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ST. BERNARD, O.Cist.

Doctor of the Church

ST BERNARD'S
SERMONS

ON THE

CANTICLE OF CANTICLES

TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL LATIN

BY

A PRIEST OF MOUNT MELLERAY

VOL. I.

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Imprimatur :

% Fr. AUGUSTINUS MARRE,

Ep. t. Constant.
Abbas Generalis O.C.R.
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GULIELMUS BYRNE, S.T.L.,

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/ 0 5*/

TO

HE MOST REVEREND BERNARD HACKETT, D.D.

LORD BISHOP OF WATERFORD AND LISMORE,

THIS TRANSLATION OF THE SERMONS OF
ST. BERNARD

ON THE CANTICLE OF CANTICLES
IS HUMBLY AND RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.

I.

%%^MH 1 8 i£

TRANSLATOR^ PREFACE

So far as I am aware, this is the first attempt on the
)art of a Catholic to render St. Bernard's famous
discourses on the Canticle of Canticles available for
English readers. It is passing strange that it should
)e so ; passing strange that the most important work,
>erhaps, of him who has been called by excellence the
Doctor of Love and the Prince of Mystics, should be
,o neglected. But the Sermons on the Canticle are not
angular in this respect. The same neglect has been
ixtended to practically all the writings of the Melli-
luous Doctor, with great loss to spirituality. The
:ause of this is not easy to determine. Want of appro-
bation it can hardly be. Surely no one could read those
grandest of prose-poems, those sweetest of love-songs,
^hich have been for ages the delight of religious souls
Ind have nourished the piety of saints unnumbered,
without feeling his heart touched and his mind illumined.
But, whatever the explanation, the fact remains, and it
loes not speak well for Catholic scholarship. For it
B only by those of the household that St. Bernard has
>een so forgotten. Non-Catholic writers have shown
hemselves, if not more appreciative, at any rate, more
ealous and enterprising. One cannot help feeling a
ense of shame at beholding the elegant translations of
fome of the Saint's more celebrated treatises, published
Iven in our own times, by such Protestant scholars as

Irs. Eales and Gardner. It looks as if, by a .strange

vii

viii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

irony of fate, heresy had obtained a monopoly of the
very man who, in his day, was its most formidable
opponent.

It would not be easy to exaggerate the influence,
direct and indirect, of St. Bernard's writings on the
religious history of the last eight centuries. According
to Horstius, who wrote about 1679, they were more
universally read, and republished more frequently, than
the works of any other of the Fathers. Not alone have
they served the Church as a powerful means of edifi-
cation, but even many of the most beautiful devotions
which adorn her liturgy and strengthen her hold on the
hearts of her children, owe to them their inspiration
or their popularity — such as the devotion to the Sacred
Heart, to the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary, to St.
Joseph, to the Holy Angels, and the Guardian Angels
in particular. Mystical and ascetical writers of every
age, since their first publication, have found in them
an inexhaustible mine of spiritual treasures, wherewith
they have not hesitated to enrich their own composi-
tions. Thus many of the brilliant epigrams and beau-
tiful images which adorn the pages of popular authors
are but borrowed plumes, derived from the works of
St. Bernard. Sir Francis Cruise has shown how enor-
mously the author of the Imitation is indebted to our
Saint. His influence is also clearly discernible in the
two other works which, in their various ways, had
perhaps the largest share in moulding medieval thought,
viz., St. Thomas's Summa Theologica and Dante's Divina
Commedia. The same is true of the works of St. John
of the Cross and St. Francis of Sales, the two great
masters of the spiritual life most in favour with modern
mystics. The highest honour which can be rendered to

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE ix

any writer is the adoption of his words into the dog-
matic system of Christ's infallible Church, which are
thus, in some sense, put on a level with the inspired
oracles of Holy Writ. According to the Abbe Ratisbon,
such honour was paid to the writings of St. Bernard
by the great Council of Trent, for in its authentic ex-
position of the doctrine of justification it " reproduces
his teaching almost word for word."

As to the intrinsic excellence of those writings, it
would, of course, be the height of presumption on my
part to venture an opinion. But I think the reader
will thank me if I present him with a few apprecia-
tions from the pens of competent judges. They have
been selected with a view to the greatest variety as
regards age, nationality, and religious persuasion.

Catholic Testimonies.

I call to mind his holy and wonderful life, how he
was endowed with a singular prerogative of grace, and
not only did he possess in himself in an extraordinary
degree the gifts of devotion and sanctity, but he also
illustrated the universal Church of God with the light
of his faith and his learning. — Pope Alexander III.

By the acuteness of his genius, the sanctity of his
life, and his knowledge of Sacred Scripture, he ren-
dered most important service to the Universal Church.
. . . With voice and pen he attacked and confounded
the heretics of his time, and by his learning defended
the Roman See against its assailants. — Pope Pius VIII.

The works of St. Bernard have a flavour of admirable
sweetness so that he is always read with a holy delight.
— Cardinal Valerius.

He was gifted with a sublime eloquence, and so rich
in saintly wisdom and eminent in holiness, that while
we garner his teaching we should make his life our
model. Bernard, the great contemplative (altissimus

x TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

contemplatcr), tasted all the sweetness of prayer ;
if you, too, would find a relish in prayer, ruminate
his words. Not only are they spiritual and heart-
penetrating, but they are also exquisite in style and
calculated to impel you to the service of God. — St.

BONAVENTURE.

In him we see gleaming the nine precious stones of
which the Prophet Ezechiel speaks, by which are sig-
nified the nine choirs of angels, for Bernard possessed
the virtues and exercised the offices of all the angelic
orders. His mouth was a chalice of purest gold, all
studded with jewels, making the whole world drunk
with the wine of its sweetness. — St. Thomas Aquinas.

Blessed art thou, O honey-tongued Bernard, amongst
all the Doctors of the Church, whose soul was mar-
vellously enlightened by the eternal splendours of the
Word, who from the abundance of thy heart spoke so
sweetly and so touchingly of the Saviour's Passion. . .
No wonder thy tongue should distil such sweetness,
since thy heart was filled with the honey that flows
from meditation on the sufferings of Christ. — B. Henry
Suso.

He lived most holily and taught most excellently. . .
As the face of Moses shone so brightly from the divine
communications vouchsafed him that it dazzled the
eyes of the people, so did Bernard radiate throughout
the Church the light of heavenly knowledge with which
his soul was flooded. — William of Paris.

St. Bernard was truly an apostolic man. Rather he
was a true apostle sent by God, mighty in word and
work, everywhere confirming his mission by his mir-
acles, so that in no respect does he come short of the
great apostles. — Cardinal Baronius.

St. Bernard was truly an apostle, not less illustrious,
for his miracles than for the splendour of his wisdom.
He has more miracles to his credit than any other saint
whose life has been written. — Cardinal Bellarmin.

Bernard is sweet, pious, penetrating, elegant, eloquent,
inflaming. — Ribera.

His discourse is every way sweet and ardent. It so

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xi

delights and fervently inflames, that, from his most
sweet tongue, honey and milk seem to flow in his words,
and out of his most ardent breast a fire of burning
affections breaks out. — Sixtus Sinensis.

Where can any one find for himself a more excellent
teacher of divine love than this Saint, whose words are
but so many sparks shot forth from the furnace of
charity ? — Gerson.

Of all the Greek Fathers I am most pleased with
Chrysostom, who excels in fluency, variety, and every
kind of ornament. Amongst the Latins I prefer Bernard,
whose ardour and piquancy arouse the emotions,
whilst his acuteness and wisdom inform the mind. —
Lipsius.

No monk ever either wrote better or lived more
holily. . . . Bernard's language is unusually limpid and
prudent. Hence he is often highly praised, even by the
enemies of the Church, not only for his great learning,
but also for his skill and moderation as a teacher. —
B. Peter Canisius.

Bernard enkindles in the hearts of his readers the
same sweet flame of love which consumes his own.
His lips distil milk and honey, especially when he
speaks of the Incarnate Word or His Virgin Mother. —
Cornelius a Lapide.

Bernard is Christianly learned, holily eloquent, de-
voutly cheerful and pleasant, powerful in moving the
passi ons . — Erasmus .

Read that most beautiful book De Consider atione, and
from its most noble style you will understand that the
author was more eloquent than Demosthenes, more
subtle than Aristotle, wiser than Plato, more prudent
than Socrates. — Helinandus.

His works are the most useful for piety amongst
' all the writings of the Fathers. — Valois.

The elect of God amongst the elect, the most ex-
cellent teacher of religious, the light and glory of monks,
the model and example of the devout, who was pre-
sented from on high with such graces, adorned with
such qualities, distinguished by such privileges, that

xii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

no mind is powerful enough to conceive his greatness,
no tongue eloquent enough to speak his praises. —
Denis the Carthusian.

Next to the Sacred Scriptures, no works should be
more prized by the religious-minded, for none are more
profitable, than those of St. Bernard. In them are
found united all the perfections dispersed through the
works of others : solidity of doctrine, grace of style,
variety of matter, elegance of diction, conciseness,
fervour, force of expression. — Mabillon.

It is impossible to find a more sublime personification
of the Catholic Church, combating against the heretics
of his time, than the illustrious Abbot of Clairvaux,
who speaks, as it were, in the name of the Christian
faith. No one could more worthily represent the ideas
and sentiments which the Church endeavoured to diffuse
amongst mankind, or more faithfully delineate the
course through which Catholicism would have led the
human intellect. Let us pause in the presence of this
gigantic mind, which attained to an eminence far
beyond any of its contemporaries. This extraordinary
man fills the world with his name, upheaves it with
his word, sways it by his influence. In the midst of
darkness he is its light. . . . His exposition of a point
of doctrine is remarkable for ease and lucidity ; his
demonstrations are vigorous and conclusive ; his reason-
ing is conducted with a force of logic that presses hard
upon his adversary and leaves him no means of escape ;
in defence his quickness and address are surprising. In
his answers he is clear and precise ; in repartee ready
and penetrating ; and without dealing in the subtleties
of the schools, he displays wonderful tact in disengag-
ing truth from error, sound reason from artifice
and fraud. Here is a man formed entirely and
exclusively under the influence of Catholicism, a man
who never dreamed of setting his intellect free from
the yoke of authority ; and yet he rises like a
mighty pyramid above all the men of his time. —

B/iLMEZ.

St. Bernard in his writings is equally tender, sweet,

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xiii

and vigorous. His style is lively, sublime, and pleasant.
. . . He treats theological subjects after the manner
of the ancients, on which account, and because of the
great excellence of his writings he is reckoned amongst
the Fathers. And though the youngest of them in
time, he is one of the most useful to those who desire
to study and to improve their hearts in sincere piety.
— Alban Butler.

There seems to have been in this one mind an inex-
haustible abundance, variety, and versatility of gifts.
Without ever ceasing to be the holy and mortified
religious, St. Bernard appears to be the ruling will of
his time. He stands forth as pastor, preacher, mys-
tical writer, controversialist, reformer, pacificator, me-
diator, arbiter, diplomatist, and statesman. Of all the
writers of the first thousand years of the Church, none
is more full of fervent, adoring, tender love for our
Divine Lord, and none is more conspicuous for ardent
affection and veneration for the Mother of God. —
Cardinal Manning.

Nature's favourite, grace enriched him with her
choicest gifts. ... A prodigy of eloquence, speaking to
all the stern language of duty and yet ever winning the
enthusiastic love of all, he was a living miracle of the
power of religion and of the heavenly charm of grace.
As an 01 at or and a writer he stands foremost in his
day. . . . His style is spirited and flowery, his thoughts
ingenious ; his imagination brilliant and rich in alle-
gories ; his assiduous meditation on and study of the
Sacred Text had so interwoven it with his thoughts that
their every utterance naturally reproduced its ideas
and expression. — D arras.

We know a man who, though living in solitude, could
sway the world and direct the Church by the charm
of his words and the power of his genius. Though the
mildest of men, he was at the same time the most
resolute. . . . We speak of St. Bernard, whose mental
and moral greatness his contemporaries in the twelfth
century knew so well how to prize. — Rohrbacher.

Thou art he, O mellifluous Bernard, who dost con-

xiv TRANSLATORS PREFACE

tinue still, as heretofore, to irrigate the world with the
dew of thy heavenly doctrine and most sweetly to
refresh it with thy writings, flowing with milk and
honey. Whilst perusing these, we seem to enjoy the
pleasures of the promised land, even in this place of
horror and desolation, and the bitter waters of the
desert appear to be sweetened with a foretaste of our
future bliss. — Horst.

What can so enliven our devotion, excite our con-
trition, or inflame our love as the life and teaching of
the blessed Father St. Bernard ? Where shall we find
one more efficacious in exhorting to virtue, in dis-
suading from vice, in lifting our affections from earth
to heaven ? — De Hassia.

Non-Catholic Testimonies.

Bernard surpasses all the other Doctors of the Church.
— Luther.

The Abbot Bernard, in his books De Consider atione,
speaks in the language of truth itself. — Calvin.

Who can write more sweetly than Bernard ? His
meditations I call a river of Paradise, spiritual nectar,
the food of angels, the very soul of piety. — Hein.

A few of Bernard's pages contain more spirit and
life and doctrine and faith than all the writings of
Jerome. — Neander.

In speech, in writing, in action, Bernard stood high
above his rivals and contemporaries. . . . He became
the oracle of Europe. — Gibbon.

Never has there been a religious better able to re-
concile engrossment in the tumult of affairs with the
austerity of his state of life. He, beyond all others,
acquired an influence springing from purely personal
merits and surpassing in efficacy official authority. —
Voltaire.

St. Bernard was the most eloquent, the most in-
fluential, the most piously disinterested of the Chris-
tians of his age. — Guizot.

W7e are used to speak of St. John as the Apostle of

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xv

Love. The title " Doctor of Love " will sufficiently
define St. Bernard's place among the theologians of
the Church. — Gardner.

One would hardly know where to find a brighter
example of the power which is imparted to the preacher
by this always noble, if sometimes dangerous and mis-
leading, faculty (of imagination). It is perpetually
apparent in Bernard. Whatever else he is or is not,
he is never commonplace. His mind is fruitful in
large suggestions, and the text is often hardly more
than a nest from which, like the eagle, he lifts himself
on eager wing, to touch, if he may, the stars of light.
— Storrs.

With respect to the Sermons on the Canticle of
Canticles in particular, I cannot refrain from quoting
a few additional witnesses, even at the risk of weary-
ing the reader : —

They contain whatever the holy Doctor has said in
his other works appertaining to morals and piety ; in
fact, all that he ever wrote on the virtues and vices
and the spiritual life. All this he repeats in these Dis-
courses, but with greater solidity and elevation of
style, whilst he removes the veils and obscurities from
the mystical and allegorical senses of the Sacred Text,
and brings forth to the light all the secrets of perfection,
in a manner no less delightful than sublime. — Mabillon.

He spoke to men in the language of angels and they
were scarcely able to understand it. — Fleury.

The questions so beautifully treated here are precisely
those which appear in St .Thomas 'sSvmma. — Dalgairns.

In this immortal code of divine love, he celebrates
the nuptials of the soul with God, and depicts in lines
of light that Bride who loves only for the sake of loving
and being loved. . . . Human tenderness, no matter
how eloquent, has never inspired accents more passionate
or more profound. — Montalembert.

The Sermons are tremulous with the incessant

immer of allegories .... so rich in their spiritual

xvi TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

suggestiveness that they strike upon the mind like rays
straight from heaven, and belonging to that " light
that never was on sea or shore.' ' — Eales.

The Sermons were begun in the Advent of 1135,
after the Saint's return from his .second mission to
Aquitaine, which had resulted happily in the conver-
sion of Duke William. The first suggestion of them
came from the Carthusian, Bernard de Portis. So
much is clear from two extant letters on the subject,
addressed by the holy Abbot to this religious. In the
earlier of these, he gently remonstrates with his friend,
who, as he says, was imposing on him a task for which
he had neither time nor talent. " The more insistent
you have been in asking," he writes, " the more reso-
lute have I been in refusing, not out of disregard for
you but through compassion for myself. . . . My reluct-
ance has been proportionate to your eagerness. Do you
ask why? I will tell you. It is because of my fears
lest such great expectations should be disappointed
by the birth of nothing better than the ' ridiculous
mouse.' " However, he yields to his friend's impor-
tunity and promises to send on immediately a few of the
Sermons on the Canticle, already composed, in order
to cure him of the desire for any more. Still, should
these meet with his correspondent's approval, he en-
gages to go forward with the work according to his
opportunities. In the second letter, after apologising
for not having kept an appointment to visit the Car-
thusian community, he says : " The Sermons on the
Canticles which you asked and which I promised you, I
am forwarding herewith. When you have gone through
them, write and tell me whether I am to proceed or
to desist." Some have supposed that this Bernard de

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xvii

Portis is the Friend to whom the Saint refers in his
first Discourse.

During the eighteen years that intervened between
this commencement and his death, in 1153, St. Bernard
continued his lectures, preaching sometimes every day,
as we learn from Sermon XXII ; sometimes only on
festivals, according as his health and preoccupations
permitted. But interruptions were frequent and long,
for the Preacher was often called away to bring to an
end a dangerous schism, or to make peace between
princes, or to put a stop to scandals, or to marshal
the forces of Europe for another mighty effort against
the powers of the Saracen. Although many passages
occur, which were evidently spoken extempore, the
Saint, as a rule, took pains with the preparation of his
Discourses. One of his biographers gives us a pleasing
picture of him reposing from his external labours in
the seclusion of a garden bower, formed of a trellis
covered over with sweet-pea ; it was there, whilst ab-
sorbed in divine contemplation, that his soul was filled
with these songs of love, these spiritual epithalamiums.
There is evidence in the Sermons themselves that,
sometimes at any rate, they were only written down
after being delivered to the brethren in the monastic
auditorium. On such occasions, only the choir reli-
gious, including the novices, attended, the lay- brothers
not being supposed to understand Latin. Mabillon,
however, states that the Saint himself, for their benefit,
preached the same Discourses in the French language,
and that he had himself examined some of these trans-
lations in manuscript . Such charity would not surprise
us in St . Bernard. The hour for these love-feasts varied.
Sometimes it was in the morning, as we gather from

xviii TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

Sermons I and XL VII ; sometimes in the evening, as
is implied in Sermon LXXI.

The reader may feel disappointed if he fails to bear
in mind that the holy Abbot is here not commenting,
but preaching, on the " Song of Solomon,' ' and is,
therefore, entitled to the liberties of a preacher. As a
matter of fact, the text serves him but as a frame whereon
to weave the wondrously beautiful fabrics of an extra-
ordinarily fertile fancy, as a point of departure whence
to wing his luminous way around the wide-extended
realms of thought, or as a watch-tower, from which to
contemplate all things in heaven, on earth, and under
the earth. Thus these Sermons, instead of being dry-as-
dust homilies, are as varied and many-coloured as is
the spiritual life, every aspect of which they discuss
with equal solidity and elegance. They exhibit the
same independence of thought and treatment which
characterise all the other works of their Author. Saints
Ambrose, Augustine, and Gregory the Great are almost
the only human authorities whom St. Bernard ever
makes use of, and even on these his dependence is very
slight. On the other hand, no other writer is so full of
Holy Scripture, from which he borrows something in
nearly every sentence. Even when he is not actually
quoting from it, his speech is unconsciously attuned
to the music of its cadences.

The saintly Preacher had purposed to go over the
whole of the Canticle. But death overtook him whilst
engaged on the first verse of the third chapter, that
is, when he had completed a fourth of his task, in
eighty-six Sermons. In some editions we find the
number eighty-seven, but this is because the two read-
ings of XXIV are given as distinct Sermons, or because

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE xix

one of the longer Discourses has been divided. Only
eighty-six Sermons in eighteen years ! Yes, but if you
consider the multitudinous cares, the " solicitudes for
all the Churches," and for all the States as well, that
pressed upon the Saint, you will rather wonder how
he found time to accomplish so much. Nevertheless,
supremely important as were his services to religion and
society in his capacities as churchman and statesman,
canonist, propagandist, and peace-maker, we cannot but
lament, as he himself lamented, the necessities that
called him away from this more congenial occupation.
One Gilbert of Hoiland took up the work where St.
Bernard left off, and advanced as far as verse 10 of
chapter v. in forty-eight Sermons, which, in the judgment
of Mabillon, are almost worthy of the Saint himself.
According to the same eminent authority, this Gilbert
was an Irishman, and Abbot of St. Mary's, Dublin.
Horst supposed him to have been Abbot of another
Cistercian house of the same name in Lincoln. But as
the evidence in favour of this view was fully known to
Mabillon yet failed to influence him, we are justified
in regarding it as negligible.

The only merit claimed for this Translation is that
of fidelity to the original. I have endeavoured to re-
present the author's thought simply and clearly without
any effort after ornament or eloquence. The under-
taking has been far from easy. An eminent prelate,
now no more, used to declare that St. Bernard was
untranslatable. That is certainly an exaggeration. But
so much at least is true, that hardly is there another
writer whose thought is so difficult to detach from his
language, because there is hardly another whose lan-
guage is so closely wedded to his thought. Logicians
tell us that words are only conventional signs of ideas,

xx TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE

but one feels inclined to make an exception in the case
of St. Bernard. With him the ideas seemed to have
blossomed into expression naturally and spontaneously,
so wonderful is the felicitousness and aptness of the
latter. All this, of course, as well as the unnumbered
inimitable graces of style and diction which make the
Latin so delightful to read, has been lost in the trans-
lation. Hence it appears how inadequately these pages
represent the original. But it is enough for me if I
have succeeded, as I hope I have, in rendering access-
ible to those for whom the Latin is a sealed fountain
the authoritative teaching of so great a Master of the
interior life. The dissemination of such doctrines can
hardly fail to be fruitful of good, especially in these
days of spiritual renaissance, when so many souls are
looking for light, when so many questions are being
asked concerning the relation between modern mystic-
ism and the medieval, when mysticism itself is attract-
ing so much attention, both within and without the
Church, and so many religious " specialists " are loudly
advertising their own misty varieties of the thing, or
their nebulous theories thereon.

It has been thought advisable to publish the present
Translation of the Sermons on the Canticle in two
volumes, each containing forty-three Discourses. A
third volume, uniform with these, shall include, with
selected treatises, the Saint's twenty-seven Homilies
on Psalm xc. These have never before appeared in
English, and are in quite the same style and of equal
merit with those on the Song of Solomon.

Feast oj St. Bernard, 191 9.

CONTENTS

SERMON PAGE

I. On the Meaning of the Title . . . i

II. On the Incarnation of Christ . . . io

III. On the mystical Kiss of the Lord's Feet,

Hand, and Mouth .... 20

IV. On the Three Stages of the Soul's Progress 2 7
V. On the four Orders of Spirits . . 32

VI. On the Kiss of the Lord's Feet . . 41

VII. On the Love of the Spouse, and on the

Attention due to the Word of God . 49

VIII. On the Kiss of the Mouth interpreted of
the Holy Spirit ....

IX. On the Breasts of the Bridegroom and
of the Spouse ....

X. On the Spiritual Ointments ... 80

XI. On the Mode and Fruit of Redemption . 90

XII. On the Ointment of Piety . . . IOo

XIII. Glory belongs to God Alone . . .114

XIV. The Church and the Synagogue . . r26

XV. On the Name of Jesus . . . .136

XVI. On the mystical Sense of the Number

Seven I48

XVII. On the Coming and Going of the Spirit . 164
XVIII. On the twofold Operation of the Holy

Ghost .....

xxi

58
68

x74

xxii CONTENTS

SERMON PAGE

XIX. On the Motives on Account of which

Christ the Lord is Loved by the Angels 184

XX. On the various Degrees and Character-
istics of the Love of Christ . . 194

XXI. In what Manner the Spouse desires to

BE DRAWN ...... 207

XXII. On the four Ointments . . . 220

XXIII. On the mystical Garden, Storeroom, and

Bedchamber ..... 234

XXIV. On Detraction and the Necessity of

uniting Faith with Good Works . .258

XXV. On the Blackness and the Beauty of

the Bridegroom and the Bride . .270

XXVI. The Blackness of the Bride compared
to the Tents of Cedar — The Saint's
Lament over his Brother . . .280

XXVII. The Beauty of the Bride compared to

Solomon's Curtains .... 302

XXVIII. The Curtains of Solomon explained with
reference to the Blackness of the
Bridegroom and the Bride . . 320

XXIX. On Domestic Discord and Fraternal

Charity . . . . . • 337

XXX. On the mystical Vineyards and concern-
ing the Prudence of the Flesh . 349

XXXI. On the various Visions of God . . 365

XXXII. On the different Ways in which the
Word manifests Himself to different
Souls, and on the Sources of Good and
Evil Thoughts . . . . .377

CONTENTS xxiii

SERMON PAGE

XXXIII. On the three Objects of the devout
Soul's Quest, on the Mystical Meri-
dian, AND THE FOUR KlNDS OF TEMP-
TATION ...... 389

X XXXIV. On Humility and Patience . . . 409
XXXV. On the two Kinds of Ignorance which

WE SHOULD FEAR AND AVOID . . 415

XXXVI. On the Order to be observed in Acqui-
sition of Knowledge . . . 426

/ XXXVII. On the Knowledge and Ignorance of

God and Self ..... 436

XXXVIII. On the Manner in which Ignorance of
God leads to Despair, and on the
Beauty of the Spouse . . . 445

XXXIX. On the Chariots of Pharao and the

Captains of his Host . . . 452

XL. On the Cheeks of the Spouse and what

constitutes their Beauty . . 462

XLI. On what is meant by the Neck of the
Spouse, and by the Chains of Gold
promised Her . . . . . 469

XLII. On Submission to Correction, and the

two Kinds of Humility . . .477

XLIII. On the Remembrance of Christ's

Sufferings ..... 492

ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

ON THE

CANTICLE OF CANTICLES.

SERMON I.

On the Meaning of the Title: "Solomon's
Canticle of Canticles/'

You, my brethren, require instruction different from
that which would suit people living in the world, and
if not in matter, in manner, at least. For a teacher
who would follow the example of St. Paul, should give
them "milk to drink, not meat." But more solid food
must be set before spiritual persons, as the same Apostle
teaches us by his practice. "We speak," he says,
" not in the learned words of human wisdom, but in
the doctrine of the Spirit, comparing spiritual things
with spiritual." Again, " We speak wisdom amongst
the perfect "-such, my brethren, as I believe you to
be, unless, indeed, it is to no purpose that you have
been so long engaged in the study of spiritual things,
in mortifying your senses, and in meditating day and
night on the law of God. So now open your mouths
to receive not milk, but bread. It is the bread of
Solomon, and is exceedingly good and palatable. For
the Book entitled the Canticle of Canticles is the bread
I speak of, which may now, if you please, be brought
forth to be broken.

2 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Bv the words of Ecclesiastes,* you have been, I
think, throngh the grace of God, already sufficient y
enlightened to understand and despise the vanity
of this world. What need to mention the Book of
Proverbs ? Is not your whole life and conduct
regulated and reformed in perfect accordance with he
doctrines contained therein ? Having, therefore, tasted
first both these loaves of bread, borrowed, however
from the cupboard of the Friend, you are now invited
to try this third loaf,t which, mayhap, you wil find
stronger. As there are two evils which, solely or
especially, wage war against the soul, we are given
S two Books °f Ecclesiastes and Proverbs to oppose
to them. Of these the former, using the hoe of discip-
line grubs out whatever is corrupt in our morals and
whatever is superfluous in the indulgence of the flesh ;
whilst the latter, by the light of reason, prudently
discovers the smoke of vanity in all worldly glory and
distinguishes it faithfully from the solidity of truth
putting the fear of God and the observance of His
Lmmandments before all human interests and earthly
desires. This is well. Such fear is the beginning o.
true wisdom, as such observance is its consummation
-assuming you agree with me that the only true and

* Some «ather from these words that St. Bernard had pre-

Eccles.astes a"? f0£ert£ as in thc list of works given by

quite unwarranted, lispecian} , ^ c«;„+ +v>pre is no

Geoffrey, secretary and biographer of the , Saint, there xs
mention of any such productions --(Tran *?. ^> f shall

t The allusion here is to Luke XX. yd. Wlucfi i c y
hale a fr:end and shall go to him at m.dnight a£? *al'sa^*°

him : Friend, .end me three »°a7ka^^4l" S sef before
is come off his journey to me, and 1 have noi wna
him."— (Translator.)

SOLOMON'S CANTICLE OF CANTICLES 3

peifect wisdom consists in avoiding evil and doing
good. For without the fear of God it is impossible to
avoid evil perfectly, and there is no good work possible
without the observance of the commandments.

Now, then, after ridding ourselves of these two evils
by the study of those two books, we may confidently
take in hand this third discourse on holy contemplation,
which, being the fruit of the preceding, should only be
entrusted to sober minds and chastened ears. For it
would be criminal presumption on the part of imperfect
souls to occupy themselves with such a sacred subject
before the flesh has been tamed by discipline and sub-
dued to the spirit, and the vanity and cares of the
world despised and abjured. Just as the eye that is
blind or closed cannot profit by the light poured upon
it, "so the animal man perceiveth not those things
which are of the Spirit of God/' The reason is, because
the "Holy Spirit of discipline will flee from the de-
ceitful," that is, from a man of ill-regulated life,
neither will He ever have part with the vanity of the
world, inasmuch as He is the Spirit of truth. For what
society hath the wisdom which is from above with that
of the world, which is foolishness in the sight of God, or
with that of the flesh, which is the enemy of God ?'

Anyhow, I suppose the "friend, who cometh to us
off his journey," will have no reason to complain of
us when he has helped himself to this third loaf of
bread. But who shall break it to us ? Lo ! we have
here the Father of the family Himself, as it is written,
you shall " know the Lord in the breaking of the bread/'
Who else but He is capable ? As for me, I am not
rash enough to undertake such a task. You must
therefore, my brethren, so look upon me as to look

4 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

for nothing from me. For I also am one of those who
hope, a beggar, like yourselves, for the food of my
soul, for a spiritual alms. Poor and needy, I appeal
to Him " Who openeth and no man shutteth," begging
Him to reveal to us the deep mysteries contained
in this Book. "The eyes of all hope in Thee, O
Lord." "The little ones have asked for bread and
there is no one to break it unto them." For this we
look to Thy gracious mercy. Therefore, O most Loving-
kind ! break Thy bread to the hungry, by my hands,
if it so please Thee, but by Thine own power.
\i\^ And, first of all, tell us, I beseech Thee, by whom,
of whom, and to whom is it said, " Let him kiss me
with the kiss of his mouth " ? And what means this
abruptness, this sudden beginning in the middle of
the discourse ? For the words are so uttered as if
there had been a previous speaker to Whom this other
is represented as if replying, whoever she is that so-
licits the kiss. Again, if she requests or demands to
be kissed by someone, why ask expressly and explicitly
that this be done with the mouth and with his own
mouth, as if it were customary to give such an embrace
otherwise, or by proxy ? Yet she is not content with
saying, " let him kiss me with his mouth" but uses
the still more unusual expression, " with the kiss of
his mouth/' A pleasant discourse this, surely, which
begins with a kiss. In truth, the smiling face, so to
speak, of this part of Scripture entices and allures us
to read, so that it is a delight to investigate, even with
labour, its hidden meanings ; for the difficulty of inquiry
never wearies when we are charmed by the sweetness
of the discourse. Yet Who can help having his atten-J
tion aroused by this beginning without a beginning,

SOLOMON'S CANTICLE OF CANTICLES 5

and this novelty of language in an ancient book ? Here
we have proof that this work is no product of human
genius, but composed by the art of the Holy Spirit, in
the fact that despite its being so difficult to understand,
it is at the same time such a pleasure to study.

But are we to pass over the title ? No, my brethren,
we must not omit a single iota, since we are com-
manded to gather up the smallest fragments, lest they
be lost. The title runs, "The Beginning of Solomon's
Canticle of Canticles.', Observe, in the first place, how
fitly the name Solomon, which, in the Hebrew, signifies
the " Peaceful One," stands at the head of a book which
takes its beginning from the token of peace, that is,
from a kiss. Notice, also, that such a beginning invites
to the understanding of this Canticle only peaceful
souls, those, namely, who have succeeded in freeing
themselves from the tumult of the passions and the
distractions of temporal cares. Nor should the fact
that the Book is not called a canticle, but the Canticle
of Canticles, be regarded as insignificant. I have,
indeed, read many canticles in Sacred Scripture, but
none other, as far as I can remember, bearing such a
title. Israel sang a hymn to the Lord, after escaping
the sword and the yoke of Pharaoh , what time the sea
rendered them the double service of delivering them
from danger and wreaking vengeance on their enemies.
Yet that hymn was not called the Canticle of Canticles.
Holy Scripture simply says, if my memory serves me
aright, that " Israel sang this song to the Lord." Deb-
bora, too, sang a canticle, as did also Judith, and the
mother of Samuel, and several of the prophets. But we
do not read that any of these canticles were called the
Canticle of Canticles. You will find, I think, that all

6 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

those persons sang their songs on account of some benefit
bestowed upon themselves or their nation, as for a
victory gained, or a danger avoided, or the acquisition
of some coveted object. Such singers, therefore, had
special motives for their canticles, and sang to show
their gratitude for the divine favours, as it is written,
" He will confess to Thee when Thou shalt benefit him."
But King Solomon, excelling in wisdom, exalted in
glory, and secure in peace, is known to have stood in
need of no earthly object the acquisition of which
would stimulate him to sing this canticle of his. Nor
do his own writings anywhere give occasion for such
a surmise. We must therefore suppose that, under
divine inspiration, he celebrates the praises of Christ
and His Church, the grace of heavenly love, and the
mysteries of the eternal marriage. He also gives ex-
pression to the desires of the holy soul, and exulting
in spirit, composed this nuptial song in sweet but figura-
tive language. For, like Moses, he veils his counten-
ance, here, perhaps, not less dazzlingly bright than the
Lawgiver's on Mount Sinai, because at that time very
few, if any, could endure to gaze upon the glory of his
naked face. In my opinion, therefore, this marriage
hymn owes its title to its excellence, and with good
reason is singularly called the Canticle of Canticles in
the same way as He to Whom it is sung is singularly
named " King of kings and Lord of lords."

And you, my brethren, if you look back upon your
own experience, have not you also sung a new canticle
to the Lord, "because He worked wonders," in the
victory wherewith your faith "hath vanquished the
world," and in your deliverance out ,of " the pit of
misery and the mire of dregs " ? Again, when He added

SOLOMON'S CANTICLE OF CANTICLES 7

the further grace of setting your feet upon the rock
and directing your steps, I am sure that for this indul-
gence of a new life, your mouths were filled with another
"new canticle, a hymn to our God." And when your
penitence obtained from Him not only the pardon of your
sins but even the promise of reward — did you not with
still greater fervour, rejoicing in the hope of future goods,
sing your songs " in the ways of the Lord, because great
is the glory of the Lord " ? And if for any amongst
3'ou a mysterious or obscure text of Scripture has some-
times become, on a sudden, luminous with meaning,
surely it was a duty to charm the ears of God " with
the voice of joy and peace, the sound of one feasting,"
in return for the alms of heavenly bread bestowed. But
even in these daily trials and combats, in which all
who live piously in Christ are kept constantly engaged
by the world, the flesh, and the devil — thus constantly
experiencing in themselves that the life of man upon
earth is a warfare — in these also, I say, we find the
obligation of daily singing new canticles for victories
achieved. As often as a temptation is overcome, or a
vice eradicated, or an imminent danger avoided, or a
hidden snare discovered, or any deeply rooted and in-
veterate passion finally and completely vanquished, or
some virtue, long and eagerly desired and often asked
for, is at last obtained through the grace of God, so
often, according to the Prophet, should we sound forth
our thanks and praise and bless " God in His gifts " j
for each benefit received. For, when the Judgment
comes, he shall be considered an ingrate who cannot
say to God, " Thy justifications were the subject of my
song in the place of my pilgrimage."
I think, my brethren, you already recognise in your

8 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

own experience those canticles, which in the Psalter are
not called the Canticle of Canticles, but the " Canticles of
the Steps." For at every advance you make towards
perfection, according to the " ascents " which each has
"disposed in his heart," a particular canticle has to
be sung to the praise and glory of Him Who advances
you. I do not see how otherwise can be fulfilled the
verse, " A voice of exultation and salvation in the
tabernacle of the just." Still less that most beautiful
and salutary exhortation of the Apostle, " In psalms
and hymns and spiritual canticles, singing and making
melody in your hearts to the Lord." But there is one
canticle which, by reason of its singular excellence and
sweetness, surpasses all those I have mentioned and all
others whatsoever. This I would name the Canticle
of Canticles, because it is the fruit of all the rest. Giace
alone can teach it, nor can it be learned save by ex-
perience. It is for the experienced, therefore, to re-
cognise it, and for others to burn with the desire, not
so much of knowing, as of feeling it ; since this canticle
is not a noise made by the mouth but a jubilee of
the heart, not a sound of the lips but a tumult of
internal joys, not a symphony of voices but a harmony
of wills. It is not heard outside, for it sounds not ex-
ternally. The singer alone can hear it , and He to Whom
it is sung, namely, the Bridegroom and the Bride. For
it is a nuptial song, celebrating the chaste and joyous
embraces of loving hearts, the concord of minds, and
the union resuhing from reciprocal affection.

Yet this canticle can neither be heard nor sung by
souls that are weak and imperfect, and but recently
converted from the world, but only by such as are
advanced and sufficiently enlightened. For these, by

SOLOMON'S CANTICLE OF CANTICLES 9

their progress under the grace of God, have so increased,
that they have now come to maturity and to the mar-
riageable age, so to speak, measuring time by merits
rather than by years. They are ripe for the mystical
nuptials of the Heavenly Bridegroom, as will be more
fully explained in its proper place.* Now, it is the hour
at which both our poverty and our Rule require us to
go forth to manual labour. To-morrow I will resume,
in the name of the Lord, my discourse on the mystical
kiss, having in to-day's sermon sufficiently expounded
the meaning of the title.

* Sermon LXXXIII.

SERMON II

On the Incarnation of Christ, announced by
Patriarchs and Prophets.

" Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth."

Whenever I reflect, as I very often do, on the yearn-
ing and ardent desires of the fathers for the presence
of Christ in the flesh, I am filled with giief and con-
fusion. Even now scarcely can I restrain my tears, so
great is the shame I feel at. the thought of the tepidity
and sloth of these miserable times. For is there one
amongst us, my brethren, who derives a satisfaction
from the actual fruition of this grace, proportionate to
the longing excited in the holy men of old by its mere
promise ? What multitudes, for instance, will rejoice
on the anniversary of the Saviour's Birth, which we shall
soon be celebrating ? But would to God the cause of
their joy were the Divine Nativity, and not rather
worldly vanity ! It is something of the fathers' yearn-
ing and holy expectation I now find enkindled in my
soul by those woids, " Let Him kiss me with the kiss
of His Mouth." Such few spiritual persons as could
be found in those pre-Christian times, well knew in
spirit what grace would be "poured abroad on His
Lips." This is the reason why they exclaimed, speaking
in the desire of their souls, " Let Him kiss me with the
kiss of His Mouth." They longed, namely, with ari\
eager longing, for admission to some share in such over-
flowing sweetness. In truth, every perfect soul under^

ON THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST n

the old dispensation may be supposed to have com-
plained to God somewhat as follows : " Wherefore dost
Thou offer me these ' babbling ' * lips of the prophets ?
Rather let Him Who is ' beautiful above the sons of
men ' — 'let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth.'
' I will not now hear Moses,' for he is become to me ' of
a more stammering tongue.' Isaias is a ' man of unclean
lips.' Jeremias ' knoweth not how to speak, for he is a
child.' All the other prophets, too, lack the power of
utterance. Him, Him of Whom they prophesied — let
Him speak, ' let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth.'
No longer in them, or through them, let Him speak to
me, since ' dark are the waters in the clouds of air,' but
' let Him,' in His own Person, ' kiss me with the kiss
of His Mouth,' whose grace-giving contact and streams
of heavenly doctrine may become in me ' a fountain
of living water, springing up into eternal life.' Surely
I may expect a more abundant outpouring of graces
from Him Whom the Father 'hath anointed with the
oil of gladness above His fellows ' — if only He will
condescend to ' kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth.'

* This is the word used in the Douay Version, and renders
the common meaning of the Greek original, aneppoXoya (seed-
gathering, from cnrepfia and Xeyeiv), a term applied to crows to
express their scavenging habits, and hence transferred to persons
who resembled the crow in any of its characteristics. Thus, in
calling St. Paul a " cnreppoXoyos " (Acts xvii. 18) the Areopagites
meant that he was but an idle babbler or gossiper. However,
as the word Xeyeiv can mean to speak as well as to gather,
(rircpiiokoya may also be rendered " seminiverbia," as in the
Vulgate, which is correctly translated " word-sowing " by the
authors of the Rheims Version — quite a beautiful meaning
in the present context, as the words of the prophets may
be regarded as the seeds of the events predicted. St. Bernard
seems to have intended the word in both significations.
— (Translator.)

12 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

For His word, ' living and efficacious,' is to me as a
kiss, not indeed a contact of lips, which sometimes de-
ceives in falsely signifying a union of hearts, but an
infusion of joy, a revelation of secrets, a marvellous,
and, in a sense, indistinguishable intermingling of the
Light Supernal with the enlightened soul." *

Hence, my brethren, that expression of the Apostle,
" He that adhereth to the Lord is one spirit with Him."
With good reason, therefore, do I refuse visions and
dreams ; with reason do I decline figures and parables.
Even the loveliness of the angelic spirits fails to content
me, as falling infinitely short of the comeliness and
beauty of my Jesus. It is He, then, Himself, and none
other, whether angel or man, that I ask to kiss " me
with the kiss of His Mouth." But I am not so pre-
sumptuous as to want to be kissed with His Mouth— iov
that is the incommunicable happiness and the singular
prerogative of His assumed Human Nature. My request
is more humble : to be kissed with the kiss of His Mouth.

* <>

" Mira quaedam et quodamodo indiscreta commixtio superni
Luminis et illuminatae mentis." Similarly, St. Theresa speaking
of the spiritual marriage : " I can only say that, as far as one
can understand, the soul, I mean the spirit of the soul, is made
one with God " (Interior Castle, " Seventh Mansion," chap,
xi.). Also, "spiritual marriage is like rain falling from the
sky into the river or stream, becoming one and the same liquid,
so that the river water and the rain cannot be divided. . . . The
marriage may also be likened to a room into which the light
enters through the windows— though it passes through two the
light is one." And St. John of the Cross : " He (God) communi-
cates His own supernatural Being in such a way that the soul
seems to be God Himself and to possess the things of God."
Iliis union must not be confounded with the " deification " of
the false mystics, such as Eckhardt and Tauler, in which the
creature is said to be so merged in the Creator that it loses its
own personality. Eckhardt was condemned by John XXII
in 1329.— (Translator.)

ON THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST 13

This is the privilege of many who can consequently
say, "i\nd we all have received of His plenitude/'

Now, my brethren, I want your best attention. Let
us consider the Word assuming to be the Mouth that
kisses ; let the Nature assumed be the Mouth that is
kissed ; and let the Divine Person, subsisting in two
Natures, the Mediator between God and man, the Man
Christ Jesus, be the Kiss in which both Mouths co-
operate. In this sense, none of the saints would
ever presume to say, " Let Him kiss me with His
Mouth," but only "with the kiss of His Mouth," for
they reserved the higher privilege to Him to Whom,
solely and once and for all, the Mouth of the Word
then impressed a kiss when the whole plenitude of the
Divinity poured Itself into Him " corporally." O
happy Kiss, marvel of infinite condescension, whereby
there is not mere pressure of mouth upon mouth, but
God is united to man ! The contact of lips signifies
the embrace of loving hearts ; but this union of natures
brings together the divine and human, " making peace
as to the things on earth and the things that are in
heaven " — " For He is our peace Who hath made
both one." It isf or this Kiss, therefore, that is, for Christ ,
that every saint of the Old Testament yearned, because
they foreknew that His was the inheritance of joy and
exultation, that in Him " all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge were hidden," and they desired for
themselves a participation in His fulness.

I believe this interpretation commends itself to you,
dear brethren. Now, listen to another. Even the
saints who lived before the coming of Our Saviour
were not unaware that God entertained thoughts of
peace towards the race of mortal men, for He would

14 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

not accomplish any of His designs on earth without
revealing it to His servants the prophets, as He Him-
self declared. Yet this word Was hidden from many ;
faith was then not easy to find in the world, and even
in the case of most of those who were still " looking
for the Redemption of Israel/' hope had grown ex-
ceedingly weak. Now, the prophets, who foresaw that
Christ was to come in the flesh bringing with Him
peace, began to proclaim these things. Thus one
of them said, " And there shall be peace in our land
when He comes." What is more, under divine inspira-
tion, they predicted with all confidence that through
Him men were destined to recover the grace of God.
John, the Precursor, acknowledged that this prophecy
was fulfilled in his own day, saying, " Grace and truth
came by Jesus Christ." And now every Christian
beholds its fulfilment in his own experience.

But whilst the prophets were thus predicting peace,
and the Author of peace still deferred His coming, the
people's faith began to waver, " because there was
none to redeem or to save." And so they began to
complain of the delay. They complained that the
Prince of Peace, so often announced, had not yet
arrived amongst them, " as He spoke by the mouths
of His holy prophets who are from the beginning."
Hence they came to doubt the consoling predictions,
and demanded the sign or pledge of the promised recon-
ciliation, that is, a kiss. It was as if one of the people
should thus address the messengers of peace : " ' How
long do you hold our souls in suspense ? ' You have now
been predicting peace for a great length of time, and
lo ! it has not yet appeared. You have promised good
things and still there is only confusion. Behold this

ON THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST 15

very grace, ' at sundry times and in divers manners/
was announced to the fathers by angels and to us
by the fathers, who cried * Peace, peace/ and there
was no peace. If God would reassure us as to the sin-
cerity of His good will, so often proclaimed by His
legates, but not yet proved by the event, 'let Him
kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth/ and thus, by the
token of peace, confirm me in my hope of peace. For
how can I any longer have faith in mere words ? The
verbal promise requires confirmation by deeds. Let
God prove His envoys truthful — if His envoys they are
indeed — by following them Himself, as they promised
He would do, because without Him they can do nothing.
He has sent His servant, He has sent His staff,* but as
yet there is no return of either voice or feeling. I
will not arise, I will not awake, I will not shake off
the dust, I will not admit hope until the Prophet Him-
self come down and ' kiss me with the kiss of His
Mouth/ Besides, He Who proclaims Himself to be
our Mediator with God, is God's own Son, and Himself
true God. And ' what is man that He should be made
known to him ? Or the son of man that He should
make account of him ? ' On the other hand, what is
my confidence that I should dare to entrust myself
to so awful a Majesty ? How, I ask, can I, who am
but dust and ashes, presume to think that God hath
caie of me ? Moreover, He loves His Father, but of
me or of ' my goods He hath no need.' How, then, can
I be sure that He, my Mediator, will not take part
against me ? Yet if, indeed, as you prophets say,
God has resolved to show mercy and is ' thinking of
becoming, more favourable again/ let him establish a

* Reference to 4 Kings iv. 29. — (Translator.)

16 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

testament of peace, let Him make an everlasting cove-
nant with me by the ' kiss of His Mouth.' In order
that He may not ' make void the words that proceed
from His Lips,' let Him ' empty Himself,' let Him
humble Himself, let Him stoop down and ' kiss me
with the kiss of His Mouth.' If, as Mediator, He would
be equally trusted by both parties (God and the sinner)
and an object of suspicion to neither, let Him, the Son
of God, become man, let Him become the Son of man, "
and by this kiss establish my confidence. Securely j
shall I accept the mediation of the Son of God, ve$.
Whom I recognise a Brother. As my Brother and my
flesh I can no longer regard Him with suspicion. Nor
shall He any longer have it in His power to despise
me, being bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh."

Thus, therefore, the saints of the old time queru-
lously demanded this holy kiss, that is, the Incarnation
of the Word, whilst with the long and weary waiting,
faith got tired and was ready to faint, and the fickle
people, yielding to impatience, were murmuring against
the promises of God. This interpretation, my brethren,
I will confess to be but a baseless fancy of my own, if
you also do not find it suggested to your minds by the
words of Scripture. But surely it was this disappoint-
ment, due to the Messias's delay in coming, that called
forth cries like the following, expressive of impatience
and discontent, " Command, command again ! Expect,
expect again ! A little here, a little there ! " And
prayers like these, anxious, indeed, but full of fervour :
" Give, O Lord, a reward to those who hope in Thee,
that Thy prophets may be found faithful." Also,
" Stir up, O Lord, the prophecies which the former
prophets have spoken in Thy name." To the same

ON THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST 17

delay must be attributed the joyous and consoling
promises : " Behold " the Lord " will appear and will
not lie ; if He should delay, expect Him, because He
shall surely come and shall not be slack " ; " Her time
(viz., Israel's time of deliverance) is near and her days
shall not be lengthened." The next is spoken in the
person of the Messias Himself : " Behold, I will bring
upon her as it were a river of peace, and as an over-
flowing torrent the glory of the gentiles/' Such ex-
pressions reveal clearly to us both the insistence of the
preachers and the distrust of the people. Thus, then,
^the Israelites murmured and their faith was staggered,
and, in the words of Isaias, " the angels of peace were
weeping bitterly." Hence, as Christ still delayed His
advent, lest the whole human race should perish in
despair, suspecting that the infirmity of its mortal
condition was despised, and lest it should abandon
all hope of receiving the promised grace of recon-
ciliation with the Lord, the saints, who had assurance
from God in the Spirit, demanded a further assurance
from Him present in the flesh ; and for the sake of the
weak and incredulous, they solicited a kiss with all
importunity as the sign of a peace re-established.

O " Root of Jesse, Who standest for an Ensign of
the people ! " How many kings and prophets have
desired to see Thee and have not seen ! Happier than
all was Simeon whose " old age was crowned with
abundant mercy." He exulted in the hope of seeing
the Pledge of his desire: "he saw It and rejoiced,"
and having received the kiss of peace, departed in
peace, first proclaiming, however, that Jesus was born
as "a Sign which should be contradicted." And his
prophecy was justified in the event. Scarcely had the

i8 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Sign of peace appeared when It met with contradiction
from those, namely, who hate peace. To men of good
will It brought true peace, but to the wicked It became
"a rock of scandal and a stone of stumbling." So we
read, " Herod was troubled and all Jerusalem with
him," because " Jesus came unto His own and His
own received Him not." Happy the shepherds, in
their nightly watch, who were accounted worthy to
behold this S;gn ! Alieady was He beginning to hide
Himself from the wise and prudent and to reveal Him-
self to the little ones. Herod also desired to see H'm.
but not being a man of good will, he did not deserve
to have his desire gratified ; for the Sign of peace, that
is, Jesus, was given only to men of good will. No sign
shall be offered to men like Herod " but the sign of
Jonas the Prophet." "And this," said the angel to
the shepherds, "shall be a S'gn to you "—to you who
are humble, to you who are obedient, who are not
high-minded, who are vigilant, who " meditate day and
night on the law of God." "This," he said, "shall
be a S;gn to you." What ? That which angels have
promised, which peoples have asked for, which pro-
phets have foretold— that the Lord hath now brought
to pass and showeth to you. It is the S:gn which will
bring faith to the incredulous, hope to the despairing,
perseverance to the perfect. "This, therefore, shall be
a S:gn to you." But a S"gn of what ? A S:gn of pardon,
a S'gn of grace, a S'gn of peace that shall have no end.
"Tfrs," then, "shall be a S;gn to you, you shall find
the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes" Yes, in-
deed, but in this Infant you shall find the Great
Almighty reconciling the world to Himself. " He is to
die for your sins and to rise again for your justification,

ON THE INCARNATION OF CHRIST 19

that justified through faith, you may have peace to-
wards God." This is the Sign of peace which the
prophet of old desired King Achaz to ask of the Lord
his God, " whether in heaven above or in hell beneath."
But the impious monarch refused, miserably disbeliev-
ing that in this Sign the lowest depths and the
highest heights were to be united in peace. This will
be accomplished when Christ, descending into hell,
salutes the dwellers there, and to them also gives the
pledge of peace in a holy kiss; and returning thence to
heaven, admits the blessed spirits above to the same
embrace in everlasting sweetness.

Here I must bring my discourse to an end. But
permit me to close with a brief recapitulation. It is
evident, then, that this holy Kiss is a necessary con-
descension to the world, for two reasons : firstly, in
order to fortify the faith of the weak ; secondly, in
order to gratify the desires of the perfect. It is also
plain, I hope, that this mystical Kiss is nothing else
than the Mediator between God and men, the Man
Christ Jesus, Who, with the Father and the Holy Ghost,
liveth and reigneth for ever and ever. Amen.

SERMON III

On the Mystical Kiss of the Lord's Feet, Hand,

and Mouth.

" Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth."

Our lesson for to-day, my brethren, shall be read
from the book of experience. Turn your eyes, there-
fore, upon yourselves and let each examine his con-
science on what I shall have to say. First of all, I
should like to know if to any of you it has ever been
given to say with sincerity, " Let Him kiss me with
the kiss of His Mouth." For it is not every man that
can speak thus from his heart. But he who has even
once received this spiritual kiss from the Lips of Christ,
such a one will surely solicit again what he has learned
by experience to relish, and will ask that the favour
be repeated. In my opinion, no one can even know
what it is except him who has experienced it. It is a
V hidden manna/' for which only he who has eaten
still hungers. It is a " sealed fountain," in which " the
stranger hath no part " and for which none will thirst
save him who has drunk thereof. Listen to one who
had enjoyed the experience, soliciting a repetition of
the favour. "Render to me," he cries, "the joy of
Thy salvation." Far, then, be it from a wretch like
me, laden as I am with sins, still the sport of carnal
passions, who has never yet tasted the sweetness of
the spirit, altogether ignorant of and a stranger to in-
ternal delights— far be it from such a one to make any
pretensions to a grace so sublime !

20

MYSTICAL KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 21

However, I will point out to a soul so favoured the
position which it becomes her to occupy with regard to
her Beloved. Let her not rashly try to reach at once
the Lips of her most serene Bridegroom, but rather, like
me, let her throw herself in fear at the Feet of her most
dread Lord, trembling, and with downcast looks, and
not daring, like the Publican, to lift her gaze to heaven.
Otherwise, her eyes, accustomed only to darkness, will be
in danger of being dazzled by the lights of the spiritual
firmament and overwhelmed by the excess of its glory.
Or, blinded by the unparalleled splendours of the
Divine Majesty, they may be overcast with a cloud
of denser darkness than belonged to their former state.

0 whosoever thou be that art such a soul, do not,

1 implore thee, do not regard as mean or contemptible
that place where the holy Penitent laid aside her sins
and clothed herself in the garment of sanctity ! There
the Ethiopian woman changed her colour, being re-
stored to the whiteness of her long-lost innocence.
Then, indeed, she was able to answer those who addressed
her in words of reproach, "I am black * but beau-
tiful, O daughters of Jerusalem." Do you wonder, my
brethren, by what art she effected such a change, or
by what merits she obtained it ? I will tell you in a
few words. She " wept bitterly/' she heaved deep
sighs from her inmost heart, she was agitated in-
teriorly with salutary sobbings, and thus she spat out
the venomous humour. The heavenly Physician came

* This seems to contradict what has been said above of the
restoration to whiteness. But the contradiction is only ap-
parent. The justified soul, although given back her innocence,
and so rendered white by grace, may still be regarded as sinful
and black by reason of her former guiltiness. — (Translator.)

22 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

speedily to her aid, because His " word runneth quickly. "
Is not the word of God a spiritual medicine ? Yes,
truly, and a medicine that is " strong and active, search-
ing the heart and the reins. " As the Apostle says,
"the word of God is living and efficacious and more
penetrating than any two-edged sword, reaching unto
the division of the soul and the spirit, of the joints also
and the marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts."
After the example of this blessed Penitent, do thou
also, O miserable one, cast thyself down there that thou
mayst cease to be miserable. Do thou also prostrate
thyself upon the earth, embrace those Feet, appease
Them with kisses, bathe Them with thy tears, although
thereby not Them but thyself wilt thou be cleansing.
So shalt thou be made as one of the "shorn sheep
that cometh forth from the washing." Consequently,
thou wilt not dare to lift up thy face, overwhelmed with
shame and grief, until thou also hearest the consoling
words, " Thy sins are forgiven thee " — until thou hearest
these others, too, " Arise, arise, O captive daughter of
Si on ! arise, and shake from thee the dust."

Even after thus impressing the first kiss on the Foot,
do not raise thyself immediately to the " kiss of the
Mouth." There is another step to be taken before thou
canst attain to this, an intervening kiss, which ought
to be imprinted on the Hand. The necessity for such
a gradual approach may be explained as follows. If
Jesus should say to thee, "thy sins are forgiven thee,"
what would this avail, unless I henceforth abstained
from sin ? I have put off my tunic ; if I again put
it on, wherein have I profited ? If after washing my
feet, I soil them again, what have I gained by the
washing ? Polluted with sins of every description, I

MYSTICAL KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 23

lay prostrate long in the "mire of the dregs." Yet,
it is a worse thing to relapse after purification than
never to have been purified at all. For I remember
that He Who made me whole said to me, " Behold, thou
art made whole; go, now, sin no more lest something
worse should happen thee." * But He Who gave me the
will to repent must also give me the grace of persever-
ance. Otherwise I shall repeat the crimes I now repent
of, and make my "last state worse than the first."
Woe to me, even after my conversion, if He with-
draws His Hand, without Wrhom I can do nothing — abso-
lutely nothing, either towards the recovery or towards
the preservation of grace. Hence I hear the Wise
Man counselling, " Repeat not a word in prayer."
Another cause of fear to me is the threat pronounced
by the Judge against the "tree that bringeth not forth
good fruit." On account of such considerations, I
confess that the first grace, that is, the grace of repent-
ance, does not quite content me. I still require a
second grace, which shall enable me to " bring forth
fruits worthy of penance," and prevent me from
" returning to the vomit."

It behoves me, then, to impetrate the grace of con-
version and perseverance before I aspire to things
higher and holier. I do not want to reach all at once
the summit of sanctity. I prefer to mount thither
step by step. God is pleased with the modesty of the
penitent in the same degree in which the sinner's bold-
ness offends H'm. Thou wilt more easily gain His
favour by keeping within due bounds, and by not
ambitioning what is too high for thee. From the Feet

* Quoted thus with amplification from John v. 14. —
(Translator.)

24 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to the Mouth is a high and difficult leap, and a way of
approach not quite becoming. What ! Still bestrewn
with the ashes of penitence, wilt thou dare to touch
those sacred Lips ? Only yesterday drawn out of the
mire of thy sins, dost thou want to be admitted to-day
to the contemplation of the glory of His Countenance ?
No ! thou canst not attain to that sublimity without
using the step of His Hand. Let It first cleanse thee, let
It lift thee up. How shall It do this ? By supplying
thee with the merits whereon thou mayst presume.
Dost thou ask what these merits are ? I will tell thee.
They are the works of piety, viz., the beauty of con-
tinence and the worthy fruits of penance. By them
thou shalt be raised up from the dunghill unto the
hope of hearing greater things. Surely in receiving the
gifts, thou Wilt not forget to kiss the Hand of the Giver.
That is, thou must give glory, not to thyself, but to
His name. And thou must give Him this glory, not'
alone for His mercy in pardoning thy sins, but also
for His generosity in adorning thee with virtues. Other-
wise thou wilt have to see how thou canst harden thy
forehead against this sharp-pointed reproach of St.
Paul : " What hast thou which thou hast not received ?
And if thou hast received it, why dost thou glory as
if thou hadst not received it ? "

Having thus obtained in these two kisses experi-
mental proof of the divine benevolence, perhaps thou
mayst now aspire with security to the third and holier
kiss. Confidence increases proportionately with our
grace. Hence it is that whilst thou now lovest more
ardently, thou dost also ask more confidently for that
which thou perceivest to be still wanting to thy fulness.
Now, "everyone that asketh, receiveth." Therefore, I

MYSTICAL KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 25

believe that, to one so disposed, this kiss of infinite
condescension and indescribable sweetness, whatever it
may be, will not be denied. This is the way and this
is the order. First, we cast ourselves at the Feet of
Christ, and before the Lord Who made us we lament
the evils which we ourselves have made. Secondly, we
ask the help of His Hand to lift us up and to " strengthen
the feeble knees." Thirdly, when we have obtained
these favours by many prayers and tears, then, at
last — with fear and trembling I say it — perhaps, then ,
we may venture to raise ourselves to that divinely
glorious Mouth, not merely to contemplate Its beauty,
but even to enjoy Its kiss. For "Christ is a Spirit
before our face/' * with Whom We shall be made one
Spirit, through His gracious mercy, by uniting our-
selves to Him in this holy kiss.

To Thee, Lord Jesus, rightly " to Thee hath my
heart said : my face hath sought Thee ; Thy Face, O
Lord, will I still seek, because Thou didst make me
hear Thy mercy in the morning." That is to say,
Thou didst pardon my sinful life, when at first I lay
prostrate in the dust, kissing Thy venerable Feet.
Afterwards, in the course of the day, "Thou didst
rejoice the soul of Thy servant," by granting me the
grace of well-doing in the kiss of Thy Hand. And now
sweet Lord, what remains except graciously to admit

* " Spiiitus ante faciem nostram Christus Dominus " (Jer.
Lament, iv. 20). In the Vulgate we have " Spiritus oris nostri
Christus Dominus," translated in the Douay Version, " The
Breath of our mouth, Christ the Lord," which is more in accord
with the Greek, Uvcvfia TvpoaaiTvov rjpoiv Xpicrros avptos. St.
Bernard's reading is found with other Fathers also, for instance
with St. Ambrose. Very likely it is taken from the Itala or
some other ancient version. — (Translator.)

26 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

me even to the kiss of Thy Mouth in the plenitude of
light and in fervour of spirit, and so to "fill me with
the joy of Thy Countenance " ? Show me, O Most Sweet,
O Most Amiable, "where Thou feedest, where Thou
liest in the mid-day ,J ! My brethren, " it is good for
us to be here," but, behold ! the malice of the day *
summons us elsewhere. These guests, whose arrival
has just been announced, compel me to interrupt rather
than conclude so pleasant a discourse. I go to dis-
charge the duties of hospitality, lest anything should
be wanting in the exercise of that charity of which I
have been speaking, and lest of us also it should be/
said, "for they say and do not." Do you meantime
pray that God may " make pleasing the voluntary
offerings of my mouth " for your edification and
unto the praise and glory of His Name. Amen.

* Reference to Matthew vi. 34 : "Sufficient for the day is
the evil thereof " (malitia sua). It is assumed in this sermon
(see p. 24) that merits or good works are the gift of God. Such
is St. Augustine's teaching: "Merita tua, si bona sunt, Dei
dona sunt." But if gifts, how merits ? St. Bernard explains
in chapter xiii. of his book on Grace and Free Will. What is
a gift as the fruit of God's free grace, is merit as the fruit of
our co-operation. — (Translator.)

SERMON IV

On the Three Stages of the Soul's Progress,
symbolised by the klss of christ's feet,
Hand, and Mouth.

" Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth,"

Yesterday, my brethren, if you recollect, I treated
of the three stages, so to speak, of the soul's journey
towards perfection, under the figure of three kisses.
The same subject shall occupy me in to-day's discourse,
according as God, in His sweetness, shall deign to pro-
vide for my poverty. I observed, as you will remember,
that those three kisses are given in due order — to the
Feet, to the Hand, and to the Mouth of the Bridegroom.
By the first we consecrate the beginnings of our con-
version, the second is the privilege of proficients, whilst
only the few who attain perfection can experience the
third. It is from this, which is last in order, that the
inspired Book, which I have undertaken to expound,
takes its commencement. The two other kisses I have
merely introduced on its account, viz., to make its
meaning and dignity more clearly intelligible. Whether
their introduction is really necessary to this end, it will
be for you, my brethren, to judge. To me it seems
that the very language of the text invites us to the
consideration of these prerequisite embraces. And I
shall be surprised if you also do not see that there
must be some other kiss or kisses from which that of

the mouth is meant to be distinguished by her who

27

28 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

said, " Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth/'
Otherwise, when it would have sufficed to say, " let
Him kiss me," why did she add distinctly and explicitly
and against the common custom and usage in speech,
" with the kiss of His Mouth " ? The only explanation
is that thereby she intended to signify that the kiss
she asked for, though supreme, was not solitary. In
human society the expressions, "kiss me," or " give
me a kiss," are familiar enough. But no one ever
thinks of adding "with your mouth," or "with the
kiss of your mouth." Why ? Because when persons
embrace in this manner they present their lips to each
other, as a matter of course, and without its being
expressly asked. For instance, the Evangelist, in nar-
rating how the Traitor Was permitted to salute the Lord,
simply says, " And he kissed Him," and does not add,
" with his mouth " or " with the kiss of his mouth."
And such is the custom of all writers and speakers.
The threefold distinction of kisses, therefore, corre-
sponds to three states of the soul, or three stages of her
progress, fully known and understood only by those
who have learned them by experience. And this ex-v
perience is had when our sins are pardoned, or grace
given for practising virtue, or when our merciful and
benevolent God unveils His Face to our contemplation,
so far as, in this mortal life, our weakness can endure
that vision of glory.

I will explain more clearly why I call the first and
second of those favours by the name of kisses. We
all know that a kiss is a sign of peace. Now, as Holy
Scripture says, "our sins separate us from God."
If, then, We break down this wall of separation there
shall be peace. Hence, when we remove, by penance,

THREE STAGES OF THE SOUL'S PROGRESS 29

the obstruction of sin and are reconciled, how can I
more suitably describe the forgiveness we obtain than
by naming it the kiss of peace ? Yet it is only the Feet
we should now presume to kiss. That is to say, our
penance ought to be humble and shy, as making re-
paration for the pride of our former transgressions.
But when, later on, we have been admitted to a certain :
sweet familiarity by a more abundant infusion of
grace, whereby We are enabled to live more purely
and to converse more worthily with God, then We may
lift up our heads with greater confidence, in order to
kiss the Hand of our Benefactor, as is the custom
amongst men . Yet we do this then only when We seek
in the grace bestowed, not our own glory, but the glory
of the Giver, ascribing to His bounty, rather than to
any merit of our own, all that we receive. For if you
glory not in Him but in yourselves, what is that but
kissing your own hand rather than the Hand of the
Lord ? And this, according to holy Job, is " a very
great iniquity and a denial against the Most High
God/' Now, if, as Holy Scripture testifies, to seek
one's own glory is to kiss one's own hand, it follows
that he who seeks the glory of God may rightly be said
to kiss His Hand. What I have said is paralleled even
in human customs. Thus, servants, when begging
pardon of their offended masters, are wont to kiss their
feet, whereas the poor kiss the hand of the rich when-
ever they receive an alms.

However, as God is a Spirit, a simple Substance with
no distinction of corporeal members, there may be some
who will raise objections to what I have been saying.
I may be challenged to show that the Deity has
and Feet which can be kissed in the way I have

30 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

described. But what if I, in my turn, ask such critics to
explain to me how the words of Scripture concerning
this kiss of the Mouth are to be undei stood of God ?
For in whatever sense He may be said to possess a
Mouth, in the same I may speak of Him as having
Hands and Feet. And, contrariwise, in so far as He
lacks the latter members, He lacks the former, too.
But, in truth, God has a Mouth by which He " teaches
men knowledge," and He has Hands by which He gives
" food to all flesh," and He has Feet whereof the " earth
is the footstool " — which signifies that sinners of the earth
turn to these Feet, and prostrating themselves there,
make due satisfaction. All such members and faculties,
I say, God possesses, not formally or materially, but
spiritually and virtually. Assuredly, no one will deny
that humble contrition finds in Him something answer-
ing to feet, before which it may cast itself down ; that
fervent devotion finds something answering to hands,
which strengthens it by renewing its vigour ; that
joyous contemplation, too, finds something correspond-
ing to a mouth, which, as by a kiss, gives content and
rest to its rapturous love. He is all things to all Who
governs all, and yet is not properly any of all. For,
as He is in Himself, " He dwelleth in light inaccessible,"
and His " peace surpasseth all understanding," and " of
His wisdom there is no number," and " of His great-
ness there is no end." Neither can any " man see
Him and live." Not, indeed, that He is far from any
of His creatures, for He is, in a sense, the Being of all,
without Whom all are nothing ; but because — and this
will increase your astonishment — just as there is nothing
more intimate to us than He, so is there nothing more
incomprehensible. What, I ask, is more intimate to

THREE STAGES OF THE SOUL'S PROGRESS 31

each than his being ? Yet what more incomprehensible
than the Being of all things ? Of course, I am speaking
of God as the Being of all His creatures, not in the sense
that they are what He is, but because " from Him, and
by Him, and in Him are all." The Creator, then, is
the Being of all that He has made, but efficiently, not
formally. It is thus that the Divine Majesty con-
descends to be to His creatures, the Being of all that
are, the Life of all that live, the Light of all that think,
the Virtue of all who use that Light well, and the Crown
of all who conquer. And in creating, governing, admin-
istering, moving, predetermining, renewing, establishing
these various orders of things, He has need of no cor-
poreal instruments, Who, with a single word, created all
things, material and immaterial. Human souls require
bodies and bodily senses in order to know and io act
upon each other. Not so the Almighty. From His
own Will exclusively He derives the energy required
for producing creatures and ordering them as He pleases.
His power reaches to whatsoever He wills, and as He
wills, without need or use for corporeal members. Or
do you suppose that He depends on the service of a
bodily sense to contemplate the things which His Hands
have made ? No ! He is the L;ght omnipresent which
nothing can ever escape, yet He needs not the ministry
of sensitive faculties to put Him in possession of knowl-
edge. And not alone does He know all things without
a bodily medium, but also, without a bodily medium
He reveals Himself to the clean of heart. I will enlarge
upon this in order to make it plainer. But as the time
that remains is too short to allow me to say all I have
to say, it will be wiser to reserve the rest until
to-morrow.

f

SERMON V
On the Four Orders of Spirits.

" Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth."

There are, as you know, my brethren, four distinct
kinds of spirits, the irrational, the human, the angelic,
and the Divine, the last being the Creator of all the
others. Of these various orders, there is none but
requires a body, natural or assumed, either for its
own use, or for the needs of others, or for the sake
both of itself and others — none, save the fourth, to
Whom all creatures, whether corporeal or incorporeal,
truly confess and say, " Thou art my God, because
Thou dost not need my goods." In the first place, it
is evident that the irrational spirit is so dependent on
its body that without its support it cannot exist at all.
When the brute dies its spirit ceases to be at the same
moment at which it ceases to vivify. Our spirits, on
the other hand, survive our bodies ; yet to those things
which make life really happy, we have no means of at-
taining except through the bodies. This truth was not
unknown to him who said, " The invisible things of God
are clearly seer, being understood by the things that
are made." For "the things that are made," that is,
those corporeal and visible things, cannot enter into
our knowledge except through the avenues of our
bodily senses. The human soul, therefore, spiritual
creature though she be, has need of a body, as without
the help of this she could never acquire that science

32

ON THE FOUR ORDERS OF SPIRITS 33

which, like a ladder, enables her to mount up to those
higher realities, in the contemplation of which she finds
her happiness. Here the case of infants who die soon
after baptism may be urged against me as an objection.
Our faith teaches us that the souls of such, departing
the present life without the knowledge of sensible
things are, nevertheless, admitted to the bliss of heaven.
I answer briefly that they have this, not as a right from
nature, but as a privilege from grace. Hence, as I am
speaking now only of what happens in the ordinary
course and by natural law, no argument against me
can be derived from such extraordinary interpositions.
That bodies are necessary, even to angelic spirits, is
sufficiently evident from that true and truly inspired
utterance of the Apostle : " Are they not ministering
spirits, sent to minister for those who shall receive the
inheritance of salvation ? " How, therefore, could they
exercise their ministry without bodies, especially with
regard to those who dwell in bodies ? Moreover, it is
only bodily substances * that can traverse space, and
pass from one point to another. Yet we have it on
authority, as indubitable as well known, that the
angels frequently do this. Hence it is that they
appeared to the fathers, entered their dwellings, eat
with them, and had their feet washed. Thus, both

* This opinion, now abandoned, has been defended by philo-
sophers before and after St. Bernard. Even Aristotle himself
distinctly teaches that the indivisible is per se incapable of locomo-
tion. Indeed, it seems to have been this difficulty of conceiving
how that which has no extension in space, can yet, of itself, pass
from one point of space to another, that led so many doctors
to regard the angelic nature as essentially material. And hence,
when the latter view lost favour, the former was also discredited.
For the various scholastic theories of angelic locomotion, see
Suarez, De Avgelis, Bk. IV. chap, i.-xxiv. — (Translator.)
It c

34 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the angelic and the brute spirit have need of bodies,
but rather as instruments to be employed for the
good of others than as sources of benefit to them-
selves. The brute, as under a natural law of slavery,
subserves human interests by ministering to our tem-
poral and corporeal necessities. Consequently, its spirit
passes with time and is extinguished with the body ;
for "the slave abideth not in the house for ever."
Yet if we use the slave as we ought, we shall turn
the benefit of its temporal service into merit for our-
selves of an eternal reward. But the angels, in the
spirit of liberty, are anxiously solicitous to exercise
towards us the offices of piety, and show themselves
to mortals as willing and eager ministers " of future
goods," recognising in us their predestined com-
panions for eternity and the co-heirs of their own
immortal felicity. The irrational spirits, therefore,
serve us from necessity, the angelic out of love ; and,/
doubtless, it is as a means of benefiting us that both
have need of bodies. What advantage they themselves
derive therefrom, I am unable to see — at any rate with
regard to eternity. The brute, indeed, by means of the
body, is able to perceive corporeal objects. But surely
it has not the power, by the help of such material
and concrete impressions as bodily senses supply, to
raise itself to the perception of spiritual and intel-
lectual realities. Nevertheless, whilst unable itself to
attain to such knowledge, it helps thereto, as we know,
by its corporeal and temporal service, those amongst
men who strive to draw eternal profit from the use of
all transitory things, " using the world as though they
used it not."

But the blessed angels above, without the aid of a

ON THE FOUR ORDERS OF SPIRITS 35

body and without the intuition of objects perceptible
to bodily senses, by the mere spirituality and subtlety
of their natures, are capable alike of comprehending
what is most exalted and of penetrating what is most
profound. The Apostle evidently realised this, because
after saying that " the invisible things of God are clearly
seen, being understood by the things that are made,"
he immediately added, " by the creature of the world,"
that is, of the earth.* He thus indicates that the
same is not true of the creatures of heaven. For those
objects of contemplation to which the human spirit,
imprisoned in the flesh and dwelling here below, en-
deavours to rise, little by little and step by step, from
the consideration of material things, the same are
reached swiftly and easily by the angelic citizens of
heaven, owing to their native sublimity and penetra-
tion, without any dependence on corporeal sense,
without any assistance from bodily members, without
any intuition of material things. Why should they
seek in bodies for those spiritual communications which
they can read in the Book of Life without any contra-
diction, and understand without any difficulty ? Why1
should they labour in the sweat of their brow to winnow
the grain from the chaff, to press out the wine from the
grapes, or the oil from the olives, when they have an
abundance and a superabundance of such things ready
to hand ? Who, having plenty at home, would beg his
bread from door to door ? Who would dig a well and
laboriously search for water in the bowels of the earth,
whilst a living, natural fountain poured its limpid

* So the holy Preacher interprets the expression "a creatura
mundi," which indeed can bear this translation, although the
usual rendering is " from the creation of the world." The Greek
is equally ambiguous. — (Translator.)

36 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

treasures with unfailing generosity at his feet ? There-
fore, neither the angelic nor irrational spirits derive any
assistance from their bodies as regards the acquisition
of that knowledge which can make the intelligent
creature happy. The latter, as being naturally stupid,
lack the capacity for such enlightenment ; the former,
as enjoying the prerogative of a more excellent glory,
have no need of it. But the spirit of man, occupying
the middle place between the angelic and the brute,
has need of a body for its own advancement in knowl-
edge and for rendering service to others. Thus, to say
nothing of the other bodily members or their functions,
how, I ask, could instruction be imparted without a
corporeal tongue, or attended to without corporeal
ears ?

As, therefoie, without the help of a body the servile
spirit of the brute cannot discharge the duty of its
condition, nor the heavenly and angelic exercise the
offices of piety, nor the rational spirit of man suffice .
to consult for its own or its neighbour's salvation, it
follows that every created spirit requires the agency
of bodily members, either solely on account of others
or for the sake both of itself and others. But what if
there be found some irrational creatures of which we
can discover no use and which minister to no human
necessity ? I answer that, although not otherwise
useful, they render us more Important service by fur-
nishing objects of contemplation to our minds, than they
could possibly do by supplying the needs of our bod}\
Even allowing that some are dangerous and detri-
mental to man's material well-being, still their bodies
do not lack wherewith to " co-operate unto good to
such as, according to His purpose, are called to be

ON THE FOUR ORDERS OF SPIRITS 37

saints." And if they do not serve us by becoming
our food, or by otherwise accomplishing our purposes,
they do so, at least, by exercising our intelligence, ac-
cording to that measure and method of instruction,
common to all who enjoy the use of reason, whereby
the invisible things of God are clearly seen, being under-
stood by the things that are made." The devil and
his satellites are, indeed, always intent on evil and
always desire our hurt. But God forbid that they
should have the power to harm those who are " zealous
of good," to whom it is said, " and who is he that
can hurt you if you be zealous of good ? " Rather
they benefit them, even in spite of themselves, and
" co-operate unto good " for those who are themselves
good.

As to whether the angelic bodies,* like the human,
are naturally united to their indwelling spirits, so that
the angel, just as man, is an animal, only differing from
us in being immortal, which we are not as yet ; whether
these celestial creatures can change their bodies at their
pleasure, and appear, when they wish to appear, in
whatever shape and form they like, condensing and
solidifying as they please the material envelopes which,
nevertheless, in their own real nature by reason of the
subtlety of their essence are entirely impalpable and
imperceptible to our senses ; or whether, finally, they
subsist as simple spiritual substances, which, when they
have need, assume to themselves a body, and lay it down

* The Saint's uncertainty as to whether the angels are pure
spirits (expressed also in the De Considerations, Bk. V. c. iv.),
will not surprise us when we remember that in his time this
question was still an open one, with grave authorities on either
side. Now, however, the consensus of theologians has settled
the question in favour of immateriality.— (Translator.)

38 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

again, when no longer necessary, to be dissolved into
the elements whence it was formed — to these questions,
my brethren, do not look to me for an answer. The
fathers seem to have held different views on the matter.
And for myself, I confess I do not see my way clear to
teach one thing or the other. However, I do not sup-
pose that knowledge of this kmd would contribute
much towards our advancement in virtue.

Yet be assured of this, that no created spirit can
directly act upon our souls. I mean to say, that with-
out the medium of a bodily instrument, whether its own
or ours, no creature has the power of so communicating
and infusing itself into our minds as thereby to render
us learned or more learned, virtuous or more virtuous.*
No angelic, no human spirit is capable of affecting me
in this way, any more than I am capable of so affecting
them. The blessed angels have not even this power
with regard to each other. It is, therefore, the incom-
municable prerogative of that supreme and all-pervad- N
ing Spirit, Who alone " teach eth knowledge" to angels
and men, without requiring on the creature's side the
medium of a bodily ear, or on His own the instrumenta-

* Quoted by Suarez, De Angelis, Bk. VI. chap, xvi., as con-
firmatory of his thesis that angels can act upon the human mind
only indirectly, through the medium of the imagination. St.
Bernard expresses himself more clearly on this question in his
work De Consider atione, Bk. V. chap, v., where he says that
" an angel is present to the soul not as working good in her, but
merely as suggesting good thoughts ; not as making her virtuous,
but only as inciting her to virtue. But the Divine Indwelling
affects the soul immediately by an infusion of graces, or rather
by an infusion and communication of the Divine Substance
Itself, so that God may be said to be one spirit with ours, although
not one person or one substance. The angel, therefore, is with
the soul, but God is in her. The angel is present as the soul's
companion, God as her life." — (Translator.)

ON THE FOUR ORDERS OF SPIRITS 39

lity of a material tongue. This Divine Spirit communi-
cates Himself directly, He reveals Himself directly, and
pure Himself, is readily perceived by pure minds. He
alone has need of rfothing, being alone sufficient for Him-
self, and, in virtue of His omnipotent Will, for all be-
sides. Nevertheless, He exercises great and innumerable
operations by means of His subject creatures, material
and immaterial. But He does so rather as commanding
than as soliciting. See, for example, how He makes
use now of my corporeal tongue to do His work in in-
structing you, although He could, doubtless, instruct
you Himself directly with infinitely greater facility and
sweetness. His employment of my agency is, therefore,
not a dependence on, but a condescension to me. So
in promoting your spiritual interests by my means what
He seeks is not assistance for Himself but merit for me.

Such, my brethren, must be the conviction of every
man engaged in doing good, lest perchance he should
begin to glory in himself on account of the gifts of God,
instead of glorying in the Lord. Yet there are some who
do good against their will, namely, wicked men and
fallen angels. In this case, it is clear the good that
is done by their means is not done for their sakes,
since no goodness can benefit a free agent without his
consent. Hence such unwilling instruments have but
the dispensation of whatever good they perform. Yet
somehow or other, we experience greater satisfaction
and pleasure in the benefits conferred upon us by these
wicked dispensers than in any others. And perhaps
this is the reason why God makes use of the wicked
to benefit the just, rather than any need He has of
their co-operation in well-doing.

If the Almighty stands in no need of angels or men,

4o ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

much less, doubtless, does He depend on creatures
which lack either reason alone or both sense and
reason. Consequently, their concurrence in good makes
it apparent how " all things serve Him," Who can
truly say, " The earth is Mine." Or at any rate, it
may be said that He employs such agencies, not
because He needs their help, but only for reasons of
fitness, as knowing from what particular causes par-
ticular effects might most fittingly proceed. Whilst,
then, the ministry of bodies is often and suitably
exercised in accomplishing the divine purposes, as,
for instance, in quickening seed, in multiplying crops,
and in ripening fruit, what need has He of a body
of His own, Whose will is manifestly obeyed by all
bodies, celestial and terrestrial, without distinction as
without delay ? Such a body, surely, would be super-
fluous in Him Who finds no body not His own. But
to say all that occurs to be said on this subject would
prolong this discourse beyond all reasonable limits,
and perhaps overtax the powers of some of you.
Let us, therefore, reserve what remains for another
sermon.*

* In this sermon the Saint seems to contradict himself, in
one place positively affirming that the angels have need of
bodies, and in another confessing his ignorance. But the two
positions are quite consistent. He is certain that the angels
require a body to act on matter — which is the common opinion ;
his doubt concerns the question as to whether bodies belong to
their essential constitution. — (Translator.)

SERMON VI
On the Kiss of the Lord's Feet.

" Let Him kiss me with tlic kiss of His Mouth."

In order to connect the present with my last dis-
course, I wish you, my brethren, to recall what I said
yesterday, namely, that only the supreme and all-
pervading Spirit is independent of bodily service and
agency in all that He wills to do or to be done. Let
us, then, confidently vindicate for God alone a perfect
immateriality, just as in Him alone we recognise a
perfect immortality.* Let us be convinced that He
alone amongst all spirits transcends corporeal nature
to such an extent, that for no operation whatsoever
is He in any sense dependent on material instruments.
His mere spiritual fiat is adequate to the accomplish-
ment of all He wills to effect and when He wills. There-
fore, that Divine Majesty alone stands in need of no
co-operation of bodily members either for His own sake
or for the sake of His creatures. To His almighty
Will accomplishment always answers promptly and

* The Saint evidently means that God alone possesses both
intrinsic and extrinsic immortality. The former, common to
all spiritual substances, is simply immunity from death by
corruption of essence. The latter means indestructibility by
external force, and is incommunicable to creatures, being but
another name for self-existence. St. Thomas (Summ. Theol.,
p. I. q. LI.) comments on this passage, and shows that it does
not necessarily exclude the view of the immateriality of the
angels. — (Translator.)

4i

42 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

immediately, everything exalted bends, everything
contrary yields, everything created renders obedience,
without His requiring thereto the assistance of any
intermediate agency, spiritual or corporeal. Without
a tongue He teaches and admonishes, without hands
He gives and holds, without feet He runs to the
help of those who are perishing. So He acted even
with the generations of the olden time. Men were
constantly enjoying His benefits, but of their Bene-
factor Himself, they had no knowledge. Even then
was He " reaching from end to end mightily " ; yet
they did not observe Him, because He was at the
same time " disposing all things sweetly." And so they
rejoiced in the gifts of God, whilst the Lord of the Sab-
bath, as judging all with tranquillity, remained entirely
unknown and unnoticed. From Him they were, but
they wrere not with Him. By Him they lived, but they
lived not to Him. From Him they had understanding,
but not of Him, apostates, ingrates, fools that they
were ! Hence it came to pass that they attributed
their being, their life, and their intelligence, not to the
Creator, but some to nature, others more stupidly, to
chance. Many also ascribed to their own industry and
virtue what were but multiplied gifts from above. The
evil spirits, too, by their own craft, were credited with
the authorship of innumerable divine benefactions, as
well as the sun and moon, the earth and the water, and
even the works of human hands ! Plants, trees, the
most minute and contemptible seeds Were Worshipped
as gods !

Alas, my brethren, it was thus that men lost and
" changed their glory into the likeness of a calf that
eateth grass '* ! But God, compassionating their ignor-

ON THE KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 43

ance, deigned to issue forth from His hill of clouds
and shadows and "hath set His tabernacle in the
sun." He presented Himself in flesh to those who
relished only things of the flesh, in order thereby to
lead them to relish the things of the spiiit. For whilst
in the flesh He did not the works of the flesh, but the
works of God, commanding nature, over-ruling her
laws, stultifjdng the wisdom of men, and beating down
the tyranny of demons ; and in this way He clearly
showed that it was by His power such miracles had
ever been performed, even in the times previous to
His coming. Thus, I say, by publicly and powerfully
working wonders, in the flesh and by the flesh, by an-
nouncing the truths of salvation, and by enduring the
indignities of His Passion, He made it plainly manifest
that it was He Who powerfully , if invisibly, created the
world, Who wisely governs it and lovingly protects it.
And when He preached the Gospel to the ungrateful,
and offered signs to unbelievers, and prayed for His
executioners, did He not thus evidently indicate that
He is the same Who, with the Father, makes His sun
to rise daily " on the good and the wicked and rains
upon the just and the unjust " ? This is what He said
Himself : " If I do not the works of My Father, believe
Me not."

Behold, my brethren, He Who without words teaches
the angels in heaven, now opens His Mouth of flesh
to teach the disciples on the mount ! Behold, at
the touch of His corporeal Hand, lepers are cleansed,
sight is given to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech
to the dumb, and the sinking Apostle is raised to se-
curity ; and thus He stands revealed as the Benefactor
to Whom the Prophet David had said long before,

44 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

"Thou openest Thy Hand and fillest with blessing
every living creature/' and, "When Thou openest
Thy Hand they shall all be filled with good." Behold,
the Magdalen, now penitent and prostrate at His Feet
of flesh, hears the sentence of pardon, " Thy sins are
forgiven thee." And by this she recognises Him of
Whom she had read what was Written centuries earlier,
"The devil shall go out before His Feet." For where
her sins were pardoned, there doubtless the devil was
expelled from her heart. Hence, the Saviour said,
speaking generally of all penitents, " Now is the judg-
ment of the world, now the prince of this world shall
be cast out." That is to say, God will forgive sins
when humbly confessed, and so Satan shall lose the
dominion which he had usurped over the sinner's heart.
Again, He walks on the waves with His bodily Feet,
as the Prophet sang of Him before He had as yet re-
vealed Himself in the flesh, "Thy way is in the sea
and Thy paths in many waters." As if he should say,
" Thou shalt trample down the swelling ambitions of
the proud, and bridle the fluctuating passions of the
flesh," which, indeed, He does by justifying the wicked
and humbling the high-minded. Yet, because this is
done invisibly, the carnal man cannot perceive by
Whom it is accomplished. Hence the Psalmist adds,
"and Thy footsteps shall not be known." Hence,
also, the Father said to the Son, " Sit Thou at My
right hand until I make Thy enemies Thy footstool,"
that is, " until I make all who despise Thee submit to
Thy will, either unwillingly and to their destruction, or
voluntarily and to their bliss." But this work of the
Spirit was not perceptible to flesh, for " the sensual man
perceiveth not these things that are of the Spirit of God."

ON THE KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 45

Therefore it was necessary that the contrite Magdalen
should prostrate herself bodily at His bodily Feet,
and, kissing these same Feet with her bodily lips, so
obtain the pardon of her sins. And thus can "this
change of the Right Hand of the Most High," whereby
He marvellously, though invisibly, justifies the impious,
be made manifest even to carnal minds.

I must not, however, pass over those spiritual Feet of
the Lord, which it is necessary that the penitent should,
in the first place, kiss spiritually. For well I know, my
brethren, how piously curious you are with regard to
such matters, and how you would like to let nothing
go unscrutinised. Nor does it seem to me that We
should gain nothing by knowing what are those Feet,
wherewith Holy Scripture represents God at one time
as standing, as in the verse, " We shall adore in the
place where His Feet have stood " ; at another as
walking : "I will dwell with them and will walk
amongst them " ; and at still another as running :
"He exulted as a giant to run His course. " If, then,
the Apostle considered it right to refer the Head* of
Christ to His Divinity, it ought not to appear unreason-
able in me if I understand His Feet as signifying His
Humanity. These Feet I consider to be mercy and
justice. The two words are familiar enough to you.
They occur together, if you remember, in numerous
passages of Scripture. Now, that the Lord assumed the
Foot of mercy together With the Flesh to which He
is united, is evident from the Epistle to the Hebrews.

* The allusion is to 1 Cor. xi. 3 : " But I would have you
know that the head of every man is Christ, and the head of the
woman is the man, and the head of Christ is God." The Saint's
interpretation is merely an accommodation. — (Translator.)

46 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Therein we read that Christ " was tempted in all
things like as we are, without sin," " that He might
become merciful." As regards the second Foot, which
I take to mean justice, does not the Incarnate Word
Himself plainly imply that it also was assumed with
and belongs to the Humanity, where He declares that
the Father has given Him " power to do judgment
because He is the Son of Man " ?

Moving evenly, therefore, on these two spiritual Feet,
under the guidance of the Divinity as Head, the invisible
Emmanuel, " born of a woman, made under the law,"
revealed Himself on earth and conversed amongst men.
With these same Feet He is still, though spiritually
now and invisibly, " going about doing good and heal-
ing all that are oppressed by the devil." With these,
I say, He walks through living souls, constantly illu-
minating them, and searching the " hearts and reins "
of the faithful. But, see, lest perchance these should be
the Legs of the Bridegroom, which, in a following verse,
the Bride praises so magnificently, comparing them, if I
remember aright, to " pillars of marble, set upon bases of
gold." This description is extremely beautiful, because
" mercy and truth," that is to say, justice, signified by
the Legs, " have met " in the Incarnate Wisdom of God,
and gold is the symbol of wisdom. Furthermore, " All
the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth."

Happy the man, my brethren, in whose soul the
Lord Jesus sets both these Feet of His ! By two signs
you may recognise him, for one so privileged must
of necessity bear upon him the impress of the divine
footsteps. These footprints are hope and fear ; the
latter impressed by justice, the former by mercy. Truly
" the Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him, and

ON THE KISS OF THE LORD'S FEET 47

in them that hope in His mercy," because " fear is the
beginning of wisdom," as hope is its development. As
for the consummation of wisdom, We must pronounce
that to be charity. Such being the case, you will
understand that there is no small advantage in this
first kiss, which is given to the Feet. Only you have
to make sure of kissing both, omitting neither. When
you feel a sincere sorrow for your sins, and a fear of
the divine judgment, you have pressed your lips to
the Foot of truth and justice. And if you moderate
your terror and grief by the consideration of the divine
goodness and by the hope of obtaining pardon, be
assured that you have also kissed the Foot of mercy.
But to kiss one without the other is not expedient.
The thought of justice a] one will cast you into the gulf
of despair, whilst a deceptive reliance on mercy will
engender a most dangerous sense of security.

