bodily senses altogether and to live entirely absorbed in religious meditation. Sleep he counted a loss, and com pared it to death. Food was only taken to keep him from fainting. The most menial offices were his delight, and even then his humility looked around for some lowlier employment. Fortunately lie loved nature, and found a constant solace in her rocks and woods. " Trust one who has tried it," he writes in one of his epistles, "you will find more in woods than in books ; trees and stones will teach you what you can never learn from masters." ("Expertocrede : aliquid amplius invenies in silvis quain in libris; ligna et lapides docebunt te quod a magistris
audire non possis," Epist, 106.)So ardent a nature soon found a sphere of ambition for itself. The monks of Citeaux, from being a poor and unknown company, began to attract attention after the accession of St Bernard and his friends. The fame of their self-denial was noised abroad, and out of their lowliness and abnegation came as usual distinction and success. The small monastery was unable to contain the inmates that gathered within it, and it began to send forth colonies in various directions. St Bernard had been two years an inmate, and the penetrating eye of the abbot had discovered beneath all his spiritual devotion a genius of rare power, and especially fitted to aid his measures of monastic re form. He was chosen accordingly to head a band of devotees who issued from Citeaux in 1115 in search of a new home. This band, with Bernard at their head, jour neyed nortlwards till they reached a spot in the diocese of Langres a thick-wooded valley, wild and gloomy, but with a clear stream running through it. Here they settled and laid the foundations of the famous abbey of Clairvaux, with which St Bernard s name remains associated in his tory The hardships which the monks endured for a time in their new abode were such as to drive them almost to despair, and their leader fell seriously ill, and was only rescued from what seemed impending death by the kind compulsion of his friend William of Champeaux, the great doctor of the age, who besought and received the direction of Bernard for a year from his superior at Citeaux. Thanks to his considerate friend the abbot of Clairvaux was forced to abandon the cares of his new establishment, and in retirement and a healthful regimen to seek renewed health. The effect was all that could be desired, and in a few years Bernard had not only recovered his strength, but had begun that marvellous career of literary and ecclesiastical activity, of incessant correspondence and preaching, which was to make him in some respects the most influential man of his age.
Gradually the influence of Bernard s character began to extend beyond his monastery. His friendship with William of Champeaux and others gave currency to his opinions, and from his simple retreat came by voice or pen an autho rity before which many bowed, not only within his own order but within the church at large. This influence was notably shown after the death of Pope Honorius II. in 1130. Two rival popes assumed the purple, each being able to appeal to his election by a section of the cardinals. Christendom was divided betwixt the claims of Anacletus II. and Innocent II. The former was backed by a strong Italian party, and drove his adversary from Eome and even from Italy. Innocent took refuge in France. The king, Louis the Fat, espoused his cause, and having summoned a council of archbishops and bishops, he laid his commands on the holy abbot of Clairvaux to be present also and give the benefit of his advice. With reluctance Bernard obeyed the call, and from the depths of seclusion was at once plunged into the heart of the great contest which was afflict ing the Christian world. The king and prelates put the question before him in such a way as to invite his decision and make him arbiter. After careful deliberation he gave his judgment in favour of Innocent, and not only so, but from that time forward threw himself with characteristic fervour and force into the cause for which he had declared. Not only France, but England, Spain, and Germany were won to the side of Innocent, who, banished from Eome, in the words of St Bernard, was " accepted by the world." He travelled from place to place with the powerful abbot by his side, who also received him in his humble cell at Clairvaux. Apparently, however, the meanness of the accommodation and the scantiness of the fare (one small fowl was all that could be got for the Pope s repast), left no wish on the part of Innocent or his retinue to continue their stay at Clairvaux. He found a more dainty recep tion elsewhere, but nowhere so powerful a friend. Through the persuasions of Bernard the emperor took up arms for Innocent ; and Anacletus was driven to shut himself up in the impregnable castle of St Angelo, where his death opened the prospect of a united Christendom. A second anti-pope was elected, but after a few months retired from the field, owing also, it is said, to St Bernard s influence. A great triumph was gained not without a struggle, and the abbot of Clairvaux remained master of the ecclesiastical situation. No name stood higher in the Christian world.
The chief events which fill up his subsequent life attest the greatness of his influence. These were his contest with the famous Abelard, and his preaching of the second crusade.
Peter Abelard was twelve years older than Bernard, and had risen to eminence before Bernard had entered the gates of Citeaux. His first intellectual encounter had been with Bernard s aged friend William of Champeaux, whom he had driven from his scholastic throne at Paris by the superiority of his dialectics. His subsequent career, his ill-fated passion for Heloise, his misfortunes, his intellectual restlessness and audacity, his supposed heresies, had all shed additional renown on his name ; and when a council was summoned at Sens in 1140, at which the French king and his nobles and all the prelates of the realm were to be pre sent, Abelard dared his enemies to impugn his opinions. St Bernard had been amongst those most alarmed by Abelard s teaching, and had sought to stir up alike Pope, princes, and bishops to take measures against him. He did not readily, however, take up the gauntlet thrown down by the great hero of the schools. He professed himself a " stripling too unversed in logic to meet the giant practised in every kind of debate." But "all were come prepared for a spectacle," and he was forced into the field. To the amazement of all, when the combatants met and all seemed ready for the intellectual fray, Abelard refused to proceed with his defence. After several passages considered to be heretical had been read from his books he made no reply, but at once appealed to Eome and left the assembly. Probably he saw enough in the character of the meeting to assure him that it formed a very different audience from those which he had been accustomed to sway by his sub- tilty and eloquence, and had recourse to this expedient to gain time and foil his adversaries. Bernard followed up his assault by a letter of indictment to the Pope against the heretic. The Pope responded by a sentence of con demnation, and Abelard was silenced. Soon after he found refuge at Cluny with the kindly abbot, Peter the Venerable, who brought about something of a reconciliation betwixt him and Bernard. The latter, however, never heartily forgave the heretic. He was too zealous a churchman not to see the danger there is in such a spirit as Abelard s, and the serious consequences to which it might lead.
church, and it was this enthusiasm which led him at last
into the chief error of his career. Bad news reached