V 
 

 ■ ■'/ 
 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 O F T H E . 
 
 L I V E S 
 
 0 F 
 
 ABEILLARD and HELOTSAj 
 
 COMVS.ISISO A PERIOD OP EIGHTY - lOVR YEARS^ 
 
 From 1079 to 1163. 
 
 WITH THEIR GENUINE 
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 FROM THE COLLECTION OF AMBOISE. 
 
 By the Kev. JOSEPH BERINGTON. 
 
 A NEW EDITION. 
 
 VOLUME II. 
 
 BASIL: 
 
 Printed and fold by J. J. tourweisen. 
 
 MDGCXGIII. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 SECOND VOLUME, 
 
 BOOK V, 
 
 lie writes the /lory of his own life — State of the 
 Paraclet — Aheillard's memoirs fall into the hands 
 of Heloifa — . She writes her firfi letter . 
 
 Aheillard's anfwer — Heloifa! s fecond letter 
 
 Abcillard s reply — . Mr. Pope's Heloifa 
 
 Pleloifa’s third letter Aheillard's anfwer Other 
 
 works of Aheillard — St. Bernard vifts the 
 Paraclet. Page i — 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 William of St. Thierry accufes Aheillard The ab- 
 bot of Clairvaux engages in the quarrel The 
 
 council of Sens — Sentence againf Aheillard He 
 
 fets out for Rome — Is entertained at Cluni , and 
 confents to remain th^re — Arnold of Brefcia — 
 Tanchelm of Antwerp — Henry de Bruys. 
 
 Page 77 — i 36 
 
 a 2 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 AheiJlard writes two apologies^His life at Cluni — . 
 He falls fick — And dies at St. Marcellus — His 
 cliaradier — The abbot of Cluni writes an account 
 of his death to Heloifa — She requefs Jus body , 
 and obtains it — Writes to Peter the venerable — . 
 His anfwer — Innocent II. — Eugetiius III. — 
 Adrian IV. — State of England — State of France — 
 The fecond crufade — Death and charader of 
 Suger — of Bernard — of Peter the venerable — 
 Heloifa — Her death. Page i3; — q32 
 
 The Letters of Abeillard and Heloifa. Page a33 —365 
 
 THE 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ABEILLARD and HELOISA. 
 
 B O O K V. 
 
 Aheillard writes the Jlory of his owii llfeState of the 
 Paraclet — Ahelllard's memoirs fall into the hands, 
 of Helolfa — She writes her firjl letter — Ahelllard's 
 anfwer — Helolfa's fecond letter — Ahelllard's reply 
 
 — Mr. Pope's Helofa Heloifas third letter — 
 
 Aheillard' s anfwer -Other works of Abeillard-^Si.. 
 Bernard vifts the Paraclet. 
 
 Annoj 113 ^, 
 
 I It is fome alleviation to the fuffetef , when he 
 
 knows that he is not alone in mifery Forlorn, as 
 
 I defcribed itj was the condition of Abeillard at 
 St Gildas , nor did he fee any end to his fufferings. 
 I Drawing fome confolation from fludy, but more 
 j from religion, with difficulty he wore away the 
 heavy hours. Thus penfive and fad he was^ 
 deeming himfelf the molt wretched of men, when 
 VoL. II. B ’ 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 Abeillard 
 writes the 
 flory ofhi« 
 own life. 
 
3 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 % 
 
 2{ O O K a letter was brought him , written by a friend , 
 V. whom he had left behind him in the neighbour- 
 hood of the Pataclet. This friend, whofe name 
 or condition is not recorded , had long lived 
 in habits of great intimacy with Abeillard \ 
 Perhaps he was the man who accompanied him j 
 as has been related , into the defert , and wh’6 
 was his companion , when together they began 
 to cultivate that inhofpitable fpot. Some great 
 misfortune had befallen him, and he was deep in 
 diftrefs , when , to beg advice and comfort, he 
 wrote to Abeillard, 
 
 The abbot read the letter, and he lamented the 
 hard fate of his friend. But, as I have juft 6b- 
 ferved, there was ftill feme comfort in the refledlion, 
 that he had now a partner in afflidion. To 
 remove the load , as well as he was able , from 
 his friend’s fhoulders, he was moft willing; and he 
 would pour balm into his wounds , if he could. 
 They can feel moft for others, who themfelves 
 have fuffered moft. He conlidered by what method 
 he could beft adminifter confolation; but when 
 again he reviewed his friend’s narration, and the 
 recolledion of his own calamities had due time to 
 operate, the tale, that at firft affeded him, vanifhed 
 into air, and he faw nothing round him but the 
 dark cloud of his own misfortunes^ What then, 
 
 Hift. Calam, 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 3 
 
 lie thought , could fo efficacioufly anfwer his 
 friend’s requeft, as minutely to detail the events 
 of a life , which was but a chequered fcerie of 
 mifery? With it he would compare his own, 
 and from the comparifon derive the happinefs 
 he wanted — He had alfo, in this undertaking, a 
 more felfifh objeft in view; it was to enjoy pleafure, 
 which the unfortunate feel in relating their own 
 hory; and when accumulated before him he 
 fliould behold the whole tiffue of pad events, 
 poflibly prefent evils might appear more fupport- 
 able. What the particular diftreffes of his friend 
 were, he does not fay; intent on himfelf, he lliut 
 his eyes on all the world befides. I have before 
 had occafion to remark that, felfifimefs was a 
 very leading trait in the chara6ler ®f Abeillard. 
 
 He compiled therefore the memoirs of his ovvn 
 life.— It is unneceffary I fliould fay much on this 
 celebrated trafl : the preceding hiftory is faithfully 
 extracted from it, which fhows what are its 
 content?. The work is not ill-written, though it 
 pofTeffes few marks of genius , and lefs of elegance. 
 The age indeed was barbarous j nor can it be , 
 in fuch circumftances , that the mod fplendid 
 talents will ever rife above a certain level. Were 
 the thing poflible, what fubjeft was ever better 
 formed to call abilities into action ? Not a fingle 
 event does he relate, of tvhich he is not himfelf 
 the hero. Yet he is fometimes unintereding , and 
 
 B ? 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
4 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LI\TS OF 
 
 book often tedious, entering on difcufTions which have 
 V. little weight, and refuming arguments which are 
 not of a nature to convince. His portraits are 
 generally caricatured, and his reprefentations of 
 events are evidently overcharged. This we may 
 pardon in a man, who fo often had fuiTered 
 
 unjuflly I am furprifed that his language is not 
 
 more pure, He quotes the belt Roman writers: 
 he had read Cicero ; Seneca is his favorite ; and 
 with Virgil, Ovid, and Lucan, he feems to have 
 been familiar. Among the fathers of the church , 
 Jerom, who has been flyled the chriftian Tully, 
 was his admired author; him he had perufed with 
 avidity , becaufe , befides his language which 
 charmed him, he dilcovered in his life many 
 events, which refembled his own, and from his 
 character and deportment he could draw fome 
 
 lelfons of comfort But with all their imperfections, 
 
 thefe memoirs of Abeillard are valuable , and they 
 are read with pleafure — Having completed the 
 work, he fent it to his friend. 
 
 state of the Since Abeillard had taken his laft leave of the 
 
 paraciet. Paraclet, which was about four or five years, it 
 had greatly profpered. The number of religious 
 was much increafed, and wealth had increafed 
 with their numbers. The fame of Fleloifa was 
 widely fpread j and many ladies of diftinCtion 
 petitioned fox admittance into her convent : the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 5 
 
 fortunes they carried with them were confider- 
 ableh To fecure their extenfive property, and 
 to procure fitch privileges , as were deemed mod 
 expedient, Heloifa applied to Rome. The fame 
 Innocent, whom I have already mentioned, was 
 then pope. He gradoufiy acceded to the petition, 
 and addreffed to them a bull , wherein , after 
 having taken the mmnaftery of the Paraclet under 
 the protedion of the apoftolic fee, he declares 
 that all their poifeihons , as well fuch as they then 
 occupied , as what might hereafter , by lawful 
 means, fall into their hands, Ihould remain to 
 
 them, fecure and unimpaired, for ever Should 
 
 any one dare to infringe this folemn decree, he 
 
 denounces againfl him the fevered: cenfures h By 
 
 another brief, the fame pontiff forbids the billiop 
 or any perfon whatever , to molefi; the nuns in the 
 free choice of their abbefs , or to interfere 'in any 
 of their concerns 3 he ordains moreover , that , on 
 no occafion , they fliould be obliged to quit their 
 convent , not even wlien their abbefs was to be 
 bleffed , but that the ceremony Ihould be per- 
 formed within their own walls A good pried, 
 named Gundricus , about the fame time , gave to 
 the Paraclet an edate, to which he had fucceeded; 
 and this grant alfo was confirmed to them by the 
 Ptoman pontiff. 
 
 ’ Vie d’Abeil. vol. ii. p. 20. * Abeii. Gp. p. j 46. * Ibid. 
 
 B 3 
 
 O O K 
 V. 
 
6 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Thus did fortune fiiower down her gifts on the 
 V", Paraclet 5 but Heloifa was the favorite child that 
 attracted her partial notice. The lovely abbefs had 
 indeed reafon to be fatisfied with her fituation. 
 Every day, frefh fuccefs feemed to attend her 
 endeavours; flie was profperous without doors, and 
 within the walls of her convent , harmony , hap- 
 pinefs, piety, and religious difcipline, uniting m 
 facred concord, diffufed joy over every counten- 
 # ance, and peace into every cell. Agnes, the niece 
 
 of the abbot of St. Gildas , was her priorefs , and 
 in her flie repofed the principal adminiftration of 
 their internal economy h Thus flie was more at 
 liberty to purfue her favorite occupations of ftudy 
 and fequeftered meditation. The management of 
 their temporal affairs was in the hands of proper 
 
 agents. The prompt acquiefcence which Rome 
 
 fliowed to her petitions , demonftrated the high 
 opinion entertained of her merit , and the circum- 
 ffance doubtlefs was flattering to herfelf. 
 
 So admired, fo honored, fo beloved, if Heloifa 
 was not happy , we muff look for the caufe in 
 fome untowardnefs of difpofition, or rather in a 
 natural relu£lance, which her mind feemed to bear 
 towards the confinement of a cloiftered life. But 
 this is conjectural; we have no reafon to fay that 
 file was not happy. Abeillard, indeed, had deferted 
 
 * Vie d’Abeil. p. 20. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. y 
 
 the Paraclet; but the illnatured refle£lions of the 
 world had compelled him to it: her good fenfe 
 therefore told her that it was her duty to fubmit. 
 If fince that time, all correfpondence had ceafed 
 between them, llie could afcribe it ftill to a certain 
 delicacy of chara£fer. Placed as he was at the 
 head of an undifciplined monaflery, good exam- 
 ple , fhe knew , was elTentially necelfary in the 
 fuperior. The time might come , when again file 
 and her fifters would enjoy the happinels of his 
 fociety and of his learned converfation. In this 
 view Ihe relied. 
 
 The letter of confolation, which ^beillard ad- 
 drefled to his friend, had been received. It was 
 natural he lliould admire it , and lliould read it to 
 others. Copies of it were taken, and the original 
 itfelf circulated from hand to hand. It was at laft 
 taken to the Paraclet *. The connexion betwixt 
 that houfe and Abeillard was well known, and 
 it was an obvious thought , that the abbefs , in 
 particular , might like to read a flory , wherein Ihe 
 had borne fome part, and the whole of which, 
 befides being an ingenious performance , contained 
 the hiflory of the life of Abeillard. — Heloifa took 
 the letter from the hand of him who brought it, 
 The fuperfcription at once told her by whom it 
 was written , and llie opened it with eagernefs. 
 With the fame eagernefs her eye ran over the 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 Abeillard’s 
 memoirs fall 
 into the 
 hands of 
 Heloifa. 
 
 4 
 
 B 4 
 
 Ep. Helois. 
 
8 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK contents ; and foon , indeed , llie felt how much 
 V, her heart was interefled in the flory. It was the 
 
 circumftantial detail of his life and adventures , 
 and of their joint loves and joint misfortunes. At 
 every line fhe pitied him ; this was a fentiment fbe 
 might lawfully indulge; and as file pitied him, 
 again flie began to love. — At no time, it appears, 
 can the ruling paffion be fo far fubdued, as not 
 to be immediately re-excited, when caufes are 
 applied with which its action has been ftrongly 
 united. — Having read the letter , fhe gave it back 
 to her officious friend % and retired in confufion 
 to her cell. 
 
 We well know , for they have been faithfully 
 brought down to us, what were the thoughts 
 which now ruffled into the breafi; of Heloifa. The 
 clofiiig paffages of his letter, wherein he related 
 what he had fuffered from his monks, and how 
 great the danger ftill was, to which he was hourly 
 expofed , dwelt heavic^ u her mind. A thoufand 
 times file wiflied it were in her power to fuccour 
 him ; and file formed a thoufand plans, as impra^li- 
 cal)le as they were wild Abeillard was in Britany, 
 and file, a cloiftered nun, was immured at the 
 Paraclet! To providence file could only look, and 
 on her knees , file prayed , that heaven would 
 protect him. How truly miferable had his life 
 
 ^ Ep. Helois. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 9 
 
 been , and yet what mortal was ever more entitled 
 to the fmiles of fortune ! — Her recolleftion now 
 returned upon the evefits, in which fiie was per- 
 fonally concerned. He had told thefn, indeed; but 
 was it not with fome indifference? The narration 
 of his own immediate troubles was prolix and 
 circumffantial ; here he was brief and rapid. Yet 
 how much had flie not loved him; and what facri- 
 fices had fhe not made to pleafe him ! Did all this 
 merit no return? — This letter itfelf was a proof, 
 how fmall was the fpace flie occupied in his heart. 
 A man , whom he hardly knew , requefted his 
 advice , and he had given it in a manner that was 
 almoft new and unprecedented: he had poured 
 into his bofom all the public, and many of the 
 private, circumftances of his life. To her, for five 
 long years, he had not written a fmgle line! Was 
 file even fure Ihe was not erafed from his memory ? — 
 The penfive abbefs indulged the fad refle£Hon , 
 and feemed ready to fink under it. 
 
 The pious fiflerhood foon noticed that their 
 abbefs was more fad than ufual : her countenance 
 grew wan ; and llie never left her cell, unlefs when 
 the duties of her flation compelled her to it. They 
 were anxious to know the caufe of the hidden 
 change , and , with a pleafmg confidence , they 
 afked it of her, Heloifa told them of the letter flie 
 had read , and of the forlorn condition , in which 
 Abeillard, their common friend and benefa<Tor, 
 
 o o K 
 
 V. 
 
rook 
 
 V. 
 
 She writes 
 her firft let- 
 ter. 
 
 10 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 then was. They heard the news with trepidation, 
 and in all, but love, fympathized with the feelings 
 of their abbefs *. What flep could be taken to 
 relieve their anxious bofoms, they knew not; but 
 unanimoufly they requefted that fomething might 
 be done. 
 
 This folicitude of her filters was very pleafing 
 to the mind of Heloifa. Again flie revolved the 
 diftrefsful train of her reflections; and foon it 
 occurred to her, that there was one expedient in 
 her power, which poflibly might anfwer her moft 
 fanguine defires. She would write to the abbot 
 of St. Giidas , praying that , without delay , he 
 would inform her of his fituation ; and , at the 
 fame time, flie would difburden her mind of fome 
 other thoughts, the impreflion of which was very 
 painful. — But this fcheme , from a word flie lets 
 fall in her letter, flie feems not to have executed 
 immediately. Bufinefs perhaps hindered her; or 
 it might be the tumult of her own mind , which , 
 
 with difficulty, could be reduced to order. The 
 
 letter was , at length, completed, and flie difpatch- 
 ed it into Britany. 
 
 There is fome alfeClation in the addrefs of this 
 letter: flie ftyles Abeillard, her mafter, her father, 
 her hufband , her brother ; and herielf his hand- 
 maid, his daughter, his wife, his fifler. The 
 language of real paflion is feldom fo precife. — She 
 
 * Ep. Helois. i^. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ii 
 
 then tells him , that accidentally fhe had feen the b 0 0 K 
 letter, he had written to his friend, and with v. 
 what ardor flie had read it ; Hie wanted comfort , 
 and looked for it from his words ; but how mifer- 
 ably had fhe been difappointed !_She recapitulates 
 the fubftance of his ftory , and remarks how admir- 
 ably he had fulfilled the promife made to his friend; 
 but on the hearts of his daughters of the Paraclet 
 cruel was the effedl, this too faithful tale had made ! 
 
 She begs him , for Chrift’s fake , to inform them , 
 and that repeatedly, of each circumftance of his 
 prefent dangers. I and my lifters , oontinues flie, 
 
 « are the foie remains of all your friends : let us , 
 
 « at leaf!’, partake of your joys and forrows. The 
 “ condolence of others is ufed to bring fome relief 
 “ to the fufferer , and a load , laid on many 
 « Ihoulders, is more eafily fupported.” ^ She def- 
 cants on the foft intercourfe and plealing effedls of 
 letters ; a method by which he may always be 
 prefent with them , and of which , if Abeillard 
 only be willing, no invidious paflion or impeoiment, 
 can ever bereave them. 
 
 She reminds him by what tics he is bound to 
 the Paraclet ; it was he only who had ere^led its 
 oratory , and he had eftabliflied its congregation : 
 but can the young plant profper , if it be not often, 
 watered with peculiar care? “We are women, 
 
 “ Sir, fays fhe, by nature weak and delicate. Thus 
 “ had our fociety been long formed , it would ftdi 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “be expofed to danger. But now. if you give us 
 V. not all your attention and all your care , ho^v 
 
 “ Biall we brave the ftorm ? ” — She tells him of 
 the labor he throws away on the ungrateful 
 vineyard of St. Gildasj that his admonitions are all 
 in vain ; and that the treafures which he fquanders 
 on his enemies , Ihould- rather be kept for thofe , 
 wlio are docile and obedient. “ But I will fay 
 “ nothing of others, continues llie: think only how 
 “ much you OM^e to me. Whatever obligations 
 “ bind you to the devout part of my fex, are all 
 “ concentred in your Heloifa.” 
 
 Now fhe enters on her own immediate inter ells , 
 and in a manner the moft forcible and ‘affedling , 
 
 expoflulates with the ungrateful and felfiHi man 
 
 She fpeaks of his negledful ufage, when, at his 
 command, flie firft left the world. “Not even 
 “ then , fays flie , when long grief had worn me 
 “ down, did you come to fee me, or even fend 
 “ me one line of comfort.” — She recals to his 
 mind the excefs of her love for him ; flie fpeaks of 
 the lofs file fuffered when flie loft him; flie defcribes 
 the facrifice flie made of herfelf and of all her 
 difpofitions to his will, and the difmtereftednefs 
 with which flie made it. In a flight of romantic 
 paflion file recurs to the ideas , whicli wildly filled 
 her breaft , when in the name of mijlrefs llie could 
 difcover fo many charms, and when flie would 
 
ABEILLARD AND H ELOISA. i3 
 
 have deemed it more eligible to be that to b 
 Abeillard , than to be the wife of Casfar. “-For 
 “ the more I humbled myfelf before you , fays 
 “ hie , the greater right I thought I Ihould have ta 
 “ your favor; and thus alfo I hoped the lefs to 
 “ injure the great reputation you had acquired. ” 
 Thefe things ilie recapitulates to Ihow him, what 
 pretenfions flie now has to expe6l fome return. 
 
 She then reviews, with mucli complacency, the 
 fplendid endowments and the endearing charader 
 of Abeillard, which had fo jufUy engaged her love. 
 She recounts the general admiration which follow- 
 ed him , the envy with which her own happinefs 
 was contemplated, and the melancholy reverfe of 
 fortune which foon cnfued. That fhe was the 
 occafion of his misfortunes , hie owns , but yet that 
 fhe was not guilty: becaufe it is the motive from 
 which we adl, and not the event of things, which 
 makes us criminal : equity weighs the intention. 
 
 “ What, at all times, were my difpofitions in your 
 “ regard , hie fays , you who knew them can only 
 “ judge. To you I refer all my aftions, and on 
 “ your decifion I reft my caufe. ” 
 
 Again llie turns to his negledlful treatment of her, 
 during the many years ftie refided at Argenteuil , 
 j and fhe entreats him , if he can , to account for 
 i it ; or elfe that llie muft herfelf fay , what her own 
 fufpicions are. Thefe fufpicions flje then declares , 
 
 o o K 
 
 V, 
 

 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 I S O O K and they prove that , in fpite of love , flie was 
 V, not blind to the failings of Abeillaird. “ But 
 “ how much is it my willi, proceeds Heloifa , that 
 “ your own fell -love could devife fome excufe, 
 “ which might eafe my pain ! Were I able , even 
 “ I would willingly invent fome pretext , which , 
 “ to extenuate your fault , might feem to lefferi the 
 “ pretenfions I have to your notice. ” 
 
 Drawing to a conclufion , again llie propofes her 
 petition , that he would write to her ; a petition , 
 Ihe trufis , which he will not find extravagant or 
 difficult of execution. But if he prove fo niggardly 
 in words , what reafon has ffie to think he will be 
 more liberal in things of confequence ? Even at 
 this moment, flie urges , ffie is a vi<Rim to his will ; 
 his will it was , and not religion , which called 
 her to the cloifier. If then ffie ceafes to have me- 
 rit in ihis eyes j vain indeed is all her labor 1 
 From God flie can look for no reward, for whofe 
 fake hitherto, ffie confefles, flie has done nothing. 
 
 She upbraids him with the cirCumftance of his 
 having infilled that flie fliould put on the veil , 
 before he would furrender his liberty ; and in 
 that inltance , ffie fays , his millrufl; of her tore her 
 heart , and that flie bluflied for him. Could he 
 have reafon to miftrull her, when he knew that!, at 
 a fingle word , flie would have accompanied him 
 to the gates of eternal mifery ? “ Were you lefs 
 fure of my love, continues ffie, you would be 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i5 
 
 “ more folicitous : but becaufe my conduft has B o o ic 
 “ rendered you fecure j you negledl me. Once v. 
 more recoiled what I have done for you, and 
 how great is the debt you owe me. ” 
 
 There was a time , flie acknowledges , when the' 
 motive of her attachment might have appeared un- 
 certain to others : it might have been the love of 
 pleafure, or the indulgence of vanity. It could now 
 be miftaken no longer ; for in obedience to him , 
 
 Ihe had facrificed all hef inclinations, and had 
 referved nothing, the hope only excepted, that by 
 fo doing, file fliould become more perfedly his. 
 
 — Then thus fhe concludes. — “ By that God , td 
 “ whom your life is confecrated, I conjure you 
 “ give me fo much of yourfelf as is at your difpofal, 
 
 ‘‘ that is , fend nie fome lines of confolation. Do* 
 
 “ it with this defign at leafl , hat my mind being 
 “ more at eafe, I may ferve God with more alacrity. 
 
 “ When formerly the love of pleafure was your 
 “ purfuit, often did I hear from you. In your 
 “ fongs the name of Heloifa was made familiar to 
 “ every tongue : it was heard in every flreet : the 
 “ walls of every houfe repeated it. With how 
 “ much more propriety might you now call me to 
 God, than you did then to fcenes of diflipation? 
 
 “ Weigh your obligations , and attend to my 
 requeft. A few words hiall dole this long 
 epiftle.— My only friend, farewell” 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 i6 
 
 BOOK The critic , the moralift , and the man of fenti^ 
 V. ment, will find much to admire in this charming 
 letter : but it is the original they mull read, and 
 to that I refer them — In it the philofophic abbefs 
 difplays great knowledge of the human heart j llie 
 aims not to difguife her own weakneffes , and the 
 imperfe6lions of Abeillard, whilll flie extols his 
 virtues and blazons his endowments , flie holds up 
 before him in colors full of truth and exprefhon. 
 Seldom has fuch love as her’s been fo free-fpoken 
 and impartial. That his too apparent ingratitude 
 and neglect of her Ihould have roufed her refent- 
 ment, was natural j but in terms liow gentle does 
 Hie utter her reproaches, and how mild is the edge 
 of her ffiarpeft reproofs! She feems not to have 
 written a line , which the indulgence of affe6lion 
 had not firR retouched and fitted to its place. It 
 may feem that Hie rates lier own merits very 
 highly ; but they only can think it , who have not 
 weighed her condud: in the mind of Abeillard , at 
 leafl, there could be no meafure found by which to 
 appreciate tlieir juft value. There they fliould have 
 rifen, in proportion to his own ingratitude, which, 
 I fear, was incommenfurable. Her requeft was of all 
 things the moft moderate j and when flie confidered 
 with what promptnefs he had entered into a minute 
 detail of his life , to fatisfy tlie wiflies of a man , 
 he called his friend , was it much to defire a few 
 
 lines 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 
 
 17 
 
 lines only, and thefe were to regard himfelf? But BOOK 
 it Teems , ilie fnfpecled that even this rc-quch; would V» 
 hardly be ’complied with. 
 
 The moral tendency of fome pafTages may be 
 controverted. But there will foon be a better 
 occafion of difculhng this difficulty. Suffice it 
 now to fay , that llie is writing in confidence 
 to her hufband ana her friend j and therefore^ 
 witliout referve , llie lays her thoughts before him. 
 
 In her inflruTions to the nuns of the Paraclet, 
 very diflerent, I fuiped , would have been her 
 language. But on no occafion does fhe pretend to 
 juflify the unbounded flrength of paffion , flie 
 once felt for Abeillard ; flie rather treats it as a 
 \Veaknefs ; at all events flie only expreffes its 
 reality as a fadl, which from him was entitled to 
 call for fome return. — In great diffidence llie 
 acknowledges how much flie wants affiflance and 
 advice ; humbly flie confeffes her unworthinefs 
 before God, for whofe fake flie had done nothing; 
 and fhe looks to peace of mind, as the only flate , 
 in which the duties of her calling could be pro- 
 perly obferved.- 
 
 The language and eompofition of this letter are 
 both admirable. There is fometimes a purity , a 
 precificn, a perfpicuity, a concifenefs, a nerve in 
 her expreffions , which , even in the bell days of 
 lloman latinity, would have been read with 
 pleafure. Where Hie falls from claffic elegance , 
 
 Vox. II 
 
 C 
 
R O O 
 
 V. 
 
 i8 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 it is the fubje^l, or tJie barbarous idiom of the 
 age, from which the ablefl; fcholars can jiever free 
 themfelves , which drav/s her doAvn. Compare 
 her writing with that of Abeillard or even of Ber- 
 nard himfelf, and preference mull; be given to the 
 female pen. — The fubjeT flie difcuffes with great 
 art j her arguments are well difpofed ; Ihe adduces 
 authorities to enforce lier reafoning; and llie turns 
 the objedl in every diredlion, that its whole efficacy 
 may be felt. Tlie interefls of lovers were never 
 in the hands of a more able advocate ; and never 
 was the breaft of ingratitude fearched with an 
 addrefs , at once fo peneti'ating , and fo indulgent. 
 Abeillard’s diflreffes called for indulgence ; and 
 had he not found it from the pen of Heloifa , her 
 addrefs to him, which I admire, would not have 
 poffelfed that foftnefs of characler, which is its 
 greateft beauty. 
 
 Broken by ill-ufage as was the abbot of St. Gildas, 
 the reader perhaps will be difpofed to fympathize 
 with his feelings , as he reads Heloifa ’s letter. 
 What emotions it excited, we know not, as guard- 
 edly he feems to have concealed them ; but floic 
 as he was, unlefs apathy had deadened every 
 fibre , he muft have felt its general tendency. 
 Eltranged from the world and pleafure by habit 
 and by necelhty, the ardent language of Heloifa 
 would find no refponfive motions in his heart. 
 He might pity her j perhaps he even might fmile at 
 
ABEILLAllD AND HELOISA. 
 
 19 
 
 her folly. But religious, prudent, pious, as he now BOOK 
 was, it would have ill-befeemed his charadder, to V* 
 have exhibited any fyrnptoms of tendernefs , or to 
 have returned an anfwer to Heloifa, from which fuel, 
 might have been added to a flame already too fervid. 
 
 As a friend it was his duty to Bill the rifing 
 florin; and nothing, he might judge, would more 
 contribute to it, than language, which lliould breathe 
 religious felf- denial and mortification; than fenti- 
 merits full of piety, of fubmiffion to the divine 
 will , and of folicitude for the eternal welfare of 
 his foul. So thinking , he clofed Heloifa ’s letter , 
 and wrote as follows.- 
 
 “ If, fince our converfron from the world to Abeiiiard’s 
 God , I have not yet written, either to inflru^^t 
 or to confole you, it was not done negleiflingly ; 
 
 “ afcribe it to the high opinion I have ever 
 “ entertained of your wifdom and prudence. 
 
 “ How could I think , that die flood in need of 
 ‘‘ my affiftance , to whom heaven had fo largely 
 “ diflributed its beft gifts ? l ou w’^ere able , I knew, 
 
 “ by example , as by word , to inftrudl the ignorant j 
 “ to comfort the pufillanlmous , and to admonilli 
 “ the luke -warm. When priorefs of Argenteuil, 
 
 “ thefe duties, I remember, you ufed long ago to 
 “ pra£life; and if now you give the fame attention 
 to your daughters , as you did then to your 
 “ fifters , more is not requifite , and all that I 
 “ could fay would be of no value. But if, in. 
 
 C 2 
 
20 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “ your humility , you think otherwife , and my 
 V. inflruftions , in tlie bufmers ol relioion . can 
 
 “ avail you any tiling , tell me only , on what 
 “ fubjecls , you would have me write , and as God 
 “ lliall diredlme, I will endeavour to fatisly yoi,i.’' 
 He then thanks heaven 5 which liad inlpired the 
 pious nuns of theParadet with a folicitudein regard 
 to the dangers , to which his life Avas expofed , 
 hoping that by their prayers he lliould thus expe- 
 rience the divine Proteclion. “ And with this view 
 “ principally, continues he, it is , that I haftened 
 “ to fend you the form of prayer, which you 
 ‘‘ once fo earneflly rec[uefted from me , you , my 
 “ filler, formerly dear to me in the world, but 
 “ now moft dear to me in Chrifl. Thus may 
 “ you offer to God a conflant facrifice of prayers , 
 ‘‘ urging him to pardon our great and manifold 
 “ fins , and to avert the hourly dangers which 
 threaten me. 
 
 He talks much of the powerful efficacy of pray- 
 er, which he proves from the holy feriptures, 
 infilling particularly on the examples of wives 
 praying for their hufbands , and on the general pre- 
 valence of female fupplications. He tells her how 
 much he confides in die prayers of the nuns of the 
 Paraclet, and in her own, to which, as her hufband , 
 he claims a peculiar right. — At the times he had for- 
 merly lived with them at the Paraclet , it was their 
 pradace 3 at the end of each church- fervi ce to 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 2i 
 
 fubjoin a prayer for their founder: he now fends 
 them another prayer , adapted to his own perilous 
 fituation , which he requeils , to prove that their 
 charity is fmcere, they will as often repeat for 
 him , as they bend their knees before the throne 
 of grace. It runs thus: O God, who by thy 
 
 “ fervant didft here affemble thy handmaids in thy 
 holy name, grant, we befeech thee, that he be 
 protected from all adverfity , and be reftored 
 “ fafe to us thy fervants ! ” 
 
 Having , as he trufls , fecured the prayers he 
 wanted, he goes on folemnly : “ But if, by the 
 « permiffion of heaven , my enemies fiiould fo far 
 “ prevail as to take away my life; or if, by any 
 “ chance, while abfent from you, I fliould be 
 “ numbered with the dead ; it is my prayer , that 
 ‘‘ my body be conveyed to the Paraclet. There 
 “ my daughters , rather my fiflei’s in Chrifl. 
 “ turning their eyes often to my tomb , will more 
 “ llrongly be excited to petition heaven for the 
 “ repofe of my foul. And indeed , to a mind 
 “ penetrated with grief, and ftricken by the dark 
 “ view of its crimes, where can be found a refling 
 place , at once fo fafe , and fo full of hope , as 
 “ that which , in a peculiar manner , bears the 
 “ name of , and is dedicated to , the Comforter ? 
 “ Befides, I know not, wiiere a chriftian could 
 “ find a better grave, than iii the fociety of holy 
 ^ women confecrated to God.” 
 
 C 3 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
2 ? 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book Ele concludes; “ It is my moft earneft requefl, 
 V. “ that the folicitude you now too flrongly feel 
 for tlie prefervation of my life, you wiU tJien 
 '' extend to my foul. Carry into my grave the 
 fam% degree of love, you Ihowed me when 
 “alive, that is, let your fuflrages for me be 
 “ peculiar and inceffant. — Live , and farewel: 
 “ larewel, my lifters; live, but in Chrift: remember 
 “ Abeillard ! ” 
 
 The reader, whom Heloifa’s romantic epiftle 
 had left animated and greatly interefted in lier 
 caufe , will, I know, be fadly difappointed by 
 this cold reply. To me it is all I looked for , and 
 it ftamps indelibly the charadler, I had given to 
 the man. Befides, is not the contrait pleafmg , 
 which, by lines fo ftrong, divides the hearts of 
 two, whom fabulous report has fo often faid were 
 made for one another? — He evades very artfully 
 the charge of ingratitude, by a complimentary 
 excule, which, if it did not fatisfy, would, he 
 knew, pleafe her vanity, — His earneft requeft for 
 prayer Ihows how much he prized his own con- 
 cerns, and how much afllidtion had lowered the 
 exuberance of his foul. When hp dwells on its 
 efficacy, it is a dull difcullion ; and when he 
 prefcribes the new form, which is daily to be 
 recited for his fafety, we fee the abbot, big in 
 his own importance , and feffilli as became his 
 dignity. 
 
ABEILLARD ANDHELOISA. 03 
 
 The latter part of his addrefs is folemn and b 
 affeTing; but had he thought lefs of himfelf, or 
 more of Heloifa, never could it have fallen from 
 his pen : he would have felt , that every word was 
 armed with a point , far too Iharp for her irritable 
 texture. But in the difpofitions , I have defcribed, 
 what would he not rifk m the gratification of his 
 ruling palfion? He concludes in a diflich, the 
 fentiment of which is appofite, and very analogous 
 to the general features of the piece. 
 
 On the whole , though the letter be not fuch , 
 as a modern novelift would \vrite ; yet , as it came 
 in charadler from Abeillard , it merits commen- 
 dation ; he meant it well. The event, indeed, 
 will fliow , that he was not fufficiently guarded ; 
 and perhaps a lefs auflere reply would have fuc- 
 ceeded better. —In point of compofition, it is in 
 the ftyle of all his other writings , harfh, inelegant^ 
 languid, and fometimes intricate. It harmonized 
 with his mind. — We fliall now fee , how it was 
 received by Heloifa. 
 
 Agitated by the workings of her imagination , 
 jlie had looked with impatience for the return of 
 her meflenger, * It wa.? an anxious moment. Many 
 times file repented , that hie had faid fo much ; 
 her letter might offend , or it might give him pain. 
 
 It occurred fometimes to her, that fhe had omitted 
 things of the greateft moment , and that her long 
 addrefs was too trifling to merit notice. Was fhe 
 
 C 4 
 
 O O K 
 V. 
 
H 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book fiire , the mefTenger would find him ? He might 
 y* have abfconded from the purfuits of his enemies; 
 or the fatal ffroke might have been given , which 
 was for ever to deprive her of his fight ! Should 
 he deign to anlwer her letter; what tidings would 
 it bring ? — In this wild uncertainty her mind 
 was toffed , wlien tlie meffenger arrived , and he 
 brought her an anfwer from Abeillard. 
 
 He who has experienced that inanition of heart, 
 which difappointment caufes , when expeHation 
 has been highly raifcd, will beft know what 
 Heloifa felt in perufmg thefe cold and inaufpicious 
 lines. There was not a fingle fentimcnt whicii 
 met her feelings. A formal compliment , mucli 
 about prayer and its efficacy, were the principal 
 topics; and he clofed this languid fermon by a 
 cruel requeft, which infenfibility only, or the 
 certain profpeH of diffiolution, could have didlated. 
 Slie hung over the heavy words ; ffie read them 
 to her fjfters; a general conflernation prevailed; 
 they faw the affaffin’s knife pointed at the breaft 
 of their dearefl friend ; they turned their thoughts 
 to heaven , but the prayer he liad fent them, and 
 which they now attempted to repeat, could find 
 no utterance. Heloifa, who ffiould Jiave moderated 
 this burfl of intemperate wailing, only added to it 
 by her fighs and forrowing geftures : but in her it 
 was itot the grief of apprehenfion only which 
 interefled; ffie had othet thoughts to contend 
 
ABEILLARD AND H)EL0ISA. (^5 
 
 with, fiich as difappointment , ingratitude, fufpi- 
 cion , and unavailing love had raifed. In this 
 diforder^ again file refclved to dilhurden her heavy 
 mind to Abeillard. — The moment which the 
 agitated mind chufes for the exprefTion of its 
 feelings , is of all the leaft adapted to the difplay 
 of reafon , and the ufe of temperate , congruous , 
 and guarded language. Such compofitions muff 
 ever be read with candor, and be judged with 
 indulgence. Why I have made this remark , will 
 foon be evident 
 
 The opening of this fecond letter is rather capti- 
 ous and unimportant Heloifa expreffes a furprife 
 
 that , in the very front of his lafl falutations 
 Abeillard fliould have placed her name before his 
 own ; this, Ihc fays , was contrary to the ufual flyle 
 of epiftolary eorrefpondence , and even contrary 
 to the obvious order of thin p's. 
 
 O 
 
 She then feizes upon thofe concluding lines of 
 his letter : ‘‘But if, by the permiflion of heaven, 
 my enemies fliould fo far prevail as to take away 
 “ my life , &c. ” and fne afks with emphafis : 
 “ Oh Abeillard ! how could your mind fuggefl fuch 
 “ ideas; how could your hand write themP No, 
 “ no ; God will never fo far forfake his fervants , 
 “ as to perpetuate our lives, when you are gone: 
 “ lie will not give us that kind of exiflence , which 
 “ is ten times worfe than death. ” She reminds 
 him, diat it will be his duty rather, who had 
 
 B P O K 
 
 V, 
 
 Heloifa’s fe» 
 cunU letter. 
 
26 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK affembled them at the Paraclet , to celebrate their 
 V. obfeqnies , and to commend their fouls to God. 
 She entreats him : In future , do , Sir , be more 
 
 ‘‘ cautious in your exprelhons. Already, alas ! vve 
 “ are wretched enough ; why fhould you make 
 us more fo j why , before tlie hour , deprive us 
 “ of that poor life, which we drag along with 
 “ difficulty? Each day is fufficiently loaded with 
 “ its own mifery; and that laft fatal one, covered 
 “ with a robe of bitternefs , will bring to each of 
 “ us an ample ffiare of forro\v.” — The addrefs is 
 folemn and alTedling. 
 
 She goes on ; ‘‘ You requefl , ffiould your death 
 happen whilft abfent from us , that your body 
 ‘‘ be conveyed to the Paraclet : thus , you think , 
 with your image ever before us , to derive 
 gi. eater beneht from our prayers. I3o you 
 “ then imagine, ( ffie exclaims in a flrain of 
 “ empaffioned eloquence , ) we can ever foraet 
 “ you ? Or could that be a feafon for prayer , 
 “ when general confternation ffiall have banilhed 
 “ every tranquil thought : when reafon ffiall have 
 loft its fway , and the, tongue its utterance : 
 ‘‘ when the mind , in frantic rage , rebellimr 
 “ againft its maker , ffiall rather feek to provoke 
 ‘‘ his anger by complaints , than to affuage him 
 “ by fupplications ? — God grant that day may be 
 our laft ! If the foie mention of your death 
 F' thus ftrike us to the heart; what would the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 27 
 
 reality not do? It is our prayer to heaven , 
 that we may not furvive you ; that we may 
 never have to perform that office , which we 
 “ expedl from your hands. ” 
 
 Again hie entreats him to be more confiderate 
 
 O 
 
 for the fake of them all ; at lead, that he will 
 fpare Heloifa , by refraining from all expreflions 
 which, like the fhafts of death, penetrate her 
 foul. — Tlie fucceeding lines are placid and beau- 
 tiful ; “ For the mind worn down by grief is a 
 hranger to repofe ; plunged in troubles , it is 
 little able to think on God. Will you impede 
 “ his fervice , to whom you have devoted our 
 lives ? It were to be wifhed that every neceffary 
 event , which brings forrow with it , might 
 take place, when we expecfl it leaft: for if that 
 “ torment us , ^vhich human forefight cannot 
 “ avert, it only raifes unavailing fears. ” To this 
 Ihe applies the Avords of her favorite Lucan , 
 
 Sit fi-bitum quocicumque paras ; fit c$ca futuri 
 
 Mens hominum fati ! Liceat fperare timenti. 
 
 Lib. ii. 
 
 The lafl words of the poet , may he that fears , 
 fill live in hope ^ touched an irritable fibre, with 
 iwliich, in the breaft of Heloifa, was too nearly 
 affociated a long feries of calamitous reflexions j 
 and its motion raifed a florm , which the reader , 
 perhaps, will view with wonder. 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
«S HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Hope ! cried flie; and if I lofe you, wha: have 
 V. “ I to hope for? MufI: I remain a pilgrim liere, 
 when you, my oniy comfort, are gone from 
 “ me? But even in you what comfort have!, fave 
 only the thought, that ftill you live ? All other 
 ‘‘ joys are forbidden to me: even the privilege of 
 “ your company it feems is too much forHe’oifa! ” 
 Having indulged this firfl fally of paffion , flie 
 IS hurried impetuoufiy forward. — ‘‘ May I then 
 fay, that heaven has been my relentlefs perfe- 
 cutor ! If you call it clemency, where is cruelty 
 ‘‘ to be found ? Fortune , that favage dtfliny , 
 “ has fpent againfl me every arrow of Iier rage: 
 file has none left to throw at others. Her quiver 
 was full , and flie exhaufted it on me : nortals 
 have no longer caufe to dread her : nor if 
 “ there were a lhaft left, would it find in me 
 ‘‘ a fpot to light on. But though bleeding at 
 every pore , my enemy does not Bay her bar- 
 ‘‘ barous hand : fhe fufpends the fatal Broke , and 
 ‘‘ only fears leB my wounds prove mortal. Of 
 “ all the wretched I am the moB forlorn and 
 ‘‘ wretched ! ” — With great exprelfion Bie 
 
 relates , how much flie had been raifed abc3ve 
 the reB of her fex , and how low Are had fallen ! 
 that there was no woman of birth or fortune, 
 that would have compared fituation with herj 
 and that in profperity and in adverfjty her 
 life had known no meafure. ‘‘ My happinefs 
 
ABEILLA RD AND HELOISA. 
 
 29 
 
 Was unbounded , fhe fays , fo is my forrow. 
 “ Hanging over my pitiable Rate, I flied the more 
 “ tears, when I view the magnitude of my lofl’es; 
 “ but they redouble , when recolledion tells me , 
 “ how dear that poffeffion was , which I have loft. 
 “ To the greatefl joys have fucceeded the sreateft 
 “ forrows. ” 
 
 Again file arraigns the ways of providence, and 
 boldly enters on the difcuflion of a fubjeH, into 
 which the decency of modern lanjToao-e will not 
 permit me to follow her. Iherc is flrength in her 
 reafoning, but the fentiments are indelicate : paf- 
 fion may be pleaded as fome excufe, and the 
 manners of the age will come in to aflifl; her 
 juflification. Modern delicacy, which fometimes 
 borders on affeHation, is no proof of innocence of 
 characlen 
 
 Having lowered yourfelf, fbe continues , to 
 “ raife me, and thus given dignity to myfelf and 
 “ all my family , what more could be expelled ? 
 “ All guilt was cancelled before God and man. 
 But why was Heloifa born to be the occafion 
 of fo black a perfidy — ! ” She then proceeds to 
 Ihow, from hiflorical examples, how baneful has 
 ever been the influence of women on the greatefl 
 men ; Rill drawing fome confolation from the 
 refledlion, that, like the women flie had mentioned, 
 no intentional guilt could be imputed to her : but 
 was Rie Rare, Rie fays, that her many antecedent 
 
 o OK 
 
 V. 
 
3o 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK fills had not juftly provoked the wrath of heaven'* 
 V. “ God then grant me power , file exclaims , to do 
 ample penance! May my forrow , lengthened 
 “ out to many days, bear fome proportion to 
 ‘‘ what you have fuflered ! It is but jufi, and to 
 It I confign my life. Thus to Abeillard, at leaf!, 
 ‘‘ I fiiall make fome atonement , if I make none to 
 “ heaven. ” 
 
 Thefe were the words, which opened to her 
 view a fcene , that in candor , truth , and fimpli- 
 city file lays before her friend. I will now 
 “ difclofe to you, fine fays, all tlie fecret foibles of 
 “ my heart. Tell me then, can I hope to appeafe 
 “ the divine anger, I who, at every moment, am 
 “ charging heaven with cruelty ? My murmurs 
 “ may draw on me greater vengeance : the forrow 
 “ at leaf! , of fuch a penitent , will not avert it. 
 “ But wiry do I talk of penitence ? Whilfi; the mind 
 “ retains all its former attachment to fin , what 
 “ avails the external language of grief? Eafy, 
 “ indeed, it is to declare one’s faults; it is eafy to 
 put on the impoling garb of penitence: but oh 
 “ God! how hard is it to tear the mind from thofe 
 “ afiedions , which were once fo dear ! ” — She 
 confirms thefe awful fentiments by the words of 
 holy Job, and fiie adduces the authority of Gregory 
 and Ambrofe. Then fiie proceeds: “• So fafeinating 
 “ were the pleafures we once indulged ; the 
 “ thought of them cannot give me pain, nor 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 3i 
 
 can T efface their impreffion. Wherever I turn 
 “ my eyes, in all their charms, there are they 
 “ prefent to me. Even in my dreams the dear 
 phantoms hover round me. — During the pomp 
 “ of awful facrifice , when the foul , on the wings 
 “ of prayer, hiould rife more pure to heaven, the 
 fame importunate ideas haunt my wretched foulj 
 “ they occupy every avenue to my heart. When 
 ; “ I Ihould grieve for what is paffed , I .only figh 
 “ that the fame pleafures return no more. Too 
 « faithful has my mind been to its impreffions : it 
 “ holds up before me every circumflance of our 
 “ bff connexion , when all the fcenes of vaniilied 
 “joys play wantonly before me. — Sometimes , I 
 « know , the ftrong workings of my mind betray 
 “ themfelves on my countenance ^ I am heard to 
 pronounce words, which efcape unthinkingly 
 “ from me. Alas! how truly wretched is my con- 
 ‘‘ dition! To me furely may be applied thofe 
 plaintive lines of the apoftle ^ Miferal:)le mortal 
 “ that I am j who will free me from this body of 
 “ death?” - Could I but add with truth! The 
 grace of God through Jefus Chriff our Lord.” 
 Such is this plaintive lamentation of Heloifa, 
 which has often been fo unfairly reprefented. It is 
 not the hiamelefs declaration of an abandoned 
 nun , voluntarily loft in obfcenity, and glorying in 
 the ftate ; but it is the ingenuous confeffion 
 which a penitent, forrowing in her mind, makes 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
BOO 
 
 V. 
 
 32 HISTOHY OF THE LIVES OF 1 
 
 to her hufband, her friend, and her guide. , 
 Surprifed we may be, that time, retirement, 
 application j bufinefs , religion, had not erafed the 
 imprefhons from her foul; but this does but prove ^ 
 how ardent her imagination, and how retentive 
 her recolledion was. There are minds of an ex- 
 traordinary organization ; and fucli was that of 
 Heloifa: the very circumftances which, in others, 
 would have banilhed thought, falling in her way, 
 only fixed it more. To fay fhe Was profligate , is 
 to fpeak a falfllood ; to call her impudent in the 
 Confeffion of her Weaknefl’es, is not to know the I 
 circumftances in which file Was ; and not to pity 
 her , is to poffefs a heart of ftone. 
 
 Heloifa then goes on to declare her unworthinefs . 
 
 They , who cannot look into my foul , think me 
 « virtuous ; they think me chafte , becaufe my 
 
 actions are foj when furely this amiable virtue 
 “ only dwells within the mind. Men may praife 
 “ me, but before God I am wOrthlefs ; he is the 
 “ fearcher of hearts , and his eye penetrates into 
 “ the inmoft thoughts.” — She mentions the hypo- 
 critical morality of the age , Which is fatisfied with 
 the outward fltow of virtue. Some praife , flic 
 owns, IS due to fuch adlionsj but that we aie 
 obliged not only to abftain from evil , but likewife ; 
 to do good: neither of therii^ however, llie declares, i 
 have any claim to a reward, unlefs they be done| 
 from a motive of pleafing God. 
 
 But 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 
 
 33 
 
 But if fo, file adds, what rauH her pretenfio'ns 
 be to any reward hereafter? “ Tlirougli the 
 “ whole coiii’fe of my life, God laiows, what have 
 been my dlfpofitions. It was yon , Abeiilard , 
 “ and not him, whom I feared moft to offend; 
 “ you , and not him , I was moft anxious to pleafe, 
 “ My mind is ftill unaltered. It \vi\s rio love of 
 him , but your command which drew' me to the 
 " cloifter. How miferable then my condition if, 
 “ underp-oin? fo much, I have no profpecf of a 
 reward hereafter ! By external Ihow , you have 
 been deceived like others: you afcribed to the 
 imprellions of religion , what fprang from another 
 “ fource ; and therefore recommending yourfelf to 
 “ my prayers, you alh that fuccour from me, 
 “ which I look for from you. ” 
 
 She begs, he will not place that confidence iii 
 her, which may caufe' her to lofe the afiiftance, 
 file wants fo mucin If he thinks her in ijood health, 
 he will apply no medicines; if in affluence, his 
 hand will not be open to relieve her; and if ftrong; 
 file may fall, alas! before he can run in to fiipport 
 her. Urideferved praife , file obferves, has been 
 the ruin of many. 
 
 Let me then entreat you, fiie adds, if you be 
 “ an enemy to flattery, and a friend to truth, to 
 « ceafe from praifing me. If you think , I poffefs 
 “ any thing commendable, do not you, at leaft, 
 raife the wind of vanity, which may diftipate i^ 
 
 VoL. ll D 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
34 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “ at a blaft. Woald he be thought an able phy- 
 V. “ fician , who , from external fymptoms fhould 
 ‘‘ pretend to determine on the nature of an inter- 
 “ nal complaint ? Things which are common to 
 “ the faint and the finner have no merit in the 
 fight of God. Such are all outward practices , to 
 which the hypocrite more feduloully adheres, 
 than the greateft faint.” 
 
 She continues the fame beautiful chain of reflec- 
 tions : The heart of man is depraved ; it is 
 
 infcrutable to human fight ; who yet has fath- 
 “ omed it ? And there are ways which feem to us 
 ‘‘ ftraight , the ends of which lead to death. 
 “ Where God has referved judgment to himfelf , 
 “ it is rafli in man to pronounce. Praife no one 
 “ while he lives. Give not commendation at a 
 “ time , when the very aT of doing it may make 
 “ him undeferving of it. To me your praifes 
 bring the greateft delight j but therefore are they 
 “ more dangerous.” — The moft chriftian moralift 
 never expreffed finer fentiments. 
 
 Thus file concludes: ‘‘Tell me not, in your 
 “ exhortations to a religious life., “ that virtue is 
 “ perfeded in temptation , and that he only fliall 
 “ be crowned , who has ftoutly contended. ” I 
 “ look for no laurels , no crown of victory , It is 
 “ enough for me to keep out of the way of danger 
 I like not the perils of war. If God will but 
 ‘‘ give me the loweft place in heaven , I lliall be 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 35 
 
 ‘‘ fatisfied. No jealoufy is there, where each one r* O O JC 
 “ is pleafed with his own allotment of happinefs.” v. 
 
 More refle(flions on this beautiful epiftle will not 
 be neceffary. The reader mufi; have made many 
 as he came along ; and he muft have admired , 
 have pitied , and have praifed the lovely writer. 
 
 No fubje£l perhaps has ever |been before him, 
 from which the moralift, the philofopher, and the 
 man yof pleafure could draw more edification 
 and improvement. The exceptionable paffages, 
 if any there really be^ will have been judged with 
 the indulgence I requefted. Severer critics may 
 be morofe , and I ffiall not value their cenfures , 
 or envy their morality. — In language this letter 
 is much inferior to the laft: it is lefs fiudied , and 
 confequently lefs clallical and elegant. But the 
 thoughts are more glowing, the expreffion more 
 rapid , and the connexion of argument more 
 precife. As the ideas occurred , fhe wrote them , 
 in the firfl words which offered. Such is the 
 chara61er of paflion ; negle6lful, but nervous, impe- 
 tuous , and full. On examination it will be found 
 that the arrangement of her thoughts is admirable: 
 this , it fliould feem , is contrary to the nature of 
 unpremeditated compofition : but furprife will 
 ceafe , when we refleid;, how repeatedly her mind, 
 had dwelt on the fubje(Sl j it was a fyftem of ideas : 
 the occafion therefore no fooner called for their 
 expreffion, than they fell from her pen , glowing, 
 
 D 2 
 
36 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES Ol 
 
 KOOK metliodical , and natural, as the^' had pre-exifled 
 in the fancy of Helolfa. But innocence fiirely may 
 allay \vitli the mofl fervid imagination , and the 
 humble confefFionof weahneffes can never be con- 
 flrued into an attachment to vice. 
 
 The abbot of St. Hildas was little affedled by 
 this pathetic remonflrance. He had taken hi» 
 refolution , or rather his mind had taken its bent , 
 from which no effort could withdraw it. He faAV, 
 I think, with fome commiferation, the unfortunate 
 Rate in Avhich Heloifa W'as, and he knew the fway 
 he had over her. He refolved therefore to try 
 the power of ferious expoflulation ; he wnuld 
 prove himfelf the experienced phyfician; to whom 
 die had alluded , and as her diflemper wa.s known 
 to him , he Avould apply a remedy. This condudd 
 was confiftent and friendly, and it merits'jtraife. 
 Abeiiiard’s fubjeft of her letter he divides into four 
 
 rtpiy- diflindl heads , which he feparately difculTes. “ I 
 “ will reply to tliem , fays Abeillard , not fo 
 “ much in my own jnftification , as to inftrudl 
 and to advife you. When you fhall be made 
 “ fenfible , that my requefis are founded on 
 “ reafon, you J will be more difpofed to affent 
 “ to them; when you fliall difeover that, in my 
 own concerns I am not reprehenfible, you will 
 ‘‘ liften to me wdieri I undertake to diredf your’s ; 
 and the more blameleT's I ihall appear, the lefs , 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA, 3f 
 
 I think , yon will dare to undervalue my BOOK 
 “ counfels. ” This is authoritative and manly. v. 
 
 H is lirh reply is to the trifling objeTion of her 
 name having been placed before his own. This „ 
 he fays , was done agreeably to her own docu- 
 ments; for is not fhe become , by her religious 
 profeffion, the fpoufe of God, and confequently his 
 miftrefs and fuperior ? — He then fhows , in a long 
 and rather puerile differtation , what thofe virtues 
 principally are , which fhould decorate the myflic 
 Ipoufe. She is typihed in the black virgin of 
 the Canticles , a form to which Heloifa , he obfer- 
 ves , in the fable robes of her order , bears fome 
 refemblance. He defcants on the qualities of 
 negro-flefli , which in fome regards , he fays , ha» 
 
 peculiar attraflions But I pretend not to under-- 
 
 fland the language of myfticifm, which is always 
 intricate , and fometimes feems to glow with 
 indecent allufions. 
 
 To her fecond complaint, that by mentioning 
 the danger to which his life was expofed , he had 
 but added to her forrows , he fays : “ And was 
 “ not this alfo done agreeably to your own 
 earneft requeft ? I have your words in my 
 recolledlion , ( and he cites them ) : w'hy then 
 complain, that I have made you partake of 
 my anxiety , wTen you had forced me to relate 
 it ? Is it, whilfl I hold my life in fufpenfe, 
 
 ‘‘ that you would deem it expedient to be in 
 
 D 3 
 
38 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 O o K “ gladnefs? In joy yon would be my companion, 
 V, “ but not in forrow. It is in adverfity that the 
 real friend is tried. Let me then hear no more 
 “ of thefe expreffions , filence thefe wailings , 
 which, in truth, are not the language of fmcere 
 ‘‘ afle^lion. Or , if this be not agreeable to you , 
 “ permit me, at leafl, furrounded as I am by 
 “ dangers , to be anxious for my foul’s good , and 
 “ to make what provifion , I can , for another 
 world. This forefight , if you really love me , 
 “ Heloifa , you can never cenfure. ” — He tells 
 her , if flie had any confidence in the divine 
 mercies towards him , that rather it would be her 
 willi to fee him freed from prefent miferies , which 
 were become intolerable ; that Ihe muft know , 
 that he would be his benefa 61 or , whofe kind hand 
 fliould clofe his eyes; what then might be my fate, 
 fays he , is uncertain , but I now know what I 
 fuller; that the termination of a£lual mifery would, 
 at all events , be a happinefs ; and that they who 
 truly love , look not to their own advantage , but 
 to the eafe of their friends. ‘‘And though their con- 
 “ verfation, he goes on, give delight, they would 
 “ rather they fliould be abfent, and be happy, than 
 “ be prefent, and be wretched. But even the poor 
 “ comfort of my wretched prefence cannot be 
 “ allowed to you ; as then you have no intereft 
 in me, why wilh me rather to live in pain, than die 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 3g 
 
 “ to be happy ? And could 3'on draw any advantage BOOK 
 “ from the length of my misfortunes, would it be y, 
 
 “ the part of a friend or of sn enemy to defire 
 « their prolongation P The name of enemy does 
 ” not pleafe you , I know ; ceafe , therefore , from 
 “ your unavailing' lamentations. ” 
 
 On the third head he is very fliort. He applauds 
 her difapprobation of praife, which only makes 
 her more deferving of it; he trufts , it is as fincerely 
 in her mind , as it was flrongly marked in her 
 letter: if fo, fays he, you are truly humble, nor 
 will it be dihipated by my commendation ; but he 
 advifes her to be on her guard, left by feeming 
 to decline praife, ftie fliould only court it the more, 
 and make her mouth give the lie to the feelings 
 of her heart. “■ My praife , he obferves , fllall not 
 “ elate you y it fhall animate you in your advances 
 “ to perfe(ftion. The more it is your wifli to pleafe 
 “ me , with the greater ardor you will pradlife 
 “ my inftrudlions. I commeiid not your virtues, 
 that you may glory in them : and obferve that , 
 
 “ as the cenfures of enemies are often too 
 prejudiced, fo are the commendations of our 
 “ friends fometimes too partial to be relied on. ” 
 
 In a more grave and folemn tone he then enters 
 on her fourth charge : It remains, fays Abeillard, 
 
 ‘‘ that I examine more minutely what has long 
 been the fubje 61 of your inceffant complaints ; I 
 ** mean the circumftance, which drew us from 
 
 D 4 
 
40 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 V. 
 
 K the worlds Here you accufe the ways of pro- 
 vidence, when it would be more equitable ta 
 ** extol them. I had thought, indeed, that long 
 ago this bitternefs had been erafed from your 
 
 O 
 
 “ mind. The mxore dangerous it is, at once 
 threatening the ruin of your foul and boay , 
 the more it merits pity, and the more it gives 
 ‘‘ me pain. You declare, Fleloifa, that your only 
 wilh is to pleafe me; quit then thefe banerui 
 thoughts , that you may torment me no longer ^ 
 that you may make me happy. W ith them 
 you cannot pleafe me; nor with them can you 
 think to go along with me to happinefs hercaher. 
 You have profeffed a willingnels to follow me 
 ‘‘ even to the gates of mifery, and will you 
 let me go without you to thofe of endlefs 
 « joy?— Recoiled what you once faid; call to mind 
 the words of your laft letter, that in the manner 
 “ of our converfion, and in the mode of Gods 
 « chaftifemxcnt, heaven had been rather propitious 
 
 to me. ” He then very fully difculles the 
 
 fubjed, and enumerates fome circumflances of 
 their former lives , which could only be known 
 to themfelves , dwelling on his own exceffes , 
 which , he thinks , very juftly draw after them 
 the vengeance of heaven: every where, even 
 in the ads of greateft feverity, he fees the paternal 
 hand of mercy , working their mutual falvation , 
 and drawing good from evil, — T.he whole is 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 41 
 
 interfperfed with many pious and appofite reflec- 
 tions , which mark his refignation to providence, 
 and the liabits of a penitential and religious mind. 
 Indelicacies there are, but they are infeparable 
 from the fubjedl: Heloifa herfelf had firfl; moved 
 them, and I can therefore pardon the good abbot, 
 wlio only continued die difcuflion. 
 
 If fne be fo much difpofed to grieve, he then 
 advifes her to turn her eyes to another objehlj 
 and he recounts the circumftances of our Saviour s 
 palTion : this , lie fays , fliould challenge all her 
 tears. He extols the wonders of his love, and 
 he calls him her only true friend. — Again he 
 turns his view to the divine mercies, which had 
 been fo indulgent to them both , and he concludes 
 with a prayer , which he begs flie will often 
 repeat for herfelf and for liim. 
 
 There was now a paufe in this interefting corre- 
 fpondence. Abeillard had done his duty , and he 
 waited with patience, till an anfwer from the 
 Paraclet^ fliould inform him, that his letter had 
 had its deflred elfe(d, and that Heloifa was returned 
 to a more compoled and more fortunate difpofition 
 of mind. She had received the letter, and was 
 foon fenfible from its perufal, that Abeillard was 
 flill her friend, that his judgment was better 
 formed than lier’s , that his religion was more 
 exemplary, that his virtue was more perfe 61 , and 
 that his general views of things were more- 
 
 O O K 
 V. 
 
42 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 Mr. Pope’s 
 Heloifa. 
 
 comprehenfive , and more adequate to the great 
 defigns of providence. She would not anfwer 
 it immediately ; fhe wouLd permit its documents 
 to operate on her heart; and when the effe£l 
 fliould be more fecure, fhe would once more 
 write to her friend. 
 
 As the elegant poem of Mr. Pope , according to 
 his own declaration , was partly extruded from the 
 foregoing letters, it will not be an unfeafonable 
 digrelhon to bring it before the reader, on the 
 prefent occafion. I know the fancy of a poet is 
 not to be curbed, and he that fliould dare to do 
 it, would infringe his beff prerogative. It is the 
 abufe only of this power which is cenfurable^ 
 Mr. Pope had read thefe famous letters; but I 
 think, he had only read an unfaithful tranflation 
 of them , which was publifhed in French , at. the 
 end of the lafl century. In this tranflation the 
 characters of the two lovers are depi(Sled in the 
 falfefl; colors. The reader, who is now, I hope, 
 better acquainted with them, may perhaps be 
 difpofed to think with me , tliat our inimitable 
 poet might have adhered more finally to hiflorical 
 truth, without any danger of undue reflraint, or 
 without having deprived his compofitidn of a Angle 
 beauty. He tltat has known nothing of the real 
 lives of Abeillard and Heloifa , may have read 
 this poem, and admired it; but he read in the 
 dark , and he admired from the mechanical 
 
 
ABEILLARD AND H ELOISA. 43 
 
 impreffion which beauty makes upon the mind. It 
 is rather a rhaplbdy, replete with elegant didion, 
 and the mofl delightful imagery, than a methodifed 
 cornpofition ; it wants order, an exadi; difcrimi- 
 nation of ideas, and that accurate fitnefs of charac- 
 ter and local obje£ls, which the poet, on other 
 occafions fo eminently poffelfed. I have feen a 
 garden, into which, without much order, the moft 
 beautiful flowers of nature have been thrown, 
 and of which the gardener’s hand was not per- 
 mitted to check the luxuriant growth, and this 
 has fometimes brought to my recoUeblion Mf. 
 Pope’s Heloifa. 
 
 The poem opens at the moment, when Heloifa 
 had read Abeillard’s letter to his friend, which 
 had been put into her hands j 
 
 In thefe deep folltudes, &c. 
 
 But it was not love which firfl rofe in her heart; 
 it was pity for his fufferings, of which flic had 
 perufed the fad flory, and anxiety on account of 
 the danger to which his life was hourly expofed. 
 Thefe fentiments, as circumftances flood, were far 
 more natural than love. 
 
 The flir flie then makes about the dear fatal 
 name^ is unmeaning, and in the true flyle of a 
 boarding-fchool Mifs. The name of Abeillard was 
 familiar to every mouth at the Paraclet, and the 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
44 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK abbefs doubtlefs was free to pronounce it, and to 
 V- write it, when flie pleafed. 
 
 0 write it not my hand! — &c. 
 
 Her defign in writing was to inquire about his 
 fituation , and to eafe her mind of thoughts , 
 which gave her pain. This was laudable and 
 feemly. 
 
 The following palfage , Relentlefs walls ! Sec. is 
 beautifully poetical ; but it ill accords with Heloifa’s 
 own account, or with the hate of mind which 
 the poet had himfelf given her. Are rugged rocks 
 often found within the precindls of a convent; or 
 could thofe of the Paraclet have been worn by 
 holy knees , which till this moment , as Heloifa 
 tells us, had been inhabited only by thieves 
 and howling beafls, and where the name of God 
 had never founded p 
 
 Though cold like you, unmov’d , and filent grown: 
 
 Can hardly be applied to her, whom the poet 
 has deferibed, the flave of love and man. 
 