Even to me, miserable as I am, it has sometimes
been given to sit at the Feet of the Lord Jesus, and
to embrace, with all devotion, now one, now the other,
in so far as His gracious mercy deigned to permit.
But whenever, under the sting of my conscience, I
lost sight of the divine mercy, and clung a little too
long to the Foot of justice, immediately I became
oppressed with an indescribable terror and a miserable
confusion, and, enveloped in a most horrible darkness,
I could only cry tremblingly " from out of the depths,"
' Who knoweth the power of Thy anger, and for Thy
fear can number Thy wrath ? " Yet if, leaving the
Foot of justice, I should chance to lay hold on that of
mercy, such carelessness and negligence took instant
possession of me, that I straightway grew more tepid
at prayer, more slothful at work, more ready for

48 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

laughter, more imprudent in speech — in short, my
whole being, body and soul, showed evidence of greater
inconstancy. Therefore, taught by experience, no
longer judgment alone or mercy alone, but both " mercy
and judgment I will sing to Thee, O Lord." " Thy
justifications I will never forget." Both these, Thy
mercy and Thy justice, shall be "the subjects of my
song in the place of my pilgrimage," until, mercy
having been exalted over justice, misery " shall shut her
month," so that thenceforward only "my glory may
sing to Thee and I shall not regret."

SERMON VII

On the Love of the Spouse, and on the Attention
due to the word of god.

" Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth**

I have brought trouble upon myself, my brethren,
by needlessly exciting your pious curiosity. Because,
in connexion with the first kiss, I was at pains to ex-
plain, and at unnecessary length, the spiritual Feet of
the Lord, with their special names and significations,
you are now anxious for an explanation of the Hand
which, as I have said, must be kissed in the second
place. Well, I am not unwilling to gratify youi wishes.
Nay, I will speak not of one Hand, but of two, and
will give to each its proper name. Let the one be called
Liberality, the other Fortitude. With the former God
gives abundantly, with the latter He protects what
He has bestowed. If We are not to be reputed ingrates,
we shall kiss both, by acknowledging and proclaiming
Him, not only as the Author of all good, but as the
Preserver of the same. Let this suffice for the first
and the second kiss. We must now proceed to the
consideration of the third.

" Let Him kiss me," she says, " with the kiss of
His Mouth." Who is she that makes the request ? It
is the Spouse. But who is this Spouse ? The Spouse
here, my brethren, is the soul that thirsts after God.
I will now run over the various species and mani-
festations of human affection or disposition, in order

that you may the more clearly perceive which one
I. 49 d

50 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

appertains to the Spouse. If thou be a slave, thou
dost fear the face of thy lord ; if thou be a mercen-
ary, thou dost hope to receive thine hire at his hands ;
if thou be a disciple, thou dost attend to the instruc-
tions of thy master ; if thou be a son? thou dost
honour him who is thy father ; but if thou be a lover,
thou wilt ask thy beloved for a kiss. Amongst the
natural emotions of the human soul, this affection of
love holds the first place, especially when it reverts to
its first Principle, which is God. No words can be found
sweet enough to convey an idea of the tenderness of
the mutual affection of the Divine Word and the soul,
except the names Bridegroom and Bride. 'For persons
so related have all things in common. Nothing can be
either appropriated to the one or sequestered from the
other. They must have one and the same inheritance,
one and the same hearth and home, one and the same
table, in a word, they are one and the same flesh. So
it is written, " For this cause shall a man leave father
and mother and shall cleave to his wife, for they shall
be two in one flesh." And the Bride, on her side, is
commanded to " forget her people and her father's
house/' in order that the Bridegroom may " desire
her beauty." Since, therefore, love belongs especially
and chiefly to persons espoused, the name of Spouse
or Bride may justly be given to the soul that loves
God. Now, the soul that asks a kiss is the soul that
loves. She petitions not for liberty, not for a reward,
not for an inheritance, not even for knowledge, but
only for a kiss. And this request she makes after the
manner of a most chaste spouse, burning with a most
holy love, and altogether powerless to conceal the flame
which consumes her. See with what impatient abrupt-

ON THE LOVE OF THE SPOUSE 51

ness she begins her speech. Although she is about to
solicit a great privilege from a great Personage, she does
not, as others are wont to do in similar circumstances,
make use of the arts of blandishments ; she does not
approach her object by any winding ways or circum-
locutions. There is no preface, no attempt to conciliate
favour. From the abundance of her heart, without
shame or shyness, she breaks out with the eager request,
" Let Him kiss me With the kiss of His Mouth." Does
she not seem to you to say clearly, " What have I in
heaven and besides Thee, What do I desire upon earth ? "
Assuredly, she loves with a pure love, who seeks nothing
of Him Whom she loves, but only Himself. She loves
with a holy love, because her love springs not from the
passions of the flesh, but from the purity of the Spirit.
She loves With an ardent love who is so inebriated with
love as to lose sight of the Majesty of her Beloved.
What ! "He looketh upon the earth and maketh it
tremble," and she dares to ask that He should kiss
her ! Is she not manifestly intoxicated ? No doubt
of it. And perchance when she cried out thus im-
petuously she had just come forth from the " wine-
cellar," into which, namely, she afterwards boasts of
having been introduced. So David, speaking of certain
souls, said to God, " They shall be inebriated with the
plenty of Thy house, and Thou shall make them drink
of the torrent of Thy pleasure." Oh, how mighty is
the power of Jove ! How great confidence in liberty of
spirit ! What can be plainer than that perfect love
"casteth out fear" ?

Yet from modesty she addresses her request, not to
the Spouse Himself, but to others, as it were, in His ab-
sence. " Let Him kiss me," she exclaims, " with the kiss

52 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

of His Mouth." An extraordinary petition, to be sure,
and one needing the companionship of modesty to com-
mend the petitioner. Consequently she seeks through
domestics and familiars for admission to the sanctuary,
and access to the Object of her love. But who, my
brethren, are these domestics and familiars ? We be-
lieve that the holy angels stand near us when we pray
and offer to God our petitions and desires. But only
when they see us lifting up pure hands to heaven, with-
out any feelings of anger or dissension in our hearts.
This is evident from. the words of the Angel to Tobias :
"When thou didst pray with tears, and didst buiy
the dead, and didst leave thy dinner, and hide the
dead by day in thy house and bury them by night,
I offered thy prayer to the Lord." The same, as I think,
can be also sufficiently established by other passages
from Scripture. Thus, that the angels, by condescen-
sion, are even wont to associate themselves with us
when we are singing psalms to the Lord, is clearly
indicated by the Prophet, where he says, " Princes
went before joined with singers, in the midst of young
damsels playing on timbrels." Hence also his words,
" In the sight of the angels I will sing to Thee." It
is, therefore, a cause of grief to me that some of you
allow 3'ourselves to be oppressed with a heavy drowsi-
ness during the holy vigils, and so fail in reverence for
these citizens of heaven, appearing as dead men in the
presence of the princes. Whenever they are attracted
by your fervent alacrity, they take great pleasure in
assisting at our solemnities. But I fear, lest, disgusted
at your sloth, they may sometimes retire * in anger,

* Commenting on these words, Blessed Albert the Great tells
us not to understand them as signifying that men are some-

ON THE LOVE OF THE SPOUSE 53

and then, all too late, each of you should begin to
say to God with tears, " Thou hast put away my ac-
quaintance far from me : they have set me an abomi-
nation to themselves." Also, " Friend and neighbour
Thou hast put far from me, and my acquaintance,
because of my misery." Likewise, " My friends and
my neighbours have drawn near and stood against
me, and they that were near me stood afar off, and
they that sought my soul used violence." For if the
good angels withdraw from us, who will be able to
resist the assaults of the malignant ? I say, therefore,
to him who thus yields to sloth, "cursed be he that
doth the work of God negligently." And it is not
I but the Lord Who says, " I would thou wert cold
or hot, but because thou art lukewarm, and neither
cold nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of My
Mouth." Be attentive, then, my brethren, to these
angelic princes, when you are engaged in prayer or
psalmody ; comport yourselves with reverence and
modesty, and glory in the knowledge that your angels
daily "see the Face of your Father." Being "sent to
minister for them that shall receive the inheritance of
salvation," they ascend to God to offer Him our de-
votions, and return to us laden with His graces. Let
us profit by the ministrations of those celestial spirits
who honour us with their company, so that praise
may be " perfected out of the mouths of infants and
sucklings." Let us say to them, " Sing praises to our

times abandoned by their angel guardians, in punishment of
their infidelities. St. Bernard, he says, only means that sin
may render our angels less zealous or less efficacious in assist-
ing us. Similarly, Suarez, De Angelis, Bk. VI. chap. xvii. —
(Translator.)

54 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

God, sing ye," and let us hear them, in turn, answering,
" Sing praises to our King, sing ye."

Since, therefore, it is your privilege to sing the
praises of God in common with the heavenly choristers,
as being " fellow-citizens with the saints and domestics
of God," " sing ye wisely." As sweet food is pleasing
to the palate, so is a psalm to the heart. Only let the
devout and prudent soul be careful to grind it with
the teeth of her intelligence, if I may use the expression,
and not gulp it down whole and unmasticated, for
otherwise the spiritual palate cannot enjoy the taste,
pleasant and " sweet above honey and the honey-
comb." Let us offer Christ a honey-comb, like the
Apostles, at the celestial banquet and the table of the
Lord. Just as the honey is found in the comb, so
should devotion be felt in the words, f or " the letter
killeth " if swallowed down without this seasoning of
the Spirit. But if, like St. Paul, you "sing in the
spirit, and sing also with the understanding," you,
too, shall recognise the truth of what Jesus said, " The
words which I have spoken to you are spirit and life."
You shall likewise understand the saying of Wisdom,
" My Spirit is sweet above honey." So " shall your
soul be delighted in fatness," and " your whole burnt-
offering be made fat." So shall you appease the King,
and gain the favour of His princes, and secure to your-
selves the good will of all the heavenly court. The
blessed above, " smelling a sweet savour " in heaven,
shall say of you also, " Who is she that goeth up by
the desert as a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices,
of myrrh, and frankincense, and of all the powders
of the perfumer ? " As David sings, " The princes of
Juda are their leaders, the princes of Zabulon, the

ON THE LOVE OF THE SPOUSE 55

princes of Nephthali." That is to say, the angels act
as leaders for those who sing the praises of God, who
observe continence, and are given to divine contem-
plation. For well do these our princes know how
pleasing to their King are the laudation of our psal-
mody, the constancy of our temperance, and the purity
of our contemplation. Hence they are careful to de-
mand from us such first-fruits of the Spirit, which are
really nothing else than the first and fairest fruits of
wisdom. You are aware, of course, that Juda s;gnifies
in the Hebrew " one praising or confessing," Zabulon
"the dwelling of strength," and Nephthali "the stag
set free." The stag, indeed, by reason of his agility
and powers of leaping, is a figure which admirably
expresses the spiritual ecstasies of the contemplative.
Also, just as that animal is wont to penetrate the
shadows of the forest, so is the contemplative accus-
tomed to pierce through the obscurity of mystical
meanings.

We know, too, my brethren, Who it was that said,
"The sacrifice of praise shall honour Me." But as
" praise is not seemly in the mouth of a sinner," is
it not of absolute necessity that it should be accom-
panied by the virtue of continence, which will secure
that " sin shall not reign in your mortal body " ? Yet
that continence which seeks human glory, has no merit
in the eyes of God. Indispensably necessary, therefore,
is purity of intention, whereby the soul has the wish
to please Him alone and the power to unite herself
to Him closely. Now, to be united to God is simply
to see God, and this is granted only to the clean of
heart, as their special prerogative. A clean heart had
the Prophet David, who said to the Lord, "My soul

56 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

hath stuck close to Thee,' ' and, " But it is good for me to
cleave to God." By seeing he cleaved, and he saw by
cleaving. To the soul, then, that is Well exercised in
the virtues just mentioned, the messengers of heaven
manifest themselves familiarly and frequently, par-
ticularly if they observe her to be assiduous at prayer.
Who will grant me that my "petitions may be made
known to the household of God " through your media-
tion, O benevolent princes ! * Not merely to God, for
to Him even "the thought of man confesseth," but
to the household of God, so as to include also those
who dwell with Him, both blessed angels and beatified
souls of men. I am " needy " — who Will "raise " me
"up from the earth " ? lam" poor "—who will " lift "
me "up out of the dung-hill," that so "I may sit
with princes and hold the throne of glory " ? Yet
I doubt not they will gladly introduce into the palace
one whom they condescend to visit even on the " dung-
hill." And if they rejoice at our conversion, can they
despise us when we have been exalted in glory ?

In my opinion, therefore, it is these ministering
spirits to whom the Spouse, in her prayer, addresses
herself and opens her heart, as being the domestics
and friends of the Bridegroom, when she says, " Let
Him kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth." And notice
the familiar and friendly conversation of a soul still im-
prisoned in the flesh, with these celestial powers. She

* It may be worth while to mention here a vision once vouch-
safed to the Servant of God. During the office of Matins he
beheld an angel standing beside each religious and recording
the merit of his devotion. Some were writing in gold, some in
silver, others in ink, and others again in water. This distinc-
tion, he was given to understand, symbolised variety in degrees
of fervour. — (Translator.)

ON THE LOVE OF THE SPOUSE 57

is eager to be kissed ; she asks what she desires ; yet
she does not name Him Whom she loves. The reason
is that she feels sure they do not require to be told,
since He is the ordinary subject of conversation between
herself and them. Hence she does not say, " Let this or
that one kiss me," but only f,< Let Him kiss me." So,
Mary Magdalen did not mention by name Him Whom
she was seeking, but merely said to the Stranger Whom
she believed to be the gardener, " Sir, if thou hast
taken Him away." Taken whom ? She does not specify,
because she thought that what her own heart could
not for a moment forget, must be equally present to the
thoughts of every one. In the same manner the Spouse,
speaking to the companions of the Bridegroom, to
whom, as she was aware, her secret was known, sup-
pressed her Beloved's name, and broke out abruptly
with the request, " Let Him kiss me with the kiss of
His Mouth." About this kiss, my brethren, I will
say no more to-day. But in to-morrow's discourse you
shall hear whatever thereon, in answer to your prayer,
the grace of the Holy Spirit, Who teacheth all things,
shall further inspire me with. For it is not by flesh
and blood that this secret is revealed, but by the Holy
Ghost, " Who searcheth the deep things of God," Who
proceedeth from the Father and the Son, and liveth
and reigneth with Them for evermore. Amen.

SERMON VIII

On the Kiss of the Mouth interpreted of the

Holy Spirit.

" Let Him kiss me with the hiss of His Mouth."

To-day, my brethren, in fulfilment of the promise
made in my last sermon, I purpose to speak more
particularly of the supreme kiss, that is to say, of
the kiss of the Mouth.* And as this kiss is sweeter
than the other two, viz., those of the Feet and of the
Hand, more rarely enjoyed, and more difficult to
comprehend, the present discourse demands from you
a more than ordinary attention. To begin on a level
more lofty than usual, it appears to me that He Who
said, " No one knoweth the Son but the Father,
neither doth anyone know the Father but the Son,
and he to whom it shall please the Son to reveal Him,"

* Elsewhere the Saint writes : "I'm sure no person of
prudence will find fault with me for giving various interpre-
tations of the same text, provided I say nothing contrary to
tru.h. For charity, which every part of Holy Scripture is
intended to subserve, will be able to accomplish its work of
edification all the more efficaciously in proportion to the number
of apt expositions discoverable for each passage. Why should
we condemn in scriptural exegesis what we are constantly doing
in the use of other things ? How many are the purposes for
which water, v.g., is employed ! In the same way, from any
text of Scripture it is possible to extract a variety of true s gni-
fications, adapted to the necessity or use of different souls." —
(Translator.)

58

ON THE KISS OF THE MOUTH 59

by these Words designated a kind of kiss which is
altogether ineffable and incommunicable to any creature.
" For the Father loveth the Son " and embraces Him
with an infinite affection, as the Supreme His Co-equal,
the Eternal His Co-Eternal, the One His Only-Begotten.
But not less for Him is the love of the Son, Who even
died for the love of the Father, as He Himself testifies
when He says, " That all may know that I love the
Father, arise, let us go." He spoke evidently of going
to His Passion. Now, what is that mutual love and
knowledge between Father and Son but a most sweet
and incomprehensible kiss ?

I, at any rate, hold it as certain that no creature, not
excepting even the angels, is admitted to a compre-
hension of this secret of love, so great and so holy.
St. Paul was of the same mind when he affirmed that
this " peace surpasseth all understanding," the angelic
understanding included. Hence not even the Spouse,
although otherwise daring enough, would yet venture
to say, "let Him kiss me with His Mouth" for she
reserved that to the Father. But she asks for some-
thing less in the request, " Let Him kiss me with the
kiss of His Mouth." Do you wish to behold this new
Spouse receiving the new kiss, not from the Mouth,
but from " the Kiss of His mouth " ? "He breathed
on them," says the Evangelist, namely, Jesus on the
apostles, that is, on the primitive Church, " and said,
Receive ye the Holy Ghost." Assuredly that Was a kiss.
What ? The corporeal exhalation ? No, my brethren,
but the invisible Spirit. And the reason Why He was
communicated by the Lord's breathing was this, in order
that we should understand that He proceeds from the
Son in like manner as from the Father, being truly

60 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

a Divine Kiss, common to the Mouth That kisses and
the Mouth That is kissed. Consequently, it is enough
for the Spouse to be kissed " with the Kiss " of the
Bridegroom, without being kissed with His Mouth. For
it is no small thing, nor a matter deserving of but slight
esteem, to be kissed with that Kiss, namely, to receive
an infusion of the Holy Spirit. This should not seem
fanciful ; because if I am right in regarding the Father
as the Mouth That kisses, and the Son as the Mouth
That is kissed, I cannot be very far wrong in under-
standing by the Kiss Itself the Divine Spirit, Who
is the imperturbable Peace of the Father and Son, the
everlasting Bond, the undivided Love, the indivisible
Unity.

It is, therefore, with regard to Him that the Spouse
is so venturesome, and she confidently asks, using the
image of a kiss, that He would deign to infuse Himself
into her heart. If she is so daring, it is because she
has heard something which appears to encourage her
presumption. For has she not heard the Son saying,
"No one knoweth the Son but the Father, neither
doth any one know the Father but the Son," and
adding, "and he to whom it shall please the Son to
reveal Him " ? But she has no doubt that the Bride-
groom Would be pleased to make this revelation to His
Bride before all others. Hence she boldly asks a kiss,
that is, the Holy Spirit, in Whom are revealed both the
Father and the Son. One, indeed, cannot be known
Without the Other. Hence the Lord said, "He who
seeth Me seeth My Father also." And St. John,
" Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the
Father ; he that confesseth the Son, hath also the
Father." From this it is evident that neither the

ON THE KISS OF THE MOUTH 61

Father can be known without the Son, nor the Son
without the Father. Rightly, then, is supreme felicity
made to consist, not in the knowledge of One or Other,
but of Both, by Him Who says, "This is eternal life,
that they may know Thee, the only true God, and
Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent." Finally, those
who follow the Lamb are said to have His name and
the name of the Father written on their foreheads,
which means that they rejoice in the knowledge of
Both.

But some one may here object and say, " Therefore
the knowledge of the Holy Ghost is not essential to
our happiness, because when Christ declared that
eternal life consisted in knowing the Father and the
Son, He said nothing of the Third Person." Nothing
explicitly, I grant you. But when the Father and the
Son are perfectly known, known also must assuredly
be the Holy Spirit, Who is the common Goodness of
the Two. Even one human being cannot be fully known
to another so long as it is uncertain whether his dis-
position is good or evil. Yet even when the Saviour
said, "This is eternal life that they may know Thee,
the only true God, and Jesus Christ, Whom Thou hast
sent," if this mission demonstrates the good- will both
of the Father, Who so lovingly sent His Son, and of
the Son, Who so freely obeyed His Father, even then,
I say, He was not silent respecting the Spirit, for He
made mention of that infinite Loving-kindness common
to Both. And is not the Holy Ghost the Love and
the Kindness of Father and Son ?

Consequently, the Spouse, in requesting a kiss, prays
for the grace of this threefold knowledge, so much,
at least, as is possible for her to receive whilst still

62 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

in the flesh. And she asks this of the Son to Whom
it belongs to reveal the Father " to whomsoever it
shall please Him." The Son, therefore, reveals both
Himself and His Father to such as He pleases. But
the revelation is made by a Kiss, that is, by the Holy
Spirit, as the Apostle witnesses, when he says, " But
to us God hath revealed Them by His Spirit." Now
in giving the Spirit by Whom He reveals the Father
and Son, He also reveals the Spirit Himself. He re-
veals by giving, and by revealing He gives.* Be-
sides, the revelation which is made by the Holy
Spirit not only communicates the light of knowledge,
but also enkindles the flames of love. Hence the
words of St. Paul, " The charity of God is shed abroad
in our hearts by the Holy Ghost Who is given to us."
And perhaps this is the reason why, with regard
to those, who " knowing God, did not glorify Him
as God," we do not read that they got their knowledge
by revelation of the Holy Ghost. Because, namely,
their knowledge Was not accompanied by love. The
Apostle simply says, "for God had manifested it unto
them," and does not add " by His Spirit." Otherwise,
the kiss, which is the privilege of the Spouse, Would
be usurped by impious souls, who, content with the
knowledge that " puffeth up," are unconcerned for
the charity that " edifieth." But St. Paul himself
shall tell us whence they derived their knowledge of
God. They " perceived " Him, he says, " by the things
that are made, being understood." Hence it is manifest
that they could not have known Him perfectly Whom
they loved not at all. For had they possessed such

* " Dando revelat et dat revelando." St. Bernard is very
fond of such inverted expressions. — (Translator.)

OX THE KISS OF THE MOUTH 63

perfect knowledge, they surely would not have been
ignorant of that infinite goodness wherewith He willed
to be born in the flesh and to die for their redemption.
Hear now what attributes of God were revealed to
them: "His eternal power also and Divinity." You
see how, in the presumption of a spirit not divine but
human, they investigated His attributes of sublimity
and majesty, but failed to understand that He was
"meek and humble of Heart."' This should not sur-
prise us, since Behemoth, their chief, " sees everything
high," as is Written of him, but nothing that is lowly.
David, on the contrary, would not " Walk in great
matters nor in wonderful things above " him, lest, as
a " searcher into majesty,"* he should " be overwhelmed
by glory."

Do you, also, my brethren, if you Would pick your
steps cautiously amidst such nrysteries of truth, ever
bear in mind the counsel of the Wise Man, " Seek
not the things that are too high for thee, and search
not into things above thy ability." In matters of this
nature, walk in the Spirit, not by the light of your
own intelligence. The doctrine of the Holy Spirit does
not excite curiosity, but rather enkindles charity.
Justly, therefore, does the Spouse, in seeking Him
" Whom her soul loveth," refuse to put her trust in
the senses of the flesh, or to be satisfied with the vain
reasonings of human curiosity. But she solicits a kiss,
that is, she invokes the Holy Spirit from Whom she
shr.ll obtain both the food of knowledge and the season-
ing of grace. That is true knowledge which is imparted
by means of a kiss, and is accepted with love, because
a kiss is the token of love, Consequently, the " knowl-
edge " which "puffeth up," which is unaccompanied

64 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

by charity, does not proceed from a kiss. But neither
can this kiss of love be claimed by those who indeed
"have zeal for God, but not according to knowledge."
For the grace of the kiss communicates at once both
the light of knowledge and the warmth of love. It
is in truth " the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,"
Who, like the bee bearing wax and honey, has where-
with to light the lamp of knowledge and to infuse the
sweetness of devotion. Wherefore, let not him who
has understanding of truth without love, nor him
who has love without understanding, ever imagine he
has received this kiss. With it error and coldness are
alike incompatible. So, for the reception of the twofold
grace of this all-holy kiss, let the Spouse on her part
get ready her two lips, namely, her intelligence for
"understanding," and her will for "wisdom." Thus,
glorying in a perfect kiss, she will deserve to hear these
words of consolation, " Grace is poured abroad on
thy Hps, therefore hath God blessed thee for ever."
Accordingly, the Father, when kissing His Son,
" uttereth " most fully to Him the secrets of His
Divinity. This Holy Scripture indicates to us by the
words, " Day to Day uttereth speech." But this eternal
and divinely- sweet embrace it is given to no creature
whatsoever to behold, as I have already remarked,
the Holy Spirit, common to Father and Son, being the
sole witness and confidant of Their mutual knowledge
and love. " For who hath known the mind of the Lord,
or who hath Him his counsellor ? "

But perchance some one will say to me : " How then
hast thou come to know what thou confessest has been
revealed to no creature ? " I have an obvious answer.
" The Only- Begotten, Who is in the Bosom of the

ON THE KISS OF THE MOUTH 65

Father, He hath declared Him," not indeed to me, miser-
able and unworthy as I am, but to the holy Baptist,
the "friend of the Bridegroom," whose words these
are. And not only to him, but also to St. John the
Evangelist, as being " the disciple whom Jesus loved."
For his soul, too, was pleasing to God, truly worthy
both of the name and of the dowry of a spouse, worthy
of the embrace of the Bridegroom, even worthy of
the privilege of reclining on the Bosom of the Lord.
St. John derived from the Heart of the Only-Begotten,
what He derived from His Father's, but not the
Evangelist alone. The same is true of all to whom
" the Angel of the Great Counsel " addressed the words,
" I have called you friends, because all things What-
soever I have heard of my Father I have made known
to you." From the same Heart was derived the
knowledge of St. Paul who received his Gospel " not
from man, nor through man, but by revelation from
Jesus Christ." Most certainly, all these could say with
as much joy as veracity, "The Only-Begotten, Who
is in the Bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him."
And what, my brethren, was this "declaration" but
a kiss bestowed on them ? Yet it was the kiss of the
Kiss, not the Kiss of the Mouth. Listen : " I and the
Father are One " — there you have the Kiss of the
Mouth. Also here, " I am in the Father and the Father
in Me." This is the Kiss from Mouth to Mouth. But
let no creature presume to claim It. It is a Kiss of
love and of peace. But that love " surpasseth all
knowledge," as that peace " surpasseth all under-
standing." Nevertheless, what " eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart

of man," that God revealed to St. Paul by His Spirit,
1. E

66 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

that is, by "the Kiss of His Mouth." Therefore, the
mutual Indwelling of the Son in the Father and of
the Father in the Son is the Kiss of the Mouth. The
kiss of the Kiss is that of which We read, " For we
have not received the spirit of this world, but the
Spirit That is of God that we may know the things
that are given us from God."

In order to make the distinction clearer, I say that
He, Who receives the plenitude, receives the Kiss of
the Mouth ; and he, who receives of the plenitude,
receives the kiss of the Kiss. A great saint indeed
is Paul. Yet however high he can raise his mouth,
although he can reach up to the third heaven, he can
never attain to the Lips of the Most High. Let him
be content with his own measure, and as he cannot
mount to that " Face of glory," let him humbly pray
that It would stoop to his level and send down a kiss
from above. But He, Who "thought it not robbery
to be equal With God," so that He could say, " I and
the Father are One," as He is associated with the
Father as an Equal, embraces Him also as an Equal,
and, instead of soliciting a kiss from a lower level,
at an equal elevation presses Mouth to Mouth, thus,
by a singular prerogative, receiving the Kiss of the
Mouth. Christ's Kiss, consequently, is the plenitude,
Paul's but a participation. The Master can boast of
having obtained the Kiss of the Mouth ; the disciple
the kiss of the Kiss.

Yet happy is that kiss of participation whereby we
not only know God, but also love the Father, Who,
without doubt, is not fully known until He is perfectly
loved. My brethren, is there amongst you one who
sometimes, in the depths of his heart, hears the Spirit

ON THE KISS OF THE MOUTH 67

of the Son " crying Abba, Father " ? If such there be,
let him feel assured of the love of the Father, for
he has the testimony of his own conscience that he
is led by the same Spirit as the Son. O soul who art
such, whosoever thou be, have courage, have con-
fidence, and fear nothing. In the Spirit of Christ thou
canst recognise thyself as the daughter of the Father
and as the spouse and sister of the Son. Spouse and
sister, both these titles may be found applied in Sacred
Scripture to the soul that is such. This I can show
without much labour. Thus, the Bridegroom says to
His Bride, " I am come into My garden, O My Sister,
My Spouse." She is a Sister as having the same Father,
a Spouse as having the same Spirit. If carnal matri-
mony unites two in one flesh, why should not spiritual
nuptials have greater efficacy to conjoin two in one
Spirit ? Moreover,we have the testimony of St. Paul
that " He that cleaveth to God is one Spirit." But
hear also from the Father how lovingly and how con-
descendingly He calls the faithful soul His daughter,
and yet invites her as the bride of His Son to the
embraces of that Son : "Hear, O daughter ! and see,
and incline thine ear, and forget thy people and thy
father's house, and the King shall desire thy beauty."
Behold from Whom this spouse demands a kiss. O
happy soul ! take care and be reverent, because He
is the Lord Thy God, perhaps not so much to be
kissed as to be adored with the Father and the Holy
Ghost for ever and ever. Amen.

SERMON IX

On the Breasts of the Bridegroom and of the

Spouse.

" Let Him hiss me with the kiss of His Mouth, tor Thy Breasts
are better than wine."

Let us now, my brethren, return to our text and
explain the Words of the Spouse and What follows.
These words, spoken abruptly without the least intro-
duction, hang unsteadily so to speak, and loosely swing
in air, for want of a beginning or context. It is, there-
fore, necessary that something be premised to which
they may intelligibly cohere. Let us accordingly sup-
pose that those, whom I have called the friends of the
Bridegroom, as yesterday and the day before, so also
to-day have come on a visit to salute the Spouse. Find-
ing her discontented, and complaining, and out of
humour, they wonder what the cause can be, and ad-
dress her in this manner : " What has happened ? How
is it we see thee more sad than usual ? Wherefore these
unexpected complaints and murmurs ? Certainly, after
returning at length to thy lawful Husband, and only
When compelled to do so by the ill-treatment of the
other lovers after whom thou hadst gone so disloyally
and unfaithfully, certainly, thou didst importune Him
with prayers and tears to allow thee even to kiss His
Feet. Is it not so ? " " Yes," she answers. " What
then ? Having obtained thy request, and the pardon
of thy infidelities at the same time in the kiss of His

Foot, didst thou not again grow discontented ? Not

68

ON THE BREASTS OF THE SPOUSE 69

satisfied with so much condescension, but desiring
greater familiarity, with the same insistence as before
thou didst now implore and obtain the second grace,
and with the kiss of the Hand Wast adorned With virtues
neither few in number nor little in importance. Thou
dost admit all this ? " "I do," she replies. "Art not thou
the one who used to protest and promise that, if ever
she was admitted to the kiss of the Hand, this would
be enough for her, and thereafter she would ask for
nothing more ? " " The same," she confesses. " What
then ? Perhaps thou wilt complain that some of the
graces already bestowed have been taken back ? "
"No, indeed." "Or, it may be that thou art afraid
thou shalt be called upon to answer for the sins of thy
past life, which, it was thy hope, had been forgiven ? "
" Not even that." " Well then, tell us what is wrong and
how we can help thee." " I cannot rest," she exclaims,
"until He kisses me with the kiss of His Mouth. I
am thankful for being allowed to kiss His Feet. I am
grateful for the privilege of kissing His Hand. But if
He has any care for me, ' let Him kiss me with the
kiss of His Mouth.' I am not, I repeat, ungrateful,
but — I love. What I have already obtained is, I ac-
knowledge, too much for my desert, yet altogether too
little for my desire. I am governed more by desire
than by reason. Do not, I beg of you, blame my pre-
sumption, since affection urges me on. Modesty re-
monstrates, but love is supreme. I am not ignorant
that 'the honour of the King loveth judgment.' But
headlong love will not wait for judgment, will not
suffer the restraints of counsel, will not be held in
check by modesty, will not follow the guidance of
r "n. I beg, I entreat, I implore, 'let Him kiss me

70 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

with the kiss of His Mouth.' Lo ! these many years,
for His sake, I have been careful to lead a chaste and
sober life ; I have applied myself with diligence to
spiritual reading ; I have resisted my evil passions ; I
have watched against temptation ; I have been con-
stant in prayer ; I have ' recounted my years in the
bitterness of my soul ! ' As far as was possible to me,
I have, I think, lived without reproach amongst my
brethren. I have been obedient to my superiors, going
out and coming in according to the command of autho-
rity. So far from coveting my neighbour's goods, I
have rather given him my own and myself with them.
In the sweat of my brow have I eaten my bread. Yet
in all these painful exercises I have felt nothing save
the monotonous drudgery of routine, unseasoned with
sweetness. What am I but, according to the Prophet,
as ' the heifer of Ephraim taught to love to tread out
the corn ' ? In the Gospel, he is reputed a useless
servant who only does what he is obliged to do. I
am, perhaps, in some way faithfully observing the
commandments, yet, even in that observance ' my soul
is as earth without water.' In order, therefore, that
my whole burnt- offering may be made fat,' ' let Him,
I implore, ' kiss me with the kiss of His Mouth.' "

Many of you, as I remember, in the manifestations
of conscience which you make to me privately, are
wont to complain of this aridity and languor of soul,
this heaviness and dulness of mind, whereby you are
rendered incapable of penetrating the profound and
hidden things of God, and can experience little or
none of the sweetness of the Spirit. What is that, my
brethren, but a longing to be kissed ? Plainly, such
persons are sighing and yearning after the Spr:4ft3*

ON THE BREASTS OF THE SPOUSE 71

wisdom and understanding. They want understand-
ing to direct them to the goal. They want wisdom
to relish what understanding * reveals. It was, I
think, with such sentiments the Prophet prayed when
he said, " Let my soul be filled as with marrow
and fatness, and my mouth shall praise Thee with
joyful lips*" That is to say, he w'anted a kiss,
and such a kiss as would by the contact, suffuse his
lips With the oil of special grace, and thus bring
about the fulfilment of the Wish he gives expression to
elsewhere : " Let my mouth be filled With praise, that
I may sing Thy glory, Thy greatness all the day long."
Then, after tasting, he cries out, " How great is the
multitude of Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou
hast hidden for them that fear Thee ! " But, perhaps,
I have delayed long enough over this kiss, although,
candidly, I doubt as to whether I have as yet spoken
anything worthy of the subject. However, since, after
all, it is better learned when impressed in act than
when expressed in words, we may now pass on.

The text continues : " For Thy breasts are better
than wine, smelling sweet of the best ointments."

* This distinction between understanding and wisdom, so
familiar with mystical writers, has its foundation in etymology,
as St. Bernard elsewhere points out, sapientia (wisdom) being
derived from the verb sapere (to relish). To the mystic, accord-
ingly, wisdom is the savour or seasoning of science — knowledge
with love. It includes the light of knowledge or understanding
to which it adds the heat of devotion. This heat even strengthens
the light it accompanies, and hence we shall find St. Bernard,
later on, substituting for St. Anselm's Credo ut intelligam (I
believe that I may understand) the mystical formula Amo ut
intelligam (I love that I may understand). Thus, to the mind
of our Saint, mere understanding or knowledge stands to wisdom
in pretty much the same relation as the cold starlight to the
warm sunshine. — (Translator.)

72 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Whose words these are, we are not informed. Hence
it is left for the commentator to determine the person
to whom they most properly belong. As for me, I
think I can see reasons for assigning them either to
the Spouse, or to the Bridegroom, or to the friends of
the Bridegroom. And, in the first place, I will point
out how fitly they may be regarded as coming from the
Spouse. Whilst she is conversing With the familiars of
her Beloved, lo ! He of Whom they speak approaches.
For He willingly draws nigh to those Who are talking
about Him. Such has ever been His custom. Thus,
to the disciples journeying to Emmaus and conversing
about Jesus, He joined Himself as a pleasant and
sociable companion. This is what He promises in the
Gospel : " Where two or three are gathered together
in My name, there am I in the midst of them " ; and
also by His Prophet : " Before they shall call, I will
hear, and whilst yet they are speaking I Will hear."
So now He comes uninvited to the Spouse and her
companions, and, delighted With their Words, antici-
pates their prayers. T believe, indeed, that sometimes
He does not even Wait for words, but is drawn to us
by our very thoughts. Hence, he who was found " a
man according to the heart " of God, tells us that
" The Lord hath heard the desire of the poor, Thine
Ear hath heard the preparation of their heart." Do
you, therefore, my brethren, Watch over yourselves in
every place, as knowing yourselves to be ever under
the Eye of that God W'ho " searcheth the hearts and
the reins," " Who hath made the hearts of everyone
of " you, Who " understandeth all your works." The
Spouse, accordingly, observing the presence of her
Beloved, breaks off abruptly in her speech. She feels

ON THE BREASTS OF THE SPOUSE 73

ashamed of her presumption in which, as she perceives,
she has been discovered by Him. It had seemed to her
that the way to compass her design least at variance with
the rules of modesty, would be to engage the services
of the friends of the Bridegroom and use them
as intermediaries. She presently turns to the Bride-
groom Himself, and she tries to excuse her presumption
as well as she can, saying, " For Thy breasts are better
than wine, smelling sweet of the best ointments." As
if she should say, " If I appear to Thee ambitious, the
fault lies with Thyself, O my Bridegroom, Who suckled
me so condescendingly on the sweetness of Thy
Breasts. Thus, all fear being banished rather by Thy
love rather than by my temerity, I have been more
daring, perhaps, than is expedient. So my imprudence
results from mindfulness of Thy love to me and for-
getfulness of Thy Majesty." Let these remarks be
understood as merely supplying a context for the
Words of the Canticle. We have now to see what means
this strange commendation of the Bridegroom's Breasts.
These two Breasts of the Beloved are simply the two
proofs He offers us of the benignity of His Nature, in
patiently waiting for the sinner's return to Him, and
affectionately receiving the penitent. A twofold sweet-
ness of most delicious savour, I say, exudes from the
Breast of the Lord Jesus, namely, long-suffering in
expectation and readiness in forgiving. Lest you should
consider this but a fancy of my own, I Will give you
scriptural testimony of it. Concerning long-suffering
We read, " Or despisest thou the riches of His goodness
and patience and long-suffering ? " Again, " Knowest
thou not that the benignity of God leadeth thee to
penance." Hence, if He delays long before pronounc-

74 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

ing the sentence of punishment against the sinner, the
reason is, because He desires rather to bestow the grace
of pardon upon the penitent. " For He willeth not the
death of the sinner, but that he be converted and live."
Let me now give you testimonies regarding the second
Breast which I have interpreted to mean facility in
pardoning. Concerning it we read, " In whatever hour
the sinner shall repent, his sin shall be forgiven him."
Also, " Let the wicked forsake his Way, and the unjust
man his thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and
He will have mercy on him, and to our God, for He is
bountiful to forgive." David beautifully comprehends
in a few words both these Divine Breasts, Where he
says that the Lord is " long-suffering and plenteous in
mercy." The Spouse, therefore, acknowledges that, by
the experience of this twofold mercy, her confidence
has increased to such an extent as to embolden her to
ask for a kiss. " What wonder, O my Beloved ! " we may
fancy her saying, " if I make so bold with Thee after
being allowed to draw from Thy Breasts such an abund-
ance of sweetness ? So it is no reliance on my own
merits, but the sweetness of Thy Breasts that makes me
so daring." Hence, the meaning of the expression,
" Thy Breasts are better than wine," may be understood
to be this : " The oil of divine grace that flows from
Thy Breasts is more useful to me for my spiritual
progress than are the reproofs, Wine-like in their pun-
gency, of my human superiors. And not alone are
' Thy Breasts better than wine,' but they also ' smell
sweet of the best ointments.' That is to say, not only
dost Thou nourish those who are present with the
milk of spiritual sweetness, but Thou dost also shed
around them that are absent the sweet odour of a

ON THE BREASTS OF. THE SPOUSE 75

worthy esteem of Thyself, thus 'having good testi-
mony both from those who are without and from those
who are within.' Thou hast, I say, milk within and
ointments without, because unless Thou didst first
attract us by the odour of Thy ointments, there would
be none to refresh with the sweetness of Thy milk."
As to these ointments, and whether they suggest aught
that is deserving of consideration, we shall see after-
wards when we come to the verse, " We will run after
Thee to the odour of Thy ointments." Now, according
to my promise, let us examine if the same words,
which I have just explained as spoken by the Spouse,
may not also be ascribed to the Bridegroom.

As she is speaking of her Beloved, suddenly, as I
have said, He Himself appears. He complies with her
request, and bestows the kiss, thus fulfilling in her
regard the word which is written, " Thou hast given "
her her " heart's desire, and hast not withh olden from "
her " the will of her lips." The filling of her breasts
bears witness to this. So great, my brethren, is the
efficacy of this holy kiss, that, directly it is received,
it causes the breasts to swell out with an abundance
of spiritual milk. Those amongst you who are most
given to prayer understand what I am saying from
their own experience. How often do we not draw near
to the altar with dry and tepid hearts ! But whilst
we persevere in prayer, suddenly there is an infusion
of grace, our hearts swell, our whole interior is deluged
with an inundation of piety, and, were there but some-
one to press, the milk of sweetness engendered would
be neither slow nor scanty in coming. Thus, then, the
Bridegroom may say to the espoused soul, " Now, My
Spouse, thou hast received what thou didst ask for, and

76 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the proof of it is this, that thy breasts are become
better than wine. From the fulness of thy breasts
thou mayst infer that the kiss solicited has been be-
stowed upon thee. Behold, they are now distended and,
in the abundance of milk, made better than the wine
of worldly knowledge, which inebriates indeed, but
with curiosity, not with charity, filling rather than
nourishing, inflating rather than edifying, producing
satiety rather than strength."

Let us next consider the same words as if spoken by
the friends of the Bridegroom. " Unreasonably," they
protest, " dost thou, O Spouse, complain of thy Be-
loved, because what He has already granted thee is
of more value than that which thou now requirest.
The object of thy present desire will no doubt give
thee pleasure. Yet the breasts, from which thou
feedest the children of thy womb, are better, that is,
are more necessary, than the wine of contemplation
for which thou prayest. The latter is the wine that
■ rejoiceth the heart of (the individual) man,' but the
former is the charity that edifies the multitude. If
Rachel, that is, the exercises of the contemplative life,
be the more fair, Lia, to wit, the active ministry, is
the more fruitful. Do not, then, devote too much
time to the kisses of contemplation, for better are the
breasts of preaching."*

* The Saint is here manifestly comparing the active life with
the contemplative merely from the point of view of our neigh-
bour's necessity. But in many places elsewhere he considers
the two states according to their intrinsic dignity and per-
fection, and gives a decided preference to the life of contem-
plation, as being the closest approximation to the life of heaven.
Thus, in his treatise De Modo Vivendi, he says : " The active
life is good indeed, but far better is the contemplative." And
in his third sermon on the Assumption, he calls the contem-

ON THE BREASTS OF THE SPOUSE 77

There is, besides, another possible interpretation,
which indeed I had not intended to propose to you,
but Which, as it seems to me now, ought not to be
passed over. For why should we not suppose that
these words of the Canticle belong most properly to the
" little ones," of whom the Spouse, as mother or nurse,
has solicitous charge ? Such " little ones," that is to say,
immature and tender souls, cannot endure with patience
that she should give herself to repose, by whose doc-
trine and example they desire to be more fully in-
structed and edified. And in a subsequent verse we read
of their being severely checked in their troublesome
restiveness and forbidden to awaken the Spouse until
she herself wishes. These children, therefore, when they
notice her eager for kisses, seeking seclusion, avoiding

plative life the " better part " (optimam partem). It is worth
noting that the reason he assigns for his preference, viz., that,
whereas the service of our neighbour is destined to end with
time, divine contemplation, just as charity, shall continue for
eternity, avails equally to prove the superiority of the purely
contemplative life over the mixed. Yet recognising that un-
interrupted attention to God is impossible to us in our present
condition, so that even the " eagles " must sometimes descend
from the skies, he holds that our highest estate is the mixed,
which he compares to Jacob's Ladder whereon we ascend to
God by contemplation and descend to the exercises of the active
life. For, after all, he says, Mary and Martha, that is, the contem-
plative and the active life, are sisters, and like good sisters should
dwell together. But to ^-how us that the soul's attraction should
be more and more towards contemplation, he adds the remark
that it is well with the household where Martha is ever com-
plaining of Mary, but things are not as they ought to be, when
Mary has reason to complain of Martha, that is to say, when one
allows his exterior occupations to encroach upon his spiritual
exercises. From what has been said of the mixed and con-
templative lives and their relative perfections, it will be seen
that, however widely St. Bernard and St. Thomas may differ
with regard to the speculative question of superiority, practically
they are in accord — (Translator.)

78 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

publicity, keeping aloof from the multitude, and pre-
ferring her own ease to the care of themselves, raise
their voices in protest against such conduct. " Act
not so," they cry, " act not so. Better is the milk
of thy breasts than the wine of such kisses. By means
of that milk thou canst deliver us from * the carnal
desires that war against the soul/ thou canst rescue us
from the world and win us to God." Or perhaps, when
they say, " Because thy breasts are better than wine,"
they intend to signify this : " Those spiritual delights
distilled to us from thy breasts are far superior to the
earthly pleasures wherewith, as With wine, We were
formerly intoxicated and held captive."

This comparison of bodily pleasures with wine is
very apt. Just as the grape, when drained by pressure
has no longer any juice to yield, so the* body in the
wine-press of death is sterilised completely as a source
of delight, and can never again wax wanton under the
impulse of passion. Hence, the Prophet declares,
" All flesh is grass, and all the glory thereof as the
flower of the field. The grass is withered and the
flower is fallen. " And the Apostle, " He that soweth
in the flesh, of the flesh also shall reap corruption."
Also, " Meat for the stomach and the stomach
for the meat, but God shall destroy both it
and them." But consider, if perhaps this comparison
may be extended not only to the flesh, but to the
world as well. It also " passeth away, and the con-
cupiscence thereof," and all things therein shall come
to an end of which there is no end. But not so the
spiritual breasts. These, when exhausted, shall be
again replenished, from the fountain in the maternal
heart, with the milk that can satisfy the sucklings'

ON THE BREASTS OF THE SPOUSE 79

thirst. Better, therefore, than the love of the flesh
and the world are those breasts of the Spouse rightly
said to be, which no number of little ones can ever
drain, but which are always refilled to overflowing from
the heart of charity. For rivers flow forth ceaselessly
from that heart, and there is made within it a " fountain
of living water springing up into eternal life." The
crowning commendation of the Spouses' breasts is that
which is said of the fragrance of their ointments. By
this we are given to understand that they not only
feed us with the sweetness of sound doctrine, but also
exhale the pleasant odour of a good name. As to what
these breasts are, what the milk that fills them, and
what the ointments whereof they are redolent, all these
questions I purpose to discuss more in detail in another
sermon, with the help of Christ, Who, with the Father
and the Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth one God, for
ever and ever. Amen.

SERMON X
On the Spiritual Ointments.

" Smelling sweet oj the best ointments."

My brethren, I cannot pretend to such profundity
of understanding or to such perspicacity of genius as
would enable me to discover anything new for myself.
But in the mouth of St. Paul, which is always open
to us, I find a full and ever-flowing fountain. As very
often on other occasions, so now also in explaining the
breasts of the Spouse, I shall draw on its resources.
" Rejoice with those who rejoice," says the great
Apostle, " weep with those who weep." In these few
words he expresses all the affections of a mother's
heart . For little children know not how to be ill or well
without their sickness or health being, through sym-
pathy, shared in by her who brought them into the
world. She cannot help being conformed in all things
to her own flesh and blood. Wherefore, agreeably to
the mind of St. Paul, I will take the two breasts
of the Spouse to signify these two maternal affections,
naming one Compassion and the other Congratulation
or Sympathy with joy. For if the Spouse does not as
yet possess such feelings, does not as yet exhibit these
breasts, is not- as yet conscious of a readiness to
" rejoice with those that rejoice " and to " weep with
those that weep," she is still but " a little one " and im-
mature. Should a soul so defective be appointed to
the government of others, or to the office of preaching,

she will do no good to her neighbour, but infinite evil

8q

ON THE SPIRITUAL OINTMENTS 81

to herself. But how recklessly bold and lost to shame
should one of this kind be to thrust herself uncalled
into such functions !

But let us return to the breasts of the Spouse, and
to each let us assign its own peculiar kind of milk.
I say, then, that Congratulation yields the milk of
encouragement, Compassion that of consolation. Both
species the spiritual mother feels flowing abundantly
into her loving heart from the heavenly source
whenever she obtains the kiss of divine contemplation.
You may see her immediately afterwards with full
breasts giving suck to her children, distilling from
the one breast a wealth of consolation, and from
the other a plenteous stream of salutary exhortation,
according as the various needs of the little ones may
appear to demand. For example, should she notice
that one of those whom she has begotten in Christ,
is agitated by some violent temptation, and reduced
thereby to such a state of perturbation, sadness, and
pusillanimity as to be no longer capable of withstand-
ing the enemy's onslaught, how she sympathises with
him ! how she soothes him ! how she weeps over him !
how she consoles him ! how many arguments of piety
does she not presently discover with which to lift him
up out of his depression ! But if, on the contrary, she
observes him to be full of zeal and alacrity, and
making good progress towards perfection, oh, then she
is jubilant ! she approaches him with salutary admoni-
tions ; she fans his zeal to brighter flame ; she provides
him as well as she can with the means of persever-
ance ; she exhorts him to be ever striving towards higher
sanctity. In this way does she accommodate herself
to all. She transfers to herself the dispositions of all.

2 V

82 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

And she shows herself to be the mother ot the Weak
no less than of the fervent.

How many do we behold to-day actuated by feelings
and dispositions very far from motherly ! — I speak of
those who have undertaken the government of souls.
Rather it must be confessed, although with groans of
misery, that they melt down in the furnace of their
avarice, and fashion into things of traffic, and barter
away for filthy lucre the reproaches of Christ, the
spittings, the scourges, the nails, the lance, His cross,
and His death, — all. And the price of this all, the
world's ransom, they hasten to place in their purses !
The only difference between prelates* of this character
and the Iscariot is that, whereas he equated the
value of all this merchandise with thirty (silver) pieces,
they, on the contrary, influenced by a more griping
greed of gain, endeavour to drive a better bargain by
demanding an immeasurably higher price. After these
profits they hunger with an insatiable appetite. When
possessed, they are in fear lest they lose them, and they
grieve for them when lost. In the love of them they
rest, in so far, at least, as their anxiety to preserve
and increase them is consistent with any rest. But
for the loss or the salvation of souls, they have no con-
cern. Most certainly, these are not true mothers, who,
though they are " grown fat and thick and gross " out

* The Saint is speaking of simoniac prelates, at that time
very numerous in the Church, who knocked down ecclesiastical
offices and privileges to the highest bidder, thus making mer-
chandise of the fruits of Christ's Passion. The comparison with
Judas recalls a similar made somewhere by Ruskin. " There
are many Iscariots nowadays," says the great art critic, " but,
alas ! very few of them get the grace of hanging themselves." —
(Translator.)

ON THE SPIRITUAL OINTMENTS 83

of the patrimony of the Crucified, yet feel no com-
passion for " the affliction of Joseph." The real
mother makes herself known by her conduct. She has
breasts and she keeps them full. She knows well how
to " rejoice with those that rejoice and to weep with
those that weep." Nor does she cease to extract the
milk of exhortation from the breast of Congratula-
tion, or the milk of consolation from the breast of
Compassion. Concerning this milk and these breasts
of the Spouse, I have now said enough.

I shall next endeavour to explain what these ointments
are of which the breasts smell so sweetly, but only on
condition that you, my brethren, by your prayers, shall
obtain for me the double grace of conceiving worthy senti-
ments and of clothing them in suitable language, for the
benefit of my hearers, that is, of yourselves. Of these
ointments, some belong to the Bridegroom, others to
the Bride, just as there are breasts also proper to each.
I indicated, in the preceding discourse, the place where
an exposition of the Bridegroom's ointments will be
most properly given. Let us here consider those of
the Bride, and that the more attentively on account of
the high eulogium which Holy Scripture passes upon
them, declaring them to be, not merely good, but the
very best. And, first of all, I will set forth the various
species of ointments, that out of all we may select those
which most especially belong to the breasts of the Spouse.
There is, then, the ointment of Contrition, there is the
ointment of Devotion, and the ointment of Piety. The
first is pungent, causing pain. The second is soothing,
and tempers pain. The third is remedial, and banishes
pain. I now proceed to discuss these separately.
There is, therefore, an ointment which the soul,

84 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

burthened with sins, makes up for herself. This she does
when, beginning to consider her ways, she collects, heaps
up, and crushes in the mortar of conscience the many
and various species of her sins ; and in the crucible
of a fervid heart, melts down and fuses all together,
repentance and sorrow supplying the necessary heat.
Hence she can now say with the Psalmist, " My heart
grew hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall
flame out ." Behold, this is the first ointment wherewith
the sinful soul ought to anoint the beginnings of her
conversion and soothe her bleeding wounds. For the
first " sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit." Hence
as long as the poor and needy soul finds not wherewith
to compound for herself a better and more precious
ointment, let her not neglect to prepare this, even though
it be from the vilest materials, because " a contrite and
humble heart God will not despise." Besides, the
more contemptible she appears in her own eyes, from
the consideration of her past sins, the less so does she
appear in the Eyes of God. And, after all, if that visible
ointment, with which, as we read in the Gospel, the
Lord's corporeal Feet were anointed by Magdalen, was
but a figure of the invisible and spiritual kind of which
there is question here, we certainly cannot consider
this vile. For what is it we read of the former ? " The
house," writes the Evangelist, " was filled with the
perfume of the ointment." It was poured by the hand
of a sinner, and poured on the lowest members of the
sacred Body, that is, on the Feet. Yet it was not so
mean and contemptible but that it could fill the whole
house with the scent of its spices and the sweetness of
its perfumes. My brethren, if we could but realise what a
fragrance of delight is exhaled throughout the Church

ON THE SPIRITUAL OINTMENTS 85

by the conversion of a single sinner, and what an odour
of life unto life the public and perfect penitent becomes,
of him also we should proclaim with equal confidence
that " the house was filled with the perfume of the oint-
ment. " Nay, the perfume of penitence reaches even to
the supernal mansions of the blessed above, so that as
Truth Itself testifies, " There shall be joy amongst the
angels of God over one sinner doing penance." Rejoice,
therefore, ye penitents ! Be comforted, ye that are
fearful ! I refer to you, who, recently converted from
a worldly life and withdrawn from the ways of sin,
have experienced the bitterness and confusion of a con-
trite heart, with an exceeding pain and torment, as it
were of recent wounds. Let your hands distil with con-
fidence the bitterness of myrrh in this saving unction,
because " a contrite and humble heart God will not
despise." Certainly, we are not to despise or to consider
as vile such an anointing, the odour of which is a source
of edification to men, and of joy to the angels.

But there is another ointment more precious than
this in proportion as it is made from more excellent
materials. We have not far to seek for the elements
out of which we extract the ointment of Contrition.
They are always within reach and found without diffi-
culty. In the little gardens of our own consciences
we can easily gather as much and as often as our
necessities require. For, if we wish to be sincere,
which of us has not always of his own enough of sins
and iniquities ready to hand ? And, as you know, these
are the stuffs whence we obtain the first ointment,
described above. But this earth of ours can never
produce the spices that yield the second. " From afar
and from the uttermost coasts " must we seek them,

86 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

" for every best gift and every perfect gift is from
above, descending from the Father of lights." This
ointment, in fact, is extracted from the divine benefits
bestowed on the human race. Happy the man who
gathers them carefully, and, with worthy thanks, tries
to keep them constantly before the eyes of his soul !
When these sweet spices have been placed in the mortar
of the breast, and crushed and pounded under the
pestle of frequent meditation, and all fused together
by the heat of holy desires, and finally mingled with
the " oil of gladness," the result shall be, without any
doubt, an ointment far more precious and excellent
than the first. In proof of this, I need only quote the
testimony of Him Who said, " The sacrifice of praise
shall glorify Me." Now, this sacrifice will assuredly be
offered by him who keeps in mind the benefits of God.
Moreover, since Holy Scripture merely affirms of the
first ointment that it is not despised, whereas the second
is said to give glory, the latter is manifestly the more
highly commended. Again, this is applied to the
Head, whilst the other is poured upon the Feet. Now,
as in Christ the Head must be referred to the Divinity,
according to the words of St. Paul, " The Head of
Christ is God," doubtless he, who gives thanks, anoints
the Head, seeing that thanks are offered not to man but
to God. Not that He, Who is God, has not become
Man, since " God and Man are one Christ," but because
all good gifts, even such as are communicated through
man, have their ultimate source, not in man, but in
God. As we know, " it is the Spirit that quickeneth, the
flesh profiteth nothing." Therefore is it written "cursed
be the man that trusteth in man." For although it is
true that we place our whole hope in the Man-God,

ON THE SPIRITUAL OINTMENTS 87

nevertheless we do so not because He is Man, but
because He is God. Therefore, the ointment of Con-
trition is poured on the Feet, since the lowliness of a
contrite heart accords well with the humility of Christ's
Human Nature ; and that of Devotion is given to the
Head, because honour belongs to Majesty. Behold,
my brethren, what manner of ointment is this second
I have proposed to you, with which, namely, that royal
Head, Which makes the principalities tremble, does
not disdain to be anointed, — nay even deems Itself
honoured by the unction, according to the words,
" The sacrifice of praise shall glorify Me."

Wherefore, it is not in the power of a poor and needy,
that is, of a pusillanimous soul, to confect for herself
this spiritual ointment. The spices or elements from
which it is produced are only possessed by confidence,
which is itself the offspring of liberty of spirit and purity
of heart. For he that is diffident and weak in faith is
restricted by the scantiness of his resources, and by
reason of this poverty cannot spare time to devote
himself to the praises of God, or to the consideration of
the divine benefits which evokes these praises. And if
ever such a one has the courage to endeavour to raise
himself to this sublimity, domestic necessities and
clamorous cares drag him down again directly, and he
has perforce to confine himself once more within the
narrow limits of his straitened circumstances. If
you ask me the cause of such misery, I shall answer
by pointing to what, if I do not mistake, you will
recognise as existing, or, at least, as having existed in
your own selves. This feebleness and diffidence of soul
usually springs, as it seems to me, from one or other of
two causes, namely, from newness of conversion, or,

88 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

in the case of those who have been long in religion,
from tepidity of life. Both the beginner and the luke-
warm monk feel their souls oppressed, dejected, and
disquieted, the former because of the sudden change
of life involved in conversion, the latter because he
perceives his old passions revived by his laxity, and the
consequent necessity of devoting his energies again
to the task of rooting out the briers and nettles that
have sprung up anew in his interior garden, a work
which will require his continual presence at home.
For surely he who staggers under the burden of such
penitential labours cannot at the same time delight
himself in the praises of God. How can the mouth that
is filled with groans and lamentations give forth with
Isaias " thanksgiving and the voice of praise " ? We are
told by the Wise Man that " Music in mourning is as
a tale out of time.', Besides, thanksgiving does not
anticipate, but follows upon the bestowal of favours.
Now, the soul that is in sadness, far from rejoicing in
divine favours, is rather sorely in need of them. She
has, therefore, more incentives to prayer than motives
for thanksgiving. One cannot surely recall a benefit
which one has not yet received. Rightly, then, have
I said that the indigent soul is unable to produce for
herself the second species of ointment, which can be
extracted only from the recollection of heavenly favours.
She cannot see the light so long as she contemplates
the shadows. Plunged in bitterness, she occupies
herself with melancholy memories of her sins, to the
exclusion of every brighter thought. It is to such
souls the Prophet addresses the words, "It is vain for
you to rise before the light." As if he should say,
" vainly do you attempt to rise to the contemplation of

ON THE SPIRITUAL OINTMENTS 89

those benefits which excite feelings of pleasure, before
the remorse which disquiets you has been soothed by
the light of consolation." The ointment of Devotion,
therefore, is beyond the reach of the spiritually indigent.
But consider who they are that can sincerely lay
claim to an abundance of it. The two apostles "went
from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they
were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name
of Jesus." Assuredly, they had anointed themselves
well with the oil of the Spirit, whose sweetness* could
be soured neither by words nor stripes. For they were
rich in charity, which no expenditure can exhaust, and
from it they were always able to offer " holocausts full
of marrow." Their brimming hearts were constantly
distilling this sacred unguent, with which they were
then more abundantly supplied, when "they began to
speak in divers tongues the wonderful works of God,
according as the Holy Ghost gave them to speak."
Those also, no doubt, were richly provided with the same
precious liquor, to whom the Apostle bears witness
where he says, " I give thanks to my God always for
you, for the grace of God that is given you in Christ
Jesus, that in all things you are made rich in Him, in
all utterance, and in all knowledge, as the testimony of
Christ was confirmed in you, so that nothing is wanting
to you in any grace." My brethren, would to God
that I may be able to return similar thanks for you,
as beholding you rich in virtue, full of fervour in the
divine praises, and more plenteously abounding in all
spiritual graces, through Christ Jesus, Our Lord. Amen .

* Lenitas — smoothness. There seems to be an allusion here
to the wrestlers' custom of lubricating their bodies so as to
render their limbs more supple and flexible. — (Translator.)

SERMON XI

On the Mode and the Fruit of Redemption.

" Smelling sweet oj the best ointments."

I want to repeat, to-day, my brethren, what I said
at the end of my last discourse, namely, that I wish
to see you all participating in that heavenly unction,
whereby tervent devotion recalls with joy and grati-
tude the benefits bestowed by God. A very desirable
grace is this, and for two reasons. Firstly, it lightens
the labours of this present life, which become more
supportable for us whilst our souls are exulting in the
praises of God. And, secondly, because there is nothing
on earth which so nearly approximates to the life of
the blessed in heaven as a fervent choir singing to the
glory of the Lord. So Holy Scripture says, " Blessed
are they that dwell in Thy house, O Lord, for ever,
and ever they shall praise Thee." It is, as I think,
to this same ointment of Devotion in particular that
the Psalmist refers when he sings, " Behold how good
and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in
unity ! like the precious ointment on the head." Such
a commendation cannot, it seems to me, be applied to
the ointment of Contrition. That, although it is indeed
" good," can hardly be described as " pleasant,"
because the remembrance of past sin begets rather pain
than pleasure. Besides, they who are engaged in pro-
ducing that unguent do not " dwell together." Each
for himself mourns and laments over his own trans-
gressions. But when returning thanks, we direct all

90

ON THE MODE OF REDEMPTION 91

our thoughts and attention to God alone, and for this
reason we may be truly said to " dwell together."
Thanksgiving is " good," as rendering to God the
glory that is most justly due to Him. And it is
also " pleasant," inasmuch as it is a source of delight.
Wherefore, my brethren, I exhort you to withdraw
your minds occasionally from the sad and disquieting
memory of your sins, and to pass out of the confined
limits of your consciences into the smoother ways of
thoughts upon the benefits of God. Thus, after experi-
encing confusion within yourselves, you will feel your
courage revive at the view of the divine goodness.
I wish you would resolve to put to the test of experi-
ence that which the Prophet recommends to us in the
words, " Delight in the Lord and He will give thee
the requests of thy heart." True, sorrow for sin is
a necessity, yet it should not be continuous. It must
sometimes give place to the more cheering thoughts of the
divine clemency, lest otherwise the heart, frozen hard
by excessive sadness, should fall a victim to despair.
Let us, then, mingle a little honey with our wormwood,
in order that we may be able to swallow the bitters
thus tempered with sweets, and so derive advantage
to our spiiitual health. Listen to God Himself, how
He moderates the bitterness of a contrite heart, how
He recalls the pusillanimous from the abyss of despair,
how with the honey of sweet and faithful promises He
consoles the afflicted and raises up the dejected. By
the mouth of His Prophet He says, " For My praise
I will bridle thee, lest thou shouldst perish." That is
to say, " lest at the view of thy sins, thou shouldst
yield to excessive sadness, and, like a runaway horse,
plunge headlong over the precipice to thy destruction,

92 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

I will bridle thee, I will hold thee back to receive My
pardon, I will lift thee up to sing My praises, and thou
that art confounded at the memory of thy sins, shalt
have thy courage reanimated by the experience of My
bounty, discovering My mercy to be greater than thine
own guiltiness." Had Cain been held in check with this
bridle, never would he have cried out in despair, " My
iniquity is greater than that I may deserve pardon."
God forbid ! my brethren, God forbid ! The divine
loving-kindness is greater than any iniquity whatever.
Therefore " the just is his own accuser in the beginning
of his words," * but only in the beginning, not through-
out. Rather it is his custom to conclude his words
with the praises of God. Take an example of a just
man proceeding in this way. " I have thought on my
ways," sings David, " and turned my feet unto Thy
testimonies." For in his own ways he had endured
pain and misery, but had found delight in the way of
God's testimonies, "as in all riches." And do you,
therefore, my brethren, after the example of the just
man, " think of the Lord in goodness," whilst you think
of yourselves in humility. So we read in Wisdom,
' Think of the Lord in goodness, and seek Him in sim-
plicity of heart." This lesson must be impressed upon
your minds by a frequent, or rather by an uninter-
rupted remembrance of the divine bounty. Otherwise
how can that of the Apostle be fulfilled in you, " In
all things giving thanks," if you allow the benefits,
for which thanks should be rendered, to escape from

* These words are not found in the Vulgate. In Proverbs
xviii. 17, we read, "The just is first accuser of himself." But
St. Bernard's reading concurs also with others of the Fathers, and
exactly translates the Greek. Hence we may suppose that it
is taken from an earlier version. — (Translator.)

ON THE MODE OF REDEMPTION 93

your memory ? I should not like to see you deserving
the reproach formerly addressed to the Jews, of whom
the Scripture testifies that they were unmindful of
God's benefits and of the wonders He had worked in
their behalf.

But it is impossible, I will admit, for any man to
recall and keep in mind all the benefits which our
"compassionate and merciful Lord" ceases not to
bestow upon mortals. " Who shall declare the powers
of the Lord ? Who shall set forth all His praises ? "
Yet, at least, that which is the chief and greatest, I
mean the benefit of Redemption, ought surely never
to depart from the memory of the redeemed. In this
there are two things which I now wish to recommend,
in a special way, to your consideration. I shall be as
brief as possible, remembering what is said in Proverbs,
" Give an occasion to a wise man, and wisdom shall
be added to him." The two things of which I speak
are the mode of our Redemption, and its fruit. The
mode is God's emptying of Himself. The fruit is His
filling of us from Himself. " Meditate on these things."
The latter is the seed of holy hope ; the former an in-
centive to the most ardent love. But both are neces-
sary to our progress, lest our hope, unaccompanied by
love, should become mercenary, or our love grow
lukewarm if considered productive ot no fruit.

Furthermore, the fruit which we expect from our
love is that which has been promised by Him Who is
the Object of our love, " good measure, and pressed
down, and shaken together and running over, shall
they give into your bosom." That measure, as I am
told, will be without measure. But my desire is to
know what that thing is which is to be measured to

94 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

us according to the measure, or rather according to the
immensity promised us. "The eye hath not seen, O
God ! besides Thee what things Thou hast prepared for
them that love Thee." Do Thou, Who hast made the
preparation, vouchsafe Thyself to tell us what Thou hast
prepared. It is our belief, it is our confident hope that,
as Thou hast promised, so shall it be, and that " we
shall be filled with the good things of Thy house. "
But what are these " good things " and of what kind ?
Perhaps " corn and oil and wine " ? Gold, and silver
and precious stones ? But we can " conceive " what
these are, and our eyes have " seen " them. We see them
and feel only disdain and disgust for prizes so poor.
What I seek is that which " eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of
man to conceive." That is pleasant, that is sweet,
that is delightful to inquire about, whatever it may
be. " They shall be all taught of God," says St. John,
" and God shall be all in all." I am informed, then,
that the plenitude which we expect from God, is nothing
less than a plenitude of God.

But, my brethren, who can comprehend " how great
is the multitude of sweetness " which is hidden in this
short word, " and God shall be all in all " ! Not to
speak ol the body, I discern in the soul three faculties,
to wit, reason, will, and memory. And these, I say,
are not so much powers of the soul, as the soul herself.*

* This expression does not necessitate our admitting that
the Mellifluous Doctor belonged to the school of philosophers
(including Scotus and Ockham amongst medieval authors, and
amongst modern scholastics Gutberlet, Jungmann and appa-
rently Maher, cf. his Psychology, p. 36) who teach that the
faculties of the soul are really identical with the soul. For there
is a sense in which, consistently with a real distinction between
them, the faculties can be said to be the soul. — (Translator.)

ON THE MODE OF REDEMPTION 95

How much is wanting to the integrity and perfection
of each of the three in this present life is well known to
every man that walks according to the spirit. Why
should this be so, unless because of the fact that God is
not yet " all in all " ? Hence it is that the reason is so
very often deceived in its judgments, that the will is
agitated by a fourfold perturbation,* that the memory
is overclouded by a manifold oblivion. To these three
kinds of " vanity " the noble " creature is made subject,
not willingly, but in hope." For He " Who satisfieth "
the soul's " desire with good things," will Himself be-
come to the reason a Plenitude of Light, to the wall an
Immensity of Peace, and to the memory an ever abiding
Eternity. O Truth ! O Love ! O Eternity ! O Blessed
and Beatifying Trinity ! After Thee this miserable
trinity of mine (viz., the soul herself, as endowed
with her three faculties) miserably yearns, because it can

* What these perturbations are the holy Preacher does not
pause to explain, because he takes it for granted that his hearers
will understand. In the same way he refers to, without naming
them, in his book On the Love of God, ch. viii. But in his second
sermon for Lent, and in the fiftieth " De Diversis," he treats
the subject explicitly. In the latter place, commenting on the
text, " Go forth, ye daughters of Sion, and see King Solomon
in the diadem wherewith His mother hath crowned Him," he
writes : " He alone, viz., Christ, has been crowned by His
mother, for He alone came forth from His mother's womb with
His passions in order, as a Bridegroom coming forth from the
bridal-chamber. These passions, as is well known, are four,
namely, love, joy, fear, and sadness." This is, in fact, the tra-
ditional classification of the passions, said to have originated
with Zeno of Cittium (350-258 B.C.), founder of the Stoic philo-
sophical school, who taught his disciples that the only road to
peace and happiness was by the eradication of these four emo-
tions {ndBr}), Cicero discusses them in the Tusculan Disputations ;
St. Augustine (De Civ. Dei, xiv. 9) shows, like St. Bernard,
that not only are they not evil in themselves, but they can
even be made most important auxiliaries of virtue. — (Translator.)

96 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

nowhere find content so long as it remains an exile
from Thee. By departing from Thee in what errors
has it not involved itself ! in what sorrows ! in what
terrors ! Woe, woe is me ! For what kind of trinity
have I exchanged Thee, O Blessed and Divine Trinity !
" My heart is troubled, " and hence my sorrows. " My
strength hath left me," and hence -my terrors. " And
the light of my eyes itself is not with me," and hence
my errors. Behold, O trinity of my soul, how different
a trinity from the Divine thou hast fallen upon in thy
exile !

Yet, "why art thou sad, O my soul, and why dost
thou trouble me ? Hope in God, for I will still give
praise to Him," that is, when errors shall have been
banished from my reason, sorrows from my will, and
terrors from my memory, and when, according to my
hope, there shall succeed to them admirable tran-
quillity, perfect sweetness, and eternal security. The
first of these I shall find in God as He is Truth, the
second in God as He is Love, the third in God as He
is Almighty Power. Thus shall God be all in all, com-
municating Himself to my reason as everlasting Light,
to my will as imperturbable Peace, and to my memory
as an unfailing, eternally flowing Fountain of Truth.
I leave it to you, my brethren, to decide whether I
should be right if I attributed the first grace to the
Son, the second to the Holy Spirit, and the last to the
Father. Yet this must not be understood in such a
way as really to exclude either the Father, or the Son,
or the Holy Ghost from any one of the three commu-
nications. For we should be on our guard lest we
admit in the Three Divine Persons any such distinc-
tion as would detract from the plenitude of perfection

ON THE MODE OF REDEMPTION 97

common to All, or, on the other hand, any such pleni-
tude of perfection as would be incompatible with the
Personal Distinctions. At the same time, take notice
that in the same way as the just derive tranquillity,
sweetness, and security from the Divine Trinity, the
earthly-minded experience a corresponding threefold
influence from the trinity of evil, viz., the allurements
of the flesh, the empty pageants of the world, and the
pomps of the devil ; and it is by this noxious influence
alone that the present life succeeds in deluding its
wretched lovers. Hence, St. John tells us " all that is
in the world is concupiscence of the flesh, and con-
cupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life." So much
for the fruit of Redemption.

In the mode of Redemption, which, if you remember,
I described as an emptying of Himself on the part of
God, there are also three things to which I would par-
ticularly invite your attention. For that emptying was
not imperfect or partial. "He emptied Himself" even
to the extent of taking flesh, of enduring death, even
the death of the cross. Who can conceive the humility,
the loving-kindness, the condescension manifested
by the Lord of Majesty in assuming our nature,
in bearing the pains of death, in submitting to the
shame of crucifixion ? But it may be asked, " Could
not the Creator have repaired the work of His hands
without all this trouble ? " Most certainly He could.
Yet He preferred to do so at such cost to Himself in
order to take from man every shadow of excuse for
that most detestable and hateful vice of ingratitude.
If, then, He endured so much hardship it was with the
view to make man His debtor for so much love, and
that at least the difficulty of Redemption might remind

l, G

98 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

us of the obligation of thanksgiving, in whom creation,
because of its easiness, had failed to awaken any feel-
ing of devotion or gratitude. For how does this
ungrateful human creature look upon the benefit of
Creation ? "I have been created, indeed," he says,
" without merit of my own, yet also without incon-
venience or trouble on the part of my Maker. He
simply spoke and I was made, in common with every-
thing else. What great thing is it whatever thou be-
stowest, when the gift costs thyself nothing more than
a word ? " Thus, the impiety of man, depreciating
the benefit of Creation, found an occasion for ingra-
titude there precisely where it should have discovered
only motives for love, and that " to make excuses for
sins." But now " the mouth is stopped of them that
speak wicked things." Now, O man, it is as clear as
daylight what sacrifice of Himself the Creator made for
thee. From Lord He became a servant ; from rich He
became poor ; from the Word Divine He was made
flesh ; and from the Son of God He did not disdain to
become the Son of man. Remember, then, that, if
created from nothing, thou hast not been redeemed for
nothing. In six days God created all things, thyself
included. But for the space of thirty-three whole years
" He wrought salvation in the midst of the earth."
Oh, what labours He endured ! Did He not, by the
ignominy of His cross, add bitterness for Himself to
the necessities of the flesh and the temptations of the
enemy, and crown them all with the horror of His
death? And indeed it was needful for us that He
should do so.* Thus, O Lord ! thus " men and beasts

* This seems to unsay what has been said above. But there
is no real contradiction. In the preceding page the Saint, in
opposition to the two other great lights of his time, St. Anselm

ON THE MODE OF REDEMPTION 99

Thou hast saved. Oh, how Thou hast multiplied Thy
mercy, O God ! "

" Meditate on these things," my brethren ; live in
them. With their perfume refresh your hearts, long
dried up within you by the pungent odours of your
sins. So shall you abound in those unguents which are
both sweet and salutary. Nevertheless, do not imagine
you possess, as yet, the " best ointments," so highly
commended in the breasts of the Spouse. But my
limits will not permit that I should speak of these
now. What I have said about the other two, keep
fresh in your memory and prove its truth by the test
of experience. And with respect to the third and most
excellent ointment, assist me by your prayers that my
discourse thereon may be worthy, both in matter and
manner, of that delightful supplement to the attrac-
tions of the Bride, and may animate your souls to the
love of the Bridegroom, Who is Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen.

and Richard of St. Victor, denies that the Passion and Death
of Christ was the only means at God's disposal for saving the
human race ; here, in opposition to Abelard, he maintains the
congruity or moral necessity of that manner of redemption.
The whole subject is discussed with masterly skill in his 190th
Epistle, addressed to Innocent II. — (Translator.)

SERMON XII
On the Ointment of Piety.

" Smelling sweet of the best ointments."

I have already explained to you, my brethren, two
of the precious ointments which perfume the breasts
of the Spouse, that of Contrition, which " covereth a
multitude of sins/' and that of Devotion, which em-
braces a multitude of benefits. Both are saluta^,
although not both sweet. The first exhales a pungent
odour, because the bitter remembrance of sin excites
to compunction and sorrow. The second is more sooth-
ing, since the contemplation of the divine goodness
is a source of consolation and moderates grief. But
there remains a third ointment, which far excels both
of these. I have called this the unguent of Piety,
because it is extracted from the necessities of the poor,
the anxieties of the oppressed, the sorrows of the sad,
the sins of the guilty, in a word, from all the miseries
of all the miserable, even of those who are our enemies.
These elements appear to be contemptible. Yet the
ointment produced from them surpasses in value all
aromatic spices. It is a healing ointment, since " Blessed
are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy." There-
fore, the mateiials, from which are produced those
" best ointments," worthy of the breasts of the Spouse,
and sweet to the smell of her Beloved, are nothing else
than many miseries collected together, and contem-
plated with the eye of piety. Happy the soul that is

IOO

ON THE OIN1MENT OF PIETY 101

careful to enrich and strengthen herself with a goodly
store of such aromatic elements, moistening them with
the oil of mercy and compounding them into an oint-
ment by means of the fire of charity ! Who, think
you, is the " acceptable man, that sheweth mercy and
lendeth," that is easily moved to compassion, prompt
to succour, " judging it more blessed to give than to
receive," that is quick to forgive and slow to anger,
never harbouring resentment, and in everything look-
ing as much to his neighbour's necessities as to his
own ? O whosoever thou art that art such, so saturated
with the dew of mercy, so abounding in the bowels of
piety, so making thyself all things to all, so become
to thyself as " a broken vessel " in order to be ready
always and everywhere to run to the help and relief
of others, in short, so dead to thyself that thou mayst
live to all beside — thou assuredly art the happy pos-
sessor of this third and most precious ointment !
Thy hands have distilled this liquor containing all
manner of sweetness ! It shall not be dried up in the
evil time ; neither shall the heat of persecution exhaust
it. But God shall be always " mindtul of all thy
sacrifices and thy whole burnt- offering " shall "be
made fat."

There are men of spiritual wealth in the city of the
Lord of virtues. I wish to know if any amongst them
are possessed of this ointment. And here, as every-
where else, the first name that occurs to me is the
name of St. Paul, the " Vessel of election," truly a
vessel of fragrant spices, a vessel of perfumes, a
vessel filled with odoriferous substances of all kinds.
He was, indeed, " the good odour of Christ unto God,"
in every place. Far and wide did that great heart of

102 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

his, oppressed as it was by " solicitude for all the
churches," scatter the fragrance of delicious sweetness.
See what manner of spices and aromatic elements he
gathered together for himself : "I die daily, I protest
by your glory," he says. Again, " Who is weak and
I am not weak ? Who is scandalised and I am not
on fire ? " Vast stores of such precious material, ex-
hibited in places known to you all, my brethren, did
this wealthy man possess, to be used in confecting the
" best ointments." For it was fitting that those breasts
should be redolent of the purest and most excellent
unguents ; those breasts, I say, which suckled the
mystical members of Christ, to whom St. Paul was
certainly a mother, being in travail once and a
second time, until Christ had been formed in them,
and the members brought into conformity with the
Head.

I will tell you also of another spiritually rich man,
and how he kept a supply of select spices from which
to produce these " best ointments." " The stranger,"
says holy Job, " did not stay without, my door was
open to the traveller." And again, " I was an eye to
the blind, and a foot to the lame. I was the father
of the poor. I broke the jaws of the wicked man, and
out of his teeth I took awaj' the prey. If I have denied
to the poor what they desired, and have made the
eyes of the widow wait ; if I have eaten my morsel
alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten thereof ; if I
have despised him that was perishing for want of
clothing, and the poor man that had no covering ; if
his sides have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed
with the fleece of my sheep." With what a sweet per-
fume this man by his works must have filled the earth !

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY 103

sJ

His every act was an aromatic spice. He heaped up
his soul with such odoriferous elements in order that
the fragrant exhalations of internal sweetness might
temper the stench of his rotting flesh.

When Joseph had caused the whole of Egypt to run
after him to the odour of his ointments, he also per-
mitted their fragrance to reach even to those who had
sold him into slavery. He did, indeed, use words of
reproof, and he looked with an angry countenance.
Yet the tears which burst forth from the softness of
his heart were indicative, not of wrath, but of mercy.
Samuel mourned for Saul who was seeking to kill him.
His heart, melted within by the fire of that charity
which warmed his breast, flowed out in tears of piety
through the channels of his eyes. Regarding the
pleasant odour of good fame which he scattered on
every side, Holy Scripture bears this testimony : " And
all Israel, from Dan to Bersabee, knew that Samuel
was a faithful prophet of the Lord." What shall I
say of Moses ? With what fatness and richness did
not he also replenish his soul ! Not even that " ex-
asperating house," in which he lived for a time, with
all its murmuring, with all its madness, was able to
rub off the oil wherewith his spirit had been anointed
once and for all. Hence, amidst constant disputes and
daily wranglings, he persevered unmoved in his meek-
ness. Justly, therefore, does the inspired author testify
of him that he " was exceeding meek above all men
that dwelt upon earth," for even " with them that
hated peace he was peaceful." So meek, in fact, was
he, that not only did he not get angry with an un-
grateful and rebellious people, but he even, by his
intervention, appeased the anger of God enkindled

io4 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

against them. So it is written : " And He said He
would destroy them, had not Moses, His chosen, stood
before Him in the breach, to turn away His wrath, lest
He should destroy them." Again, we read of him
saying to God, " Either forgive them this trespass, or,
if Thou do not, strike me out of the Book of Life which
Thou hast written. " Behold a man truly anointed
with the unction of mercy ! He speaks verily with the
affection of a mother who can be contented with no
happiness which her children do not share. Suppose,
for instance, that a person of wealth said to a poor
woman, " Come to my house and have dinner with
me, but leave behind that infant which thou bearest
in thy arms, lest it should begin to cry and cause us
annoyance." Think you, my brethren, she would
accept such an invitation ? Would she not rather
choose to suffer hunger than, abandoning her beloved
child, to dine alone with her rich benefactor ? So,
neither would Moses be satisfied to " enter into the
joy of his Lord," whilst the people remained without ;
for, inconstant though they were and ungrateful, yet
he clung to them as would a mother to the child of her
womb, and with a truly maternal affection. His heart,
which they bitterly grieved, was more willing to endure
this suffering than to bear the sorrow of seeing them
torn from it.

Where shall we find a better model of meekness than
David, who lamented the death of Saul, of the man,
I say, who had always thirsted for his ? What greater
charity than thus to mourn for one whose removal
brought himself to the throne ? He was almost in-
consolable at the loss of a parricidal son. What an
abundance of the " best ointment " is revealed in such

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY 105

an affection ! No wonder, then, he could pray with
confidence, saying, " O Lord, remember David and all
his meekness." * Therefore, all these possessed those
" best ointments," of which they are redolent even
to-day throughout the universal Church. And not only
they, but also eveiy one who in this life shows himself
so benevolent and beneficent, who tries to converse with
such kindness amongst men, that instead of keeping for
himself the graces he receives, he devotes them all,
without exception, to the common use, considering him-
self, as St. Paul, a debtor alike to friends and enemies,
"to the wise and the unwise." Because persons of
this description are useful to all, and humble in all,
therefore are they loved above all both by God and
man, and the fragrance of their virtues " shall be in
benediction." Those, I repeat, whose lives have been
such, have perfumed with their precious ointments,
not only the times in which they Jived, but even all
subsequent ages. Thou also, my brother, if thou will-
ingly sharest with us, thy companions, the gifts thou
hast received from above ; if thou showest thyself
everywhere amongst us obliging, affectionate, grateful,
obedient, and humble: thou, also, shalt receive testi-
mony of all that thou art redolent of the " best oint-
ments." Yes, every individual amongst you, brethren,
who not only supports with patience the corporal and
spiritual infirmities of his brother, but, so far as he is

* Ps. cxxxi. 1. Concerning the authorship of this psalm
there is some uncertainty. Cardinal Bellarmin writes, " Either
it was composed by Solomon after the building of the Temple
when the ark of the Lord was brought into the place prepared
for it ; or, at any rate, it was then sung by him, although David
may have written it for that occasion, and given it to his son." —
(Translator.)

io6 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

permitted and has the power, assists him by kind
offices, comforts him by his words, and directs him by
his counsels, or, if the Rule will not allow of this, con-
soles the weakling, at least by his fervent and incessant
prayer — every such person, I say, exhales a good odour
in his community, and " smells sweet ox the best oint-
ments." As balsam in the mouth, so is such a reli-
gious in a monastery. His brothers point him out and
say of him, ■' This is a lover of his brethren and of the
people of Israel. This is he that prayeth much for the
people and for all the holy city."

But let us now turn to the New Testament, and see
if we can find there any reference to these " best oint-
ments." We read in St. Mark that " Mary Magdalen,
and Mary, the mother of James, and Salome bought
sweet spices that coming they might anoint Jesus."
What were those ointments, so precious that they were
purchased and prepared especially for the Body of
Christ, and so abundant that they were sufficient for
the anointing of every part of It ! We nowhere find in
the Gospel that any of the other two kinds of ointments
were either procured or compounded for the special pur-
pose of anointing the Lord, or that they were poured
out over the whole of His Body. But a woman is sud-
denly introduced, in one place kissing His Feet and
dropping unguent upon Them ; in another, whether the
same person or a different,* emptying out upon His

* The question as to whether the sinful woman mentioned
in Luke vii. 36-50, Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus, and
Mary Magdalen are one and the same, or two, or even three
different persons has been keenly controverted from the earliest
ages of the Church. Down to the beginning of the seventh
century, the majority of writers seem to have distinguished
between the three. But the authority of Pope St. Gregory (590-

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY 107

sacred Head an alabaster box of precious oil. Yet
here it is said, " they bought sweet spices that coming
they might anoint Jesus." They did not buy the
ointment, but the sweet spices. The perfume for the
holy Body was not obtained ready made ; it was freshly
extracted by themselves from the aromatic elements.
Neither was it applied to some particular part only,
for instance, to the Head or the Feet. But, as it is
written, "that coming they might anoint Jesus."
What embraces the whole must not be restricted to
a part.

Do you, also, my brethren, put on the bowels of
mercy ; show yourselves generous and kind, not alone
to parents and relatives, not alone to those from whom
you have received or hope to receive benefits, for even

604) gave the opinion in favour of their identity a preponderance
which it still retains. St. Bernard, although he here speaks
doubtfully, has adopted the latter view in his third sermon on
the Assumption and elsewhere. MacEvilly calls it "the more
probable opinion, yet still warmly disputed."

Another matter in dispute is the number of anointings. Is
the anointing of the Saviour's Feet by the sinful woman, spoken
of in Luke vii., the same as that mentioned in John xii. ? St.
Bernard evidently thinks so, and hence identifies Mary, the
sister of Martha, with the "woman who was a sinner." But
it is now generally believed that, although performed by the
same person, the anointings were really distinct. As a matter
of fact, there is much more reason for identifying the anointing
described in Mark xiv. with that of John xii., which, however,
St. Bernard assumes to be different, if not by different persons.
Both took place at Bethany, the native village of Mary, Martha,
and Lazarus ; on both occasions the disciples complained of the
waste ; and on both our Lord answered them in the same words.
True, St. Mark tells us it was the Head that was anointed, whilst
according to St. John it was the Feet. But these statements
are easily reconciled by supposing both narratives to be but
partial accounts of the same event, and supplementary of each
other. — (Translator.)

108 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the heathens do this, but, according to the counsel
of the Apostle, study to do good to all, so that, for
God's sake, you will not refuse or withhold, even in
the case of an enemy, any service you can render to
body or soul. So shall it be manifest that you too
abound with the " best ointments," and have pur-
posed to perfume, as far as depends on you, not merely
the Lord's Head or Feet, but His entire mystical Body,
which is the Church. Perhaps the reason why the Lord
Jesus would not have the ointment which had been
prepared for Him, to be poured upon His dead Body,
was that it might be reserved for His living Body.
For the Church is living and eats of " the living Bread
That came down from heaven." It is the Body which
Christ loves best, which He will not suffer to taste
death, whereas His natural Body was delivered up to
death, as every Christian knows. It is His mystical
Body that He wants us to anoint and to cherish ; and
He desires us to apply the more special and efficacious
medicaments to its weak members. For this, therefore,
He would keep the precious ointment, when, antici-
pating the hour and hastening the glory of His Resur-
rection, He thus enlightened rather than refused the
devotion of the holy women. If He was unwilling to
be anointed, it was as sparing the unction, not as
spurning it. He did not decline the service, but post-
poned it to a time when it would be a greater benefit.
I am not now referring to any benefit from the material
and corporal unction, but to the spiritual benefit sym-
bolised by that. For this reason, therefore, He, the
Master of piety, refused for Himself the best ointments
of piety, because He wished they should be reserved
for relieving the necessities, both corporal and spiritual,

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY 109

of His own indigent members. When, a little earlier,
ointment was poured on His Head and even on His
Feet, and precious ointment too, did He forbid it ?
On the contrary, He reprimanded those that were pre-
suming to do so. To Simon, who was angry that He
should allow Himself to be touched by a sinner, He
administered a reproof in the form of a lengthy parable.
And when the disciples complained of the waste of
ointment, He said to them, " Why are you troublesome
to this woman ? "

Sometimes (if I may here digress a little) when pros-
trate and in tears at the Feet of my Jesus, offering Him,
at the thought of my sins, the " sacrifice of an afflicted
spirit," or when standing at His Head (a grace more
rare with me) and exulting in the memory of His bene-
fits, I also have heard people complain and ask, " To
what purpose is this waste ? " They complained,
I mean, that I was living for myself alone, when I
might, as they supposed, be assisting many. " For
this," they said, " could have been sold for much and
given to the poor." But it would be an unprofitable
traffic for me, if I gained the whole world and lost
myself and my own soul. Hence, understanding such
expressions of discontent to be the" dead flies," men-
tioned in Scripture, which destroy the fragrance of the
ointment, I remembered the words of God : " O My
people ! they that bless thee, the same deceive thee."
But let those who accuse me of taking my ease hear
the Lord excusing me and answering for me. " Why,"
He asks, " are you troublesome to this woman ? "
That is to say, " You look on the face, and, therefore,
you judge according to the face. He is not a man,
as you suppose, who is able to stretch forth his hand

no ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to hard things, but only a weak woman. Why would
you lay a burden on him to which I see he is unequal ?
He is doing ' a good work upon Me.' Let him con-
tinue in this good, until he gets strength to do better.
If ever he changes from a woman to a man, and to
a perfect man, then he may also be employed in a
manly and perfect work."

My brethren, let us look upon bishops with honour,
and upon their labours with fear. We should never aspire
to the episcopal dignity, if we considered the toil it in-
volves. Let us, then, acknowledge the inadequacy of
our powers, and let us not imagine that the soft and
feeble shoulders of women such as we are, can support
with ease the burdens of strong men. It is our duty
to honour these men, and not to scrutinise their con-
duct with a critical eye. It would be intolerable that
you should censure the work of those whose responsi-
bilities you refuse to undertake,* just as it would be
impertinence in a woman spinning at home to rebuke
her warrior husband returning from battle. So, if a
religious in his cloister should occasionally observe a
secular cleric, who toils amongst the people, carrying
himself with too much freedom or too little circum-
spection, for instance, sinning by excess in eating, in
speaking, in sleeping, in hilarity, in anger, or in censure,
let him not at once hasten to condemn, but let him
remember what is written, " Better is the iniquity of
a man, than a woman doing a good turn." For the
monk, indeed, does well in keeping a watchful guard
over himse)t. But he who labours for the good of the

* St. Bernard had already refused several episcopal and
archiepiscopal sees, such as those of Rheims, Genoa, and Milan.
— (Translator.)

