to honor only in the armory of war, now sought it by the keener weapons of the schools. Bernard's associates then endeavored to withdraw him from his attachment to a monastic life through these studies; and here they met with better success, for these were congenial to his ardent and aspiring mind. But the impression so deeply received, was not to be easily effaced. The image of his beloved mother was constantly before his mind; he thought over the discourses she had held with him, and the plans of life they had devised together; and the fervor of his imagination led him to believe that she sometimes took her stand by his bedside, and angrily reminded him that it was not for such vanities, but with far higher hopes, that she had directed his education.

On one occasion in particular, as he was journeying alone to meet his brothers, who were in the camp of the Burgundian army, then engaged in besieging the castle of Granci, this idea took possession of him, and the image of his chiding mother filled his whole soul. Overcome by his emotions, he retired into a church which was upon the roadside, and open, as all churches should be, at all hours, for the furtherance of the means of grace. Here he prayed with deep earnestness that God would confirm him in his purpose of following a religious life. He arose strengthened from his

prayer, and with that ardor which was his distinguishing characteristic through life, he not only hastened to put his resolution into effect, but also sought to communicate his own views and feelings to his kinsfolk and friends. With many his persuasions were effectual. His uncle, a wealthy landed proprietor, and a man of high renown in arms, was the first to join him, and his example was followed by all Bernard's brothers who were come of age, except Gerard, his second brother. had distinguished himself in deeds of chivalry, and at the same time had conciliated universal esteem and affection by his prudence and kindness of heart. But he rejected all the arguments of Bernard and treated this sudden resolution of his brothers as an impulse of the moment which a little

VOL. II. No. 8.

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reflection would correct. On this occasion Bernard gave indications of that unyielding confidence, not to say anticipation of the future, which afterwards bore him onward through every obstacle that appeared to impede his progress. After a long, but ineffectual argument with Gerard, he exclaimed: "Yes, brother, I see it all. It is only by suffering that you will be brought to reflection; and," he continued, placing his hand on Gerard's side, "it shall come to pass, and that quickly too. A lance shall pierce your side, and thus open your heart to the counsels of salvation which you now reject." The prediction was verified; Gerard being wounded by a lance and left on the field of battle, was taken prisoner by the enemy. In this situation, and fearing for his life, he despatched a messenger to entreat the presence of his brother. Bernard was prevented from going, but he returned this answer: "Your wound is not unto death, but unto life." Gerard contrived to effect his escape, joined his brothers, and with them embraced the monastic life. Of his subsequent conduct and character we shall have occasion to learn from St. Bernard himself, and particularly from the pathetic funeral discourse which he preached on Gerard's happy death.

On the day that Bernard united himself to the chosen few whom he had won over to his vows, he repaired with them to church. One of the first texts which met their ear was that of the great apostle Paul:

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Being confident of this very thing, that he who hath begun a good work in you, will perfect it unto the day of Jesus Christ." This was regarded by Bernard as a voice from heaven to encourage him and his companions to persevere; and it gave occasion to an animated discourse in which he confirmed the resolution of his followers, and prevailed upon others to renounce the world, and join them in their pious enterprise. Some of these new votaries being married, he thought it incumbent on him to provide a retreat for those pious ladies who participated in the purpose of their husbands, and he caused the nunnery of Juilly, in the diocess of Langres, to be erected for them; an establishment which

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soon acquired wealth and celebrity. Guido, Bernard's eldest brother, and his wife had separated by mutual consent to devote themselves wholly to God, and she became the first abbess of the convent. Here also Hombeline, another of Bernard's sisters, subsequently retired, after the death of her husband, the brother of the duchess of Lorraine. This noble lady was also brought by St. Bernard to a sense of religion. An extract from one of the saint's letters, will show the influence he had acquired. “I thank God for your pious care of his servants; and of this be assured, that where we see the least spark of heavenly love in a heart of flesh, formerly puffed up by the pomps and the passions of this world, it is the result of divine grace, and not of human virtue. I entreat you to salute the duke, your husband, from me; and I exhort you both by the love of God, to yield up the castle which you are preparing to defend, if you have any doubt of the justice of your pretensions. Forget not, I entreat you, that warning voice- What will it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" "

Meanwhile the work of self-devotion went bravely on. Bernard engaged a house at Châtillon where he spent six months with his companions, for the purpose of affording them time to arrange their affairs. It was usual for those who had determined to embrace a monastic life, to keep their intention secret till the time arrived for its fulfilment; and thus it excited the greater astonishment that so many persons of all ages were seen resolved on renouncing wealth, honors, nay, domestic affection itself, without swerving from their resolution during the long interval of probation preceding its accomplishment; and more than all, when this marvellous change was seen to be effected by the influence and eloquence of a young man of three and twenty.