 1 tremble too, whene’er my own I find: 
 
 It is remarkable that the name of Heloifa is 
 only, I think, once mentioned in Abeillard’s 
 long epiflle ; llie might therefore eafily count 
 the misfortunes which followed fo clofe behind 
 it. — Can it be faid, when fhe entered the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 45 
 
 convent’s folitary gloom, that Jlern religion there 
 quenched the flame, which hill burnt fo furioully ? 
 Or that 
 
 There dy d the beft of paffions, love and fame? 
 
 Is fame a paflion ? 
 
 Yet write, oh write me all , &c. 
 
 Can the reader poffibly know what Ihe wifhcs 
 him to write? Hihory indeed tells us, that flie 
 wiflied to hear of the perils which threatened his 
 life 5 but of this the poet fays nothing. Incelfantly 
 he talks of his hghs, of his tears, of his grief, as 
 if they fympathized with thofe of Heloifa- as if he 
 alfo liad been a forlorn and haplefs lover. AH 
 the tears he fhed were on his own account* 
 
 Heaven firft taught letters, &c. 
 
 are charming lines , and improved from the 
 thought of Heloifa._So are the following- 
 
 Thou know’ll how guiltlefs firft I met thy flame : &c. 
 
 They are highly defcriptive, and drawn from 
 the real circumftances of their fituation. But as 
 to divine truths, we know that few of them fell 
 from his tongue on the ear of Heloifa* Their 
 
 hours were not fpent in learned dalliance In 
 
 the two laft lines of this paragraph is made a 
 tranfition from the paft to the prefent time , for 
 
 O O K 
 
 V. 
 
BOO 
 
 V. 
 
 46 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 the fake , it feems , of introducing a fentiment , at 
 once incongruous in the gradation of paflion , and 
 sxtravagant in itfelf 
 
 How oft, when prefs’d to marriage, 8cc, 
 
 Heloifa was , but once , preffed to marriage , and 
 then , though reluctantly , Ihe confented. The knot 
 was foon after tied. Yet it muft appear to the 
 unlearned reader, from this paffage, which contains 
 the delightful defcription of difmterefted love, 
 and from others, that the lovers were never joined 
 in wedlock: 
 
 No , make me miftrefs to the man I love ! 
 
 And how can fuch a prepofterous wifli be put 
 into the mouth of Heloifa? She had then been 
 the wife of Abeillard for many long years; and 
 had ihe not been lo ; furely , all circumftances 
 confidered , it was a wild willi. — Much of this 
 paffage is taken from the original letter; but, as 
 ufual, the abbefs of the Paraclet is made to utter 
 the thoughtlefs fentiments of the romantic Heloifa , 
 in lier eighteenth year. 
 
 Canft thou forget that fad , that folemn Day , 
 
 When vidims at yon altar’s foot we lay ? &c. 
 
 On that fad day the altar of the Paraclet did 
 not exift; nor were Abeillard and Heloifa either 
 profeffed on the fame day , or at the fame place 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 47 
 
 one was at Argenteuil, the other at St. Denys. 
 But the poet’s -defcription of this awful fcene is 
 truly admirable, and amply compenfates for the 
 errors of time and place; it is likewife not widely 
 remote from the real event, as I defcribed it in 
 fimple profe. Still Mr. Pope will have it , that her 
 eyes were now fixed on Abeillard; and what is 
 more incredible , he even makes her fay that, 
 
 Love only was her call. 
 
 Could it be love that drew her from him to the 
 cloifier ? Obedience , we know, it was , and a 
 heroic fubmifiion to his imperious mandate. 
 
 From the enfuing lines, which are indecent, 
 and no ways warranted by the real language of 
 Heloifa, the poet, with an apparent fhock, turns 
 to more becoming fentiments ; 
 
 Ah no! inflrudl me other joys to prize. 
 
 With other beauties charm my partial eyes ; 
 
 Why with other beauties , when before he had 
 mentioned none? 
 
 Ah! think at leaft thy flock deferves thy care, &c. 
 
 The whole paffage is almofi literally taken from 
 the letters ; which fhows , that the poet knew 
 how to copy accurately, when it pleafed his 
 mufe. 
 
 In thefe lone Walls (their days eternal bouni) 
 
 Thefe mofs grown domes with fpiry turrets crown’d. 
 
 0 0 K 
 V. 
 
48 
 
 HISTOllY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Where awful arches make a noon-day nieht , 
 
 V. And the dim windows fhed a folemn light : &c. 
 
 Struck with this awful pit^ure , we are not 
 aware that it does not harmonize with the profaic 
 . plain roofs , juft mentioned ^ or with Paraclet s 
 white walls. It is the defcription of an antique and 
 venerable abbey ; but the introduftion of this 
 gloomy fcene was neceffary tliat Abeillard’s eyes 
 might diffufe their rays , and difpel the darknefs. 
 
 See how tlie force of others pray’rs I try , 
 
 ( 0 pious fraud of am’rous charity ! ) 
 
 HowwasAbeillardto know that fiie had recourfe 
 to others prayers ? But this line may be under- 
 flood ; its correfponding one can convey no idea 
 to the moft myftic conception. To beg the alfift- 
 ance of others prayers , on which Abeillard , in 
 his letter , had hi much infifted , is the fraud of 
 amorous charity. 
 
 The darkfomc pines , &c. 
 
 Poetry has nothing more beautiful than thefe 
 lines. The moft airy mind cannot read them 
 without fome paufe of refie£lion. Tlie peifonifi- 
 cation of melancholy is awfully ftriking ; and he 
 that has been fad can tell, how often the inward 
 gloom of his foul feemed to fpread over every 
 
 objetft , 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 49 
 
 B O O IJ 
 
 V. 
 
 Ah wretch ! believ’d the fpoufe of God in vain , &c. 
 
 The whole paffage , which follows this line , is 
 very nearly taken from that part of Heloifa’s fe- 
 cond letter , which I flyled her lamentation , and 
 the reflections I there made , I willi may be ap- 
 plied to it. They will ferve, perhaps, to reconcile 
 the delicacy of fome readers to a train of ideas, 
 which , otherwife , muft appear extremely repre- 
 henfible. Mr. Pope , whofe pencil was ever char- 
 ged with colors , has certainly heightened fome 
 expreffions, and added of his own; for example; 
 
 Now turn’d to heav’n , T weep my psft offence; 
 
 Now think of thee , and curft my innocence. 
 
 How impious are thefe lafl words, and how 
 unfairly do they reprefent the forrowing mind of 
 Heloifa! In bitternefs Ihe confeffed her weakneffes, 
 lamenting that hill hie was fubject to them. Shall 
 the poet, when he handles hihoric fubjeds, have 
 no refped for truth of charaefer , and only feek 
 to pleafe by fuch means , as his imagination may 
 fuggefl? 
 
 objed, and to tinge the gayefl feenes. Such were 
 the filver.Xprings and flowery meads of the Para- 
 clet to the forlorn eye of Heloifa. 
 
 How happy is the blamelefs veftals lot? 
 VoL. II. E 
 
ia HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Can thefe lines be read without a wifli of being 
 V. this blamelefs veftal ? I think , I have known nuns, 
 to whom , in truth , each word might have been 
 applied. In their innocence taken from the world ; 
 taught to believe that out of thofe walls all was fin 
 and wickednefs, and that within them religion, 
 with every virtue, only dwelt; imprelTed with 
 the awful idea, that they heard the voice of God 
 calling them to the happy Rate ; could there be 
 minds better prepared for the ingrefs of that 
 charming enthufiafm, which the poet has defcribed? 
 
 Grace fhines around her with fereneft beams, 
 
 And whifp’ring angels prompt her golden dreams. 
 
 For her th’ unfading tofe of Eden b’ooms , 
 
 And wings of feraphs fhed divine perfumes ; 
 
 For her the fpoufe prepares the bridal ring , 
 
 For her white virgins Hymeneals firg ; 
 
 To founds of heav’nly harps file dies away , 
 
 And melts in vifions of eternal day. 
 
 Such was not the flate of Heloifa. The tumult 
 of her mind, Mr. Pope then flrongly contrails 
 with the ferenity of his blamelefs veftal : 
 
 Far other dreams, &c. 
 
 He availed himfelf of a fingle line in the original, 
 and out of it drew a defcriptive fcene, too glowing 
 in its coloring , and too lufcious in its imagery. 
 Idow unguarded , in general , is the poet’s pen , 
 
\BE1LLARD AND HELOISA. 51 
 
 even when he pretends to admire virtue , and to 
 be in love with innocence ! 
 
 For thse the fates, feverely kind, &c. 
 
 The tranfition is beautiful, from the troubled 
 bread of Heloifa, to the long dead calm of Abeillard’s 
 mind. It is copied from tlie letters, the laft lines 
 excepted, which are in the happieft ftyle of our 
 poet : 
 
 Still as the fea, ere winds were taught to blow. 
 
 Or moving fpirit bade the waters flow; &c. 
 
 The following paffage is alfo fufficiently juflified 
 by the original. 
 
 What feenes appear, where’er I turn my view? 
 With this difference, however, that there it is 
 fimply narrative, and here poefy has profufely 
 fpread her mod bewitching graces; there Heloifa 
 bemoans th captive date of her foul , and here 
 die recounts it with feeming complacency. So 
 oppofite is art to nature ! 
 
 But with this departure from truth, (which, 
 with the impreffion of his lines on my mind, I 
 could not but have forgiven,) Mr. Pope was not 
 fatished : he proceeds m a defeription , which is all 
 fiditious ; and from an opening , gentle as the fird 
 dawnings of grace, rifes to a climax of paflion 
 ivhich terminates in raging phrenzy ; 
 
 Snatch me, juft mounting, from the bkft abode, 
 
 Affift the fiends, and tear me from my Godl 
 
 E % 
 
 OOK 
 
 V. 
 
5a 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 s O O K She fays to Abeillard. With reafon has this 
 V. paffage been often cenfured as extremely repre- 
 henlible. And would his Heloifa have been lefs 
 amiable , had flie been lefs extravagant ? In truth , 
 I know not, how Ihe could fo foon have loft 
 fight of the cold and lifelefs Abeillard, flie had juft 
 defcribed; and the reflection fliould rather have 
 checked this rant of paflion. But as in tragic 
 compofition , every aifedion of the mind muft be 
 carried to its crifis, and there burft, fo would not 
 Mr. Pope quit his Heloifa, till he had extinguiflied 
 in her every ray of that tranfcendent reafon, which 
 flie fo eminently poffelfed. 
 
 Happily, however, fhocked at her own extra- 
 vagance, flie inftantly exclaims^ 
 
 No , fly me , fly me , far as pole from pole ; 
 
 Rife Alps between us ! and whole oceans roll ! 
 
 But the annexed ideas prove , that her under- 
 flanding was ftill bewildered. Ah^ come not: 
 
 Abeillard was not difpofed to come Write not: 
 
 this was the very thing, flic had fo earneftly 
 requefted. — Think not once oj me: it was a ground- 
 lefs folicitude : 
 
 Nor fhare one pang of all I felt for thee. 
 
 Thy oaths I quit: flie was not free to break the 
 matrimonial bond. 
 
 Forget, renounce me, hate whate’er was mine. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 53 
 
 The reader, who Imo-^vs what Abeillard's real B 
 difpofitions had long been, and how much Heloifa 
 complains of his ungrateful ufage , will hardly 
 relifli the poet’s oppofition to the truth of hiflory. 
 
 At laft opens, in charming meafure, the triumph 
 of grace 
 
 Oh grace ferene ! &c. 
 
 V 
 
 I am delighted with this return of reafon , and 
 to find again die Heloifa, repentant and guiltlefs ? 
 whom thefe pages have exhiliited. I knevv her not 
 in the meretricious drefs of the poet; yet awkward 
 is her following attitude ; 
 
 See in her cell fad Heloifa fpread: 
 
 And it may be made a quehion , whether , 
 as flic is defcribed , llie could alfo , at thetime, be 
 propt on Jome tomb ^ — Mr. Pope likewife might 
 have known that tombs are never raifed in the 
 cells of nuns : but it is clear , though he calls it a 
 cell , that he has placed her in the cloifters , or rather 
 in one of the ailes of the church. 
 
 Here, as T watch’d the dying lamps around. 
 
 From yonder Ihrine i heard a hollow found: 
 
 “ Come, Siller , come ! ” &c. 
 
 It is the invitation , which a Hinted maid gives 
 to the fad Heloifa; flie calls her to eternal fleep 
 well therefore may Ihe fay that all here is calm; 
 
 That grief forgets to groan, and love to weep. 
 
 E 3 
 
 0 O K 
 
 V. 
 
54 HISTORY OF IHL LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Though to f.eep for ever be no enticing thought, 
 V, yet is Heloifa ready to obey the call; 
 
 I come, I come! &e. 
 
 Still , turning to Abeillard , flie begs he will pay 
 the laft fad office, and catch her Jiy in g foul; or 
 rather, (which would be more in charadler, as he 
 was a prieft and an abbot ,) that in facred vejlments 
 he would Rand by her fide , and 
 
 Teach me at once , and learn of me to die. 
 
 But as ffie fpeaks to Abeillard of her own death 
 only, where is the propriety of the exclamation. 
 
 Oh death, all- eloquent I you only prove, 
 
 What dull we doat on , when ’tis man we love ? 
 
 This ffie might have faid - hanging over the corfe 
 of her hufband. 
 
 Then too, when fate ffiall thy fair frame deftroy , &c. 
 
 One grave did unite them , as the fequel of this 
 hiftory will ffiow — The conclufion of this admired 
 poem proceeds in the fame line of beauty : it is 
 exquifitely affedling; and though we know, that 
 Mr. Pope was never joined by fate in a funilitude 
 
 griefs to Heloifa; though he never loved yo long, 
 fo well as ffie , yet he was the bard to tell her fad 
 and tender Rory; 
 
 The well-fung woes will footh my penfive ghoft. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 55 
 
 I have ventured this Ihort critique on Mr. Pope’s 
 Heloifa. Blemiflies it certainly has, as a compofition, 
 only that they are loft to moft eyes, in the 
 dazzling glare of its beauties. But its moral 
 imperfections are of a more ferious nature. Never, 
 I believe, was there a more dangerous production. 
 It prefents poifon to the hand of inexperienced 
 youth , and the cup which holds it is all of 
 burnihied gold. It would have been well, I 
 believe, for tlie common interefls of virtue and 
 innocence, had this feduCtive poem never feen 
 the light. 
 
 The ferious contents of Abeillard’s lafl letter, 
 though they had not wholly reformed the mind of 
 Heloifa, which was not pofTible , yet had tliey 
 greatly contributed to abate its too fervid tone. 
 She felt herfelf more tranquil , and more refigned 
 to heaven : this ^vas the moment to anfwer his 
 letter. 
 
 “ That you may not have it in your power to 
 « charge me witli difobedience , fays fhe , as you 
 ® ordered me to check the language of immoderate 
 “ grief, I have done it: when I write to you, 
 “ my exprefiions fliall be more temperate, but, 
 on other occafions, I cannot promife to refrain 
 “ my tongue. Nothing is lefs in a man’s power 
 ** than liis own mind : to obey it he is often forced, 
 and feldom can he command its operations. 
 ** The fuddeii impulfe of flrong affeClions cannot 
 
 E ^ 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 HeloiTa’* 
 tbiid Icttsi’; 
 
56 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “he at once reprefTed; their effecls are vifibly mar- 
 V. “ ked on the countenance, and they announce them- 
 “ felves in v/ords , which are their readieft vehicle. 
 “ From the abundance of the heart tiie mouth 
 “ fpeaketh. But even when my tongue lhall be 
 “ ungovernable, I will keep my hand in fub- 
 “ jedlicn : it would be well, if the mind which 
 grieves were as fubfervient to my voice. — To 
 “ rehore my mind to ferenity, is not, I fear, in 
 “ your power ; but you can moderate its forrow. 
 “ One thought is baniflied by another. The chain 
 “ of gloomy meditation is broken , when new 
 “ objeds arife to engage the attention ; and the 
 “ more honorable, or expedient, or interefting 
 “ thefe may appear, the more intenfe will be their 
 “ impreffion, and the more will the mind turn 
 “ alide from trouble. ” 
 
 With this view , fhe propofes to Abeillard two 
 fubjeds , on which flie would wifii him to enter. 
 The firft was the origin of the rnonaflic inftitute , 
 as it related to nuns; and the fecond, the or- 
 daining of a rule folely adapted to women, which 
 lliould be received at the Paraclct. This, Ihe ob- 
 ferves, hadnot hitherto been done; in conrcquence 
 of which,, all that engaged in the monadic life, 
 men or women, were obliged to pradife the fame 
 rule; which, through tlie whole Latin diurch, 
 was that of St. Bennet. She then examines this 
 famous rule, and Blows, in how many inflances. 
 Its pradices and forms are incompatible wntli 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA.^ 5; 
 
 tlie habits and difpofitions of women ; for whom 
 therefore, ihe determines, it could not have been 
 primarily intended. “ But then, cries Ihe , how 
 “ ridiculous , and even prefumptuous , to bind 
 “ oiirfelves , by a folemn engagement, to an in- 
 “ hitiite , which we can neither underftand nor 
 pradlife. Prudence is the mother of all virtues , 
 “ and by reafon muff our condu^f be ever regu- 
 “ lated ; thefe are die only bafis of whatever may’ 
 be termed laudable or religious. Before a bur- 
 “ den be laid on , the flrength of the ihoulders 
 “ muft he tried , which are to fupport it. ” 
 
 Even St. Bennet himfelf , ihe notices , had 
 wifely modelled his rule, agreeably to the circum- 
 ftances of the times , and the difpofitions of his 
 fubjedl : what then would he not have done, 
 had he been employed to give laws to the 
 weaker fex ? For this fex , ffie thinks, it would 
 be enough, not to aim, in their religious inflitutes , 
 at a higlier perfe(flion , than what is pradlifed by 
 the mmiflers of the church; even it would be well 
 could they emulate the virtues of the pious laity. 
 Would to God , file goes on, we were only 
 able, by our befl exertions, to fulfil the gofpey 
 precepts , and not to furpafs them ; that we 
 “ did not afpire to be more than chriftians ! ” — 
 From die greater fobriety of women, which 
 arifes , Heloifa remarks, from the nature o^ their 
 conftitutions , llie draws an argument to prove, 
 
 O O K 
 V. 
 
'4 
 
 5i HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 o o K that they fliould be under no reftridlion in the ufe ol' 
 V. what they may cliufe to eat or drink. The world, fhe 
 lays , is vifibly grown old , and its inliabitants pofTefs 
 no longer that firengtli of texture, which belonged to 
 their progenitors: rules, therefore, which were 
 enabled for the good of men, fbould vary as he 
 varies : owing to this obfervation , ilie fays , it was , 
 that St. Bennet indulged his monks with the ufe of 
 wine. — “ At ail events , continues flie , why be fo* 
 “ licitous about things , which are fo indifferent in 
 themfelves ; which the finiier and the faint may 
 “ equally pradife. Let fin be prohibited j but let us 
 “ have every other indulgence poffible. ” She pro- 
 ceeds to difcufs the nature of external obfervances , 
 which file treats as things of no rvalue. Virtue alone , 
 fhefays, lias merit before heaven ; the true chriftian 
 is foleiey occupied in perfeding his moral charadferf 
 it is from the will that evil flows, and not from what 
 IS external to it. 
 
 Siie concludes : “ But it is now , Sir , your duty 
 “ to make fuch regulations for us , as may be bin- 
 “ ding on the Paraclet for ever. You , under God , 
 “ are the founder of this houfe. W^lien you are gone, 
 we may have a teacher , who may be difpofed to 
 build on another foundation. For us , we fear , 
 he may be lefs felicitous , or we may be lefs atten- 
 “ tive to him : Ihould he be willing to ferve us , as 
 “ you are, he may not be equally capable. Do you 
 fpeak to us , and we will liffen. Farewcl. ” 
 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 5g 
 
 The found judgment and enlarged views of 
 Heloifa are eminently confpicuous throughout this 
 letter. Her’s are not the ideas of a woman , nar- 
 rowed by a cloiftered education. She had ftudied, 
 with much attention, the charailer of her fex; 
 the delign and nature of the monaftic inftitute flie 
 liad freely viewed; the real precepts and duties of 
 chnfliaiiity llie had cautioully difcriminated from 
 human inventions, and from thofe external works, 
 on which too many rely ; and fhe had convinced 
 herfelf that it was prepofterous to aim at the high 
 flights of romantic piety , while thofe virtues are 
 over-looked as infufficient , on which alone the 
 true fpirit of the gofpel refls. She propofed that 
 her nuns fhould afpire to perfedion, by the prac- 
 tice only of the domeftic virtues ; that they fliould 
 ftxive to be happy in the fociety of one another ; 
 that their tempers lliould not be foured by corpo- 
 ral macerations, or the infliclion of humiliating 
 chaftifements ; and that enjoying the comforts of 
 a found mind , with a conftitution invigorated by 
 proper nourilhment , they fhould be able to 
 improve their underftandings by fludy , to fing the 
 praifes of their maker with alacrity and perfe- 
 verance, and to edify their neighbours by a dif- 
 play of virtues , w'hich it is equally the duty of 
 every chriflian citizen to pradlife. 
 
 Abeillard undertook to make a very full reply 
 to the two principal queftions propofed by 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 Abeilhml’t 
 an Twer. 
 
6o 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book He was plealed to find that her mind 
 
 y. began to turn from the thoughts , which had 
 oppreffed it, and that it would be bent on inqui- 
 ries , from which improvement and inftrudion 
 might be drawn, and on which alfo he himfelf 
 would have an opportunity of exercifing his 
 
 authority, and of difplaying his erudition. He 
 
 firll treats of the origin ol the female monaftic 
 ii flitute, which he deduces from the earliefi: times ; 
 it began, he fays, with Chrifl, and his immediate 
 fucceffors. He purfues tlie fubjecl into its various 
 branches, adducing authorities from Pagan, Jewifii, 
 and Chriftian fources, to prove that women, with 
 their virtues , were ever the firfi: favorites of 
 heaven, and that by men they were, at all times, 
 held in tlie highefl eflimation. — It is a loofe and 
 uninterefiing differtation , into which , without 
 order, he feems to have thrown whatever he could 
 collect on the fubjeth. The ladies of tlie Paraclet 
 might be pleafed with the flattering encomium on 
 their fex: in every other view, it has little merit 
 On the fecond part he is even more diflufe : he 
 enumerates the three leading virtues, which belong 
 to the cloifler, continence, poverty, and filence, 
 and he dwells on each of them. He then fpecifies the 
 conflitutions, wliich Heloifa had requefled, v^hich 
 are to regulate the internal and external economy 
 of the Paraclet , in the diftribution of their 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 6i 
 
 hours , in the form and quality of their drefs, and 
 in the nature and quantity of their food. There is 
 much good fenfe in all thefe arrangements , and had 
 they been delivered in a more fimple and didaftic 
 ftyle, they would even now be read with pleafure. 
 He fliows that mdultrencc to the weakneffes of human 
 
 O 
 
 nature, on which tlie|abbefs had fo hrongly infifted, 
 and the perfeclion he requires is rather to be 
 drawn from an univerfal moderation and abfle- 
 mioufnefs, than from any particular praTices of 
 falling and penitence : on this head , they are to 
 obferve the eftabliflied laws of the church — I am 
 not fuflhciently acquainted with the rules of the 
 diherent monaftic orders of women , to fay how 
 far thefe conflitutions of Abeillard may depart 
 from the ufual form : I believe, however, there is 
 little that is new in them, unlefs they be compared 
 with thofe more rigid inftitutes, which, fome years 
 after, the feraphic zeal of other founders intro- 
 duced into the church. 
 
 And here, as far as hiftory informs us, clofes 
 the epiftolary correfpondence betwixt Abeillard 
 and Heloifa. The good abbot had reafon to be 
 fatisfied with the refult of his endeavours- and 
 Heloifa , we may not doubt , from this time , 
 became a happier woman. To reduce into prac- 
 tice the documents, jhe had received, and to adapt 
 them to the genius and difpofitions of the houfe, over 
 which fhe prefided, would now be her principal care. 
 
 0 O K 
 
 V. 
 
62 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK 
 
 V. 
 
 Other works 
 of Abeillatd. 
 
 The occupation , as flie had herfelf obfcrved , 
 would engage her attention, and the anxious 
 troubles of her mind, indulged no longer, Avoiild 
 give way to better thoughts. — How the reform 
 at St Gildas went on, we are not told, nor do we 
 read any more of the perfecutions and complaints 
 of their abbot A great part of his time muft 
 have been given to writing, which was chiefly 
 dedicated to the nuns of the Paraclet I will 
 fpeak of thefe works. 
 
 The firfl of them feems to have been an addrefs 
 to the Paraclet ’, in which he exhorts the nuns to 
 the fhidy of the holy fcriptures. He fpeaks much 
 of the learning, of the condu^l, and of the example 
 of St Jerom, who had deemed it no unworthy 
 office to attend to the education of women. The 
 old man had Iketched out tlie firfl; elementary 
 lines for his favorite Paula , and he promifes to 
 become her mafter and her play-fellow , if necef- 
 fary ; that he will carry her on his ffioulders , 
 that he will help her to form her firft words , and 
 that he lhall take more glory in it, than did 
 Ariftotle in the tutorage of Alexander. Abeillard 
 could not be affiamed to tread in the Reps of this 
 great man. — He flrongly recommends the Rudy 
 of the Greek and Hebrew languages , as effentialiy 
 neceffary to the due underRanding of the facred 
 writers , and he talks much of the great 
 
 * Op. Abeil. p. I. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 63 
 
 imperfedion of all tranflations. “ You , fays he BOO K 
 “ to the nuns , are inexcnfable , if you negled to v, 
 
 « acquire this important learning: you liave no 
 “ long journeys to make in queft of it, no expenfes 
 “ to incur. In Heloifa you have a miftrefs, who 
 “ can fuffice for all: virtue fhe will teach you by 
 “ example , and literature by precept. Verfed in 
 
 Latin, and not unflalled in the Hebrew and 
 “ Greek languages, Ihe alone, at this time, feems 
 “ to poffefs that knowledge, which in the bleffed 
 « Jerom was fo much extolled.”— ^ Happy , he fays 
 is that perfon, who , turning over the divine 
 volumes, can draw their fenfe from the pureft 
 fource, and who is not neceffitated to recur to 
 muddy flreams, v/hich are fo ill qualified to allay 
 his thirft. But he laments that , with the fludy of 
 the ancient languages , all knowledge of them had 
 long been loh, excepting what, to the fliame of the 
 other fex , hill remained with the abbefs of the 
 Paraclet. — He concludes this not inelegant addrefs, 
 by again prelTmg them to the mofl ferious ftudiesj 
 that this tliey can do with more eafe than the 
 monks , becaufe they are lefs engaged in manual 
 labor j and he advifes them to beware , lefl the 
 enemy, in their indolence, or in the weaknefs of 
 their fex , lay fnares for their virtue. 
 
 The nuns, as we lhall fee, v/cre animated by 
 this addrefs: they took the advice of their mafler; 
 
 Heloifa Biowed fhe way; and they entered on 
 
64 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK the new career which was opened to them. They 
 V, ' fludied the learned languages , and they read the 
 fcriptures. Enviable would be the conventual 
 life , were it always fo employed ! But they found 
 many difficulties, whicli grew on them as they 
 advanced; (for it is only to the fuperficial and 
 vain inquirer that tlie fenfe . of the infpired word 
 is always plain and intelligible , ) and thefe dif- 
 ficulties they laid before their abbefs. Some flie 
 could remove; but others, as became her, ffie 
 acknowledged , lay not within the limits of her 
 humble comprehenfion. As thefe impediments 
 multiplied, they were diflurbed, and they purfued 
 their labors with lefs alacrity. Hcloila then advifed 
 them to note down , every day , fuch difficulties as 
 in their reading Ihould occur , and when they rofe 
 to any bulk, llie promifed to fend them to Abeillard 
 for his folution. Thus was formed that colledion 
 of Problems, which is in the works of Abeillard". 
 
 They are preceded by a preface written by 
 Heloifa, wherein ffie ftates the circumftanees , I 
 have mentioned, and are forty-two in number: 
 to each problem is immediately fubjoined 
 Abeillard’s folution. — The queftions are propofed 
 in a very fuccin6l and accurate manner, and 
 fome of them are fuch, as have ever given trouble 
 to the moft fugacious commentators. The replies 
 are often diffufe and defultory, and feldom feem 
 
 ** Op. Abeil. p. 384’ 
 
 to 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 65 
 
 to reach the difficulty: he indulges his tafte in 
 forced and figurative interpretations, and when the 
 problem prefl'es hard has recourfe to myflery. His 
 anfwer to the lafl difficulty is a cafuiftical difcuf- 
 fion of matters , the like to which, probably, was 
 never laid before a convent of nuns. It is wantonly 
 affirmed, as the queftion related to no fuch fubjedl: 
 vanity or pruriency of imagination therefore muft 
 have fuggefled the unfeemly digreffion. 
 
 The next work I find, is a body of Sermons ^ 
 on the principal fefiivals of the year, moflly 
 written for the ufe of the Paraclet”. Holoifa had 
 begged them from him, and for that reafon, he 
 fays, he had compofed them. “ I am not ufed, 
 he obferves to her, to this ftyle of compofition: 
 “ I aim at no eloquence , but in plain language 
 “ to exprefs my thoughts. And , perhaps , the 
 “ more liomely this expreffion be , the better it is 
 “ adapted to common underftandings : to them 
 my fimple language may have the recommend- 
 “ ation of elegance , and what they conceive mofl 
 eafily, they may relilh beft.” — Notwithflanding 
 this humble declaration, I difcover no ‘marks of 
 negligence or want of art in the fermons: they 
 are fome of his beft compofitions , though they 
 contain nothing very new or interefting. Nor 
 was it at all neceftary , he fliould have ftudied any 
 
 ” Op. Abeil. p. 729. 
 
 O O K 
 
 y.. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK peculiar fimplicity of diftion in his addrelfes to 
 V. the Paraclet: the nuns of this houfe , as already- 
 noticed, were fingularly learned. 
 
 As an additional proof that they were fo , it 
 may be obferved , that thefe fermons , defigned 
 for their inflrudlion , were written in Latin , 
 which, though at that time more generally un- 
 derftood than at prefent, had long ceafed to be 
 the vulgar language. The ancient Gaulilh , or 
 French, as we learn from the monuments of the 
 times, was then in common ufe. On the feltivals, 
 to which they belonged , thefe fermons were read 
 publicly in the church of the Paraclet 
 
 His treatife againft Herejies , which were the 
 errors of the age , is not incurious ; as it lliows us , 
 not only what thofe errors were , but likewife 
 points out the dodlrine of the church, as believed 
 in the twelfth century. This is an important link 
 in the great chain of tradition , which we hold in 
 our hands , tracing its eafy progrefs from ourfelves 
 up to thofe times , when the principles of chrifli- 
 
 anity were firlt promulgated Abeillard , in this 
 
 wor^, briefly flates the error, and then combats 
 it by the authorities of revelation. Thefe authori- 
 ties are not always convincing, but they were 
 
 the popular arguments of the day He feems to 
 
 have been extremely well verfed in fcripture- 
 
 22 
 
 Praef. Apolog. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 67 
 
 learning ; which proves that , even in the darkeft 
 ages, thofe facred volumes were not negledled, 
 and that the Reformation, as is pretended, was 
 not a providential arrangement to refcue them 
 from the difgrace and oblivion, in which they had 
 f)een funk. We have feen how ftrongly their 
 Itudy was recommended to the Paraclet, and with 
 what attention they were there read and invefli- 
 gated: or were Abeillari and his nuns the only 
 liiblical ftudents of the age? The contrary is well 
 known. 
 
 Abeillard alfo Avrote an Expojition of the Lord’s 
 prayer, which is familiar, concife, and inftru6live; 
 and another of the Apoftle’s creed, which has 
 equal merit”. It was avhen he aimed at fuperior 
 learning and allegorical comments, that his writings 
 are unfatisfaTory : his genius was naturally clear 
 and penetrating, and left to itfelf, without all 
 doubt, it would have thrown great light on the 
 abftrufefi; inquiries : but when the hemifphere is 
 overcaft , what eye looks for the brightnefs of a 
 meridian fun? 
 
 But the abbot’s very principal work is a Com- 
 mentary on the epiflle to the Romans, in five books”. 
 Contrary to the whimhcal tafle of the age , which 
 ran into playful allegories, the author here attaches 
 himfelf to the literal fenfe, and by an eafy 
 
 Op. p. 59. ” Ibid. p. 491, 
 
 F g 
 
 O O K 
 V. 
 
68 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 B O 0 K 
 V, 
 
 St. Bernard 
 vilits the Pa* 
 laclet* 
 
 paraphrafe, endeavours to point out the chain of 
 reafoning of the apoflle, and the connexion of 
 his difcourfe. This he has executed very ably. 
 He introduces differtations on the moft ' knotty 
 points of theology, fuch as original fin, free will, 
 grace, and predefhnation , and he fliows at leaft 
 that he pofTeffed a metaphyfical aptitude for 
 the difcuffion of fuch matters. , There is much 
 erudition throughout the whole commentary, 
 and an extenfive knowledge of the writings of 
 
 the ancient fathers To the head of the work 
 
 is prefixed a fhort introdudiion , wherein he 
 ti'eats of the fcriptures in general: And as the 
 
 “ defign of the four gofpels , fays he , is to 
 « teach thofe things which every chriftian muff 
 “ know, fo were the epiftles written to inculcate 
 a ftridf attention and obedience to them; 
 “ yet do thefe alfo contain fome wholefome 
 ^ documents and advice , which , though they 
 “ appertain not to the effence of belief, may 
 “ ferve to develope its tenets , and to embellifh 
 “ the chriftian eflablifhment. ’’ 
 
 It was about this time, that Bernard of Clairvaux 
 to whofe acquaintance I have already introduced 
 
 the reader, made a vifit to the Paraclet From 
 
 the time we left him , newly elected abbot , and 
 growing, by his virtues and his talents, into 
 univerfal renown, he had been engaged in the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 69 
 
 mofl arduous concerns of Europe. Drawn reluc- 
 tantly from his cell , he affifted at the council of 
 Troyes , where he received the commifTion to fettle 
 the rule of the military order of Templers , juft 
 eflablilhed — At Eflampes before the king, the great 
 difpute between Innocent and Anacletus, both 
 chofen popes of Rome, was referred to Bernard; 
 he weighed the important matter, and decided 
 in favor of the firft , whofe ele 61 ion , he faid , was 
 canonical. The affembly approved his decifion. 
 He then wrote circular letters to many princes and 
 
 bilhops in favor of Innocent In ii3i he refufed 
 
 the bifhopric of Chalons , and alfo that of Genoa. 
 Three years after he was in Italy , where he 
 affifted at the council of Pifa , and was the foul of 
 every procefs ; his levee was crowded by bifliops , 
 and the whole power of the church feemed veiled 
 in his hands 5 yet was his humility more tran- 
 fcendant than the applaufe which echoed round 
 him. — Returning from Pifa, by the command of 
 his Holinefs, he palTed by Milan. The Milanefe 
 came out to meet him; they threw themfelves at 
 his feet, imploring his benedi 61 ion; they cut 
 flireds from his garments, in atteftation of his fane- 
 tity; and with the loudeft acclamations they intro- 
 duced him into their city. During his flay 
 among them , extraordinary indeed are the mira- 
 cles, he is faid to have worked in their favor. 
 Every diforder g^ve way to the efficacy of hia 
 
 F 3 
 
 o o X 
 V. 
 
70 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 HOOK prayers. The neighbouring towns and villages 
 V. were emptied of their inhabitants, and all Lombardy 
 was in motion to fee this man of wonders. The 
 conflant prefs, which curiofity or devotion tlius 
 thickened round him, was too violent to be bornej 
 he refilled their felicitations in vain , and withdrew 
 from the crowd; but he was foon compelled to 
 fhow himfelf from the windows to the people, 
 and from thence to give them his benedidlion. — 
 In the midft of this overpowering tide of plaudits 
 and admiration , Bernard flood confufed ; he 
 acknowledged his own unworthinefs , and the 
 glory of his miracles he gave to God and to 
 the faith of the people. They offered him 
 the arehiepifcopal mitre of their city, W'hich was 
 vacant ; he refufed it , and retired. — Soon after 
 we find him at Clairvaux, occupied in building 
 a new monaflery, as the old one was found 
 too fmall to contain the great number of monks , 
 who daily crowded to him 
 
 What w'as the. motive of his vifit to the Paraclet, 
 we are not told. Probably he was curious to 
 fee a woman , about whofe endowments fame 
 fpoke fo loudly. VV^e know^, indeed, that he 
 had been long preffed to go'* ; for Heloifa and her 
 nuns could not have beared with indiffernce, that fo 
 great a treafure refided, not many miles from 
 
 Fleury , voh xiv\ “ Op. p. 244* 
 
^ ABEILLAllD AND HELOISA. 71 
 
 their convent. They received him as an angel 
 from heaven. He admired the regularity of their 
 difcipline, and he was charmed with the deportment 
 and learned converfation of the abbefs and her 
 fillers. With an engaging attention he read and 
 approved the rules of their inflitute ; and more 
 than once he publicly preached to them , with 
 that un6lion and impofmg eloquence, which were 
 fo mudi his own. Never was there a facred 
 orator, who, by a foft manner, a pathetic didion, 
 and a gentle flow of glowing ideas , underflood 
 fo well every approach to the heart. But he 
 was not of a temper to approve , where he law 
 caufe for reprehenfion ; and the mofl trifling 
 deviation from the eflabliflied forms of the 
 church was enough to excite his cenfure. He 
 oliferved, that, in the Lord’s prayer, inflead 
 of daily bread , they ufed the word fuperfubjian- 
 tial. The novelty flruck him , and he inquired 
 by what authority it had been introduced ? The 
 abbefs informed him , that Abeillard the founder 
 of their houfe , and their guide in religion, had 
 fo permitted it. — The reader will recoiled that 
 Bernard , long before , had been irritated againft 
 the abbot of St. Gildas : he therefore , on this 
 occafion, treated his name with fome afperity, and 
 he told Heloifa , that the innovation was very 
 cenfurable. 
 
 Not long after, fome very preffing bufmefs 
 
 F4 
 
 O O K 
 V- 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 t 
 
 3B O O K obliged Abeillard to go over to the Paraclet 
 V. He was told with much exultation of the viliter 
 
 they had had; that they had impatiently longed 
 to fee him ; that he was a divine man ; and that 
 when he had fpoken to them on the truths of 
 religion , they had beared , they thought , the 
 voice of an angel'*. Such warm encomiums 
 would not be fo pleafing , probably , to the ears 
 of Abeillard, The abbefs had equally admired 
 the man of God; but fhe was not blind in her 
 admiration, nor could fhe facrifice an old friend 
 to the impofmg charafter of the young abbot of 
 Clairvaux. In converfing therefore with Abeillard 
 fhe, one day, with fome addrefs, told him of 
 the remark, Bernard had made, on their ufe of 
 the word fuperjub/iantial ^ and flie added: “ The 
 “ holy man is much your admirer; he praifed 
 ‘‘ your inflitute, and he applauded the difcipline 
 of our convent: that one thing only he could 
 not approve, and he charged you with in- 
 novation, ’’—Abeillard was little pleafed with 
 the flattery, as he faw it proceeded from tlie 
 conciliating mind of Heloifa; but the cenfure 
 flung him , and he thought he could be revenged. 
 
 Returned into Britany, he had foon prepared 
 a letter for the abbot of Clairv..ux. *'• Having 
 beared at the Paraclet, fays he, that you had 
 
 Z7 
 
 Op. p. 244, 
 
 Jl 
 
 Ibid. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ;3 
 
 “ cenfured me , it was natural I iliould be an- BOOK 
 “ xious to apologize for my eondu6l: it is your Yi 
 “ difpleafure , which I fhould be more forry to 
 “ incur , than that of all the reft of mankind. ” — . 
 
 He then fhows , that the Lord’s prayer is only 
 I to be found in the two gofpels of Matthew and 
 i Luke : that Matthew received his from the mouth, 
 f of his mafter Chrift , and that Luke was only in- 
 ftru6led by St. Paul, who could know nothing, 
 but by report, of the fubftance of our Saviour’s 
 difcourfes ; confequently the prayer of the former, 
 which was in itfelf more full and perfe61 , was to 
 
 I be preferred to that of Luke He lays before 
 
 I him the two prayers, the one compofed of feven, 
 
 ! the other of five, petitions; and he obferves, that 
 it was the fuperior excellence of the one , which 
 had given it the preference in the public fervice 
 of the church. “ How then has it happened, 
 
 “ continues Abeillard , that into the prayer of 
 “ Matthew fliould have been foifled the word daily 
 of Luke, when its own fuperfubjlantial was more 
 “ exprefhve and appofite ? It is no fmall pre- 
 “ fumption , it feems , thus to alter the expreflion 
 “ of an apoflle, as if he did not himfelf fufficiently 
 underhand the import of words. ” — He adduces 
 the authority of the Greek church , which adheres to 
 the reading of Matthew, though Luke wrote his gof- 
 pel in their own language — ‘‘ If I am not egregioufly 
 
 1 
 
H 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 V. 
 
 miilakeii then , fays he , rather accufe me of 
 “ any thing, than of innovation or arrogance in 
 “ this bufinefs ; me , who fcrupuloufly chufe to 
 ,5 follow the language of Chrift and his apoftle, 
 “ and the evident teflimony of the Greek church.” — . 
 But obferve, he goes on , I lay no commands on 
 any one; I even perfuade no one, to follow 
 “ me , and to depart from the vulgar pra£lice^ 
 Let each one red on his own judgment This 
 only is my advice , that he be cautious not to 
 prefer forms to reafon, and practice to venerable 
 “ truth.” 
 
 Having proceeded thus far in his own vindication , 
 which is manly and perfuafive, he fuddenly turns 
 on his adverfary, and attacks him with fpirit: 
 ‘‘ And is it not this fame reafon, fays he, of which 
 “ you yourfelves are fo vehemently enamoured, 
 " as to dare to fupport it againfl the univerfal 
 pradlice of the church ? Yon are but men of 
 yederday; yet glorying in the novelty of your 
 order, you have made decrees, by which the 
 “ divine fervice is to be performed among you , 
 dillerently from the ancient, and all the modern, 
 ufages of monks and churchmen, Nor in this 
 do you deem yourfelves reprehenfible. It may 
 be a fmgularity, or a deviation from antiquity, 
 “ you allow; but it accords with reafon and the 
 “ tenor of your inflitute ; and while this is fo , 
 little do you value the aftonifhraent , or the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ^5 
 
 “ murmurs , of difcontented fpe^lators. ” — He 
 enumerates a long lift of the peculiarities, obferved 
 by the Cifterian monks in their church - fervice, 
 xvhich he treats as abfurdities, or at beft as puerile 
 fmgularities , to which , however , they profefs 
 the warmeft attachment, and in which he is not 
 difpofed to give them the fmalleft difturbance. 
 Variation , he obferves, has ever been allowed in 
 language and in general difcipline ; and he inftances 
 many practices which then prevailed , all which 
 were permitted, provided only the facred integrity 
 of faith were not violated. It is here that unity 
 muft be fixed. This variety, he thinks, in the 
 modes of worlliipping our maker, has its advantages ; 
 and that too fervile an uniformity may fometimes 
 generate difguft. For this, in part, it was that 
 the religion of Chrift was preached in the languages 
 of all nations ; and he himfelf delivered the prayer 
 in queftion, in two diftind forms, that different 
 difpofitions might find their fatisfa^lion in them: 
 but let us repeat it , fays he , in the exa6l words 
 of its auguft founder. He concludes : “ Let each 
 
 “ one, as I faid before, be guided by his own 
 “ judgment, and pray as he likes it beft. I advife 
 « no one to follow me ; he may vary the 
 « words of Chrift at will; but it fhall be my 
 “ endeavour to keep them and their genuine 
 “ fenfe as unchanged as may be*\ 
 
 ** Op. p. ZiQ 
 
 O 0 K 
 V. 
 
76 
 
 HISTORY, See, 
 
 BOOK There is much good fenfe in thefe obfervations ; 
 
 Y, and I have been more particular in recounting the 
 tranfadlion , as it may ferve hereafter tp account 
 more fully for the violent condudt of Bernard 
 towards the unfortunate abbot of St. Gildas. How 
 he received this fpirited addrefs, we know not; 
 but even faints, we have reafon to think, are 
 fometimes fubjefl to the common feelings of 
 human nature. 
 
 END OF THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ABEILLARD and HELOISA. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 William of St. Thierry accufes Abeillard — The ab- 
 bot of Clairvaux engages in the quarrel — . The 
 council of Sens — Sentence againfl Abeillard — He 
 fets out for Rome — Is entertained at Cluni , and 
 confents to remain there — Arnold of Brefcia — 
 Tanchelm of Antwerp — Henry de Bruys. 
 
 Anno, 1139. 
 
 Almost twenty years had now elapfed , fince 
 Abeillard, in the council of Soiffons , had been 
 compelled , unheared , to throw his work on the 
 Trinity into the flames. I related the event in all 
 its circumftances. From that time he had continued 
 to teach , and he had publillied different works. 
 They were received with approbation , and were 
 very generally read. So arbitrary had been judged 
 
 3 » 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
78 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 I O O K 
 VX. 
 
 •William of 
 St. Thierry 
 acGufes 
 Abeillard. 
 
 the behaviour of the fynod towards him , that it 
 had left no ftigma on his reputation ; even the 
 obnoxious work itfelf make its own way , unoppo- 
 fed, and feemed to promife an increafe of fame 
 to its author. 
 
 The holy Bernard had a friend, v/hom he much 
 efteemed , William, abbot of St. Thierry , in the 
 neighbourhood of Reims. Whether William had 
 beared of the fliarp letter , which Abeillard had 
 lately addreffed to the abbot of Clairvaux , or was 
 jealous of the applaufe which followed his wri- 
 tings, or, poring with a malignant eye over his 
 works, he thought he had difcovered errors, which 
 it was his duty to reveal; whatever might be his 
 motive , he determined again to blow the embers , 
 and to revive a controverfy, which the lapfe of 
 years had extinguiflied — There are men , to 
 whom orthodoxy is a word fo impofing , that to 
 fupport it they can adopt meafures, which religion, 
 reafon , and honor muft ever view with difguff. 
 
 ' o 
 
 Geoffrey, bifliop of Chartres, and Bernard of 
 Clairvaux, were the two, whofe zeal if he could 
 roufe , William doubted not , but importance 
 would be given to his undertaking. Geoffrey , it 
 may be remembered , was the learned and bene- 
 volent prelate who, at the council of Soiffons, had 
 Ihowed himfelf fo well affede^ tg> the perfecuted 
 
 * Vie d’Abeil. p. go. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 79 
 
 Abeillard. Why he , on this occafion was fixed 
 on, is uncertain; poffibly the abbot of St. Thierry, 
 who knew how highly his abilities were rated in 
 the trench church , might be ignorant of his 
 perfonal attachments. Be this as it may; he drew 
 up a very acrimonious and pointed letter, which 
 he addreffed to the venerable perfons, jufi: men- 
 tioned. ^ Peter Abeillard , fays he, again begins to 
 “ teach his novelties and to write them: his works 
 “ crofs the feas , nor are the Alps any obflacle to 
 “ their progrefs : his wild opinions deluge the 
 “ provinces; they are publicly taught, and as 
 “ publicly defended ; it is even faid, that they have 
 “ found admirers in the court itfelf of Rome. I 
 “ muft therefore be open with you : your filence 
 ‘‘ is dangerous to yourfelves, and it is dangerous 
 “ to the church of God, — Very lately a work of 
 “ this man fell into my hands : it was entitled 
 “ the Theology of Abeillard. I confefs, the words 
 “ excited^ my curiofity ; I read it ; and as many 
 things therein ftruck me , I noted them down , 
 “ with the reafons why I did fo. Thefe remarks 
 “ I now fend you , and with them the book 
 “ Itfelf, Form your own judgments. It is you 
 “ only whom I can with propriety addrefs on. 
 “ this occafion. He fears you. But if you remain 
 filent, whom will he fear? And, if he fear no one, 
 “ whatfhall ffem the torrent of his tongue? Abeillard 
 was once my friend ; but when the facred depofit 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
8o 
 
 HISTOKY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 J O O K of faith is expofed to danger , the name of 
 VI, friend or parent weighs no longer with me . 
 
 He then enumerates the thirteen propofitions , 
 which he had extracted from the works of Abeil- 
 lard, and which he pronounces to be thirteen 
 herefies. 
 
 The bifhop of Chartres returned no anfwer to 
 this letter; but Bernard replied in a manner which 
 could not be very fatisfa^fory to the meddling 
 accufer. “ I applaud your zeal , faid he : but you 
 “ know, how little, in matters of this delicate 
 ** nature, I rely on my own judgment. It will be 
 proper that we proceed with caution: let us 
 meet, and difcufs the bulinefs together. But 
 even this, on account of the holy time of lent, 
 cannot be done as yet. Excufe , I beg you , 
 ‘‘ this delay , which is the more neceffary , as till 
 “ now I have been a ftranger to almoft every 
 thing you have communicated to me*.” 
 Diffatished with this cold reply, and to urgo 
 the bufinefs more rapidly forward, William com- 
 pofed a more voluminous work on the fubjedl, in 
 which he placed his charges in a ftronger light, 
 marked more emphatically the errors of Abeillard, 
 and feemed to triumph in a hirer conqueft. This 
 likewife he fent to Bernard and the billiop. So 
 earneft indeed was he become in the profecution, 
 
 * Ep. Bern. n. 526. .* Ibid. 
 
 that 
 
ABEILLAKD AND HELOISA. 8i 
 
 that td carry it oh with more expedition , he 
 relu^lantly fufpended a large comment on the 
 canticles of Salomon, in which the pious aff'eftions 
 of his heart were very warmly engaged \ 
 
 Unfortunately for Abeillard , juft at this critical 
 moment, died the biftiop of Chartres. He was 
 his friend ; and as his learning and his virtues 
 were much looked up to , probably he would have 
 had it in his power to check the flagrant zeal of 
 his adverfaries; 
 
 The al)bot of Clairvaux periifed the new 
 treatife, which had been fent him; and though he 
 feems to have been perfuaded that the charges 
 againft Abeillard were well founded , yet, wifhing 
 rather to reclaim than to irritate him, he purpofed 
 to meet him , and amicably to canvafs the matter 
 in a private interview. This was benevolent 
 and insenuous; but it could not be that their 
 meeting ftiould produce any permanent good. 
 The minds of botli had been exulcerated ; nor 
 Were their natural difpofitions rnuch formed to 
 coalefce. They met, however. Abeillard, now 
 in years , fore from ill ufage , and confident in 
 the powers of his learning , would view the young 
 abbot as an officious intruder, who came, not fo 
 much to conciliate , or to feek for information , as 
 to arraign authoritatively his condudf, and tot 
 weigh his opinions in the fcale of prejudice: 
 
 Vie d’Ab-il. p. 8?. 
 
 VoL. IT O 
 
 book 
 
 VI* 
 
 Th6 abbot 6t 
 Clairvaux 
 engages in 
 the g[uartei; 
 
82 
 
 HISTOllY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK and when he recolleded SoifTons , and the judge- 
 VI. ment there palled, though arbitrarily, on his 
 works, he would confider the prefcnt flep as an 
 attempt malevolently aimed at his rep ole. — . 
 Bernard declard the motives which had brought 
 him, and he recapitulated, with fome diffidence, 
 the lift of errors with which he had been charged : 
 thele errors he entreated him to retrad, and then he 
 promifed, that all his influence lliould be ufed to 
 mitigate the feverity of any fentence, which his 
 judges might be difpofed to pronounce. —Abeil- 
 lard, with a haughtinefs, which was not mifplaced, 
 beared the remonftrance, and withdrew in filent 
 contempt. The faint therefore called on fome of 
 his friends, and with them a fecond time waited 
 on the abbot of St. Hildas. It was in vain: they 
 found him equally untra 61 able , and in a peremp- 
 tory tone he told them, that they were free to 
 take their own meafures , and that he fliould take 
 his h 
 
 The author of Bernard’s life relates this tranfac- 
 tion very differently: he fays, that Abeillard was 
 fo aff'eefted by the manner, in which his mailer 
 addrelfed him , that he promifed to corredl his 
 errors , and to conform to his will in all things : 
 but that, no fooner were they parted, than, infti- 
 gated by the bad advice of his friends, and 
 confident of his learning, he receded from his pur*» 
 pofe , and again denounced defiance 
 
 * Ep. Bern. 3 J “• * Fib, iii. c. 5. 
 
ABEILL ARD AND HELOISA. 83 
 
 The abbot of Clairvaux , difappointed by the 
 bad fuccefs of his interview, provoked by the 
 behaviour of Abeillard, and warmed by an impe- 
 tuous zeal, (which in holy men is the more 
 dangerous, becaufe it is believed to be fuggefted 
 by the fpirit of God,) refolved, as moderation 
 had mlfcarried, that violence Btould try its efficacy: 
 he would exert againft the weak man every nerve 
 of that unbounded influence, which the fame of 
 his fandity, his eloquence, and his extenfive 
 connexions in the world, had given him. He 
 wrote to Innocent the pope , and to the Roman 
 prelates, charging Abeillard with every herefy, 
 which hitherto had disfigured the church of God, 
 and with every bad defign, which could animat® 
 the breafl; of the moft profligate mortal. 
 
 To the Cardinal Guido , who had been th® 
 fcholar of Abeillard, and whofe partiality for his 
 old mafter he apprehended might hand in the way 
 of his defigns, he fays: “ I fliould indeed do you 
 “ an injury, were I to imagine that your regard 
 “ for any one could go fo far , as to raife in your 
 breafl; an eflecm for his errors. Such love is 
 “ earthly, it is brutal, and diabolical, equally 
 pernicious to both parties. — Abeillard introduces 
 “ into his writings a profane novelty of ideas and 
 “ of language; he difcourfes on faith to overthrow 
 ‘‘ its myfleries, and the words of the gofpel he 
 “ adopts to impugn its tenets. He, forfooth, 
 
 G 2 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
«4 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 10 0 
 VI. 
 
 fees nothing obfcurely , his eye penetrates the 
 “ darkeft fecrets : it would be well, however, if 
 he knew himfelf. I accufe him not before the 
 “ heavenly father; his own book is his accnfer. 
 “ When he fpeaks of the Trinity, we hear Arius ; 
 “ when of grace , Pelagius ; and when of the 
 perfon of ChrifI; , Neflorius ” 
 
 To another Cardinal he ufes the fame intemperate 
 language j “ Abeillard, he fays, is a monk without a 
 rule , is a fuperior without care, nor has difcipline 
 “ or order the lealf check over him. He is a man 
 “ ever varying from himfelf; interiorly a Herod ^ 
 exteriorly a Baptifl; : he is ambiguous as a riddle, 
 “ poflefhng nothing of a monk, but the name and 
 the habit. But what is this to me ? Each one muft 
 “ anfwer for himfelf. One thing there is , which I 
 “ cannot diffemble; it appertains to all who love 
 ‘‘ the nameofChrift. He proclaims iniquity in the 
 hreets ; he Corrupts the integrity of faith, and the 
 purity of the church. Difputing and writing on 
 “ faith, on the facraments, and on the Lrinity, he 
 ‘‘ overleaps the bounds which our fathers placed: 
 “ as he wills, he changes, he multiplies, and he 
 “ diminifhes. In his works and atfions he proves 
 “ himfelf the fabricator of lies, and the worfliipper 
 “ of falfe do6frines : he is a heretic not in error 
 “ only, but in obflinacy and in the defence of 
 error. He knows aU things in heaven and on 
 
 ^Bern. Ep. 53 s. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 85 
 
 “ eartli , fave only himfelf. Before the legate of 
 ^ the Roman fee , with his work he was con- 
 “ demned at Soilfons. But as if that fentence 
 were not enough , again he expofes himfelf tQ 
 “ cenfure , and the lafl error becomes worfe than 
 the former. Secure , however , he thinks him- 
 “ felf, becaufe he can boaft that Cardinals and 
 Roman prelates have been his fcholars, ; them, 
 “ whom he lliould have feared as his judges , hi? 
 “ da res to call the prote^ors of his paft and 
 ^ prefent errors *. ” 
 
 The fame means of defamation he ufed at home, 
 decrying the principles and perfon of Abeillard, 
 and holding up both to the ridicule and detefta^ 
 tion of the whole French church ^ 
 
 Upon what principles of morality or honor this 
 condud of Bernard can be juftified , I know noh 
 Had Abeillard been guilty of more errors than 
 were laid to his charge, and had his, behaviour, been 
 reprehenfible as he defcribed it : hill is the worft 
 enemy of God or man to be treated with language 
 fo foul , fo infulting , and fo unchriftian ? 
 Abeillard , in truth. , was not guilty of a fingle 
 error , nor was he obfUnate in defending a fingle 
 opinion , and the univerfal tenor of his life was 
 religious, penitential, and exemplary. 
 
 The abbot of St. Gildas could not long bo 
 ignorant of thefe violent proceedings of hia 
 
 * Bern. Ep. 3^6. * Ep, 337. 
 
 G 3 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
86 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 O O K enemy , ( for they were echoed through every 
 VI. province, and from kingdom to kingdom,) and he 
 faw the neceffity of oppofing feme obhacle to their 
 further fpread. Should iie be longer filent , there 
 was an end of his reputation for ever , nor would 
 his perfon be hardly fecure v^ithin tlie walls of 
 his own convent. But what ground could he take 
 that would be tenable againft the commanding 
 powers of the abbot of Clairvaux ? He could call 
 to his alTiflance all the intereft of the earth , and 
 the angels of heaven were obedient to his beck. 
 
 O 
 
 However, innocent, he knew , he was, and he 
 would try once more what thofe arms could do , 
 with which formerly , in the fchools of Paris , he 
 had fought and conquered. He recolleHed that 
 Samfon, the flout Nazarean, though forlorn, and 
 old , and furrounded by his enemies , was not 
 deferted by his native flrength , and that even when 
 he fell he triumphed. 
 
 At Sens, an archiepifcopal city in Champagne, 
 was to be performed the ceremony of the tranfla- 
 tion of a faint’s body into the cathedra] -church. 
 To grace the folemn pageant , all the biiliops of 
 the diocele with their clergy were to affemble; 
 as likewife thofe from tlie neighbouring diftri6f 
 of Reims. The king alfo , it was faid , would honor 
 the meeting with his prefence — Abeiliard judged 
 tliis might be a proper occahon for the public 
 jufliheation of his principles , and that from hence 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 87 
 
 the kingdom might foqn learn, that he was ortliodox 
 in his opinions, and irreproachable in hiscondu 61 ; 
 nor did he defpair of being able to draw down 
 fome confufion on his enemies. He therefore waited 
 on the arclibilhop of Sens ; he laid before him the 
 motives of his journey, and he imploredhis pro- 
 ‘‘ te(Slion. “The abbot of Cdairvaux , faid he, 
 “ declaims againft my writings ; I am ready to 
 “ defend them in public affembly , and I requelf 
 “ that lie be cited to appear before you. I will meet 
 him. ” 1 he archliilhop could but approve of a 
 propofal whicli was ingenuous and equitable , and he 
 allured Abeillard that, as far as it lay in his power, 
 juhiceHiouldbe done him*®. Nor is it improbable, 
 that he might be pleafed with the profpeft of 
 an important controverfy , which would give 
 fome relief to the main ceremony , and in which 
 he., with his, fuhfagan bilhops, fliould fit as judges. 
 
 Agreeably to his defign , he wrote to St. Bernard, 
 acquainting him of Abeiilard’s complaint and chal- 
 lenge, and naming the day on which he lliould 
 expe6l to fee him at Sens. The good abbot refufed 
 to appear, and he grounded his refufal on this 
 reafoning ; tliat he was young and inexperienced 
 in controverfy, and that Abeillard had been a 
 trained I’oldier from his cradle ; that the tenets 
 of faith , which were founded on the infallible 
 word of God , ought not , in his opinion , tc> 
 
 Fleury, vol. xiv. 
 
 G 4 
 
 0 O K 
 VI. 
 
85 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK fubmitted to human inveftigation * that his 
 Yi, own writings were fufficient to condemm him j 
 and that it was the duty of bifliops , and not his 
 concern, to pronounce on matters ofbeiief*'. 
 
 Fixed in the fame fentiments, he addreffed the 
 bifhops who were affembling at Sens. I am 
 challenged , as you have heard , fays he , to a 
 public difputation : the fervant of God fhould 
 V rather bear all patiently, than contend. Were 
 ^ the caufe my own , I might place conhdence 
 perhaps in your protection ; but it is yours ; I 
 therefore entreat and ' admonilli you , to lliow; 
 yourfelves the friends of Chrift in the day of 
 need. — Be not furprifed, that thus fuddenly you 
 “ are called upon : it has been the wily artifice 
 of the enemy , that he might attack you uiir 
 prepared , and thus more eafily force you into 
 terms **. 
 
 There was a pufillaniniity and an affeClation of 
 moderation in this behaviour of Bernard. He had 
 himfelf been the aggreflor; and if he was not 
 prepared to meet the man he had injured and 
 infulted , it only proves , that he had precipitately 
 engaged in a bufinefs , which it W'ould have become 
 him to. have weighed more maturely. But he had 
 vainly expeCled, it leems, that the found of his 
 name would have over-awed the abbot of St, 
 Gildas 3 and that he fhould have been able.. 
 
 Bjrn. Ep. 189. 
 
 12 
 
 Ep. 18 7 * 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 89 
 
 without the noife of controverfy , to have eife£fed BO 4: 
 his condemnation. 
 
 Abeillard was elated by the timid condu£l of 
 his adverfary : his reiu£lance he could only afcribe 
 to the confcious ap.prehenhon of a defeat j he 
 talked loud, he called on his friends, and he 
 alfembled his admirers. To thofe who were dift- 
 ant from him he communicated , with exultation, 
 the joyful news; nor, in his letters, did he treat 
 Vv’itli much tendernefs the abbot of Clairvaux. If 
 he will dare to meet me , faid he , he lhall know 
 that I am prepared to anfwer to his charges — 
 
 The reader muff obferve , that this account is taken 
 from the pen of Bernard”. 
 
 “ The boafling of Abeillard, fays the faint, was 
 ‘‘ foon public , nor could I be ignorant of it. At 
 “ tirfl I diffembled , for by popular clamor I 
 ‘‘ was but little moved. My friends were urgent^ 
 and I gave way, though with tears, to. their 
 ‘‘ advice ; they faw the preparations which were. 
 
 making as for a public fpedlacle', and they 
 “ feared left by my abfence the people might be 
 “ injured , and the enemy triumph. His errors 
 alfo, they faid, would only gain ftrength , if no_ 
 
 “ one ftiould be prefent to anfwer or to oppofe, 
 
 “ them ” — He fet out. The difcouraging 
 reflection hung upon his mind , that he was 
 unprepared for , and unequal to , the conteft; : 
 
 £p, 189- 
 
 Ibid» 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
go 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book but in the words of the gofpel he found con- 
 \ folation ; “ Be not thoughtful, how or what to 
 \ fpeak , for at that fame hour fhall be given you 
 what you are to fpeak. ” Thus penfively 
 mufing he travelled on, and arrived, when he 
 was little expeded , on the appointed day, at 
 Sens. 
 
 H ) The alTembly opened with great fplendor. 
 Lewis the young, king of France, was there , with 
 his nobles ; as were William count of Nevers, and 
 Theobald count of Champagne. The clergy were 
 numerous : the archbilliop of Sens with his fuffragan 
 billiops , and Samfon of Reims , with the prelates 
 of his diocefe. Many abbots with their monks , 
 profelfors from the fchools, and the learned men 
 of the kingdom, were prefent'* — The hrft day was 
 fpent in the ceremony of tranflating the relics, for 
 which the meeting had been principally convened; 
 and it was done with uncommon pomp and 
 magnificence. The prefence of the king gave a 
 brilliancy to every ceremony. 
 
 The gorgeous day was over , and the next rofe 
 with unufual expe6lalion. The members of the 
 aflembly took their feats ; king , lords , prelates, 
 and commons. The two abbots entered , followed 
 by their friends , and walked to their refpedfive 
 places. Every eye was on them. A dead filence 
 prevailed. The abbot of Clairvaux rofe from his feat ; 
 
 «I 
 
 FUury , vol. 
 
ABEILLAUD AND HELOISA. gt 
 
 his attitude fpohe difFidence, and his countenance BOOK 
 was humble. I am no accufer of this man , Vi. 
 
 “ faid he , let his own works fpeak againft him. 
 
 ‘‘ Here they are , and thefe are the propofitions ^ 
 
 extradied from them. Let him deny they are 
 “ his ; or condemn them , if thqy be erroneous ; ^ 
 
 “ or let him anfwer to the objeftions I fhall urge 
 “ againft them. He then delivered the charges 
 into the hands of the Promoter , to be diftindly 
 read. 
 