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY in

people performs a more excellent and more manly
work. And if this cannot be done without some degree
of " iniquity," that is, without slight departures from
strict regularity of life and conversation, we must
bear in mind that " charity covereth a multitude of
sins." So much with regard to those two temptations
by which the devil incites religious persons either to
ambition the dignity of bishops, or rashly to condemn
them for their failings.

But we must now return to the ointments of the
Spouse. Do you not perceive how much the ointment
of Piety is to be preferred to those of Contrition and
Devotion, from the fact that it alone is not allowed to
be wasted ? Indeed, so little is waste tolerated in the
case of this " best ointment," that even the gift of a
cup of cold water is not permitted to go unrequited.
Precious, nevertheless, is the unguent of Contrition,
which is extracted from the recollection of sin, and is
poured upon the Lord's Feet, because " a contrite
and humble heart God will not despise." Far more
precious still is what I have named the ointment of
Devotion, which is produced from the thought of the
divine benefits, and is deemed worthy to be applied
to the Saviour's Head. Hence God Himself says of
it, " The sacrifice of praise shall glorify Me." But, as I
have just remarked, superior to both is the unction of
Piety, which is confected out of a sympathetic regard
for the miserable, and which spreads its fragrance over
the whole Body of Christ. I speak not of that Body
Which hung upon the Cross, but of that mystical Body
which He acquired by His Passion. This third oint-
ment is indeed so excellent, that in comparison with
it God declares the others to be unworthy of His notice,

H2 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

where He says, " I will have mercy and not sacrifice."
In my judgment, therefore, the perfume of this virtue
of mercy or piety is exhaled in a degree beyond all
others from the breasts of the Spouse, who is doubtless
anxious to conform herself in all things to the will of
her Beloved. Did not Tabitha,* even in death, give
forth the sweet fragrance of mercy ? And therefore
it was that she so quickly revived, because the odour
of life in her prevailed over death.

Now, listen to an " abbreviated word," that is, a
recapitulation of this subject. Whoever inebriates his
neighbour with his words and perfumes him with his
benefits, the same may consider as addressed to himself
the eulogium, " For thy breasts are better than wine,
smelling sweet of the best ointments." But who is
sufficient for this ? Which of us can spend even a
single hour so justly and perfectly as not sometimes to
grow unfruitful in speech or remiss in action ? Yet
there is one who can make such a boast with all truth
and justice. I mean the Church, to which, in her uni-
versality, the means are never lacking both for inebri-
ating and for perfuming. For what she wants in one of
her members she possesses in another, according to
the measure of the gift of Christ and the distribution
of the Holy Spirit, " dividing to everyone as He willeth."
In those who make unto themselves " friends of the
mammon of iniquity," the Church exhales an odour of
sweetness. She inebriates in the persons of her preachers,
who pour out the wine of spiritual joy over the whole
earth, intoxicate the nations therewith, and " bring
forth fruit in patience." Thus she may confidently
and securely call herself the Spouse, inasmuch as she

* Acts ix. 36-42.

ON THE OINTMENT OF PIETY 113

possesses the " breasts better than wine, smelling sweet
of the best ointments." But although none of us, my
brethren, will be so presumptuous as to dare to call
his soul the spouse of Christ, nevertheless, as we are
members of the Church which rightly glories in this
title, and in the reality corresponding to the title, we
at least may each justly claim a participation in that
high prerogative. What we possess all collectively in a
:omplete and perfect manner, without doubt we also
possess individually by participation. Thanks to Thee,
Lord Jesus, Who hast vouchsafed to number us amongst
the members of Thy Church, not alone that we might
be Thy faithful servants, but also that, as spouses of
Thine, we might be united to Thee in the sweet and
chaste and everlasting embrace of love, and admitted
to contemplate the glory of Thy unveiled Countenance,
which glory is common to Thee with the Father and the
Holy Ghost for ever and ever. Amen.

1.

SERMON XIII
Glory belongs to God alone.

" Thy name is as oil poured out."

As the ocean, my brethren, is the source of all rivers
and fountains, so is our Lord Jesus Christ the Weil-
Spring of all virtue and knowledge. For who but the
"King of Glory" can be the "Lord of Virtues"?
And, according to the Canticle of Anna, the same Lord
is " the God of knowledge." Purity of body, diligent
use of the affections (industria cordis), rectitude of
will — all flow from this Divine Fountain. Yet not
such graces only. Every intellectual endowment,
every gift of eloquence, every pleasing disposition,
must also be ascribed to the same Source. Thence is
derived every word of wisdom and all knowledge, from
Him, namely, " in Whom all the treasures of wisdom
and knowledge are hidden." What, I ask, are chaste
thoughts, just judgments, holy desires, but so many
rivulets from that Divine Spring ? Now, if the currents
of natural water are ceaselessly pouring themselves
back again into the sea through secret and subterranean
channels, in order to return once more to us with un-
wearied service, for the satisfaction of our sight and
supply of our necessities ; why should not the spiritual
streams, also, revert to their Source without interrup-
tion or diminution, so that they may revisit and
irrigate anew the plains of our souls ? Therefore, let

the rivers of grace flow back to the Fountain-Head,

n4

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 115

that they may again descend upon us. Let the heavenly
tide re-seek its Origin that the earth may be watered
with a more generous inundation. Do you ask how
this is to be done ? The Apostle tells you when he says,
" In all things giving thanks." Whatever wisdom,
whatever virtue you believe yourselves to possess, attri-
bute it all to Christ, Who is the Wisdom and the
Knowledge of God.

' But," you will say, " who would be so foolish as to
presume to do otherwise ? " No one, indeed. Even the
Pharisee gives thanks. Nevertheless, his thanksgiving
" hath no praise from God." If I remember aright what
is said in the Gospel, Irs expression of gratitude did not
make him more pleasing. Why ? Because whatever
devotion sounded from his lips, it was not sufficient to
excuse the swelling of his heart in the eyes of Him Who
" knoweth the high afar off." O Pharisee, remember
that " God is not mocked." Thinkest thou that thou
hast anything " which thou hast not received " ?
" Nothing," thou confessest, " and therefore I give
thanks to the Giver." But, if so, then it is in view of
no antecedent merit on thy part that thou hast
received those graces of which thou art boasting.
Assuming that thou dost admit this also, it is conse-
quently, in the first place, the height of senseless arro-
gance in thee to despise the Publican, who for this
reason alone has not so much as thou, because he has
not gratuitously received so much. Secondly, consider
well lest thou be not returning His gifts to God, whole
and entire, but by fraudulently appropriating some-
thing to thyself of His honour and glory, mayst justly
lay thyself open to the charge of theft, and theft against
God. Wert thou openly to attribute to thyself some

n6 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

credit for those things whereof thou art boasting, as if
they were not only in thee, but from thee, I should
rather believe thee to be in error than to have the will
to commit an act of injustice, and consequently I should
attempt to correct thy mistake. Now, however, by
returning thanks, thou dost show that thou art ascrib-
ing nothing to thyself, but dost prudently acknowledge
all thy merits to be the gifts of God. Hence, in con-
temning others, thou betrayest thyself and showest
thyself "to have spoken with a double heart," with
one heart lending thy lips to a lie, and with the other
usurping the glory of truth. For thou couldst not
have judged the Publican to be worthy of contempt
in comparison with thyself, without esteeming thyself
to be worthy of honour in comparison with him. But
what wilt thou reply to the Apostle, who prescribes
and enjoins that "to God alone be honour and glory " ?
How canst thou answer the angels who distinguished
and explained what God is pleased to reserve to Him-
self and what He condescends to share with mortals ?
11 Glory to God in the highest," sang they, " and on
earth peace to men of good will." You see, my breth-
ren, how the Pharisee gives thanks, honouring God
indeed, but only with his lips, whilst he honours himself
by the sentiments of his heart. Thus you may hear
words of thanks from the mouths of many, but more
out of custom or convention than from affection or
conviction ; so much so, that the most abandoned
criminals are wont to give thanks to God for having
succeeded well and prosperously, as they imagine, in
the accomplishment of their perverse purposes. Listen,
for instance, to the thief, when he has brought his
wicked machinations to a successful issue, and possessed

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 117

himself at last of some long-coveted booty. In his
heart he exults with joy and exclaims, " Thanks be to
God ! I have not watched in vain ; I have not lost
my nocturnal labour." Does not the murderer simi-
larly rejoice and return thanks that he has prevailed
over a rival or avenged himself on an enemy ? And
the profligate, also, joyously gives praise to God for
that he has at last attained the means of gratifying
his evil passion.

It follows, my brethren, that not all thanksgiving
is acceptable with God, but only that which proceeds
from a chaste, sincere, and simple heart. I say a
"chaste heart," to exclude those who glory in their
evil deeds and for them return thanks. As if God,
like themselves, could take pleasure in their wicked
doings, and could exult in their abominations ! He
that is such a one shall hear addressed to him these
words of reproach, " Thou thoughtest unjustly that I
shall be like to thee, but I will reprove thee and set
before thy face." I have said " from a sincere heart,"
on account of hypocrites, who appear indeed to attri-
bute to God the merit of whatever good they possess,
but glorify Him only with their lips, the heart with-
holding what the tongue concedes. And because
" in His sight they do deceitfully," their " iniquity is
found unto hatred." The one class impiously attribute
to God their own crimes ; the other fraudulently ascribe
to themselves the gifts of God. So stupid, so ungodly,
so brutish even is the former vice that there is no need
for me to put you on your guard against it. The latter,
however, is wont to beset the path of religious and
spiritual persons, in particular. Of a surety, it is high
virtue, and as rare as high, to be able to do great works

xi8 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

without esteeming oneself great, and to conceal one's
sanctity from oneself alone whilst manifesting it to
all others. To my thinking, there is no virtue so
admirable as that a man should appear wonderful in
the eyes of others and contemptible in his own. Thou
art truly a faithful servant, if thou sufferest not to cling
to thine own hands any part of whatever glory may
redound from thy works to thy Lord, which glory,
although it does not proceed from thee, yet passes
through thee. Then, according to the Prophet, thou
wilt " cast away avarice by oppression, and shake thy
hands free from all bribes." Then, as the Lord com-
mands, thy light will " shine before men," unto the
glory, not of thyself, but of thy " Father, Who is in
heaven." And thou wilt be an imitator of St. Paul
and of other faithful preachers who preach not them-
selves, but Jesus Christ, just as thou seekest " not the
things that are thine but the things which are of Jesus
Christ." Wherefore, thou, also, shalt be greeted with
the consoling words, " Well done, thou good and faith-
ful servant ! because thou hast been faithful over a
few things, I will place thee over many things."

Joseph knew that his Egyptian master had entrusted
to his care both his house and all his goods. But he
also was well aware that there was one exception,
namely, his mistress ; and so he would not consent to
her solicitations. " Behold," he said to the temptress,
" my master hath delivered all things to me, neither
is there anything which is not given into my power, or
that he hath not delivered to me, but thee who art his
wife." For he was not ignorant that " the glory of the
man is the woman," and he considered that he would
be making a return of basest ingratitude should he

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 119

tarnish the glory of one who had rendered himself so
glorious. Being wise with the wisdom of God, he
reflected that husbands are extremely jealous of their
wives, as of their own honour, and are never willing to
entrust them to the care of any other than themselves.
Hence, he would not presume to stretch forth his hand
to what was not permitted him. What then? Shall
men be so sensitively jealous of their own glory, and
shall they yet dare to defraud God of His, as if He were
not also jealous ? But hear what He Himself says, " I
will not give My glory to another." What, then, O
Lord, what wilt Thou give us ? " Peace," He answers,
" I leave with you, My peace I give unto you." It
is enough for me. Thankfully do I receive what Thou,
O Lord, lea vest to me, and I leave to Thee what Thou
reservest to Thyself. This division is pleasing to me.
It is also, I doubt not, for my best interests. Glory I
renounce altogether, lest, perchance, whilst I usurp
what is not conceded, I justly forfeit even that which
has been bestowed. Peace I want, peace I desire,
and nothing more. He that is not satisfied with peace,
is not satisfied with Thee. For Thou art " our Peace
Who hath made both one." This is necessary for me,
this is sufficient for me, to be reconciled to Thee and
to be reconciled to myself. For since "Thou hast
made me opposite to Thee, I am become burdensome
to myself." I will be cautious henceforth neither to
appear ungrateful for the gift of peace bestowed, nor
a sacrilegious usurper of Thy divine glory. To Thee,
O Lord, to Thee, let Thy glory remain inviolate. As
for me, I shall be well content, if I can but preserve
that peace which Thou hast given me.

When peace was restored to Israel by the overthrow of

120 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Goliath, the people all participated in the joy, but David
alone was glorified. Josue, Jephte, Gedeon, Samson, even
Judith, though a woman, all in their day gloriously
triumphed over their enemies. But, whereas the whole
nation joyfully participated in the peace which they
won, none was associated with them in glory. Judas
Machabeus, also, distinguished himself by his numerous
victories. Yet , when, by fighting bravely, he repeatedly
brought peace to his exulting people, did he ever share
his glory with anyone ? " And then," we read, " there
was great— not glory but — joy amongst the people."
Wherein has the Creator of all fallen short of these,
that He also should not enjoy a singular, incommuni-
cable glory ? Alone He created all things, alone He
triumphed over His enemies, alone He redeemed the
captives, and shall He be otherwise than alone in His
gloiy ? " And My own arm," He says, " hath saved
for Me." Again, " I have trodden the wine-press alone,
and of the gentiles there is not a man with Me."
What share, then, can I have in the victory, since I
have had none in the combat ? It is, therefore, the
height of impudence in me to arrogate to myself either
glory without victory, or victory without a fight. But,
ye mountains, " receive peace for the people," receive
for yourselves * also peace, not glory : this you must
reserve to Him Who alone has both sustained the
conflict and achieved the victory. So, I pray, so let
it be. " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth
peace to men of good will." But he is evidently not a
man of good, but of evil will, who, not content with
peace, " with a haughty eye and an insatiable heart,"

* " Pacem suscipite vobis." Some readings have, " Pacem
suscipite nobis" — "receive peace for us." — (Translator.)

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 121

is impatiently covetous of the glory of God, and so
loses peace without compensating for its loss by the
acquisition of glory. Who would believe the wall
should it boast of having begotten the sunbeam which
it receives through the window ? Who would credit the
clouds did they claim the rain as their offspring ? To
me it is clear enough that, although imperceptible to
bodily sense, there must be some source other than the
aqueducts for the currents of water, some other source
for the words of wisdom besides the lips and teeth.

Whatever I behold in persons of sanctity, deserving of
commendation or admiration, on examining it by the
clear light of truth, I discover that there is One Who
is really praiseworthy and wonderful, and another who
appears so ; and I " praise God in His saints," whether
in Eliseus or in the great Elias, both resuscitators of
the dead. They indeed exhibit to our view things
strange and marvellous, yet not by their own power,
but as ministers of Another. It is God, dwelling in
them, " Who doth the works." Invisible and inacces-
sible in Himself, He is manifest and " wonderful in His
saints." He is alone wonderful " Who alone doth won-
derful things." The beautiful writing or drawing is
no merit of the pen's, neither can the tongue nor the lips
glory in the good word that proceeds from them. But
it is time that a prophet also should speak. " Shall
the axe boast itself," asks Isaias, " against him that
cutteth with it ? or shall the saw exalt itself against
him by whom it is drawn ? As if a rod should lift
itself up against him that lifteth it up, and a staff exalt
itself which is but wood, so against the Lord is every-
one that glorieth, if he glory not in the Lord." " If
I must glory," St. Paul teaches me whereof I must

122 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

glory and wherein. " This," he says, " is our glory,
the testimony of our conscience." Securely shall I
glory if, conscience being my witness, I arrogate to
myself none of the Creator's glory. Securely indeed,
because thus I shall glory not against, but in the Lord.
Such glorying is not only not forbidden us, but it is
even strongly commended in the words, " You receive
glory one from another, and the glory which is from
God alone you do not seek." And truly the grace to
glory in God alone can come from God alone. Nor
is this an insignificant glory, being as true as it is from
Truth, and so rare, in truth, that only the small number
of the perfect perfectly glory in it. Therefore, let the
" vain sons of men," " let the lying sons of men " go
and " by vanity deceive together." As for him who
wisely glories, he will prove his work and examine it
diligently by the light of truth. So shall he have glory
in himself, not in the mouth of another. I should be a
fool to lock up my glory in the coffer of men's lips so
that I should have to beg it of them whenever I wanted
it. For as it depends on their will whether to approve
or to censure me, so my glory or disgrace would be
equally in their power. But I keep my glory under
my own care. I myself with more fidelity shall guard
it for myself. Nay, not even to myself do I entrust it.
I rather deposit it with Him, Who " is able to keep
that which I have committed unto Him against that
dajV careful to preserve, faithful to restore. " Then
shall every man have (secure) praise from God," every
man, that is, who has despised human praise. For
changed to confusion shall be the glory of those who
relish only the things of earth, according to the testi-
mony of David, " God hath scattered the bones of them

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 123

that please men : they have been confounded because
God hath despised them."

My brethren, knowing this, none of you should
desire to be praised in this life, for you steal from God
whatever of glory you appropriate to yourselves,
without referring it to Him. What title, O filthy dust,
what title canst thou pretend to glory ? Is it sanctity
of life ? " But it is the Spirit That sanctifieth," not
surely thine, but the Spirit of God. And even wert
thou renowned for signs and wonders, still it is by the
divine power these are wrought, although by thy
agency. Or, perhaps, thou groundest thy claim on
thy possession of popular favour, because, perhaps,
thou utterest the " good word," and, perhaps, to some
advantage? But it is Christ Who has given thee " a
mouth and wisdom." For thy tongue — what is it but
" the pen of a scrivener " ? And such as it is, thou but
holdest it on loan. It is a talent entrusted to thee
and shall be demanded back with interest. If thou
be found zealous in the discharge of duty, and faithful
in handing over the profits, thou shalt receive the
reward of thy labours. Otherwise, thy talent shall be
taken from thee, and, nevertheless, the interest still
exacted, and thou shalt be accounted " a wicked
and slothful servant." Consequently, my brethren,
let all the glory arising from the gifts of the manifold
grace appearing in you, be referred to Him Who is
the Author and Giver of all things praiseworthy. But
let this be done not merely with the lips, as by hypo-
crites, nor solely from custom, as by worldlings, nor
yet out of necessity, as beasts are compelled to carry
their burdens, but as becomes saints, with trustful
simplicity, with fervent devotion, with a happy, yet

124 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

modest and reserved cheerfulness. Accordingly, whilst
offering up " the sacrifice of praise," and " paying our
vows" from day to day, let us be careful with all
vigilance to unite attention with usage, affection with
attention, joy with affection, reverence with joy,
humility with reverence, and with humility liberty of
spirit. So shall we sometimes find ourselves moving
forward towards the goal with the easy steps of a puri-
fied mind, making excursions out of ourselves through
the extraordinary intensity of our affections and
spiritual raptures, experienced in transports of joy, in
the light of God, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost ; and
thus shall we prove ourselves to be included in the
number of those whom the Prophet David addressed
when he said, " They shall walk, O Lord, in the light
of Thy Countenance, and in Thy name they shall rejoice
all the day, and in Thy justice they shall be exalted."
Perchance it may here be said to me, " Thou dost
well to admonish us, yet thy words should not be irre-
levant to thy theme." But have patience a little.
I have not lost sight of my subject. Have I not taken
upon myself to expound the text, "Thy name is as
oil poured out " ? This is the task I have set myself,
this the work I have undertaken.* And it is for you to
judge whether my remarks have been altogether beside
the purpose or not. For my part, I will try to show you
in a few words that I have not wandered far from my
way. Do you not recollect that the last thing com-
mended in connexion with the breasts of the Spouse
was the delicious odour of their ointments? What,
then, more seasonable than to remind the Spouse that

* " Hoc opus, hie labor est." Evidently a reminiscence of the
Virgilian " Hie opus, hie labor est "— JSn. VI. 129.— (Translator.)

GLORY BELONGS TO GOD ALONE 125

she owes this fragrance to the bounty of her Beloved,
lest she should be tempted to ascribe it to herself ?
And this, as you can see, has been the drift of all my
apparently wandering remarks. " The sweet odour
and the delights of my breasts," we may fancy the
Spouse saying, " I attribute neither to my own efforts
nor merits, but to Thy munificence, O my Beloved ; all
is due to the perfume of Thy name which is as oil poured
out upon me." Thus is apparent the connexion of my
present text with that of my last discourse, as also the
relevancy of what I have been saying.

But the full exposition of this text, whence I took

occasion to speak at such great length on the most

detestable vice of ingratitude, must be reserved for

another time and another sermon. For the present let

it suffice to have reminded you that, if even the Spouse

dares not appropriate to herself anything whatever

of her virtues and graces, how much less should we

presume to do so, who are but the " handmaidens " ?

Let us, therefore, my brethren, let us also exclaim,

following the example of the Spouse, " Not to us, O

Lord, not to us, but to Thy name give glory." And let

us say this, not merely in words and with our tongues,

' but in deed and in truth." Otherwise, of us, too, it

shall be said, what I fear exceedingly, " And they

loved Him with their mouth, and with their tongue they

lied unto Him. But their heart was not right with

Him, nor were they counted faithful in His covenant."

Let us, then, cry aloud, but as well in the depths of

our hearts as with the lips of our mouths, let us ciy,

I repeat, " Save us, O Lord, our God, and gather us

from among the nations, that we may give thanks to

Thy holy name — not to our own names — and may glory

— not in our but — in Thy praise," for evermore. Amen.

SERMON XIV
The Church and the Synagogue.

" Thy name is as oil poured out.*'

" In Judaea God is known : His name is great in
Israel." " The (Gentile) people that walked in dark-
ness have seen a great Light." That is, they saw the
Light which shone in Judaea and in Israel, and they
desired to " draw near and to be illuminated," so that
they who " in times past were not a people might now
be a people of God," and that for the future, " their
place might be in peace," the one Corner-Stone uniting
in Itself the two walls approaching from different
directions. They derived confidence from the words of
invitation which had alread}' been spoken by the Holy
Ghost through the Psalmist, " Rejoice, ye nations,
with His people." Therefore, they wished to draw
near ; but the Synagogue forbade it, declaring that
the Church of the Gentiles was unclean and unworthy,
reproaching it with the filth of idolatry and with the
blindness of ignorance. " On what merit dost thou
presume ? " asks the Jew ; " Touch me not ! " " But
why ? " replies the Gentile. " Is He the God of the
Jews only ? Is He not also the God of the Gentiles ?
And if I am wanting in merit, He is not wanting in
compassion. Is justice His only attribute ? Nay, He is
also merciful. O Lord, 4 let Thy tender mercies come
unto me and I shall live.' ' Many, O Lord, are Thy

mercies ! Quicken me according to Thy judgment/

126

THE CHURCH AND THE SYNAGOGUE 127

which is tempered with mercy." What will He do,
the just and merciful Lord, whilst the Jew thus glories
in the Law, applauds his own justice, disclaims any
need of mercy, and despises such as confess this need ;
and the Gentile, on the contrary, acknowledging his
sin, avows his unworthiness, deprecates justice, and
appeals to mercy ? What, I ask, will He do, the Judge ,
and such a Judge, in Whom judgment and compassion
are both so inherent that the one is as inseparable from
Him as the other ? What can be more natural and
reasonable for Him to do than to give to each of them
that which he prayed for — judgment to the Jew and
mercy to the Gentile? The Jew asks for judgment,
well, then, let him have it. But let the Gentile, ac-
cording to his prayer, glorify the mercy of God. And
the judgment granted to the Jew is this, that he who
contemns the compassionate justice of God, and wishes
to establish his own — which, in truth, rather accuses
than justifies — shall be abandoned to the oppression,
not to the justification, of his own righteousness.

This Jewish justice comes from the Law, which has
never conducted anyone to perfection. It is a yoke
which neither the Jews " nor their fathers have ever been
able to bear." But the Synagogue is strong. She has
no liking for burdens that are light or for yokes that
are sweet. The Jew is well, and has no need of the
Physician, no need of the unction of the Spirit. " He
trusted in " the Law : "let it now deliver him," if it
can. But the Law which was given him has not the
power to vivify. It rather kills, according to the
Apostle, who says, " the letter killeth." The same is
implied in the words of Christ, "Therefore I say
unto you, you shall die in your sins." This, then, O

128 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Synagogue, is the judgment thou hast challenged on
thy error. Blinded shalt thou be left, blinded and per-
tinacious, " until the fulness of the Gentiles — whom
thou dost arrogantly contemn and enviously repel —
shall come in," and shall acknowledge the " God Who
is known in Judaea " and the name that is " great in
Israel." It was lor this judgment Jesus " came
into this world, that they who see not may see, and
that they who see may become blind. " Yet
this " blindness hath happened in Israel in part "
only, "for the Lord will not cast off His people"
entirely. He will " reserve unto Himself as a
seed " the apostles and the " multitude of believers
who had but one heart and one soul." Neither
" will He cast them off for ever," but will " save a
remnant." Once more will He " receive Israel, His
servant," and He will be " mindful of His mercy." So
that not even in regard to them, in whom she now finds
no room for herself, shall mercy desert her companion,
justice. Did God treat the Jew as he deserved, assuredly
there would be "judgment without mercy to him who
doth not mercy." For Judaea, possessing much of the oil
of the knowledge of God, like a miser, keeps it shut
up in the vase. I, the Gentile, beg for some, and she
neither " hath mercy nor lendeth." She alone must
have worship, she alone must have knowledge, she
alone must know " His great name." Nor is this desire
for monopoly due to any zeal for her own glory, but
rather to jealousy of me.

Therefore, do Thou, O Lord, " judge my judgment,"
and let Thy great name be magnified still more, and
let the oil, which is already plentiful, be more abund-
antly multiplied. Let it increase, let it brim over, let

THE CHURCH AND THE SYNAGOGUE 129

it be poured abroad, let it overflow to the Gentiles, and
let "all flesh" experience "the salvation of God."
How can it be, as the ungrateful Jew would have it,
that all the saving unction should remain in " the
beard of Aaron" ? It belongs not to the beard, but to
the Head. And the Head is head, not only of the beard,
but of the whole body as well. Let the beard receive
the descending ointment first by all means, but not
solely. Let it transmit to the inferior members what
it derives from the Head. Let the heavenly oil descend ,
let it descend even to the breasts of the Church, which,
with a hungry eagerness, does not disdain to squeeze it
from the beard, until, saturated with the dew of grace,
she joyously exclaims, to prove herself not ungrateful,
" Thy name is as oil poured out." But let it, I pray,
descend even lower, let it trickle down as far as " the
skirt of his garment," that is, even unto me, who,
though the lowest and the most unworthy of all, still am
of " the garment." For even I, as " a little one in
Christ," demand for myself, on the title of piety, a
share of that oil from the breasts of mother Church,
And should any man murmur, whose " eye is evil
because the Lord is good," do Thou, O Lord, answer
for me. " Let my judgment come forth from Thy
Countenance," and not from Israel's haughty lips.
Rather I should say, " answer for Thyself," and say
to Thy calumniator — for he calumniates Thee because
Thou dost benefit one so undeserving — say to him,
therefore, " I will also give to this last even as to thee."
The Pharisee is displeased. Yet why should he grumble ?
My title is the Judge's good will. Surely there can be
no juster standard of merit, as certainly there can
be no more generous measure of reward. "Or is it

130 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

not lawful for Him to do what He willeth," in regard
to that which is His own ? It is a mercy to me, but
no wrong to thee. " Take what is thine, and go thy
way." If it is His good pleasure to save even me, what
dost thou lose thereby ?

Magnify thy merits as much as thou pleasest, and
make much of thy labours. But " the mercy of the
Lord is better than lives." I confess, I have not " borne
£}ie burden of the day and the heat." I am oaly bear-
}®&* according to the will of the Father of the family,
f31aif$weet yoke " and a " light burden." I have been
fttoWOjfcscarcely an nour * or> ^ longer, I have not felt
jftoftfpftgfy/ excess of love. Let the Jew prove his own
,stflen|#]|M; A§ for me, I prefer to " prove what is the
gpo^j, $.n$tja# acceptable, and the perfect will of God."
itfpmifc 'iGinflfJcfr^od all that has been lost to me in
w^)p& a#$ fcimfl. nTJie Jew relies on the articles of a
fey^aj^agjje^m^jfj^fijthe good pleasure of the Divine
WiBfio'oliMigve a^idjit/S^all not be reputed unto folly
%P,Vmiq fer $be?e.>#j"&fe/tj$ His good will." It will
rflQenffi^fljme tfee^t^gr^ will restore to me the
in^er&ai^Lhav^fl^ a more plentiful

gP^fcf/Kidfl wjll rft4f5d1o5ne jfe,90a participation in the
if&ifcty® {£q\Tgh\s0$$$ jthe^d^elo^ music, and the
§W_e#t ^ip^p&f &&<$ottm higi^ea&gi&fif. God's exulting
f^ifer, if m^'d^^i Uv&wf ^^mjo^ Jew> be
w^Jm^wifr^m^^ rathko^f^fute^ " with

WMmd^mt^Al^foe&ia^ifi^A vf^me in
hfefSfer*^jS Ap^9eJie,isjjaft s^q^ifti^/apsw^^.jiis

te&f §-fm™( : jte^K»% io# t%n4xjs %i^4^ri ^u.j4p^sfti

SFoegf^e fea^trputs^e <mth>slw Atift^^fam1^

THE CHURCH AND THE SYNAGOGUE 131

who are well pleased to see her in her folly voraciously
gorging herself with the kid of sin, and, in a manner,
concealing and stowing it away in the stomach of her
ignorance and stupidity. Meantime, despising the
justice of God and anxious to establish her own, she
proclaims that she has no sin, nor any need that the
Fatted Calf, that is, Christ, should be slain for her
sake ; since, as she fancies, she has been cleansed and
justified by the works of the Law. But now when the
veil of the " letter that killeth " has been rent by the
death of the crucified Word, the Church, under the
impulse of the Spirit of liberty, rushes boldly into
the sanctuary, into the holy of holies, obtains recog-
nition from the Bridegroom, finds favour in His eyes,
is given the place of her rival, becomes a Spouse, and
supplants the Synagogue in the affection and embraces
of the Beloved. Then, in fervour of spirit, clinging
and closely united to Christ the Lord, Who distils and
pours all over her " the oil of His gladness," in a measure
greater than is given to " her fellows," she exclaims,
" Thy name is as oil poured out." What wonder if
she is anointed who clasps the " Anointed of the Lord " ?
The Church, then, reposes inside, but as yet only
the Church of the perfect. However, even for us there
is hope. Therefore, " rejoicing in hope," let us, who are
still imperfect, keep watch before the doors. Let none
as yet lodge within, save the Bridegroom and His Bride,
that they may enjoy their secret and mutual embraces,
undisturbed by any clamour of carnal passions, by any
tumult of sensible images. But let the throng of " young
damsels" who cannot yet be free from such interior
perturbations, abide without. Let them keep an eye
on the door. Let them watch in confidence, knowing

i32 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

that to themselves is addressed what they read, " After
her shall virgins be brought to the King, her neighbours
shall be brought to Thee." And that each may know
" of what spirit he is," by virgins I mean those souls
which, betrothed to Christ before they could be denied
by contact with the world, have persevered in fidelity
to Him Whose spouses they became all the more hap-
pily the more early. The " neighbours " or " damsels "
are they who were once " conformed to this world," who
abandoned themselves to "the princes of this world,"
viz., to the foul demons, unto every kind of uncleanness,
but who now, ashamed of the past, and putting on the
likeness of the new man, are striving, with only the
more diligence because so late, to purify themselves
from the stains of their former sinfulness. Let both
virgins and damsels go forward. Let them yield neither
to faintness nor to fatigue, although they do not yet
experience in themselves that feeling which would cause
them also to exclaim with the Spouse, " Thy name is
as oil poured out." For such young persons have not
the courage to speak directly to the Bridegroom. Yet if
they are only faithful in following the footsteps of their
mistress, the Bride, they shall be permitted to enjoy at
least the odour of the oil, and thus shall be stimulated
to desire and to solicit still more precious favours.

I am not ashamed, my brethren, to acknowledge that
I myself very often, and particularly in the beginning
of my conversion, used to seek with a hard and frozen
heart Him Whom my soul wished to love. For I could
not yet love Him Who as yet had not been found. Or,
at any rate, I could not love Him as much as I desired ;
and for this reason I sought Him, in order to love Him
more, Whom certainly I should not have sought at all

THE CHURCH AND THE SYNAGOGUE 133

unless I already loved Him in some degree. Whilst,
then, I sought Him in Whom my cold and languid
spirit might find warmth and repose, nowhere did I
meet anyone who could help me by dissolving the
stiffening frost which held my interior faculties in bond-
age, and by restoring the pleasant spring of spiritual
joy. Thus my soul grew daily more languid, and weary,
and inert. Filled with disgust, I became sad almost
to despair, and muttered within myself, " Who shall
stand before the face of His cold ? " Until on a sudden,
perhaps at the word, perhaps at the sight of some
spiritual and perfect man, occasionally even at the
thought of one dead or absent, " the winds blew and
the waters ran," and " my tears were my bread day
and night/' What is this but the odour exhaling from
the unguent wherewith such a one was anointed ? It
could not be the ointment itself, inasmuch as it reached
me only through a human medium. Hence, whilst re-
joicing in the favour, I felt at the same time confounded
and humiliated, because it was only a slight breath of
the perfume, and not a bountiful unction that was
vouchsafed me. My sense of smell was gratified, but
not my sense of touch. I therefore knew that I was too
unworthy for God to manifest His sweetness to me
immediately. And if the same thing should happen
again, I would indeed eagerly accept the favour be-
stowed and feel duly grateful. But grieving I should
grieve that I had not deserved to receive it from God
directly and, as the saying is, from hand to hand,
though this I earnestly implored. I feel ashamed to
be more affected at the thought of a man than at the
thought of God. And then I cry out with tears, " When
shall I come and appear before the face of God f" I
suppose some of yourselves have had the same experi-

134 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

ence, and have it sometimes still. Herein what are we
to understand except that either our pride is being
humbled, or our humility protected, or fraternal charity
fostered, or holy desires enkindled ? One and the same
thing is medicine for the sick and food for the con-
valescent ; it gives strength to the weak and pleasure
to the strong. One and the same food cures our dis-
tempers and preserves our health. It nourishes the
body whilst pleasing the palate.

We must now go back to the words of the Spouse.
But let us so hasten to hear what she says that we
may also endeavour to understand her wisdom. This
Spouse, as I have remarked already, is the Church.
She it is to whom " much hath been forgiven because
she loveth much." The reproaches addressed to her
by her rival, even these she has turned to her advan-
tage. Thus she has become more docile under correc-
tion, more patient in labour, more ardent in love, more
prudent in self-restraint, more humble for the con-
sciousness of her failings, more acceptable for her
modesty, more prompt in obedience, more devout and
fervent in returning thanks. And whilst the Syna-
gogue, as has been said, murmurs and talks of her
merits, and her labours, and " the burden of the day
and the heat," the Church is only mindful of the divine
munificence, saying, " His name is as oil poured out."

This surely '■' is the testimony of Israel to praise the
name of the Lord." Not, indeed, of Israel " according
to the flesh," but of Israel "according to the spirit. "
For how could the carnal Israel speak in that way ?
Not that he lacks oil, but he has not his " oil poured
out." Oil he has, but he keeps it concealed ; he keeps
it in his law-books rather than in his heart. He clings
to the rind of the letter. He holds in his clutch a full

THE CHURCH AND THE SYNAGOGUE 135

vase. But it is sealed and he refuses to open it, even
to anoint himself. O Israel, the spiritual unction is
within, it is in the interior. Open and anoint thyself,
and be no longer " a provoking house." Where is the
use of having oil in thy vessels unless thou f eelest it also
on thy members ? What avails it to read and re-read
the sweet name of the Saviour in thy books if the
sweetness of His love and service has no place in thy
life ? His name is oil. Only pour it out and thou shalt
experience its virtue, which is threefold. But since the
Jew despises my appeal, do you, my brethren, -attend.
I want to tell you what I have not yet explained, viz.,
why the name of the Beloved is compared to oil. There
are, as far as I can see, three reasons. And forasmuch
as He is called by many names, because none that is
adequate can be found (He being ineffable) we have
first to invoke the Holy Spirit that He would deign to
reveal to us that one name out of the many, which He
wishes to be understood in this place ; for it has not
been His good pleasure to consign it to writing. But
this must await another discourse. For even if I had
now the necessary knowledge, and neither you were
burdened nor I fatigued, the lateness of the hour would
still compel me to finish. Hold fast what I have to-day
invited your attention to, so that to-morrow there may
be no necessity to repeat. This is my purpose, this the
task I am undertaking, namely, to show you why the
Beloved's name is compared to oil, and which one of
His names. And seeing that I cannot say anything of
myself, I exhort you to pray that " a mouth and
wisdom " may be given me, through His Spirit, by the
Bridegroom, Jesus Chiist, Our Lord, to Whom be honour
and glory for ever. Amen.

SERMON XV
On the Names of God, and the Name of Jesus.

" Thy name is as oil poured out"

" The Spirit of wisdom is benevolent." He is not
accustomed to make Himself difficult of access to
those who invoke Him. Often even before we call
upon Him, He says, " Behold, I am here." Listen,
then, to the inspirations which, at your prayer and
for your sakes, He has been pleased to favour me
with, concerning those questions postponed from
yesterday until the present ; and reap the seasonable
fruits of your own intercession. Behold, I am going
to tell you the name which is rightly compared to oil,
and to explain for what reason. We find many names
of the Bridegroom scattered through the inspired pages.
I will reduce them all to two. You will discover none,
as I think, which does not signify either the riches of
His mercy, or the power of His majesty. So speaks
the Holy Ghost through one of His most familiar
organs, that is, through David, " These two things
have I heard, that power belongeth to God and mercy
to Thee, O Lord." We find it written with regard to
His majesty, " Holy and terrible is His name," and with
respect to His mercy, " There is no other name under
heaven given to men, whereby we must be saved."
Further testimonies will confirm what I say. " And
this," says Jeremias, " is the name that they shall
call Him, the Lord, our Just One " — which is a name of

136

ON THE NAMES OF GOD 137

power or majesty. According to Isaias, " His name
shall be called Emmanuel " — a name of mercy. Again
Christ says of Himself, " You call me Master and Lord."
The former is a name of mercy, the latter of majesty.
I say Master is a name of mercy, for it is as much an
exercise of mercy to impart knowledge to the mind as
to supply food to the body. Again Isaias tells us,
" His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, God
the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince
of Peace." Of these titles the first, third, and fourth
are expressive of majesty, the others of mercy. Which
then, is the name " as oil poured out " ? Evidently,
the name of majesty and power is transfused in a
manner into that of mercy and grace, and the result,
which is, so to speak, an amalgam of all, abundantly
poured out in Jesus Christ Our Saviour. Is not the
name " God," for instance, merged and transfused into
that of " God-with-us," that is, into " Emmanuel " ?
So is " Admirable " into " Counsellor." So is " God
the Mighty" into the titles " Father of the world to
come," and " Prince of Peace." So is " The Lord our
Just One " into " Compassionate and merciful Lord."
In this I am speaking of nothing new. In olden times
[the names Abram and Sarai were similarly merged and
transfused into Abraham and Sara, respectively ; and
so we recognise that even then the mystery of this
salutary effusion was celebrated and foreshadowed.

Where now is that awful " I am the Lord ! I am
the Lord!" which, spoken with a voice of thunder,
used to resound with equal terror and frequency in the
ears of the ancients ? I have a prayer, dictated to me
by Christ, the beginning of which, sweetened with the
name of Father, guarantees a favourable hearing for

138 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the petitions which follow. Servants are called friends.
And it is not to disciples, but to His " brethren " the
Saviour's Resurrection is announced. No wonder that,
" when the fulness of time was come," a pouring out
of the holy name took place, God fulfilling what He
promised by the mouth of Joel, and pouring out of His
Spirit upon all flesh. No wonder, I say, since I read
of something similar having occurred even amongst the
Hebrews of old. I suppose your thoughts anticipate
my words, and that you already guess what I am about
to say. What, I ask, was the meaning of the name
" I am Who am," and " He Who is hath sent me to
you," first given in answer to the question of Moses ?
It is doubtful if even Moses himself could have under-
stood that name had it not been poured out. But it
was fused and poured and so comprehended. And not
only poured, but even poured out, for already it had
been poured in or infused * ; already it was possessed
by the inhabitants of heaven ; already it had become
familiar to the angels. But now it was dispersed abroad.
It had been communicated by infusion to the celestial
spirits in such a manner that they held it as an intimate
possession. It was now poured out even upon men,
so that, if the hateful wilfulness of an ungrateful people
did not hinder it, the thankful cry, " Thy name is as

* " Sed fusum est et captum, nee modo fusum sed et effusum
quia jam infusum." The play upon words here is absolutely
untranslatable. The holy Preacher appears to consider the
great name of God as a solid substance, that requires to be
fused or melted down before it can be contained in the small
and frail vessel of created intelligence. After fusion, viz., in a
manner suited to a finite capacity, it was poured in or infused
into the angelic mind, whence later, at the Burning Bush, it
was poured out to Moses, and through him to the human race. —
(Translator.)

ON THE NAMES OF GOD I3Q

oil poured out," would have gone up to God from the
universal earth. For he says Himself, " I am the God
of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."
Run, ye nations ! Salvation is at hand. That name
has been poured out, which whosoever shall invoke
shall be saved. The God of angels calls Himself the
God of men, also ! He hath poured oil upon Jacob, and
caused it to fall upon Israel. Say to your brothers,
" Give us of your oil." Should they refuse, then pray
the Lord of the oil Himself to pour it out upon you.
Say to Him, " O Lord, ' Take away our reproach.' Do
not, we implore Thee, permit the malevolent one, viz.,
Satan, to insult Thy beloved one, whom Thou hast
been pleased to call to Thee from the ends of the earth,
by a condescension proportionate to her unworthiness.
Is it fitting, I ask, that a wicked servant should exclude
those whom the gracious Father of the family hath
invited ? ' I am,' Thou sayest, ' the God of Abraham,
and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.' But is
it of these only? Pour out, oh, pour out Thy name
still wider ! Still more generously ' open Thy hand and
fill every animal with blessing.' Let them ' come from
the east and the west, and sit down with Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven.' 'Let
them come, let them come, the tribes, the tribes of
the Lord ; the testimony of Israel to praise the name
of the Lord.' Let them come, and sit down, and feast,
and be filled with gladness. Let but this one song re-
echo everywhere, ' Thy name is as oil poured out,' ' with
the voice of joy and praise, the noise of one feasting.' "
One thing, my brethren, I feel sure of, namely, that, if
Philip and Andrew be the porters, we shall never meet
with a repulse when we go begging for oil, when we

140 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

want to see Jesus. As of old, Philip will immediately
speak to Andrew, and both Philip and Andrew will
speak to Jesus. But what will Jesus answer ? Doubt-
less the same which He spoke once before, " Unless the
grain of wheat, falling into the ground, dieth, itself
remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much
fruit." Therefore, let the Divine Grain die that the
crop of the gentiles may spring up. For " thus it
behoveth Christ to suffer, and to rise again from the
dead, and that penance and remission of sins should be
preached in His name," not alone in Judaea, but
throughout all nations ; so that from the one name of
Christ, countless millions of believers should be called
Christians, and should exclaim in chorus, " Thy name
is as oil poured out."

In this, that is, in the name of Christ, I recognise the
name which we read of in the Prophet Isaias, " He
shall call His servants by another name, in which he,
that is blest upon the earth, shall be blessed in God,
amen." O name of benediction ! O oil everywhere
poured out ! Do you ask how widely it has been poured
out ? From heaven it overflowed to Judaea, and from
Judaea through the world at large, so that from the
whole earth the Church sends up the wondering cry,
" Thy name is as oil poured out." " Poured out "
in truth, since not only has it overrun heaven and earth
but even the dwellers beneath the earth have been
sprinkled therewith, " that in the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth
and under the earth and that every tongue should
confess " and should say, " Thy name is as oil poured
out." Behold the name of Christ ! Behold the name
of Jesus! Both were infused into the angels. Both

ON THE NAMES OF GOD 141

were effused upon men, upon those men, who like
beasts, " had rotted in their filth," and they, these holy
names, " saved men and beasts, as God hath multiplied
His mercy." How precious this name, this oil ! Yet
how cheap, too. How cheap, and yet how salutary!
Were it not cheap, it would not be poured out for one
like me. Were it not salutary, it could not have saved
me. I participate in the name ; I participate also in
the inheritance. I am a Christian ; I am, therefore,
the brother of Christ. If I am really what I am called,
I am " the heir of God and a co-heir with Christ ." And
what wonder is it that the name of the Bridegroom is
thus poured out, since He has poured out even Himself ?
For, "He emptied Himself, taking the form of a ser-
vant." And the Psalmist says, speaking in His name,
" I am poured out as water." The fulness of the
Divinity, whilst dwelling corporally on earth, was
poured out, so that all of us, who live in the flesh,
might receive of that fulness, and, recreated with
its life-giving odour, might exclaim, " Thy name
is as oil poured out." You now understand what
name has been poured out, and how, and to what
extent.

But wherefore is it compared to oil ? This I have
not yet explained. I was beginning to do so in the
preceding discourse, when something suddenly occurred
to me which I thought necessary to premise. The
digression has been more lengthy than I anticipated,
for no other reason, as I think, than because Wisdom,
" the valiant woman, hath put out her hand " to the
distaff, " and her fingers have taken hold of the spindle."
Well she knew how to draw out into a long thread my
scanty stock of wool or flax, and to stretch it to the

142 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

breadth of the loom, so that " all her domestics might be
clothed with double garments." There is, doubtless,
a striking analogy between oil and the name of the
Beloved, nor is the comparison made by the Holy
Spirit quite an arbitrary one. Unless you can suggest
something better, I will say that the name of Jesus
bears resemblance to oil in the threefold use to which
the latter lends itself, namely, for lighting, for food, and
for healing. It feeds the flame, it nourishes the flesh,
it soothes pain. It is light, and food, and medicine.
Consider now how the same properties belong to the
Bridegroom's name. When preached, it gives light ;
when meditated, it nourishes ; when invoked, it soothes
and softens. But let us examine each point in detail.
Whence, think you, that great light of faith, and as
sudden as great, throughout the whole world, except
from the preaching of the name of Jesus ? Was it not
by the refulgence of this name that God called us " into
His marvellous light," to whom thus illuminated, and
contemplating the Light by this light, St. Paul truly
says, " You were heretofore darkness, but now light
in the Lord " ? This is the name which the same
Apostle was charged to " carry before the gentiles, and
kings, and the children of Israel." He bore this name
about as a lamp. With it he illuminated his native land,
crying out everywhere, " The night is passed, and the
day is at hand. Let us, therefore, cast off the works
of darkness, and put on the armour of light. Let us
walk honestly as in the day." And he directed the gaze
of all to the Candle * on the Candlestick, by everywhere

* " Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel,
but upon a candlestick that it may shine to all that are in the
house " (Matt. v. 15). St. Bernard appears to be the only writer
who has applied these words to the Crucified, " the Light of the

ON THE NAMES OF GOD 143

preaching " Jesus and Him crucified." Oh, with what
splendour this light shone forth and dazzled the eyes
of all beholders, when, flashing like the lightmng flame
from Peter's mouth, it strengthened the corporeal
" feet and soles " of one person physically lame, and
enlightened the eyes of many others, who were spiri-
tually blind I Surely it glittered with fiery scintilla-
tions when the same Peter pronounced the words
" In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, arise and

walk." , .... T. .

But the name of Jesus is not merely light. tt is
food as well. Do you not, my brethren, experience an
increase of strength as often as you recall it ? What
can so enrich the soul that reflects upon it ? What
can so reinvigorate the weary mind, fortify the virtues,
engender good and honourable dispositions, foster holy
affections ? Dry is every kind of spiritual food, which
this oil does not moisten. Insipid, whatever this salt
does not season. If thou write*, thy composition has
no charms for me, unless I read there the name of Jesus.
Ifthoudisputestorconversest, I find no pleasure in thy
words, unless I hear there the name of Jesus. Jesus
is honey in the mouth, melody in the ear, jubilation

in the heart.*

Yet not alone is that name light and food. It is
also medicine. Is any amongst you sad ? Let the
name of Jesus enter his heart ; let it leap thence to

World." Yet surely the application is as obvious as it is beau-
tifu . It is in the same sense that St Augustme speaks o the
Cross as the Master's chair, "Cathedra Chnst: But the
metaphor of the candle and candlestick seems to be much
more felicitous.— (Translator.) .

-Jesus mel in ore, in aure melos in corde jub nns. Com
pare with stanza 22 of the beautiful hymn, "JnbUns Rythm.cus

I44 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

his mouth; and lo ! the light that radiates from that
name shall scatter every cloud and restore tranquilly
Has some one perpetrated a crime, and, moreover'
abandomng hope, is rushing in desperation towards <<Ihe
snare of death; ? Let him but invoke this vhk £j
name, and stra.ghtway he shall experience a renewal of
courage, and a revival of confidence. What hardnes
of heart common as it is with some, what torpidity o
sloth, what rancour of spirit, what weariness ofSus
has ever been able to resist the potent influence of fh
all-saving name ? What exhausted fountain of devo
tional tears has not, at the invocation of the name of
Jesus, sent forth a fuller and a sweeter flood ? Who ever
when trembling with terror in the presence oTdanger'
has not .mmediately felt his spirits revive and his firs'
departs as soon as he called upon this name of powTr i
Who ever, agdated and buffeted by the billows of
doubt, has not perceived his mind to be suddenlv
dlummated with the clear light of certitude, the mome*
he invoked this illustrious name ? Who eve^Tver
whelmed by misfortune, and already on the point 0f
succumbing has not been strengthened in m^by an
■nfus.on of forftude when he pronounced this helpful
de Nomine Jesu," used by the Church for the Feast of the Ho.y

" Jesu decus angelicum,
In aure dulce canticum,
In ore mel mirificum,
In corde nectar coelicum.'

Even apart from the testimony of a constant tradition «.
close resemblance in lan^o,-^ ^ «* ^uu&canx tradition, the

this sermrlnd the « S ™? ^^ betwee* Part* of

doubting thametwn hi < "* US Very Iittle roon* *»

» nig Ladi tne two have come from the same anthnr ev

ON THE NAMES OF GOD 145

name ? For this name is the sovereign remedy for all
those various maladies and languors of the soul. By
using it thus we may test the truth of the promise,
" Call upon me in the day of trouble ; I will deliver thee
and thou shalt glorify Me." There is nothing so effica-
cious as the name of Jesus for restraining the violence
of anger, depressing the swellings of pride, healing the
smarting wound of envy, curbing the passions of the
flesh, extinguishing the fire of concupiscence, temper-
ing the thirst of avarice, and banishing every unlawful
desire. For when I name the name Jesus, I call to mind
a Man Who is "meek and humble of Heart/' Who is kind,
sober, chaste, and merciful, and perfect in all goodness
and sanctity, and Who is, at the same time, the great
Almighty God, Who restores me to health by His
example, and strengthens me by His help. All this
sounds in my ear whenever I hear the name of Jesus.
I find models for my imitation in His Humanity, and
assistance to copy them in His Omnipotence. The
examples of His mortal life I use as medicinal herbs
which I prepare with the assistance of His divine power,
and so make for myself an efficacious restorative such
as no human physician can compound.

Such an electuary, O my soul, thou canst find stored
up in the little vessel of the name Jesus. So salutary
is it, that it shall never prove ineffectual against any
spiritual ailment whatsoever. Keep it always in thy
bosom, keep it ever in thy hand, so that every thought
and act of thine may be directed to Jesus. He Himself
invites thee to this in the words, " Put Me as a seal upon
thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm.,, But of this later.
Now I merely indicate where thou canst discover a
medicine for thy arm and a medicine for thy heart.

L K

146 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Thou hast, I say, in the name of Jesus, the means of
correcting thy evil actions and of making perfect such
as are deficient in goodness. Therein, also, shalt thou
find the means of preserving thy affections incor-
rupt, or of purifying them from defilement already
contracted.

Amongst the children of Judaea there have been
several others called Jesus, and she glories in the empty
name. For, as belonging to these, that name is empty,
since it yields neither light, nor food, nor medicine.
Therefore does the Synagogue abide in darkness, even
till now, oppressed with hunger and infirmity. And
so must she remain without healing or satiety, until
she shall acknowledge that it is this my Jesus " Who
ruleth Jacob and all the ends of the earth," and until
her sons " shall return at evening, and shall suffer
hunger like dogs, and shall go round about the city."
Those other Jews who bore the name of Jesus were sent
on before, as of old the staff preceded the Prophet
Eliseus to the corpse of the child of the Sunamitess.
Hence, in their case, the name was nothing more than a
shadow, for it was not interpreted by their lives. The
staff was laid on the body, but produced neither life
nor feeling, because it was only a staff. Then He came
down Who had sent the staff, and immediately saved
His people from their sins, thus deserving that it
should be said of Him, " Who is this that also forgiveth
sins ? " For He is the Same Who said, " I am the
salvation of the people." Now there is life, now there
is feeling. So it is manifest that this Jesus of ours does
not bear an empty name as did His types. There is a
feeling of health infused, and the favour is not con-
cealed in silence. Within is the awakening of life,

ON THE NAMES OF GOD 147

without the voice of acknowledgment. I feel contrition,
I confess my sins, and confession is evidence of life in
me, since " Confession * perish eth from the dead as
nothing." Behold life and feeling ! I am completely
resuscitated, my resurrection is perfect. What is
the death of the body but the privation of life and
feeling ? Sin, which is the death of the soul, had left
me neither the feeling of compunction nor the voice
of confession, and hence I was dead. Then came He
Who forgives sins, restoring both life and feeling, and
saying to my soul, " I am thy salvation." What
wonder that death should yield place where Life enters ?
Now " with the heart we believe unto justice, and
with the mouth confession is made unto salvation."
Already the " child gapes," and he " gapes seven times,"
and he says, " Seven times a day I have given praise
to Thee," O Lord. Mark well this number seven, for
it is a sacred number, and here is not without its signi-
ficance. But it is better to postpone this to another
day when, not fastidious, but with keen appetites,
we shall take our places at a good table, at the invita-
tion of the Bridegroom of the Church, Our Lord Jesus
Christ, Who is over all things, God, blessed for ever.
Amen.

* " A mortuo tamquam qui non est periit confessio." It is
clear from the context that " confessio " in this place, as often
elsewhere in Scripture, means, not confession of sin, but ac-
knowledgment of favour, hence praise. The Saint is, therefore,
not so much interpreting, as adapting the verse to his purpose.
— (Translator.)

SERMON XVI
On the Mystical Sense of the Number Seven.

" Thy name is as oil poured out."

What, my brethren, is the mystical significance of the
number seven occurring in the account of the resusci-
tation * of the child by Eliseus ? I do not believe that
any of you is so simple as to suppose it to be without
some special design and due, as it were, to chance, that
the gaping was sevenfold. Nor do I consider that it
was without meaning that the Prophet, lying upon
the corpse, contracted himself to the dimensions of
the child's body, " and put his mouth upon his mouth,
and his eyes upon his eyes, and his hands upon his
hands." It is the Holy Ghost Who caused all these
things to be so done and recorded, for the enlighten-
ment, no doubt, of those human spirits of ours, which
are led astray by the treacherous companionship of a
corruptible body, and instructed in folly by the foolish
wisdom of this world. " For the corruptible body," so
we read in Wisdom, " is a load upon the soul, and the
earthly habitation presseth down the mind that museth
upon many things." Consequently, no one ought to be
surprised or impatient if I appear to examine curiously
these storehouses of the Holy Spirit, so to call such

* " And he (Eliseus) went up and lay upon the child ; and he
put his mouth upon his mouth, and his eyes upon his eyes, and his
hands upon his hands ; and he bowed himself upon him . . .
and the child gaped seven times and opened his eyes " (4 Kings

iv. 34. 35).

148

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 149

mysterious narratives, since I know that " man's life
is such, and the life of my spirit in such things as
these." Yet I want to tell those who are gifted with
a quick intelligence, and who are longing for the end
of every sermon almost before they have heard the
beginning, that I am a debtor to the dull, also, and
indeed to them especially. My purpose is not so much
to comment on words as to move and enkindle hearts. *
I have to draw the spiritual water from the well and to
give it to you to drink, which cannot be done by gliding
quickly through my subject, but by careful discussion
and frequent exhortation. However, the inquiry into
the mystical meanings of my present text has detained
us longer than even I had anticipated. I was under the
impression, I confess, that one discourse would suffice
for this, that we could pass quickly through this dark
and pathless forest of allegories, and perhaps in one
day's journey reach the open plain of moral instruc-
tions. But it has happened quite otherwise. Two
days have we been wandering in the wood and the
exit is still a long way off. The eye, contemplating a
landscape from afar, takes in at a glance the tops of
the trees and the peaks of the mountains. But the
wide extent of the low-lying valleys and the dense
tangles of brushwood thickets baffle its penetration.
How, for example, could I have foreseen the miracle
of Eliseus, until, whilst treating of the vocation of the
Gentiles, and the rejection of the Jews, it suddenly
and unexpectedly crossed my vision ? And now that
we have stumbled upon it, let us be content to dwell
a little on the thoughts it suggests, which will lead us
back again to the considerations we are intermitting.
For in these thoughts, also, we shall find food for our

150 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

souls. In the same manner, huntsmen and their hounds
desist occasionally from the pursuit of the quarry they
had first started, in order to chase another that springs
up in their path.

My brethren, I find solid ground for confidence in
the thought that this great Prophet, namely, Christ,
" a Man mighty in word and work," descending from
the high mountain of heaven, deigned to visit me,
" whereas I am but dust and ashes," to compassionate
me as I lay in death, to bend over my prostrate form,
to contract * and reduce Himself to my diminutive
stature, to illumine my blindness with the very light
of His Eyes, to cure my dumbness with the kiss of His
Mouth, and to strengthen my feeble hands by the
touch of His own. I find a sweet consolation in pon-
dering upon these things. They replenish my soul with
delight ; they enrich my spirit with an abundance of
grace ; and cause all my bones to break out into praise
of my Divine Benefactor. Such a restoration Christ
wrought once for all in favour of the whole human
race. But each one of us experiences daily in himself
a rehearsal of it, when, namely, the light of under-
standing is imparted to the heart, the word of edifi-
cation to the mouth, and to the hand the work of
justice. For it is He who gives us to think what is

* The Saint refers, of course, to that contraction whereby the
Divine Immensity reduced Itself to the littleness of our nature
when Christ " Who, being in the form of God, thought it not
robbery to be equal with God, emptied Himself, taking the form
of a servant." St. Augustine also sees in the miracle of Eliseus
a type and foreshadowing of the Incarnation. According to
him, the Prophet's staff, sent on ahead by the servant Giezi,
and which proved ineffectual to raise the child, symbolised the
rod of Moses, or the Law, incapable of restoring fallen man from
the death of sin to the life of grace. — (Translator.)

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 151

true, to speak it to advantage, and to reduce it to
practice in our lives. Herein we have a cord of triple
strand, difficult to break, for delivering souls out of
the devil's prison, and drawing them after us up into
heaven. And the cord I speak of consists in this, that
we conceive right sentiments, express them worthily,
and prove the sincerity of our faith by conforming our
lives to its teaching. With His own Eyes He has touched
mine, adorning with the brilliant luminaries of faith
and understanding the forehead, so to speak, of the
interior man. He has joined His Mouth to mine, im-
pressing the kiss of peace on the lips of the dead ; for
when we were still sinners, dead to justice, He recon-
ciled us to God. He applied His Mouth to mine, again
breathing into my face the breath of life, but of a
more holy life than the first. By the first He formed
me " into a living soul," by the second He reformed me
into a quickening spirit. He laid His Hands on mine,
by giving me the example of good works, the pattern
of obedience. Or certainly in that He " put forth His
Hands to strong things," in order to " teach my hands
to fight and my fingers to war."

" And the child gaped seven times." For the mani-
festation of the glory of the miracle, it was enough
that he should gape once. The multiplicity therefore,
and the reiteration until the mystical number seven
was reached, point to a mystery. If you now con-
template the huge body of the whole human race, at
first, indeed, you behold it altogether devoid of ani-
mation, like the corpse of the child. But when the
universal Church has been restored to life by contact
with the Prophet Who lay upon her, you will see her
opening wide her mouth, gaping, as it were, seven

152 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

times. That is to say, " seven times a day " she is
accustomed to give praise to God. If you consider
yourselves you may know by this that you are living
a spiritual life and fulfilling the mystical number, if
you subject the fivefold source of sensation to the two-
fold law of charity, and, according to the Apostle,
" yield your members to serve justice, unto sanctifi-
cation," as before you yielded them " to serve iniquity
unto iniquity." Or, otherwise, if you dedicate the same
five senses to the work of advancing the salvation of
your neighbour, and complete the number seven by
adding two exercises relating to God, viz., the praise
of His justice and the praise of His mercy.

I have also to speak of seven other " gapings." I
mean seven experimental tests, which are absolutely
necessary, if we desire to be assured that our souls
have recovered true life and health. Four of these
tests regard the sense of compunction ; the rest are
concerned with the voice of confession. If you have
life, and voice, and feeling, you have also in yourselves
an experience of the seven. You may be certain that
your sensibility has been perfectly restored, if you
notice that your conscience is pained with a fourfold
compunction, comprising a twofold shame and a two-
fold fear. Added to these four, the three modes of
confession, of which I intend to speak later on, make
up the mystical sevenfold and give us an assurance of
our restoration to life. Does not holy Jeremias, in his
Lamentations, observe this number four which, as I
have said, belongs to compunction ? Do you, then, in
your own lamentations, follow the example set by the
Prophet. Think of God as your Creator, think of Him
as your Benefactor, think of Him as your Father,

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 153

think of Him as your Lord. In all these relations, you
stand guilty before Him. Lament your offences against
Him in regard to each. Let fear be awakened at the
thought of the Creator and the Lord ; shame when you
call to mind the offended Benefactor and Father. A
father surely, for the reason that he is a father, cannot
inspire fear. It is peculiar to a father " to compassion-
ate always and to spare." And if he strikes, it is not
with the staff of punishment but with the rod of cor-
rection. Moreover, he soothes the pain his stroke has
produced. Listen to a father's voice, " I will strike
and I will heal." In a father, therefore, there is nothing
to be afraid of, who, although sometimes administering
chastisement as a remedy, can never inflict pain in
vengeance. Yet, if the thought of having sinned against
my Father in heaven does not inspire me with terror,
it ought certainly to fill me with confusion. Freely
did He beget me by the word of truth, and not under
necessitating impulse, very differently from the father
of my flesh. And for one so begotten He spared not
even His only Necessarily-Begotten. Thus has He in-
deed shown Himself a Father to me, but, alas! I, in
my turn, have not behaved as a son towards Him. A
son so evil of a Father so good, how shall I dare to lift
up my eyes to His Face ? I am ashamed of having by
my deeds dishonoured my ancestry. The thought that
I have proved myself a degenerate son of a Father so
noble overwhelms me with confusion. Let my eyes be-
come as fountains of water ! Let confusion cover my
countenance ! Let the blush of shame mantle my face
and as a cloud overcast it ! Let " my life be wasted
with griel, and my years with sighs ! " Alas ! alas !
what have I gained by those actions of which I am

154 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

now so much ashamed ? If I have " sown in the flesh
of the flesh also shall I reap," but only " corruption."
If I have sown in the world " the world passeth away
and the concupiscence thereof." What ! Have I been
so lost to shame, so unhappy, so insane, as to prefer
things transient, vain, and next to nothing, "the end
whereof is death," to the love and honour of my Eternal
Father ? I am confounded, I am overwhelmed at
hearing the reproach, " If I be a Father where is My
honour ? "

But quite apart from the claims He has on me as
my Father, He has also loaded me with His benefits.
He multiplies His witnesses against me in the food He
provides for my body, in the prolongation of my days,
and, above all, in the Blood of His Beloved Son, Which
" crieth from the earth " in my behalf, to say
nothing of innumerable other favours. I blush for
my ingratitude. And lest anything should be
wanting to my confusion, I stand convicted of
rendering evil for good, and hatred for love.
Yet I have as little to fear from my Benefactor
as from my Father. He is the true Benefactor, " Who
giveth to all men abundantly, and upbraideth not."
He does not upbraid me on account of His gifts, for
the reason that they are really gifts. The benefits of
God are given gratis, not sold at a price, and, as the
Apostle tells us, His " gifts are without repentance."
But in proportion to my admiration for the divine
generosity is the shame I am forced to feel for my own
unworthiness. Be confounded, O my soul, be con-
founded and saddened ! For, although it belongs not
to a Benefactor to reproach or upbraid, it ill beseems
us to be unmindful or ungrateful. Yet, woe is me !

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 155

even now, " what shall I render to the Lord for all
the things that He hath rendered to me ? "

But should shame be slothful and perform its work
imperfectly, let fear be called to its assistance. Let
fear be aroused in order to arouse the conscience.
Turn away your attention a little, my brethren, from
the tender names of Father and Benefactor, and direct
it to other titles more severe. For of the Same Who is
called " the Father of mercies and the God of all consola-
tion," we also read, " The Lord is the God to Whom
revenge belongeth," " God is a just Judge," " Who
is terrible in His counsels over the sons of men," and
" I am the Lord thy God, mighty and jealous." For
you He is a Father and a Benefactor ; He is Lord and
Creator for Himself. Hence the Scripture says, " He
hath made all things for Himself." Do you, then,
imagine that He Who defends and preserves to us what
is ours, will not, sooner or later, show a like zeal for
His own ? Do you suppose He will not require the
honour of His principality ? And it is for this reason
that "the wicked hath provoked God. For he hath
said in his heart, He will not require it." And what
is it to say in one's heart, " He will not require," except
not to fear His requisition ? But He will require, even
to the " last farthing." He will require, " and repay
them abundantly that act proudly." He will require
service from those whom He has redeemed, honour and
glory from the creatures of His Hand.

True, the Father overlooks, the Benefactor pardons ;
but not so the Lord and the Creator. He Who as Father
spares His child, will not as Creator spare His creature,
will not as Lord have compassion on a wicked servant.
Think, my brethren, what a dreadful, what a horrible

156 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

thing it is to have despised your Maker and the Creator
of all, to have offended the Lord of Majesty ! Fear is
inspired by majesty, and fear is inspired by lordship,
but especially by the Divine Majesty and the Divine
Lordship. And if the penalty of death is imposed by
human laws upon those who offend against human
majesty, what shall be the fate of such as despise the
Divine Omnipotence ? " He toucheth the mountains
and they smoke," and does a little sack of vile dust,
which may be scattered in a moment by a single breath
beyond the possibility of recall, does such a thing dare
to provoke so tremendous a Majesty ? He, my brethren,
He indeed ought to fill us with dread, " Who, after He
hath killed hath power to cast into hell." Ah, it is
hell that makes me afraid. I fear the wrathful Coun-
tenance of the Judge, which strikes terror even into the
angelic spirits. I tremble when I call to mind the
anger of the Omnipotent, and the face of His fury, and
the crashing of a universe tottering to destruction,
and the conflagration of the elements, and the mighty
tempest, and the voice of the Archangel, and " the
sharp word " of final reprobation. Horror overpowers
me at the thought of the fangs of the infernal beast,
of the bottomless abyss below, of the " lions roaring,
ready for their prey." I shudder with affright when-
ever I think of the gnawing worm that " dieth not,"
of the cataracts of fire, of the smoke, of the black
enveloping vapours, of the sulphur, of the " storm of
winds," and of the "exterior darkness." "Who will
give water to my head, and a fountain of tears to my
eyes," that by weeping over my sins now I may prevent
eternal weeping in the future, and escape the gnashing
of teeth and the cruel fetters for hands and feet, and

, ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 157

the oppressive weight of chains, galling, cramping,
burning, but not consuming ? Woe, woe is me, O my
mother ! Oh, why didst thou bring me forth, to be a
child of sorrow and bitterness, of eternal wrath, of
everlasting lamentation ? Oh, why didst thou take
upon thy knees and suckle at thy breast one that is but
born to be fuel for the fire, destined for the burning ?

He that is thus affected, my brethren, has without
doubt recovered his sense of feeling ; and in this twofold
fear, viz., of God as Creator and as Lord, added to the
previously mentioned twofold shame of Him as Father
and as Benefactor, he has four of the seven " gapirvgs."
The three which remain, he will find in the voice of con-
fession, so that it shall no longer be said of him that
" there is neither voice nor feeling." If yet that voice
of confession proceeds from a simple, humble, and
trustful heart. Therefore, let him confess humbly, sin-
cerely, and trustfully whatever troubles his conscience,
and so he will have done what is required of him in
this matter. There are some " who are glad when they
have done evil, and rejoice in most wicked things." It
is of such Isaias speaks where he says, " They have
proclaimed abroad their sin as Sodom." But these, as
being worldlings, I exclude from further consideration
in my present discourse, for what have we to do with
those " who are without " ?

Yet even amongst persons who wear the religious
habit and have made the monastic vows, I have
occasionally heard some recounting and shamelessly
boasting of the sins of their past. They proudly talk,
for instance, of the great courage they gave evidence
of in the duels which they fought whilst living in the
world ; or of their skill in verbal disputations, or of

158 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

other such exploits, honourable according to the vanity
of the world, but hurtful, pernicious, ruinous to the
interests of the soul. Such language betrays a worldly
spirit. The humble habit of religion worn by these
people, instead of being a sign that they have put on
the new man of sanctity, is nothing but a cloak for the
old man of sin. Others make mention of the same
things as if in sorrow and penitence. But since they
aim at self-glorification in their intention, they only de-
ceive themselves, whilst their guilt remains. For " God
is not mocked." They have not put off the old man, but
they hide him under the new. The old leaven is neither
given up nor cast forth by such a confession as this,
but rather strengthened, according to the words :
" Because I was silent, my bones grew old, whilst I
cried out all the day long." I am ashamed to speak
of the impudence of some who are brazen enough to
boast exultantly of what ought to be expiated with
tears of compunctiom, how, even after they were
clothed in the sacred livery, they cleverly overreached
such a brother ; how they outwitted another ; how
they retaliated on such as injured them by word or
deed. That is to say, they make it matter for boasting
to have requited evil with evil, reproach with reproach !
There is still another kind of confession which is all
the more dangerous in proportion as the vanity con-
cealed in it is the more subtle and difficult to detect.
I allude to that in which we have the boldness to reveal
our crimes and abominations, not because we are
humble, but because we desire to appear so. But to
seek the praise of humility is not the virtue, but rather
the subversion of humility. The really humble man is
anxious not to be acclaimed for his humility, but to

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 159

be reputed as vile. He rejoices in contempt, and glories
in nothing but in his contempt of praise. What, my
brethren, can be more perverse, what more unworthy
than that confession of sin, the very guardian of hu-
mility, should be pressed into the service of pride, and
that you should wish to be reputed saints on account
of that precisely which makes you to appear sinners ?
This is surely a most extraordinary manner of boasting,
as if one could not otherwise acquire a reputation for
sanctity than by exhibiting himself as a criminal ! But
as it has only the appearance, not the reality of humility,
far from obtaining pardon, it even provokes the divine
anger. Did it avail Saul anything to acknowledge his
sin, when reproved by Samuel ? Doubtless, that con-
fession must have been itself sinful, seeing that it did
not merit the forgiveness of sin. For when did the
Master of humility, Whose nature inclines Him to
grant His grace to the humble, ever reject an humble
confession ? No, He could not but be appeased, if
only the humble sentiments which sounded on the lips
were found also to be entertained in the heart. This is
the reason why I have said confession must be humble.
But it must also be simple. If evil has been really
committed do not be at pains to justify the intention
as you may feel tempted to do, inasmuch as this is
not visible to the human eye. Do not try to palliate
your fault, if you know it to be serious. Neither should
you attempt to excuse it on the plea of persuasion by
others, since no one can be compelled to do wrong
against his will. To justify the intention is rather self-
defence than self-accusation, and calls down, instead
of appeasing, the anger of heaven. To extenuate one's
guilt shows a want of gratitude, because by striving

160 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to lessen your culpability, you detract from the glory
of the divine mercy which pardons you . Besides, favours
are conferred the less willingly, accordingly as they
are observed to be the less thankfully received, as being
considered by the recipient the less necessary to him.
Consequently, he who depreciates the divine bounty,
by endeavouring with words to extenuate his guilt,
forfeits thereby the divine forgiveness. Let the example
of the first man deter you from transferring to others
the responsibility of your transgression. Adam did
not deny his fault, yet he did not obtain pardon, and
the reason doubtless was because he made mention
also of the sin of his wife. That is a familiar way of
excusing oneself, namely, when accused yourselves to
accuse another. But let holy David tell you how not
merely unprofitable, but even pernicious it is to wish to
excuse oneself by accusing one's neighbour. " Evil
words " he calls " excuses in sins." And he begs and
entreats the Lord not to " incline his heart " to them.
Nor without reason. For he who excuses his guilt sins
against his own soul, rejects the medicine of pardon,
and thus with his own mouth deprives himself of spiri-
tual life. What can be more malicious than to take
up arms in this way against one's own salvation, and
to pierce oneself, so to speak, with one's own sword ?
" He that is evil to himself, to whom will he be good ? "
It is also required that confession should be trustful.
This is necessary in order that it may be made in hope,
with full confidence of forgiveness, lest otherwise, in-
stead of being justified, you condemn yourselves with
your own lips. Judas, who betrayed Our Lord, and
Cain, who slew his brother, both confessed, but both
without confidence. " I have sinned," said the former,

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 161

" in betraying innocent blood." " My iniquity," ex-
claimed the latter, " is greater than that I may deserve
pardon." Truthful confessions both, but unavailing,
because untrustful. These three qualities of a good
confession, added to the four properties of acceptable
compunction, considered just now, will make up the
mystical seven.

Now, when you feel such compunction and have so
confessed, and consequently are assured of the pos-
session of life, you will also, as I think, admit as
certain that the name Jesus is no empty title in Him
Who has both the will and the power to work such
wonders in you ; and that it has not been in vain He
Himself followed the staff which He sent on before.
His coming has not been in vain, because He came not
empty. How, indeed, could He be empty in Whom
dwelt the fulness of the Divinity? For to Him the
Spirit has not been given in measure. Moreover,
it is written that He came in the " fulness of
time " to indicate to us that He came not empty.
Assuredly He was full Whom the Father " hath an-
ointed with the oil of gladness above His fellows."
And He was anointed that He might Himself anoint
us. AH who have deserved to receive of His fulness,
have been anointed by Him. Therefore He says,
' The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because the Lord
hath anointed Me. He hath sent Me to preach to the
meek, to heal the contrite of heart, and to preach a
release to the captives, and deliverance to them that
are shut up, to proclaim the acceptable year of the
Lord." He came, as you have just heard, to anoint
our sores and to soothe our sorrows. Therefore did
He come anointed. Therefore did He come " sweet
i. t

l62 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

and mild, and plenteous in mercy to all that call upon
Him " He knew He was descending to an afflicted
race and assumed the character most necessary for
their relief And as there were many infirmities, like
a physician of wisdom and foresight, He came pro-
vided with many remedies. He brought with Him the
Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit ot
counsel and fortitude, the Spirit of knowledge and
piety, and the Spirit of the fear of the Lord

You see, my brethren, what a number of phials full
of precious ointments this heavenly Physician pre-
pared for healing the wounds of that poor man who
fell amongst robbers." They are seven in number, de-
signed perhaps for the excitation of the above-mentioned
seven " gapings." For the Spirit of life dwelt in these
phials Out of them, certainly, He poured oil upon
my wounds. He also poured wine, but less wine than
oil That is to say, He so accommodated His treat-
ment to my infirmities, that mercy should be exalted
over justice, just as the oil floats above wine when
poured into the same vessel. He brought five vessels
of oil as against only two of wine. For it is only fear
and fortitude that wine can be understood to sym-
bolise The other five virtues, namely, wisdom, under-
standing, counsel, knowledge, and piety, suggest the
idea of oil by the sweetness of their flavour In the
Spirit of fortitude, " like a mighty man that hath been
surfeited with wine," He descended into hell, broke
in pieces the gates of brass, and burst the bars of iron
In the same Spirit He bound " the strong man, and
delivered human souls from the yoke of Satan But
He descended also in the Spirit of fear, not of fear
felt by Himself, but of fear to be struck into others.

ON THE MYSTICAL NUMBER SEVEN 163

O Wisdom, powerfully sweet and sweetly powerful !
With what healing art in wine and oil dost thou restore
the health of my soul ! Surely thou " reachest from
end to end mightly and disposest all things sweetly,"
driving far off the enemy and taking care of the weak »
' Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed." I will sing
and praise Thy name, and will say, " Thy name is as
oil poured out." Not as wine poured out, for wine
signifies power and fear, and O Lord, " enter not into
judgment with Thy servant " ; but as oil, since Thou
dost " crown me with mercy and compassion." Yes
as oil, which, floating above all liquids, into which it is
poured, by this property beautifully typifies the name
which is above all names." O name, exceeding sweet
exceeding savoury! O name, glorious beyond all'
chosen out of all, sublime and exalted above all for
ever ! This is truly the oil that makes " the face of
man cheerful," that " fattens the head " of him who
fasts, so that he does not feel the oil of the sinner.
This is the " new name which the Mouth of the Lord
hath named," which was even " called by the angel
before He was conceived in the womb." Not alone
the Jew, but " whosoever shall call upon this name
shall be saved," for to this purpose has it been poured
out. This the Father gave to His Son, the Bridegroom
of the Church, Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who is over
all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XVII

On the Coming and Going of the Spirit and on
Satan's envy of the Human Race.

" Thy name is as oil poured out."

Do you think, my brethren, that we have now, in
our efforts to fathom the admirable mysteries con-
cealed in our text, " Thy name is as oil poured out,"
penetrated far enough into the sanctuary of God?
Or do you wish that we continue our scrutiny, if aught
still remains unexamined, and venture to follow the
Spirit even into the Holy of Holies ? For this Spirit
"searcher*" not alone "the hearts and reins" of
men, but also " the deep things of God." Securely
may we follow Him, V whithersoever He goeth," in
things divine or in things human. Only let us pray
Him to guard our hearts and our minds, lest haply
we should think Him to be with us when He is away,
and mistaking our own spirit for Him, so wander from
our course. He comes and goes as He wills, and none
can easily know " whence He cometh or whither He
goeth." Such ignorance does not, perhaps, involve any
risk to our salvation. But inability to recognise His
coming and His going would manifestly be attended
with the gravest peril. For when we do not observe
most carefully these vicissitudes of grace, these advents
and withdrawals of the Holy Ghost, designed in His
providence for our good, the result is that He is neither
desired when absent, nor glorified when present. He

164

ON THE COMING OF THE SPIRIT 165

retires from the soul in order to excite us to seek Him
the more eagerly. But how can this be, if we are un-
aware of His departure ? Again, He graciously returns
to console us. But how is it possible to welcome Him
with the honour due to His Majesty, unless His arrival
attracts our attention ? He, therefore, that is in-
sensible to His going, lies open to the seduction of the
enemy. He that observes not His coming can feel no
gratitude for the gracious visitation.

Eliseus of old asked a favour of his master, the Prophet
Elias, when he perceived that his (Elias's) departure
was at hand. But, as you know, he did not obtain
his request except on condition that he should see the
man of God when the latter was being taken up from
him to heaven. This happened to them in figure, and
has been recorded for our instruction. The example
of Eliseus teaches and admonishes us to watch with
solicitude over the work of our salvation, which the
Holy Spirit operates within us unceasingly, with the
marvellous skill and sweetness of His own divine art.
My brethren, let us so attend to this gracious Spirit,
Who is our Heavenly Mentor and "teacheth (us) all
things " necessary, that He can never be taken away
from us, without our knowledge, if we do not wish
to be deprived of His double gift.* Let Him
never, therefore, at His coming, find us unprepared,
but always on the watch, with faces uplifted and
hands stretched forth to receive a rich benediction

* This double gift (Duplicatum munus) is apparently the two-
fold operation of the Holy Spirit which forms the subject of the
following sermon. There is allusion to the " double spirit "
promised as a parting gift to Eliseus, if he beheld his master
Elias at the moment of his assumption. See 4 Kings xi. —
(Translator.)

166 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

from the Lord. What kind of souls does He condescend
to visit ? Such, we are told, as are " like to men who
wait for their Lord, when He shall return from the
wedding." And surely this Lord never returns empty-
handed from that heavenly table which is laden with
such an abundance of good things. We must watch,
then, we must be on the alert at all times, because we
know not at what hour the Spirit will come, nor at
what hour He will again take His departure. He goes
and He returns ; and the soul that kept her feet whilst
supported by Him, must of necessity fall, when He
withdraws His Hand. But, though falling, she "shall
not be bruised, for the Lord putteth His Hand under "
her again. Such alternations of fervour and aban-
donment never cease in those who are spiritual, or
rather the Holy Ghost never ceases from " visiting
early in the morning, and suddenly proving" those
whom He designs to advance in spirituality. " The
just man shall fall seven times, and shall rise again."
Yet so, if he falls in the day, that is to say, if he sees
himself falling and knows that he has fallen, and thus,
desiring to rise, may seek the Hand of his Supporter,
and say, " O Lord, in Thy favour, Thou gavest strength
to my beauty ; Thou turnedst away Thy Face from
me and I became troubled."

It is one thing, my brethren, to doubt the truth
indeliberately, which is inevitable with us when the
Spirit ceases to illuminate our souls by His inspira-
tions; but it is quite another thing to embrace volun-
tarily what is false. This latter misfortune we may
avoid by not remaining in ignorance of our own ignor-
ance, so that we also may say, " And if I have been
ignorant of anything, my ignorance is with me," viz.,

ON THE COMING OF THE SPIRIT 167

" is known to me." These, my brethren, are the words
of holy Job. Do you not recognise them ? Error and
doubt are the two evil daughters of an evil mother,
ignorance. Error is of the two the more wretched,
doubt the more deserving of compassion. The former
state is the more pernicious, the latter the more painful.
But at the word of the Spirit both disappear, and there
succeeds to them not simply truth, but the certain
assurance of truth. For the Holy Ghost is the Spirit
of truth, to which error is contrary. He is also the
Spirit of wisdom, being the " Brightness of eternal
life," " reaching everywhere by reason of His purity "
and admitting nothing of the obscurity that belongs
to error and ignorance. When He ceases to speak to
us, we must be on our guard, if not against distressing
doubt, which we cannot avoid, at all events against
detestable error. In a state of uncertainty, there is
a very wide difference between holding as probable
this or that opinion, and rashly asserting what one
has no real knowledge of. Therefore, either let the
Holy Spirit never cease to commune with us, which,
of course, depends entirely on His own good pleasure ;
or if He is pleased sometimes to remain silent, let
Him at least give us warning of this, and so speak to
us still by His silence. Otherwise, mistakenly sup-
posing that He continues to lead us, we shall, with
fatal security, follow, instead of Him, our own deluding
spirit. If, then, it is His good pleasure to leave us
sometimes in the perplexity of doubt, let Him not,
at any rate, ever abandon us to the deception of error.
There are some, my brethren, who say what is false,
but sincerely and in good faith, and these, conse-
quently, are not guilty of falsehood. And some there

168 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

are who affirm the truth which they know not, and
these are really liars. The former do not assert that
to be a fact which is not, but simply that they believe
what they really do believe, and so they speak the
truth ; although what they believe is not objectively
true. Whereas, the latter, by pretending to be certain
when they are not certain, speak falsely even when
that which they say happens to be true.*

Having premised this much for the instruction of
such as are inexpeiienced in these matters, I will now
follow the Spirit, Who, as I trust, precedes to guide
me. Yet I will myself, as far as I can, observe the
same precautions which I have recommended to you.
I will endeavour to practise what I preach. Otherwise
to me also it may be said, " Thou that teachest others,
teachest not thyself." Doubtless, it is necessary to
distinguish between what is evident and what is un-
certain, so that the former may not be called in ques-
tion, nor the latter boldly maintained. But even for
this, we must depend upon the assistance of the Holy
Ghost, for our own efforts are insufficient. What man
knows, for instance, whether the judgment passed by
God upon the case of the Jew and the Gentile, as set
forth in an earlier discourse (the third, I think, before

* That is to say, a lie consists essentially in speaking against
one's belief — locutio contra mentem. Hence it would be a lie to
speak as true what one mistakenly supposes to be false, whilst
there would be no lie in saying what one sincerely but erro-
neously believes to be true. A statement is materially
(objectively) true or false, according as it is or is not in con-
formity with fact. Formal (subjective) truth or falsity is the
conformity or difformity between one's words and one's thoughts.
St. Augustine considered that the intention to deceive belongs
to the essence of a lie, but this is not generally admitted. —
(Translator.)

ON THE COMING OF THE SPIRIT 169

this) was not preceded by similar judgment, pronounced
even in heaven ?

My meaning is this. Do you not suppose that Lucifer,
who arose in the morning, and with impatient ambition
mounted on high — do you not think that he also, before
he was cast down into eternal darkness, envied the
human race the oil poured out upon it, and in anger
began to murmur, saying within himself, " To what
purpose is this waste ? " I do not claim that this is
from the Spirit. But I do assert that it is not contra-
dicted by the Spirit. Hence, as to its truth or falsity,
I am simply ignorant. However, what I say is not
impossible, and there is no reason why it should seem
incredible, namely, that a spiritual creature, full of
wisdom, and of surpassing beauty, might have fore-
known that men were to be created and advanced to
equal glory with himself. But if he did foreknow this,
it was doubtless because he read it in the Word of
God.* Then, in his malice, he waxed envious, and
designed to have as his subjects those whom he scorned
to recognise as his equals. "They are weaker than
I," he said to himself ; "they are of an inferior nature.
It is not fitting, therefore, that they should be my
fellow-citizens, my compeers in glory." Perchance,
that proud ascent of his, and that sitting down in the
manner of a master, manifested his wicked design.
' I will ascend into heaven," he said, " I will sit in
the mountain of the covenant, in the sides of the

* " Sed si praescivit, in Dei Verbo absque dubio vidit." The
meaning of this seems to be that it was in the mystery of the
Incarnation, foreshown to him, that Lucifer read the pre-
destination of man to a supernatural glory equal to his own.
Otherwise, it is not easy to see why the Saint should make
pecial mention of the Word. — (Translator.)

170 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

north." Thus he hoped to become like to the Most
High ; so that, just as the Lord God, seated above
the Cherubim, governed the whole angelic creation, he
himself, in the same way, throned on high, would rule
the race of man. But God forbid that he should have
his wish ! " He hath devised iniquity on his bed."
But let his " iniquity lie to itself." As for us, we will
recognise no judge but our Maker. Not the devil,
but the Lord " shall judge the world," and " He is
our God for ever and ever, He shall rule us for
evermore."

Therefore, my brethren, that proud spirit " conceived
sorrow," that is, envious rancour, in heaven, and in
paradise, where he seduced our first parents, he
" brought forth iniquity," the daughter of malice, the
mother of death and of misery. And pride is the mother
of all. For, although it was " by the envy of the devil
that death came into the world," nevertheless it is
written that " pride is the beginning of all sin." But
" what hath pride profit eth " Lucifer ? Nothing at all,
for in spite of his malicious designs, "Thou, O Lord,
art among us, and Thy name is called upon us." Hence
Thy " purchased people," hence " the Church of the
redeemed" exclaims, "'Thy name is as oil poured
out.' Even when, by sin, I deserve to be cast forth,
Thou dost pour this oil of mercy and pardon after me
and over me, because ' when Thou art angry Thou wilt
remember mercy.' " Nevertheless, Satan has obtained
an empire over the sons of pride, being made prince of
"this darkness," to the end that even pride itself
should subserve the interests of the kingdom of humility.
And thus, whilst his one temporal principality of dark-
ness remains to him, such as it is, he is constantly

ON THE COMING OF THE SPIRIT 171

helping to establish multitudes of the humble on ex-
alted and eternal thrones. Surely a happy dispensation,
that the proud oppressor of the humble should be thus
unwittingly fashioning everlasting crowns for them,
attacking all and conquered by all. For always and
everywhere the Lord shall judge His people, " He shall
save the children of the poor, and He shall humble
the oppressor." Yes, in all places and at all times, He
will defend His own, repel their enemies, " and will
not leave the rod of sinners upon the lot of the just,
that the just may not stretch forth their hands to
iniquity." And the time will come when He shall at
last, and completely, " destroy the bow and break the
arms, and the shield He shall burn with fire." Thou,
O most miserable one ! hast fixed thy seat in the north,
in the region of clouds and cold ; and, lo ! " the needy "
are lifted up " from the dust," and " the poor from the
dung-hill," " that they may sit with princes and hold
the throne of glory," and that thou mayst grieve the
more at beholding the fulfilment of the prophecy, " the
poor and the needy shall praise Thy name."

Thanks to Thee, Father of the fatherless, and De-
fender of the orphans, " a curdled mountain, a fat
mountain " has imparted to us its heat. " The heavens
dropped (dew) at the presence of the God of Sinai."
Oil has been poured out. Thy name has been spread
abroad — the name which the enemy enviously be-
grudged to us, as he did us to it. That name, I say,
has been spread abroad, extending even to the hearts
and lips of little ones. For " out of the mouth of infants
and sucklings " it has " perfected praise." Then, " the
sinner shall see and shall be angry." But as his anger
is implacable, so shall the fire be inextinguishable

*72 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

" which is prepared for the devil and his angels." " The
zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this." How Thou
lovest me, O my God, my Love ! how Thou lovest
me ! Everywhere Thou art mindful of me ! Every-
where Thou are zealous for my salvation, not alone
against the pride of men, but even against the pride
of exalted angelic spirits ! Both in heaven and on
earth " Thou, O Lord, dost judge them that wrong me,
dost overthrow them that fight against me." Every-
where Thou art my defence ! Everywhere Thou art
my support ! Everywhere Thou dost appear at my
right hand ! For these things " in my life I will praise
the Lord ; I will sing to my God as long as 1 shall be."
These are His works of power, these are " His wonders
which He hath wrought." That is the first and the
greatest of His judgments, which the Virgin Mary, the
confidante of His secrets, revealed to me, when she
said, " He hath put down the mighty from their seat,
and hath exalted the humble ; He hath filled the hungry
with good things, and the rich He hath sent empty
away." " The second " of His judgments " is like unto
this," and you have already heard it, viz., "that they
who see not may see, and that they who see may become
blind." In these two judgments let the poor man
console himself, and let him sing, " I remembered, O
Lord, Thy judgments of old, and I was comforted."

But we must now return to ourselves and examine
our ways. And that we may do this sincerely, let us
invoke the Spirit of truth. Let us recall Him out of
the deep into which He has led us, that He may deign
to guide us back again to ourselves, because without
Him we can do nothing. Nor ought we to fear lest
He should refuse to condescend to us. Rather we shall

ON THE COMING OF THE SPIRIT 173

provoke His indignation by attempting anything what-
ever without His concurrence. For He is not " a spirit
that goeth and returneth not," but He leads us forth
and back again "from glory to glory " as being "the
Spirit of the Lord," sometimes ravishing us unto His
own divine light, sometimes tempering His influence
upon us, and only "illuminating our darkness," so
that, whether raised above ourselves, or left with our-
selves, we may always be in light, always walk as " the
sons of light." We have now, at length, come forth
from the dim forest of allegories. It remains to seek
out the moral meanings of our text. Our faith has
been confirmed, let our conduct exhibit a correspond-
ing improvement. Our minds have been instructed, let
our morals show the result. " Understanding is good
for all that do it," for those, namely, who direct their
actions and their thoughts to the glory of Our Lord
Jesus Christ, Who is over all things, God blessed for
ever. Amen.

SERMON XVIH
On the Two Operations of the Holy Ghost.

" Thy name is as oil poured out."

