IX.

THE DEATH OF ALBERIC.

 

From the time of the admission of this monk, which took place in the year 1104, there is a great gap in the Cistercian annals. The greater portion of those chapters in the greater and smaller Exordium of Citeaux which relate to the abbacy of Alberic have been lost; and nothing more is heard of Stephen till the year 1109, when Alberic died. The Exordium simply mentions his death in the following few words, "Now the man of God, Alberic, after having exercised himself in the school of Christ by the discipline of the rule, for nine years and a half, departed to the Lord, a man glorious in faith and virtue, and therefore to be blessed by God in life everlasting for his merit."

He died on the 26th of January. St. Alberic has been canonized by the veneration of the faithful, and many miracles are said to have taken place at his tomb. Certainly, if any one deserved well of the Church, it was St. Alberic. The regulations which he passed into laws may be called the first statutes of the order, and they first gave to Citeaux a tangible form by which it was distinguished from other monasteries. He worked on in faith, without seeing the fruits of his labours, and he was called away from it when the infant community was in great perplexity. It seemed dying away as its members successively died, and bade fair not to outlast its first generation.

His death was therefore a most painful trial to Stephen, who, was thus deprived of his friend and companion, whom he had found at Molesme, when he first came there, and who had shared with him all his hardships; now he was left alone when he most needed counsel and support. Stephen's spirit seems, however, to have risen with the thought that his dear friend already possessed his crown, and might help him with his prayers even more than he had done with his counsels when alive.

He had as prior to incense and sprinkle with holy water the body of his friend, and to throw earth upon it, when it lay in the grave; and then the procession returned in inverse order, the lay brethren and the convent first, and himself last, with the cross borne before him They then repaired to the chapter, where he addressed them a discourse which has been preserved. "All of us have alike a share in this great loss, and I am but a poor comforter, who myself need comfort. You have lost a venerable father and ruler of your souls; I have lost, not only a father and ruler, but a friend, a fellow-soldier and a chief warrior in the battles of the Lord, whom our venerable father Robert, from the very cradle of our monastic institute had brought up in one and the same convent, in admirable learning and piety.

“He is gone from us, but not from God, and if not from God, then not from us; for this is the right and property of saints, that when they quit this life they leave their body to their friends, and carry away their friends with them in their mind.

“We have amongst us this dear body and singular pledge of our beloved father, and he himself has carried us all away with him in his mind with an affectionate love; yea, if he himself is borne up to God, and joined with Him in undivided love, he has joined us too, who are in him, to God.

“What room is there for grief? Blessed is the lot, more blessed he to whom that lot has fallen, most blessed we to be carried up to such a presence, for nothing can be more joyful for the soldiers of Christ, than to leave this garment of flesh, and to fly away to Him for love of whom they have borne so many toils.

“The warrior has got his reward, the runner has grasped his prize, the conqueror has won his crown, he who has taken possession, prays for a palm for us.

“Why then should we grieve?

“Why mourn for him who is in joy?

“Why be cast down for him who is glad?   

“Why do we throw ourselves before God with murmurs and mournful words, when he, who has been borne up to the stars, is pained at our grief, if the blessed can feel pain; he who by an earnest longing prays that we may have a like consum­mation.   

“Let us not mourn for the soldier who is at rest; let us mourn for ourselves, who are placed in the front of battle, and let us turn our sad and mournful words into prayers, begging our father who is in triumph, not to suffer the roaring lion and savage enemy to triumph over us”.

Such were Stephen's words when he had just parted with his dearest friend; as usual he seems to rise with his difficulties. Indeed he had full need of this bold spirit, for he was about to succeed the sainted Alberic in his most painful dignity. The monks unanimously elected him their abbot, and he found himself with the whole weight of the spiritual and temporal direction of the new convent on his shoulders. William of Malmesbury says that he was absent at the time that he was elected, and some suppose that he withdrew from Citeaux for fear of being elected. It does not, however, appear how his absence could have prevented his election, unless he intended to leave Citeaux altogether, of which there is no record whatever.

Saints fly from dignities, which bring with them rank and splendor; but the poor abbey of Citeaux had nothing to recommend it but hardship and labor, and these were a species of distinction from which Stephen was not the man to shrink. It is therefore most probable that some other motive occasioned his absence, though it does not appear what it was. He elected Robert, the monk who saw the vision which we have related, prior in his room.

STEPHEN AS ABBOT.