Letter CLXVI. To Pope Innocent, on the Same Subject

(Circa A.I). 1138.)

1. Again I call, again I knock, if not with clamorous cry, yet with tears and groanings. I am compelled to reiterate my crying by the reiterated injury inflicted on us by the wicked, and by those who prolong their iniquity. They have made themselves strong and added treachery to their evil-doing. They add sin to sin, and their pride is ever going up higher. Their phrensy has strengthened itself, while shame and the fear of God are no more. The man whom they did not hesitate to elect, my father, contrary to your wise and just arrangement, they have even dared to consecrate, or rather execrate, after an appeal had been made to you. This has been done presumptuously by the Archbishop of Lyons and the Bishops of Autun and Macon; all friends of Cluny. What a vast multitude of saints will be confounded by these men's fraud and audacity, if they are forced to bear such a yoke imposed on them in such a way. Wicked and shameful thing! If they are to accept it, it will be as if they were being forced to bow the knees to Baal, or, as the Prophet says, to make a covenant with death and to be at agreement with hell (Is. xxviii. 15). I ask, Where are equity, law, the authority of the sacred canons, and reverence for your majesty? That appeal which is denied to none that is oppressed was of no profit to me alone. When gold sways the throne, and silver sits at the seat of judgment, laws and canons are silent, and right and equity have no place. With the same weapons, which is still more intolerable, they threaten to storm the heights of the Apostolic citadel itself. That, however, is but vain, for it is founded upon a Rock.

2. But what am I doing? I have gone too far, I confess; it is not for me to accuse or blame any one; it is enough for me to bewail my grief. After long delay, and many toils, which I undertook in the service of the Roman Church, when at last it seemed good to your Serenity to let me return to my brethren, I rejoiced, though I was but an unprofitable servant with shattered health, because of the sheaves of peace which I was taking back with me, and I arrived safely at my monastery. I thought that I had escaped from labour to rest, that it was allowed me to re pair the losses of my spiritual studies, and the ruffling of the spirit's tranquillity which had met me outside my walls, and behold! tribulation and anguish have come upon me. As I lie upon my bed I am tortured more by the pangs of grief than by the body's pains. I do not complain of any temporal inconvenience. It is my soul that is in my hands, and its salvation that is at stake. Would you advise me to commit the keeping of my soul to a man who has lost his own? I know that you would not. Wherefore I have said to my soul that it is better for her to take flight from hence than to consume the remainder of my days with grief, and none the less to risk my salvation. But may God guide you to the course which is best; may He bring back to your recollection, if you think me worthy, in what manner I have dealt with you, and make you cast an eye of love upon your son, and free him from the anguish with which he is afflicted. Moreover, forget not what great things God hath done for you, and as some little return for it all, annul and undo what has here been done so much amiss.