 He began to read , and the council liftened with 
 attention : but he had not advanced far , when he 
 was interrupted by the rifing of Abeillard. The 
 ftep was irregular ; out of refpeft , however , to 
 his charadler , they fliowed a readinefs to hear 
 
 him. I appeal to Rome^ faid he, and ftept forward 
 
 to quit the affembly.— A general furprife ftruck 
 every countenance ; they could hardly give credit 
 to their ears: but when the murmur had fubfided, 
 
 Bernard advanced and fpoke. “• Abeillard , faid 
 “ he, do you fear for your perfon? You have 
 ‘‘ permiffion to fpeak freely and in full fecurity; 
 
 no fentence fliall be pronounced againft you. — • 
 
 The remonftrance was without efiedl. I have 
 “ appealed to the Roman fee, replied he, and 
 inftantly withdrew. 
 
 Writers have been much puzzled to account 
 for this extraordinary behaviour of Abeillard. The 
 admirers of Bernard fay , that he was fo ftruck 
 
9? 
 
 HISTOIiY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 » o o 
 vr. 
 
 4 
 
 by the more than human appearance of the faint, 
 as to lofe his recolleftipn and all prefence of 
 mind '* — It is the opinion pf others that, when he 
 confidered the dirpofitions of his judges , men 
 partially attached to his accufer , he deemed it 
 more prudent to refer his caufe to a higlier court, 
 where he knew he had friends , apd Ihould find 
 protection Of this however he might have been 
 aware, before he challenged Bernard to meet him 
 
 at Sens , and provoked a public conteft Others 
 
 relate that, he was apprehenfive of a populer tumult, 
 4vhich might endanger his life , and faw no better 
 
 means of efcaping than by appealing to Rome “ 
 
 In this laft account , I believe, there may be truth. 
 It accords with the timid heart of Abeillard j and 
 befides , from the general complexion of the 
 affembly, ofwhich he could not competently judge, 
 till his own eyes had witneffed it, there might be 
 ferious reafon to fear that j office would not be done 
 him. The treatment he hatl experienced from the 
 council of SoifTons , would now rife , in full force, 
 upon his recoUedion j and when he beheld with 
 what marks of religious veneration the perfon of 
 Bernard was treated , and his words received , could 
 he expeCt an impartial hearing ? Confcious, however, 
 as he Avas of his own innocence , had not his 
 heart been timid as the hare’s, he might have met, 
 
 ** Gadef. in vita E^rn. 1. iii, " Bern, Ep. ad Innoccn. 
 
 Qtho. de geft. frid. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 93 
 
 it feems , the ill-founded charges of his anta- BOOK, 
 gonift , might have fpoken , as he was fo able , VI, 
 in his own defence , and have waited , with man- 
 linefs , the fentence of the council. 
 
 Thef proceedings of the affembly were rriuch 
 difconcerted by the appeal of Abeillard. It was 
 informal , they knew , as he had voluntarily fub- 
 mitted himfelf to their cognizance j but he had 
 now referred his caufe to the fupreme court of 
 judicature. After fome debate , in which the 
 Opinions were much divided, it was finally agreed 
 that , out of refpe 6 f to Rome , the perfon of 
 Abeillard fhould be fpared , but that judgment 
 fhould be pronounced on his opinions. The propo- 
 fitions', which Bernard had prefented , were then 
 read and examined : he himfelf fpoke largely and 
 with vehemence on the fubjeff , and he pro- 
 ved, to the convi 6 lion of the meeting, from the 
 authorities of the fcriptures and of the ancient 
 fathers , that they were not only falfe , but here- 
 tical. As fuch they were condemned. — The next 
 flep was to inform the bifliop of Rome of their 
 proceedings , to requeft the confirmation of their 
 fentence , and to take every pofiible precaution 
 that Abeillard fhould not find that fupport in Italy, 
 on which he feemed to rely. This commiffion 
 was intrufled to the abbot of Clairvaux”. 
 
 He entered with alacrity into tl=ie views of tho 
 
 Fleury, vofi xiv. 
 
9i 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK council, and it is clear that they chofe an able 
 Vl. agent. Nothing can be more artful, more fevere, 
 or more abufive , than the letters he wrote , on 
 this occafion , to Rome. He wrote to his Holiiiefs 
 ^ in the name of the archbliliop of Sens and 
 
 his fuffragans , and in the name of the arch- 
 billiop of Reims and the three prelates who 
 accompanied him. In the firft he details tlie 
 tranfacdion of the affembly , and he entreats 
 him to impofe filence on Abeillard , to forbid 
 him either to teach or to write in future , and 
 condemn his works ; that by fo doing he will 
 draw the thorns out of thfe field of the church, 
 
 and that it will again flourifh and bear fruit. 
 
 The fecond is lefs prolix , and more violent. He 
 treats Abeillard as a monfler fwelling witli pride, 
 who marches with an ere6l countenance , as 
 if nothing were hidden from him , who pre- 
 tends to penetrate the myfteries of faith,; while, 
 all he builds up , is a pile of errors. The 
 
 “ boafting of the man , he fays , is the more 
 vain - glorious , becaufe his book has found 
 readers in the Roman court. This has con- 
 
 “ firmed , and given energy to his rage We 
 
 “ have proceeded in the bufmefs as far as it 
 « was expedient : it remains with you , mofl, 
 holy Father , to take care that , in your day 
 ‘‘ the beauty of the churcli be defiled by no 
 ^ Rain of heretical depravity. ” 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. g5 
 
 In his own name he then addreffes the pontiff BOOK 
 in two different letters. In the hrft he fpecifies vi. 
 the principal errors afcribed to Abeillard , and 
 he refutes them. There is fome addrefs and logi- 
 cal acutenefs in this attempt , with a large portion 
 of declamation and of malevolent refle^lions. — 
 
 The fecond is more reprehenfible. He wifhes 
 his own fpeedy diffolution, on account of the 
 evils which , on all fides , threaten. He had ho- 
 ped , after the fuppreffion of the late fchifm , cau- 
 fed by Peter de Leon , to have repofed from his 
 labors ; but that now as dangerous a fform was 
 gathered round him. A new gofpel , he fayss 
 has been forged for the chriflian people , and a 
 new faith propofed to their belief : Abeillard of 
 France has beckoned to the Italian , Arnold of 
 Brefcia , and they have come forward , in ftridt 
 confederacy , to affail , with all their might , the 
 religion of Chrift. In their drefs and diet they 
 fupport the affectation of piety , and to deceive 
 more eafily , transform themfelves into angels of 
 light. He concludes : “ You who have fucceed- 
 
 O 
 
 ed to the chair of Peter muff now confider, 
 
 “ whether he who attacks the faith of that 
 « apoftle, fliould hnd refuge in his fee. Weigh your 
 fituation. Why were you raifed over ftates and 
 kingdoms, unlefs to root out, to deftroy, to build 
 “ up, and to plant ? Schifm you have extinguifhed : 
 with the fame f UOW ci’ulh thefe rifing 
 
96 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “ herefies , and your crown will be complet- 
 VL “ ed 
 
 It feems more probable tliat the other letters ^ 
 which I mentioned as written to the Roman pre- 
 lates before the council of Sens , fiiould rather be 
 referred to this period. The reader may recur 
 to the extracts I gave, and to the reflexions which 
 accompanied them. 
 
 Thus did Bernard , true to his own charaXer 
 and to the views of the alTembly , aim to vilify 
 and render odious to the Roman court the 
 name and principles of the man , who had ap- 
 pealed to its equity , and who was foon in per- 
 Ibn to appear before it. So intolerant , and fo 
 impofirtg even on the beft minds , is religious 
 zeal , when once it has paffed thofe limits , which 
 reafon , humanity , and the gofpel have oppofed 
 to its baneful fpread! 
 
 ThefentenGe The pope , roufed by thefe fltrong expoftu- 
 
 againft lations , Waited not for the arrival of Abeillard , 
 
 Ab«illard. , ' , „ . . „ , . 
 
 but pronounced a dehmtive lentence on nis 
 
 works and perfon. Having remarked that , it is 
 never allowed to bring thofe matters again into 
 difcuflion, which have once been decided in coun- 
 cils, he adds , “ VVitli the advice of the biJliops and 
 cardinals of our court, we have condemned the 
 “ articles, which were fent to us, and, all the falfe 
 opinions of Peter Abeillard together with their 
 
 Ep. 189- 
 
 author : 
 
ABEILLARD and HELOISA. 97 
 
 author ; and as a heretic we have impofed per- 
 « petual filence on him. We think alfo that all 
 “ his followers and the abettors of his errors, 
 “ fnould be cut oil from the communion of the 
 faithful. ’’ — This was accompanied by another 
 fentence , addrelfed to the two-archbilhops : “We 
 “ command you to confine , feparately , in fucli 
 “ monafteries, as you may deem bell, Peter Abeil- 
 “ lard and Arnold of Brefcia , contrivers of erro- 
 “ neous doctrine, and impugners of the catholic 
 “ faith , and to burn their works, wherever they 
 “ may he found 
 
 How arbitrary are fucli proceedings ! To Con- 
 demn opinions , which the council of Sens had 
 previoufly condemned, and which came before 
 him in a form fo obnoxious , might have been 
 allowed to the Roman pontiff ; but to cenfure the 
 perfon of a man , who would foon be at his bar 
 and to condemn writings which he had never feen, 
 was furely an unwarrantable flretch of ecclefiaflical 
 defpotifm. 
 
 Minutely to hate the errors , of which the abbot 
 of St. Hildas was accufed , would be a ufelefs and 
 uninterefting labor. They were reduced to four- 
 teen; That there are degrees in the Trinity ; that 
 
 the Holy Ghofl is hot confubflantial with the 
 Father and the Son; that the devil had never any 
 power over man , and that Jefus Chrift becamo 
 
 Fbury , vol. xiv. p. 556* 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 0 o 1C 
 VI. 
 
 H 
 
9 * 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ^ O O K man not to redeem, but to inftrud usby his word» 
 Yi. and example , and that he fufl'ered and died to 
 manifefi; his love for man ; that the Holy Ghoft is 
 the foul of the world ; that Jefus Chrift God and 
 man^ is not properly God ; that we can will and do 
 good by our own free will, without the help of 
 grace j that in the facrament of the Lord’s fupper 
 the accidents of bread remain in the air; that the 
 punifliment , not the guilt , of original fin , is 
 derived from Adam ; that there is no fm , unlefs 
 the finner give his confent , and contemn God j 
 that concupifcence , delight , and ignorance are 
 the caufe of no fin ; that the fuggeftions of the devil 
 are railed in man phyfically, by the conta£l of 
 flones, plants, and other things, of which he knows 
 the efficacy : that faith is the opinion or judgment 
 we form of things invifible; that God can only do 
 what he has done , and will do j that Jefus did not 
 defcend into hell 
 
 Such were thefe famous errors. Some of them 
 might be contained in the expreffions of Abeillard, 
 and thefe he wilhed to explain ; but the greatefl 
 part were the evident mifconceptions of his ad- 
 verfaries. In his works might often be found 
 uncommon language, and fome extraordinary opi- 
 nions : heterodoxy there was none , if the views 
 and real fentiments of the author had been candidly 
 weighed. But nothing, it has been obfervedj i^ f<g 
 
 22 
 
 Nat. Alex. fee. xii. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA; 9^ 
 
 eafy, as to defcry errors where you wifii to find 
 them ; and this will ever be , in the works and 
 opinions of thofe , who may only feem to diffent 
 from the multitude. 
 
 Berengarius, a fcholar of Abeillard , a young 
 man of fome wit and learning, but petulant, 
 abufive , and vain , wrote in defence of his mailer. 
 His inve£live againfl Bernard is frothy and con- 
 temptible; and the fathers of the council of Sens 
 hedefcribes , as over-powered by wane and fleep, 
 while they pronounced fentence on the fuppofed 
 errors of Abeillard 
 
 The abbot of St. Gildas having precipitately 
 retired from the council , did not immediately quit 
 the neigbourhood of Sens. He waited for the refult 
 of their deliberations, which was foon notified to 
 him : and now he faw the neceffity of inllantly 
 beginning his journey. The inveterate fpirit of hig 
 enemies , which had prompted them to ad fo 
 harfhly , would not defift , he might well know,' 
 in the firfl fcage of their profecution : tlieir com- 
 plaints and accufations might reach Rome before 
 
 liim Not much preparation was neceffary ; but 
 
 old as he now was , having entered on his fixty- 
 hrfl year , and infirm , and afflided , it was an. 
 arduous and irkfome undertaking. On France^ 
 where he had fuffered much , h® could turn, h,is 
 
 ’’ Abeil. Op. p. 
 
 ■% 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VI. 
 
 He Tets oti^ 
 for Rome. 
 
lOo HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK back without relu£lance , and he flattered himfelf 
 VI. that Italy might be more propitious to his name. 
 Friends, at leafl, he knew, he had in the Romans 
 court ; and there might be fome confolation in the 
 thought , that his eyes Avoiild foon behold the 
 capital of the chrifiian world. 
 
 Revolving in his mind the various events of an 
 unhappy life , and dubious wliat might be the 
 iffue of his prefent enterprife , he journeyed llowly 
 on. After fome days , though he had made but 
 little of his way , he felt his ftrength exhaufted , and 
 foon he was fenfible that he mufl; look for fome 
 hofpitable roof , under which to repofe his weary 
 limbs. But could fuch a roof be found where the 
 name of his adverfary was fo highly venerated ? 
 He recolleded that Quni , a celebrated monaflery 
 on the confines of Burgundy , was not very diftant^ 
 and that Peter Maurice , to whom the appellation 
 of venerable had been given , was abbot. He knew 
 him not perfonally, but to his charadfer he wat 
 no Rranger. Peter v^as an honefl; man , his benevo- 
 lence was proverbial , and he had a heart which 
 could feci for the diftreffes of his brother. To alt 
 for refrefliment and a few days refl: from fuch a 
 man , could hardly give pain to a difpofition the 
 moft falfly delicate. Abeillard redoubled his fleps , 
 and, without hefitation j entered the convent of 
 Cluni ‘h 
 
 Ep, Pit, Ven. p, 33?. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. loi 
 
 He was met by the good abbot. — My name, 
 “ faid the traveller , is Peter Abeillard : 1 found 
 
 * your gates open , and I entered ; I am in 
 diltrefs. ” — The venerable man would hear na 
 
 ** more ; it was not a moment for inquiries ; and 
 from the mention of his name he knew the refpedt 
 that was due to the ftranger. He led him to his 
 
 O 
 
 apartments : whatever his fituation demanded was 
 inftantly provided ; and Abeillard bleffed the kind 
 flar which had conducted him to Clmii. In the 
 countenance and behaviour of his generous pro- 
 tedlor he read more goodnefs than even fame had 
 reported of him. 
 
 When repofe , but more than that , the friendly 
 reception he had met witli, had fom.ewhat refreflied 
 tlie forlorn traveller , Peter , the next morning , 
 waited on him. “ I am happy , faid he , taking 
 
 * Abeillard by the hand, to pcflefs within thefe 
 walls a man ; of whofe abilities and virtues I 
 have long beared fo much : but tell me ; from; 
 
 * whence come you , and whither are you 
 ‘‘ going ? ” — “I come , replied Abeillard , from 
 ^ Sens : a council , as you may know , has been 
 ^ celebrated in that city : I have been charged 
 “ before it with opinions , which I never held : thofe 
 ^ opinions they have condemned as heretical j 
 " and I have appealed to Home. To Rome there- 
 ^ fore I am now going*'. — He then added many 
 
 Ep. Pet. Vcn» p. ^55. 
 
 H 3 
 
 O O K 
 
102 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 O O K Other circumftances , informing him who had been 
 yi» his principal adverfaries , and how cruelly he 
 had been treated by them. — “’I applaud your 
 defign , obferved the abbot of Cluni : Rome is 
 the afylum of the opprelTed, and you do well 
 to recur to its jultice. Fear not that your grie- 
 “ vances will not be beared , and be redrelfed : 
 the ftranger and the barbarian have found relief 
 ‘‘ there. ” — He requefted, however, that he would 
 not be precipitate; that he would take time to 
 recruit his ftrength and fpirits at Cluni ; that he 
 himfelf would confider, whether any other more 
 efficacious meafure could be a4gpted ; and that his 
 beft endeavours ffiould be exerted to ferve him. 
 
 Abeillard acquiefced : the^ benevolent and per- 
 fuafive manner of Peter was irrefiflible ; and befides, 
 how plealing to his troubled mind would be the 
 attention of the monks of Cluni, the friendlhip 
 of their abbot, and the view of that content, 
 harmony, and religious difcipline which every- 
 where prevailed ! The fight of thofe magnificent 
 buildings, and of its augufi temple, would, more- 
 over, diffufe a folemn ftillnefs in his bread Cluni, 
 
 at this time, after Mount Caffino in Italy, might 
 be regarded as the mod fplendid monadery in the 
 chridian world. Its revenues were vad, and its 
 edifices had the appearance of a well-built city. 
 Three crowned Jieads , with their refpedlive 
 
 *r 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. io3 
 
 coarts , once lodged within the precin6ls , without 
 moving a fingle monk from his apartments. A 
 long lucceffion of abbots, for more than two 
 hundred years , eminent for their virtue and their 
 learning, had given celebrity to its name. Of 
 thefe Peter Maurice was the laft, but he was not 
 the leafl in merit, or in the eftimation of an ad- 
 miring public. The monks, whofe number often 
 exceeded two hundred , were not lefs worthy , 
 iefs religious , or lefs learned , than had been their 
 fuperiors **. — All thefe were circumftances of pecu- 
 liar notice , and no mind could contemplate them 
 with indifference. 
 
 In this charming fituation, and in this fociety , 
 Abeillard began to feel his mind grow lighter. 
 He converfed with the monks , and he admired 
 them : they were delighted by his exemplary 
 deportment, his unaffeded piety, his engaging man- 
 ners, and his profound erudition. With the abbot 
 lie fpent many hours : they difcourfed on literary 
 fubjeds, on the ftate of religion, and on the 
 general complexion of the times. Abeillard relat- 
 ed many events of his life ; but they were all fad 
 and forrowful. To thefe Peter could oppofe the 
 brilliant feries of his own years, which had been 
 fercne and profperous. He did it without exultation, 
 to cheer the drooping fpirits of his friend, and 
 
 ** Fleury, rol. xiv. 
 
 H 4 
 
 BOOK 
 
 YI. 
 
 Is enteruii!» 
 t^d at Cluni, 
 and ccnfenrs 
 to remain 
 there. 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 104 
 
 J O O K to attefl his gratitude to heaven. He Avas born, 
 VI« he laid, in Auvergne, and defcended from the 
 ancient famil)^ of Maurice or Montboifher , rliat 
 when very young, agreeably to the willies ofliis 
 parents , who had devoted him to God , he had 
 entered into the houfe of Cluni ; tliat foon after 
 he was promoted to the priory of V ezelay ; and 
 that , before he had reached his thirtieth year , he 
 had heen made abbot and general of his order. 
 Far above his merit, hefaid, were thefe honors; 
 but Rome had overlooked his imperfections, and 
 his brethren had been indulgent to his weakneiles. 
 
 He related to him the extraordinary life and 
 charadler of Pontius, his predeceflor, from whom 
 he had experienced a very lingular oppoiition. 
 He had been chofen the feventh abbot of Cluni, 
 with very general approbation, and for forae years 
 had governed his order with a becoming modera- 
 tion and wifdom. But he was a man of violent 
 paffions, vain, arrogant, prefumptuous, and power 
 did but ferve to give them a greater energy. By 
 degrees, the good-will of his monks was alienated 
 from him: they charged him with many mif- 
 demeanors; that in his conduct there was an inde- 
 cent levity, that he difregarded the advice of wife 
 Counfellors , and that he dihipated, in vain parade 
 and feaPdng, the income of his monaflery. Thefe 
 complaints were carried to the ears of the pontiff 
 Callixtus. Pontius was irritated ; but he turned 
 
ABEILLAKD AND HELOISA. io3 
 
 his rage againft himfelf: he went to Rome, and 
 petitioned to be releafed, from his office. The 
 pope confented. Thus free to chufe a new profeffion, 
 he put on the pilgrim’s habit, and travelled to 
 Jerufalem, firmly refolved, as he told his friends, 
 there to end his days. He had been thirteen years 
 abbot of Cluni. ^ 
 
 Hardly had I been three years in office, con- 
 tinued Peter , when my predeceffor, difgufted with 
 Palefline, returned, through Italy, into France. 
 His partifans received him cordially, and they 
 fpoke , in the high eft ftrain , of the faiuftity^ of his 
 life: he wore iron hoops round his arm.s, they laid; 
 ate nothing, prayed inceffantly, and that the fouleft 
 diforders vaniflied at his touch. I was then ablent 
 from Cliini, on fome bufinefs of my order , in 
 Aquitaine. Pontius for fome time diffembledj he 
 feemed unwilling to go to Cluni , but infenfibly he 
 approached it; and colleCiing round him fome 
 renegade monks and a few armed men , on a fud- 
 den he appeared before the gates. Bernard the 
 prior and his monks , were foon difperfed , and 
 Pontius entered the convent at the head of hi& 
 followers. 
 
 Of the few, whom he found within the walls, 
 fome he compelled by threats or torments, to 
 fwear obedience to him , and the refradiory he 
 expelled or threw into prifon. The croffes, chalices, 
 and every thing that was valuable , he melted down 
 
 O O it 
 VI.. 
 
io6 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 S O O K to pay his foldiers, and to enrich his dependants, 
 yi. Nor would this fatisfy him; he marched out at 
 the head of armed parties againft the caftles and 
 flrong places belonging to the monaflery, and the 
 Wiiole country he laid wafle by fire and fword. 
 For more than half a year did thefe devaflations 
 Irifi; ; while Bernard and 4^iis faithful affociates made 
 the bell defence they could , and intrepidly with- 
 hood the attacks and ftratagems of the enemy. 
 
 I remained in Aquitaine. ?dy prefence, I thought, 
 would only have increafed the flame, and I was, 
 indeed , little difpofed, as 1 was little qualified, to 
 make head againft the martial and enterprifing 
 Fontius Soon after, a terrible anathema was pro- 
 
 nounced againft him by Rome ; neverthelefs , 
 both parties were cited before that tribunal. I 
 obeyed, and my antagonift foon followed. The 
 day was fixed for our appearance; but as Pontius 
 was an excommunicated man, he could not , 
 agreeably to the canons, be admitted to the bar: 
 notice was therefore fent to him , that he fhould 
 prepare himfelf for abfolution , by a due courfe 
 of penance. He anfwered the meffenger , that the 
 power of excommunication belonged only to St. 
 Peter, and that no mortal man poffelTed it — .1 
 need not fay , liow rnucJi this haughty reply enra- 
 ged the pontiff; the Roman people were ftruck with 
 horror , and Pontius was proclaimed a fchifmatic 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 107 
 
 The fame meffage was then fent to his partifans. 
 They were more tradable ; they acknowleged their 
 crimes ; barefooted they entered the palace , and 
 were abfolved. Afterwards they were admitted to 
 plead the caufe of their mafter , though the in- 
 dulgence was remarkable , and feldom had been 
 beared a more groundlefs plea. — Our defence 
 was then called for ; we fpoke , and were liftened 
 
 to with attention His holinefs rofe from his 
 
 throne , and withdrew with his council , to weigh 
 the merits of our caufe. After fome hours, he 
 returned , refumed his feat , and the hihiop of 
 Porto was ordered to read the fentence. It was in 
 thefe words : “ The holy Roman church depofes , 
 “ for ever , from all dignity and ecclefiaftical 
 funftions , Pontius, the facrilegious ufurper, 
 ‘‘ and the excommunicated fchifmatic ; and re- 
 flores Cluni , with its monks and polfelfions , to 
 ‘‘ the prefent abbot , from whom they have been 
 unjuflly taken. ” 
 
 The fentence had the defired effe^l ; the difaf- 
 fecfled members fubmitted to my authority , and 
 the fchifra 5 in a moment, ceafed. But the proud 
 fpirit of Pontius was unconquerable , and by order 
 of the pope he was thrown into a dungeon. As 
 we were preparing to return into France, we 
 were all feized by a contagious malady , which then 
 was rife in Rome. The unhappy prifoner was alfo 
 feized. Chagrined and heated by intemperate 
 
loS HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 Jt o o K exertions , he was not in a condition to withftand 
 VI. the raging fever, and he expired as he had lived, 
 fearlefs and impenitent. The reft of us foon 
 recovered 
 
 Tims in learned and entertaining intercourfe» 
 the liouis palled. Peter was much pleafed with 
 liis gueft; he could difcover nothing in his manners 
 or converration , which was not exemplary and 
 improving; and it occurred to him that, could he 
 detain him at Cluni , it might prove of much advan- 
 tage to his fubjedfs. Belides, he compaliioiiated 
 his fufferings , and was anxious to relieve them. 
 The matter however was delicate , and it required 
 fome addrefs to propofe it in terms W'hich might not 
 be offerifive. Abeillard Vv’as an abbot, a man of 
 high reputation , and his fame was fuffering from 
 imputations , which , it feemed , could only be 
 cancelied at the bar of Pvome. 
 
 In the mean time arrived at Cluni Rainardus, 
 abbot of Citeaux , and general of the Ciftercian 
 order of monks. He came , it appears , on the 
 laudable and humane bufinefs , of effebling a re- 
 conciliation between Abeillard and St. Bernard 
 The latter Avas his fubjebl ; and probably the violent 
 manner, in which he had conduced the profe- 
 cution againft the abbot of St. Gildas, had not 
 methis approbation. Rainardus was a man of gfeat 
 
 Fleury, vol. xw. ** Ep. Pet. Ven, p. 336. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 109 
 
 •mildnefs, piety, and erudition. He opened his 
 defign to Peter, and begged his concurrence. No 
 meafure could be more agreeable to the charader 
 of his good heart , and together they waited on 
 Abeillard. 
 
 I am come , faid the abbot of Citeaux , after the 
 shrfl falutations were over, to propofe to you an 
 
 accommodation with my brother Bernard I was 
 
 ever a friend to peace , replied Abeillard , and have 
 been forced into the prefent meafures by the 
 violence of the man, whofe name you have men- 
 tioned , and for whofe virtues I otherwife enter- 
 tain the higheft refpedt. Indeed I have been ill- 
 
 ufed Will you go along with me then to Clair- 
 
 vaux ? inquired Rainardus : there we fliall find 
 Bernard , and I have no doubt but , in the firft 
 interview , every caufe of diffenfion will be at once 
 removed. — Abeillard thanked him for his kindnefs, 
 but hefitated to give a dire6l anfwer to his propofalj 
 befides, continued he, I am on my journey to 
 
 R.ome , and can defer it no longer You muff, 
 
 my friend , go to Clairvaux , faid the abbot of 
 Cluni , interrupting him ; and as for your journey 
 to Italy , it is not fo prefling , and may as well be 
 
 undertaken after your return I can oppoie your 
 
 whiles no longer , obferved Abeillard , if you really 
 think, that the caufe of peace, or my own repu-r 
 tation , can be benefited by my compliance, — . 
 The abbots applauded his difpofitiqj^ , and then 
 
 o O JC 
 VI, 
 
tio HISTORY OF THE LIVES OP 
 
 book obferved that , as he had never had any other 
 VI» intention , than to promote truth and to ferve his 
 neighbour, he could have no difficulty to retra6l 
 or to amend any expreffions , either in his dif- 
 courfes or in his writings, which had been judged 
 reprehenfible. — Such have ever been my difpo- 
 fitions , replied Abeillard 
 
 The abbot of Cluni wiflied them all fuccefs ill 
 their undertaking, and they departed for Clairvaux. 
 jWe know not the particulars of the interview, 
 only that, after matters had been properly ex- 
 plained j on both fides , a fincere reconciliation 
 took place betwixt Abeillard and Bernard. The 
 abbot of St Gildas then returned to Cluni , where 
 Peter , in anxious expectation , waited his coming, 
 and his heart was gladdened with the news. 
 
 But it was now reported , and the report was 
 foon confirmed that , in confequence of the letters 
 Bernard had difpatched to Rome , a fentence , fuch 
 as has been mentioned, had been pronounced 
 againft Abeillard. Moderate men were flruck by the 
 intemperate and irregular tranfaClion , and no one 
 fo much as Peter of Cluni; but out of the evil, 
 he thought, good might be drawn: Abeillard per- 
 haps might now be induced to accede to the pro- 
 pofal, he had for fome time revolved in his mind , 
 and take up his refidence in the monaftery of Cluni. 
 
 Ep. Pet. Yen. p. 536. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOTSA. in 
 
 Abeillard was not prepared for the unexpeded 
 ihock. He had appealed to the equity of Rome, 
 was haflening to fubmit himfelf to its decifion , and 
 had jufi; been reconciled to the leading profecuror. 
 Unheard he found himfelf fentencecj to filence 
 and imprifonment , his works condemned to the 
 flames , his opinions anathematized , and his name 
 conjoined, by an infamous ftigma , with that of 
 Arnold of Brefcia. Peter in vain offered him comfort: 
 his cafe was almofl: unprecedented in the annals of 
 perfecution , and he would not add to his pajn 
 by attempting to extenuate the bad condud of 
 his enemies. From himfelf, his experience o£ 
 human malevolence , and his ready fubmiflion to 
 the will of heaven , he concluded , the beft refources 
 might be derived on this trying occaficn : to them, 
 he would leave him , and wait till refiedion had 
 worn off the edge of refentment. 
 
 O 
 
 Habituated as the mind of Abeillard had beca 
 to ill ufage , it feemed fooner to recover from tlie 
 Ihock. The frienlliip of Peter Maurice , the fym~ 
 pathizing deportment of his monks , and the holy 
 retirement of the place, all conmbuted to ffill the 
 agitation of his heart. The abbot , with joy perceived 
 the effed, and would not lofe the happy moment.— 
 “ Abeillard , laid he to him , you muff not leave 
 us. Can you fubmit to remain at Ciuni? The late 
 ** event , which we viewed as a difaffer , was' 
 ” perhaps meant to promote your felicity, and 
 
 o 0 K 
 
 VI. 
 
119 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 1? o o 
 
 VI, 
 
 “ ours conjointly with it. There is not an inhabitant 
 under this roof, who does notwiih to be longer 
 “ edified by your example, and improved by 
 « your inftruftion. ” — Abeillard remained filent: 
 the benevolence of his prote£lor , and the fudden 
 propofal , feemed to overpower him. Your 
 “ kindnefs , faid he at laft , I feel like balm upon 
 my mind ; and how flattering is the goodnefs 
 of your monks ! But you know , it is not in my 
 “ power to accept your generous offer ; I have 
 ‘‘ myfelf an abbey to attend to , to which I muft re- 
 turn, if my enemies will allow it. Belides, this fatal 
 fentence , which has been pronounced againft 
 me , has caft me out from the fociety of chriflians : 
 “ in the horrors of a prifon muft my remaining 
 melancholy days be confumed. ” — “I will make 
 ‘‘ your peace with Rome, rejoined the abbot ear- 
 “ neftly , and procure permiffion for you to remain 
 at Cluni, if you will give me your confent. ” — 
 A requeft fo reafonable , and withal fo footh- 
 ing to his diftrefsful fituation , could not be 
 refufed. Abeillard embraced his fiiend , and they 
 parted **. 
 
 The venerable man , without delay , wrote to 
 the Roman bifliop. He begins his letter by relating 
 the circumftances, which the reader has juft beared, 
 ^or they are taken from this letter, and when he 
 
 Ej. Pet. Cluniae. Vie d’Abeil. p. 144- 
 
 comes 
 
ABEILLAllD AND HELOISA. ii3 
 
 comes to the main fiibjecl of his petition, he fays: 
 “ Induced by my advice, or rather, I think, in- 
 “ fpired by heaven , he has chofen to relinqmfli 
 “ the tumultuary fcenes of fcholaflic fludies and 
 “ difputation , and witli us to take up his lad 
 “ abode at Clunk His age, his infirmities , his piety, 
 ‘‘ afl'efted me much, and alfo I was led to believe 
 that his learning, to which your holinefs is no 
 flranger, might be rendered very ferviceable to 
 the crowds of young men , who inhal^it thefe 
 cloiflers. It is now your approbation only which 
 we wait for. Grant it , therefore , we humbly 
 ‘‘ intreat you. I requeft it , I , the meanefi; of your 
 fervants , and the abbey of Cluni , ever devoted 
 “ to you , joins my petition ,• let the voice of 
 Abeillard be beared Avith ours ; it is his prayer 
 “ that the remaining days of an unhappy life ^ 
 ‘‘ which perhaps are but few , he may be com- 
 “ manded to fpend at Clunk Like the fparrow he 
 “ has chofen this habitation , and like the plaintive 
 “ turtle, he rejoices here to have built his nefl. 
 
 May no oppofition difturb his reft , no violence 
 “ intrude on his retirement. You who are the 
 “ guardian of the good and virtuous , and who 
 “ once loved Abeillard , will take him under the 
 “ fliield of your apoflolical protekdion, 
 
 A meffenger was difpatched with this letter to 
 Rome , and Abeillard , compofed and fubmillive 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
 Voi,. II. 
 
 I 
 
114 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 VI. 
 
 Arnold 
 
 Brefcia. 
 
 K waiting his return , once more gave his mind to 
 hudy, and to the occupations of retirement and 
 literary eafe. Here I fnall leave him: other matters 
 call for notice , which , agreeably to my plan , muft 
 not be omitted, 
 
 of Among the extraordinary charadlers, wliich illuf- 
 trated or difgraced this period, none dre^v after it 
 more obfervation , than that of Arnold, whofe 
 name has been more than once mentioned, born 
 at Brefcia , a town in the Venetian territories. 
 W^hen young he quitted his native country , and 
 travelling into PTance , became a fcholar of Peter 
 Abeillard. What proficiency he made in fcience , 
 is not faid j but his contemporaries defcribe him 
 as a man endowed with no uncommon abilities, 
 polfeihng a great fluency of language with little 
 judgment, fond of novelties and of opinions the 
 mofl paradoxical After many years relidence in 
 France he returned to Italy. — Arnold was foon 
 fenfible , that celebrity was not to be obtained by 
 ordinary means , and his difpofitions were little 
 formed to purfue the beaten paths of life : to colleT 
 a party, to give his name to a fedt , or to attack the 
 rich and powerful, were ideas before which his 
 mind expanded. Obje61s could not be long 
 wanting for the exercife of liis wildelt ambition. 
 He viewed the depraved manners and the 
 
 Ott. Friling. 1 , ii. Gunth. Ligur, 1. 3 . 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. n5 
 
 intemperate lives of the monks and clergy ^ and 
 againfl them he would dired the fevered oppofi- 
 tion. Idis caufe , he well knew ^ would be popular , 
 and the better, under the guife of fandity , to 
 effed his purpofe ^ he threw over his flioulders, 
 the auflere drefs of a religious man. 
 
 T. hus habited, Arnold opened his invedive in 
 the ftreets of Brefcia. Xhe people crowded round, 
 him. He told them he was fent to reform abufes , 
 to pull down the proud , and to exalt the humble. 
 He then pointed his declamation againft the 
 bifliops, againfl the clergy , againfl the monks, and 
 finally againfl the Roman pontiff himfelf : to the 
 j laity only he was indulgent ^ and them even he 
 
 i flattered in their crimes. Churchmen , laid hej, 
 
 who hold benefices , billiops who have domains^ 
 and monks that have polfefTions , will all be 
 
 damned — His hearers fliouted approbation Thefe 
 
 I things, continued he ^ belong to the prince, he 
 ; may give them to whom he pleafes, buthe tauft 
 give them to the laity. It is on their tithes and the 
 voluntary Contributions of the people that thofe 
 foils of God muft live : they mull be frugal . con- 
 tinent , and mortified. 
 
 Thus does Guntherus of Liguria, a very elegant 
 poet of the age , fpeak of Arnold and his preaching : 
 
 Tandem natalibus oris 
 Rodditus , affuni'pta fspie.ntis fronte , difcrto 
 Fallebat fermons rudes ; clerumque pro2?ci 
 
 I a 
 
 O O K 
 
 VI. 
 
Ii o o 
 Vi. 
 
 \ 
 
 116 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 Infetflans odio, monachoriim acerrimus hoflis , 
 
 Plebis adulator , gardens popularibus auris , 
 
 PontlFces , ipfunique gravi corrodere lingua 
 Audebat papam 5 fceleiataque dogmata vulgo 
 Diffundens, variis implebat vocibus aures. 
 
 Lib. 2. 
 
 The clmrch of Brefcia was foon thrown into the 
 f;reateft confnfion , and the people , already preju- 
 diced againft their miniflers , threatened to overturn 
 their altars. The facred writings he had the addrels 
 to urge in fupport of his affertions , and from them 
 he denounced the vengeance of heaven againfl the 
 violators of the law. Indeed, nothing could be 
 more glaringly offenfive , than the often tatious 
 parade of the bifliops and great abbots , and the 
 foft and licentious lives of the monks and clergy; 
 but Arnold , in his declamation , far exceeded the 
 bounds of truth. 
 
 Pontificum faftus , abbatum denique laxos 
 Camnabat penitus mores , monachofque fuperbos. 
 Veraque miilta quidem, nifi tempora noftra fideles 
 Reipuerent moratus, falfis admixta monebat. 
 
 Et fateor , pulchram fallendi noverat artem , 
 
 Veris falfa prT)bans ; quia tantum faifa loquendo 
 Psallere nemo potdl. 
 
 In 1 ) 3 g was celebrated a grand council at Rome. 
 Arnold was cited to appear before it. His accufers 
 were d!{l^bi^llop of Brefcia, and many others, whom 
 he had ridiculed and infulted. Nor from his 
 judges could he look for much indulgence. He 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 117 
 
 ^vas found guilty , and fentenced to perpetual b 
 filence. Confidering his crime, this furely was a 
 gentle punifliment But Arnold , whofe higheft 
 ambition lay in the free ufe of words, viewed it, 
 polfibly , in a lefs partial light : he therefore in- 
 llantly left Italy, croffed the Alps, and fat down 
 at Zuric, where he dogmatized with new virulence 
 and great fuccefs» 
 
 O 
 
 Territus, & milerse confufus imagine cuipce 
 Fiigit ab urhc fua , tranfa'pinlfque receptus, 
 
 Qua fibi vicinas A'emaunia fufpijit alpes , 
 
 Nobile Tureguni , dodoris nomine falfo , 
 
 Infedit, totamque brevi fub tempore terram 
 Pe. fidus impuri fcedavit dogmatis aura. 
 
 Though Arnold had quitted Italy , yet had hiiJ 
 opinions taken deep root , and Rome itfelf was in- 
 fedied by them. Irritated b]'- the conduct of their 
 maher , Innocent the fecond , the Roman people 
 affembled i)i the Capitol. It was propofed that 
 the power of tlie pontilT, which they called exor- 
 bitant , lliould be rcftrained : this was carriedt 
 when fuddcnly, infpired as it were by the genius 
 of the place, they moved that the fenate , which 
 for years had been abolillied , hiould be reftored. 
 The propofition was received with the loudeft 
 acclamations. Innocent in vain oppofed the bold 
 defign ; there was a magic in it which fpread irre- 
 fiftiblv » and for a moment feemed to roufe the fallen 
 
 i 5 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
IIS HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK fpirit of the nation. The pojDe viewed with }jor- 
 YI, ror the reverfe of fortune wiiich threatened tiie 
 tiara; to be Ihorn of his mighty power, and to 
 become the mere ffiepherd of the chrhlian people, 
 was a thought too ailUaing : lie fell fick , and 
 died 
 
 Under his two immediate fucceffors , Celeflin 
 and Lucius , whofe reigns were but of a few 
 months , the Romans purfued their darling objeft. 
 They waited on the latter, and, in an imperious 
 tone , demanded the reflitution of all the honors 
 and civil rights, which had been ufurped from 
 tlie people. The prince of the fenate , laid they, 
 whom we have chofen , will beft adminifler the 
 important truft: the tithes and offerings of the 
 faithful will fufficiently anfwer all the exigencies 
 of your holinefs : it was thus that our ancient 
 bifliops lived. _ Lucius ',had recourfe to Conrad , 
 the king of the Romans ; and at the fame time , 
 the malecontents fent an embaffy to him , offering 
 him their empire , and rei^ueffing that he would 
 march to their affiftance. To this invitation 
 Conrad gave no attention ; he viewed it as an 
 attempt, at once wild and licentious: but to the 
 popes deputies he fhowed every mark of effeem. 
 Lucius’ furvived this event but a few days. 
 
 Eugenius the third was his fucceffbr, the friend 
 and difciple of the renowned Bernard. The night 
 
 **Fleury, vol. xiv. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 119 
 
 before his coiifecration the fenators aflembled, 
 and it was agreed y that either he Hiould folemnly 
 confirm all their proceedings , or they would 
 annul his eledlion. This refolution was notified 
 to him. He called together his friends j and it 
 was their advice, that he fiiould neither accede 
 to the extravagant demand , nor expofe himfelf, 
 by a refufal, to the fury of the populace. He 
 therefore filently withdrew from Rome , and 
 retired to a neighbouring fortrefs. Here the ce- 
 remony of his confecration was performed. 
 
 Arnold who , in banifliment , had contemplated 
 the effedl of his admonitions on the minds of 
 the Romans, and tlie fuccefs which feemed to 
 follow their exertions , v.^as now informed that 
 the pope had retired, and that the gates of the 
 capital were open to receive him: it was likewife 
 fuggefted to him , that his prefence was more 
 than ever neceffary , to give energy to their refol- 
 ves, form to their plans , and liability to their 
 undertakings. Arnold took fire at the news; an 
 unufual fwdl of enthufiafm filled his breafl ; and 
 he fancied that , like .Tuiiius Brutus , he was 
 called on once more to give liberty to Rome. — At 
 his appearance a new fiream of vigor animated 
 the citizens ; they called him their friend and 
 their deliverer. The Brefcian walked amongfi: 
 them ? his deportment was humble , his counte- 
 nance emaciated ^ his addrefs affable , and 
 
 I 4 
 
 
 0 0 K 
 
 VI, 
 
B 00 
 VI. 
 
 150 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 he fpoke to them o^ moderation , of fubmiffion, of 
 obedience. — With the nobles and new fcnators he 
 held another I jnouage ; though to them alfohe was 
 mild and diffident , fpeaking much of virtue 
 and of refpecl for religion and the laws”. 
 
 But no fooner was he fenlible of his own 
 real influence , and faw the lengths to which 
 the revolters had already carried their defigns , 
 than he thre^v afide the mafk. , and appeared 
 in his own character, daring, impetuous, felL 
 fufficient, vain. He harangued the people ; he talk- 
 ed of their forefathers , the ancient Romans , 
 who, by the wifdom of their fenate, and the valor 
 of their armies, had conquered nations,’ and fub- 
 dued the earth. He dwelt on the names and the 
 achievements of the Bruti , the Gracchi, and the 
 Scipios ; and of thefe men, faid he, are you not the 
 children? He advifed, that the Capitol be inflantly 
 repaired, that the equeflrian order be reflored, 
 that the people have their tribunes , that dignity 
 attend the fenate , and that the laws , which had 
 been filent and neglefted , be revived in all their 
 vigor. He fpoke of the pope, as of a depofed 
 and baniflied tyrant ; But lliould you again 
 “ be difpofed , continued he , to admit him 
 ‘‘ within thefe walls ; firft fix your own rights , 
 
 and determine his. He is but your biffiop j 
 
 *’ Bern, Ep. 195 , ig 6 . 
 
 « 
 
ABEILLAPvD AND HELOISA. m 
 
 “ let him therefore have his fpiritual jurifdic- 
 tion. The government of Rome , its civil 
 “ ehablifhments , and its territories , belong to 
 ‘‘ you. Thefe you will keep , if you have the 
 “ fpirit of men, and the hearts of Romans’*.” 
 
 Ouin etiam tituloi urbis renovare vetuflos. 
 
 Patricios recreare viros, prifcofque quirites, 
 
 Nomine plebeio fecernere nomen equeftre, 
 
 Jura tribunorum , fatidtum reparare fenatum. 
 
 Et fenio feffas , mutafque reponere leges ; 
 
 Lapfa ruin^fis & adhuc pendentia muris 
 Reddere primasvo Capitolia prifca nitori : 
 
 Suadebat populo» 
 
 Lib. 5» 
 
 Fired by thi^harangue , the people, headed by 
 the moft difaffedted of the nobles , publicly at- 
 tacked the few ^ cardinals and churchmen , who 
 remained in the city ; they fet fire to the pala- 
 ces ; and they compelled the citizens to fwear 
 obedience to the new government. Moderate 
 men who faw the folly of the attempt, were fhoc- 
 ked at thefe exceffes of popular phrenzy ; but it was 
 vain to oppofe the torrent ; they fubmitted , look- 
 ing forward, with fome curiofity, to the ter- 
 mination of an event , which had begun in ex- 
 travagance , and muff end in difappointment* 
 
 O O K 
 VI5 
 
 ’* Oit. F rifing. lib. ii. 
 
122 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Eugenius till now had viewed , with fome con- 
 VI. cern , the wild derangement of his people j but 
 when it feemed , that their eyes opened to their 
 own excelTes , he could be ina61ive no longer. He 
 excommunicated the ringleaders of the fadlioii , 
 and at the head of his troops , who were chiefly 
 eompofed of Tiburtini , a people always hoflile 
 to the Romans , he marched againft the ene- 
 my. His friends , witliin the walls , who were 
 numerous, co-operated with his.defigns, and in 
 a few days overtures for peace were made to 
 the poiitifl. He acceded to tlieni , but on condi- 
 tion, that they fliould annul the arrangements 
 they had made , and if they would have fenators, 
 that they fliould acknowledge all their power was 
 from him. The people were fatitfied , and they 
 threw open the gates, through which Eugenius 
 entered , among the acclamations of a fawning 
 and inconftant multitude. — Before this event 
 Arnold had retired j but he left behind him 
 many friends ftrongly attached to his perfon and 
 principles. ^ 
 
 We hear little more of this enthufiafl , for 
 fuch he was , till the reign of Adrian , our coun- 
 tryman , when , on account of frefli tumults , 
 he and his adherents were excommunicated, and 
 Home was threatened with an interdici , unlefs 
 they expelled the whole party from their walls. 
 
ABEILLAKD AND HELOISA. isS 
 
 Tills they did. The Arnoldihs retired with their 
 champion into Tufcany , where he was received 
 as a prophet , and honored as a faint. His ene- 
 mies 5 however , prevailed : he was made pri- 
 foner , and conducled , under a flrong efcort, 
 to Rome. In vain was great intereft made to 
 fave his life; he was condemned and executed, 
 and his allies thrown into the Tiber , led; the 
 people fliould colledl his remains , and venerate 
 them as the relics of a fainted martyr’’. 
 
 Such was Arnold of Brefcia , a man , whofe 
 charatler , whofe principles , and whofe views, 
 we perhaps fhould be difpofed to admire, had 
 his life been recorded by unprejudiced hifto- 
 rians , and not brought down to us drawn in 
 the blaclteft colors , which party , bigoted zeal, 
 and enthufiafm could lay on. He was rafli , 
 mif-judging , and intemperate , or never would 
 he have engaged in fo unequal a conteft. — The 
 view of fuch a phenomenon in the twelfth cen- 
 tury excites a pleafmg admiration. To attack the 
 Roman pontili an^ his clergy in the very centre 
 of their power , required a more than common 
 Ihare of fortitude ; to adopt a fettled fcheme of 
 reftoring to its prifline glory the republic of 
 Rome , demanded a firetch of thought, com- 
 
 Fleury, vol. xv. 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
124 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK prehenfive and enterpnfmg ; and to forego the 
 VI. eafe and indulgence of a diflipated age , for 
 the reformation of manners and the fuppreffion 
 of what he thought ufurped dominion, argued a 
 charadler of mind , difinterefted , generous , and 
 benevolent But Arnold , like other reformers , 
 went too far ; and pafhon foon vitiated untertakings , 
 which were begun perhaps with motives the molt 
 
 laudable The readinefs , with which the Roman 
 
 people embraced his plan of lowering the jurif- 
 didtion of the pontiff, and retraining it within 
 thofe bounds , which the true fpiiit of chriftianity 
 had fixed, at once fliows, that they could reafon 
 juftly, and that they confidered the unbounded 
 fway of the triple cro^vn , to which reludlantly 
 they fubmitted, as an affumed prerogative, to 
 which violence or mifconftrudlion, and notchriflian 
 Tight, had given efficacy. 
 
 Tanciieim of Tancheliii or Tanchelin was another of thofe 
 
 Aiuvverp. extraordinary apoftles, who, about this period, 
 attracted very general notice. He alfo was a man , 
 as his hiflorians reprefent hin>, who , under the 
 impofmg air of aufterity and mortification , of 
 ubflemionfiiefs from pleafure and an animated zeal 
 againfl the vices of churchmen, gained a wondrous 
 afcendency over the minds of the people. He 
 opened his miffion therefore by preaching againfl 
 the diforders of the age. He was artful and 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. iq5 
 
 infinuating, and though a laic, polTeffed knowledge, 
 and a flow of eloquence whidi was rapid and 
 
 impofing Antwerp was then a great and flourlfli- 
 
 ing city; but its vices were exuberant, and the 
 torrent had fpread itfelf into the adjacent countries. 
 Here Tanchelni preached. He inveighed againfl 
 the exceffes of the great and opulent. The people 
 liftened with wonder. He courted their attention, 
 and flattered their humor. He could then pro- 
 ceed to greater lengths: they were ignorant, he 
 found , and uninftrudled , and were therefore 
 difpofed to take whatever doHrines , he fliould lay 
 before them. He talked of the pope , of bifliops, 
 and of the clergy , as of men , who had intruded 
 themfelves into the miniftiy of religion, to enjoy 
 their eafe, and to cajole the people : the facraments 
 he reprefented as profane and ufelefs ceremonies , 
 and the fupper of our Lord as of no avail to 
 falvation ; and in himfelf and in in his followers, 
 he concluded , dwelt the whole fpiric of the 
 church. 
 
 It was now time to make a more fplendid figure: 
 hitherto, his appearance had been lowly, and his 
 difcourfe modeft. He decorated his cloths with 
 gold, and his hair with jewels, and furrounded 
 by a guard of three thoufand men, he advanced 
 among their acclamations, preceded by a ftandard 
 and a naked fword. Thus efcorted he preached 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VI. 
 
coo 
 
 VI. 
 
 126 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 in the open fields , and his words were received 
 as oracles from heaven . nor conld they be 
 withflood; carnage and devaftation marked his 
 progrefs wherever oppofition was made to liis 
 defigns — I fpeak not of the abominations , he is 
 faid, to have committed, nor of the atrocious 
 diforders whicli his principles , are alfo faid , to 
 liave recommended and fandtified. The enemies, 
 of orthodoxy have often been charged with crimes, 
 which to have committed coolly and fyflematically, 
 feems not to have come within the fphere of 
 human depravity. It is more probable , becaufe 
 more poffible , that their adverfaries , though 
 good and welbintentioned men, defamed their 
 conduH , and mif- judged their principles. In 
 the clafli of two opinions the moft probable mufl 
 be chofen. 
 
 Emboldened by fuccefs, Tanchelm raifed his 
 views to higher honors. He dared to tell the 
 people that he was God. “*.Tefus Ghrifl, faid 
 “ he, took divinity to himfelf, becaufe the 
 “ plenitude of the lioly Spirit came upon him 5 
 
 I have received the fame fpirit , therefore 
 “ am I equal to him. ” The people believed 
 him, and fell proflrate at his feet. — To enhance 
 the glory of his divinity, he entertained magni 
 hcentiy the crowds, which followed him; and 
 joy, merriment, and pleafure gave a zeft to 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 
 
 12 ? 
 
 religion , which it had not known before. They 
 who could approach his perfon , felt a glow of 
 infpiration in their breafls; the ground on which 
 he had trodden was deemed hcly^ and the 
 water , in which he had bathed , they pre-^ 
 ferved as a relic of ineftimable value : it fup- 
 ported health , and ' expelled the mofl inveterate 
 diforders. 
 
 Eo defray his expenfes , which were great, 
 Tanchelm had recourfe to every device; but 
 tlie liberality of his friends began to flacken. 
 His invention, however, was not exhauffed. He 
 ordered a large flatue of the Virgin Mary to 
 be brought out among the people: Tanchelra 
 then advanced up to it ; he touched her hand , 
 and pronounced the words which are ufed at 
 the marriage ceremony. You fee, faid he, 
 “ what I have done ; 1 have married this virgin ; 
 “ it is now your duty to make the cuflomary 
 “ prefents. ” — Two boxes were then placed, 
 one for the men, the other for the women, 
 
 on each fide of the image Now iliall we 
 
 “ difcover, continued he, which of you entertain 
 “ the fmcerefl regard for me and my wife. 
 
 It was a conteff of love and benevolence; but 
 the women feemed to carry it ; they tore the 
 ornaments from their heads , the collars from, 
 their necks , and the rings from their ears. 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
iq8 history of the LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK When tlie impoftor, by fuch uncommon arts, 
 VI. had fpread his influence and opinions over many 
 provinces of Flanders , he meditated greater con- 
 quefls. It is faid, that he thought of going to 
 Rome itfelf, tliere to oppofe his divinity againfi; 
 the mighty power of the pontiff. But as , one day, 
 he was entering into a boat, which was to carry 
 him on fome religious expedition, a good prieft 
 aimed a blow at his head, which put a final period 
 to all his greatnefs. His opinions, however, furvived 
 him , and his difciples , in fpite of oppofition , 
 multiplied and maintained their tenets. Againft 
 them , Norbert of Premontre , of whom already I 
 have fpoken, was fent, and he fuccefsfully performed 
 his commiflion , by preaching , by miracles , and 
 by a difplay of the moft exalted virtues 
 
 To account for the extreme animofity with 
 which thefe , and other fedaries of the age , were 
 adluated againfi; the minifiers of the church, certain 
 circumfiances mufi be duly confidered. It is 
 not without a caufe that violent palTions are 
 excited. France , about a century before , had 
 been inundated by various feds , which went 
 under the common denomination of Manicheans. 
 ,They were treated with unexampled feverity , 
 and many had been burned in the different pro- 
 vinces of the kingdom. Perfecution made them 
 * more circumfped , but it alfo inflamed their hatred 
 
 ^‘Fieury, voU xiv. Nat. Alex. 
 
 againft 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. xag 
 
 againft the clergy , who had been the principal BOOK 
 agents in their oppreffion , and whofe zeal had VI. 
 unflieathed the magiflrate’s fword againll them. 
 
 From the allies of the dead , as it ever happens , 
 rofe a vindiclive race , on whofe minds grew the 
 ! early imprefFion that they mufl revenge their 
 own, and their fathers caufe. It was hence their 
 I leading object to infult and vilify the priefihood, 
 and whatever was of a nature to give them refpe6f 
 and conhderation 5 in the eyes of the people, that 
 they attacked with peculiar virulence; fuch was the 
 i adminiflration of the facraments and their efficacy, 
 
 ' the ceremonies of the church , prayers for the 
 living and the dead, the order of priefihood, the 
 Lord’s fupper , and the authority of the firfl 
 pallors of the church. 
 
 The diforders and ignorjmee of the clergy were^ 
 befides , extreme ; This has been already obferved , 
 the oftices in the church were venal ; the facraments 
 were adminiftered by men , whom fimony had 
 corrupted , and concubinage debafed ; and the 
 momentous truths of religion and morality were 
 funk in idle ceremony and vile fuperflition. — This 
 is the dark fide of the objed.— Governed by fudi 
 rulers, the people were ignorant, were brutal, 
 were head -ftrong ; nor could they have refpedl for 
 thofe, to fupport whofe exceffes they contributed 
 * much of their fubftance , and from whom , in 
 
 VoL. IT. 
 
i 3 o HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK return , they received imperious words and 
 VL unfeeling treatment. They Avould be ready to 
 rebel , and to pull down thefe proud and ui'elefs 
 mimfters. A head only was \vantirig 5 and lie 
 wlio had courage , liad feme learning , was elo- 
 quent y and had addreFs to mana^ro the wayward 
 paffions of the multitude , might lead them to the 
 wildefl meafures , and become their friend , their 
 mafter , their general , and their prophet ‘h Such 
 were Arnold of Brefcia and Tanchelm , and fuch 
 was Henry de bruys j in nothing inferior to 
 either. 
 
 Henry de Henry was in France , -^vhat his contemporaries, 
 whom I have deferibed , were in Italy and in 
 Flanders ; he was the difciple of Peter de Bruys , 
 who had lliown him the way, and had taught 
 him the maxims , which he himfelf had pra^ifed, 
 fealed with his blood. The errors of Peter 
 were , that infant baptifm was ufelefs , becaufe it 
 was neceffary they lliould malce an of faith , 
 and receive inflrudions _ that churches , altars , 
 and all material buildings , difgraced the fervice 
 of God, and fliould be deflroyed — that the crofs 
 ^vas an implement of iuperflition , and fliould be 
 broken and trodden under foot— that the facii- 
 fice of die mafs was an idle ceremony, and ought 
 not to be celebrated — and tliat alms, prayers , or 
 
 Did. dcs Herefies, p, 484. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i3i 
 
 other good works y offered for the de^d j availed 
 them nothing. 
 
 Peter was violent and head-ftrong, and thefe 
 doctrines j which he might have propagated by 
 gentle means, he would foice on his countrymen 
 by outrages and bloodllied. The fouthern pro- 
 vinces of France were the theatre of his exceffes. 
 He re-baptized the people, pillaged the churches, 
 overturned the altars , burned the croffes , tortured 
 the minifters , and forced the monks by threats 
 and blows , to take wives , or to periHi in dun- 
 geons. — So relates Peter the venerable , the man 
 of benevolence and moderation , from what his 
 own eyes had witneffed j and he it was , who 
 principally oppofed himfelf to the progrefs of the 
 proud reformer’*. — - Peter was at laft feized by 
 the irritated people , before whom , on Good- 
 Friday , he had lighted up a large bonfire of 
 croffes , and having broiled fome meat before it , 
 invited the fpeTators to partake of his meal ; they 
 threw him into the flames , and he was confumed. 
 
 His friend Henry was warned by the example; 
 He had adopted all the opinions of his mailer , 
 and had added to them of his own : of thefe 
 the principal were, that fpiritual fongs are an 
 infuit to the Deity , that he only delights in 
 pious affeaions, that he i.s not invoked by 
 
 K s 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
 ** Pet. Cluniae. Ep. 
 
i3a HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 VI. 
 
 loud vociferation , nor foothed by the harmony 
 of mufic — . The idea was gloomy ; it had little 
 
 elfe in it that was cenfurable. — The violence 
 with which Peter had enforced his dodliine, 
 feemed not to agree with the difpofitions of 
 Henry ; he therefore adopted another method , 
 which was that of infinuation and perfuafive 
 eloquence. 
 
 The defcription given of his perfoii and way 
 of life , by a contemporary writer , when he was 
 young, andfirft appeared in the diocefe of Mans, 
 is not incurious. “ About this time, fays he, came 
 “ from the neighbouring provinces a certain 
 « hypocrite , whofe adiions , morals , opinions , 
 “ rendered defervi ng of the fevered; punifliments. 
 “ He was young, but be wore his hair fliort, and 
 ‘‘ his beard unfliorn ; he was tall in flature , moved 
 quick, and his feet, in the rigor of winter, 
 were naked ; his countenance and eyes were 
 “ agitated as the raging fea ; he fpoke rapidly , and 
 “ his voice was loud as the howling billows. In 
 “ his drefs he was negligent and filthy, nor did 
 he live like other men ; he frequented , for his 
 meals , the houfes of the meanefl citizens ; chofe 
 •* for his abode, during the day, the porches of 
 « his friends habitations, and flept in the mod 
 
 it 
 
 Pet. Ciuniac, Ep. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i5S 
 
 expofed and inclement places. But he foon BOOK 
 ” acquired tlie reputation of a faint : the ladies > VI* 
 
 ” in particular , extolled his virtues ; they faid , 
 
 “ he had the fpirit of a prophet , that he could 
 « read the interior of their minds, and tell their 
 ® fecret fins ” And well he might , if it be 
 true , what the hime author relates of his familiar 
 converfation rvith them. 
 
 In this diocefe , fo great was the fame of his 
 virtues , Henry obtained permiihon to preach to 
 the people. Thev flocked to him , and the 
 clergy even exhorted them to it. He mounted 
 the tribunal , which had been prepared for him j 
 his voice founded like the thunder from heaven; 
 and they drank down his words with ravifliment. 
 
 Soon was the multitude convinced that he was a 
 man divinely fent ; and when Henry perceived 
 the impreihon , he feized the moment , and laid 
 before them his own favorite opinions. But his 
 main drift was to infdl into their minds an 
 averfion for their minifters , and to roufe them 
 more to a£ls of violence and fury. The event 
 more than- anfwered his mod; fanguine willies, andl 
 the clergy were foon fenfible how miferably they 
 had been deluded- 
 
 ** Chronic. Cenoman. in Nat. Alex. 
 
 K 3 
 
i34 history of THE LIVES OF 
 
 The people came from his difcourfes, dillurbecl 
 in their belief, and drunk with enthufiafm. They 
 attacked their priefts , and infulted the clergy , 
 refufing to fell even the common neceffaries to 
 their domeftics: they threatened to deflroy their 
 houfes , to pillage tlieir goods ; and from menaces 
 would have proceeded to every aft of violence , 
 had not the count of Mans , and the principal 
 nobility , oppofed the outrageous current of their 
 plirenzy. 
 
 In the mean time, Hildebert, the billiop, who 
 had been abfent, returned from Rome. He was 
 aftonifhed at the change in his flock ; for , inflead 
 of the refpeft, which ever before he had expe- 
 rienced from them, they infultingly ref ufed his 
 blefhng, fliouted the name of Henry in his ears, 
 threw dirt at the clergy who accompanied him., 
 and abufed them in the moft petulant and oppro- 
 brious language. But Hildebert was a cool and 
 experienced man , and by gentle means fo far 
 opened the eyes of his people, that Henry thought 
 proper to withdraw, and to look for new friends, 
 in the provinces of Languedoc and Provence , 
 where Peter Iiad made fo rich a harvelt. 
 
 Eugenius of Rome, of whom I have fpoken, 
 WRS not flow in fending a proper force againft 
 him. Bernard entered the lids, but the crafty 
 impoftor declined the contefl. He retired ; 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i35 
 
 fearch was made , and he was taken. We 
 hear no more cf him , only tliat he was 
 delivered to the bifliop of Tbiiloufe , who threw 
 him into prifon , where probably he died**. 
 
 It is in fudi men as thcfe , and in their opi- 
 nions , that proteflant writers have looked for 
 that chain of tradition , by which the dodrine 
 they profefs 5 may have been brought down to 
 them **. It may be fo ; but providence , it 
 feems , muft Iiave chofen extraordinary vehicles 
 for the conveyance of his mofl important do- 
 cuments to man. I am , however , very ready 
 to believe , as I have before noticed , that much 
 of the accounts , which are recorded of them 
 is extremely fallacious and over-charged. But 
 wliere may we look for other fources of informa- 
 tion , out of which to form a more prudent 
 judgment , and whereby the ^vritings of their 
 contemporaries , a Bernard and a Peter the 
 venerable , may be corrcded and reformed ? 
 To the reader alfo the refledion muil ever 
 recur , that , as the opinions whicli tliefe men 
 fupported , were uniformly and Readily op- 
 pofed 5 as foon as they were made public ^ 
 there mufh have been 'novelty , at leafl , in 
 them , and confequently that they were not 
 parts of that ancient and authentic dodrine , 
 
 ** FIcury, vol. xiv. ** BsEage , Ilifl. des Egl. Ref. 
 
 K 4 
 
 O O K 
 VI. 
 
i36 
 
 HISTORY, See. 
 
 BOOK on which time and anthority had Ramped tlieir 
 VI, venerable feal. 
 
 Other men there were , about this period, 
 whofe characters were almoR as defervin^ of 
 notice , as thefe I have mentioned ; but enough 
 has been faid to anfwer the objeCl I have in 
 view , and Abeillard , of whom I muR foon take 
 my laR farewel , again calls me to Cluni. 
 
 END OF THE SIXTH BOOK» 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ABEILLARD and HELOISA. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 Abeillard writes two apologies — His life at Cliini-— 
 He falls f cl — And dies at St. Marcellus — His 
 
 charaCier The abbot of Cluni writes an account 
 
 of his death to Heloifa — She requefs his body) 
 and obtains it — Writes to Peter the venerable— 
 His ajfwer — Innocent II. — Eugenius III. — 
 Adrian IV.— State of England— State of France — 
 The fecond crufade — Heath and charaSler of 
 Suger — . of Bernard — of Peter the venerable — 
 Heloifa — Her death. 
 
 Anno, 11411. 
 
 X F the reader be not a whimfical man , and 
 therefore fond of exotic characters , he will leave, 
 without regret , the new company , to which I had 
 introduced him, and rejoice once more to meet 
 Abeillard and his venerable friend.. 
 
 O 0 E 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 i3S 
 
 Book Having confented to remain at Cluni, could per- 
 Vir. mifiion be obtained from Rome, Abeillard, refipued 
 He writes tv/o to the will of lieaveii , compofed his agitated 
 apologies. thoughts, and fought for comfort in the occupations 
 of prayer and ftudy, to which the genius of the 
 place and his own propenfions called him. Peter 
 Maurice was much pleafed by the calm refignation 
 of his guefl, and he let pafs no occafiori of 
 giving it flability by every means in his power. 
 He fuggefled various expedients for filling up the 
 irkfome moments of fufpenfe, till his melfenger 
 fliould return, and one day propofed to him the 
 propriety of writing an apology, or a profelhon 
 of his real opinions , \vhich might be given to the 
 world. “-Your fentiments , faid he, have been 
 “ miflaken or mifreprefented ; you know the charges 
 ‘‘ that are againft you j flate then your belief , in 
 “ terms, clear, precife, and unequivocal. It will 
 “ filence your enemies, and give joy to your 
 friends. Befides, do not your own honor, and 
 “ the love of truth, exad it from you ? '—Abeillard 
 faw the propriety of the meafure , and thanked 
 Ills kind advifer. His mind had long been a 
 flranger to the voice of friendhiip , and it now fell, 
 foothing as the dew from heaven upon a parched 
 foil. 
 