It was a proof of Bernard's humility, that, instead of aspiring to the honor of being the founder of a new religious order, like other men of eminent piety at this period, he preferred joining a fraternity already established. Nor did he think fit to make choice of any of the richer and more

illustrious abbeys, that of Clugni, for instance, the heads of which had long been held in honor by Popes and emperors. He selected a monastery poorly endowed and numbering but few members, the many being deterred by its poverty, and by the extraordinary austerity of its discipline. This was the convent of Citeaux, of the Cistercian order, situated in a barren wilderness in the diocess of Chalons-sur-Saône, and founded in the year 1098, by Robert, a nobleman of Champagne, in whom the laxity which he had witnessed in other convents had excited the desire of devoting himself, with a few companions, to a stricter course of life, and one more in accordance with the letter of the Benedictine rule. To this convent, then presided over by Stephen Harding, an Englishman, and the second successor of Robert, Bernard retired with more than thirty associates, in the year 1113.

A little anecdote associated with this event must not be forgotten. When Bernard and his brothers were taking a final leave of their paternal home, the eldest brother, addressing Nivard, the youngest, who was playing with the children in the street, exclaimed: "Well, little brother of mine, the whole of our inheritance will now become yours;" to which the boy with something above childish simplicity, rejoined: "What!

do you take heaven for yourselves, and leave me but the earth? That is not a fair division." It may be added that the little Nivard, when of riper years, joined his brethren, and that Tecelin, their father, unable to bear the loss of his sons, retired to Clairvaux soon after the establishment of that house, took the vows, and died there in the arms of St. Bernard, in 1118. His patrimony, the Chateau of Fontaines, the birth-place of our saint, which had reverted to the crown, was granted by Louis XIII, to the congregation of the Feuillans, and by them converted into a monastery: thus, to use the words of a contemporary writer, was the whole burnt offering made."

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In his retreat St. Bernard soon excited observation and astonishment by the personal activity which he had the power of combining with the most profound abstrac

tion of mind, and by the perfect subjection of the body to the spirit. One of the duties of the institute was to cultivate the land for the support of the community. During

the hours devoted to field-labor, his mind was elevated to the contemplation of that which lies beyond and above nature; and in after years he was heard to declare, that "any knowledge of divine things that he might possess, or any facility in explaining the Holy Scriptures, had been obtained through meditation and prayer among the woods and in the fields, with but the beeches and the oaks for his teachers."

The reputation of such a man could not fail to draw many votaries to Citeaux; the convent could not furnish accommodations for the increasing numbers who flocked to its sanctuary; and some other place was to be sought, in order to suit the exigency of the time. In the bishopric of Langres, and within a league or two of Bar-sur-Aube, there was a wild and desolate spot, where a robber's cave had existed, and which from the plant wormwood (artemisia absinthium), which grew abundantly there, went by the name of the Valley of Wormwood (Vallis Absinthialis); but after the valley. was cultivated, it obtained the name of Claravallis, clear or bright valley. The site had been granted to Abbot Harding, by Hugo, a knight of Champagne, who had gone on a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, and subsequently joined the Knights

"This life of ours, exempt from public haunts, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks Sermons in stones, and good in every thing."

Shakspeare.

A traveller gives the following description of the spot. "One cannot contemplate the valley of Clairvaux on a fine day, without feeling that it deserves the name,--the situation being extremely beautiful, lying open to the sun's rays in every direction. It is formed by two hills of gentle acclivity, one to the north, the other to the south of the valley. These hills extend towards a third eminence, by which it is divided into two long and narrow gorges at the western extremity. On the east it loses itself in a fertile plain, watered by the river Aube. The rays of the sun are thus darted full on the valley during the morning, while the declivities on the north and south, which recede as they approach the east, receive them during the remainder of the day. The light being thus continually reflected from the hills, no part of the circuit, except that covered by the woods, is in shadow, till the fall of eve, wheu the western hills receive the luminary, which sets in splendor behind the curtain of woods which fringe the heights.

