Arnulf the Monk

CONCERNING BL. ARNULF THE MONK,

OF THE CISTERCIAN ORDER, OF VILLERS IN BRABANT.

A.D. 1228.

PRELIMINARY COMMENTARY.

On his life, written in two books by a contemporary and intimate immediately after his death; and on the veneration of his body.

Arnulf, Lay-brother of the Cistercian Order at Villers in Belgium (B.)

BY D. P.

Villers, a noble monastery of the Cistercian Order in Gallo-Brabant, at the second mile from the town of Gembloux, upon the spring of the river Thyle, is reported to have had its beginning from Godfrey III Duke of Brabant in the year 1146, Villers, founded in the year 1146, under whose eighth Abbot Charles, Monks being sent from Clairvaux by St. Bernard himself under the Abbot Laurence, of whom we treated among the Passed-over on May 17. From him the eighth is numbered Charles, of the Counts of Seine, from Himmerod summoned, and famous for the fame of sanctity himself also, but elected in the year 1197, as Jongelinck writes. In his time, toward the end of the year 1201, to conversion came Bl. Arnulf, at Brussels, the royal city of Brabant, born of parents of middling rank; to whom however the surname "A Cornibout," adds Molanus among the Births of the Saints of Belgium, he there took the habit, Arnulf, in the Eulogy of him on this

day, taken chiefly from the narration of Jerome Moor, and other men of Villers: although in that age, among commoners rare; among Religious, even the most noble, there was absolutely no use of surnames taken from one's stock.

[2] He lived there, or rather in the Granges of the monastery, called Sart and Nova-curia, and died in the year 1228 among the Lay Brothers, whom monastic usage names Conversi; not indeed that to manual work there he might attend, but that more freely by macerating his body through penances utterly stupendous, and feeding his spirit with divine contemplations he might have leisure, under three successors of Charles, Conrad, Walther, William. But under the last of these he ended his life, in the year of the Lord 1228, on the day before the Kalends of July, on Friday about the sixth hour, twenty-six years and six months being completed in the Cistercian Order. For his tomb, His tomb and epitaph. once honored by frequent miracles, this kind of Epitaph composed we found, in the manuscript after the Life:

In this tomb rests a man, in simplicity a dove; Who in virtue a Lion; in jubilations is likened to the Lark; Who a Turtle-dove in groaning, in look, and is likened in flight; Equal to the Eagle; a Salamander, because he lived in a new fire. Do you wish briefly the praises of the just at the end to prove? Now he sings thence LA, SOL, who once wept in UT, RE.

That is, with a most joyful song he jubilates, after the elevation of the Body, who once with a most mournful strain lamented, the metaphor being taken from the musical notes, by which the highest and lowest tone is expressed.

[3] How long that tomb held the sacred body, is unknown to us; then translated into a shrine of the Blessed, but I would believe this to have been the second, given to him in the church itself, after in the common cemetery with the rest somewhat buried he had reposed. For the people of Villers think, by the testimony of Molanus, that he was once offered to the Roman Pontiff to be canonized, but that the general Chapter of the Order prevented it, lest by the multitude the Saint should become cheapened. Then after the high altar, with the other Relics of the same monastery, for many years was stored that same body, I persuade myself, just as about the body of Bl. Juliana of Cornillon Henriquez wrote, reported before her Life on April 5 at no. 19: and so about him, and about the others there placed it must be held, what about all together in the aforesaid place wrote the same Henriquez, namely, that on account of the internal commotions of these provinces, to the Chapel of St. Bernard about the year 1600. he was not with that honor which he deserved held; until, the state of affairs being gradually mitigated, and in a more settled time, Robert Henrion, Prelate of this house, to a more becoming place the Blessed's body to translate decreed. Which also indeed was done, and the sacred body with the other Saints' Relics into St. Father Bernard's Chapel, which with jasper and marble he had ordered to be adorned, he translated; and in it a shrine of black marble skillfully polished he caused to be made, and in it the Saints' bones to be placed. Robert the Abbot presided from the year 1587 to the year 1620, in the said Chapel of St. Bernard buried also himself. But the Chapel on the left occurs to those entering the church of Villers.

[4] Besides this honor of the most ornate chapel, to all thus common, The title of Blessed in the Martyrologies. that to each individually nothing more is rendered of those things, which we can presume once were done, when each had their own monuments and place. To Bl. Arnulf properly pertains, what Francis Moschus, to be praised below, as an eyewitness, thus writes before the Life published by him: "This blessed Man's bones, by the zeal of the very Reverend Lord, the Lord Robert Henrion, Description of the chapel itself. most worthy Archimandrite of Villers, were translated from the place of his first burial into a certain Chapel of the temple of that Monastery, and there reverently and honorifically laid. The Chapel itself in length and breadth almost equal, of about twenty feet more or less. The tomb of the blessed Man of black marble bright and skillfully polished, at the margins hollowed, with triple structure or series. At the head there stand three columns of jasper, with capitals of marble placed on top, the side of the chapel being closed by eight gratings of brass, with in the middle a square column of marble added, whose surface within, with roses and little flowers excellently sculpted, gilded is seen. A work, by Hercules, exceedingly artful, and magnificent, and at huge expense. Above for Psalm 150. For a crowning-piece are the insignia of the said Abbot, which of flames and stars consist, with the added motto, 'Each [is] eternal.' Before the altar of the chapel, in the very pavement, in tessellated work, and beautifully variegated, is seen in four parts the history of the Prodigal Son. The first part contains the effigy of the youth, receiving his hereditary portion from his father; II, dissipating it with harlots; III, feeding on husks and acorns; IV, returning to his father, and acknowledging his fault."

[5] The appellation of Blessed remains, both by usage itself, and by certain Fasti of the monastery confirmed; for instance those of Wion, Menard, Bucelinus, and Chalemot; whom there preceded, besides Molanus, the Carthusians of Cologne in the Additions to Usuard of the year 1516, with these words: "In the monastery of Villers of the Cistercian Order, of blessed memory Arnold, Lay-brother and Confessor." A manuscript of the Church of St. Gudula at Brussels, similarly by a certain Canon there augmented, expresses the name better, when it reads thus: "In Brabant the passing of Br. Arnulf of Brussels, Lay-brother of the monastery of Villers, where the wonderful deeds of his sanctity are had." The author of the manuscript Florarium The Life composed soon after his death "At the monastery of Villers, the Deposition of the venerable Arnulf, man of God, of Brussels by nation; who after a wonderful life, comprised in two little books, dying; appeared after his death to a certain devout person in the form of a boy, with a garment partly snow-white, partly purple clothed around: by the boy-like form he signified, that he had lived humbly and innocently; by the snow-white color, that he had led a clean life; by the purple indeed, that by a long-lasting effusion of blood his body he had afflicted. He died in the year of salvation 1228."

[6] by Goswin the Cantor of Villers. That vision and apparition is taken from the aforesaid Life's book 2, in the penultimate number: and many of this kind more and other miracles no doubt there would be read, unless very soon after Arnulf's death that Life had been written; which both from elsewhere clearly enough, and most clearly is understood from the same book 2, number 59, where it is said; how the holy man, in the year 1226 foretold, that within the coming decade, very many wars and many tribulations in the Church would be stirred up; but in the next year there began to be heard rumors, that Frederick against the Lord Pope and the Church to rise up would try. Then adds the Author; "Let therefore the prudent Reader attend … how many and how great things afterward happened: how many and how great perhaps thereafter within the aforesaid decade horrible evils may happen." By which words it is signified that a good part of that decade still survived, when the Life was written: or rather, when, first in the year from the death written, one or another year after, the same again was written; and among other things presently to be indicated, also that prediction was added, in the third year from his death.

[7] The author the people of Villers in Molanus name, Goswin of Bossut, Cantor of the monastery. A manuscript of Aubert Le Mire bears this title: "The Life of the servant of God Br. Arnulf, Lay-brother of Villers, by the Author Dom Goswin, Cantor of that same place": which title also is in the manuscript of Val-Dieu, with which Le Mire's Codex accurately collated our Heribert, from everywhere material for this our Work collecting; and also with the manuscript of the very monastery of Villers, where with a fuller title the same Life is written, "published by a man of pious memory, religious, Dom Goswin, from his own and others' secret knowledge, once Monk and Cantor of that same place, in two books written." But that he was familiar with the Man of God himself, both in various other places can be understood, and from the end of the first book; where giving the reason of his knowledge, as to his enormous penances; "from his mouth we heard," he says, "and that it is true we believe, he asserting it." He premises however, besides those whom in the course of the work he names, that very many things he had from a certain most intimate Monk of his, Walther; by whose importunate insistence overcome Arnulf, to him many of his secrets noted; and that also certain secular persons of the aforesaid Religion, and certain of the Brothers of the House of Villers, some of the blessed Man's secrets, which from his mouth they had heard, to him narrated. Furthermore worthy of note it is, that all three aforesaid manuscripts word for word so agree up to book 2's number 30, that by no means worth the trouble was it, of Rosweide, in making the collation, even the most minute things observing, to praise the diligence; but it must only be noted, once and again augmented in the 3 manuscripts. that from there the whole Writing by almost a fourth part, both of words and also of sentences, is held augmented; whence I have certainly persuaded myself, that the Author himself, as above I hinted, his Writing renewed, another copy being written out, and in writing all those things added, which with these signs [ ] I have enclosed. But that all was written, while the decade was still running before the schism predicted by Arnulf in the year 1226, appears from no. 59 of book 2.

[8] Angelo Manrique, in the Cistercian Annals at the year 1228, ch. 5, Another was published by Francis Moschus, briefly touches on Arnulf's Life, and at no. 10 thus speaks: "The same Saint's Life in this our century, with others is said to have published Francis Moschus, at Arras in the year 1600; but who from various papers it collected, nor saw Goswin: whence far different notes Aubert Le Mire in the Cistercian Chronicle, where about the Saints of the monastery of Villers." The same thus printed in octavo, as we say, together with the Life of St. Simon of Aulne, to be honored on September 6, we have in our Museum; and he dedicated it to Abbot Robert, where in the title professes Moschus, of Nivelles, of the Armentarians, that is of Armentières, in Flanders parish-priest, and at St. Piaton at Seclin of the Melanthesians to the Lord Robert Henrion aforesaid (to him whom we said the Relics of the Blessed of Villers more becomingly composed) peace and felicity having prayed; with a brief eulogy of the Blessed, he professes that from Molanus's writings first known to him it was, that there had been once in his monastery a certain marvelous man, Arnulf, surnamed Cornibout, with illustrious gifts from God adorned, of monastic discipline most observant, in patience and humility resplendent, in obedience second to none, in benignity to be looked up to, to prayer most intent, in abstinence singularly celebrated, in the contemplation of divine things sublime and ecstatic, a most keen chastiser of his ass, that is, of his body, to the rule and state toward his neighbor very austere, finally with all the pearls of virtues most adorned.

[9] His Life, says Moschus, addressing the Abbot, with Molanus as indicator, diligently I sought, and having sought I found, but with the style of Goswin changed. and by your benefit at last received; and, lest I be ungrateful, to your Amplitude in print I send it … The Author I would believe to have been Goswin, because that Author praises Molanus. Although, while once about this with you I treated, not even of Goswin's name any trace was extant, in those two manuscript books, of which to me a copy

your Reverence made. But it can be, that some third book bears the Author's name, from which were transcribed those two which I saw: but the third by the injury of the times perished, which however I persuade myself was seen by Molanus many years ago. However the matter may be, the Author himself was not of divine things unskilled, nor in writing devoid of method. The book not undiligently I unrolled, faults several I removed, and where the Latinity seemed less tolerable, the style somewhat I polished, from the history's truth nowhere swerving. In the treatise on the blessed man's penance, certain things are repeated, before in his Life written: but to the lovers of piety not will that repetition, as I trust, be unwelcome. You know that Platonic saying, "Twice and thrice the beautiful" (Δὶς καὶ τρὶς τὸ καλόν). These things Moschus. Writes also Manrique, that the same Life, reduced to a compendium, in comparison with which here is given the genuine. John de Assignies in French, Chrysostom Henriquez in Latin gave. We the genuine work of Goswin, hitherto by no one published, here in its own style publish.

LIFE

By the Author Goswin, Cantor of Villers, contemporary and intimate. From three manuscripts collated among themselves by Rosweide.

Arnulf, Lay-brother of the Cistercian Order at Villers in Belgium (B.)

BHL Number: 0713

BY GOSWIN, CONTEMPORARY, FROM A MS.

PREFACE.

[1] Just as in the germs of herbs and trees, which the earth produces, not one species, nor one in all is the genus; but each single one in the form of its own genus, As in nature things are gradually perfected and in the quality of its own stock is begotten; but full beauty not at once as they are produced do they receive, but by certain and ordered increases are advanced, until to the perfect quantity of their state, through the succeeding increases to one another they come: so also the seeds of the divine graces, and the plants of virtues, not in every field of the human heart, so men in grace, all this equally which they are to become are born; nor easily is found at the outset maturity, and in the beginning perfection. According to this similitude, no one suddenly becomes highest; but in a diverse manner diverse [men] gradually advance from virtue to virtue, according as the grace of God shall smile upon them; although sometimes otherwise it happens by privilege, from whom is given to them without merit, whence they tend to merit; and from whom each obtains before any labor, whence afterward he may receive a reward according to his labor. 1 Cor. 12:4 & 7:7, For "the divisions of graces are" as the blessed Apostle says; "and each one his own gift has from God, one thus, another indeed thus." But although our omnipotent God, sometimes in some of his servants works certain things singularly marvelous and marvelously singular, which in many others cannot be found; not therefore does it become consequent, that the privileges of a few make a common law.

[2] as was done in Bl. Arnulf: If so it is, nay because so it is, deservedly to be privileged is the venerable conversation of Brother Arnulf, our new Martyr: who so marvelously lived in this mortal life, that scarcely today is found anyone, who the austerity of his life, not to say in all things to sustain, but not even to attempt would dare. Who while still among men he lived, whose certain secrets, by his intimate and the secrets of his conversation partly were known, partly unknown; one of the Villers Monks, Walther by name, who to him very familiar was, many times more secretly asked him, that of the goods of the Lord, with which the grace of the mother had enriched him, to him some, for the cause of edification, he would intimate. He indeed more often resisting, the same Monk said that he was greatly saddened, and that from his importunity to desist he would not, unless to him by him some things were intimated. At last he, by the insistence of the one asking overcome, and received from others. to the asker gave satisfaction, and to him many of his secrets disclosed, which we from that Monk's mouth snatching, to memory commended, that to writing afterward we might hand them over. Certain also secular persons, of approved religion, and certain of the Brothers of the House of Villers, the Author about to write, some of the blessed man's secrets, which from his mouth they had heard, to us narrated: by whose testimony made credible to us to declare his conversation.

[3] he divides his work in two, That therefore the lamp may be put upon the candlestick, and may shine to the faithful who are in the Church of God, the marvelous conversation of this Just one, as by the aforesaid Monk, or by other witnesses truthful to us it was recited, briefly to elucidate desiring, the Holy Spirit we invoke as helper, that by his grace our heart and our tongue ruling, some things, both to those present and to posterity, to profit, we may be able to write. And because many are the afflictions, which that Blessed corporally sustained: fitting to us it seemed, in the first book of his Life, not only his corporal afflictions, but also the instruments of the afflictions only to note; that all may learn that he by a long martyrdom was crowned. But in the second book, the virtues and revelations or his other deeds, with the Lord helping, we will describe. This kind of division also Manrique found, but a little otherwise partitioned the last chapters: for the prophecy about the future schism, which in Le Mire's manuscript wanting Rosweide from the Val-Dieu manuscript warned to be inserted in the Chapter with us 20, indicates Manrique that in his which he used manuscript it is found in Chapter 22, and the apparitions after death he ascribes to Chapter 25, when our copy, before the Val-Dieu supplements written, with Chapters 21 ends. The genuine therefore and first Division and the ancient titles of the Chapters here receive, that without detriment to antiquity it may be lawful for us in our manner to form longer chapters, an indication being added of the number under which each is to be found.

THE ANCIENT DIVISION.

Verses On his conversation and death.

BOOK I.

CHAPTER I.

Arnulf's conversion, his coming to Villers, and the first instruments of penance.

[4] Born at Brussels, There was in the Bishopric of Cambrai, in a certain town of true Brabant, which Brussels is called, a certain youth, Arnulf by name, whom from middling parents to have drawn his origin they report. Eccl. 11:10, He in the first flower of his adolescence, by no means attending to what Solomon says, "adolescence and pleasure are vain"; nor even foreknowing, how great goods God in the future for him was to do; the pledge, confession being made, by which he in baptism had promised to renounce the devil and all his pomps, by no means up to the end unblemished kept; but light in manners and words, through the tortuous paths of death began as an erratic wayfarer to go, and as much as it pleased to the pleasures of his flesh to serve. But when it pleased the Lord, who him separated from the womb of his mother, to devotion he gives himself, to call him through his grace; he sent him a spirit of saving counsel, which the darkness of his heart might illumine, and the wanderer to the way of truth might lead back. At whose sweet whisper from the sleep of death awakened, he went to the Priest, the Vicar of Christ; and the noxious poison of his sins in Confession vomiting out, he put off the old man with his deeds, and put on the new, who according to God created is in justice and the holiness of truth.

[5] Then with all industry separating himself from the malevolent fellowship of seculars, he chastises his drowsiness under a dripping. he began to frequent religious persons, and to good men himself familiar to show; that by their exhortations and holy prayers, the more freely to better things he might advance, the more strongly the enticements of the flesh and the vanity worldly he renounced. As often as he could, the holy celebration of Masses he attended; and on the Lord's nights and on the Saints' festivities, the bells being rung for Matins, unwearied to the church he flew. But if at any time sleep more long-lasting had oppressed him, so that at the sound of the bell by no means he rose; and afterward however waking, Matins now in part sung, later to the church he came; then in a wondrous manner mourning and ashamed, not before the eyes of men, but of God; the church to enter, and the Lord himself to stand by he refused: but he stood outside in that place, where from the roof of the church the drippings of rain descended, dripping upon the earth: but yet rarely it happened to him.