"Thy name is as oil poured out." What, my
brethren, is that fact concerning ourselves, which the
Holy Ghost desires to make us certain of by the words
of this text ? Surely (and it is only since my last
discourse it has occurred to me *) He intends thereby
to confirm what we know from experience, namely,
that His operation in us is twofold. For He not only
fortifies us interiorly with virtues, unto our own sal-
vation, but He also adorns us exteriorly with His gifts,
unto the salvation of others. The former are bestowed
upon us for our own sakes, the latter with a view to
our neighbour's advantage. For instance, we obtain
faith, hope, and charity for ourselves, as without them

* This seems to be the simplest and most natural rendering
of the parenthetical clause — quod occurrit interim. It is not
contradicted by the reference to the twofold operation in the
preceding sermon, since what is said to have been suggested
in the meantime is not the twofold character of the Spirit's
operation, but the connexion of that with the words of the
text. St. Bernard sometimes uses the word " interim " to
denote the present life, in which sense it is possible to under-
stand it here. The meaning then will be that the experience
of the two operations of the Holy Ghost, Infusion and Effusion
(the gratia gratum jaciens and gratia gratis data of later theolo-
gians), is limited to our earthly existence, which is certainly true.
Less warranted both by the words themselves and by the
context is the interpretation given by some : " which is next in
order." — (Translator.)

*74

TWO OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY GHOST 175

salvation is impossible. On the other hand, the word
of wisdom and knowledge, the grace of healing, the
gift of prophecy, and the like, which are in no sense
necessary to the saving of our own souls, are communi-
cated, doubtless, to be employed in promoting the spiri-
tual interests of others. These operations or graces of
the Holy Spirit, experienced in ourselves or in others,
I will, if you allow me, call Infusion and Effusion, re-
spectively, deriving the names from the ends for which
they are bestowed. But of which is it said, " Thy name
is as oil poured out " ? Manifestly, of Effusion. For
if the reference were to Infusion, it would be more proper
to say, "Thy name is as oil poured in," than "Thy
name is as oil poured out." Besides, it is because of
the good odour of the breasts, exteriorly perfumed, that
the Spouse exclaims, " Thy name is as oil poured out,"
attributing the aroma to the name of her Beloved, as
to a sweet perfume on her breasts. In the same way,
everyone who knows himself to be favoured with the
gift of exterior grace, capable of being communicated
to others, every sucH person, I say, may exclaim in
wonder and gratitude, " Thy name is as oil poured out."
Yet, with regard to these graces, both interior and
exterior, we must be on our guard against two tempta-
tions. These are, on the one hand, to give away what
we have received for ourselves, and, on the other,
to retain for ourselves what has been entrusted to us
for the benefit of our neighbours. Certainly, you incur
the guilt of keeping what belongs to another, if, whilst
full of virtues, and adorned exteriorly with the endow-
ments of wisdom and eloquence, through fear or sloth,
or influenced by indiscreet humility, you seal under a
useless, I should rather say, criminal silence, the

176 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

" good word," which might have subserved the progress
of many. Of such we read in Proverbs, "He that
hideth up corn shall be cursed among the people. "
On the contrary, you waste and squander what you
should keep for yourselves, when, without waiting for
a complete infusion of the Spirit, you are impatient,
although not more than half full, to empty yourselves
out upon others. Thus you transgress the law which
forbids us to plough with the first-born of the cow, or
to shear the first-born of the sheep. I mean to say,
you deprive yourselves of the life and health which you
are communicating to others ; because, whilst trying to
serve your neighbours without purity of intention, you
are but inflating yourselves with the wine of vainglory
or inoculating yourselves with the poison of cupidity,
or exposing to loss your own lives by fostering the
swelling of the deadly aposteme of pride.

Wherefore, my brethren, if you be wise, you will
make yourselves to be reservoirs rather than conduits.
The difference between a conduit and a reservoir is
this, that whereas the former discharges all its waters
almost as soon as received, the latter waits until
it is full to the brim, and only communicates what is
superfluous, what it can give away without loss to
itself. Remember that a curse has been pronounced
against him who deteriorates the lot which has been
transmitted to him.* And lest you should despise my
counsel, attend to one who is wiser than I. "A fool,"
says Solomon, "uttereth all his mind; a wise man
deferreth and keepeth it till afterwards." Yet we have

* This seems to be an allusion to the land-laws under
which the Hebrews received and retained their lots. See
Leviticus xxv. — (Translator.)

TWO OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY GHOST 177

in the Church to-day many conduits and but very few
reservoirs. So great is the charity of those through
whom the celestial streams of knowledge are com-
municated to us, that they want to give away before
they have received. They are more willing to speak
than to listen. They are forward to teach what they
have not learned. Although unable to govern them-
selves, they gladly undertake to rule others. For my
part, I think that, with regard to one's own salvation,
no degree of charity is so necessary as that which
Solomon proposes to us, where he says, "Have pity
on thy own soul, pleasing God." If I have but a very
small stock of oil for my own use, do you consider I
ought to give that little away, and keep nothing for
myself ? But I want all I have for my own anointing,
nor will I share it with others, except at the bidding
of a prophet, like the widow of Sarepta at the word of
Elias. And should some of those " who think of me
above that which they see in me, or hear anything of
me/' persist in demanding a share of my oil, they shall
get this answer : " Lest, perhaps, there be not enough
for us and for you, go ye rather to them that sell, and
buy for yourselves." But you may tell me, " Charity
seeketh not her own." No, indeed, but do you know
why ? She " seeketh not her own " because, no doubt,
nothing of her own is wanting to her, and so needing J
to be sought. Who seeks for that which he already
possesses ? Charity is never without "her own," that
is, without what is necessary for her own salvation.
Not only has she what is requisite in this respect, but
she has it in superabundance. She wishes to abound
first unto herself, that she may also abound unto
others. She keeps a sufficiency for herself, so that she

I. M

178 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

may be wanting to none. For charity that is not full
is not perfect.

But, O my brother, thy salvation has yet to be
secured. Thy charity is either non-existent, or so
delicate and reed-like that it bends to every blast,
gives credit to every spirit, " is carried about with
every wind of doctrine." And yet so great is it that,
not content with what is of precept, it inclines thee
to go beyond and to love thy neighbour even more
than thyself ; whilst, at the same time, it is so little,
that contrary to what is commanded, it dissolves in
consolation, faints under fear, loses its peace in sadness,
is contracted by greed, distracted by ambition, dis-
quieted by suspicion, disturbed by reproof, tormented
with care, inflated with honour, consumed with envy.
Then, by what strange madness, I ask, dost thou, per-
ceiving thyself to be such, desire or consent to be the
director of others? But hear the counsel given by a
cautious and vigilant charity : " Not that others should
be eased," writes St. Paul, "and you burthened, but
by an equality." " Be not over just." It suffices that
thou lovest thy neighbour as thyself, and " by an
equality." David prayed, " Let my soul be filled as
with marrow and fatness, and my mouth shall praise
Thee with joyful lips." That is, he wished to receive
before communicating. And not only to receive, but
even to be replenished, so that his giving might resemble
in its easiness rather the eructation of satiety than the
yawning which proceeds from an empty stomach . In this
manner he observes caution, lest " others should be
eased " and he himself " burthened." He also preserved
a right intention in imparting his gifts in imitation of
Him " of Whose fulness we have all received." Do

TWO OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY GHOST 179

thou, likewise, my brother, learn to belch forth of thy
fulness, and do not desire to be more generous than
God. Let the reservoir imitate its fountain. The foun-
tain sends out no current, and foims no lake until it
has first filled itself with its waters. It ought to be no
shame to the reservoir that it does not surpass its source
in prodigality. Was not the very Well- Spring of life
full in Himself and of Himself ere He would, like a
brimming fountain, overflow and pour out His divine
treasures first into those secluded heavenly regions that
lay nearest, viz., the angelic creation, and there " fill
all things with good " ? Then, having replenished all the
loftier and more secret parts, He streamed down upon
the earth, and out of His superabundance, "saved men
and beasts, according as He hath multiplied His mercy."
First, He filled the higher and more interior spaces.
Afterwards, overleaping the bounds of heaven, " He
hath visited the earth in many mercies," inebriated it
with gladness, "and many ways enriched it." There-
fore, " go and do thou in like manner." Fill thyself
in the first place, and then endeavour to fill others.
The charity which combines prudence with generosity
is wont to flow in before flowing out. " My son,"
says Solomon, " do not let slip." And the Apostle,
" Therefore ought we more diligently to observe the
things which we have heard, lest perhaps we should
let them slip." What ! Art thou holier than St. Paul,
or wiser than Solomon ? Otherwise, I do not want to
be made rich by thy self-spoliation. And if thou art
evil to thyself, to whom wilt thou be good ? Help me,
if thou canst, out of thy abundance. But if thou hast
nothing to spare, then spare thy little for thyself.
But hear now, my brethren, what and how much is

180 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

necessary to one's own salvation, what and how much
ought to be poured into us before we can safely pre-
sume to pour anything out. At present, I must com-
press this part of my instruction within very narrow
limits, for the time has slipped and I shall soon have to
finish. The Divine Physician has come to the wounded
man, the Holy Spirit to the soul. For where is the soul
which has not been transpierced with the devil's sword,
even after the remedial virtue of Baptism has healed
the wound of original sin ? When, therefore, the Holy
Spirit approaches the soul which has invoked Him,
and which says, " My sores are putrified and cor-
rupted because of my foolishness," what is the first
thing to be done ? Surely, to cut away any ulcerous
growth which may have appeared in the wound, and
which would prevent or retard its healing. Hence,
let the keen knife of compunction remove the tumour
of sinful habit. The pain shall indeed be very sharp.
But let it be soothed with the sweet ointment of
devotion, which is nothing else than the joy con-
ceived from the hope of pardon. This hope is itself
begotten of the experience of the power to control our
passions, and of the victory we have gained over sin.
Then the soul gives thanks and cries, " Thou hast
broken my bonds ; I will sacrifice to Thee the sacrifice
of praise." Next is applied the medicament of penance, a
healing poultice of watchings, fastings, and prayers, and
of all other kinds of penitential exercises. But whilst
engaged in the labours of penance we must not forget
to nourish ourselves with the meat of good works, lest
otherwise we faint. And what this meat is the Divine
Master tells us in the words, " My meat is to do the
will of Him That sent Me." So, let the works of piety,

TWO OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY GHOST 181

which are a source of strength, accompany our practices
of penance. " Alms," says Tobias, " shall be a great
confidence before the Most High God." But meat ex-
cites thirst, which has to be slaked. Therefore, we must
add to the solid food of good works the drink of prayer,
which by moistening this meat of virtuous action shall
make it more easy to digest for the stomach of the
conscience, and render it more pleasing to the Lord.
It is in prayer that we drink the " wine which rejoiceth
the heart of man," the wine of the Spirit, which intoxi-
cates the soul with holy love, and banishes from her the
memory of sensual delights. This wine irrigates the
parched interior of the conscience, facilitates, as already
remarked, the digestion of the meat of good works,
and distributes the nutriment amongst the members of
the soul (if you allow me the expression), confirming
faith, fortifying hope, enlivening and regulating charity,
and anointing all our actions with the rich unction of
grace.

Having thus satisfied her hunger and thirst, what
now remains for the sick soul, except to rest and to
give herself up to the quiet of contemplation after the
painful fatigues of action ? But whilst she thus slumbers
in the peace of prayer, she sees God, as in a dream.
That is to say, she sees Him " through a glass, in a dark
manner," and not yet " face to face." Nevertheless, al-
though He is not so much perceived as He is in Himseli
and immediately, as vaguely felt and apprehended,*

* For a comparison of the mystical with the Beatific Vision
of God, see Poulain's Graces oj Prayer, p. 261, Eng. Trans. The
knowledge obtained in both is said to be experimental ; yet the
difference is not only in degree of clarity but in kind. For it
is only in the Beatific Vision that God is revealed as He is in
Himself. Theologians are not agreed as to whether this Vision

i82 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

and that but in a passing way, and by the light of a
sudden and momentary blaze of glory, so great a flame of
love is enkindled in her by this obscure and transient
vision that she exclaims, " My soul hath desired Thee
in the night, yea, and my spirit within me." Such a
love is full of zeal. Such a love is becoming in the
friend of the Bridegroom. Such a love must be pos-
sessed by "the faithful and wise servant, whom his
Lord hath appointed over His family." Such a love
fills up the soul's capacity ; it waxes hot and boils
over. Then may it securely pour itself out, overflowing
and overleaping its bounds and crying aloud, "Who is
weak and I am not weak ? Who is scandalised and I
am not on fire?" Let him that is such preach the
word and make it fructify ; let him multiply signs and
wonders ; because there is no room for vanity in the
soul where all is charity. For charity is the fulfilling
of the heart no less than of the law, if yet it be full
in itself. " God is charity," and there is nothing in
the world capable of filling a creature made to God's
image excepting that alone which is greater than the
creature, viz., the charity which is God. Until this
has been acquired, no man can be appointed to re-
sponsible office without the gravest peril to himself,
whatever other virtues he may seem to possess. If one
should have all knowledge, if he should distribute all
his goods to feed the poor, even should he deliver his
body to be burned, still, without charity he is empty.
Behold now how much has to be poured into us in

has ever been granted transiently to any saint as a viator. The
most probable case seems to be that of St. Paul, when he was
rapt up to the third heaven and "heard secret words which it is
not granted to man to utter." — (Translator.)

TWO OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY GHOST 183

order that we may venture to pour out, giving of our
plenitude, not of our poverty. Firstly, compunction ;
secondly, devotion ; thirdly, the endurance of penance ;
fourthly, the exercise of piety ; fifthly, the fervour of
prayer ; sixthly, the quiet of contemplation ; seventhly,
the fulness of love. " All these things one and the same
Spirit worketh, dividing to everyone according "to the
operation which I have named Infusion. And He does
so in order that the other operation, called Effusion,
may be exercised purely (and therefore securely) for
the praise and glory of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who,
with the Father and the Holy Ghost, liveth and
reigneth for ever. Amen.

SERMON XIX

On the different Motives on Account of which
Christ the Lord is Loved by the various
Choirs of Angels.

" Therefore young maidens have loved Thee."

The loving Spouse continues still to speak; still she
continues to proclaim the praises of her Beloved. And
she appeals for further grace, pointing out that that
which she has already received " hath not been void "
in her. For listen to her now. " Therefore," she
proceeds to say, " young maidens have loved Thee."
As if she should affirm, " not in vain, not without fruit
has Thy name been poured out, O my Beloved, not
in vain has it been poured out and spread abroad on
my breast. Therefore young maidens have loved thee
exceedingly." Wherefore ? On account of Thy name
poured out, on account of the breasts perfumed there-
with. This it is which excites them to the love of the
Bridegroom. This is the cause of their affection for
Him. The Spouse receives an infusion of ointment,
and immediately the " young maidens," who can never
be found far from their mother, inhale the pleasant
odour; and, filled with its sweetness, they exclaim,
" The charity of God is shed abroad in our hearts by
the Holy Ghost Who is given to us." Consequently
the Spouse, commending their devotion, says, "This,
O my Beloved, this is the fruit of the pouring out of

Thy name, that therefore young maidens have loved

184

ON THE DIFFERENT MOTIVES 185

Thee. They experience the sweetness of Thy name
only when poured out, not having capacity to contain
it entire, and hence have they loved Thee. For the
pouring out makes Thy name capable of being con-
tained, and irresistibly amiable ; yet only for " young
maidens." They who are endowed with a greater capa-
city do not need this pouring out, inasmuch as they
can relish Thy name undissolved and entire. Such are
the choiis of angels.

The simple Angel, the lowest celestial creature,* con-
templates with undazzled eye the profound abyss of the
divine judgments. Their sovereign equity ravishes him
with delight. It is his glory, besides, that they are ex-
ecuted and promulgated by his own ministry. And
therefore he has reason to love Christ the Lord. " Are
they not all ministering spirits," writes St. Paul, " sent
to minister for them who shall receive the inheritance of

* The number and names of the angelic orders are gathered
from various parts of the Old and New Testaments. In no
one place are they all mentioned together. We find reference
to eight of the nine in the Pauline Epistles (Heb. ix. 5, Rom.
viii. 38, Colos. i. 16, 1 Cor. xv. 24, Ephes. i. 21, 1 Thess. iv. 15).
The Pseudo-Dionysius, who flourished probably towards the
end of the fifth century, is said to have been the first to group
the choirs in hierarchies, three choirs to each hierarchy, and to
arrange them in the order of dignity now generally accepted :
Angels, Archangels, Principalities, Powers, Dominations, Virtues,
Thrones, Cherubim, Seraphim. It will be seen that St.
Bernard's scheme, which is also that of Popes St. Gregory the
Great and Innocent III., differs somewhat from the Dionysian.
According to this, next above the Archangels come the Virtues,
then the Powers, Principalities and Dominations in order.
In the Prefaces of the Mass only eight choirs are mentioned,
and in this order : Angels, Archangels, Thrones, Dominations,
Powers, Virtues, Cherubim and Seraphim. As to the dis-
tinction between the choirs, St. Thomas teaches that they differ
in their natural and supernatural endowments, and consequently
in the offices to which they are appointed. — (Translator.)

186 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

salvation " ? As we must attribute to the Archangels
something more excellent than what belongs to the
inferior angelic order, I believe that they enjoy the
high prerogative of being admitted more familiarly to
the counsels of Eternal Wisdom, and that they are
commissioned to superintend, with full authority, the
execution of the same, each in its proper place and
time, which privileges are to them a source of joy
ineffable. This is their motive for loving Christ the
Lord. Then, there are those blessed spirits named
Virtues, so called, perhaps, for the reason that they
have been divinely ordained to examine with blissful
curiosity and to admire the constant and hidden causes
of signs and wonders, and to employ with power all
the elements in displaying on earth what prodigies
they pleas? and when they please. These, too, dis-
cover in their proper function a special reason for
loving the " God of Virtues," and for loving Christ
Who is the " Virtue of God." For they find the fulness
of delight and felicity in contemplating the " uncertain
and hidden things of Wisdom " in Wisdom Itself.
They also find the fulness of honour and glory in the
consciousness that the operations and effects of the
causes, concealed in the Divine Word, are exhibited
by their own agency to the contemplation and
admiration of the inhabitants of the earth.

Next in order come the celestial creatures, known
under the name of Powers. These take particular de-
light in viewing and magnifying the divine omni-
potence of the Crucified, which " reach eth from end to
end mightity." They are invested with power to beat
off and vanquish all opposing powers, whether human
or diabolical, in defence of those who have received

ON THE DIFFERENT MOTIVES 187

'• the inheritance of salvation." And have they not
herein most ample cause for loving the Lord Jesus ?
Immediately above the Powers are the Principalities,
who, contemplating the Word from a loftier level,
recognise clearly that He is the First Principle of all
being, and the " First Begotten of every creature," and
they are endowed with such dignity and principality,
that from the apex, so to speak, of the world where
they sit enthroned, they exercise authority throughout
the universe, with power to change and regulate king-
doms, principalities, and dignities of every kind, at
their sole will and pleasure. They are also empowered
to make the first last and the last first, according to
the merits of each, to put down the mighty from their
seat, and to exalt the humble. And this is the motive
of their love for Christ. The Dominations also love the
Lord Jesus. Why ? Because a praiseworthy kind of
presumption leads them to the discovery of certain in-
conceivably subtle and sublime truths relating to His
interminable and irresistible dominion. They marvel to
see Him everywhere throughout the universe, not only
by His power, but also by His presence, and com-
pelling everything, high and low, the revolution of the
seasons, the motions of bodies, the thoughts and emo-
tions of created minds, in the most beautiful order, to
submit to the ruling of His most holy Will. And all this
He does with so much vigilance that no creature in the
whole universe can subtract the least jot or tittle, as
the saying is, from its bounden service ; and yet , with
such ease, that His universal government never causes
Him the slightest disquiet or agitation. When, there-
fore, they, the Dominations, behold the Lord of Sabbath
judging all things with such tranquillity, they are

188 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

transported out of themselves by an extraordinary but
fully conscious stupor of contemplation, infinitely in-
tense and unspeakably blissful, into the limitless ocean
of Light Divine. There they seem to withdraw to a
most secret recess of imperturbable peace, where they
enjoy such calm and quiet, that, whilst they are in
repose, all the other celestial creatures appear to unite
in their service and in defence of their leisure, out of
reverence for their prerogative, and as for true holders
of dominion.

God Himself sits upon the Thrones. :In my opinion,
this choir has greater reason and more numerous
motives for loving Christ the Lord than any of those
already mentioned. If you enter the palace of an
earthly king, amongst the various seats to be seen
there, accommodated to various dignities, you will
notice the royal throne occupying the place of pre-
eminence. You do not neeed to inquire where the
monarch is accustomed to sit, for his will be the first
seat that attracts your attention, being more elevated
and ornate than any of the others. Understand from
this that the choir of Thrones surpass all the rest in
every kind of spiritual adornment, because it is on
them that, by a special favour of amazing condescension,
the Divine Majesty has elected to sit. But this sitting
may be taken to signify the office of teacher. In that
case, I should suppose that Christ, the Wisdom of the
Father, Who is our only Master in heaven and on
earth, although reaching everywhere by reason of His
purity, yet specially and principally illuminates by His
presence this hierarchical order, and thence, as from a
solemn lecture-hall, He" teacheth men knowledge," and
not only men, but the inferior choirs of angels also. For

ON THE DIFFERENT MOTIVES 189

it is thence He communicates to the lowest angelic choir
the knowledge of His judgments, and to the Archangels
the understanding of His counsels. It is there the Virtues
learn what wonders they are to work, at what time, and
in what place. There, in a word, all the other choirs re-
ferred to, Powers, Principalities, and Dominations, are
told their duties and what honours and privileges they
may claim, as belonging to their rank, but above all,
they are cautioned, every one of them, that the powers,
which have been entrusted to them for advancing the
glory of God, must not be employed for the satisfaction
of their own wills, or the procuring of their own glory.
But those heavenly spirits called the Cherubim, if
they really enjoy the privileges indicated by their
name, cannot, as I think receive anything either from
or through the inferior choir of Thrones. For to them
it is given to drink their fill at the very fountain. The
Lord Jesus Himself vouchsates to introduce them
directly into the plenitude of truth, and communi-
cates +o them most generously the " treasures of wisdom
and knowledge " concealed in Himself. Neither do
the Thrones impart any illumination to the Seraphim.
These are so completely drawn into and absorbed in
the furnace of God's love, so inflamed with the fire of
divine charity, that they seem to be but one spirit with
God ; just as ignited gas (aer) receives from the flames
which kindle it not only their intense heat, but even
their colour, and appears to be not so much on fire,
as to be fire itself. Therefore, of the two last-men-
tioned choirs, the former find their chief delight in
admiration of the knowledge of God, " of which th^re
is no number," the latter in contemplating His charity
which " never falleth away." Hence, they derive their

igo ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

respective names irom that particular grace which
seems to be in each order the characteristic and dis-
tinguishing endowment. For Cherub signifies "fulness
of knowledge," whereas Sdaph means " enkindling " or
" inflamed." Therefore, the Angels love God on account
of the perfect equity of His judgments ; the Archangels,
on account of the supreme wisdom of His counsels ; the
Virtues, by reason of His infinite graciousness, which is
exhibited in the display of wonders, calculated to bring
unbelievers to the faith ; the Powers, because of that
exercise of His divinely-just omnipotence, whereby He
defends and protects the good from the cruelty of the
malignant ; the Principalities, on account of that
eternal and primeval efficacy by which He communi-
cates being and th^ principle of being to every creature,
superior or inferioi, spiritual or corporeal, "reaching
from end to end mightily " ', the Dominations, because
of the imperturbable tranquillity of His will, where-
with He rules the universe in the might of His arm,
and the more mightily in proportion to that native
gentleness and unruffled calm by which He " disposeth
all things sweetly " ; the Thrones, for the benevolence
of His illuminating wisdom, extending itself to all
without envy, and for the unction of His grace which
" teach eth of all things"; the Cherubim, b^ause
" The Lord is a God of all knowledge," Who, knowing
what is necessary for the salvation of each, distributes
His gifts as He judges expedient, and with prudence
and providence, amongst those who rightly pray for
them ; finally, the Seraphim love Him, because He is
charity and" hateth none of the things that He hath
made," willing " all men to be saved and to come to
the knowledge of truth."

ON THE DIFFERENT MOTIVES 191

Thus all the angelic choirs love according to their
several capacities. But the " young maidens," with
less understanding, have also less capacity, and are
altogether unable to attain to things so high, for they
are but " little ones in Christ," requiring to be fed with
milk and oil. Hence it is on the breasts of the Spouse
that they must find the motives of theii love. The
Spouse possesses the oil poured out , the perfume of which
arouses in the hearts of the " young maidens " a desire
to " taste and see how sweet the Lord is." And seeing
them inflamed with love, she turns to her Beloved,
and says, "Thy name is as oil poured out, therefore,
young maidens have loved Thee exceedingly*." What
is it, my brethren, to love exceedingly ? It is to love
greatly, passionately, ardently. Oi peihaps in the
spiritual sense of the words, the Holy Ghost conveys
an indirect reproof to some amongst you who are be-
ginners in the religious life, censuring that indiscreet
zeal, or rather that "exceedingly" obstinate impru-
dence of theirs, which I have so often in vain endeav-
oured to repress. To such I say, you are unwilling to
be content with the common life. Yoa are not satisfied
with the regular fasts, with the solemn vigils, with the
ordinary observance of discipline, with the clothes and
food I provide for you. You prefer what is private
to what is common. Why do you thus resume charge
of yourselves after having once and for all committed
that responsibility to me ? For, lo ! you have again
taken as your superior, in place of me, that self-will,
which, as your consciences bear witness, has betrayed

* "Niniis." St. Bernard gives this word as belonging to
the text, but it is found in neither the Hebrew, Greek nor
Latin Version. Cf. A Lapide, Comment, in Cantica, Caput i.
— (Translator.)

192 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

you into so many offences against God. By it you are
taught not to spare nature, not to listen to reason,
not to follow the counsel or the example of the seniors,
not to submit to my authoiity. Are you not aware
that " obedience is better than sacrifice " ? Have you
not read in your Rule * that whatever is done without
the sanction and consent of the spiritual father shall be
attributed to vainglory and shall merit no reward ?
Have you not read in the Gospel the example of obedi-
ence set by the Boy Jesus for the imitation of all other
youths who aspire after holiness ? For when He had
remained behind in Jerusalem, and declared that it
was necessary for Him to be about His Father's busi-
ness, yet, as His parents would not consent to His
staying longer, He did not disdain to follow them to
Nazareth, the Master obeying His disciples, God
obeying man, the Word, the Wisdom of the Father
obeying a poor artisan and his consort ! Nor is this
all. The inspired narrative goes on to say, " And He
was subject to them."

How long will you be wise in your own conceits ?
God commits and subjects Himself to mortals, and will
you still walk in your own ways ? You did indeed
receive a good spirit, but you have made an ill use of
the gift. I am now afraid lest that good spirit
should depart from you and one that is wicked succeed,
who will strive to deceive you with the outward
appearance of virtue, so that having begun in the
Spirit you may end in the flesh. Do you not know
that the angel of darkness frequently " transf ormeth
himself into an angel of light " ? God is Wisdom and

* Holy Rule of St. Benedict, ch. xlix., " On the manner of
keeping Lent."

ON THE DIFFERENT MOTIVES 193

wills us to love Him, not alone sweetly, but wisely as
well. Hence the Apostle speaks of " your reasonable
service." Believe me, if you neglect the knowledge
of truth, the spirit of error will have no trouble in
misdirecting your zeal. For that cunning enemy can
find no more efficacious means of expelling the love of
God from your hearts than by causing you to walk in
it without caution or reason. Wherefore, I am thinking
of proposing to you certain canons of conduct which
those who love God may find it worth their while io
put in practice. But as to-day's sermon has reached
its limits, on the morrow, if God continues to give me
life and leisure for preaching, I will attempt to set them
forth for your consideration. Then, when our bodies
are refreshed by the repose of the night, and (what
is more important) our minds duly reinvigorated by
the tonic of prayer, we shall come again together for
the discourse on divine love, through the favour of
Our Lord Jesus Christ, to Whom everlasting honour
and glory. Amen.

1. N

SERMON XX

On the various Degrees and Characteristics of
. the Love of Christ.

" Therefore young maidens have loved Thee exceedingly."

I will begin, my brethren, with the words of our
master, St. Paul : " If any man love not our Lord
Jesus Christ, let him be anathema." Surely, He is
most deserving of my love, from Whom I have exist-
ence, life, and understanding. If I be ungrateful for
these benefits, I thereby prove myself unworthy of
them. Evidently, he is unworthy to live at all, who-
ever, O Lord Jesus, refuses to live for Thee. Yea, he
is already dead ! And whoso has no understanding of
Thee, is only a fool. And he that desires to exist save
only for Thee, is to be esteemed as nothing, for nothing
he is indeed. But " what is man " apart from the fact *
" that Thou art made known to him " ? Thou, O
God, hast made all things for Thyself. Hence he must
be nothing, as outside this universality of being, who
wants to exist for himself and not for Thee. " Fear
God and keep His commandments," says Solomon,
" for this is all man." But if this is all man, it clearly
follows that, without it, all man is nothing. Bend to
Thyself, O my God, the insignificant little thing which

* That is to say, the only thing of value in man is his knowl-
edge of God. There is question, of course, of supernatural
knowledge, of the faith that worketh by charity. In the same
sense it is said in Ecclesiastes, " Fear God and keep His com-
mandments, for this is all man." — (Translator.)

194

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 195

Thou hast condescended to will I should be. Accept,
I beseech Thee, the years that remain of my miserable
life ; and for those which I have squandered away by
evil living, " a contrite and humble heart, O God,
Thou wilt not despise." " My days have declined
like a shadow," and have passed without fruit. But
as it is impossible now to recall them, let it content
Thee, in Thy gracious mercy, that I recount them to
Thee " in the bitterness of my soul." Then, as regards
understanding, " before Thee is all my desire," and the
intention of my heart. Thou seest that if I possessed
any wisdom I would consecrate it to Thee. But, O God,
" Thou knowest my foolishness." Still, perhaps it is
some wisdom even to acknowledge my foolishness, as I
do in truth by Thy grace. Multiply, O Lord, that grace
in me, since I am not ungrateful for the little I already
possess, but only anxious for that which is still want-
ing to me. Therefore, in return for the benefits of
existence, life, and understanding, I offer Thee all the
love I am capable of.

But there is another incentive to love which has
still greater power to move, and to arouse, and to
inflame me. What makes Thee, O good Jesus, amiable
to me above all things is the chalice Thou didst drain
for us, the work of our Redemption. This easily at-
tracts to Thee all the love of our hearts. This it is,
I say, which most sweetly allures our affectionate de-
votion, most justly exacts it, most forcibly constrains
it, and most powerfully binds it to Thine own Divine
Self. For therein the Saviour had to undergo im-
mense labour. As Creator, the making of the whole
universe did not cost Him the slightest effort. Of that
rrrghty work we read " He spoke and they were

i96 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

made ; He commanded and they were created." But
in order to redeem us, it was necessary for Him to
endure contradiction to His words, criticism of His
actions, mockery in His sufferings, reproaches at His
death. Behold, my brethren, how He loved us ! Re-
member, too, that in this He was not making any
return, but only a further advance of love. For " who
hath first given to Him, and recompense shall be made
to him ? " Rather as St. John Evangelist says, "Not
as though we had loved God, but because He hath
first loved us." Finally, He loved us even before we ex-
isted, and, what is more, loved us when we resisted
His love. Such is the testimony of St. Paul, where he
says, " when we were as yet enemies we were recon-
ciled to God by the death of His Son." For otherwise,
unless He loved us when we were His enemies, He
never could have loved us as His friends ; just as we
should not have existed at all to be the objects of His
love had His love not embraced us when as yet we
were non-existent.*

His love for us is sweetly tender, and wise, and
strong. It showed itself tender, I say, in that it in-
duced Him to assume our flesh. Its wisdom appeared
in His refusing to resemble us in sin. It manifested
its strength by leading Him to die for us. Although
visiting us in the flesh, He did not love us according
to the flesh, but in the prudence of the Spirit. For
" Christ the Lord is a Spirit before our face," jealous
of us " with the jealousy of God," not, mind you, with
the jealousy of man, but " with the jealousy of God," a

* In other words, we owe our Creation as well as our Redemp-
tion and Justification to God's antecedent and gratuitous love
for us. — (Translator.)

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 197

jealousy, therefore, wiser than that which the first
Adam entertained with regard to the first Eve. Conse-
quently, those whom He sought in the flesh, He loved
in the Spirit, and redeemed in His power. It is assuredly
a privilege full of divine sweetness, of inexpressible de-
light, that man should be permitted to see his Maker
in the flesh. But whilst, with divine prudence, He
chose for Himself a nature immune from guilt, He also
with power equally divine, expelled death from that
nature. In assuming flesh He condescended to my
infirmity ; in avoiding sin He looked to the interests
of His own glory ; in submitting to death, He made
satisfaction to His Father's justice, thus exhibiting
Himself as a sweet Friend, a prudent Counsellor, a
powerful Helper. Securely may I entrust myself to
Him, Who has the good will to save me, and the knowl-
edge of the means to be employed, and the power to
put them into execution. After seeking me out, after
calling me to Him, think you He will cast me forth
now when I am answering His summons ? Neither do
I fear that any force or fraud whatever shall be able
to snatch me out of His hand, for He is the Conqueror
of death which had conquered all beside, and, by a
holier craft than Satan used, the Circumvent or of that
old serpent who circumvented the whole world, surpass-
ing the former in powei and the latter in wisdom. He
took on Him indeed the reality of our flesh, but only the
similitude of our sin, thus, at the same time, sweetly
bringing consolation to the weak, and prudently laying
the snare of deception for the demon.

Moreover, in order to reconcile us to the Father, He
underwent and vanquished death by the might of
His fortitude, shedding His Blood as the price of our

i98 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Redemption. Hence, to sum up, had He not loved me
with tender affection, that Divine Majesty would never
have sought me in my prison. But to tenderness of
love He united wisdom, whereby He deceived the
serpent, and to both He added patience, by which He
appeased the anger of His offended Father. Such, my
brethren, are the characteristics of divine love, which I
am under promise to explain, viz., to love with tender-
ness, with prudence, and with strength. And the better
to commend them to your observance, I have begun by
drawing your attention to them as they are exhibited
in the charity of Christ.

O Christians, learn from Christ how you ought to
love Christ. Learn to love Him with a love that is
tender, and prudent, and strong. Unless your love of
the Lord is tender, you may renounce it under the
seductive influence of counter-attractions ; unless pru-
dent, you may be misled, and lose it through fraud ;
unless strong, it will yield to violence. If you wish to
avoid being seduced and alienated from Christ, by the
glory of this world and the delights of the flesh, you
must find in Him Who is the Wisdom ot the Father, a
relish more alluringly sweet than either of these. If
you would not be led astray by the spirit of deceit
and error, Christ, Who is truth, must enlighten your
minds. And lest you sink and faint under adversity,
the same Christ, Who is the Power of God, must
strengthen and support you. Let your zeal borrow
fervour from charity, light from knowledge, strength
from constancy. Let it be ardent, let it be prudent,
let it be unconquerable. Let it be equally free from
sloth, from temerity, and from timidity. And consider
now, if these qualities of love, namely, tenderness,

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 199

prudence and constancy, be not prescribed in the Law,
where God gives the command, " Thou shalt love the
Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole
soul, and with all thy strength." It appears to me
(although perhaps some of you can discover a more
reasonable explanation of this threefold distinction)
that love of the heart refers to ardour or tenderness in
our affection, and love of the soul to the activity or
judgment of our reason ; whilst love of our strength
may possibly relate to constancy or vigour of mind.
Therefore, love the Lord with the full and entire affec-
tion of your hearts, that is to say, tenderly ; love Him
with all the vigilance and circumspection of your under-
standing, and so prudently ; love Him with your whole
strength, so that you may be ready even to give your
lives for His love. Thus we read in a subsequent verse
of this Canticle, " for love is strong as death, jealousy
as hard as hell." My brethren, let the Lord Jesus be
sweet and agreeable to your affections, in order that
He may serve you as a counter charm against the dan-
gerously attractive delights of the flesh. Let sweetness
be overcome by sweetness, as one nail drives out another.
But Jesus must also be the guiding Light of your in-
tellects and the Director of your minds, not only that
you may avoid the contemptible frauds * of heretical
deception, and preserve the purity of your faith from
its cunning impostures, but also to enable you to walk
with caution, guarding yourselves against indiscreet and
excessive zeal in your conversation. And your love of
Him ought, moreover, to possess strength and con-
stancy, neither yielding to fears nor fainting under

* The Henrician and other heiesies of St. Bernard's time
were but a recrudescence of Manicheism. — (Translator.)

200 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

labours. Let us, therefore, love Jesus tenderly, wisely,
and strongly, as knowing that the love of the heart,
which I describe as tender, is sweet indeed, but liable
to seduction if unaccompanied by what I call the love
of the soul ; just as this, without the love of strength,
is prudent certainly, but lacking in vigour.

I will prove to you by evident examples the truth of
what I have been saying. When the disciples were
grieving at the thought of losing their Master, Who
had been speaking to them of His Ascension, He said,
" If you love Me you would rejoice because I go
to the Father." What ! Is it meant that they had
no love for Him Whose departure they so bemoaned ?
No, my brethren, but they loved Him in one way,
and in another they did not love Him. I mean, they
loved Him tenderly, but not prudently. They loved
Him according to the flesh, not according to reason.
They loved Him with their whole hearts, yet not with
their whole souls. Such love was an obstacle to their
perfection. Hence He told them, " It is expedient for
you that I go," whereby He censured, not the tender-
ness, but the imprudence of their affection. On another
occasion, when He was speaking of His approaching
death, and Peter, out of love, attempted to hold Him
back and was making opposition to His purpose, in the
reproof, wherewith, as you remember, He checked the
Apostle, what else did He condemn but his imprudence ?
For what means the expression, " Thou savourest
not the things that are of God," except this, " thou
lovest not wisely, following human affection to the dis-
regard of the divine counsel " ? And He called Peter

* The word Satan in the Hebrew means an adversary. —
(Translator.)

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 201

Satan, because like an adversary,* albeit unwittingly,
he was placing obstacles in the way of his own and our
salvation, by trying to hinder the Saviour's death.
Hence, after this correction, when Christ was again
making allusion to the same sad subject of His Passion,
the disciple no longer raised any objection, but rather
promised to die with Him. But the promise was not
fulfilled, because he had not yet attained to that
third degree of charity in which we love with our whole
strength. He had been taught to love with his whole
soul, but his love was still weak. He had received
light enough to know his duty but not, as yet, enough
spiritual strength to act up to his knowledge. He was
not so much in ignorance of the mystery of Redemption
as in terror of the pains of martyrdom. Manifestly, that
love was not " strong as death," which yielded to the
fear of death. But it became so afterwards, when
Peter, fortified with virtue from above, according to
the promise of Jesus Christ, began to love with so
much strength, that, when forbidden by the Jewish
Council to preach the holy name, he boldly replied,
" we ought to obey God rather than men." Then in
truth he loved with all his strength, when he was willing
to sacrifice even his life for his love, since " greater
love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his
life for his friends." For although he did not then
actually lay down his life, he at least exposed it to
imminent danger. Therefore, to love with one's whole
heart, with one's whole soul, and with all one's strength,
is to love with a love that can neither be seduced by
pleasure, nor deceived by error, nor overpowered by
the violence of any persecution.
And take notice that the love of the heart is, in

202 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

some sense, carnal, because it tends to turn the hearts
of men towards the Flesh of Christ, and towards His
example and precepts, given in the flesh. One that is
filled with this love is easily affected by every dis-
course on such subjects. There is nothing he more
willingly hears, more attentively reads, more frequently
calls to mind, more affectionately ponders. With this
love, as with the fat of the " fatted calf," he enriches his
holocausts of prayer. He has before his mind, as he
prays, the sacred image of the God- Man, in the manger,
or on His mother's breast, or teaching, or dying, or
, rising from the tomb, or ascending into heaven. Every
such representation must necessarily urge his soul to
the love of virtue, or help to repress the carnal passions,
put temptations to flight, and extinguish evil desires.
To my thinking, this appears to have been one of the
main reasons why the invisible God willed to appear
in visible flesh, and as Man to converse amongst men,
that, namely, He might draw all the affections of carnal
men, who knew how to love only in a carnal manner,
first to a salutary love of His own Flesh, and thence
lead them gradually to a more spiritual love of His
Divinity.* Was not the former the degree of charity
in which they still stood, who said, " Behold we have
left all things and followed Thee " ? Surely we must
admit that it was the love of Christ's sensible presence
alone that had led them to leave all things, since they
could not listen patiently to a single word about His
saving Passion and death before the events, nor after-

* Similar to this is what we find in St. Gregory the Great,
homilia n in Evangelia: "The kingdom of heaven is likened
to earthly objects in order that the soul may be led by means
of familiar and sensible things to the knowledge and the love
of things spiritual and invisible." — (Translator.)

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 203

wards witness even the glory of His Ascension without
oppressive sorrow. This is what He Himself meant
when He said, " Because I have spoken these things
to you, sorrow hath filled your heart." Thu?, it was as
yet only by the power and the grace of His own presence
in the flesh that He had withdrawn them from all
other love according to the flesh.

Afterwards, however, He pointed out to them a more
excellent degree of charity in the words : " It is the spirit
that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing." That
degree, as I think, had already been reached by St.
Paul, when he wrote, " And if we have known Christ
according to the flesh ; but now we know Him so no
longer." Perhaps the Prophet Jeremias also stood in
the same degree, who said, " A Spirit before our face
is Christ the Lord." For the words added, " under Thy
shadow we shall live amongst the Gentiles," he seems
to me to have spoken in the person of beginners, sig-
nifying that they who did not yet feel strong enough
to bear the heat of the sun, should at least find rest
in the shadow. In other words, that they should
nourish themselves with the sweetness of the Flesh
who are not able as yet to perceive " the things
that are of the Spirit of God." The shadow of Christ,
I take it, is that Flesh of His which overshadowed even
His mother, and by its opacity, as by a veil interposed,
tempered for her the burning heat and dazzling splen-
dour of the Spirit. Therefore, in this love of the Flesh
let him find, meantime, his consolation who has not
yet received the vivifying Spirit, at least in that way
in which He was possessed by those who said, " A
Spirit before our face is Christ the Lord," and "if we have
known Christ according to the flesh, but now we know

204 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Him so no longer." For it is quite certain that only
in the Holy Ghost can Christ be loved at all, even ac-
cording to the flesh, and even with a love less full than
the love of the whole heart. Nevertheless, the whole
capacity of our hearts ought to be the only measure of
this carnal love, whose sweetness should fill them' to
overflowing, and so wean them away from the love of
all other flesh and of the delights of the flesh. For it
is thus only that we love with our whole hearts. Other-
wise, by preferring any connexions or gratifications of
my own flesh to the Flesh of my Lord, and thus failing
in the perfect observance of those things which He,
whilst still in the flesh, taught me by word and example,
I make it clearly manifest that I do not love Him with
my whole heart. For my heart being divided, I appear
to be giving one part of it to the love of His Flesh, and
appropriating the other to the love of my own. Yet
He has said, " He that loveth father or mother more
than Me is not worthy of Me ; and he that loveth son
or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me." In
short, therefore, to love Him with our whole hearts is
to prefer to all carnal satisfactions, whatever and
whencesoever they may be, the love of His most holy
Flesh. And with carnal gratifications I include also
worldly glory, both because the glory of the world is
the glory of the flesh, and because those who take
delight in such glory are, without any doubt, carnally
minded.

This devotion to Christ's sacred Flesh is, conse-
quently, a gift, and a great gift, of the Holy Spirit.
Nevertheless, I have called it carnal in comparison
with that love which has for object not so much the
Flesh of the Word as the Word under the aspect of

ON THE LOVE OF CHRIST 205

Wisdom, of Justice, of Truth, of Sanctity, of Piety, of
Power, and of the various other Divine Attributes.
For Christ rather is than has all these Perfections,
" Who of God is made unto us Wisdom, and Justice, and
Sanctification, and Redemption. " Now, do you think,
my brethren, that these two persons are equally and
similarly affected towards Him — he who lovingly com-
passionates the sufferings of Christ, who is easily moved
to compunction and other such emotions at the thought
of all He endured for us, who feeds his soul with the
sweetness of this devotion, and thence derives energy for
every salutary, good, and pious exercise ; and he who is
always inflamed with the zeal for justice, who is every-
where jealous of the interests of truth, who is eager in
the pursuit of wisdom, loves sanctity of life and probity
of morals, who proclaims by his conduct his dislike of
boasting, his horror of detraction, his ignorance of envy,
his detestation of pride, his, not only aversion, but even
scorn and contempt for vainglory, his utter hatred and
intolerance of all manner of uncleanness in himself,
and, in a word, his almost natural and instinctive ab-
horrence of all that is evil and delight in aJl that is
good ? Comparing together these kinds of love, does
it not appear evident to you that, in relation to the
latter, the former is at least in some sense carnal ?

A good thing, however, is this carnal love of Christ,
enabling us, as it does, to live, not a carnal, but a
spiritual life, and to conquer and contemn the world.
As it progresses it wiD become rational, and will have
reached its perfection when it changes to spiritual.
Love is then rational when, as regards all points of
Christian doctrine, it clings with such tenacity to the
orthodox faith, that by no counterfeits of truth, by

206 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

no heretical or rather diabolical circumvention can it
be seduced in the least from the purity of Catholic
teaching ; and when, in private life, it is so observant
ol caution as never to transgress the limits of modera-
tion by any extravagance, levity, or the impetuosity
of an excessively ardent spirit. This is, as I have
already said, loving God with one's whole sou]. Should
there be added to our love such vigour from the sup-
porting Spirit that no difficulties, no toiments, no
terrors of death shall avail to turn us aside from
the paths of justice, then we shall love With all our
" strength," and our love will be spiritual. For the
epithet spiritual belongs especially to this love, on
account of the fulness of the Spirit which is its pre-
rogative and its distinguishing excellence.

So much must suffice on the words of the Spouse,
" Therefore, young maidens have loved Thee exceed-
ingly." With regard to what follows, may the treasures
of divine mercy be graciously opened to us, by Him
Who is their Custodian, Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who
liveth and reigneth with the Father and the Holy
Ghost , one God for endless ages. Amen.

SERMON XXI

In what manner the Spouse, that is the Church,
desires to be drawn to her beloved.

" Draw me ; we will run after Thee to the odour of Thy ointments."

" Draw me; we will run after Thee to the odour of

Thy ointments. " What ? Has the Spouse need to

be drawn ? — need to be drawn after her Beloved ?

As if, forsooth, she followed Him reluctantly, and not

rather most eagerly ! But not everyone that is drawn,

is drawn unwillingly. The weak and the ailing, unable

of themselves to go to the bath or the banquet, are

not displeased at being drawn thither ; although, on

the other hand, it is doubtless against their will that

malefactors are drawn to judgment and punishment.

Further, it is evident the Spouse desires to be drawn,

since she prays for this. But she would not make

such a petition, if, of herself, she were able to follow

her Beloved as she wished. But why has she not this

power ? Are we to say that even the Spouse is infirm ?

Had one of the " young maidens " confessed herself

weak and begged to be drawn, we should not have felt

any surprise. But who does not find it hard to believe

that the Spouse herself, as if sick and feeble, has really

need of being drawn, whereas she seemed to be strong

and perfect enough to be able to draw others ? What

certainty can we have now of the health and strength

of any soul, if we admit infirmity even in her, who,

by reason of her singular perfection and more excellent

207

208 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

virtue, is honoured with the name of Spouse of Christ ?
But, perhaps, the Church spoke thus when she beheld
her Beloved ascending into heaven, expressing in those
words her ardent desire to follow and to be assumed
with Him to glory ? And yet every soul, without ex-
ception, to whatever perfection she may have attained,
so long as she groans in the " body of this death," and
is kept confined in the prison of this wicked world,
burthened with infirmities, tortured with the memory
of her sins — every soul, I say, has to submit to the
necessity of mounting to the contemplation of things
divine by ascents too slow and gradual for the eager-
ness of her desires. For she does not as yet enjoy the
liberty of following the Bridegroom " whithersoever He
goeth." Hence that tearful cry of lamentation, " Un-
happy man that I am, who will deliver me from the
body of this death ? " Hence, too, that suppliant
prayer, " Bring my soul out of prison." Therefore, let
the Spouse also say with tears, " Draw me after Thee,"
because " the corruptible body is a load upon the soul,
and the earthly habitation presseth down the mind
that museth upon many things." Or, it may be, these
are the words in which the Church gives expression to
her desire "to be dissolved and to be with Christ."
Especially, as she observes, that they, for whose sake
it seemed necessary that she should still abide in the
flesh, are now progressing favourably in the love of
the Bridegroom, and are firmly rooted and grounded in
charity. It was to call attention to this, that she pre-
mised the words, " Therefore, young maidens have loved
Thee." In this sense, then, she seems to say, " Behold
the young maidens have loved Thee, and in love are
securely united to Thee, and hence, have no longer any

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 209

need of me. And as there is now no reason for pro-
longing my sojourn on earth, draw me after Thee."

This latter I should take to be her meaning, had her
prayer been, "Draw me to Thee." But because she
says " after Thee," I am more inclined to think her
request is that she may be given the strength to follow
the footprints of His, the Bridegroom's, example, and
the grace which would enable her to be emulous of His
virtues, to direct herself by the rule of His life, and to
conform her own to His divine character and disposi-
tion. For in this she is especially in want of assist-
ance, in order that she may be able to deny herself,
and to take up her cross and so follow Christ. Herein
the Spouse has certainly need to be drawn, and to be
drawn by none else than by Him Who said, " Without
Me you can do nothing." " I know," she seems to
avow, " I know that I can by no means attain to Thee,
except by walking in Thy footsteps. But even this I
am unable to do without Thy help. Therefore, I beg
that Thou wouldst draw me after Thee. For ' blessed
is the man whose help is from Thee ; in his heart he
hath disposed to ascend by steps in the vale of tears,'
and is destined, sooner or later, to come to Thee on
the mountains of unending bliss." How few are they, O
Lord Jesus, who desire to follow Thee ! And yet there
is none without the wish to attain to Thy presence,
since everyone knows that " at Thy Right Hand
are delights, even unto the end." Hence it is that
all yearn to enjoy Thee, though not all are willing to
imitate Thy example. All long for a share in Thy
kingdom,* but all are not desirous to participate in

* " Jesus has now many lovers of His heavenly kingdom, but
few are willing to bear His cross ; Pie has many that are desirous
1, o

210 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Thy cross. Such, for instance, was Balaam, who prayed,
" Let my soul die the death of the just, and my last
end be like to them." He wished to resemble the just
in their end, but not in their beginnings. So, too,
carnal men, who abhor the spiritual life, still would
like to die like spiritual persons, knowing how "precious
in the sight of the Lord is the death ot His saints."
For " when He shall give sleep to His beloved, behold
the inheritance of the Lord ! " And again, " Blessed
are the dead who die in the Lord." On the other
hand, according to the Psalmist, " The death of the
wicked is very evil." They are at no pains to seek
Him Whom they would be glad enough to find. They
would wish to overtake without the labour of pur-
suing. Not so those to whom the Lord said, " And
you are they who have continued with Me in My temp-
tations." O sweetest Jesus, happy are they who are
accounted worthy of such testimony from Thy divine
Lips ! They in truth followed after Thee, both with
their feet and with their affections. Thou didst make
known to them the ways of life, calling them after
Thee Who art the Way and the Life. And Thou didst
say, " Come ye after Me, and I will make you to be
fishers of men." Also, " If any man minister to Me,
let him follow Me, and where I am, there also shall
My minister be." Therefore they could say, as it
were, glorying, " Behold, we have left all things, and
have followed Thee."

In the same way, then, Thy beloved Spouse, having
left all things for Thee, desires to be ever led by Thee,

of comfort, few of tribulation. All desire to rejoice with Him,
few to suffer with Him " (Imitation oj Christ, Bk. II. ch. ad.). —
(Translator.)

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 211

to be ever walking in Thy footsteps, and to follow Thee
whithersoever Thou goest. For she knows well that
" Thy ways are beautiful ways, and all Thy paths peace-
ful," and that whoso follows Thee " walketh not in dark-
ness." But she asks to be drawn, because " Thy justice
is like the mountains of God," for climbing which her
own strength is not sufficient. She prays to be drawn,
as being aware that " no one cometh " to Thee unless
Thy " Father shall draw him." But whomsoever Thy
Father draweth, these Thou Thyself dost also draw ;
" For the works which the Father doth, these the Son
also doth in like manner." And she more boldly begs
to be drawn by the Son, as by her own Bridegroom,
sent by the Father to meet her on the road, as a Guide
and Director, Who should walk before her in the way
of moral discipline, should smooth for her the path of
virtue, " instruct her as Himself," and give her " a
law of life and instruction," and all to the end that
" the King might desire her beauty."

" Draw me after Thee ; we will run to the odour of
Thy ointments." Therefore do I require to be drawn,
because the fire of Thy love has grown cold within
us, and " before the face of cold " like this we cannot
run now, as we did yesterday and the day before.
But we shall run again hereafter, when Thou shalt
restore to us " the joy of Thy salvation " ; when the
happy season of grace shall return, when the Sun of
Justice shall again grow warm and drive away the
clouds of temptation which, for the time being, seem
to overcast and to hide from us His Face ; when at
every gentlest stirring of the more balmy summer air
the ointments shall begin to liquify, and the aromatic
spices to flow and to give out their fragrant odour. Then

212 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

shall we run, we shall run to that odour. We shall
run, I say, to the perfume of the ointments, because
our present torpor shall have vanished, giving place
to devotion, so that we shall no longer require to be
drawn ; for under the attraction of the odour, we shall
run forward of ourselves. But meantime " draw me
after Thee ; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments.,,
Do you not see, my brethren, that he who walks in the
Spirit cannot possibly remain always in the same state,
nor always advance with the same facility, and that
the way of man is not in his own power, but accord-
ing as the Spirit, Who remains Master of His graces,
is pleased to dispense them with varying degrees of
generosity, the soul, at one time more sluggishly, at
another with greater alacrity, "forgetting the things
that aie behind stretcheth (herself) forth to those that
are before" ? I believe that what you now hear me
speaking of exteriorly, you may learn interiorly from
the testimony of your conscience.

Therefore, when you perceive yourselves to be affected
with languor, sloth, or disgust, do not on that account
lose confidence or desist from your application to
spiritual things. Rather seek for the supporting hand
of the Spirit (after the example of the Spouse) begging
Him to draw you, until, aroused by grace from the
state of torpor, and rendered more alert and active,
you will commence to run again, and to say, " I have
run in the way of Thy commandments, when Thou
didst enlarge my heart." Yet, when grace is present,
enjoy it in such a way as not to lancy you possess it
by hereditary right.* I mean to say, do not be so

* " Therefore, when God gives spiritual consolation, receive
it with thanksgiving ; but know that it is the bounty of God, not

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 213

secure of it as if it could never be taken from you.
Otherwise, when God withdraws His hand and de-
prives you of His gift, you will suddenly lose heart
and become unduly depressed and discouraged. Do
not say in thy " abundance, I shall never be moved,"
lest you be compelled with tears to say also what
follows, " Thou didst turn away Thy Face and I became
troubled." Rather be careful, according to the advice
of the Wise Man, " In the day of good things to be
not unmindful of evils, and in the day of evils, to be
not unmindful of good things."

Be not, consequently, too secure in the day of thy
strength, but, with the Prophet, cry out to God, " When
my strength shall fail me, do not forsake me." And
similarly take comfort in the time of temptation, saying
with the Spouse, " Draw me after Thee ; we will run
to the odour of Thy ointments." Thus you shall not
lose hope in the evil day, nor foresight in the good.
Amidst the prosperities and adversities of this changeful
existence, you will exhibit in yourselves an image, so to
speak, of the changeless eternity, by this unalterable and
imperturbable equanimity of a constant soul, " blessing
the Lord at all times," and despite the uncertain events
and the certain failures of this mutable life, gradually
bringing yourselves to a condition of what I may call
fixed and stable immutability ; whilst you are, at the
same time, beginning to renew and restore in your-

thy merit . . . When comfort shall be taken away from thee,
do not presently despair. . . . One said at the time when grace
was with him, ' In my abundance I said I shall never be moved ' ;
but when grace was retired, he tells us what he experienced in
himself,' Thou hast turned away Thy face from me and I became
troubled ' " (Imitation, Bk. II. ch. ix.; cf. alsoBk. III. ch. vii.). —
(Translator.)

214 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

selves that primordial and glorious likeness to the
Eternal God, " in Whom there is no change, nor
shadow of vicissitude." For as He is in His eternity
so will you be even in this world, invincibly
equable, neither cast down in adversity nor elated
in prosperity. Herein, I ray, the noble rational crea-
ture, made to the image and likeness of his Creator,
shows that he is retrieving and recovering the dignity
of his ancient honour, in that he judges it unworthy
of him to be conformed to the fashions of this
fleeting world, and rather strives, according to the
injunction of St. Paul, to be reformed in the newness
of his mind, unto that image, in which, as he knows,
he was created. And thus, as is proper, he will force
the world, which was made for his sake, by a mar-
vellous reversal of relations, to accommodate itself to
him. For having put off the form of corruption and
reassumed that which is proper and natural to him,
" all things shall now begin to co-operate unto good for
him" in whom they shall recognise, as it were, their
lord for whose service and enjoyment they were created.
Hence, I believe that what the Only-Begotten said
of Himself, viz., that if He were "lifted up from the
earth," He would " draw all things "to Himself, can
be applied equally well to all His brethren, to those,
namely, whom the Father "foreknew and predestined to
be made conformable to the image of His Son that He
might be the First- Begotten amongst many brethren."
Therefore, even I shall make bold to say, that " I, if I
be lifted from the earth, will draw all things to myself."
Do not suppose, my brethren, that I act rashly in appro-
priating to myself the words of One Whose likeness I
have put on. And since this is so, let not the rich of this

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 215

world imagine that the brethren of Christ possess only
the goods of heaven, because they hear the Master
saying, " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is
the kingdom of heaven." Let it not be thought, I
repeat, that heavenly treasures alone are held by these
poor, because only such are mentioned in the promise.
Earthly things, too, are possessed by them, who, " as
having nothing, possess all things." They do not beg
for such, as the involuntarily poor, but they own
them as lords, and the more truly lords of them
the less they desire them. In fact, the whole
world, is the treasure of the faithful soul. The
whole world I say, because both its goods and its
evils are equally her servants and co-operate for her
unto good.

The avaricious man, like the beggar, hungers for the
riches of earth ; but the spiritual man, as their lord, de-
spises them. The former has to beg for them whilst pos-
sessing them ; the latter by despising them, preserves
them. Ask one of those who, " with insatiable heart,"
yearn after temporal lucre, what he thinks of such as
sell what they have, and give to the poor, bartering
earthly possessions for the kingdom of heaven. Ask
him whether or not they do wisely. " Wisely, indeed,"
he will doubtless answer. But ask why he does not
himself do that which he approves : " I cannot," will
be his answer. Why ? Because his mistress, avarice, will
not suffer him. Because he is not free. Because those
things which he appears to possess are not really his own.
Because he is not even his own master. Thensay to him :
If it be thine own, put thy money out at interest, and
transform earthly into heavenly treasures. If thou
canst not do this, then acknowledge that thou art less

216 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the master than the slave of thy riches, less the owner
than the custodian. Thou art even conformed to thy
purse as a slave to his mistress; because, just as the
slave must rejoice or grieve with his rejoicing or griev-
ing mistress, so dost thou in thy soul swell with elation
or shrink under depression, in haimony with the varying
bulk of thy money-bags. For thou dost contract with
grief according as these contract with expenditure ;
and art rilled with joy or, at any rate, inflated with
pride, in proportion as they are replenished with profits.
Such is the life of him who makes himself a slave to
avarice. But let us, for our part, endeavour rather to
emulate the freedom and constancy of the Spouse, who,
instructed in all things, " and learned in heart in
wisdom," knows how to abound and how to suffer
want. When she asks to be drawn, she shows that
what is wanting to her is not money but virtue. Again,
in consoling herself with the hope of a return of giace,
she proves that, though fainting, she has not lost
confidence.

She says, therefore, " Draw me after Thee ; we will
run to the odour of Thy ointments." And what wonder
that she requires to be drawn, whilst she runs after a
Giant, whilst she is trying to overtake Him Who " leaps
in the mountains, Who leaps over the hills " ? " His
Word," says the Psalmist, "runneth swiftly." She is
not able to keep up with Him ; she cannot keep pace
with One Who " exult eth as a giant to run His course."
That is to say, she cannot do this of her own strength,
and hence she request? to be drawn. " I am tired,
she seems to say, " I am fainting from fatigue. Do
not abandon me, but draw me after Thee, lest I begin
to ' wander after other lovers ' and ' run as at an uncer-

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 217

tainty.' Draw me after Thee, since it is better for
me that Thou shouldst draw me, even forcibly, either
by terrifying me with threats or chastising me with
scourges, than, by sparing me, permit me to enjoy a
dangerous security in my sloth. Draw me, even against
my will, that I may be made willing. Draw me, even
in my sluggishness, that I may learn how to run of
myself. The time will come when I shall no longer
need to be drawn, for we shall run willingly and with
all alacrity. I shall not run alone, although alone I
ask Thee to draw me. With me shall run the young
maidens. We shall run side by side. We shall run
together ; I to the odour of Thy ointments, they as
being stimulated by my example and encouraged by my
exhortation. And so we shall all run to the odour of Thy
ointments." The Spouse has imitators of herself, just
as she is an imitator of Christ. Hence she does not
say, " I shall run," but " we shall run."

But the question here arises, when she prays to be
drawn, why does she not likewise include the " young
maidens " in her petition, and say, " draw us," instead
of " draw me"? Or are we to suppose that, whereas
the Spouse has need to be drawn, the " young maidens "
labour under no such necessity? O Bride of Christ,
beautiful, blessed, and blissful, explain to us the mean-
ing of this distinction. " Draw me," thou implorest.
But why " me " rather than " us " ? Is it that thou
dost envy us, the " young maidens," so great a grace ?
God forbid ! For hadst thou desired to follow thy
Beloved alone, thou wouldst not have immediately
added that the " young maidens " would run with
thee. Why, then, dost thou ask to be drawn in the
singular, and straightway, speaking in the plural, say

218 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

" we will run " ? " Charity," she answers, " so requires.
Learn from me by these words that in your spiritual
exercises you must hope for a twofold heavenly grace,
viz., correction and consolation.* The former is ex-
teriorly administered, the latter visits you interiorly.
The one restrains your boldness, the other props up
your hope. Correction engenders humility, consolation
supports pusillanimity. By the first you are made
cautious, by the second devout. The one teaches you
the fear of the Lord, the other tempers that fear by
an infusion of spiritual delight, as it is written, ' Let
my heart rejoice that it may fear Thy name.' Also
' Serve ye the Lord with fear, and rejoice unto Him
with trembling.' "

We are drawn, my brethren, when we are exercised
by temptations and tribulations. We run, when visited
by interior consolations and inspirations, thus inhaling,
as it were, the delicious odour of the Bridegroom's
ointments. "Therefore," says the Spouse, "whatever
seems hard and austere, I keep for myself, as being
strong, and whole, and perfect ; and so I say in the
singular, ' draw me.' But all that is pleasant and sweet,
I share with you who are weak, and hence I add ' we
shall run.' Well do I know how tender and delicate
these * young maidens ' are, and how unfitted to endure
the force of temptations. And therefore it is that I want
them to run with me, but not to be drawn with me. I
wish to have them as partakers of my consolation, but
not of my labour. Wherefore ? Because they are weak,
and I fear lest they should faint, lest they should

* " I am accustomed to visit My elect two manner of ways,
viz., by trials and by comforts ; and I read them daily two
lessons, one to rebuke their vices, and the other to exhort them
to the increase of virtues " (Imitation, Bk. III. ch. iii.). —
(Translator.)

SPOUSE DESIRES TO BE DRAWN 219

succumb. Let me, O my Beloved ! " she exclaims, " let
me be corrected, let me be tried, let me be tempted —
1 draw me after Thee,' ' for I am ready for scourges,'
and able to bear them. But we shall run together.
Let only me be drawn, but we shall run together. We
shall run, yes, we shall run, but ' to the odour of Thy
ointments,' not through confidence in our own merits.
It is not in the magnitude of our strength that we hope
to run, but in the ' multitude of Thy tender mercies.'
For whenever, even in the past, we have run or pos-
sessed a good will, it was ' not oi him that willetb, nor
of him that runneth, but of God That sheweth mercy.'
Only let the same mercy again visit us and we shall run
again. Thou as a Giant, and as a Mighty One, runnest
in Thy strength. But we shall not run at all unless
drawn by the perfume of Thy ointments. Thou dost
run in the virtue of that ' oil of gladness ' with which
the Father ' hath anointed Thee above Thy fellows.' We
can only run to the odour of that ointment, for Thou
hast the fulness and we but the odour." Now would
be the time, my brethren, to discharge the obligation
which I remember to have undertaken long since
with regard to the ointments of the Bridegroom, but
to-day's sermon has already transgressed its limits.
Therefore I will postpone to another time the promised
exposition, for it would be doing an injury to the dignity
and importance of the subject to attempt to compress
it within a space of inadequate extent. Pray ye, there-
fore, the Lord of the ointments that He would deign
" to make pleasing the voluntary offerings of my
mouth," in order that I may be able to engrave deeply
upon your minds the memory of that abounding sweet-
ness of His, which is treasured up in the Bridegroom
of the Church, Christ Jesus Our Lord. Amen.

SERMON XXII

On the Four Ointments of the Bridegroom and
the Four Cardinal Virtues.

" Draw me ; we will run to the odour of Thy ointments."

If, my brethren, the ointments of the Bride are so
exceedingly precious and magnificent, as you learned
was the case when I was treating of them, what are
the Bridegroom's likely to be ! And although I am
quite unequal to the task of describing and explaining
these in a manner worthy of their intrinsic nobility,
nevertheless, the greater excellence of their virtue and
the superior efficacy of their grace may be clearly
inferred from this single fact, that the sweetness of
the odour they exhale causes to run, not alone the
" young maidens," but even the Spouse herself. For,
as you may have noticed, she does not promise any
such effect in the case of her own ointments. She does
indeed glory in and boast of their excellence, but she
does not pretend that she has been excited to run by
them, or that she would be so at a future time. It
is only with regard to her Beloved's ointments that
that she makes such a claim or promise. And if she
can thus be induced to run by the exhilarating influ-
ence of so slight a perfume, wafted to her senses from
the unction, what would she not do were she to feel
the ointment itself poured out upon her ? It would
surely be strange if she did not fly. But perhaps some
of you may feel tempted to say to me, " Have done

220

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 221

with commendations. When thou proceedest to ex-
plain to us in what the essence and nature of these
ointments consist, it shall then be sufficiently evident
what kind their properties are." No, my friends. I
can by no means undertake to give you any such ex-
planation. And I must ask you to believe me when I
confess that I am not even sure as to whether those
things, which I feel suggested to my mind and am going
to speak of, are really the ointments of the Bride-
groom, or merely the creations of my own fancy. In
my opinion, then, the Bridegroom possesses numerous
spices and unguents of various kinds. Of these there
are some whose fragrance it is given onty to the Spouse
to enjoy, because of her singular intimacy and famili-
arity with Him. The perfumes of others reach the
" young maidens." Others again diffuse their sweet
odours even to those who are far remote and extern,
so that " there is none who can hide himself from His
heat." But although "the Lord is sweet to all," He
is so " especially to those of the household " ; and , as
I think, the nearer the soul approaches Him by the
merit of her life and the purity of her conscience, the
fresher are the spices and the sweeter the ointments
whose perfume she is permitted to inhale. Further-
more, in such matters the understanding is altogether
unable to transcend the bounds of experience. And I
am not so rash as to arrogate to myself that which is
the prerogative of the Spouse. None but the Bride-
groom Himself can tell with what infusions of spiritual
delight He ravishes the soul of His best-beloved, with
what aromas of sweetness He intoxicates her senses,
with what inspirations He wondrously illuminates and
refreshes her mind. Let Him have for her as for His

222 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

own Bride a private fountain of graces, in which the
stranger shall have no shaie, nor shall the unworthy
drink thereof. For it is a " Sealed Fountain," a " Garden
Enclosed." Still, the waters flow forth therefrom into
all the public ways. These waters, I confess, are always
within my reach and at my service, provided no man
shows discontent or ingratitude when I draw from the
common source for the use of myself and others. Now,
with your good leave, I will, after the example of St.
Paul, commend " my ministry in this part a little."
To me, then, it is certainly something of a weariness
and a labour to go forth day by day * to draw from the
common streams of Holy Scripture, in order to minister
to the wants of all of you, so that each may have at
hand a supply of spiritual water for his every need,
viz., for cleansing, for drinking, or for preparing his
food. For the word of God is the salutary water of
wisdom, useful not only for drinking, but also for
purifying. Hence the Lord said, " And you are clean
because of the word which I have spoken to you." But
the same divine word may be employed to cook the
crude thoughts and feelings ot the carnal mind, using
the fire of love kindled by the Holy Spirit, and trans-
forming them in the process into spiritual reflections
such as may serve as nourishment for the soul, so that
she may exclaim with the Psalmist, " My heart grew
hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall break
out."

Those amongst you, my brethren, who by reason
of the great purity of their conscience, are
able of themselves alone to attain to loftier

* We have here evidence that St. Bernard was in the habit of
preaching daily to his community. — (Translator.)

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 223

things than I am engaged in treating of,
shall certainly encounter no opposition from me.
On the contrary, I offer them my sincere con-
gratulations. But I expect that they, on their side,
will suffer me to provide simpler fare for souls more
simple. Oh, who will grant me that you may all so
abound with the light of the Holy Spirit as to be quali-
fied to discharge even the functions ot the prophetic
office ! Would to God the case were so ! Then there
would be no necessity for me to occupy myself with
these instructions. Would to God that this duty had de-
volved on some other ! Or, at any rate — which, indeed,
I should much prefer — that none of you stood in need
of such instruction, but were " all taught of God," so
that I might '* be still and see " that the Bridegroom
of my soul is none other than my Maker. But now,
in the meantime — although I am unable to say it with-
out tears — it is not permitted me to seek after, much
less to contemplate " the King in His beauty," " seated
upon the Cherubim," " sitting on a throne high and
elevated," in that Divine Form in which He was be-
gotten, equal to the Father " before the day-star, in the
brightness of the saints," in which the angels desire to
behold Him, God with God. Yet, a man myself, I will
speak to men of Him as Man, according to the human
form wherein, of His exceeding condescension and
charity, in order to reveal Himself to us, He made
Himself a " little less than the angels," and " hath set
His tabernacle in the sun, and He as a Bridegroom
coming out of His bridal-chamber." I will speak of
Him rather as sweet than as sublime, rather as anointed
than elevated. I will speak of Him as anointed by the
Spirit and " sent to preach the Gospel to the poor, to

224 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

heal the contrite of heart, to preach a release to the
captives, and deliverance to them that are shut up, to
proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."

Leaving, then, to each whatever more sublime and
delicate perfumes, so to speak, of grace and sanctity
it may have been given him to feel and to enjoy from
the Bridegroom's ointments, I shall expend for the
common use what I have received from the common
source. For the very " Fountain of life," the " Sealed
Fountain " issuing forth from the interior of the
" Garden Enclosed," through the orifice of St. Paul's
mouth, as being truly that wisdom, which, according
to the words of holy Job, " is drawn out of secret
places " — this Fountain, I say, divides its waters into
four streams and through these pours itself out upon
the common ways. There it represents to us Him,
Who for us has been "made of God Wisdom, and
Justice, and Sanctification, and Redemption." These
four streams are also four most precious ointments.
For there is nothing to prevent the same thing being
conceived as both water and ointment, watei in so far
as it cleanses, ointment inasmuch as it perfumes.
From these streams, therefore, which are at the same
time odoriferous ointments, produced from celestial
elements on the aromatic hills, such an odour of sweet-
ness filled the nostrils of the Church, that, attracted in
her members by the sweetness of the fragrance from the
four corners of the world, she hastened to her Beloved,
as being indeed that " queen of the south " who hurried
from the ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon,
drawn by the pleasant odour of his fame.

It is clear that the Church was not able to run to the
odour of her Solomon, until He, Who from eternity was

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 225

the Wisdom of the Father, was made by the Father

Wisdom also in time, tor her sake, in order that she

might enjoy His divine fragrance. So, too, was He made

Justice, and Sanctification, and Redemption, all for her,

that she might also run to the odours of such ointments,

though in Himself the Bridegroom was all these equally

from all eternity. For even " in the beginning (He) was

the Word." Yet it was only after the announcement of

His having been made Flesh that the shepherds came

in haste to see Him. They said to each other, " Let

us go over to Bethlehem and let us see this Word that

is come to pass which the Loid hath made and hath

shewed to us/' And the Evangelist adds that " they

came in haste." Previously, whilst the Word was

only with God, they could not move at all. But when

the Word, Which was in the beginning, was made Flesh

in time, was made Flesh and shown to them by the

Lord, then " they came in haste," then they ran. And

just as He was the Word in the beginning, but was the

Word with God only, and was made Flesh that He

might be also the Word with men ; in the same way,

He was in the beginning Wisdom, and Justice, and

Sanctification, and Redemption, yet to the angels

only. But that He might be so to men as well He

was made all these by the Father, forasmuch as He is

a Father. " Who was made," says the Apostle, " for

us Wisdom of God." He does not say simply " Who

was made Wisdom," but " Who was made for us

Wisdom." For what He was to the angels already,

that He now was made for us.

But some of you may say, " I fail to see how He

was Redemption to the angels. For there is nothing

anywhere in the Holy Scriptures to show that they
1. p

226 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

were ever captives to sin or subject to death, so as to
be in need of redemption, except indeed those who, by
committing the irremediable sin of pride, placed them-
selves beyond all hope of redemption. Thus, therefore,
the angels have never been redeemed, some not need-
ing it, others undeserving oi it ; some because they never
fell, others because their fall was irrevocable. How,
then, canst thou assert that the Lord Jesus has been
to them Redemption ? " My answer shall be short.
He who lifted up man after his fall, gave to the angel
who stood that he should not fall, preserving the latter
from the same captivity from which He delivered the
former. In this way, then, He was equally Redemption
to both, by preventing sin * in the one case, and re-
mitting it in the other. Hence it is evident that Christ
the Lord was Redemption to the angels, as He was
Justice, and Wisdom, and Sanctification. And, never-
theless, these four things He was visibly made for the
sake of men who can clearly see the invisible things of
God only as "understood by the things that are made."
Thus He was made for us all that He was for the angels.
What is that ? It is Wisdom, and Justice, and Sanc-
tification, and Redemption. Wisdom in His preaching,
Justice in the remission of sin, Sanctification in His
familiar intercourse with sinners, Redemption in His
Passion endured for sinners. When, therefore, He was
made all these "of God" then the Church perceived
His odour, then she began to run.
Contemplate, now, my brethren, this fourfold unction.

* In the same way John Duns Scotus showed that our Lady's
Immaculate Conception was quite consistent with the univer-
sality of Redemption. But the idea of preventive Redemption
was no discovery of the Irish Doctor, as some have supposed.
The above passage makes that clear. — (Translator.)

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 227

Consider the abounding and inexpressible sweetness of
Him Whom the Father " hath anointed with the oil
of gladness above His fellows. " Thou wert sitting, O
man, in darkness and in the shadow of death by reason
of thy ignorance of the truth. Thou wert seated in
fetters, bound with the chains of thy sins, and He
descended to thee into the prison, not to torture thee,
but to rescue thee from the power of darkness. First
ot all, as the Doctor of truth, He dispelled the clouds
of thy ignorance by the light of His own wisdom. Next ,
by the " justice which is of faith," He loosed the bonds
of sin, "justifying the sinner freely." By these two
benefits was fulfilled the word of David, " The Lord
looseth them that are fettered ; the Lord enlighteneth
the blind." To these He added the example of His
holy life, lived amongst sinners, thus exhibiting to them
a model for their imitation, and, as it were, marking
out the way whereby they might return to their father-
land. Lastly, to crown the largesses of His piety, He
delivered up His Soul to death for them, and from His
own Heart produced the price of their redemption and
of their reconciliation with the Father. In this way,
He plainly appropriated to Himself the verse, " With
the Lord there is mercy, and with Him plentiful re-
demption." Plentiful surely, for not in drops, but in
streams, the Precious Blood issued through the Five
Wounds of His Sacred Body.

My brethren, what ought He to have done for us,
and has not done it ? He has enlightened our blindness,
He has loosed our bonds, He has brought us back from
our wanderings, He has made satisfaction for our sins.
Can anyone be unwilling to run gladly and eagerly
after Him who delivers us from present errors and over-

228 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

looks all those of the past, Who by His life wins for us
merits and by His death obtains rewards ? What excuse
can he have who does not run to the odour of these
ointments, unless perchance he be one whom the odour
has not reached ? But that odour of life has gone out
over the whole earth, because " the earth is full of the
mercy of the Lord," " and His tender mercies are over
all His works." He, therefore, who is not sensible of
this vivifying fragrance everywhere diffused, and hence
does not run to it, is either corrupt or a corpse. This
odour is the good fame of Christ, which spreads itself
abroad like a sweet perfume, exciting us to run, leading
us to the experience of His unction here, and to the
vision of Him as our reward hereafter. All who enjoy
that bliss, all who have attained to that crowning
vision, cry out exult ingly, with one acclaim, " As we
have heard, so we have seen in the city of the Lord of
Hosts." Yes, O Lord Jesus, we will run after Thee,
on account of the sweetness which is proclaimed to be
characteristic of Thee, for we are told that Thou dost
not spurn the needy nor abhor the guilty. Thou cer-
tainly didst not show any abhorrence of the confessing
Thief, nor of the weeping Magdalen, nor of the sup-
liant Canaanite, nor of the woman taken in sin, nor of
him that sat in the Publican's office, nor of that other
Publican who prayed in the temple, nor of the Apostle
who denied Thee, nor of Paul, the persecutor of Thy
followers, nor even of those who nailed Thee to the
cross. Yes, we will run to the odour of such examples,
of such ointments ! We also inhale the sweet perfume
of Thy wisdom from what we have heard, namely,
that if any one wants wisdom, he has only to ask it
of Thee, and Thou wilt give it to him. For we are told

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 229

that Thou givest to all abundantly and upbraidest
not. But so great and all-pervading is the odour ex-
haling from Thy justice that Thou art called, not just,
but Justice Itself, and Justifying Justice. And as able
as Thou art to justify Thou art equally " bountiful to
forgive." Wherefore, whoever feels compunction for
his sins, and hungers and thirsts after justice, let him
believe in Thee Who justifiest the impious, and thus,
justified by faith alone,* he shall have peace with God.
Not alone Thy life, but even Thy conception is most
sweetly and abundantly redolent of the fragrance of
Thy sanctity. For Thou wert as free from inherited
as Thou art from personal guilt. Let those, therefore,
who, justified from their sins, desire and determine to
pursue after holiness, without which no one shall see
God, let such, I say, listen to Thee commanding, " Be
ye holy, because I am holy." Let them consider Thy
ways and learn of Thee, because Thou art just in all
Thy ways and holy in all Thy works. Oh, how many
have been induced to run by the most sweet odour of
Thy redemption ! Ever since Thou wert lifted up
from the earth, Thou surely hast been drawing all
things to Thyself. Thy sacred Passion is our last
refuge, our sole remedy. When wisdom is wanting to
us, when justice falls short, when the merits of sanctity
fail to secure us, even then we find support and deliver-
ance in Thy Passion. For who can presume on his own
wisdom, or justice, or sanctity as sufficient to save him ?
Hence the Apostle, " not that we are sufficient to think
anything of ourselves, as of ourselves, but our suffici-
ency is from God." Therefore, " when my virtue fails,"

* That is, by " the Faith which worketh through charity,"
and so includes the practice of all the virtues. — (Translator.)

230 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

I shall not lose peace, I shall not lose confidence. " I
know what I will do " : " I will take the chalice of
salvation, and I will call upon the name of the Loid."

0 Lord, enlighten my eyes, "that I may know what
is acceptable with Thee at all times." So shall I be
wise. " The sins of my youth and my ignorances do
not remember." So shall I be just. " Conduct me, O
Lord, in Thy way," and so I shall be holy. Yet, after
all, unless Thy Blood makes intercession for me, I shall
not be saved. It is because of all these odours that we
run after Thee. Grant our petitions and so send us
away, because, like the Canaanite woman, " we cry
after Thee."

But, my brethren, we do not all run equally to the
odour of all the ointments. You may observe some
more ardent in the pursuit of wisdom, others more
incited to penance by the hope of pardon, others again
more drawn to the practice of virtue by the example
of the Saviour's life and conversation, still others
more inflamed with love by the memory of His Passion,

1 think I can present you with instances of persons
specially attracted in these several ways. They ran to
the odour of His Wisdom, who, sent to Him by the Phar-
isees, reported on their return that " never man spoke as
this Man." For, being filled with admiration of His doc-
trine, they acknowledged the greatness of His Wisdom.
To the same odour ran holy Nicodemus who, though he
" came to Jesus by night," indeed, yet walked in the re-
splendent illumination of Divine Wisdom, and returned
instructed and enlightened about many things. Mary
Magdalen, to whom " many sins were forgiven, because
she hath loved much," ran to the odour of His Justice.
Just and holy she was in truth, and no longer a sinner,

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 231

so as to deserve the reproach of the Pharisee, who
knew not that justification and sanctity are the gifts
of God, not the works of man ; and that he to whom
the Lord imputes not sin, is not only just, but blessed
as well. Or had this Simon forgotten how Christ, by
His touch, had healed instead of contracting the cor-
poreal leprosy of himself or of some other Simon ? For
the Just One, when touched by the sinner, did not
lose, but communicated, His justice ; nor did He soil
Himself with the filth of sin from which He cleansed
the penitent woman. To this odour also ran the
Publican, who, after humbly imploring pardon for his
sins, " went down to his house justified," as Justice
Himself bears witness. To the same ran St. Peter.
For after his fall " he wept bitterly," in order to wash
away his sin, and recover grace. David, too, ran to
this odour, when, by acknowledging and confessing his
fault, he deserved to hear from Nathan, " the Lord
also hath taken away thy sin." St. Paul testifies of
himself that he ran to the odour of Sanctification, when
he boasts that he is " an imitator of Christ," saying
to his disciples, " Be ye imitators of me, as I also am
of Christ." To the same ran all the Apostles, who
said, by the mouth of Peter, " Behold we have left
all things, and have followed Thee." The desire, that
is to say, of following Christ, led them to abandon all
else. All men in general are invited to run to this
odour by the words of St. John, "He who saith he
abideth in Him, ought himself also to walk, even as
He walked."

Now, if you wish to know who they are that ran to
the odour of Redemption, I tell you, my brethren, that
these are all the martyrs. Thus I have set forth for

232 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

you the four precious ointments of Wisdom, Justice,
Sa ratification, and Redemption. Remember their
names, and enjoy their odours. But do not ask me
about the manner of their composition, nor about the
number of spices from which they are produced. For,
as regards the ointments of the Bridegroom and the
elements thereof, such questions are not so easy to
answer as in the case of the unguents and spices of the
Spouse, of which I have treated in an earlier sermon.
The reason is that in Christ these ointments are without
either number or measure ; since " of His Wisdom there
is no number " ; and " His Justice is as the mountains
of God," as the eternal hills ; and His Sanctity is infinite,
and His Redemption ineffable.

This also I must say : Vainly have the wise of this
world disputed so much concerning the four cardinal vir-
tues, which they were quite incapable of understanding,
since they knew not Him " Who for us was made
Wisdom of God " to teach us prudence, and Justice
to satisfy for our sins, and Sanctification to give us
in His mortified life an example of temperance, and
Redemption to exhibit to us in His patiently-suffered
death a model of fortitude. But perhaps some one
will say to me, " Thy other remarks are well enough,
but it hardly seems proper to refer sanctification to
the virtue of temperance." To this I reply, first, that
temperance and continence are one and the same
thing ; secondly, that it is usual in Scripture to put
sanctification for continence or purity. Then, what
else are those numerous sanctifications prescribed by
Moses except so many purifications, or exercises of
temperance in food, and drink, and such like? But
above all, hear how familiar it is with the Apostle to

ON THE FOUR OINTMENTS 233

use or to intend the word sanctification in this sense.
" This," he says, " is the will ol God, your sanctifica-
tion, that every one of you should know how to possess
his vessel in sanctification and honour, not in the
passion of lust." Again, " For God hath not called us
unto uncleanness but unto sanctification." Evidently,
in these passages sanctification is put for temperance.

Having now, as I hope, placed in light what appeared
to be somewhat obscure, I return to the point whence
I digressed. To the worldly-wise pagans, therefore, I
say, what have you to do with the virtues, who know
not Christ, the " Virtue of God " ? Where, T ask, will
you find real prudence, except in the doctrine of Christ ?
Where true justice, save from the mercy of Christ ?
Where true temperance, except in the life of Christ ?
And where true fortitude, but in the Passion of Christ ?
Consequently, only they deserve to be called prudent,
who are instructed in His doctrine. Only they just,
who, of His mercy, have obtained forgiveness of their
sins. Only those temperate, who study to imitate the
example of His life. And those alone possessed of
fortitude who, in adversity, conform with constancy to
the model of His patience. It is vain, therefore, for
anyone to labour for the acquisition of virtues, if he
expects to obtain them otherwise than from Him Who
is named the " Lord of Virtues," and Whose doctrine
is the seed of prudence ; Whose mercy, the source of
works of justice ; Whose life, the mirror of temperance,
and Whose death is the glory and the model of
fortitude.

To Him be honour and glory for endless ages. Amen.

SERMON XXIII

On the Mystical Meaning of the Garden, the
Storeroom, and the Bedchamber.

•' The King hath brought me into His storerooms ; we will be glad
and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more than wine.

"The King hath brought me into His storerooms."
Behold, my brethren, the source of the odour ! Be-
hold the goal of the running ! The Spouse has already
told us that we are to run, and after what odours we
are to run ; but not till now has she mentioned whither
we are to direct our running. Therefore, she now ex-
plains that we are to run to the King's storerooms, and
under the influence of the odours proceeding thence ; tor
she, with her wonted sagacity, has been the first to detect
the fragrance and is eager for admission to its source, so
that she may enjoy the fulness thereof. But what are
we to understand by these storerooms ? For the present
let us consider them as the Bridegroom's sweet-smelling
promptuaries, so to speak, filled with odoriferous fruits
of the soil, replenished with all manner of delights. It
is in storehouses of this kind that all the more precious
produce of the field and the garden are hoarded up and
preserved. Here, then, is the goal of the running.
But who are they that run ? They are souls that are
fervent in spirit. The Spouse runs, and so do the
"young maidens." But the former runs more swiftly
because she loves more ardently, and so reaches her
destination more speedily. On her arrival, far from

234

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 235

meeting with a repulse, she is not even kept waiting.
The door is opened to her without delay, as to one of
the household, as to one most tenderly and especially
beloved, and most warmly welcomed. But what about
the "young maidens"? They are following indeed,
but far behind. For, being as yet weak, they cannot
keep pace with the devotion of the Spouse, nor emulate
her desire and her fervour. Therefore, thev arrive later
and remain outside. But the charity of the Spouse is
not at rest nor, as commonly happens, is she so elated
with her good fortune as to forget them. Rather she
consoles them and encourages them to bear with pati-
ence and equanimity both their disappointment and
their separation from herself. She also tells them of
the happiness she enjoys, for no other reason than that
they may rejoice with her, because they feel firmly
persuaded that, whatever graces and favours are be-
stowed upon their mother, they have a right to regard
as in some sense their own. For she is not so intent
upon her own advancement as to neglect the care of
them, nor does she wish to procure any advantage to
herself or to her private interests at their expense.
Therefore, no matter how high above them the superi-
ority of her merits raises her, she will most certainly
feel obliged, through her charity and tender solici-
tude, to remain always with them. For it behoves
her to emulate the example of her Beloved. And as
He, whilst ascending to heaven, promised nevertheless
to abide on earth with His disciples, even to the con-
summation of the world, so should she also combine a
care for others with zeal for her own spiritual progress.
Hence, whatever her distance from them, however far
advanced beyond them, she can never lay aside her

236 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

care, and her solicitude, and her affection for those
whom she has brought forth in the Gospel ; she can
never forget her own flesh and blood.

She says to them, therefore, " Rejoice and have con-
fidence. The King hath brought me into His store-
rooms. Consider yourselves introduced likewise. I,
indeed, appear to be the only one brought in, but I
am not the only one deriving benefit therefrom. For
every advantage to me belongs equally to all of you.
It is for you I advance, and amongst you I will share
whatever beyond you I may chance to merit." Do you
wish, my brethren, to know for certain that she spoke
to them in this sense and with such loving affection ?
Then, listen to their reply : " We will be glad and re-
joice in thee." "In thee," they say, "we will be glad
and rejoice, since we have not yet deserved to experi-
ence such emotions in ourselves." And they immedi-
ately add, "remembering thy breasts." As if they
should say, " Yes, we will patiently await thy coming,
knowing that thou wilt return to us with full breasts.
Then we hope to be glad and to rejoice ; meanwhile
we console ourselves with the memory of thy breasts."
The words added, "more than wine," indicate that,
by reason of their imperfection, they still relish the
memory of carnal delights, yet acknowledge that the
desire of these has been overcome by the abundant
sweetness, which, as they know by experience, issues
forth from the breasts of the Spouse. I should now dis-
course at length on these breasts, only that I recollect
having treated of them sufficiently in a previous sermon.
But see now how the young maidens presume with their
mother, and how they reckon as their own her joys and
her gains, and generously console themselves for their

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 237

disappointment in not obtaining admittance by the
thought of her success. Certainly, they could not be
so bold with her, did they not recognise in her a mother.
Attend to this, ye prelates, who are always ready to
inspire your flocks with fear, but seldom to do them a
service. " Receive instruction, ye that judge the earth."
Learn how you ought to be the mothers rather than
the masters of these committed to your care. Study,
therefore, to make yourselves more loved than feared ;
and if, sometimes, there is need of severity, let it be
the severity of a parent, not that of a tyrant. Show
yourselves to be mothers in love and fathers in correc-
tion. Cultivate meekness, restrain your anger, put
away the scourge of discipline and offer instead the
breasts of affection. And let these breasts be enlarged
with an abundance of milk, not dilated by the force
of passion. Why do you lay your heavy yoke upon
the people whose burdens it is rather your duty to bear ?
Why is it that the little one, bitten by the infernal
serpent, avoids manifesting his condition to the priest,
to whom he ought to run with more eagerness than to
his mother's breast ? If you be spiritual persons, in-
struct such in the spirit of mildness, each looking to
himself, " lest he also be tempted." Otherwise, he " shall
die in his iniquity," says the Lord, "but I will require
his blood at thy hand." But of this later.

Now we have to try and discover what is the spiri-
tual signification of these storerooms, as the literal
sense of the text is manifest enough from the foregoing
observations. In the following verses, theie is mention
of a garden and of a bedchamber. I intend to treat of
both of these in my present discourse, in connexion
with the storerooms. For, by considering them together,

238 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

We shall be able to make each of the three throw
light on the others. And first, if you please, we shall
seek in the Holy Scriptures for these three things, viz.,
a garden, a storeroom, and a bedchamber. For the
soul that thirsts after God gladly rests and lingers in
His inspired word, knowing that therein, without any
doubt, she shall find Him for Whose company she
yearns. Let the garden, then, symbolise the simple
plain, historic sense. Let the storeroom represent the
moral signification, and let the bedchamber typify the
secret meaning only revealed to divine contemplation.
Not without reason, as I think, is the historic sense
compared to a garden, because in it we find men of
virtue, like to fruit-trees in the garden of the Bride-
groom, in the paradise of God, from whose virtuous
actions and holy lives we may gather the fruits of good
examples. Does any one doubt that the good man is
a tree planted by the hand of God ? If so, let him
listen to David, "And he shall belike a tree which is
planted near the running waters, which shall bring forth
its fruit in due season, and his leaf shall not fall off."
Hear Jeremias singing in concert, in the same Spirit,
and almost in the same words, " And he shall be as a
tree that is planted by the waters, that spreadeth out
its roots towards the moisture, and it shall not fear
when the heat cometh." Again the Psalmist, "The
just shall flourish like the palm-tree ; he shall grow
up like the cedar of Libanus." And again of himself,
" But I (am) as a fruitful olive-tree in the house of
God." The Scripture history, then, is a garden, and
contains three divisions. In it are comprised the Crea-
tion of heaven and earth, the Reconciliation, and the
Restoration. Creation may be considered as the sowing,

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 239

or the planting of the garden, and Reconciliation as the
growth of what has been sown or planted. For in the
fulness of time, when the heavens dropped down dew
from above and the clouds rained down the Just, the
earth opened and budded forth the Saviour, by Whom
was effected the Reconciliation of heaven and earth.
"For He is our peace, Who hath made both one,"
" making peace through the Blood of His cross, both
as to the things on earth, and the things that are in
heaven." The Restoration is reserved until the end of
the world. For then there shall be a "new heaven
and a new earth," and the good shall be collected
from out the midst of the wicked, as fruit from the
garden, to be laid up in the divine storehouses. "In
that day," so Isaias, "the bud of the Lord shall be
in magnificence and glory, and the fruit of the earth
shall be high." You have, consequently, three distinct
departments in this garden of the historic sense.

