the fourteenth century, Dante, seeking in Paradise for some official introduction to the foot of the Throne, found no intercessor with the Queen of Heaven more potent than Saint Bernard.  You can still read Bernard’s hymns to the Virgin, and even his sermons, if you like.  To him she was the great mediator.  In the eyes of a culpable humanity, Christ was too sublime, too terrible, too just, but not even the weakest human frailty could fear to approach his Mother.  Her attribute was humility; her love and pity were infinite.  “Let him deny your mercy who can say that he has ever asked it in vain.”

Saint Bernard was emotional and to a certain degree mystical, like Adam de Saint-Victor, whose hymns were equally famous, but the emotional saints and mystical poets were not by any means allowed to establish exclusive rights to the Virgin’s favour.  Abelard was as devoted as they were, and wrote hymns as well.  Philosophy claimed her, and Albert the Great, the head of scholasticism, the teacher of Thomas Aquinas, decided in her favour the question:  “Whether the Blessed Virgin possessed perfectly the seven liberal arts.”  The Church at Chartres had decided it a hundred years before by putting the seven liberal arts next her throne, with Aristotle himself to witness; but Albertus gave the reason:  “I hold that she did, for it is written, ’Wisdom has built herself a house, and has sculptured seven columns.’  That house is the blessed Virgin; the seven columns are the seven liberal arts.  Mary, therefore, had perfect mastery of science.”  Naturally she had also perfect mastery of economics, and most of her great churches were built in economic centres.  The guilds were, if possible, more devoted to her than the monks; the bourgeoisie of Paris, Rouen, Amiens, Laon, spend money by millions to gain her favour.  Most surprising of all, the great military class was perhaps the most vociferous.  Of all inappropriate haunts for the gentle, courteous, pitying Mary, a field of battle seems to be the worst, if not distinctly blasphemous; yet the greatest French warriors insisted on her leading them into battle, and in the actual melee when men were killing each other, on every battle-field in Europe, for at least five hundred years, Mary was present, leading both sides.  The battle-cry of the famous Constable du Guesclin was “Notre-Dame-Guesclin”; “Notre-Dame-Coucy” was the cry of the great Sires de Coucy; “Notre-Dame-Auxerre”; “Notre-Dame-Sancerre”; “Notre-Dame-Hainault”; “Notre-Dame-Gueldres”; “Notre-Dame-Bourbon”; “Notre-Dame-Bearn";—­all well-known battle-cries.  The King’s own battle at one time cried, “Notre-Dame-Saint-Denis-Montjoie”; the Dukes of Burgundy cried, “Notre-Dame-Bourgogne”; and even the soldiers of the Pope were said to cry, “Notre-Dame-Saint-Pierre.”