[6] And because it is written, "The furnace proves the potter's vessels, and the temptation of tribulation chaste men"; at a certain time, by the instinct of the devil, he was tempted, but proved. Eccl. 27:6 For when a certain woman, Solicited at night by a wanton little woman, in age a young girl, lascivious in manners, and secularly living, saw him a youth in look comely; by the snare of her own eyes captured, she burned in concupiscence of him. But because the foul love of her heart, the kindler of lustful mingling, to him openly to bare she blushed, because timorous and to a religious life given she perceived him; she began to think, by what art she might allure him to sin. And having got an opportunity, on a certain night, when he in his bed himself had placed to rest; under the darkness of night having entered secretly the chamber, she came to his bed; and beside him impudently placing herself, she began him with wanton words to incite to sin. Which he when he heard, at once from the bed leaping out he fled; and so the wretched woman, he takes flight at night, frustrated of her hope grieving herself to be, confounded withdrew. At that hour with so strong he would have been into the gulf of sin, unless the Lord the hand of his grace to him had reached out, who his servants does not suffer to be tempted above what they can, but makes with the temptation also a way out, that they may be able to sustain. For his deliverance therefore thanksgivings to the Lord glad rendering, he said: "I hope in you, Lord my God, because as now through you from this deadly fire I am freed, so thereafter this kind of burning, you protecting, over me will not have dominion."

Chapter II.

[7] Fighting therefore from then on the new athlete manfully, he prepared his soul for temptations; and he applies his mind to Religion, and in this state of Religion, for about two years fortifying himself: as much as he could, himself from sins and vices he guarded. But fearing lest, if perchance a relapse he should suffer, his last things should become worse than his first, he proposed to pass to the Cistercian Order: and as if he had received an answer from the Holy Spirit, that he would not see death, unless first he were a Lay-brother of that same Order, and marvelously beyond the rest he lived; two companions with him of his journey without delay taking, namely the fear of the Lord and the hope of pardon, he left kinsmen and acquaintances, and departing bade farewell to the world, forever and ever. Having gone out therefore the new little recruit of Christ with Abraham, In the 22nd year of his age at Villers he takes the habit of a Lay-brother from his land and from his kindred, that he might go into the land which God had shown him; in the twenty-second year of his age, he came to the monastery of Villers, where from the Lord Charles, at that time Abbot, to be received he asked and obtained; and so the secular habit being laid aside, and the habit of the Order being assumed, to the Lay Brothers' convent he was joined. But having been made a Novice,

with all benevolence of heart and longanimity, he awaited the anniversary day of his Profession. On which while he professed to his Abbot, a copious and in some way singular blessing of heavenly grace from the highest Abbot he deserved to receive, as in what follows will be declared.

[8] But when the year of his probation was not yet in great part run out; he is troubled by desire of greater rigor, he began salutarily to be saddened, because less labor and affliction than he supposed, he reckoned himself to have found: and with silent thoughts within himself, with himself about himself he complained, saying: "To what came I to this Order? Was it that in vain my days I should consume? If outside I had remained in the world, much more affliction corporally I could have sustained, than here I sustain. There is another thing also which torments me within; this namely, that all things necessary to my body, both in food and clothing, without my solicitude to me are ministered, and indeed abundantly, more than my body and stomach need. Lo, my time I lose, and my days without the fruit of reward pass by."

[9] When these and similar things in his mind he turned, reckoning with himself, lest perchance the penitential afflictions of the Order were concealed from him; he began to think and rethink, what stricter, or what more penal he might to his flesh superadd: and he found a certain torment, which enough burdensome to his body would be. For he made for himself secretly two little cords, and binds his thighs with hair cords: of hairs twisted, which to him a horse's tail furnished, and bound around with them tightly his thighs above the knees, carrying them for many days, until his flesh thereby vehemently was injured. But on a certain day it happened to him, that from a certain failing of body made as if lifeless, he fell to the ground. Which seeing a certain Brother, and fearing lest some singular affliction to his body he was inflicting; after a little, when to himself he had returned, addressing him apart, said to him: "Brother Arnulf, beware, lest the common institutions of the Order transgressing, of a life harsher to yourself not licensed you assume the austerity or singularity: which disclosing to his Confessor, because great thence of your body you might incur detriment." At which word he confused in himself, went to the Monk Confessor, who at that time was Master of the Lay-brothers; and confessed, that he had carried those little cords without license. The Confessor indeed chiding him, and enjoining him a penance, forbade, that anything similar henceforth without license he should dare to attempt.

[10] he is permitted to use another, knotted one; He indeed made more constant by the chiding of his Master, license being received made another little cord longer, in which many he inserted knots, that more quickly and more grievously the skin with the flesh it might cut, and to himself greater this medicine might give pain, and with it he girded himself around the middle of himself, binding it strongly to his body, which likewise for days many he is recorded to have carried. At last that little cord, the skin transfixing, into his flesh so strongly was immersed, that from his flesh putrefied worms bubbled up, and that same flesh great from itself a stench vomited. O truly happy boy, about whom newly born so solicitous is the mother grace, that not only she nourishes him with the sweetness of milk, but also myrrhed wine offers him to drink; but this too he is forced to lay aside. while she binds him in the cradle of his infancy with the swaddling-band of so pricking a cord, and with a knife so most sharp the carnal in him circumcises wantonness. Fearing therefore the strong athlete, lest the stench, which from the putrefaction of his flesh proceeded, injury to his neighbors should generate; he took care that same cord from his flesh wholly to withdraw, not from above mentioned.

CHAPTER II.

The frequency and marvelous and bloody variety of Arnulf's scourgings.

Chapter III.

[11] From that time therefore, when the little cords he cast from himself the strong warrior, so cruel against his body he made a conspiracy, With cruel rods his whole body he tortures, that whatever thereafter of new and penal instrument to his thoughts occurred, whence his flesh he might tear, to his flesh without doubt to war it down he applied. A certain time therefore having passed, the blows of rods considering, with rods his hand he equips; and himself to the girdle, or even his whole body, sometimes of his clothes stripping, to his flesh, in whatever place the hand of the striker reached, so grave a torment by scourging he inflicted, that with many weals his flesh showed itself furrowed. But when a sacrifice of this kind to the Lord he often offered, and snatched away by love, with even mind the raging blows of the rods he bore; showing himself a true disciple of the Lord and his Master, who his most holy flesh to scourges to be torn offered. Under whose mastership advancing from day to day in simplicity of heart, he learned from him to be meek and humble of heart; he learned also the art of arts, the art of love; which, as St. Bernard says, headlong, vehement, flaming and impetuous is; which besides itself another to think does not allow; which confounds order, which dissembles custom, which knows no measure: which all that of opportunity, that of reason, that of modesty, that of counsel or judgment seems to be, triumphs over in itself and reduces into captivity.

[12] This love through all the marrow of his heart to engraft in himself desiring the servant of Christ, he uses holly, for scourges, began himself to despise, and of his body in some way to forget; earthly things to despise, heavenly to desire, and in the love of eternity to be suspended. Hence it is that the blows of rods making little of, he began in the woods holly to collect, namely the wood with ever-green leaves prickly; making thence for himself little bundles, and with their twigs privately he scourged himself at all times, both of summer and of winter, except on the Lord's days or the festivities of the Saints. Let all therefore acknowledge, that wherever the hand of the striker on his body found a place, under his garment and in his bed. with so irremediable a discipline himself even to the effusion of blood he was wont to strike, that the prickly twigs, with which he scourged himself, it behoved him to change frequently, and new to take; because from frequent strikings, several over his body were broken. It did not suffice him that with blows his flesh he afflicted, unless also new modes of afflictions he devised. Sometimes indeed the pricking leaves of holly taking, underneath to his flesh, in his bosom he placed them. Sometimes also a heap of prickly twigs, in the manner of a little bed to himself on the ground spreading, naked in them he wallowed.

[13] On a certain day, when a certain Monk had come to the grange, Hence the one chiding him as bloodied where that man of the Lord dwelt, he asked the Brother stableman, named Nicholas, where he might be. Who answering said, that he was in purgatory. At which word when the Monk marveled, and asked, of what kind was that purgatory; the aforesaid Brother subjoined saying: "Because he in his accustomed manner with purgatorial blows his body was afflicting." Then the Monk, "How gladly," he said, "would I converse with him, if that to me by him were granted; but as I think, by such a business hindered, outside to me now he would not come forth." "Nay," said he, "if your arrival to him becomes known, without delay he will proceed." And at once knocking at the door of the cell, he called out the man of God, announcing by name that a Monk had come, who his holy and familiar conversation longed for. Forthwith he his tunic again wrapping around himself, and his hood resuming, went out. But when the Monk saw his tunic, with blood bloodied, with little rivers of blood from his body recently scourged running down; from the grief of his heart he wept, he answers, that thus sins are killed: so that the man of the Lord the cause of his tears from him inquired. Who answering said: "I am touched with grief of heart within, attending to the marvelous martyrdom. And why, dearest, do you kill yourself?" At which word he, to the Monk jokingly satisfying, not of himself, but of sins the killer to be he answered. Nor is it a marvel. For most sharp and frequent affliction of the flesh, often takes away from God's servants in part no small the occasions of sinning.

[14] On another occasion again, when within his cell himself in his accustomed manner he struck; a certain man stood outside beside the wall, the blessed man not knowing it, that the manner of his scourging he might explore; and that one thousand nine hundred blows he had given to his flesh, those same blows numbering, to another, who had numbered 1900 blows, he recognized, before from the scourging he ceased. A marvelous thing! Who over these would not be astonished? O Friend of omnipotent God, what is it that you do? Others seek their own comforts, fostering their flesh; and even the soldiers of this world fight, not against themselves, but their enemies: you on the contrary against your flesh fight, and like a furious soldier on it a new war declare. We beseech you for Christ, have mercy on your flesh, the poor and frail flesh, without which to live you cannot. But if it you desire to afflict, he says that thus the enemy must be treated, consult at least the nurse of virtues, discretion: from her you will be able to be taught, how much you ought to the beast of your flesh to impose. "By no means," said he, "by no means to effect will be brought this kind of persuasion, since my flesh is my enemy, so much the more to be feared by me, the more nearer to me it is. The beast of my flesh by goads to be pricked and driven is necessary, lest it wax wanton and me drag into the gulf of death: and therefore new still wars against it to stir up I propose."

Chapter IV.

[15] Therefore the most strong soldier, persevering in his holy purpose of assailing his flesh, A rod, rough with the spines of a hedgehog, that in torments, applied or to be applied to his body, similar he might be made to the lion, who at no one's approach is afraid; found a certain kind of scourge, whose blows not only unbearable today to many would seem, but also the beholders with exceeding horror would shake. For he made for himself a wooden rod gluing to it the skin of a hedgehog, with many spines prickly; and in the virtue of the holy cross wisely taught, seizing it, much blood he draws out, he scourged himself, where his flesh thicker was held, or wherever the hand of the striker found striking himself, and torment to torment adding, something greater he might do than the Martyrs of old, who by others' hands were tortured. And when with such goads his body he mercilessly pierced, so great an abundance of blood from the holes flowed out, that his hand on the surface was stained. But as often as, both with rods, and the inflicted wounds he renews, and with holly, or the rod, his flesh so furiously he had struck; on the following day himself cured divinely he found; except that certain blackness spots from the weals and holes on his flesh appeared. Sometimes also recently scourged, naked he wallowed in nettles, so that the pain which those biting nettles produced, by wallowing among nettles. sharper to him and more intolerable, as he himself reported, above all the pains, which before he had sustained, seemed.

[16] How shall we magnify you, servant of God the high? who not only little cords, rods, and holly;

but also a rod, and such a rod, devising, chose. Where ever did you hear it done, that anyone himself with such a rod has dared to strike? It is the custom for schoolboys, that if any one of them perchance happens, in the Latin of their conversations to utter false grammar, his comrade who hears this, with a wooden rod strikes the palm of his hand, and that same rod to him to be kept leaves. So perhaps, because once in the world against the rule of Christ you had lived, and in your works you had made, the holy fear of the Lord, I do not say your hand, but many parts of your body, with the aforesaid rod to strike often and most sharply compelled; that deservedly you might offer to the Lord of majesty your blood, who at the time of his passion gratefully offered for you to God the Father his blood. And whence at last so great audacity did you conceive, that your flesh with the blows of so horrible a rod you cut to pieces, moreover also with nettles burned? unless from the presumption of fervent love, which from the depths of your heart through the wounds of your flesh bubbled up? Undertake therefore now from henceforth, as it shall please you, whatever instruments of torments to your hands shall come; since so great from the Lord of life and spirit liberty you have obtained, that to all things contrary to your body yourself insuperable you show; nor is it fitting that henceforth your liberty by another's conscience be judged.

CHAPTER III.

On the hair-shirt, the hose, and the hair stockings, and the three chains, and the stone bed.

Chapter V.

Therefore with the aforesaid scourges furrowed and bloodied our Arnulf, and remaining unconquered; underneath to his flesh he put on a hair-shirt, He uses hair-cloth garments, a thorax, lest anything less than Bl. Arnulf the Bishop of Metz in this part he be said to have done; who, as in his Deeds is read, with a hair-shirt was clothed. But if with a hair-shirt he was clothed, not however hair-hose on his legs, and hair-stockings on his feet is he described to have worn; whereas to our Martyr, neither hose, nor stockings of this kind are most certainly said to have been lacking. But as often as from the grange where he dwelt, breeches, and stockings. on the Lord's nights, or even on the Saints' festivities, to the monastery on foot to go he wished; not however therefore did he omit, but that stockings he carried on his feet, although in walking his feet by their roughness not a little were injured.

[18] But when with a hair-shirt sufficiently rough, which of finer little cords of hairs was woven, first to use he was wont; Something more horrid, of hairs he weaves, he began that hair-shirt's roughness as if for nothing to hold, because to wear in some way sweet and less pricking it seemed to him: and moved with great indignation against his flesh, he thought with sharper injuries to exacerbate it. And when from such thoughts to desist he was unwilling, lest the fervor of his heart even a little should seem to grow tepid; he took horse-hairs, and secretly from them coarse cords twisting, bound together with bands, rough exceedingly and to see horrible, for his body he made a garment. With which when he was clothed, so rigid and insensible around his body, so to speak, stood that same garment, that by no means to either part to bend himself, or downward to incline could he. Which when the master of the grange had discovered, which being taken away he resumes these, a religious man and of all good men a friend, Sygerus by name; fearing lest the beast of that man's body under so great a burden should fail, by a certain cunning the deceived [man] he beguiled, and from him the unbearable torment took away: he indeed grieving, that sweet to him was taken away the hair-shirt, from that day and in the rest the same hair-shirts, which before to use he had been wont, he used. Furthermore if anyone asks, in what manner and how often, whether frequently or rarely, the hair-shirt, the hose, and the stockings he used; let him acknowledge that this kind of garments with so indissoluble a bond to his flesh he coupled, that them almost at all times he used. For it was not difficult for him to have at hand these hair garments; since by a certain religious man, who to him familiar was, the same woven often to him were ministered.

[19] But thinking the unconquered soldier, what still to his flesh, to heap up torment, he might apply; three iron chains he acquired for himself, and in the name of the Holy Trinity, to the aforesaid trinity, and a triple chain to his body, that is, the hair-shirt, the hose, and the stockings, a trinity of chains associating, the first chain through the middle of his shoulder-blades and under his armpits, on each part across before his breast, he wound around, and with it bound himself: the second chain, from the back through the middle of his belly, exhibited itself as a certain girdle: the third indeed, placed around his loins, its office also fulfilled. But these chains to his flesh, as it pleased, either more strongly or more loosely he bound. John saw in his Apocalypse a man girt about the breast with a golden belt; but we with ocular faith something greater beheld, a marvelous man strongly bound about the breast with an iron chain, to repress noxious thoughts, which from the heart arise; about the belly with a second chain he was girded, that the concupiscence of the gullet he might repress; the third about his loins, that the lust's motions he might curb. This is the threefold cord not linen, but iron; which the stronger, the more difficult to break. With the aforesaid chains therefore that the man of the Lord was girt, and that them for a long time he carried, most certainly is recorded.

Chapter VI.

[20] After the triumphs of the preceding torments, desiring still the soldier of Christ in the works of his soldiery to renew the standards, and to change the marvels; Often also with the skins of hedgehogs, he dared something great to attempt, which among his other deeds with many praises is to be extolled. For he sought for himself the skins of hedgehogs, now more, now indeed fewer, according as them to hand he could have; which so marvelously he used, that their spines to his flesh without hesitation applying, with many punctures he pierced it. And lest his flesh of the aforesaid skins' punctures longer should be defrauded, he asked the shepherds of the sheep, that as often as hedgehogs, whether in the woods, or in the thickets, or elsewhere they found, flaying them, the skins to him as a gift they should bring: one also of his intimates this kind of skins sometimes procured for him. And although a certain we have not designated number of skins; let them acknowledge nevertheless the present and future, that eleven skins he had; of which together bound, as if a certain garment of skin making, six on his breast and on each side, five indeed on his back fixed he carried; the hair-shirt over putting on, and with a girdle it to his body binding, lest perchance the skins from his flesh should be loosened. The same skins for a long time he bore, which however at his pleasure, according to place and time, either he laid aside or resumed.

[21] the license for this being obtained by entreaty from his Abbots, Some perhaps may marvel and say, that much, and more than much indiscreet were those Abbots, who suffered that man hedgehog skins, to see and to touch horrible, to his body to apply, and with the other instruments himself beyond measure to afflict. To whom satisfying we answer, that to this blessed man, who under four Abbots, namely the Lord Charles, Conrad, Walter, and William, strongly to the Lord did soldier service, those same Abbots license of applying to his body torments gave; but to him again sometimes forbade, fearing lest under so many and so great martyrdoms he should fail; but he, strong for all things asserting himself, in season and out of season the license withdrawn from him again from them extorted. For they saw in him a privileged in some way grace of enduring; nor could they him from themselves repel, and contradict the words of the just; because he was strengthened by God in the days of his contest, nor in any way failed. If we should wish in order to turn over the old and new Testament, we shall not be able to find anyone, who either with holly rods, or prickly hedgehog skins his body has martyred, except this blessed man.

