19. To Fulk, Bishop

Brother Anselm to his dearest, much-loved friend, Fulk, bishop: mayest thou enjoy the perpetual protection and consolation of God.

I know, dear friend mine, how your loving heart must be saddened by the unlooked-for loss of the bodily presence of him whom it loves above all others, did it not wisely comfort itself with the consideration of the divine ordering of things. For as in the hearts of those who are mutually attached to each other the hope and opportunity of enjoying each other's company nourishes a certain enjoyable serenity, so does the despair of the same thing engender a grievous bitterness. My know ledge of this fact your wisdom may be aware of. For I so well know the sincerity of your love towards me, that I am sure you are not ignorant of the truth of my love for you and for those to whom I have expressed it, and most of all for the monks of Bec. For none so truly understands the real attitude of a soul as he who feels for it a true friendship. Consider, therefore; what genuine gladness can there be in my heart, which is saddened by the irreparable loss in this life of the bodily presence of so many friends longing for me and longed for by me? Each one of these grieves for the loss of my companionship in the body, and my spirit grieves for all, since it is unwillingly and so unexpectedly separated from the presence of them all. For although I may seem to be gladdened by a greater number who show like attachment to me in England, this can in nowise root out of my heart the former love planted so long ago and cherished for so long. But true affection does not love its former friends less, even if it be unable to show itself outwardly, when it is extended to a greater number; just as neither does it fear to be less To Fulk, Bishop, 149 loved by the earlier, if they be true friends, when it obtains the affection of a greater number. And yet I find a certain comfort in the number of present friends for the vexation I endure from the absence of the earlier ones, that is however unable to cause me not to sorrow for those who the more they love me so much the more are they hurt by grief for the absence of their friend whom they love. I enjoy writing to my dear friend about the truth of my affection, and treating at length of its power: but since the brevity of a letter will not allow of this, I must now (although I should like to say more) change the subject. Some, as I have heard, suspect me of obtaining the archbishopric, to which I was dragged with grief and fear, through covetousness. Whether they do this by their own mistake or by the persuasion of others, may God, who sees that they are mistaken and wrong, have mercy on them. I do not defend myself to my brother beloved, who having known me long in familiar intercourse, undoubtedly must have learnt and believed in my freedom from desire of worldly honours. You knew this all the more certainly the more fearlessly you committed yourself and all your life to my guidance and judgment. But I defend myself before those, who ever they are, who shall read this letter, that they may know what my conscience witnesses with me before God, and that when need shall arise, they may defend me before others who are not well-informed, if not for my sake, yet on account of God's cause. For the weak brethren in God's Church are much injured by the opinion of any wickedness in any man, whether the report be a true or a false one; and most of all if it be of wickedness in him who is so placed in the Catholic Church as that by word and example he should and can be of use to others. Therefore be it known to all, as my conscience tells me in the sight of God, whom to invoke as witness to a lie is, I know, a crime, that I was not drawn or bound to the archbishopric over the English by the desire of anything whatsoever which a servant of God, a despiser of the world, ought to spurn; but the fear of God compelled me to suffer myself to be dragged, although grieved and afraid, from the Church of God. Also, that if I could, consistently with the obedience and love which I owe to God and to His Church, my mother, because of Him, I would rather and more gladly choose to be under an abbot and regular discipline in monkish poverty and humility, and to obey, and serve, than to reign as a secular prince in this world, or to govern, or to possess either arch bishopric or bishopric, or an abbey, or to be set over any men at all whether for the government of their souls or the sustenance of their bodies, in possession of great opulence whether in lands or worldly goods. This I do not ascribe so much to my own virtue as to this, that I know myself to be so little useful, strong, vigorous, prudent, or just, that it would suit me better, and be more advisable for me to be under obedience than to be set over others, to obey than to give orders, to serve than to rule, to minister than to be ministered unto. I am obliged to acknowledge this about myself; but I would rather say what I think of myself in all simplicity without any double-dealing than allow other men to sin against me, or to follow a bad example through their ignorance and their mistakes concerning me. Whoever believes what I here say of myself, it is certain will not be mistaken in believing thus, if my conscience deceives me not before God; and as to him who does not believe it, it is a truth that he, judging of me falsely and rashly, is mistaken. May Almighty God cause you to enjoy in this life and in the life that is to be, His unfailing protection and comfort. Amen.

To the Monks of Bec. 1 5 1