 The opening of his apology is fubmilfive , but 
 manly, and Ihows how little he deferved the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i3g 
 
 harili treatment, he had experienced. It is addreffed 
 
 to the univerfal church “ The obfervation, 
 
 “ fays he , is well kno^vn , that the mofl accurate 
 “ expreffions can be eafily perverted, and that he 
 “ who writes much only adds to the number of 
 his iudcres. But I who have written little , and 
 
 J CD 
 
 in comparifon of many others , almoh nothing ^ 
 ‘‘ have not efcaped cenfurej though where I am 
 « molt heavily charged, God knows, I am not 
 “ confcious of any fault j nor, were there any, 
 would I defend it with obltinacy. Inadvertently 
 « I may liave written what fhould not have been 
 faid j but heaven is my witnefs , and I appeal 
 “ to it , that I have uttered nothing from malice , 
 ‘‘ nothing from pride of heart. In the fchools I 
 « often fpoke to thoufands , but it was not furrep- 
 “ titiouflyj what I thought might tend to the 
 « elucidation of truth and the progrefs of morality, 
 “ that I publicly delivered; and what I have 
 « written, that I freely laid before the public, 
 “ not to make profelytes to my opinions, but 
 “ that they might judge them. If I have exceeded 
 “ in difcourfe , tvhich may have happened , ever 
 “ have I been difpofed to amend or to retradl 
 “ my exprelTions : and in this refolution I will abide 
 « to the end. How then can I be deemed a heretic? 
 “ —But as it is my duty to correT my errors, if 
 « any there be; fo will it become me to repel 
 « fiich, as have been fallly imputed to me. 
 
 O O K 
 yii. 
 
140 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK know that purpofely, we Ihould not roufe the 
 Vii. ** tongues of the malevolent againft us , and when 
 by their own malice they are in motion , we 
 Ihould bear it patiently ; fometimes however we 
 may be allowed to filence them, lefl, by their 
 ‘‘ evil reports , they corrupt the minds of thofe , 
 ‘‘ who might draw good from our infli’U(Slions. — 
 “ Be convinced then , my brethren that I , an un- 
 “ worthy fon as I am of the church, do believe 
 all tliat hie believes, do rejed all that flie rejedls^ 
 The unity of faith I have never violated , though 
 ill conduct, I know, I am the kiil of her 
 “ children ” 
 
 He then proceeds to an explicit declaration 
 of his faith, on I'uch points as had been cenfuredj 
 than which nothing can be more orthodox , 
 wnether it be tried by the teff of modern belief 
 in the catholic church , or by the more ancient 
 
 creeds of the primitive ages Peter approved much 
 
 of his apology , and it was foon difperfed among the 
 churches of f'rance. 
 
 While the abbot of St. Gildas was engaged in 
 this laudable work, he beared that Heloifa and 
 her nuns at the Paraclet were much alarmed at 
 what had hanpened. The dangers in which he 
 was involved, diflreffed them ; and befides, a thou- 
 fand anxious thoughts diflurbed their minds. It 
 was natural, when they beared of the condemnation 
 of his opinions at Sens , and read the fentence of the 
 * Qp. Abeil. p. 5 3 0, 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i^x 
 
 Koman court agalnfl him, that they fiiould tremble 
 for themfelves. If their mafler was a heretic 5 how 
 could they be orthodox, who had taken all their 
 opinions from him, and who venerated him as 
 the oracle of truth P His fermons were read in their 
 church , and his otlier works were feldom out of 
 their hands — Abeillard felt for their fituation , and 
 willied to relieve it. The apology he had juft xvrit^ 
 ten would well anfwer the purpofe, but he was difpo-. 
 fed to do it by a more perfonal addrefs. He there- 
 fore wrote to Heloifa. 
 
 “ It is the ftudy of philofophy , fays he to her, 
 which has prejudiced the world againft me. My 
 enemies allow that, in this fcience, I am excel- 
 “ lent, but that I know little of the doiftrine of 
 “ Paul. They commend the acutenefs of my 
 “ talents , and take from me the purity of a chriftian 
 V believer. They are led away rather by furmife, 
 « than by any experience of my opinions. I have 
 “ no ambition to be a philofopher in oppofition 
 “ to Paul, or to poftpone Chrift to Ariftotle. It 
 “ IS under his name only that I can be faved, 
 Wherefore, that all fearful folicitude and anxious 
 “ cares may be expelled from your breaft, be 
 “ affured , Heloifa , that my confcience refts upon 
 « that rock, on which Chrift built his church.”-. 
 He then fpecifies the articles of his belief, and 
 concludes : “ This 13 the faith in which I ftand , 
 and here I fix the anchor gf my hope : thus 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VI r* 
 
BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 His Hfc 
 Cluni. 
 
 14a HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 K ftrengtliened , I do not fear tlie liowlings of 
 “ Scilla ; I laugh at the gulph of Carybdis ; and 
 “ the fatal fongs of the Sirens charm me not. 
 
 If the tempeft roar , I am not lliaken , nor 
 “ do the blowing winds move me. My feet reft 
 “ upon this folid rockh” 
 
 The meffenger now returned with the agree- 
 able tidings , that the pope was fatisfied with 
 the favorable accounts he had received of the 
 difpofitions of Abeillard , that he fufpended the 
 fentence which had been pronounced againfl him, 
 and that , conformably to his retjuefl , he was 
 permitted to end his days in the monaflery of 
 Quni. 
 
 The calm flillnefs , which , at evening , often 
 fucceeds to a tempeftuous day , may very aptly 
 reprefent the prefent ftite of the mind of Abeil- 
 lard. All was hullied within him , the moment 
 Peter , taking him by the hand , fignified to 
 him the will of Rome. _ Abeillard then begged 
 the good man’s blelTing , and wliile on his knees , 
 humbly requcfled, as he was now his fubjed, 
 that he would lay his commands on him ; that 
 the only willi he had, was to retire from the 
 world , to make his peace with heaven , and to be 
 beared of no more. Peter raifed him from the 
 ground : I have no commands, faid he , to 
 
 give you : you are free to indulge your own 
 
 * Op. Abeil. p. 308. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 143 
 
 purfuitsj and as to the rule of Cluni, by which 
 “ our hours and condud are regulated, it fliall 
 “ be no farther binding on you, than as it may 
 fuit with your inclinations. Be liappy only, and 
 rehgned to your ftation. ” — Abeillard infilled , 
 that he lliould be conhdered as a private religious 
 man, and that no diftin(d;ion or indulgence Ihould 
 be hiown him. — To this the abbot would by no 
 means confent, and he gave his orders that, after 
 himfelf, he fliould occupy the firfl place in the 
 monaflery \ 
 
 Very few words will now defcribe the life of 
 Abeillard. The uniformity of the cloiBered 
 fituation admits of no variety, and the occupations 
 of one day are the occupations of life. Refigned he 
 was : he was humble , retired , taciturn , Jtudioiis, 
 and devout. The molt perfect admired his greater 
 perfection , and the indolent were animated by the 
 view of his fplendid virtues. Peter Maurice , who 
 was an eye-witnefs to his conduCl, has delineated, 
 with much complacency , the behaviour of his 
 friend and this I will give. It is contained in a letter 
 to Heloifa. 
 
 “ It was the fuperintending providence of 
 “ heaven which fent him to Cluni, in the laft 
 “ years of his life. The prefent was the ricliell 
 “ which could have been made us. Words \vill 
 not eafily cxprefs the high teftimony , which 
 
 * Pet. Cluniae. Ep. ad Helois. p. 317. 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
BOO 
 
 VIL 
 
 144 HISTORY OF THE LIVIES OF 
 
 Cluni beiirs to his humble and religious deport- 
 “ ment within thcfe walls. Never did I behold 
 « abjedlion fo lowly , or abftemioufners fo ex- 
 eraplary. By my exprefs defire , he held the 
 “ firft place in our numerous community , but in 
 his drefs he feemed the laft of us all. When m 
 “ our public proceffions I faw him walking near 
 me , recolle<ded and humble , my mind was 
 « hruck: fo great a man, thought I , by felf- 
 « abafeinent ,"is thus voluntarily brought low ! 
 
 “ Contrary to the pra^lice of many , who call 
 « themfelves religious men, Abeillard feemed to 
 « take delight in penury ; and the mod fimple and 
 unadorned habit pleafed him mod. He looked 
 4^ no further. In his diet, and in all that regarded 
 « the care of his body , he was equally referved 
 « and abdemious. More than what was abfolutely 
 « neceffary he never fought for himfelf, and he 
 condemned it in others. His reading was almod 
 inceffant ; he often prayed ; and he never inter- 
 “ rupted his filence , unlefs when, urged by the 
 “ intreaties of the monks , he lometimes converfed 
 « with them, or in public harangues explained to 
 « them the great maxims of religion. When able, 
 « he celebrated the facred myderies , offering to 
 « God the facrifice of the immortal lamb ; and after 
 Ids reconciliation to the apodolic fee , almod dail^ . 
 “ In a word his mind, his tongue, his hand, were 
 ® ever employed in the duties of r elij^ion , or 
 
 developing 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 145 
 
 “ developing the truths of philofophy, or in the 
 “ profound refearches of literature *. 
 
 This furely is the defcription of a perfect man, 
 dra\vn by the hand of one of the moft amiable 
 and beneficent characters , recorded in the annals 
 of monaflic hiftory. Peter had long been medi- 
 tating a reform of the many abufes which, during 
 the adminiftration of Pontius , his predeceifor , 
 particularly , had crept into his order : he wiflied 
 to reftore it to its ancient fplendor. But alfo, 
 as every thing that is human feems to contain 
 within itfelf the principles of its own deftruClion, 
 Cluni , which had now fubfifled more than two 
 hundred years, was in its natural decline ; and this 
 was accelerated by its vaft wealth and unbounded 
 reputation. Its growth had been rapid and unu- 
 fual, and it fell in a fimilar proportion. The 
 great man in vain oppofed this neceffary effeCl, 
 and with joy he availed himfelf of the example, 
 the learning , and the influence of Abeillard. They 
 could apply temporary relief to tlie evil ; and 
 Peter , a few years after, introduced a very ferious 
 fyftem of reform. He died , and with him expired 
 the glory of Cluni. 
 
 In the exercife of the virtues , I have recorded, 
 Abeillard had fpent fome months , and perhaps 
 they were the happieft of his life. The monks were 
 
 * Pet. Cluniac. Ep. ad Helois. p. 5 J 7. 
 
 VoL. II. 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
146 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book very defirous that he would be more liberal of 
 VII. his inftructions to them, and the abbot (who faw 
 with pleafure that a tafte for literature was revi- 
 ving in Iris convent, which he could but afcribe 
 to the example of Abeillard), was very preffing 
 that he Ihould comply with their willies. Abeillard 
 could refufe nothing to his hind benefa 61 or ; but 
 he felt a fecret relu£lance , which no effort could 
 furmount , in again entering on the bufmefs of 
 inffrudion , which had often proved fo difaflrous 
 to his happmefs. The calm, which he now enjoyed, 
 might only portend another ftorm. There was 
 likewife another caufe which aided to generate 
 this diftafle for public employment, of which at 
 hrft he was hardly fenfible. His conftitution had 
 always been delicate , and care , preying upon his 
 tender fibres, had increafed the evil. When he 
 came to Cluni , as Peter obferved in his letter to 
 Rome, his health was very precarious , and it did 
 not feem that he had many more years to number. 
 The agitation fubfiding , which had given motion 
 to his heart , a languor enfued , and he began to 
 fufpe6l that a period would foon be put to all 
 his labors. With compofure he viewed the event, 
 but It gave a difrelilh for every a6live purfuit , by 
 which his neighbour indeed might have been fer- 
 ved , and his own mind would have been difturbed 
 in that awful meditation, which prepares us beft 
 for another world, 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 147 
 
 He was willing, however, to get the better of book 
 his relu£lance ; to make fome return for all the vil. 
 kiiidnels he experienced , and to comjdy with He fails fick. 
 the intreities of his friends , which he could op- 
 pofe no longer. He fometimes, therefore, appeared 
 in the public fchool of the convent, and ei«tered 
 on fuch difcuffions as he thought would be mod 
 agreeable to his hearers. Their applaufe was as 
 unbounded, as it .was fincere, and, for a moment, 
 it revived in him that animation of ideas and of 
 eloquence , which was his peculiar excellence. 
 
 Thefe exertions did but injure his health ; his 
 color was feen to come and go , and a tremulous 
 faltering in his voice foon indicated that the internal 
 frame was giving way. Other fymptoms iikewife 
 Ihowed themfelves , and a fcorbutic humor , to 
 which he had long been fubje6l, broke out with 
 violence on many parts of his body k — The 
 monks were alarmed ; but no one fo much as the 
 good abbot , who now loved him as a friend, 
 and who feared that Cluni would foon be de- 
 prived of fo eminent a pattern of monaftic virtues. 
 
 He redoubled his attention to him , he expoftu- 
 lated gently with him on the too little care he 
 feemed to take of his health ; he infilled that he 
 fhould defift from every firong exertion ; that 
 he fhould give lefs time to ftudy and refle^lion ; 
 
 * Pet. Cluniae. Ep. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 And dies at 
 St. Marcellus. 
 
 that he fliould conform to none of the duties 
 of the convent ; but that by gentle exercife , 
 repofe , and every affiftance which medicine could 
 fupply , he would endeavour to regain ftrength , 
 and ward off the blow which tlneatened him. 
 Abeillard fubmitted ; but all attempts to relieve 
 him proved fuccefslefs j his malady grew daily 
 more inveterate, and it was judged proper to try 
 the effe6l of another air. 
 
 At Chalons on the river Saone, not far from 
 Cluni , hood the priory of St. M rcellus. It was 
 beautifully fituated at a little diftance from the 
 town, the neighbouring country was delightful,- 
 and its air was thought to be the moft pure in 
 Burgundy. It is the defcription which Peter him- 
 felf gives of it. The priory depended on the abbey 
 of Cluni. When it feemed advifeable that Abeillard 
 Ihould try the effeci of air, none was judged fo 
 proper as that of St. Marcellus; and Peter, with 
 his ufual kindnefs , propofed it to him. Abeillard 
 was not difpofed to move; ficknefs, confpiring 
 with the recolle^lion of former troubles , had 
 ferved hill more to infpire a diftafte of life, and 
 he did not wifli to leave Cluni , which probably 
 he Ihould never fee again , and where , amongft 
 the fympatizing cares of his friends, he might clofe 
 his eyes in peace. This unwilhngnefs he expreffed 
 to the abbot , and he dwelt upon it with unufual 
 ^arneftnefs. Peter, however, could not recede from 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 149 
 
 the point ; for he judged tliat a life , which every 
 day’s experience rendered of more confequence 
 to his convent , fliould be guarded by every 
 poffible attention. He, therefore, perfifled in his 
 defign, and Abeillard, relu^fantly obedient, taking 
 leave of his friends, was conveyed to St. Marcellus. 
 Often did he turn his eyes towards that noble 
 manfion, where he had found proteftion in diftrefs, 
 and where , to his experience at leaft , religion , 
 learning , virtue , and Peter the venerable dwelt. 
 
 “ Thus (continues the abbot of Cluni in his 
 “ narration to Heloifa ) this good and fimple man, 
 “ having fpent fome time with us , avoiding evil 
 “ and fearing God; was, by my exprefs defire, 
 fent to Chalons. The fcurvy , and other infir- 
 “ mities, had become daily more violent. I thought 
 the fituation might agree with him , for it is 
 healthy, and more beautifully pleafant, than moft 
 “ parts of Burgundy : its fite is near the town, 
 “ but on the other fide of the river , which waflies 
 “ with its ftream the verdant banks of the priory *. 
 
 But it did not feem that this genial air of St. Mar- 
 cellus , that its flowery lawns , and filver ftream , 
 could reftore vigor to the expiring life of Abeillard. 
 On the contrary he gi'ew worfe , and perhaps 
 what was meant to relieve him , only accelerated 
 his end. Senfible then that all human means could 
 not avert the blow, he cheerfully fubmittedto it, 
 
 * Pet. Cluniae. Ep. 
 
 L 3 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
i5o HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK and prepared to meet his fate with the cool com- 
 Vllt pofure of a chriflian philofopher. He reiumed , 
 as well as he was able, the courfe of life he had 
 pra61ifed at Cluni: he fludied , prayed , and me- 
 ditated. Even he did more, dhe confraternity of 
 St Marcellus begged that they alfo might partake 
 of his iiihnidlions , and he made an effort to fatisfy 
 their requeff. He wrote fome difcourfes for them j 
 and when his hand could obey no longer , he 
 dictated what remained, in a feeble voice, to the 
 monks who fat attentive round him ^ . 
 
 “ Occupied in thefe exercifes , concludes Peter, 
 the vifiter of the gofpel found him, not afleep, 
 but watching. He found him truly watching , 
 and he called him , with the wife virgins , to 
 ‘‘ the banquet of eternal blifs. He had his lamp 
 “ full of oil , that is , a confcience replete with the 
 works of a holy life. — The virulence of his 
 diforder increaffng, in a few days, he was brought 
 to that goal , towards which all the generations 
 of men are haftening. With what fentiments of 
 « devotion he then firft declared his faith, and 
 « afterwards made the confeffion of his fins ; with 
 what ardent affe(ffion he received the body of his 
 redeemer , which was to carry him to eternal 
 reft ; and how earneftly he commended both 
 foul and body , here and for ever , into the 
 
 Pet. Cluniac. Ep» » 
 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i5i 
 
 « hands of his maker , many holy men can ^ q q 
 « witnefs , and with them the whole convent of 
 ‘‘ St. Marcellus *. ” 
 
 Abeillard died in his fixty-third year , on the 
 twenty-fird: of April, in the year 114a. 
 
 The reader who has feen the detached parts of HU charafter. 
 Abeillard’s charafter , may with eafe colle( 5 d the 
 fcattered members., and view at once the general 
 
 portrait He was born with uncommon abilities, 
 
 and in a better age, had they been direded to other 
 purpofes , their difplay might have given more 
 folid glory to their pofleffor, and more real advan^ 
 tage to mankind. But he was to take the world 
 as he found it, for he could not corted its vicious 
 tafte , nor indeed did he attempt it On the con- 
 trary the vicious tafte of the age feemed to accord 
 with the mofl prominent features of his mind. He 
 loved controverfy , was pleafed with the found 
 of his own voice , and, in his moft favorite 
 refearches , rather looked for quibbles and evafive 
 fophiflry, than for truth and the convidion of 
 reafon. He was a difputatious logician therefore, 
 and in this confifted all his philofophy. — His 
 divinity was much of the fame complexion. 
 
 When we confider him as a writer , not much 
 more can be added to his praife. He is obfcure , 
 labored, and inelegant, nor do I difcover any 
 
 L 4 
 
 Pet. Cluniae. Ep* 
 
152 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK traces of that genius and vivid energy of foul , 
 VII. which he certainly pofleffed, and which rendered 
 him fo formidable in the frhools of philofophy. 
 Even when he defcribes his own misfortunes , and 
 is the hero of his own tale, the ftory is languid, 
 and it labors on through a tedious and digreifive 
 narration of incidents. In his theological trails he 
 is more jejune, and in his letters, he has not the 
 elegance, nor the harmony , nor the foul of 
 Heloifa. Therefore, did we not know , how much 
 his abilities were extolled by his contemporaries, 
 what encomiums they gave to his pen , and how 
 much the proudeft difputants of the age feared 
 the fire of his tongue , we certainly lliould be 
 inclined to fay, perufing his works , that Abeillard 
 was not an uncommon man. 
 
 Nor was he uncommon in his moral charader. 
 He had not to thank nature for any great degree 
 of fenfibility , that fource of pain and of pleafure, 
 of virtue and of vice. Thrown , from early youth, 
 into habits , which could not meliorate his difpo- 
 lifions , he became felfilh , opiniative , and vain- 
 glorious. What did not ferve to gratify his own 
 humor , called for little of his regard. He wiflied 
 to appear above the common feelings of humanity, 
 for his philofophy was not of a nature to make 
 him the friend of man. Of religion he knew little 
 more than the fplendid theory; and its amiable 
 precepts were too obvious and familiar to engage 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i53 
 
 the attention , and modify the heart, of an ahftrufe 
 and fpeculative reafoner — When he loved Heloifa, 
 it w is not her perfon , nor her charms , nor her 
 abilities , nor her virtues , which he loved ; he 
 fought only his own gratification , and in its pur- 
 fiiit , no repnlfion of innocence could thwart him, 
 no voice of duty , of frlendfhip , of unguarded 
 confidence, could impede his headlong progrefs. 
 He fuffered ; and from that moment rather he 
 became a man. We may blame him perhaps , 
 that he fliould fo eafily forget Heloifa; but I have 
 faid , that he never really loved her. More than 
 other men, he was not free to command his 
 affeftions ; and from motives of religion , perhaps 
 even of compafiion , he wiflied in her breaft to 
 check that ardent flame , which burned to no 
 other purpofe, than to render her heart miferable, 
 and her life forlorn. 
 
 To erafe thefe unfavorable impreflions , which 
 the mind has conceived of Abeillard , we muft 
 view him in diftrefs , fmarting from oppreflion 
 and unprovoked malevolence. There was, I know, 
 in his chara£ler fomething which irritated oppofi- 
 tion , whether it was a love of fmgularity , an 
 afperity of manners , or a confcioufnefs of fuperior 
 talents , which he did not difguife. However this 
 might be , the behaviour of his enemies was 
 always harfli , and fometimes cruel ; and him we 
 pity. — Pie now became a religious , a benevolent. 
 
 o o K 
 VII. 
 
i54 history of THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK a virtuous man ; and thoufands reaped benefit 
 
 VII. fi'om his inltru6lions , as they were tutored by his 
 example — The clofe of his unhappy life was to 
 the eye of the chriftian fpe61ator its moft brilliant 
 period. His fun , which through its long revolu- 
 tion , had been often obfcured by dark clouds 
 and pallid vapors, now defcended in a mild 
 radiance , and difappeared with glory. In his death 
 he was the great and good man , the philofopher 
 and the chriftian. The all-ruling hand of provi- 
 dence , which made us what we are , can beft 
 corred the accidental depravity of our natures , 
 and perfect his own work, fometimes in the 
 funlhine of profperity, but oftener in the chilling 
 blaft of tribulation. 
 
 Peter the venerable , whofe benevolence of cha- 
 ra6ler, while it threw a veil over the imperfections 
 of his friend , was careful to draw out his virtues, 
 and to embellifh them , has alfo defcribed the 
 abbot of St. Gildas. — “ He was the Socrates of 
 France , he fays , the Plato of Italy , the Arif- 
 totle of the fchools. To his predeceffors , in the 
 “ walks of philofophy , he was equal, or fuperior. 
 « Confefled by all the mafter and model of elo- 
 ‘‘ quence, he charmed by the variety of his talents, 
 and convinced by the fubtilty of his reafoning. 
 ‘‘ But then was his life moft tranfcendent, when 
 clothed in the habit of Cluni, and profeffing 
 ** its rule, be became the true philofopher of Chrift, 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i55 
 
 “ Here happily terminating the laft fcene of a long BOOK 
 “ life, he left us full of hope, that his eternal habita- VIL 
 “ tion would be with the virtuous and the wife 
 
 There is more of panegyric, than of fimple truth 
 in thefe lines; but they fell without flattery from 
 the pen of Peter , while he wilhed to footh the 
 aching heart of Heloifa. 
 
 The news of the death of Abeillard was carried The abbot of 
 to Cluni, and the whole convent lamented his lofs. ciuni wn . 
 Peter mourned for him as for a friend , fnatched 
 immaturely away , juft as he began to know his Heioua. 
 worth , and to admire his virtues. Vainly he had 
 fometimes flattered himfelf, that heaven might 
 indulge his wifhes , and give him longer the com- 
 pany of a man , from whofe converfation and 
 advice he could draw comfort and counfel , in the 
 arduous duties of his office, and from whom alfo 
 the whole community of Cluni might derive fuch 
 effential benefits. His death however was not an 
 unexpeded fliock , and was therefore lefs painful : 
 from the firft moment he had entered his gates , 
 he faw he was a flower , wounded at the root, 
 which muft foon wither and fall. 
 
 When his good heart had indulged thefe mourn- 
 ful thoughts, and a folemn fervice , agreeably to 
 the practice of the Roman church, had been per- 
 formed for the repofe of the departed foul ; Peter 
 well faw he had another office of friendfliip to 
 
 * Pet. Cluniae. Ep* 
 
156 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK execute, which could not be any longer poflponed. 
 
 VII. This was to acquaint Heloifa of the event He 
 
 knew the tender tie which bound her to Abeillard ; 
 at all events , as he had been the founder of the 
 Paraclet , its benefactor , and its friend , it was 
 proper they lliould have notice of his death. Often 
 did he refleCl , how he could communicate the 
 doleful tidings bell : he was not perfonally known 
 to Heloifa j he would therefore , he thought ; 
 adopt that method, which , from his knowledge 
 of human nature , would probably make the leafl 
 painful imprefhon. — Since Abeillard had been 
 at Cluni, he had received letters from the abbefs , 
 probably to inquire after the health of his gueft , 
 and fhe had fent him fome prefents , as a mark 
 of her efleem **. 
 
 He begins his letter by faying, how much her 
 attention had pleafed him , and that , on her own 
 account alone , he had felt the mofl fentimental 
 joy from her letters. “ I wiflied , fays he, inftantly 
 to have replied , for my heart was full ; but 
 bufinefs, and the troublefome cares of office, 
 “ to which I am obliged to give way, hindered me. 
 “ With fome difficulty I now Real a day , and I 
 give it to you.” — He is fenfible, he obferves,that 
 he fliould have made fome return for the warm 
 regard fhe had exprelfed for him, and which her 
 
 1 « 
 
 Pet. Cluniae. Ep. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 157 
 
 prefents alfo had attefted; that he flioiild have 
 laid how much he loved her in the Lord. 
 
 The venerable man then proceeds with much 
 gallantry: “-But it is not juft now, fays he, that I 
 “ begin to love you : I remember what my heart 
 felt for you many years ago. When firft I beared 
 “ your name, and fame reported the progrefs you 
 “ had made in human literature, I was but a young 
 “ man. Then, I recoiled, it was faid, that a girl , 
 “ though engaged in the world , was bufied in 
 “ the purfuits of fcience , and in the thorny 
 “ paths of worldly philofophy. This was rare; 
 “ but it was added that, neither pleafure nor 
 “ amufements could draw her, by their allure- 
 “ ments, from the objedls of her laudable inquiry. 
 “ And at a time, when almofl the whole world, 
 ‘‘ fliamefully indolent , had ceafed from thefe 
 laudable purfuits, and wifdom could hardly 
 “ find where to reft its foot, not only in the 
 ‘‘ company of the fofter fex, which had totally 
 “ reftounced her, but even amongft men, you, 
 “ Heloifa, by your exalted ftudies left all the 
 “ women far behind you, and but few men could 
 ‘‘ enter into competition with you. But foon 
 “ your purfuits were turned to a better objeA: 
 the gofpels took place of logic , Paul of philofo- 
 phy, and Chrift of Plato ; to the academic grove 
 “ fucceeded the retired cloifter. Now were you 
 “ truly called the philofophic maid. ” 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
i5S 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK. He then continues his encomium in many allu- 
 VII. fions from the books of fcripture, and exhorts 
 her to perfeverance for the advantage of many , 
 who were now to draw edification from her 
 example , and inftru<ftion from her lips. “• Witli 
 “ pleafure, fays he, could I difcufs thefe matters 
 “ with you, and dwell on the fubjeft, for I am 
 “ charmed with your erudition, but ftill more 
 “ am I charmed by the fame of your religious 
 “ life.” — He tells her how much it is his wiflr, 
 
 . thatflie were an inhabitant of Marcigni, (a convent 
 of nuns not far from Cluni), and he relates their 
 admirable virtues. “ Thefe, I know, continues 
 ‘‘ he , you and your fiflers may poffcfs , even in 
 “ greater meafure, and it may not be pohible to 
 add to them; but would not our republic, of 
 “ which Marcigni is a member, be enriched by the 
 “ treafures you would fo liberally lavilh on us? 
 “ But it has not entered into the fchemes of 
 “ providence to bellow this blelfing on Cluni. ” 
 Hitherto he had not mentioned the naflae of 
 Abeillard, or moi't diflantly alluded to him; he 
 had run out into compliment , and the artful 
 indu£lion of fuch matter, as would pleafe by its 
 elegance and familiar application , while it pre- 
 pared her mind for the fliock, which would 
 not be fo violent, when fhe faw that the liand 
 which gave it was humane and gentle The lafl 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i 5 g 
 
 lino, But it has not entered into the fchenaes 
 “ of providence to beftow bleffing on Cluni, ” 
 moft happily introduces the painful fubjed. 
 “ You heaven will not give us, he fays, but it 
 “ has given us your Abeillard , Heloifa , that fer- 
 vant of God, and that chriftian philofopher, 
 whofe name lhall ever be mentioned with re- 
 “ fpe£l and honor. He then relates his faint- 
 like life at Cluni 5 in the words I have already 
 copied 5 and in the concluiion of this charming 
 panegyric , ( which was calculated to fill her mind 
 with the enthufiafm of virtue, and to raife it, in 
 warm gratitude, to him, who had dealt fo kindly 
 with Abeillard), he tells her that his health had 
 begun to decline , and that he had fent him to 
 the mild air of St. Marcellus. Nor does he forget 
 flill to praife his exemplary deportment, till the 
 laff fcene can be with-held no longer: but fo 
 gradually had fhe been prepared for it, that it 
 breaks imperceptibly upon her , and fiie hardly 
 feels its fliock. 
 
 Having told the melancholy tale in a manner, 
 which did honor to his heart and head, he 
 concludes in thefe confoling words : Thus did 
 
 Abeillard clofe his days. He , whofe learning 
 was vaft , and of whom almofl the four corners 
 of the world had been taught to fpeak, became 
 “ the difciple of him, who was meek and humble 
 of heart. He is gons to his mafler. And you. 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
i6o HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “ dear fifter, who were once his wife, but 
 VII. “ whom afterwards a purer tie united to him , 
 “ repofe now in the certain hope that the day 
 “ will come , when he will again be given to 
 “ you. In the mean time , remember him , 
 “ when your thoughts are railed to God ; remem- 
 ‘‘ ber alfo me, and my brethren at Cluni'*.” 
 We know not, after all, how Heloifa received 
 the tidings ; for no reliance can be placed on the 
 accounts , which fome authors , in wanton play- 
 fulnefs , have chofen to give of it'*. That it 
 afle61ed her much, is certain; becaufe it would 
 revive a thoufand fad ideas, which had long been 
 affociated in her mind: otherwife , the enthufiafm 
 of her palhon had fpent itfelf; Ihe was now near 
 her fortieth year; abfence had applied its foothing 
 balfam ; and religion , reafon , and virtue , had 
 all confpired to call her thoughts from earth to 
 heaven. But if fhe felt the mod pungent forrow , 
 it was but natural; and if fhe indulged it, it 
 was furely pardonable. The whole fociety of the 
 Paraclet may likewife be permitted to mingle 
 their tears with her’s. 
 
 She requefts • The reader will perhaps recolledl that Abeillard, 
 his firft letter to Heloifa, had requefted that, 
 when or wherefoever he fliould die, his body 
 might be conveyed to the Paraclet , that fo he 
 
 **Pet. Cluniae. Ep. ** Vie d’Abeil. p. 269, 
 
 might 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i6i 
 
 might partake more fecurely of their prayers. 
 At the time, this reqiieft had greatly agitated 
 Heloifa , and it feenied to prefs like the hand of 
 death upon her heart: fhe thought it cruel and 
 ungenerous : but ihe could never forget it , and 
 as the event, which Ihe feared fo much, had now 
 happened , it would be her firft duty to difcharge 
 the obligation. There is likewife within us a na- 
 tural propenfion to polTefs the laft remains of our 
 friends, though they be but lifelefs alhes , or 
 cold duft. 
 
 Abeillard , it is probable , had loft fight of a 
 circumftance, which was once fo near to his 
 heart, or had negleded to mention it, as a 
 dying petition, to Peter of Cluni, or to the 
 monks who cloied his eyes. But Heloifa did not 
 therefore think herfelf releafed from her engage- 
 ment: fhe could propofe it to the abbot of Gluni, 
 nor could ftie doubt of his compliance. It was , 
 befides, the united prayer of the Paraclet , that 
 the allies of their founder lliould repofe within 
 their walls. She therefore wrote to Peter, thank- 
 ing him for his letter, and all his kind attentions 
 to Abeillard , and then urged , in warm terms , 
 what had formerly been his requeft , which Ihe 
 fti’engthened with her own and the joint petition, 
 of all her fillers This letter is loft. 
 
 Vie d’Abeil. p. 269. 
 
 VoL. II. M 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
i6a HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK The good man felt at once the propriety of the 
 VII. reqneft, and though he willied much to have 
 retained the corfe of Abeiilard, whofe duft would 
 do honor to Cluni , for ages yet to come j yet 
 he fhould not, he thought, bejuftified in fo doing: 
 he communicated the petition of tlie Paraclet to 
 his community, who unanimoufly refolved that 
 it mufl not be complied with ; and the monks of 
 St. Marcellus, who were actually in poffefTion of 
 the body , were even more averfe. They had 
 buried it in folemn pomp , and were preparing 
 to raife a monument to his memory. The abbot 
 in vain remonftrated , and urged the ftrong plea 
 and the merit of Heloifa. In virtue of his poff? 
 he might have commanded a compliance ; but 
 this, from what motives, I know not, he did not 
 chufe to do. He rather preferred another method, 
 which w^as fingular and romantic. 
 
 Some months had paffed , during which 
 nothing more was faid about the removal of the 
 body , and it feemed as if the fcheme were 
 deferted. Probably he had not negle(Sled to inform 
 Heloifa of his hxed refolution to oblige her , and 
 had made fuch arrangements, as might be moff 
 proper for its accomplifliment. In due time he 
 went over to the priory of St. Marcellus. It was 
 in- the month of November. They could not 
 fufped his intentions , as he was their luperior, 
 ^nd various bufinefs might be the motive of his 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i63 
 
 coming. In a dark night, however, while the 
 community was afleep , the body , by the aid of 
 his friends , who abetted the defign , was taken 
 from the vault; a carriage was ready to receive 
 it; and they conveyed it, with all expedition, to 
 the abbey of the Paraclet. Peter himfelf attended, 
 and efcorted the convoy 
 
 The fliock was great which Heloifa felt; but 
 fhe had not time to indulge it. The abbot of 
 Cluni was announced , and inftandy he appeared. 
 She had not been apprized of his coming , and 
 he well imagined that his fudden entrance might 
 break the painful imprelTion, which the mournful 
 tidings, and more than that, the prefence of the 
 poor remains of Abeillard, would make on her 
 mind. Indeed , gratitude llie expreffed for his 
 kind fervices , and happy flie was to fee a man , 
 for whom fhe entertained the moft exalted efleem. 
 But grief, and a burlling heart overpowered every 
 other fentiinent , and Jhe withdrew. 
 
 In the mean time, preparations were making for 
 the folemn celebration of the obfequies, and the 
 body was carried into the church , covered with 
 black, and furrounded by burning tapers. It 
 was placed before the altar. Peter of Cluni, 
 though fatigued from his journey, would perform 
 as principal minifter. The nuns alfemblecl in their 
 
 ** Hdoif. Ep. ad Pet. Cluniae, p. 
 
 M a 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
164 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 -BOOK choir , with Heloifa at their head j the fign was 
 ■VII. given , and the fervice opened in flow and 
 plaintive mnfic. — He that has imagination ma'v 
 now pi£lure to himfelf Heloifa, in the finefl atti- 
 tude of refigned grief, with her e'V'es fometimes 
 raifed towards heaven, but often turned towards 
 Abeillard , and glued to the mournful objedf — 
 He will reprefent the holy fifterhood varioufly 
 affedfed, but with their countenances rather full 
 of hope, that if they have loft the founder of the 
 Paraclet, they have him for an intercedor in 
 heaven, who now even kindly looks down upon 
 them , and hears their prayers — and the 
 venerable prieft he will behold, ftanding at the 
 altar, by his firm looks giving flrength to the 
 dejefted , and animating the luke-warm by a 
 difplay of the moft fincere and unaffedted 
 piety. 
 
 When the fervice was over , Peter made a 
 difcourfe to the affembly; lie fpoke of the virtues 
 of Abeillard, and of his death which was faint-bke , 
 he recommended an imitation of thofe virtues ; 
 and he prayed that his end might be like unto 
 liis. He acknowledged and magnified the lofs 
 which Cluni and the Paraclet had fuffered; but 
 then he inculcated fubmilhon to heaven. He 
 glanced at the extraordinary endowments , the 
 virtue , and the piety of Heloifa , from which 
 every advantage might be derived, though the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i65 
 
 father of theParaclet was no more: and he con- 
 cluded with an eariieft prayer for the profperity 
 and happinefs of all thofe, who now attended this 
 mournful ceremony 'h 
 
 We are come to the laft a£l of the tragic 
 
 O 
 
 fcene — The corfe was now raifed from the bier, 
 and carried to the vault, which Hood open to 
 receive it. The mourners attended in proceffion, 
 and the doleful pfalmody flill continued. Peter , 
 liaving wiped a tear from his eyes , diftindly 
 pronounced the parting fuppli cation , and threw 
 dull upon the grave : the fpe£lators took their laft 
 look ; when the vault was clofed , and all was 
 filence. 
 
 The flay which the abbot made atthe Paraclet, 
 as he acquaints us, was very Ihort Bufinefs 
 recalled him, and it was neceflary he Ihould return 
 to pacify his brethren. '■Nor was it a moment to 
 enjoy the company of Heloifa , whofe mind was 
 too forrowful to engage in converfation. She bung 
 over Abeillard’s grave , and was not eafily drawn, 
 from the fpot What friendly advice and fympa- 
 thizing kindnefs could offer, Ihe received from him, 
 and he fettled fome other bufinefs which flie pro- 
 pofed to him. Again he exhorted the nuns to obed- 
 ience, and to the fleady obfervance of their rule; 
 and parting from them, took his way towards Quni. 
 
 ** Heloif. Ep. ad Peter. Ciuniac. p. 345. 
 
 Pet. Ciuniac. Ep. p. 344. 
 
 M 5 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
x66 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 She writes 
 Peter the 
 venerable. 
 
 [ Not long after this event, Heloifa wrote again 
 to the abbot of Cluni. Her mind was more at 
 eafe i fhe might be fearful that her late behaviour 
 had not pleafed him ; and flie had feme other 
 requefls to make. The letter is as follows, 
 to “ It was the kindnefs of heaven , moft venerable 
 “ father, which lately directed you to the Paraclet. 
 “ We rejoiced, and we had reafon to glory in 
 “ your vifit. Others may recount the benefits 
 “ they have derived from your prefence ; but I 
 “ am at a lofs to exprefs , nor can my mind well 
 tell, how ufeful, and how pleafing, it was to 
 me. You were with us in the month ofNovem- 
 ‘‘ ber laff , when in our church you celebrated 
 the facred myfferies , and the Paraclet you 
 recommended to the charge of the Holy Spirit. 
 The difeourfe you delivered to us is warm on 
 “ our memories ; and fnever can we forget the 
 treafure you intrufted to us , of the body of 
 our dear mafler. — ^To me, in particular, whom 
 you honor with the appellation of filler, as a 
 “ pledge of your love and fincerity, was a fingu- 
 lar favor then alfo granted : when it fliall 
 ‘‘ pleafe heaven to call me hence , thirty malles , 
 you promifed me, Ihould be faid at Cluni, for the 
 “ repofe of my foul; and you faid, you would con- 
 " firm that promife to me by a writing under your 
 own feal. I now requeft you to fulfil that engage- 
 
 “ ment Send me alfo,if you pleafe, another written 
 
 ** deed , containing the abfolution of Abeillard , 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 167 
 
 “ in diftind and fair charaders , figned by your- 
 
 “ felf, which may be hung upon his tomb. 
 
 And for the love of God and me, do remem- 
 ‘‘ ber my fon Aftrolabius : if you can , try to 
 “ procure a living for him from the bilhop of 
 “ Paris, or from fome other prelate. Farewel. 
 “ May heaven watch over you, and on fome 
 ‘‘ future day , again permit us to fee you at the 
 Paraclet!” 
 
 Th is is the lafl letter of Heloifa which time 
 has not deftroyed. It contains fentiments , ex- 
 preffive of the gratitude Ihe felt for the good 
 abbot’s kindnefs to her , and of the high opinion 
 Ihe entertained of him. It contains likewife fome 
 other matters which are not uninterefling : fuch 
 
 O ' 
 
 as the thirty maffes at Cluni, which Heloifa, 
 enlightened and philofophical as flie was, feemed 
 to confider as a molf fmgular favor; fuch as the 
 ahjolulion fhe requefted for Abeillard. This was 
 a devotional pradice of the times. Abeillard 
 had been accufed of holding heterodox opinions, 
 and had even been condemned , and when he 
 died, his faith was hill fufpeded by many; 
 Heloifa therefore was defirous to procure a formal 
 atteflation from the abbot of Cluni, importing 
 that he had expired in the faith of the church ^ 
 and in the favor of its minifters. This was 
 called an abfolution, and it was ufually fixed 
 over the graves of the dead, that it might be 
 
 M 4 
 
 0 o K 
 VII, 
 
m HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK read by the faithful'^ Aftrolabius is likewifc 
 
 VII. mentioned in this letter. It is the fecond time 
 only that his name occurs , and it never returns 
 again , excepting in the abbot’s reply. He was at 
 this time more than twenty years old. 
 
 The abbot of The abbot’s reply — I was pleafed , deareft 
 
 counts an- n ^ ^[ot a little , by the perufal of your 
 “ letter. From it I perceived , that my Ray at 
 “ the Paraclet was not really fo tranfitory , for 
 the recolleeRion of it feems tenacioufly fixed 
 upon your mind. It was not like the flying 
 vifit of a traveller, Mdiois hofpitably entertained 
 “ for one night, and is thought of no more. 
 
 How kind and indulgent you were to me ! 
 ‘‘ A^othing feems to have been lofl of all I did , 
 or faid , not only when my difcourfes were 
 delivered intentionally for your inflrudion, but 
 ‘‘ even when T converfed with you on common 
 “ and familiar fubjeds It is the regard you 
 “ have for me which has given fo retentive a 
 “ power to your memory. Or perhaps you 
 were influenced by the words , written in the 
 ‘‘ rules of our refpedive orders, that in the per- 
 “ fons of our guefts we are to think we receive 
 Chrift himfelf. I trnft then, that I fliall never 
 be forgotten at the Paraclet; and that, to the 
 father of mercies, you and your fifters, will 
 ever raife up your hands for me. The return 
 
 FLury, vol. xii. 
 
 
ABEILL AKD AND HELOISA. i6g 
 
 I can make to you , that I daily do. Long 
 “ before I knew you, you pofTefTed a place in 
 my heart; and fince I have known you, that 
 “ place has been enlarged by all the influence of 
 
 “ the moft fincere affetlion The promtfe I 
 
 “ made of the mafles, I now execute, and fend 
 
 ‘‘ you And with it you receive , what you 
 
 requeued, the abfolution of Abeillard, written 
 and figned by me — As to Aflrolabius , whom 
 “ I adopt, becaufe he is your fon, be affured, 
 as foon as it fiiall be in my power, I will do 
 ‘‘ all I can to place him in fome of the great 
 churches. But the thing is difficult; for I have 
 often experienced that our bifhops , when 
 application is made to them , make many dif- 
 ‘‘ ficulties , which are not eafily removed. For 
 your fake , however , my beft endeavours ffiall 
 be exerted, and that as foon as may be. Fare 
 ‘‘ ye well. ” 
 
 Abeillard’s abfolution — “ I Peter, abbot of Cluni, 
 who received Peter Abeillard into the number 
 “ of my religious , and who , having taken his 
 “ body, by health, from the grave, delivered it 
 ‘‘ to Heloifa the abbefs and to her nuns at the 
 “ Paraclet, do now, by the authority of God 
 “ and his faints , abfolve him , in virtue of my 
 ‘‘ office, from all his fins. May he reft in peace'*.” 
 Thefe matters being thus fettled, Heloifa ^ 
 
 ** Op. Abeil. p. 535. 
 
 o O K 
 VII. 
 
I 
 
 BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 170 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 penfive, but refigned , recalled all her thoughts, 
 and fixed them at the Paraclet. Indeed , there 
 was no external obje6I to engage them, for all 
 that remained of Abeillard was there. For one- 
 and-twenty years , which flie had ftill to live , 
 we hear no more of her, only that llie was held 
 in the higheft eftimation, that Ihe was a pattern 
 of every monaftic and chriftian virtue, and that, 
 ever retaining the tendereft affe6lion of a wife , 
 fhe prayed unceafingly at her hufband’s tomb 
 Surely there is fomething,at leafl, humane in the 
 do£irine, which teaches us to hold an intercourfe 
 with the other world , and to believe that friend- 
 ffiip may be ferviceable even beyond the grave! 
 
 I have before obferved, that fo uniform and 
 unche^uered is the monaftic life , that the moft 
 minute account, or the accurate memoirs, of a 
 nun’s life, could not give us the fmalleft enter- 
 tainment And the misfortune is , that then there 
 is the leaft to be faid , when the pious reclufe 
 conforms bell to her holy inftitute , and is the 
 more perfe£l woman. It will be a queftion with 
 fome 5 whether a nun , in any circumftances , 
 merits the appellation of a perfect; woman! Per- 
 feftion , I believe , may be attained in all ftates ; 
 though that being, indubitably, is the moll 
 perfe£l , which anfwers beft to the defigns of its 
 creation. Why, or for what end, we were made, 
 is a point not fo eafily perhaps to be decided. 
 
 ” Notae Quercet. p. 1195. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 171 
 
 Am I not free to chufe my own ftate of life ; to 
 withdraw, if I pleafe, from the fociety of mortals; 
 and to live only to myfelf and to my maker ? If 
 I owe any thing to fociety , that duty fhall firfl 
 be cancelled , and my releafe will be figned. The 
 life of a reclufe may be termed felfilli , and fo it 
 is. But on what principle does he adl , who 
 engages in all the pleafiir^s and the purfuits of 
 life? So little real virtue is there, even among thofe 
 who talk mofl of philanthropy and of focial 
 kindnefs , that a few, I think, may be allowed to 
 fecede from the great mafs , and look for hap- 
 pinefs in the practice of fuch duties as pleafe 
 them befl , and where they fancy it may be 
 found.'^ If Europe Bands in need of greater 
 population, it may be elfe£fed by the fupprelTion 
 of vice , and not by expofing more to its baneful 
 infection. I would open indeed the doors of con- 
 vents, becaufe an improper ufe is often made of their 
 locks and bars; but I would compel none to go out, 
 who preferred the holy retirement ofacloifler, to 
 the wide expanfe of heaven, and to the anxious and 
 
 corroding cares ofa6live life From thefe Heloifa 
 
 was now free ; for as her heart feparated from the 
 world, her happinefs increafed. That had been the 
 fource of all her mifery. To the exercifes of prayer, 
 meditation, fludy, and of many other innocent 
 and amufing duties, we will now leave her, 
 and turn to fome events of importance , which 
 occupy the period of twenty years, on which I 
 am entered. 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
172 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Innocent thefecond was juft dead , having filled 
 VII. the chair of St. Peter thirteen years. He was a 
 Innocent II man of worth and abilities , but little occurs in 
 the annals of his reign, momentous or interefting. 
 Peter of Leon was chofen , by a powerful faHion, 
 to oppofe him , and he fupported himfelf for 
 fome time, even in Ptome itfelf, againft all the 
 weight of Innocent. It was only death that clofed 
 this formidable oppofition , v/hich lafted for eiglit 
 years. Peter had taken the name of Anacletiis. 
 His principal friend was Roger duke of Sicily ; 
 while the reft of the chriftian princes efpoufed 
 the caufe of Innocent , who feems to have been 
 canonically elected. — It is curious to behold the 
 two pontiffs, mutually fulminating their anathemas 
 againft each other, as ill humor or a fhow of fuc- 
 cefs gave energy to their operations : but the con- 
 fequences of thefe fchifms in the chriftian church 
 were fatal ; they relaxed its difcipline, and fpread 
 the evils of anarchy and civil ftrife. 
 
 It was only fince its aggrandizement , which had 
 now rifen to an- enormous bulk , that the papal 
 throne had become an objecft; of cabal and ambi- 
 tion. In the firft ages of the church we read of no 
 anti-popes; for who would run after a poll of 
 labor , of humility , of mortification , and of 
 fuffering ? It was the • duty of the firft paftor to 
 fet the example of thefe virtues. But when Rome , 
 from her feyen hills , declared herfelf the miftiefs 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i ;3 
 
 of the world, in a fenfe more extenhve even that 
 Ihe had known in the days of her greatefl martial 
 fplendor, where was the man of ambition whofe 
 eye would not be raifed to the gorgeous throne ? 
 
 To Innocent fucceeded Celeftin and Lucius, 
 both the fecond of the name, whofe joint reigns 
 did not exceed many months j when we come to 
 Eugeriius the third , of whom I have already 
 fpoken. He had been a monk of Clairvaux , and 
 a difciple of Bernard. When the faint beared of 
 his promotion , he thus wrote to the cardinals : 
 “ God forgive you ! What have you done ? You 
 “ have taken a dead man from his grave , and 
 replunged him into a crowd and the tumults 
 “ of life. Where could your thoughts be, when 
 “ you chofe this rullic man ; when you tore the 
 “ axe and fpade from his hand, dragged him to 
 the palace, raifed him on a throne, and clothed 
 him in purple ? To me the change is ridiculous. 
 “ A little man, covered with rags , in a moment 
 ‘‘ is exalted to a poll , from whence he may rule 
 “ over princes and biiliops , may difpofe of king- 
 “ doms and empires ! There may be fomething 
 “ miraculous , I own , in this event ; Bill , I am 
 “ not without my apprehenfions that , modefl as 
 “ he is and habituated to retirement , he will be 
 “ little adapted to acquit himfelf of his high 
 “ fun£lions with a becoming dignity**. ” 
 
 Bern. Ep. 257. 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 Eugenius III. 
 
174 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 He wrote another letter to the pope liinVelP : 
 “ You are now, fays he to him, in poffefTion of 
 “ a higher place ; but is it more fafe ? Has not 
 “ danger increafed with your exaltation ? — How 
 « happy Ihould I die , could I fee the church of 
 “ God as it was in former ages , when the apoftles 
 ‘‘ let go their nets to take fouls , and not to draw 
 
 O 
 
 “ in gold and filver In all you do , remember 
 
 « you are mortal. Let the recolle£lion of the 
 deaths of your predeceffors , fome of whom 
 your own eyes faw expire , ever keep the 
 “ awful thought in your mind. The fhort period 
 “ of their glory lliould tell you , how foon you 
 “ maybe called to follow them*'. ” 
 
 At his acceffion Rome was much agitated by the 
 preaching of Arnold of Brefcia and the defigns of 
 his followers : Eugenius therefore retired , and 
 feeing no profpedl of the reftoration of peace , 
 continued his journey into France. — The popes, 
 at this time , were often obliged to retire from 
 Rome. It was not at once that the people could 
 be induced quietly to fubmit to their unnatural 
 jurifdiftion ; and befides j a very powerful fadion, 
 which the anti-popes occafionally headed, gave 
 life to an oppofition , which was eafily irritated, 
 which great condefcenfions could not permanently 
 fatisfy , and which , at the eledion of every new 
 
 «f 
 
 Bern. Ep. 25. 
 
 31 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 175 
 
 msftcr 5 wns i03.dy to petition for rcclrcfs of ^rie- 
 Vtinces , to mutiny , and to rebel. By Beady and 
 cool exertions tliey might have carried their 
 point, aud have torn from the Reman pontiff 
 thofeinfigniaofwordly grandeur, which belonged 
 not to him j and in fuch an undertaking , the 
 princes of Europe , it feems , had they known 
 their real intereft , would have efpoufed the caufe 
 of the Roman people : but thefe very princes , 
 and this very people, when tlie paroxifm of good 
 fenfe was over, were themfelves the greateft 
 fupport of the unchriflian power. It was from 
 palTion rather and teftinefs of humor, and not from 
 convidion of its inexpediency, that they oppofed 
 its progrefs : they were ignorant of their ovAin rights, 
 and uninformed of the real principles of chrifti- 
 anity, and fo bafely fuperfhtious , that the mere 
 tlireat of excommunication difarmed their juBeft 
 fury , and reduced them to obedience and the 
 moB fubmiffive penitence. 
 
 When Eugenius was obliged to fly from Italy he 
 retired to France. Here he might rely on finding 
 a fecure afylum. It is remarkable that this king- 
 dom , which has always been tenacious of its 
 ecclefiaBical privileges , and which gave lefs to 
 Rome than any other chriBian Bate , fliould , on 
 every occafion , have Bood foremoB to protedl 
 the perfons of the pontiffs , and even then receive 
 them with refpedt , obey their iiiBrudion , court 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
176 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK their good will , and fiipport , at their own ex- 
 VII. penfe, the fplendor of their courts, wlien they 
 condemned the very principles of their eondncSI, 
 and could but applaud the oppofition of their ene- 
 mies. The enlarged and enlightened minds of 
 the French nation could ever diflinguifii betwixt 
 abufe and principle, and could even then refpedt 
 the perfon of their firfl bifiiop , when they pitied 
 his behaviour , and viewed tlie errors, into which . 
 the falfe maxims of his court had impelled him. 
 
 Eugenius was the mover of the fecond crufade, 
 and lived to fee its ilTue. He was a prince of great 
 private virtues, and the protedlor of the learned 
 and the good. Peter the venerable has drawn 
 his charaCler : he knew him well , and was too 
 honed *to flatter , or to give unmerited praife. He 
 had been with him in Rome. “ I never knew, 
 “ fays he , a more conflant friend , a brother 
 ” more fincere , or a more indulgent father. His 
 “ ear was patient to liflen , and his tongue prompt 
 “ to anfwer ; and not as a mafler to his inferior, 
 “ but as an equal to his equal , and fometimes as 
 an inferior to his lord. There was no pomp , 
 nothing arbitrary ; no majefly in his deport- 
 “ ment; juftice, humility, and truth had pof- 
 ** felfed the whole man. Every petition I made was 
 either granted , or he refufed it upon terms fo 
 ‘‘ reafonable, that I could not complain " He 
 
 ** Pet. Clumac. £p. ad Bern. 
 
 fat 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 177 
 
 fat eight years, and died regretted. Anaftafms the 
 fourth, an old and, experienced man, fucceeded 
 to him , who only faw the end of his firfl yean 
 
 We are come to Adrian the fourth. This was 
 Nicolas Breakfpear> born in England, of low and 
 indigent parents. His father ^ to provide at lead 
 for his own wants, became a monk at St. Albans, 
 and left Nicolas and his mother to contend with 
 diflrefs and penury. The youth was born with 
 abilities , was fprightly, and ingenious , but indi^ 
 gence was a bar to all his willies , and he could 
 not even procure the common aid of a mafler in 
 the grammar -fchool. When hunger preffed^ he 
 went to the door of his father’s convent, and beg- 
 ged for bread. The proud monk was offended, he 
 bluffied that his family lliould be thus difgraced , 
 and reproaching him one day with his indolence 
 and want of fpirit , turned him from the door, 
 with an injundlion that he would never return 
 more. 
 
 Nicolas faw, at once, the horror of his fitua- 
 tion, and that he had no friend but his own. 
 heart to look tc« But if fate had marked him for 
 a beggar , it would be more honorable , he 
 thought , to pradtife his profeffion , at a diftance 
 from his own country. Forlorn and friendlefs he 
 wandered about for fome time, when an occafion 
 prefenting itfelf, he croffed over into France, and 
 landed , with all the World before him , and 
 VoL. IL N 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 Adrian IV* 
 
nS HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ,» o K providence his "uide. But tlic h-orizon lowered 
 \'ii. round him. Wiiat could he do in this foreign 
 land , nnprotetled and ignorant of the language P 
 He did what he could ; he labored when he 
 could find employment , and when neceflity 
 comoelled him , he bea'iied. Tlius fuccefslcfs he 
 travelled on till he arrived at St. Rufus, a convent 
 of regular canons , not far from Avignon in 
 Provence. 
 
 Nicolas 5 as his hiflorian relates , had a good 
 fioure, and his countenance was remarkably enga- 
 ging. He prefented himfelf to the abbot of St. 
 Rufus, afhed for employment. He was admitted, 
 as a menial fervant, into the convent. Fortune, 
 he thought , for the firR time , now fmiled upon 
 him , and he was refolved to co-operate : he 
 labored hard, and flrove, by the moft a£live 
 fcrvices , to render himfelf agreeable to his 
 employers. His endeavours were fuccefsful ; and 
 very foon they obferved that Nicolas had abilities 
 which might be better employed. They admired 
 Ills prudence , his judgment, and his cautious 
 referve. Very foon, therefore, the abbot offered 
 him the habit of his order , expreffmg great ap- 
 probation of liis conduct, and a wifli that he 
 would enrol himfelf among the monks of St. 
 
 O 
 
 Rufus. With exultation he accepted the preferred 
 dignity, which feemed more than ample enough 
 to hll the wildeft fehemes, his fancy ever formed. 
 His life was a new procefs j he Rudied, he con- 
 
ABEILLAPxD AND HELOISA. 179 
 
 verfed with the learned, and he reflefted much. 
 By application his abilities expanded , and he 
 rapidly advanced in fcience. His genius was 
 penetrating, and he polTelTed a fluency of fpeech 
 which was uncommon , and which culture foon 
 rendered eloquent and perfuafive. His love of 
 retirement and of dilcipline was alfo exemplary. 
 Thus he lived, tlie honor and admiration of his 
 convent, for many years, when the abbot dying, 
 Nicolas Brealtfpear was unanimoufly chofen his 
 fuccelTor. 
 
 It was not long, however, before they repented 
 of the choice they had made. The new abbot 
 was a rigid man , and he exadled a regularity 
 from his monks , wliich did not pleafe them. 
 They carried their complaints to Home , and 
 * urged many groundlefs charges againft'him. Eu- 
 genius who was then pope, cited the parties before 
 him. He admired the wifdom, the modefty, and 
 the prudence of the abbot , and well faw from 
 what fource their complaints originated. He 
 attempted to reconcile them, and leemed to have 
 fucceeded ; but the evil was too invetCiate, and 
 foon they repeated their accufations wirh more 
 violence than before. fee, laidEugemus to the 
 “ malccontents, from whence your diflatisfiidioii 
 comes; go, and chufe another abbot, who may 
 pleafe you better; Nicolas fiiall lemain with 
 “ me.” He ftaid; and the pope huding him very 
 
 TV o 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
K O 0 
 VII. 
 
 180 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 intelligent and expert in biifmefs , employed him 
 m his court, and foon alter created him cardinal 
 bihiop of Albano. Fie was afterwards fent legate 
 into Norway, on the very arduous bufmefs of 
 inftrubling that barbarous nation, and fo well did 
 he execute his commilfion , and give general 
 fatisfablion in all that he did , that , on the death 
 ■of Anaftafms, in 1154, he was the next day eled- 
 ed pontift, under the name of Adrian the fourth. 
 
 Ihe tiara had no fooner toucJied the brows of 
 Adrian, than he felt that fwell of heart, which 
 
 heroes and feeptered kings are faid to feel The 
 
 faaion of Arnold was tlien powerful; they were 
 guilty of exceffes, and had publicly infulted a 
 cardinal of Rome. The pontiff laid the city under 
 an interdidi, and refufed to take it off, till the 
 fadious demagogue and his adherents fhould be • 
 expelled from the walls. For five montlis the 
 fervice of the church was fufpended, when the 
 fenators, compelled by the entreaties of the people, 
 waited on the pope, begged his forgivenefs , and 
 promifed to comply with his commands. Adrian 
 was fatisfied. Surrounded by his bifliops and car- 
 dinals, and the nobility of Rome, he then fliowed 
 himfelf to the people : they received him with 
 burRs of the fmcereft acclamations ; the interdidi 
 was withdrawn ; and peace and unanimity feemed 
 once more reftored to the diffradled city. 
 
 Frederic Barbaroffa, king of the Romans, came 
 to Rome to receive the imperial crowm. He was 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i8i 
 
 admitted to an interviewwith Adrian; but neglect- 
 ing to take hold of his holinefs’s flirrup ^ as the 
 ceremonial feemed to require, the pontih refufed to. 
 admit him to the kifs of peace. A long conference 
 took place, but Adrian was inflexible: the king then 
 adviled with his nobles , when rhc moft ancient of 
 them affiired him, that what the pope required had 
 been practifed by his predeceflors. Frederic was. 
 obliged to fubmit ; and the next day, in the fight of 
 his army, he held the flirrup, and fullenly walked 
 by his fide, while Adrian advanced about a hun- 
 dred yards: the pontiff then embraced him, and' 
 prefented him with the crown, in the church of 
 St. Peter. 
 
 Aarian, however , and kredcrie, were not of a. 
 chaiacder to be friends. The former entertained allr 
 the romantic ideas of prerogative, Avhich had once 
 filled the breaft of Gregory the feveiitli ; and tho 
 latter knew too well his own confequence, was too 
 proud, too opinionated, and too informed, to fubmit 
 to fuch extravagant pretentions. They quarrelled: 
 therefore , were reconciled , and again quarrelled, 
 Adrian rather fliowing fubmillion than boldly 
 meeting liis adverfary , till death opportunely 
 intervened, and divided tlie combatants. 
 
 Adiian alfo contended witli William the bad., 
 fecond king of Sicily. The king had applied to him' 
 for the confirmation of his dominions , which he 
 held of the holy fee. This the pope refufed;. ort 
 
 N' 3 
 
 r ‘- • 
 
 O O K 
 YII. 
 
i8s HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK which William entered die lands of his holinefs , 
 VII. and laid them wafte with fire and fword. Adrian 
 excommunicated the facrilegious plunderer, and 
 declared his fubje£ls free from their allegiance. 
 The Sicilians immediately fent a deputation to 
 the pontiff , requefling he would accept their fub- 
 milfion, and receive their fealty. Adrian put 
 himfelf at the head of a formidable army, and 
 advanced into the enemy’s country ; on all fides 
 they fubmitted , and owned him their mailer. 
 William, now fenfible no time was to be loll, 
 propofed terms of peace , which were accepted ; 
 a treaty was foon after concluded on conditions 
 advantageous to the court of Rome. 
 
 He granted to Henry Plantagenet permiffion 
 to conquer Ireland , and to eftabliffi in it the 
 purity of the chriflian faith. The king had fent a 
 meflenger to compliment Adrian on his acceffion 
 to the triple crown , and formally to jircfent the 
 petition, in queflion. No one doubts it, fays 
 “ he in his bull to Henry, and you yourfelf know, 
 that Ireland , and all the iffands , which have 
 embraced the chriflian faith , belonp- to the 
 Roman fee. ” — I know not the grounds of this 
 extraordinary pretenfion, which extended equally 
 to England, though Henry , in this inflance, 
 would hardly have admitted the claim- It is the 
 poor boy , who begged bread at St. Albans , that 
 HOW holds this language to Henry the fecond of 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i83 
 
 England!— With the bull Adrian fent a ring, n 
 ornamented with a rich emerald, wEicli figniiied X' li. 
 that he invefted Henry with his Lingdom ol Ireland., 
 
 It was John of Salifbury , formerly a fcholar .ol 
 Peter Abeillard , and norv chaplain to the arch- 
 bilhop of Canterbury , who was employed on || 
 
 this embaify. Being at Beneventum with Adrian,. 
 
 Avho loved him as his countryman , and rvho 
 admired his abilities and his honeft virtues, when 
 the difcourfe , one day, ran on fubjedis which 
 were mutually interefting , and the pope was un- 
 folding the fecrets of his heart: ‘“My friend, 
 
 “ faid Adrian , it may feem tliat , in what I told 
 “ you of my early life , I liad much to fufler. 
 
 “ Suffer I did; but when I compare it ^s■ith tli^ 
 
 “ niiferies which now furround me , i fiiould ra 
 “ ther fay that , I was then at eafe and happy. 
 