[22] By the relation of blessed Pope Gregory we have learned, that the most holy father of monks Benedict, hiding in a cave was found by shepherds, with skins * clothed: to whom although to compare we do not presume our martyr; we say nevertheless, that his skins from the skins of that same blessed father far were dissimilar. those acknowledging in him a greater grace of God, And certainly if the skins of each today ought by many for clothing to be chosen; all (as we think) would choose the skins of St. Benedict, and spurning would anathematize the skins of Brother Arnulf. And what marvel, if skins so terribly prickly with even mind he sustained? who mindful of the Lord's passions, his sins, the day of judgment, and the torments of hell, before the eyes of his heart often had? who, from when to the Order he came, by his own testimony, his own will never fulfilled? who all the affections of his heart to God turned? than we read of other Saints. who in good things to be consummated proposing, to God gave skin for skin, the skin of his wretched flesh for the glorious skin of the resurrection? Besides it must be known, that as often as, after spending in good works and holy prayers the space of the daylight, himself in his little bed to repose he gave, not without hair-shirt, hose and stockings, and the aforesaid skins, this to do he was wont.

Chapter VII.

[23] Because of his little bed mention has fallen, it must be known, that His bed of stones and staves, he himself for himself a little bed, not flowery, but horrid; not of straws, but of stones flat and great, that in it he might repose, built: and over those stones, certain hard staves he placed; and so finally over the staves a woolen sack-cloth, that his body's torment he might conceal, he spread. And lest his head also anywhere of the participation of discomfort should be defrauded, at the head of the bed a stone great he placed, no pillow at all under his head having, as the other Brothers of his. the bed's covering; But of so great a bond a pact with his little bed he had made, that scarcely all nights himself from it to be distanced he suffered: but yet, that he once in another bed on a certain night rested we have heard. When that Monk, of whom above mention we made, who to him familiar was, on a certain night was in the grange, where he dwelt, and in a house adjoining the dormitory of the Brothers, both together spoke; the more familiarly the more secretly, conversations of the goods of the Lord, or of the usefulness of souls, or of their secrets to one another they conferred. But when some part of the night talking they had passed, yet once he lay more softly, urgently asked, and the man of the Lord that to repose to go he wished said; the Monk said to him; "Dear Brother Arnulf, remain here this night with me, if so it shall please you: that, because I am alone, my solitude from your fellowship to me more tolerable may be made." But he, somewhat silent: "With willing," he said, "mind I will do what you ask, but I think not that to many others in this matter I would consent: for a long time has passed, since in this grange so familiar a pittance of rest to my body I have not granted, as

this night to it I am about to give." To this the Monk answered: "Dear Brother, I give you kindly license; for I do not wish that any soul, of your help needing, any detriment for my sake should suffer." To whom he, "By no means," he said, "because the honor and consolation, which for the cause of your petition this night to my body I shall exhibit, with greater torments afterward to it I will recompense."

[24] These things said, Compline being said, to the rest of their beds both turned themselves. The Monk when he wished him with cloaks and other garments to cover, fearing, lest perchance by the excessive cold of winter he be injured; he a little smiling, the garments wholly cast off, moreover also when a pillow under his head he placed, threw it away. The Monk indeed, because exceeding cold it was, but without covering. as is premised, with many garments covering himself, scarcely the cold escaped. But the man of the Lord, at the face of the cold not trembling, his body, with a tunic only and hair-shirt clothed, drew together, and in some way balled up; and in the short covering of his cope himself wrapping, a little sleep of rest he tasted; and so rising from sleep, his prayers up to the Brothers' vigils he prolonged. Let us consider now the marvelous scrupulosity of the man of God, who in this that for a small part only of one night upon adorned; in this, I say, honor and consolation to his body he asserted that he gave. From these and similar things we can gather, that what to others consolation is, to him desolation was; and what others desolation to themselves assert, he his consolation reckoned; fleeing what many desire, and desiring what many flee.

NOTES

* Chapter 1.

CHAPTER IV.

His manner of food, sleep, clothing, full of harshness.

Chapter VIII.

[25] But when at a certain time he dwelt with three or four Brothers, Having obtained solitude Arnulf, in a certain little dwelling, which a rich man, Uppo by name, to the Lord of Villers had freely conferred in possession; delighted by that place's solitude, that more secretly and more freely there he might afflict himself, a great something beyond his custom to undertake he dared; namely that with black and most rough bread, which the dogs were wont to eat, and with pottages for two or three days kept he should feed. But when that bread to his will he could not have (which however rarely happened) with black and coarse bread, with which the household of the house fed, he refreshed himself. And when those pottages long kept greatly stank, he feeds on dog's bread and stinking pottage, so that the eater in some way more to vomiting provoked, than the eater's stomach refreshed; the marvelous man forcing himself, to his stomach as if being indignant, said: "Why at the food, which to you I offer, are you indignant? Hard is it for you against the goad to kick: will or nill, insipid you must taste foods, otherwise I will fight against you, unless my blessing you receive." So, so, by the mediating grace of Christ, the ministry which to his belly he exhibited, so untiringly he led into custom, for a whole three years. that for three years and more on such foods he fed. And what marvel, if to his bodily belly so unalterably injurious he was, who the belly of his soul with the delicate banquets of paradise copiously, according to the grace given to him, to fill was wont? But with prudent counsel this he did, because the madness of the belly is worse than all evils, and all the soul's virtues by the vice of gluttony are destroyed.

[26] But at other times, from the beginning of his conversion and thereafter, Before, on common food sparingly, at all times the same foods, with which the Brothers' Convent fed, he used; so that measure in eating he kept, and the rights of discretion did not lose. But yet sometimes according to the time, now more now less, his body in taking food he consulted, knowing that without refreshment his body to subsist impossible was. But for some years before his death, no pittance at all, except bread and pottages or fruits of trees, for food to take he consented. at the end of his life content with bread and pottage, Nor is it a marvel. For he who his body wholly had broken and subjected to servitude, that he should not obey his body, but his body should obey him; and who both in soul and body himself to God wholly had given, just indeed it was, that with the food of supernal grace, both in soul and body he should be nourished; since it is written; "That not in bread alone lives man, unless once the Abbot sent him a pittance. but in every word which proceeds from the mouth of God." Matt. 4:4 When however to him once by the Abbot was sent a pittance, the rigor of his abstinence he intermitted, and that same pittance with thanksgiving ate; prepared always to obey, if that to be done more often had happened.

[27] But he drank at all times fairly sparingly; at the hours only in which he ate, for after food either rarely or never to drink was he wont. Outside the hour of refreshment greatly thirsting, Sometimes also greatly thirsting, an earthen vessel with water poured to his mouth he brought, not that he might drink, but that the gullet's desire he might irritate: and although his throat from the dryness of thirst not a little was tortured; he strove however the prudent man the inconvenience of thirst patiently to tolerate, than the state of his voluntary liberty to change; by the example of a certain Hermit, who when he hungered, before his eyes a cucumber hung, that in its sight by the avidity of eating he might be allured; but yet to taste he was unwilling, lest of abstinence the merit he be deprived. To be considered therefore by us it is, water to his mouth he brings only, he does not drink. with how marvelous a work that man contrary to himself was; who to his belly foods, which he abhorred, violently thrust in; and to his throat, although vehemently thirsting, a little drink of water to minister scorned.

Chapter IX.

[28] But the manner of his labor we have learned to have been such. At the first time of his conversion, Held exempt from manual work, whatever of labor to him was enjoined, with even mind he carried out, going out and returning at his Master's command. This however must be known, that never to hard whatever labors to attend was he ordered, since he no or little outside in the world an art had learned, in which afterward in the Order, that he might have leisure for prayer and penances, as is the custom, to be involved he would be compelled. But in the process of time, when now his hand he had put to strong things, and by the mediating grace of the Lord many things did to human nature altogether repugnant, by the permission of his Masters with so great liberty he was endowed, that from almost all offices and occupations absolved, either to the salutary leisures of divine contemplation given, both in body and mind he rested, or to devout prayers attended, or even with blows his body chastised.

[29] He interpolates the night with prayers, as more apt for them. But of what kind his vigils and sleep were, also briefly must be insinuated. When still in his bed reposed; a little sleep being completed, awakened, he was wont some prayers to ruminate; so that by the importunate whisper of them a certain Brother's, Balduin by name, who in the other bed beside him slept, sometimes sleep he interrupted. But afterward that Brother accosting him; "Brother," he said, "Arnulf, what has it seemed to you, that, others sleeping, you do not sleep; moreover also the rest of sleep with your clamorous prayers from me you take away." To this he, with a joke quite gracious enough, answered: "Do not marvel over my vigils, Brother mine, for you know, that our God in the daytime hours more is occupied than at night; and therefore at night I keep vigil giving leisure to him, that he may attend to the voice of prayer of mine, and hear me." When these things he said, indeed thus he said, because the Lord himself much more frequently in the day time than at night, by many prayers of many, tears and desires, whether for the necessities of bodies, or for the salvation of souls is appealed to; who however in disposing all things, to no mutability at all is subject, that in human manner by labor or occupation he be wearied; but always quiet remaining, to all as to one, and to one as to all attends; and according to the good pleasure of his will, all things, which by the compass of heaven and earth are contained, guards and governs; nor of another's help has need, who from eternity omnipotent is alone.

[30] The marvelous manner of his sleep and vigils. With how great zeal therefore, and with how great industry the blessed man labored, to this that sleep he might overcome, let us hear him about himself relating in this manner; "I," he said, "when somewhat than usual more robust to keep vigil I feel myself, impart sleep to my eyes, and as much as it shall please me I sleep. But when by the exaction of sleep I feel myself disturbed, on the contrary sleep from my eyes violently I shake off, that even that same sleep, as often as I wish, I reduce into captivity." Plainly so it was; and just as he said, so also he did. But as much as without great detriment of his body he could, in the night hours to prayers and vigils he gave effort. But it seems perhaps strange to some, how sleep with his eyes he could take, when in garment he was clothed, full of worms, with the skins of hedgehogs, by which vehemently he was pricked. To whom it must be answered, that by the compelling daily and long-lasting fatigue of his body, easily into the sleep of rest he was loosed. Why should he not easily fall asleep, who under such discomforts the grace of sleeping, nay also of keeping vigil beyond the strength of his body had? Hence it is, that when in the monastery on the Lord's nights, or also other festivities, vigils he attended, either never or little he dozed; but keeping vigil the intention of his devout heart to God diligently he directed. But for some years before his death, at the hour of those vigils, apart outside the Convent of the Brothers he stood, and with so long-lasting the beginning of the vigils up to the end, either never, or little he sat.

Chapter X.

[31] To marvelous things marvelous things succeed; which stupor to the hearers may strike. Let us hear therefore how contrary a medicine to his body this new

physician exhibited in the time of winter. In winter content with a simple tunic, When the rest with two or three tunics, with sheepskins, to repel the cold used; he on the contrary with a single tunic, a tunic I say the older one which he had, was clothed. Nor is it a marvel: for he who within was warmed by the fire of the Holy Spirit, without for nothing held the torments of cold. But if perchance it had happened, that the winter chill than usual harsher had bristled; while the rest their limbs with much clothing fortified around, he refusing to stand at the coals with Peter, and to warm himself, followed manfully the Lord Christ to the passion; nor in any way on account of the cold of sloth did he omit his purpose, but that the earth of his body he plowed with the plowshare of discipline; lest with the slothful afterward to beg, from the fire he abstains: in the summer of the coming judgment, he be compelled. And although greatly by the harshness of cold he was vexed, so that outwardly in his face pale and bloodless he appeared; never however the warming-room he entered, that his body by the benefit of fire he might revive, unless perchance for the cause of arriving Brothers, who to him familiar were, that to do for him it had happened. Sometimes also in winter after the Brothers' vigils, when before dawn those same Brothers hemp stripping, sat at the fire, and the man of the Lord sat with them: not that his cold body he might warm, but that with the rest a similar work he might do.

[32] But in the summer time, the sun to the heights of heaven ascending, in summer he multiplies his clothes, and fiery over the earth diffusing heats; when almost everyone with a single tunic, on account of the summer's fervor, was clothed; he on the contrary much more warmly clothed himself, that by greater heat he might be afflicted. And so while these and many other discomforts of his body he sustained; not however thereby so pusillanimous he was made, that the rest and solace of the infirmary he needed; since he himself carrying the Lord, by the Lord was carried. Do what you do, work what you work, servant of Christ: let it not be a care to you if anyone deride and laugh at you, a despiser of human judgment. if anyone your marvelous acts with the vice of hypocrisy pretense obscuring, with viperous mouth bite and tear. Run to your Christ, through glory and ignobility, through infamy and good fame; nor by weariness overcome, to whatever afflictions of the body bid farewell; until happy perseverance you obtain, because not worthy are the sufferings of this time in comparison with the future glory.

CHAPTER V.

On the affliction, which he inflicted on himself through Lent, with an iron cuirass added.

Chapter XI.

[33] Let us hear besides what a marvelous to himself this just man passion inflicted, and in this passion how acceptable to God a sacrifice he offered. Through Lent from Terce to Vespers, At a certain time, when the forty sacred days of fasting were at hand, in which all the faithful with greater than custom labors of penance to afflict themselves, and more at length to prayer to attend are wont; our athlete, lest less he should do than he was wont to do, the accustomed to his body strove to double the torment. From the beginning indeed of Lent, up to the day of the Lord's Resurrection, always on the ferial days, from morning up to Terce to prayer he gave leisure. But after Terce, his tunic, hair-shirt, and hose being cast off, up to the evening Hour, naked altogether he remained in the chamber; and (as is aforesaid) with holly he struck himself, wound upon wound, in whatever place of his body the hand of the striker had found his flesh with many goads pierced, in many places was bloodied. But on Saturdays, from morning up to the sixth Hour, naked remaining, himself as is said by scourging he martyred, because on those same days, according to custom, to the monastery for the cause of divine service he was wont to go. In those days winter strong was, by whose colds, as by sharpest arrows, all his limbs pierced through, immovable he persevered; although from the excessive harshness of winter, in the manner of one feverish, wholly with trembling he was shaken, and his teeth to one another were dashed.

[34] the household secretly observing his wounds, But he had one cell in the orchard of the grange, where at his pleasure frequently shut up, the aforesaid work, a holy work and worthy of blessing, not only on these forty days, but also at other times, with all alacrity of spirit he fulfilled. And although that more secretly he did, yet altogether to be concealed it could not, but that by the Brothers of that place or by the household of the house the frequent blows of his scourging were heard. It must be known that as often as himself with scourges he struck, mindful of his brothers and intimates, as if to himself conversing, he said; "I must act strongly, must act manfully; manfully, I say, must act: because very necessary it is for my friends: mindful individually of those dear to him, " and he added; "These blows and these, for those and for those, I inflict on myself, in the name of the Lord." And then strongly himself scourging, by name he commemorated some of his brothers, now indeed some of his friends, now indeed religious women beloved to him in Christ, for whom either grace and remission of sins, or relief in tribulations, from the Lord to be transmitted he besought. But when himself longer sometimes he scourged, his arms greatly were wearied, and then him to repose a little it behoved; then his strength being repaired to the begun work he persisted, nor thus ever did he fail.

[35] How long with most strong cold will you suffer yourself to be frozen, blessed Martyr of the Lord? with marvelous perseverance why also with so long-lasting blows do you weary yourself? The board now has been struck for None. We beseech therefore you, rise quickly, and clothe yourself with your garments; lest perchance by so indiscreet an affliction of cold and blows an intolerable trouble of sickness you incur. For you ought to know, that the Lord of majesty, when he hung on the wood of the cross at the ninth Hour, with the triumph of the consummated passion, his head being bowed, gave up the spirit. "True it is," said he; "true it is what I hear: but yet up to Vespers he hung on the wood; and then from the wood being taken down, he was buried in a tomb. Therefore I also from this cross will not be taken down, until the board be struck for Vespers." Hence it must be attended, with how holy and with how strong an obstinacy against the comfort of his body this man fought, who almost even up to the breathing-out of the soul tortured, the fight which he had begun did not leave. The board therefore being struck for Vespers, on all days his garments he resumed, and the due task of his service, according to the Order's custom, to the Lord paying, that his lacerated body he might refresh, to the table with the Brothers he came.

Chapter XII.

[36] And why, dearest Brothers, so admirable and unheard-of a penance of the just man above mentioned do we marvel; since, from the beginning of his conversion ever his penance grew, while to marvelous things more marvelous succeeded? For in the year preceding his happy death, when now too long worn down he was by torments, nor yet to spare himself proposed, but that to the last some penal instrument to his flesh he should apply; he thought to do certain things, whence greatly he might be wearied. For he took for himself a cuirass of iron, with dense scales chained together, which from and it to the flesh he put on; that, when from the humor of the flesh rust it contracted, more pricking and rougher it might be felt. Then taking the skins of hedgehogs on the cuirass he placed, so that the spines of them through the holes of the scales to the flesh passed, and it vehemently pricked. But if perchance to the right side or left sometimes himself to turn it had happened; then the aforesaid spines, between the scales slanted, and more closely in the flesh raging, a more penal than usual torment to him produced. At last the hair-shirt being drawn over the skins, to his body, by the bond of a girdle it he bound. But sometimes at his pleasure the aforesaid work either less or sharper he exercised.