In the moral signification, likewise, three things have
to be noticed, as it were three cellars in the same store-
house. And perhaps this is the reason why we have
" storerooms " in the plural, rather than "storeroom,"
to indicate, namely, the number of cellars. Hence,
later on, we shall hear the Spouse boasting of the fact
that she has been brought into the wine-cellar. We are
told in Proverbs, " Give occasion to a wise man, and
wisdom shall be added to him." Therefore, as the Holy
Spirit has given the occasion in the name which it has
pleased Him to impose on this cellar, let us not hesitate
to give names to the other two also, calling one the
cellar of spices and the other the cellar of unguents.
The reason of such appellations I will explain after-
wards. Observe, meantime, how everything about the

240 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Bridegroom is sweet and health-giving : wine, and oint-
ments, and spices. "Wine," as the Scriptures bear
witness, "rejoiceth the heart of man." We read also
that he "maketh his face cheerful with oil," which oil
has been mixed, no doubt, with odoriferous elements,
so as to make of it an ointment. The aromatic spices
are not only prized for the sweetness of their fragrance,
but also for their medicinal properties. Good reason,
therefore, had the Spouse for boasting of her admission
into those cellars which are filled with such abounding
treasures of grace.

But I have other names besides for these three
cellars, which, it seems to me, are even more evidently
applicable than those I have just explained. To pro-
- ceed in due order, I call the first cellar Discipline, the
second Nature, and the third Grace. In the first we
learn, according to the rules of sound morality, how to
be subject to others ; in the second, how to be equal,
in the third, how to be superior. In plainer words, we
learn how to live under others, how to live on terms of
equality with others, and how to rule over others. Or
again, we are taught in the first the duties of subjec-
tion ; in the second, the duties of equality ; and in the
third, the duties of superiority. Therefore, Discipline
teaches us how to be disciples, nature how to be equals,
and Grace how to be superiors. By nature, indeed, all
men were made equal.* But their natural perfection

* " Omnes homines natura aequales genuit." That is to say,
all men are equal specifically and in the abstract, as equally
participating in the same human nature, and all enjoy equal
specific rights. But in the concrete — to quote Dr. Ryan — " men's
natural rights are unequal, just as are the concrete natures from
which they spring . . . men are equal as regards the number of
their natural rights. The most important of these are the right

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 241

having been corrupted by pride, they grew impatient
of this original equality, endeavoured to rise each above
the other, and desired to surpass each other, led on by
the love of vainglory to mutual envy and jealousy. In
the first place, therefore, and in the first cellar, the wan-
tonness of our manners and characters must be kept
in restraint by the yoke of discipline, until the will, its
obstinacy having been worn away, as it were, by the
friction of the hard and long-pressing precepts of our
superiors, shall thus be humbled and healed, and re-
cover that natural integrity which it lost through pride.
Then, when we have learned to live peaceably and soci-
ably, as far as it depends upon us, with all who share
our common nature, namely, with all men, and that
not through fear of correction, but solely from a senti-
ment of natural affection — then, I say, we shall pass
from the cellar called Discipline into that of Nature.
Here we shall experience the truth of what is written,
" Behold how good and pleasant it is for brethren to
dwell together in unity, like precious ointment on the
head ! ': For to disciplined morals, as to sweet spices
pounded together, there is added now the oil of glad-
ness, that is to say, the perfection of our nature is

to life, to liberty, to livelihood, to property, to marriage, to
religious worship, to moral and intellectual education. These
inhere in all men, without distinction," but have not necessarily
the same extension or content in all, such extension being
determined by the special circumstances of each individual.
This is the sense in which we must interpret the above-quoted
sentence of St. Bernard, unless we wish to regard him as the pre-
cursor of Hobbes, Rousseau, Paine, and the present-day
prophets of anarchy and socialism, who maintain the absolute
equality of all men, and, whether by accident or otherwise, have
selected his very words to epitomise their doctrines. The same
words have also found their way into the American " Declara-
tion of Independence." Cf. Hickey, Ethica, p. 200. — (Translator.)
«• Q

242 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

restored, and the result is an ointment exceedingly
"good and pleasant."

This unguent renders a man sweet and mild, makes
him such that he never complains, never overreaches,
never strikes or otherwise injures anybody, never
boasts or prefers himself to anyone and, moreover, he
enters gladly into the kindly intercourse of friendship
which consists in the interchange of all good offices.

If you have well understood the properties of these
two cellars, I think you must admit that not alto^
gether fanciful are the names I have given them, call-
ing the first the cellar of spices, and the second the
cellar of unguents. For, just as the violent pounding
of the pestle presses and squeezes out the essence and
fragrance of the aromatic elements, so does the force
of authority and the pressure of discipline in the cellar
of spices beat out and extract, so to speak, the natural
excellence of good morals. In the cellar of unguents
flows that pleasing and spontaneously obliging sweet-
ness of a free and, as it were, instinctive affection,
like the ointment on the head, which, at the slightest
touch of heat, trickles down and spreads itself over the
whole body. Hence, the aromatic elements are con-
tained in the cellar of Discipline, but as yet dry and
uncompounded ; and this is my reason for naming it
the cellar of spices. In the second cellar, which I
have called Nature, the conf ected ointments are stored
up and preserved ; to this fact it owes its name of the
cellar of unguents. And I think the third has been
called the wine-cellar, for no other reason than because
it contains the wine of zeal, fervescent with charity.
He who has not yet deserved to be introduced into this,
ought not by any means to undertake the government

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 243

of others. For every ruler should be aglow with this
wine, as was the Doctor of Nations when he exclaimed,
" Who is weak and I am not weak ? Who is scandal-
ised and I am not on fire ? " Otherwise, you act very
wickedly in seeking to govern those whom you feel
no desire to benefit ; and by insisting too ambitiously
on the submission to your authority of men for whose
salvation you have no concern. To this cellar I have
given the second name of the cellar of Grace, not indeed
as if even the other two can be attained without grace,
but because of the plenitude of all graces, which is
received in this alone. For " Charity is the fulfilling
of the law." And it is also written that " he that
loveth his neighbour hath fulfilled the law."

You now understand, my brethren, the signification
of the names. Let us consider next the difference be-
tween the cellars. For it is a truth of experience that
we do not possess the same ease and capacity for living
at peace with our companions, united in the bonds of
spontaneous affection, and for repressing with the fear
of the master, and restraining with the sharp curb of
discipline, the petulance and inconstancy of the senses,
and the inordinate desires of the flesh. It is one thing
to live a well-ordered life under the government of a
watchful superior, and quite another to exercise charity
habitually in our dealings with our brethren, solely in
obedience to the promptings of our own wills. And
surely no one would say that it is a matter of equal
merit and of equal virtue to live in peace and harmony
with our equals, and to govern wisely and with ad-
vantage to the governed. How many there are who
lead a quiet life under the eye of a superior, yet whom,
if released from the yoke of subjection, you would find

244 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

incapable of repose, incapable even of keeping them-
selves from doing harm to their brethren ! How many
also do you behold conversing with their equals sin-
cerely and without offence, who, if raised to the rank
of superior, would show themselves to be not only
useless, but devoid of good sense, and even wanting in
probity ! Persons of this description have in their own
place all that they require, and so should find content-
ment in that mediocrity of goodness which God has be-
stowed upon them as their measure of grace. They do
not indeed any longer need the watchful supervision of
a master, but neither are they qualified to act as the
masters of others. Hence, they surpass in moral ex-
cellence those who belong to the first class or cellar, and
are still subject to discipline, but they are themselves
surpassed by those of the third class, by those, that is,
who possess the qualities requisite in a superior. Such
as these, who know how to govern well and wisely, have
received the promise that they shall be set over all the
goods of their Lord. It is indeed a fact that there are
but few who can govern with advantage to their sub-
jects, and fewer still who can govern with humility.
Nevertheless, that superior shall easily fulfil these two
conditions of good government, ruling with profit to his
inferiors without spiritual loss to himself, that superior,
I say, who, after perfectly acquiring the virtue which
is mother of all the others, that is, the virtue of dis-
cretion, is furthermore inebriated with the wine of
charity, to the extent of despising his own glory, and
forgetting himself and his personal interests.

It is only in the wine-cellar this wine can be ob-
tained, and only under the admit able direction of the
Holy Ghost. Without the fervour of charity, discretion

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 245

is unfruitful and sluggish ; whilst, unless tempered with
discretion, the impetuosity of fervour easily induces
precipitation. Worthy of admiration, therefore, is he
to whom neither of these virtues is wanting, so that
discretion is enlivened by fervour, and fervour held
in check by discretion. Such, my brethren, is the
character which superiors ought to possess. In my
opinion, he has completely attained to the perfection
both of morals and of discipline, to whomsoever it has
been granted to pass through and around all these
cellars without hindrance. I mean, he who in no parti-
cular either resists his superiors, or envies his equals ;
who governs without pride and without neglect of his
subjects ; who is obedient to those over him, con-
descending and useful to those under him, and agree-
able to his equals. The glory of such perfection I have
not the slightest hesitation in attributing to the Spouse.
Nay, she even implicitly claims it for herself, when she
boasts that "The King hath brought me into His
storerooms." For here she does not assert that she
has been introduced into this or that particular store-
room ; but simply says, speaking in the plural, " into
His storerooms," which must be taken to mean all.

Let us come now to the bedchamber. What does it
symbolise ? And am I so presumptuous as to imagine
I can comprehend its meaning ? Far be it from me to
make pretensions to so sublime an experience, or to
boast of a prerogative which belongs exclusively to the
happy Spouse. According to the counsel of the Greek *

* Socrates is said to have summed up his teaching in the two
words, " yvSiBi aeavTov " (know thyself), all wisdom consisting
in self-knowledge. This celebrated precept has been attributed
to each of the Seven Sages, and even to Apollo's own daughter,
the mythical Phemonoe, for which reason it was inscribed over

246

ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

w

A*

philosopher, I take care to know myself, that, with the
Prophet, " I may also know what is wanting to me."
And yet if I knew nothing about the bedchamber, I
surely could say nothing. What knowledge I have, I
will not begrudge nor withhold from you. And as to
that whereof I am ignorant, may He instruct you
" Who teacheth knowledge to man." I have observed,
if you recollect, that it is in the privacy of loving con-
templation we must look for the King's bedchamber.
And in speaking of the ointments, I remember to have
said that the Bridegroom possesses many and various
unguents, and that all these are not equally accessible
to all, but his own to each, according to the diversity
of merits. In the same way, I think that the King
has not one but several bedchambers. For certainly
there are more than one queen, there are many wives
(concubince) and an innumerable throng of young
maidens. Each of these has her own place for private
intercourse with the Bridegroom, and says, " my secret
to myself, my secret to myself." Not all are permitted
to enjoy in the same chamber the delightful and secret
I presence of the Beloved, but each in that only which
has been prepared for her by the Father. For it is
not we that have chosen Him, but He hath first chosen
us and appointed us our several places. And where-
soever each has been put by Him, there he ought to
remain. Thus, to one contrite woman was given a
place at the Feet of the Lord Jesus. Another, if indeed
another and not the same, enjoyed the fruit of her
devotion at His Head. St. Thomas obtained the grace

the portico of Apollo's temple at Delphi. The reader will
recall St. Augustine's beautiful prayer, "Let me know Thee,
my God, let me know myself " (noverim Te, noverim me). —
(Translator.)

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 247

of this secret in the Saviour's Side, St. John on His
Breast, St. Peter in the Father's Bosom, St. Paul in
the third heaven.

Which of us, my brethren, is competent to distinguish
accurately these varieties of merits, or rather of rewards ?
Lest, however, we should seem to have passed over
that which we do know, I say that the first woman
sought her repose in the security of humility, the second
in the seat of hope, St. Thomas in the solidity of faith,
St. John in the breadth of charity, St. Paul in the pro-
fundity of wisdom, St. Peter in the light of truth.
Thus, therefore, has the Bridegroom many mansions,
and every soul, whether a queen, or a wife, or one of
the young maidens, obtains there the place and the
limit proportionate to her merits, until it be permitted
her to ascend higher by contemplation, to enter into the
joy of her Lord, and to search out all the delightful
secrets of her Beloved. This I will endeavour to explain
more clearly in its proper place, according as the Spirit
shall condescend to inspire me. Meantime, let it suffice
us to know that none of the young maidens, none of
the wives, none even of the queens, can have any access
to that secret bedchamber, which, alone of its kind, the
Bridegroom has reserved to His " beautiful dove," His
" perfect one." Hence, I have no reason to complain
of not being admitted thither, especially since I know
that the Spouse herself cannot, as yet, attain to every
secret she would wish to discover. For she demands
to be informed " where He feedeth, where He lieth in
the mid-day."

But let me tell you what I have attained to, or rather
what I believe myself to have attained to. And you
must not regard as a boast this communication, which

248 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

I make only for your good. There is in the home of
the Bridegroom a certain place where, as Governor of
the universe, He frames His decrees, and disposes His
counsels, appointing to all creatures their laws, their
weight, measure, and number. It is a lofty place and
a secret, but very far from quiet. For although, as
far as depends on Him, He " disposeth all things
sweetly/' still He does really dispose. And He will
not suffer the contemplative soul which, perchance, has
found her way to this place, to rest there peacefully,
but by causing her to scrutinise everything with ad-
miration, He wearies and disquiets her in ways no less
pleasant than marvellous. In a following verse, the
Spouse beautifully expresses these two characteristics of
such contemplation, viz., delight and restlessness, where
she confesses that whilst she sleeps her heart watches.
For she thus signifies that, although she enjoys rest in
this sleep of a most blissful transport and tranquil ad-
miration, she nevertheless endures fatigue in the watch-
ing of her unquiet curiosity and in her painful activity.
Hence blessed Job said : "If I be down to sleep, I
shall say, when shall I rise ? And again I shall look
for the evening."

Do you not perceive, my brethren, from these words,
that sometimes the holy soul wishes to decline such
bitter-sweets, if I may use the expression, and again
experiences a revival of appetite for the same sweet-
bitters ? * For had that slumber of contemplation
completely satisfied her, she never would have asked,
" When shall I rise ? " And, on the contrary, she

* " Molesta suavitas . . . suavis molestia." Compare with
this what St. Teresa says about the " Wound of Love " or the
" Anguish of Love," Int. Castle, 6th Mans., ch. xi. — (Translator.)

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 249

never would have looked forward to the hour of restful
prayer, viz., to the evening, were it entirely distasteful.
No bedchamber of the King, therefore, can this place
be, since the soul therein is not permitted to enjoy
perfect repose.

There is another place, whence is kept an immutable
watch over the reprobate rational creatures, by the
just vengeance, as severe as it is secret, of the most
righteous Judge, " terrible in His counsels over the
sons of men." Here the trembling soul beholds the
Almighty, by a just but hidden judgment, refusing
both to pardon the evil and to accept the good works
of the wicked,* and, moreover, hardening their hearts,
lest perchance they should become contrite, enter into
themselves, be converted, and He should heal them.

* The Saint is evidently speaking of obstinately impenitent
sinners, for no Christian would say, least of all St. Bernard,
that pardon is ever refused to the truly contrite. He is, there-
fore, but repeating here what he said in the first of these ser-
mons, that without the keeping of the commandments no work
is good or acceptable. It would also be a great mistake to con-
clude from what is here said that the holy Preacher held any
theory of absolute predestination, according to which God has
from all eternity immutably determined the number of the
elect, independently of His prevision of merit or demerit. Such
a doctrine would be in manifest contradiction with his plain
teaching elsewhere. Thus, in his treatise " On Grace and Free
Will," cap. ix., we read, " The rational creature, by the prero-l
gative of his liberty, has been made, to some extent, the master!
of his own destinies, so that ix is only by his own free will hej
becomes wicked and is justly condemned, or perseveres in gooa
and merits salvation. . . . The merciful Father, Who wills to
save all, nevertheless judges none worthy of salvation, whom
He has not already proved willing to be saved." Also, cap. i.,
" The will is said to co-operate with grace by consenting.
And salvation consists in this consent." These passages also
show that St. Bernard knew nothing of intrinsically efficacious
grace. — (Translator.) ^r — ■ *— — — —

\

\

250 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

And this not without a determinate and eternal decree,
which is manifestly all the more frightening on account
of its being unchangeably fixed from everlasting. Very
terrifying, indeed, is that which we read in the Prophet
Isaias, where God says, speaking to His angels, " Let
us have pity on the wicked." And then, to their trem-
bling question, " Will he not therefore learn justice ? "
He answers, " No," and He gives the reason : " In the
land of the saints, he hath done wicked things, and he
shall not see the glory of the Lord." Be afraid, ye
clerics, tremble, ye ministers of the Church, who in the
lands of the saints, which you have gotten into your
possession, are doing such "wicked things," that, far
from being content with the stipend which ought to
satisfy you, you impiously and sacrilegiously keep for
yourselves the superfluities that should go to the sup-
port of the indigent, shamelessly squandering the patri-
mony of the poor on the gratification of your own
pride and luxury. Thus, you contract the guilt of a
twofold iniquity, by robbing others of their property,
and by abusing sacred things, which you make to sub-
serve your vanity and wickedness.

Since, therefore, He Whose " judgments are a great
deep " is here beheld showing mercy and compassion
in time to such transgressors, but only to the end that
He may not spare them in eternity, who would
seek rest in this place ? The vision is better calculated
to inspire one with the terror of judgment than to sug-
gest the security of a bedchamber. Terrible in truth
is this place, and entirely incompatible with the quiet
of repose. I shudder all over, whenever I enter it, re-
peating with trembling those terrifying words, " Mai
knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred."

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 251

And what wonder that I, who am but a leaf blown
about by the wind, a dry straw, should there shake
with fear, where even that greatest of contemplatives,
the royal Psalmist, acknowledges that his "feet were
almost moved, his steps had well-nigh slipt " ? And
he adds, " Because I had a zeal on occasion of the
wicked, seeing the prosperity of sinners." Wherefore ?
Because " they are not in the labour of men ; neither
shall they be scourged like other men. Therefore,
pride hath held them fast," that they may not humble
themselves unto penance, but be condemned for their
pride with the proud demon and his angels. For they
who "are not in the labour of men," shall certainly
be in the labour of demons. This the Judge declares
in His sentence, " Depart from Me, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire, which was prepared for the devil and
his angels." Nevertheless, even this is a place of God,
surely " no other but the house of God and the gate
of heaven." For here the Lord is said to be feared,
here " His name is holy and terrible," and here assuredly
" the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom," as
it were, the vestibule of His glory.

Do not be surprised, my brethren, that I have ascribed
the beginning of wisdom to this second place rather than
to the first. For there do we indeed hear wisdom
teaching of all things, as it were, in a lecture-hall ;
but here we actually receive wisdom. There our minds
are instructed, here our wills are affected. By being so
instructed we become learned ; by being so affected we
are made wise. As not all who are illumined by the
light of the sun are also warmed by his heat, so wisdom
enlightens many as to what they ought to do, without
giving them at the same time the good will and dis-

^WK

252 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

position to do it. It is one thing to have knowledge
of great riches, but quite another to have possession
of the same ; for it is the possession of wealth and not
the knowledge thereof that makes a man wealthy. In
like manner, there is the greatest difference between
knowing God and fearing Him ; nor are we made wise
by the former, but only by the latter, which alone can
influence our will. Surely, my brethren, you would not
call him wise who is inflated with his science. And none
but the most foolish would attribute wisdom to those
who " when they knew God, have not glorified Him as
God, nor given thanks." I, for my part, agree with the
Apostle where he manifestly pronounces "their heart "
to be " foolish." Justly is it said that " the fear of the
Lord is the beginning of wisdom," because it is only then
the soul begins to relish God, when she is inspired with
the fear of Him, not when she is instructed in the knowl-
edge of Him. You fear the divine justice, you fear
the divine power, and hence, inasmuch as fear gives
savour, you will relish God as wise and just. Further-
more, relish makes a man wise,* as knowledge makes
him learned, and riches wealthy.

What, then, of the first place I have mentioned ? It
only disposes to wisdom. There you are prepared for
that wisdom of which you here obtain possession. This
preparation consists in acquiring a knowledge of truth.
But such knowledge most readily excites the swelling of
vanity, unless it is repressed by fear, of which, therefore,
it is truly said that " the fear of God is the beginning
of wisdom," for it is the first to oppose itself to the
pest of folly. In the first place, then, we are put on
the road to wisdom, in the second we are introduced

* " Sapor sapientem facit, lit scientia scientem." — (Translator.)

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 253

to it. Yet in neither does the contemplative find perfect
repose, because in the one God appears as if distracted
with cares, and in the other as if enraged against sinners.
Seek not, therefore, the King's bedchamber in either
place, not in the former, which is rather the Teacher's
lecture-hall, nor in the latter, which bears a closer re-
semblance to the Judge's tribunal. But there is a third
place, where the Lord appears truly tranquil and at rest.
It is the place neither of the Judge nor of the Teacher,
but of the Bridegroom, and which becomes for me, at
least (whether for others, also, I know not), a real
bedchamber, whenever it is granted me to enter there.
But all too rare that privilege, alas ! and all too short-
lived. There we can plainly see that " the mercy of
the Lord is from eternity and unto eternity upon them
that fear Him." And happy he who can say, " I am
a partaker with all them that fear Thee, and that keep
Thy commandments." The purpose of God stands fixed,
as well as His decree of mercy " upon them that fear
Him," overlooking what is evil in them and rewarding
what is good, and with admirable wisdom bringing it
about that not alone what is good, but even what is
evil shall " co-operate unto good for them." Oh, truly
and alone " blessed is the man to whom the Lord hath
not imputed sin." For there is no one * without sin,

* These words of the holy Preacher, just as the sentence
cited from St. Paul, are intended to be taken exceptis excipiendis
— as expressing merely a moral universality. For to say nothing
of our Lord, it is absolutely certain that St. Bernard taught
that throughout her whole life the Blessed Virgin was free from
all sin, both original and actual. He has indeed been repre-
sented as an opponent of the doctrine of her Immaculate Con-
ception, because of a letter of his in which he reproves the
Canons of Lyons for celebrating a feast in honour of that
mystery, and moreover appears to deny any sanctity to the

254 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

" because all have sinned and do need the glory of
God." Yet " who shall accuse against the elect of
God ? " It suffices me unto all justice, that He alone
be propitious to me against Whom alone I have sinned.
Whatever He wills not to impute to me, is as if it never
had been. God's righteousness is freedom from sin, but
the righteousness of man is the forgiveness of God. Such
things I saw in this third place, and I then understood
the truth of the words, " Whosoever is born of God com-
mitteth not sin ; for His seed abideth in him, and he
cannot sin, because he is born of God." That is to
say, his heavenly generation preserves him. This
heavenly generation is nothing else but eternal pre-
destination, whereby God has loved His elect and made
them pleasing in His sight in His own Beloved Son,
before the foundation of the world, and so " they in
the sanctuary have appeared before Him, to see His

Conception itself. I shall answer in the words of Cardinal
Manning : "It may be further proved (i) that the doctrine
rejected by St. Bernard is a doctrine rejected by the Church
at this time, viz., the supposition that the Immaculate Con-
ception of the Blessed Virgin was a peculiarity arising from the
order of nature, including her parents and even her ancestors
within its range. (2) That the doctrine he taught under the
name of the Immaculate Nativity, is in substance the doctrine
of the Immaculate Conception as now denned by the Chinch —
that the exemption of the Blessed Virgin from original sin was a
peculiar and personal privilege, bestowed upon her alone, not
by the order of nature, but in the order of grace, not through
the mediation of parents, but by a direct infusion of the grace
of the Holy Ghost into the soul at the first moment of its exist-
ence. . . . With what joy would he (St. Bernard) not have hailed
the authoritative definition of his own doctrine, perfect in
identity of substance, only expressed with more scientific
accuracy of mental and verbal analysis." This is the interpretation
given to the Saint's words by B. Albert, St. Thomas, St. Bona-
venture, Bellarmin, Perrone, and most moderns. Cf. Bellarmin,
t. iv. 1. iv. c. xv.; and Hurter t. ii. n. 644. — (Translator.)

'J** b.

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 255

power and His glory," in order that they might be
made participators in the inheritance of Him, to Whose
image they have shown themselves conformed. I have
therefore observed that these are as if they had never
sinned, because whatever faults they may seem to
have committed in time, none at all shall appear in
eternity, for the Father's " charity covereth a multi-
tude of sins." David called those blessed also " whose
iniquities are forgiven and whose sins are covered."
At the thought of this, I, even I, have suddenly ex-
perienced such an infusion of confidence and joy as
altogether exceeded the earlier emotion of fear, felt in
the place of horrors, that is, in the place of the second
vision. For it seemed to me that I was of the number
of these blessed ones. Would to God that my happi-
ness had been lasting ! Again, O Lord, again, " visit
me with Thy salvation, that I may see the good of
Thy chosen, that I may rejoice in the joy of Thy nation."
O place of true rest, and, in my opinion, well deserv-
ing to be called a bedchamber ! For we do not here
behold God either, as it were, excited with anger, or
as if distracted with care ; but His will is proved to be
" good and acceptable and perfect." This vision soothes
instead of terrifying. It lulls to rest, instead of arousing,
our unquiet curiosity. It calms the mind instead of
fatiguing it. Here is found perfect repose. The tran-
quillity of God tranquillises all about Him, and the
contemplation of His rest is rest to the soul. Here we
behold Him as a King, Who, after spending the day in
hearing and judging causes in His tribunal, now, in the
evening quiet, dismisses the multitudes, and laying aside
all disturbing cares, retires to His royal residence for
the night, and enters His bedchamber with a few friends,

256 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

whom He condescends to honour with this privilege of
special familiarity. Here we may see Him taking His
rest with equal security and privacy. Here we behold
Him looking all the more serene because He perceives
around Him only the faces of those whom He loves.
If, my brethren, it should ever be the lot of any of you
to be so transported for a time into this secret sanctuary
of God, and there so rapt and absorbed as to be dis-
tracted or disturbed by no necessity of the body, no
importunity of care, no stinging of conscience, or, what
is more difficult to avoid, no inrush of corporeal images
from the senses or the imagination, such a one can
truly say, " The King hath brought me into His bed-
chamber." But I would not rashly affirm that this is
the bedchamber whereof the Spouse boasts. Still it is
a bedchamber, and a bedchamber of the King, because
of the three places, to which I have assigned the three
visions, only this " place is in peace." For, as I have
shown, very little rest is enjoyed in the first, where the
Lord, by showing Himself admirable, exercises our
curiosity in the labour of inquiry ; and none at all in
the second, because He here appears so terrible as to
overpower with fear our mortal infirmity. But in this
third place, He deigns to reveal Himself not so terrible,
not so admirable, as amiable, as serene, as tranquil,
as " sweet and mild and plenteous in mercy to all that "
gaze upon Him.

Now, to facilitate the retention of all that I have

said in this lengthy discourse, I will repeat it in brief

summary. Remember, then, the three times, the three

I merits, and the three rewards. Observe the times in

/ connexion with the garden, the merits in the storeroom,

and the rewards in the threefold contemplation of him

MYSTICAL MEANING OF THE GARDEN 257

who seeks the King's bedchamber. I have already said
quite enough about the storeroom. As concerning the
garden and the bedchamber, if anything occurs to me
that ought to be added or to be presented in a different
way, you shall have it in its proper place. Otherwise
you must be satisfied with what you have heard now,
for I will not make any repetition, lest, which God
forbid, that should engender weariness, which is spoken
solely to the praise and glory of the Bridegroom of the
Church, Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who is over all, God
blessed for ever. Amen.

i.

SERMON XXIV

On Detraction and the Necessity of uniting Faith
with Good Works.

" The righteous love thee."

At length, my brethren, and for the third time, I
have come back to you from Rome. And this my last
return has been attended with more auspicious omens,
and more manifest indications of heaven's good- will.
For the Lion has ceased to rage, the power of evil has
passed away, and peace has been restored to the Church .
" In her sight is brought to nothing the malignant," who,
for nearly eight years, kept her in a state of turmoil and
confusion with his fearful schism. But shall it be to
no purpose that I am brought back to you from such
great dangers ? No, my brethren, since I have been re-
stored to your desires, I am willing and ready to help
you along in your spiritual advancement. As I owe
my life to the merit of your prr.yers, so I wish to live
only for your interests and your salvation. Since,
therefore, it is your desire that I should resume my
lectures on the Canticle, begun so long ago, I willingly
consent. But I judge it better to repeat and complete
the last sermon,* which I was forced to break off,

* This sermon, as it is given here, was preached in the year
1 1 38, after the Saint's return from Italy. We learn from the
introduction that it had been interrupted during a previous
delivery, the Preacher, apparently, having cut short his dis-
course to obey an urgent summons from his ecclesiastical

258

ON DETRACTION 259

than to enter upon something altogether new. Yet ]
am afraid that my mind, so long distracted and pre-
occupied with cares, as unworthy as they were various,
is not in a condition to handle this subject in a manner
befitting its dignity. " But what I have I give you. "
And to my faithful service God will be able to add
that which I have not, in order that I may transmit
it to you. In case He should not, then, let my intelli-
gence be censured, not my good- will.

We have to begin, I think, with the words, " The
righteous love thee." But before proceeding to explain
what they mean I must consider to whom they belong,
that is, who is the speaker. For the commentator is
jj expected to supply what the inspired author has passed
over in silence. Perhaps, then, I had better assign
these words to the " young maidens," and regard them
ps a continuation of the foregoing. For after saying,
no doubt, to their mother, the Spouse, " We will be
[glad and rejoice in thee, remembering thy breasts more
than wine," they went on and added this also, " The
righteous love thee." As I suppose, they did so on
account of some of their own number, who, whilst seem-
ing to run with the others, yet entertained far different
sentiments, seeking the things that were their own, not
walking with simplicity or sincerity, but envying their

superiors. This accounts for the fact that some editions give
87 sermons on the Canticles, the interrupted and the repeated
discourses being reckoned as two. But even where these are
given as one, there is a great diversity in the readings. The
reason of this is that St. Bernard preached the sermon with
different exordiums on the two occasions, and hence Editors
who wished to combine them, had ample room for discrepancies.
The "Lion" is, of course, the antipope, Anacletus II, Peter di
;Leone, whose schism against Innocent II the Saint was mainly
instrumental in bringing to a close. — (Translator.)

26o ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

mother's incommunicable glory, and taking occasion to
murmur against her from the fact that she alone had
been brought into the storehouses. What is this but the
same which the Apostle refers to as " perils from false
brethren " ? These are the persons whose reproaches
presently oblige the Spouse to justify herself, when she
answers them thus, " I am black but beautiful, O ye
daughters of Jerusalem." It is, therefore, because of
those who censure and calumniate her, that the good,
the simple, the humble, and the meek " young maidens "
sav to their mother, in order to console her, J he
righteous love thee." " Pay no heed," they tell her,
"to the wicked reprehensions of these censorious ones,
because the righteous love thee." There is certainly a
sweet consolation in the consciousness that we possess
the love of the virtuous, when, whilst doing good, we
are maligned by the wicked. The esteem of the good,
combined with the testimony of our own conscience, is
sufficient to " stop the mouth of them that speak
wicked things." " In the Lord shall my soul be praised;
let the meek hear and rejoice." " Let the meek rejoice
says the Spouse. " Let me but please the meek, and
patiently will I endure whatever reproaches the envy
of the reprobate may hurl against me."

It is in this sense, as it seems to me, that the young
maidens " spoke the words, " the righteous love thee.
Such an interpretation, at least in my judgment, has
the merit of being very reasonable and natural. For
almost in every company of " young maidens some
individuals are to be found who curiously examine the,
conduct of the Spouse, but rather to discover matter
for criticism than models for imitation. The virtues
of their seniors are a source of bitter grief to sue*

ON DETRACTION 261

whereas they are eager to feed their minds on their
failings. You may notice them going apart, meeting
and sitting together, and then relaxing their insolent
tongues to indulge in the detestable sin of murmuring.
They are closely conjoined one with another, and they
all but forget to breathe, in the ardour of their desire
to hear and to speak detraction. They contract a
friendship with a view to calumny ; they live in har-
mony for the propagation of discord ; they form an
alliance to wage war against fraternal charity ; and
with an equal affection of concordant malignity they
celebrate together the symposium of hate. It was thus
Pilate and Herod acted of old, concerning whom the
Evangelist narrates that they " were made friends on that
same day," namely, on the day of the Lord's Passion.
" When (they) come together, therefore, into one place,
it is not now to eat the Lord's Supper," but rather to
drink themselves and to give others to drink of the
"chalice of devils." And whilst the tongues of some
communicate the poison which brings souls to a state
of perdition, the minds of others welcome the spiritual
death that enters through their ears. Thus, according to
Jeremias, " death is come up through our windows,"
whilst with itching ears and restless tongues, we are
busy in ministering to each other the deadly cup of
detraction. Oh, let not my soul have part in the council
of slanderers, since they are objects of hatred to God,
as the Apostle bears witness, saying that detractors
are " hateful to God." And hear how the Lord Himself,
speaking in the Psalms, confirms this : " The man," He
says, " that in private detracted his neighbour, him did
I persecute."
This, my brethren, should not surprise us, since

262 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

detraction is recognised to be more particularly and
more directly opposed and irreconcilably antagonistic
to charity, which is God, than any of the other vices, as
you yourselves may take notice. For whoever commits
a sin of detraction proves in the first place that he
is himself void of charity. What other motive can
such an offender have except to bring him whom he
slanders into hatred and contempt with his hearers ?
The detracting tongue, moreover, wounds charity in all
who listen to it, and, as far as depends on it, utterly
destroys and extinguishes that virtue. And not alone
on those present has it this effect, but on the absent
also, as many as the flying word may happen to reach
through the agency of the listeners, who repeat what
they have heard. Behold how easily and how speedily
a countless number of souls can be infected with the
deadly virus of this moral plague by the slanderous word
that " runneth swiftly." Therefore, the Prophet says
of detractors, " Their mouth is full of cursing and
bitterness, their feet are swift to shed blood," as swift,
that is to say, as the " word " that " runneth swiftly."
There is, perhaps, but one speaker, and he speaks but
one word. And yet, that word, insinuating the poison
through the ears, murders in a single moment the
souls of a multitude of hearers. For the heart that is
filled with the bitter venom of envy, can only send forth
the bitterness of malice through the instrument of the
tongue, according to the testimony of Christ, " Out of
the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh."

There are different species of detractors. Some with-
out shame or concealment spit forth the poison of this
pestilence, according as it rises from the heart to the
mouth. Others attempt to cover the malignity con-

ON DETRACTION 263

ceived in their minds and which they cannot keep in,
under the mask of a pretended embarrassment. You
may observe them beginning by heaving deep sighs.
Then, slowly and solemnly, with melancholy counten-
ance, with downcast looks and whining voice, they give
free rein to their detracting tongues, and their slanders
are received by the listener only the more unsuspectingly,
the more evidently they appear to be spoken with re-
luctance and to proceed from compassion rather than
from malice. " It grieves me much," says one, " be-
cause of my great love for him, that I have never been
able to persuade so-and-so to give up such and such
a fault." " One thing," says another, " is absolutely
certain, namely, that nothing could ever have induced
me to be the first to open my lips about this matter.
But now that it has been made known by another, I
cannot deny the fact. I am very sorry to have to
admit that the report is true." And he adds, " It is a
great pity. For in other respects he is an excellent
man, but herein, I candidly confess, there is no excuse
for him."

Having said so much against this most malignant
vice, I will now return to the order of my exposition,
and I will try to explain whom, in this place, we are to
understand by the " righteous." I do not suppose any
sensible person will here understand this word in its
original meaning, as signifying straight ness in material
things, as if they who love the Spouse were the upright
in body. Hence I have to understand and explain it
of spiritual righteousness, that is, of the uprightness
or rectitude of the heart and the mind. For it is the
Spirit Who speaks, " comparing spiritual things with
spiritual." It was, therefore, according to the soul, not

264 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

according to the body, composed of the slime of earthy
matter, that God made man upright, when " He created
him to His own image and likeness." For "the Lord
our God is righteous, and there is no iniquity in Him."
Therefore, the righteous God made man righteous,
like unto Himself. That is to say, He made man
without iniquity, just as "there is no iniquity in Him."
Moreover, iniquity is a vice, not of the flesh, but of the
spirit. By this you may know that it is in your spiritual
nature, not in your gross and material part, that the
image of God has to be preserved or restored. For
" God is a Spirit," and they who wish to retain or to
recover their likeness to Him, must enter into their own
hearts and apply themselves in spirit to that spiritual
work. There " beholding the glory of the Lord with
open face," they shall " be transformed into the same
image, from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the
Lord."

Yet God also has given man the uprightness that
characterises his bodily frame. And perhaps the reason
of this was in order that such physical erectness of our
exterior and baser element, might admonish our interior,
spiritual man, who is made to God's image, of the ne-
cessity of preserving spiritual uprightness, and that the
beauty of the body might stand in reproachful contrast
with the deformity of the soul. For what can be so in-
congruous as to bear about a crooked mind in a straight
body ? It is surely a shame and a monstrosity that,
whilst this " earthy vessel," this material envelope, keeps
its eyes lifted up from the earth, directs its looks to the
heavens, and contemplates with delight the luminaries
of the firmament, the rational soul, on the contrary,
that spiritual and celestial creature, should bend her

ON DETRACTION 265

gaze to the ground, that is, should lower her internal
faculties and affections to the level of material things,
and, whereas she ought to be " brought up in purple,"
should attach herself to unworthy objects and " embrace
the dung " as the filth-loving swine. Be ashamed, O
my soul, of having thus exchanged the divine image
for the brutish. Be ashamed of wallowing in filth, thou
who art of heavenly origin. " O my soul," exclaims the
body, "compare thyself with me and be confounded!
Created righteous, like to thy Creator, thou hast ob-
tained in me also a helper like to thyself, according to
the analogy of corporeal uprightness. Whithersoever
thou mayest turn thy gaze, whether to God above thee
or to me below, ' for no man ever hated his own flesh,'
on all sides thou dost behold various reflections of
thine own beauty, everywhere in accordance with the
dignity of thy position, thou art receiving friendly
admonitions from the Spirit of wisdom. But whilst I
have retained and preserved the prerogative of up-
rightness bestowed upon me on thy account, what
confusion ought to overwhelm thee for having lost
thine ? Why must the Creator behold His own divine
image effaced from thee, the while He contemplates
thine preserved and constantly reproduced and ex-
hibited in me ? Now thou hast turned to thine own
confusion whatever help was due to thee from me.
Changed from a rational to a brutal and bestial spirit,
thou art unworthy any longer to inhabit a human body,
and dost but abuse my service."

Such deformed souls cannot love the Spouse, since,
being of the world, they are not friends of the Bride-
groom. " Whosoever," says St. James, " will be a
friend of this world becometh an enemy of God." There-

266 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

fore, it is deformity or curvature of soul to seek after
and to relish " the things that are upon earth " ; whilst,
on the contrary, spiritual uprightness consists in medi-
tating and desiring "the things that are above." But,
in order that this uprightness be perfect, it must be
found not alone in the thoughts and the feelings of the
mind, but also in external conduct harmonising there-
with. So, I would call him perfectly upright whose
mind is imbued with sound doctrine, and whose practice
is in keeping with his principles. Let faith and conduct
reveal to you the condition of the invisible soul. That
soul you may consider as righteous which professes the
Catholic faith and performs the works of justice. But
if either faith or works be lacking, you need have no
hesitation in pronouncing her to be deformed. For thus
we read, " If thou rightly offerest and dost not rightly
divide, thou hast sinned." We indeed " rightly offer "
each of these two, faith and good works ; but we do
not "rightly divide" one from the other. Do not,
my brethren, be righteous offerers and unrighteous
dividers. Why would you separate works from faith ?
Such a separation is sinful and destroys the life of your
faith, since " faith without good works is dead." And
would you offer to the Lord a victim that is already
dead ? For if charity be, so to speak, the soul of faith,
what is that faith which " worketh " not " by charity "
but a lifeless corpse ? Are you, then, doing well in
honouring God with such a putrescent victim ? Are you
doing well in trying to propitiate Him by offerirg Him
the faith you have murdered ? How can that be a peace- |
offering which is immolated with so much dreadful ;
discord ? It is not surprising that Cain, after murder- |
ing his faith, should rise up also against his brother.

ON DETRACTION 267

Why, O Cain, dost thou wonder that the Lord Who
despises thyself has not regard to thy offerings ? Nor
is it anything strange if He refuses to look upon thee,
who art so divided in thyself. Why dost thou deliver
up thy soul to envy, whilst thy hand is employed in
the work of piety ? Thou canst not make peace with
(rod so long as thou remainest at variance with thyself.
Thou dost but further provoke instead of appeasing
His anger, and if not yet indeed by impiously striking,
at least by not rightly dividing. For thou art
already a fideicide, viz., a slayer of thy faith, although
not as yet a fratricide. Not even now canst thou be
righteous when thy hand is extended to God, whilst
at the same time envy and hatred of thy brother keep
thy heart bent down to the earth. How can righteous-
ness have place in thee, whose faith is dead, whose
work is death, whose devotion is extinguished, whose
bitterness is exceeding great ? The offerer, I allow, has
faith, but his faith contains no vivifying love. The
oblation is right, but cruel the division.

The death of faith, my brethren, is its separation
from charity. You believe in Christ. Then do the
works of Christ, that your faith may live. Let your
faith be animated by love, and its sincerity proved by
virtuous actions. Do not stoop to the earth by worldly
conduct, you whom a heavenly faith holds erect. You
say that you abide in Christ. Therefore you " also
ought to walk even as He walked." But if you seek
your own glory, if you are jealous of the prosperity
of others, if you speak evil of the absent, or retaliate
injuries, in this you are not imitating Christ. To
such false Christians I say : You proclaim by your
words that you know God, and yet you deny Him

268 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

by your deeds. Surely you have not acted well but
wickedly in giving your tongues to Christ, and your
hearts to the devil. Hear, therefore, what the Almighty
says of such : " With their lips they glorify Me, but
their heart is far from Me." No, you cannot be
righteous, since you make so unrighteous a division.
You are unable to lift up your heads, pressed down as
they are by the yoke of Satan. Neither have you the
power to draw yourselves erect, being " dominated by
iniquity." For your " iniquities are gone over " your
" head, and as a heavy burden are become heavy upon "
you. For " Wickedness is seated upon the talent of
lead," * according to the Prophet Zachary. You now
understand that even right faith cannot make a man
righteous unless it " worketh by charity." And he who is
without charity has not wherewith to love the Spouse.
But neither are works, however right, sufficient to
render the heart righteous, without right faith. For
who would call him righteous that is not pleasing to
God ? But " without faith it is impossible to please
God." He who is not pleasing to God cannot be pleased
with God, since no one that is pleased with God can
be displeasing to Him. Moreover, whoever is dis-
pleased with God, shall also be displeased with His
Spouse. In what way, then, can he be righteous, who
loves neither God nor the Church of God ? For it is to
the Church the "young maidens " say, " The righteous
love thee." Since, therefore, neither faith without

* The reference is to Zachary v. 7, 8. " And behold a talent of
lead was carried, and behold a woman sitting in the midst of the
vessel. And he said : This is wickedness. And he cast her
into the midst of the vessel, and cast the weight of lead upon the
mouth thereof." Either the Saint had a different reading, or
else he is quoting freely. — (Translator.)

ON DETRACTION 269

works, nor works without faith are sufficient * for
righteousness of soul, let us, my brethren, who have
right faith in Christ, endeavour to make our ways and
our wills also right. Let us lift up both our hearts and
our hands to God that we may be found completely
righteous, proving the rectitude of our faith by the
righteousness of our actions. So shall we be lovers of
the Bride, and the friends of the Bridegroom, Jesus
Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed
for evermore. Amen.

* This powerful vindication of Catholic doctrine was called
for by the errors of Abelard, who not only denied the necessity
of good works, to which he would allow no supernatural value,
but also, by his deification of reason, made faith itself a super-
numerary. Thus he was at once the precursor of the sixteenth
century " Reformers," whose motto was " faith alone," and of
our modern Indifferentists, who say to us, " do what you think
right and don't worry about creeds." Cf . the Saint's " Tractatus
de Erroribus Abaelardi," or Epistle 19°, addressed to Pope
Innocent II. — (Translator.)

SERMON XXV

On the Blackness and the Beauty of the Bride-
groom and the Bride.

" / am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem."

You recollect, my brethren, what I said in my last
discourse, that the Spouse is compelled to reply to the
attacks of certain envious critics, who, in outward
seeming, appear to belong to the company of " young
maidens/' but in disposition and sentiment are far re-
moved from them. She answers them with the words, " I
am black, but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem."
Evidently they had been maligning her, reproaching
her with her blackness. But observe the patience and
benignity of the Spouse. Not only does she not return
insult for insult, but she even meets malediction with
benediction, calling them " daughters of Jerusalem,"
who, for their malice, deserved to be called daughters
of Babylon, or daughters of Baal, or any other oppro-
brious name that might have occurred to her. Clearly,
she has learned from the Prophet, or rather from the
unction of grace which teaches mildness, that the
" bruised reed " must not be broken, nor the " smoking
flax" extinguished. She considered, therefore, that
they who of themselves were sufficiently excited, should
not be subjected to further provocation, nor have
other irritants added to the torturing stings of envy.
Rather she endeavoured to be " peaceful with them

that hateth peace," knowing that she is a " debtor "

270

BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY OF BRIDE 271

even " to the unwise. " Hence, she preferred to soothe
them with words of gentleness, because she was more
concerned to secure the salvation of these weaklings,
than to avenge the wrong to herself.

Such perfection, my brethren, should be the ambition
of all. But it is especially the ideal after which all
prelates are bound to strive. For good and faithful
superiors are well aware that it is not dignity and
pomp that have been committed to their charge, but the
eternal salvation of weak and languishing souls. Hence,
whenever they discover, by the symptom of a querulous
voice, the internal discontent of any of these, although
it be manifested by outbursts of reproachful and con-
tumelious language against themselves, they realise
that they are physicians rather than masters, and so
instead of taking revenge, they immediately provide a
remedy for this spiritual paroxysm. Here, then, is the
reason why the Spouse calls her censureis " daughters
of Jerusalem," after enduring their malevolence and
malignity, in order, namely, with words of kindness, to
appease their disaffection, to calm their agitation, and
to cure their envy. For it is written, " A mild answer
breaketh wrath." Nevertheless, in certain respects,
such souls are really " daughters of Jerusalem," and the
Spouse speaks truth in calling them so. For, on account
of the sacraments of the Church, common to them
with the good, on account of the common profession
of Catholic faith, and the (at least, visible) communion
with all the faithful, and the hope of heaven, with
regard to which we must not despair of any, so long as
they live, no matter how sinful their lives may be — for
these reasons, I say, the Spouse is right in giving the
title " daughters of Jerusalem " even to the malcontents.

272 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Let us examine what she means by saying " I am
black (in colour) but beautiful" (of form— fortnosa) .
Is there a contradiction in these words, my brethren ?
God forbid ! But I speak on account of the simple-
minded, who are unable to distinguish between colour
and form. Form has reference and relation to the com-
position of bodies, whereas colour, such as blackness,
belongs only to the superficies. Not everything, there-
fore, which happens to be black is on this account alone
to be considered as deformed. In the eye, for instance,
black colour is not displeasing. Black stones have an
agreeable effect in ornamentation. Black hair also en-
hances the beauty and charm of a clear complexion.
And your own experience will furnish you with innu-
merable examples of the same. Countless are the things
which, looking to their colour alone, you would pro-
nounce unprepossessing, but which appear really beau-
tiful in form. In this way, perhaps, the Spouse may
combine with the loveliness of her form an unsightly
defect of colour ; yet this can only be the case in the
place of her pilgrimage. For the time shall come when,
in the fatherland, her glorious Bridegroom will " present
her to Himself a glorious Bride, not having spot or
wrinkle, or any such thing." But if she said now that
she has not blackness, she would deceive herself, and
the truth would not be in her. Wherefore, my brethren,
wonder not that she confesses her imperfection, saying,
" I am black." Yet, at the same time, she boasts that
she is beautiful. How, indeed, could she be otherwise,
to whom the Bridegroom said, " Come, My beautiful
one " ? But she who is invited to come, evidently has
not yet arrived at her destination. So, perhaps, this
word " come " is used lest we should think the epithet

BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY OF BRIDE 273

" beautiful " applies, not to the discoloured Spouse, who
is still advancing laboriously on her way, but to that
blessed one that reigns immaculate in heaven.

But hear why she calls herself black, and why beau-
tiful. Does she mean that she is black because of the
benighted life she previously led under the power of
the prince of darkness, whilst she still bore the image
of the earthly man ; and that she is beautiful by reason
of the heavenly similitude, into which she was after-'
wards transformed, when she began to walk in newness
of life ? But if so, why does she not say in the past
tense, " I was black," rather than in the present, " I am
black " ? If, nevertheless, any one of you be satisfied
with this interpretation, with regard to what follows
" as the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon," it
will be necessary to suppose that the Spouse compares
herself to the " tents of Cedar " on account of her
former evil life, and to the " curtains of Solomon " on
account of her present sanctity. Tents and curtains
sometimes mean the same in the Scriptures, as in that
passage of Jeremias where he says, " My tents are de-
stroyed on a sudden, and my curtains in a moment. "
According to this sense, therefore, she was black, at
first, like the hideous tents of Cedar, but later on she
became beautiful as the splendid curtains of the King.
Let us now see whether both her blackness and her
beauty cannot be explained with reference to her later
and reformed life. If we consider the exterior of the
saints, that aspect of them which strikes our senses,
how lowly and abject they appear, how wretched and
contemptible ! And yet they are all the while most
admirable in their interior, and " beholding the glory
of the Lord with open face, are transformed into the

274 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the
Lord." Does it not seem to you, my brethren, that
every such soul can truly reply to those who taunt her
with her blackness, "lam black but beautiful"?
Would you like me to show you one of these souls, at
once black and beautiful ? " His epistles indeed, they
say, are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence
is weak and his speech contemptible." This was St.
Paul. " O ye daughters of Jerusalem," do you thus
judge St. Paul by his " bodily presence," and despise
him as discoloured and deformed, because you perceive
him to be a man of diminutive stature, and afflicted
" in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, in many
more labours, in stripes above measure, in deaths
often " ? For these are the things that make him
black. It is because of these that the Doctor of Nations
is reputed inglorious, ignoble, discoloured, obscure, as
the " offscouring of all." Yet is not he the one that
was rapt up to paradise, who, passing through the
first and the second, penetrated, "by reason of his
purity," even to the third heaven ?

O truly most beautiful soul, which, although dwelling
in a weak little body, is yet so honoured as to be ad-
mitted to the vision of the celestial loveliness, neither
rejected by angelic magnificence, nor repelled by the
Divine Glory ! And do you caU such a soul black ?
She is " black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jeru-
salem." She is black in your judgment, but beautiful
in the estimation of God and of His angels. And,
although black, she is so only in her exterior. But to
St. Paul " it is a very small thing to be judged by
you," or by those who judge " according to the face."
For man "looketh on the face, but God regardeth the;

BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY OF BRIDE 275

heart." Therefore, even if his exterior is black, he is
yet beautiful interiorly ; so that he is pleasing to Him
to Whom he has striven to approve himself, although
not to you, for if he still pleased you he would not be a
servant of Christ. O blessed blackness, which begets
in us whiteness of soul, luminousness of knowledge,
and purity of conscience !

Hear what God promises, through His Prophet, to
persons "black" with this kind of blackness, who
appear to be discoloured by the humility of penance,
or by the fervour of charity, as if by the scorching
heat of the sun. "If your sins be as scarlet they
shall be made as white as snow ; if they be as red as
crimson, they shall be white as wool." Surely, then,
we ought not to despise in the saints this outward
blackness which becomes the source of interior bright-
ness, and so prepares in the soul the seat of wisdom.
For, according to the Wise Man, wisdom " is the bright-
ness of eternal life." Hence, truly bright must that
soul be which she chooses for her seat. But since we
know that " the soul of the just man is the seat of
wisdom," I am safe in concluding that the soul of the
just man must be also bright and luminous. Indeed,
it is likely enough that justice and spiritual brightness
mean the same thing. Now, St. Paul was just, since for
him was " laid up a crown of justice." Therefore there
can be no doubt that his soul was bright, and therein was
seated wisdom, so that he could " speak wisdom amongst
the perfect," " wisdom hidden in a mystery, which none
of the princes of this world knew." Moreover, this
brightness of wisdom and justice in him, was either
produced or merited by the external blackness of his
'bodily presence," and his "much watch ings " and

276 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

his "fastings often. " Consequently, even the very
blackness of St. Paul is far more precious and attractive
than any degree of external beauty, than all the pomp
and glory of earthly kings. Not to be compared with
it is any comeliness of mortal flesh, any fairness of a
skin destined as fuel for the flames, any loveliness of
a delicately-tinted complexion, soon to be the spoil of
death and putrefaction, any magnificence of dress liable
to the corrupting influence of age, any splendour of
gold and precious stones, or of anything else that passes
away with time.

Good reason have the saints, therefore, for devoting
and giving themselves up with all diligence to the
business of caring for and embellishing the inward man,
who is made to the image of God and M renewed day by
day " ; whilst they contemptuously refuse any adorn-
ment or superfluous attention to their outward man
" who is corrupted." For they feel convinced that
nothing can be so acceptable to God as His own image,
provided it has been restored to its original beauty.
Therefore, " all " their " glory is within," not outside,
that is to say, not in the flower of the field, or in the
mouths of the multitude, but in the Lord. Hence do
they say, " This is our glory, the testimony of our
conscience," because the only witness of their con-
science is God, Whom alone they desire to please, and
in pleasing Whom the only true and sovereign glory
consists. Certainly, no small glory is that which is
within, in which even the Lord of glory disdains not
to glory, as David tells us when he says, " All the
glory of the King's daughter is within." Besides, each
one's glory is all the more secure, the more he possesses
it within himself, and not in another. However, it is

BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY OF BRIDE 277

not alone in the interior brightness, but also in the
exterior blackness that there is found occasion for
glorying, lest anything in the saints should go for loss,
but that all things might "co-operate unto good " for
them. Hence we see them glorying in tribulations as
as well as in hope. " Gladly," says the Apostle, " will
I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may
dwell in me." O infirmity worthy to be desired with
all ardour, which is compensated for by the power of
Christ ! Who will grant me not only to be infirm, but
to be utterly forsaken and abandoned by my own
strength and my own power, in order that I may be
propped up by the power and strength of the " Lord
of virtues " ! For " power is made perfect in infirmity,"
as Christ bears witness. Hence St. Paul could affirm,

1 When I am weak, then am I powerful."

This being so, the Spouse most skilfully turns to her
own glory what her censurers taunted her with as a
reproach, boasting not only of her beauty, but also
of her blackness. For she is not ashamed of this black-
ness, knowing that the same kind of blackness appeared
even in her Bridegroom. And what matter for glory-
ing it is to be assimilated to Him ! Therefore, in her
eyes there can be nothing so glorious as to " bear the
reproach of Christ." Hence that " voice of exultation
and of salvation," " God forbid that I should glory
save in the cross of my Lord, Jesus Christ." The
ignominy of the cross is gratifying to him who is not
ungrateful to the Crucified. It is blackness indeed,
but it is also the image and likeness of the Lord. Go
to the Prophet Isaias, and he will describe for you how
he beheld Him in spirit. For whom but Christ does

he call the " Man of sorrows and acquainted with

278 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

infirmity," adding that " there is no beauty in Him
nor comeliness " ? And he goes on, " And we have re-
puted Him, as it were, a leper, and as one struck by
God and afflicted. But He was wounded for our in-
iquities, He was bruised for our sins, and by His bruises
we are healed." Behold what makes Him black ! Add
to this the testimony of holy David, " Beautiful in form
above the sons of men," and you will have verified in
the Bridegroom all that the Spouse witnesses of herself
when she says, " I am black but beautiful."

Does it not, then, seem to you, my brethren, that
according to what has been said, He also could have
replied to the Jews who reproached Him, " I am black
but beautiful, O ye " sons " of Jerusalem." Black
assuredly was He in Whom there was " no beauty nor
comeliness." Black also as being " a worm and no
man, the reproach of men and the outcast of the people."
Again, why should I be afraid to call Him black Who
even made Himself " sin," as the Apostle declares ?
Lastly, contemplate Him, clad in a ragged and dirty
mantle, livid with wounds, defiled with spittle, pale with
the pallor of death, and surely now at least you will
acknowledge Him to be black. Then question the
apostles as to the appearance He presented on the
mountain ; or ask the angels what is it that makes them
desire to gaze upon Him, and you will doubtless marvel
at what they shall tell you of His beauty. Therefore, He
is beautiful in Himself, but black for our sakes. Yet
even in Thy Human Form, according to which Thou
art my Brother, how beautiful Thou art to me, O Lord
Jesus ! Not because of the mighty miracles of Thy
divine power, which render Thee so illustrious, but " on
account of Thy truth, and Thy meekness, and Thy

BLACKNESS AND BEAUTY OF BRIDE 279

justice." Blessed is the man who diligently studies
Thee conversing as a Man amongst men, and endeavours
to imitate Thee in the practice of these virtues, to the
utmost of his power ! Already has Thy " beautiful
one " obtained this part of her beatitude, the first fruits,
as it were, of her dowry, being neither slow to copy what
is beautiful in Thee, nor ashamed to participate in the
sufferings which make Thee black. For this reason
also she said, " I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters
of Jerusalem." And she added the comparisons, " as the
tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon." But these
latter expressions are obscure, and we are too weary
now to enter upon their exposition. You shall therefore
have an opportunity for " knocking " by prayer at the
door of Wisdom. If you knock sincerely, there is One
Who will come to open for you these mysteries. Nor will
He delay to open, since it is He Himself Who invites
you to knock. For He it is that " openeth and no man
shutteth," the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ,
Our Lord, Who is blessed for evermore. Amen.

SERMON XXVI

In what sense the Blackness of the Spouse is
compared to the tents of cedar — the saint's
Lament over his Brother.

"As the tents of Cedar, as the curtains of Solomon."

" As the tents of Cedar, as the curtains * of Solomon."
Here, my brethren, I have to begin to-day, where
yesterday's sermon ended. And you expect me now
to explain these words of the Spouse, as well as the
manner of their connexion with the text of my last
discourse, " I am black but beautiful," with which they
express a double comparison. As for the connexion, it
may be considered in either of two ways. Both com-
parisons may be referred to the first clause of the fore-
going, viz., " I am black." Or we may take the first
and second comparisons, namely, that of the tents of
Cedar, and that of the curtains of Solomon, as re-
lating, respectively, to the first and second parts of
the sentence, " I am black, but beautiful." The former
interpretation possesses the advantage of greater sim-
plicity and clearness. However, I mean to try both.
And I will begin with the latter, which appears to be
the more difficult. As a matter of fact, the only diffi-
culty is to see what the " pavilions of Solomon " have

* " Pdles " = " skins," hence " curtains," which is the Douay
version. But these curtains must be taken to mean the covering
of tents or pavilions. Thus the same word is rendered "pavilion "
by the same Translators, Ps. ciii. 2. — (Translator.)

280 .

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 281

in common with beauty ; for the connexion between
Cedars and blackness will be sufficiently patent to all,
when it is remembered that the word "Cedar," in the
Hebrew, signifies darkness. It is also evident that
"tent " or "tabernacle " can here be taken in a con-
sonant sense. For what are these tents but the bodies
in which we sojourn ? " For we have not here a lasting
city, but we seek for one that is to come." We also
carry on war in them, as in tents, using " violence " in
order " to bear away the kingdom." Hence Job tells us
that " the life of man upon earth is a warfare." And
" whilst we " fight " in this body, we are absent from
the Lord," that is, from the Light. For "the Lord is
the Light." Therefore, the more we are absent from
Him, waging war in the tents of our bodies, the more
are we in darkness, that is to say, in Cedar. Conse-
quently, every such exile ought to make his own that
tearful cry, "Woe is me that my sojourning is pro-
longed ! I have dwelt with the inhabitants of Cedar ;
my soul hath been long a sojourner." Hence, this
dwelling of our body is not to be regarded as the resi-
dence of a citizen, nor as the home of a native, but
either as the tent of a soldier, or the inn of a traveller.
Yes, I repeat it : this body is but a tent, which by its
opaqueness, so to speak, shuts out from the soul, during
her sojourn on earth, the gladdening influence of the
circumambient Light, permitting it to see that Light
only "through a glass " and " in a dark manner," but
not yet " face to face."

Would you like to know, my brethren, the cause of
the Church's blackness and the reason why a certain
amount of rust still adheres even to the most beautiful
souls ? I will tell you. It is all due, beyond question, to

282 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

these tents of Cedar, to the prosecution of a laborious
war, to the prolongation of their miserable sojourning,
to the bitterness of their painful exile, to the weakness
and yet oppressiveness of the body ; " for the corrupt-
ible body is a load upon the soul, and the earthly habi-
tation presseth down the mind that museth upon many
things." Wherefore, they even "desire to be dis-
solved," that, being delivered from the body, they may
fly to the embraces of Christ. Hence the cry of one
such afflicted soul, " Unhappy man that I am, who
will deliver me from the body of this death ? " Souls
like this know very well that so long as they abide in
the tents of Cedar, their purity cannot be altogether
free from every spot and stain, from every shade
of blackness. And so they long for dissolution, in order
to be delivered perfectly from such defilements. This
is the reason why the Spouse declared herself to be as
black as the " tents of Cedar."

But in what sense is she " beautiful as the curtains
of Solomon " ? It seems to me, my brethren, that
there is wrapt up in these curtains something I know
not what, of such sublimity and sanctity that most cer-
tainly I would not presume to expose it at all, except
at the bidding of Him Who hid it there and sealed
it. For I have read that "he that is a searcher of
majesty shall be overwhelmed by glory." I will
wait, therefore, and procrastinate. Do you, mean-
time, as usual, impetrate by your prayers the light
and grace of the Holy Spirit, that with desires inten-
sified in proportion to our confidence, we may return
to this subject, which demands more than ordinary
attention. And perhaps the devout suppliant will
discover what would be missed by the rash inquirer.

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 283

In any case, grief at the calamity which has befallen
us will not allow me to continue.

How * long shall I dissemble ? How long shall I
endeavour to conceal within myself the fire which con-
sumes my broken heart and devours my very vitals ?
A secret flame creeps forward more freely, and more
cruelly rages. What have I to do with this Canticle
of love, submerged as I am in an ocean of bitterness ?
The vehemence of my grief draws away my attention,
and the anger of the Lord has drunk up my s^ul. For
" my heart hath forsaken me," since he is gone who
used to leave me, in some sense, free for divine con-
templation. But I have done violence to my feelings.
I have striven to conceal my sorrow until now, afraid
lest perhaps it should seem that faith had succumbed
to natural affection. Therefore, whilst all others wept,
I alone, with tearless eyes, followed the cruel bier, as

* This magnificent threnody, the impetuous outpouring of
an overcharged heart, must be rea I in the original to be fully
appreciated. It was delivered in n 38. In the judgment of
Dom Rivet (Hist. Litter., t. 10, pref.) nothing equal to it has
appeared in the Latin language since the Augustan Age, if we
except the two funeral orations on St. Malachy, by the same
author. Pierre Beringer of Poitiers, to avenge the defeat of his
master, Abelard, at the hands of St. Bernard, had the impu-
dence to accuse the holy abbot of stealing certain passages from
St. Ambrose. But the charge has been triumphantly refuted
by the illustrious Mabillon. And if some expressions appear
to us to be extravagant, we must bear in mind that St. Bernard,
as we learn from his biographers, was gifted with an extra-
ordinarily affectionate heart, and scarcely ever attended a
funeral without shedding tears. This should aLo show us
how utterly false is the notion entertained by many, viz., that
sanctity tends to blunt our natural sensibilities. Grace does not
destroy but rather perfects nature, and it remains always true
that to be a holy man is to be wholly a man. The lessons for
the feast of Blessed Gerard in the Cistercian Breviary are taken
from this sermon. — (Translator.)

284 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

you can yourselves bear witness. With tearless eyes I
stood at the graveside until the last sad rites were all
accomplished. Vested in my priestly robes, I pro-
nounced with my own lips the usual prayers over the
remains. With my own hands I sprinkled clay, ac-
cording to custom, over my beloved Gerard's body,
soon to be changed itself to clay. They that watched
me were weeping, and they wondered why I did not
weep myself, although he was less the object of uni-
versal compassion than was I, who had been bereaved
of him. For surely harder than iron must the heart
have been that would not melt to see me surviving
Gerard. His death was a common calamity, but this
was reckoned as nothing in comparison with the per-
sonal loss to me. I tried to resist my sorrow with all
the force I could gather from faith, striving to suppress
even those vain involuntary emotions, occasioned by
what is, after all, but our natural destiny, the debt of
our mortality, the necessity of our condition, the or-
dinance of the Mighty One, the judgment of the Just
One, the scourge of the Terrible One. Such reflections
led me to restrain myself constantly, then and to the
present, from overmuch weeping, whilst all the time
I felt exceedingly sad and afflicted. For although I
could control my tears, I had not the same power over
my sorrow ; but as it is written, u I was troubled and
I spoke not." But pent-up grief strikes its roots the
more deeply within, becoming the more bitter, as I
believe, from the fact that it is refused an outlet. My
brethren, I have to acknowledge myself vanquished. I
must now give vent to my interior anguish. I must
exhibit my distress to the eyes of my children, that,
realising its magnitude, they may think more kindly

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 285

thoughts of my affliction and more sweetly console
me.

You know, O my children, you know how reasonable
is my sorrow, how worthy of tears is the loss I have
sustained. For you understand how faithful a com-
panion has been taken from my side " in the way in
which I was walking." You know what was his atten-
tiveness to duty, his diligence at work, his sweetness
and amiability of character. Who was so indispensable
to me ? By whom was I so much beloved ? He was
my brother by blood, but more my brother by religious
profession. Oh, pity my lot, you to whom these things
are known ! I was weak in body, and he supported
me. I was pusillanimous, and he encouraged me. I
was slothful and negligent, and he spurred me on. I
was improvident and forgetful, and he acted as my
monitor. Oh, whither hast thou been taken from me ?
Why hast thou been torn from my arms, " a man of
one mind," " a man according to my heart " ? We
have loved each other in life, how then is it that we are
separated in death ? O most cruel divorce, which only
death could have power to cause ! For when in life
wouldst thou have so deserted me ? Yes, it is unmis-
takably the work of death, this most woeful separation.
For what but death, that enemy of all things sweet,
would not have spared the sweet bond of our mutual
love ? With good reason is that called death and a
double death, which in its rage has slain two in carrying
off one. Has not that separation been death to me also ?
Yea, and especially to me, for whom is preserved a
life more bitter than any death. For I live indeed, but
only to endure a living death. And shall I call such an
existence life? O unfeeling death, how much kinder

286 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

it had been to deprive me of the possession of life than
of its fruit ! For life without fruit is worse than death,
since we are told that two evils, the axe and the fire,
await the tree that bears no fruit. Therefore, through
envy of my labours, "thou hast removed far from me
my friend and my neighbour," to whose zeal was mainly
due whatever fruit those labours yielded. Hence it
were far better for me to have lost my life than thy
company, O my brother, who wert the earnest stimu-
lator of my studies in the Lord, my faithful helper, and
my prudent counsellor. Why, I ask, have we been
so united in brotherly love ? Or, so united, why so
parted ? O most mournful lot ! But it is my fate
that is pitiable, not his. For thou, sweet brother, if
separated from thy dear ones, art now united to others
still more dear. But what consolation remains now to
wretched me, after losing thee, my only comfort ? Our
bodily companionship was a source of enjoyment to
both of us, on account of the conformity of our wills
and sentiments, but I alone have suffered from our
separation. The enjoyment was common, but I am
left the monopoly of the sadness and the sorrow.
" Wrath hath come upon me " ; " wrath is strong over
me." Sweet was the presence of each to other, sweet
our companionship, sweet our conversation. But whilst
I have lost the happiness of us both, thou hast only
exchanged it for better. For in this exchange "there
is a great reward."

With what usuary of delights, with what wealth of
benedictions, art thou compensated for our absence
to-day, O my dearest brother ! In return for my
company, thou art now enjoying the presence of Christ.
Nor canst thou deem it a loss to be separated from us,

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 287

associated, as thou surely art, to the angelic choirs
above. Thou, therefore, hast no cause to complain of
thy separation from us, since the Lord of Majesty has so
generously admitted thee to the society and fellowship
of Himself and of His angels. But what have I ob-
tained in place of thee ? How I should like to know
what sentiments thou dost now entertain towards me,
that " only one " of thine, distraught and overwhelmed
as I am with sufferings and solicitudes, and bereft of
thee, the staff of my weakness ! — if indeed it be per-
mitted to one who has been plunged into the abyss of
Light Divine, and submerged in the ocean of everlast-
ing felicity, to concern himself still with his miserable
friends on earth.* For, although thou didst formerly
know us according to the flesh, perhaps now thou dost
no longer know us. Perhaps, having " entered into
the powers of the Lord," thou wilt henceforth " be
mindful of justice alone," and forgetful of us. " But
he who is joined to the Lord is one Spirit," and is com-
pletely transformed into a sort of divine affection, so
that, being filled with God, he can no longer take interest
or pleasure in anything but God and in the things in
which God takes interest and pleasure. Yet " God is
charity," and the more closely the creature is united
to Him, the more full he is of charity. Again, although
God is not passible, He is yet compassionate, for to
Him " it is proper to have mercy and to spare." There-
fore, must thou, too, dearest brother, be merciful, since
thou cleavest to One so merciful, even though misery has

* Cf. Tennyson's address to his dead friend : —

"And I, can clouds of nature stain
The starry clearness of the free ?
How is it ? Canst thou feel for me
Some painless sympathy with pain ? "

288 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

now no access to thee. Thou must still feel compassion,
though suffer thou canst not. Hence, thy affection, far
from failing, has but been transformed. In putting on
God, thou has not put off thy care for us, because even
" He hath care for us," as we learn from St. Peter.
Thou hast laid aside only thy infirmity, not also thy
piety. And as " charity never falleth away," thou wilt
not " forget me unto the end."

It seems to me that I hear my brother answering
and saying, " Can a mother forget her infant so as
not to have pity on the son of her womb ? And if she
should forget, yet will not I forget thee." It surely
is not expedient that I should be forgotten by thee.
Thou knowest how I am situated, where I lie prostrate,
in what a plight thou hast left me. And now there is
none to reach me a helping hand. In every emergency I
still, as was my wont, look around for Gerard, but he
is nowhere to be seen. Then, alas ! I groan with misery,
as " a man without help." Whom shall I henceforth
consult in my doubts ? On whom shall I lean when
misfortune overtakes me ? Who will bear my burdens ?
Who will deliver me from dangers ? Were not my
steps in every undertaking directed by the eyes of
Gerard ? Was not my own breast, O Gerard, less in-
timately acquainted with my cares than was thine,
less frequently invaded, less sharply tormented ? With
that persuasive and eloquent tongue of thine, how often
hast thou saved me from the distraction of worldly
discourses, and restored me to my dearly loved silence !
For the Lord had given him " a learned tongue," that
he might know when he ought to utter speech. So,
by the prudence of his answers, and by the grace given
him from above, he gave such satisfaction both to his

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 289

brethren and to strangers, that I might almost say
nobody had ever any need to speak to me when Gerard
had first been consulted. He would go to meet visitors,
opposing himself as a rampart against their incursions,
to prevent them from breaking in upon my leisure. If
any there were whom he himself could not satisfy, these
he conducted to me, sending the others away, contented.
What shall I say of his wonderful industry ? Or what
of his loyalty to his friends ? Well he knew both how
to gratify his brother, and how to fulfil the duties of
charity. Whom did he ever send away empty ? For the
rich he had counsel, and for the poor relief. Surely he
did not seek what was his own, who, in order to deliver
me from care, was willing that himself should be over-
whelmed with cares. For in his profound humility, he
hoped to derive more abundant fruit from my leisure than
from any studies of his own. Yet he sometimes begged
to be removed from his office of procurator, and to be
replaced by some other more worthy to fill it . But where
was such a one to be found ? Nor was he attached to
that office (as so often happens) by any inordinate
affection, since he discharged its functions from the
sole motive of charity ; and whereas he laboured more
than any other, he received less than any other, so
that often, whilst providing others with what they
needed, he himself was wanting in many things ne-
cessary, such as food and clothing. Hence, when he per-
ceived the approach of death, " O God," he protested,
'Thou knowest that, so far as depended on me, I
have always desired solitude, to be at leisure to attend
to Thee and to myself. But I have been forced to re-
main in distracting occupations by the fear of Thee,
by the will of my brethren, by the duty of obedience,

290 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

and especially by my sincere affection for him who is
at once my abbot and my brother." Such indeed was
the case. Thanks to thee, 0 my brother, for all the fruit
(if there has been any) of my studies in the Lord. What-
ever progress I have made myself, and whatever help I
may have given to others, all is due to thee. Thou wert
overburdened with temporal affairs whilst I, at thy
expense, was enjoying repose, or at least occupied with
the more sacred duties of the divine service, or with
the more profitable employment of instructing my
spiritual children. For how could I be otherwise than
perfectly at ease within, when I knew that thou wert
busying thyself without, as my own right hand, the
light of my eyes, my heart and my tongue ? And
indeed thou wert to me an unwearied hand, and a
" simple eye," and a heart full of prudence, and a
tongue speaking judgment, as it is written, " The mouth
of the just shall meditate wisdom, and his tongue shall
speak judgment."

But why have I spoken of his exterior employments,
as if Gerard were inexperienced in the interior life, as
if he were a stranger to spiritual gifts ? Those spiri-
tual persons who knew him, knew also how redolent
of the Spirit his words were. His brethren knew how
his thoughts and his actions savoured not of the flesh,
but were animated all with spiritual fervour. Who was
more strict than he in the observance of the Rule ?
Who more austere in bodily mortification, more rapt
and exalted in divine contemplation, or more subtle
and profound in discourse than was Gerard ? How
often in discussion with him have I not learned truths
which had hitherto escaped me ! And I, who had come
as the teacher, went away as the one taught. Do not

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 291

be surprised that this has been my experience, since
even great and wise men testify that the same thing
has happened to themselves in conversation with
Gerard. He did not indeed possess book-learning, but
he possessed the intelligence which is its source and
author, and he also possessed the light of the Holy
Spirit. Both in the greatest things and in the least
he showed himself equally wise and resourceful. For
instance, with regard to building operations, to agri-
culture, to horticulture, to waterworks, indeed to all
the different arts and trades which belong to country
life — in all this variety of business was there any-
thing, I ask, to which Gerard's skill and resource were
not equal ? His universal knowledge of practical
affairs enabled him easily to superintend the quarry-
men, the workers in wood and iron, the farm-labourers,
the gardeners, the shoemakers, and the weavers. Wisest
of all in the estimation of each of his brethren, he still
looked upon himself as altogether devoid of wisdom.
Would to God that many, although less wise than he,
were not more deserving of the malediction, " Woe to
you that are wise in your own eyes " ! I am speaking
to persons who are aware of all this. But I might say
still more of him, and greater things than what is
generally known. However, I will refrain, for he is
my flesh and my brother. Yet this I confidently affirm,
that to me he was useful in all things and in a degree
beyond all others. He made himself useful in little
things as in great, in private as in public, both at home
and abroad. On him I depended wholly, not without
reason, since he was my all. He left to me hardly
anything more than the name and the honour of
superior, for he did all the work himself. I bore the

292 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

title of abbot, but he had the largest share of the soli-
citudes of government. Deservedly, therefore, did " my
spirit rest upon him," to whom it was owing that I
could " delight in the Lord," preach the word with
freedom, and give myself up to prayer with an easy
mind. Yes, to thee, O my brother, to thee I owe a
more tranquil peace of mind than my office would permit
without thee, sweeter delights in repose, richer results
from my preaching, greater devotion at my prayers,
more frequent opportunities for reading, a stronger
affection of divine love.

Alas ! thou hast been taken from me, and with thee
all these graces. All my consolations and all my joys
have vanished together with thee. Now cares rush in
upon me. Now troubles assail me on all sides. Afflic-
tions have surrounded me, finding me abandoned and
all alone. For only such companions remained with me
after thy departure, and, unassisted, I groan beneath
the burden. That burden I must now either sink under
or lay aside, since thou has withdrawn the support of
thy shoulders. Oh, who will grant me soon to die and
follow thee ? To die instead of thee I should not ask,
as that would be to wrong thee, by delaying thy en-
trance into glory. But to survive thee, what is it but
" labour and sorrow " ? So long as I live, I shall live
in bitterness, I shall live in sadness. This shall be my
sole consolation, that, without respite I shall always be
a prey to sorrow and anguish. I will not spare myself.
I will myself co-operate in my own chastisement with
the hand of the Lord, for it is " the hand of the Lord 1
that " has touched me." Me, I say, it has touched and
smitten, not him, whom it has but beckoned to rest.
It has slain me in the act of cutting short his exile.

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 293

say " cutting short his exile/' rather than " slaying
him,'' for surely it would not be true to call that a
slaying which is rather a transplanting, an exchanging
of a mortal for an immortal existence. But that which
to him was the portal of life was the stroke of death
to me. Indeed, I may truly say it was I who died by
his death, not Gerard, who " fell asleep in the Lord."
Gush forth, gush forth now, my tears, for he is gone,
whose presence heretofore prevented your flowing, by
excluding the cause. Open, ye fountains of my unhappy
head, and pour yourselves out in rivers of water, if per-
chance, you may thus suffice to wash away the soil of
my sins, whereby I have called down upon me the
just anger of heaven. When my tears shall have
appeased and consoled the Lord, then, perhaps, I
may deserve that He also should grant me a little
consolation. But He will do this only on condition
that I cease not from weeping, for it is only those
who mourn that He has promised shall be com-
forted. Wherefore, be indulgent towards me, all you
that are holy, and let every spiritual person bear
with me in my lamentation in the spirit of mild-
ness. Let natural affection rather than custom be
considered in judging my sorrow. For we daily
see the dead mourning their dead, much lamen-
tation and little fruit. We do not find fault with
the grief itself, unless it be immoderate, but with the
cause of it. The former is a part of our nature, and
the disturbance it produces is the penalty of transgres-
sion. But the cause of this grief is often vanity and sin.
For, if I mistake not, the world laments only the loss of
the glory of the flesh, and of temporal advantages. And
they who weep for such things, are worthy themselves

294 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to be wept for. But is this my own case ? The
emotion of sorrow is the same, indeed ; but far different
are the motives, far different the intention. For cer-
tainly I am not complaining of the loss of any worldly
object. I mourn over the removal of a faithful helper
over the loss of a trusty counsellor in the things that
appertain to God. I lament and grieve for Gerard.
The cause of my tears is Gerard, my brother according
to the flesh, but more closely related according to the
spirit, and the confidant and partner of all my designs.
My soul cleaved to his. We two were made one,
less by the ties of flesh and blood than by sameness of
sentiment. Connected by the bond of consanguinity,
we were still more closely united by our spiritual re-
lationship, by the conformity of our minds,, and the
harmony of our wills. As we were thus but " one
heart and one soul," the sword of death pierced this
common soul of him and me,* and dividing it in two,
placed one part in heaven, and left the other lying
prostrate in the mire of the earth. I, dearest brethren,
I am that wretched part, cast prone upon the ground,
despoiled of half of myself, and that the more excellent.
And will you say to me " weep not " ? My very vitals
have been torn out, and shall it be said to me, " do
not feel " ? But I do feel ; oh, yes, I feel, because
" my strength is not the strength of stones, nor is my

* We find the same fancy in St. Augustine's lament for his
friend (Confess., lib. iv. cap. vi.) : "It has been well said by
some one of his friend, ' he was half of my soul.' I, too, have
felt as if my friend's and mine were but one soul in two bodies.
And therefore I had a horror of life because I hated to live
without half of myself. And perhaps this was also the reason
why I feared to die, lest I should thus lose him altogether, whom
I so tenderly loved and half of whose soul still survived in
me." — (Translator.)

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 295

flesh of brass." I feel, most assuredly, and I am in
pain, " and my sorrow is continually before me."
Certainly, He Who uses the scourge cannot reproach
me with hardness and insensibility, as He did them of
whom the Prophet complained, saying, " Thou hast
struck them and they have not grieved." I have con-
fessed my sorrow and I have not denied it. You may
call it carnal. I do not deny that it is human, any more
than I deny that I am a man. If this does not content
you, I will even allow it to be carnal, for " I am carnal,
sold under sin," devoted to death, liable to sufferings
and sorrows. I am not, I acknowledge, insensible to
pain. The thought of death coming to me or to mine,
makes me shudder with horror. And Gerard was mine,
surely mine. How could he be other than mine, who
was my brother in blood, my son in religion, my father
in solicitude, my consort in spirit, my bosom friend in
love ? He has abandoned me now, and I feel as if
I were wounded, aye, wounded unto death,

Forgive me, my children. Rather, because you are
my children, compassionate your father's distress.
" Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you,
my friends," who know how heavily the hand of the
Lord has been laid upon me for my faults. With the
rod of His indignation He has stricken me, justly indeed,
according to my deserts, but severely, considering my
weakness. Surely no one who understands what Gerard
was to me, will say it is a light punishment for me to
be condemned to live without him. Yet, " I will not
contradict the words of the Holy One." I do not find
fault with the judgment, by which each of us has re-
ceived what we severally deserved, he the crown, and
I the cross. Or shall it be said that I resist the

296 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

judgment because I feel the pain ? But to smart under
the lash is not the same thing as to rebel against
authority, for the former is but human, whilst the
latter is an act of impiety. It is human, I say, and
necessary to feel pleasure in the society of our friends,
and sorrow in their absence. Familiar intercourse,
especially between persons very dear to each other,
has the effect of binding their hearts together. And
this result, produced by mutual love in the friends
whilst enjoying each other's company, is revealed by
their fear of parting, and by the sorrow they experi-
ence when actually separated. I grieve for thee, my
best-beloved Gerard, not as if thy lot were pitiable, but
only because thou art with me no more. And perhaps
for this reason, I ought to grieve not for thee, but only
for myself, who am still drinking of the chalice of bitter-
ness. And the grief should be for me alone, because
I drink alone, since thou hast no part with me in this
cup. I alone have to suffer all the anguish which is
accustomed to be shared equally by friends who, loving
each other tenderly, are compelled to part.

Would to God I were certain that thou art not lost to
me for ever, but only gone on before ! Would to God I
had assurance that, even though late, yet at length I
shall follow thee, whithersoever thou hast gone ! I have
no doubt at all but that thou art now with those whom,
about the middle of thy last night on earth, thou didst
invite to praise the Lord, when, with beaming face and
exulting voice, to the astonishment of all present, thou
didst suddenly cry out in the words of David, " Praise
ye the Lord from the heavens ; praise ye Him in the
high places." For on thee, brother mine, though it
was still midnight, the dawn had then already broken,

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 297

and thy " night was illuminated as the day." And
assuredly that " night was thy light in thy pleasures."
I was summoned to witness this miracle, the miracle
of a man triumphantly awaiting the approach of death
and mocking at its terrors. " 0 death, where is thy
victory ? O death, where is thy sting ? " No, it had
not any sting of fear or pain for him, but only an
impulse to jubilant song. For he sang as he died and
he died as he sang. O death, the mother of sorrows,
thou art now become a source of joy ! Thou, the
enemy of glory, art now forced to subserve the interests
of glory ! The gate of hell, thou art changed to the
portal of heaven ! The very pit of perdition, thou art
made the means of salvation ! And all that accom-
plished by a sinful mortal ! Justly indeed, since thou
in thy rashness didst impiously usurp dominion over
the just and innocent Man. Thou art dead, O death !
Thou hast been caught in that Divine Hook Which thou
didst so incautiously swallow, and Whose words we read
in the Prophet, " O death, I will be thy death ; O hell,
I will be thy bite." Pierced, I say, with that Divine
Hook, thou dost now afford to the faithful who pass
through the midst of thee, a broad and pleasant passage
into life. It was through thy open jaws that Gerard
entered the fatherland, not alone with confidence, but
even with joy and with songs of praise. When, there-
fore, I had reached his bedside, and had heard him
completing the psalm with a clear voice, raising his
eyes to heaven, he exclaimed, " Father, into Thy hands
I commend my spirit." Then, repeating the same
words, with frequent cries of " Father, Father," he
turned to me, his countenance radiant, and said,
" Oh, what a condescension on the part of God to

298 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

become the Father of men ! And what glory to men
to be the sons and heirs of God ! ' For if sons, heirs
also.' " So sang he, my brethren, whom we now lament.
And I confess that the remembrance of this almost
changes my mourning into joy, for when I think of
his glory, I all but forget my own misery.

But bitter grief recalls me to myself. Anxious solici-
tude quickly turns away my attention from that con-
soling vision, as if awakening me from a light slumber.
I will weep, therefore, but only for myself, since reason
forbids me to weep for him. I believe, if he were now
permitted to hold communication with us, that he
would say, " Weep not over me, but weep for your-
selves." King David had reason to mourn for his
parricidal son, because he knew that for him the exit
from the womb of death was for ever blocked by the
obstruction of his crime. Good cause had he also to
sorrow over Saul and Jonathan, who were both swallowed
up together in a common destruction, without any hope
of a future deliverance. They shall rise, indeed, but not
to life. Or rather, they shall even rise to life, but only
in order that, living in everlasting death, they may
die the more miserably. Yet I feel some hesitation,
and not without cause, about including Jonathan in
this sentence of doom. But although I have not the
same reasons for my lamentation as King David had
for his, I am not in want of others. In the first place
I grieve over my own loss and over the loss sustained
by the community. I grieve, in the second place, on
account of the necessities of the poor, to whom Gerard
was as a father. I grieve, thirdly, for the sake of our
whole Order and of the religious state in general, which
derived no little support and edification from the in-

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 299

fluence of thy zeal, the counsels of thy wisdom, and the
example of thy life, O my brother. I grieve, lastly,
although not over thee, dearest Gerard, yet on account
of thee. This, this is the cause of my greatest affliction,
my passionate love of thee. And let no man be trouble-
some to me, telling me that I should not allow myself
to be so overcome by natural feelings. For the kind-
hearted Samuel was permitted to indulge his sorrow
over the reprobate King Saul, and the pious David
over the treacherous Absalom, and that, without the
least prejudice to their faith, or the least opposition to
heaven's appointment. "Absalom, my son!" wailed
holy David, " my son, Absalom ! " " And behold, a
greater than " Absalom " is here." The Saviour Him-
self, looking upon Jerusalem, and foreseeing the fate
that was soon to befall it, " wept over it." And shall
not I be suffered to feel my own desolation, which
is not future but actually present ? Must I remain in-
sensible and irresponsive to the smarting of my fresh
and grievous wound ? Surely I may weep from pain
since Jesus wept from compassion. For at the grave
of Lazarus He certainly did not reprove the mourners,
nor command them to desist ; but, on the contrary,
He united His own tears with theirs. " And Jesus
wept," says the Evangelist. Those tears of His, most
assuredly, betrayed no want of confidence, but only
testified to the reality of His Human Nature. For He
immediately called upon the dead man, in order to
show us that faith suffers no loss from the affection of
sorrow.

So neither is my weeping a sign of a weak faith,
but only an indication of my condition. From the
fact that I cry out with pain on being smitten, it must

300 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

not be supposed that I blame Him Who smites me.
I only appeal to His compassion, and endeavour as
best I can to soften His severity. Hence, though
my words are full of gtief, they are yet free from
murmuring. Have I not acknowledged the per-
fection of His justice Who, by one compendious sen-
tence, assigned to Gerard the reward, and to me the
chastisement due to our respective merits ? And still
I say, the " sweet and righteous Lord " has done well
by us both. " Mercy and judgment I will sing to Thee,
O Lord." Let the mercy, which Thou hast shown
to Thy servant Gerard, sing to Thee. And let the
judgment, under which I groan, sing to Thee also. In
the one Thou shalt be praised for Thy goodness, in the
other for Thy justice. Or is there praise for goodness
only ? Yea, and for justice as well. "Thou art just,
0 Lord, and Thy judgment right." Gerard Thou
gavest, Gerard Thou hast taken away ; and if we lament
his removal, we do not forget that he was but a loan.
So we feel thankful that we were accounted worthy to
have him even for a while. And our unwillingness to
lose him is proportionate to the need which we had
of him.

But I remember, O Lord, my compact and Thy
condescension, "that Thou mayst be justified in Thy
words, and mayst overcome when Thou art judged."
Last year when we were in Viterbo, in the cause of the
Church, Gerard fell ill. His sickness grew more and
more serious, until it seemed now that death was at
hand. I could by no means reconcile myself to the
thought of leaving in a foreign land the companion of
my journey, and such a companion ; nor would any-
thing content me except to restore him to the com-

LAMENT OVER HIS BROTHER 301

munity who had entrusted him to my care, for I knew
how much all loved him, who in truth was exceedingly
lovable. So I betook myself to prayer, with tears
and sighs. And I said to Thee, "Wait, O Lord, wait
until we have returned home. When he is restored to
his brethren, take him then, if it pleases Thee, and I
shall not complain." Thou didst grant my petition.
Gerard recovered. We performed the task which Thou
gavest us to do, and came back " with exultations,
bearing the sheaves " of peace. Then I forgot our
agreement, but Thou didst not forget. I am ashamed
of these sobbings, which convict me of unfaithfulness.
Why should I say more ? Thou hast but claimed back
what Thou didst lend us. Thou hast but taken what is
Thine. But I am now compelled to put an end to
my words by the flow of my tears. Do Thou, O Lord,
I implore Thee, put an end and a limit to them.

SERMON XXVII

In what sense the Beauty of the Spouse may be
compared to the curtains of solomon.

"As the curtains oj Solomon."

Now that we have discharged the duty, imposed by
charity and natural affection, of escorting, so to speak,
our friend Gerard on his way home from this land of
exile, I purpose to take up again to-day the interrupted
work of your edification. For it is an unseemly thing,
in my opinion, to prolong our lamentations over one
who rejoices, and an unmannerly thing to obtrude our
tears on one who is seated at a banquet. And if we
mourn for our own misery, we ought to take care that
this be not excessive, lest otherwise we should seem
to have loved Gerard not so much for his own sake
as for the advantages which we derived from his pres-
ence. Then, let the thought of our dear one's joy
temper the sorrow of the desolate. Let the belief that
he is present and united with God render more en-
durable his absence from ourselves. Relying, therefore,
on your prayers, I shall endeavour and do my best to
throw light upon that mystery, whatever it is, which
I perceive to be wrapped up in those curtains, referred
to in illustration of the beauty of the Spouse. It has
been touched upon already, if you remember, but left
undiscussed. How the Spouse is "black as the tents of
Cedar," I have sufficiently examined and explained.