 “ Well, I think, would it have been for me, 
 
 “ had I never quitted my native home, or had 
 “ I remained a humble monk , buried rvithin 
 “ the walls of St. Rufus. Still, I was not free to 
 “ oppofe the voice of heaven. I liave lead a weary 
 “ life betwixt the hammer and the anvil ; and no\e 
 “ I truff, the Lord will put his hand under tlie 
 “ burden which he has laid upon my fliouldcrs ; 
 
 “ for , indeed , it overpowers me, ” 
 
 On another occafion he afked his friend, what 
 the world faid of him and the Roman court;' John 
 frankly anfwered : ““ They fay that , Rome Iho’.cs 
 
 N 4 
 
184 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 
 K herfelf not fo much the parent, as the flepmother 
 ‘‘ of the chriftian world. It abounds with fcribes 
 ‘‘ and pharifees, who will not fupport with a Angle 
 finger the load which they heap on others. They 
 domineer iiifolently over the clergy , and give 
 no example to the faithful. They amafs wealth, 
 and load their houfes with ornaments of gold 
 ‘‘ and filver , into which never are the poor ad- 
 ‘‘ mitted , unlefs when vanity may be indulp-ed. 
 
 Every thing is faid to be venal, even jufiice 
 ‘‘ itfelf. — From this cenfure a few , I am told , 
 “ who do their duty , are exempt But it is the 
 Roman bifliop who is the great and infupportable 
 “ burden. The complaint is , that he builds pala- 
 ‘‘ ces , while the churches are falling , and that, 
 ‘‘ while the altars are negledled , he is feen pom- 
 poufiy clothed in gold and purple. ” — ■ “ And 
 what is your own opinion of me ? ” faid 
 
 Adrian , not offended by his honeft freedom 
 
 Your queftion, replied John, difconcerts me 
 not a little. I muff pafs for a fycophant , if I 
 “ difi'ent from the public voice j and, if I join 
 ‘‘ it , I fliall fin , perhaps , againft that refped. 
 
 ‘‘ which is due to your holinefs. ” The pope 
 
 infilled that he fliould declare his fentiments. — 
 If I muff fpeak then, continued he; it is my 
 opinion tliat, we fliould obey your inftrudions, 
 “ though in ail things we Ihould not imitate youi 
 « example. The world applauds and flatters you ; 
 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. i83 
 
 they call you father and lord. If you be our 
 “ father, why exa6l gifts from your children ? 
 And if our lord : how comes it tliat even this 
 Roman populace does not fear you ? Holy 
 “ father , you are not in the right path. What 
 has been gratuitoufly given to you , that do 
 “ you give with the fame liberal hand, ’’ — Adrian 
 fmiled , and praifing the ingenuous candor of 
 the ambaffador, begged that if he beared any more 
 evil faid of him , he would not fail to jet him 
 know it. ‘^But as to the contributions, faid he, 
 ‘‘ which we receive from Chriflendom, you have 
 read the fable of the flomach and the mem- 
 ‘‘ bers : how unjufl was their complaint j and how 
 “ defervedly did they languiih, when the heart 
 “ no longer fupplied its vivifying influence. 
 We are the flomach , you the complaining 
 members.” — John now fmiled in his turn; 
 Biook his head , and departed. 
 
 This fame John of Salifbury was afterwards the 
 great friend and conflant companion of Thomas 
 Becket, whofe life he wrote, and who , foon after 
 tlie death of his mafler, for his eminent qualities, 
 was chofen bifliop of Chartres. 
 
 Thus , in the midfl of an agitated ocean , of 
 which he himfelf was the principal mover , com- 
 fortlefs and diffatisfied , lived Adrian the fourth : 
 he faw the end of four years and nine months, 
 when lie died, in ii5g, efleemed by the Roman 
 
 H O O IC 
 VII. 
 
i86 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 State of 
 England 
 
 court, whofe patrimony he had increafed byfome 
 confiderable acquifitions, and praifed for his difin- 
 tereftcdncfs , which he carried to a pitch of af- 
 feded infenftbility ; for he permitted his mother , 
 who faw him railed to the popedom, and who 
 furvived her fon , barely to fubfift on the alms 
 file colleded in the church of Canterbury 
 
 Alexander the third fucceeded to the chair of 
 St. Peter , which he filled for two-and-twenty years ; 
 but it is foreign from my purpofe to enter on the 
 tranfadions of this turbulent and interefhng period. 
 
 While Rome and the church was governed by 
 the mafters I have defcribed , the political hemif- 
 phere of Europe continued to be agitated by war 
 and internal dilTenfions. In England it was a period 
 remarkably melancholy. Stephen had ufurped the 
 throne, and though poffelfed of virtues, which, 
 in other circumflances , might have rendered his 
 reign glorious and his fubjeds happy , yet was he 
 neceflitated to enter into engagements with his 
 clergy and nobility , from which many fatal evils 
 enfued. He fupported himfelf , however, though 
 he found neither happinefs nor tranquillity ; while 
 the country was involved in a feries of intefline 
 diforders , to the laft degree ruinous and deflruc- 
 tive. — In the mean time, young Flenry , the 
 rightful heir to the crown , led on by his good 
 genius, was tutored in the fchool of adverfity , 
 
 ** Fleury, vol. xv. Nat. Alex. faec. xii. from original authors. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 187 
 
 where he learned the pra£llce of thofe great and 
 fplendid virtues , which would foon raife him to 
 the throne of England, and make him the greateft 
 monarch in the chrillian world — Stephen died 
 in 1 154. 
 
 Lewis the feventh , furnamed the younger , 
 becaufe he reigned fome years with his father , 
 had been king fmce the year iiS;. He was early 
 embroiled with the court of Rome , though he 
 was efleemed religious , and even , on fome occa- 
 fions, rather inclined to fuperflition. But the 
 princes of his realm were particularly turbulent, 
 and among thefe no one fo much as Theobald , 
 
 O 
 
 count of Champagne , brother to Stephen of 
 England, who had proteiled Abeillard, and 
 whom the monks extolled as the pattern of all 
 princely virtues. In his chara£ler, however, he 
 was mutinous and headflrong, and ever at war 
 with his fovereign. This crime he expiated by 
 charitable donations to the church , and by en- 
 dowing monafteries; or if his fins were not thus 
 forgiven him , at leaf! he gained friends , whofe 
 intereft was often mofl highly ferviceable and 
 among thefe Bernard of Clairvaux flood foremoft. 
 
 The diflurbance and unfettled hate of England 
 were to France a fortunate event. The faHious 
 and evil fpirit which often paffed out of that 
 country into Normandy, and from thence carried 
 difcordand the feeds of war into the neighbouring 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII» 
 
 State of 
 France. 
 
i88 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book provinces , was too much engaged at home 
 
 VII. Lewis had favored the caufe of the ufurper, and 
 he had motives for it ; at all events , it was his 
 intereh; to keep alive the animofity of both 
 parties , and to draw tranquillity from their 
 diffenfions. — The fituation of France, upon the 
 whole , had feldom been fo calm. Religious 
 
 O 
 
 difturbances there were , part of which I hax’^e 
 related, and Rome, by her imprudent interference, 
 fcattered occafional difcord. But Suger of St. 
 Denys, who has been called the father of his 
 country, was at the head of public affairs: and 
 France could boafl of many other great and good 
 
 men, both in church and flate It was likewife 
 
 judged a fortunate circumflance , which, as it 
 flrengthened the royal domain , fo did it feem 
 to promife a more permanent fccurity , that their 
 king fhould have married Eleanor, the heirefs of 
 Guienne, by which fo great an acceffion was 
 made to their territories. Human forefight, 
 however , which can fometimes read fuccefs in a 
 vifible combination of events , cannot fo control 
 their progrefs , as to keep at a diflance fome 
 untoward circumflances , which often obtrude 
 themfelves unforefeen , and at once break to 
 pieces the wifefl fchemes of fublunary policy. 
 Such was this boahed marriage But I am de- 
 
 taining my reader on this minute detail , while a 
 larger and more inter elling objeft calls for all his 
 attention. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 189 
 
 By the fuccefs, wliich attended the firft crufade, 
 and by the vidories, which the chriftian princes, 
 eftablifhed in the eaft , afterwards gained, four 
 confiderable flates had been formed in the heart 
 of Afia. Thefe were Edeffa , Tripoli , Antioch , 
 and Jeiufalem. lliey had fubflfled for more 
 than foity years, and their territory and power 
 were greatly extended. Unanimity would have 
 rendered them invincible , and by occafional 
 fuccours from Europe , the flrength of the infidel 
 nations might have been broken, and perhaps 
 gradually annihilated. Butidifcord foon divided 
 their councils, and weakened their arms. Baldwin) 
 the third, a youth of thirteen years, reigned in 
 Jerufalem , under the regency of his mother 5 
 Joffelin de Courtenay was count of Edeffa; Ray-- 
 mond de Poitiers, uncle to Eleanor of France, 
 i was prince of Antioch ; and the great grandfon of 
 Raymond ofTouloufe, commanded in Tripoli. 
 
 1 hefe princes were all of the^» French nation 
 
 Noradin, fultan of Aleppo, a powerful and 
 a6Hve prince , watched with a curious eye every 
 motion of the chriflian enemy, and feeing their 
 dillenfions , he availed liimfelf of the fortunate 
 moment ; he laid fiege to Edeffa, and carried 
 it. The town was pillaged , the inhabitants maf- 
 lacred, and the churches polluted. 
 
 The fituation of the other flates was now alar- 
 ming. The confederacy , which united them was 
 
 Ij O O 1C 
 VII. 
 
 The fecond 
 ctufads. 
 
BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 190 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 broken ; the enemy had penetrated into their 
 territories, and feemed to meditate new conquefts : 
 an infant king fat on the throne of Jerufalem : 
 and it was rumored that the proud conqueror 
 was preparing to carry war againfl; die walls of 
 
 Antioch In thefe circumftances , of general con- 
 
 flernation , it was refolved to apply to Em ope 
 for immediate alhftance, and ambaffadors were 
 difpatched with the weighty commiffion. This 
 was in the year 1145. 
 
 They waited on the pope, who was Eugenius HI. 
 He was moved by the melancholy tale , and as 
 the French nation would probably be moft 
 interefled in the fate of their countrymen in Afia, 
 he wrote a letter to their king, wherein he 
 llrongly exhorts him and his people to engage in 
 the holy warfare , and he promifes them all the 
 fpiritual gifts, and extraordinary privileges, which 
 his predeceffor Urban had imparted to the firff 
 crufaders. * 
 
 The meffeiiger found Lewis in the happieR 
 difpofitions. Already his mind had entertained' 
 the romantic idea ; for he had fome fins of a 
 grievous nature to expiate, contraded by the 
 cruel maffacre of the inhabitants of Vitri iiv 
 Champagne, and he had a vow to fulfil, which 
 Ills elder brother , Philip , had made , and 
 had not lived to accomplifli. — The letter of 
 Euf^’enius at once fixed his refoiution , and lie; 
 
 O 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 191 
 
 ordered a great affembly of the nobles and bifliops 
 of his realm to meet at Vezelai in Burgundy, 
 
 Tlie feaft of Eafler came , which was the time 
 appointed , and the concourfe at Vezelai was 
 numerous and fplendid. Bernard of Clairvaux , 
 the oracle of France , had been commanded by 
 his holinefs to preach the crufade , and the king 
 had before confulted him as the guide of his con- 
 
 O 
 
 fcience, and tlie foul that was to animate the great 
 undertaking. — There was no church large enougli 
 to contain the multitude which thickened every 
 moment ; it was therefore propofed that they lliould 
 move into a neighbouring plain. A fcaffold was 
 creeled, and Bernard mounted. The king was on 
 one fide, and Eleanor, his queen, a little behind on 
 I the other. Before him flood a crowd , thick as the 
 fallen leaves in autumn, which flretched over the 
 plain, and feemed to meet the horizon. Bernard 
 turned his face towards the Eafl : a glow of enthu- 
 fiafm beamed on his countenance ; and he raifed his 
 
 eyes and hands towards heaven He firft read the 
 
 pope s letter : it held out the pardon of fins to 
 the crufaders, and the prote 61 ion of the holy fee 
 to themfelves, to tiieir wives, to their children, and 
 to their property; and it promifed the cro'wn of 
 martyrdom to thofe who ihould fall by the enemies 
 fword. —This finiflied, he harangued the multitude : 
 he talked of the dignity of the holy land, and of the 
 profanation, to which foon perhaps it might again 
 be expofed; he recounted the glorious achievements 
 
 book 
 
 VII. 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 19a. 
 
 BOOK of their anceftors, whofe hardihood had wrefled the 
 VIL promifed inheritance from the hands of infidels , 
 where many holy penitents had fincc died their 
 tears unmolefted , and waflied out their fins: this , 
 faid hCj the enemy fees , and is mad with fury. 
 
 “ But what an occafion, continued he, is mow 
 “ oftered for the pardon of your fins! Truly, it 
 “ is an invention worthy of the depth of the 
 “ divine goodnefs ! None are excluded. Murderers, 
 
 thieves, adulterers, all are called Turn them 
 
 “ your fwords no more againft one another: the 
 common enemy prefents his bread to you. 
 “ Confefs your fins; take up the crofs; and march 
 againft him. Vidlory or the palm of martyrdom. 
 “ awaits you in yonder regions: ” and he pointed 
 to the Eaft. 
 
 His words, though uttered with the emphafis of 
 an infpired man, could not be beared at a diftance ; 
 but his geftures and animated looks were vifible. 
 The infedlion caught the firft ranks , and in a 
 moment, like an eleclric fiiock , it pervaded the 
 vaft alfembly. The king role ; he advanced to the 
 preacher , and took from his hand a white cr::>rs , 
 which had been fent him from Rome, and fixed 
 it on his right fiioulder. He then attempted to 
 fpeak , but his voice was drowned in the general 
 uproar. The crowd preifed towards the fcaffold. 
 Eleanor then took the crofs, and after her the 
 principal nobility. As the reft came up , they 
 
 were 
 
BOOK 
 
 ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ig3 
 
 were ferved with crofles ; but fo great was the 
 demand, though a large parcel had .been prepared, 
 that foon there were no more to diftribute. Still 
 tlie cry for crolTes continued , and the prefs was 
 as violent as ever. Bernard would not lofe the 
 precious moment, he tore off his habit, which 
 was white; ript it into croffes; and gave them to 
 the multitude — Never had fuch a fcene been 
 before exhibited. 
 
 As great preparations were neceffary , the ex- 
 pedition was deferred to tlie next year. In the 
 mean time, another meeting was called at Chartres. 
 Here, among the means which were propofed to 
 give fuccefs to the undertaking, the command of 
 the army was unanimoufly offered to Bernard. 
 Ele refufed it, as became him, urging his ill 
 health, and his inability to marffial foldiers and 
 to march at their head. But he undertook another 
 bufmefs to which he was more equal ; this was , 
 to roufe the emperor and the German nation to 
 engage in the expedition. 
 
 He found Conrad at Francfort. Bernard, in 
 fecret, opened his commiffion to him, and as he 
 loved his falvation, he exhorted him, not to lofe 
 the favorable moment. The’ emperor was not 
 moved ; he had bufmefs which engaged him 
 at home ; and he told Bernard , that he had 
 beared Palefline was a great way off, and that 
 
 VII. 
 
 VoL ll 
 
 o 
 
194 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 J{ o 0 K he was not now dlfpofed to vifit it. The faint 
 VII, withdrew. But he refolved to try his flrength on 
 the Germans, and then to renew his attack on 
 Conrad. He had obferved , however , that the 
 Germans were a cool and plilegmatic people, 
 whom common impreflions little moved, and that 
 other means than tliofe , muft be ufed , wliich 
 had infpired his own countrymen with ardor. 
 He would addrefs them in figns and wonders. 
 
 The account of the miracles , which he is then 
 faid to have -worked , in the different towns in 
 Germany, as recorded by eye-witneffes , is truly 
 aftonifliing. I am at a lofs what opinion to form; 
 though I cannot perfuade myfelf to believe, that 
 heaven could have fo manifeftly interfered to 
 promote a fcheme , at once fo extravagant in 
 itfelf , and which was to end fo difaftroufly. 
 Bernard , religious , honeft , confcientious , as he 
 was , could not poffibly have engaged in a fettled 
 plan of deception. I would rather think he was 
 himftlf impofed on ; and that thefe extraordinary 
 fadls were really no more than the common 
 efledls of a heated imagination, aided by ignorance 
 and enthufiafm. They are not related with all 
 their circumflances, and tlie relaters were evident- 
 ly difpofed to tliink^tliem true. 
 
 True or falfe , the effe61 was one. The Ger- 
 mans could not withfland the impreflion. They 
 crowded round the faint, though the language 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ig5 
 
 he fpoke was unknown to them, and often fo 
 impetuoufly , that his own and the lives of his 
 followers were Ibmetimes in danger , while he 
 was giving fpeech to the dumb, and hearing to 
 tlie deaf. Every where they enrolled themfelves 
 
 in the facred fervice Again he met the emperor 
 
 at Spire. Bernard addrelfed him in a public 
 fermon , and in private he held before him the 
 glory of the enterprife, and the fpiritual advantages 
 of a penance , fo eafy and fo honorable. Conrad 
 had beared of the wonders he had worked 
 before his people , and he faw how the torrent 
 ran ; he therefore promifed that , he would lay 
 the matter before his council , and that the next 
 day he lliould know the refult — The holy man 
 was too wife to wait for the next day, or the 
 cool deliberations of its council. While the 
 emperor was at mafs , he appeared unalked in 
 the pulpit, and harangued the alfembly: then 
 turning to Conrad, he faid : “Soon lhall you 
 “ alfo be called before the dread tribunal of your 
 “ judge; and what anfwer will you make, you 
 “ who now ungratefully refufe to move a ftep 
 “ in his fervice , when an account fliall be 
 “ demanded of the territories , of the wealth , of 
 “ the crown, of the armies, of the flrength of 
 “ body and courage of mind , which he has 
 “ bellowed upon you ? ” — The emperor was 
 flruck, and interrupting the preacher, he exclaimed ; 
 
 O Q 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VJI. 
 
BOO 
 
 VII. 
 
 196 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 “ I acknowledge the goodnefs of God, and will 
 " be uneratetid no longer; I now fee what is the 
 “ will of heaven. ” . — Tlie people fiiouted , and 
 Conrad advancing took a crofs from the hand of 
 Bernard; they then went together to the altar, on 
 which lay a flandard , which the faint bleffed , and 
 delivered to the emperor — At the fame time Fre- 
 derick Barbaroffa his nephew, then duke of Suabia, 
 and nobles innumerable, pinned the crofs to their 
 Bioulders. * 
 
 The time fixed for the departure of the armies 
 was come, and the king of France once more met 
 his people at Eflampes. They deliberated on the 
 route which lliould be taken. Many were difpofed 
 to go by fea , as the experience of the firft crufade 
 had taught them, that the fair promifes of the 
 Greeks were not to be relied on ; and in this opinion 
 they were joined by the ambaffadors from Roger , 
 king of Sicily , wlio, in the name of their mafter, 
 offered fhips and all neceffary provifions. The 
 advice, however, was over-ruled. They knew little 
 of failing, and would not expofe themfelves to 
 the uncertain element. Befides , it was faid , at the 
 view of an army, fo numerous and fo fplendid, 
 the pufillanimous Greeks would only tremble. It 
 was therefore refolved to purfue the road which 
 Geoffrey of Bouillon had taken , as far as Conflan- 
 tinople. Of this the emperor was acquainted, who 
 adopted the fame plan. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 197 
 
 In the afTembly of Eftampes, Suger of St. Denys 
 was cliofen regent of the kinfTdom , during the 
 ab fence of the monarch, with the general appro- 
 bation of all orders of the flate. This was the 
 higheft compliment which could be paid to the 
 exalted abilities of this excellent man, and the 
 wifdom of his adminiflration fully juflified the 
 choice. At any other time , indeed, the flep would 
 have been oppofed ; it would have roufed the 
 ambition and the jealoufy of thofe , who, from 
 birth or ffation , might have pretended to the 
 important charge : at prefent , the great paffions 
 of the nation were engaged in another purfuit. 
 
 The German army was firfl in motion. It con- 
 fined of more than a hundred thoufand fighting 
 men , and Conrad was at their Iiead. They 
 marched through Hungary, Bulgaiaa, and Thrace. 
 As they approached Ccnllantinople, it appeared 
 how little the Greeks mere difpofed to be their 
 friends. — Manuel Comncnus , grandfon to 
 Alexius , who liad feen the firft crufade , was 
 empero-r of the Eaft. He was a prince , as his 
 hihorians relate, of a very various charaiferj but 
 his good qualities certainly preponderated , as 
 the Latins themfelves allow he was not without 
 merit. They charge him , indeed , with perfidy?- , 
 and with the baled treachery in tlieir regard', 
 while perhaps he was only prudent and 
 politic, as became a wife -prince. A hundred 
 
 O T 
 
 o o a 
 vir. 
 
igS HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 ^ O O K tlioufand. Germans were under the walls of his 
 VII. capital , brave , enterprifing , and licentious , and 
 they were fooii to be joined by as many French ! 
 He knew they had not forgotten, what they called 
 the ill treatment of his grandfather •, and befides 
 at the very time, Roger of Sicily, their friend 
 and ally, w^s in open war with him, defolating 
 his coafls , and plundering his fubjedis How- 
 
 ever, he received the emperor , whofe brother-in- 
 law he was , with much civility : he praifed his 
 defign , his piety, and his courage; buthe preffed 
 him much to purfue his journey, as the weather 
 was favorable , and as the tranfports were in rea- 
 dinefs to convey his army into Afia. — In the 
 mean while, he acquainted the infidels of the for- 
 midable preparations , which threatened their 
 dominions , and gave them what other irifor-' 
 
 mation might be moft neceffary Conrad with 
 
 all his forces croiTed the flraits.. 
 
 W^hile the Imperial army was advancing towards 
 Conffantinople , Lewis began his march. The 
 Roman pontiff had juft arrived in France , whom 
 he had confulted on the general bufmefs of the 
 crufade. Together they had vifited the relics of 
 St. Denys, where the king took from the altar the 
 facred banner , called Oriflamme, and his holinefs 
 then gave him his benedidlion , putting, at tlie 
 fame time , on his ffioulders the proper badge of 
 ii pilgrim, — . The army of France was iit nothing 
 
ABEILLARD AND IIELOISA. 19^ 
 
 inferior to that of the empire ; and its march was 
 profperous and unmolefted , till they entered the 
 Grecian territories. They advanced, however, 
 and came within fight of Conftantinople , about 
 the beginning of October, in 1147. 
 
 Notwithftanding the ambullies, the groundlefs 
 complaints, and the open attacks, by which his 
 army had been daily irritated. Lewis propofed an 
 interview with the emperor, and obtained it 
 They met at the Imperial palace in Conilantinople, 
 and if looks and geftures might be relied on , 
 never was meeting more fincere. They were both 
 about the age of twenty-five, both elegant, both 
 handfome, both affable, and were both magnifi- 
 cently appareled, one as a warrior, the other in 
 his Imperial robes. Manuel difplayed before the 
 king the riches of his palace , and the magnifi- 
 cence of his capital. He led him into the temple 
 of St Sophia ; he raviflied his ears with mufic , 
 and his tafle with the delicacies of the Eafl. In 
 this he could gratify his own vanity j he then 
 hinted , as the army had recovered from the 
 fatigue of their march, that it would be proper 
 they fhould purfue theirjourney.- Soon after it was 
 rumored that Conrad had gained a great vicfory, 
 and that the Eaft was fubmitting to his arms. 
 
 O 
 
 Lewis called a council of war. — It was tlie ge-.,- 
 neral opinion , that no more time fliould be loft. 
 The Germans, they faid, are reaping a fullharved 
 
 O 4 
 
 o o K 
 VI r. 
 
«200 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 HOOK of glory, and with it all the booty of conquered 
 VII. kingdoms. The king , however , hefitated : a large 
 detachment from his army was not yet come up, 
 and he had promifed to wait their arrival. Still 
 the cry was, that they fliould crofs the Hellefpont. 
 When Geoffrey, bifliop of Langres , a penetrating 
 and fhrewd man, whom the artifices of the Greeks 
 had not impofed on , and who , in the report now 
 circulated, faw their crafty defign , rofe in the af- 
 fembly, and faid ; “ Before we crofs the Hellefpont, 
 “ my friends , let us be mafters of Conftaiitinople. 
 “ Without this , all our attempts will be fuc- 
 ‘‘ cefslefs , and this army will perifh. V\^e mufl 
 “ depend on the Greeks for provifions , and we 
 mufi; depend on their guides in a hoRile and 
 ‘‘ imprafticable country. The fcheme I propofe 
 to you is neither chimerical nor difficult : I have 
 « myfelf examined the walls of the city , which 
 “ are weak and defencelefs : or , if you will , we 
 “ may feize on the aquedufts , which to them 
 “ are the very fources of exiftence. You have, 
 “ befides , a third option : meet them in the 
 “ plain,' and let thofe fchifmatics , debauched and 
 enervated as they are , feel what it is to contend 
 “ with men and with true believers. 
 
 Had the found advice been followed, it would 
 have been well for this devoted army ; but many 
 difficulties were raifed , and fome faid that, having 
 made a vow to bear their arms againfl the infidels. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. qoi 
 
 they were no longer at liberty to change their 
 deftination — They relblved to proceed; and, in 
 a few days , the whole army was landed in Afia. 
 
 Conrad , in the mean time , was advancing to 
 the awful period of deflrublion. Whatever obfta- 
 cles the malevolence of the Greeks could lay before 
 him , them he hourly experienced. They Ihut 
 their gates, they demanded an exorbitant price 
 I for bad provifions, and they cut off' the flrag- 
 gling foldiers. But now the difficulties thickened 
 I round him. He had left Nicomedia behind him, 
 and \vas in the enemy’s country. His guides , on 
 whom he was obliged to rely , led him forward , 
 with afl'urances that , in a few days , they fliould 
 1 fee before them the wide and fertile plains of 
 Lycaonia. The few days paffed. The foldiers were 
 worn down with fatigue, provifions failed them, 
 
 ; the country grew more imprafticable, and nothing 
 j met their eyes but mountains and never-ending 
 forefls , when news was brought , that the guides 
 had gone off in the night-time, and that the 
 fultan of Iconium with all his forces was coming 
 : down upon them. 
 
 : The barbarous cries of the enemy were foon 
 
 beared in the woods. Conrad rode through the 
 ; ranks of his army , and ftrove to raife their droop- 
 ing hearts. They formed into order, as well as the 
 nature of the country would allow, and prepared 
 to meet the coming ftorm. In a moment, the 
 
 O O 1C 
 VII. 
 
202 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK light-armed Saracens aflailed them on all fides ; 
 
 VII. they difcharged their arrows , with a fure and 
 unerring arm , and fuddenly wheeling round , 
 broke their ranks, and difappe^ed. But again they 
 turned to the charge. In vain did the brave Ger- 
 mans drive to come into adtion. Their armour 
 was cumbrous and unwieldy, and their horfes , 
 famifiied and broken down , had no chance with 
 the winged cavalry of the enemy. Hiey fell by 
 thoufands. Conrad feeing all was loft , attempted 
 to rally his men, and to retreat. He had been 
 wounded by two arrows. It was not poflible to 
 effedt it. Nor orders could be given , nor was his 
 voice beared. The barbarians came on in greater 
 numbers. He faw his floutefl men were fallen. In 
 this diftrefs , he fled , and was followed by a few 
 who had not quitted his perfon. Among thefe 
 was Frederic Barbarolfa. His baggage was left to 
 be plundered ; and the enemy completed their 
 work by a general daughter of what remained on 
 the field. It is faid that, before night, not a tenth 
 part of the hundred thoufand men who had feen 
 the fun rife , furvived the dreadful butchery ; and 
 
 thefe were difperfed or w’ounded The emperor, 
 
 however, efcaped, and got fafe to Nicea, at 
 which place tlie army of France had juft arrived. 
 
 It was a melancholy interview. — Here they 
 halted for fome days , that the wretclied remains 
 of the Imperial army might be colledled , and to 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 2o3 
 
 fettle the neceffary order of the march. Lewis, 
 young and impetuous, propofed to take the route 
 which had been fo fatal to Conrad ; but he at laft 
 liftened to more prudent counfels. They proceeded, 
 therefore, through Lydia , bearing towards the fea , 
 and arrived , without moleflation , at Ephefus. 
 Here the Emperor left them , and embarked for 
 Conhantinople. — In a valley , near Ephefus , the 
 army encamped , and celebrated , in martial form, 
 tlie feaft of Chriftmas. They then continued their 
 march towards Laodicea, and in a few days, arrived 
 on the banks of the winding Meander. 
 
 This river, to which poetry has annexed fo 
 many pleafing ideas, was then fwollen by the rains, 
 and the torrents of melted fnow which poured 
 down from the mountains. It was befides, at all 
 times , deep , and its banks were deep and rugged. 
 Here the enemy whofe fpies had watched the 
 progrefs of the chriffian army , divided into two 
 bodies, waited their approach. They covered the 
 hills on both fides the river. Lewis affembled his 
 generals : they faw the danger which threatened, 
 but unlefs they paffed the river, it was evident, 
 they muil; perilh by famine. The river was found 
 unfordable. For one whole day they marched 
 up its bank, at every flep galled by the arrows 
 of the enemy. On the fecond , they difcovered 
 a ford , but the oppohte landing was hardly prat5fi- 
 cable : however , they refolved to attempt it. The 
 
 BOOK 
 
 vir. 
 
(264 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Fing ordered the vdn to xidvance , and himfelf 
 Vll. took charge of the rear. They advanced. At the 
 fame inftant , the cloud broke from the hills , and 
 the enemy, like a torrent, defcended on bodi 
 fides : their cries were terrible , and their bows 
 were bent. The rear faced about: while the van, 
 led on by heroes, drew their fwords , and raifing 
 their bucklers over their heads , plunged into the 
 flream. They palled it, and gained the fteep afcent. 
 The enemy, whofe weapons had fallen without 
 eheft 5 retired in difniay , and the chriftians , 
 forming as they came up , advanced into the 
 
 plain Lewis , in the mean time, fword in hand, 
 
 had attacked the Saracens, who imprudently bore 
 down upon him , and having flaughtered and 
 difperfed them , he returned triumphant to the 
 
 river, and paffed it unmolefted A general attack 
 
 was now made on the camp of the enemy, which 
 they forced , and found it full of riches , and 
 
 well furnifhed with provifions It is remarkable 
 
 that only one man , Milo de Nogent , was loft on 
 this occafion. This furely was miraculous; and 
 hiflorians relate that a warrior , in filver armour , 
 headed the French through the river, and firft 
 affailed the enemy ! 
 
 The troops were ready to march the next 
 morning , and they left the Meander, proud in 
 the fuperiority of their ftrength , and prepared for 
 greater dangers. They arrived at Laodicea Not 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. sjo5 
 
 far from this place , on the road to Pifidia, through 
 which they meant to pafs , lay a ridge of moun- 
 tains , rugged and of very difficult afcent , and 
 behind them was a wide and fertile plain. Lewis 
 ordered the vanguard to take poffeffion of the 
 heights , and there to halt , till the rear and bag- 
 gage ffioLild have reached the fummit. They 
 afcended with alacrity ; but perceiving from the 
 top of the mountain that the fun was hill high, 
 and allured by the beauties of the plain below , 
 they deliberated on the propriety of advancing, 
 and refolved to proceed flowly onwards. 
 
 The infidels no fooner perceived the impru- 
 dent ftep , than with wonderful alertnefs they 
 availed themfelves of it, and haffening forward 
 on the ridge of the hills , were ready to take pof- 
 feffiori of the ground , almcft as foon as the van 
 began to defcend towards the plain. The rear, 
 in the mean time, fecure and confident, flowly 
 afcended the rugged eminence. Very foon they 
 were roufed by the well-known cry , and looking 
 up they difcovered the barbarous hoft, wffiich 
 occupied every defile , and hung upon the moun- 
 tain. There was no time for refle£lion. A ihower 
 of arrows brought inftant death, while the nearer 
 ranks advanced , and drew the cimeter. The brave 
 Frenchmen received the fudden fliockj but the 
 firft lines being flaughtered , or overwhelmed by 
 numbers . the next fell back , and a fcene of the 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
5o6 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK moR dreadful confufion enfued. All that the moft 
 VII. determined valor could do , was Rill attempted ; 
 the rear prefTed forward , but it was only to 
 certain deRrucRioii; the baggage-waggons obRrufted 
 their paffage, and where they found an outlet, 
 it was to meet the arrows and the fwords of the 
 enemy. In the confufion, however, many efcaped^ 
 and fome had the good fortune to join their 
 friends , who already had fixed their tents in the 
 plain. — Night fell. 
 
 The king till this moment, with a few brave 
 fellows by his fide , had withRood the dreadful 
 confli<R; when darknefs clofed round him, and 
 he found himfelf alone. In the heat of the engage- 
 ment, he had had the prefence of mind to order 
 his fecretary , Odon de Deuil , a monk , to get 
 round to the plain , and to inform the van of 
 the fituation of his army. He therefore hoped 
 that affiRance might foon be at hand. The wild 
 Ririeks of the vaunting enemy, the wailings of 
 the wounded , and the dying groans of men and 
 horfes , from all fides pierced his ears. Armed and 
 bleeding he climbed up a tree, and from thence 
 let himfelf down on the point of a rock, which 
 the little light that remained difcovered to him. 
 But the fame light foon betrayed him to a party 
 of the enemy. They attacked him; but his armour 
 was proof againfl their arrows, and his fword foon 
 damped the courage of thofe who dared to 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Q07 
 
 come within its reach. They knew iiim not to be 
 the king, and they left him — After fome time , he 
 again beared the tread of feet approaching 
 towards him ; but foon he perceived they were 
 friends : he made himfelf known , and coming 
 I down from the rock , mounted a horfe , which 
 : belonged to the party. Heaven hill protefted 
 
 * him. A while they wandered about, uncertain 
 which way to turn, and hemmed in by danger. 
 A patli prefented itfelf, which tliey followed, 
 and as day began to break, to their joy, they 
 difcovered the plain beneath them , and fooh 
 after met a detachment of the army , which 
 was coming to their affiftance. He entered the 
 camp. 
 
 This at leafl was a fortunate event. But 
 how was all their gladnefs faddened, when the 
 day difcovered the extent of their Ioffes ! Very 
 few joined the camp, and foon was it evident, 
 that all who were brave or diftinguifhed had 
 perillied or been made prifoners. Nor did the 
 evil flop here: their baggage was taken, their 
 provifions deftroyed , and their guides were dif- 
 perfed. The enemy befides , had recovered lieart 
 from the victory, and they might expe6l frefh 
 encounters and an increafe of difficulties. The 
 proud conquerors were feen hovering on the hills. 
 
 A council of war was fummoned. The king 
 propofed, as the danger which threatened wa? 
 
 j 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 book 
 
 vir. 
 
ao8 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK imminent and common , that no attention Ihould 
 VII. be longer paid to rank or office, but that he 
 ffiould be chofen to the command of the army , 
 whom experience and martial condu6f had bell 
 fitted to the important charge. “ I myfelf , faid 
 “ he , will let the firfl example of obedience : 
 “ whatever poll be allotted me , I will difcharge 
 “ it to the beft of my abilities,” — The propolition 
 was received with applaufe, and they chofe for 
 their general one Gilbert, a foldier of fortune, 
 whofe knowledge of the military art was in great 
 eflimation. The preffing danger gave unanimity 
 to their votes. Gilbert accepted the command. 
 He then chofe his fubaltern generals ; divided 
 the army into three bodies ; and allotted to each 
 general his port. The king was flationed in the 
 centre.— They began their march towards Pam- 
 phylia. 
 
 On the road lay two fwampy rivulets. The 
 enemy appeared in full force, prepared to difpute 
 the palfage. Gilbert ordered fome light fquadrons 
 to advance : they charged with fury. The Sara- 
 cens were thrown into diforder : and the chriftians 
 paffed the firfl rivulet. A general engagement 
 then enfued, in which the infidels were defeated, 
 and a great flaughter made. — From this time they 
 purfued their march without moleflation , but 
 in great want of provifions, and arrived at Attalia, 
 a town on the Mediterranean fea. Of fuch 
 
 importance 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 
 
 209 
 
 importance was difcipline , and a due fubordi- 
 nation to command. 
 
 At this place, the malevolence of the Greeks 
 was more glaring than ever. They were not 
 moved by the recital of the dangers , to which 
 the army had been expofed , nor by the fulfer- 
 ings they had undergone , nor by tlie flaughter 
 of their friends. They hrove to aggravate their 
 misfortunes by cruelty , and to add to their 
 diftrefs, by exadions the moft oppreflive : they 
 even refufed them the common neceffaries of 
 life — Lewis , with his generals , debated the 
 arduous bufinefs. The army was reduced more 
 than one halfj they were without horfes; the 
 foldiers were fpent with fatigue j the remaining 
 journey to Antioch would require at leaft forty 
 daysj hofts of enemies befet the whole route: but 
 by fea, three days might land them on a friendly 
 fliore. There was no room, it feemed , for 
 hefitation. They applied to the Greeks for tranf- 
 ports, who readily engaged to fuppply them ,• 
 but after hve weeks , very few were ready , and 
 thofe of the fmalleft conllru6lion. 
 
 Tlie army would fubmit no longer to this 
 irritating ufage. They fent to the king, to requeft, 
 that he and his nobles would make ufe of the 
 veffels which were ready, and that he would 
 permit them to purfue their march by land, and 
 join him at Antioch. They added, they would 
 
 Vot. II. P 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VU» 
 
aio HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK rather die by the fword of the enemy , than 
 yil. perifli ignobly by famine ; that they wiilied him 
 a profperous voyage ; that as to themfelves , 
 providence, they trufted , would be their guide; 
 and that, if they mull fall, it fhould be like 
 men and foldiers of Chrifl. 
 
 The prince was much affected. He referred 
 the matter to his council , who agreed that he 
 fhould accept the propofals of the army. Before 
 he left them, however, he negle 61 ed no mcafure 
 •which prudence and his own benevolent heart 
 could fuggeft, for their prefent relief , and future 
 fafety. He gave them two generals , prudent 
 and experienced officers ; he diftributed large 
 fums of money among tlie foldiers ; he obtained 
 guides for them from the governor of Attalia , 
 and the promife of an efcort , which was to con- 
 duct them as far as Tarfus in Cilicia ; and he 
 purchafed all the horfes , he could procure , for 
 the officers, and to convey the baggage. Moreover, 
 he obtained leave for the fick and wounded to 
 be lodged in the city , till they ffiould be in a 
 condition to travel ; and with his own eyes he 
 faw them properly diflributed. After this he 
 failed, and landed in the neighbourhood of 
 Antioch, through a perilous fea, and after three 
 weeks voyage. 
 
 The army, foon after tlie departure of the 
 feing , began their march. But hardly had they 
 
ABEILL ARD AND HELOISA, qii 
 
 loft fight of tlie walls of Attalia , when they were 
 met by the enemy, fluflied with new courage, and 
 bold from numbers. The chriftians withftood 
 their onfet , and repulfed them : “but they were 
 
 not in a condition to purfiie the flying enemy 
 
 The guides and efcort now waited on the generals 
 to inform them , that they could proceed no 
 further , that the feafon was too far advanced j 
 and that the infidels, they faw , were too power- 
 ful to be refifted by fuch inferior troops. No 
 intreaties could prevail. They font a meffenger 
 to the governor; but all they could obtain was, 
 that they might return, and encamp under the 
 walls , till an occafion offered for tranfporting 
 them elfewhere. Even here they were not fafe: 
 the Saracens daily annoyed them, and the citizens 
 refufed them common proteclion. They died 
 by thoufands. 
 
 Betwixt three and four thoufand refolute men, 
 unable any longer to bear fuch treatment, deter- 
 piined once more to attempt the journey. The 
 infidels allowed them, for fome days, to proceed 
 unmolefted. TJiey came to a broad and rapid 
 river; and here the enemy appeared. To pafs it 
 was impoffible, and to retreat was dangerous. 
 They debated for a moment, and in that moment 
 they were furrounded. Tlie general of the Sara- 
 cens advanced , and offered them peace and 
 the friendiliip of his people , if they would 
 
 P Q 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 eiQ 
 
 book renounce their religion and join his ftandardj 
 V^J. otherwife they mull lubmit to llavery. — The 
 brave men were Oioclced at the alternative; but as 
 the word Jlavery makes an impreffion we are the 
 leaft able to refill, theychofe the former, and bow- 
 ed their heads to the turban. - What remained of 
 ' the army at Attalia we hear no more of. 
 
 Raymond , uncle to the queen , as I have 
 faid , was prince of Antioch. When he beared 
 that Lewis was landed in his territories , .he 
 marched out, in great pomp, to meet him, and 
 conduded him to the city. He was received 
 with all the honors due to his perfon ; and the 
 endearing carelfes of Raymond and his nobles 
 feemed , for a moment , to Hill the troubles of 
 his agitated mind. He had a dillrefsful tale to 
 tell, of perfidious friends, of potent enemies, of 
 perilous adventures , and of routed armies, 
 Raymond had flattered himfelf, that he fhould 
 fee a triumpliant conqueror , who would bring 
 new glory to Antioch , who would llrengthen 
 his prefent territories, and help to extend them 
 by his arms. 
 
 Lewis , indeed , had lofl his army ; but in a 
 fliort time he had the comfort to fee himfelf 
 furrounded by a brilliant and martial train of 
 noblemen and knight' , part of whom had 
 accomp'''nied him and others had fince joined 
 his llandard. Thefe the prince of Antioch lavilhly 
 courted , and he propofed to the king to engage 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Ii5 
 
 in fome fplendid undertaking, wherein mi^ht be 
 difplayed the valor of hk brave Frenchmen, and 
 the chriftian caufe be promoted. The concjueft of 
 Aleppo , he faid , where refided a proud fultan , 
 would be a glorious achievement. This propofal 
 he urged with the moft flattering expreffions : 
 he accompanied tliem with prefents ; and the 
 queen joined her efforts to thofe of her uncle. 
 Lewis could not be prevailed on. He had a vow, 
 he faid, folemnly made to heaven, which could 
 only be difcharged at Jerufalem, and thither he 
 muff go. But there was another circumflance 
 very heavy on his heart, which rendered his 
 flay at Antioch daily more jaainful. This he 
 could not mention. 
 
 His queen, the elegant, the airy, the fprightly 
 Eleanor, had accompanied the army in all its 
 marches. She had figured in the gay court of 
 Conftantinople , liad feen the triumphant palfage 
 of the Meander , and fortunately was encamped 
 in tlic plain , during the difaftrous defeat on the 
 mountains. The fair pilgrim , it feems , had 
 found but little relifh in the perils and toils of 
 war. The king had a thoufand cares to engage 
 his attention ; and probably Hie had not found 
 him more agreeable under the helmet and in the 
 dufly plains of Alia , than fhe had thought him 
 in his own palace , with his cropt hair and fhaven 
 chin. By the advice of Peter Lombard, billiop 
 
 P 3 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
414 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book of Paris, who aiTured him that God detefted long 
 VII. hair, he had cut off the profane ornaments, 
 Eleanor rallied him for it ; when he obferved 
 that , plenfantry on fuch ferioiis fiibjeds was 
 very ill placed. “■ I was told, replied flie, that 
 “ I was to marry a prince ; but your Majefly , 
 
 “ I find , is a monk. ” In matrimony , contempt 
 and hatred are Very nearly allied. — During the 
 march, it does not appear, that flie had given 
 the king any caufe for complaint: but at Antioch, 
 when flie began to breathe , when flie looked 
 back on what flie had fuffered , and when gaiety 
 and pleafure courted her fmiles in their mofl: 
 alluring forms, Eleanor could not withfland their 
 impreflion ; flie thought , flie might juflly take 
 fome indulgence for pafl: difeomforts, and make 
 up for a year of ennui, — The prince, her uncle, 
 was her principal favorite , and a young i urk , 
 it is faid, named Saladin, beauteous and lovely 
 as the fon of Myrrha. — Eleanor was married in 
 her fifteenth year , and was now about the age 
 of twenty-four. 
 
 The king, naturally benevolent , mild , and 
 religious , felt more poignantly this ungiateful 
 treatment , which , he did not think , he had 
 deferved. Immediately he gave orders to his little 
 army to march , -and he fignified to the queen 
 that he expeTed fhe would be ready to accompany 
 him. This flie did not wifli to do ; and the prince 
 of Antioch , in concert with her , even dared 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ?i5 
 
 publicly to infult his majefty, hoping that, in 
 irritation of mind, he might retire precipitately, 
 and be fatisfied to vilit Jerufalem alone. l ewis 
 took the advice of his friends , who were of his 
 opinion , that the cjueen fliould , by no means, 
 be left behind , to diihonor lierfelf and difgrace 
 the majefly of her liufband. — Xhe nobility with 
 their men lay encamped without the walls. It 
 was agreed tliat , the next night, one of the 
 gates Ihould be kept open. The king compelled 
 Eleanor, who was not prepared for the adventure, 
 to accompany him , and all together they took 
 the road towards Jerufalem. — Here he found the 
 emperor Conrad, who, having wintered at Con-^ 
 hantinople, wasfirfl arrived, and waited his coming. 
 
 Jerufalem received him with every mark of* 
 i diflirudion. Its young king Baldwin , and his 
 I motlier Melifenda , w'ere delighted: they had 
 I appreliended , with fome reafon ,■ that the 
 intriguing and felfilli fpirit of Raymond might 
 have detained him at Antioch. 
 
 The ceremony of vifiting the holy places was 
 firft to be difcharged. This the king , with all 
 Ills followers , in folemn pomp , performed, 
 habited like pilgrims , and accompanied by the 
 prince of Jerufalem and his court. — Some expe- 
 dition, they then thought, Ihould be undertaken 
 againft the infidels , and a grand aflembly was 
 ordered to meet at Ptolemais. The day was fixed. 
 
 Palefline had not yet feen fo gorgeous a fliow''. 
 
 ft 
 
 I 
 
 O O 
 
 vm 
 
«i6 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK The emperor came with his attendant bifliop? ; 
 
 VII. and the cardinal legate , with Henry duke of I 
 Auhria, his brother j Frederick duke ofSuabia, 
 his nephew, witli many other powerful lords 
 and gentlemen. — Lewis was accompanied by 
 an equal number of biiliops , and by a cardinal 
 legate, by R.obert count of Drcux, his brother, 
 by Henry of Champagne , his fon-in-law , by 
 Thiery count of Flanders , and many other 
 diflinguifhed noblemen. — Baldwin of Jerufalem , 
 and his mother, were not lefs fplendidly attended. 
 
 It was debated , what was moft proper to be 
 done for the welfare of the chriftian republic in 
 Afia. Various meafures were propofed : but the 
 fiege of Damafeus was finally determined. The 
 conqucfl of this place, one of the moft confi- 
 dcrable in Syria , would at once give glory to 
 their arms , and be generally beneficial ; for 
 from hence the Saracens made daily incurfions 
 into the chriftian territories. — Orders were given 
 
 O 
 
 for the troops to march. They were divided 
 into three corps, commanded by their refpedlive 
 monarchs. The young king of Jerufalem took 
 the poll of danger: he willied to fignalize his 
 prowefs before his royal vifiters, and he led on 
 to the attack. 
 
 ' It is not my intention to detail the particulars 
 
 of this memorable fiege. The chriftians performed 
 feats of wonder ; nor were they lefs valiantly 
 oppofed. But when it feemed that the place 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. S17 
 
 tniift foon furrencler; whether by fome ftrange 
 fatality, or fecret treafon , or jealoufy among 
 the commanders, the befiegers were drawn olf 
 from that fide of the walls which could refift no 
 longer , and were direfted to mahe a frefli attack 
 on the oppofite quarter. — Here nothing coulij 
 fucceed. They were expofed to the darts of the 
 enemy ; the walls were flrong ; the fprings dried 
 up; and no forage could be found for the horfes. 
 In this extremity , the European princes refolved 
 to raife the fiege : they faw they were betrayed , or 
 that heaven , whofe battles they wiflied to fight , 
 was not difpofed to favor their romantic efforts. 
 
 The emperor foon after returned to Germany. 
 — Lewis remained in Palefline till the following 
 fpring, when he embarked for Calabria, vifited 
 Rome , and arrived in his own kingdom in 1 1 49 , 
 after an abfence of two years , worn down by 
 anxiety , and only rich in the reputation of having 
 engaged in a wild project, which could not have 
 ended more difaflroufly. — From this time, the 
 condition of the Oriental chriftians became daily 
 worfe. The infidels, feeing the fuccefslefs efforts 
 of numerous armies, laughed at the vain attempt ; 
 and on a nearer view , began to defpife thofe 
 mighty warriors , the bare mention of whofr 
 names had once filled them with terror **. 
 
 I have followed, in this account of the crufade» 
 Floury, Daniel, and Maimbourg , who had confultad the 
 beft fources. 
 
 O O It 
 VII. 
 
BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 Death and 
 chara£ler 
 ef Sugar. 
 
 *218 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 Thus have I defcribed the principal events up 
 to the year ii6o, and exhibited the general fea- 
 tures of the period , in church and hate. Little 
 elfe remains ; only as the reader has feen much 
 of Bernard, of Peter the venerable, and of Suger, 
 he may wilh to know how long they furvived 
 the tranfaftions I have related. They did not 
 long furvive. 
 
 Suger , abbot of St. Denis , and minifter of 
 Rate, died in ii 52 , a little more than two years 
 after the return of Jiis mafter from the holy land. 
 He had ffrenuoufly oppofed that mad expedition ; 
 but what chance had cool reafon and political 
 difcernment, againft the enthufiafm and wonder- 
 working powers of his friend and contryman , the 
 abbot of Clairvaux ? The kingdom he adminifter- 
 ed with prudence, firmnefs , and integrity. Great 
 as were the foreign expenfes , his mailer was 
 always fupplied with money, and the fubje6l 
 at home was not oppreffed. By every argument , 
 he ffrove to avert the fatal divorce betwixt Lew- 
 is and his queen; and as long as he lived, it 
 was not accompliflied. He faw the evils that 
 probably muft fall on his country , by permitting 
 fo large a territory, as was Eleanor’s dowry, to 
 be again fevered from the royal domain; but he 
 could not fee that , in the ftrff fix weeks, Ihe 
 would marry Henry of England. Suger was the 
 Sully of France in the twelfth century. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Q19 
 
 As abbot, his life was exemplary, and his 
 manners irreproachable. In the beginning of his 
 adminiftration, having found his monaftery iin- 
 difciplined and enervated, lie was himfelf, then 
 unufed to conventual regularity , carried down 
 the ftream: he was prodigal in his expenfes, fump- 
 tuous in his table , and in his drefs and attendants 
 gay and fplendid. In five years the gaudy fcene 
 was over. He reformed his abbey ; and was himfelf 
 the firft to fet the example of that rigid difcipline 
 and fevere morality, which alone give perfedion 
 to the rngnaftic infiitufe. Suger had formed a 
 plan of quitting every civil employment , and 
 was juft then retiring to St. Denys, when the 
 unanimous voice of the people called him to the 
 regency of the ftate. 
 
 He was of low extradion. His figure wanted 
 comelinefs , and his countenance dignity: but his 
 mental qualities were of a fuperior caft. His un- 
 derftanding was comprehenfive , his judgment 
 found , his memory prodigious , and his penetra- 
 tion intuitive. When he fpoke , there was grace 
 in his manner, and fluency in his expreflion ; nor 
 did any fubjedleem to him either new or embar- 
 raffing. Thefe qualities were ftill lieightened by 
 a modefty without afledation, and a gravity 
 without fternnefs. He was mild, beneficent, dif- 
 intercfted, and friendly. The king loved him as 
 his parent; the nobility refpeded his abilities; 
 
 o o K 
 VII. 
 
5 20 
 
 HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 book 
 
 VII. 
 
 Death and 
 cl),iracter of 
 Bernard. 
 
 ?nd the people adored his virtues. He died iil 
 his feventieth year. The king attended his fune- 
 ral, and wept over his bier. He has been called 
 the father of his country 
 
 The year following, in ii53, died alfo Ber- 
 nard , abbot of Clairvaux. — I have related enough 
 of his life , to convince the reader that he was 
 truly an extraordinary man. Thus does an emi- 
 nent writer , well qualified to appreciate merit , 
 (peak of him Bernard, fays he, I regard as 
 the prodigy of his age. — Heaven , it feemed , had 
 with pleafure , afremblecE in him alone , all the 
 endowments of nature and gi’ace. He was def- 
 cended from noble and virtuoTis parents. In his 
 perfon he was handfome , and his mind was 
 perfect. Sprightly and penetrating , he could 
 difcern with accuracy, and could judge with con- 
 fidence. His heart was generous , his fentiments 
 elevated, his refolution unfhaken, and his will ever 
 upright and ever conflant.— Nor had art negledted 
 to improve the work of nature. His education was 
 the belt which the age could give : early he had been 
 inftruded in religion, and in the human fciences. 
 With much icffedion he daily fludied the word 
 of God , and he read die holy fathers. In the- 
 pulpit he was animated and nervous ; but his 
 language was too flowery, though adapted to the 
 tafte of his hearers. Tlie fame defed pervades 
 
 Daniel, vol. iii. Fleury , Difc. g* 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. sai 
 
 his writiniTS. — We muft not forget that Bernard 
 was a faint; for his humility was profound, his 
 zeal ardent, his charity unbounded, and the gift of 
 miracles marked him for the favorite of heaven! — ^ 
 The portrait , perhaps , is too highly colored. 
 
 But if the hiftorian may be permitted to break 
 through that dazzling glare, which miracles and 
 his infpired air threw round him , he will difcc- 
 
 I ver fome fhades in the charafter of Bernard; and 
 
 I 
 
 1 where have we feen humanity without them? 
 
 They help to form its beauty He was auflere, 
 
 meddling, and acrimonious, zealous over much — - 
 His auflerity began with himfelf, and extended 
 I to others : when not called on he interfered in 
 1 the concerns of all men : he was bitter, and even 
 i abufive , againfl thofe he eheemed the enemies 
 of truth ; and we have beheld his zeal , precipitate 
 : and inflexible, till it had involved two kingdoms 
 in the moft difaftrous undertaking. When he was 
 ■ blamed as the author of thefe misfortunes , his 
 ' reply was ; that the judgments of heaven were 
 infcrutable, and that the fins of the crufaders 
 had brought ruin on their arms. But could he 
 think, when, in the plain of Vezelai, he inlifted 
 the banditti of France, that their hearts were con- 
 verted; or that the hundred thoufand Germans, 
 whom the fight of his miracles compelled to arms, 
 j would not be guilty of a hundred thoufand excef- 
 fes ? The conduft of the firfl crufaders had clearly 
 faid, what was to be expelled from fuch expeditions- 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 QQ^2 
 
 BOOK His afcendency over the minds of men, and his 
 VII. fway in the councils of Europe were aflonilliing. 
 From the retirement of his cell , in the vale of 
 Clairvaux, abflradled from the world, and con- 
 verfing with heaven , he waS’ called to the courts 
 of princes, to decide their quarrels , or to aid 
 them with his advice. Nor could it be faid, that 
 he was there difplaced or out of charader: his 
 own perforial confideration gave him a refpecl 
 above titles , and an influence which neither 
 years, nor abilities, nor olfice could beflow. — At 
 Rome , of whofe prerogative he was too lavHli an 
 admirer, Bernard was the foul of defign, and 
 the fpring of action. Never did the holy fee 
 poffefs a truer friend. Over Eugenius , who had 
 been his difciple , he retained an authority , 
 which, perhaps, was more honorable to the 
 fcholar, than the mafler. If Suger was lefs a 
 faint than Bernard, the former, I think, had a 
 founder judgment, was a better politician, a 
 more experienced minifler, and, perhaps, a more 
 
 ufeful citizen The abbot of Clairvaux died in 
 
 his fixty-third year, having founded and annexed 
 to his order, feventy-two monaileries in different 
 parts of Europe. The church , concludes Fleury, 
 “ honors his memory on the day of his death; 
 « and the learning, the zeal , the piety, wliich his 
 « writings difplay, have juflly given him a place, 
 « though the laft, among the fathers of the church. ” 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 
 
 Within three years from this time, in ii 56 , 
 expired the other luminary of France , Peter the 
 venerable. ■ - Already I have faid fo much of this 
 good man , and with a view of depiding his 
 charader, that more cannot be necelfary. For 
 thirty-five years he governed his order with 
 fmgular prudence, which then confifted of more 
 f than three hundred houfes , and two thoufand 
 dependent convents. The appellation of venerable 
 which he acquired , was not the confequence of 
 years; for he was chofen abbot in his twenty- 
 eighth year, and died in his fixty-third ; but it 
 was due to his grave deportment, to his exemplary 
 life, and to his great erudition. He entered little 
 into political bufmefs, only as far as the intereft 
 of Cluni was concerned. His abilities were lefs 
 brilliant than thofe of St. Bernard, his friend and 
 his admirer; but his fenfe was found, and his 
 judgment unbiaffed. Nature and her laws were 
 not obedient to his voice , for I do not find that 
 he worked any miracles; but his difpofitions were 
 mild, his heart benevolent, and his hand was 
 
 ever open to relieve the diftreffed He wrote 
 
 againft the Jews, and he engaged one Robert, 
 an Englifhman , archdeacon of Pampeluna in 
 Spain, well verfed in the Arabic language, to 
 tranflate the Koran of Mahomet into Latin. He 
 rewarded the tranflator munificently, and himfeff 
 Undertook to refute the abfurd rhapfody Peter 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 BOOK 
 
 VII. 
 
 Death of 
 t’eter the 
 venerable. 
 
HISTORY OF THE LIVES OF 
 
 a-24 
 
 BOOK Maurice, I have before obferved , was the laft 
 VII. celebrated man of his order , and with him fet 
 the fun of Cluni 
 
 Hardly, I think, can it be faid with propriety 
 that an age is dark, which poffeffed three fuch 
 men as I have now defcribed. Nor did they fland 
 alone. Others there were in Italy , Germany , 
 and England , not equally eminent ; but whofe 
 abilities were great, whofe learning was not con- 
 temptible , and whofe virtues were exemplary. 
 Thefe I would with pleafure exhibit, were not 
 the ground already too tliickly fet with objecls — 
 It is often the praftice of modern writers to 
 defcribe unfavorably , the charaHer of palled 
 times , either becaufe to blame is more congenial 
 with their humor than to give praife ; or becaule 
 they are led by the prejudices of others , which 
 they have not taken care to fliake olfj or becaufe 
 to copy fome favorite author is much lefs labo- 
 rious than to Rudy the original; or becaufe they 
 may fancy , that themfelves and the age they 
 live in, will appear more refplendent, in proporti- 
 on to the fhades which are thrown on tlie more 
 diftant objedl. At all events , the twilight of the 
 twelfth century ( for fuch at leaf! it may be 
 called ) was necelfary to prepare the rifing of 
 , that aufpicious day , whofe brilliant fplendor 
 ziQW furroimds us. With our pofierity, perhaps, 
 
 “ - Fleury , vol. xi/. xv. 
 
 it 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 225 
 
 it will be made a queftion , whether as yet we g ^ q 
 have pafled its dawn. 
 
 In the peaceful cloifters of the Paraclet , where Heioiia* 
 we had left Heloifa, there fhe itill was after a 
 period of twenty years. She had not engaged in 
 its turbulent fcenes: but from her cell file might 
 
 O 
 
 have contemplated their progrefs, and bewailed 
 their unfortunate exit. The death of Peter the 
 venerable would be a real lofs. — It may be remem- 
 bered that, in her correfpondence with Abeillard 
 on the origin and duties of the monaflic inflitute, 
 ihe had ftrongly urged the propriety of mitigating 
 its feverity in favor of women. Not then fo 
 fervent, or lefs warmed by that enviable enthu- 
 fiafm which can find delight in pain and felf- 
 denials , flie thought it reafonable to plead for 
 every innocent indulgence: was not the path of 
 life fufficiently befet with thorns ? And was the 
 traveller ivith his own liands to add to their 
 number? In procefs of time, as circumftances 
 altered , or as the cares of office , perhaps , foured 
 her mind, or as it hardened by age, Heloife 
 adopted a more rigid plan, the conftitutiuns of 
 which file herfelf framed , and introduced into 
 the rule of the Paraclet. The fubftance of thefe 
 conftiutions I will give to the reader : he may have 
 
 O ^ 
 
 beared much of nunSj and not know in whaft 
 pra Tices their lives are fpent. 
 
 VoL. n. 
 
 0 . 
 
qq6 history of the LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK Having obferved that all religious iiidrudlon 
 VII. mufl take its origin from Chrifl , who praftifed the 
 virtues of poverty, of humility, and of obedience, 
 Ihe proceeds. I — “ We flrive , as far as in us lies, 
 “ to imitate the lives of the firfl cliriflians j by 
 ‘‘ having all things in common. What is given to 
 “ us , that we divide as far as it will go. If there 
 “ be not enough for all, they are firfl ferved who 
 want it moft. ” 
 
 II — ‘‘ Our drefs is ordinary and fimple , made of 
 the coarfeft wool and flax — But in this , as in our 
 
 “ beds, if fometimes we have not all that may 
 feem necellary , let it be remembered , that we 
 ‘‘ have renounced the world and its conveniences.” 
 
 III — We eat the bread that is laid before us, 
 fometimes wheaten , and ibmetimes made of 
 
 “ other grain. In the refe£lory our common fare 
 “ is legumes , or fuch roots as the garden gives us. 
 “ Milk, eggs, and cheefe are rarely ferved ; and fifli 
 “ only when the kindnefs of our neighbours fup- 
 “ plies us. Our wine is mixed with wateiw At fup- 
 per only falad or fruit is allowed us ; and when 
 “ thefe fail, we bear it without murmuring. ” 
 
 IV. — “ Only the abbefs and priorefs have any 
 ‘‘ right to command. Without their permillion no 
 “ one can prefume to go out of the enclofure, or 
 “ to fpeak , or to give , or to receive , the 
 fmallefl trifle. ” 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. qq; 
 
 V “■ WoTiid onr ftrerigcli permit us; we Ihould 
 
 till our lands, and live by labor. But we cannot. 
 We therefore call in the aid of lay-brothers. 
 
 and lay-fiflei s Any alms , which the piety of 
 
 “ the faithful offers , we do not fefufe. 
 
 VI. — “■ W e rife before break of day, and proceed 
 
 to the church to matins After this, according 
 
 “ to tlie feafon of the year, either we retire , for 
 “ a Ihort time , to our beds , or we meet in the 
 “ chapter-houfe , to read or work. — When the 
 “ bell rings , we again go to church , where inime 
 “ is faid , and after that, the morning-majs— Ag:nn 
 “ we affemble in the chapter-houfe to confefs 
 " publicly our faults, and to receive corre£lion. 
 “ Here , on folemn feafts, a fermon is preached. — . 
 “ After chapter, if there be time, we read till 
 « tierce or nine o’clock. — Then follow high-mafs 
 and Jext , after which we read or work till none 
 
 ” or three o’clock At three we take our mealj 
 
 “ filent and recollected. — This finiflied, we return, 
 « giving thanks to God, to the church , and from 
 « thence to the chapter-houfe , where one of the 
 nuns , whole duty it is , makes a difcourfe to 
 
 “ the affembly If there be time, we then remain 
 
 “ in the cloifters till the liOur of vefpers. Thefe are 
 
 “ always fung After vefpers w'e return to the 
 
 “ cloiflers , where , in filence and meditation , we 
 « wait the hour of collation or fupper Aftec 
 
 o OK 
 
 VII, 
 
«q8 history of the LIVES OF 
 
 BOOK “ fupper , complin is fmig in the church, and we 
 VII. “ remain in prayer , till a fign is given , at which 
 “ all rife from their Inees; and then fprinlded 
 “ with holy water by the fiiperior, they proceed 
 ‘‘ in proceffion through the cloifters to the dor- 
 “ mitory, where each one turns to her bed, and 
 bleffing God, retires to reft " 
 
 Thus lived Heloifa and her nuns; and with 
 fome accidental variety , the fame continues to be 
 the rule of moft orders of religions women. It 
 is fevere and uninviting ; but the mind habitually 
 forms to any thing. The fortunate circumftance 
 is , that every moment of the day has its allotted 
 duty ; there is no time for idle fpeculation , and 
 confequently no time for the ingrefs of thofe 
 ideas, from which ennui, uneafmefs, and mifery 
 fpring. Their days flow uniformly on, but rapidly 
 from uniformity; the ftream is not ruffled, for 
 their defires are compofed , and their affe^Iions 
 even ; and they meet their laft hour with more 
 than philofophic fortitude : 
 
 To founds of heav’nly harps they die away, 
 
 And melt in vifions of eternal day. 
 
 While the abbefs had been laudably engaged 
 in new -modelling the internal government of 
 her convent , lire had not neglected its more 
 
 3T 
 
 Op. Abcil. p. 198. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 229 
 
 worldly concerns. I before mentioned the bulls 
 Ihe had obtained from Rome to confirm to the 
 Paracletfuch donations as had been madeto it. To 
 thefe afterwards fome very confiderable additions 
 were made , all which received the fame folemii 
 fandion. I find a bull of Eugenius , which fpeci- 
 fically mentions every acre of land and every 
 tenement, belonging to the abbey in 1147, one 
 of Anaftafius , and three of Adrian. The lattei! 
 feems particularly well-affedled to the Paraclet; 
 he fpeaks in high terms of the virtuous lives of 
 Heloifa and her fifters ; he grants them the petition 
 they had made for leave to bury within the pre- 
 cindls of the convent the bodies of their benefactors; 
 and he denounces the indignation of God and of 
 the holy apoftles againfi all thofe , who fliall dare 
 to infringe or to oppofe tlie letter of his man- 
 date Nothing more was neceffary to perfeCf 
 
 this eftablifliment, and to give it a ftabiiity whidi, 
 in the ordinary courfe of human events, might 
 lafl for ages. 
 