[37] O truly a warrior renowned and victorious! to whom it did not suffice, his body, now from days many tamed, marvelously he is tortured, with a cuirass to clothe, and the cuirass's iron hardness to feel, unless skins, to see and to touch horrible, outwardly on the cuirass he placed. But he placed also a hair-shirt, and is wholly discolored. that by the cuirass's weight and rigor, by the spines' punctures and pain, and by the hair-shirt's binding, as if by a tripled martyrdom, days and nights, with trouble of body, but with all benevolence and hilarity of heart, he might pass. Cant. 1:4 But from this that the cuirass longer he bore, his flesh greatly blackened is reported to have been; so that, according to what in the amatory song the Bride says, he too deservedly to say could; "Black I am, but beautiful, daughters of Jerusalem. Black by the bitterness of the pressures, which by voluntary liberty I sustain; but beautiful by the radiant adornment of virtues, which by the Lord's helping grace I possess." Ib. 1:5, And likewise, "Do not consider me that I am dark, because the sun has discolored me," that is Christ the Lord, my beloved, white and ruddy: the sun indeed true, whose ardor of love me with scourges and afflictions to be discolored made in body; whose likewise love within colors me in mind. Plainly so it was. Colored indeed he was within in soul, by the illustration of heavenly grace; discolored indeed in body, by the manifold affliction of torments; but he will be recolored much more gloriously in the universal and blessed resurrection of the bodies, when all the assemblies of the Saints, in distinct orders will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father, when all the people of God will be, and God himself with them will be their God.

[38] In the aforesaid afflictions therefore of the blessed man there is proposed to many matter of corporal afflictions to sustain; He will have few imitators, but few, as we think, he will have as emulators; because it is familiar to the sons of Adam, to seek their own comforts. Let them attend therefore now all, all the pains of the body, which he from the beginning of his conversion, up to his death, endured; and in his holy conversation, as in a certain most bright mirror, to see through they will be able, how small are in comparison with his sufferings, those things which they themselves for Christ the Lord suffer. For from his mouth we heard, and that it is true we believe, whose penitential instruments, he asserting it, that seven men the corporal afflictions scarcely would sustain, of which by the helping grace of the Lord he triumphed, always remaining whole in body, nor the infirmary's solace needing or rest; who at all times in the refectory of the Holy Spirit, the food of heavenly grace to taste was wont. For it is no marvel if his own body he did not spare, but to the continual cross handed it over; since he recalled; that God the Father his own son did not spare, but for himself the world to redeem handed him over. But that more and more his manifold victories to the world I may declare, who him before the rest of the recruits of these times into the superlative grade of holy probity already have raised; behold we offer all the instruments of his afflictions, to all Religious of whatever they are Order, that they may experience, how sweet it is and how salutary, with so great and so long-lasting martyrdoms to be afflicted. But behold, to all they strike horror when they are seen. all the abyss (so to speak) of a certain

death abhorring, the aforesaid instruments, which both in sight and in touch are horrible, because they seem to have saw-like beaks, altogether reject; and struck by fear, flee from them, as from the face of a serpent. Since therefore there is no one, who them inseparably to take up would dare, we to our martyr safe and intact return them, since to many unbearable they seem.

[39] At last now, having described in a simple style, and made known, as much as with the Lord helping we could, the corporal afflictions of this Blessed, with his instruments, the Lord Savior in him we magnify, who him in the new contest with privileged grace strengthened, and with happy nevertheless crowned perseverance. Now therefore, because to this former little book an end the matter unfolded demands, before to the virtues and revelations, or his other deeds to be discoursed we come, a little let us breathe.

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

Arnulf's highest charity toward all.

[1] Fervent with charity he is visited by many, Since after the manifold storms of the sea, and the long-lasting navigation, our sailor now almost to the quiet station of the harbor unharmed we have led; it remains, that those things which about him the following matter offers to be reported, into the midst we bring forth. That therefore from charity, which of all the virtues holds the principate, we may take our beginning; it must be said, how fervent the blessed man in his heart possessed charity. For when anyone by the suffrages of his prayers himself with the Lord's clemency to be helped sought; he, with the bowels of mercy overflowing, most ready himself to help his necessity showed, saying; "Gladly I will pray for you:" and (as we ourselves with our ears heard) sometimes to the pledge of his prayers he added a certain word, worthy of memory: "I," he said, "greater things will give than I promise." whom with pious admonitions he instructs, sometimes even inspecting consciences: Plainly so it was. For that no one from himself he might repel, but with long liberality the alms of his prayers in the bosom of any afflicted, who of spiritual suffrage stood in need, he might hide; with all the efforts both of mind and of body to their affairs, now with tearful prayers, now with the afflictions of scourging, ready he came to aid. So great indeed the innocence of his mind and the sincerity of his manners was, that in the manner of a little child among his brothers living, to no one at all did he detract, to no one occasion of scandal did he give; but of all his neighbors, even of those who derided him, the peace irreprehensibly he kept. He exhibited therefore to all charity, knowing that as much as each soul shall have been broad in the love of its neighbor, so much high it will be in the knowledge of God. He knew nevertheless, that as without a way no one comes whither he tends; so without charity, which is called the way, men cannot walk, but err. For charity is the sweet and salutary bond of minds, without which the rich man is poor; and with which the poor man is rich; through which with all goods the blessed man abounded.

[2] But the fame of his sanctity and of his ardent charity so far around itself diffused, that very many from diverse places, even some Knights, who in the neighborhood of the grange dwelt, to him for the cause of seeing him came, and to his prayers themselves commended. To whom he certain things, which to them were to come, foretold; which they afterward in themselves experienced. For sometimes he interrupted his sweet with his God colloquies for the cause of guests, who to see him flowed together; and just as Bl. Benedict commands in his Rule, that there be read before a guest the divine law for edification, so our scholar to guests, both familiar to him and strangers, read sometimes also the books of the consciences of certain persons, and by the same spirit for friends with the pen of the devil with foul letters written and corrupted, with the bright eye of his mind inspecting; urging him charity, not seeking the things which are its own, as far as possible to him it was, the deadly from them writing, with the chisel of holy exhortation or devout prayer, to erase he took care. And although he himself, with many adorned virtues, marvelous things did; yet altogether in himself he had trampled vainglory; so that wholly in his heart there was not where might enter vanity, where wholly had occupied charity. Is not fire charity? It is indeed most ardent. Hence it is that from that fire, with which burned his heart, drops of blood ruddy, in the likeness of fire, as certain sparks, from his body frequently leaped out.

[3] And what in him so excellently did very many venerate and embrace, he makes rigid penances. except the dear rarity, namely the rare charity of God and of neighbor? Deservedly indeed. For not from corporal affliction charity, but from charity his corporal proceeded affliction: and therefore easily it can be weighed, that although much greater than he tolerated, he had endured torments of body, they to him without charity could not profit to salvation; as says the blessed Apostle: "If I shall deliver my body so that I burn, but charity I have not, nothing to me it profits." 1 Cor. 13:3 And that evidently we may acknowledge, how large was his charity; let us recall those marvelous and horrible passions of his body, He greatly compassionates the poor and sinners, which on all the days of Lent charitably and especially, for his Brothers and his friends, men and women religious, he sustained; so that for the salvation of all of them himself wholly to the Lord in sacrifice he offered. But with so great compassion of mind to relieve the indigence of the poor he was moved, that to their calamities himself another Martin, unless by the laws of the Order he were restrained, he would have exhibited. With so great piety nevertheless of those sinning he grieved over the errors, that not without trouble of heart, those into the gulf of vices precipitated to hear he could. Whence also he said, that he wished himself for money to be sold, and given into the power of the Saracens, or even his members piece by piece to be cut, only that to the necessities of the poor to the full it might be succored; and that sinners, the darkness of ignorance and infidelity being left, to the true light, namely Christ the Lord, might be converted.

Chapter II.

[4] But if anyone shall wish to reprehend his words, namely that sometimes about himself certain things as if boastingly he uttered, which the rays of his luminous conversation with a certain cloud of hypocrisy to blacken might seem; we, of the simple intention of his heart presuming, him as a man of God, simple and innocent, excused hold. In the following chapter therefore a marvelous something, which to his charity pertains, must be told. At a certain time, when in the grange, whose name is Sart, he dwelt; this office was imposed on him, that with an attendant joined to him, Carrying as many sacks empty as as often as need was, the crops placed in sacks to the monastery he should cart; and again in the same sacks loaves, which to the Brothers of the grange on certain days through the week might suffice, he should bring back. It happened that he on a certain day, with the cart with crops laden, to the monastery had come; and when before the mill, the sacks of crops being emptied, his cart he had unloaded; with that same cart to the nearest grange, which Nova-curia is called, he set out. Where when the business, for which thither he was going, he had completed; also two pigs, which by his Prelate licensed, to give to the poor he had proposed, in two sacks enclosing, the mouths of the sacks he tied, and them in the cart being placed to the monastery he returned.

[5] the enclosed pigs, to be given to the poor, And when now to the gate of the monastery he was approaching, those same pigs, as restless animals, importunately grunted; fearing the man of God, lest perchance anyone by this kind of occasion into suspicion should fall; to the brute animals, as if using reason, he spoke, saying: "Hear, pigs; hear my words. If it displeases in the eyes of the Lord, that not, as I have proposed, into the uses of the poor you I spend, have license of grunting, as also you do; but if it is pleasing and acceptable to my God, that through me of your flesh the greedy hunger of the poor be refreshed; I command you in the name of our God Jesus Christ, that wholly from this importunate grunting you cease." A marvelous thing! At once those pigs, which long and much within the sacks had cried out, the commander's adjuration and command obeying, to grunt ceased. Then the man of God, the pigs being silent, the monastery entered, and to the bakery he proceeded; where his sacks with loaves he filled. Which when it had been done, and those same sacks upon the pigs were thrown, he forbids them to grunt, even weighed down with the burden thrown on, who in the two sacks enclosed were held; in a marvelous manner, as if dead they were, to be incited to grunting by no means could they; since our omnipotent God, who at the prayers of his servant them in some way made to be mute, not except by his permission, the natural to them grunting restored. The cart therefore with loaves laden on his way he set out: and when now far removed he was from the wall of the monastery, to his pigs license of grunting, as before they were wont, by a word he restored. Who at once, with their accustomed restlessness a cry emitting, until to the grange it was come, to grunt and with cries to rage did not cease: and those same pigs, as he had proposed, to the poor he gave.

Chapter III.

[6] Now to his humility and patience let us bend the pen, that it may become known to all, He excels in humility how humble and how patient that Blessed was. With a simple and uniform honesty of manners outwardly adorned, with liberal affability, honeyed piety, and spiritual alacrity, to each one according to his manner himself conforming, himself to all gracious and amiable he showed. Small indeed he was in his own eyes, that he might be great in the eyes of the Lord: knowing, that he who to himself is vile, before God is great: and he who to himself displeases, to God pleases. and in patience. So much therefore he was before God more precious, the more before his own eyes more despised. Deservedly indeed: since humility is the virtue, by which a man by truest knowledge of himself to himself becomes vile. But if anyone him for any matter with a reproachful word had struck, by no means by it could he be exacerbated: because humility, which is the greatest virtue of the Saints, within the secret place of his mind unshaken and unblemished keeping; it by the exterior habit of his body, patiently humble, and humbly patient.

[7] For if to marvel we should wish, to marvel we suffice not, how that man, among so many and so great afflictions of his body, as if in a certain hell placed, humility and patience to have, and in an example to declare to the world could; when many up to today, not to say under strong afflictions of bodies, but under slight occupations, on a light occasion, their humility and patience to lose seem. But omnipotent God, who the first beginnings of the conversation of his servant by the privilege of his grace to sublimate began; he afterward that same grace so powerfully in him strengthened, that humility and patience more and more in him both within and without was augmented: whence also many gave of his holy conversation testimony, that never had anyone seen him angry or moved. For how easily to indignation could he be moved, or to wrath provoked, who the God of peace and love, within the flowery chamber of his heart, always as inhabitant had admitted. That therefore openly to all

it may become known, that humble and patient he was, of his patience and humility a brief we subjoin example.

[8] When the monastery of Villers was presided over by a certain Abbot, By the Abbot's license distributing 42 loaves, a friend of all good men; the man of the Lord more secretly asked from that same Abbot, that loaves, in number forty-two, it might be lawful for him to give to the needy. The Abbot indeed, as a merciful man, who with the straits of the poor from the marrow compassionated, with all benevolence his petition granted. He indeed, as more secretly he could, the aforesaid loaves to the needy distributed. But because nothing is hidden which sometimes is not revealed, he was accused with the Abbot, that loaves many he had given to the poor. Summoned by the Abbot before the Brothers about a deed of this kind; that licensed he had done it, for a double cause to make public he was unwilling; namely on account of the scandal of the Brothers to be avoided, and lest afterward the large license of the pious Abbot should be defrauded; but as if guilty and a transgressor of the order, all to the Abbot he promised amendment. Then the Abbot, lest to many an occasion of scandal be given, if this deed unpunished were left; to the monastery's gate the man of God to be ejected commanded. But ejected, the cell which is between the two gates, for a dwelling he had: where in the sight of all confusion voluntarily sustaining, and thence accused he accepts a penance. with the same countenance and the same mind joyful in thanksgiving for eleven days he persevered, with a joke quite gracious the gladness of his heart demonstrating, and saying: "O how happy am I; how well with me it goes, because with Bl. Peter a doorkeeper I am made!"

[9] For as long as there he tarried, great discomfort of cold having endured, great frequently from the Lord consolation he obtained. On a certain night, when he was alone, and his heart to God directed; suddenly a heaped-up, so to speak, Having received from the Mother of God the little Jesus into his arms measure of the Lord's grace from above he received. And lo the Virgin Mary standing by him, her son whom in her arms she carried, offered him to embrace. Then he, whose soul vehemently melted was within, scarcely the infusion of grace, with which imbued he felt himself, to bear able, dancing and with hands clapping, as if drunk, began from Virgin Mother to say; "Take from me, Lady, your son, I beseech, take him; because the grace of that same your son, which now I have, suffices me." Then with great jubilation of heart exclaiming; "O you," he said, "all who God love, come hither, if God to have you desire." And he added, often crying; "God is here: God is here: Come, come, come hither all, that God you may find." But the attendant of the Monk doorkeeper, for 11 days he exults with marvelous jubilation. and certain others, who not yet to bed had gone, at the same hour, namely after the twilight of night, hearing him in this manner vociferating and jubilating, from grief of heart and emptying of head, that to him this had happened they thought. But he, who his heart had fixed in the heavens, and all, which to him could be inflicted, confusion wholly had trampled, so to say, with the foot of humility; not much about judgments cared human. At last after eleven days, in gladness and exultation, to the Brothers' Convent he was restored. But the admirable savor of heavenly grace, which on the aforesaid night from heaven he had drawn, so abundantly through all the marrow of his soul itself diffused; that afterward almost for forty days, as often as he ate or drank, all the foods' and drinks' savors, to his mouth's palate insipid were rendered. That same likewise at other times, many times to him to have happened, there is no doubt.

CHAPTER II.

Arnulf's obedience, prayer, devotion toward the Mother of God.

Chapter IV.

[10] Since those things which to his charity, humility, and patience pertain, Ready to obedience, already are premised; also about his obedience something briefly must be subjoined: because, as says Bl. Gregory, obedience alone is, which the other virtues into the mind inserts, and inserted keeps. This the just man, from the first beginnings of his conversion up to the day of his happy in Christ falling-asleep, so manfully held, that without reprehension among his Brothers he lived, and both to his masters and to his equals obedience, to all things most ready, he rendered. But if ever it had happened, that from all outside affairs disoccupied, in the chamber of contemplation, praying to himself and his God he gave leisure; and meanwhile him for some cause one of the Brothers called; as if the voice of the Lord calling he heard, at once outside he leaped, and, so to say, cheerfully he obeys those interrupting, God for the sake of God he left; preferring to interrupt his prayer, and to fulfill the precept of obedience, than to his own will to satisfy. For the obedient man cheerfully and confidently prays; because, as through Bl. Augustine it is said, better is one prayer of the obedient, than ten thousand of the contemning. Obedience therefore is the mother of all virtues: obedience is the finder of the kingdom of heaven; obedience is heaven opening, and man from the earth raising: obedience is the co-dweller of the Angels; obedience of all the Saints is food. From this the Saints are weaned, and through this to perfection they came. Obedience therefore the prayer of the blessed man directed to heaven, which never without obedience would have come to heaven; as also a stone into the height sent, to heaven does not attain.

[11] And now since of prayer mention has been made, the manner also of his prayer in a few words to explain worthy we judge. he is permitted at pleasure to have leisure for prayer, At the first also of his conversion's time, for some years, not so much was he permitted to the rest of contemplation and prayer to give leisure, as perhaps he would have wished. But in the process of time, when he dwelt in the grange, which once from an oak wood, Quercetum was called, where for many years he dwelt; by the license of his masters, who at his holy studies smiled, permitted it was to him, that almost from all outside cares free he might dwell with himself, with the sabbath of his body having a delicate sabbath of his mind, tasting and seeing that sweet is the Lord. At all times therefore, both of summer and of winter, from morning up to the hour of Terce, to prayer he gave leisure; so great having obtained of praying grace, that for a very long time to heavenly things intent, the unconquered from prayer spirit he did not relax. For he had repelled from himself laziness and sloth, which the grace and assiduity of praying impede; mindful of the Lord Savior, who to no work so frequently and continually attended, as to prayer; so much that often he passed the night in prayer; who also, the passion being at hand, made in agony, more at length prayed. For just as the soldiers of this world, without arms to go out to war are not wont; so our soldier to the spiritual battle to proceed without prayer was not wont.

[12] Dwelling in the grange, by prayer he was strengthened; him going to the monastery or elsewhere, to which he added tears for sinners prayer accompanied; him returning thence, prayer again followed; and through most pure prayer all things useful to him by the Lord were granted, and all without doubt noxious from him were put to flight. For nothing else was to him sweet, except to cleave to God, and to put in the Lord God his hope. And when for some, who by the weight of sins were pressed, or by grave temptation or any other tribulation were straitened, the Lord more attentively he prayed; he could not himself contain, but that wholly into tears he dissolved. Sometimes also, when in prayer placed, he poured out like water his heart, before the sight of the Lord his God, and with ardent desire to the heights was raised; from the treasures of the highest goodness, with gladness of heart, abundant he brought back tears of devotion. For the virtue of his prayers, not only to the living, and to the dead, but also to the dead to have profited we believe; because some of his Brothers, namely Monks and Lay-brothers, who already from this world had migrated, to him after death returning appeared to him, and by the suffrages of his prayers, tears, and corporal afflictions, themselves with the merciful Lord to be helped sought.