But how are we to understand the comparison " beau-

302

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 303

tiful as the curtains of Solomon " ? As if, forsooth,
Solomon " in all his glory " possessed anything worthy
to be compared to the beauty of the Spouse, or to the
magnificence of her ornamentation. Were we to say
that these mysterious curtains, just as the " tents of
Cedar," are likened not to the Spouse's beauty, but
to her blackness, the similitude would perhaps be
intelligible, and I should not be at a loss for
reasons to explain its congruity, as indeed I intend
to prove to you later on. But if we suppose
that the splendour and glory of some kind of
curtains is to be considered as bearing an analogy
and a resemblance to the beauty of the Spouse, I
certainly have particular need here of the assistance
of Him Whose light you have implored, in order that
I may be able to fathom this mystery and to unfold
it in a manner befitting its dignity. For which of
those things, which shine exteriorly, does not appear
vile and hideous to a man of sound judgment, when
compared with the interior grandeur of even any holy
soul ? What, I ask, can be found in this world, whose
"fashion passeth away," possessing a beauty at all
comparable to that of the soul, which, having put off
the oldness of the earthly man, has put on the glory
of the heavenly, and adorned, not with the vanity of
material decorations, but with the magnificent jewels of
noble virtues, appears higher and purer than the heavens,
more resplendent than the sun ? Do not, therefore,
look to the earthly Solomon, when you desire to ascer-
tain what those curtains are, of her resemblance to
which in loveliness the Spouse is here represented as
boasting.
What, then, does she msan by saying, " I am

304 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

beautiful as the curtains of Solomon" ? These words,
my brethren, appear to me to contain a deep and mar-
vellous meaning, if we are allowed to suppose that the
reference is not to the historical Solomon, who reigned
in Jerusalem, but to Him Who said of Himself, " Be-
hold, a Greater than Solomon is here." For so truly
a Solomon is this Solomon of mine, that not only is
He called the Peaceful, which is the signification
of the word Solomon, but he is even named Peace,
since St. Paul tells us that " He is our Peace."
With this Solomon, no doubt, something can be
found which I need have no hesitation in comparing
to the beauty of the Spouse. And with regard
to the curtains in particular, observe what we read
in the psalm, " Who stretchest out the heavens like
a curtain*." Surely it was not the earthly and
merely human Solomon, wise though he was, and
very powerful, that so " stretched out the heavens like
a curtain," but rather He, Who, being not so much
wise as Wisdom Itself, not only stretched out but even
created the heavens. For it is to Him, and not to the
other, these words belong, " when He " — namely, God
the Father — " prepared the heavens, I was present."
Unquestionably the Father had present to Him His
Power and His Wisdom, that is to say, His Word,
" when He prepared the heavens." And do not imagine
that the Word stood by doing nothing, and merely as a
spectator, because He says, " I was present " and does
not add " I was preparing with Him." Read on a

* In the Douay Version the word "pellis," which in the
Canticle is rendered "curtain," is translated "pavilion" in
Psalm ciii. But St. Bernard's context requires this word to
be taken in the same sense in both places. — (Translator.)

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 305

little further, and you will find that addition explicitly
made, where He declares, " I was with Him forming all
things." He has also told us that " what things soever
He (the Father) doth, these the Son also doth in like
manner." Consequently, the Word as well as the
Father " stretched out the heavens like a curtain."
Most beautiful curtain, which with its wide expanse,
covers the whole face of the earth as with a canopy, and
delights the gaze of mortals with its wonderfully varied
ornaments of sun, and moon, and stars ! What can be
grander than this curtain ? What more magnificent
than the heavens ? Nevertheless, not even these are
in any sense comparable to the glory and loveliness of
the Spouse. For " the fashion " of such things " passeth
away," as being corporeal and perceptible to sense,
" for the things which are seen, are temporal, but the
things which are not seen, eternal."

The beauty of the Spouse, on the contrary, is some-
thing spiritual, and hence only to be discerned by
reason. It is also eternal, inasmuch as it is an image
of eternity. Her beauty, for instance, comprises charity,
and, as you have read, "charity never falleth off." It
also comprises justice, and her " justice continueth for
ever and ever." Patience, too, because, as it is written,
■ The patience of the poor shall not perish for ever."
What shall I say of her humility, of her voluntary
poverty, which also appertains to her beaut}' ? Does
not the one merit an eternal kingdom and the other
everlasting exaltation ? In that beauty is also found
" the fear of the Lord, holy, enduring for ever and ever."
And what are prudence, and temperance, and fortitude,
and all other virtues whatever but pearls, as it were,
in the adornment of the Spouse, gleaming with an im-
1* u

3o6 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

mortal brightness? I say with an immortal brightness,
because that brightness of the virtues is really the seat
and support of immortal life. For there is no place
at all in the soul for such a never-fading and blissful
life except on the foundation and basis of the virtues.
Hence the Prophet says to God, Who is the true blessed
Life, "Justice and judgment are the preparation of
Thy seat." And the Apostle prays " that Christ may
dwell," not in every or any manner, but particularly
" by faith in your hearts." So also when the Lord
was about to sit upon the ass's colt, the disciples laid
their garments thereon, signifying that the Saviour or
salvation will not rest upon the soul unless her naked-
ness be covered with the apostolic doctrine and virtues.
The Church, therefore, having the promise of future
felicity, takes care, meantime, to prepare and adorn
herself with " gilded clothing, surrounded with variety,"
the variety, that is, of graces and virtues, in order that
she may be found worthy and capable of the very
fulness of grace.

But even to this variety of spiritual beauty, which the
Spouse has received in the present life with the first robe
as it were, of the garments of her sanctification, I would
by no means compare the splendours of this visible and
corporeal firmament, most magnificent though it be
amongst material things, by reason of the splendoui
and diversity of its luminaries. Yet there is a " heaver
of heavens," of which the Psalmist says, " Sing ye t<
God, Who mount eth above the heaven of heavens t<
the east." This is the intellectual and spiritual heavenj
He " Who made the heavens in understanding," created
and established it for ever, and dwells therein Himseli
But do not suppose that the love of the Spouse remain

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 307

outside this heaven, in which her Beloved abides. For
where her treasure is there is her heart also. She
therefore feels jealous of those who are privileged to
contemplate that Divine Countenance Which she longs
to see ; and as she cannot as yet share the vision with
them, she tries to conform her life to theirs, crying out
more by her virtues than by her voice, " I have loved,
O Lord, the beauty of Thy house, and the place where
Thy glory dwelleth."

She certainly will not disdain to compare herself
to this heaven of heavens. It also, like the other,
is stretched out like a curtain, not indeed over extents
of corporeal spaces, but in the spiritual affections of
pure intelligences. And it is diversified with the
works of the great Artificer, as wonderful as they
are various. Again, there are in this heaven of
heavens distinctions, not of colours * but of glories.
For " God indeed hath set some " Angels, others Arch-
angels, others Virtues, others Dominations, others Prin-
cipalities, others Powers, others still Thrones, still others
Cherubim, and others again Seraphim. These are
the stars that adorn the heaven of heavens. These
constitute the embroidery of this curtain, which is one
of those belonging to my Solomon, and indeed is dis-
tinguished above all the others by the endless variety
of decorations which make up its multiform glory.
But this immense curtain contains within itself innu-
merable others, all equally curtains of Solomon, since
every one of its blissful and holy inmates may be
truly called in itself a curtain of Solomon. For they
are all kind and " stretched out " in charity, extending

* "Colorum." Other readings are " coelorum " (of heavens)
and " locorum " (of places). — (Translator.)

308 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

even to us. Nor do they begrudge us a share in
the glory which they enjoy themselves, but rather
desire it for us, and for this reason some of
their number are content to associate with us,
busying themselves about our interests and taking
us under their care. " For are they not all
ministering spirits, sent to minister for them who shall
receive the inheritance of salvation? " Wherefore, just
as all these blessed spirits, considered as a collective
unity, are called the " heaven of heaven " (coelum coeli)
in the singular, so, regarded as a multitude of distinct
and independent beings, they are named the " heavens
of heavens " (coeli coelorum) since each angel is a
heaven in and by himself, and to each may be
applied the words " stretching out the heavens like a
curtain." You now understand, I think, what these
curtains are which the Spouse is proud to resemble, and
to what Solomon they belong.

Let us next consider the glory of her who compares
herself to the heavens, and to that heaven which is
the more glorious in proportion as it represents the
Divine Perfections in a more excellent way. Not un-
reasonably does she derive a similitude thence whence
she has derived her existence. For if she likens herself
to the tents of Cedar on account of the body which is
drawn from the earth, why should she not boast of
an equal resemblance to heaven, by reason of the spirit
which is heavenly * in its origin ? Especially, when

* " Propter animam quae de coelo est." For two reasons the
soul may be said to have come from heaven : bcth because it
has been produced, not from the slime of the earth like the body,
but by a direct exercise of the divine creative power, and also
because it in a more especial manner has been made to the
image and likeness of God. Berengarius fastened upon these

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 309

her life bears witness to that celestial parentage, as
well as to the dignity of her nature and the nobility
of her fatherland. She adores and honours one God,
like the angels. She loves Christ above all, as do the
angels. Like the angels, she is chaste ; but her chastity,
unlike the chastity of the angels, is preserved in the
flesh of sin and in a frail body. Lastly, she seeks and
relishes only the things that are above where the angels
abide, and not the things which are upon the earth.
What could be a more evident mark of celestial origin
than so to retain the inborn resemblance to the spiritual
creation in a world where everything is material ? to
exhibit the glory of a heavenly life on earth and in
exile ? to live as an angel in a body that is almost
bestial ? Effects of this character have for their cause
not an earthly, but a divine principle, and clearly indi-
cate the supernal birth of the soul wherein they are
manifested. But listen to St. John declaring the same
more explicitly : " I, John, saw the Holy City, the
new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God,
prepared as a bride adorned for her husband." And
he adds, " And I heard a great voice from the throne
saying : Behold the tabernacle of God with men, and
He will dwell with them." Why, do you ask ? As I
believe, in order that He may take to Himself a Bride
from amongst men. Strange ! He came for a Spouse

words of St. Bernard and argued against him dilemrnatically
to this effect : " If the soul comes from heaven, then either it
must be said that the body also is of heavenly origin, or else that
the soul has existed before its union with the body. To main-
tain the first is the height of stupidity, to maintain the second
is to fall into the error of Origen." As regards the latter point,
the Saint expressly teaches elsewhere that the creation of the
soul and its union with the body are simultaneous — " Creatur
immittendo, it creando immittur." — (Translator.)

3io ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

yet came not without a Spouse. He sought a Spouse,
whilst having a Spouse with Him. Shall we say that
there are two Spouses ? God forbid ! One " is My
Spouse," He has told us, " My Dove is but one." But
just as He desired to form His different flocks of sheep
into one " that there may be one fold and one Shep-
herd " ; so, likewise, in order that there may be one
Bridegroom and one Bride, it has pleased Him to
unite the Church of men which He has established on
earth, to that other Church in heaven, composed of
the multitude of angels, which, as a Spouse, has cleaved
to Him from the beginning. Therefore, by this her
union with the earthly Spouse, the heavenly has not
been duplicated but only made perfect. And so she
understands what the Bridegroom says of her, " My
perfect one is but one." Besides conformity with the
will of the same Beloved makes one of the two Spouses
here, by similarity of devotion, as it will make them
more one hereafter by equality of glory.

So you see, my brethren, that both come from heaven,
Jesus, the Bridegroom, and His Bride the New Jeru-
salem. He, in order to make Himself visible, " emptied
Himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in
the likeness of men, and in habit found as a man."
But in what form or beauty, or clothed with what
splendour are we to suppose that John, the Seer of
Patmos, beheld the Spouse descending ? Perhaps he
recognised her in the multitude of angels, whom he
observed " ascending and descending upon the Son of
Man " ? But it is better to say that he then saw the
Spouse, when he saw the Word made flesh, acknowl-
edging the " Two in the one flesh." For when our Most
Holy Emmanuel established on earth a school of heavenly

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 311

doctrine ; when the visible image of that supernal Jeru-
salem, "which is our mother," and the "loveliness of
her beauty," were revealed to us, as reflected through
and in the human life of the Bridegroom, what else
did we contemplate but the Spouse in her Beloved,
admiring in one and the same Lord of Glory both the
' Bridegroom decked with a crown " and the " Bride
adorned with her jewels" ? Therefore, He Who de-
scended is the Same Who also ascended, that " no man
may ascend into heaven, but He That descended from
heaven," one and the same Lord being a Bridegroom
in His Head, viz., in His Divinity, and as a Bride in
His Body, viz., in His Human Nature. And not in
vain did this heavenly Man appear here below, because
from earthly men He has made multitudes heavenly
like unto Himself, as it is written, " And such as is the
heavenly, so also are they that are heavenly." From
that time, the life of men on earth has approximated
to the life of the angels. Like the celestial and blissful
Spouse above, she also, that has been called " from the
ends of the earth to hear the wisdom of Solomon,"
cleaves with chaste affection to her heavenly Bride-
groom, to Whom, although not }^et, like that other,
united by vision, she is nevertheless espoused through
faith. This is what God promised by the mouth of
His Prophet, Osee, saying, "And I will espouse thee
to Me in justice, and judgment, and in mercy, and in
commiserations ; and I will espouse thee to Me in faith."
Hence, she endeavours to conform herself more and
more perfectly to her heavenly Model, learning from
Him to be modest and sober, to be chaste and holy,
to be patient and compassionate, to be " meek and
humble of heart." By the practice of these virtues

312 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

she tries, even during her exile here below, to please
Him " on Whom the angels desire to look " ; so that,
whilst she burns with the same ardent desire as these,
she may thus prove herself a "fellow-citizen with the
saints " and a " domestic of God," a " beloved one,"
and a Spouse.

Indeed, my brethren, it seems to me that every soul
which is animated by such sentiments, is not only
heavenly by reason of her origin, but may even herself
be justly called a heaven, * on account of her imitation
of the life above. For it is then she clearly shows
herself to be heaven-sprung, when her " conversation is
in heaven." Consequently, each holy soul may be
considered as a heaven in herselt, wherein the intellect
is as the sun, faith as the moon, and the different virtues
as the stars. Or perhaps I might call zeal for justice,
or fervent charity the sun, and continence the moon.
For just as we are told that all the glory of the moon
is borrowed from the sun, so continence has no merit,
independent of justice and charity. Hence, the Wise
Man exclaims, " Oh how beautiful is the chaste gene-
ration with glory ! " That is to say, with charity. Nor
do I think I have erred in calling the virtues the stars
of the soul. A little reflection makes manifest the
aptness of the image. For as the stars glitter in the
night and fade by day, in the same manner, true
virtue often lies concealed in the day of prosperity,
but shines out resplendent in the night of adversity.

* " ' Heaven is My seat,' says the Lord by the mouth of His
Prophet ; and Solomon tells us that ' the soul of the just is
the seat of wisdom.' But the Apostle calls Christ the Wisdom
of God. Since, therefore, Wisdom is God, and heaven the seat
of God, and the just soul the seat of wisdom, it clearly follows
that the just soul is entitled to be called a heaven." — (St.
Gregory the Great, Horn. 38 in Evangel. — (Translator.)

THE BEAUTY OF TEE SPOUSE 313

This occultation of virtue is due to prudence, as its
manifestation is enforced by necessity. Therefore, since
virtues are stars, the virtuous man may rightly be called
a heaven. For surely we are not to suppose that when
as we read, God said through His Prophet, "Heaven
is My seat," He meant this visible and changeable
heaven above us, and not rather that of which the
Scriptures more clearly speak elsewhere, telling us that
" The soul of the just man is the seat of wisdom."
Now, he who understands from the teaching of Christ
that God is a Spirit requiring to be adored in spirit,
will certainly not hesitate to assign to Him also a
spiritual seat. And I would confidently maintain that
such a seat is to be assigned Him, not less in the soul
of the just man than in the angelic spirit. I am especi-
ally confirmed in this view by the Saviour's faithful
promise, "We," viz., the Father and Himself, "will
come to him," that is, to the holy soul, " and will
make Our abode with him." It is, as I think, of the
same heaven that the Prophet also spoke when he
said, " But thou dwell est in the holy place, the Praise
of Israel." And St. Paul evidently refers to it when
he prays that " Christ may dwell by faith in your
hearts."

Nor should it surprise us, my brethren, that the
Lord Jesus delights to dwell in the heaven of the just
human soul, which He not only called into being by His
omnipotence, as the other spirits, but He fought to ac-
quire it, and He died to redeem it. Hence, after His
labour, when He had now attained the object of His
desire, He exclaimed, " This is My rest for ever and
ever, here will I dwell because I have chosen it." Aad
blessed is that soul to which it is said, " Come My

314 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

chosen one, and I will place My throne in thee." But
now, " Why art thou sad, O my soul, and why dost
thou trouble me ? " Dost thou not think that even
thou canst find in thyself a seat for the Lord ? But
what seat have we in ourselves befitting such glory,
suitable to such Majesty ? Would to God I were worthy
even to " adore in the place where His Feet have stood " !
Who will grant me at least to follow faithfully in the
footsteps of some holy soul which " He hath chosen
for His dwelling " ? Yet, oh, that He would deign to
anoint my soul, too, with the unction of His mercy,
and so to " stretch it out like a curtain," which, when
oiled, is easily extended ! Then should I also be able
to sing, " I have run the way of Thy commandments,
when Thou didst enlarge my heart." And perchance, I
might be able to show Him in myself, if not " a large
dining-room furnished " where He might recline with
His disciples, at least a place " where to rest His Head."
At any rate, I shall lift up my eyes from my lowly
station to those blessed ones of whom it is said, " I
will dwell in them and walk in them."

Oh, how great is the amplitude, how great the merit
and the prerogative of that soul which is found worthy to
receive and sufficient to contain in herself the presence
of the Divinity ! What must be her dimensions, since
she is required to include spacious recreation-grounds
for the Divine Majesty to walk in ! Certainly, such a
soul does not entangle herself in litigation, or in worldly
solicitudes. Neither does she give herself up to the
delights of the flesh or the pleasures of the table. There
is found no place in her for the ambition to rule, no
pride of domination. For the soul that would become
a heaven, a dwelling of God, must, in the first place,

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 315

be entirely free from all these passions. Otherwise,
how could she obey His command, ' be still and
see that I am God " ? But it is also necessary
to renounce hatred, and envy, and rancour, " for
wisdom will not enter into a malicious soul."
It is further requisite that the soul should grow
and expand in order to make room in herself for the
Divine Immensity. Now, love is the enlargement of
the soul, as the Apostle says, " Be enlarged in charity."
For although, as a spirit, she does not admit of cor-
poreal expansion, yet, what nature denies her in the
material sense, she acquires spiritually through grace.
She therefore both increases and expands, but in a
manner consonant with her spiritual nature. She in-
creases not in substance but in virtue. She increases
also in glory, " and groweth up into an holy temple in
the Lord." She increases, lastly, and develops " unto
a perfect man, unto the measure of the age of the fulness
of Christ." Consequently, the magnitude of every soul
is to be estimated in accordance with the degree of
charity which she possesses, so that, the soul, for in-
stance, which has great charity should be regarded as
great, and the soul with little charity as little, and the
soul possessing no charity, as nothing. Hence the
Apostle declares, " If I have not charity, I am nothing."
But if a soul begins to have charity, albeit in some very
low degree, but so much at any rate as gives the good
will to salute her brethren, and those who salute her,
I should call that soul not nothing, but next to nothing,
because she retains at least this social affection, ex-
hibited and consisting in such an interchange of cour-
tesies. Yet I might ask in the words of the Lord, what
more does she do ? Neither ample nor great, but

316 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

narrow and little, should I therefore esteem a soul of
this kind, which I recognised to be so little in charity.
But if she grows and progresses, so that, overstepping
the limits of a straitened and ungenerous love, she
attains, in perfect liberty of spirit, to the broad plains
of spontaneous kindness, and endeavours to stretch
out the curtains of her good will, so as to cover all her
neighbours, loving each as she loves herself, surely,
then, we can no longer justly say to her, " what more
dost thou do ? " For has she not done much
more in making herself so much more ample?
Charity, I say, bears such an ample heart that it
embraces all within itself, even those whom it
recognises as connected with it by no ties of relation-
ship, those to whom it is bound by no hope of future
favour, and those to whom it is under no debt of
gratitude for benefits already received ; for it is subject
to no obligations except that of love, whereof the
Apostle says, " Owe no man anything, but to love one
another." But the soul may proceed still further. She
may even do violence to the kingdom of charity, and,
as a pious invader, prevail so far as to occupy its ter-
ritories to their uttermost bounds. This she will have
accomplished when she understands that not even to
her enemies must the bowels of her piety be closed,
when she does good to those who hate her, prays for
those who persecute and calumniate her, and tries to
live in peace even with those who hate peace. Then,
without doubt, the breadth of that soul shall be as the
breadth of heaven ; her height shall be as the height of
heaven, and her beauty as the beauty of heaven. And
thus shall be fulfilled in her that which is written,
" stretching out the heavens like a curtain." In this

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 317

heaven of wonderful breadth, height, and beauty, not
only will the sovereign, immense and all-glorious Deity
condescend to dwell, but He will even walk at large in
its wide expanses.

Do you perceive, my brethren, what varieties of
heavens the Church contains within her, whilst, in
her universality, she is herself an immense heaven,
" stretched out from sea to sea, and from the river
unto the ends of the earth " ? Then see also, by con-
sequence, to what she is to be compared in this par-
ticular, unless perchance you have forgotten the ex-
amples I gave you a while ago, of the " heaven of
heaven," and the " heavens of heavens." Therefore,
after the pattern of that Jerusalem, which is above,
and is our mother, this of earth, which is still in exile,
has its heavens, viz., its spiritual men, illustrious in
their lives and reputations, sound in faith, firm in hope,
" stretched out like curtains " in charity, sublime in
contemplation. They distil rain, too, these spiritual
heavens, but it is the saving rain of the word, just as
they thunder in their reproofs and lighten in their
miracles. Also, they " shew forth the glory of God " ;
because " stretched out like curtains " over the whole
earth, they exhibit a "law of life and discipline " in-
scribed in themselves by the finger of God, in order
" to give a knowledge of salvation to His people."
They publish, moreover, the Gospel of peace, as being
the curtains of Solomon, the " Peaceful."

In these spiritual, yet earthly, curtains of holy men,
my brethren, you now recognise the image of the su-
pernal, which were described quite recently, in connexion
with the adornments of the Bridegroom. You also re-
cognise the queen standing at His right Hand, decorated

318 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

with similar, yet inferior ornaments. For she, even " in
the place of her sojourn," as well as "in the day of her
power," possesses not a little of glory and beauty " in
the splendours of the saints." But not like her Beloved
is she crowned with the complete and consummated
glory of the saints. Still, I might describe the Spouse,
too, as perfect and blissful, although only in part.
For in part she is yet as the " tents of Cedar." Never-
theless, she is beautiful, both in that part of her which
already reigns in bliss, and also in the illustrious men
by whose virtues and wisdom she is adorned on earth,
as the firmament with its stars. Hence the Prophet
Daniel says, " But they that are learned shall shine as
the brightness of the firmament ; and they that instruct
many to justice, as stars for all eternity."

O humility ! O sublimity ! A "tent of Cedar," and
a sanctuary of God ! An earthly habitation, and a
heavenly mansion ! A house of clay, and a royal
palace ! A " body of death " and a temple of light !
The scorn of the proud and the Bride of Christ ! She
is " black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem."
For although the labour and the pain of a long exile
have darkened her complexion, all the same, she is
clothed with the beauty of heaven, and adorned with
the " curtains of Solomon." If you are displeased with
her blackness, at least admire her loveliness. If you
despise her humility, you must respect her sublimity.
How prudently and wisely, how dis:reetly and be-
fittingly has it been arranged that, in the Spouse,
abjection and elevation should so counterbalance and
compensate each other, "according to the time," that,
amidst the vicissitudes of this world, sublimity lifts her
up when cast down by misfortune, lest she should faint

THE BEAUTY OF THE SPOUSE 319

in adversity, and humility depresses her elation, lest
she should grow vain in prosperity ! And thus, both the
one and the other, opposed as they are in themselves,
are wondrously made to co-operate into good for her,
and to subserve her eternal salvation.

So much for the simile by which the Spouse seems
to compare her beauty to the curtains of Solomon.
It remains now to put before you that other interpre-
tation of the same text, which I mentioned and prom-
ised at the beginning of this discourse, namely, to
consider both comparisons, as well that of Solomon's
curtains as that of the tents of Cedar, as referring to
the blackness of the Spouse. I certainly purpose to
be faithful to my engagement. But this exposition
requires a special sermon to itself, both because the
present is already too long, and also in order to give
you time for prayer, that you may, as usual, call down
a blessing upon what I shall have to say unto the praise
and glory of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus
Christ, Our Lord, Who is God blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXVIII

The Curtains of Solomon are explained in refer-
ence to the Blackness of the Bridegroom and
the Bride.

"As the curtains of Solomon."

You remember, I suppose, what, in my opinion,
those curtains are to which the Spouse compares her
beauty, and to what Solomon they belong, that is, if
we wish to refer the simile drawn from them to the
illustration and commendation of that beauty. But if
we prefer to understand this, as well as the comparison
with the tents of Cedar, of the Spouse's blackness, I
can think of no other curtains of Solomon, but those
which the King used himself whenever it pleased him
to dwell in tents. The exterior of such curtains, if
indeed there were any, must doubtless have been dis-
coloured and blackened from daily exposure to the
sun and from the injurious effects of the frequent rains.
Nor were they so exposed without reason, but in order
that he who reposed within, decked with his royal orna-
ments, might be preserved from any stain of defilement.
By this similitude, therefore, the Spouse does not deny
her blackness, but excuses it. Never shall she disdain
any robe which charity forms and the judgment of
truth does not condemn. For "who is weak and"
she " is not weak ? Who is scandalised and " she
" is not on fire ? " She assumes the swarthiness of com-
passion in order to cure or to soothe the maladies of

320

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 321

evil passion in others. She grows dark through zeal
for brightness, she becomes black in the quest after
beauty.

Thus, the blackness of One makes many white, not
the blackness caused by sin, but that which results
from solicitude. As we read, "It is expedient for you
that one Man should die for the people, and that the
whole nation perish not." It is expedient that One
should be discoloured for the sake of all, " in the like-
ness of sinful flesh," lest the whole nation should be
condemned on account of the blackness of sin ; that
the Splendour and the Figure of the Substance of the
Divinity be shrouded in the form of a servant to save
the life of a servant ; that the Brightness of Eternal
Life should grow dim in the flesh for the purification of
the flesh ; that He Who is " beautiful above the sons
of men " should, in order to enlighten the sons of men,
suffer the eclipse of His Passion, the disgrace of the
cross, the discoloration of death ; and that He should
be divested completely of all beauty and comeliness, that
so He might win for Himself in the Church a comely
and beautiful Spouse, without spot or wrinkle. I re-
cognise King Solomon's curtain. Rather, I embrace
Solomon Himself under His black curtain. For even
Solomon has blackness, but only in His curtain, that
is, in His skin. He is dark exteriorly, dark in His
skin, not in His interior, because " all the glory of the
King's daughter is within." Within is the White Light
of the Divinity, the loveliness of the virtues, the splen-
dour of glory, the purity of innocence. But all this
beauty is concealed under the ignoble hue of infirmity.
For " His look is, as it were, hidden and despised,"
whilst He is being " tempted in all things like as we are,
1. x

322 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

without sin." I recognise the symbol and type of our
sin-blackened nature. I recognise those curtains, those
garments of skins wherewith our guilty first parents
covered their nakedness. For He made Himself black,
"taking the form of a servant, being made in the
likeness of men and in habit found as a man." I re-
cognise under the skin of the kid, which signifies sin,
the Hand of Him " Who hath done no sin," and the
Neck through which the thought of evil never passed,
and therefore " neither was there deceit in His Mouth."
I know that thou art of a gentle nature, " meek and
humble of heart," of gracious aspect and amiable dis-
position, for Thou art " anointed with the oil of glad-
ness above Thy fellows." How, then, dost Thou now
appear rough and hairy like Esau ? What means this
blackness? And these wrinkles on Thy Brow that
should be white and smooth ? Whence this hairy cover-
ing on Thy Hands ? Ah, yes, I understand. They are
mine. These hairy Hands signify that Thou hast
taken upon Thee the likeness of my sinful flesh. This
shagginess I recognise as my own, and as holy Job
predicted, in my own skin " I see God, my Saviour."

But it was not Rebecca, but Mary, that clothed this
my Jacob, Who was the more deserving to receive a pa-
ternal blessing than His type, in proportion as He was
born of a holier Mother. And rightly does He appear in
my garments, since it is for me that the blessing is
obtained, for me the inheritance is solicited. For He
has heard His Father promising "Ask of Me and I
will give Thee the Gentiles for Thy inheritance, and the
utmost parts of the earth for Thy possession." " Thy
inheritance," the Father says, and " Thy possession I
will give to Thee," But how canst Thou give Him

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 323

what is His already ? And why dost thou bid Him to
ask ? Or how is that His which it is necessary He should
ask for ? It is, therefore, not for Himself He is to ask,
but for me. And it is for this that He has assumed
my nature, in order to plead my cause. For, as the
Prophet declares, "the chastisement of our peace is
upon Him, and the Lord hath laid on Him the ini-
quity of us all." " Wherefore," concludes the Apostle,
" it behoved Him in all things to be made like to His
brethren, that He might become merciful." Hence, " the
voice indeed is the voice of Jacob, but the hands are the
hands of Esau." What is heard from Him is His own,
but that which is seen in Him is ours. What He
speaks is "spirit and life," what He exhibits to our
sight is mortality and death. We see one thing and we
believe another. Sense reports Him black, but faith
discovers Him to be white and beautiful. Black in
truth He is, but only to the eyes of the foolish. For
to the minds of the faithful He appears wondrously
fair and lovely. He is " black but beautiful," black in
the estimation of Herod, beautiful in the confession of
the Thief and in the faith of the Centurion.

Certainly, His exceeding beauty did not escape the
observation of him who exclaimed, " Indeed, this Man
was the Son of God." But wherein he discovered that
beauty, we have now, my brethren, to ascertain. For
if he attended to external appearances, in what respect
did the Saviour show Himself beautiful, in what the
Son of God ? What did He exhibit to the eyes of the
spectators except unsightliness and blackness, whilst,
hanging between two criminals, with His arms ex-
tended on the cross, He became an Object of ridicule
to the malignant, and of compassion to the faithful?

324 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

He alone excited laughter, Who alone could have ex-
cited fear, and Who alone could have demanded honour.
How, then, did the Centurion discover the beauty of
the Crucified, and the Divine Sonship of Him Who
" was reputed with the wicked " ? It is neither right
nor necessary for me to reply to this question, since
the vigilance of the Evangelist has not allowed it to
pass unanswered. For thus we read, " And the Cen-
turion, who stood over against Him, seeing that crying
out in this manner, He had given up the ghost, said :
Indeed, this Man was the Son of God." It was, there-
fore, at the sound of His voice that he believed. It
was the voice, not the Face, that revealed to him the
Son of God. For perhaps he was one of those sheep
of His, whereof He said, " My sheep hear My voice."

Hearing discovered that which escaped the sense of
sight. The eye was imposed upon by the colour, but
the truth entered the mind through the avenue of the
ear. For the eye pronounced Christ to be weak, un-
sightly, miserable, a Man condemned to a most igno-
minious death. But the ear recognised that He was
beautiful, that He was the Son of God, not, however,
the ear of the Jews, because they were " uncircumcised
in ears." With good reason, therefore, did St. Peter
cut ofl the external ear of the servant, in order to
open a way for truth, that the truth might emancipate
him, that is, might make him free. The Centurion also
was uncircumcised, but not in ear, since from one cry
of the dying Saviour, he recognised in Him the Lord
of Majesty amidst so many evidences of weakness.
And as he believed what he did not see, he did not
contemn that which met his eye. It was not what
he beheld that made him believe, but what he heard,

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 325

because " faith cometh by hearing." It were more
fitting, indeed, that truth should enter the soul by the
upper windows of the eyes. But this, O my soul, is
reserved for the next life, when we shall see " face to
face." Meantime, let the remedy find its way into our
minds through the same aperture as the malady of old ;
let life follow in the tracks of death ; let light travel in
the path of darkness ; and let the antidote of truth
enter by the same door as the poison of the old serpent,
and heal the eye, which is "troubled," in order that
it may serenely contemplate Him Who is inaccessible
to trouble. So let the ear, which was the first gate
open to death, be also the first open to life. Let the
hearing, which was the means of destroying the sight,
be made the means of its restoration ; because unless
we believe we shall not be able to understand.* Con-
sequently, merit belongs to hearing, and reward to
sight. Hence the Psalmist sings, "To my hearing
Thou shalt give joy and gladness." For the Beatific
Vision is the reward of faithful hearing, because it is by
faithful hearing that we merit the Beatific Vision. Again,
the Lord says, " Blessed are the clean of heart, for
they shall see God." Now, the eye that is to behold
God must first be purified by the faith that " cometh
by hearing," as we read, " purifying their hearts by
faith."

In the meantime, then, until the sense of sight is
fully prepared for its most perfect functions, let the
hearing be aroused and exercised in receiving truth.
Happy the man of whom Truth Itself bears witness,

* An allusion to the scholastic formula, " credo ut intelligam "
or perhaps to Is. vii. 9 (Juxta Sept.), " nisi credideritis non in-
teiligetis. "— (Translator).

326 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

saying, " At the hearing of the ear he hath obeyed
Me ! " For I shall then only be worthy to see, if before
seeing I shall have been found obedient . Securely shall
I gaze upon my Lord, if He has already received the
service of my obedience. How blessed was he who said,
" The Lord hath opened my ear, and I do not resist,
I have not gone back ! " Here you have a pattern of
voluntary obedience, and also an example of persever-
ance. For he who does not contradict is prompt to
obey ; and he has perseverance who turns not back.
Both virtues are necessary, since " God loveth a cheerful
giver," and " he that shall persevere unto the end
he shall be saved." Would that the Lord would open
my ear, that the word of truth might enter my heart,
and purify my eye, and prepare it for the blissful
Vision ! Then I, too, might say to God, " Thine Ear
hath heard the preparation of my heart." Then might
I, too, with His other obedient servants, hear from
Him, " And you are clean because of the word which
I have spoken to you." For not all who hear are
cleansed, but only those that obey. " Blessed are they
who hear the word of God and keep it." Such a heedful
hearing is required by Him Who commands, saying,
" Hear, O Israel." And it is this hearing of obedience
that he offered who said, " Speak, Lord, because Thy
servant heareth ." The same is promised by the Psalmist,
when he says, " I will hear what the Lord God will
speak in me."

" Hearken, O daughter, and see." So speaks the
Holy Ghost, my brethren, wishing thus to make us
understand the order He observes in leading souls to
perfection, first instructing the ear and afterwards
delighting the vision. Why, then, do you strain your

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 327

eyes for the sight of the divine beauty, when you ought
rather to be preparing your ears to receive the divine
truth ? Are you yearning to see Christ ? But it is
necessary to hear Him first, and to hear of Him, so that
when you do see Him, you may be able to say, " As
we have heard, so have we seen." Through so narrow
and so small an opening as the aperture of the eye
you cannot surely hope to take in a glory so immense.
But you may do by hearing what is impossible to
sight. Being then a sinner, I could not see God when
He called, saying, " Adam, where art thou ? " Yet I
heard Him. But if the hearing be found pious, vigilant
and faithful, it will restore the lost vision. Faith will
certainly purge the eye " troubled " by impiety ; and
the eye that has been closed by the sin of insubordina-
tion will be opened by the merit of obedience. This
the Psalmist acknowledges as having occurred in his
own case, when he sings, " By Thy commandments
I have had understanding." For the observance of
the divine precepts gives back the understanding
which had been lost through transgression. And
notice in the case of holy Isaac, how in his old age
his hearing, as we read, was more perfect than any
of the other senses. Dim were the eyes of the Patri-
arch, unreliable his faculties of taste and touch.
Only his hearing continued unimpaired. And what
wonder if the ear is percipient of truth, since " faith
cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ " ?
For the word of Christ is truth. " The voice, indeed,"
said Isaac, " is the voice of Jacob." Nothing more
true. " But the hands are the hands of Esau." Nothing
more false. Thou art here in error, holy Patriarch.
The resemblance of the hands deceives thee. Nor is

328 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

there discernment of truth in thy taste, although it is
true in its estimate of savour. For how can that
faculty be said to pronounce truly, since it judges the
food eaten to be venison, which, in reality, is only the
flesh of the domestic kids ? Much less oughtest thou
to look for truth in the testimony of thine eye which
perceives nothing at all. There is neither truth in th ;
eye, nor true wisdom. "Woe to you," says the Pro-
phet, " who are wise in your own eyes." Surely that
cannot be true wisdom which is thus accursed. It is
the " wisdom of this world," which is " foolishness with
God."

But good and true wisdom " is drawn out of secret
places," as blessed Job believed. Why then seek it
outside, in your bodily senses ? Wisdom resides in the
heart as taste in the palate. Seek not wisdom in the
material eye, since flesh and blood do not reveal it, but
only the Spirit of God. Neither should you look for it
in the taste of the mouth, because " it is not found in
the land of them that live in delights," as Job tells us.
Nor in the touch of the hand, for the same holy man
declares, "If I have kissed my hand with my mouth,
which is very great iniquity, and a denial against the
Most High God." As I understand it, the hand is thus
kissed when wisdom, which is God's gift, is ascribed,
not to Him, but to our own merits. Isaac was a wise
man, yet he was led astray by his senses. Hearing
alone takes hold of the truth, because it alone has per-
ception of the word. Justly, therefore, is the still
carnally-minded woman, Magdalen, forbidden to touch
the reanimated Flesh of the Word, because she gave
more credit to the eye than to the oracle, that is to
say, to the sense of the body, than to the word of

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 329

God. For she did not believe Him risen, though He
had promised to rise, whereas she believed Him dead
on the testimony of her senses. Nor did her eye rest
until her sight had been satisfied, because she had no
consolation from faith, no confidence in the promise
of God. But is it not so, that heaven and earth and
everything visible to this eye of flesh must pass away
and perish, ere one jot or one tittle of all that God
has spoken shall be suffered to fall to the ground ?
And yet she, who found no consolation in the word
of the Lord, ceased from her weeping at the vision of
her eye, placing greater reliance on experience than on
faith. Nevertheless, experience is often deceptive.

She is, therefore, invited to give the preference to
the more certain knowledge of faith, which attains to
things beyond the reach of the senses, beyond the
range of experience. " Do not touch Me," said the
risen Saviour. That is to say, " Cease to confide in thy
fallacious senses. Rely upon my word. Accustom
thyself to being led by the influence of faith. Faith
is infallible, it apprehends the invisible, it is a stranger
to the poverty of sense. Nay, it even transcends the
limits of human reason, the capacity of nature, the
bounds of experience. Why ask the eye about objects
beyond its possibilities of vision ? And why should
the hand endeavour to touch that which is altogether
above its reach. The knowledge given by either of
these faculties is of comparatively little worth. But
faith will certainly speak to thee of Me, without de-
tracting aught from My Majesty. Learn to receive
with more certainty and to follow with fuller confidence
what it shall teach thee. ' Do not touch Me, for I
am not yet ascended to My Father.' " As if to say that

330 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

when He is ascended, she shall have the permission or
the power to touch Him. And indeed that power she
shall have, but with her affection, not with her hand ;
with her will, not with her eye ; with faith, not with
the senses. " Why," He asks, " dost thou seek to
touch Me now, whilst with the bodily sense thou dost
estimate the glory of My Resurrection ? Knowest
thou not that even in the days of My passible life, the
eyes of My disciples were unable to bear the glory of
My mortal Body, momentarily transfigured. I still
condescend, indeed, to the weakness of thy senses, by
presenting to thee the form of a servant which thou
canst recognise from thy past experience. But My
glory ' is become wonderful to ' thee ; ' it is high '
and thou canst ' not reach to it.' Defer, therefore,
thy judgment ; postpone thy verdict ; do not entrust
thy senses with so important a decision, but reserve
it to faith, which, as comprehending more fully, will
pronounce sentence more worthily and with more truth
and confidence. For faith, in that deep and mystical
breast of hers, comprehends ' what is the breadth and
length, and height, and depth ' of this glory. What
'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered
the heart of man,' that faith bears within herself,
wrapped round with mystery and preserved under seal.
" She, therefore, may worthily touch Me, who shall
behold Me enthroned with the Father, no longer in an
humble, but in a heavenly form, in the same Flesh
indeed as to substance, but different as to degree of
glory. Why wouldst thou touch what as yet is un-
comely ? Wait that thou mayst touch Me when I am
revealed in My perfect beauty. For I, Who am now
unprepossessing by comparison, shall be truly beautiful

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 331

then. Now I appear imperfect to the faculties of
touch and of sight. I appear imperfect to thee, who
art thyself imperfect, in that thou dost follow sense
in preference to faith. Make thyself beautiful , and then
mayst thou touch Me. Thou shalt make thyself
beautiful by rendering thyself faithful. Thus beautiful
thyself, thou shalt more worthily and more blissfully
touch Me in My beauty. Thou shalt touch Me with
the hand of faith, with the finger of desire, with the
embrace of devotion, with the eye of the intellect.
But shall I still be black ? God forbid ! Thy Beloved
shall be beautiful beyond question and beyond compare,
for He shall be ' white and ruddy ' as being surrounded
with roses and lilies of the valley, that is, by the choirs
of martyrs and virgins. Nor shall I in the midst of
both companies appear alien to either, since I am
Myself both a Martyr and a Virgin. For how could I
be alien to the white choirs of virgins, being not only
a Virgin, but the Son of a virgin, and the Bride-
groom of a virgin ? Or to the roseate army of martyrs,
I, Who am the Motive, the Virtue, the Reward, and the
Model of martyrs ? When thou art such thyself, then
mayst thou touch Me Who am such, and touch Me
in such a way.* Then canst thou say, ' My Beloved
is white and ruddy, chosen out of thousands.'
' Thousands of thousands ' are with thy Beloved, ' and
ten thousand times a hundred thousand ' surround Him,
yet nigh Him is there none. Perhaps thou hast need
to fear, lest, in seeking Him Whom thou lovest, thou
shouldst mistake for Him one of the multitude of His

* " Talem talis taliterque tange." This sentence will give
some idea of the Saint's power of condensation, as also of his
fondness for alliteration. — (Translator.)

332 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

attendants ? But no, thou shalt have no hesitation
in singling Him out. He shall easily draw thy atten-
tion, being ' chosen out of thousands/ and of peerless
glory ; and thou shalt say, ' This is My Beloved, this
Beautiful One, in His robe, walking in the greatness
of His strength.' No longer, therefore, shall He walk
in the black skin, which up to this had to be pre-
sented to the eyes of His enemies, that they might
despise Him Whom they were to slay, and now even
to the eyes of His friends, that they might recognise
Him after His Resurrection. No longer, I say, shall
He appear under a black curtain, but in white robes,
beautiful not only above the sons of men, but above
even the angelic spirits. Why, then, dost thou wish
to touch Me, whilst still in this humble habit, this servile
form, this contemptible appearance ? Touch Me when
I manifest Myself all radiant with heavenly beauty,
' crowned with honour and glory/ terrible in the Majesty
of My Godhead, yet sweet and mild in My native
serenity."

Here, my brethren, we must admire the prudence of
the Spouse and the profound wisdom of her words.
Under the shade of Solomon's curtains, that is, in the
flesh, she seeks the Glory of the Divinity, she seeks
Life in death, the summit of honour and majesty in
disgrace, and under the black mantle of the Crucified,
the whiteness of innocence and the splendour of virtue.
For it was thus that those royal curtains, black though
they were, and contemptible, preserved under their
awning the bright and precious ornaments of an ex-
ceedingly wealthy monarch. Wisely does she refrain
from despising the blackness of the curtains, perceiving
the beauty concealed underneath. But that blackness

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 333

was despised by some who knew nothing of the treasure
it covered. " For if they had known it," says St.
Paul, " they would never have crucified the Lord of
Glory." King Herod knew it not, and hence his con-
tempt for Christ. Neither did the Synagogue know it,
since she reproached the Saviour with His suffering and
His weakness, saying, " He saved others, Himself He
cannot save ; if He be the King of Israel, let Him
come down from the cross, and we will believe in Him."
But the Thief, from the cross whereon he was hanging,
recognised that hidden beauty of Him Who was also
suspended on His cross, and he acknowledged and pro-
claimed the purity of His innocence. " This Man," said
he, " hath done no evil." He also, at the same time, con-
fessed the Glory of His royal Majesty by the prayer, " Re-
member me when Thou shalt come into Thy kingdom."
This beauty under blackness was likewise detected by
the Centurion, who declared the Crucified to be the
Son of God, as it is now by the Church, which emulates
the blackness in order to participate in the beauty.
She is not ashamed either to appear or to be called
black, so that she may be able to say to her Beloved,
" The reproaches of them that reproached Thee are
fallen upon me." Yet surely she is but " black as the
curtains of Solomon," that is to say, only in her ex-
terior, and not also within. For there is nothing black
in the interior of this Solomon of mine. Observe that
she does not say, " I am black as Solomon," but only
" as the curtains," that is, as the skin " of Solomon,"
because the blackness of the true Peaceful One is all on
the surface. The blackness of guilt shows itself within.
Sin discolours the interior before it appears exteriorly
to the eye. So it is written, " From the heart come

334 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

forth evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications,
thefts, false testimonies, blasphemies, these are the
things that defile a man." God forbid that blackness
of this kind should be found in Solomon ! No, such
defilement you shall never discover in Him Who is truly
called the Peaceful. For He, " Who taketh away the
sins of the world," ought Himself to be without sin,
in order that He may be found worthy to win peace
for sinners, and so may be justly entitled to the name
of Solomon.

But there is, besides, the blackness of afflicted peni-
tence, which appears when we conceive a heart-felt
sorrow for our sins. I do not think that Solomon will
contemn me for this kind of blackness, if voluntarily
assumed on account of my transgressions, because " a
contrite and humbled heart, O God, Thou wilt not de-
spise." There is also the blackness of tender compassion,
which we exhibit whenever we sympathise with our suf-
fering brethren, as if we were discoloured by our neigh-
bour's misfortune. Neither do I think that this blackness
will be displeasing to our Peaceful One, since He Himself
condescended to assume it for our sakes, " Who bore
our sins in His Body upon the tree." Another kind of
blackness is that of persecution. This should be valued
as a most beautiful ornament, when borne for the sake
of justice and truth. Hence we read that the apostles
" went from the presence of the council, rejoicing that
they were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the
name of Jesus." And the Lord says: " Blessed are
they that suffer persecution for justice sake." It is
in this blackness, most of all, as I think, that the
Church glories. It is this she endeavours to copy more
eagerly than any other of the black curtains of Solomon.

THE CURTAINS OF SOLOMON 335

She has even been promised a participation in it, in
the words of Christ, " If they have persecuted Me, they
will also persecute you."

Therefore the Spouse goes on to say, " Do not con-
sider that I am brown, because the sun hath altered
my colour." That is to say, " Do not find fault with
me as uncomely because Thou dost not find me fair
and blooming under the stress of affliction, nor beauti-
fully tinted, according to human standards of beauty.
Why wouldst Thou reproach me with a blackness due
to the violence of persecution rather than to the defile-
ment of transgression ? Or perhaps by the sun she means
the zeal for justice by which she is inflamed and aroused
against the malignant, saying with the Psalmist, " The
zeal of Thy house hath eaten me up " ; and " My zeal
hath made me pine away, because my enemies forgot
Thy words " ; also, " A fainting hath taken hold of
me, because of the wicked that forsake Thy law " ;
likewise, " Have I not hated them, O Lord, that hated
Thee, and pined away because of Thy enemies ? " She
also carefully follows the advice of the Wise Man,
" Hast thou daughters ? Shew not thy countenance gay
towards them." For herein she is counselled to exhibit
not the brightness of serenity, but the darkness of
severity to such as are lax and effeminate and haters
of discipline. Or again, to be discoloured by the sun
may mean to burn with the flame of fraternal charity,
like St. Paul, to " weep with them that weep," to be
weak with the weak, to be on fire when any is scan-
dalised. Still another interpretation : we may under-
stand the Spouse as saying, "Christ, the Sun of
Justice, has discoloured me, because I languish with
the love of Him." Such languor destroys in a manner

336 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the natural hue, and causes a swooning of the spirit,
so to speak, through the intense ardour of the soul's
desires. Hence the Prophet testifies, " I remembered
God and was delighted, and was exercised, and my
spirit swooned away." Therefore, the ardour of desire,
like a burning sun, darkens the complexion of the pil-
grim longing for the Vision of Glory, whilst impatience
is begotten of disappointment and eagerness of love is
tormented by de^y. Which of us, my brethren, is so on
fire with holy love, that in his yearning to behold Christ,
he loathes and leaves aside all the brightness and joy
of earthly glory and gratification, protesting to Him
in the words of the Prophet Jeremias, " And I have
not desired the day of man, Thou knowest," and saying
with holy David, " My soul refused to be comforted,"
that is, she disdained to be brightened with the empty
joys of worldly honours. Or, finally, she may have
meant this : " The Sun hath darkened my colour by
the contrast with His own Divine Splendour. For as I
draw nigh to Him I am made more sensible of my
own duskiness. I obtain a clearer knowledge of my
own blackness, and I despise my ugliness. Yet in
other respects I am truly beautiful. Why do you call
me black, since I yield only to the Sun in loveliness ? "
But what follows seems to me to accord better with
the interpretation of the blackness as the effect of vio-
lence. For the Spouse clearly indicates that she suffered
persecution, by adding " The sons of my mother have
fought against me." But I shall take this as my text
in the morrow's discourse. To-day you must be satis-
fied with what you have already heard concerning
the glory and by the grace of the Bridegroom of the
Church, Our Lord Jesus Christ, Who is God, blessed
for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXIX
On Domestic Discord and Fraternal Correction.

" The sons oj my mother have j ought against me."

" The sons of my mother have fought against me."
Annas, and Caiaphas, and Judas Iscariot were sons of
the Synagogue ; and these fought most fiercely against
the daughter of the Synagogue, that is to say, against the
Church, in her very infancy, hanging Jesus, her Founder,
on the tree of the cross. For God then fulfilled by their
means what He had long before predicted through His
Prophet, saying, " I will strike the shepherd, and the
sheep of the flock shall be dispersed." And perhaps
that is the voice of the infant Church which we hear
in the canticle of Ezechias, " My life is cut off as by a
weaver ; whilst I was yet but beginning He cut me off."
It is, therefore, of those mentioned just now, and of
others of the same nation, who are known to have
been enemies of the Christian name, that the Spouse
here complains, saying, "The sons of my mother
have fought against me." ' And rightly does she call
them the sons of her mother, not the sons of her Father,
since they had not God for their father, as the Saviour
testifies, but were from their father the devil. For
they were murderers, just as he was a murderer from
the beginning. Hence, she does not say " my brothers "
or " the sons of my Father," but " The sons of my
mother have fought against me." Otherwise, without
this distinction, the Apostle St. Paul might seem to be
i. 337 v

338 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

included amongst those of whom she makes this com-
plaint, since he also once persecuted the Church. Yet
he obtained mercy, because he " did it in ignorance,"
whilst living in infidelity. And he proved afterwards
that he had God for his Father, and thus that he was
a brother to the Church, as having the same Father in
heaven and the same mother on earth.

But observe, my brethren, how she accuses by name
the sons of her mother, and them alone, as if only they
are in fault. Yet how much has she not also suffered
irom aliens ! As she says herself by the Prophet David,
" Often have they fought against me from my youth " ;
also, " The wicked have wrought upon my back."
Wherefore, then, dost thou complain of none but the
sons of thy mother, knowing, as thou dost, that men
of different nations have often persecuted thee ? It is
written, " When thou art invited to the table of a
rich man, consider diligently the things that are laid
before thee." We, my brethren, are seated at the
table of Solomon. Who is more wealthy than Solomon ?
I speak not of earthly riches, although Solomon has an
abundance even of these. But I wish you to consider
the mystical table now before us, how richly furnished
it is with celestial delicacies. Spiritual and divine is the
food placed upon it for our use. Hence we read,
" consider diligently the things that are laid before
thee, knowing that it behoveth thee also to prepare
the like." And so, with all the diligence of which I
am capable, I consider what is laid before me and what
is meant for my own instruction and admiration in
those words of the Spouse. And that which especially
arrests my attention is the fact that she mentions
expressly and solely the persecutions suffered from those

ON DOMESTIC DISCORD 339

of the household, passing over in silence the others,
so numerous and cruel, which, as we know, she has en-
dured from men of every nation under heaven, from
infidels, heretics, and schismatics. I am too well ac-
quainted with the prudence of the Spouse to imagine
that such an omission is due to chance or forgetfulness.
But, evidently, she laments more particularly what
affects her more sensibly, and what she desires to put
us more on our guard against. What is that, my
brethren ? It is the plague of internal and domestic
dissension. You have this clearly expressed in the
Gospel, by the mouth of the Saviour Himself, where
He says, "And a man's enemies shall be they of his
own household." You may read the same in the
Psalmist, "The man of my peace, in whom I trusted,
who eat my bread, hath greatly supplanted me." Also,
' For if my enemy had reviled me, I would verily have
borne with it ; and if he that hated me had spoken
great things against me, I would perhaps have hidden
myself from him. But thou, a man of one mind, my
guide and my familiar, who didst take sweet meats
together with me." That is to say, " The wrong done
me by thee, my friend and companion, causes me more
pain and distress than all that I suffer from others."*

* When he spoke these words, the Saint and his hearers
m.ust have had in mind the foul treachery of which he was
himself the victim. He had been most basely betrayed by his
own trusted secretary, Brother Nicholas. This wolf in sheep's
clothing, possessing a counterfeit of the holy Abbot's seal, was
in the habit of sending out letters in St. Bernard's name' cal-
culated to injure his reputation. Thus he used to write even
to the Popes, calumniating prelates and religious com-
munities, or recommending unworthy persons for ecclesiastical
offices. Being at last discovered, he 'fled from Clairvaux. But
is soon as the Saint was dead, the miserable apostate returned

340 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

You know who it is that makes this complaint, and of
whom.

Acknowledge, then, that the Spouse is complaining
of the sons of her mother, with the same sorrow, because
in the same Spirit, as David of Achitophel, when she
says, " The sons of my mother have fought against me."
Hence, she elsewhere makes a similar complaint : " My
friends and my neighbours have drawn near and stood
against me." Remove far from you, my brethren, this
abominable and detestable evil of domestic discord,
you who have experienced and do daily experience
" how good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell
together in unity," if yet the union of bodies is accom-
panied by concord of will, and not by the scandal of
dissension. Otherwise, the dwelling together shall
neither be " pleasant " nor " good," but most bitter
and evil. But woe to the man by whom the pleasant
bond of unity is broken ! Assuredly he shall bear the
judgment, be he who he may. Rather let me die than
hear any of you truthfully exclaiming, " The sons of
my mother have fought against me " ! Are you not
all sons of this congregation, as if of the same mother,
and brothers of each other ? What, therefore, can
disturb you from outside or sadden you, if all be well
within, and you enjoy fraternal concord ? For " who is
it that can hurt you if you be zealous of good ? " Where-
fore, " be zealous for the better gifts," that you may
prove yourselves zealous of the good.

But charity is of all gifts the most excellent. Surel}
that gift must be quite incomparable which the Heavenl}
Bridegroom was so often at pains to recommend to His

to the attack, and by his slanderous stories, endeavoured t<
asperse a memory eve^where held in highest honour.—
(Translator.)

ON DOMESTIC DISCORD 341

newly-wed Bride, at one time saying, " By this shall all
men know that you are My disciples, if you have love one
for another " ; at another " This is My commandment,
that you love one another," and, " A new command-
ment I give to you, that you love one another." He
also prayed that they might be one, as He and the
Father are one. And see if St. Paul, who invites you
to " be zealous for the better gifts," does not give
charity the first place amongst all, both when he de-
clares it superior to faith and hope and surpassing
knowledge, and when, after enumerating the manifold
and wonderful gifts of supernal grace, he directs us
to a still more excellent way, which he affirms to be
none other than charity. But what can be conceived
comparable to that which is to be preferred to mar-
tyrdom itself, and to a faith strong enough to move
mountains ? Therefore, I say to you : have peace
amongst yourselves, and then whatever may seem to
threaten from outside, it shall have no power to frighten
you, because it shall have no power to hurt you. On
the other hand, no matter how the world may appear
to smile upon us, we shall certainly find in that no
consolation, if, at the same time, the seed of discord
(from which may God preserve us !) is sprouting in
our midst. Therefore, my dearly beloved, be at peace
with each other. Let no one injure his brother by
word or deed, or by any sign. Let no one, exas-
perated perhaps and surpiised by "pusillanimity of
spirit and the storm," be compelled to appeal to God
against those who have offended and saddened him,
and to give utterance to that serious accusation, " The
sons of my mother have fought against me."

For by thus sinning against your brother, you sin

342 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

against Christ, Who has declared that, "As long as
you did it to one of these, My least brethren, you
did it to Me." And we do not fulfil our duty in
this matter by being on our guard against the more
serious violations of fraternal charity such as open
contumely or bitter reproaches, such also as secret and
slanderous whispering. It is not, I say, sufficient to
preserve ourselves from the graver faults, viz., those I
have just mentioned, and others of a similar nature.
We must avoid light transgressions as well. If, indeed,
anything can be called light which you presume to do
with the will of hurting your brother, since you shall
be held guilty of the divine judgment merely for being
angry with him. And justly so. For that which we
consider light, and therefore lightly commit, will gene-
rally appear different to the offended party, because
" man looketh on the face and judgeth according to
the face," ready to regard a straw as a beam, and to
magnify a spark to a furnace. Not all possess that
charity which " believeth all things." ' The imagina-
tion and thought of man's heart are prone "to suspect
evil rather than to believe good. This is especially the
case, where the rule of silence neither allows him who
is the cause to offer an explanation, nor the other to
lay bare the soie of suspicion from which he suffers,
in order that it may be healed. So that the latter is
inflamed and his soul succumbs to a secret and deadly
wound amidst deep groans of internal anguish. For,
completely given up to the disquiet and agitation of
anger, he can do nothing else but revolve silently in
his mind the injury he fancies has been done him.
Prayer is no longer possible to one in this condition.
He can neither apply his mind to reading, nor meditate

ON DOMESTIC DISCORD 343

on anything holy and spiritual. And whilst the vital re-
spiration is thus suspended, so to speak, and the soul,
deprived of her proper nourishment , is rapidly approach-
ing death, that soul for which Christ died, what, I ask
thee, who art the offender, what is the state, what are
the feelings of thine own soul ? What relish canst
thou find in prayer or in labour, or in any other ex-
ercise, whilst Christ is sadly complaining of thee from
the breast of the brother whom thou hast aggrieved,
saying, " The son of My mother hath fought against
Me," and " he ' who took sweet meats together with
Me ' hath rilled Me with bitterness " ?

But if thou shouldst say that he ought not to be so
perturbed on account of so slight an offence, I answer
that the slighter it was the more easily might it
have been avoided by thee. And yet, as I have already
remarked, I know not how thou canst call slight any-
thing that goes beyond the mere feeling of anger,
since even this is matter for judgment, as the Judge
Himself declares. What ! Surely thou wilt not regard
as trivial that which offends Christ and for which thou
shalt be brought before the divine tribunal. "It is
a fearful thing," says St. Paul, "to fall into the hands
of the living God." Therefore, whenever anyone hap-
pens to hurt thy feelings, and it is almost impossible
that this should not occasionally occur in such com-
munities as ours whose members are thrown so much
together, do not immediately hasten, after the manner
of worldlings, to retaliate upon the offending brothei
by an abusive answer. Neither oughtest thou to be,
under any pretence of administering correction, so
viciously daring, as to transfix with a sharp and blister-
ing word the soul for which Christ refused not to be

344 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

fixed on the cross. Nor shouldst thou vent thy anger
by inarticulate expressions of resentment, by sup-
pressed mutterings and murmurings, by turning up
the nose in disdain, by the laughter of contempt and
mockery, or by the frown of reproach or menace. No,
but rather let the agitation expire in thine own heart,
where it was brought to birth. Let not that passion
which carries death be permitted to go abroad lest it
should work havoc to some brother's soul. So shalt
thou be able to say with the Prophet, " I was troubled
and I spoke not."

I am aware, my brethren, that some find a more
profound signification in these words, as if they were
spoken of " the devil and his angels." For these also
were sons of " that Jerusalem which is above, which
is our mother." But they fell, and since their fall
have not ceased to fight against their sister, the Church.
Nor shall I contradict him who may prefer a more
benign interpretation, according to which the meaning
would be that the spiritual sons of the Church fight
against their carnal brothers with the sword of the
Spirit, which is the word of God, inflicting on them
wounds, not unto death but unto their salvation, and
by such onslaughts compelling them to attend to their
spiritual interests. Would that the "just man"
might " correct me in mercy and reprove me,"" " striking
and healing, killing and making alive," so that, with
St. Paul, I, too, might dare to say, " I live, now not I,
but Christ liveth in me " ! "Be at agreement with thy
adversary betimes," said the Lord, "whilst thou art
on the way with him, lest perhaps the adversary deliver
thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the
officer." A good adversary he, with whom, if I am

ON DOMESTIC DISCORD 345

in agreement, neither the judge nor the officer shall
have a word to say against me. Certainly, my brethren,
if I have ever saddened any of you for the sake of your
amendment, I do not regret it, because that sadness is
unto salvation. And I cannot recall that I have ever
done so without feeling great sadness myself, as it is
written, " A woman, when she is in labour, hath sor-
row." But God forbid that I should any longer think
of my anguish, now that I possess the fruit of my
pains and see Christ formed in my children ! I know
not how it is, but it is true nevertheless, that I feel a
more tender affection for those whom I have at length
restored to spiritual health after and by means of many
reprehensions, than for others who have always been
strong and able to dispense with such bitter medicine.
Therefore, my brethren, the Church, or the soul that
loves God, can say in this sense that the Sun has dis-
coloured her, namely, by sending some of the sons of
her mother to fight against her in this salutary way,
and to lead her captive to His faith and love, pierced,
no doubt, with many of those arrows whereof we read,
' Sharp are the arrows of the Mighty,'' and, " Thy
arrows are fastened in me." Hence she goes on to
say, " There is no health in my flesh " ; so that, being
made healthier in spirit, and consequently stronger,
through the infirmity of the flesh, she is able to affirm,
' The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,"
or with the • Apostle, " When I am weak, then am I
powerful." Do you observe how the weakness of the
flesh increases the strength of the spirit and supplies it
with new energies ? Then be assured of the converse
also, that the strength of the flesh produces weakness of
the spirit. And what wonder if you increase in power in

346 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

proportion as your enemy increases in weakness ? That
is, unless you are mad enough to regard as your friend
that flesh which ceases not to lust against the spirit.
See, therefore, if the holy Psalmist did not act prudently
in praying to be savingly pierced with these arrows and
to be " fought against," where he says, " Pierce my flesh
with Thy fear." An excellent arrow is fear, which
transfixes and slays the desires of the flesh, "that the
spirit may be saved." And does it not seem to you
that he who chastises his own body, and brings it into
subjection, is himself assisting the hand that fights
against him ?

Another spiritual arrow is the word of God, "living
and efficacious, and more piercing than any two-edged
sword." Of this the Saviour said, " I came not to send
peace but the sword." A most penetrating arrow also is
the love of Christ , which not only pierced, but even trans-
pierced Mary's soul, in such a way as to leave no single
fibre of that virginal breast unclaimed by charity, causing
her to love with her whole heart , with her whole soul, and
with all her strength, so that she might be full of grace.
Or it may be said to have transpierced her in the sense
that it passed through her and so came to us, in order
that of her fulness we might all receive, and that she
might become the mother of charity (of which the
Father is God, Who is substantial Charity) bringing
forth and setting its Tabernacle in the sun. Thus was
fulfilled the words of Isaias, " I have given Thee to be
the Light of the Gentiles, that Thou mayst be My Sal-
vation, even to the farthest part of the earth." And it
was fulfilled through Mary, who brought forth in
visible flesh Him Whom she received invisibly, neither
from flesh nor with flesh. She, in truth, suffered in her

ON DOMESTIC DISCORD 347

whole being a great and most delicious wound of love.
Happy should I esteem myself, did I but occasionally
feel my soul pricked at least with the point of that
sword, so that, having received a little wound of charity,
I might exclaim, " I am wounded with love." Who
will grant me not only to be wounded in this manner,
but even to be " fought against," until I have utterly
lost both the colour and the concupiscence of that
flesh which " lusteth against the spirit " !

If the daughters of this world revile such a soul,
taunting it with its pallor and poverty of colour, does
it not seem to you, my brethren, that they may be
suitably answered in the words, " Do not consider that
I am brown, because the sun hath altered my colour " ?
And if that soul remembers that she has been brought
to this happy condition by means of the exhortations
and reprehensions of certain servants of Christ, who
were " jealous of her with the jealousy of God," will she
not be able to add with all sincerity that "-The sons
of my mother have fought against me " ? The sense,
therefore, will be, according to what has been said,
that the Church, or indeed any soul studious of virtue,
utters these words, not in lamentation or complaint,
but with joy and thanksgiving, nay, glorying in that,
for the name and the love of Christ, she has been ac-
counted worthy to be and to be called discoloured.
And this she ascribes, not to any merit of her own, but
to the grace and mercy of Him Who prevented her with
His inspirations and sent His preachers to instruct and
encourage her. For how could she believe " without a
preacher " ? And " how could they preach unless they
were sent ? " Without indignation, but not without
gratitude, she declares that the sons of her mother have

348 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

fought against her. Hence she adds, " They have made
me keeper in the vineyards." If these words be " spiri-
tually examined," I believe it will appear that they ex-
press no discontent or ill-feeling, but savour of something
more excellent. But before presuming to address our-
selves to this investigation, since "the place is holy,"
we must, with the customary prayers, conciliate and so
consult that Holy Spirit Who "searcheth the deep
things of God " ; or certainly the " Only- Begotten, Who
is in the bosom of the Father," the Bridegroom of the
Church, Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is over all, God
blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXX

On the Mystical Vineyards, and concerning the
Prudence of the Flesh.

" They have made me keeper in the vineyards ; my vineyard I have

not kept."

" They have made me keeper in the vineyards."
Who ? Is it they of whom thou hast just been saying
that they fought against thee ? Attend, my brethren,
and see if she does not now confess that the authors
of her suffering have been also the cause of her ad-
vancement. Nor should this surprise us, whenever it
happens that the motive of their fighting against her
is the desire of her amendment. For who doer not
know that many are often fought against from motives
of love and to their own advantage ? How many do
we daily see going forward to better things, elevated
to higher things, on account of the charitable onslaughts
of their superiors ! This being evident enough, let me
now show, if I can, how even when the sons of her
mother have fought against the Church, and that, not
with a view to her advantage, but from a spirit of
enmity, yet their opposition, far from being hurtful,
on the contrary has been profitable to her. For we
experience a peculiar pleasure, whenever they, who
intend our hurt, subserve our interests against their
will. The interpretation just given embraces both these
senses, because there have not been wanting to the
Church either ill-disposed or well-disposed opponents,

349

350 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

fighting against her from opposite motives. But she
has derived benefit from all. She boasts of having
profited so much from the sufferings caused her by her
antagonists, that instead of the one vineyard which they
seemed to have taken from her, she now has the joy
of being set over many. " Those who fought against
me and my vineyard," she seems to say, " and who
cried ' Raze it, raze it, even to the foundation thereof/
have done me the service of enabling me to exchange
one vineyard for many." This is the meaning of the
words added, " My vineyard I have not kept." As if
she wanted to explain how it happened that she is now
appointed keeper, not of one, but of many vineyards.
Such, I take it, is the literal sense of the text.

But if we take these words of the Spouse in their
obvious signification, content with the meaning which
appears to lie upon the surface, we shall imagine our-
selves reading in the Holy Scriptures of those material
and earthly vineyards, which, as we see, daily receive
of the dew of heaven and of the fatness of the earth
wherewith to produce the wine that ministers to luxury.
And thus we shall seem to have extracted from the
inspired utterance, so holy and so divine, nothing, I
do not say worthy of the immaculate Bride of Christ,
but even befitting any ordinary bride of any ordinary
bridegroom. For what is there in common between
spouses and the keepers of vineyards ? And even
granting that there are some points of agreement, how
shall we show that the Church has ever been appointed
to the guardianship of vineyards ? " Doth God take
care for " vineyards ? But if we adopt a spiritual
interpretation, and understand the vineyards to mean
the different churches, that is, the different faithful

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 351

peoples, according to the words of Isaias, " The vine-
yard of the Lord of Hosts is the house of Israel," then
perhaps we shall begin to see clearly how it is no dis-
honour to the Spouse to be appointed " keeper in the
vineyards."

This even appears to me to contain no unimportant
prerogative. And you, my brethren, will be of the
same opinion if you take the trouble to consider care-
fully how the Church extended her territory into such
spacious vineyards throughout the whole world, from
that day on which the sons of her mother fought against
her at Jerusalem, and thrust her out, together with her
new plantation. I speak of the " multitude of believers,"
who, as we read, " had but one heart and one soul."
And that primitive plantation is the vineyard which the
Spouse acknowledges she has not kept ; but " it shall
not be reputed as folly unto her." For it was not so
rooted out of Jerusalem as not to be planted elsewhere,
and "let to other husbandmen that should render
the fruit in due season." Manifestly, then, it perished
not, but peregrinated. It even increased and extended,
as having a blessing from the Lord. Then, lift up your
eyes, and see whether or not " the shadow of it covered
the hills, and the branches thereof the cedars of God " ;
whether or not " it stretched forth its branches unto
the sea, and its boughs unto the river." And no wonder.
For it is " God's husbandry, God's building." It is
He Who fertilises it, propagates it, prunes and purges
it, "that it may bring forth more fruit." When shall
that, which His Right Hand has planted, be deprived
of care and cultivation ? Certainly, the vineyard where
the Lord is the Vine, His apostles the branches, and
His Father the Husbandman, shall never be allowed to

352 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

suffer from neglect. Planted in faith, rooted in charity,
purged with the hoe of discipline, fertilised with the
tears of penitence, watered with the word of preaching,
it shall thus abound with the wine, not of luxury, but
of gladness, the wine which produces all manner of
spiritual pleasure, without any uprisings of carnal
passion. This assuredly is the wine which " rejoiceth
the heart of man," of which, no doubt, even the angels
drink with delight. For such is their thirst for the sal-
vation of men that the conversion and the penance of
sinners are to them a new source of joy. The wine
they love best are the tears of contrition, because in
these tears they discover the very odour of life, the
relish of grace, the flavour of forgiveness, the joy of
reconciliation, the health of reviving innocence, and the
sweetness and peace of a tranquillised conscience.

Therefore, from that one vineyard, which appeared to
have been destroyed by the tempest of savage perse-
cution, how many others have been propagated and
have flourished throughout the world ! And in all these
the Spouse has been made the keeper, so that she may
not grieve for not having kept her first. Be comforted,
O daughter of Sion ! If " blindness in part hath hap-
pened in Israel/' what dost thou lose thereby ? Admire
the mystery ; but do not be discouraged at the loss.
Widen thy bosom, and gather in the "fulness of the
gentiles." Say to the cities of Juda, " To you it be-
hoved us first to preach the word of God ; but because
you reject it and judge yourselves unworthy of eternal
life, behold we turn to the gentiles." God indeed pro-
posed to Moses that if he would consent to dismiss the
prevaricating people and to leave them exposed to the
divine vengeance, he would himself become the father

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 353

of a great nation. But the holy Lawgiver refused.
Why ? On account of the exceeding love which held
him strongly bound to that people, and because he
sought not the things that were his own, but the
honour of God, and the profit of many. So great was
the charity of this man of God.

It seems to me, however, that, by a secret dispen-
sation, this destiny, on account of its greatness, was
providentially reserved to the Spouse, so that she, and
not Moses, might grow into a mighty people. For it
would not be right for the friend of the Bridegroom to
snatch away the blessing that belonged to the Bride.
Therefore, not to Moses, but to the newly-wed Bride, was
it said, " Go ye into the whole world and preach the
Gospel to every creature." She, I say, was certainly
sent to grow into a great nation. Could she, indeed,
have been destined to expand into a greater than the
whole ? And as she came bearing peace and offering
grace, the whole world readily yielded to her sway.
But not as grace, so also the law. With how great
a difference of aspect the sweetness of the former
and the austerity of the latter present themselves
to the conscience of each ! Surely no one can
regard with the same sentiments that which
condemns and that which consoles, that which holds
to account and that which pardons, that which
punishes with severity and that which embraces
with love. We have not an equal welcome for
the shadow and for the light, for wrath and
for peace, for judgment and for mercy, for the
figure and for the substance, for the rod and for
the inheritance, for the curb and for the kiss.
Heavy are the hands of Moses, as Aaron and Hur

354 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

can bear witness."* Heavy, too, is the yoke of the law,
according to the testimony of the apostles, who
declared that neither themselves nor their fathers could
bear it. A heavy burden and a light reward, since
it is the earth that is promised ! Therefore Moses
was not destined to grow into a great people. But
thou, O mother Church, " having the promise of
the life which now is and of that which is to come,"
dost easily win acceptance from all, by reason of thy
twofold offer of a sweet yoke here and a supernal
kingdom hereafter. Driven forth from Jerusalem, thou
art received by the world, because thy promises are
more attractive than thy laws are repelling. Why dost
thou still lament the loss of a single vineyard, for which
thou hast been so superabundantly compensated ?
" Because thou wast forsaken, and hated, and there
was none that passed through thee," saith the Lord,
by His Prophet Isaias, M I will make thee to be an
everlasting glory, a joy unto generation and genera-
tion ; and thou shalt suck the milk of the gentiles,
and thou shalt be nursed with the milk of kings ; and
thou shalt know that I am the Lord, thy Saviour, and
thy Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob." It is in this
sense, therefore, the Spouse declares that she has been
made keeper in the vineyards, and that she has not
kept her vineyard.

Whenever I read these words, my brethren, I am
wont to reprove myself for undertaking the charge of
other souls, who am not able to take care of my own.
For I take vineyards as signifying souls. If this

* " And Moses's hands were heavy ; so they took a stone and
put it under him, and he sat on it, and Aaron and Hur stayed
up his hands on both sides " (Exodus xvii, 12). — (Translator.)

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 355

interpretation approves itself to you, consider whether
I may not also and consequentially regard faith as the
vine, the virtues as the branches, good works as the
grapes, and devotion as the wine. For as the branches
cannot be without the vine, so neither can the virtues
exist without faith. " Without faith," says St. Paul, " it
is impossible to please God," and perhaps impossible to
avoid displeasing Him; "for all that is not of faith
is sin," as St. Paul teaches.* Therefore, those who
" made me keeper in the vineyards " should have con-
sidered this, viz., how I had kept my own. But, alas I
how long a time it lay neglected, forsaken, and reduced
to a wilderness ! Certainly, no wine was produced in
it, the branches of virtue having withered on the barren
stock of faith. For faith was still there, but dead.
How could it be otherwise without works ? Such was
I when living in the world. After my conversion to
the Lord, I confess that I began to keep my vineyard
somewhat better, yet still not as I ought. For who is
sufficient for this ? Not even the holy Psalmist, since
he declares that " Unless the Lord keep the city, he
watcheth in vain that keepeth it." To what snares I
remember to have even then exposed myself, snares
set by him, whose practice it is " to shoot in secret the
undefiled " ! How much of the produce was carried
off from the vineyard of my soul by various cunning
artifices, at that very time when I began to apply
myself with greater vigilance to the keeping and the

* The holy Preacher does not mean that every action not
proceeding from a motive of faith is thereby sinful — the sense
in which Michael Baius understood the words of St. Paul, and
which was condemned by Pope St. Pius V. He simply says
that where faith is absent it is morally impossible to avoid
displeasing God by sin. — (Translator.)

356 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

caring of it ! How many clusters of the excellent grapes
of good works were either blighted by anger, lost by
boasting, or begrimed with the smoke of vainglory ! How
many temptations I endured from gluttony, from the
spirit of sloth, "from pusillanimity of spirit and the
storm " ! Such was I then. And, nevertheless, they
"made me keeper in the vineyards," not considering
what I was doing or had done with my own, nor attend-
ing to the master, St. Paul, who censured their conduct
with the words, " But if a man know not how to rule
his own house, how shall he take care of the Church of

God ? "

I am amazed, my brethren, at the audacity of some,
who, as we see, can gather nothing in their own vineyards
but " thorns and briers," and who yet have the daring
to intrude themselves into the vineyards of the Lord.
No keepers, no husbandmen they, but " thieves and
robbers." Let us say no more about them. But alas
for me even now, because of the danger to my vine-
yard ! Nay, the danger is now greater than ever
before, because, having to watch over many, I am
compelled to be less diligent and less solicitous with
regard to my own. I am not permitted to " make a
hedge round about it " nor to " dig in it a press."
Alas ! "the hedge thereof " is " broken down, so that
all who pass by the way do pluck it " ! It lies exposed
to sadness ; it is open to anger and to impatience. The
busy " little foxes " of " present necessities " lay it waste.
Anxieties, suspicions, and solicitudes rush in upon it
from every side. Rarely has it an hour's respite fromj
wrangling crowds and vexatious disputes. I have nc
power to prevent, no means of avoiding such invasions

I have not so much as time to pray. With what rail

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 357

of tears shall I be able to irrigate " the sterility of
my soul " ? I meant to say " the sterility of my vine-
yard," but the familiar words of the psalm slipped
from my tongue. However, the sense is the same.
Nor do I regret a mistake which reminds me that the
language I am using is figurative, and that there is
question here, not of a material vineyard, but of a
spiritual soul. Therefore understand " soul " when you
hear " vineyard." For the sterility of the former is
bewailed under the image and name of the latter.
Therefore, with what tears, I ask, shall I irrigate the
sterility of my vineyard ? All its branches are withered
" through poverty." They hang without fruit, because
of the lack of moisture. O good Jesus ! Thou knowest
what faggots of dry twigs I make of them and burn
in daily sacrifice to Thee with the fire of a contrite
heart. Let " an afflicted spirit " be a sacrifice to Thee,
I implore. " A contrite and humbled heart, O God,"
do " not despise."

Thus have I, my brethren, according to my imper-
fection, applied my present text to myself. But per-
fect will the man have to be who can say in a different
sense, " My vineyard I have not kept." I mean, in
that sense in which the Saviour says in the Gospel,
" He that shall lose his life for Me, shall find it." He
is truly qualified and worthy to be made " keeper in
the vineyards," who is not turned aside or prevented
by the care of his own vineyard from diligence and
solicitude with regard to those of his brethren which
may be committed to his charge ; because he seeks
not the things that are his own, nor what is profit-
able to himself, " but to many." For this reason,
doubtless, St. Peter was made keeper in the many

358 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

vineyards which were of the Circumcision, because he
was a man prepared "to go to prison and to death."
Thus he showed how little he was held captive by the
love of his own vineyard, viz., of his own interests, in
such a way as not to be able to look aftei those others
entrusted to his care. With good reason was St. Paul
also made keeper of such a forest of vineyards amongst
the gentiles. For neither was he found over-anxious
in the care of his own. So far from it, indeed, that he
was " ready not only to be bound, but to die also in
Jerusalem, for the name of the Lord Jesus." For, as
he said elsewhere, " I fear none of these things, neither
do I count my life more precious than myself." Ex-
cellent valuator, who judges nothing of all that belongs
to him to be preferable to himself !

Yet how many have rated of more worth than their
own salvation a little of that vile thing we call money !
St. Paul would not give such a preference even to his
life. " Neither," says he, " do I count my life more
precious than myself." Dost thou, therefore, O Paul,
make a distinction between thy life and thyself ? Justly
couldst thou declare thyself to be of more value than
anything that is thine. But how is thy life not rather
thyself than thine ? I take it, my brethren, that when
he said this, the Apostle was " walking in the spirit "
and mentally "consenting to the law of God, that it is
good." Therefore, he deemed it right to designate his
mind, as his principal and noblest part, by the name of
" self " rather than by any other title. The remaining
(sensitive) part of his soul, which is evidently of an
inferior nature and is wedded to the lower and baser
essence, that is, to the body, not only by the office
of imparting to it life and feeling, but also by the

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 359

instinct to foster and nourish it — this sensual and
carnal element, I say, St. Paul, as a spiritual man,
considered unworthy to be called " self." He judged
it better to reckon it amongst the things that belonged
to him, than to speak of it as if it adequately repre-
sented his personality. " When I speak oi myself," he
seems to say, "think of that which is most excellent in
me, and in which I stand by the grace of God, namely,
my mind and reason. But when I talk of my life, I mean
the inferior part of my soul which is employed in ani-
mating the body, and constitutes with it the principle
of concupiscence. That, I confess, I once made myself
to be, but now I do so no longer. For I do not now walk
according to the flesh but according to the spirit. ' I
live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.' It is not I
that live according to the law of my members, but it
is I that live according to the law of my mind. And
what if, even still, the inferior part of my soul lusts
after the things of the flesh ? ' It is no more I that do
it, but sin that dwelleth in me.' And hence, not me,
but mine, should I call that in me which still savours
of the flesh, and which is nothing else than my sensitive
life or soul." For in truth, her carnal affection is a part
of the soul, as is also the life which she communicates
to the body. This life of his sensitive soul, then, is the
life or soul which St. Paul despises in comparison with
himself, being "ready not only to be bound, but to
die also in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus,"
and so to lose his life, according to the counsel of Christ.
Do you also, my brethren, give up your own wills,
completely renounce all that gratifies the body, crucify
your " flesh with the vices and concupiscences " thereof,
and " mortify your members which are upon the earth."

360 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

So shall you prove yourselves imitators of the Apostle
because, like him, you will not have counted your lives
more precious than yourselves. So shall you prove
yourselves to be disciples of Christ, by losing your
lives in this salutary way, as He recommends. And
truly it is a more prudent course to lose it in order
to save than to save it in order to lose it. " For, who-
soever will save his life shall lose it." What have you
to say to this, you who are so fastidious with regard
to your meals, so careless about your morals ? Hippo-
crates and his disciples teach us to save our lives in
this world. Christ and His apostles command us to
lose them. Which of the two do you select for your
master ? But he makes it plain what leader he follows
who brings forward such objections as these to the food
provided for him by his superiors : " That is bad for the
eyes, that causes headache, this injures the breast, that
disorders the stomach." We may presume that each
person speaks according to what he has learned from his
master. Now, I ask, have you found such distinctions
of meats in the writings of the prophets or apostles ?
Assuredly, it was flesh and blood, and not the Spirit of
the Father, that revealed to you this wisdom. For it is
the wisdom of the flesh, and hear what our spiritual
physicians think ot it. "The wisdom of the flesh,"
they tell us, " is death." Also, " the wisdom of the flesh
is the enemy of God." Ought I to have proposed to you
the doctrine of Hippocrates, or of Galenus, or that of the
school of Epicurus, instead of the Gospel truth ? *

* Hippocrates (460-361 B.C.), a native of Cos, has been called
the Father of medical science. Instead of the superstitious
practices and jugglery in which the healing art consisted before
his time, he recommended two simple rules, viz., to study the

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 361

But I am a disciple of Christ, and I am addressing
Christians. Therefore, I should have sinned if I intro-
duced any teaching foreign to the Gospel. Epicurus
makes sensual enjoyment the supreme good. Hippo-
crates prefers a good condition of bodily health. But
my Master preaches the contempt of both the one and
the other of these things. Those philosophers seek with
all diligence, and exhort us to seek, for the means of
sustaining or of making pleasant the soul's life in the
body, the very thing which, according to the teaching
of the Saviour, we ought to be prepared to lose.

symptoms of each malady, and to "follow nature." He was the
first to recognise the importance of well-regulated diet as a
remedy.

Claudius Gallenus, born at Pergamos, a.d. 130, was also a
distinguished physician. His cures were so wonderful that they
were attributed to magic. He is said to have written no fewer
than 300 books on various subjects connected with his pro-
fession. His death occurred a.d. 200 at Rome, where he had
been held in the highest esteem by the Emperor Marcus
Aurelius.

Epicurus (341-270 b.c), a native of Samos, was a materialistic
philosopher, and the Founder of the system which bears his
name. Philosophy he defined to be the art of making life
happy — that is, the present life, for he had no faith in a future.
And since a happy life means a pleasant life, he recommends
us to aim at securing the maximum of pleasure with the
minimum of pain. For this it is necessary to restrain our
desires within the limits of possible gratification. By pleasure
Epicurus does not mean, as he is so often represented to
mean, bodily satisfaction alone, nor even chiefly. In his system
the highest place is given to intellectual enjoyment or mental
repose, to which everything else is to be subordinated. And
if he counsels indulgence of desires, it is with moderation
and lest unsatisfied appetites should disturb the mind's tran-
quillity. The system of gross sensualism, frequently confounded
with epicureanism, differs widely from the principles laid down
by the Sage of Samos, and is in reality the Hedonism of Aris-
tippus, who flourished in the latter half of the fifth century, B.C.
— (Translator.)

362 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

What else, my brethren, sounded in our ears from
the school of Christ when it was just now proclaimed
that " He who loveth his life shall lose it " ? He shall
lose it, the Lord says, either by laying it down, as a
martyr, or by afflicting it, as a penitent. Although it
is a kind of martyrdom to " mortify by the spirit the
deeds of the flesh, " a martyrdom less cruel indeed in
its terrors than that which dismembers the body with
violence, yet more painful by reason of its duration.
Do you not perceive that these words of my Divine
Master condemn the wisdom of the flesh, whereby we
are relaxed in the luxury of sensual pleasure, or we
devote excessive attention even to the preservation of
our bodily health ? That it is not true wisdom which
leads to luxury you surely must have learned from holy
Job, where he tells us that such wisdom " is not found
in the land of them that live in delights." But he who
discovers it cries out, " I loved her above health and
beauty." And if wisdom is to be preferred to health
and beauty, how much more to sensuality and tur-
pitude ? But what will it avail us to abstain from the
pleasures of the flesh, if we make it our daily engrossing
care to study the diversities of constitutions and the
distinctive properties of the various kinds of food ?
" Pulse," thou complainest, " produces flatulency, cheese
causes indigestion, milk gives me headache, my chest
will not suffer me to drink cold water, cabbage makes
me melancholy, I always feel choleric after onions, fish
from the lake or from muddy water does not agree with
my constitution." What ! In all rivers, fields, gardens,
cellars, thou canst find scarcely anything fit to be thy
food!

Remember, I pray thee, that thou dost belong, not to

ON THE MYSTICAL VINEYARDS 363

the medical, but to the monastic profession ; and that
thou shalt be judged by thy fidelity to thy religious
engagements, not in accordance with the state of thy
bodily health. Have mercy, I beg of thee, first, on thy
own peace of mind, then on those who have the laborious
office of ministering to thy taste. Be kind to the op-
pressed community. Be kind to conscience. I say
" to conscience," not meaning thine, but thy brother's,
the conscience of him, namely, who, sitting beside thee,
partakes of what is set before him, and feels inclined
to murmur at thy singular mode of fasting. For he
is scandalised either at thy detestable superstition, or
at the hardness which he may be tempted to impute
to him who has the duty of providing for thee. Thy
singularity, I repeat, is a cause of scandal to thy brother,
who will either judge thee to be fastidious, when he
sees thee abstaining from the common food, and seek-
ing for superfluities, or certainly he will accuse me of
cruelty, because I do not make the necessary pro-
vision for thy sustenance. Vainly do some seek to
flatter their delicacy with the example of St. Paul, who
tells his disciple not to drink water, but to use a little
wine for his "stomach's sake" and his "frequent
infirmities." For, in the first place, they ought to take
notice that the Apostle is not here recommending such
a drink for himself, and that the disciple has not asked
it for himself. In the second place, it should be ob-
served that the prescription is not for a monk but for
a bishop, and a bishop whose life was very necessary
to the Church, then so young and tender. This was
St. Timothy. Give me another St. Timothy, and I
will offer him gold to eat and balsam to drink. But it
is thou that dispensest thyself, and treat est thyself

364 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

with such tenderness. It makes me suspicious, I confess,
to see thee thus indulgent to thyself. And I feel appre-
hensive lest thou shouldst be deceived by the wisdom
of the flesh, masquerading under the name and colour
of discretion. At any rate, as thou art so pleased to
have the Apostle's authority for drinking wine, I would
remind thee, lest thou shouldst forget, that St. Paul
uses the adjective "little." But enough of this. Let
us now return to the Spouse. And let us learn from
her not to keep our own vineyards but to lose them
for the profit of others. This is especially necessary
for superiors, who manifestly have been made " keepers
in the vineyards " of the Bridegroom of the Church,
Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is over all things, God
blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXI
On the various Visions of God.

" O Thou, Whom my soul loveth, show me where Thou feedest,
where Thou liest in the mid-day,"

" Show me, O Thou, Whom my soul loveth, where
Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day." The
Divine Word, the Bridegroom of our souls, often re-
veals Himself, my brethren, to fervent spirits, but not
always under the same form. Why so ? No doubt
because they do not yet see Him " as He is." For
this vision is fixed and immutable, as fixed and im-
mutable as the Form of the Divinity Which is its
Object. It simply is, suffering no change from the future
to the present, nor from the present to the past. Take
away " was " and " shall be " and where now is there
any room for " change or shadow of alteration " ? But
whatever exists in such a way that it ceases not to pass
from that which it has been, and to tend to that which
it shall be, by an uninterrupted process of mutation, has
indeed a passage through an indivisible nunc of actual
being, but certainly never is.* For how can we say
that that is which " never continueth in the same
state " ? Therefore that alone truly is which can neither
be separated from itself as it has been by alteration,
nor effaced by itself as in the future it shall be, but
alone invincibly, unchangeably is, and remains ever
that which it is.f Its present has co-existed with the

* Cf. St. Augustine, Confess., lib. xi. cap. xiv. — (Translator.)
f " Solum proinde vere est quod nee a f uit praeciditur, nee ab
erit expungitur, sed solum atque inexpugnable remanet ei est, et
manet quod est." Passages like this, numerous with St. Bernard,
are the despair of the Tenderer. — (Translator.)

3^5

366 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

whole of the unbeginning past, and shall co-exist with
the whole of the unending future. In this way does it
vindicate for itself true being, that is to say, uncreated,
interminable, immutable being. When, therefore, He
Who is such, rather I should say, Who being infinite,
cannot be described as such or such at all — when He
is seen as He is, the vision must of necessity be abiding,
as subject to no vicissitude. And thus to all who
enjoy that sight, the one penny of the Gospel shall
have been paid in the one same vision, which is offered
to all. For as the Object seen is immutable in Itself,
It must appear without variation to all those who
behold It. And they who contemplate It can wish
to behold nothing more desirable or beautiful, nothing
more capable of ravishing their hearts. When, there-
fore, shall that eager appetite give place to satiety, or
that sweetness lose its savour, or that truth be found
deceptive, or that eternity fall short and fail ? But if
both the vision itself and the soul's delight in it shall
endure for evermore, surely that is the very consum-
mation of beatitude. For since, on the one hand, the
contemplation of the Divine Beauty is all-sufficing and
eternal, nothing can ever be wanting to those who
enjoy it ; and on the other, as their love also is ever-
lasting they can never grow weary of what they behold.
But, my brethren, this vision is not for the present
life. It is reserved for the next, and for them only
who can say, " We know that when He shall appear
we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He
is." Now, indeed, He appears to whom He pleases
and as He pleases, but not as He is. No sage, no saint,
no prophet can see Him as He is, or, at least, could see
Him so, whilst clothed in this mortal flesh. But they
who are accounted worthy shall enjoy that vision of

ON THE VISIONS OF GOD 367

Him in the immortal body of the future. In the mean-
time, therefore, He is seen, not as He is, but in the way
He wills. So it is, indeed, even with that great luminary,
I mean the material sun, which daily rises upon us.
For it is never seen as it is in itself, but only by the
light which it communicates to the air, for instance,
or to the mountain, or to the wall. And we could not
see it at all, if the light of our bodies, viz., the eye, did
not bear a certain resemblance in its natural purity
and clearness to the solar radiance. For no other
bodily member is sensitive to light, which is doubtless
due to their lack of any such affinity. But even the eye
itself, when "troubled," is unable to perceive the light,
because, namely, it has lost the similitude necessary
thereto. Therefore, the same faculty which when
"troubled," or clouded, cannot see the bright sun as
having no likeness to it, may yet behold it, when ren-
dered bright itself, on account of this resemblance. And
it is evident that, were the eye possessed of a purity
equal to the purity of the sun, it would be able, by
reason of such perfect resemblance, to contemplate with
undazzled gaze that luminous body as it is in its meri-
dian splendour. In the same way, the Divine Sun of
Justice, " Who enlighteneth every man that cometh
into this world," can be seen by the soul that is
enlightened, according to the degree in which He
enlightens her, because of the partial resemblance
between them. Nevertheless, He cannot yet be seen
as He is in Himself, for the reason that the similarity
is not yet perfect. Hence, the Psalmist exhorts us,
saying, " Come ye to Him and be enlightened and your
faces shall not be confounded." Thus shall it be, no
doubt, if only we are enlightened as much as is needful,
so that " beholding the glory of the Lord with open

368 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

face, we are transformed into the same image, from
glory to glory as by the Spirit of the Lord."

