Letter LXXXV. To the Same Wllliam

(Circa A.D. 1125.)

Bernard gently reproaches him for complaining that a sufficient return was not made to him by Bernard in offices of friendship.¹

To Dom Abbot WILLIAM, Brother BERNARD wishes health and the charity which comes of a pure heart and a good conscience and faith unfeigned.²

1. If no one knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him (1 Cor. ii. n), if man sees only the face, while God reads the heart, I wonder, I cannot sufficiently wonder how and by what means you have been able to measure and distinguish between your affection for me and mine for you, so that you can judge, not only of the feelings of your own heart, but also of that of another person. It seems to be the error of the human mind, not only to think good evil and evil good, or true things false and conversely, but also to regard sure things as doubtful and doubtful things as sure. Perhaps it is true what you say, that you are loved less by me than you love me; but I am quite sure of this, that you can have no certainty about it. How, then, do you affirm as certain what you cannot possibly have any certainty of? Wonderful! Paul did not trust himself to his own judgment, saying, / judge not my own self (1 Cor. iv. 3). Peter mourned for the presumption with which he had deceived himself, when he said of himself, Though I should die with Thee I will not deny Thee (S. Matt. xxvi. 35). The disciples, not trusting their own consciences, replied one after the other concerning the denial of the Lord, Is it I, Lord? (S. Matt. xxvi. 22). David confesses his own ignorance of himself in his prayer, Remember not my sins of ignorance (Ps. xxv. 7, VuLG.). But you, with marvellous confidence, declare so positively, not only about your own heart, but mine, " Though I love more, I am loved less."

2. These were, in fact, your words. I could wish they had not been, because I do not know whether they are true. But if you know, how do you know? How, I repeat, have you made proof that I am more loved by you than you by me? Is it from what you have added in your letters, that those who go and come between our houses never bring you a pledge of regard and affection from me? But what pledge, what proof of love do you require from me? Is this the trouble that disturbs you, that to none of your many letters to me have I ever replied?³ But how could I think that the ripeness of your wisdom could take any pleasure in the scribblings of my inexperience? For I knew who said, My little children, let us not love in •word nor by tongue, but in deed and in truth (1 S. John iii. 1 8). When have you ever had need of my help and it has failed you? O, Thou who searchest the hearts and the reins! who alone, as the Sun of Righteousness, lightenest the hearts of Thy servants with the differing rays of Thy grace; Thou knowest I feel that I love him by Thy gift, and because he merits it; but how much I love him Thou knowest and I do not. Thou, O Lord, who hast given the love that we have, I for him or he for me, knowest how much Thou hast given. And by what right does any of us, to whom Thou hast not revealed it, dare to say, " I love more, I am loved less," unless he already sees his light in Thy light; that is, he recognizes in the light of Thy truth how bright the fire of charity may be?

3. In the meantime I am content, O Lord, to see my own darkness in Thy light, until Thou shalt visit me sitting in the darkness and the shadow of death; and by Thee the thoughts of men's hearts shall be revealed and the secret O things of darkness made manifest, and the shadows being dissipated, nothing but light shall remain in Thy light. I feel, indeed, that, by Thy gift, I love him; but I do not yet see in Thy light whether I love him sufficiently. Nor do I yet know if I have reached that degree of affection, than which there can be none greater, that one should lay down his life for his friends. For who will boast that his heart is pure, or that it is perfect? O, Lord, who hast lighted in my soul a lamp by whose light I see and shudder at my own darkness, my God! enlighten also that very darkness, that I may see and rejoice in my affections perfectly regulated within me, that I may know and love what ought to be loved, and to the right degree and for the right reason. May I not desire to be loved except in Thee, and no more than I ought to be loved. Woe to me also if (which I greatly fear) either I was more loved by him than I deserved, or he less loved by me than he was worthy to be. Nevertheless, if those who are the better ought to beloved the more (for those are the better who love the more), what else shall I say than that I do not doubt that I love him more than myself, whom I know to be better than myself; but I confess at the same time that I love him less than I ought to do, because I have less capability of doing so.

4. But, my father, the greater is your love, the less ought you to despise the imperfection of mine, because although you love more, having greater capability, yet you do not love more than your capacity enables you. It is thus with me, although I love you less than I ought, yet I love you as much as my capacity permits, and I can only do what I have received the capacity of doing. Draw me, then, in your train that I may reach unto you, and with you, receiving capacity more fully, may love more abundantly. Why, then, do you endeavour that I should attain and complain that I am not able to do so, since you have succeeded as you see and may dispose of me as you please, but such as I am, not such as you hoped to find me? Indeed, you see in me something, I know not what, which I have not, and pursue as me what is not me. Therefore you do not attain it, because I am insufficient for this, and, as you rightly complain in your letter, it is not I that fail you, but God in me. Now, if all this verbiage pleases you that I have ventured upon here, tell me, and I will repeat it, since in obeying you I shall not fear the reproach of presumption. The little Preface l which you have ordered to be sent to you I have not now at hand, nor did I think it necessary as yet to draw it up. I pray that He who has given you to will may in His good pleasure accomplish to you and to your friends whatsoever you will rightly, my pious and most reverend father, who art fully worthy of all my regard.⁴

Footnotes

1. The venerable William, whose friendship was a great delight to Bernard, was of a noble family of Liege, and was sent to Rheims to study there with another young man of good family, named Simon, whom a MS. of Marmoutiers, containing many Letters of Bernard, says was his own brother. William, despising the delights of the world, entered with his companion into the monastery of S. Nicasius, of Rheims, where he was celebrated for strict observance of the rule. After having happily passed through his noviciate, as each of them was exemplary in virtues, the one became Abbot of S. Nicholas aux Bois and the other, William, succeeded, in 1 120, as Abbot of the monastery of S. Thierry, of Rheims, to Geoffrey, who had been named Abbot of S. Medard, of Soissons. However, the reputation of Bernard for sanctity spread everywhere, and inspired many persons with the desire to see and admire him. This William, then a simple monk of S. Nicasius, having heard of the sickness with which the holy man was seized soon after he became Abbot of Clairvaux, went to see him with a certain abbot; and from the interviews they then had commenced that close friendship with which they were afterwards bound. It is that which explains the grief which he felt on hearing the calumnies of which Bernard was the object; and not being able to bear them longer, he occupied himself in justifying him against all the accusations made against him by the monks of Cluny, which he did in the elegant Apology written by him, and which will be found in a later volume. These were not the only vexations which the love of William for Bernard caused him to endure. Weary of the weight of his pastoral charge, and desirous of the society of Bernard, when he had been often refused entrance into Clairvaux, as will be understood after this Letter, he at length laid down his charge and betook himself to the monastery of Signy, of the Cistercian Order, in the Diocese of Rheims, about 1135, ater having been fourteen years and five months Abbot of S. Thierry. He was professed at Signy in 1 135, and after having passed many years there in great humility and exemplary modesty, as in the contemplation of heavenly things (which a MS. Chronicle of Signy calls " his daily occupation "), he quitted the world about 1 150, or at all events after 1144. ↩

2. Inscription from the Corbey MS. ↩

3. This was the first Letter of Bernard to William. ↩

4. This is the Letter which is placed at the head of his Apology, addressed to William, and was written about 1125. ↩