Templars. Here Bernard laid the foundation of that monastery which soon became so famous, and contributed more than any other, to the extension and celebrity of the Cistercian order. When a building sufficient for present exigencies was completed, Bernard, then in the third year of his profession, was called to preside as abbot over the new establishment. He set out for this new residence, accompanied by his four brothers, his uncle Gauldry, by four monks, two bearing the name of Godfrey, one of whom was his relative, and the two others, aged men, Elbold and Guibert by name, and by an acolo thist, known by the name of "Young Robert." The number twelve was chosen in allusion to the apostolic college, while the father abbot was supposed to represent the Divine Founder of the

same.

The ceremonial observed on the occasion was simple and affecting. After a solemn service, the newly elected abbot received from the hands of Harding, the superior of Citeaux, a processional cross. He then rose, and delivering the cross into the hands of young Robert, the acolothist, quitted the church, followed by his twelve associates, and having taken leave of the brethren of Citeaux, the infant community departed, chanting an appropriate psalm. "When," says the Cistercian Chronicle, "Bernard and his twelve monks silently took their departure from the church, you might have seen tears in the eyes of all present, while nothing was to be heard but the voices of those who were singing the hymns; and even these brethren could with difficulty repress their sobs, notwithstanding that sense of religion which led them to make the strongest efforts to command their feelings; both those who remained, and those who departed, were infected with one common sorrow. At length the procession, which moved slowly, reached the gate which stood open for their departure, and which closed upon the inmates of Citeaux.”

In order to receive abbatical ordination, Bernard repaired to the bishop of Châlonssur-Marne, the celebrated Guillaume de Champeaux, afterwards founder of the abbey of St. Victor, in Paris. Bernard,

who was then in his twenty-sixth year, is described as being so thin and emaciated as rather to resemble a tenant of the tomb than a living being. He was accompanied by a stout and well made Cistercian, and so striking was the contrast, that the good bishop could scarcely refrain from smiling, while some of the younger of his attendants burst into downright laughter. The prelate, who recognized the master mind, which, veiled beneath the mantle of humility, animated that wasted frame, became Bernard's most zealous friend and admirer, and during the rest of his life rendered him many very important services.

It was evident that the rigid mode of living which Bernard had followed, must, if persisted in, prove fatal to his declining health. Apprehensive of this, the bishop obtained from the Cistercian chapter the superintendence of his friend for the space of one year. Anxious to restore his languid frame, he caused a sort of hut to be erected for him beyond the cloisters, where he was to remain for a stated time, without interfering with the affairs of the monastery.

A description of a visit to him in this situation, from the pen of his friend, the Abbot Guillaume de St. Thierry, will not fail to interest the reader. "It was about this time (1116) that my visit to Clairvaux commenced, and coming in company of another abbot to seek the saint, I found him in his cell, which was similar to those seen constructed on the road-side for the reception of persons suffering with the leprosy. He had been relieved from the presidency of the convent, by the interference of the bishop, and the command of the chapter; and we found him enjoying a state of perfect tranquillity, living only to God, and transported with joy as though he had already tasted the delights of Paradise. When I entered this palace of the woods, and began to contemplate the lodgings and the guest, I was penetrated with the most profound respect. On entering into conversation with

*The aspect of St. Bernard, his extreme vivacity, and the fiery energy of his whole manner, as contrasted with the serene and heavenly expres sion of his countenance, and the angelical purity and

him, I found such vivacity, and such sweetness in his manner and discourse, that I conceived a strong desire to share his hut and his poverty. Yes, I am fain to confess it, had it been given me to choose my lot among all that the world has to offer, I should have desired no other than that of abiding continually with the man of God, as his servitor.