Consequently, we must "come to Him," not, mark
you, intrude ourselves boldly upon Him, lest the ir-
reverent " searcher of majesty " should be " over-
whelmed by glory." Not from place to place must we
advance towards Him, but by a progress " from glory
to glory," and this not the glory of the flesh, but of
the Spirit : " as by the Spirit of the Lord." Manifestly,
I say, it is not by our own spirit that this advance is
to be made, but by the Spirit of the Lord. Although
it must indeed be accomplished in our own spirit.
Therefore, each of us draws nearer to God in proportion
as he increases in this spiritual glory or purity. But
he who has attained to perfect purity has arrived at
the very presence of God. Furthermore, for those who
have already reached that divine presence, to see Him
as He is is the same thing as to be as He is, and no
longer to be confounded because of any dissimilitude.
But such happiness belongs, as I have said, to the
life to come. In the meantine, this marvellous variety
of forms, this infinitude of beautiful kinds in crea-
tion, what are they but so many rays, so to speak,
from the Sun of the Divinity, showing indeed that He
Who is their source, truly is, but not fully declaring
what He is ? Hence we only see what proceeds from
Him, not His own Divine Self. But beholding all the
works of His hands, although Himself we cannot see,
we still feel assured that He truly exists, and that we
have a duty to seek Him out. And grace shall not be
wanting to the honest inquirer, nor shall ignorance
excuse the slothful and negligent. This mode of vision
is common to all. Jf It is within the competence of every

ON THE VISIONS OF GOD 369

one who has attained the use of reason, as St. Paul
testifies, " to see clearly the invisible things of God,
being understood by the things that are made." \

Another way of vision is that whereby the fathers
were often graciously admitted to delightful familiarity
with God as present, although not even they were
privileged to see Him as He is in Himself, but only as
He condescended to appear. Neither did He show
Himself in the same form to all, but, as the Apostle
speaks, " at sundry times and in divers manners,"
although one in Himself. For " the Lord thy God
is one God," as He Himself said to Israel. This reve-
lation was not indeed common, yet it was made ex-
teriorly, that is to say, through sensible images or
spoken words. There is still another mode of contem-
plating the Divinity, differing from those mentioned,
in that it is more interior. In this manifestation, God
vouchsafes to visit in person the soul that seeks Him,
provided, however, that she devotes herself with all
desire and love to this holy quest. And a sign of His
coming to us in this manner shall be, as we learn from
one who has had the experience, that " A fire shall go
before Him and shall burn His enemies round about."
For it is necessary that the ardour of holy desire should
go before His Face unto every soul which He intends
to visit, in order to burn out the rust of vice and sin
and prepare a place for the Lord. And then shall the
soul know that " the Lord is nigh," when she feels
herself inflamed with that fire ; and she shall exclaim
with the Prophet Jeremias, " From above He hath
sent fire into my bones and hath chastened me," or
with the Psalmist, " My heart grew hot within me,

and in my meditation a fire shall flame out."
1: 2 a

370 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

When, as sometimes happens, the Object of her de-
sires, so ardently sought after, compassionately reveals
Himself to the soul that sighs often, prays unceasingly
and afflicts herself in the impatient eagerness of her
longing ; then, as I think, she will be able, from her
own experience, to cry with the Prophet, "Thou art
good, O Lord, to them that hope in Thee, to the soul
that seeketh Thee." And the angel guardian of that
soul, who is one of the friends of the Bridegroom and
by Him deputed to be the minister and witness of this
secret and mutual intercourse — Oh ! how he exults !
How he shares in the joy and the bliss of his protege !
Turning to the Bridegroom, he exclaims, " Thanks to
Thee, O Lord of Majesty, because ? Thou hast given
her her heart's desire, and hast not withh olden from
her the will of her lips.' " He it is, who, as the soli-
citous companion of the soul in every place, does not
cease to urge her forward and to admonish her with
constant suggestions, saying, " Delight in the Lord,
and He will give thee the petitions of thy heart " ; or,
" Expect the Lord and keep His way " ; or, " If He
make any delay, wait for Him, for He shall surely come
and He shall not be slack." But to the Lord he says,
" ' As the hart panteth after the fountains of water,
so ' does this soul ' pant after Thee, O God.' She
1 hath desired Thee in the night,' and Thy Spirit within
her in the morning early hath watched for Thee."
And again, "All the day long has she spread out her
hands to Thee. ' Send her away because she crieth after
Thee/ ' Return a little ' and ' be entreated ' in favour
of this soul. ' Look down from heaven, and see,
and visit, this desolate one.' " So does this faithful
paranymph, who is the confidant, without envy, of

ON THE VISIONS OF GOD 371

the mutual love of the Bridegroom and His Bride, seek
not his own but his Master's interests. He acts as an
intermediary between the Spouse and her Beloved, pre-
senting to Him her prayers, and bearing back to her
His favours. His exhortations reanimate the Bride,
and His intercessions appease the Bridegroom. Some-
times also, although rarely, he actually brings them
together into each other's presence, either snatching
her up to Him, or leading Him down to her dwelling.
For he is a domestic, a familiar in the palace, having no
fear of meeting with a repulse, and daily seeing the
" Face of the Father."

But take care, my brethren, that you do not under-
stand me as conceiving the union between the Word and
the faithful soul to be something corporal and percept-
ible to the sense. I am only speaking the language of
St. Paul, who has said that "He who is joined to the
Lord is one Spirit." The ecstatic elevation of the pure
soul to God and God's loving descent to the soul I am
trying to describe as well as I can with human words
" comparing spiritual things with spiritual." The union
whereof I speak, therefore, is a spiritual union, because
" God is a Spirit," and He desires the beauty of the
soul which He observes to be walking in the Spirit,
and not " making provision for the flesh in its
concupiscences." More especially if He beholds her in-
flamed with His love. Such a Spouse, then, so disposed
and so beloved, can by no means be content either with
that manifestation of her Bridegroom which is given
to the many by the things that are made, nor yet with
that which is vouchsafed the few in visions and dreams.
She will not be satisfied, unless, by a special privilege of
grace, He descends into her from the height of heaven

372 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

so that she may embrace Him with her tenderest and
strongest affections, and in the very centre of her
heart, and may have thus intimately united to her the
Divine Object of her heart's desire, not in bodily form,
but by a spiritual indwelling ; not as beheld in vision,
but as clasped and clasping in a close embrace ot mutual
love. Nor does it admit of any doubt that this mode
of the divine presence is only all the more delectable
for being so interior. For the Word of God is not a
sounding but a " piercing " Word, not pronounceable
by the tongue, but " efficacious in the mind," not sen-
sible to the ear, but fascinating to the affections. His
Face is not an object possessing beauty of form, but
rather is the Source of all beauty and all form. It is
not visible to the bodily eye, but rejoices the eye of the
heart. And It is pleasing, not because of the harmony
of Its colour, but by reason of the ardent love It excites.
Yet even here I would not venture to say that He
shows Himself as He is, although at the same time He
does not appear in this kind of vision altogether dif-
ferent from Himself as He is. For He does not con-
stantly manifest Himself thus, even to the most fervent
souls, nor yet in the same way to all. It is necessary that
grace and the savour of the divine presence should vary
in accordance with the varying desires of the soul,
and that the infused relish of heavenly sweetness should
please the spiritual palate in different ways and degrees.
You must have noticed in this love-song how often He
changes His Countenance, and with "how great a mul-
titude of sweetness " He condescends to transform Him-
self in the presence of His beloved one. Thus, at one
time, He appears as a bashful Bridegroom, soliciting
the secret embraces of the holy soul, and finding His

ON THE VISIONS OF GOD 373

pleasure in kisses ; at another, He reveals Himself in
the role of a Physician, with oils and unguents, and
that for the sake of such tender and weak souls as
still have need of lotions and lenitives, and hence are
designated by the name of " young maidens," a name
expressive of delicacy. Should anyone murmur at His
acting thus, he shall be told that " They that are in
health need not a Physician, but they that are ill."
Occasionally also, as a Wayfarer, He associates Himself
with the wayfaring Spouse and young maidens, who are
journeying forward together, and He relieves the labour
and weariness of the way with His delightful conver-
sation. Hence they say to each other, after their part-
ing from Him, " Was not our heart burning within us
whilst He spoke to us on the way ? " Most pleasant
of companions, Who makes all to run after Him, to
the sweetness of His voice and the attractions of virtues,
as to the delicious odour of spiritual ointments ! Hence
they, the Spouse and the young maidens, also say, " We
will run to the odour of Thy ointments." Sometimes,
again, He presents Himself as a wealthy Father of a
family, whose house abounds with bread ; or rather as
a magnificent and powerful Monarch, Who appears in
order to support the pusillanimity of His poor Spouse,
and to excite her pious cupidity by showing her all the
riches of His glory, the treasures of His wine-presses
and His storehouses, the abundance of His gardens
and His fields, and lastly, leading her even into the
privacy of His bedchamber. For " the heart of her
Husband trusteth in her " ; and amongst all His pos-
sessions there is nothing which He thinks ought to be
concealed from her whom He redeemed from poverty,
whom He has found faithful under trial, and whom He

374 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

now embraces as worthy of His love. And so He ceases
not to manifest Himself in one or other of these interior
ways to the eye of the soul that seeks Him, in order
that the word may be fulfilled which He spoke, saying,
" Behold, I am with you all days, even to the consum-
mation of the world."

In all these various kinds of vision, the Beloved
appears " sweet and mild and plenteous in mercy."
For as the bashful Bridegroom, intent on kisses, He
shows Himself pleasant and affectionate ; as the Phy-
sician with His oils, His medicines, and His unguents,
clement and rich in the bowels of piety and compassion ;
as a Wayfarer, cheerful and affable and full of charm
and consolation ; as a Monarch, exhibiting His treasures
and possessions, munificent and liberal to reward, with
a royal liberality. And so, in every verse of this Can-
ticle you will see the Word obscurely represented under
such images. Hence, in my opinion, this must have
been the Prophet's meaning, where he says, " A Spirit
before our face is Christ the Lord ; under thy shadow
we shall live among the gentiles"; because, as St.
Paul tells us, " we see now through a glass, in a dark
manner," and not yet " face to face." But this is
to be the case only whilst we "live amongst the
gentiles." For when we are amongst the angels, it
shall be otherwise. Then, enjoying quite the same
happiness as these blessed spirits, we also shall see
Him as He is, that is to say, in the " Form of God,"
and no longer under symbol or figure. For just as
we say that the Old Dispensation possessed but the
shadow and the image, whereas under the Gospel we
have the very truth shining upon us, through the grace
of Christ present in the flesh ; so may we, too, whilst

ON THE VISIONS OF GOD 375

here below, be said to live in the shadow, in comparison
with that light of truth wherewith we shall be illumined
in the world to come. No one will deny this, except
one who does not agree with the Apostle, when he
says, " We know in part and we prophesy in part,"
and, " I do not count myself to have apprehended."
For surely there must be a difference between walking
by faith and walking by vision. And therefore, whilst
the holy soul lives here in the shadow of Christ, the
holy angel rejoices in the splendour of His unclouded
glory.

Yet a good thing is this shadow of the faith, which
tempers the light to the weak eye, and at the same
time strengthens the eye to bear the light. For, as it
is written, Christians should be constantly employed in
" purifying their hearts by faith." Faith, therefore, in-
stead of extinguishing, guards the light. Whatever that
Object is which the angels are already contemplating,
the same, no doubt, faith preserves for me, keeping it
hidden away in its faithful bosom, to be revealed at the
proper time. Is it not well, my brethren, to hold, even
thus wrapped up, a treasure which we could not hold un-
covered ? Even the Lord's Mother herself lived in the
shadow of faith, for to her was it said " And blessed art
thou that hast believed." She had also a shadow from
the Body of Christ, as the Angel implied when he told
her " And the power of the Most High shall overshadow
thee." For that is no slight shadow which is thrown by
the power of the Most High. And truly there was power
in the Flesh of Christ, which overshadowed the Virgin,
so that, by means of the intervening screen of this
vivifying Body, she might be enabled to endure the
presence of the Divine Majesty and bear the splendours

376 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

of the Light inaccessible, a thing otherwise quite im-
possible to a mortal woman. That is power indeed, by
which every opposing power is vanquished. It is at
once a power and a shadow, by which the demons are
put to flight and men sheltered and defended. Or cer-
tainly an invigorating power and a cooling shadow.

We live then, my brethren, in the shadow of Christ,
whilst we walk by faith and feed on His Flesh as the
source of our life. For Christ's Flesh " is Meat indeed."
And consider, whether it may not be for this reason
He is even now represented as appearing in pastoral
guise, if I may so speak, in this place, where the Spouse
seems to address Him as if He were one of the shep-
herds. " Show me," she says, " where Thou feedcst'^
where Thou liest in the mid-day." A " Good Shep-
herd," in truth, " Who giveth His life for His sheep ! "
He gives His life for them, and His Flesh to them.
His life is their ransom, His Flesh their food. Strange
thing ! He is at once their Pastor, their Pasture, and
their Price !

But the conclusion of this discourse is still a long
way off. The subject is a large one, and compre-
hends numerous grandeurs and sublimities, so that it
cannot be compressed within narrow limits. Hence it
seems best to make here an interruption rather than
an end. But memory must watch in the interval, and
not let slip what has been said. For in the next
sermon, I shall resume this subject, and begin at the
point where I now leave off, according as I may be
inspired by Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Bridegroom
of the Church, Who is over all things, God blessed for
ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXII

On the different Ways in which the Word
presents Himself to different Souls, and on
the Sources of Good and Evil Thoughts.

" Show me where Thou Jeedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day."

" Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the
mid-day." Hither, my brethren, have we come, and here
we begin. But before proceeding with the explanation
of this vision and this loving entreaty, I think it would
be well if I briefly recapitulated what has been said of
the other visions already dealt with, showing how they
may be spiritually accommodated to ourselves, accord-
ing to the desires and the merits of each. For in this
way, the understanding of those, if yet it be granted
us, will facilitate the comprehension of this which I pur-
pose to discuss in the present sermon. The undertaking
is far from being an easy one. Although the language
in which the visions or figures are described seems to
refer directly to bodies and things of the body, yet
what is meant to be conveyed to us is something spiri-
tual, and hence the causes and significations have to
be spiritually investigated. But who is capable of ex-
amining and comprehending the so various affections
and advances of the soul to which is dispensed the
multiform grace of the presence of the Bridegroom ?
Yet, if we enter into ourselves, and if the Holy Spirit
deigns to reveal to us by His light the work which He

377

378 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

condescends to busy Himself constantly about in our
interior, I think we shall not remain altogether with-
out understanding of these matters. For I trust that
" we have received, not the spirit of this world, but
the Spirit That is of God, that we may know the things
that are given us from God/'

Therefore, if to any amongst us, as to the holy
Psalmist, it has been given to feel intensely that it
is " good to adhere to God," or, to speak more plainly,
if there be amongst us such a " man of desires " that
he "desires to be dissolved and to be with Christ,"
and desires this ardently, thirsts for it eagerly, and
meditates on it night and day, he certainly shall re-
ceive the Word not otherwise than in the character
of a Bridegroom, at the time of his visitation. That
is to say, at the hour when he feels himself closely em-
braced in his interior, with the arms, so to speak, of
divine wisdom, and experiences in consequence a sweet
infusion of holy love. For " his heart's desire " has
been given him, whilst still sojourning in the body.
Yet only in part, and that but for a time, and a short
time. For the Beloved, after having been sought and
found with so many watchings, so many supplications,
so much labour, such floods of tears, suddenly slips
away, when we are supposing that we still hold Him
fast. Then, again, He unexpectedly confronts us as,
weeping, we pursue Him, and allows Himself to be
taken hold of, but not to be detained, for He once
more flies suddenly away from our grasp. However,
if the favoured soul be instant in prayer with tears,
He will come back soon to her, and " will not withhold
from her the will of her lips." But very soon He again
disappears, and is no longer seen, unless He be followed

SOURCES OF GOOD AND EVIL THOUGHTS 379

with the fulness of the heart's desire. In this way,
therefore, even in our exile here below, we may often
experience the joy of the Bridegroom's presence, yet
not unto satiety. For although the visitation brings
us gladness the withdrawal causes pain in proportion.
And so long must the beloved Spouse endure this
vicissitude of consolation and abandonment until,
having once laid aside the burden of corporeal flesh,
she, too, learns how to fly, lifted up on the wings of holy
desires, and to make her way unimpeded through the
far-spreading aerial plains of divine contemplation,
with liberty of spirit following her Beloved " whither-
soever He goeth." Yet not to every soul does He com-
municate Himself in this manner, even momentarily,
but only to that which, by the fervour of her devotion,
and the eagerness of her desires and the surpassing
tenderness of her love, proves herself to be a true
spouse, and worthy that the Beloved, in coming to
pay her a visit, should "put on His beauty," assuming
the form of a Bridegroom. For she that is not yet
found so disposed, but rather afflicted at the recol-
lection of her sins, ought to say to God, speaking in
the bitterness of her soul, " Condemn me not." And
she who has still to struggle against violent temptation
from her " own concupiscence, being drawn away and
allured," it is not a Bridegroom such a one needs,
but a Physician. Therefore, she receives, instead of
kisses and caresses, only oils and unguents as remedies
for her wounds. Have we not often felt this in our-
selves ? Has not this been our own experience in prayer,
still daily afflicted as we are by our present excesses,
and tortured by the memory of the past ? O good
Jesus, from how great a bitterness of soul Thy advent

380 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

has frequently delivered me ! How often, after anxious
tears, after " unspeakable groanings " and sobbings hast
Thou not anointed my wounded conscience with the
unction of Thy mercy, and soothed it with an infusion
of the " oil of gladness " ! How often has it not hap-
pened that the prayer, which found me almost aban-
doned by hope, restored to me peace and joy with the
assurance of pardon ! They who have had the same
experience, " behold they know " how truly the Lord
Jesus is called a Physician, " Who healeth the broken
of heart, and bindeth up their wounds." And such as
cannot claim experimental knowledge of this, must
believe Him when He says of Himself, "The Spirit
of the Lord is upon me, wherefore He hath anointed
Me ; He hath sent Me to preach to the meek, to heal
the contrite of heart." But if they still doubt, let
them draw nigh to Him and put the matter to trial.
So, from what happens in themselves, they shall come
to an understanding of His words, " I will have mercy
and not sacrifice." But let us now pass on to consider
the remaining points of our subject.

There are some, my brethren, who, tired of spiritual
things, lapse into tepidity, and in a certain faintness
of the spirit, walk sadly on in the ways of the Lord,
approaching every duty with a dry and heavy heart,
and often giving way to discontent and murmuring.
Weary and desolate, they are heard to complain of the
length of the days and of the length of the nights.
With holy Job they say, " If I lie down to sleep I shall
say, when shall I rise ? and again I shall look for the
evening." Therefore, whenever we happen to suffer any-
thing like this, if only the Lord out of pity should meet
us " in the way in which we are walking," and, being

SOURCES OF GOOD AND EVIL THOUGHTS 381

Himself from heaven, should begin to talk to us of the
things of heaven, or to sing us a sweet and soothing
song of the canticles of Si on, or to entertain us with
an account of the city of God, of the peace of that
city, the eternity of that peace, and the immutability of
that eternity, I assure you, my brethren, such delight-
ful conversation would be as a soft litter to the drowsy
and weary wayfarers, relieving at once the languor of
the mind and the fatigue of the body. Does it not seem
to you that such was the experience of him and such
the object of his prayer, who said, " My soul hath
slumbered through heaviness ; strengthen Thou me in
Thy words " ? And when his request was granted, did
he not exclaim, "Oh, how I have loved Thy law, O
Lord ! " ? Our meditations on our Bridegroom, the
Word, on His Glory, His Beauty, His Power, His
Majesty, may be considered as His conversations with
us. A ad not only that, but even when with fervent
hearts we ponder His testimonies and the " judgments
of His Mouth," and " meditate on His law, day and
night," let us be firmly convinced that the Beloved
is there present and speaking to us, so that, charmed
with His words, we may not grow weary of the labour.
Whenever, therefore, my brethren, you are conscious
of entertaining such thoughts in your souls, do not
mistake them for your own reflections, but acknowledge
them to be the interior speech of Him Who declares
by the mouth of His Prophet, " I (am He) That speak
justice." For there is, in some respects, the closest re-
semblance * between the thoughts of our mind and the

* " Son, observe diligently the motions of nature and grace for
they move very opposite ways and very subtlely, and can hardly be
distinguished but by a spiritual man, and one that is internally
illuminated " — Imitation, Bk. III. ch. liv. — (Translator.)

382 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

words of Truth speaking within us. Hence, it is no easy
matter for a man to distinguish the words which his
heart utters from those which it simply hears, unless he
prudently attends to the teaching of Christ, where He
tells us in the Gospel that " from the heart come forth
evil thoughts," and where He says, " Why do you think
evil in your hearts ? " and, " When he speaketh a
lie, he speaketh of his own." And the Apostle simi-
larly asserts " not that we are sufficient to think any-
thing of ourselves, as of ourselves, but our sufficiency
is from God." It is, of course, only the sufficiency to
think anything good that he refuses to admit in us. The
evil, therefore, that we revolve in our minds is our own
thought ; the good is the secret word of God. Our
hearts speak the former, they only listen to the latter.
" I will hear," says the Psalmist, " what the Lord God
will speak in me, for He will speak peace unto His
people." Consequently, it is God Who speaks peace,
piety, and justice in us. Of ourselves we cannot think
of such things, we do but hear them. On the other
hand, murders, uncleannesses, thefts, blasphemies, and
such like come forth from the heart. These are not
heard by it, but spoken. For "the fool hath said in
his heart, there is no God." And therefore "hath the
wicked provoked God, for he hath said in his heart,
He will not require it." But there is something besides,
which is indeed felt by the heart, and yet is not a word
uttered by the heart. For it does not come forth from
the heart as our own thought. Neither is it the same
as that other word, which, as I said, is spoken by Truth
to the heart, viz., the word of the Word, since this word
is evil. But it is inspired by the opposing powers, as one
of the things sent " by evil angels " (Immissiones per

SOURCES OF GOOD AND EVIL THOUGHTS 383

angelos malos — Ps. cxxvii. 49). So we read that the
demon put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, the son
of Simon, as an evil word, to betray the Lord.

But who is there that watches so vigilantly and con-
stantly over his interior feelings, whether only in him,
or also from him, that in every illicit emotion of the
heart he clearly distinguishes between the natural cor-
ruption of his own mind and the bite of the serpent ?
In my opinion, no mortal man is capable of this, unless
he who, enlightened by the Paraclete, has received
that special grace which the Apostle mentions amongst
the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and names the discernment
of spirits. One may guard his heart with all possible
vigilance, according to Solomon ; and with most watch-
ful attention observe all its interior motions ; one may
be long practised and have frequent experience in these
matfers, yet never shall he be able to discriminate with
certitude between the home-sprung evil and the hell-
inspired. For " who can understand sins ? " But it
concerns us very little to know whence the evil is, as
long as we perceive that it is really within us. Rather,
whatsoever its source, we should make it our business
to watch and pray assiduously, lest we should give it
our consent. The Psalmist prays against both evils,
viz., that originating from our own hearts, and that
inspired by the demon, when he says, " From my secret
sins cleanse me, O Lord, and from those of others spare
Thy servant." I cannot deliver unto you, my brethren,
that which I have not myself received. But I have not
received, I must candidly confess, any means of dis-
tinguishing infallibly between the evil that is begotten
of the heart and that which is injected by the enemy.
Both are truly evils, and proceed from an evil source ;

384 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

both are in the heart, yet not both of the heart. Of
that much I am certain, although I am not able to
determine what is to be attributed to the domestic, and
what to the foreign enemy. However, as I have already
remarked, such ignorance is attended with no great
danger.

But there is another matter wherein error would un-
questionably be perilous, nay, even pernicious, viz., in
assigning to their respective sources the good and the
evil which we discover within us. And here we have
duly prescribed for us a certain and definite rule lest we
should credit ourselves with what belongs to God, mis-
taking the divine visitation for fruit of our own hearts,
or, on the other hand, attribute to grace what is but
the product of nature. For between these two there is
the same distinction as between good and evil. Our
rule, therefore, is this, that nothing of evil must be
ascribed to God, nor anything of good to ourselves,
except perhaps that which the heart may have pre-
viously conceived through the grace of the Word. For
"a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can
an evil tree bring forth good fruit." But I think enough
has now been said to show how much of the contents
of our minds is due to God, and how much to ourselves,
or the evil spirit ; enough, I say, yet nothing super-
fluous, since I want the enemies of grace * to under-
stand clearly that, without grace, the human heart is
incapable of even a good thought, but its " sufficiency is
from God " ; and that the good which is conceived is

* The Saint is here alluding to Abelard and his followers
who went beyond Pelagius himself in their attempts to depre-
ciate grace, Which, according to them; is nothing supernatural
at all, but either the very light of our natural reason, or at most,
the example of Christ. — (Translator.)

SOURCES OF GOOD AND EVIL THOUGHTS 385

rather the voice of the Lord than the offspring of the
mind. If, then, you hear that voice, you will no longer
be ignorant " whence it cometh, or whither it goeth,"
knowing that it " cometh from God and goeth " to
the heart. But see to it that the word which comes
forth from the Mouth of God does not return to Him
empty, " but that it shall do and prosper in all the
things for which He sent it." Thus shall you also be
able to say, " His grace in me hath not been void."

Happy the soul to which the Bridegroom, as her
inseparable Companion, everywhere shows Himself
affable, and gives to experience uninterruptedly the
sweetness of His divine eloquence ! She certainly will
have it in her power at all times to deliver herself
from the troubles and temptations that have their
source in the flesh, whilst she occupies herself in " re-
deeming the time because the days are evil." Weari-
ness and distress can have no access to such a soul,
for, as it is written, " Whatsoever shall befall the
just man, it shall not make him sad."

Now, it seems to me, my brethren, that the Word
also manifests Himself as a great Father of a family,
or rather under the form of Royal Majesty, to those
who, as the Psalmist says, have " come to a deep
heart," viz., have their hearts filled with noble courage,
and are rendered more magnanimous by great liberty of
spirit and purity of conscience. I mean such as are
wont to dare the difficult things, to penetrate the deep
things with a kind of restless yet commendable curi-
osity, to lay hold of the high things and to undertake
the perfect things, and that, not so much in the phy-
sical, as in the spiritual order. For these are found
worthy, by reason of the greatness of their faith, to be

I. 26

386 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

admitted to the fulness of every grace. And amongst
all the storerooms of wisdom, I do not think there is
a single one from which "the Lord, the God of all
knowledge " judges that they should be excluded who
show themselves as desirous of truth as they are strangers
to vanity. Such a one was Moses, who dared to say
to God, " If I have found favour in Thy sight, show
me Thy Face." Such was St. Philip, who asked that
the Father should be shown to himself and to his
fellow-apostles. Such, too, was St. Thomas, who re-
fused to believe unless with his own fingers he touched
the Saviour's Wounds, and put his hand into His pierced
Side. His faith, indeed, was weak, but was founded, in
a sense, in his greatness of soul, as is clear from his bold-
ness in demanding such a proof. Anothei such was King
David, for he also desired to see the Lord, and said to
Him, " My heart hath said to Thee : my face hath sought
Thee, Thy Face, O Lord, will I still seek." These men,
accordingly, had the courage to ask for great things,
because they were themselves great men. And they
obtained that which they had the daring to solicit, ac-
cording to the promise made to them, namely, " Every
place that your foot shall tread upon shall be yours."
For great faith merits a great reward. And as far as
you extend the foot of your confidence in the goods
of the Lord, so far shall be yours.

Thus we find that Moses spoke to God face to face.
The holy Legislator deserved to see the Lord openly
and not " in a dark manner " and under symbols and
figures, whilst the Lord Himself declared that He
revealed Himself to other prophets only in visions and
spoke to them only in dreams. St. Philip, likewise,
according to the petition of his heart, was shown the

SOURCES OF GOOD AND EVIL THOUGHTS 387

Father in the Son, no doubt, in the words immediately
addressed to him, " Philip, he that seeth Me, seeth the
Father also," and, " I am in the Father and the Father
in Me." To St. Thomas, also, his request was granted,
for the Word gave Himself to him to be handled accord-
ing to his heart's desire, and did not " defraud him of
the will of his lips." What shall I say of David ? Does
not he, too, give us to understand that he was not
defrauded of the object of his desire, when he declares
that he will not " give sleep to his eyes, nor slumber
to his eyelids, nor rest to his temples, until he found a
place for the Lord " ? Thus the Bridegroom will appear
in His greatness to such great souls, and will <f do great
things for them." He will " send forth His light and
His truth, and conduct them and bring them unto His
holy hill and into His tabernacles," so that each of
them shall be able to say with Mary, " He that is
mighty hath done great things for me." Their eyes
shall behold the " King in his beauty " guiding their
steps towards the " beautiful places of the desert," to
the home of the roses and the lilies of the valleys, and
to the pleasant gardens, and to the refreshing fountains,
and to the storehouses replenished with delights, and
to the fragrant spices, and lastly, even to the privacy
of the royal bedchamber.

Such, my brethren, are the " treasures of wisdom and
knowledge " concealed in the abode of the Bridegroom.
Such are the pastures of life, prepared for the nourish-
ment of holy souls. " Blessed is the man that hath
fulfilled his desire with them." Only let me exhort
him not to wish to keep to himself alone that which
would suffice for many. It is, perhaps, for this reason
that after the mention of all these treasures the

388 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Bridegroom is described as appealing in the form of a
Shepherd, viz., to remind him who has received so much
grace, of his obligation to feed the flock of the simple.
By the simple I mean those who have neither the power
to attain to such things of themselves, nor yet the
courage to go out into the pastures without their shep-
herd. The prudent Spouse, conscious of this, begs to
be shown where He feeds and reposes in the mid-day
heat, yearning, as her words indicate, to be fed and to
feed with Him, and under His protection. For she does
not think it safe to drive her flock far from the Supreme
Pastor, on account of the hostile incursions of the
wolves, particularly of the wolves that come to us in
sheep's clothing. Hence, she is anxious to feed in the
same pastures with Him and to repose in the same
shade. And she explains the reason of her request when
she adds, " Lest I begin to wander after the flocks of
Thy companions." These are they who wish to appear
the friends of the Bridegroom, but are not. And
although they are more concerned to feed their own
flocks than His, yet they keep crying out deceitfully
from time to time, " Lo, here is Christ, lo, there is
Christ," in order to seduce the many, to lead them away
from the flock of the Lord, and unite them to their
own. Thus far I have been occupied with the obvious
sense of my text. The underlying spiritual signification
shall engage me in my next discourse, in which I hope
to communicate to you whatever lights may, mean-
time, be vouchsafed me in answer to your prayers,
through the gracious mercy of the Bridegroom of the
Church, Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is over all things,
God blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXIII

On the three Objects of the devout Soul's
Quest, on the Mystical Meridian, and the
four Kinds of Temptation.

" Show me, O Thou Whom my soul loveth, where Thoujeedest, where
Thou liest in the mid-day, lest I begin to wander ajter the flocks
oj Thy companions."

" Show me, O Thou Whom my soul loveth, where
Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day."
' Show me why Thou judgest me so," exclaims another
voice, that, namely, of holy Job, wherein, however, he
does not find fault with the sentence pronounced against
him, but merely inquires the cause, desiring instruction
in the truth rather than deliverance from his afflictions.
The Psalmist likewise makes a similar prayer in these
words, " Show, O Lord, Thy ways to me and teach
me Thy paths." And what he means by " ways " and
" paths " he explains in another place, where he says,
" He hath led me on the paths of justice." These
three things, therefore, the soul that is devoted to
God's service will constantly seek, viz., justice, and
judgment, and the place where her Bridegroom's glory
dwell eth, as the way in which she should walk, the
landmarks wherewith she should guide her progress,
and the home whither she should direct her steps.
Of this home we read in the Psalms, " One thing
I have asked of the Lord, this will I seek after : that
I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of

389

390 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

my life." Also, " I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of
Thy house ; and the place where Thy glory dwelleth.,,
Of the other two, namely, justice and judgment, the
same inspired author says, " Justice and judgment are
the preparation of Thy throne." Rightly then, does
the devout soul seek these three things, since they are
nothing else than the throne of God and the " prepara-
tion " of His throne. And it is the glorious prerogative
of the Spouse that all alike concur to the consum-
mation of her virtue, so that she is rendered beautiful
by the form of justice, cautious by the knowledge of
judgment, and chaste by the desire of the Bridegroom's
presence or glory. Such assuredly the Spouse of the
Lord ought to be, beautiful, enlightened, and chaste.
Therefore, this petition, which I have put last, has for
object a knowledge of the Bridegroom's dwelling. For
the Spouse requests of Him Whom her soul loveth, that
He would show her where He feedeth, where He lieth
in the mid-day.

And notice, in the first place, how beautifully she
distinguishes the love of the spirit from the love of the
flesh ; for, whilst desirous to designate her Beloved by
affection rather than by name, she nevertheless does not
simply say, " Thou Whom I love," but, " O Thou Whom
my soul loveth " ; and thus she gives us to understand
that her love is spiritual. In the next place, consider
diligently what is that which pleases her so much is
the place of His pasturage. Nor should you pass over
without examination what she says of the meridian
hour, and the fact that she inquires particularly about
the place where He at one and the same time feeds
and reposes, which is a sign of great security. For, as
I think, the words " where Thou liest " are added in

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 391

order to signify that in this place there is no need to
stand and to keep watch and ward over the flock, since
even whilst the shepherd lies down to repose in the
shade, the sheep in safety may wander at will over the
pastures. Happy land where the sheep go in and out
as they please with nothing to make them afraid !
Who will grant me that I may behold you, 0 most
blissful flock, that I may feed on the celestial moun-
tains with the ninety-nine, which, as we read, the
Divine Pastor left there whilst He graciously de-
scended to seek the one that had strayed from Him !
Securely, no doubt, does He recline close to that flock,
since He did not hesitate even to withdraw to a dis-
tance from it, knowing that He left it in safety. With
good reason, then, does the Spouse sigh after those
heavenly hills. With good reason does she yearn for
that place of pasture and peace, of tranquillity and
security, of exultation, of wonder, and ecstatic bliss.
For even I who, miserable man that I am, still sojourn
here at so great a distance from that " land of de-
lights," and salute it only from afar — behold, even I
am moved to tears at the thought of it, and feel ex-
cited to make my own the sentiments and words of
those who said, " Upon the rivers of Babylon, there
we sat and wept when we remembered Sion." I, too,
feel prompted to cry with the Spouse and with the
Psalmist, " Praise thy God, O Sion, because He hath
strengthened the bolts of thy gates, He hath blessed
thy children within thee ; Who hath placed peace in
thy borders, and filled thee with the fat of corn." Who
would not desire to feed there where he finds peace, fat-
ness, and fulness ? That place can surely know neither
fear, nor want, nor weariness. For there is a safe abode

392 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

in paradise, sweet food in the Word Divine, abounding
wealth in eternity.

We also have the Word in this place of our sojourning,
but the Word made flesh. And truth is set before us,*
but under a sacramental veil. The angels feed on the
fatness of the corn and eat their fill of the pure grain.
But we, whilst here below, have to be satisfied with the
husk of a Sacrament, with the bran of the Flesh, with
the chaff of the letter, with the dark shroud of faith.
And these are the things whose taste brings death if
they be not seasoned in some degree with the first
fruits of the Spirit. Assuredly I shall find "death in
the pot " unless its contents are sweetened with the
meal of the Prophet.f For without the Spirit the
Sacrament is received unto judgment, the Flesh profiteth
nothing, the letter killeth, and faith is dead. But " it
is the Spirit that quickeneth " these elements so that I
may live by them. Yet, however abundantly enriched
with spiritual grace, the husk of the Sacrament can
never surely taste as sweet as the fatness of the pure
grain, nor faith as vision, nor the memorial as the
unveiled presence, nor time as eternity, nor the reflection
as the Face, nor the form of a servant as the Figure of
God. For in all matters of this nature, I am rich indeed
in faith, but poor in understanding. And unquestionably
faith and understanding have not an equally pleasant
flavour, since the former stands for merit and the
latter for reward. You perceive, therefore, my brethren,
tfrnt there is as great a£ difference between the spiritual
food of the blessed above and that of sojourners here
below, as there is between the places of their habitation ;
and that, as the heavens are exalted above the earth,

* Cf. The Imitation, Bk. IV, ch. ». f Cf. 4 Kings iv. 39-41.

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 393

so are the blessings poured out upon dwellers in paradise
superior to those bestowed upon mortal men.

Let us hasten, then, my children, let us hasten to
that safer place, to that sweeter pasture, to those richer
and more fertile fields. Let us hasten thither where
we may dwell without fear, abound beyond the possi-
bility of want, feast without satiety. For Thou, O
Lord of Sabbath,* Who judgest all with tranquillity,
dost likewise feed all with security in that happy land.
Thou art there both Lord of Hosts and Pastor of the
sheep. Therefore, Thou reclinest whilst Thou feedest
Thy blessed ones. But not so with us. Thou wert
standing when, looking down from heaven, Thou didst
behold one of Thy little sheep — I speak of the Proto-
martyr Stephen — surrounded by wolves upon earth.
And hence I pray, " Show me where Thou feedest,
where Thou liest in the mid-day," that is, during
the whole day ; for there the whole day is as the
meridian, and knows no decline. Therefore, " Better
is one day in Thy courts above thousands," because
that one day has never a sunset. But perchance
it had a sunrise when the " sanctified day dawned
upon us," "through the bowels of the mercy of our
God in which the Orient from on high hath visited us."
Then, truly " we received Thy mercy, O God, in the midst
of Thy temple," when " in the midst of the shadow of
death," the light of the dayspring suddenly broke upon
us, and "in the morning we beheld the glory of the
Lord." How " many kings and prophets have desired to
see " this light " and have not seen " ? Wherefore ? For

* In the Latin, "Domine Sabaoth," Lord of Hosts; but the
context seems to require both here and elsewhere, "Domine
Sabbati," Lord of Rest (cf. Mark ii. 28), and so I have rendered
it. — (Translator.)

394 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

no other reason than because it was still night, and
that longed-for morning to which mercy was promised
had not yet dawned. Hence also King David made
this prayer, " Cause me to hear Thy mercy in the
morning ; for in Thee have I hoped."

The aurora, so to speak, of this spiritual day began
with the announcement of the Sun of Justice by the
Archangel Gabriel, when by the operation of the Holy
Ghost a virgin conceived God in her womb, and, still
a virgin, brought Him forth ; and it continued as long
as He was seen on earth and conversed amongst men.
For during all that time the light appeared so weak
and as if in truth the light of the aurora, that scarcely
anyone realised that the day had dawned upon men.
And indeed " if they had known they would never have
crucified the Lord of glory." Hence, to the little
company of disciples it was said, " So far there is little
light in you," * because, namely, it was yet only the
aurora or beginning, or rather but the first evidence of
dawn, whilst the Sun still hid His beams instead of
radiating them around the world. In the same sense
St. Paul exclaimed, "the night is passed and the day
is at hand," thus indicating that there was as yet so
little light that he considered it more correct to say
"the day is at hand" than "the day has dawned."
Now, my brethren, when did he speak thus ? It was
certainly after the Divine Sun had returned from be-
neath the earth and had already mounted to the height
of heaven. With how much greater truth might the
same words have been spoken whilst the aurora was

* This is St. Bernard's interpretation of the text " adhuc
modicum lumen in vobis est " (John xii. 35) which is commonly
rendered, " Yet a little while the light is among you." — (Trans-
lator.)

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 395

overcast, as it were, by the dense cloud, of the " like-
ness of sinful flesh," that is, by a Body resembling
our own in Its liability to all manner of suffering and
infirmity, so that neither the bitterness of death nor the
shame of the cross was wanting to It ? With how much
greater truth, I say, could the light have been then de-
scribed as excessively faint and feeble, and proceeding
apparently rather from the aurora than from the actual
presence of the Sun ?

Therefore, the whole life of Christ upon earth was an
aurora of twilight and obscurity, that is, until the
brighter effulgence of the Sun's presence in the sky,
after His setting and glorious rising, caused the dim-
ness of dawn to disappear before the clearness of morn-
ing, and night was " swallowed up in victory." So we
read in St. Mark, " And very early in the morning, the
first day of the week, they came to the sepulchre, the
sun being now risen." Surely it was morning since the
Sun of Justice had risen. But He derived a new love-
liness from His Resurrection, and a more placid radi-
ance than He had manifested before, for " if we have
known Christ according to the flesh ; but now we know
Him so no longer." It is written in the psalms, " He
is clothed with beauty : the Lord is clothed with
strength and hath girded Himself," because He has
stripped Himself of the clouds, so to speak, of our
mortal infirmities and put on the garments of
His glory. Having ascended above the horizon,
the Sun began to diffuse His influence gradually
over the earth, and little by little to make His
light and His heat everywhere more sensibly felt.
But however much He increases His warmth and
strength, however much He multiplies and scatters

396 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

His rays over the whole course of this our mortal ex-
istence— for He shall abide with us unto " the con-
summation of the world " — yet He shall never attain
here to His meridian splendour, nor be seen in that
fulness and perfection of His glory, in which He is
to be contemplated hereafter, by those, that is to say,
whom He shall deem Worthy of this vision. O true
meridian, plenitude of light and heat, when the Sun
stands still at His zenith, banishing the shadows,
drying up the marshes, extinguishing all noxious
odours ! O solstice everlasting, when the day no more
declines ! O light of the noontide ! O happy season,
representing at once the genial softness of spring, the
loveliness of summer, the richness of autumn, and lest
I should seem to omit anything, the peace and rest of
winter ! Or certainly, if you are better pleased with this,
winter alone is then " over and gone." " Show me,"
says the Spouse, " this place of such brightness, peace,
and plenitude, in order that, just as Jacob still abiding
in the flesh beheld the Lord 'face to face and his soul
was saved alive ' ; or as Moses saw Him, not like the
other prophets, in symbols, signs and dreams, but in
a far more excellent way, unknown to all save God and
himself ; or as Isaias, when the eyes of his heart had
been opened, contemplated Him on His 'high and
elevated throne ' ; or even as St. Paul gazed with mortal
eyes upon the Lord Jesus Christ, what time he was
rapt up to the third heaven and heard things un-
utterable— that so I, too, in spiritual rapture may
deserve to see Thee in Thy light and in Thy beauty,
and contemplate Thee where Thou feedest Thy flock
on richer pastures than here on earth, and reposest with
greater security.

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 397

" Here on earth also Thou dost feed Thy sheep, yet
not unto fulness. Neither mayst Thou lie down here, but
must rather stand and watch because of the ' terrors of
the night.' Alas ! we have in our present pasture neither
clear light, nor full feeding, nor a safe dwelling. And
hence I pray, ' Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou
liest in the mid-day.' Thou sayest I am blessed when I
hunger and thirst after justice. But what is such blessed-
ness to the happiness of those who are ' filled with the
good things of Thy house,' who ' feast and rejoice before
the Lord and are delighted with gladness ' ? Neverthe-
less, Thou dost pronounce me blessed if I sutler any-
thing for justice sake. And certainly there is pleasure,
though not security, in being fed where one has to
fear suffering. But is it not a painful pleasure to be
fed and afflicted at one and the same time ? Every-
thing here below falls short of perfection ; many things
are contrary to my will ; and nothing is safe. When
wilt Thou ' fill me with joy with Thy Countenance ' ?
' Thy Face, O Lord, will I seek.' For Thy Face is the
noontide. O ' Show me where Thou feedest, where
Thou liest in the mid-day ' ! I know well enough where
Thou feedest standing. But show me where Thou
feedest and reclinest. Neither am I ignorant where
Thou are wont to feed Thy flock at other times. But
I desire to know ' where Thou feedest, where Thou
liest in the mid-day.' For during the whole period of
my mortal career, I have been accustomed, under Thy
care, to feed myself and others upon Thee as Thou art
to be found in the law and in the prophets and in the
psalms. I have likewise found refreshment in the
evangelical pastures and in the writings of the apostles.
Often, too, have I, like a beggar, borrowed what

398 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

nourishment I could for myself and my children from
the examples, the speeches, and the writings of Thy
saints. But more frequently — this kind of food being
more within reach — I have eaten the bread of affliction
and drunk the wine of compunction ; and ' my tears have
been my bread day and night, whilst it is said to me
daily : where is thy God ? ' Yet sometimes from Thy
table — for ' Thou hast prepared a table before me,
against them that afflict me ' — sometimes, I say, from
Thy table, as a gift of Thy compassion, I receive the
meat that restores my vigour, when my soul is sad
and troubling me. These pastures are known to me,
and thither I have often followed Thee as my Shepherd.
But show me, I beseech Thee, those I have not yet
enjoyed.

" There are indeed other Shepherds besides Thee,
who say they are Thy companions, but are not. These
have their own flocks and their own pastures, filled
with the food of death, wherein they feed their sheep
not with Thee nor under Thy direction. But their
bounds I have not entered, nor even so much as ap-
proached. They are those who say ' Lo, here is Christ ;
lo, He is there,' promising more abundant fields of
wisdom and knowledge. And they impose on the
people and draw to them multitudes whom they make
1 children of hell twofold more than themselves.'
Wherefore this ? It is because we have here neither the
meridian nor the clear light of day, wherein the truth
might be readily recognised, for which now falsity,
because of its resemblance to it, is easily mistaken ;
for it is difficult to distinguish them in the twilight,
especially since ' stolen waters are sweeter and hidden
bread more pleasant.' And, therefore, I entreat Thee to

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 399

' show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in the
mid-day/ that is, in the broad daylight, lest I be se-
duced and ' begin to wander after the flocks of Thy
companions,' who are themselves but strays and wan-
derers, having no certain truth to direct them, ' ever
learning and never attaining to a knowledge of the
truth.' " So far the Spouse, speaking of the doctrines,
as various as vain, of heretics and philosophers.

It seems to me, however, that not alone on account
of such human seducers, but also because of the wiles
of the invisible powers, the lying spirits who sit in
ambush with their " arrows prepared in the quiver,
to shoot in the dark the upright of heart " — it seems
to me, I say, that because of these especially, we also
ought to desire the mid-day, in order to detect by the
clear light the cunning snares of the demon, and to
distinguish easily from our good angel that angel of
Satan who transforms himself into an angel of light.
For it is only in the light of noon-day that we can
defend ourselves from "the invasion and from the
noon-day devil." And the reason why that demon
is called the noon-day devil is, I believe, this. There
are some amongst the malignant spirits, who although
by reason of their darkened and obstinate will, they may
justly be named night and night everlasting, yet know
how to simulate the day, and even the noon-day, in
order to deceive us. So their leader, not content with
making himself the equal of God, goes so far as to
" oppose and to be lifted up against all that is called
God, or that is worshipped." Whenever, therefore,
such a noon-day devil takes hold of anyone to tempt
him, it is quite impossible that he should be thwarted
and fail of his object, but he will most certainly seduce

400 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

and supplant his victim by the false appearance of virtue,
moving the incautious and unguarded soul to take evil
for good, unless the true Noon-day, the Orient from on
high, shall enlighten her, and unmask and expose the
deceiver. And it is when he comes to us with the sug-
gestion of a greater good, as it were, that the tempter
appears as the noon-day, that is, in more than his usual
brightness.

How often, for example, has he* not urged one or
other of you, my brethren, to anticipate the hour of
rising, so that afterwards he might have the satisfac-
tion of seeing him nodding whilst all the rest were em-
ployed in praising God ! How often has he not induced
another to prolong his fast until loss of strength ren-
dered him useless for the divine service ! How many,
through envy of the rapid progress they were making
in community life, has he not persuaded, under the
pretext of higher perfection, to seek the desert ! And
at length, when it was all too late, his poor dupes came
to realise the truth of the oracle, " Woe to him that is
alone, for when he falleth he hath none to lift him up ! "
How many also has he not tempted to apply themselves
with excessive zeal to manual labour, with the view
that they might injure their health and so require to
be dispensed from all the regular exercises ! What
numbers has he not led to undertake " bodily exercise,"
which, [according to the Apostle, is "profitable to
little, " not in a little but in too great a degree, and
so defrauded them of the merit of piety ! Finally, you
yourselves, my brethren, know by experience how
some — and I speak it to their shame — who once
could not be restrained within the limits of modera-
tion, being carried on in everything by the spirit of

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 401

intemperate zeal, have afterwards relapsed into such a
depth of sloth that we may apply to them the words
of St. Paul : they began in the spirit and are now
ending in the flesh. For they seem now to have made a
most dishonourable peace with those bodies against
which they had previously declared merciless war.
You may see such religious — shame on them, I say ! —
who before used to refuse even necessaries with the
utmost obstinacy, now begging importunately for super-
fluities. And even though there be some who still
continue inflexibly stubborn, by their indiscreet ab-
stinence and notable singularity still disturbing the
consciences of their brethren with whom they should
" dwell together in unity," I know not whether they
suppose themselves to have preserved their piety, but
to me they seem to have renounced it even more
completely than those others above-mentioned. For
religious persons who, being wise in their own con-
ceit, have determined with themselves to be guided
neither by the commands nor the counsels of their
superiors, ought to consider what answer they shall
make, not to me, but to Him Who says, " It is like
the sin of witchcraft to rebel ; and like the crime of
idolatry to refuse to obey." And He declared just
before that " Obedience is better than sacrifices, and to
hearken rather than to offer the fat of rams " — where
the fat of rams may be taken to signify the abstinence
of the obstinate. Hence the Lord asks by the mouth
of His Prophet, " Shall I eat the flesh of bullocks ?
or shall I drink the blood of goats ? " By which He
means to tell us that He will 1 eject utterly the fastings
of the proud and the sensual.

But I now feel apprehensive lest, whilst condemning
1. 2 c

402 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the superstitiously austere, I should seem to encourage
the lax, and that the latter should hear to their hurt
what has been offered as a remedy to the former.
Wherefore, let both the one class and the other re-
member that there are four kinds of temptation. They
are thus described for us in the words of the Psalmist,
" His truth shall compass thee with a shield ; thou shalt
not be afraid of the terror of the night ; of the arrow
that flieth in the day ; of the business that walketh
about in the dark ; of invasion, or of the noon-day
devil." Let all, even you who are neither over-lax
nor over- austere, be now attentive to what I think
will be profitable to all. Every one of us, my brethren,
after his conversion to the Lord, has experienced and
does still experience in himself that which Holy Scrip-
ture says, " Son, when thou comest to the service of
God, stand in justice and fear, and prepare thy soul
for temptation." Consequently, according to the rule
of ordinary providence, during the first stage of our
conversion we were agitated with fear, which is excited
in the minds of beginners by the terrifying prospect
of a stricter life, and the austerity of regular discipline.
Now, this fear is called the "terror of the night,"
either because the word " night " is used in Holy Scrip-
ture to designate adversity ; or because we are kept
still in the dark about the reward for the sake of which
we go forward to suffer what is painful. For if that
day had fully brightened, in the light of which we
could behold with equal clearness both our labours and
the immortal crowns which shall compensate them, no
toils, however great, would inspire us with alarm, on
account of the eagerness with which we should long
for the fruits of them, thus distinctly perceived. This

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 403

is clear from the words of the Apostle, " The sufferings
of this time are not worthy to be compared with the
glory to come, that shall be revealed in us." But
now, because they — the rewards — are hidden from our
eyes, there is night meantime and in so far. For we are
tempted by the "terror of the night," being afraid
to endure our present labours for the crowns which
we do not see. Beginners, therefore, have to watch
and pray against this first temptation particularly,
lest, suddenly overtaken by " pusillanimity of spirit
and the storm," they should — which God forbid ! —
abandon their holy enterprise.

Having overcome this temptation to despair, we have
next to arm ourselves against human praise, which is
evoked especially by holiness of life. Otherwise we
shall run the risk of being wounded by the " arrow
that flieth in the day," that is to say, by vainglory.
For, in a sense, good fame may truly be said to fly.
And it flies in the day, because it springs from the
works of light. But if this temptation also is blown
aside like an idle vapour, it remains for the seducer
to offer us something more substantial, namely, the
riches and honours of the world, in the hope that
he who refuses praise may still be willing to accept
wealth and dignity. Consider here, my brethren, if
this be not the order in which the temptations were
presented to Our Lord in the desert. After the sugges-
tion to throw Himself from the pinnacle of the temple,
which was intended to excite vainglory, He was shown
and offered all the kingdoms of the world. Do you, then,
imitate your Master in resisting this third temptation
also. If not, you must inevitably be overcome by the
' business that walketh about in the dark," which is

404 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

hypocrisy. For this vice is born of ambition and makes
its abode in obscurity, since it dissembles what it is
and simulates what it is not. Busily intriguing at all
times, it retains the appearance of piety as a disguise,
laying claim to* the merit of virtue and buying the
honours thereof.

The last temptation is from the " noon-day devil,"
who is wont to lie in wait particularly for the perfect.
These, as being men of virtue, have escaped all other
dangers, viz., from pleasures, applause, and honours.
The tempter has now no other weapon wherewith to
attack them openly. He comes therefore masked, since
he no longer dares to show himself in his real char-
acter. And those whom he knows from experience
will turn away in horror from manifest evil, he en-
deavours to seduce by a deceptive appearance of good.
Even such as can say with the Apostle, " We are not
ignorant of his devices," have to be anxiously on their
guard against this snare, and that the more, the further
advanced they are in virtue. Hence it is that Mary
was troubled at the angelic salutation, suspecting, as
I think, some hidden deceit. Josue also refused to
receive the friendly angel until he had satisfied him-
self that he was really a friend. For he inquired whether
he was on his own side or was in league with his ad-
versaries, as one who had experience of the cunning
tricks of this " noon-day devil." On a certain occasion,
again, when the apostles were labouring at the oars,
the wind being contrary and blowing the ship about,
they saw the Lord walking on the sea ; and supposing

* " Virtutem ejus vindicans." Many editions have " ven-
ditans," which seems to make no good sense. The reading
adopted here is Mabillon's. — (Translator.)

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 405

Him to be a spirit, they cried out for fear. Is it not
plain that they then showed their dread and suspicion
of the noon-day devil ? And you remember the words
of Holy Scripture that " in the fourth watch of the
night He came to them, walking upon the sea." It
is therefore in the fourth watch, that is to say, in the
final stage of our progress towards perfection, that we
have to look out for this temptation. And we are given
to understand that the higher a soul finds herself to
be exalted, the more careful should she be in watch-
ing against the "invasion and the noon-day devil."
Furthermore, when the true Meridian manifested Him-
self to the disciples with the words, " It is I, fear not,"
immediately they were enabled to put aside their
suspicion of the counterfeit. Would to God that to
us also, whenever specious falsity attempts to impose
on us, the true Meridian, " the Orient from on high,"
would " send forth His light and His truth " to expose
the fraud and again, as in the beginning, to divide the
light from the darkness, so that we may no longer
deserve to be reproached by the Prophet as " putting
darkness for light and light for darkness " !

I will next attempt to point out how these four
temptations have attacked in their order even the
mystical body of Christ, which is the Church, that is,
unless so long a sermon would weary you. Well, I
will make the exposition as brief as I can. Consider,
then, the primitive Church, and see if it was not per-
vaded and most fiercely assailed by the " terror of the
night." For then surely it was night, when everyone
who slew the saints thought he was doing a service to
God. But when this temptation had been overcome
and the tempest had passed over, the Church appeared

406 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

in glory, and, according to the promise made to it,
soon occupied the place of pre-eminence in the world.
Then the enemy, enraged by his previous disappoint-
ment, cunningly exchanged the " terror of the night "
for the " arrow that flieth in the day," and with it,
as St. Paul speaks, wounded "some of the Church."
For there arose vain men, who hungered after earthly
glory and sought to make a name for themselves.
Going forth from the Christian body, they began to
afflict their holy mother by teaching diverse and per-
verse doctrines. But this second plague found a remedy
in the wisdom of the doctors, as did the first in the
patience of the martyrs.

The present generation, my brethren, is, through the
mercy of God, free from both these dangers. But it is
manifestly corrupted by the " business that walketh
about in the dark." Woe to this generation by reason
of the leaven of the Pharisees ! I mean, because of its
hypocrisy, if indeed that ought to be called hypocrisy
which is now too prevalent to lie concealed and too im-
pudent to seek concealment. To-day the foul disease
has spread itself throughout the whole body of Christ's
mystical Bride, the more incurable in proportion as it
is widely extended, and the more deadly the more deeply
it penetrates. Were one to rise up against holy mother
Church, teaching open heresy, he would be cut off like
an infected member, and cast forth to rot. Were a
persecuting enemy to appear against her, she might per-
haps hide herself from his violence. But now whom
shall she cast forth, and from whom shall she hide
herself ? All are her friends and nevertheless all are
her enemies. All are her children and, at the same time,
all are her adversaries. All arc her domestics, yet none

ON THE THREE OBJECTS 407

give her peace. All are her neighbours, whilst all seek
the things that are their own. They are Christ's min-
isters, but they serve Antichrist. Honoured with the
goods of the Lord, they refuse to render due honour
to the Lord. Hence that worldly ornamentation which
daily meets our eyes, that showy style of dress, more
befitting a stage-player than a Christian cleric, that
splendour of appointment which even kings might envy.
Hence the gold mountings on bridles, saddles, and
spurs ; for such trappings are more carefully embellished
than the altars of God. Hence the splendid tables, fur-
nished with costly plate and delicate viands. Hence
the " drunkenness and revellings." Hence the music
of the harp and the lyre and the flute. Hence the
brimming winepresses, and the " storehouses full,
flowing out of this into that." Hence the phials of
sweet perfumes. Hence the well-filled coffers. It is
for the sake of such things that they desire to be, and
do actually become provosts of churches, deans, arch-
deacons, bishops, archbishops. For these dignities are
not now bestowed upon merit, but are given to that
" business that walketh about in the dark," namely,
to ambition.

It was said of old, and now we see the fulfilment of
the prediction, " Behold in peace is my bitterness most
bitter." Bitter was the bitterness of holy mother
Church in the early ages whilst the martyrs were being
slaughtered ; it was more bitter during her struggle
with heresy ; but it is now become most bitter owing
to the corrupt morals of her own children. These she
can neither drive away nor flee from, so powerfu! have
they grown, and " they are multiplied beyond number."
She is now attacked by an internal and incurable dis-

408 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

temper, and therefore " in peace is her bitterness most
bitter." But in what peace ? There is peace and there
is no peace. There is peace from infidels and peace from
heretics, but she has no peace from her children. " I
have brought up children and exalted them, but they
have despised me." Such is her plaintive cry in our
day. "They have heaped contempt and dishonour
on me by their shameful lives, by their shameful love
of lucre, by their shameful traffic, by their devotion
to the ' business that walketh about in the dark.' "
It only remains now for the " noon-day devil " to make
his appearance in order to seduce, if he can, the remnant
who still abide in Christ, persevering in their sim-
plicity. For he has already swallowed up the " rivers "
of the wise and the " torrents " of the powerful, " and he
trusteth that the Jordan-that is to say, the simple
and humble children of the Church— may run into his
mouth." This is Antichrist * who simulates the day,
yea, and the Meridian, " and is lifted up above all that
is called God, or that is worshipped." Him may the
Lord Jesus slay " with the Spirit of His Mouth and with
the brightness of His coming," as the true and never-
fading Meridian, the Bridegroom and Advocate of the
Church, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever.
Amen.

* It may be of interest to observe that in St. Bernard's own
day the coming of Antichrist was believed to be at hand. St
ISoibert, Founder of the Premonstratensians, claimed to have*
A^w d//1eveIation to that effect. He was visited by the
Abbot of Clairvaux, who has left us an account of the inter-
view in his 56th Epistle : "He declared that he knew for certain
?+w ^ lSt WaS t0 be reve^ed in the present generation
and that he himself would live to see a general persecution.
Still I was not convinced. "—(Translator.)

SERMON XXXIV
On Humility and Patience.

" If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women, go forth and
follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the
tents of the shepherds."

" If thou know not thyself, O fairest among women,
go forth and follow after the steps of the flocks and
feed thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds." In
times long past, my brethren, holy Moses, who could
presume much on the familiarity and the friendship to
which the Lord had admitted him, made bold to aspire
to a certain extraordinary privilege, so that he said
to God, "If I have found favour in Thy sight, show
me Thy Face." But instead of the vision for which
he prayed, he was given another far inferior, yet one
whereby he might sometime attain to that he desired.
The sons of Zebedee also, walking in the simplicity
of their hearts, ventured to ask a great favour. But
they likewise had to be satisfied with a lower grace,
from which the ascent to the higher should be made.
So here the Spouse, as seeming to make a presumptuous
request, is reproved with an answer, sharp indeed, yet
helpful and true. For it is necessary that he who
aspires to things sublime should entertain lowly senti-
ments of himself. Otherwise, whilst attempting to
rise above himself he would run the risk of falling

below himself, unless he is solidly grounded in himself

409

410 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

by means of true humility. And as without humility
there is no possibility of obtaining extraordinary
favours of God, he who is to be enriched with special
graces, has first to be humbled by correction, in order
that by humility he may merit his advancement.
Therefore, my brethren, whenever you see yourselves
humbled, consider this a certain sign of the approach
of grace.* For just as " the spirit is lifted up before a
fall," so is the soul humbled before being exalted.
Both these laws of the spiritual life are found in Holy
Scripture, where we read that " God resisteth the
proud and giveth His grace to the humble." Finally,
we have the case of holy Job. After his magnificent
triumph, when his heroic and splendidly proved pati-
ence was considered by God to be deserving of a great
reward, did He not first cause him to be humbled by
many severe trials and so prepared for the coming
prosperity ?

But it is not enough to receive willingly the humi-
liations which come to us directly from God, if we do
not accept in the same dispositions those which He
sends us through the agency of others. Wherefore,
listen to a glorious example of such patience from the
history of the Prophet David. On one occasion he was
reviled with curses, and that by a servant. But the
insults heaped upon him awakened in his breast no
feelings of resentment, because the influence of grace
was there dominant. " What have I," said he, "to do
with you, ye sons of Sarvia." O truly " a man according
to God's own Heart," who felt called upon to show
indignation rather against the avenger than against

* " Temptation going before is usually a sign of ensuing
consolation " (Imitation, Bk. II. ch. ix.). — (Translator.)

ON HUMILITY AND PATIENCE 411

the author of his wrongs ! Hence he could say with
a safe conscience, " If >I have rendered to them that
repaid me evils, let me deservedly fall empty before
my enemies." He therefore would not allow his fol-
lowers to prevent the malevolent one from cursing
him, esteeming this cursing as so much gain. " The
Lord," he added, " hath bid him curse David." Surely
he must have been " according to God's own Heart,"
seeing that he could thus discover the judgments of
the Heart of God. Whilst the tongue of the maligner
was pouring out its venom upon him, he kept his
attention fixed on God's secret designs. And his soul
was bending down to receive a divine benediction, at
the very time when that Semei's cursing voice was
sounding in his ears. Was the Lord, therefore, in the
blasphemer's mouth ? God forbid ! But He made use
of the blasphemer to humble David. Nor was this
unknown to the Prophet to whom God had manifested
" the uncertain and hidden things of His wisdom."
Therefore he declared "It is good for me that Thou
hast humbled me, that I may learn Thy justifications."
Observe, my brethren, how humility justifies us.
Humility, I say, not humiliation. How many there
are who suffer humiliation without being humble !
Some endure humiliation with bitterness, others with
patience, others again with gladness. The first class are
culpable, the second are innocent, the last are just.
Although innocence may be considered a part of justice,
still the perfection of justice belongs to humility. Now,
he is truly humble who can say from his heart, " It is
good for me that Thou hast humbled me." But he
who submits to humiliation against his will cannot
sincerely say this. Much less, he who murmurs against

412 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

it. To neither of these do I promise grace simply
because he is humbled. Yet there is a vast difference
between the two, since the one possesses his soul in
patience, whereas the other perishes in his discontent.
But, although the latter merits indignation, neither
merits grace. For it is not to the humbled but to the
humble that God gives His grace. The humble man is
he who converts humiliation into humility, and it is
only such can say to God, " It is good for me that Thou
hast humbled me."

No one, manifestly, esteems that a good to him, but
rather an evil, which he endures only with patience.
And we know that " God loveth a cheerful giver."
Hence, when we fast we are bidden to anoint our heads
with oil and to wash our face, in order that our good
work may be seasoned, so to speak, with spiritual
joy, and that our " holocaust may be made fat." For
it is only a joyous and perfect humility that merits
the grace of which humiliation is the herald. But the
humility which is due to necessity or compulsion,
such as that of the man who possesses his soul in pati-
ence, such humility, I say, although it obtains life on
account of its patience, yet, as accompanied by sadness,
gives no title to the grace of the promise. And the
reason is, because the words of Scripture, " Let the
brother of low condition glory in his exaltation," do not
apply to a humility of that description, which is neither
spontaneous nor joyful.

Do you wish, my brethren, to behold a mam glorying
in the right way, and rightly deserving of glory?
" Gladly," says the great Apostle, " will I glory in
my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell
in me." He does not say he will bear his infirmities

ON HUMILITY AND PATIENCE 413

with patience, but that he will " glory " and " gladly
glory " in them. Thus he proves that it is good for
him that he has been humbled, and indicates that it is
by no means sufficient to possess his soul by enduring
humiliations patiently, unless he also obtains the grace
promised to those who rejoice in their humiliations.
Hence we may regard as a general rule these words of
Christ, " He that humbleth himself shall be exalted."
From them we learn that not every kind of humility is to
be exalted, but that alone which is cheerfully embraced
by the will, not with sadness, nor by constraint ; just as,
on the other hand, not every one that is exalted shall
be humbled, but only he who exalts himself, he shall
he humbled, in punishment, evidently, of his vain and
voluntary ambition. In this way, then, not he who is
humbled, but he who humbles himself, has the promise
of exaltation, as the reward of his good will. But
although the objective element, or the matter of humility,
comes from outside, for instance, insults, injuries, or
chastisement, not on that account would it be true
to say that the man who determines for God's sake
to bear these trials is humbled by any other than by
himself.

But whither am I drifting ? However, I think you
will easily excuse this long digression on humility and
patience. I shall now return to the subject whence
I wandered. My remarks on patience and humility
were suggested by the Bridegroom's reply, wherewith
He thought proper to rebuke the presumption of His
Spouse, in asking things too far above her. This He did,
not with the intention of confounding her, but in order
to give her an occasion for greater and better tried
humility, whereby she would become more deserving

4i4 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

of the higher gifts and more qualified to receive the
graces she solicited. But as I am still only at the
beginning of this verse, I shall leave the exposition of
it, if you allow me, for another sermon, lest the
words of the heavenly Bridegroom should be either
discussed without interest or heard without relish.
From which evil may He protect His servants, Our
Lord Jesus Christ, Who is over all things, God blessed
for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXV

On the two Kinds of Ignorance which we ought
to fear and to avoid.

" If thou know not thyself, O fairest of women, go forth and follow
after the steps of the flocks, and feed thy kids beside the tents
of the shepherds."

" If thou know not thyself, go forth." The Bride-
groom, my brethren, is here administering a sharp
and severe reprimand, inasmuch as He uses the ex-
pression " go forth.'' Such a command servants are
wont to hear from their masters when under the
influence of excessive anger and indignation, and hand-
maidens from their mistresses whose deep displeasure
they have incurred. " Get thee hence," cries the
wrathful lord or lady, " depart from my presence,
get out of my sight, leave my house." This, then, is
the language, harsh and bitter enough, and conveying
a stern reproof, in which the Bridegroom addresses
His beloved. But He speaks conditionally, " if thou
know not thyself." And certainly He could not employ
a more powerful or more efficacious means- for inspiring
her with terror than to threaten her thus with being
sent forth. You will agree with me in this, my brethren,
if you consider well whence she is bidden to go and
whither. For what else is that change whereof she is
here warned but the decline from the spirit to the
flesh, from the goods of the soul to earthly desires,
from interior peace and joy of heart to worldly tumult

415

416 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

and the distractions of temporal cares ? That is to say,
the Spouse is bidden to go forth to things in which
she shall find only labour and pain and affliction of
spirit. For the soul that has once learned from the
Lord and obtained the grace to enter into herself, and
in her own interior to yearn for the presence of God
and to "seek His Face at all times " — since " God is
a Spirit," and they that seek Him ought to "walk in
the spirit and not in the flesh, so as to live according to
the flesh" — such a soul, I say, would scarcely consider
the endurance, for a time, of the pains of hell a more
terrible and unbearable chastisement, than, after tast-
ing the sweetness of this interior and spiritual life,
to have to return to the pleasures, or rather to the
troubles of the flesh, and to become again the slave
of the insatiable appetite of the senses, of which
Ecclesiastes says, " The eye is not filled with seeing
nor the ear with hearing." Attend to one who,
learned by experience the truth of what I am saying.
" The Lord," exclaimed the Prophet Jeremias, " is
good to them that hope in Him, to the soul that
seeketh Him." Should anyone endeavour to deprive
the holy soul of this good which she enjoys in
union with her God, I believe she would suffer quite
as much as if she saw herself expelled from paradise
and driven away from the very gates of glory. Listen
to another Prophet speaking in the same sense. " My
heart," sings the Psalmist, "hath said to Thee: my
face hath sought Thee ; Thy Face, O Lord, will I still
seek." Hence he also says, " It is good for me to adhere
to my God." And again, addressing his soul, "Turn,
0 my soul, unto thy rest, for the Lord hath been boun-
tiful to thee." Hence, I say to you, there is nothing

THE TWO KINDS OF IGNORANCE 417

so dreaded by the soul that has once been raised to
union with the heavenly Bridegroom as to be abandoned
by grace and thus, in a manner, obliged to go forth
again to the consolations, rather the desolations, of
the flesh, and again to endure the distraction and
turbulence of the bodily senses.

Therefore, my brethren, truly awful and terrifying is
the threat conveyed in the words, " Go forth and feed
thy kids." As much as to say, " Know thyself to be
undeserving of that sweet and familiar contemplation
of things celestial, spiritual, and divine, which I have
hitherto permitted thee. Wherefore, go forth from My
sanctuary, which is thine own heart, where thou hast
been accustomed to receive with rapture the hidden
and holy impressions of wisdom and truth. And for
the future, apply thyself to the task of satisfying and
pleasing the senses of the flesh." For by " kids " —
which are symbolic of sin and on the Last Day are to
stand on the Judge's left — the Bridegroom means the
wandering and wayward sensitive faculties, by which,
as through windows, sin and death found entrance to

I the soul. With this interpretation the words which
follow in our text — " beside the tents of the shepherds "
— can be perfectly harmonised. For kids have their

! pasture not, like lambs, above, but beside the tents
of the shepherds. That is to say, shepherds, who are
truly such, although living in tabernacles on the earth

I and of the earth, viz., their mortal bodies, wherein they

\ carry on their spiritual warfare, are nevertheless wont to
feed the flocks of Christ, not on earthly but on heavenly
pastures, since they direct them not according to their
own, but according to their Master's Will. But the kids,
that is, the material senses, do not need such spiritual

I. 3D

418 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

nourishment. " Beside the tents of the shepherds,"
viz., amidst all the sensible goods of this world — in the
world of bodies — they find wherewith — I will not say
to appease but to provoke their desires.

What an ignominious change of occupation, my
brethren ! She whose only care heretofore was to
nourish her soul, whilst a sojourner and an exile here
on earth, with the heavenly food of holy meditations,
to study the good pleasure of God and the mysterious
dispositions of His sovereign Will, to penetrate the
heavens by the fervour of her love, and to visit in fancy
the abodes of the blessed, to salute the patriarchs and
the prophets and the apostolic company, to admire the
bands of triumphant martyrs, and to stand amazed
before the magnificent choirs of the angels — she who
was accustomed to be thus employed has now to re-
nounce all this happiness and to engage herself to the
dishonourable service of the earthly body. Hence-
forth it shall be her business to obey the flesh, to gra-
tify the stomach and the palate, to beg through the
world — through this world, the " fashion " whereof
" passeth away " — the means of appeasing to some
extent an ever ravenous appetite for pleasure. Send
forth, O my eyes, send forth torrents of tears over
the fate of such a soul, which, having been brought
up in scarlet, now riots in filth ! In the words of holy
Job, " She hath fed the barren that beareth not, and
to the widow she hath done no good." And observe
that it is not simply said to her " go forth " ; but " go
forth and follow after the steps of the flocks, and feed
thy kids beside the tents of the shepherds." By these
words the Bridegroom, as it seems to me, intends to
warn us about a matter of gravest import. Do you

THE TWO KINDS OF IGNORANCE 419

wish to know what it is ? Alas ! my brethren. It is that
a creature * noble by origin, but long since degraded to
the level of the brute, and now going miserably from
bad to worse, is not allowed even to keep her place
amongst the flock, but is bidden to follow after. Now
some one may ask, how can that be ? It is only what
we read in the psalms, " And man when he was in
honour did not understand ; he is compared to sense-
less beasts and is become like to them." Behold how
the noble creature is reduced to the level of the common
brutes. And I suppose if these irrational animals were
endowed with the faculty of speech, they would say,
" Behold Adam is become as one of us." " Man, when
he was in honour." Would you like to be told in what
honour ? He dwelt in paradise. His days were passed
in a place of pleasure. Neither suffering nor want had
any access to him. Surrounded with odoriferous apple
trees, reclining on banks of flowers, crowned with honour
and glory, and set over all the works of his Creator,
he enjoyed the bliss and the companionship of the holy
angels and of all the powers of the host of heaven.
Yet his grandest prerogative was the glory of the divine
image impressed upon his soul.

But this glory of God he " changed into the likeness
of a calf that eateth grass." Therefore it was that
the Bread of angels became Grass, and was laid in the
manger, and placed before us, who were now nothing
better than brute animals. For " the Word was made
Flesh," and according to the Prophet, " All flesh is
grass." Yet this Grass has by no means become

* " Egregia creatura facta de grege." The holy Preacher is
here referring to the etymology of the word " egregia/' which
is a compound from e grege, and means " outside " or " dis-
tinguished from the common herd." — (Translator.)

420 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

withered, neither has Its flower fallen off, since the
Spirit of the Lord rested upon It, as Isaias predicted.
And the reason why all flesh was once destroyed was
because the Spirit of life had withdrawn from it. For
it is written, " My Spirit shall not remain in man for
ever, because he is flesh." You must understand that
it is the vices of human nature which are here called
flesh, not human nature itself ; because the Spirit is
expelled, not by what is natural in us, but by what is
vicious and sinful. It is, therefore, on account of its
corruption by sin that the Prophet says, " All flesh is
grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of the
field. The grass is withered and the flower is fallen."
But this does not apply to that Flower Which came
forth from and rose up out of the root and the rod of
Jesse, because on It rested the Spirit of the Lord. Nor
does it apply to that Grass or Flesh Which the Word
was made, since the Prophet goes on to say, " But the
Word of the Lord endureth for ever." For if the Word
is Grass, and the Word endureth for ever, the Grass
also must endure for ever. How otherwise, unless It
endures for ever, can It communicate eternal life ? And
yet we read of It, "If any man eat of this Bread, he
shall live for ever." What Bread is meant we have
clearly explained for us in the words that follow, " And
the Bread That I will give is My Flesh for the life of
the world." How, then, can That which is the Prin-
ciple of eternal life to others, be Itself otherwise than
eternal ?

But recall now with me, my brethren, the words
addressed to the Father by His Son, where He speaks
in the psalm. "Thou wilt not give Thy Holy One,"
He says, "to see corruption." Doubtless, He is here
speaking of His Body, Which lay lifeless in the tomb.

THE TWO KINDS OF IGNORANCE 421

For This was also called holy by the Angel Gabriel,
who announced the Incarnation to Mary in the words,
" The Holy That shall be born of thee shall be called
the Son of God." Surely, then, that holy Grass, Which
sprung up in the pastures, verdant with a perennial
freshness, of the Virgin's spotless womb, Which the
angels contemplate with eager love and ever-new
delight — surely, that Divine Grass can never see cor-
ruption. If, indeed, Mary, in becoming a mother, had
lost her virginal bloom, in that case the Grass also
would lose Its greenness. Hence the Food of man
converted Itself into the Food of beasts, when man
became as a beast. Oh, what a sad and mournful
change ! That man, the dweller in paradise, the lord
of the earth, the citizen of heaven, the domestic of the
Lord of Sabaoth, the brother of the blessed spirits,
and the co-heir with the celestial powers — that such a
one should find himself by a sudden transformation,
lying down in a stable from weakness, needing grass,
like the beast whose image he had assumed, and be-
cause of his ungovernable ferocity bound to the manger,
as it is written, " With bit and bridle bind fast their
jaws, who come not nigh to Thee ! " Yet, even now,
O ox, recognise thy Owner, and thou, O ass, thy
Master's crib, that the prophets of the Lord may be
found faithful, who foretold these wonders of God !
Know even in 'thy present bestial condition Him Whom
as a man thou didst not know. Adore in the stable
the God Whom in paradise thou didst flee from. Honour
the manger of Him Whose divine authority thou hast
despised. Eat Him now as Grass, Whom as Bread and
the Bread of angels thou didst disdain.

But, you will ask, my brethren, what could be the
cause of such degeneration ? It is unquestionably the

422 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

fact that " man, when he was in honour, did not under-
stand." What is it that he did not understand ? The
Prophet does not explain ; but let me attempt to do
so. Being placed in honour, and elated in spirit at
the greatness of his glory, he failed to understand that
he was but the slime of the earth. And immediately
he experienced in himself what, long ages afterwards,
one of the heirs of his captivity prudently observed
and faithfully proclaimed, when he said, " If any man
think himself to be something, whereas he is nothing,
he deceiveth himself." Alas for our miserable first
parent, that there was none to say to him, " O earth
and ashes, why art thou proud ? " Hence it was that
the noble rational creature became associated with the
dumb beasts ; hence the divine image was exchanged
for the brutish ; hence the society of holy angels gave
place to that of irrational animals. Do you perceive
now, my brethren, how much to be avoided is this
kind of ignorance, which has been the source of such
innumerable evils to the whole human race ? For the
Prophet declares that the reason why man is com-
pared to the mindless brute is that he " did not under-
stand." Consequently, we must guard against this
ignorance by every means in our power, lest, haply, if
still found without understanding, even after our chas-
tisement, we should have to endure evils much more
numerous and terrible than the former ; and lest it
be said of us, " We would have cured Babylon, but
she is not healed." And very justly so, since not even
correction brought " understanding to our hearing."

And consider, my brethren, if this be not the reason
why the Bridegroom, when warning His beloved in
so terrifying a manner against ignorance, did not say
to her " go forth with the flocks," or "go forth to the

THE TWO KINDS OF IGNORANCE 423

flocks," but " go forth and follow after the steps of
the flocks." For why should He speak thus, unless
to point out that we ought to be more afraid and
ashamed of the second ignorance, i.e., the ignorance
after correction, than of the first, since, if the first
placed man on a level with the brutes, the second
places him after, that is, beneath them. Beneath the
- brutes I say, because men, ignored and reprobated by
God on account of their ignorance of Him, shall stand
before His dreadful tribunal and be consigned to ever-
lasting flames, but not so the brutes. No doubt, the
condition of those human beings who shall receive such
a judgment will be worse than the state of absolute
nothingness. " It were better for him," said Christ,
speaking of one destined for this doom, " if that man
had not been born." He did not mean to say "if he
had not been born at all," but " if he had not been
born a man," * but a beast, for instance, or some other
kind of irrational creature, which, as not possessing
the faculty of judgment, would never have been called
to judgment, nor, consequently, have been liable to
eternal punishment. Therefore, let the reasoning
animal, who blushes for his former ignorance, know
that although he has the brute beasts as his partners
in the enjoyment of the good things of this earth, he
shall not likewise have their company in the endurance
of the torments of hell — the penalty of the second ignor-
ance ; that in the end he shall be expelled with ignominy
from the society of the flocks and herds of his fellow-
beasts ; and that he shall no longer be allowed to go

* "Melius ei fuerat si natus non fuisset homo ille." St.
Bernard appears to regard the word " homo " in this text as a
predicate, so that the meaning would be, " It were better for
him if he had never been born a man." — (Translator.)

424 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

forth even with them, but only after them. For whereas
death extinguishes in them all capacity for pain, he
shall find himself a prey to every kind of evil, from
which he is never to obtain deliverance. And all this
because of his having added the second ignorance to
the first. Therefore, man goes forth, and goes forth
solitary, to "follow after the steps of the flock," when
he is precipitated into the hell of the damned. Does
not he, think you, occupy a place lower than the brutes,
who, with his hands and feet bound, is " cast into the
exterior darkness " ? And truly " the last state of that
man is made worse than the first," since from an
equality with the beasts he is reduced to inferiority.

Even in the present life, if you consider the matter
carefully, you will perceive, as I think, that man follows
after the brute. For does it not seem to you that one
who, whilst gifted with reason, does not live according
to reason, is in some sense more beastly than the beasts
themselves ? The beasts indeed do not govern them-
selves by reason. But they have an excuse in the
poverty of their nature, to which that faculty has been
altogether denied. For man there is no such excuse,
of whose nature the power of intelligence is a special
prerogative. Justly, then, is man considered to go forth
and to take rank after the flocks and herds, inasmuch
as he is the only animal that by a degenerate life
transgresses the laws of his nature, and, though gifted
with reason, in his habits and affections imitates the
unreasoning brutes. Thus I have shown you that he
follows " after the footsteps of the flocks," in this life
by the corruption of his nature, and shall do so in the
life to come by the extremity of his chastisement.

Behold, my brethren, thus shall the man be cursed
who shall be found without knowledge of God. But is

THE TWO KINDS OF IGNORANCE 425

it " without knowledge of God " I should say, or rather
" without knowledge of himself " ? Undoubtedly, I
should say both. Both kinds of ignorance are criminal,
and either, by itself, suffices for damnation. Do you wish
to be assured of the truth of what I say ? Well, in the
first place, you certainly cannot doubt that ignorance
of God leads to eternal death, since, as you know,
eternal life is nothing else than the knowledge of the
" Father, the only true God," and of " Jesus Christ
Whom He hath sent." Listen, therefore, to the words
of the Bridegroom, wherein He clearly and unmis-
takably condemns the Spouse's ignorance even of her-
self. For what does Ke say ? Not " if thou know not
God," but "if thou know not thyself, go forth and
follow after the flocks." Thus it is evident that, as the
Apostle declares, " If any man know not, he shall not
be known," whether his ignorance be of God or of
himself. These two species of ignorance shall furnish
us with matter for a very useful discussion, if yet the
Lord withholds not His assistance. However, I do not
intend to open that subject now, lest through weari-
ness and the omission of the customary prayers for
light, either I should treat a most important question
with insufficient diligence, or you should listen lan-
guidly to what ought to be received with eager appetite.
For, as the food of the body, when eaten without relish
or hunger, rather injures than benefits, so, and much
more so, with the food of the soul. If taken with dis-
relish or disgust, instead of enlightening the mind, it will
torment the conscience. From which may the Divine
Spouse of the Church protect us, Jesus Christ Our
Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever.
Amen.

SERMON XXXVI

On the Order to be observed in the Acquisition

of Knowledge.

" JJ thou know not thyself, go jorth."

I have come to-day, my brethren, with the purpose
of fulfilling my promise, of gratifying your desires, and
of discharging a duty which I owe to God. Therefore,
as you perceive, three motives move me to speak,
fidelity to engagement, fraternal charity, and the fear
of the Lord. If I am silent, my own mouth shall con-
demn me. But what if I speak ? Of a truth, I fear the
same judgment, that, whilst saying and not doing, I
shall be again condemned by my own mouth. Do you,
then, assist me by your prayers, that I may be able
always both to say what is expedient and to practise
what I preach. You are aware that the subject I have
selected for the present discourse is ignorance, or rather
the varieties of ignorance. For, as you remember, I
spoke of two kinds, namely, ignorance of ourselves
and ignorance of God, both of which I said were crim-
inal and to be avoided. It remains for me now to
explain this subject more clearly and to discuss it
more exhaustively. But it appears to me that I ought
first to inquire whether every kind of ignorance is
blameworthy. I am not inclined to think that such
is the case, since we shall not be condemned for not
knowing everything, and there are many, yea, innumer-
able things whereof ignorance is no obstacle to salvation.

426

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE 427

For instance, in what way would your spiritual interests
suffer from lack of acquaintance with the mechanical
arts, such as that of the carpenter, or the mason, or
any other of those trades which men are wont to ply
for temporal uses ? Even without any knowledge of
those arts which are called liberal, and the study and
exercise of which are considered more noble and pro-
fitable, countless multitudes of men have saved their
souls, pleasing God by their virtues and their works.
How many, for example, does the Apostle enumerate
in his Epistle to the Hebrews, who became dear to
God, less by their knowledge of literature, than by
the purity of their conscience and the sincerity of
their faith ! All pleased the Lord whilst they lived
here below, not by the profundity of their learning,
but by the merit of their virtues. Neither St. Peter
nor St. Andrew, noi the sons of Zebedee, nor any of
their fellow-apostles, was chosen from the schools of
philosophy or rhetoric. And yet, by means of them, the
Saviour " wrought salvation in the midst of the earth."
Not that they could say, like the holy man Ecclesiastes,
that they surpassed all others in wisdom ; but " in their
faith and in their meekness" the Lord saved them,
and even sanctified them, even appointed them to be
the instructors of others. For they made known to the
world His " ways of life," and that " not in loftiness
of speech," nor "in the learned words of human wis-
dom," but as "it pleased God by the foolishness of
their preaching to save them that believe," since " the
world by wisdom knew not God."

Perhaps you consider me unduly severe and narrow
in my views on human knowledge, and suppose that
I am censuring the learned and condemning the study

428 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

of literature. God forbid that I should do so ! I am
well aware how much her learned members have bene-
fited and do still benefit the Church, whether by re-
futing her opponents or by instructing the ignorant.
And I have read what the Lord says by the mouth of
His Prophet Osee, " Because thou hast rejected knowl-
edge, I will reject thee, that thou shalt not do the
office of priesthood to Me " ; and by His Prophet
Daniel, " But they that are learned shall shine as the
brightness of the firmament ; and they that instruct
many to justice, as stars for all eternity." Neverthe-
less, I remember also to have read that " knowledge
puffeth up," and " He that addeth knowledge, addeth
also labour." You perceive, my brethren, that there
are distinctions in knowledge, since there is one kind
that inflates with vainglory, and another which sobers
us. \ Now, I wish to know which of these two varieties
seems to you the more useful or the more necessary
for salvation, that which purls us up with pride, or that
which pains and humbles ? But I feel sure you prefer
the sobering knowledge to the inflating. For whereas
our spiritual health is destroyed by -he swelling of
vanity, the desire of its recovery is excited by the bit-
terness of humiliation. And he who desires salvation
will ask for it and so draw nigh to it, " for every one
that asketh receiveth." Finally, He " Who healeth the
broken of heart," detests the man that is swollen with
pride ; since, as we read in Wisdom, " God resist eth
the proud and giveth His grace to the humble." And
St. Paul thus exhorts the faithful, " I say, by the grace
that is given me, to all that are among you, not to
be more wise than it behoveth to be wise, but to be
wise unto sobriety." He does not forbid them to bu;

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE 429

wise, but only to be " more wise than it behoveth."
But what does he mean by the expression "to be wise
unto sobriety " ? He means, no doubt, to admonish us
that we must examine most carefully what objects of
knowledge have the first and strongest claim to our
study. For "the time is short." Now, all knowledge
is good in itself, provided, however, that it be founded
on truth. But we, my brethren, who are in a hurry
to work out our salvation " with fear and trembling," in
the limited time allowed us, we certainly should devote
our first and best attention to the acquisition of that
knowledge which appears to be most intimately con-
nected with our spiritual welfare. Do not medical
doctors assert that it is a part of their remedies to
determine what their patients shall take first at meals,
what next, and in what quantity they are to use each
kind of meat ? For although it is manifest that all
species of food are good in themselves, as having been
created by God for our use, nevertheless we may easily
render them bad for us, by failing to observe the due
measure and order. Understand, then, of the varieties
of knowledge what I have said of the varieties of food.
But I had better send you to St. Paul himself, whom
I acknowledge as my master. For the doctrine which I
preach is not mine but his. Yet in another sense it is
mine, because it is the doctrine of truth. " If any man,"
says the Apostle, " think that he knoweth anything, he
hath not yet known as he ought to know." You observe,
my brethren, that he does not commend the knowing
of many things in one who is ignorant of the right
manner of knowing, j You observe, I say, how he makes
the fruit and utility of knowledge to consist mainly in
the right manner of knowing. ^What, theief ore, does he
mean by the right manner of knowing ? Evidently he

430 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

wishes to teach us by these words in what order, with
what ardour, and with what intention each kind of
knowledge should be acquired. In what order, because
we ought first to learn those truths which most imme-
diately concern our salvation. With what ardour,
because that knowledge should be most eagerly pur-
sued which most powerfully conduces to charity. With
what intention, because the motive of our studies must
not be vainglory, curiosity, or anything such, but only
our own spiritual advancement and the edification of our
neighbour. There are some who desire to know simply
for the sake of knowing, and this is shameful curiosity.
And there are some who desire to know in order that
they may become known themselves, and this is shame-
ful vanity. To such persons, certainly, can be applied
what the satirist says of the vainglorious man : —

" You rate the worth of knowledge low
Unless your neighbours know you know." *

And some there are who desire to know in order to
trade with their knowledge, bartering it for gold or for
honours, and this is shameful traffic. But there are
some also who desire to know in order to edify, and
this is charity. And some, finally, who desire to know
in order to be edified, and this is prudence.

Of the above-mentioned classes, the last two alone
are free from the guilt of abusing knowledge, for only
these seek understanding as a means of well-doing.
And we read in the psalms, "A good understanding
to all that do it," i.e., to all who have the good will
to guide themselves by its prescriptions. As for the

* " Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter."-*-
Persius.