 It was now the year eleven hundred and fixty- 
 three , and Heloifa had entered into her fixty- 
 
 third year She fell fick Hiftory tells us not 
 
 what her diforder was, nor does it relate the 
 circumftances of her death. A more modern author 
 only fays that, when flie faw her end approaching^ 
 
 0 3 
 
 book 
 
 VII. 
 
 Her desth:. 
 
 Op. Abeil. p. 
 
23o history of the LIVES OF 
 
 book llie turned to her fifters , who Rood 'iveepincr 
 VII. round her ; exhorted them to fubmiffion and to 
 the pra6lice of every cliriftian vii tue ; and then 
 ordered that her body fiiould be laid in the 
 tomb by the fide of Abeillard 'S Soon after ilie 
 expired. It w:as on a Sunday , and on die. 
 feventeentli of May. 
 
 Her obfequies were honored by the moR 
 fplendid attendance of the nobility and clerg)^ of 
 the province: ^ folemn fervice was performed 
 for the repofe of her foul ; and her dying recjueffc 
 y/as faithfully executed. They faw the tomb 
 of Abeillard opened , which had been lliut for 
 twenty years, and in it were laid the cold remains 
 of the once lively , learned , religious , and 
 benevolent Heloifa. 
 
 I will not attempt to delineate her characler, 
 as it could only be a repetition of what , perhaps 
 I have already too much repeated. — On her 
 monument were engraved four lines, barbarous 
 and bad indeed ! 
 
 Hoc tumulo abbatilTa ja^’et prudens Heloiffa. 
 
 Paraclitum ftatuit , cum Paraclito requiefcit. 
 
 Gaudia fandiorum fua funt fuper alta polorum ; 
 
 Nos meritis precibufque fuis exaltet ab imis. 
 
 They vyill not bear to be tranflated. — To 
 Commemorate the learned abilities of Heloifa, it 
 
 Not. ^uercet. p. 1195. Vie d’Abeil. p. 521. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q 3 i 
 
 is faid that, for many years after her death , the 
 nuns of the Paraclet, at the feaft of Whitfu^tide , 
 performed the fervice of the day in Greek The 
 practice only ceafed , when the knowledge of the 
 language was lofl amongft them. 
 
 But in the courfe of fix hundred years , in the 
 different changes , which the repair of buildings 
 and other events have introduced , care has been 
 taken not to feparate their duff. In 1497 the tomb 
 was moved, and again in i 63 o , when the bones 
 of the lovers, if fo they may be called, were found 
 entire. They were diftinguifhed by their fize. 
 
 The abbey of the Paraclet feems ever to have 
 retained a great refpeft for the memory of their 
 illuftrious founders; though a traveller, who was 
 there , not many years ago , fays that the com- 
 munity knew little of the affecling part of their 
 ftory 'k — The late abbefs, of the houfe of 
 Rochefoucauld, in 1 766 , requefted fome gentle^ 
 men of the academy of Paris to compofe an 
 epitaph for their tomb. She was difguffed with 
 the barbarous lines that hitherto had marked the 
 ffone , where Abeillard and Heloifa lay. She did 
 not live to fee it executed ; but the epitaph was 
 written. Her fucceffor , I believe, the prefent 
 abbefs, Madame de Roucy , purfued the laudable- 
 
 Vie d’Abeil. p. 328. 
 
 Annual Regifter , anno 1768* 
 
 Q 4 
 
 O O K 
 VII. 
 
232 
 
 HISTORY, &c. 
 
 BOOK., defign, and on a marble Rone engraved the 
 VU. lollowing elegant infcription. 
 
 die 
 
 Sab eodem marmore jacent , 
 
 Hujus monafterii 
 Conditor, Petrus Abeillardus , 
 
 Et •■^bbatida prima , Heloifa ; 
 
 OHra Studiis , ingenio , amore , infauftis nuptiis 
 Et poenitentia ; 
 
 Nunc aeterna , quod Reramus , felicitate 
 Conjungi. 
 
 Petrus Abeillardqs obiit vigefima prima 
 Aprilis, Anno 1142: 
 
 Heloifa , decima feptima fllaii 1165. 
 
 Curis Caro!» de Roucy , Paracleti 
 AbbatilTae 
 I7“9- 
 
 IN E N G L I S H, 
 
 Here 
 
 Under tbe fanic ftone repofe 
 Peter Abeiilard, the founder. 
 
 And Heloifa, the firft abbsfs. 
 
 Of this monaftery. 
 
 Alike in difpcficions and in love, 
 
 They \yere once united in the fame puiTuits , 
 
 The lame fatal marrkige , and the fame repentance ; 
 
 And now , in eternal happinefs , 
 
 We truft, they are not divided. 
 
 Peter Abeillard died the tvventy-fi«ft of April, 1142 : 
 
 And Heloifa the feventeanth of Alay , 116}. 
 
THE 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 O F 
 
 ABEILLARD and HELOISA. 
 
 From the colledion of Amboife. 
 
 The letter of Aheillard to his friend ^ which gave 
 occafion to the following correfpondence ^ Jhould 
 properly have a place here: But , as the whole 
 fuhjiance of it is contained in the foregoing hiflorpy 
 and it is befides extremely long, I take the liberty 
 to omit it. They who have read the hiflory , will 
 not want it ; and they who have not, would be little 
 difpofed to read the tedious memoirs from which it 
 is taken. 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 HELOISA TO ABEILLARD. 
 
 A LETTER of confolation you had written 
 to a friend, my deareR Aheillard, was lately, as 
 by chance, put into my hands. The fuperferip- 
 tion, in a moment , told me from whom it came ; 
 and the fentiments I felt for the writer, compelled 
 
034 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 me to read it more eagerly, I had loft the 
 reality: I hoped therefore from his words, a 
 faint image of himfelf, to draw foms comfort. 
 But alas! for I well remember it, almoft every 
 line was marked with gall and wormwood. It 
 related the lamentable ftory of our converfion , 
 and the long lift of your own unabating fuf- 
 ferings. 
 
 Indeed, you amply fulfilled the promife you 
 there made to your friend , that, in comparifon 
 of your own , his misfortunes fliould appear as 
 nothing, or as light as air.— -Having expofed the 
 perfecutions you had fuffered from your mafters , 
 and the cruel deed of my uncle , you were 
 naturally led to a recital of the hateful and in- 
 vidious condu6l of Albericus of Reims , and 
 Lotulphus of Lombardy. By their fuggeftions , 
 your admirable work on the Trinity was con- 
 demned to the flames , and yourfelf were thrown 
 into confinement. This you did not omit to 
 mention. The machinations of the abbot of St. 
 Denys , and of your falfe brethren , are then 
 brought forward; but chiefly, for from them you 
 had moft to fuffer , the calumnious afperfions of 
 thofe falfe apoftles , Norbert and Bernard , whom 
 envy had roufed againft you. It was even , you 
 fay, imputed as a crime to you, to have given 
 the name of Paraclet , contrary to the common 
 pra£lice , to the oratory you had eredled. In 
 fine, the inceflant perfecutions of that cruel 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q35 
 
 tyrant of St. Gildas and ofthofe execrable monks, 
 whom yet you call your children , and to which. , 
 at this moment , you are expofed , clofe the 
 melancholy tale of a life of forrow. 
 
 Who , think you , could read or hear thefe 
 things , and not be moved to tears ? What theii 
 muft be my fituation ? The fingular precifion , 
 with which each event is related , could but 
 more ftrongly renew my forrows. I was doubly 
 agitated 5 becaufe I perceived the tide of danger 
 Avas flill rifmg againfl; you. Are we then to 
 defpair of your life ? And muft our breafts , 
 trembling at every found , be hourly alarmed by 
 the rumors of that terrible event? 
 
 For Clirift’s fake, my Abeillard, and he, I 
 truft, as yet protects you, do inform us, and 
 that repeatedly , of each circumftance of yonr 
 prefent dangers. I and my fifters are the foie 
 remains of all your friends. Let us , at leaft , 
 partake of your joys and forrows. The condolence 
 of others is ufed to brinw fome relief to the 
 
 - o • • • • . 
 
 fuffererj and a load laid on many flioulders is 
 more eafily fapported. But fliould the ftorm 
 fubfide a little, then be even more felicitous 
 to inform us , for your letters will be meffengers 
 of joy. In fliort, whatever be their contents, to 
 ns they muft always bring comfort; becaufe 
 this , at leaft , they will tell us , that we are 
 remembered by you. 
 
 How pleafmg are the letters of abfent friends j. 
 
m T H E L E T T E R s O F 
 
 Seneca , I remember , teaches us by his own 
 example. “ I thank you, fays he to his friend 
 Lucilius, for your frequent letters. By this 
 « you do all you can to be in my company. 
 The moment I open your letters, I fee Lucilius 
 before me.” And, indeed , if the portraits of 
 our friends can give us pleafure , and eafe the 
 pain of abfence , by the weak imprelhons they 
 make ; what may not be faid of letters , which fpeak 
 the genuine fentiments of the dear abfent friend ? 
 — God be thanked ! no invidious paffion can forbid, 
 and no obflacle can hinder this manner of your 
 being prefent with us. On your fide let no 
 indifference, I pray, be a retardment to it. 
 
 You wrote to your friend a long epiflle , and 
 to alleviate his misfortunes yon recounted your 
 own. By this too plain narration , intended for 
 his comfort , you have added much to our 
 forrows. The hand which poured balm into h’S 
 Vv^ounds , only ferved to widen ours; it even 
 added fome frefli gafhes to our long-bleeding 
 bofoms. And will you who are fo anxious to 
 eafe the pain , which other hands have given , 
 refufe to heal the wounds yourfelf have made ? 
 You complied , I own , with the defires of a 
 friend and of a fellow-creature; and in fo doing, 
 the great duties of friendfliip and of fociety were 
 fulfilled : but to us , Abeillard , you are 
 
 bound by a ffronger tie. We are not your 
 friends only and your fellow-creatures ; the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q3; 
 
 tenderefl affeflions have united us , for the 
 inhabitants of the Paraclet are your daughters. 
 Even, if nature or religion can fuggeft a more 
 tender name , to that we are entitled. 
 
 To prove this, no arguments are neceffary. Even 
 were we filent , the walls of our monaftery would 
 proclaim it. Under God , you alone were the 
 founder of this place; you alone ereTed its 
 oratory ; and you alone eftablifhed its congregation. 
 You raifed nothing upon the foundations of 
 others. Whatever the eye fees is your ere£lion. 
 This folitude , the retreat of wild beafls , and the 
 receptacle of thieves, had not known the habita- 
 tions of domeftic life. But you, on the very 
 dens of thofe beafls , and in the lurking holes of 
 robbers , where the name of God had not been 
 heard, raifed a temple to his name, and you 
 dedicated it to his Holy Spirit. To this the donations 
 of kings or princes did not contribute : you wanted 
 not their alhftance ; for your own powers were 
 great and ample. From all quarters an almofl 
 infinite number of fcholars was feen crowding to 
 be inflruded by you. They fupplied whatever 
 ! elfe v/as neceffary. Even churchmen , who had 
 been ufed to live on the benefactions of others ; 
 whofe hands were ever open to receive but not 
 to give; became here profufe, and even impor- 
 tunate to pour in their contributions. 
 
 Our new eftablifhnaent , therefore, is ftri£lly 
 
23S the letters of 
 
 yours. But , can the young plailt profpcr , if it 
 "be not often watered with peculiar care? We are 
 women. Abeillard, by nature weak and delicate. 
 Thus, had our fociety been long fotmedj it would 
 Bill be expofed to much danger. But now, if 
 you give us not all your care and all your 
 diligence , how fliall we brave the harm ? 'The 
 apollle fays : ‘‘ I have planted , Apollo has 
 
 watered, but God has giverl the increafe. ” He 
 is writing to the Corinthians , whom he had 
 lately converted to the chriftian faith : his own 
 difciple Apollo, had then given them further 
 inftru£lions ; and divine grace had completed 
 the work. But you cultivate a vineyard , which 
 you have not planted; and your faCred admoni- 
 tions are loft on an ungrateful foil. I fpeak of 
 the monks of St. Gildas , of wliich you are abbot. 
 Kather recollegi then what you owe tO us. Yon 
 preach to them, but you preach in vain. Your 
 words are pearls which you throw to fwine. 
 The treafures , which are loft on them , ftiould 
 be kept for us , who are docile , who are 
 obedient. And you , who are fo prodigal to your 
 enemies, do refledl on what you owe to your 
 own children. — But I will fay nothing of others ; 
 think only how much you are indebted to me. 
 Whatever obligations bind you to the devout 
 part of my lex , are all concentered in your 
 Heloifa. 
 
 You need not be told, how many treatifes. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q 3 q 
 
 the holy fathers of the church have written fot 
 our inftru6iion , and how earneftly they have 
 labored to inform , to advife , and to confole 
 us. Mufl my ignorance fuggeh knowledge to 
 the learned Abeillard ? — Long ago, indeed, 
 when my mind was weak in the firft impreffions 
 of duty, your negle(R of me furprifed me riot a 
 little. Neither moved by religion, nor by love 
 ' for me, nor by the example of the holy fathers^ 
 did you ever aim to fix my flu6luating mind: 
 not even when long grief had worn me down, 
 j did you come to fee me, or eVen fend me one 
 i line of comfort. Yet , furely after the bond of 
 matrimony had cemented our union , your obli- 
 gations to me became more binding. Who doe& 
 not know how immoderate was the love I bore 
 you ; and from thence have I no pretenfions to 
 a peculiar return? 
 
 My Abeillard, you well know how much I 
 loft in lofing you : and that infamous a£l; of 
 treachery, whi^h, by a cruelty before unheard 
 of, deprived me of you, even tore me from 
 I myfelf. The lofs was great indeed , but the 
 ; manner of it was doubly excruciating. — When 
 ' the caufe of grief is moft pungent , then ftiould 
 confolation apply her ftrongeft medicines. But it 
 is you only can adminifter relief; by you I was 
 wounded, and by you I muft be healed. It is in 
 your power alone to give me pain , to give 
 me joy , and to give me comfort. And it is 
 
240 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 you only that are obliged to do it* — I have 
 obeyed the laft tittle of all your commands ; and 
 ib far was I unable to oppofe them , that , to 
 comply with your wilhes , I could bear to 
 facrifice myfelf One thing remains ^ which is 
 Rill greater 5 and will hardly be credited: my 
 love for you had rifen to fuch a degree of phrenzy, 
 that to pleafe you , it even deprived itfelf of 
 what alone in the univerfe it valued , and that 
 for ever. No fooner did I receive your commands * 
 than I quitted at once the habit of the world ^ 
 and with it all the relu(dance of my nature* I 
 meant that you fliould be the foie poffefibr of 
 whatever I had once a right to call my own* 
 Heaven knows ! in all my love it was you ^ 
 and you only I fought for* I looked for no 
 dowry, no alliances of marriage* I was ever! 
 infenfible to my own pleafures : nor had I a 
 will to gratify. All was abforbed in you. I call 
 Abeillard to witnefs. — In the name of wife there 
 may be fomething more holy , fomething more 
 impofmg; but the name of mljlrefs was ever to 
 me a more charming found — The more I 
 
 O 
 
 humbled myfelf before you , the greatet right 
 1 thought, I fliould have to your favor j and 
 thus alfo I hoped., the lefs to injure the fplendid 
 reputation you had acquired. 
 
 This circumllance , on your own account, yoii 
 did not quite forget to mention in the letter to 
 
 your 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Q41 
 
 your friend. You related alfo fome of the argu- 
 ments I then urged , to deter you from that 
 fatal marriage ; but you fiippreffed the greater 
 part , by which I was induced to prefer love to 
 matrimony, and liberty to chains. I call heaven 
 to witnefs ! Should Auguftus , mafter of the 
 world , offer me his hand, in marriage, and 
 fecure to me the uninterrupted command of the 
 univerfe , I lliould deem it at once more eligible 
 and more honorable to be called the miftrefs of 
 Abeillard, than the wife of Ccefar. The fource 
 of merit is not in riches or in power: thefe are 
 the gifts of fortune 5 but virtue only gives worth 
 and excellence. 
 
 The woman , who prefers a rich to a poor man , 
 ffiows flie has a venal foul. In a hufband , it is 
 his wealth , and not himfelf , which ffie admires 5 
 and to her, who marries with this view, fome 
 reward may be due , but no gratitude. It is 
 clear that I have not mifconftrued her intentions: 
 propofe but a richer match and if not too late , 
 Ihe will embrace it with ardor. The truth of 
 my opinion the learned Afpafia has confirmed, 
 in a converfation with Xenophon and his wife, 
 as related by yEfchines the difciple of Socrates. 
 When to effe6t a reconciliation betwixt them, 
 file had propofed this reafoning , Afpafia thus 
 concludes: When you have got fo far, as 
 
 mutually to be convinced that there lives not a 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 R 
 
THE LETTERS OF 
 
 545 
 
 “ better man, and a more fortunate woman, all 
 “ your thoughts will be direfted to produce the 
 “ greateft good : Xenophon will be happy in 
 the reflection that he is married to the beft 
 “ of women , and Ihe , on her fide , that her 
 “ hufband is the befl of men. ” 
 
 Thefe fentiments are beautiful : they feem the 
 production rather of wifdom herfelf, than of 
 philofophy. — But in the married flate , fliould 
 this favorable opinion be even grounded on error, 
 how charming is it to be thus deceived ! It pro- 
 duces love, and on this refls the furefl pledge of 
 mutual fidelity ; while purity of mind co-operates 
 far more efficacioufly than her fifler virtue. 
 
 But that happinefs which in others is , fome- 
 times, the effecl of fancy, in me was the child 
 of evidence. They might think their hufbands 
 perfeCl, and were happy in the idea; but I knew 
 that you were fuch , and the univerfe knew the 
 fame. Thus the more my afl’e6lion was fecured 
 from all poffible error , the more fleady became 
 its flame. Where was found the king or the 
 philofopher that had emulated your reputation ? 
 Was there a village, a city, a kingdom, that did not 
 ardently wifli even to fee you ? When you appeared 
 in public, who did not run to behold you ? 
 And when you withdrew, every neck was flretched, 
 every eye fprang forward topurfue you. The 
 married and the unmarried women , when 
 AbeiUard was away , longed fpr his company ; 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Q43 
 
 and, when he was prefent , every bofom was on 
 fire. No lady of diftindion , no princefs , that 
 did not envy Heloifa the poflelfion of her 
 Abeillard. 
 
 You poffeffed , indeed, two qualifications j a 
 tone of voice, and a grace in fiiiging, which gave 
 you the control over every female heart. Thefe 
 potVers were peculiarly yours; for I do iiot know 
 that they ever fell to the fhare of any other phi- 
 lofopher. To foften, by playful amufement, the 
 ftern labori of phildfophy, you compofed feveral 
 foniiets on love, and on fimilar fubje^fs. Thefe 
 you were often heard to fing , when the harmony 
 of your voice gave new charms to the expreffion. 
 In all circles nothing was talked of but Abeillard. 
 even the moll ignorant, who could not judge of 
 compofition , were enchanted by the melody of 
 your voice. Female hearts were unable to refill 
 the impreffion. Thus was my name foon carried 
 to diftant nations , for the loves of Heloifa and 
 Abeillard were the conftant theme of alt your 
 fongs: What wonder, if I became the fubjed of 
 
 general envy ! 
 
 You poffeffed, befides , every endowment of 
 mind and body. But alas! if my happinefs then 
 railed the enVy of others , will they not now be 
 compelled to pity me? And furely, even flie, 
 who was then my enemy , will now drop a tear 
 at my fad reverfe of fortune. 
 
244 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 You know, Abeillard, I was the great caiife of 
 your misfortunes ; but yet I was not guilty. It 
 is the motive witli wliich we ad , and not the 
 event of things that makes us criminal. Ecjuity 
 weighs the intention , and not the mere adions 
 we may have done. — What , at all times , were 
 my difpofiticns in your regard, you, who knew 
 them, can only judge. To you I refer all my 
 adions , and on your decilion I reft my caufe. 
 I call no other witnefs. 
 
 But how has it happened , teV me , that , after 
 my retreat from the world, which was your own 
 work , I have been fo forgotten or fo negleded , 
 that you never came either perfonally to recreate 
 my folitude, or ever wrote to confole me? If 
 you can, account for this condudj or I mull 
 tell you my own fufpicions, which are alfo the 
 general fufpicions of the world. It was paffion , 
 Abeillard , and not friendfliip that drew you to 
 me it was not love, but a more bafe propenlioil 
 The incitements to pleafure removed , every 
 other more gentle fentiment , to which they 
 might feem to give life , has vanifhed with them. 
 
 This, my friend, is not fo much mine, as the 
 general conjedure; It is the common fufpicion 
 of all who know us. Would to God , it were I 
 only who thought it; and that your own love 
 could devife fome excufe which might eafe my 
 pain! Were it in my power, even 1 would 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 245 
 
 willingly invent fome pretext, which by feeming 
 to lefiTen the pretenfions I have to your notice , 
 might extenuate your fault. 
 
 Do attend to my requeft, and, I think, you 
 will find it moderate and eafy to be complied 
 with. I am not to have the happinefs of your 
 company ; give me therefore what elfe you can. 
 I afk but a few lines j and can you , who are fo 
 rich in words, refufe me that faint image of 
 yourfelf? What reafon have I to expedl you will 
 be more liberal in things of confequence , if 
 even you fliow yourfelf niggardly in a few words 
 — . Having, as I faid, complied with all your 
 injundlions , I thought , indeed , I had great 
 pretenfions to your efleem. Even at this moment 
 I am a vi£lim to your will. It was not religion 
 that called me to the aufterities of the cloifler : 
 I was then in the bloom of youth : but you 
 oj:dered it, and I obeyed. For this facrifice, if I 
 have no merit in your eyes ; vain indeed is all 
 my labor! From God I can look for no reward, 
 for whofe fake , it is plain , I have as yet done 
 nothing. When you had refolved to quit the 
 world , I followed you , rather I ran before you. 
 It feems you had the image of the patriarch’s wife 
 before your eyes : you feared I might look back, and 
 therefore before you could furrender your own 
 liberty, I was to be devoted. In that one inftance, 
 I confefs, your miflruft of me tore my heart: 
 
 R 3 
 
246 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 Abeillard , I bliifhed for yon. For my part , 
 Heaven knows ! had I feen you haftening to per- 
 dition, at a fingle nod, I lliould not have hefitated 
 to have preceded , or to have followed you. 
 My foul was no longer in my own poffeflion. It 
 was in yours. Even now, if it is not with you, 
 it is no where. It cannot exifl without you. But 
 do receive it kindly. There it will be happy, if 
 it find you indulgent; if you only return kindnefs 
 for kindnefs, trifles for things of moment, and a 
 few words for all the deeds of my life. Were 
 you lefs fure of my love , you would be more 
 folicitous. But becaufe my condudl has rendered 
 you fecure , you neglegi me. Once more recoi- 
 led what I have done for you , and how much 
 you are indebted to me. 
 
 While together we enjoyed the pleafures which 
 love affords , the motive of my attachment was 
 to others uncertain. The event has proved , on 
 what principles I flarted. To obey you , I 
 f^crificed all my pleafures. I referved nothing, 
 the hope only excepted , that fo I fliould become 
 more perfedly yours. How unjufl then is Abeil- 
 lard , if, as my deferts increafe , he make the 
 lefs return ! I alk but trifles , and trifles which 
 require no labor to be complied with. 
 
 By that God then , to whom your life is 
 confecrated, I conjure you, give me fo much of 
 yourfelf , as is at your difpofal , that Is, fend me 
 fome lineg of confolation. Do it with this defign at 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA 24; 
 
 leafl: , that , my mind being more at eafe , I may 
 ferve God with more alacrity. Wlien formerly the 
 love of pleafure ^va3 your purfuit , how often did 
 I hear from you In your fongs the name of 
 Heloifa was made familiar to every tongue ; it 
 was beared in every ftreet, the walls of every 
 houfe repeated it. With how much greater pro- 
 priety might you no^v call me to God , than you 
 did then to pleafure. Weigh your obligations: 
 think on my petition. — I have written you a 
 long letter, but the conclufion lliall be fliort, — - 
 My only friend, Farewel. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 ABEILLARD to HELOISA. 
 
 I F fince our converfion from the world to God, 
 I have not written to confole , or to admonifli 
 you , it was not the effe£l of indifference. Afcribe 
 it to the high opinion , I have ever entertained 
 of your wifdom and prudence. How could I 
 think , that fhe ftood in need of my afliftance , 
 to whom heaven had fo largely diftributed its 
 befl gifts ? You were able , I knew , by example 
 as by word , to inftrudl the ignorant , to comfort 
 the pufillanimous , and to admonifli the lukewarm. 
 
 When priorefs of Argenteuil , thefe duties , I 
 remembe^, you ufed long ago to pradife : and 
 
 R 4 
 
248 the letters OF 
 
 if now you give the fame attention to your 
 daughters, as you did then to your fifters , more 
 is not requifite ; and all that I could fay would 
 be of no value. But if, in your humility , you 
 think otherwife , and that my inflruifions can 
 avail you any thing ; tell me only on what 
 fubje£fs you would have me write, and , as God 
 fliall dire61 me , I will endeavour to fatisfy you. 
 
 I thank God that, exciting in your breafls an 
 anxious folicitude for the conflant and imminent 
 dangers to which I am expofed , he has taught 
 you to fympathize with my fuflerings. Thus may 
 I hope for the divine protedfion by your prayers, 
 and foon fee Satan bruifed under my feet. It is 
 with this view that I haflen to fend you the form 
 of prayer , you fo earneflly requefted , you , my 
 fifler , once dear to me in the world , but now 
 mofl dear to me in Chrifl. By this means, you 
 will offer to God a conflant facrifice of prayers , 
 urging him to pardon our great and manifold 
 fins , and to avert the hourly dangers which 
 threaten me. 
 
 Many examples attefl, how powerful before 
 God and his faints are the prayers of the faithful ; 
 but chiefly of women for their friends , and of 
 wives for their hufbands. In this view the apoflle 
 admonifhes us to pray without intermiffion. — 
 {He then goes on to prove this efficacy of prayer^ 
 from the holy fcriptures , inffiing particufarly on the 
 
I 
 
 ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 249 
 
 . 
 
 
 examples of holy women : he tells her how much he 
 confides in the prayers of the nuns of the Paraclet , 
 and in her own, to which as her hufband he claims 
 a peculiar right. ) 
 
 But I will not infill on the fupplications of 
 your fiflerhood , day and night devoted to the 
 fervice of their maker ; to you only I apply. I 
 well know how powerful your interceffion may 
 be ; and , in my prefent circumflances , I truft , 
 it will be exerted. In your prayers then , ever 
 remember him, who, in a particular manner, is 
 your’s. Urge your entreaties, for it is juft you Ihould 
 be beared. An equitable judge cannot refufe it. 
 
 When formerly I was with you, you recolle 6 l , 
 my dearHeloifa, how fervently you recommended 
 me to the care of Providence. Often in the day a 
 particular prayer was repeated for me. — Removed 
 as I now am from the Paraclet, and involved in 
 greater danger, how much more preffing are my 
 wants ! Now then convince me of the fmcerity 
 of your regard. I entreat, I implore you. — ( Then 
 comes the prayer, to be faid for himfelf, which 
 I have elfewhere copied. ) 
 
 But if, by the permiftion of heaven, my ene- 
 mies fliould fo far prevail as to take away my 
 life ; or if , by any chance, I ftiould be numbered 
 with the dead ; it is in my prayer that my body 
 be conveyed to the Paraclet. There my daughters, 
 or rather my fillers in Chrift , turning their 
 
25o the letters of 
 
 ^yes often to my tomb , will more ftrongly be 
 excited to petition heaven for me. And , indeed , 
 to a mind penetrated with grief, and ftricken by 
 the dark view of its crimes, where can be found 
 a refting- place, at once fo fafe, and lb full of 
 hope , as that which , in a peculiar manner , is 
 dedicated to, and bears the name of, the Paraclet, 
 that is , the Comforter ? Befides , I know not 
 where a Chriflian could find a better grave , than 
 in the fociety of holy women, confecrated to 
 God. They , as the Gofpel tells us , attended the 
 interment of their divine mafter, they embalmed 
 his body with precious perfumes , they followed 
 him to the monument, and there they watched 
 in anxious folicitude. In return, they were con- 
 foled with the firfl angelic apparition, announcing 
 his refurreblion , and many fubfequent favors 
 were conferred upon them. To conclude, it is 
 my moft earnefl reqqeft that the folicitude you 
 now too ftrongly feel for the prefervation of my 
 life 5 you will then extend to the repofe of my 
 foul. Carry into my grave the fame degree of 
 love you Ihowed me when alive , that is , never 
 
 forget to petition heaven for me in your prayers 
 
 Heloifa , live and farewell — Farewel , my 
 fillers : live, but let it be in Chrifl ! — Remember 
 Abeillard ! 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q5i 
 
 LETTER HE 
 
 HELOISA TO ABEILLARD. 
 
 J[ AM furprifed, my deareft Abeillard, that,’ 
 contrary to the ufual Byle of epiftolary corref- 
 pondence , and even contrary to the obvious 
 order of things, you would prefume, in the very 
 front of your falutation , to put my name before 
 your own. It was preferring a woman to a man, 
 a wife to her hufband , a nun to a monk and a 
 prieft, and a deaconnefs to an abbot — Decency 
 and good order require that , when we write to 
 our fuperiors or our equals, the names of thofe 
 to whom we write , fhould have the firft place. 
 But in writing to inferiors , they are firft men- 
 tioned who are firft in dignity. 
 
 It was alfo to us a fubjecft of much aftonifliment 
 that , at the moment we expelled confolation 
 from you, then was our forrow to be augmented. 
 You ftiould have dried our tears; but you rather 
 chofe to make them flow in larger ftreams. For 
 which of us with dry eyes could read thofe con- 
 cluding words of your letter: “ But if, by the 
 “ permiftion of heaven, my enemies fhould fo 
 far prevail as to take away my life? ” See. 
 Oh, Abeillard! how could your mind fuggeft: 
 fuch ideas ; how could your hand write them ? 
 
25 - T II E L E T T E R s OF 
 
 No, no; God cannot fo far forfake his fervants ^ 
 as to perpetuate our lives , when you are gone. 
 He will not give us that kind of exiftence , which 
 is ten times worfe than death. It belongs to 
 you to celebrate our obfequies , and to commend 
 our fouls to God. It is you who afiembled us 
 here in his name : you muft firfl difpofe of us ; 
 then, no longer anxious on our account, and 
 more fecure of our falv'ation , you may follow 
 us with more alacrity. 
 
 In future , do , Sir , be more guarded in your 
 expreffions. Already, alas! we are wretched 
 enough. Why hiould you make us more fo ; 
 why, before the hour, deprive us of that poor 
 life we drag along with \ difficulty ? Each day is 
 fufficiently loaded with its own mifery ; and that 
 laft fatal one , covered with a robe of bitternefs , 
 will bring to each of us , an ample ffiare of 
 forrow. “ Why then , fays Seneca , fliould we 
 run in quell of evils , and die before our day?” 
 
 You requeft, Jliould your death happen, while 
 abfent from us , that your body be conveyed to 
 the Paraclet : P or thus you think , with your 
 image ever before us , to derive greater benefit 
 from our prayers. Do you then imagine we can 
 ever forget you ? Or will that be a feafon for 
 prayer, when general conflernation lhall have 
 banifhed every tranquil thought: when reafon will 
 have loft its fway ; and the tongue its utterance : 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q53 
 
 when the mind , in frantic rage , rebelling againft 
 its malcer , will not feek to pacify him by fiip- 
 plications , but rather to provoke his anger by 
 complaints ? On that fad day our foie occupation 
 (. will be to weep , but not to pray. We iliall 
 I follow you : we fiiall run into the grave with you. 
 
 ! How then are we to perform your laft melancholy 
 
 I rites? With you having lofl the fupport of our 
 lives , what will remain for us but death ? God 
 grant that day may be our lafl!— If the foie mention 
 I of your death thus ftrikes us to the heart- what 
 
 i will not the reality do? It is our prayer to 
 heaven , that we may not furvive you that we 
 may never have to perform that office , which we 
 expedl from your hands. 
 
 I Again let me entreat you to be more con- 
 I fiderate for the fafe of us all: at lead, on my 
 I account, do refrain from all expreffions which, 
 
 j like the ffiafts of death, penetrate my foul The 
 
 I. mind, worn down by grief is a ftranger to repofe: 
 I plunged in troubles it is little able to think on 
 God. To him you have devoted our lives - and 
 ^ will you impede his fervice? It were to be 
 wiflied that every neceffary event, which brings 
 forrow with it, might take place when leaf! 
 expelled : for what cannot be avoided by human 
 
 i forefight , when permitted to torment us , only 
 raifes unavailing fears. Full of this thought the 
 I poet Lucan thus petitions heaven ; 
 
S5t THE LETTERS OF 
 
 Sit fubltum quodcunque paras ; fit casca futuri 
 
 Mens hominum fati : liceat fpcrare timenti ! 
 
 But if I lofe you , what have I to hope for ! 
 you are my only comfort; deprived of that, 
 lhall I ftill drag on my miferable pilgrimage ? But 
 even in you, what comfort have I, fave only 
 the thought, that you are ftill living? All other 
 joys are forbidden to me. I may not be allowed 
 to fee you , that my foul might foraetimes , at 
 leafi, return into its own bofom. 
 
 May I be permitted to fay that heaven has 
 never fceafed to be my relentlefs perfecutor ? If 
 you call it dernency, where is cruelty to be found ? 
 Fortune, that favage deftiny, has fpent againft me 
 every arrow of her rage. She has none left to 
 throw at others. Her quiver was full , and fhe 
 exhaufted it on me. Mortals have no longer 
 caufe to dread her. 'Nor if there were a fliaft 
 left, would it find in Heloifa a fpot to light on. 
 But, though bleeding at every pore, my enemy 
 does not ftay her perfecuting hand. She fufpends 
 the laft fatal ftroke , and only fears left my 
 wounds prove mortal. Of all the wretched I am 
 the moft forlprn and wretched ! Preferred by you 
 to the reft of my fex , I rofe to the moft exalted 
 dignity. Thrown down from thence , my fate 
 has been proportionably hard. He who falls 
 from thegreatelt height , falls with the greateft 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q55 
 
 rifk. Where was the woman of birth or power 
 that fortune would have dared to compare with 
 me? In the poffelTion of you my glory was 
 unrivalled* fo is my difgrace in your privation. 
 In profperity and in adverfity my life has known 
 no meafure. My happinefs was unbounded j fo 
 is my afflidlion. Hanging over my melancholy 
 ftate, I filed the more tears, when I view the 
 magnitude of my Ioffes ; but my tears redouble , 
 when recolleftion tells me, how dear thofe 
 pleafures were which I have loft. To tlie greateft 
 joys have fucceeded the greateft forrows. 
 
 And that my condition, it feems, might be 
 abfolutely defperate, even the common rules of 
 equity have been perverted in our regard. For 
 [ while we purfued illicit pleafures, divine juftice 
 I Was indulgent to us. No fooner was this reform- 
 \ ed, and the holy bond of marriage united us, 
 ;i than the hand of God became heavy on us. 
 
 I Flaving lowered yourfelf to raife me , and thus 
 j given dignity to me and all my family, what 
 • more could be required ? All guilt was cancelled 
 before God and man. — Why was I born to be 
 i the occafion of fo black a perfidy! But fuch has 
 I ever been the baneful influence of women on 
 
 i the greateft men. Hence the cautidn of the wife 
 man againft us. {Prov. 7. Q4.) 
 
 > Eve , our firft mother, drove her hulband from 
 i paradife. Heaven gave her to be his helpmate, but 
 1 
 
a36 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 foon file became his defirudion. — Delila was 
 alone ftron^ enough to vanquifii that brave 
 Nazarean , whofe birth an angel had foretold- 
 She delivered him to his enemies. When deprived 
 of fight he was no longer able to fiipport the 
 load of mifery, involved in one common ruin 
 he expired with his enemies. — Salomon , the 
 wifeft of men , was fo infatuated by a woman , 
 the daughter of the king of Egypt, as even, in 
 the decline of life , to become an idolater. In 
 preference to his father, who was a juft man, 
 he had been chofen to build a temple to the 
 Lord; that Lord he had publicly announced 
 by word and in writing, and he had taught his 
 worlliip ; but that worfliip he deferted. — Job, 
 that man of piety , had to endure the fevered 
 of all his conflids from his wife. She indigated 
 him to curfe God. The arch-tempter well knew 
 what experience had often taught him , that the 
 mod compendious way to dedroy a hulband , 
 was to employ the artifice of his wife. 
 
 His ufual malice he tried alfo upon us. He 
 had failed in his attempt while our union was 
 unlawful 5 therefore he had recourfe to matrimony. 
 He was not permitted , from our evil condud , 
 to work our ^in ; but he drew it from a fource 
 which was holy. 
 
 One confolation I have, however, and I thank 
 heaven for it , that, like the women I mentioned , I 
 
 had 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 557 
 
 had no iliare in the crime that was committed. 
 An occafion of it, indeed, I was; but my mind 
 did not co-operate. Yet, alas! though in this 
 fenfe , unconfcious of any guilt; do I know that 
 my many antecedent fins were not the caufe? 
 Here I may be criminal. Long had I lived in 
 the indulgence of my paflions : and thereby I 
 juftly merited what I fuffer. To fuch evil 
 beginings muft be alcribed fo difaflrous an event; 
 God gi'ant me ftrength to do ample penance for 
 the crimes that have been committed ! May 
 my forrow , lengthened out to many days , bear 
 fome proportion to what you have fuffered ! It is 
 but juft , and to it I confign my -life. Thus , 
 fhould not heaven be pacified , to Abeillard at 
 leaf! I Ihall have made fome atonement. 
 
 I will difclofe to you all the fecret weakneffes 
 of my unhappy heart. Tell me then: can I hope 
 to appeafe the divine anger ; I , who , at every 
 moment , am charging heaven with cruelty ? My 
 murmurs may draw on me greater vengeance: 
 the forrow, at leafl, of fuch a penitent will not 
 avert it. But why do I talk of penitence ? While 
 the mind retains all its former attachments to 
 fin; what avails the external language of grief 
 It is , indeed , eafy to eonfefs one’s faults ; it is 
 eafy to put on the impofing garb of penitence: 
 but , Oh God ! how hard it is to tear the 
 mind from thofe affedfions, which were once fo 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 S 
 
m THE LETTERS OF 
 
 dear ! For this reafon , when the holy Job had 
 faid; I will loofen my tongue to fpeak againft 
 « myfelf , ” that is , I will accufe myfelf of my 
 faults , I will confefs my fins ; he immediately 
 adds ; I will fpeak in the bitternefs of my 
 “ foul:“ Thefe words the bleffed Gregory has 
 expounded : There are many , fays he , who 
 
 readily acknowledge their faults ; but they 
 “ know not what it is to grieve *. what fliould be 
 “ afubjeft of tears they relate with a face of joy. ” 
 He therefore who , in real deteftation , declares 
 his fins, muff do it in the bitternefs of his heart: 
 his compundion muff at once punifli what his 
 tongue is made to utter. 
 
 How rare this penitential forrow is , St. Ambrofe 
 has alfo told us : I have found more , fays 
 
 « he , who have preferved their innocence , 
 than who have recovered it by penitence. ” 
 « __ So fafcinating were the pleafures we once 
 indulged ; the thought of them cannot give me 
 pain, nor can I efface their impreffion. Wherever 
 I turn my eyes , in all their charms , there are 
 they prefent to me. Even in my dreams the 
 dear phantoms hover round me. 
 
 During the celebration of the auguft myfteries , 
 when the foul , on the wings of prayer , fliould 
 rife more pure to heaven, the fame importunate 
 ideas haunt my wretched foul : they feize every 
 avenue to my heart. When 1 fliould grieve 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 259 
 
 for what is paft ; I only figh that the fame pleafures 
 return no more. My mind has been too faithful 
 to its impreffions : it holds up to the imagination 
 every circumftance of pleafure , and all the 
 fcenes of pad joys play wantonly before me. 
 
 I know j the drong workings of my mind ^ 
 fometimes even betray themfelves on my coiinte-^ 
 nance. I am heard to utter words which efcape 
 Unthinkingly from me^ — How wretched is my 
 condition ! To me furely may be applied thofe 
 plaintive expredions of the apodle ; “• miferable 
 
 “ mortal that I am, who will free me from this 
 “ body of death ? ” Could I but add with truth ; 
 “ the grace of God through Jefus Chrid our Lord! ” 
 This grace , my deared Abeillard j you are 
 podeffed of: it has been peculiarly indulgent to 
 you. Even the very circumdance , which we 
 confider as an indance of great feverity , does 
 but announce the paternal goodnefs of God, 
 Like a fkilful phyfician who ^ to cure his patient , 
 
 does not fpare the knife I have to combat the 
 
 fervor of youtli j and that burning flame which, 
 the indulgence of pleafure , has raifed within me. 
 My arms are but that poor defence , which wealt 
 female nature can fupply. 
 
 They, who cannot look into my foul, think 
 me virtuous : they think me chafle , becaufe my 
 external adions arefuch ; when furely this amiable 
 virtue only dwells within the mind. The world 
 
 S i? 
 
26o T H e L e T T e R S O F 
 
 may praife me ; but before God I am worthlefs. 
 He is the fearcher of hearts , and his eye pene- 
 trates into the inmofl; thoughts. — I am deemed 
 virtuous in an age , when religion too generally 
 wears the cloak of hypocrify ; when he is mofl 
 loudly praifed, whofe aftions do not fhock the 
 public eye. Indeed , the man , perhaps , may 
 deferve fome commendation , even before God , 
 who , whatever be his motive , abflains from 
 thofe practices , which are a fcandal to the 
 church , which expofe the name of God to the 
 blafpheming tongues of the wicked , and by 
 which wordlings are induced to ridicule the facred 
 
 O 
 
 inflitutes of religion. This is , at leaf! , a fmall 
 effeT of divine grace, from which proceeds not 
 only the power to do good, but alfo that of 
 abflaining from doing evil. Yet, after all, what 
 avails the latter without the former? It is written j 
 “ decline from evil , and do good. ” And even 
 both can have no pretenfion to a reward, unlefs 
 they be done from the motive of pleafing God. 
 
 Through the whole courfe of my life , heaven 
 knows what have been my difpofitions ! It was you, 
 and not God , whom I feared mofl to offend ; 
 you , and not God , I was mofl anxious to pleafe. 
 My mind is flill unaltered. It was not love of 
 him, but folely your command, that drew me 
 to the cloifler. How miferable then my condition , 
 if 5 undergoing fo much , I have no profpe<R of 
 a reward hereafter ! By external fhow , you , like 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ^6i 
 
 others, have been deceived; you afcribed to 
 the impreffions of religion what fprang from 
 another fource. Thus you recommend yourfelf 
 to my prayers, in hopes of finding that fuccour, 
 which I look for from you. 
 
 Do not , I pray , place that falfe confidence 
 in me , which will make me lofe the afliflance I 
 want. If you think me in health , you will apply 
 no medicines ; if in affluence , your hand will 
 not be open to relieve me ; and if ftrong , alas ! 
 I fliall fall before you can run in to fupport me. 
 Undeferved praife has been the ruin of many. It 
 puts us off our guard at the moment caution is 
 moh neceffaiy. 
 
 If you be an enemy to flattery , and a friend 
 to truth , let me then entreat you to ceafe from 
 praifing me. If you think I poffefs any thing 
 commendable, do not. you, at leaft , raife the 
 wind of vanity , which may diffipate it at a blafl. 
 Would he be thought an able phyftcian, who, 
 from external fymptoms , fhould pretend to 
 determine the nature of an internal complaint? 
 Things which are common to the faint and the 
 finner have no merit in the fight of God. Such 
 are all outward pradlices , to which the hypocrite 
 more feduloufly adheres , than the greateft faint. 
 
 The heart of man is depraved. It is impenetrable 
 to human fight : who yet has fathomed it ? And 
 there are ways which feem to us ftraight , the ends 
 
 S 3 
 
262 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 of which lead to death. Where God has referved 
 judgment to himfelf, it is raffi in man to pro- 
 nounce, For which reafon the wife man fays ; 
 
 praife no one, whilft he lives:” give not com- 
 mendation at a time , when the very a6l of 
 doing it 5 may make him undeferving of it. 
 
 To me your praifes bring the greatefl delight; 
 but therefore is their imprefilon more dangerous. 
 The anxious defire I have to pleafe you gives 
 them a thoufand charms. Yet I would rather 
 you lliould tremble for me , than fhow too much 
 confidence. Fear will make you folicitous to 
 affift me ; and in my prefent Rate , heaven knows 
 what caufe 1 have to tremble! 
 
 Do not tell me , in your exhortations to a 
 virtuous life, that “• virtue is perfeded in weak- 
 “ nefs , ” and that “ he only fliall be crowned , 
 '' who had floutly contended. ” I look for no 
 laurels , no crown of vidlory. It is enough for 
 me to keep out of the way of danger. I like not 
 the perils of war, If God will but give me the 
 loweft place in heaven, I Ihallbe amply fatisfied. 
 There, indeed, jealoufy is not known, where 
 each one is pleafed with his allotment of happinefs. 
 
 If thefe fentiments be not your’s, I will con- 
 firm them by the authority of St. .Terom : I , 
 
 fays he, fairly confefs my weaknefs ; I do not wifh to 
 “ fightin hopes ofvidory, leftl be defeated. ” How 
 foolifli is it to abandon what is certain, and run after 
 an uncertainty which we may never find Farewel. 
 
ABEILLAKD AND HELOISA. 263 
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 ABEILLARD to HELOISA. 
 
 T HE complaints, you urge againft me, in your 
 iaft letter, may be reduced to four heads. - That 
 in the hilutation of my letter I put your name 
 before my own — That , in lieu of adminiftering 
 comfort, I had added to your grief, by my expref- 
 fions — That my praifes are dangerous to you; 
 while to oppofe them you accufe yourfelf, and 
 entreat me not to repeat them — And laflly , you 
 fubjoined your tirefome and never-ending mur- 
 murs againft providence. 
 
 To thefe I will reply, not fo much in my own 
 defence, as for your inftru6lion and advice. When 
 you know that my requefts are reafonable , you 
 will be more difpofed to comply with them : and 
 when you find that I am not reprehenfible in what 
 regards myfelf, you will think me more juft in 
 your own concerns; and not again undervalue 
 my admonitions. 
 
 I. ~ With regard to what you ftyle the prepofterous 
 order of my addrefs, a little attention will fhow 
 you , that , in fo doing , I conformed to your own 
 idea. You fay that, when we write to our fuperiors, 
 their names fliould have the firft place. You 
 yourfelf are my fuperior, fince you became the 
 
 S4 
 
s 64 the letters of 
 
 fpoufe of Chrifl; , as your favorite Jerom has 
 fliown in his letter to Euftochium — {The truth of 
 this whimfcol ojjertion he then aitemptx to fho\>v by 
 a chain of rnyJUcal arguments , which the reader 
 will fnd at length in the Latin original . ) 
 
 II — And in reply to your fecond charge , that 
 J afflidled you by mentioning the danger , to 
 which I am expofed , and the death which I fear, 
 recolledl that, I did thatalfo, in compliance with 
 your mofl earneft requefl. I refer you to the 
 words of yourfirft letter; “For Chrift’s fake , ” &c. 
 p. q35. 
 
 I acquainted you of my anxious cares, to which 
 you had conjured me; and for that I am blamed. 
 While my life is in danger , would it become 
 you rather to rejoice ? Or you would partake of 
 my joys, but not of my forrows, — Nothing fo 
 well diftinguillies our true from our falfe friends, 
 as that the former Hand by us in adverfity , 
 and the latter are our companions only in 
 profperity. 
 
 Ceafe therefore , I pray you , from fuch expref- 
 fions , and flill thefe ufelefs rnurmurs , which , 
 indeed , have no afhniry with the feelings of 
 friendlliip. Or if this muff not be; I at leaft 
 may be permitted, furrounded as I am by perils, 
 to be anxious for my own foul , and to provide, 
 as far as may be, fgr its welfare. — And how, if you 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. a65 
 
 really love me , can you object to this provident 
 circumfpedion ? Even , had you any confidence 
 in the divine mercy towards me , in proportion 
 as my fufl^rings appear heavy to you , it would 
 be your wilh to fee me delivered from them. For 
 you are well convinced that he would be my 
 henefadlor , who lliould put a period to my un- 
 happy life. What then might be my fate, is 
 uncertain ; but I know rny prefent evils. 
 
 The termination of mifery is itfelf a happinefsj 
 and they who really feel for others, whatever 
 their own lofs may be in the event , cannot but 
 defire to fee an end to their labors. The kind 
 mother who beholds her fon languifliing in pain, 
 looks eagerly to its conclufion ; {tie cannot fupport 
 the fight, and flie rather willies his diholution, 
 than to have a partner in mifery. The company 
 of a friend is , indeed , pleafmg : but I would 
 fooner fee him away, and happy , than have him 
 with me , and miferable. His fufferings , which I 
 cannot remedy , become intolerable to me. 
 
 But you , Heloifa , may not even enjoy my 
 wretched company. Why then would you rather 
 fee me live in forrow, than die and be happy? 
 
 I do not underftand your motives. If , from a 
 continuance of my fufferings , you expedf any 
 advantage to yourfelf; you ad the part rather of 
 an enemy, than a friend. The idea, I know, ffiocks 
 you, let me then hear no more of fuch complaints. 
 
266 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 III. Yoiir rejeftion of praife I certainly ap- 
 
 plaud : thereby you fhow that you deferve it. It 
 is written: “ he that humbles himfelf lliall be 
 « exalted.” Your heart and hand, I truh , have 
 gone together. If fo , your humility is fincere: 
 and my words will not injure it. But take care, 
 
 I beg , left in feeming to avoid praife , you feek 
 it more , and your mind give the lie to your 
 tongue. You know the fentiment of Jerom on 
 this fubjedl; and give me leave to bring to your 
 recollection the artful Galatea of Virgil. She ran 
 from her lover, that he might follow her; and 
 before flie hid herfelf , £he wiflied to be feen : 
 
 Et fug't ad fallces , & fe cupit ante videri. 
 
 So we alfo fometimes flrive to excite the greater 
 admiration, by feeming to withdraw from it. We 
 decline the regard of the world , and we draw it 
 after us. It is an unbecoming artifice. 
 
 I fpeak of general characters. Of you I have no 
 fufpicion, nor do I doubt your fmcerity. Still let 
 me advife you to be more guarded in your 
 language. They who know you lefs may perhaps 
 think , you are but afking for greater praife. My 
 commendations , believe me , will never make 
 you vain ; but they may flimulate you to better 
 exertions : and the more you defire to pleafe me^ 
 the more ardently will you flrive to execute my 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 267 
 
 injunftions. If I praife the excellency of your 
 religions deportment , it is not that you fhould 
 glory in it. And obferve that , as the cenfure of 
 an enemy is not to have much weight , fo fhould 
 not a friend’s praife be too confidently relied on. 
 
 IV’^ It remains that I examine more minutely 
 
 what has long been the fubjeft of your inceflant 
 complaints, I mean the circumhance, which drew 
 us from the world. Here you accufe the ways of 
 providence , when it would be more equitable 
 to extol them. I had thought, indeed, that long 
 ago, by the peculiar grace of heaven, this bitter- 
 nefs had been erafed from your mind. The more 
 dangerous it is , at once threatening the ruin of 
 your foul and body, the more it calls for pity, 
 and the more it gives me pain. You declare that, 
 your only wifh is to pleafe me ; quit then thefe 
 baneful thoughts , that you may torment me no 
 longer that you may make me happy. With them 
 you cannot pleafe me; nor with them can you 
 expeft to go along with me to happinefs hereafter. 
 You have profeifed a willingnefs to follow me 
 even to the gates of mifery , and will you let 
 me go without you to thofe of endlefs joy? Let 
 this 5 at leaft , be a motive which may urge you 
 to a religious life. Reflect on the happinefs W’hich 
 awaits you there , and on my fociety , which will 
 no more be taken from you; for you do not 
 hefitate to declare that I am in the right way. 
 
268 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 Recolle£l what you once faid ; call to mind the 
 words of your lafl letter, that, in the manner of 
 our converlion , and in the mode of God s 
 chaftifemcnt, heaven had been rather propitious 
 to me. Yes, Heloila, it was propitious to us both; 
 but the excefs of your grief does not admit the 
 language of reafon. Lament not that you were 
 the caufe of this event ; rather be perfuaded you 
 were born to be it. I fullered ; but it was advan- 
 tageous to me : do the fuherings of the martyrs 
 alfo give you pain ? Had I juftly fullered, could 
 you have borne it more patiently P Iffo, ignominy 
 would have fallen upon me , and my enemies 
 might have gloried: they would have been juft; 
 and I contemptible. Their behaviour would have 
 found no accufers ; and, who would have 
 pitied me ? 
 
 To alTuage the bitternefs of your grief, I could 
 fhow that all has happened juftly , and with a 
 view to our greater good. The ways of Providence 
 are equitable. Revolve in your thoughts the in- 
 temperance of our behaviour, even after marriage, 
 when you were at Argenteuil , and I fometimes 
 came to vifit you. Need I mention our many 
 antecedent exceffes ? And how bafely had I 
 deceived your uncle , Avhen I lived with him in 
 habits of unbounded confidence? Surety 
 vengeance was not unmerited. — In puniftiment 
 oJf thefe crime? it was that I have fulfered ; and 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 969 
 
 to the fame caufe I afcribe the many evils which, 
 at this hour, furround me. It will be well if 
 divine juftice may thus be fatisfied. 
 
 Call to your recolledion another circumflance. 
 When I took you from Paris into Britany, to 
 avoid fhame and the fury of your uncle, you 
 difguifed yourfelf iu the drefs of a nun ; and thus 
 irreverently profaned the holy inftitute , which 
 you now profefs. With what propriety then has 
 the divine juftice , rather the divine goodnefs , 
 compelled you to embrace a ftate, which you 
 could wantonly ridicule , willing that, in the very 
 habit of a nun , you lliould expiate the crime 
 committed againft it. The truth of reality fupplies 
 itfelf a cure , and corrects your diffimulation. 
 
 If we view the advantages alfo which this juftice 
 has produced , you will rather be difpofed to 
 admire the kindnefs of heaven towards us. My 
 deareft Heloifa , do confider , from what perils 
 we were drawn , even when we refilled moft the 
 calls of mercy. We were expofed to the moft 
 dangerous tempefts , and God delivered us. Ever 
 repeat , and with a grateful mind , the wonders 
 of his mercy. The worft finners may take a lefton 
 from our example j for what may nut fuppliants 
 expeft , when they hear of the favors which were 
 done to us ? — Compare together the magnitude 
 of our dangers, and the eafe of our deliverance;; 
 oyr inveterate diforders, and the gentle remedy^ 
 
270 T H E L E T T E R S O F 
 
 our unworthy condu6l, and the benevolence of 
 heaven. — I will then proclaim what the Lord 
 has done for me. 
 
 And do you alfo be my infeparable alfociate 
 in this grateful thankfgiving ; you were my 
 partner in guilt , and you fliared the favor 
 of heaven. Heaven has been particularly mindful 
 of you ; even , by the happy prefage of your 
 name , it marked you for its own ; for Heloifa is 
 derived from the facred name of Heloim. 
 
 In the admirable order of providence , by the 
 very means the devil aimed to deftrcy us, was 
 our falvation effe6led. We were then jufl united 
 by the indiffoluble bond of marriage. It was 
 my wifh never to be feparated from you ,* and, 
 at that moment , God projedled to draw us 
 both to himfelf. — Had you been tied by no 
 engagement , when I left the world , the per- 
 fuafion of friends , or the love of pleafure , 
 might eafily have detained you in it. — It 
 feemed , by this care of heaven , as if we had 
 been defigned for fbme important purpofe ; as 
 if it were unbecoming, that the literary talents, 
 we both pofTeffed , fliould be employed in other 
 bufmefs , than in celebrating the praifes of our 
 maker. Perhaps it was feared that the allure- 
 ments of a woman might pervert my heart. It 
 was the fate of Salomon. 
 
 ,How many are the- bleffmgs with which your 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 271 
 
 l! 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 labors are now daily crowned! Your fpiritual 
 children are numerous ; while I , alas ! can num- 
 ber none , and am here in vain , at St. Gildas ^ 
 preaching to thefe Ions of perdition. And would 
 not , think you . the lofs have been deplorable , 
 if, immerfed in the ignoble pleafures of the 
 world , in lieu of the fplendid offspring you now 
 rear for heaven , you had been , with pain , 
 the mother only of a few earthly children? Then 
 would you have been a mere woman ; and now 
 you furpafs us all, and now you change the 
 curfe of Eve into the blefling of Mary. Thofe 
 hands which, in holy occupation^ now* turn 
 over the facred volumes, had been unbecominglv 
 engaged in the mean offices of domeflic life ! — 
 From fuch unfeemly occupations we have been 
 gracioufly called^ even by a holy violence, as 
 was the great apoflle. It has been meant, per- 
 haps , for an example , from which other learned 
 perfons may take warning , and not prefume on 
 their own flrength. 
 
 Be not therefore affli6led , Heloifa , nor repine 
 at this paternal chaflifement. “ God corredls 
 “ whom he loves. ” Our fufferings are momentary; 
 they are to purify , and not deflroy us. Liflen 
 to the prophet , and be comforted. “ God will 
 “ not judge, nor will he twice punifli the fam$ 
 “ crime, ” fays he. Attend to the important 
 advice , which trutli itfelf has given to us : “■ ig. 
 
Q72 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 “ patience you fhall poffefs your fouls. ” So fays 
 Salomon : “ The patient man is better than the 
 
 “ warrior , and he that is mafler of his own mind 
 “ than the conqueror of cities. 
 
 Are you not moved to compunflion and to teal's^ 
 when you behold the innocent fon of God j 
 fufferihg fuch various torments for you and for 
 us all ? Him have ever before your eyes ; carry 
 him in your thoughts. View him going out to 
 Calvary, and bearing the heavy w^eight of his crofs. 
 Join the company of the people , and of the holy 
 
 women , who lamented and wailed round him 
 
 Learn to fympathize with his fufferings ; be early 
 at his monument, and ftrew perfumes on his 
 grave. But remember , they be fpiritual odors ; 
 and with your tears bedew them. 
 
 When they who love their prince, fee his 
 firfl and only fon expiring before them, how 
 exceflive is their lamentation ! The royal family 
 and the whole court are diflolved in tears. But 
 it is the young queen, the fpoufe of the deceafed, 
 whofe fighs are moft affll£ling , and whofe Cries 
 are loudeft. — Thefe your grief tnuff emulate. 
 You are the confort of the lamb. He purchafed you 
 for himfelf, and he redeemed you. His right to you 
 then is indifputable ; and fee , how dear you muff 
 be to him — . What could he , who needs no one, 
 behold in you , that fhould force him to undergo fo 
 much for your fake ? His love was difintcreffed 
 
 4 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 27$ 
 
 it fought for nothing but yourfelf, and for you 
 he was difpofed to die. This is the teft of charity- 
 He v'^'aS your true friend , and not I , Heloifa, 
 My love , which involved us both in crimes , did 
 not deferve the name. The gratihcation of my 
 pafhons wr.s all I looked for. I fuffered , you fay , 
 for you ; and fo it may be : but rather it was on 
 your account only that I fuffered , and that 
 reludlantly. In that there was no love. Nor was 
 it to do you good fo much , as to add to your 
 grief and to opprefs you more. But he , your 
 Saviour, voluntarily fuffered for you ; he fuffered 
 to heal vour mafadies, and to do away your pains. 
 To him then, and not to me, be diredled all 
 your tendernefs , all your tears , and all your 
 fympathy. Grieve that fo great cruelty was prac- 
 tifed on innocence; and not that a juft vengeance 
 fell on me , when even this vengeance rather 
 was a favor from heaven. 
 
 If equity offends you , you are unjuft, Heloifa: 
 and if knowingly you refift the will and the 
 kindnefs of providence, your fin is greater. Bewail 
 your redeemer , not your feducer; him who died 
 for you , not your fervant who, freed from death, 
 juft now begins to live. 
 
 To the events, which have mercifully befallen 
 us both, learn then to fubmit with patience. It 
 was the hand of a father \vhich ftruck , not to 
 deftroy, but to corred us. His levereft blow gave 
 
 VoL. II. T 
 
574 
 
 \ 
 
 THE L E T T E 11 S O F 
 
 life to my foul. He might juflly have overwhelmed 
 me, when to fave me from eternal punliliment, 
 he infliEled momentary pain. You and I had 
 both been guilty; and he was fatisfied that one 
 Ihoukl fulfer. — It is true, you had deferved 
 lefs, for by nature you were more infirm, and 
 your virtue was more conflant. In equity did 
 God weigh thefe circumflances : and I thank 
 him from my heart, that he laid no punifhment 
 on you , and yet referved for you the palm of 
 vidory. Me , indeed , he chaflifed , and ftilled 
 the tempeft of my paflions ; but you he deflined 
 to nobler contefls , and to the rewards of thofe 
 who conquer. This I know you do not hear with 
 pleafure , and you forbad me to repeat it : but it 
 is not therefore lefs the language of truth. He 
 who has an enemy to oppofe, has ever vi^lory 
 to look to ; for he only , fays the apoflle , lliall 
 be crowned who has contended ftoutly. 
 
 For me remain no laurels; but it is fome 
 confolation, that I have lefs to withfland here, 
 and that I may have efcaped, perhaps , eternal 
 puniHiment hereafter. — If I complain that my 
 fource of merit is diminiflied ; I am pleafed that 
 your’s fliould be augmented. We are one in Chrift, 
 and one by the bond of marriage. What you 
 can call your own , to me may not be indiffe- 
 rent. I Jiave faid , I am now your fervant, whom 
 once you called your mafler; but it is charity 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 275 
 
 rather which unites me to you, than any fear 
 that rules me* My confidence then in your 
 patronage is great; your prayers will effe 61 what 
 mine cannot. At this time particularly when 
 imminent dangers , and a th oufand cares diflradl: 
 rny thoughts , and allow no time for prayer. Nor 
 have I more leifure to read the word of God , 
 and to ponder its facred truths , in imitation of 
 the Ethiopian eunuch , of whom we read that an 
 apohle was fent by heaven to inflrud him. He 
 had the holy Scriptures in his hand, and he 
 read as he journeyed homeward. 
 
 That no impediment may lie in the way of 
 my requeft , and that it may be delayed no 
 longer , I have compofed , and I here fend you 
 a prayer , which , with hands raifed to heaven ^ 
 you will daily repeat for Us both. 
 
 The PRAYER, 
 
 « O GOD, who, in the beginning of all 
 things , having drawn woman from the fide of 
 ‘‘ man, didft infhtute the great facrament of 
 marriage , and by thy own birth , and thy firft 
 “ miracle, didft then raife it to higher honors, 
 « of the grace of which facrament I once , in 
 “ thy goodnefs, was allowed to partake; rejed 
 « not, oh rejed not, the prayers of thy humble 
 « handmaid, which, here proftrate in the prefence. 
 
 T ^ 
 
276 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 of thy majefty , I pour out for my own fins, 
 ‘‘ and for the fins of my dear Abeillard. Pardon, 
 “ thou kindeff being, thou, who art goodnefs 
 “ itfelf , pardon our manifold crimes , may our 
 “ numberlefs faults experience the greatnefs of 
 ” tliy mercies ! I befeech thee , now punifli us , 
 ‘‘ for W'e are guilty , and fpare us hereafter. Ufe 
 againft thy fervants the rod of correclion , but 
 “ not the fword of thy wrath. Challife our bodies, 
 “ but hiow pity to our fouls. Purify them, but 
 “ not in thy anger. Be merciful , rather than be 
 “ juft. As a father correcfeth his children , fo do 
 
 “ thou chaften us, and not as an auftere mafter 
 
 ‘‘ Try us , O Lord , as the prophet requefts , and 
 meafure our ftrengthj then lay thy burdens 
 “ on us. By the bleffcd Paul thou haft promifed, 
 “ that man fliall not be tempted beyond his 
 
 “ ftrength When it pleafed thee , and as it 
 
 “ pleafed thee, fo didft thou join us, O Lord, 
 and fo didft thou put us afunder. The wmrk 
 “ thou didft begin in mercy, do thou in mercy 
 “ perfed. Whom thou didft once feparate here , 
 “ unite for ever to thyfelf in heaven. Thou art 
 our hope , our portion , our expedlation , 
 “ our comfort. O Lord , bleffed be thy name 
 for ever ! 
 
 Farewel in Chrift, and live to him ! — Amen. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 277 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 HELOISA TO ABEILLARD. 
 
 That you may not have canfe to charge me 
 with difobedience , as you ordered , fo have I 
 checked the language of immoderate grief. When 
 I write to you , my exprelhons lliall be more 
 temperate: but on other occafions, I cannot pro- 
 
 mife to refrain my tongue Nothing is lefs in 
 
 our power than our own minds ; and we are 
 oftener forced to obey than , we can command, 
 their operations. The fudden impulfe of ftrong 
 affediions cannot be at once repreffed ; their 
 effe 61 s are vifible , and they more eafily announce 
 themfelves in words , which are their readieft 
 vehicle. “• From the abundance of the heart the 
 “ mouth fpeaketh. ” But I will keep my pen in 
 fubjedtion, even when my tongue lhall be urn 
 governable. It would be well , indeed , if my 
 mind were as fubfervient ! 
 
