to you that He will punish those who shall not have defended Him
against His enemies. Fly to arms, and let Christendom re-echo with the
words of the prophet, 'Woe to him who dyeth not his sword with blood!'
"At this fervent address the assembly rang with the shout of the first
crusade, 'God willeth it! God willeth it!' The king, kneeling before
St. Bernard, received from his hands the cross; the queen, Eleanor of
Aquitaine, assumed it, like her husband; nearly all the barons present
followed their example; St. Bernard tore up his garments into crosses for
distribution, and, on leaving the assembly, he scoured the country
places, everywhere preaching and persuading the people. The villages and
castles are deserted," he wrote to the pope; "there is none to be seen
save widows and orphans whose husbands and fathers are alive." Nor did
he confine himself to France; he crossed into Germany, and preached the
crusade all along the Rhine. The emperor, Conrad III., showed great
hesitation; the empire was sorely troubled, he said, and had need of its
head. "Be of good cheer," replied St. Bernard "so long as you defend
His heritage, God himself will take the burden of defending yours." One
day, in December, 1146, he was celebrating mass at Spire, in presence of
the emperor and a great number of German princes. Suddenly he passed
from the regular service to the subject of the crusade, and transported
his audience to the last judgment, in the presence of all the nations of
the earth summoned together, and Jesus Christ bearing his cross, and
reproaching the emperor with ingratitude. Conrad was deeply moved, and
interrupted the preacher by crying out, "I know what I owe to Jesus
Christ: and I swear to go whither it pleaseth Him to call me." The
attraction became general; and Germany, like France, took up the cross.

[Illustration: PREACHING THE SECOND CRUSADE----13]

St. Bernard returned to France. The ardor there had cooled a little
during his absence; the results of his trip in Germany were being waited
for; and it was known that, on being eagerly pressed to put himself at
the head of the crusaders, and take the command of the whole expedition,
he had formally refused. His enthusiasm and his devotion, sincere and
deep as they were, did not, in his case, extinguish common sense; and he
had not forgotten the melancholy experiences of Peter the Hermit. In
support of his refusal he claimed the intervention of Pope Eugeni