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE 431

others, let them attend to the words of St. James,
" To him who knoweth to do good, and doth it not,
to him it is sin." To express the same truth meta-
phorically, to him who takes food and does not digest
it, to him it is harmful. For food which is badly pre-
pared or ill-digested generates noxious humours and
thus injures instead of promoting bodily health. In
just the same way, extensive knowledge stored up in
the memory — which is, as it were, the stomach of the
soul — unless it has been cooked over the fire of charity
and so distributed and disposed amongst our spiritual
members — which are our habits and our acts — so that the
soul herself derives a goodness, as our lives and morals
testify, from the goodness of the things she knows —
unless this be the case, our knowledge shall be imputed
to us as sin, and shall be likened to the undigested meat
which gives rise to bad and unwholesome humours. Or
does it not seem to you that sin is an unwholesome
humour ? Are not loose morals unwholesome humours ?
Does not such a one, viz., " he who knoweth to do
good and doth it not," sutler in his conscience the
torments and inflammations of spiritual indigestion ?
And does he not hear within himself the doom of death
and damnation as often as he calls to mind those
words spoken by Christ, " The servant who knew the
will of his Lord, and did not according to His will,
shall be punished with many stripes." And see if
perhaps it be not in the person of such souls that the
Prophet Jeremias exclaims, " My bowels, my bowels
are in pain." But possibly the repetition is intended
to signify a twofold sense, so that besides the meaning
just mentioned, there is need to look for another. This
is what occurs to me. The Prophet may also have

432 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

spoken thus in his own proper person, to indicate that,
though full of knowledge and burning with the fire of
charity, and longing to communicate these spiritual
treasures to others, he yet was unable to find any will-
ing to hear him ; and so what he could not distribute
became, as it were, a burden to himself. Accordingly,
the holy teacher of the Church weeps both for those
who proudly refuse to learn how they should regulate
their lives, and also for those who, possessing that
knowledge, live nevertheless in disregard of the law.
Thus much in explanation of the Prophet's repetition.
\ Do you not perceive now, my brethren, with how
much truth the Apostle says that " knowledge puffeth
up " ? Consequently, I desire that my soul should
learn in the first place to know herself, for this is re-
v quired by reason both of utility and right order. By
reason of good order, since the first object and truth
for each is that which he is himself. And by reason
of utility, because such knowledge does not inflate us
with pride, but rather humbles us, and is thus an ex-
cellent preparation for the spiritual edifice we intend
to raise. | For this edifice cannot remain standing
unless it be firmly grounded on the foundation of
humility. Now, the soul can find nowhere a more
fit and efficacious means for humiliating her than in
a true knowledge of herself. Only let her not dis-
simulate ; let there be no guile in her spirit ; let her
place herself as she really is before her own eyes ; and
let nothing be allowed to distract her attention from
herself. Contemplating herself thus in the light of
truth, she shall discover how far removed she is from
the ideal of perfection. Then, groaning in her wretched-
ness, for her real wretchedness can no longer remain

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE 433

concealed from her, will she not cry out to the Lord,
with the Prophet, " In Thy truth Thou hast humbled
me " ? For how can she help being truly humbled in
this true knowledge of herself, when she beholds herself
laden with sins, oppressed with the weight of this cor-
ruptible body, entangled in worldly cares, polluted with
the filth of carnal desires, blind, earthward stooping,
feeble, involved in many errors, exposed to a thousand
dangers, agitated by a thousand fears, disquieted by a
thousand suspicions, discouraged by a thousand diffi-
culties, burdened with a thousand necessities, prone to
vice, indisposed for virtue ? What motive for pride
can such a one have ? How can such a one haughtily
lift up her eyes or boldly hold her head erect ? Will
she not rather, according to the words of the Psalmist,
be " converted in her anguish, whilst the thorn is fast-
ened ? " Yes, she will be converted to tears ; she will
be converted to lamentations and groans ; she will
be converted to the Lord. Then will she cry out
in her humility, with the Prophet, " Heal my soul,
for I have sinned against Thee." And being now con-
verted, she will receive consolation from the Lord,
because He is " the Father of mercies and the God of
all consolation."

As for me, my brethren, so long as I look upon
myself, " my eye abideth in bitterness." But if I
lift up my face and turn my gaze to the help of the
divine compassion, the depressing vision of my own
un worthiness is relieved by the joyous vision of God,
and I say to Him, " My soul is troubled within myself,
therefore, will I remember Thee." Nor is that an un-
important vision of the Deity, which gives us the ex-
perience of Him as loving and gracious ; because in
1. 2 E

434 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

truth, " He is gracious and merciful, patient and rich
in mercy, and ready to repent of the evil," since good-
ness is His very nature and it is peculiar to Him "to
show mercy always and to spare." By this experience,
therefore, and in this order, God gives us a saving
knowledge of Himself. Man first recognises the help-
lessness of his condition. He then cries to the Lord.
The Lord hears and makes answer to him, " I will
deliver thee and thou shalt honour Me." And thus
the knowledge of oneself leads on to the knowledge of
God. He is perceived by means of His own image,
which is renewed in us, whilst we, confidently " be-
holding the glory of the Lord with open face, are trans-
formed into the same image from glory to glory, as by
the Spirit of the Lord."

But now, lastly, observe that both self-knowledge
and the knowledge of God are alike essential for sal-
vation, so that it is impossible to save one's soul in the
absence of one or other. For if you do not know your-
selves, you cannot have in you either the fear of God
or true humility. Now, I leave it to yourselves, my
brethren, to decide whether or not you can count upon
your salvation without the fear of God and without
humility. I am glad to learn from that murmur you
have made that you have not the mind, or rather the
madness, to take the affirmative view. Consequently,
there is no need for me to labour a point already suffi-
ciently clear. But let me call your attention to the
other questions. Or, perhaps, I had better break off
here for the sake of the drowsy. I expected to com-
plete in one discourse my promised instructions con-
cerning the two kinds of ignorance. And I should do
so in fact, only that this sermon has already wearied

THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE 435

many of you and is judged to be tedious. For I can
see some yawning, and some even fast asleep. How-
ever, I am not surprised. The unusual length of last
night's vigils accounts for their heaviness and excuses
it. But this defence is not possible in the case of all.
For what shall I say of those who have succumbed to
sleep, both here and during the divine office ? But I will
not shame them further. It is enough to have made
them sensible of their fault. And I am sure they will
be more vigilant in future, fearing the penalty of my
animadversion. In that expectation I will spare them
for this time. And although reason demands that
this discourse should be completed without a break,
out of charity for them I will now interrupt it, making
an end where the end is not, and will resume the dis-
cussion on another occasion. But let the offenders, in
gratitude for the mercy they have obtained, glorify
with us all the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ,
Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for
ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXVII

On the Knowledge and the Ignorance of God

and of Self.

" If thou know not thyself, go forth."

I do not think, my brethren, that there is any
necessity to warn you to-day against yielding to sleep,
since, doubtless, the words of charitable reproof which
I addressed to you so late as yesterday are still fresh
in your memory, and have made you determined to
keep wide awake. ( You recollect, then, that I ob-
tained your assent to the proposition that no one is
saved without self-knowledge. For it is, in fact, to
this knowledge that we owe the virtue of humility —
the mother of salvation — and also the fear of the
Lord, which is the beginning of salvation quite as much
as it is the beginning of wisdom. But when I say
that there can be no salvation without self-knowledge,
I mean, of course, for those who are of the age and
have the capacity for acquiring it. This limitation is
necessary on account of infants and idiots whose
case is completely different. But what if one has no
knowledge of God ? Can such ignorance consist with
the hope of salvation ? Surely not. For we can neither
love God without the knowledge of Him, nor possess
Him without the love of Him. Therefore, let us know
ourselves that we may fear God, and let us know God
that we may also love Him. The first of these virtues
introduces us to wisdom, the second brings us to its

436

I

KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE OF GOD 437

perfection, because "the fear of the Lord is the be-
ginning of wisdom," and "love is the fulfilling of the
law." Consequently, it is as necessary to avoid, /
ignorance of God and ignorance of self as it is cer-'
tain that without the fear and the love of God we
cannot save our souls. As regards the knowledge of
other objects, that is a matter of indifference ; we
shall not be condemned for the want of it any more
than its possession will save us.*
* I am far from saying, however, that the knowledge
of letters is to be despised or neglected. Such learning
furnishes and adorns the mind, and enables us to
instruct others. But it is expedient and necessary
to acquire, first of all, that twofold knowledge of God
and self, in which, as I have already shown, our sal-
vation essentially consists.* And see if the Prophet
had not this order of knowing in mind, and did
not recommend it to us when he said, " Sow for your-
selves unto justice, and reap the hope of life," after
which he added, " and light for yourselves the lamp
of knowledge."! He put the knowledge of letters in
the last place, because, like a picture, it must rest upon
something solid ; and for this reason he would have

* The Saint, of course, is here speaking of learning absolutely
and in itself. But what is indifferent, when so considered, may,
and often does, become matter of obligation in the concrete, by
reason of particular circumstances. Thus priests, lawyers,
medical doctors, etc., are strictly bound to possess the learning
necessary for the proper discharge of their respective duties. —
(Translator.)

f St. Bernard is here quoting not from the Vulgate but from
the Septuagint, Q2HE I. 12. " Sneipare iavrols els hiKaiovvvqv,
Tpvyrjaare els Kapnou ^co^y, (paTLcrare eavrols (pcos yvcocrtws. The
Vulgate reading is altogether different, " Seminate vobis in
justitia et metite in ore misericordiae, innovate vobis novale." —
(Translator.)

N^

438 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

it superimposed upon the knowledge of God and self as
upon its proper basis and support . Securely may I apply
myself to the acquisition of learning, if, through the
grace of hope, I have first been rendered secure of the
possession of life. Therefore, my brethren, you have
sown " for yourselves unto justice,'* if by a true knowl-
edge of yourselves you have been awakened to the fear
of God, if you have humbled yourselves, poured out
tears of contrition, given abundant alms, and devoted
yourselves to all the other exercises of piety ; if you
have afflicted your bodies with fastings and watchings ;
if you have beaten your breasts with penitential blows
and wearied heaven with your cries for mercy. This is
what is meant by sowing " for yourselves unto justice."
The seeds to be sown are good works, virtuous pur-
suits, holy tears. " Going they went and wept," says
the Psalmist , " casting their seeds." But then shall they
always weep ? Certainly not. For, as the Prophet goes
on to say, " coming they shall come with joyfulness,
carrying their sheaves." Rightly does he represent
them as coming " with joyfulness," since they carry the
" sheaves " of immortal glory. But it may be objected
that this joy is reserved for the Last Day, and that the
wait is too long. Do not let such a thought discourage
you ; do not lose heart through " pusillanimity of
spirit." You have meantime of the first-fruits of the
Holy Ghost that which you may now reap " with joy-
fulness." " Sow for yourselves unto justice," urges
the Prophet, "reap the hope of life." Mind, he does
not tell us to wait until the Last Day, when we shall
come into actual possession of what we now possess
in hope. But he speaks of the present. The entrance
into eternal life will assuredly fill us with immense

KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE OF GOD 439

happiness and a joy exceeding great. But is not the
very hope of such a joy a joy in itself ? " Rejoicing in
hope," says the Apostle. And notice how David does
not tell us that he will rejoice, but that he has rejoiced,
in the hope of entering into the house of the Lord.
He was not yet in actual enjoyment of life everlasting,
but the hope of it he had already reaped. And he
experienced in himself the truth of the words of Holy
Scripture, where it is written that not alone the reward
itself, but the mere " expectation of the just is joy."
This joy is engendered in the heart of him who sows
for himself unto justice, by the assurance of his pardon ;
provided, however, that such assurance is confirmed by
the efficacy of the grace received in enabling him to
live thereafter more holily. Everyone of you, my
brethren, who is conscious of these operations in his
interior, knows what the Spirit speaks, for His words
and His works are ever in harmony. We therefore
understand what is said, because what the ear hears
exteriorly the heart feels within. For He Who speaks
in us also works within us, " the same Spirit dividing
to everyone according as He will," communicating to
some the gift of speech, to others the grace of well-
doing.

Every one of you, therefore, who, after passing be-
yond the first stage of his conversion, usually so painful
and sorrowful, rejoices in the renewal of hope and in
his elevation on the wings of grace to the more tranquil
state of heavenly consolation — every such soul, I say,
is in truth already reaping, enjoying the temporal fruit
of her tears, She has both seen God and heard His
voice saying to her, " Give her of the fruit of her hands."
For how can it be doubted thai she has seen God, since

440 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

she has even tasted and seen "that the Lord is sweet " ?
Oh, how sweet and savoury dost thou taste to him, Lord
Jesus, who has obtained from Thee not only the pardon
of his sins, but even the grace of sanctity, and not
that alone, but, to crown Thy favours, the promise of
eternal life as well ! Happy he who has reaped so rich
a harvest, having here his " fruit unto sanctification,
and the end life everlasting " ! Justly has he, who wept
on discovering himself, rejoiced, like the apostles, on
beholding the Lord, at the sight of Whose tender com-
passion he has already gathered such abundant sheaves,
pardon, sanctification, and the hope of heaven. Oh, how
true are those words which we read in the Psalmist,
" They that sow in tears shall reap in joy " ! Herein
we find included both the knowledge of self and the
knowledge of God, the former sowing in tears, and the
latter reaping in joy.

Having first acquired this twofold knowledge of God
and self, we are now in no danger of being " puffed up "
by whatever learning we may add to it. For such
learning can offer us nothing in the way of earthly
honour or emolument, which is not so worthless in
comparison with the hope we have conceived and the
gladness of that hope, now deeply rooted in our soul,
that it can no longer be a temptation to us. " And
hope confoundeth not ; because the charity of God is
poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Ghost Who is
given to us." Thus, the reason why hope " confoundeth
not " is because charity infuses certitude. For it is
by charity that " the Spirit Himself giveth testimony to
our spirit that we are the sons of God." What advan-
tage, therefore, can any learning of our own, however
great, bring within our reach, which is not less than

KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE OF GOD 441

this glory wheieby we are numbered amongst the chil-
dren of God ? But this is saying too little, since, in
comparison with such and so great a dignity, the whole
earth and the fulness thereof, although all that were
offered to each one of us, would not be worthy of even
a single thought. But if we are ignorant of God, how
can we hope in One Whom we do not know ? If we are
ignorant of ourselves, how can we have humility, since
we shall think ourselves to be something, whereas we
are nothing, as the Apostle speaks ? And we know that
without humility and hope we can have neither lot
nor fellowship in the inheritance of the saints.

Let us consider now, my brethren, with what care
and solicitude we ought to guard against both these
kinds of ignorance, one of which is the source of all sin
and the other the consummation thereof ; just as, on the
other hand, the first of the two kinds of knowledge is
the beginning, and the second the perfection, of wisdom.
For self-knowledge begets the fear of the Lord, whilst
from the knowledge of God we are led to the love of
Him, as I have already sufficiently explained. It re-
mains now to show how the twofold ignorance stands
in the same relation to sin. As " the fear of the Lord
is the beginning of wisdom," so " pride is the beginning
of all sin w ; and just as the love of God is the con-
summation of wisdom, in the same way is despair the
consummation of sin. Agaia, just as the knowledge of
self leads to the fear of the Lord, and the knowledge of
God to the love of Him ; so, on the contrary, ignorance
of self is the mother of pride, and ignorance of God
gives birth to despair. Pride is the daughter of ignor-
ance of self, inasmuch as our thought, deceived itself
and deceiving us, makes us believe ourselves to be

442 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

better than we really are. Now this is pride, this " the
beginning of all sin," to appear greater in one's own
eyes than one is in truth, or in the eyes of God. And
therefore it is said of him who first committed this
most dreadful sin, the devil, namely, that "he stood
not in the truth, but is a liar from the beginning." *
And the reason is because he was greater in his own
\ thought than he was in truth. What then would be the
consequence if one departed from truth, not by exag-
gerating his merit, but by esteeming himself less than
he really is ? Undoubtedly, his ignorance would excuse
him, and he would not, at any rate, be reputed proud ;
and instead of his " iniquity being found unto hatred,"
his humility would rather be found unto grace and
pardon. Had we a clear knowledge of how we stood,
each of us, in the judgment of God, it would be our
duty to place ourselves neither above nor below that
level, but in all things to be conformed to truth. But
now, since this judgment " hath made darkness its
hiding-place," and the divine appraisement is concealed
from our view, so that " no man knoweth whether
he be worthy of love or hatred," in this uncertainty it
is manifestly better and safer to act according to the
counsel of Divine Truth, and to choose for ourselves the
last place, whence we may afterwards be promoted with
honour, than to usurp too high a position which we
shall soon be compelled to resign in confusion.

We run no risk, consequently, however much we
humble ourselves, no matter how much meaner we make

* Quoted compendiously. St. John's words are, " He was a
murderer from the beginning and he stood not in the truth ;
because truth is not in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh
of his own, for he is a liar and the father thereof." — (Translator.)

KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE OF GOD 443

ourselves than we really are, that is to say, than we are
in the estimation of Infinite Wisdom. But it would be
an immense evil and a fearful danger to exalt oneself, be
it ever so little, above one's proper place, for instance, to
prefer myself in thought even to one, since, perchance, in
the eyes of God, he may be my equal or superior. Let me
give you an example to illustrate my meaning. When
I am passing through a very low doorway, it will do me
no harm to stoop as much as I please. But if I raise
myself too high, even by so much as a finger's breadth,
I at once meet with obstruction, and experience the
painful sensation of knocking my head against the lintel.
It is the same in spiritual things. The soul has nothing
to fear from humility, no matter how low she bends.
But should she rashly presume to lift herself above her
merit, even in the slightest degree, dreadful and ex-
ceedingly awful are the evils that threaten her. Where-
fore, O man, beware of comparing thyself either with
those who are greater than thee or with those who
are less than thee, with many, or even with one. For
how dost thou know whether he, who appears to thee
the vilest and most miserable of all men, whof:e infamous
and utterly abandoned life makes thee shudder with
horror, whom thou regardest consequently as deserving
of contempt, not only in comparison with thyself — who,
in thine own judgment, art living soberly, justly, and
piously — but even in comparison with all other crim-
inals, as being the most criminal of all — how, I ask,
dost thou know whether such a one may not become
hereafter better than both they and thou by the
" change of the right hand of the Most High," or
whether he is not so even now in the sight of God ?
Therefore, the Master recommends us to sit down, not in

444 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

an intermediate place, nor in the place next the last,
nor in one of the last, but in the very last of all. " Go,"
says He, " sit down in the lowest place," so that, placed
last and alone, thou mayest not presume, I do not
say to prefer, but even to compare thyself to anyone.
Behold, my brethren, how great an evil results from
lack of self-knowledge, pride, namely, which is the
sin of the devil, and the beginning of all sin. As re-
gards the ill-consequences to which the ignorance of
God gives rise, I reserve that subject for another oc-
casion. This adjournment is necessitated by the late-
ness of the hour, for we were not assembled to-day as
early as usual. And so let it suffice, meantime, that
each of you has been admonished not to remain in
ignorance of himself, not only by me, but also by the
grace and inspiration of the Bridegroom of the Church,
Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is over all things, God
blessed for ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXVIII

On the Manner in which Ignorance of God leads
to Despair, and on the Beauty of the Spouse.

" If thou know not thyself, go forth."

What is the evil that results from ignorance of God ?
Here, my brethren, I have to resume the discussion
which I interrupted yesterday, and which, if you re-
member, I had conducted to this point. What, then,
is this evil ? I have already told you. It is despair.
But how does the lack of a knowledge of God lead to
despair ? This I shall now endeavour to make clear.
Imagine, then, a person entering into himself, recalling
in the bitterness of his soul all the evils he has done,
and purposing to amend, and to abandon all his wicked
ways and his carnal conversation. Now, if such a one
knows not how good the Lord is, that " He is sweet
and mild and bounteous to forgive," will not his own
natural reason become his accuser and say, " What art
thou about ? Wouldst thou lose both this life and the
life to come ? Thy sins are heinous in malice and
countless in multitude. Thou shalt never be able to
atone for crimes so great and so many, no, not even
shouldst thou strip the very skin from thy body. Be-
sides, thou art of a weak constitution, thou hast lived
delicately, and it will be impossible for thee to conquer
the force of habit." As he does not know how easily
all these difficulties would dissolve and vanish before
the power of that Omnipotent Goodness, Who desires

445

446 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

that none should perish, the poor sinner is driven to
despair by such-like arguments, and miserably returns
to his former evil courses. The result is final impeni-
tence, which is the greatest of sins, as being, in truth,
that blasphemy against the Holy Ghost which shall be
forgiven neither here nor hereafter. For either he is
overwhelmed and swallowed up by an excess of sadness,
which hurries him onward into the abyss, whence he
shall never emerge to seek for consolation, as it is
written : " The wicked man, when he is come into the
depth, contemneth," that is to say, he makes no
effort to deliver himself ; or else he deliberately blinds
himself to the danger of his state, calms his conscience
by some kind of specious reasoning, and plunges again
and irrevocably into the pleasures and satisfactions of a
worldly life, determined to enjoy to the utmost, and as
long as he can, all the good things of this earth. But
" when he shall say peace and security, then shall
sudden destruction come upon him, as the pains upon
her that is with child, and he shall not escape." In
this way, then, from ignorance of God comes the con-
summation of all malice, which is nothing else but
despair.

The Apostle tells us, my brethren, that " some have
not the knowledge of God." But I will venture to say
that none of those who refuse to be converted have the
knowledge of God. For, unquestionably, the only reason
of their unwillingness is that they imagine Him to be
cold and austere Who is really kind and loving ; Him
Who is full of mercy and sweetness they represent to
themselves as hard and implacable, cruel and terrible.
Thus " iniquity lieth to itself," and fashions for itself
an idol of its own, since the god of its fancy is not the

IGNORANCE OF GOD LEADS TO DESPAIR 447

Lord. " Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith ? "
Are you afraid He will refuse to pardon your sins ?
But, as St. Paul declares, together with His own Hands
they were fastened to the cross. Or is it the thought of
penance that terrifies you, who are so tender and deli-
cate ? But " He remembereth that we are dust." Or is
it the vices you have contracted and the binding habits
of sin ? But " the Lord looseth them that are fettered."
Perhaps you are apprehensive lest, provoked by the
magnitude and the multitude of your crimes, He should
hesitate to extend to you a helping hand ? But, accord-
ing to St. Paul, where sin has abounded grace is wont
to superabound. Or finally, is it that you are soli-
citous about your clothes and your food and the other
necessaries of the body, and are therefore reluctant to
renounce what you possess ? But " your heavenly
Father knoweth that you have need of all these things."
What more can you desire ? What obstacle remains
still in the way of your salvation ? But the case is as
I have said. You have not the knowledge of God, and
you refuse to believe what I tell you of Him. If I could
only induce you to credit those at least who speak
from experience ! For " unless you believe you will not
understand." " But not all have the gift of faith."

God forbid, my brethren, that we should suppose the
Spouse to be warned against this danger, that is to
say, against ignorance of God. For she is favoured, I
shall not say with so much knowledge of Him Who is at
once her Bridegroom and her God, but with so much
friendship and familiarity, that she deserves to enjoy
frequently His conversation and even His kisses ; and
now she says to Him with the boldness of an intimate,
" Show me where Thou feedest, where Thou liest in

448 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

the mid-day." Here evidently she begs to be shown,
not Himself, but the " place where His glory dwelleth " ;
although He is not really distinct either from His place
or from His glory. But she is considered deserving of
a reproof on account of her presumption, and of a warn-
ing about self-knowledge, in which she shows herself
to be in some degree wanting by esteeming herself
capable of a vision so great. This presumptuous re-
quest is due, either to the fact that in an ecstasy of love
she forgot that she is still in the flesh, or else to the
vain hope that, whilst abiding still in the body, she
may be able to attain to the inaccessible brightness of
the Divinity. Therefore, she is recalled to herself ; she
is convicted of ignorance and rebuked for her boldness.
" If thou know not thyself," the Bridegroom answers,
" go forth." Thus dreadfully does the Bridegroom
thunder against His Spouse, exhibiting Himself here
not as a Bridegroom but as a Master. Nor is it out of
anger that He so threatens her, but to the end that,
being frightened, she may take pains to purge herself
of every stain, and thus purified, may be made worthy
of the vision for which she longs. For it is only the
clean of heart that shall see God.

Rightly, too, she is called " beautiful," not abso-
lutely and in every sense, but " beautiful amongst
women," that is to say, beautiful with qualifications ;
and this with the intention of repressing her pre-
sumption still more, and that she may learn what is yet
wanting to her. For it seems to me that by the name
of women are here designated those carnal and worldly
souls, which have nothing virile in them, which manifest
no strength or constancy in their activities, but in their
lives and conduct show themselves entirely lax, soft,

IGNORANCE OF GOD LEADS TO DESPAIR 449

and effeminate. The spiritual soul, on the contrary,
walks not according to the flesh, but according to the
spirit, and so far is already beautiful. Yet, inasmuch
as she still lives in the body, she falls short of the per-
fection of beauty. Hence, she is described, not as
absolutely beautiful, but as beautiful amongst women.
That is to say, she is beautiful, in comparison with
souls which are earthly, and not, like her, spiritual.
But she is not beautiful, as compared with the blessed
angels, with the Virtues, Powers, or Dominations.
Thus, of old, one of the patriarchs was found and called
"just in his generation," that is, just beyond all the
other men of his time and generation. Thamar, also,
is proclaimed justified as compared with Juda, that is,
more just than Juda. Likewise, in the Gospel, the Pub-
lican is said to have gone down to his house justified,
but justified in comparison with the Pharisee. And
finally, in that magnificent eulogium pronounced upon
the great Baptist, it is said of him that he is without
a superior, but only amongst the children of women,
not amongst the choirs of blessed heavenly spirits. In
the same way the Spouse is now called beautiful, not
in relation to the holy angels, but, at least whilst she
sojourns here below, only amongst women.

Let the Spouse, therefore, cease, so long as she lives
on earth, to inquire curiously into the things of heaven,
lest haply the " searcher of majesty be overwhelmed by
glory." Let her cease, I repeat, as long as she dwells
amongst women, to strain after those objects which are
found in the abode of the high celestial princes, which
to them alone are visible, to them alone lawful ; for,
heavenly themselves, they are only suitable for the
contemplation of heavenly intelligences. " The vision,

U 2 F

450 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

O my Spouse," so the Bridegroom seems to speak,
" which thou desirest to be shown to thee is entirely
above thy capacity. Thou hast not yet the strength
to gaze upon that marvellous and meridian brightness
wherein I dwell. Thou sayst, ' show me where Thou
feedest, where Thou liest in the mid-day.' But to be
drawn up into the clouds, to penetrate into the pleni-
tude of glory, to plunge into abysses of splendour, and
to dwell in light inaccessible — this neither suits an
earthly life nor the condition of a mortal body. It is
reserved for thee until the last day, when I shall
present thee glorious to Myself, ' not having spot, or
wrinkle, or any such thing.' Or knowest thou not that
as long as thou livest upon earth in this body thou
art an exile from the light ? Whilst thou art not as yet
wholly beautiful, how canst thou consider thyself cap-
able of contemplating the Sum and Perfection of all
beauty ? Or how canst thou ask to see Me in My
glory before thou hast learned to know thyself ? For
hadst thou a thorough knowledge of thyself, thou
wouldst surely understand that, being weighed down
by a body subject to corruption, thou canst not pos-
sibly lift up thine eyes to fix them on that Brightness
on which the angels desire to look. But the time will
come when I shall appear in My glory, and on that
day thou shalt be wholly beautiful, just as I am wholly
beautiful ; and being thus made like to Me, thou shalt
see Me as I am. Then shalt thou hear it said to thee,
' Thou art all fair, O my beloved, and there is not a
spot in thee.' Meantime, although thou art like to Me
in part, yet, because thou art also in part dissimilar,
thou must be content to know in part. Attend to
thyself, and ' seek not the things that are too high

IGNORANCE OF GOD LEADS TO DESPAIR 451

for thee, and search not into things above thy
ability.' For, if thou know not thyself, 0 beautiful
amongst women — I call thee beautiful, but only amongst
women, that is, in part, ' but when that which is perfect
shall come, that which is in part shall be done away.'

If, then, thou know not thyself " But the words

which follow have been sufficiently expounded and
there is no need to repeat. I had promised to put
some useful considerations before you concerning the
two kinds of ignorance. If you think I have failed to
keep that engagement, I beg you to pardon me, as I
certainly had the good will. " For to will is present
with me, but to accomplish that which is good I find
not." That is to say, unless in so far as it shall be
given to me unto your edification through the gracious
mercy of the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ
Our Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for
ever. Amen.

SERMON XXXIX

On the Chariots of Pharao and the Captains of

his Host.

" To My company of horsemen, in Pharao' s chariots, have I
likened thee, 0 My love."

" To My company of horsemen, in Pharao's chariots,
have I likened thee, O My love." From these words,
my brethren, I gladly infer, in the first place, that the
patriarchs of old were a type of the Church, and had
foreshadowed to them the sacraments of our redemp-
tion. Thus, in the deliverance of Israel from Egypt,
that astounding miracle, whereby the sea rendered
the people of the Lord the double service of afford-
ing them a passage and wreaking vengeance on their
enemies, evidently prefigured the grace of baptism,
by which our souls are saved and our sins sub-
merged. " All," says the Apostle, " were under the
cloud, and all were baptised in the cloud and in
the sea." But in the first place it is necessary, ac-
cording to my custom, to show the sequence of the
words, and the connection between the foregoing and
the following. Then I shall proceed, if I can, to draw
from them some consoling truths which may be useful
for our moral instruction. The Bridegroom, therefore,
after checking the presumption of His Spouse with a
harsh and cutting reproof, lest she should abandon
herself to excessive sadness, now recalls to her mind
some of the favours she has already received, and

452

THE CHARIOTS OF PHARAO 453

promises others not yet enjoyed. He even calls her
" beautiful " and His " love." As if He should say,
" Do not think, O My love, that it is from any feeling
of dislike or ill-will I have spoken to thee with such
severity. For in the gifts with which I have honoured
and adorned thee, thou hast received evident proofs of
My regard. Nor have I now any intention to take them
back, but rather to add other and more precious
favours." Or we may fancy Him speaking thus, " Do
not take it ill, My cherished Spouse, that thou hast
not obtained thy present request, because thou hast
already received many favours of Me and shalt receive
still greater, provided thou continuest faithful in My
love." So much for the verbal sequence.

Now, let us see, my brethren, what are those gifts
referred to by the Bridegroom, as having been be-
stowed by Him upon His Spouse. The first is that He
has likened her to His company of horsemen in the
chariots of Pharao. This He did by delivering her from
the yoke of sin, and destroying in her all " the works
of the flesh," just as the chosen people were set free
from the servitude of Egypt, all Pharao's chariots being
overthrown and submerged. That in truth was the
greatest of mercies. And if, like the Apostle, " I should
have a mind to glory " in it, " I shall not be foolish;
for I will say the truth " — that " unless the Lord had
been my Helper, my soul had almost dwelt in hell."
I am not ungrateful ; I am not unmindful. " The
mercies of the Lord I will sing for ever." So much
have I in common with the Spouse. As for the rest,
she, by an incommunicable privilege, has been raised,
after her deliverance, to the rank and dignity of His
only beloved, and, as the Spouse of the Lord, has been

454 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

adorned with beauty, but for the present only in her
cheeks and neck. Moreover, she has been promised
necklaces for ornaments, and they are to be of gold
to make the gift more precious, and inlaid with silver
to enhance their beauty. Who can help admiring the
wonderful order in which these favours are bestowed ?
First, she is mercifully liberated ; secondly, she is con-
descendingly loved ; thirdly, she is kindly cleansed and
purified ; lastly she receives a promise of the most
magnificent ornaments.

I have no doubt, my brethren, that some amongst
you can already recognise in their own spiritual his-
tories the realities which I am endeavouring to express
in words, and, instructed by their own inner experi-
ence, anticipate in their thoughts the slowness of my
remarks. Nevertheless, remembering what the Psalmist
says, "The declaration of Thy words giveth light, and
giveth understanding to little ones," I think it worth
while, for the sake of these " little ones," to explain what
I have been saying somewhat more fully. " For the
Spirit of wisdom is benevolent," and is pleased with the
benevolent and diligent instructor, who strives his best
to satisfy the educated and intelligent, without neglect-
ing to bend to the capacity of others less gifted.
Again, as you know, Wisdom Itself, says " They that
explain Me shall have life everlasting," and I am un-
willing to lose that reward. And besides, even in
matters that seem to be plain enough, mysteries may
sometimes lie concealed, a more careful discussion of
which will not be without profit even to such as are
endowed with superior intelligence and quickness of
apprehension.

Let us now examine the similitudes of Pharao and

THE CHARIOTS OF PHARAO 455

his host and of the Lord's " company of horsemen."
The comparison is not between the two armies, but
only taken from them. For " what fellowship hath
light with darkness ? Or what part hath the faithful
with the unbeliever ? " But there is an evident analogy
or ground for comparison between a holy and spiritual
soul and the " horsemen " of the Lord, and between
Pharao and Lucifer, and between the host of Egypt
and the host of hell. Nor will you wonder, my brethren,
that one soul is likened to a multitude of horsemen, if
you bear in mind how many battalions of the virtues
may be marshalled in a single soul, provided she -has
real sanctity, what orderly disposition she exhibits in
her affections, what perfect discipline in her morals,
what effective engines of war in her prayers, what
energy in her actions, what power to inspire terror in
her zeal, what constancy in her combats with the
enemy, and, finally, what frequency in the succession
of her triumphs. So, in a following verse, the Spouse,
or the holy soul, is represented to be " terrible as an
army set in array." And again we read, " What shalt
thou see in the Sulamitess but the companies of camps ? "
But if this explanation fails to satisfy you, remember
that the holy soul is never without a bodyguard — so
to speak — of angels, who are jealous of her " with the
jealousy of God," desirous to preserve her for the
Bridegroom and to " present her as a chaste virgin to
Christ." And let no one say in his heart, " Where are
these protecting angels ? Who has ever seen them ? "
For the Prophet Eliseus saw them, and by prayer ob-
tained for his servant Giezi that he, also, should see
them. If, then, you do not see them, it is because you
are neither prophets nor the servants of a prophet.

456 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

They were also seen by the Patriarch Jacob, when he
exclaimed, " These are the camps of God." And by
the Doctor of nations, who said, " Are they not all
ministering spirits, sent to minister for them who shall
receive the inheritance of salvation ? "

Protected, therefore, by angelic ministrations, and
attended wherever she goes by a troop of heavenly
spirits, the holy soul may justly be likened to the
horsemen of the Lord, those, namely, who, of old,
assisted by a stupendous miracle of divine power,
triumphed over the chariots of Pharao. For if you
examine the matter carefully, you will find repeated in
her conflict with the invisible Pharao all the glorious
achievements which rendered the victory of the Red Sea
so illustrious and wonderful. The single difference is
one which makes the soul's triumph only all the more
magnificent, since what the people of God accomplished
in type and material figure has been spiritually fulfilled
in her. Does it not appear to you a more valiant and
glorious feat to vanquish the devil than to overcome
King Pharao, to defeat the powers of the air than to
overthrow the chariots of Egypt ? In the one case the
struggle was with flesh and blood, in the other the
" wrestling " was " against principalities and powers,
against the rulers of the world of this darkness,
against the spirits of wickedness in high places." Let
us together draw out and study the comparison in all its
details. On the one side is the chosen people delivered
from Egypt, on the other a soul rescued from the
world ; there Pharao is defeated, here it is Lucifer ;
there the chariots of the tyrant are overthrown, here
are extinguished earthly and " carnal desires which
war against the soul " ; there the fight is carried on

THE CHARIOTS OF PHARAO 457

amid floods of briny water, here amid floods of bitter
tears. And I can fancy the demons, whenever they
happen upon a faithful soul, crying out like the Egyp-
tians of old, " Let us flee from Israel, for the Lord
fighteth for them against us." Do you wish me now
to designate by their proper names some of the captains
of Pharao's host, and to describe some of the chariots,
so that by adopting the method which I shall employ,
you may be able to find out and identify all the
others for yourselves ? I tell you, then, that one of
the mightiest princes of the spiritual and invisible
Pharao is called Malice, another is named Luxury, and
a third Avarice. These govern their several provinces
with dependence on the king, who defines for each the
limits of his jurisdiction. Thus Malice has dominion
over the whole territory of injury and outrage. Luxury
presides over uncleanness and the sins of the flesh. To
Avarice it has been given to rule the wide areas of
rapine and fraud.

Attend now whilst I explain what manner of chariots
Pharao has furnished his princes with for the pursuit
of the people of God. The chariot of Malice moves
upon four wheels, which are called Cruelty, Impatience,
Audacity, and Impudence. For this chariot is ex-
tremely " swift to shed blood," and is neither stopped
by innocence, nor retarded by patience, nor restrained
by fear, nor held back by shame. It is drawn by two
very mettlesome horses, ever ready to rush forward to
all kinds of destruction and slaughter, and their names
are Earthly Power and Worldly Pomp. For this four-
wheeled car of Malice moves with the greatest
velocity when, on the one hand, it is yoked to power
adequate to the accomplishment of his malevolent

458 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

purposes, and, on the other, has the pomp and glory of
popular favour to applaud his most criminal deeds.
So that we see fulfilled in it the words of the Psalmist,
" For the sinner is praised in the desires of his heart,
and the unjust man is blessed." " And again, another
Scripture sarin," " This is your hour and the power of
darkness." The horses are in charge of two charioteers,
Pride and Envy, the former driving Pomp and the
latter Power. For he who has allowed his heart within
to swell with self-conceit shall soon be carried away
swiftly by the love of satanical pomp. But the man
that is firmly established in himself, who is prudently
self -restrained, gravely modest, solidly humble, chastely
whole, such a man is in no danger of being blown lightly
about by the wind of vanity. In the same way, does
it not seem to you that Envy rides upon the horse of
Power and urges him onwaid by pricking his flanks
with the two spurs of Jealousy, by which I mean the
apprehension of death or decline, and the dread of
deposition ? For the fear of having soon to yield place
to a successor is quite distinct from the fear of an
invading usurper. Such then are the goads wherewith
the horse of Power is driven forward. And that is all
I find to say about the chariot of Malice.

The chariot of Luxury also runs upon four wheels
of subservient vices, namely, Gluttony, Carnal Desire,
Love of Fine Dress, and the Enervation begotten of
languor and sloth. It, too, has its pair of horses to
draw it, which are Prosperity in life and Abundance
of earthly goods. These are driven by the charioteers,
Lazy Languor and False Security ; for abundance is
the ruin of the lazy, and according to Scripture, " The
prosperity of fools shall destroy them," no doubt be-

THE CHARIOTS OF PHARAO 459

cause it renders them falsely secure. " For when they
shall say, peace and security, then shall sudden de-
struction come upon them." The charioteers of Luxury
have neither whips nor spurs, nor anything at all of that
kind ; but they use a kind of parasol * to protect them
from the sun, and a kind of fan for exciting a refreshing
breeze. This parasol is nothing else than Dissimula-
tion, which, in a metaphorical sense, makes a shade for
the mind, and shelters it from the heat of care and
worry. Now, it is characteristic of soft and effeminate
souls to put aside even necessary and urgent cares,
and to conceal themselves in the shadow of Dissimula-
tion, lest they should feel the burning heat of solicitude.
The fan bears the name of Profuse Liberality, and the
wind that they produce is the balmy breeze of Adula-
tion. For sensual souls affect prodigality, desirous to
purchase for gold the light wind produced by the lips
of flatterers. So much for the chariot of Lust.

Prince Avarice, similarly, has four wheels to his car.
They are the vices of Pusillanimity, Inhumanity, Con-
tempt of God, and Forgetfulness of Death. The horses
that draw him are Obstinacy and Rapacity ; and the
two are managed by one driver, who is called Greed of
Gain. For Avarice is singular in this, that he is con-
tent with one servant, his niggardliness not suffering
him to employ any more. But his single driver dis-
plays admirable promptitude and tireless zeal in the
execution of every order, using the rousing whips of
Passion for Acquiring and Fear of Losing to stimulate
the horses that draw him.

* Conopeum — Ka>v<oireLov from Kwvayj/ — a gnat — was the name
given to a fine gauze net used, in Egypt as a protection against
gnats or mosquitos. The English word, canopy, is evidently
derived from it. — (Translator.)

460 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Besides those I have mentioned, there are many
other princes under the king of Egypt, who have like-
wise their own chariot s for the service of their master. For
instance, there is Pride, who is one of his greatest cap-
tains, and Impiety, the enemy of the true faith, who
holds high rank in Pharao's palace and kingdom ; whilst
of nobles and knights of inferior degree the army of
Egypt contains a countless multitude, whose names
and offices and arm? and equipments I leave you to
discover for yourselves by your own meditations, for
it will furnish profitable employment for your minds.
It is therefore in the strength of these captains and their
chariots that the invisible Pharao, like a cruel tyrant,
vents his fury on the servants of the Lord, to the utmost
of his power, rushing wilh rage upon them from every
direction, and, even in our own day, is still pursuing the
Israelites as they try to escape out of Egypt. The
chosen people, on the other hand, have neither chariots
in which to ride, nor arms wherewith to defend them-
selves ; nevertheless, with no other protection but the
Hand of the Lord, they can exclaim with confidence,
" Let us sing to the Lord, for He is gloriously magni-
fied, and horse and rider He hath thrown into the sea."
And, " Some trust in chariots and some in horses ;
but we will call upon the name of the Lord our God."
But perhaps I have now said enough on the com-
parison drawn from the horsemen of the Lord and the
chariots of Pharao.*

* It is not impossible that the author of Pilgrim's Progress
was indebted to this fine allegory for some suggestions in the
composition of his masterpiece. Dr. Stebbing, in a note to
his edition of Bunyan, admits that honest John was by no means
as original as people generally suppose, and actually modelled
his best-known work on a translation of a French production,

THE CHARIOTS OF PHARAO 461

After using this similitude, the Bridegroom addresses
the Spouse as His "love." He indeed was her Lover,
even before her deliverance from the bondage of sin ; for
had He not loved her He certainly would not have set
her free. But it was in consequence of the benefit of
emancipation that she became His love, that is to
say, filled with His love. Listen to herself bearing
testimony to this truth, " not as though we had loved
God, but because He hath first loved us." I now
ask you, my brethren, to recall to mind the marriage
of Moses to the daughter of the Madianite Raguel, and
to recognise in that a foreshadowing of the spiritual
union of Christ and the penitent soul. I also ask you
to say, if you can, what it is you find most pleasant and
consoling in your meditations on that sweetest of mys-
teries, whether the gracious condescension of the Word,
or the inconceivable exaltation of the soul, or finally,
the amazing confidence of the sinner. Moses was unable
to render fair Sephoia's swarthy complexion. But
what he could not do for the Madianitess, Christ can
and does accomplish for the soul He espouses. Hence
we read in the following verse, " Thy cheeks are beau-
tiful ar the turtle dove's." But I reserve this for another
sermon, so that we may always partake with eager
appetites of the good things set before us on the Bride-
groom's table, and then pour out our souls unto the
praise and glory of Jesus Christ, Our Lord, Who is
over all things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

entitled Les trois Ptterinages. Now, the author of this book
was a Cistercian monk, one Guillaume de Guiileville, who died
in 1360, in the abbey of Chalis. He must therefore have been
familiar with the writings of his great Patron, and doubtless
derived therefrom his inspiration. — (Translator.)

SERMON XL

On the Cheeks of the Spouse and what constitutes

their Beauty.

" Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's."

The Spouse, my brethren, is extremely bashful and
sensitive. Hence, as it appears to me, she must have
blushed scarlet at the sharp reproof of her Beloved,
and, looking more lovely than ever in her embarrass-
ment, merited to hear from Him, immediately, the
eulogium, '* Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle
dove's." But you must not take these words in a
materialistic sense, as if there were question here of
the visible blush on mortal flesh, arising from the even
diffusion of a corruptible fluid, ruddy or crimson, close
beneath the superficies of a pale and transparent skin ;
for it is the mixing and combining of these colours in
due proportion that produce the red-and-white com-
plexion which adorns the face with physical beauty.
The soul is an immaterial and invisible substance, pos-
sessing neither distinction of bodily members, nor
capacity for the ornamentation of sensible colours.
Try, then, as best you can, to conceive a spiritual
essence in a spiritual way ; and, to preserve the aptness
of the similitude proposed, understand the face of the
soul to be the intention of the mind. For it is from
the intention that we estimate the merit of a work,
just as the beauty of the body is judged from the face.

Consider, moreover, that the blush which suffuses the

462

THE CHEEKS OF THE SPOUSE 463

soul's face is nothing else than her modesty, which is
compared to a blush, because it, in an especial way,
enhances her beauty and increases her grace. There-
fore is it said to her, " Thy cheeks are beautiful as the
turtle dove's." It would indeed be more in conformity
with usage to speak of the face and to describe it as
beautiful ; for, according to custom, whenever we wish
to praise anyone on account of her beauty, we say,
"she has a lovely" or "a beautiful face." But, al-
though I am not sure what it is, I nevertheless feel
quite certain that the Bridegroom has something very
particular in view in preferring to mention the cheeks.
For we must remember that He Who speaks is the
Spirit of Wisdom, and it would be impious to suppose
that He could use words without significance, or other-
wise than they ought to be used. Therefore, whatever
it is, a reason there certainly must be why He chooses
to refer to the cheeks in the plural, rather than to the
face in the singular. And, if you can suggest nothing
more plausible, I will offer for your consideration the
explanation which occurs to me.

There are two things, my brethren, necessarily im-
plied in every act of intention (which, as I have said,
is the face of the soul) and these are the object and the
motive, that is to say, what you intend and the reason
that determines you. Now it is according to these two
elements that the beauty or deformity of the soul is
estimated ; so that a soul wherein both are pure and
righteous is judged to be beautiful and deserves to have
applied to her the words, " Thy cheeks are beautiful as
the turtle dove's." But should she be found defective in
one or other, then it would be no longer true to say to
her, " Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's,"

464 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

because of the partial deformity which she exhibits.
Much less can this eulogium be applied to the soul
which has neither a good object nor a good motive in
her intentions. All this will appear more evident from
examples. If a person, for instance, gives up his mind
to the investigation of truth, and that purely from the
love of truth, does it not seem to you that in his case
both the object and the motive are equally excellent
and that he has every right to apply to himself the
Words of the Bridegroom, " Thy cheeks are beautiful
as the turtle dove's " ? For in neither of the cheeks
of the soul that is such, does there appear any spot or
speck of evil. But were a soul to apply herself to the
quest after truth, not for the sake of truth, but from
the desire of vainglory, or with a view to some tem-
poral advantage, although one of her cheeks, viz., the
object of her intention, appears vested with beauty, yet
because the other has been denied by the baseness of
the motive, I have no doubt you would pronounce her
at least partially deformed. And if you were to see
another soul devoting her energies to no honourable
object, but sunk in sensuality, given up completely to
the pleasures of the table and the delights of the flesh,
as being one of those " whose God is their belly, and
whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things,"
what would be your verdict on her ? Would you not
declare her to be repulsive in both cheeks, as having
at once a bad motive and a bad object in her intention ?
It is, consequently, a mark of a worldly soul, both
of whose cheeks are devoid of beauty, to make the world
rather than God the object of her intention. The hypo-
critical soul, on the contrary, is characterised by the
fact that she does indeed, at least in some sense, direct

THE CHEEKS OF THE SPOUSE 465

her intention towards God, yet not for the sake of
God. And although this divine regard, such as it is,
seems to beautify one of her cheeks, the insincerity of
her piety destroys all her attractions and spreads the
deformity of ugliness over her whole face. Again,
to turn to God either solely or principally for
the sake of the necessaries of this present life,
renders the soul — I will not say defiled with the filth
of hypocrisy, but deficient in the brightness of purity —
the effect of pusillanimity — and consequently less ac-
ceptable. On the other hand, to aim at something
other than God, yet on account of God, is not indeed
the peaceful repose of Mary, but rather the busy soli-
citude of Martha. But God forbid that I should assert
the existence of any deformity in such a soul. Yet
neither would I affirm that she has attained to the
perfection of spiritual beauty, because she is still
" careful and troubled about many things," and cannot
but be sprinkled, however slightly, with the dust of
earthly occupations.* However, such inconsiderable
stains will be easily and quickly removed, at least in
the hour of a holy death, by the merit of a pure in-
tention and the testimony of a good conscience towards
God. Therefore, she alone, whose intention is directed
to God for His own sake, exhibits absolute beauty in
both cheeks. And this is proper and special to the
Spouse, who by reason of her singular prerogative,
deserves to be saluted by her Bridegroom with the
words, "Thy cheeks are beautiful as the turtle dove's."

* " Et non potest terrenorum actuum vel tenui pulvere non
respergi," with which compare the words of St. Leo the Great
in his fourth Lenten sermon : " Dum per varias actiones vitae
hujus sollicitudo distenditur, necesse est de mundano pulvere
etiam religiosa corda sordescere." — (Translator.)

I. 2 g

466 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

But why is she compared to the turtle dove ? No
doubt, because this bird is remarkable for shyness, does
not consort with many, and is said to be content with
the company of a single mate ; and if she should lose
him, she seeks no other, but leads thereafter a solitary
life. Do you, therefore, my brethren, who are listen-
ing to me, lest you should hear to no purpose what
has been written for your good, and is now for your
good being examined and discussed — do you, I say,
moved by these exhortations of the Holy Spirit, and
animated with an ardent desire to discover how you
may make your souls the spouses of Christ, study to
beautify the two cheeks of your intention, that, after
the example of the turtle dove, the most modest of
birds, you may sit solitary, as the Prophet Jeremias
says, because you have raised yourselves above your-
selves. For surely it is to be raised above yourselves
to be espoused to the Lord of angels. Are you not
raised above yourselves when you cleave to God and
are made one Spirit with Him ? Sit solitary, then,
like the turtle dove. Have nothing to do with the
throng, nothing in common with the multitude of
men. O holy soul, even " forget thy people and thy
father's house, and the King shall greatly desire thy
beauty." Remain alone, and amongst all preserve
thyself for Him alone, Who has chosen thee from
amongst all. Shun the public view ; shun even the
members of thine own household ; withdraw from the
company of friends and familiars, even from him who
ministers to thy necessities. Knowest thou not that
thy Beloved is of a shy disposition, and will not lend
thee His presence in the presence of others ? Seek
solitude, therefore, not of the body, but of the mind

THE CHEEKS OF THE SPOUSE 467

and of the spirit, solitude in intention and in devotion.
For " a Spirit before thy face is Christ the Lord," and
what He requires of thee is not a physical but a spiri-
tual isolation. Nevertheless, thou wouldst do well to
withdraw thyself in body as well from time to time,
according to thy opportunity, and especially at the
hour of prayer. Thou hast for this also both the pre-
cept and the example of thy Beloved. " But thou,"
He says, " when thou shalt pray, enter thy chamber,
and having shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret."
And what He preached to others, He practised Himself.
He used to pass the night alone in prayer, separating
Himself not only from the crowds, but also from every
one of His disciples, not even excepting His most
familiar friends. When of His own accord He was
hastening to meet death, He took with Him the three
apostles with whom He was most intimate. But He
retired even from their company when He wished to
pray. Therefore, do thou act similarly when thou
wouldst give thyself to the exercise of prayer.

For the rest, nothing more is enjoined you, my
brethren, but the solitude of mind and of spirit. You
are alone in this way, when you exclude the thought of
common things, and all attachment to present things ;
when you contemn what the many admire, and count
as nothing what they eagerly covet ; when you avoid dis-
putes, make light of temporal losses and forget injuries.
Otherwise, you will not be really alone, even when you
have no visible company. Or do you not understand
that one can be alone although surrounded by a multi-
tude and, contrariwise, one can be in the company of
many when exteriorly alone ? You are alone, my
brethren, no matter what number are with you, pro-

468 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

vided you are careful neither to inquire too curiously
into the conduct of your neighbour, nor rashly to sit
in judgment upon his doings. And if you happen to
discover some fault in him, even so, beware of con-
demning, but rather excuse. At least excuse the in-
tention, if you cannot excuse the act. Believe that
what appears blameworthy is due to ignorance, or to
surprise, or to mere accident. But if the guilt is so
manifest that you cannot shut your eyes to it, still
do your best to extenuate what you are unable to
excuse, and say to yourselves, " The temptation no doubt
was exceedingly strong. What would have become of
me were I subjected to a similar trial ? " And remem-
ber that it is to the Spouse I have been speaking thus,
not to the friend of the Bridegroom.* For the latter
has the special duty of keeping diligent watch to prevent
sin on the part of his charge, of examining whether
sin has been committed, and, if so, of administering due
correction. But the Spouse is under no such obli-
gation and lives to herself alone and to Him Whom she
loves, her Bridegroom and her Lord, Who is over all
things, God blessed for ever. Amen.

* By the friend of the Bridegroom the Saint evidently means
a religious Superior, who is responsible for the conduct of those
committed to his care. — (Translator.)

SERMON XLI

On what is meant by the Neck of the Spouse and
by the Chains of Gold promised Her.

" Thy neck (is) as jewels ; we will make thee chains of gold inlaid

with silver."

" Thy neck (is) as jewels." It is more usual, my
brethren, for the neck to be adorned with jewels than
to be compared to them. But the reason why people
wear necklaces of jewels is because, having no beauty
of their own, they are obliged to borrow from outer
objects wherewith to simulate what nature denied them.
Such is not the case with the Spouse of Christ. Her
neck is in itself so beautiful and so perfectly formed
by nature that it has no need of artificial embellish-
ments. For why should that be decorated with the
mendacious splendour of foreign hues, which possesses
in itself a sufficiency of native and intrinsic loveliness,
so much, in fact, as to rival the beauty of whatever
jewels might be used to adorn it ? This is what the
Bridegroom gives us to understand when He says,
not " Thy neck is encircled with jewels," but " Thy
neck is as jewels " Here we must implore the light
of the Holy Spirit, that, as He enabled us to discover
the spiritual cheeks of the Spouse, He would also deign
to show us what is to be understood by her spiritual
neck. As for me, who am under obligation to tell you

what I think, the most probable and satisfactory ex-

469

470 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

planation I have been so far able to find is to suppose
that by the name of neck is here designated the in-
tellect of the soul. And I venture to think you will
agree with me in this view, when you examine the
reason of the comparison. For do you not perceive
that the intellect discharges for the soul functions ana-
logous to those which the neck performs for the body,
since it is through the intellect that all spiritual food
passes into the soul, and is conveyed to the digestive
organs of the will and the affections ? The neck of
the Spouse, therefore, understood in this sense, that is,
the pure intellect, has no need of any borrowed em-
bellishments, being sufficiently adorned with its simple
and naked truth. Rather it is itself the beauty of
the soul, as a most precious ornament, and for this
reason it is likened to jewels. For truth is a priceless
jewel ; and so are purity and simplicity ; and so is the
wisdom that is " unto sobriety." | But the intellect of
philosophers and heretics possesses in itself none of
the splendours of purity and truth, and hence they are
at such pains to deck it out and to set it off with the
trumpery of grand words and syllogistic sophistry, lest,
by showing itself as it really is, the turpitude of its
falsity should be also made manifest.!

It is added, " We will make thee chains of gold,
inlaid with silver." If it were said in the singular,
" I will make," and not in the plural, " we will make,"
I should pronounce absolutely and unhesitatingly that
the Bridegroom is the speaker here also. But consider
now whether these words would not be better and more
fittingly attributed to His companions, who are, as it
were, trying to console the Spouse with a promise that,
as she cannot yet attain to the vision of Him for Whose

THE NECK OF THE SPOUSE 47*

presence she pines, they will make for her beautiful
and costly chains, as ornaments for her ears. The
reason why she is especially promised ear-pendants is,
as I think, because " faith cometh by hearing." It also
reminds us that as long as we walk by faith and not
by sight, it is more important and necessary to ex-
ercise the ear in listening to instruction than the eye
in contemplation. For it is useless to strain the sight
if the heart be not purified by faith, since it is only to
the clean of heart that the vision of God is promised.
Hence it is written " purifying their hearts by faith."
Therefore, inasmuch as "faith cometh by hearing,"
and by faith the purification of the sight, rightly do
the companions of the Bridegroom apply themselves par-
ticularly to the task of adorning the ears of the Spouse.
For reason itself teaches us that hearing is a prepara-
tion for vision. " Thou, O Spouse of Christ," we may
fancy them saying, " art longing impatiently to con-
template thy Beloved in His glory. But this happiness
is reserved for the other life. Meantime we will present
thee with ornaments for thine ears, which shall be a
consolation to thee whilst thou art waiting, and a pre-
paration for the favour thou hast solicited." Or they
may be supposed to address her in the words of the
Psalmist, " ' Hearken, O daughter, and see.' Thou dost
desire to see, but first it is necessary to hearken. Hear-
ing is the way to sight. Hearken, then, ' and incline
thine ear,' for the ornaments which we make for thee,
that through the obedience of faith thou may attain
to the glory of vision. To thy hearing we will ' give
joy and gladness.' But to grant thee the satisfaction
of sight, wherein consist the perfection of happiness
and the fulfilment of thy desires, belongs not to us, but

472 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to Him Whom thy soul loveth. He will show Himself
to thee that thy joy may be full. He ' will fill thee
with joy with His Countenance.' But in the mean-
time, until thou attain to these ' delights at His Right
Hand even to the end,' receive for thy consolation
these ornaments from our hands."

We must now consider, my brethren, what kind are
the chains they offer her. " Chains of gold," we read,
'' inlaid with silver." By gold we are to understand the
brightness of the Divinity and also the " wisdom which
is from above." It is therefore of such immaterial gold
that the heavenly artificers, who are charged with this
ministry, promise to make for the Spouse resplendent
seals, as it were, of truth, and to fit them on the in-
ternal ears of her soul. This, as I take it, means
nothing else than that they purpose to devise certain
spiritual representations, by means of which they will
present to the view of the soul, whilst she is engaged
in contemplation, the purest images of the Divine
Wisdom ; in order that she may be able to see, at least
"through a glass in a dark manner," Him Whom it
is not yet given her to behold face to face. These
things, which I speak of, are altogether divine, and
absolutely unintelligible except to those who have ex-
perienced them. For without the experience it is
impossible to understand how it is that, whilst we are
still in this body of corruption and walking by faith, with
the glory of the Divinity still veiled from our view, the
contemplation of pure truth nevertheless presumes to
exercise its functions, at least in part and occasionally ;
so that each of us, on whom God has bestowed this
extraordinary favour, may boldly say with the Apostle,
" Now I know in part," and " We know in part and we

THE NECK OF THE SPOUSE 473

prophesy in part." But whenever the soul transported
o7of hersetf, is thus granted a elearer vision* of h
Divine Majesty, yet only for a moment and with the
velocity, so to speak, of the lightning flash ther ^are
suddenly presented to her imagination, from what
.el .mow not, certain images of fctoor *g£
which admirably help and harmonise with the higher

* Of the same fV^jg^^^SK
"Whilst the soul is m this ecstasj °«r mysteries and

discovering to her seere^s such a h^venly .1 y^ ^

imaginary visions. . . . Though | tne y oi

describing them, they are deeply >mP»°te<1 d ravishes the
the soul and are never forgotten . I think God
soul completely into Himself as His ver> own
and shows her some smal part o the ^om^ some rf ^
St. John of the Cross B»"J ^ soul) so that

many veils and coverings that are before h J ^^

she -^.s!? ;'^sHaereISnot rawn back-that of faith re-
because all the veils are n g through and

because she is solely occupied in losing God, Who 1 ^in y

present to her ^"£^£^%££Ll.. it
Foligno : ^hen tte M^ .E^h^ she seeth Him within her,

see God. God manuestb run duration of this

represents Him^erfecUy. As to^d ^

^:Dk^roeng ifmay have been .during which tt. facu, £
of the soul are entranced, is very short U hall an n.o
01 xne su m -vTarv Magdalen de Pazzi, liKe at.

would be a long time. st. lvidry m% M

• j +t,o+ ^r>mr>pllpd mv admiration, 1 saw xnereuy m
majesty that J^P^?/11^^" Similarly, St. Gregory
immensity of the Divine essence. j Prayer,

and other mystical writers.-See Poulain, Graces oj rray ,
pp. 266-282 —(Translator.)

474 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

impression of the Divinity. These imaginative repre-
sentations are intended, no doubt, both to temper the
excessive splendour of the Light Uncreated and to
facilitate its communication ; for they intercept that
most pure and dazzling ray of Divine Truth, like clouds
before the face of the sun, render it more tolerable to
the soul, and more capable of being transmitted to
whomsoever we please. In my opinion, they are formed
m our minds by the inspirations of holy angels, just as
evil imaginations are unquestionably suggested by the
wicked spirits.

And perhaps we have here that darksome mirror
through which, as you have read, the Apostle gazed, and
which is fashioned, so it seems, by angelic hands out
of such pure and beautiful images. Thus we may
ascribe to God that representation of spiritual truth
which in itself is quite distinct from any phantasy of
corporeal properties, whilst we attribute to the ministry
of angels all the splendid imagery with which it ap-
pears surrounded and clothed. In a different reading
of the same text this seems to be more clearly indicated.
According to that version the companions of the Bride-
groom say, " We, the artificers, will make for thee
images of gold, with distinctions or ornaments of
silver." * The phrases, " inlaid with silver " and " with
ornaments of silver » do not differ in meaning. To
my mind this appears to signify that not only do the
holy angels form within us, by suggestion, the imagi-
native representations referred to, but they even
supply us with suitable words to express what they
have enabled us to conceive ; so that our ideas, dressed

* • Ouoiupara xpWriw VOuf<rotfv <roi fierh o-tiWtw tov
apyvptov. ai n m the Septuagint Version. - (Translator.)

THE NECK OF THE SPOUSE 475

out in apt and *»°^ *%£'£'£ p^Te".
hended by our hearers ^f^J^^Ji, there
But you may ob]ect and ^ t0 ™; 7>> WeU, the
in common between *lver a^.^f. The of

Psalmist shall give you the answer l
the Lord," he says, - are pure ^T^'SStl
the fire." It is in this sense then that ^ he

ing spires of 2«3* ^2Sift silver"

TutTe^e my breS;::,°ho&w the Spouse asks one

But observe, my the se

thing and obtains another. She longs ^

°V°ntemtrof'pren oh ng si Thirsts for her Bride-

5 bringing forth and nourishing «^' £,
is this the only occa^n she ha been so ^ ^

before, as I recollect, she met w

She was sighing for the embraces and the ^ses

j w rweived the answer, hor tny uica.
Beloved, but received tn reminded of

are better than wine, by -J* her little

her motherhood, and of the QUty wiU dis.

„ -,.,,1 fnsterine her children. remaps you
•r to v«TSv«. f»..h=t inrt.nc in other vera*

°Vo „ no. f»« th« — • ^^Tl^^ <-

476 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

"chains of gold, inlaid with silver," that is, wisdom
and eloquence, doubtless for the office of preaching

We learn from this, my brethren, that the kisses of
divine contemplation must be often interrupted for the
purpose of giving suck to the little ones, and that no
one ought to live for himself alone, but all for all. Woe
to those who have received the capacity for conceiving
worthy sentiments of God and fittingly expressing them,
it they look upon religion as a source of gain, if they
make subservient to vainglory the talents entrusted to
them to be employed in the service of their Master,
if they are high-minded and unwilling to condescend
to the humble ! Let them fear lest what the Lord
says by ^ mouth o{ the prophet ^ ^^

to themselves, " I gave them My gold and My silver ;
but they have used My gold and My silver in the ser-
vice of Baal." * Listen now to the answer which the
Spouse makes on receiving thus a reproof from her
bridegroom and a promise from His companions. She
is neither angered by the one nor elated by the other
but behaves in accordance with what is written " Re-
buke a wise man and he will love thee," and, with
reference to gifts and promises, " The greater thou art,
the more humble thyself in all things." That she regu-
lated her conduct by these counsels will appear from
her reply. But, with your leave, I shall make that the
text of another sermon. Meantime, let what has been
said excite us to glorify the Bridegroom of the Church
Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who is over all things, God
blessed for ever. Amen.

aJentfmeott d^r meUm et ^^^ meum- SPsi ante» *»
argento meo et de auro meo operati sunt Baal." This is either

taken from some unknown version, or quoted incorrectly £,"

text most hke ,t m the Vulgate is Osee ii. 8 : " Argentam muHi-

piicav, e. et aurum, quae fecerunt BaaI."-(Tran!atoT

SERMON XLII

On Submission to Correction, and the two Kinds

of Humility.

ni wv<c vp-bose my spikenard sent forth the
«' While the King was at His repose, my y

odours thereof.

« While the King was at His repose, my spikenard
sent forth the odour thereof." These, my brethren
are ae words of the Spouse, the discussion of which
I "oSoned until to-day. This is the ™>«*££
when rebuked by her Bridegroom. Yet rt « addled,
not to Him, but to His companions, as you may clearly
s« from the words themselves. For she does not say,
sneatog in the second person, "While Thou, O King
S a^Thy repose"; but, "^^^

thtt^Brlde^oJ, after reprimanding and > humbling

the Spouse, as we have seen ^^*«'*™£
confusion from the blush which mantled her ^ cheeks
withdrew from the company, in order o give ^her ^an
opportunity of speaking her mmd freely in His absence
and, in cal she should pass from excessive boMnes
to excessive timidity and depression of mind as com
monly happens, that she might receive consolation and
moiuv iff > rharitv of His companions,

encouragement from the chanty 01 *

Yet He did not neglect to comfort her HimseU as far
as He judged it necessary at the time. For to make
it manuJ f how pleasing she was to Him, even wh-lst

All

478 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

He corrected her, inasmuch as she bore that correction
patiently and in the proper spirit, He could not leave
her until He broke forth in praise of her-out of the
abundant love, no doubt, with which His Heart was
nlled-and spoke in admiration of her beautiful cheeks
and neck. Therefore, His companions also, who have
renamed with her, address her in words of gracious
kindness and offer her presents, knowing this to be the
will of then Lord. Hence, it is to them that she directs
her answer. Such, I think, is the literal sense and the
sequence of our present text.

But before proceeding to extract the kernel of spiri-
tual truth from this shell of literal meaning, I wish to
make one brief remark. Happy the superior whose repri-
mands are received in that spirit of humble submission
of which we have here so perfect a model ! Would to
God there was no necessity for reprimands at all | That
would be better still. But since " in many things we
all offend, ,t ,s not permitted me to keep silence
having an obligation in virtue of my office, and a still
more urgent impulse from fraternal charity, to reprove
transgressors. But if I administer a reproof and so do
my part, and if that reproof, proceeding from me, in-
stead of accomplishing its purpose, and correcting the
fault to which it was applied, should return to me empty
like a dart which impinges on a hard substance and
rebounds, what think you, my brethren, shall be then
my feelings ? Shall I not be filled with grief and an-
guish i And to borrow something from the words of
my master, St. Paul, since my own wisdom suffices me
not, I am straitened between two and what I shall
choose I know not," whether to approve of my action
in making the correction, as being only what I was

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 479

bound to do ; or to repent of it, because it has not suc-
ceeded according to my desires and expectations. It
was my design to slay an enemy and to deliver a brother.
But so far from accomplishing this, my zeal has pro-
duced just the contrary effect. For it has wounded my
brother's soul and increased his guilt by adding con-
tempt of authority to his original fault. "The house
of Israel," says the Lord through His Prophet Ezechiel,
" will not hearken to thee because they will not hearken
to Me." See now, my brother, what is the Majesty
which thou hast treated with contempt. Do not
imagine thou art despising only me. The Lord has
spoken it, and what He said to Israel by His Prophet,
He repeated with His own Lips to His apostles, in the
words, " He that despiseth you despiseth Me." I am
not indeed a prophet, nor am I an apostle. Neverthe-
less, I dare to say it, I hold the office and discharge the
duties of both a prophet and an apostle. I am bur-
dened with the cares and responsibilities of those who
are far beyond me by the merit of their lives. Al-
though it be to my own great confusion, although it
be to my own awful danger, although I cannot pretend
to rival the Lawgiver's virtue or to equal him in grace,
still I sit on the chair of Moses. What then ? Is that
chair less deserving of respect and submission because
it is occupied by one unworthy ? Surely not. Even
if it were Scribes and Pharisees that sat on it we have
still the command of Christ: "What they say, do ye."
As a rule, in such cases, impatience is added to
contempt. Not only does the person reprimanded
refuse to coirect his fault, but he even manifests anger
against the superior who has reproved him, like the
frenzied patient who repels the hand of the physician.

480 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

Strange perversity ! He is angry with the friend who
comes to heal, but shows no indignation with the enemy
who has hurt him ! For there is an enemy who with his
arrows " shoots in the dark the upright of heart," and
it is he who has now wounded thee even unto death.
Dost thou feel no resentment against him ? And art
thou enraged against me, whose only desire is to make
thee whole ? " Be angry," says the Psalmist, " and
sin not." If thy anger be directed against thy sin,
not only dost thou not sin anew, but thy previous sin
is blotted out. But now thou refusest the remedy and
thy sin remains. Yes, thou addest sin to sin by giving
way to unreasonable anger, and that is a sin of exceeding
malice.

Sometimes this anger is accompanied with impudence.
The person who is reproved, not satisfied with showing
resentment against his superior, goes so far as to defend
impudently the fault for which he has been corrected.
The man who acts thus has evidently become reckless
and lost to shame. It is of such that the Lord said
by the Prophet Jeremias, " Thou hadst a harlot's fore-
head, thou wouldst not blush," and by Ezechiel, " My
jealousy shall depart from thee, and I will cease and be
angry no more." The very sound of these words makes
me tremble. Do you not perceive from them, my
brethren, how dangerous, how horrible, how dreadful
a thing it is to attempt to justify one's own sin ? In
another place He says, " Such as I love, I rebuke and
chastise." Therefore, if the jealousy and anger of God
have abandoned thee, so has His love. One who is
deemed unworthy of His chastisement, will certainly
be considered undeserving of His love. " Let us have
pity on the wicked," He says, " but he will not learn

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 481

to do justice." Far from me be such pity ! Such
pity is more to be dreaded than the fiercest anger,
since it blocks up against the sinner the path to justi-
fication. It were much better, according to the advice
of the Psalmist, to " embrace discipline, lest at any
time the Lord be angry, and you perish from the just
way." I pray thee, O Father of mercies, to exercise
Thy anger against me, only let it be the anger wherewith
Thou dost correct the sinner, not that by which Thou
shuttest him out eternally from the way of justice.* The
first kind of anger visits us in love, of which it is the off-
spring J but the second is fostered and concealed under
a dissimulation that should inspire us with terror. It
is not, therefore, when I do not feel Thy wrath, but
when I groan beneath its weight, that I ought to be
most confident of Thy favour ; for " when Thou art
angry Thou wilt remember mercy." " Thou wast a
merciful God to them," said the Psalmist, " and taking
vengeance on all their inventions." He is speaking of
Moses, and Aaron, and Samuel, whose names he had
just mentioned. And notice how he calls it a mercy
that God did not spare them for their transgressions.
And wilt thou, my brother, put away from thee for
ever this mercy, by attempting to justify thy sin and
resenting correction ? Is not that the same as calling
evil good and good evil ? Will not this detestable
impudence gradually lead to impenitence, the mother
of despair ? For how can one repent of that which
he believes to be good ? The Prophet denounces woe
against them who thus confound good with evil. And
that woe is eternal. There is a great difference between

* This sounds like an echo of St. Augustine's celebrated petition,
" Hie caedo, hie ure, ut in aeternum parcas." — (Translator.)

I. 2 H

482 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

him who is " tempted by his own concupiscence, being
drawn away and allured," and the man who, of his own
will and choice, pursues evil as good, and in a state of
fatal security, hastens to death as if he were going to
life. In the case of persons of the latter class, I confess
that I sometimes could have wished I had dissembled
and kept silence about the faults I observed them com-
mitting, instead of administering correction which they
have made the occasion of such utter ruin.

You will tell me, perhaps, that I have the merit of
ray good action, even though it has failed to benefit
the transgressor ; that by discharging my duty I have
delivered, at least, my own soul from sin ; that " I am
innocent of the blood of this man," whom I have warned
and exhorted, that he might turn aside from his evil
ways and live. But no matter how you multiply such
motives for comfort, I refuse to be consoled whilst I see
my child dying before my very eyes. As if forsooth
I sought my own deliverance in that reprehension and
not rather his ! What mother could restrain her tears
even though conscious that she had spared no pains or
tiouble to save her infant, if, nevertheless, she now sees
herself defeated, and all her efforts unavailing, and the
little one already at the point of death ? And if her
tears are allowed to flow unchecked for the loss of a
temporal life, surely I may give myself up to " lamen-
tation and great mourning " over the eternal death
of a son, even though my conscience can reproach me
with no negligence in his regard. On the other hand,
you see, my brethren, from how much misery that
religious saves both himself and his superior, who,
when reprimanded, answers with meekness, confesses
with humility, submits with patience, and obeys with

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 483

modest simplicity. To one like this, I acknowledge
myself a debtor in everything. I am willing to be the
servant and slave of such a soul, as of my Lord's most
worthy Spouse, who can say with all truth, " While
the King was at His repose, my spikenard sent forth
the odour thereof."

Humility, my brethren, exhales a good odour, which,
ascending up from this valley of tears, spreads itself
around in every direction, and even perfumes the royal
bedchamber with its sweet fragrance. Now, spikenard is
a lowly plant ; moreover, they who make it their business
to study carefully the virtues and properties of herbs,
declare it to be of a warm nature. Therefore it seems
to me that it can be taken here very fittingly as sym-
bolising the virtue of humility, but only that humility
which is heated with the fervour of holy love. The
reason of this distinction is that there is a humility
which truth begets in us, and which is without warmth ;
and a humility which is produced and inflamed by
charity. The former is resident in the intellect ; the
latter has its seat in the affections of the will. Thus,
if a man considers himself interiorly by the light of
truth, without any dissimulation, and pronounces upon
himself an unbiassed judgment, I have no doubt he
will be humbled, even in his own eyes, and lowered in
his own estimation, although he may not yet be willing
to lose the esteem of others. He will consequently
have humility, but so far only as the effect of truth,
not from the infusion of charity. For were he not
merely enlightened by the splendour of that truth which
gives him a real and salutary knowledge of himself,
but also possessed with the love of it, he doubtless
would desire, as far as is proper, that others should
1. 2 H*

484 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

have the same opinion of him which he has himself
and which he knows in his heart to be the truth. I
say advisedly, as far as is proper, because, generally
speaking, it is not expedient that others know as much
about us as we know ourselves. Both the love of
truth and the truth of love forbid us to desire the pub-
lication of facts the knowledge of which would injure
our neighbour. On the other hand, he who, from
purely selfish motives, keeps locked up in his own mind
the verdict of truth upon himself, makes it plain to
all how little he loves the truth, since he is thus ready
to sacrifice it to personal honour or temporal gain.

You observe then, my brethren, that a man may
have a really humble opinion of himself, and yet be
unwilling to " consent to the humble," as the Apostle
says. For these two things are quite distinct ; the
former coming from the light of truth, the latter from
the grace of charity. The former results by necessity,
the latter is the production of free-will. Of the Saviour
we are told that " He emptied Himself, taking the
form of a servant," and giving us the form and pattern
of humility. " He emptied Himself " as " He humbled
Himself," not by any necessity of truth and judgment,
but from charity to us. He had the power to exhibit
Himself as vile and contemptible, but He certainly
could not so repute Himself, since He knew Himself
as He truly was. His humility therefore had its
source in His Will, not in His Intellect. He made
Himself appear other than He recognised Himself to
be, freely choosing to be esteemed the least, whilst
fully conscious that He was the greatest. Then He
tells us, " Learn of Me, because I am meek and humble
of heart." Notice how He says "humble of heart,"

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 485

that is, " humble in the affection of My Heart and by
the choice of My Will." So He denies the necessity
of His humility, by ascribing it to His Will. For in
this He was not like you and me, who find ourselves
in very truth deserving of contempt and dishonour,
worthy of all abasement and subjection, worthy even
of severe chastisement and hard stripes. Yet He sub-
mitted to all these things, " because it was His own
will," and because He was "humble of heart." That
is to say, He was humble with that humility which is
embraced with the heart's affection, not with that
which results of necessity from the knowledge of the
truth.*

It is for this reason, my brethren, I said a while ago
that this kind of voluntary humility is produced in our
souls, not by the constraining evidence of truth, but
rather by the infusion of love, because it belongs to
the heart, to the will, and to the affections. Whether
I am right in assigning it to such a source, I leave it
to you to judge. It is also for you to consider and
decide whether I have correctly attributed the same
kind of humility to the Saviour, Who, as is certain,

* In his treatise De gradibus hiimilitatis, St. Bernard defines
humility as the virtue which gives a man a clear knowledge
and a contempt of his baseness (" virtus qua quis, verissima
sui cognitione, sibi ipse vilescit "). Now, it is clear that such
a virtue, implying imperfection, can have no place in Christ
as He is God. As Man, He could (and therefore did) possess
humility both of intellect and of will, for even though, so re-
garded, He was the noblest of creatures, He was still but a
creature, and as such infinitely inferior to the Creator. But
in comparison with other men — and this is the case our Saint
seems to be considering — Christ could, indeed, and did exercise
humility of the will, by submitting to indignities He did not
deserve, yet He certainly was incapable of intellectual humility,
knowing Himself to be " Lord and Master," and, by natural
right, the Only Sinless. — (Translator.)

486 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

"emptied Himself" through charity ; through charity
made Himself " a little less than the angels"; through
charity was subject to His parents; through charity
stooped to receive baptism at the hands of John ;
through charity submitted to the infirmities of the
flesh ; and finally, it was through charity that He became
obedient unto death, even unto the shameful death of
the cross. Another question awaiting your determina-
tion is whether I am right in supposing that this
humility, all aglow with the fervour of charity, is here
typified by spikenard, an herb whose nature is said to
be as warm as its appearance is contemptible. And if
you agree with me in all these questions (as indeed you
cannot help doing, since you cannot withhold assent
from evidence so clear) then if you feel humbled in your
own consciences with that constrained humility, which
truth, which " searcheth the heart and the reins," pro-
duces in the mind of a reflective soul, exert your wills
and make a virtue of necessity ; because there can be
no virtue without the concurrence of the will. You
will do this by not desiring to appear to others different
from what you appear interiorly to your own hearts.
Otherwise you have good reason to fear lest what you
read in the Psalmist should apply to yourselves : " For
in His sight he hath done deceitfully, that his iniquity
may be found unto hatred," and in Proverbs, " Diverse
weights and diverse measures, both are abominable
before God." For does not he, who wishes to appear
better than he knows himself to be, incur the guilt of
" doing deceitfully " and using " diverse weights and
diverse measures " ? He depreciates himself in the
secret chamber of his own judgment, having weighed
his worth in the scales of truth ; yet exteriorly he pre-

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 487

tends to be of higher value, and sells himself as pos-
sessing greater weight than he finds registered in the
balance of conscience. Fear the All-seeing Judge, my
brethren, and never be guilty of so wicked a crime as
to lift yourselves up with your wills whilst you feel
yourselves being pressed down by truth. For thai:
would be sinning against the light. It would be re-
sisting God. Rather acquiesce in the divine judg-
ment, and subject your wills to reason, and that not
only with docility, but even with devotion. Say to
yourselves with the Psalmist, " Shall not my soul be
subject to God ? "

But it is not enough to be subject to God, unless you
are willing to "be subject to every human creature
for God's sake, whether it be to " the abbot, " as ex-
celling," or to the prior, as appointed by him. I will go
further and exhort you to be subject to your equals, yea,
even to your inferiors ; " for so it becometh us to fulfil
all justice." Do thou, then, my brother , if thou desirest
to be perfect in justice, " with honour prevent " him
that is less, defer to thy inferiors, place thyself beneath
thy juniors. By acting thus, thou also wilt deserve
to say with the Spouse, " My spikenard sent forth the
odour thereof." For thy devotion is a good odour, a good
odour, too, is thy fair fame, which reaches and edifies
all, so that in every place thou art " the good odour
of Christ," regarded by all with love and veneration.
He who is humble, not in the free affection of his will,
but merely as the effect of the compelling power of
truth, cannot exercise the same influence. Such a one
keeps his humility altogether to himself ; he does not
suffer it to escape that it may spread itself abroad and
perfume his surroundings. In fact, it would be better

488 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

to say that humility of this kind has no odour, because
it has no charity or devotion, as being the product of
necessity rather that the result of willing choice. But
the humility of the Spouse (which alone is symbolised
by spikenard) glowing with charity, enlivened with de-
votion, redolent of good fame, scatters its fragrance on
every side. It has the properties of voluntariness,
constancy, and fertility, and its odour can be extin-
guished by neither praise nor blame. The Spouse has
heard from her Bridegroom the eulogy, " Thy cheeks are
beautiful as the turtle dove's " ; she has also received
a promise of ornaments of gold ; and nevertheless she
answers with humility. And the more she is honoured
and praised, the more does she humble herself in all
things. She does not glory in her merits ; nor does
she forget her lowliness whilst she hears herself com-
mended, but rather humbly proclaims it under the
symbol of spikenard. It is indeed as if she spoke
in the words of the Virgin Mary, " I am conscious to
myself of nothing that could deserve so great a con-
descension, beyond the fact that the Lord ' hatri re-
garded the humility of His handmaid.' " For what else
can be the meaning of the words, " my spikenard sent
forth the odour thereof," if not " my humility has
been pleasing to God " ? As if she should say, "It is
not by the merit of wisdom I have won the divine
favour, nor by the nobility of blood, nor yet by beauty
of person, for I make no pretension to such advantages ;
it is simply because my humility, the sole good quality
I can claim to possess, ' sent forth the odour thereof.' "
That is to say, its usual, characteristic odour. For it
is usual with humility to be acceptable to God ; as it
is usual with Him, and, as it were, His custom, to look

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 489

down with favour upon the humble from His " high and
elevated throne." And therefore, " while the King was
at His repose," the odour of humility penetrated even to
His bedchamber. " Who is as the Lord our God," cries
out the Psalmist, " Who dwelleth on high, and looketh
down on the low things in heaven and in earth ? "
Therefore, " while the King was at His repose," the
spikenard of His Spouse gave forth its odour. The
King takes His repose on the Bosom of His Father,
because the Son is always in the Father. And doubt
not, my brethren, that He will show Himself a gracious
Monarch, since He reposes everlastingly on the bed,
so to speak, of the Father's benignity. It is only
natural that the cry of the humble should mount up
to Him Whose home is in the very Well-Spring of
piety, to Whom sweetness is essential, to Whom good-
ness is substantial, or rather, consubstantial, Whose
whole Being is so wholly from the Father, that trembling
humility need suspect in His royal Majesty the presence
of nothing that is not paternal. Besides, we have the
pledge, " By reason of the misery of the needy, and
the groans of the poor, now will I arise, saith the Lord."
The Spouse, consequently, well aware of this promise,
as being one of His household and especially beloved,
has no fears of being excluded from her Bridegroom's
favour on account of her poverty of merit, because she
places all her hope in her humility. But as she is
still mindful of His sharp reproof, she does not now
venture to call Him her Bridegroom or her Beloved,
but less familiarly refers to Him as the King. Never-
theless, whilst she thus acknowledges the immensity of
His elevation above her, her humility preserves its
simple trust.

490 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

This text, which I have been discussing, is particu-
larly applicable to the primitive Church. Call to mind
those days following upon the Ascension of the Lord
to the place which was His from eternity, where He
sits in Majesty at the Father's Right Hand, yet, at the
same time, reposes in tranquillity on that ancient,
noble, most glorious Couch of His Bosom. Call to
mind, I say, those days when the disciples were gathered
together in the upper chamber, " persevering with one
mind in prayer, with the women, and Mary the Mother
of Jesus, and with His brethren." Does it not seem
to you, my brethren, that then especially, the spikenard
of the young and tremulous Spouse " sent forth the
odour thereof " ? And when " suddenly there came a
sound from heaven, as of a mighty wind coming, and
it filled the whole house where they were sitting,"
could not the same Spouse, still tender, weak, and needy,
say with all confidence, " while the King was at His
repose, my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof " ?
It certainly was made clear to all who were present
in that upper chamber, how pleasing and acceptable
was the odour sent up by her humility, from the mul-
titude and magnificence of the gifts wherewith it was
immediately rewarded. Nor did she prove ungrateful
for so great a benefit. For hear how, being instantly
filled with holy love, she prepares to suffer all things
for the sake of her Divine Benefactor. " A bundle of
myrrh is my Beloved to me," she exclaims, " He shall
abide between my breasts."

My weakness, brethren, which you well know, will
not suffer me to proceed. So I shall conclude with
this one remark. The Spouse here declares herself
ready, for the love of her Bridegroom, to endure the

ON SUBMISSION TO CORRECTION 491

bitterness of tribulation, signified by the bundle of
myrrh. The full exposition of this verse you shall
have at another time ; on condition, however, that
by your prayers you obtain for me the light of the
Holy Ghost. For He alone can enable us to under-
stand the words of the Spouse, since it was He Who
inspired them, and made them such as He knew would
most fittingly express the praises of Him Whose Spirit
He is, the Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus Christ Our
Lord, Who is over all things, God blessed for ever.
Amen.

SERMON XLIII
On the Remembrance of Christ's Sufferings.

" A little bundle oj myrrh is my Beloved to me, He shall abide
between my breasts."

11 A little bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to me,
He shall abide between my breasts."* Before she called
Him " the King," here He is her " Beloved " ; then
He took His repose on His own royal Couch of the
Father's Bosom, now He abides between her breasts.
Oh, how great, my brethren, must be this virtue of
humility, seeing that it can so easily attract and draw
down to itself even the Divine Majesty ! How quickly
the name expressive of reverence has been exchanged
for the name inspired by love ! With what celerity has
He drawn nigh, Who a while since was so far remote !
" A little bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to me."
Myrrh, because of its bitterness, is used to denote the
poignancy and painfulness of tribulation. The Spouse,
then, foreseeing that she shall be called upon to suffer
for the sake of her Beloved, speaks these words with a
feeling of joy ; for she hopes to be able, with His help,
to endure every trial with fortitude. Hence we read,

* In the year 1855, when the bones of St. Bernard were
examined, there was found amongst them a wooden tablet,
faced with parchment, whereon were inscribed the words,
" Fasciculus myrrhae dilectus meus mihi, inter ubera mea
commorabitur." The tablet has a hook attached. The natural
inference is that it hung in the Saint's cell, and after his death,
perhaps at his own desire, was laid upon his breast. — (Translator.)

492

ON CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS 493

" They went from the presence of the Council,
rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer
reproach for the name of Jesus." And she calls her
Bridegroom, not a large bundle (jascis) but " a little
bundle " (fasciculus) to signify that she esteems as
light and little all labours and afflictions undergone for
His love. Truly He is but a little bundle, since for
our sakes He was born as a little Child. He is also a
little bundle pressing but lightly upon us, because
"the sufferings of this time," which He requires us to
endure, " are not worthy to be compared with the
glory to come, which shall be revealed in us." And
the Apostle adds, " For that which is at present mo-
mentary and light of our tribulation, worketh for us
above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory."
Consequently, He Who is to us now as a little bundle
of myrrh, on account of the sacrifices demanded by His
service, shall one day become for us an immensity of
glory. How could He be anything but a little bundle,
Whose " yoke is sweet " and " Whose burden is light " ?
Not that His burden is light in itself — for no light
thing is the smarting sense *of suffering, no light thing
is the bitterness of death — but it becomes light to him
who loves. Hence the Spouse does not say absolutely
" a little bundle of myrrh is my Beloved," but " a
little bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to tne" because
her charity made His burden light. Hence also she
calls Him her " Beloved," in order to indicate that the
power of love overcomes the bitterness of all tribulation,
and that " love is strong as death." And to show that
she glories not in herself, but in the Lord, and that
she looks not to her own virtue, but to the help of
God for constancy under trial, she tells us that He

494 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

will abide between her breasts. Therefore, in another
place, she sings to Him with confidence, "Though I
should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I
will fear no evils, for Thou art with me."

In a preceding sermon, as I remember, I interpreted
these breasts to mean, the one (which I named Con-
gratulation) a facility for sympathising with joy, the
other (called Compassion) a readiness to sympathise with
grief, so that the Spouse might appear as fulfilling the
injunction of St. Paul, where he says, " Rejoice with
them that rejoice, weep with them that weep." But
inasmuch as she is placed between the extremes of
prosperity and adversity, and (as she is well aware)
dangers are not wanting on either side, therefore she
desires to have Him also abiding between these breasts
of her, so that, protected against every enemy by His
unceasing help, she may neither be unduly lifted up
by consolation, not too much cast down by affliction.
You, my brethren, if you be wise, will imitate her pru-
dence, and never allow this precious little bundle of
myrrh to be taken from the centre of your hearts, even
for the space of a single hour ; but you will keep con-
stantly before your minds and ponder in assiduous
meditation all that Christ suffered for you, so that,
like the Spouse, you also may be able to say, " A bundle
of myrrh is my Beloved to me, He shall abide between
my breasts."

As for me, my brethren, from the very beginning of
my conversion to God, to make up for all the merits
which I knew myself to lack, I applied myself with
diligence to collect together, and to bind into a bundle,
and to place between my breasts, all the cares and
sorrows which my Lord had to endure ; in the first

ON CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS 495

place the sufferings of His childhood years ; then the
labours He underwent in preaching, the fatigue of His
journey ings, His watchings in prayer, His temptations
and fastings, His tears of compassion, the traps laid
for Kim in His speech ; and finally, His perils from
false brethren, the revilings, the spittings, the blows,
the mockeries, the reproaches, the nails, and all the
other myrrhic plants, which, as you know, are plenti-
fully growing for our healing in the evangelical forest.
But amongst so many twigs of this odoriferous shrub,
I must not omit to mention that other myrrh which
He drank on the cross, and that wherewith He was
embalmed for burial. The first of these signified His
taking upon Himself the bitterness of my sins ; the
second was meant as a pledge of the future resurrection
of my body. As long as I live, I will " publish the
memory of the abundance of (this) sweetness." Thy
mercies, O Lord, " I will never forget, for by them
Thou hast given me life."

These, my brethren, are the tender mercies which
holy David in times past implored with tears. " Let
Thy tender mercies come unto me," he entreats, " and I
shall live." Other saints, also, of the Old Dispensation,
sighed for the same, knowing that the " mercies of the
Lord are many."' How " many kings and prophets have
desired to see and have not seen " the graces bestowed
upon us ! They have laboured and we " have entered
into their labours." I have gathered the myrrh which
they have planted. For me this little bundle has been
reserved. No man shall take it away from me, for
it shall abide between my breasts. I have said to
myself that wisdom consists in meditating on these
sufferings of my Saviour. In them I have placed the

496 ST. BERNARD'S SERMONS

perfection of justice, the fulness of knowledge, the
riches of salvation, the abundance of merits. From
them I sometimes drink a draught of salutary bitter-
ness, and sometimes, again, I extract therefrom the
soothing oil of consolation. It is they that support
me in adversity and sober me in success ; and as I
journey along the royal but rugged heavenward way,
amid the joys and sorrows of this mortal life, it is they
that keep me safe from hurt, defending me against the
enemies that lurk on every side. They unite me in
the bonds of loving friendship to the Eternal Judge of
the universe, by representing to me as meek and humble
Him in Whose presence the very powers of heaven
quake with fear, by showing not only as placable, but
even as imitable, Him Who is inaccessible to the celes-
tial principalities, and " terrible with the kings of the
earth." Therefore, as you yourselves can bear witness,
I have these mysteries of divine suffering often in my
mouth, and God can bear me witness that they never
leave my heart. How redolent of the same are all my
writings, I have no need to mention. And whilst I
live here below my only philosophy shall be "to know
Jesus and Him Crucified, " for that is the most sub-
lime of all. I ask not, like the Spouse, where He lieth
in the mid-day, since I have the happiness of knowing
that He allows me to embrace Him, yea, even abides
between my breasts. Nor need I inquire where He
feedeth at noon, because I behold Him dying on the
cross to save me. More sublime is the privilege soli-
cited by the Spouse, but that bestowed on me has in
it more of sweetness. What she requires is the bread
of the strong, whilst I, as a mother, have obtained, not
bread, but milk, the milk which nourishes the hearts

ON CHRIST'S SUFFERINGS 497

of the little ones, which fills and expands the maternal
breasts. Therefore " He shall abide between my
breasts."

I counsel you, also, my dearest brethren, to collect for
yourselves so sweet a little bundle, to place it in the very
centre of your hearts, and with it to fortify the en-
trance thereof against every hostile incursion. So shall
the Beloved abide between your breasts, as well. Keep
this precious bundle, not behind or upon your backs,
but ever before your eyes ; otherwise, whilst you bear
its burden, you cannot enjoy its fragrance ; you feel
its weight upon you, but derive no support from its
perfume. Remember that the bundle is the Beloved
Himself, Whom Simeon took into his arms, Whom
Mary bore in her womb, nursed on her lap, and placed
as a Biidegroom between her breasts ; and, I may
add, Who came as the Word of the Lord to the
Prophet Zachary and others. We may also believe that
Joseph, Mary's husband, often fondled Him upon his
knee. Consider now that all these kept Him before
them rather than behind. Do you, therefore, follow
their example, and do likewise. For, if you hold before
your eyes Him Whom you carry as a little bundle of
myrrh, you surely will not forget all He suffered for
your sakes ; and the memory of that will make your
own burdens lighter, through the grace of Him, the
Bridegroom of the Church, Who is over all things,
God blessed for ever. Amen.

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