"After he had welcomed us with gracious kindness, we proceeded to ask him how he employed his time and passed his life in this cell. He replied with that benevolent smile which is habitual to him; 'I do well here, very well. Formerly reasonable beings submitted themselves to my orders; but now, heaven so wills it, that I am obliged to submit myself to a man devoid of common sense.' This he said in reference to a conceited kind of fellow, a quack who had boastfully engaged to cure him, and to whose charge he had been committed by the bishop and chapter. We sat at table with him, expecting to find him under the strictest regimen for the re-establishment of a health so precious to the world; but when we saw him served, and by the doctor's orders, with viands so coarse and revolting (lumps of rancid butter formed part of the fare), that a hungry person in full health would scarcely be persuaded to touch, we felt indignant, and our vow of silence alone prevented us from treating the aforesaid quack, as a brutish, not to say sacrilegious As for the man of God, he was wholly indifferent to these things, appearing to have lost the very power of discriminating the flavor of meats, his stomach being entirely disordered, and incapable of performing its functions. Such was the state in which I found this servant of Christ; such was his manner of life in his solitude: but he was not alone,-God and his holy angels were with him."

person.

dove-like simplicity that beamed in his eyes, (which were scarcely ever spoken of without the addition of the epithet "columbinos"), produced so powerful an impression upon the minds of men, even of those who scarcely saw him and heard no thing more than the sound of his voice, that, as it is related in his life, when a party of Germans came to Clairvaux to see the man of God, they were moved to tears by his discourse, without compre hending the language in which it was delivered.

Bernard grew attached to this separate cell of his, which he was wont affectionately to call his beloved Jerusalem. He here found leisure to devote himself to the study and devotion of the holy Scriptures. He was sometimes heard to lament the interruptions to which he was exposed, in the visits of those, whom either an excusable curiosity to see this remarkable man, or the more reasonable desire of profiting by his enlightened counsels, brought to his cell. And yet, in the midst of his laments over such interruptions, he would instantly recollect himself, observing, "That the flame of divine love was not given for our solitary advantage, but also for the enlightening of our neighbor, and that thus to use it, was the most acceptable way of serving God, and imitating the Lord Jesus."

Of St. Bernard's enlightened views respecting monastic life, and of his just appreciation of its true spirit and character, a thousand instances might be adduced. Having found occasion to rebuke the pharisaical spirit of some of the Cistercians, who, for the non-observance of certain external precepts of the Benedictine rule, looked down upon the monks of Clugni with affected contempt, he pointedly observed,—“ Remember God's rule, which cannot be in opposition to that of the holy Benedict. Forget not, that the kingdom of God is within you, not in outward things, not in the meat and raiment, but in the virtue of the inner man. He is not a monk, who wears the cowl, but who is clad in the proper raiment of the spirit-piety, charity, and lowliness of mind. And say, is not humility in sables better than arrogance in a monk's habit? True it is, that the outward practices enjoined by the rule are not to be neglected; but the hidden man of the spirit -humility, piety and charity, are the essentials, without which all the rest profiteth nothing."

Speaking of the various religious orders, he observes, "It is well that there should be in the Church a variety in external forms and modes of life, in order to suit the various necessities and circumstances of men ; but when the members of these

several communities are united by the spirit of love, these differences can be no cause of collision, no motive for a breach of charity. Although a man be a member but of one order, yet is he united to all through love, and therefore participates in the good of all; yea, sometimes with more certainty than the co-operating members; for it may happen that one may undertake an external work in vain, for instance, if it be not undertaken in a proper intention and in the spirit of love; but a man can never err so long as he truly loves the good." Again: "What will it avail us that our mode of life be austere, our dress simple, our personal labor painful and wearisome, our fastings and watchings continual, if at the same time we indulge a pharisaical vanity in despising others? Unless, indeed, we do our works that they may be seen of men.' But the Saviour has declared of such, that they have their reward in this world. Alas! alas for us if in this world only we had hope of Christ,' for then indeed should we 'be truly miserable;' yea, ' of all men the most miserable,' if after having taken such pains to be unlike the world, we have but placed ourselves in a situation to receive a smaller recompense, or rather a more severe punishment than the rest of the world. Surely we might have found a pleasanter way to hell than this!"

In the quietude and pure air of his hut on the hill-side, in which Bernard's affectionate associations saw an earthly Jerusalem, his health was improved; but no sooner was he released from the state of surveillance in which he had been placed by the tender solicitude of those who loved and revered him, than together with the duties of abbot he resumed his former austerities. The whole community was animated by his spirit and example. Men of illustrious family, who had formerly played a distinguished part on the theatre of the world, were seen laboring in the sweat of their brow, and bringing to a high state of cultivation, a soil which at first would barely yield them a subsistence. But what could not zeal and perseverance effect, when encouraged by the spirit and led on by the example of their enthusiastic leader?