 To reflore me to ferenity is not, I fear, in your 
 power ; but you can moderate my forrow. One- 
 thought is banilhed by anotlier. The chain of 
 gloomy meditation is broken , when new objedts 
 engage the attention 5 and the more honorable, 
 or expedient, or interefling thefe may appear 
 
 T 3 
 
278 T H E L E T T E K S O F 
 
 the more intenfe will be their imprelTion , and 
 the mure will the mind torn afide from troul3le. 
 
 We requcft then that you will enter on the 
 difcufhon of two points , the knowledge of 
 ► which will be very ufeful to us. Tell us the 
 origin of the female monaflic inflitute : and then 
 
 O ' 
 
 give us a rule, adapted to our fex, and which 
 may comprife all the duties of our fiate. For 
 want of this, men and women are now fubjedl 
 to the fame rule ; the fame burden is laid 
 on all. This is the rule of St. Bennet , praclifed 
 through the Weflern church. View only its 
 feveral injunTions , as to the drefs , for inflance 
 of the religious , and the difUn6f duties of the 
 abbot; and tell me how any part of them can 
 be applied to nuns , or to their luperior ? 
 Are we to fliow no hofpitality to the other lex; 
 or when they come , muff the abbefs , as the 
 general rule requires , give them entertainment 
 at her table ? Great is the danger in this pro- 
 mifcuoiis fociety, and particularly at meals where 
 excefs is often committed , and wine begins to 
 loofen the paffions of the foul. 
 
 Of this the holy Jerom was fenfible. Writing 
 to a Roman lady and her daughter, he fay.s; 
 “ In banquets innocence is not eafily preferved. ” 
 — And Ovid , that mailer of foul obfceiiity, 
 has been careful to point out the many occafions 
 
 * 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 07c) 
 
 which the table fupplies for criminal indulgence? 
 He fays 5 
 
 Vinaque cum bibulas fparfere Cupidinis alas , 
 Permanet, et capto flat gravis ille loco: 
 
 Turn veniunt rifus ; turn pauper cornua fumit ; 
 
 Turn dolor et curje, rugaque fiontis abit. 
 lUic faepe animos juvenum rapuere puella; 
 
 Et Venus in venis , ignis in igne furit. 
 
 De Art. Am. 1, i» 
 
 And if women only be admitted to our table , 
 will there then , think you , be no danger ? 
 Truly, if the bufinefs of fedudlion is to be carried 
 on, I know nothing fo efficacious as female art. 
 To our own fex it is that we chufe to reveal 
 the corrupt maxims of our hearts. The fame 
 experienced Jerom always adviled his fair pupik 
 to avoid with caution the fociety of women of 
 the world. — ■ In a word , if we only admk 
 women , \ve diall irritate the men , of whofe affift- 
 ance our convents particularly fland in need. Is 
 it jufl , befides , that no return fhould be made 
 to thofe who are our greateft benefactors a* 
 
 Seeing; then that the whole compafs of our rule 
 cannot be complied with , have we not reafon 
 to fear the cenfure of St. James, that, “ He who 
 “ violates the law in one article , tranfgreffeS' 
 “ againft the whole?” I find no exception in the. 
 rule of greater gr lefs obligations, 
 
 T 4 
 
^28 o the letters of 
 
 But paffing over thofe particulars, with which 
 we cannot comply , or not without danger: 
 who ever beheld a convent cf nuns employed 
 in the harvell, or in the general bufinefs of 
 farming? Can it be expected that a w'hole year 
 fliould be fpent in our noviciates ; or that three 
 expofition? of the rule may lufhce ? What, in 
 fliort, can be more fooliHi than to enter on a 
 road , dark and hitherto unexplored? IN-ecd 
 I mention the prefumption there is , in chufing 
 and daring to profefs a life , of which we know' 
 nothing , and in making vows which evidently 
 cannot be fulfilled? Prudence is the mother 
 of all virtues , and reafon muft guide our bed 
 adlions. Indeed , where they are w^anting , what 
 pradfice can be called good or virtuous ? Even 
 virtues which run into excefs , may more 
 properly , as Jerom obferves , be entered on 
 the lift of vices. And can there be a more 
 abfurd attempt than to impofe burdens, before 
 the llioulders have been tried which are to bear 
 them ? Human exertions can not exceed 
 the ftrength of natuie. Who would take the 
 ponderous load from an elephant , and lay it on 
 the back of an afs ? - Can cliildren or old men do 
 the work of vigorous age? All muft be in juft 
 proportion. Expedf not then from us the exertions 
 of manhood, or achievements which may become 
 the fti ength of your arms. The holy Gregory’s 
 are appofite to thefe maxims. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. qSi 
 
 As in framing the monkifli rules no mention is 
 made of women , and even Jflatutes are introdu- 
 ced wholly unadapted to their charadlers , it is 
 plain that they were not meant for us. Nature 
 muft be forced. Of this , Bennet our holy father, 
 in whofe breaft every virtue was feen to dwell, 
 was fo fenfible , that he would adapt his rule , 
 as far as might be , to the conftitutions of men , 
 and the variation of feafons. Let all things, 
 fays he, be done in meafure. He begins by 
 the abbot , and ordains that in governing 
 his monks , he pay due attention to their 
 refpedlive difpofitions and talents ; that he always 
 bear his own infirmities before his eyes : and 
 that he be careful not to crulh the tender 
 reed. “• If I force my flock , faid Jacob , to 
 
 advance too far, they will all die in one day.’’ 
 Prudence then muft be ufed , that the flout 
 be feafonably employed, and the weak be; not 
 difiieartened. 
 
 Agreeably to thefe wife maxims, Bennet fliows 
 indulgence to the young , to the old, and to 
 thole delicate habits. He confiders the particular 
 duties which the rule may impofe j and he 
 wilhes to proportion the quality and quantity of 
 food to the conhitutions of his fubjedfs. — Ever^ 
 the times of filling he has fo regulated , that they 
 fliall not fall at improper feafons , or on thofe who 
 have much work to do^ 
 
^82 T II E L E T T E R s O F 
 
 How then , think you , would this wife man 
 have added, had he undertaken alfo to give laws 
 to women He that in his own fex could 
 confider the many incidents of human weaknefs, 
 would Iiave well known how to meafure ours. 
 Do you , Abeillard , take a lefibn from his 
 example , and fancy not that one rule will apply 
 likewife to us , or that we can bear your 
 burdens. — Forus, I think, it will be enough, 
 if in our virtues we hiall be able to rival the 
 bifhops of God’s cliurch , and her clergy. Nor 
 truly would it be contemptible to come up to 
 the perfedlion of the good laity. What in you 
 men of flout virtue hardly deferves notice , in 
 us may be called admirable. 
 
 The learned Chryfoflom knew how to value 
 the virtue of the lay - chi'iflian. He advifes all 
 to follow the leflbn of the Apoftle , to watch and 
 pray , and to mortify the flefh, — This advice was 
 not given to monks only. Indeed , what are the 
 indulgences to which the laity may pretend ? 
 They may marry: befides that, we have all the 
 fame obligations. Our divine mafter made no 
 diflindion, Hard truly would be the condition 
 of mankind , if the f^me rewards were not 
 promifed to all j or if matrimony were fuppofed 
 to be a bar to virtue here j and to happinefs 
 
 hereafter» 
 
 1 ‘ ’ 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q83 
 
 If to the gofpel - precepts then we fuperadd 
 the virtue of continence , we lhall have done 
 our duty. Would to God, we were only able , 
 by our beft exertions , to fulfil thofe precepts; 
 that we did not afpire to be more than chriflians ! 
 — If I am not miflaken , it was from an idea 
 that new laws were ill-adapted to our natures, 
 and that we could not bear the impofition of 
 extraordinary vows, that the holy fathers would 
 not ena£l any particular flatutes for our fex. 
 They adhered to the maxims of the apoflle, 
 that “ where there is no law , there is lefs 
 ‘‘ prevarication. 
 
 Confeious of our weaknefs , the fame Paul , 
 though the profelTed admirer of continence , 
 urges young widows to marry , to become the 
 mothers of children , and the miftreffes of 
 families. The bleffed Jerom approved the advice ; 
 
 It would be better, fays he, to marry, and 
 ” to walk the beaten road, than to aim at great 
 “ things , and fall headlong into ruin. ” — St, 
 Auflin was an enemy to rafh engagements: “ She 
 “ that is free, he fays, let her ferioufly refledl; 
 “ and to her that is bound I recommend perfeve- 
 ‘‘ ranee. ” — The ancient canons of difeipline forbad 
 women to tie themfelves by vows before the 
 age of forty , and even that after a rigorous trial; 
 whereas you may enter into holy orders at the 
 age of twenty. The reafon of this diflindtion 
 is obvious-. 
 
84 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 There is now , I underfland, an order of 
 religious men , who are called the canons of St, 
 Aiiftin. Thefe do not eileem themfelves inferior 
 to the monks; yet they wear linen, .and eat 
 flefli-meat. Suppofe we were to copy their 
 example?— As to food; confult but the book of 
 nature, and it will tell you that, in that line , we 
 fhould have few reftraints. Sobriety in our fex 
 is a virtue of conftitution. The expenfe of our 
 table is fmall , and a llender diet fuffices. I have 
 alfo learned from philofuphy that we are not 
 lb eafily intoxicated. Macrobius obferves from 
 Ariflotle : Women , fays he , are feldom 
 
 “ intoxicated ; old men often. A woman’s body 
 “ is particularly moifl. The fmoothnefs and 
 brightnefs of the Ikin fliow it. The wine which 
 they drink falling upon a large body of 
 “ humors , lofes its efficacy ; it is weakened , 
 " and has not llrength to rife up to the brain. ” 
 In another place : The body of a woman is 
 
 “ made like a fieve : it is full of pores , for 
 “ the bufmefs of copious perfpiration. By the 
 fame apertures all liquor foon efcapes. On the 
 “ contrary, old men are dry, which the rough- 
 “ nefs of their Ikin demonftrates. ” 
 
 Be perfuaded, Abeillard, from thefe confider- 
 ations , that we may be indulged in the free ufe of 
 meat and drink. There is no danger ofexcefs. Ifwc 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. q85 
 
 live continently, renounce our property j and 
 I'erve the Lord , enough will be done , and 
 we Ihall deferve praife for it In other things, 
 let us imitate the clergy, or the devout laity, 
 or , if you will , the canons I have mentioned, 
 who profefs to follow the maxims of the apoftolic 
 
 age It is prudent in thofe , who confecrate 
 
 themfelves to God, to vow little, that they 
 may have it in their power freely to do 
 more. 
 
 If many , at this day , who rafhly engage in 
 a monaftic life , would attend to this ; if they 
 would duly weigh the important obligations 
 of the flate , and fee what their rule requires , 
 they would tranfgrefs lefs through ignorance, 
 and lefs through negledl. But crouding indif- 
 creetly into the cloifters, they there live as they 
 entered; they defpife a rule which they embraced 
 heedlefsly, and in its dead follow light and 
 abufive cuftoms. It will become us to take. 
 I care not prefumptuoufly to engage in difficulties ,• 
 I under which we fee fo many of you fmk. The 
 I world is grown old, and with it the human 
 race has lofl its priftine vigor. At lead the 
 I charity of all is fallen from its fervor. Laws then . 
 I which were made for man, mud conform to 
 I the change , and be modelled to it. 
 i I have mentioned the bleffied Bennet; he fo 
 framed his rule, he fays, as to mafe it ratlier an 
 
<i86 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 introdudion to a devout life. And indeed, 
 compared with fome precedent infhtutes , and 
 with the pradices of the holy fathers , his 
 injim6lions , it muft be owned, are eafy. 
 
 What fo contrary to religion and the tranquil 
 repofe of the cloifter as wine? It foments the 
 paffions , it breeds diifenhons , and it even 
 can overpower in man that fuperior reafon , 
 by which he excels the other beings of the 
 creation , and approaches to the nature of his 
 maker. Wine it is which the fcriptures fo much 
 condemn as dangerous , and warn us - againfl 
 its ufe. You know what is faid in the book 
 of Proverbs; and Jerom, in his letter to Nepo- 
 tian , on the duties of churchmen , is as fevere 
 againft that pernicious liquor , and all others 
 which can caufe ebriety. 
 
 Yet does Bennet , that fpiritual man , in con- • 
 fideraiion of the imperfe6f charader of the 
 times , allow wine to his monks* “• I could 
 “ not perfuade them , fays he , to abflain from 
 « its ufe. ” He had read , I prefume , of the 
 great moderation of the holy fathers in the 
 deferts. It is related that, on a time, a folemn 
 fervice was celebrated on the mountain of abbot 
 Anthony. Some wine was brought, out of which 
 an old man filled a fmall cup , aud took it to 
 abbot Sifoi, who was fick. The good abbot drank , 
 of it once, and a fecond time. But when the 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. <287 
 
 old man prefented it a third time, he refufed 
 it: “ No, faid lie, brother; that’s enough: 
 
 “ don’t you hnow tliat the devil is at the bot- 
 tom. ” — There are many more fuch anecdotes. 
 
 As to flelh-meat: where do we find that it 
 was ever condemned by God, or prohibited 
 by him to monks? Bennet, who was fo in- 
 dulgent on a more dangerous article, may well 
 be copied here — I wifii to fee a rational fcheme 
 adopted. In things that are indifferent, ufe no 
 reftraint. Why require duties which will not be 
 complied with? Forbid fin, and with that reft 
 fatisfied. In food and raiment let the maxim be, 
 to provide what is moft cheap and common; to 
 take what is neceffary, and retrench the refi. 
 
 Truly , thofe things are of little value , which, 
 neither prepare us for the kingdom of God , 
 nor at all recommend us to his mercy. Such 
 are all external practices , which are com- 
 mon to the reprobate and the faint , to the 
 hypiocrite and the fincere chriftian. It was the 
 difiiniflion of external and internal works which 
 made fo wide a difference between the chriftian 
 and the jew. The apoftle determines charity 
 to be the fulfilling and the end of the law ; and 
 it is by this virtue alone that the fons of God 
 are known from the fons of the rlevll. He 
 even utterly annuls the value of fuch works to 
 enhance the merit of faith and internal recftitude. 
 
q8S T H e L e T T e R S O F 
 
 Read his addrefs to the Jews in the epiftle to the 
 Romans. — He permitted the ufe of all meats ; it 
 was only the danger of fcandal which he advifed 
 to be avoided His writings every where incul- 
 
 cate thefe maxims. 
 
 And did not our Saviour himfelf, when he 
 fent out his difciples to preach , ufe the fame 
 indulgence? If ever > caution was then peculiarly 
 neceffary; yet he told them to eat and drink 
 whatever the hofpitable kindnefs of their friends 
 fliould fet before them. It is true , Paul forefaw 
 that the time would come, when men would 
 depart from this difcipline of his mafter and 
 of himfelf Thus he writes to Timothy: “ The 
 “ fpirit faith plainly that, in the latter times, 
 “ fome fhall depart from the faith , giving 
 “ ear to the fpirits of error , and to the do61rines 
 “ of devils ; forbidding to marry , commanding 
 “ to abftain from meats, which God created to 
 “ be received with thankfgiving by them who 
 believe , and who know the truth. For 
 every creature of God is good , and nothing 
 ‘‘ is to be rejedled , which is taken with thanks- 
 givincr. ” 
 
 o o . 
 
 If external appearances be regarded , John 
 and his difciples, with their wonderful abflinence 
 and macerations , may be preferred to Chrift 
 and his apoftles. They themfelves feemed con • 
 fcious of a fuperiority, when murmuring they 
 
 fa id 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 289 
 
 laid ; Why do we and the Pharifees faft fo 
 
 much, while thy difciples do not fall: ? ” St. 
 
 Aufhn is full upon this matter 5 and refle£ling 
 how much the reality exceeded the femblance 
 of virtue , lie boldly pronounces that external 
 aflions fuperadd nothing to the merit of our 
 internal difpofitions. I refer you to his writings. 
 
 Virtue alone is pleafmg in the fight of God. 
 They ^vho equally poffels it , will from his 
 hands receive the fame reward , though their 
 aflions may widely vary. It will be the employ- 
 ment then of the true chriflian to attend to his 
 heart; there to plant the feeds of virtue, and 
 from it to eradicate vice. What may be the 
 
 fhow of his adions, he will be little felicitous. 
 
 We read that the apoflles , even in the company 
 of their mailer , were fo ruftic and ill-bred 
 that, regardlefs of common decorum, as they 
 palled through the corn - fields , they plucked 
 the ears, and ate them, like children. Nor did 
 they walh their hands before they fat down 
 to table. “ To eat with unwalhed hands ,” faid 
 our Saviour to thofe who were offended j 
 « doth not defile a man. ” And he inflantly 
 added what thole things were which bring defile- 
 ment with them; Evil thoughts, homicides 
 adulteries , ” See. “ thefe come from the heart , 
 “ and they defde a man. ” If the mind be 
 not previoufly corrupted > that is , if the will be 
 
 VOL. II, 
 
 V 
 
ago THE LETTERS OF 
 
 not vicious , no a£lions can be bad. That is the 
 fource of evil. 
 
 If we be ftudioiis to pleafe him, who is the 
 fearcher of hearts , and who reads our fecrets , 
 it is the motive of our adioiis that we fhall be 
 careful to regulate. The widow’s mite was more 
 acceptable than all the fplendid offerings of the 
 rich. He , who does not need our fervices , 
 regards the intention and not the gift. “ The 
 « Lord looked kindly on Abel and his offerings : ” 
 he faw the difpofition with which he came , and 
 he was well pleafed. The difpofition is more 
 grateful to heaven, when the adion which accom- 
 panies it engages lefs of our attention. 
 
 Let us then determine to learn chriflian 
 prudence , and to imitate rather Jacob , who 
 entertained his father with a difli of homely 
 food , while Efau was beating the woods in queft 
 of rarities. I love not Pharifaical maxims. David 
 fays : “ The vows I make to thee , O Lord , 
 “ are within my heart , from thence 1 will 
 “ praife thee. ” And does not the poet Perfius 
 
 fay; “ Ne te quaefiveris extra:”. — Look not for 
 thyfelf from home ? 
 
 It would be endlefs to quote the opinions of all 
 thofe authors, profane and facred, who fliow us the 
 fignificancy of outward performances. The con- 
 trary do£lrine would tend to bring back Judaifm; 
 to fubflitute the works of the law, audits intolerable 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 291 
 
 flavery , for the liberty of the gofpel, and to the 
 fvveet yoke of Chriftj and his light burden. Yet 
 our Saviour himfelf called us to this new pro- 
 feffion. We know what, in “the Afls of the 
 “ Apoftles , ” was faid to thofe unwife chriftianSj 
 who wifhed to retain the practices of the law. 
 
 Do you then , Abeillard , follow Chrift in his 
 indulgent maxims 5 imitate that apoftle , whofe 
 name you bear, proportioning your precepts to 
 the weaknefs of our nature* Allow us ample time 
 to celebrate the praifes of our maker. This is the 
 facrifice which is moft pleafing to him. He re- 
 jefted the flefh of bulls and the blood of goats ; ^ 
 but the offering of praife he accepted , and he 
 liftened to the vows of the heart. 
 
 Conclude not , however , that it is my wifli to dif- 
 card all manual labor, even when it may feem 
 neceflary* My meaning is, that things which regard 
 the body, and which hand in the way of fpiritual 
 duties, fliould not be held in much eftimation. 
 This I Can the more infill on j becaufe in the 
 apoftolic age it was allowed , that widows and 
 devout women lliould be maintained at the public 
 cofl. They truly may be denominated widows , 
 not only who have loft their hufbaUds , but 
 who have renounced the world. Thefe it is but 
 equitable the church Ihould fupport. Our 
 Saviour before his death appointed a Reward for 
 his mother: and feven deacons were afterwards 
 
 y 2 
 
 1 
 
THE LETTERS OF 
 
 agQ 
 
 chofen to attend to tliofe good women, who 
 were particularly confecrated to God. 
 
 Paul 5 it is true , writing to tlie TliefTalonians , 
 very feverely blamed fome who led a liillefs and idle 
 life ; he ordered that he who -w'ould not work 
 might flarve. Ourlioly Bennet likewife, that idle- 
 nefs might be avoided , enjoined manual labor. 
 But tell me; was Mary idle, when, fitting at 
 the feet of Chrifl , flie liilened to his words ? 
 Martha , in the mean time , worked for both , 
 and envious of her filter’s repofe flie murmured, 
 as if flie only had to bear the heavy burden of 
 the day. 
 
 The fame murmuring is now often beared. It 
 
 O 
 
 comes from thofe who , engaged in the bufinefs 
 of the world, are yet required to fupport the 
 minifters of the altar. They complain lefs of the 
 extortions of a tyrant, than of what they con- 
 tribute to maintain thofe , whom they pleafe to 
 call lazy and ufelefs drones. Yet they know that 
 their occupationis , not to hear only the words 
 of Chrifl; , but to meditate on them, and to fing 
 the praifes of his name. Is it much to fupply a 
 few earthly goods for the many fpiritual advantages 
 given in return ? And the flaves of the world 
 fliall deem it diihonorable to ferve the children 
 of heaven ! Under the old law , the liberty of 
 repofe was fan<fl;ioned to the tribe of Levi. They 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. ag3 
 
 enjoyed no landed property, that nothing might 
 with-hold them from their fim<51ions ; and they 
 were fupported by the labor and contributions 
 of their brethren. 
 
 Should you refolve, on the article of fading, 
 to add any thing to the general difeipline of 
 the church ; I beg you will weigh it maturely, 
 and confider how far it may be proper for us. 
 In my opinion, the great chridian fad is rather 
 to abdain from fin. — In the didribution of our 
 church - fervice , and in the arrangement of our 
 prayers, be likewife as indulgent as you can. 
 Oblige us not often to repeat the fame pfalms. 
 Bennet, our founder, was fo little opinionated, 
 as to permnt his fucceffors , on this head , to 
 make any changes they might chufe. In procefs 
 of time , as the fplendor of the church diould 
 increafe , he knew that alterations might be 
 expedient. — Above all things , we wifli yon 
 fo to fettle our night- fervice , that no pried or 
 j deacon be admitted amongll us at that unfeafonable 
 I hour. It becomes us , at all times, to be fecluded 
 ! from the fight and approach of your fex. Our 
 bufinels is ^vith heaven ; and let us be on our 
 ^uard againd every danger. 
 
 It is now. Sir, your duty, while God gives 
 you life, to make fuch regulations for us , as 
 I may be binding on the Paraclet for ever. You, 
 f under him , are the founder of this houfe : bo 
 
Q^4 THE LETTERS, &c, 
 
 alfo , with him , our legiflator. When you are 
 gone, we may have a teacher who will be difpofed 
 to build on an other foundation. Forus, we 
 
 fear , he may be lefs folicitous ; or we may be 
 
 lefs attentive to him. Should he be willing to 
 ferve us , as you are ; are we fure he will be 
 
 equally capable? Do you fpeak to us, and we 
 
 will hear, — Farewel. 
 
 Abeillard's reply to this letter is itjelf a volume j 
 1 therefore cannot infert it ^ nor would it be 
 read if I were. It is dry and as uninterejling^ as 
 it is prolix. 
 
EPISTOLA I 
 
 HELOIS^ ABiELARDO. 
 
 Domino fuo , imo Patri ; Conjugi fuo , imo Fratri ; 
 Ancilla fua , imo Filia ; ipjius Uxor , imo Soror ; 
 
 Abxlardo Heloifa. 
 
 ^^^ISSAM ad Amicum pro confolatione Epiflolam, 
 dilecliflime , veftram ad me forte quidam nuper 
 attulit. Quam ex ipfa llatim tituli fronte veftram 
 elTe confiderans , tanto ardentius eam ccepi legere , 
 quanto Scriptorem ipfum charius ampleftor : ut 
 cujus rem perdidi, verbis faliem , tanquam ejus 
 quadam imagine recreer. Erant , memini , hujus 
 Epiftolae fere omnia felle 8c abfmthio plena , quae 
 fcilicet noftrae converfationis miferabilem hiftoriam, 
 8c tuas , unice , cruces affiduas referebant. 
 
 Complefti re vera in Epiftola illa, quod in exordio 
 ejus Amico promififti , ut videlicet in comparatione 
 tuarum fuas moleftias nullas vel parvas reputares. 
 Ubi quidem expofitis prius raagiftrorum tuorum in 
 te perfecutionibus , deinde in corpus tuum fummae 
 proditionis injuria, ad condifpulorum quoque tuo- 
 rum Alberici videlicet Remenfis , 8c Lotulfi Lombardi 
 execrabilem invidiam, 8c infeftationem nimiam ftitum 
 contulifti. — Quorum quidem fuggeftionibus quid de 
 gloriofo illo Theologiae tuae opere, quid de te ipfo quafi 
 in carcere damnato acftum fit , non praetermififti. 
 Inde ad Abbatis tui fratrumque falforum machinati- 
 onem acceflifti , 8c detractiones illas , tibi graviflimas, 
 duorum illorum Pfeudo-apoftolorum apraediCHs aemu- 
 lis in te commotas, atque ad fcandalum plerifque 
 fubortum de nomine Paracleti Oratorio praeter 
 
 V 4 
 
agli T H E L E T T E R S O F 
 
 confuetudinem impofito : denique ad intolerabiles 
 illas 8c adhuc continuas vitae perfecutiones , cmdeliffi- 
 mi fcilicet illius exadoris, Scpeffimorum, quos hlios 
 nominas, Monachorum profedus , milerabilem Ilif- 
 toriam confummafti. 
 
 Quae cum hccis oculis neminem vel legere vel 
 audire polTe aeftirnem : tanto dolores meos amplius 
 renovarunt quanto diligentius fingula exprelTerunt , 
 8c eo magis auxerunt, quo in te adhuc pericula cref- 
 cere retulifti; ut omnes pariter devita tua clefperarc 
 cogamur, 8c quotidie ultimos illos de nece tua 
 rumores trepidantia noftra corda , 8c palpitantia 
 pedora expedent. 
 
 Per ipfum itaque, qui te fibi adhuc quoquomodo 
 protegit, Chriftum obfecramus; quatenus ancillulas 
 ipfius 8c tuis crebris literis de his , in quibus adhuc 
 fiuduas, naufragiis certificare digneris; ut nos faltem 
 quae tibi folac remanfimus, doloris vel gaudii partici- 
 pes habeas. Solent etenim dolenti nonnullam 
 afferre confolationem, qui condolent, 8c quodlibet 
 onus pluribus impofitum levius fuftinetur , five de- 
 fertur. Quod fi paululum haec tempeftas quieverit, 
 tanto amplius maturandae funt literae, quanto funt 
 jucundiores futurae. De quibfcumque autem nobis 
 fcribas, non parvum nobis remedium conferes ; hoc 
 faltem uno, quod te nohri memorem effe monftrabis. 
 
 Quam jucundae vero fint abfentium Literae amico- 
 rum, ipfe nos exemplo proprio Seneca docet, ad 
 amicum Lucilium quodam loco fic fcribens : it Ouod 
 
 frequenter mihi fcribis, gratias ago. Nam quo uno 
 ii modo potes, te mihi oftendis. Nunquam cpifiolam 
 js tuam accipio , quin protinus una fimus. ” Si ima- 
 gines nobis amicorum abfentium jucundae funt , qu:e 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 297 
 
 memoriam renovant , 8c defiderium abfentiae falfo 
 atq, inani folatio levant : quanto jucundiores funt 
 literae , quae amici abfentis veras notas alFerunt? — - 
 Deo autem gratias, quod hoc faltem modo praefen- 
 tiam tuam nobis reddere nulla invidia prohiberis , 
 nulla difficultate praepediris : nulla (obfecro ) negli- 
 gentia retarderis. 
 
 Scripfifli ad amicum prolixae confolationem Epi- 
 lolae 8c pro adverhtatibus quidem fuis , fed de tuis. 
 Quas videlicet tuas diligenter commemorans , cum 
 ejus fluderes confolationi , noltrae plurimum addi- 
 dilli defolationi , 8c dum ejus mederi vulneribus 
 cuperes, nova quxdam nobis vulnera doloris infli- 
 xifti , 8c priora auxifti. Sana , obfecro , ipfe quae 
 fecifti, qui quae alii fecerunt, curare fatagis. Morem 
 quidem amico &; focio gefTifti , &: tam amicitiae quam 
 focietatis debitum perfolvifti fed majori te debito 
 nobis adftnnxifti , quas non tam amicas , quam 
 amicifllmas , non tam focias quam filias convenit 
 nominari : vel fi quod dulcius 8c fandtius vocabulum 
 poteft excogitari. 
 
 Quanto autem debito te erga eas obligaveris , non 
 argumentis , non teftimoniis indiget, ut quafi dubium 
 comprobetur ; 8c fi omnes taceant, res ipfa clamat. 
 Hujus quippe loci tu , poll Deum , folus es fundator , 
 folus hujus Oratorii conflruftor , folus hujus Congre- 
 gationis aedificator. Nihil hic fuper alienum aedifi- 
 cafli fundamentum. Totum quod hic eff , tua creatio 
 eft. Solitudo haec feris tantum , five latronibus 
 vacans , nullam hominum habitationem noverat , 
 nullam domum habuerat. In ipfis cubilibus ferarum, 
 in ipfis latibrtlis latronum , ubi nec nominari Deus 
 folet , divinum erexifti tabernaculum , 8c Spiritui 
 
298 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 San^lo proprium dedicafti templum. Nihil ad hoc 
 \ sedihcandum ex Regum vel Principum opibus in- 
 
 tuli Hi , cum plurima polTes 8c maxima, ut quicquid 
 '' fieret, tibi foli pollet adfcribi. Clerici five Scholares 
 
 huc certatim ad difciplinam tuam confluentes omnia 
 miniftrabant necelTaria ; 8c qui de beneficiis vive- 
 bant Ecclefiafticis , nec oblationes facere noverant , 
 fed fufcipere , 8c qui manus ad fufcipiendum, non 
 at dandum, habuerant, hic in oblationibus faciendis 
 prodigi atque importuni fiebant. 
 
 Tua itaque , vere tua haec eft proprie in fan6lo 
 propofito novella plantatio , cujus adhuc teneris 
 maxime plantis frequens, ut proficiant, necelTaria efl 
 irrigatio. Satis ex ipfa fceminei fexus natura debilis 
 eft hsec plantatio : eft infirma, etfi non efTet nova. 
 Unde diligentiorem culturam exigit 8c frequentio- 
 rem , juxta illud Apoftoli ; u Ego plantavi , Apollo 
 rigavit, Deus autem incrementum dedit.” Plan- 
 taverat Apoftolus atque fundaverat in fide per prae- 
 dicationis fuse docftrinam Corinthios , quibus fcri- 
 bebat. Rigaverat poftmodum eos ipfius Apoftoli dif- 
 cipulus Apollo facris exhortationibus, 8c fic eis in- 
 crementum virtutum divina largita eft gratia. Vitis 
 alienae vineam, quam non plantafti, in amaritudi- 
 nem tibi converfam , admonitionibus facpe caffis ? 
 et facris fruftra fermonibus excolis. Quid tuae de- 
 beas attende , qui fic curam impendis alienae. 'Doces 
 8c admones rebelles , nec proficis. Fruftra ante 
 porcos divini eloquii margaritas fpargis. Qui ob- 
 ftinatis tanta impendis , quid obedientibus debeas 
 confidera. Qiii tanta hoftibus largiris , quid filia- 
 bus debeas meditare. Atque ut cacteras omittam , 
 quanto erga me te obligaveris debito , penfa : ut 
 
A B E 1 L L A R D A N D H E L O I S A. 299 
 
 quod devotis communiter debes foeminis , unicae 
 tuae devotius folvas. 
 
 Quot autem ^ quantos Traftatus in dodrina , vel 
 exhortatione , feu etiam confolatione fanftarmn foe- 
 minarum fandi Patres , 8c quanta eos diligentia com- 
 pofuerint , tua melius excellentia quam noftra par- 
 vitas novit. Unde non mediocri admiratione no- 
 firae tenera converfionis initia tua jamdudura obli- 
 vio movit, quod nec reverentia Dei, nec amore 
 noftri , nec fandorum Patrum exemplis admonitus, 
 fluduantem me 8c jam diutino moerore confedam , 
 vel fermone praefentem , vel Epiftola abfentem con- 
 folari tentaveris. — Cui quidem tanto te majore 
 debito noveris obligatum , quanto te amplius nup- 
 tialis foedere facramenti conflat elfe adflridum : et 
 eo te magis mihi obnoxium , quo te femper . ut 
 omnibus patet , immoderato amore complexa fum. 
 
 Nofti chariflTime , noverunt omnes, quanta in te 
 araiferim , 8c quam miferabili cafu fumma 8c ubique 
 nota proditio rae ipfam quoque mihi tecum abftu- 
 lerit , et incomparabiliter major fit dolor ex amif- 
 fionis modo , quam ex damno. Quo vero major eft 
 dolendi caufa, majora funt confolationis adhibenda 
 remedia. Non utique ab alio, fed a teipfo , ut qui 
 folus es in caufa dolendi, folus fis in gratia con- 
 folandi. Solus quippe es, qui me contriflare , qui 
 me laetificare, feu confolari valeas. Et folus es, qui 
 plurimum id mihi debeas, Sc tunc maxime, cum uni- 
 verfa quae julTeris in tantum impleverim, ut, cum 
 te in aliquo offendere non polTem, meipfam pro 
 juffu tuo perdere fuflinerem. Et quod majus efl , 
 diduque mirabile , in tantam verfus eft amor infa- 
 niam, ut quod folum appetebat, hoc ipfe fibi fine 
 
3oo 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 fpe recuperationis auferret. Cum ad tuam Ratim 
 juRlonem tarn habitum ipfa quam animum immu- 
 tarem ; ut te tam corporis mei quam animi uni- 
 cum poffeiTorem oitenderem. 
 
 Nihil unquam ( Deus fcit ) in te nifi te requihvi ; 
 te pure , non tua concuplfcens. Non matrimonii 
 fcedcra , non dotes aliquas expedlavi, non denique 
 meas voluptates , aut voluntates , fed tuas (ficutipfc 
 nolli ) adimplere ftudui. — Et h uxoris nomen fanc- 
 tius ac validius videtur , dulcius mihi femper extitit 
 amieze vocabulum ; aut fi non indigueris, concubi- 
 nae vel feorti. Ut quo me videlicet pro te amplius 
 humiliarem , ampliorem apud te confequerer gra- 
 tiam , 8c fic etiam excellentiae tuae gloriam minus 
 laederem. 
 
 Quod 8c tu ipfe , tui gratia , oblitus penitus non 
 fuifti , in ea , quam fupra memini , ad Amicum 
 Ep iflola pro confolatione direfta. Ubi 8c rationes 
 nonnullas , quibus te a conjugii noftri infauftis tha- 
 lamis revocare conabar , exponere non es dedig- 
 natus : fed pderifque tacitis , quibus amorem con- 
 jugio , libertatem vinculo praeferebam. Deum tef- 
 tem invoco , fi me Auguftus univerfo praefidens 
 mundo , matrimonii honore dignaretur , totumque 
 mihi orbem confirmaret in perpetuo praefidendum , 
 charius mihi 8c dignius videretur tua dici meretrix, 
 c^uam illius Imperatrix. Non enim quo quifque di>» 
 tior five potentior , ideo 8c melior : fortunae illud 
 eft , hoc virtutis. 
 
 Nec fe minime venalem acflimet elfe. quae liben- 
 tius ditiori quam pauperi nubit, Sc plus in marito 
 fua quam ipfa concupifeit. Certe quamcumque ad 
 nuptias h$c concupifeentia ducit , merces ei potius 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 3oi 
 
 quam gratia debetur. Certum quippe eft , eam res 
 ipfas , non hominem fequi , 8c I'e , ft poffet, velle 
 proftituere ditiori. Sicut inducftio ilia Afpaftae Phi- 
 lofophae apud Socraticum iEfchinem cum Xenophonte 
 8c uxore ejus habita manifelle convincit. Quam 
 quidem induftioncm cum pra^didba Philofopha ad 
 reconciliandos invicem illos propofuilTet , tali fine 
 conclulit, 44 Quia, ubi hoc peregeritis , ut neque vir 
 44 melior, neque iceraina in terris laetior fit: profecfto 
 44 femper id, quod optimum putabis effe, multo ma- 
 44 xime requiretis : ut 8c tu maritus fis quam opti- 
 4 4 mae , 8c hxc quam optimo viro nupta fit. ” 
 
 Sanfta profecfto hxc plufquam Philofophica eft 
 fententia, ipiius potius Sophix, quam Philofophiac 
 dicenda. Samftus hic error , et beata fallacia ia 
 conjugatis, ut perfetfta dilecftio illxfa cuftodiat ma- 
 trimonii fcedera , non tam corporum continentia , 
 quam animorum pudicitia. 
 
 At quod error exteris, veritas mihi manifefta con- 
 tulerat. Cum quod illx videlicet de fuis xftimarenc 
 maritis , hoc ego dc te, hoc mundus univerfus non 
 tam crederet, quam fciret. Ut tanto verior in tc 
 meus amor exifteret, quanto ab errore longius ab- 
 fifteret. Quis etenim Regum aut Philofophorum 
 tuam exxquare famam poterat ? Qux te regio , aut 
 civitas , feu villa videre non xftuabat ? Quis te , 
 rogo, in publicum procedentem confpicere non fef- 
 tinabat , ac difcedentera collo eredo , oculis direc- 
 tis non infetilabatur ? Q.xx conjugata, qux virgo 
 non concupifeebat abfentem, 8c non exardebat 'in 
 prxfentem ? Qux Regina vel prxpotens fcemina 
 gaudiis meis non invidebat vel thalamis ? 
 
 Duo autem, fateor, tibi fpecialiter inerant, qui- 
 
3o2 
 
 THE L E T T E R S O E 
 
 bus foeminarum quarum libet animos fl:atira allicere 
 poteras; diflandi videlicet , et cantandi gratia. Qjiac 
 czeteros minime philofophos alTecutos elTe novimus. 
 Quibus quidem, quali ludo quodam , laborem exer- 
 citii recreans Philofopliici , pleraque amatorio me- 
 tro vel rytbrao compofita reliquifli carmina , quae 
 prx nimia fuavitate, tam didaminis , quam cantus 
 faepius frequentata , tuum in ore omnium nomen 
 incelTanter tenebant: ut etiam illiteratos melodite 
 dulcedo tui non fmeret immemores effe. Atque bmc 
 maxime in amorem tui fceminae fufpirabant. Et cum 
 horum pars maxima carminum noftros decantaret 
 amores , multis me regionibus brevi tempore nun- 
 ciavit , 8c multarum in me foeminarum accendit 
 invidiam. 
 
 Quod enim bonum animi vel corporis tuam non 
 exornabat adolefcentiam ? Quam tunc mihi inviden- 
 tem , nunc tantis privatse deliciis compati calami- 
 tas mea non compellat? Quem, vel quam licet 
 hoftem, primitus debita compaflio mihi nunc non 
 emolliat ? 
 
 Et plurimum nocens, plurimmn (ut nolli ) fum 
 innocens. Non enim rei effeftus , fed efficientis 
 affedlus, in crimine efl. Nec quae fiunt, fed quo 
 animo fiunt, aequitas penfat. Quem autem animum 
 in te femper habuerim, folus qui expertus es, 
 judicare potes. Tuo examini cunfta committo, tuo 
 per omnia cedo teftimonio. 
 
 Dic unum, fi vales, cum poli converfionem noftram^ 
 quam tu folus facere decrevifti , in tantam tibi 
 negligentiam atque oblivionem venerim, ut nec col- 
 loquio praefentis recreer, nec abfentis epiflola con- 
 foler : Dic, (inquam) fi vales, aut ego, quod fentio, 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 3o3 
 
 imo, quod omnes fufpicantur, dicam. Concupifcen- 
 tia te mihi potius quam amicitia fociavit , libidinis 
 ardor potius quam amor. Ubi igitur quod defi- 
 derabas ceflavit , quicquid propter hoc exhibebas 
 pariter evanuit. 
 
 Haec, dile^lilhme , non tam mea eft , quam om- 
 nium conje^lura , non tam fpecialis, quam Commu- 
 nis , non tam privata, quam publica. Utinammihi 
 foli fic videretur , atque alios in excufationem fui 
 amor tuus inveniret, per quos dolor meus paululum 
 refideret. Utinam occafiones fingere pofiTem , qui- 
 bus te excufando mei quoquomodo tegerem uti- 
 litatem. 
 
 Attende , obfecro , quae requiro ; &: parva haec 
 videbuntur tibi facillima. Dum tui praefentia frau- 
 dor , verborum faltem votis , quorum tibi copia eft , 
 tuae mihi imaginis praefenta dulcedinem. Fruftra te 
 in rebus dapfilem expefto , fi in verbis avarum 
 fuftineo. Nunc vero plurimum a te me promereri 
 credideram, cum omnia propter te compleverim, 
 nunc in tuo maxime perfeverans obfequio. Quam 
 quidem juvenculam ad monaflicae converfationis af- 
 peritatem non religionis devotio , fed tUa tantum 
 pertraxit juftio. Ubi fi nihil a te promerear, quam 
 fruftra laborem , dijudica. Nulla mihi fuper hoc 
 merces expe<ftanda eft a Deo , cujus adhuc amore 
 nihil me conftat egilTe. — Properantem te ad Deum 
 fecuta fum. habitu , imo prasceffi. Quali enim me- 
 mor uxoris Loth retro converfae , prius me facris 
 veftibus 8c profeflione Motiaftica , quam teipfum Deo 
 mancipafti. In quo , fateor, uno minus de te me 
 confidere vehementer dolui atque erubui. Ego au- 
 tem (Deus fcit ) ad Vulcania loca te properantem 
 
3o4 T H E letters OF 
 
 praecedere vel fequi pro jufTu tuo minime dubita- 
 rem. Non enim niecum animus meus , fed tecum 
 erat. Sed 8c nunc maxime fi tecum non ell , nuf- 
 quam ell. ElTe vero fine te nequaquam potefi. Sed 
 ut tecum bene fit, age, obfecro. Bene autem tecum 
 fuerit , fi te propitium invenerit , fi gratiam referas 
 pro gratia, modica pro magnis, verba pro rebus. 
 Utinam, dilede , tua de me diledio minus confide- 
 ret , ut folicitior effet : Sed quo te amplius nunc 
 fecurum reddidi , negligentiorem fuftineo. Memento 
 obfecro quae fecerim : 8c quanta debeas attende. 
 
 Dum tecum carnali fruere voluptate , utrum id 
 amore , vel libidine agerem , incertum pluribus ha- 
 bebatur. Nunc autem finis indicat, quo id inchoa- 
 verim principio. Omnes denique mihi voluptates 
 interdixi, ut tuse parerem voluntati. Nihil mihi 
 refervavi , nifi fic tuam nunc prsecipue fieri. Quae 
 vero tua fit iniquitas , perpende, fi merenti amplius 
 perfolvis minus , imo nihil penitus : prsefertim cum 
 parvum fit, quod exigeris , 8c tibi facillimum. 
 
 Per ipfum itaque, cui te obtulilli, Deum te ob- 
 fecro, ut, quoquo modo potes, tuam mihi prsefen- 
 tiam reddas , confolationem videlicet mihi aliquam 
 referibendo. Hoc faltem pado, ut fic recreata divino 
 alacrior vacem obfequio. Cum me ad temporales 
 olim voluptates expeteres , crebris me Epillolis vi- 
 fitabas , frequenti carmine tuam in ore omnium He- 
 loilTam ponebas. Me platese omnes , me domus fin- 
 gulse refouabant. Ouanto autem redius me nunc in 
 Deum , quam tunc in libidinem excitares ? Per- 
 pende, obfecro, quse debes, attende, qusepoflulo; 
 8c longam Epillolam brevi fine concludo. Vale Unice, 
 
 AB.ELARDI 
 
ABEILLARD ANDHELOISA. 3o5 
 
 AB^LARDI RESPONSIO. 
 
 Heloijfie , dUeCl'lJiiruR Sorori fua in Crijio , Ahelardus j, 
 
 Crater ejiis in ipjo. 
 
 QuODpoft ndftram a fsculo ad Deum converfio- 
 nem nondum tibi aliquid confolationis vel exhorta- 
 tionis fcripferim . noil negligentlte meae , fed tuae , de 
 qua femper plurimum confido , prtidentiae imputan- 
 dum eft. Non enim eam his indigere credidi, cui 
 abundanter , quae necelTaria funt , divina gratia 
 impertivit, tit tam verbis quam exemplis errantes valeas 
 docere , pufillannimos confolari , tepidos exhortarii 
 
 Sicut oc facere jamdudum cohluevifti , cum fub 
 AbbatilTa Prioratum obtineres. Quod fi nunc tanta 
 diligentia tuis provideas filiabus, quanta tunc forori- 
 bus , fatis eiTe credimus , ut jani omnino fuperfluam 
 dodrinam vel exhortationem noftram arbitremur. 
 Sin autem humilitati tuae hoc aliter videtur, in iis 
 etiam, qtiae ad Deuiia pertinent, magifterio noftro 
 atque feriptis indiges , fuper his quse velis, feribe 
 mihi , ut ad ipfam referibam , prout Dominus mihi 
 annuerit. 
 
 Deo autem gratias , qui graviflimorum 8c afliduo- 
 rum periculorum meorum follicitudinem veftris cordi- 
 bus infpirans , afflidionis mese participes vos fecit , 
 ut orationum fuffragio veftrarum Divina miferatio 
 me protegat 8: velociter Sathanam fub pedibus 
 noflris conterat. Ad hoc autem pr^cipue Pfalterium, 
 quod a me follicite requififti , forOr in fteculo quon- 
 dam chara , nunc in Chrlfto charifliraa , mittere 
 maturavi. In quo videlicet pro noftris magnis 8c 
 
 VOL. II. X 
 
T HE L E r 1 E K S OF 
 
 Sob 
 
 mtiltls excellibus , 8c quotidiana periculorum meorum 
 inflantia, juge Domino facrificium immoles orationum. 
 
 Qjiantum autem locum apud Deum 8c Sanftos ejus 
 fideiium orationes obtineant, 8c maxime mulierum pro 
 charis fuis, &: uxorum pro viris, multa nobis occurrunt 
 teftimonia &: exempla. Quod diligenter attendens 
 Apoftolus , line intermilTioiie orare nos admonet. 
 Legimus Dominum Moyfi dixifle , u Dimitte me ut 
 ii irafcatur furor meus. ” Et Hieremiae : a Tu vero , 
 ii inquit, noli orare pro populo hoc, 8c non obfi- 
 ti ftas mihi. ” Ex quibus videlicet verbis manifefte 
 Dominus ipfe profitetur orationes Sancfiorum , quafi 
 quoddam fraenum irte ipfius immittere , quo fcilicet 
 ipfa coerceatur , ne cpantum merita peccantium 
 exigunt ipfa in eos faeviat. Ut quem ad vindiftam 
 juflitia quafi fpontaneum ducit, amicorum fupplica- 
 tio fleilat , 8c tanquam invitum quafi vi quadam 
 retineat. Sic quippe oranti vel oraturo dicetur, 
 t( Dimitte me, 8c ne obfiflas mihi.” Praecipit Dominus 
 ne oretur pro impiis. Orat juflus Domino prohi- 
 bente , 8c ab ipfo impetrat quod poftulat , 8c irati 
 judicis fententiam immutat. Sic quippe de Moyfe 
 fubjunftum efl c u Et placatus fa£lus efl Dominus 
 li de malignitate, quam dixit facere populo fuo.” 
 
 Scriptum efl alibi de univerfis operibus Dei : u Dixit , 
 8c fa61a funt. ” Hoc autem loco 8c dixiffe memora- 
 tur, quod de alfli£lione populus meruerat, 8c virtute 
 orationis praeventus non implcffe , quod dixerat. 
 Attende itaque quanta fit orationis virtus, fi quod 
 jubemur, oremus: quando id, quod orare Prophetam 
 D eus prohibuit , orando tamen obtinuit , 8c ab eo 
 quod dixerateum avertit. Cui& alius Propheta dicit : 
 ii Et cum iratus fueris , mifericordia? recordaberis. ” 
 
AB EILL A RD AND HELOIS A. So; 
 
 Audiant id atque advertant Principes terreni , 
 qui occalione prxpolitae 8c edidae jufiitiae fuae obftinati 
 magis quam julli reperiuntur , 8c fe remiffos videri 
 Qrubefcunt, fi mifericordes fiant, 8c mendaces, fi edic- 
 tum fuum mutent, vel quod minus provide fiatuerunt 
 non impleant, etfi verba rebus emendent. Quos 
 quidem recfic dixerim Jepthae comparandos, qui quod 
 ftulte voverat, ftultius adimplens , unicam interfecit. 
 
 Qui vero ejus membrum fieri cupit, tunc cum 
 Pfalmifta dicit, Mifericordiam 8c judicium cantabo 
 i( tibi Domine. Mifericordia , ficut fcriptum eft , 
 judicium exaltat , attendens quod alibi Scriptura 
 44 comminatur. Judicium fine mifericordia in eum, 
 44 qui mifericordiam non facit. ” 
 
 Quod diligenter ipfe Pfalmifta confiderans , ad 
 fupplicationem uxoris Nabal Carmeli juramentum , 
 quod ex juftitia fecerat , de viro ejus fciiicet 8c ipfius 
 domo delenda, per mifericordiam calTavit. Orationem 
 itaque juftitiae praetulit , 8c quod vir deliquerat, fup- 
 plicatio uxoris delevit. 
 
 In quo quidem tibi, foror, exemplum proponitur, 
 fecuritas datur, ut fi hujus oratio apud hominem 
 tantum obtinuit , qrtid apud Deum tua pro me 
 audeat infimaris. Plus quippe Deus, qui pater eft 
 nofter, filios diligit; quam David foeminam fuppli- 
 cantem. Et ille quidem pius 8c mifericors habeba- 
 tur , fed ipfa pietas 8c mifericordia Deus eft. Et 
 qux tunc fupplicabat mulier, fxcularis erat&: Laica, 
 nec ex fandx devotionis profeflione Domino copu- 
 lata. Quod fi ex te minus ad impetrandum fulfi- 
 cias, faniftus qui tecum eft, tara virginum quam vidua- 
 rum Conventus , quod per te non potes , obtinebit. 
 Cum enim difcipulis Veritas dicat. 44 Ubi due vel 
 
 X c 
 
3o8 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 a tres congregati fuerint in nomine meo , ibi fum 
 
 in medio eorum. ” Et rurfum, a Si duo ex vobis 
 <( confenferint de ornni re quam petierunt , fiet illud 
 *4 a Patre rneo : ” Quis non videat quantum apud 
 Deum valeat fandie congregationis frequens oratio ? 
 Si , ut Apoftolus afferit , a Multum valet oratio jufti 
 aflidua, ” quid de multitudine fandae congregationis 
 fperandum efl ? 
 
 Nofti^ chariflTima foror , ex Homilia Beati Gregorii . 
 quantum fuffragium invito feu contradicenti fratri 
 oratio fratrum naturae attulerit. De quo jam ad 
 extremum dudo quanta periculi anxietate miierriraa 
 ejus anima laboraret , 8c quanta defperatione 8c taedio 
 vitae fratres ab oratione revocaret, quid ibi diligenter 
 fcriptum fit, tuam minime latet prudentiam. Atque 
 utinam confidentius te , 8c fandarum Conventum 
 fotorum., adorationem invitet, ut me fcilicet vobis 
 ipfe vivum cuftodiat, per quem, Paulo atteftante, mor- 
 tuos etiam fuos de refurredione mulieres acceperunt. 
 
 Si enim veteris Sc Evangelici Teftamenti paginas 
 revolvas ^ invenies maxima relTufcitationis miracula 
 folis vel maxime fcerninis exhibita fuilTe , pro ipfis , 
 vel de ipfis fada. Duos quippe mortuos fufcitatos 
 ad fupplicationes maternas vetus commemorat Tefta- 
 mentum, per Heliam fcilicet, Se ipfius difcipulum 
 Helifseum. Evangelium vero trium tantum mortuo- 
 rum fuicitationera a Domino fadara continet, qu 2 c 
 mulieribus exhibita, maxime illud, quod fupra 
 commemoravimus , Apoliolicum didum rebus fuis 
 confirmant, u Acceperunt mulieres de refurredione 
 ti mortuos fuos. Eilium quippe viduae ad portam 
 civitatis Nairn fufcitatum matri reddidit , ejus com- 
 jpallione compundus. Labarum quoque amicum fuum 
 
ABEILLABD AND HELOISA. 3 
 
 09 
 
 ad obftcrationem fororum ejus, Mariae videlicet ae 
 Marthae , fufcitavit. Quo etiam Arehifynagogi fdiae 
 hancipfam gratiam ad petitionem patris irapendente,^ 
 uMuiieres de refurre^lione mortuos fuos acceperunt 
 cum haec videlicet fufcitata proprium de morte 
 receperit corpus , licut illae corpora fuorum. Et pau- 
 cis quidem intervenientibus hae faftae funt refufci- 
 lationes. Vit® vero noftrae converfationera multi- 
 plex veftrae devotionis oratio facile obtinebit. 
 
 Quarum tara abftinentia quam continentia Deo 
 facrata, quanto ipfe gratior habetur, tanto ipfum 
 propitiorem inveniet. Et plerique fortaflis horum , 
 qui fufcitati funt, nec fideles extiterunt , ficut nec 
 vidua praediola , cui non roganti filium Dominus 
 fufcitavit, fidelis extitiffe legitur. Nos autem invi- 
 cem non folum fidei colligat integritas , verum etiam 
 ejufdem religionis profeffio fociat. 
 
 Ut autem facrofandi Collegii veftri nunc omit- 
 tam Conventum , in quo plurimarum virginum ac 
 viduarum devotio Domino jugiter defervit ; ad te 
 unam veniam , cujus apud Deum fanditatcra pluri- 
 mum non ambigo poffe , 8c quae potes, mihi praeci- 
 pue debere, maxime in tantae adverfitatis laboranti 
 difcrimine. Memento itaque femper in orationibus 
 tuis ejus , qui fpecialiter eft tuus , 8c tanto confi- 
 dentius in oratione vigila , quanto id efie tibi rc- 
 cognofcis juftius , 8c ob hoc ipfi qui orandus eft 
 acceptabiiius. Exaudi, obfecro, aure cordis, quod 
 faepius audifti aure corporis. Scriptura eft in Pro- 
 verbiis, Mulier diligens corona eft viro fuo.” Et 
 rurfum , u Qui invenit mulierem bonam , invenit 
 ti bonum ; 8c hauriet jucunditatem a Domino.” Et 
 iterum, u Domus 8c divitiae dantur a, parentibus,, a 
 
 X 3 
 
3i6 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 If Domino autem proprie uxor prudens. ” Et in 
 Ecclefiaftico , a Mulieris bonse beatus vir.” Et poll 
 pauca, {(Pars bona, mulier bona. ” Et juxta au- 
 thoritatem Apoftolicam , u Sanilificatus eft vir in- 
 i< fidelis per mulierem fidelem.” 
 
 Cujus quidem rei experimentum in regno prse- 
 cipuze noftro , id eft Francorum , divina Ipeciali- 
 ter exhibuit gratia , cum ad orationem videlicet 
 uxoris magis quam ad fandiorum praedicationem . 
 Clodoveo Rege ad fidem Clirifti converfo , regnum 
 fic univerfum divinis legibus mancipaverunt, ut 
 exemplo maxime fuperiorum ad orationis inftan* 
 tiam inferiores provocarentur. Ad quam quidem 
 inflantiam Dominica nos vehementer invitans para- 
 bola : ii Ille , inquit , fi perfevaverit pulfans : dico 
 It vobis , quia fi non dabit ei , eo quod amicus 
 ti illius fit , propter improbitatem ejus furget , 8c 
 tt dabit ei quotquot habet necelfarios. ” Ex hac 
 profedlo , ut ita dicam, orationis improbitate, ficut 
 fupra memini , Moyfes divinae juftitiae feveritatem 
 enervavit , 8c fententiam immutavit. 
 
 Nofti , diledliftima , quantum charitatis affedlum 
 praefentiae meae Conventus olim vefter in oratione 
 folitus fit exhibere. Ad expletionem namque quo- , 
 tidie fingularum Horarum fpecialem pro me Domino 
 fupplicationem hanc offerre confuevit , ut Refponfo 
 proprio, cum Verfu ejus praemifiis 8c decantatis, 
 preces his 8c Colledlam in hunc modum fubjunge- 
 ret. Refponfum. a Non me derelinquas , nec dif- 
 ii cedas a me Domine.” Verf. u In adjutorium 
 u meumfemperintende Domine.” Preces, u Salvum 
 u fac fervum tuum Deus meus fperantem in te, 
 ii Domine exaudi orationem meam , fc clamor meu^ 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Sii 
 
 tt ad te veniat.” Oratio, u Deus qui per fervulum 
 a tuum ancillulas tuas in nomine tuo dignatus es 
 “ aggregare, te qugefumus; ut tarn ipfi quam nobis 
 li in tua tribuas perfeverare voluntate. Per Do- 
 ii minum, 8cc.” Nunc aulem abfenti mibi tanto 
 amplius orationum vellrarum opus cfl I'ulFragio , 
 quanto majoris anxietate periodi conftringor. Sup- 
 plicando itaque poftulo , Sc pollulando fupplico , 
 quatenus praecipue nunc abfcns experiar, quam vere 
 charitas vellra erga abfentem cxtiterit , fingulis vi- 
 delicet Horis expletis , hunc orationis propriae mo- 
 dum adneftens. Refp. u Ne derelinquas me , Domi- 
 u ne pater &: dominator vitae meae , ut non corruam 
 ti in confpeftu adverfariorum meorum, Sc ne gaudeat 
 <c de me inimicus meus.” Verf. u Apprehende arma 
 ii 8c fcutum , 8c exurge in adiutorium mihi. Ne 
 ii gaudeat.” Preces, u Salvum fac fervum tuum Deus 
 ii meus fperantera in te. Mitte ei Domine auxilium 
 ii de fanfto: 8c de Sion tuere eum. Eflo ei Domine 
 t< turris fortitudinis a facie inimici. D omine exau- 
 ii di orationem meam : 8c clamor meus ad te veniat.” 
 Oratio, ii Deus qui per fervum tuum ancillulas tuas 
 ii in nomine tuo dignatus es aggregare , te quaefu- 
 u mus , ut cum ab omni aclverfitate protegas, Sc an- 
 5? cillis tuis incolumem reddas. Per Dominum 8cc.” 
 Quod fi me Dominus in manibus inimicorum tra- 
 diderit, fcilicet ut ipfi prxvaleutes me interfteiant , 
 aut quocunque cafu viam univerfee carnis abfens a 
 vobis ingrediar; cadaver obfecro nollrum, ubicun- 
 que vel fepultum , vel expofitum jacuerit, ad Cimi- 
 lerium veftrum deferri faciatis , ubi filiae noftrae , 
 imo in Chriflo forores, fepulchrum nollrum foepius 
 videntes , ad preces pro me Domino fundendas 
 
 X 4 
 
3I2 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 amplius invitentur. Nullum quippe locum animse 
 dolenti , de peccatorum luorum errore defolaf<£ , 
 tutiorem ac falubriorem arbitror, quam eum qui 
 vero Paracleto , id eft cunfolatori proprie confecra- 
 tus eft , 8c de ejus norqine fpecialiter infignitus. Nec 
 Chriftianae fepulturae locum reftius apud aliquos fide- 
 les , quam apud foeminas in Chrifto devotas confif- 
 tere cenfeo. de Domini Jefu Chrilii fepul- 
 
 tura folicitae , eam unguentis praeciofis , praevene- 
 runt 8c fubfecutae funt, circa ejus fepulchixim fiu- 
 diofe vigilantes , 8c fponfi mortem lachrimabiliter 
 plangentes, ficut fcriptum eft, u Mulieres (edentes 
 ti ad monumentumlamentabantur flentes Dominum.” 
 Primo ibidem de refurreftione ejus Angelica appari- 
 tione 8c allocutione funt confolatae, Sc ftatim ipfius 
 de refurre61ionis gaudia , eo bis eis apparente , per- 
 cipere meruerunt 8c manibus contreftare. 
 
 Illud autem demum fuper omnja poftulo , ut qua 
 nunc de corporis mei periculo nimia follicitudine 
 laboratis, tunc praecipue de falutc animae follicitae, 
 quantum dilexeritis vivnm exhibeatis defundo , 
 orationum videlicet veftrarum fpeciali quodam 8c 
 proprio fuffragio. Vive , vale , vivantque tuae , va- 
 leantque forores. Vivite , fed Chrifto quaefo mei 
 memores. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA., 3i3 
 
 EPISTOLA IL 
 
 H E L O I S S 
 
 Unico fuo pojl Chrijiiim, Unica fua in Chrijlo. 
 
 jV^IROR , (Unice meus!) quod 'praeter confuetu- 
 dinem Epiftolarum , imo contra ipfum ordinem na- 
 turalem rerum, in ipfa fronte faiutationis Epiftolaris 
 me tibi praeponere praefumplQfti : foeminam videlicet 
 viro , uxorem marito , ancillam Donoino , Monialem 
 Monacho 8c Sacerdoti , DiaconilTam Abbati. Rec- 
 tus quippe ordo ell 8c honeftus, ut quid ad fuperio- 
 res vel ad pares fcribunt, eorum, quibus fcribunt, 
 nomina fuis anteponant. Sin autem ad. inferiores , 
 praecedunt fcriptionis ordine , qui praecedunt rerum, 
 dignitate. 
 
 Illud etiam non parva admiratione fufcepimus , 
 quod, quibus confolationis remedium afferre debuilli, 
 defolationem auxilii; 8c , quas mitigare debueras ^ 
 excitafti lachrymas. Quae enim noflrum ficcis ocu- 
 lis audire poflit , quod circa finem Epillolae pofuilti 
 dicens : tt Quod fi me Dominus in manus inimico- 
 «t rum tradiderit, ut me fcilicet praevalentes inter- 
 ficiant , 8cc.” O chariffime , quo id animo cogi- 
 talli, quo id ore dicere fuftirmilli ? Nunquam an- 
 cillulas fuas adeo Deus oblivifcatur , ut eas tibi fu- 
 perllites refervet. Nunquam nobis vitam illam con- 
 cedat, quae omni genere mortis fit gravior. Te no- 
 firas exequias celebrare , te nollras Deo arumas 
 convenit commendare, 8c quas Deo aggregalli, ad 
 ipfum praemittere , ut nulla amplius de ipfis per- 
 
3i4 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 turberis follicitudine , Sc tanto laetior nos fubfequa- 
 ris , quanto fecurior de noftra falute jam fueris. 
 
 Parce obfecro , Domine , -parce Irujufmodi diftis, 
 quibus miferas miferrimas facias ; 8c ut ipfum quod- 
 cunquc vivimus ne nobis auferes ante mortem. Suffi- 
 cit diei malitia fua, Sc dies ilia omnibus, quos inveniet, 
 fatis fecum follicitudinis afferet omni amaritudine in- 
 voluta. tt Qjiid enim neceffe cft , inquit Seneca , 
 ii mala arceffere , Sc ante mortem vitam perdere ? ” 
 
 Rogas , unice , ut quocunque cnfu nobis abfens 
 hanc vitam finieris, ad Cimiterium noflrum corpus 
 tuum adferri faciamus : ut orationum fcilicet noftra- 
 rum ex affidua tui memoria ampliorum affequaris 
 fru^lum. At vero quomodo memoriam tui a nobis 
 labi poffe fufpicaris ? Aut quod orationi tempus 
 tunc erit commodum, quando fumma perturbatio 
 nihil permittet quietum ? cum nec anima rationis 
 fenfum , nec lingua fermonis retinebit ufum ? Cum 
 mens infana in ipfum , ut ita dicam , Deum magis, 
 irata quam pacata , non tam orationibus ipfum placa- 
 bit quam querimoniis irritabit ? Flere tunc miferis 
 tantum vacabit, non Orare licebit, 8c te magis fub- 
 fequi quam fepelire maturandum erit, ut potius 8c 
 nos confepeliendae fimus quam fepelire polTimus. 
 Quse cum in te noftram amiferimus vitam vivere tc 
 recedente nequaquam poterimus. Atque utinam 
 nec tunc ufque poffimus ! Mortis tuae mentio mors 
 quaedam nobis eff. Ipfa autem mortis hujus veritas 
 quid, fi nos inveniret, futura eff ? Nunquam Deus 
 annuat, ut hoc tibi debitum fuperffites perfolvamus, 
 ut hoc tibi patrocinio fubveniamus , quod a te peni- 
 tus expellamus. In hoc utinam te praeceffurae , non 
 fecuturae. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 3i5 
 
 Parce itaque obfecro nobis, parce itaque unicae 
 faltem tuae , hujufmodi fcilicet fuperfedendo verbis , 
 quibus, tanquam gladiis mortis, uoftras tranfverberas 
 animas : ut quod mortem praevenit ipfa morte gravius 
 fit. — Confedus moerore animus quietus non eft, nec 
 Deo ftncere poteft vacare mens perturbationibus oc- 
 cupata. Noli, obfecro, divinum impedire fervitium, 
 cui nos maxime mancipafti. Omne inevitabile , quod 
 cum acciderit, mcerorem maximum fecum inferet, 
 ut fubito veniat optandum eft ; ne timore inutili diu 
 ante cruciet , cui nulla fuccurri providentia poteft. 
 QjJodSc Poeta bene confiderans Deumprecatur dicens; 
 
 Sit fubitum quodcunquc paras , fit caeca futuri 
 Mena hominum fati. Liceat fperare timenti. 
 