[13] When therefore that marvelous man daily at the Hour of Terce an end to his prayers put, and his long beating of himself. to the ground his whole body to let down he was wont; thence rising, and deeply to the Lord inclining himself, in this manner license, so to say, of withdrawing from him he received. But as often as it was a day of dinner, from Terce up to Sext, with his right hand armed with holly (as in the preceding little book of his penance it is described) up to a copious effusion of blood, with most atrocious blows with his body he played; and amid the blows fifty times the Lord's Prayer, namely the office of the Mass, which however to discharge through the week he was not bound, most devoutly he discharged. But when it was a day of fasting; from Terce up to None, and in Lent up to the evening Hour, the aforesaid office diligently he fulfilled. And now, because not his corporal affliction, which above sufficiently is made known, but the manner of his prayer to describe we have undertaken, fittingly we can assert, that all his holy conversation in the eyes of the Lord, for prayer was reputed.

Chapter V.

[14] When in the first years of his conversion the man of venerable life had begun to heavenly meditations to attend, and his heart to God to direct; Most devoted to Bl. V. Mary, he began also of the blessed Virgin Mother a devout lover to be, the most pious attentively to venerate, and to salute frequently her most worthy of all praise; that the more fully he might obtain the Mother's grace, the more easily through the Mother he might obtain the Son's mercy. He strove also, daily with diligent meditation to revolve the seven joys, in which the most blessed Virgin while still in this world she was held, especially rejoiced. First therefore she rejoiced, when the Angel her saluting, when she had said, "Be it to me according to your word," of the Holy Spirit she conceived the Son of God. Secondly she rejoiced in the words of grace, she contemplates the joyful mysteries of her life, with which addressed her Elizabeth, when had saluted her the most blessed Virgin. Thirdly she rejoiced, when she bore without pain the Savior of the ages, a virgin before the birth, a virgin in the birth, and a virgin after the birth. Fourthly she rejoiced, when she saw the three Magi, from the borders of the East with a star as guide having gone out, the house in which with Joseph she dwelt entering, before Jesus humbly falling down, and the mystical kinds of gifts to him offering. Fifthly she rejoiced, when to that same her son, on the day of his oblation to the temple, she saw joyfully run Simeon the just, embrace between his arms the desired one, give thanks and congratulate the new boy, whom he proclaimed to be the light for the illumination of the nations; when also she heard Anna the widow, confessing to the Lord, and speaking of him to all who awaited the redemption of Israel. Sixthly she rejoiced, when she saw that same her son risen from the dead, whom a little before with many provoked injuries, hanging tearful she had seen on the gibbet of the cross. Seventhly she rejoiced, when on the fortieth after the resurrection day, raised in the clouds and the heights of the heavens, by heavenly power penetrating, with a happy gaze of her eyes, and ineffable

desire of charity she followed.

[15] These aforesaid seven joys the man of the Lord daily to memory, which she holding pleasing, she bids him also meditate on her joys in heaven, for the veneration of the glorious Virgin, was wont to recall; and in their sweet recollection greatly delighted. But wishing the most blessed Virgin the devotion of her servant with her more sublime and more happy joys to heap up; she appeared to him on a certain day, in the infirmary standing, saying to him: "Why, my Beloved, daily so much do you meditate those joys, in which in this world I was happily gladdened? Recall also those, in which now and ever incomparably I enjoy in the heavens." And she taught him, and said: "First I rejoice for this, that when I was assumed into heaven, above what I had hoped or known, nay above what can be said or estimated, greater for me the fullness excels every kind of glory of all the Saints and Angels. Secondly I rejoice for this, that, as the day from the sun, so all the heavenly Court, by my beatitude more abundantly illustrated, is gladdened. Thirdly I rejoice, for this that all the citizens of that court, obeying me, me as the mother of their King venerate. Fourthly I rejoice, for this that of the highest Majesty and mine, one is the will; and in all things whatsoever shall please my will, the highest and individual Trinity with most benign and most ready favor consents. Fifthly I rejoice, for this that according to the judgment of my will, to those serving me, in this world and in the future it is repaid. Sixthly I rejoice, for this that above the choirs of Angels exalted, by a certain special prerogative, nearest I am to the holy Trinity, and the joyful of all the Saints society I obtain. Seventhly I rejoice, for this that wholly secure I am, because my glory never will decrease, never will fail."

[16] When these things to her servant graciously she had disclosed, the most clement Virgin, and thereafter with him most familiarly she deals. bidding him farewell, from his eyes vanished. But he, by the holy of his lady and consoler admonitions strengthened, thereafter to serve her more devout was made. Moreover it must be known, that frequently to her faithful servant the Mother of mercy visibly appeared, and herself to him with so great benignity familiar showed, that as often as he some business had, so often it the most pious Virgin to her Son carried, until at last to him, awaiting, and, so to say, with the mouth of his heart gaping, from her son a morsel of heavenly grace, together with the effect of his petitions, she brought back.

NOTES.

chooses the lesser number; that this matter too under Abbot William may have been done, and the more excellent it is, the nearer to the death of the holy man it was.

b As being dwelling in a grange, where there was not the abundance of a Priest, and whence on Lord's days only and feasts one came to the monastery, for the cause of hearing Mass; during which it seems to have been the custom among the Lay-brothers, that fifty times they recited the Lord's Prayer.

CHAPTER III.

The vision of heavenly glory offered to Arnulf, and thence more frequent laughter and jubilation. The wiles of the demon overcome.

Chapter VI.

[17] When once the man of God was praying, and the present life, full of various calamities, wholly to his heart turned to disgust; To one aspiring to heavenly glory he began of all exterior things to forget, desiring ardently to be present in the choirs of the heavenly Saints; and now if it could be done, face to face the blessed of his Creator vision to enjoy. Meanwhile the grace of the Lord more fully him within illustrating, suddenly his soul, in admiration of the supernal beauty suspended, with so great a fire of love kindled, with so vehement it was shaken, and into a certain supermundane excess of mind it was raised. And when with so copious a dew of heavenly grace he was bathed, there appeared to him the Lord Jesus Christ; who him beholding with most serene countenance, said to him; "What do you ask of me, and what do you wish that I do for you, my son?" He recognizing, that he was the Lord Savior, answered saying: "My Lord, you know." And the Lord to him: "Does it suffice you," he said, "that for you flesh graciously I put on, for you I sustained reproaches, that Christ shows it, spittings, blows, scourges, a crown of thorns, nails; and that I might sustain greater confusion, on the gibbet of the cross naked I hung? on which death overcoming, by death to be overcome I permitted myself, reckoned with the wicked, and to death innocently adjudged? Do these suffice you?" He answered; "By no means, my Lord." But when this he said, not therefore indeed he said it, that he might deny the passion of the Lord to him and to the whole world to suffice for redemption; but he demonstrated, that with most ardent heart he panted for the most blessed vision of the holy Trinity, subjoining and saying; "You know, my Lord, what I desire."

[18] And the choirs of the Saints, Then the Lord, with the luminous rays of his grace marvelously his heart illustrating; "Look," he said, "upward, that you may contemplate the marvels which to you I am about to show." Which at once upward his eyes lifting, opened were to him the heavens; and, as much as to men still in this mortality remaining it is given to behold, he saw all the choirs of all the Saints, of Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles, Martyrs, Confessors, Virgins and Monks, moreover also the choirs of Angels; of all of which the Orders, with inestimable brightness shining, clearly and distinctly he beheld. Of all these indeed the glory he marveled at: and the glorious Mother, but no rest for his spirit in all these could he find. But the Lord of them said to him: "Do these all suffice you, my son? or still to more sublime things to hasten do you desire?" And when he answered and said, by no means to him it sufficed; the Lord again said to him: "Lift your eyes, and contemplate my glorious Mother, whom to you I will show." Who at once his eyes upward directing, saw the mirror of the whole heavenly Court, the singular Queen, by name and merits venerable Mary, above the choirs of Angels exalted; of whose beauty's magnitude, of whose glory's fullness no thought at all or understanding is able to attain. And when in the consideration of her glory in a marvelous manner clinging and astonished he was rendered, not however total rest for his spirit in her admirable glory to have found himself it seemed.

[19] and at last the Holy Trinity, Again the Lord spoke to him saying: "Do they suffice you all that you have seen? or still much more sublime do you desire to behold?" And when he, in all which to him had been shown, those things which he desired by no means to have found himself said; the Lord, recognizing his holy obstinacy, and the vehement of his heart desire, again said to him; "Fly up still much more sublimely, my son, and according to the measure, by which graciously to you I mete my grace, the marvelous of my majesty highness, and the ineffable delights of my glory contemplate." Who at once, as it seemed to him; in the inscrutable abyss of the divine light immersed, as much as by the Master of all things he was taught, he saw marvelously; marvelously, I say, he saw, as it was permitted to see, three in persons, and one in substance: he saw the ineffable treasures of his glory, in which to dwell, which to enjoy and be satiated, all which in eternity to contemplate and possess, eternal life is. There stable consolation, there true rest, there everlasting joy found our contemplator; and what he had desired, he obtained; From this vision restored to himself, Arnulf, so that deservedly he could say: "My beloved is mine and I his." Cant. 1:16 & 3:4. And again: "I have found whom loves my soul, I will hold him nor let him go." And what marvel, if this new scholar, a man indeed simple, by grace instructed, in the school of the highest divinity learned, what the wise of this world by their wisdom could not find? Whence when afterward a certain Master Theologian proposed to him some questions about the blessed Trinity; he, who was one of the simple, with whom had conversed the Wisdom of God, freely and absolutely, the same Master bearing testimony, the proposed questions unraveled. But now let us return to those things which are premised.

[20] When therefore the man of God so great marvels had seen, again the Lord of glory spoke to him, he exults with marvelous joy, saying: "Behold, my son, you have seen my glory, you have seen and rejoiced. I tell you; that if all the leaves of all the trees, and all the drops of the waters of the sea, men were, and to my kingdom with all my Saints who with me are to reign, ought to attain; I tell you, that both for you, and for all would suffice the marvelous abundance of my glory, which you have seen." When these things had said the Lord Jesus, from the eyes of his servant he disappeared, and at once that blessed vision was consummated. From the heights therefore returning the studious lover of heavenly life, as from a heavy sleep awakening, the joy of mind from the workshops of joys with him brought back: and from that day in the future to the supernal assemblies of the Saints and the delights of the glory of his God, by a certain sweet recollection of mind, often to return he was wont. For some estimated, from the occasion of the preceding revelations, that he had taken the matter of jubilation and laughter, which into a custom he had led; but whether it was so or not, certain we have not.

Chapter VII.

[21] When on a certain chief festivity had come to the monastery the man of God, it happened, him at the hour of vigils to stand apart outside the choir, even to laughter and dancing beside the convent of psalming Monks. And when the devotion of his heart, which there from the infusion of heavenly grace he had conceived, to conceal he could not, but that with some gesture of his body it he showed; looking over against beside him stood, saw him gently laughing, his head moving, and even with one foot often dancing. From then (as from that same Walter's mouth we heard) began the laughter of jubilation in him to grow, when before either no or little of laughter and dancing sign in him could be detected. First therefore all these hearing, let them marvel, and consider, how marvelous of conversation that man was; who with the grief which in corporal affliction he sustained, also the joy of heart, which through the laughter of the mouth outwardly appeared, within to nourish and conserve he could. And what marvel, if of a marvelous man, through the marvelous God marvelous things doing, new in some way and marvelous things be said.

[22] Sometimes, while with thorny scourges, as above is said, his flesh by scourging he lacerated; great within in his heart he conceived joy, by whose magnitude so strongly outwardly he was dissolved into laughter, that the scourge from his hand throwing, with a certain spiritual playfulness, he clapped his hands, and with his feet danced; so that deservedly to him that could be adapted, which in the Canticle of love the Bride says: "Daughters of Jerusalem, announce to my Beloved, that

with love I languish." Cant. 2:5 even before others, But as often as from the fullness of his interior joy, outwardly into laughter he was dissolved, so often his face, appearing all fiery, in some way to laugh seemed. Often also, from the vehemence of laughter, so much shaken corporally he was wearied, that his bowels within to be cut asunder to him seemed. And when in the conversations of those conversing in the Chapter he was present, if perchance it happened mention to be made of the passion of the Lord, of sins, of transitory things, of the torments of hell, or of similar things; then his heart, as if by a certain weight of mourning was pressed down; so that sometimes deep from the bottom of his breast he drew sighs. But if of the canticle of love, of the jubilation of the heart, of the vision of the blessed Trinity, of the glory of the Saints, of the Cherubim and Seraphim, or of similar things the preacher more at length anything had discoursed; then his soul, by the virtue of the words and the sweetness, as with marrow and fatness was filled; so that the conceived within joy, through outward laughter to bring forth he was compelled. Sometimes also the laughter of his jubilations so strongly in him increased, that from each Chapter, namely of the Monks and of the Lay-brothers, outside to leap he was compelled: and having entered the church, with festive there for so long jubilation he danced, until the wine with which he had been inebriated, little by little was digested.

[23] and this for seven years But it must be known, that wherever he was, whether with his Brothers in the grange, or outside among religious persons; if it happened him to hear anything, whence greatly to rejoice he was compelled, nor then either could he himself from vehement laughter contain. Sometimes also, against his will so marvelously laughing, his laughter grievously he bore, especially before seculars, who knew not what signified so vehement his laughter. There were some, who the spirit, by which he was ruled, not having; his jubilatory laughter in an evil sense interpreted. But let such see, whether their conscience in this part to save they could, or not. Would that those who at one laughing laughed, and the innocent held in contempt, so great an abundance of tears in the peace of their heart had had, as that blessed one had of spiritual laughter abundance in the horrible affliction of his body. Of his jubilations therefore and of his laughter, with which (as they say) for seven years and more by the Lord in some way he was fed, those things which are premised to have said let it suffice; that the rest which remain to be said we may pursue.

Chapter VIII.

[24] In the summer time, when the Brothers of the grange, imitating the rule of the Monks, after dinner reposed in their beds, on Lord's days and festivities of the Saints; the man of the Lord sought for himself some retreat, where while his prayers more secretly to the Lord he poured out, and amid the delights of holy love within in his spirit sweetly slept, to sleep outwardly in body he refused. It happened that a certain Brother for this matter reprehended him before the Master of the Lay-brothers. Who at once commanded him, that, the others at that hour sleeping, Bidden thereafter to sleep longer, he too should sleep; lest if perchance he kept vigil, the Brothers, who compassionated his body, wearied with great torments, it grievously should bear. He obeyed the precept of his Master, as to all ready and obedient he was. But when after dinner he had entered the dormitory, and his shoes he drew off, that in his little bed himself he should place; suddenly stood by him a demon, who laughing and deriding him, into these words broke forth: "Brother, come now what is it, that you do? where is now your holy religion, and where are your vigils, which at this hour to observe you were wont? Surely your fervor for nothing must be reckoned, who your members to grow torpid allowing, to persevere in the work which you began you neglect. Rise therefore quickly, and to vigils and prayers attend, as just now you did." And when the blessed man the demon to him standing by perceived, his words seductive contemning, who him against the precept of his master to keeping vigil was provoking; with indignation he said: "Withdraw from me, wretch; withdraw from me: the demon urging the accustomed vigils he spurns, for now, will or nill, I will sleep, that you be confounded and by my sleep be tortured." And when this he had said, the ancient enemy into flight was turned.

[25] Again on a certain day, while within his cell the man of God alone was, and according to his custom with a scourge himself wore down; the demon, in a form which similar to a little man seemed, to him appearing, that of his penitential disciplines himself to be saddened and tortured he might show, the scourge, with which he struck himself, with a certain force from his hand struck out. But the man of the Lord, the demon him to be recognizing, another time having wrestled with him, at once with the sign of the Cross himself fortified; and with arms outstretched him seizing, helped by the Angel of great counsel, wrestled with the angel of evil counsel, until at last him to the ground he prostrated, and with his fist the malign one to strike began. And when he raging, and in some way muttering, said; "Alas! alas! Brother, you hurt me;" the man of God constantly answered: "Why, O most wicked, from your hurting should I abstain, if to me you to hurt were granted?" At which word the malign enemy, not bearing his constancy, with many blows struck, scarcely at last from his hands, mourning and confounded, escaped.

[26] Again on a certain day, when the blessed man, returning from the monastery, well beaten he dismisses him; the attendant with the cart preceding, in which loaves to the Brothers of the grange were carried, alone from afar followed; lo suddenly, at the exit of a certain wood, three women from that wood having gone out, and to him over against to meet coming, the way through which to him passage was occupied beforehand. And when a little to him they approached; he stopping, one of them, the rest being silent, thus to him spoke: "Come, Brother, come hither, and choose of us three one, who more pleasing to your eyes seems, and at your pleasure mingle with her." These things heard, the servant of the Lord recognized through the spirit, solicited under a womanly appearance, three to be demons, who him under the appearance of three women to seduce tried. And having recourse to the known protection of the sign of the Cross, his hope in the Lord he put; nor did he tremble with fear, where many perhaps would have trembled, or even to the diabolical persuasion would have consented: but at once returning to the wood, and circling over against, he left to them the way, and the attendant with the cart swiftly followed. But those little women, whom outwardly the diabolical craft had assimilated, to the wood's hiding-places leaping back, did not appear.

[27] At another time, when in the monastery vigils were kept, and the aforesaid man of the Lord in the choir with the rest of the Brothers stood; or in another way troublesome with the Cross he puts to flight. again a demon, in the appearance of a little boy, of soot blacker, to him impudently stood by. But forthwith as saw him the contemplative man, whose interior eyes, by the splendor of heavenly grace had been illustrated; perceiving that a demon it was, he signed his forehead, and breathed out into his face; and so from his face him to flee compelled. Moreover when with other ways the same enemy to that same servant of God sometimes hostile was, the most strong Athlete, not yielding to him, but striking him with the staff of the Lord's Cross, in the virtue of prayer always put to flight from himself the shape-shifter, for nothing reckoning the snares of his ambushes.

CHAPTER IV.

Endowed with a prophetic spirit, Arnulf obtains various graces for those consulting him.

Chapter IX.

[28] A certain Monk of the Cistercian Order, loving and faithful, To a pious Brother he foretells the day, once in the Monastery of Villers as a guest dwelt. He by a chance occurring fell into a grave infirmity, which rupture is called, and by such discomfort greatly was straitened; on account of which for many days him in the infirmary to be detained we saw. And when he was ignorant, on which he would be cured of the hernia, what to this infirmity cure he could apply; at last the prayers of Brother Arnulf he sought, with whom great in Christ familiarity he had obtained. Then he, who to the necessities of his neighbors from the soul came to aid, for the Monk beloved to him the Lord more attentively prayed, and was heard: for the day and hour, on which he should be cured, he intimated to him, and so according to the word of the man of God he was cured.

[29] and about to obtain the desired favor of God, But afterward that same Monk, once asked him, that to him he would send God; as is the custom for some to say, when the prayers of others they seek, saying: "Send me God." But the man of God, as liberal and benevolent he was to all, asked him, on what day he wished in this matter for him to help. Then he, "On the festivity," he said, "of Bl. Lucia the Virgin." Who at once, what from him he asked to be done, to do himself promised. But afterward when on the festivity of the aforesaid Virgin that same Monk was riding with another Monk, visiting him once his abbot, within the grace of God, were broken the cataracts of the head of his, and from his eyes so great an inundation of tears burst forth, that the force of them, even if he had wished, to hold he could not. But when he lagged behind, and the sweet pittance, which the Lord to him had sent, with a certain spiritual avidity tasted; the Monk who preceded, called him by his name, admonishing him, that as quickly as possible he should hasten. He indeed, with a deaf, as is wont to be said, ear, the voice of the speaker heard. But when after an hour, of that river the force, which his soul had gladdened, had passed, he followed the one preceding. By whom asked, why he had made delay; he the matter, as it was, manifesting; "Brother," he said, "Arnulf promised me, that on this day the grace of the Lord I should have: which also was done." [In a like manner to certain Nuns of Robertmont the grace of the Lord he foretold to be about to come: and just as he had foretold, so to have happened by certain report we have learned.]

Chapter X.

[30] In what manner, by the counsel of that same blessed man, built, in few words must be explained. For the Countess of Champagne, greatly afflicted, When a most powerful and noble Lord, Erald de Rammery, the venerable Countess of Champagne, [Blanche by name,] by war violently oppressed, so that the castles being besieged, her land with plunderings and burnings he devastated; for he pretended the County of all Champagne by hereditary right to belong to him, [on the part of the daughter of Henry of Champagne, King of Jerusalem, whom in the overseas parts he had taken in marriage]. Whence the very Nobles of Champagne, both on account of that Knight's consanguinity, and on account of his wife's affinity, some secretly, some openly, the Countess deserting, to him adhered. Over these things therefore with a mind too anxious the Matron, noble by lineage, [but far nobler, by the honest conversation of her manners, of almost all human both help destitute and counsel;] his suffrage with her whole heart began to implore, asked to pray, who his those placed in tribulation knows to succor; [and herself moreover to the holy prayers of good men she strove to commend.] And summoning familiar to her, Gerard by name, she asked him saying; "Do you know, my beloved, any holy man, who by his prayers in my tribulation to me to succor is able?" "I know, Lady,

mine," said he, "in the monastery of Villers, [which is in Brabant], a lay Brother [of venerable conversation], Arnulf by name; who is able, as I believe, to you in this necessity by his to the Lord prayers to give suffrage." Which heard she, greatly rejoicing, for her business directed Br. Gerard to the man of God, [license being asked and received from the Abbot of Robertmont.]

[31] But when he had come to his beloved Arnulf, he foretells [the matter will be relieved,] he saluted him on the part of the Countess of Champagne: then the business, [for which thither he had come], to him he intimated: and said to him: "It behoves me, dear Brother, to set out for Liège: but you to prayer attend; that when to you returned I shall be, I may hear from you, what to the Lady Countess about this I should report." He set out therefore; but the man of the Lord, for the enjoined business, wholly to prayer himself gave: and while more insistently he prayed, a marvelous he saw vision; namely a hen white, with chicks of the same color, who her as a mother followed, [and under her wings were cherished.] Which seen, when he was ignorant, what this might be; he asked from the Lord, the signification of this vision to him to be revealed. And forthwith from heaven it was revealed to him, that the Countess a monastery of Nuns ought to build: [because he understood, by the hen with chicks, to be signified an Abbess with her Nuns.] After some days returned Br. Gerard to the man of God, a convent of the Cistercian Order being founded that of the business to him committed a response from him he might receive. The man of the Lord, [according to what to him had been revealed, put the word in his mouth, saying:] "Return, my beloved, in peace to the Lady Countess, who sent you; [and saluting her again in my name,] suggest to her on my part, that if a monastery of Nuns of the Order Cistercian to found she shall wish, at once [as the will in her heart she shall have conceived,] all the quarrel, which between her and her calumniator is carried on, by the intervening concord will be lulled to rest."

[32] Which when the Monk had heard, glad he was made; and so Argentea-cella is founded. and bidding farewell to his dearest Arnulf, he returned to the venerable Countess; and to her all things, which from the man of God he had heard, recounted. Which heard she rejoiced with great joy: and [she who never the will of building a monastery had had, as if divinely a counsel of this kind she had received,] at once on the same day began to treat, how and where a new she could found monastery. And that there might be fulfilled the word, which had said the man of God, not long after the contumacy of the powerful man, with which against the Countess he swelled, to peace and concord was recalled. [At last therefore the monastery being built, with its offices, Matron, having gathered there, both from the Bishopric of Liège and from other places, a convent of Virgins, who regularly according to the Cistercian Order should be instituted; that very place, where up to today flourishes and is fervent Religion, with revenues and possessions in which she abounded, copiously endowing she enlarged.]

Chapter XI.

[33] There was a certain Recluse, not far from the monastery of Villers dwelling, very religious, Divinely he understands, [and therefore to very many gracious and amiable,] who to the man of God Arnulf greatly in Christ beloved, him called her Father most dear. She frequently] to her coming, and before the window of her recluse-cell sitting, with salutary words often strove to admonish, that, from sins and vices himself guarding, the fellowship of seculars he should decline, and the Lord God in sincerity of life to serve he should strive. He, as he was a youth of benevolent disposition, visiting within him the grace, began to the Recluse's admonitions to give consent, so that daily running back to her, from her mouth words of holy consolation he heard. But the Recluse seeing, that her new in Christ son, [his days in some way losing,] to study with his companions neglected; admonished him, that thereafter more rarely to her coming, more frequently than usual to the schools he should run back. He indeed, tenderly loving her in Christ, to her words to consent was unwilling; but very often to her running back, while in her school, the way of life he learned, indeed to lose time he did not think. Which seeing the Recluse with great indignation was angry against him, and indiscreetly a vow vowed to the Lord, that for a month to him she would not speak. Which recognizing the Cleric, was consternated in mind greatly, so that almost he fell into desperation, that he should renounce the good doctrine, which from his mistress [and mother] he had received; but lest similar he be made to a dog, who returns to his vomit, forcing himself, and the bridle (as is wont to be said) with his teeth seizing, [refused to instruct him, he persisted in the way of life which he had entered,] and complained to the governor of all the Lord, of his mistress and mother, that him, in some way as if desperate, without consolation she had left: and, lest he give her occasion of transgressing her vow, for a whole month before her recluse-cell he came, and to speak to her did not presume.

[34] Meanwhile the Recluse is seized by a fever most strong, so that the sound of her teeth, [seized by a fever. against one another dashing, far was heard.] All things also, which between her and the Cleric had happened, through the spirit were revealed to the man of God Arnulf: who not long after coming to her [found her with fever laboring: and her saluted, as if ignorant of her fever,] said to her: "How are you, dearest?" Who answered: "By a fever I am straitened exceedingly." "Deservedly," said he, "by a fever you are straitened, because that Cleric, [whom in Christ you had begotten, and newly begotten in the cradle of his infancy, as if with the milk of consolation you ought to have nourished,] as if a stranger unwisely from you you have repelled. Know therefore, that God our just and merciful, for this offense with a scourge too hard you to punish, that is his grace from you to withdraw had proposed: and he bids her resume the pious work. which I from heaven recognizing, with even mind the detriment of your soul to sustain I could not; and I prayed the Lord my God, that to you propitious he might be, and by no means with a spiritual, but rather with a corporal scourge this offense in you he might expiate: and did my God what I asked of him, and sent you this strong fever, [than which perhaps stronger there cannot be.] Then also, when grievously I bore that of heavenly food you were deprived, again I turned myself to beseeching for you of all goods the Giver, that with the eye of his clemency you regarding, by no means you in this infirmity fasting he might dismiss; but so great an affluence of his grace to you from above to send he might deign, as ever in all your life you have had. Wherefore, in the name of the Lord, tell me, whether the matter so is, or not." [Which heard, the handmaid of Christ was astonished at the words of grace, which proceeded from his mouth; and said, that all things so to her had happened, just as the blessed man had spoken. He therefore comforting his beloved in Christ and bidding farewell to her, to the grange returned. By the Lord through his servant was done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes.]

Chapter XII.

[35] A certain religious Priest, by name Gerard, once at Nivelles dwelt at St. Sixtus, Asked to pray for a sick woman, there in the church the office of Chaplain performing; and dwelt with him his mother, Cecilia by name; who after some time by an infirmity seized, in bed lay. But her son Gerard, with filial affection his mother's infirmity compassionating, went to the man of God Arnulf, [to whom greatly familiar he was,] that his mother sick to his prayers he might commend. And when he had come to him, [among the many which to one another they had conversations,] the Priest said to him: "I beseech you, Brother in Christ most dear, that for my mother, who with infirmity labors, God more attentively you beseech." And he added: "Also I ask from you, that you foretell me the day, on which my mother is to die." To this he jokingly answered: Why is it necessary, [he asserts she will die at a certain time: that from me such things you require? What to me about such things? An idle matter is, which you ask. Then the Priest; "By no means," he said: but, if I have found grace in your eyes, hear in this my prayer: for this I wish to extort from you."] Then the merciful man, lest his beloved he should sadden, for his mother the Lord besought; and returned from prayer, said to him, that his mother, within twenty days after the Nativity of the Lord, would die; and it was around the feast of St. Remigius, when these future things he foretold.

[36] Then the Priest, bidding farewell to him, to his mother returned; how a certain one exploded this, and in her infirmity carefully to her, and as much as he could he ministered: but on the day seventeenth after the Nativity of the Lord, when the woman, the disease worsening, more than usual to be weakened had begun; her son Gerard of pious memory Master Guido of Nivelles, and nine other Priests called, that all at the anointing of his mother might be present. [Anointed therefore was the woman, those Priests standing by and praying for her.] But before she was anointed, one of the Priests who had come, called Gerard apart: and much from Brother Arnulf detracting; "Lord," he said, "Gerard, why to the verbosity of Br. Arnulf so easily do you believe, [who your mother within these twenty days foretold to die?] Which Gerard hearing, grievously bore; and chiding him, said, that Br. Arnulf was a man of virtue acceptable to God in his works. These heard, when not yet he from his detraction ceased, [stretching out with his hand the cope with which he was clothed;] "Behold," he said, "I will permit this cope by fire to be burned, if, according to Br. Arnulf's word, as he indicates was made known to him, your mother to die shall happen." Deceived is he, since on the following day, which was the eighteenth before the twentieth, the woman died, and on the nineteenth day was buried. But Gerard returned to the man of God Arnulf, his mother to be dead reported, [and to give suffrage to her soul, with prayers him he bent.] To whom at once the man of God answered: "As to you about your mother I foretold, so it happened; but yet the Priest's cope not yet is burned; for still he has it."

[37] Which heard Gerard was astonished, and bidding farewell to his beloved Arnulf, returned to Nivelles; and reported to the aforesaid Priest the reproach of Br. Arnulf, who about his cope, not yet burned, him reprehended. Which he hearing, and the blasphemer he converts. because twice he found himself to have lied, vehemently blushed, and thereafter from the man of God to detract did not presume: and touched with grief of heart within, that so great a man he had detracted from; "Lord Gerard," he said, "let us go to the man of God: for I desire to speak to him, and himself to see." Which agreeing they set out both together; and came to the grange, where he dwelt, [which above Quercetum to be called we said;] and at their pleasure to him they spoke. But the man of God speaking in the ears of both, of those things which [either to God or] to the salvation of souls pertain,

the aforesaid Priest [who with a cold perhaps thither had come heart,] even to tears almost was compuncted: and when he had taken Br. Arnulf apart, alone with him alone speaking, and by his consolatory words in Christ much was strengthened, and pardon being asked from him, for the detraction injurious, which against him with a maledictory tongue he had hurled, the grace of the Lord he to have found in him professed; [and so rejoicing, with his companion Gerard, to his own home returned.]

NOTES OF D. P.

a From the Val-Dieu manuscript many things in these chapters Rosweide supplied, which here and thereafter, as already before also was done, in brackets [] enclosed you will see.

which true to be cannot. As being one who far older than Louis, already years thirteen a widow had been, when he came into the world, of his brothers the second-born, and his first-born brother, before puberty having died, successor in the kingdom. Blanche therefore was the daughter of Sancho the Wise, and sister of Sancho the Strong, Kings of Navarre, given in matrimony to Theobaldus, after the death of her brother Henry King of Jerusalem, Count of Champagne; from whom, having died in the year 1201, a posthumous son she had; who, heir of his paternal name and County, in the year 1234, on his mother's part, his uncle Sancho in the kingdom of Navarre succeeded.

the first Abbess Agnes of Liège, in the fourth year of her rule, of Christ 1226 having died, from our Arnulf's probable suggestion elected: about whom the man of Cantimpré, book 2, ch. 46, says, that, of no Grammar's laws cultivated, the books of Theology and of Augustine himself on the Trinity, with singular intelligence expounded: under whom the number of Religious women is said to have increased to 90, besides 10 Lay-sisters and 20 Clerics, subject to the Abbess, of whom 12 were Priests.

CHAPTER V.

Arnulf knows the secrets of hearts, and knows the graces granted to others, or predicts those to be granted.

Chapter XIII.

[38] There was a certain Priest secular, who in manners honest enough the life indeed of the good outwardly to emulate seemed; To a hypocrite Priest he tells his hidden sins, but in all things the glory or little glory of men affecting, and into the mire of carnal enticement himself plunging, in the eyes of God, all things beholding, a hypocrite was reputed. To him by a certain religious woman it was persuaded, that to Br. Arnulf he should go, and his familiarity, [who for religion famous was held, and prayers likewise] for himself acquire. He did what the woman had said, going to the man of God; and kindly by him, who was kind to all, received he was. When therefore, for the cause of seeing him, and also on account of his prayers himself to have come he said; the man of God answered: [Can to you either my or another's profit prayer, since in that state, in which now you are, to live you do not fear. At which word he a little in mind disturbed; "What is it," said he, "whence the state of my life reprehensible is judged?" To this the man of God answered: [Why the manners of your simulatory life, in which hitherto many you have deceived, do you seek to cloak?] To me nothing of your wretched conversation can you hide." Then the blessed man at the nod and will of the said Priest, his detestable works, [and which to say is unlawful by him perpetrated, the whole nevertheless state of his conscience in malign and impure thoughts] expressly he himself hearing explained; and to prove of those things, which he had said, the truth, gave him of Nivelles, or any other religious and upright in Christ man you can have, that your wretched life by confessing to them you make public; all these things which to you individually I have set forth, you keep silent, lest through the publication of these among them the opinion of your fame be blackened, [and into their ears some light things, your manner cloaking, you whisper.]"

[39] Which heard the Priest, when, accusing him his conscience, any subterfuge in the face of the man of God he did not find; and he persuades [him to migrate elsewhere.] touched with grief of heart within, and outwardly in his face with redness suffused, true to be all things, which the servant of Christ had uttered, most certainly asserted. But the man of the Lord, comforting him in the Lord, suggested to him, that thereafter his excesses with all caution he should correct, and from the villa in which he dwelt, in corporal presence himself withdraw. He therefore, bidding farewell to the man of God, confounded departed; and from that place, where to dwell he was wont, to another place migrating, to the aforesaid servant of Christ thereafter to return he blushed. [Let them blush, the simulators and lustful Priests, who under the clothing of sheep are ravening wolves, who defiled with the filth of lust, beside the son of the Virgin place the idol of Venus; who, while in the celebration of Mass the sacred words with unclean mouth they utter, into the face of the Savior they spit; and when into the unclean mouth the most holy flesh they place, him as if to the mud of the streets they cast. Wretched plainly and pitiable, who have made a covenant with death, and with hell have made a pact. Let them therefore come to their senses who such are, and return to their Savior the Lord Jesus, dissembling their sins on account of penance. Let them have recourse, while it is permitted, to the merciful one, that in an opportune time they may obtain his mercy.]

Chapter XIV.

[40] There was a certain Novice in the monastery of Villers, who within the year of his probation in the furnace of tribulation placed, could say with the Psalmist, A Novice afflicted with a twofold infirmity he frees: "Tribulation and grief I found": with two and unbearable infirmities greatly he was afflicted, of which one was a pain of the head, almost continuous, and so strong that the censure of silence scarcely could he keep, [and up to the hour of eating the decorum to sustain;] but the other infirmity foul and dishonest, whose quality for the sake of honesty] not to be published [but to be cloaked we have judged. Ps. 114:3 And when he under the twofold pain was cut down, so to say, wound upon wound, and of recovering health he despaired, [because no remedy he found, which to his infirmities he might apply;] at last license being received, to the servant of Christ his discomfort more secretly he intimated. Whose straits [the man of much piety] from the marrow compassionating, [and praying for him,] a response of this kind gave him, saying; "Go in peace, and be comforted in the Lord: with the double infirmity, with which you hitherto beset have complained you have been, from this day in the rest, know that you by no means will be straitened." He recovered therefore [the aforesaid Novice] from his infirmities, and giving thanks to omnipotent God and his servant, [and a sudden and unhoped-for recovering soundness;] the anniversary of his profession day with joy awaited.

[41] likewise a Monk from a grave temptation, In a like manner, when a certain Monk [of the same monastery] by a most grievous temptation was urged, he went to the man of God, the temptation by which he was troubled, to him to show, and his prayer's aid to ask; and received from him a response, that he in the near future wholly would be freed. On the same day therefore, the blessed man praying, [and as another Moses lifting his hand on high,] put to flight was that spiritual Amalek, who our Israel attacked, so that peace to him stable was restored, nor further by the hostile temptation, [which up to that day endured he had been,] was he wearied. Another Monk of the same monastery, wishing about the defect of his heart and the poverty of his soul to consult the man of God, came to him, the hardness of his heart, especially on Lord's days, himself to feel complaining. To whom the man of God answered: "Why, Brother, a hard heart on Lord's days you to have allege, and another's hidden grace he knows. when on three in the week days with the honeyed of heavenly grace food in some measure you are fed?" Which when he denied, the man of God subjoined, saying; "Do not hide yourself from me; since, as I said, so it is." Then he, [thinking and rethinking, whether so it was; who perhaps the grace of the Lord, from the humility of his heart, on three per week days in himself had not noticed; plainly] true to be, what from the mouth of the servant of God he had heard, perceived.

[42] On the vigil of the Assumption of Bl. M. It happened in the same monastery a certain worthy of report, which, to the edification of the hearers, into the midst we will bring forth. On the Assumption of the most blessed Virgin Mary, when at the beginning of the vigils [that jubilatory song, namely] the Invitatory, "Hail Mary," and the Psalm "Come let us exult," solemnly by the Monks was sung; and he himself singing, began the affection of his heart, according as by grace he was drawn, upward to direct; and before the glorious of the Lord Savior and his blessed Mother's sight, himself as if in presence or corporally to present. And when so within in his soul from heaven he was comforted, he sees a Monk devoutly psalming, of the Lord's mercy trusting, himself in the heavenly places by the Lord, not for his merits, but according to the ineffable goodness of him, he hoped to be crowned. But as often as the Invitatory was repeated, so often, [he with joy singing, and in the heights to the King and Queen humbly assisting,] the holy of his mind devotion renewed was augmented. Meanwhile the man of the Lord Arnulf, who was in the church, saw the Lord Savior and his venerable Mother, beside that Monk standing: who him [with a certain most beautiful belt girding around, on the right and left taken up, singing and laughing,] on high lifted from the earth. And when the blessed man by praying continued to behold him so departing, and said; "My Brother, my Brother, still certainly I will see you;" he, [by the blessed of the King and Queen hands] upward carried to the stars, by him further to be seen could not.

[43] But the Monk on the same day of the Assumption, [license being received, by Christ and the Mother of God into heaven to be carried;] spoke to the man of God; when however he was ignorant, that he about himself the night past the man of God, as sometimes he was wont, was dissolved into laughter, so that the Monk marveled, why as if without cause he laughed. Then the blessed man said to him, that the night past, when the Vigils were kept, he had seen one of the Monks, by the Virgin mother and her Son in the choir visited, and by their holy hands as if to the heavenly things carried. Which he hearing, when the Monk's name, and the hour [at which in this manner upward carried he was,] to him to be revealed he sought; the man of the Lord the asker at once to hear was unwilling: at the last however, the asker's importunity satisfying, that Monk himself it was, and during the singing of the Invitatory that to him had happened, he declared. But the Monk, [who to presume by no means could have, that to him such a thing should happen, about this kind of benefit to himself from heaven conferred did not exalt himself, but in] his spirit before the eyes of the Lord humbled. [This vision therefore, which our contemplator spiritually saw as if corporally

it had happened, to him corporally was manifested.]

[44] [We therefore, who the holy of the Lord service have professed, which the Author turns into by the example of this Monk, when we stand to psalm, by psalming to understand let us strive what we utter, that in human manner, not as if by the voice of birds we sing. For both blackbirds, and parrots, and crows, and birds of this kind often by men are taught to sound what they know not: but knowingly to sing, to the nature of man by the divine will is granted: which also the Psalmist commends, saying; "I will psalm and I will understand." Ps. 100:1 How pleasing to God a psalmody do we think, in which the voice indeed presents the appearance of one praying, but the mind is without fruit? For those who the form of psalming to us handed down, for the instruction of those psalming. this admonished, that we serve the Lord in fear, that we psalm wisely; and so we stand to psalm, that our mind agree with our voice. Let us keep therefore with all custody our heart, on the divine praises insisting; lest when with the body we are in the choir, in mind outside we wander: because, according to the Philosopher, nowhere is he who is everywhere. The first therefore argument of a composed mind is, to be able to settle and fixed to remain: for of a sick mind is this tossing, to run about and by the variety of places to be disquieted. Therefore, in body dwelling on earth, in mind with the Lord in heaven let us dwell; that where our treasure is, there may be also our heart.]

Chapter XVI.

[45] A certain religious woman, [Mistress of the Hospital, which is beside the greater church of Bl. Mary at Paris, Theophania by name, By a Parisian Religious woman,] having heard the fame of the marvelous conversation of the man of God, desired to see his face, and his desired conversation to obtain: but yet, the long interval of lands standing in the way, she was frustrated in this part, of her heart's desire. And because mouth to mouth, [eye to eye to see the holy man, and at the same time] to him to speak she could not; she summoned a certain Cleric, by nation a Brabanter, there studying, whom the vicar of her conscience she sent to the aforesaid servant of Christ, graciously saluting him by his mouth, and charging him that a copious gift of heavenly grace for her from the Lord to be imparted he should beseech. Which when from the mouth of the messenger had heard the man magnificent, saluted through an intermediary, holding pleasing what to him a devout and faithful matron had charged, [with that his gracious, which toward all to use he was wont, manner of alacrity, from joy to have laughed, and] a response of this kind to the messenger to have given is reported: "Return, my friend, to the religious Lady, who sent you to me; and first to her from my heart and from my mouth bring back of salvation eternal the fullness; then subjoining, announce to her from me, that on that day; [on the day, I say, that] which to her I designate, so great from heaven from the Lord she will obtain of grace an affluence, as in all her life she is not to have. [Then the man of the Lord designated to him the day, on which this should be done; he reports it to her] and added saying; Unless by the obstacle of her negligence be obstructed the aqueduct, through which the rivulet of grace ought to flow into her heart, in no way can be frustrated the measure of grace, with which up to a superflowing heap to fill her heart I have foretold."

[46] These heard the Cleric returned to Paris; and from the mouth of the man of God saluting the devout woman, on what day she would be divinely consoled: to her all things which from his mouth he had heard in order recounted. Glad was she in those things which were said to her, and the promised to her unto the heap of supernal grace benediction, with immense desire and without hesitation, awaited. [After a little therefore dawned that festive day, the day of the gladness of her heart.] And it came to pass, she praying on that day, suddenly and unexpectedly rushed into her the Spirit of the Lord, [the Spirit vehement and strong,] by whose powerful virtue were shaken all her bowels; and as flows wax from the face of fire, so wholly melted was the soul of her, and transfused into the embraces of her Beloved; so that when within with the honey-flowing of divine sweetness savor she was fed, herself in some way as if into a certain paradise of delights translated to have been she marveled. But when, after the alienation of her inebriation, to herself she had returned; she began [joyful and praising, like another Queen of Sheba, in praise of our Solomon] to break forth, saying; "True is the word, which done she proceeds to the man of God she is more devoutly affected which I heard [in that land about the virtues of the holy man, and I did not believe those narrating to me; until I, having experienced the power of his merits, with ocular faith now have seen and proved, that the middle part of the admirable his life and virtues to me was not announced. For greater is his holy religion, than the rumor which I heard.]" At last therefore the handmaid of Christ, both through that Cleric whom we have mentioned, and through many others, saluting and re-saluting in the Lord the man of God, thanks to him repaid for his prayers' suffrage; [announcing to all and commending the merits and virtues of him, praising and magnifying in him the Lord Savior, who him enriched with so copious the things which are premised, were true, or not; either absent let him charge a messenger, or present let him ask the venerable woman, who up to this day in the city of Paris is surviving, and from her he will be able the matter done to know the truth.]

NOTES

b About the Hospitals of Paris treats James du Breul, book 4 of the Antiquities of Paris, from p. 950 to 1005, but of this no mention, unless under another perhaps name.

CHAPTER VI.

Many other things, by Arnulf prophetically known, or even predicted for the edification of his neighbors.

Chapter XVII.

[47] There was another religious woman, with an indissoluble bond of holy love to the man of God bound, so that to them with one another there was one heart and one soul. To a pious woman he indicates graces revealed to him, made to her by God, To this aforesaid handmaid of Christ on the sixth feria Friday before Easter, [when the most sacred of the Lord's passion memory recalls the whole Church,] conferred grace, of which the manner and order the blessed man through revelation knew. And summoning one of the Monks, the faithful of his heart confidant, he indicated to him what kind or how great on the said day the Lord to that woman good things had done. And adding; "Behold," he said, "I send you: go to her, and all which from me you have heard, repeat in order in her ears." Setting out the Monk came to her; and on the part of the man of God who sent him, into these words broke forth, saying: "These things says the man of God Arnulf, on the day of the Preparation [Good Friday,] [and these he charges to you through me:] When this year on the sixth feria before Easter, [which day is special for adoring the Cross,] you heard in church the Passion of the Lord by the Priest recited, as you yourself know; could not your heart with any compassion be softened; but when had been made the hour, in which the Lord on the cross hung; that same hour from heaven to you was manifested: and then altogether to contain yourself you could not, but that your whole heart into abundant tears with little rivers was dissolved.

[48] At the same hour it seemed to you to see the Lord's side by a lance pierced, the torments of Christ suffering being seen, and that same lance his heart to penetrate; and that also blood from his hands and feet flowed out, and a crown of thorns on his head was placed. But when so most bitter of the Lord and your Savior pain you attended, it seemed to you, that with St. Andrew you should undergo of the cross the torment, and to die with him. Then when the pious Lord attended and saw, you his most faithful friend to wish with him to die, in the most benign manner of his piety he spoke to you, saying: "Come after me, sweet daughter." Then at once upward looking, you saw heaven open, and you looked into the most high Majesty with the most bright eyes of your mind: and lo, suddenly it seemed to you, you to that same supreme Majesty, in the form of a crowned King, and the glory of one rising again. to stand by; whose blessed voice in this manner you heard: "Have in you peace, my daughter, and now remove from you the matter of grief, since I am cured from the pains of the cross." These heard so great you conceived jubilation in the laughter of exultation, that at the same hour wholly unmindful you were made of the Lord's passion; since so strongly and so perfectly had absorbed your heart into itself the grace and glory of the supreme Majesty, that to you it seemed, that the Lord of himself made for you a certain mirror, because the mirror of the world you had crushed under your feet: wherefore his sweetest whisper afterward in this manner you heard: "Behold, my sweet daughter, I show you my blessed face, and I wish that in my heart you fall asleep, and that your heart acknowledge that in the delights of my glory you will live forever. [When therefore in so great an excess of mind raised you had been, it seemed to you, that the Lord Christ with raised hand right you blessed, and said to you;]" "Hold and observe firmly my peace, daughter, since made is in peace my place." "Behold, on the part of your beloved Arnulf," said the Monk, "I have reported to you, my sister, what and how great of the Lord grace on the aforesaid day in you you experienced. [Now therefore to prove of my narration the truth this have as a sign, that the grace, which on the most sacred that day so affluently from heaven you conceived, from that in which the Lord of majesty hung on the gibbet of the cross, up to the twilight of night in your soul persevered.]" Which when had heard the devout woman, filled she was with stupor and admiration; and blessed the Lord Savior, who so copious a grace's gift to his servant to bestow deigned.

Chapter XVIII.

[49] Two Clerics, in age youths, came to the man of God, Asked by 2 Clerics, about their conscience, asking from him that he should say to them, if anything there was within their conscience, which reprehension worthy might be judged. To this he; "Now," he said, "nothing I will answer you: go to the nearest villa to speak to the Recluse, who there dwells; and when you have returned to me, know me to you about to answer." At once they, [having the sign which he had said,] departed. But meanwhile the blessed man prayed God more attentively, that to him something about their state he might reveal, and was heard. On the same therefore day toward evening, when they had returned; one of them speaking to him apart, asked him, saying: "Good Brother, what is that sin in me, whence more reprehensible to be judged I am?" Who answered him: "I tell you that in the present week by confessing you vomited out a sin of this kind, about which me you ask, [with this token, that of this sin the penance not yet by work to fulfill

you have begun.]" Which when had heard he, seeing that caught he was, was astonished, and in this word truthful to be the man of God asserted.

[50] he admonishes one about the unfulfilled penance, After this came also the other, to hear desiring he too, what testimony about himself the marvelous man would bear. But it was night. And said to him the man of God: "My Brother, because it is pleasing to you, that the state of your life by some manner of words I express; I tell you, according to what your conscience knows, that you somewhat outwardly with manners honest religion simulate; but your heart restless and wandering, with vain often and enticing thoughts is defiled. [Sometimes also to the little gatherings of religious women your corporally you exhibit presence, the other about a wanton conversation, not that by their admonitions you may beware for yourself of the snares of sins, and the life of the good imitate; but that with the gracious gesture, which in laughter and jokes to them outwardly familiarly you show, either some of them to sin you allure, or at least by look and thought a detriment of your soul you suffer.] Know therefore foreknowing, that if outside in the world you remain, made as a horse unbridled, into the deep pit of sins you will be cast. Go therefore and confess your sins, because very to you necessary it is."

[51] who both compunct become Religious, Which heard, he, when to deny he could not, those things which by the man of God were said, in mind confused he was, and still much more outwardly [shamed he would have been, because the man of God his eyes on him had fixed] unless the darkness of night in this part an obstacle to him had afforded. Comforting therefore them the merciful man, and to the life of good men to emulate, with salutary words corroborating, he dismissed them in peace. But they, bidding farewell to him, departed; and that to the monastic soldiery they might devote themselves, to the Cistercian Order both together themselves transferred. [If anyone perchance should marvel, why both here and elsewhere the names of the persons, whom to our narration we insert, in silence we pass over; let him acknowledge without doubt this therefore to be done, lest, if they were published; since as yet surviving they are, perhaps with their own praises they be extolled, or even on occasion of vituperation by shame be confounded.]

Chapter XIX.

[52] A certain woman, Aleydis called, dwelling beside the grange of the house of Villers, [a girl offered to him, to be freed from a demon's nocturnal vexation, he foretells,] which Nova-curia is called, a daughter had, Clementia by name, whom a malign spirit, in nocturnal especially hours infesting, to her sleep and bodily rest altogether took away: [for it seemed to her, that as if a cat under her clothes to her flesh creeping, and upward up to her throat climbing, herself with claws to lacerate, and with mouth biting, to suffocate should intend.] But the mother, grievously bearing the pitiable of her daughter affliction, took that same daughter with herself, and to the aforesaid grange set out, because thither to have come the man of God she had known. And causing him to be summoned to the gate, and likewise the Master of the grange, [Gumbert by name, from whose mouth the knowledge of this matter we learned,] she recounted before them her daughter's discomfort; beseeching earnestly the servant of the Lord, that to her daughter, by his merits and prayers, to succor he would deign. At once the blessed man, calling apart Br. Gumbert, whispered into his ear all things, which by the girl were to be done to obtain a cure; charging her through that same Brother, that in all purity of heart she should confess her sins, and herself in good simplicity keep, until on the day of the Purification of the blessed Virgin Mary, from the hand of the Priest in the Mass the Eucharist in hope of her salvation she should receive: and he subjoined, asserting, that after the life-giving reception of the Sacrament, no thereafter infestation of the devil she would feel.

[53] [But it was around the feast of the Epiphany of the Lord, when these things were done and said. which on the said day was done. Announced therefore Br. Gumbert to the girl all in order, which from the mouth of the man of God he had heard.] Which when had heard she, glad was very, and all which in the charge she had received, by work fulfilled, [awaiting the promise in gladness and exultation of her heart.] And when had dawned the day of the Purification of the blessed Mother of the Lord, she went to the church, that the sacred solemnities of the Mass she might attend. And when, the read Gospel and offered according to custom the Candles, the Priest the Canon had run through; and the "Agnus Dei" being said, and the Peace being received, she the Body of the Lord from the hand of that same Priest had received; comforted in the Lord, according to her faith, from that day and in the rest, perfectly from the mockery of the demon freed she was. [But her mother, returned to Br. Gumbert, joyful and praising, said to him: Dear Master, render thanksgivings to omnipotent God and his faithful servant, who by his merits and prayers to my daughter a cure entire from heaven obtained.]

Chapter XX.

[54] A certain Knight in many abounding [revenues and] riches, One thinking about founding a monastery; thought a new [of his things] to found monastery of women, who according to the Cistercian Order in regular discipline should be informed. Which while often in mind he turned, where and how his thought by work to fulfill he could; he began suddenly, from the oblique dissuasion of certain persons, the purpose of his heart to impede a certain doubtfulness, lest the good which in heart he had conceived he should bring to effect. And when in this manner the matter was in suspense, [to no one anything thereof having spoken,] he came to the monastery of Villers, counsel about this matter from the Lord William the Abbot to seek. To whom when he had spoken, he proceeded to the grange, that to the man of God he might speak, and him also about this matter consult. Whom when the man of God kindly had received, he confirms him in his purpose, hitherto secret, and never one the other had seen; at once turned to him that same man of God; "You," he said, "are the Lord Aegidius Bertold, who about the building of a new monastery to consult have come. Why a work, worthy of heavenly blessing, [a work plainly with laudable memory to be proclaimed,] do you make of nothing? Be comforted in the Lord and in the power of his virtue; and a monastery of Nuns, just as within, in your heart first by will you conceived, so by work outwardly fulfill: for I tell you, pleasing it is to the most blessed Virgin Mother, and her will it is, that you cause." Which hearing the Knight, and in his thought by the man of God caught himself to be perceiving, vehemently was astonished, [nothing at all having which to him in reply he might answer.] At last by him greatly comforted in Christ, and so Vallis-Rosarum is built. to his own home returned he was: and, [lest perchance those, to whom this to know were given, should mock him, saying; That this Knight proposed in heart a monastery to build, but outwardly by work was unwilling to consummate it,] the grace heavenly his heart strengthening, a new he founded monastery of the Cistercian Order, whose Vallis-rosarum Valley of Roses the name is, where he caused to be gathered from another monastery Nuns, who devout by days and nights to the Lord should exhibit service.

[55] Of two seeking the Monastic [life, one to be a partaker of his vow he foretells.] Two young men lay, of whom one was called Lambert, the other Godfrey, coming to the man of God, said to him, that they a will had conceived, that the world they should renounce, and Villers should enter the monastery, to the Lay Brothers' convent to be associated, [asking, themselves by his prayers' suffrages from the Lord to be strengthened.] To whom the man of God answering, said: "You indeed, Lambert, will not obtain what you desire, that among the Lay-brothers of Villers you be reckoned; but you, Godfrey, of long petition wearied by your insistence, long you will await and re-await, but at last into a Lay-brother of Villers you will be received." Which afterward of the matter proved the outcome. For Lambert, [who to is called, with his two brothers to set out wished; that, because there with them received he was, with them there in the garments of the Order he should be clothed,] by death prevented, of his hope was frustrated: [because neither in the Ripatorium, nor in the Villers monastery a Lay-brother did he profess.] But Godfrey [of the man of God's promise not distrusting, both by his own prayers and others',] frequently to the Lord Abbot William's knees falling, at last of his petition obtained the effect, and in the House which he had chosen, was received. He is [the blacksmith, who up to today in the workshop nearest the monastery, with the Brothers of the same art, dwells.]

[56] [There was a certain woman, who with a long-lasting languor had been sick, a daughter having in life and manners religious, who to her mother laboring with infirmity carefully as much as she could ministered. A certain Monk, Consulted about a sick woman, the girl's anxiety and fatigue compassionating, and desiring her laborious solicitude, which to her mother she exhibited, quickly to be finished, came to the aforesaid man of God, and asked from him about the day of the death of the aforesaid woman to be certified. To whom the man of the Lord, prayer being premised answering; "Let it not be, " he said, "to you a care, my Brother, for this kind of business me to interpellate; he reveals the cause of the disease that would last, since necessary is to that same woman that purgatorial languor, because that of riches, unlawfully acquired it is established her to have been brought up. " When this said the blessed man, he knew not who was the girl and her mother: for the matter that was revealed to him through revelation. Which when had heard the Monk, was astonished: and returned from the man of God, began diligently to inquire about the word which he had heard: and learned that same woman with riches, which from filthy had come gain, from her infant years with all wantonness to have been nourished.

[57] It happened on a certain day, the memorable man to come to the house of a certain woman, and to another after a cured eye, Elisabeth by name, who timorous and faithful a daughter had religious, on whose account the blessed man thither had turned aside. And when to one another they conversed, began that same woman, who indeed in age was of her eye, with which she was troubled, she could be cured, or not: for the pupil of her eye a white film in great part had clouded. To whom he; "You will be cured," he said, "at last, O woman; with difficulty however." Then she, because she knew him a man to be of virtue and of holy conversation, added still him to ask, in how many years surviving she would be in this life. the term of her life. But he, not fully about this matter disclosing to her the truth, when on the next day he had been carried back from the grange, which near was, foretold, her two for entire years in this life to remain surviving, and within half afterward a year, the term of this mortal life she would have. Which so to have happened, the daughter of the aforesaid woman reporting, we have learned.]

[58] A certain girl religious, Gertrude by name, (so to say) in God enclosing, also a recluse-cell of body outwardly to have desired: but because poor she was, whence it to be built she might cause she had not. And when on this account salutarily she was saddened, she spoke to the man of God, and the will which in mind she had conceived to him intimated; [but in the proposed business, herself of all altogether help destitute to be asserted.] Whom the man of God blandly

consoling, no for this matter solicitude to bear admonished, foretelling most certainly and asserting, that in the process of time, without her expenses, word, and for many days the promise awaited. And when for the long-lasting expectation as if a certain weariness of mind she sustained, now to the faithful word of her promiser, now to the Lord's aid diligently she had recourse. After at last days many, the man of much charity and piety, to whom the desire of the poor girl had become known, her business to certain most rich persons brought; and and brought back: from which, that the word of the man of God might be fulfilled, a recluse-cell for her to be built he caused. She obtained therefore the girl her vow, and up to this day in the Bishopric of Cambrai dwelling, from worldly tumults by a double, of heart and of body recluse-cell is hidden; where the ineffable delights of paradise foretasting, and amid of holy love the arms sweetly resting, with joy and exultation of heart the happy of her passing day she awaits.

[59] In the year 1226 he prophesies the schism, [It must not also in silence be passed over, what about the future state of time the holy man predicted. In the year of the Lord one thousand two hundred twenty-six, when as yet no mention was made of that horrible schism, which arose in the Church, nay against the Church, under the Emperor Frederick; began the aforesaid man of God without hesitation to certain persons openly to announce, that within the coming decade very many wars and many tribulations in the Church would be stirred up. But in the next year, which was the second-to-last before his death, began sinister rumors from the parts overseas to be heard, namely that Frederick, against the Lord Pope and the Church of the Lord, to be stirred up the tenth year after by the Emperor Frederick. to rise up would try. What than this evil more cruel? And who could report or write without grief of heart, of how great evils the cause this detestable schism was? Let therefore attend the prudent reader, and think, and rethink the provident conjecturer again, how many and how great things afterward happened; how many and how great perhaps thereafter within the aforesaid decade horrible evils may happen, if after the prophetic word of the man of God, so sudden and unhoped-for, from her protector and his partisans, has suffered the Church tribulation.]

[60] [There are also many other things, according to the estimation of certain persons, and many other things here omitted. which about this blessed man could be related. But to our notice not yet have they come. There are nevertheless also certain other things, which although to our notice have come, yet for the cause of brevity, passing over them, to insert in our narration we have refused, the readers in this part consulting, lest what to them might produce the heaped abundance a weariness. For to whom for the information of his life few things do not suffice, neither many perhaps would suffice. We beseech therefore those, who the blessed man with special before the rest familiarity loved, that by no means grievously they bear, that some things, which about him still to be written could, in silence we have passed over: because, as says Severus Sulpicius about his Martin, we believed it sufficient for the example of the hearers, if only the more excellent things were noted.] Thus far therefore the holy man's virtues and revelations, and his other deeds or sayings, of praise worthy, as we could having pursued, to his happy passing to be described our hand to put we propose.

NOTES.

c Let no one hence infer, Christ being already on the cross dead, the Crown of thorns to have been imposed. Once he bore it in the house of Pilate, afterward the purple being laid aside, his own clothes being put on (which, unless the crown also being removed, to be done could not) never the same he resumed, whatever the painters modern feign, against all ancient images of the Crucified.

the Nethe river, one from Mechelen mile, founded he teaches by Aegidius Bertold, in the year 1227, a notable to this day Abbey of Nuns. There about that Berthold's family, through Belgium most illustrious, many things he and other writers Brabantine [say].

CHAPTER VII.

Arnulf's death; a Rhythmic Encomium and an Epitaph.

[61] When approached the time of his precious death or falling-asleep in Christ, he fell into a sickness, Seized by a disease, [which physicians a fever call, because a certain heat through all the limbs is diffused of the sick.] At once however he cast from himself the instruments of his martyrdom, because the goad of his infirmity which him vehemently straitened, other to his body torments to be applied did not permit. Never also in all his life, [nor even in the days of this infirmity, and thence, as was revealed, about to die,] his God to interpellate did he wish, that to him either the day or time of his passing to reveal he would deign. But it was revealed about a matter of this kind to a certain great name Recluse, who around the festivity of Bl. John the Baptist him from this world to migrate foretold, [before that same with the aforesaid infirmity he was seized.] For in this infirmity so copious of grace droppings from heaven flowed down into his heart, [and so vehemently with divine love's wine his soul was inebriated,] that outwardly of his infirmity wholly he forgot, with all of mind panting desire to him, whom ardently in life his he had loved. little by little he fails, And although from the fervor of the divine love, no of heart or head or of limbs pain himself to feel, he professed; growing however the sickness, and from day to day him more strongly than usual urging, began much the vigor of his body to slacken. And when from the long duration of fasting and the infirmity's weight greatly he was weakened; as if more robust he were in body, to the Brothers to him for solace appointed, [and to Monks familiar to him,] sometimes to him coming, cheerfully also up to the day of his death he spoke. [But he caused sometimes to be brought to him the life-giving of the Lord Body; more often he communicates, and from the hand of the Priest it receiving, meanwhile in his soul, by the saving virtue of the Sacrament, greatly he was comforted.]

[62] On a certain day, when one of the Monks the infirmary had entered, to visit him; and had said to him, that a Recluse, one of his familiar friends, whom he designated by name, grieved and was anxious, because she feared, lest him from that infirmity the way of all flesh to enter should happen; he, as if indignant; "Far be it," he said, "far be this: for here longer to tarry I do not wish, but to my God to go I desire." Why should he not to his God to go desire, [who his God ferventy had served, who his God's commandments had kept,] who for the love of his God himself and all earthly things had despised, who from the eternal delights of paradise so long to be deferred sighed? [for the more the eternal he knew, the more to act in this exile's misery he grieved.]

[63] When again on a certain day another Monk, in medicinal skill of the art instructed, he exults at the announcement of death, sat by him and to one another they conversed; the man of the Lord, as is the custom for the sick, to inquire began from him, whether from the infirmity by which he was held to recover he could, or not. The Monk however, lest the truth to have kept silent afterward he be convicted, if the quality of his infirmity according to his petition to him he did not intimate, according to what from the veins' pulse and the disease's quality to foreknow he could, him not to escape, but to die foretold. At which response at once the blessed man, from joy of heart, his arms thrown around his neck, embraced him; so that that same Monk before the sitting-around sick was with shame suffused, [ignorant that by such an embrace was signified.] And smiling the man of God, said to him: "Amen I say to you, my beloved, that never in all my life, with such great love my heart dilated has been to you, just as today; because by a word of this kind, [a word, I say, not desolatory, but greatly] consolatory, you have gladdened my soul."

[64] and it [his soul placidly departs.] But when from day to day his passing approached; on a certain day when he had risen from his bed, and stood upon his feet, standing beside him him supporting, of bodily strength began suddenly to be destitute. And lo the magnificent man, at the same hour, between the hands of the aforesaid Brother, his knees bent to the ground and his head inclined, with a triple, at three of pauses intervals, gently emitted breath, happily migrated from the body: [and a hair-shirt being spread on the ground, his venerable body upon it was placed:] and the board of the dead being struck at once for him, ran together the Convent of the Monks, who with solemn, with God and his Saints, The Body, carried into the church, so departing pursued him suffrage. And when his body, [washed and placed in a bier] into the church had been carried, the Monks around his body Psalms chanting, night came on. his hairs and teeth are taken away. And when on that night according to custom, Vigils by the Brothers around the dead were kept; certain good thieves a part of the hairs of his head, and seven nevertheless teeth from his mouth snatching, for themselves, as if for a token of his sanctity, kept. And when had dawned the other day, which was the Octave of St. John the Baptist, the Mass according to custom celebrated for him, his holy body venerably to burial was given, the Monks singing with high-sounding voices the Antiphon; "Most clement God," [so that very many of the bystanders even to tears were compuncted.]

[65] He appears, as a boy, in a white and red garment. But after his glorious death, the same blessed man, to a certain handmaid of Christ in the form of a boy, and with a garment partly snowy, partly purple clothed, appeared. Whom when she asked, who he was; he answered; "I am Br. Arnulf, servant of Christ." Then she: "Why in the form of a boy and a two-colored garment do you appear to me?" Who said: "By this that a boyish I present face, to understand you I wish, me among men living, as a boy to have been humble; by the snowy indeed of my garment color, me a clean life to have led and cleanness to have loved; by the purple indeed, the long-lasting, with effusion of blood, of my body affliction acknowledge." These said from the face of the handmaid of Christ the blessed man disappeared. [But she the vision which she had seen to a certain Monk of Villers manifested.]

[66] But again appeared the said man of the Lord to a certain unlettered man, He says he prays for a friend, [but inwardly by the mastership of the Paraclete Spirit instructed, whose name is John; a man marvelously contemplative, to whom up to today many are made revelations by the Lord;] and to him which from the Lord as a reward he had received, intimated: and adding; "Go," he said, "to James the Priest, beloved and familiar to me in Christ, and announce to him from me, that according to what to him once I had promised, daily for his salvation the Lord of Majesty to beseech I do not cease, that from him mercy saving he may obtain." He came therefore to the aforesaid Priest, announcing to him the great and marvelous of the blessed man's soul glorification, and the rest which from that same blessed man he had known through revelation. But what

but on the occasion of one thorny skin, which the blessed man in his life bore, after his death happened, briefly must be reported.

[67] On a certain day when the venerable Prioress of the Thornbush place, The iliac pains are put to flight, Lucia by name, and two Nuns with her, to the gate of the monastery of Villers had come; the business being completed, for which thither they had come; to the nearest of the monastery villa, which Villare is called, proceeding; in a certain house, with two there religious women they passed the night. And it came to pass when they were there, it happened a girl the servant, with a most grievous of the iliac passion bitterness to be tortured, so that in the manner of one giving birth to cry out she was compelled. Which seeing the aforesaid Nuns, they had compassion on her, by the touch of his thorny hair-shirt. and said to one another; "Behold we have here with us a particle of the thorny skin of a hedgehog, which the man of the Lord Arnulf bore: let us apply it to the place of pain, and let us try, whether to rage cease the most sharp of the girl pains, or not." Which when they had done, lo suddenly and unexpectedly, they marveling, the pain all, with which the girl was tortured, through the Lord's grace began to be annihilated. But what is it necessary, that thereafter from the Lord through his servant miracles to be done we should expect, when his whole life in this world miraculous was, and his death nevertheless, as we believe, in the sight of the Lord precious.]

[68] In the year therefore of the incarnate Word one thousand two hundred twenty-eight, So died Arnulf in the year 1228, June 30. [the man of the Lord Arnulf, on account of the unusual martyrdom of his penance, which to his body in manifold ways he inflicted, deservedly of virtues and merits titles adorned,] on the day before the Kalends of July, on the day namely of the commemoration of blessed Paul the Apostle, on the sixth feria Friday about the hour sixth, in which the Lord of majesty on the cross hung, twenty-six years in the Cistercian Order and about six months being completed, migrated from this life, nay from this death to life, [from exile to the homeland, where peace true is, which surpasses all sense; peace upon peace, unfailing exultation:] to which by his mercy his servant he led, and us also at some time may he lead, preventing us in the blessing of sweetness Jesus Christ our Lord, [who came into this world, that we may have life and more abundantly may have it:] to whom is with the Father and the Holy Spirit glory, honor, and dominion, through all ages of ages. Amen.

VERSES

On his Conversation and death.

Arnulf, Lay-brother of the Cistercian Order at Villers in Belgium (B.)

A noble guest going forth from the body of death, Into the homeland returned, to the joys of his first lot: Who fervent in spirit, while he endured hard things, strong, Of the fraternal cohort deserved to bear the standard.

His life was bright with the lamp of merits; Which to himself honeyed, to most seems bitter: Who, a devout man, to the Lord was a dear victim, While to Christ wholly he was offered on the altar of the cross.

Praise to you, highest God, because our Martyr the contests Endured unwonted, that to him new rewards you give. The instruments of the cross, which he endured, astonishing To human minds, by no one I think are to be borne.

And deservedly: since the new passion terrifies all, Whom with oil, King Christ, with yours he does not find anointed. Many with the divine are anointed with chrism, but Anyone for so great miracles I see slow unfit.

There are also contestants strong, but stronger this one Persisted in Christ: because grace greater in this one. To this one therefore the Martyr's crown is owed by right, Whose to good-pleasure with the mind was the flesh prone.

Come now, let us lament the one taken from us, beloved To the world, person; not because without end a crown He takes, sublime, from Christ, but because in the depths After himself us wretches he left, the most strong hero.

You too, who to the Saint owe mindful love, Lament the just one from you too quickly withdrawn; Lament the devout one, to you in each thing known; Lament after his course the runner, lament again, Lament with a tear, that the iron file of death This one filed away, and the filed one the earth devoured.

But he who in flesh fell, this flesh by death's scythe cutting, Lives now in soul better, than he had lived before.

ENCOMIASTIC EPITAPH OF BLESSED ARNULF,

By the Author Francis Moschus.

Arnulf, Lay-brother of the Cistercian Order at Villers in Belgium (B.)

Arnulf under this polished marble Takes his sleep, secure awaiting the day, On which by the trumpet's clangor he will be roused, About to take the crown of eternal glory.

An ascetic he stood out illustrious in virtues, Of Christ bearing branded on his flesh the stigmata; Manners upright, continual prayers, a voice gentler; Shone a faith plainly orthodox, a sure hope, And of God fervent charity and of neighbor.

To all serene, courteous, and affable; To himself severe, to his body indulging nothing. No day saw him moved, nor with harsh Words speaking or threatening: For Christ had to him with honeyed sweetness And unction his spirit filled.

With rods his flesh frequently most dire He tamed, even to an abundance of gore. Nay a little bed of horrid holly he had spread, Sleep putting to flight, his body ruling, to God singing.

"Why to your (a Colleague said someone) Friend, death do you bring to your wretched little body?" "Sin," he said, "not the body I extinguish with scourges." While thus pleasures severe he renounces, Conquered is the flesh with the demon and the world. Rejoices in his trophy the victorious Athlete.

God enriches with the highest gift his client, And with the prophetic blesses his mind with spirit, The arcane granting to obtain heavenly. And now of the blessed and everlasting gift Of life to enjoy it is given to the proven soldier; Where of golden peace he obtains the fruits, And of light pure, which darkness knows not.

Arnulf, us from the citadel languid help, Who by the mass of crimes overwhelmed are submerged; That from of evils the bonds vindicated, One God and triune we may enjoy perpetually.