 L U CAN. 
 
 Quid autem te admilTo fpcrandum mihi fupereft? 
 aut quae in hac peregrinatione caufa remanendi , 
 ubi nullum nifi te remedium habeam , &: nullum 
 aliud in te nifi hoc ipfum , quod vivis : omnibus de 
 te mihi aliis voluptatibus interdidis , cui nec prae- 
 fcntia tua concelTum eft frui , ut quandoque mihi 
 reddi valeam ? 
 
 O, fi fas fit dici, crudelem mihi per omnia Deum ! 
 O inclementem clementiam ! O infortunatam for- 
 tunam ! quae jam in me univerfi conaminis fui tela in 
 tantum confumpfit , ut quibus in alios faeviat jam non 
 habeat! Plenam in me pharetram exhaufit, ut fruftra 
 jam alii bella ejus formident. Nec fi ei adhuc 
 telum aliquod fupereftet , locum in me vulneris 
 inveniret. Unum inter tot vulnera metuit, ne morte 
 fupplicia finiam. Et cum interimere non celfet, 
 interitum tamen quem accelerat , timet. O me 
 
THE LETTERS OF 
 
 Sr6 
 
 miferarum miferrimam ! infelicium infeliciffimam ! 
 quae, quanto univerfis in te fceminis praalata fubli- 
 miorerrx obtinui gradum , tanto hinc proftrata gra- 
 viorem in te 8c in me pariter perpefla fum cafum. 
 Qitanto quippe altior afcendentis gradus , tanto 
 gravior corruentis cafus. Qiiam mihi nobilium ac 
 potentium foeminarum fortuna unquam praeponere 
 potuit aut aequare ? ^uam denique adeo dejecit 8c 
 dolore conficere potuit ? Quam in te mihi gloriam 
 contulit ? Quam in te mihi ruinam intulit ? Quam 
 mihi vehement in utramque partem extitit , ut nec 
 in bonis nec in malis modum habuerit ? Quae , ut 
 me miferrimam omnium faceret , omnibus ante bea- 
 tiorem effecerat : ut, cum, quanta perdidi, penfarem , 
 tanto me majora confumerent lamenta , quanto me 
 majora oppreflTerant damna ; 8c tanto major amiffo- 
 rum fuccederet dolor , quanto major poffefforum 
 praecefferat amor , 8c fummae voluptatis gaudia fumma 
 moeroris terminaret triftitia. 
 
 Et ut ex injuria major indignatio furgeret, om- 
 iiia in nobis aequitatis jura pariter funt perverfa. 
 Dum enim folliciti amoris gaudiis frueremur , 8c ut 
 turpiore , fed expreffiore vocabulo utar , fornicationi 
 vacaremus , divina nobis feveritas pepercit. Ut 
 autem illicita licitis correximus , Sc honore conju- 
 gii turpitudinem fornicationis operuimus , ira Domi- 
 ni manum fuam fuper nos vehementer aggravavit, & 
 immaculatum non pertulit thorum , qui diu ante fufti- 
 nuerat pollutum. 
 
 Deprehenfis in quovis adulterio viris haec fatis 
 cfTet ad vindidam poena, quam pertulifti. Quod ex 
 adulterio promerentur alii , id tu ex conjugio in-<. 
 currifti , per quod jam te omnibus fatisfecille con- 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 317 
 
 fidebas injuriis. Qjiod fornicatoribus fuis adulterae , 
 hoc propria uxor tibi contuht. Nec cum priftinis 
 vacaremus voluptatibus , fed cum jam ad tempus 
 fegregati caftius viveremus , te quidem Parifiis Scho- 
 lis praefidente , me ad imperium tuum Argenteoli 
 cum Sandimonialibus converfante. Divifis itaque fiC 
 nobis ad invicem , ut tu ftudiofius Scholis , ego libe- 
 rius Orationi five facrae le£lionis meditationi vaca- 
 rem; 8c tanto nobis fandius, quanto caftius de genti- 
 bus, folus in corpore luifti, quod duo pariter commi- 
 feramus. Solus in poena fuifti , duo in culpa : 8c qui 
 minus debueras, totum pertulifti. 
 
 Quanto enim amplius te pro me immillando fatisfe- 
 ceras, 8c me pariter &: totum genus meum fublima- 
 veras ; tanto te minus tam apud Deum , quam apud 
 illos proditores, obnoxium poenae reddideras. O me 
 miferam in tanti fceleris caufa progenitam ! O fummam 
 in viros fummos 8c confuetam foeminarum perniciem ! 
 Hinc de muliere cavenda fcriptum eft in Proverbiis: 
 u Nunc ergo , fili , audi me , Sc attende verbis oris 
 n mei. Ne abftrahatur in viis illius mens tua , neque 
 u decipiaris femitis ejus. Multos enim vulneratos de- 
 u jecit, 8c fortlflimi quique interfedi funt ab ea. Viae 
 (( inferi domus ejus penetrantes in inferiora mortis.” 
 Et in Ecclefiafte : u Luftravi univerfa animo meo , 8c 
 tt inveni amariorem morte mulierem , quae laqueus 
 ii venatorum eft , 8c fagena cor ejus. Vincula enim 
 funt manus ejus. Qui placet Deo , effugiet eam. 
 t< Qui autem peccator eft , capietur ab illa.” 
 
 Prima ftatim mulier de Paradifo virtim captivavit , 
 quae ei a Domino creata fuerat in auxilium , in 
 fummum ei converfa eft exitium. Fortiffimum illum 
 
3i8 
 
 THE LETTER S O K 
 
 Nazarenum Domini , 8c Angelo nuncianle concep- 
 tum , Dalila fola I'uperavit , 8c eum inimicis prodi- 
 tum Sc oculis privatum ad hoc tandem dolor com- 
 pulit , ut fe pariter cum ruina liollium opprimeret. 
 Sapientiflimum omnium Salomonem, fola quam fibi 
 copulaverat mulier infatuavit, 8c in tantam com- 
 pulit infaniam , ut eum quem ad sedificanduni fibi 
 D ominus templum elegerat, patre ejus David, qui 
 juftus fuerat, in hoc reprobato, ad idololatriam 
 ipfa ufque in finem vitae dejiceret ; ipfo quem tam 
 verbis quam fcriptis praedicabat atque docebat , 
 divino cultu derelido. Job fanftilfimus in uxore 
 noviflfimam atque gravifiTimam fuftinuit pugnam , quae 
 eum ad maledicendum Deo flimulabat. Et callidif- 
 fimus temptator hoc optime noverat , quod faepius 
 expertus fuerat; virorum videlicet ruinam in uxori- 
 bus elTe facillimam. 
 
 Qui denique etiam ufque ad nos confuetam ex- 
 tendens malitiam , quem de fornicatione flernerc 
 non potuit, de conjugio temptavit : 8c bono male 
 eft ufus , qui malo male uti non eft permifiTus. 
 
 Deo faltem fuper hoc gratias , quod me ille , ut 
 fupra- pofitas fceminas, in culpam ex confenfu nou 
 traxit; quam tamen in caufam coramilfae malitiae ex 
 effc(Ru convertit. Sed 8c fi purget animum meuui 
 innocentia, nec hujus reatum fceleris confenfus in- 
 currat : peccata tamen multa praecefferunt , quae me 
 penitus immunem ab hujus reatu fceleris elTe non 
 finunt. Quod videlicet diu ante carnalium illece- 
 brarum voluptatibus ferviens, ipfa tunc merui quod 
 nunc pleftor , 8: praecedentium in me peccatorum 
 fequentia merito fa<da funt poena. Etiam malis ini- 
 tiis perverfus imputandus eft exitus. Atque uti- 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. Sig 
 
 nain hujus prsecipu® commiffi dignam agere valeam 
 •pctnitentiam , ut p cena illi tu$ vulneris illati ex longa 
 faltcm poenitentiae contritione vicem quoque modo 
 recompenfare queam : &: quod tu ad horam in cor- 
 pore pertulifti , ego in omni vita , ut juftum eft , in 
 contritione mentis fufcipiam, &: hoc tibi faltem modo ^ 
 fi non Deo , fatisfaciam, 
 
 Si enim vere raiferrimi mei animi profitear infirmi- 
 tatem , qua pcenitentia Deum placare valeam non 
 invenio , quem fuper hac femper injuria , fumraae 
 crudelitatis arguo ; 8c ejus difpenlationi contraria , 
 magis eum ex indignatione ofFendo , quam ex poeni- 
 tentiae fatisfadione mitigo. Quomodo etiam poeni- 
 tentia peccatorum dicitur, quantacunque fit corporis 
 afBiftio , fi mens adhuc ipfam pecca^ndi retinet volun- 
 tatem, 8c priftinis aeftuat defideriis ? Facile quidem 
 eft quemlibet , confitendo peccata feipfum accufare, 
 aut etiam in exteriori fatisfaftione corpus aflBigere. 
 Difficillimum vero eft a defideriis maximarum volup- 
 tatum avellere animum. Unde 8c merito fandius Job 
 cum praemififlet, u Dimittam adverfum me eloquium 
 ♦t meum,” id eft laxabo linguam, 8c aperiam os per 
 confeflionem in peccatorum meorum accufationem : 
 ftatim adjunxit, uLoquar in amaritudine animse meae.” 
 Quod Beatus exponens Gregorius, u Sunt , inquit, 
 fi nonnulli, qui apertis vocibus culpas fatentur, fed 
 tamen in confeffione gemere nefciunt , 8c lugenda 
 ‘t gaudentes dicunt.” Unde qui culpas fuas deteftans 
 loquitur, reftat neceffe eft ut has in amaritudine ani- 
 mae loquatur; ut haec ipfa amaritudo puniat , quicquid 
 lingua per mentis judicium accufat. 
 
 Sed haec quidem amaritudo verae pcenitentiae quam 
 rara fit Beatus diligenter attendens Ambrofius : 
 
320 
 
 THE L E T 1’ E R S O E 
 
 (( Facilius, inquit, inveni , qui innocentiam fcrvavc- 
 (I runt, quam qui poenitentiam egerunt. ” In tantum 
 vero ilix, quas pariter exercuimus, amantium volup- 
 tates dulces mihi fuerunt , ut nec difplicere mihi , 
 nec vix a memoria labi poffint. Ouocunque loco 
 me vertam , Temper fe oculis meis cura fuis ingerunt 
 delideriisi Nec etiam dormienti fuis illufionibus 
 parcunt. 
 
 Inter ipfa Miffarum folemnia, ubi purior elTe debet 
 oratio , obfeoena earum voluptatum phantafmata ita 
 fibi penitus miferrimam captivant animam, ut tur- 
 pitudinibus illis magis quam orationi vacem. Quse 
 cum ingemifeere debeam de commilTis , fufpiro potius 
 de amiffis. Nec folum quae egimus , fed loca pariter 
 8c tempora , in quibus haec egimus , ita tecum noftro 
 infixa funt animo , ut in ipGs omnia tecum agam , 
 nec dormiens etiam ab his quiefeam. 
 
 Nonnunquam Sc ipfo motu corporis animi mei 
 cogitationes deprehenduntur, nec a verbis temperans 
 improvifis. O vere me miferam 8c illa conqueflione 
 ingemifeentis animae digniffimam ! u Infelix ego 
 u homo ! quis me liberabit de corpore mortis hujus ? ” 
 Utinam 8c quod fequitur veraciter addere qUeam ! 
 
 Gratia Dei perjefum Chrifium Dominum nollrum.” 
 
 Haec te gratia , chariffime , praevenit, S: ab his 
 tibi ftimulis, unam corporis plagam medendo, multas 
 in anima fanavit ; 8c in quo tibi amplius adverfaii 
 Deus creditur, propitior invenitur: more quidem 
 fidelilfimi medici, qui non parcit dolori, ut confulat 
 faluti. Hos autem in ine flimulos carnis , haec in- 
 centiva libidinis, ipfe juvenilis fervor aetatis, 8c ju- 
 cundiflimarum experientia voluptatum , plurimum 
 
 accendunt ; 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOIS A. 3n 
 
 accendunt; 8c tanto amplius fua me impugnatione op- 
 primunt, quanto infirmior eft natura, quam oppugnant. 
 
 Gaftam me praedicant , qui non deprehenderunt 
 hypocritam. Munditiam carnis conferunt in virtu- 
 tem , cura non fit corporis, fed animi virtus. Ali- 
 quid laudis apud hominfes habens, riihil apud Deum 
 mereor , qui cordis 8c renum probator eft , 8c in 
 abfcoridito videt. Religiofa hoc tempore judicor , 
 in qiio jam parva pars religionis non eft hypocrifis ; 
 ubi ille maximis extollitur laudibus , qui humanum 
 non offendit judicium. Et hoc fortaflis aliquo modo 
 laudabile , 8c Deo acceptabile quoquo modo Vide- 
 tur ; fi quis videlicet exterioris operis exemplo,- 
 quacunque intentione, non fit Ecclefiae fcandalo, 
 nec jam per ipfuiu apud infideles nomen Domini 
 blafphemetur , nec apud carnales profeffionis fuae 
 ordo infametur. Atque hoc quoque nonnullum eft 
 divinae gratiae donum , ex cujus videlicet mUnerc 
 venit non folum bona facere , fed etiam a malis 
 abftinere. Sed fruftra iftud praecedit , ubi illud non 
 fuccedit, ficut feriptum eft: Declina a malo, 8c 
 
 ii fac bonum. ” Et fruftra utrumque geritur quod 
 amore Dei non agitur. 
 
 In omni autem ( Deus fcit ) vitSe mese ftatu , te 
 magis adhuc offendere , quam DeUm vereor: tibi 
 placere amplius quam ipfi appeto. Tua me ad reli- 
 gionis habitum juflio , non divina traxit dilecftio. 
 Vide quam infelicem , 8c omnibus miferabiliorenf 
 ducam vitam , fi tanta hic fruftra fuftineo : nihil 
 habitura vemunerationis in futuro. Diu te , ficut 
 multos , fimulatio mea fefellit, ut religioni deputares 
 hypocrifin: 8c ideo noftris te maxime commendanl 
 orationibus .j quod a te expedo , a me poftulas. 
 
 VoL. II. Y 
 
THE LETTERS OF 
 
 3-2 2 
 
 Noli , obfecro , de me tanta prxfumere , ne mihi 
 cedes oiando fubvcnire. Noli aeflimare fanam , ne 
 medicaminis fubtrahas gratiam. Noli non egentem 
 credere, ne differas in necelTitate fubvenire. Noli 
 Validam putare , ne prius corruam quam fuftentes 
 lab-entem. Multis fuda fui laus nocuit, &: prtefidiura 
 quo indigebant, abftulit. Per Efaiam Dominus cla- 
 mat, ii Popule meus, qui te beatiBcant, ipfi te 
 14 decipitint, 8c viam grclium tuorarn diffipant. ” Et 
 per Ezechielem, a Vte qui conluitis , inquit, pul- 
 44 villos fub omni cubitu manus , 8c cervicalia fub 
 »4 capite astatis miiverfae ad decipiendas animas. ” 
 E contra autem per Salomonem dicitur , 44 Verba 
 44 fapientura quali liimuli , Sc quafi clavi in altum 
 44 defixi , qui videlicet vulnera nefciunt palpare , 
 44 fed pungere. ” 
 
 Quiefce , obfecro, a laude mea , ne turpem adula- 
 tionis notam 8c mendacii crimen incurras : aut fi 
 quod in me fufpicaris bonum , ipfum laudatum vanita- 
 tis aura ventilet. Nemo medicinje peritus interiorem 
 morbum ex exterioris habitus infpeadione dijudicat. 
 Nulla , quicquid meriti apud Deum obtinent , qute 
 reprobis teq; ut eleclis communia funt. Hsec autem 
 ea funt, quae exterius aguntur, quas nulli Sanaorura 
 tam ftudiofe peragunt, quantum hypocrita. 
 
 Pravum eft cor hominis, infcrutabiie etiam: 
 c[uis -cognofcet illud ? Et funt vite hominis quae 
 videntur reidas : novillima autem illius deducunt ad 
 mortem. rernerarium eft. ineo judicium hominis , 
 quod divino tantum reicrvatnr examini. Linde 
 fcriptuin ell : a Ne laudaveris hominem in vita.” Ne 
 tunc videlicet hominem laudes, dum laudando facere 
 non laudabilem potes. 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 323 
 
 Tanto autem mihi tua laus in me periculofior efl. , 
 quanto gratior: tanto amplius ea capior & delector, 
 
 quanto amplius tibi per omnia placere fludeo. Time 
 obfecro fempcr de me potius quam confidas , ut tua 
 femper follicitudine adjuver. Nunc vero prxcipue 
 timendum eft , ubi nullum incontinentise mes fupe- 
 refl in te remedium. 
 
 Nolo me ad virtutem exhortans , 8c ad pugnam 
 provocans, dicas : u Nam virtus in infirmitate perfici- 
 it tur : 8c , non coronabitur nifi qui legitime certa- 
 ti verit.” Non qusero coronam vidoriae. Satis ell 
 mihi periculum evitare. Tutius evitatur periculum, 
 quam committitur bellum. Quocunque me angulo 
 coeli Deus collocet , fatis mihi faciet. Nullus ibi 
 cuiquam invidebit , cum fingulis quod habebunt 
 fuffecerit. 
 
 Cui quidem confilio noftro , ut ex authoritate 
 quoque robur adjungam, Beatum audiamus Hierony- 
 mum : tt Fateor imbecillitatem meam , nolo fpe 
 tt vi^lorJae pugnare , ne perdam aliquando viftoriam.'* 
 Quid neceffe eft certa dimittere , 8c incerta fedari ? 
 
 EPISTOLA II. 
 
 ABELARD I. 
 
 Sponfa Chrijii ^ Servus ejujdem, 
 
 T 
 
 XN quatuor , memini , circa quae Epiftolae tuae no- 
 vlfifimae furama confiftit, olfenfae tuae commotionem 
 expreiTifli. Primo quidem fuper hoc conquereris 
 quod praeter confuetudinem Epiftolarum , imo etiam 
 contra ipfum naturalem ordinem rerum , Epiftola 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 noftra tibi dire^la te mihi in falutatione prxpofuit. 
 Secvindo, quod cum vobis confolationis potius re- 
 medium afferre debuiffem , defolationem auxi , 8 c 
 quas mitigare debueram iachrymas , excitavi. Illud 
 videlicet ibideiri adjungens , <4 Quod fi me Dominus 
 ti in manus inimicorum tradiderit, ut me fcilicet 
 II praevalentes interficiant,^’ Scc. Tertio vero vete- 
 rem illam 2c affxduam querelam tuam in Deum ad- 
 jecifti , de modo vidcliet nofirae converfionis ad 
 Deum , Sc crudelitate proditionis illius in me com- 
 ihiffae. Denique accufationem tui contra noflram 
 in te laudem oppofuifti , non cura fupplicatione 
 modica , ne id deinceps praefumerem. 
 
 Quibus quidem fmgulis refcribere decrevi , non 
 tam pro excufatione mea , quam pro do( 3 ;rina vel 
 Exhortatione tua ; ut eo fcilicet libentius petitioni- 
 bus affentias nollris , quo eas rationabilius fa£las 
 intellexeris; 8 c tanto me amplius exaudias in tuis, 
 quanto reprehenfibilem minus invenies in meis ; tan- 
 toque amplius verearis contemnere , quanto minus 
 videris dignum reprehenfione. 
 
 De ipfo autem noftras falutationis , ut dicis , or- 
 dine prgepoftero , juxta tuam quoque, fi diligenter 
 attendas , a^lum eft fententiam Id enim quod om- 
 nibus patet , tu ipfa indicafti , ut cum videlicet ad 
 fuperiores fcribitiir, eorum nomina praeponantur. Te 
 vero ex tunc me fuperiorem labiam intelligas , quod 
 domina mea effe coepifti , Domini mei' fponfa ef- 
 fe£la , juxta illud Beati Hieronimi ad Euftochium 
 ita feribentis : 44 Plaec idcirco , domina mea Euflo- 
 it chium , feribo. Dominam quippe debeo vocare 
 <4 fponfam Domini mei.” Felix talium commercium 
 nuptiarum , ut homunculi miferi prms uxor , nunc 
 
ABEILLA RD AND HELOIS A. 325 
 
 furJtinni Regis th.ala.mis fublimeris. Nee ex hujus 
 honoris privilegio priori tantummodo viro, fed 
 quibufeunque fervis ejufdem Regis praelata,. Ne mire- 
 ris igitur, fi tam vivus quam mortuus me veftris prae^ 
 cipue commendem orationibus ; cum jure publico 
 conflet, apud dominos plus eorum fponfas interce-; 
 dendo poffe , quam ipforum famulas , dominas am- 
 plius quam fervos. In quarum quidem typo Regina 
 illa 8c fummi Regis fponfa diligenter deferibitur , 
 cum in Pfalmo dicitur , a Allitit Regina a dextris 
 tuis. Ac li aperte dicatur , illa jun<flo latere 
 fponfo familiariflime adhaeret , pariter incedit , 
 CKteris omnibus quafi a longe abfiRcntibus , vel 
 fubfequcntibus. — ■ De hujus excellentia praerogativae 
 fponfa in Canticis exultans, illa, ut ita dicam, quam 
 Moyfes duxit, yEthiopifla dicit : u Nigra fum , fed 
 1 « formofa , filiae Hierufalem. Ideo dilexit me Rex, 
 it 8c introduxit me in cubiculum fuum.” Et rurfura , 
 Nolite confiderare quod fufea fum , quia deco- 
 u loravit me Sol.” — In quibus quidem verbis cum 
 generaliter anima deferibatur contemplativa , quae 
 fpecialiter Sponfa Chrifti dicitur , expreflius tamen 
 ad vos hoc pertinere ipfe etiam vefler exterior ha- 
 bitus loquitur. Ipfe quippe cultus exterior nigrorum, 
 aut vilium indumentorum , inftar lugubris habitus 
 bonarum viduarum mortuos, quos dilexerant viros, 
 plangentium , vos in hoc mundo , juxta Apofto- 
 lum , vere viduas , 8c defolatas offendit ftipendiis 
 Ecclefiae fuftentandas. De quarum etiam viduarum 
 lu£lu fuper occifura earum fponfura Scriptura com- 
 memorat , dicens : Mulieres fedentes ad monu- 
 
 it mentum lamentabantur flentes Dominum.” -r-r Ha- 
 bet autem dLthiopifla. exteriorem in carne nigredi- 
 
 Y 3 
 
326 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 nem , 8c quantum ad exteriora pertinet , cseteris ap- 
 paret fceminis deformior : cum non fit taraen in in- 
 terioribus difpar, fed in plerifque etiam formofior, 
 atque candidior , ficut in ofbbus , feu dentibus. 
 Quorum videlicet dentium candor in ipfo etiam 
 commendatur Sponfo , cum dicitur: u Et dentes 
 ejus lade candidiores,” Nigra itaque in exterio- 
 ribus, fed formofa in interioribus eft ; quia in hac 
 %dta crebris adyerfitatum tribulationibus corporaliter 
 afflida quafi in carne nigrefcit exterius , juxta illud 
 Apoftoli : i( Omnes qui volunt pie vivere in Chrifto 
 (( tribulationem patientur.” Sicut enim candido 
 profperum , ita non incongrue nigro defignatur ad- 
 verfum. Intus autem, quali in offibus , candet, 
 quia in virtutibus ejus anima pollet , ficut fcriptum 
 eft: u Omnis gloria ejus filise Regis ab intus.” — 
 Offa quippe , quae interiora funt , exteriori carne 
 circumdata, ipfius carnis, quam gerunt vel fu- 
 ftentant, robur ac fortitudo funt , bene animam 
 exprimunt, quae carnem ipfam , cui ineft , vivificat, 
 fuftentat, movet, atque regit, atque ei omnem va- 
 letudinem miniftrat. Cujus quidem eft candor , five 
 decor, ipfae , quibus adornatur , virtutes. — Nigra 
 quoque eft in exterioribus , quia dum in hac pere- 
 grinatione adhuc exulat , vilem 8c abj e clam fe tenet 
 in hac vita ; ut in illa fublimetur, quae eft abfeon- 
 dita cum Chrifto in Deo , patriam jam adepta. — 
 Sic vero eam fol verus decolorat, quia cteleftis amor 
 Sponfi eam fic humiliat , vel tribulationibus cruciat; 
 ne eam fcilicet profperitas extollat. Decolorat eam 
 lie, id eft diftimilem eam a caeteris facit, qua'; tei- 
 renis inhiant, 8c fkculi quserunt gloriam ; ut fic ipfa 
 vere lilium convallium per humilitatem elficiaiui : 
 
ABEILLARD AND H E t O I S A. 327 
 
 non lilium quidem montium , ficut illae videlicet 
 fatuae virgines , quae de munditia carnis , vel ab- 
 lUnentia exteriore , apud fe inturaefcentes , aeftu 
 temptationum aruerunt. — Bene autem filias Hieru- 
 falem, id eft, imperfeftiores alloquens fideles, qui 
 filiarum potius, quam filiorum nomine digni funt, 
 dicit : u Nolite me confiderare , quod fufe^ fim , 
 «t quia decoloravit me Sol.” Ac fi apertius dicat: 
 quod fic me humilio , vel tam viriliter adverfitates 
 fuftineo , non eft meae virtutis ; fed ejus gratiae , 
 cui defervio. Aliter folent haeretici, vel hypocritx, 
 quantum ad faciem hominum fpeftat , fpe terrente 
 gloriae fefe vehementer humiliare , vel multa inuti- 
 liter tolerare. De quorum hujufmodi abjeftione , 
 vel tribulatione , quam fuftinent, vehementer miran- 
 dum eft ; cum fint omnibus miferabiliores homini- 
 bus, qui nec praefentis vitx bonis, nec futurae fluun- 
 tur. — Hoc itaque Sponfa diligenter confiderans 
 dicit: t; Nolite mirari, cur id faciam.” Sed de 
 illis mirandum eft , qui inutiliter terrenae laudis de- 
 fiderio aeftuantes terrenis fe privant commodis , tam 
 hic , quam in futuro miferi. Qualis quidem fatua- 
 rum virginum continentia eft, quae a janua funt ex- 
 clufae. — Bene etiam , quia nigra eft , ut diximus , 
 8 c formefa, diledlam , 8 c introduflam fc dicit in cu- 
 biculum Regis , id eft , in fecretum , vel quietem 
 contemplationis , 8 c leftulum illum , de quo eadem 
 alibi dicit : u In leflulo meo per no£les quaefivi , 
 u quem diliget anima mea,” Ipfa quippe nigredi- 
 nis deformitas occultum potius quam manifeftum , 
 2 c fecretum magis , quam publicum amat. Et quae 
 talis eft uxor, fecreta potius viri gaudia , quam ma- 
 nifefta defiderat , 8 c in ledo magis vult fentiri quam.. 
 
 Y 4 
 
 / 
 
3a8 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 in menfa videri. — Et frequenter accidit , ut nigra- 
 rum caro fceminarum , quanto eft in afpe<ftu defor- 
 mior , tanto fit in ta^fu fuavior : atque ideo earum 
 voiuptas fecretis gaudiis, quam publicis gratior lit, 
 8c conyenientior , 8c earum viri, ut illis oblectentur, 
 magis eas in cubiculum introducunt , quam adpubli- 
 cum educunt. — Secuiidum quani quidem metaphoram 
 bene fpiritualis Sponfa cum praemifilTet : u Nigra fum , 
 ttfedformofa,”ftatirfi adjunxit: ttideo dilexitme Rex, 
 ii &: introduxit me in cubiculum fuum lingula vi- 
 delicet fingulis reddens. Hoc eft , quia formofa , 
 dilexit , quia nigra, introduxit. Forfnofa, ut dixit , 
 intus virtutibus , quas diftgit Sponfus : nigra exte- 
 rius corporalium tribulationum adverfitatibus. — Quae 
 quidem nigredo^ corporalium fcilicet tribulationum, 
 facile fidelium mentes ab amore terrenorum avel- 
 lit, 8c ad aeternae vitae delideria fufpendit, 8c faepe a 
 tumultuofa laeculi vita trahit ad fecretum contem- 
 platioriis. Sicut in Paulo illo videlicet noftrae , id 
 eft, Monachalis vitae , primordio aCfum elTe Beatus 
 fcribit Hieronymus. — Haec quoque adjeCfio indu- 
 mentorum vilium fecretum magis , quam publicum 
 appetit, 8c maxima vilitatis , ac fecreporis loci, qui 
 noftrae praecipue convenit profeflioni , cuftodienda 
 eft. Maxime namque ad publicum procedere pre- 
 tiofus provocat cultus , quern a nullo appeti, nili 
 ad inanem gloriam, Sc faeculi pompam Beatus Gre- 
 gorius inde convincit : quod nemo his in occulto 
 fe ornat , fed ubi confpici queat. Hoc autem prae- 
 dirum Sponfae cubiculum ijlud eft , ad quod ipfe 
 Sponfus in Evangelic invitat orantem, dicens : u Tu 
 i; autem cum oraveris, intra in cubiculum, &c claufo 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. Sag 
 
 oflio , ora Patrem tuum.” Ac fi diceret : non in 
 plateis , vel publicis locis , ficut hypocritae. Cubi- 
 culum itaque dicit lecretum a tumultibus , 8c afpec- 
 tu faeculi locum , ubi quietius 8c purius orari poflit : 
 qualia lunt Icilicet Monaflicarum folitudinum fecre- 
 ta , ubi claudere oRium jubemur, id eft , aditus 
 omnes obllrucre , ne puritas orationis cafu aliquo 
 praepediatur, k oculus noller infelicem animam de- 
 praedetur. — Cujus quidem confilii , imo praecepti 
 divini multos hujus habitus noftri contemptores ad- 
 huc graviter fulfinemus , c[ui cum divina celebrant 
 officia, clauftris , vel choris eorum referatis, publi- 
 cis tam focminarum quam virorum afpe£fibus impu- 
 denter fe ingerunt , 8c tunc praecipue cum in folem- 
 nitatibus pretiofis polluerunt ornamentis , ficut 8c 
 ipfi , quibus olfentant , faeculares homines. Quo- 
 rum quidem judicio tanto fellivitas habetur cele- 
 brior , quanto in exteriori ornatu eft ditior , 8c in 
 epulis copiofior. De quorum quidem caecitate mir 
 ferrima, 8c pauperum Chrifti religioni penitus con- 
 traria , tanto eu filere honeftius , quanto loqui tur- 
 pius. Qui penitus Judaizantes confuetudinem fuam 
 fequuntur pro regula , 8s irritum fecerunt mandatum 
 Dei per traditiones fuas ; non quod debeat, fed 
 quod foleat attendentes. Cum , ut Beatus etiam 
 meminit Auguftinus , Dominus dixerit : u Ego fum 
 u veritas,” non ego fum confuetudo. — - Horum 
 orationibus , quae aperto fcilicet fiunt olfio , qui vo- 
 luerit , fe commendet. Vos autem , quae in cubi- 
 culum caeleftis Regis ab ipfo introductae , atque in 
 ejus amplexibus quiefeentes , claufo femper olfio , 
 ei totae vacatis , quanto familiarius ei adhaeretis , 
 juxta illud Apoftoli, u Qui adhaeret Domino , unus 
 
33o 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 a fpiritus eft tanto puriorem, 8c efficaciorem ha- 
 bere confidimus orationem , 8c ob hoc vehemen- 
 tius earum efflagitamus ope'^m. Quas etiam tanto 
 devotius pro me faciendas efle credimus , quanto 
 majore nos invicem caritate colligati fumus. 
 
 Quod vero mentione periculi , in quo laboro , vel 
 mortis quam timeo , vos commovi , juxta ipfam 
 quoque tuam faftum eft exhortationem , imo etiam 
 adjurationem. Sic enim prima , quam ad me di- 
 rexifti, quodam loco continet Eplftola : st Per ip- 
 ‘t funi itaque qui te fibi adhuc quoquomodo pro- 
 ‘4 tegit Chriftum obfecramus , quatenus ancillulas 
 st ipfius ■, 8c tuas crebris litens de his , m quibus 
 st adhuc fiucluas, naufragiis certificate digneris: ut 
 li nos faltcm quae tibi folae reraanfimus doloris vel 
 41 gaudii particeps habeas. Solent enim dolenti non- 
 11 nullam adferre confolationem qui condolent. Et 
 tc quodlibet onus pluribus impofitum levius fufti- 
 it netur , five defertur.” 
 
 Ojiid igitur arguis , quod vos anxietatis mete 
 participes feci, ad quod me adjurando compulifti ? 
 Nunquid in tanta vitas , qua crucior , defperatione 
 gaudere vos convenit? Nec doloris fociae, fed gaudii 
 tantum vultis elTe : nec flere cum flentibus , fed 
 gaudere cum gaudentibus ? Nulla major verorum 
 8: falforum differentia eft amicorum , quam quod 
 illi adverfitati , ifti profperitati fe fociant. 
 
 Quiefce , oblecro , ab his dnftis , 8c hujufmodi 
 querimonias compefce , quae a vifceribus caritatis 
 abfiftunt longiflime. Aut fi adhuc in his offenderis, 
 me tamen in tanto periculi pofium articulo, 8c quoti- 
 diana defperatione vitae , de falute anim^ follicitum 
 effe convenit, 8e de ipf^ , dum licet, providere. Nec 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 33l 
 
 tu, fi me vere diligis, hanc cxofani providentiam 
 habebis. Quinetiam fi quam de divina erga me 
 mifericordia fpem haberes, tanto amplius ab hujus 
 vitae aerumnis liberari me cuperes , quanto eas con- 
 fpicis intolerabiliores. Certum quippe tibi eft, quod 
 quifquis ab hac vita me liberet, a maximis poenis 
 eruet. Qiias poftea incurram incertum cft , fed k 
 quantis abfolvar dubium non eh. 
 
 Omnis vita mifera jucundum exitum habet , 2c 
 quicunque ullorum anxietatibus vere compatiuntur 
 c< condolent , eas finiri defiderant : 8c cum damnis 
 etiam fuis , fi quos anxios vident, vere diligunt, 
 nec tam commoda propria quam illorum in ipfis, 
 attendunt. Sic diu languentem filium mater etiam 
 morte languorem finire defiderat , quem tolerare 
 ipfa non poteff, 8c eo potius orbari fuflinet , quam 
 in miferia confortem habere. Et quicunque amici 
 praefentia plurimum obledatur , magis tamen beatam 
 effie vult ejus abfentiam quam prsefentiam miferam. 
 Quia quibus fubvenire non valet aerumnis , tolerare 
 non poteil. 
 
 Tibi vero nec noflra vel etiam mifera conceffum 
 eft frui praefentia. Nec ubi tuis in me commodis 
 aliquid provideas , cur me miferrime vivere malis 
 quam felicius mori, non video. Quod fi noftras pro- 
 tendi miferias in commoda tua defideras , hoftis 
 potius , quam amica convinceris. Quod fi videri 
 rcfirgis , ab his,obfecro, ficut dixi, quiefee queri- 
 moniis. I 
 
 Approbo autem, quod reprobas, laudem; quia 
 in hoc ipfo te laudabiliorem offendis. Scriptum 
 eft enim: ujuftus in primordio accufator eft fui :8c 
 ii qui fe humiliat fe exaltat.” Atque utinam fic fit in 
 
332 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 animo tuo ficut in fcripto ! Quod fi fuerit, vera eft 
 humilitas tua, nc pro noftris evanuerit verbis. Sed 
 vide, obfecro,ne hoc ipfo laudem quieras, quolaudera 
 fugere videns , & reprobes illud ore, quod appetas 
 corde. De quo ad Euftochiura virginem fic inter 
 cstera Beatus fcribit Hieronymus: u Naturali duci- 
 ii mur malo. Adulatoribus noftris libenter favemus , 
 t< S: quamquam nos refpondeamus indignos, 8c cali- 
 dior rubor ora fuftundat, attamen ad laudem fuam 
 ti intrinfecus anima laetatur. ” Talem 8c iafciva: 
 calliditatem Galatheae Virgilius defcribit, quse quod 
 volebat fugiendo appetebat , 8c fimulatione repulfe 
 amplius infe amantem incitabat : u Et fugit ad falices.” 
 inquit, 8c fe cupit ante videri.” Antequam 
 lateat, cupit fe fugientem videri, ut ipfa fuga, qua 
 reprobare confortium juvenis videtur, amplius ac- 
 quirat. Sic 8c laudes hominum dum fugere videmur, 
 amplius erga nos excitamus , 8c cum latere nos velle 
 fimulamus , ne quis fcilicet in nobis, quid laudet , 
 agnofcat , amplius attendimus in laudem noftram 
 impudentes , quia eo laude videmur digniores. 
 
 Et haec quidem , quia fsepe accidunt , dicimus « 
 non quia de te talia fufpicemur, qui de tua non 
 haefttamus humilitate. Sed ab his etiam verbis tc 
 temperare volumus , ne his qui te minus noverint, 
 videaris , ut ait Hieronymus , fugiendo gloriam 
 quaerere. Nunquam te mea laus inflabit , fed ad 
 meliora piovocabit, et tanto ftudiofius quae laudavero 
 amplederis quanto mihi amplius placere fatagis. 
 Non eft laus noftra teftimonium tibi religionis , ut 
 hinc aliquid extollentis fumas. Nec de commenda- 
 tione cujufquam amicis credendum eft, ficut nec 
 inimicis de vituperatione. 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 333 
 
 Supereft tandem , ut ad antiquam illam , ut dixi- 
 mus , 8c afliduam querimoniam tuam veniamus , 
 quia videlicet de noftrse converfionis modo Deum 
 potius accufare praefumis , quam glorificare , itt juftum 
 fell , velis. Hanc jamdudum amaritudinem animi 
 tui tam manifefto divinae mifericordiae confilio eva- 
 nuifTe credideram. Quae quanto tibi periculofior 
 eft , corpus tuum pariter 8c animam conterens ; tanto 
 miferabilior eft , &: mihi moleftior. Quee cum mihi 
 per omnia placere , ficut profiteris , ftudeas , hoc 
 faltem uno ut me non crucies , imo ut mihi fummo- 
 pere placeas , hanc depone. Cum qua mihi non 
 potes placere , neque mecum ad beatitiidinem per- 
 venire. Suftinebis illuc me fine te pergere ^ quem 
 etiam ad Vulcania profiteris te fequi velle ? Hoc 
 faltem uno religionem appete, ne a me ad Deum, 
 Ut credis, properarrte dividaris, 8c tanto libentius, 
 quanto quO veniendum nobis eft beatius eft ; ut 
 tanto fcilicet focietas noftra fit gratior, quanto feli- 
 cior. Memento quas dixeris. Recordare quae ferip- 
 feris , in hoc videlicet noftrae converfionis modo , 
 quo mihi Deus amplius adverfari creditur , propi- 
 tiorem mihi , ficut manifeftum eft , extitifFe. Hoc 
 uno faltem haec ejus difpofitio tibi placeat , quod 
 mihi fit faluberrima , imo mihi pariter 8c tibi , fi 
 rationem vis doloris admittat. Nec te tanti boni 
 caufam efiTe doleas, ad quod te a Deo maxime crea- 
 tam effe non dubites. Nec quia id tulerim plangas, 
 nifi cum Martyrum paffionum , ipfiufque Dominicas 
 mortis commoda te contriftabunt. Nunquidfi id mihi 
 jufte accidiffet, tolerabilius ferres, 8c minus te offen- 
 deret? Profccfto fi fic fieret , eo modo contingeret quo 
 mihi effet ignominiofius,8cinimicislaudabilius; cum illis 
 
334 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 laudem juflitia , Sc mihi contemptum acquireret cul- 
 pa. Nec jam quifquam quod adum eft accufaret, 
 ut compaflione mei moveretur. 
 
 Ut tamen Sc hoc modo hujus amaritudinem do- 
 loris leniamus ; tam jufte quam utiliter id monftra- 
 bimus nobis accidifTe, Sc reftius in conjugatos quam 
 in fornicantes ultum Deum fuiflTe. Nofti poft noftri 
 confoederationem conjugii , cum Argenteoli cum 
 San^limonialib us in clauftro converfabaris , me dic 
 quadam privatim ad te vifitandam vcnilTe, Sc quid 
 ibi tecum mea: libidinis egerit intemperantia in qua- 
 dam etiam parte ipfius refe(ftorii , cum quo alias 
 diverteremus , non haberemus. Nofti , inquam , 
 id impudentiflime tunc aftum elTe in tam reveren- 
 do loco Sc fummsc Virgini confecrato. Quod, etfi 
 alia cefTent flagitia , multo graviore dignum fit ultione. 
 Quid priftinas fornicationes Sc impudentiflimas re- 
 feram pollutiones quae conjugium praeceflerunt? Quid 
 fummam denique proditionem mea'm , qua de te 
 ipfa tuum , cum quo alfidue in ejus domo convi- 
 vebam , avunculum tam turpiter feduxi? Qjuiis mc 
 ab eo jufte prodi non cenfeat, quem tam impuden- 
 ter ante ipfe prodideram ? Putas ad tantorum cri- 
 minum ultionem momentaneum illius plagae dolo- 
 rem fufficere ? Imo tantis malis tantum debitum eUe 
 commodum ? Quam plagam divinae fulhcere jufti- 
 tix credis ad tantam contaminationem , ut diximus, 
 facerrimi loci fuae matris ? Certe nifi vehementer 
 erro , non tam illa faluberrima plaga in ultionem 
 horum converfa eft , quam quae hodie indefinenter 
 fuftineo. 
 
 Nofti etiam quando te gravidam in meam tranf- 
 mifi patriam , facro te habitu indutam , Monialem 
 
 \ 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 333 
 
 te finxilTe, tali fimulatione tuse , quam nunc habes, 
 religioni, irreverenter illufifl'e.Unde etiam penfa,quam 
 convenienter ad hanc te religionem divina juilitia , 
 imo gratia traxerit nolentem, cui verita non es il- 
 ludere , volens, ut in ipfo luas habitu , quod in ip- 
 fum deliquifti , fimulationis raendacio ipfa rei ve- 
 ritas remedium prteftet, 8c falfitatcm emendet. 
 
 Qrrod fi divinae in nobis juhitiae noftram velis 
 utilitatem adjungere, non tam juflitiara , quam gra- 
 tiam Dei quod tunc egit in nobis poteris appellare. 
 Attende , itaque , attende , chariffiraa , quibus mi- 
 fericordiae fuse retibus a profundo hujus tam peri- 
 culofi maris nos Dominus pifcaverit , &: a quantae 
 Charybdis voragine naufragos ,. licet invitos , extra- 
 xerit , ut merito uterque nohrura in illam prorum- 
 pere poffe videatur vocem : u Dominus follicitus eft 
 ii mei.” Cogita 8c recogita , in quantis ipfi nos pe- 
 riculis conftituti eramus , 8c a quantis nos eruerit 
 Dominus : 8: ixarra femper cum fumma gratiarum 
 a£lione, quanta fecit Dominus animae noftrae : et 
 quoflibet iniquos de bonitate Domini defperantes 
 noflro confolare exemplo , ut advertant omnes quid 
 fupplicantibus atque petentibus fiat, cum tam pec- 
 catoribus & invitis tanta praeftentur beneficia. Per- 
 pende altiffimum in nobis divinas confilium pietatis, 
 quam mifericorditer judicium fuum Dominus in. 
 correptionem verterit , 8c quam prudenter malis 
 quoque ipfis ufus fit , impietatem pie depofuerit, 
 ut unius partis corporis mei juftiffima plaga duabus 
 mederetur animabus. Confer periculum 8c libera- 
 tionis modum. Confer languorem medicinam., 
 Meritorm caufas infpice , 8c miferationis affeftus ad- 
 mirare. — Nofti quantis turpitudinibus imjnoderata 
 
336 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 mea libido corpora noftra addixerat , ut nulla ho- 
 neftatis vel Dei reverentia in ipfis etiam diebus 
 Dominicae Paflionis , vel quantarumcumque folen- 
 nitatuni ab hujus luti volutabro me revocaret. Sed 
 8c te nolentem , 8c prout poteras reludantem 8c dif- 
 fuadentem , quae natura infirmior cras , fafepius minis 
 ac flagellis ad confenfum trahebam. Tanto enim 
 tibi concupifcentiae ardore copulatus eram , ut mi- 
 feras illas 8c obfcceniflimas voluptates , quas etiam 
 nominare confundimur , tam Deo , quam mihi ipfi 
 praeponerem : nec tara aliter confulere pofTe divina 
 videretur clementia , nili has mihi voluptates fine 
 fpe ulla omnino interdiceret. — Unde juftiflime 8c 
 clementiflime , licet cum fumma tui avunculi prodi- 
 tione , ut in multis erefcerem , parte ilia corpo- 
 ris fum minutus , in qua libidinis regnum erat , 8c 
 tota hujus concupifcentiae caufa confiftcbat : ut jufle 
 illud plederetur membrum, quod in nobis commi- 
 ferat totum, Sc expiaret patiendo , quod delicjuerat 
 oblectando : 8c ab his me fpurcitiis , quibi;s me to- 
 tum quafi luto immerferam , tam mente quam cor- 
 pore circumcideret : 8c tanto facris etiam altaribus 
 idoniorem efficeret , quanto me nulla hinc amplius 
 Carnalium contagia pollutionum revocarent. Quam 
 clementer etiam in eo tantum me pati voluit mem- 
 bro , cujus privatio 8c animae faluti confuleret , 8c 
 corpus non deterparet , nec ullam officiorum mi- 
 niftrationem praepediret. Imo ad omnia , quae ho- 
 hefle geruntur , tanto me promptiorem efficeret , 
 quanto ab hoc concupifcentiae jugo maximo amplius 
 liberaret. Cum itaque membris his viliffimis, quae 
 pro fuminae turpitudinis exercitio pudenda vocan- 
 tur , nec proprium fuftinent nomen, me divina 
 
 gratia 
 
AELILLAliDANDHELOibA. SSy 
 
 gratia mundavit, potius quam privavit, quid aliud 
 egit quam ad puritatem mirndiciae confervahdam 
 fordida removit vitia ? — -Hanc quidem mundicias 
 puritatem nonnullos fapientium vebementiffirne appe- 
 tentes inferre etiam fibi manum audivimus, ut hoc 
 a fc penitus removerent concupifcentite liagitium* 
 Pro quo etiam Pimvdo carnis auferendo 8c Apoftolus 
 perhibetur Dominum rogalTe , nec exauditum effe. 
 in exemplo eft iilc magnus Chriftianorum Philofo- 
 phus Origencs, qvd, ut hoc in fe penitus incendium 
 extingueret , inamis fibi inferre veritus non eft : ac 
 fi illos ad litteram vere beatos inteliigeret , qui 
 feipfos propter regnum cceicrurn caftraverrrnt ^ 
 tales illud veraciter implere crederet , quod de 
 membris fcandali/.aniibus nobis prsecipit Dominus , 
 ut ea fcilicet a nebis abfeindamus projiciamus , 
 8c quaft illam Ifaix Prophetiam ad hiftoriam magis 
 quam ad myiierium duceret, perquam caeteris fideli- 
 bus Eunuchos Dominus praefert, dicens; u Eunuchi 
 ii fi cuftodicrint fabbatha mea, 'k elegerint quas volui, 
 ii dabo cis ih domo mea 8-: in muris meis locum, 
 ii if: noihen melius a filiis &: filiabus. Nomen fempi- 
 ii ternum dabo eis , quod non peribit.” Culpam 
 tamen non modicam Origenes incurrit , dum per 
 pcenam corporis remedium culpae quaerit. — Zelum 
 quippe Dei habens, fed non fecuhdurri fcientiam , 
 liomicidii , incurrit reatum inferendo fibi manhm. 
 Suggeflione diabolica , vel errore maxirno id ab 
 ipfo conftat effc fa^um , quod mlferatione Dei , in 
 me eft ab alio perpetratum. Culpant evito , non 
 jnciirro. Mortem niercor. S: vitam affequor. Vocor, 
 8c reludor. lafto criminibus , ad veniam trahor 
 invitus. Orat Apoftolus nec exauditur; Precibus 
 
 VOL. II. Z 
 
338 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 inftat , nec impetrat. Verc Dominus follicitus eft 
 mei. Vadam igitur 8c narrabo quanta fecit Dominus 
 animse mese. 
 
 Accede 8c tu infeparabi'is comes in uua giatlarurn. 
 a<ftione , qua: 8c culpse particeps fafta es 8c gratiae. 
 Nam 8c tua Dominus non immemor falutis , imo 
 plurimum tui memor , qui etiamfanfto quodam nomi- 
 nis praefagio te praecipue fuam fore praefignavit , cum 
 te videlicet IleloilTam ex proprio nomine fuo , tjuod 
 eft Heloym , infigiiivit. 
 
 Ipfe , inquam, clementer difpofuit in uno duobus 
 confulere , quos diabolus in uno nitebatur extin- 
 guere. Paululum enim antequam hoc accideret , 
 nos indilTolubilis lex facramenti nuptialis invicem 
 adftrinxerat , cum cuperem te mihi fupra modum 
 dile<ftam in perpetuum retinere , imo cum ipfe jam 
 tradaret ad fe nos ambos hac occafione convertere. 
 
 ■ — 'Si enimmihi antea matrimonio non elTes copulata, 
 facile in difceffu meoafaeculo , vel fuggeftione paren- 
 tum , vel carnalium obleftatione voluptatum, faeculo 
 inhaefilTes. Vide ergo quantum follicitus noftri fuerit 
 Dominus , quafi ad magnos aliquos nos refervaret 
 ufus , 8c quafi indignaretur aut doleret , illa literalis 
 fcientiae talenta, quce utrique noftrum commiferat , 
 ad fui nominis honorem non difpenfari : aut quafi 
 etiam de incontinentilfiino fervulo vereretur, quod 
 fcriptum eft , u Quia mulieres faciunt etiam apofta- 
 tt tare fapientes. ” Sicut de fapientilfimo certum eft 
 Salomone. 
 
 Tuas vero prudentiae talentum quantas quotidie 
 Domino referat ufuras , quae multas domino jam 
 fpirituaies filias peperifti , me penitus fterili perma- 
 nente , 8c in filiis perditionis inaniter laborante. O 
 
ABEILLARD AND KELOISA. 33g 
 
 qiiam deteftabile damnum! quam lamentabile incom- 
 modum, fi carnalium voluptatum fordibus vacans pau- 
 cos cum dolore pareres mundo, quae nuncmultiplicem 
 prolem cum exultatione parturis ccelo ! Nec elTes 
 plus quam ftemina, qu:e nunc etiam viros tranfcen- 
 dis, 8c quae maledidlionem Evae in benedidlionem 
 vertifti Mariae. O quam indecenter manus illae facrae, 
 quae nunc etiam divina revolvunt volumina . curae 
 muliebris obfccenitatibus defervurent I — Ipfe nos a 
 contagiis h’ajus cocni , a voluptatibus hujus luti 
 dignatus eft erigere k ad feipfum vi quadam attra- 
 here , qua pcrculTura voluit Paulum convertere, Sc 
 hoc ipfo fortaffis exemplo noftro, alios quoque litera- 
 nim peritos ab hac deterrere praefumptione. 
 
 Ne te id igitur, foror, obfecro moveat , nec patri 
 paterne nos corrigenti fis molefta; fed attende quod 
 feriptum cft : u Quos diligit Deus , hos corripit. 
 li Cafligat autem omnem flium quem recipit.” Et 
 alibi, “Qui parcit virgae, odit filium.” P cena eft 
 haec momentanea , non aeterna ; purgationis , non 
 damnationis. Audi Prophetam , confortare : 
 “ Non judicabit Dominus bis in id ipfum , 8c non 
 ii confurget duplex tribulatio.” Attende fummam 
 illam k maximam Veritatis adhortationem : a In 
 ;c patientia veftra poffidebitis animas veftras.” Unde 
 8c Salomon: “ Melior eft patiens viro forti, 8c qui 
 “ dominatur animo fuo , expugnatore urbium.” 
 
 Non te ad lachrymas , aut ad compuniftionera 
 movet unigenitus Dei innocens pro te 2c omnibus, 
 ab impiiflfimls comprehenfus , diftradlus , flagellatus, 
 8c velata facie illufus, 8c colaphizatus , fputls conf- 
 perfus, fpinis coronatus, 8c tandem in illo crucis 
 t;uuc tam ignominiofo patibulo inter latrones fufpen* 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 
 
 THE LE ITERS OF 
 
 fus , atque illo tunc horrendo , S: execrabili generc 
 mortis interfectus ? Hunc feinper , foror , verum 
 tuum 8c totius Eccleu® Sponfura prs oculis habe , 
 mente gere. Intuere hunc exeuntem ad crucifigen- 
 dum pro te 8: bajulantem fibi crucem. Elio de po- 
 pulo & mulieribus , qusc plangebant lamentaban- 
 tur eum , ficut Lucas his verbis narrat : n Sequebatur 
 1 « autem multa turba populi 8c mulierum , quae plange- 
 ii bant Sc lamentabantur eum. ” Ad quas quidem 
 benigne converfus , clementer eis praedixit futurum 
 in ultionem fuae mortis exitium , a quo quidem fi 
 faperent , cavere fibi per hoc pollent, u Filias , inquit , 
 ti Hierufalem , nolite flere fupcr me, fedfupervos 
 ii ipfas flete, 8c fuper filios veflros. Quoniam ecce 
 tt venient dies in quibrts dicent : Beatae fleriles, &: 
 ventres qui non genuerunt , 8: ubera quae non 
 ,tt ladaverunt. Tunc incipient dicere montibus , 
 ii Cadite fuper nos ; &: collibus, Operite nos. Quia 
 (( fi in viridi ligno haec faciunt, in arido quid fiet?” 
 — Patienti fponte pro redemptione tua compatere , 
 8c fuper crucifixo pro te compungere. — Sepulchre 
 ejus mente femper aflTilte , 8c cum fidelibus fceminis 
 lamentare luge. De quibus ^ etiam ut jam fupra 
 memini feriptum eft , a Mulieres fedentes ad monu- 
 li mentum lamentabantur flentes Dominum.” Para 
 cum illis fepulturac ejus Unguenta, fed meliora, fpiri- 
 tualia quidem , non corporalia : haec enim requirit 
 aromata , qui non fufeepit illa. Super his toto 
 devotionis affeClu compungere. — Ad quam quidem 
 CDmpaflionis compunClionem ipfe etiam per Hiere- 
 miam fideles adhortatur dicens : u O vos omnes qui 
 li tranfitis perviam , attendite 8c videte , fi eft dolor 
 ii fimilis ficut dolor meus.” Id efl , fi fuper aliquo 
 
A B E I L L A R D AND II E L O I S A. 341 
 
 patiente ita eft per compaflionem dolendum , cum 
 ego fcilicet folus line culpa , quod alii deliquerint, 
 luam. Ipfe autem eft via, per quam lideles de exilio 
 tranfeant ad patriam. — Qui etiam crucem, de qua 
 fic clamat, ad hoc, nobis erexit fcalaiu. Hic pro 
 te occifus eft unigenitus Dei, oblatus eft, quia voluit. 
 Super hoc uno compatiendo dole , dolendo compa- 
 tere. Et quod per Zachariam Prophetam de aniraa- 
 bus devotis praedidum eft comple ; u Plangent, inquit, 
 ii piandum, quaft fuper unigenitum, &: dolebunt 
 ii fuper eum , ut doleri folet in morte primogeniti.” 
 Vide, Soror, quantus fit piandus, his qui Regem 
 diligunt fuper morte primogeniti ejus 8 c unigeniti. 
 Intuere quo plandu familia, quo moerore tota eon- 
 fummatnr Curia, 8 c, cum ad Sponfam unigeniti mortui 
 perveneris, intolerabiles ululatus ejus non fuftinebis. 
 — Hic tuus. Soror, piandas, hic tuus fit ululatus, 
 quae te huic Sponfo felici copulafti matrimonio. Emit 
 te ifle non fuis , fed feipfo. Proprio fanguine emit 
 te, 8 c redemit. Qiiantura jus in te habeat vide, 8 c 
 quam preciofa fis intuere. — Hoc quidem pretium 
 fuum Apoftolus attendens, 8 c in hoc pretio quanti 
 fit ipfe, pro quo ipfum datur, perpendens, &: quam 
 tantae gratiae vicem referat adnedens : a Abfit mihi , 
 (( inquit, gloriari nifi in cruce Domini noftri Jefu 
 ii Chrifli , per quem mihi mundus crucifixus eft , 8 c 
 ii ego mundo.” Major es coelo , major es mundo; 
 cujus pretium ipfe conditor mundi fadus eft. Quid 
 in te, rogo, viderit, qui nullius eget, ut pro te 
 acquirenda ufque ad agonias tam horrendae atque 
 ignominiofae mortis certaverit ? Quid in te, inquam, 
 quaerit nifi teipfam? Verus eft amicus , qui te ipfam. 
 non tua deliderat. Verus eft amicus , qui pro te 
 
 Z 3 
 
TPIE LETTERS OF 
 
 34 « 
 
 moriturus dicebat, u Majorem hac diledionera nemo 
 «« habet, ut animam fuam ponat quis pro amicis fuis.” 
 Amabat te ille veraciter, non ego. Amor meus, 
 quiutruraque nottrum peccatis involvebat, concupif- 
 centia, non amor dicendas elh Miferas in te meas 
 voluptates implebam , 'k hoc erat totum quod ama- 
 bam. Pro te, inquis , pafTus fum , S; fortalTis verum 
 eft : fed magis per te , hoc ipfum invitus. Non 
 amore tui , fed coa^lione mei. Nec ad tuam falutem 
 fed ad dolorem. Ille vero falubriter , ille pro tc 
 fponte paffus eft , qui paffione fua omnem curat 
 languorem , omnem removet palfionem. In hoc , 
 obfecro , non in me tua tota fit devotio , tota com- 
 paffio, tota compundio. Dole in tam innocentem 
 tantae crudelitatis perpetratam iniquitatem ; non 
 juftam in me aequitatis vindicftam , imo gratiam, ut 
 dicftum eft , in utrofque fummam. 
 
 Iniqua enim es , fi aequitatem, non amas ; et ini- 
 quiffima, fi voluntati , imo tantae gratiae Dei fcienter 
 es adverfa. Plange tuum reparatorem, non corrup- 
 torem: redemptorem, non fcortatorem : pro te mor- 
 tuum Dominum , non viventem fervum , imo nunc 
 primum de morte vere liberatum. — Cave obfecro 
 ne, quod dixit Pompeius moerenti Corneliae, tibi 
 improperetur turpiftime. — Attende , precor , id, 8e 
 crubefee , nifi admiffas turpitudines impudentiffimas 
 commendes. 
 
 Accipe itaque. Soror, accipe quaefo patienter, 
 quae nobis acciderunt mifericorditer. Virga haec eft 
 patris, non gladius perfecutoris. Percutit pater, ut 
 corrigat, ne feriat hoftis, ut occidat. Vulnere mor- 
 tem praevenit, non ingerit : immittit ferrum, ut ampu- 
 tet morbum. Corpus vulnerat, 8c animam fanat. 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 345 
 
 Occidere debuerat, Sc vivificat. Immunditiam refe- 
 cat, ut mundum relinquat. Punit femel, ne puniat 
 femper. Patitur Unus ex vulnere , ut duobus parca- 
 tur a morte. Duo in culpa, unus in pcena. — Id 
 quoque tuae infirmitati naturae divina indulgetur 
 miferatione , 8c quodam modo jutte. Quo enim 
 naturaliter fexu infirmior eras, Se fortior continentia, 
 poenae minus eras obnoxia. Piefero Domino in hoc 
 gratias, quite tunc, Sc a pcena liberavit, 8c ad coro- 
 nam refervavit; Sccum me una corporis mei paffione 
 femel ab omni seftu hujus concupifeentiae , in qua 
 una totus per immoderatam incontinentiam occupa- 
 tus eram, refrigeravit, ne corruam ; multas adolef- 
 centiae tuae majores animi paffiones ex affidua carnis 
 fuggeftione, refervavit ad martyrii coronam. Quod 
 licet te audire t^deat , 8c dici prohibeas ; veritas 
 tamen id loquitur manifefla. Cui enim femper elt 
 pugna, fuperefl S: corona, quia non coronabitur nifi 
 qui legitime certaverit. 
 
 Mihi vero nulla fuperefl corona, quia nulla fubeft 
 certaminis caufa. Deeft materia pugnae , cui abla- 
 tus eft fUmulus concupifeentiae. Aliquid tamen 
 effe seftim.o , fi cum hinc nullam percipiam coro- 
 nam , nonullam tamen evitem poenam , 8c dolore 
 unius momentaneae poenae multis fortaffis indulgea- 
 tur aeternis. Scriptum efl quippe de hujus miferri- 
 mae vitae hominibus , imo jumentis : Computrue- 
 
 (( runt jumenta in flercoribus fuis.” — Minus quo- 
 que meritum meum minui conqueror , dum tuum 
 crefeere non diffido. Unum quippe fumus in 
 Chrifto, una per legem matrimonii caro. Quicquid 
 efl tuum , mihi non arbitror alienum. Tuus autem 
 efl Chriflus, quia fada es fponfa ejus. Et nunc, 
 
 Z 4 
 
344 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 ut fupra memini , me babes fervum , quern dim 
 agnofcebas Dominum : magis tibi tamen amore nunc 
 fpirituali conjungium , quam timore fubjeclum. 
 Unde de tuo nobis apud ipfura patrocinio am- 
 plius confidimus : ut id obtineam ex tua quod non 
 pofTum ex oratione propria. Et nunc maxime cum 
 quotidiana periculorum , aut perturbationum inflan- 
 tia , nec vivere rae, nec orationi finat vacare, nec 
 illum beatiffimum imitari potentem Gandacis Reginae 
 yEthiopum , qui erat fuper omnes gazas ejus , 8<; 
 de tam longinquo venerat adorare in HieruLlem, 
 Ad quem revertentem miffus eft ah angelo Philip- 
 pus Apoftolus, ut eum converteret ad fidem : quod 
 jam ille meruerat per orationem ; vel facrae ledio- 
 nis afliduitatem. A qua quidem ut nec in via tunc 
 vacaret, licet ditilTimus S; gentilis, magno divinas 
 difpenfationis aftum eft beneficio , ut locus ei Scrip- 
 turae occurreret, qui opportuniffimam converfionis 
 ejus occafionera Apoftolo praeberet. 
 
 Ne quid vero hanc petitionem noflram impediat, 
 vel impleri dillerat, orationem quoque ipfam , quam 
 pro nobis domino fupplices dicatis , componere , 
 Sc dimittere tibi maturavi. 
 
 ORATIO, 
 
 ti Deus, qui ab ipfo humanae creationis exordio , 
 faemina de cofta viri formata, nuptialis copulx 
 a facramentum maximum fanxlfli , quique immen- 
 fis honoribus , vel de defponfata nafcendo , vel 
 ii miracula inchoando , nuptias fublimafti, meaeque 
 ii etiam fragilitatis incontinentiae, utcumque tibi pla- 
 it cuit, olim hoc remedium indulfilli : Ne defpi- 
 ii cias anediuix tux preces , quas pro meis ipfis 
 
ABEILI, \RD AND HE TO IS A. 3i5 
 
 u chariqiae mci exceffibixs in confpeilu majc flatis 
 K tuae fupplex efFundo. Ignofce , 6 Ecnigniffirae , 
 imo Benignitas ipfa ; ignofce Sc tantis cvirainibns 
 u noftris : Sc ineffabilis mifericordis tuse multitudl- 
 (t dinem culparum nollramm iminenfitas experiatur. 
 a Puni obfecro in piatfenti reos , ut parcas in fu- 
 a turo. Puni ad horam, ne punias in aeternum. 
 £4 Accipe in fervos virgam correfticnis , non gladium. 
 ££ furoris. Afflige carnem , ut conferves animas. 
 ££ Adfis purgator, non ultor; benignus magis quam 
 ii jullus ; Pater mifericors , non auflerus Dominus. 
 ££ — Proba nos Domine S: tenta , ficut de femet- 
 ££ ipfo rogat Propheta. Ac fi aperte diceret: Prius 
 ȣ vires infpice , ac fecundum eas , tentationum 
 «£ onera moderare. Quod 8c Beatus Paulus fideli- 
 ££ bus tuis promittens ait: Potens eft enim Deus , 
 ££ qui non patietur vos tentari fupra id quod po- 
 ££ teftis, fed faciet cum tentatione etiam proven- 
 te tum ut poffltis fuflinere. — Conjunxifti nos, Do- 
 te mine, Sc divififli quando placuit tibi. Sequo modo 
 ee placuit. Nunc quod , Domine , mifericorditer 
 te ccepifti, mifericordifflme comple. Et quos a fe fe- 
 te mei divififli in mundo , perenniter tibi conjugas 
 te in coclc, Spes noflra , pars noftra , expe^atio 
 ce noftra, confoiatio noftra, Domine qui es bene- 
 ee diiftus in fsecula. Arnen.” 
 
 Vale in Chrifto, Sponfa Chriffi , in Chrifto vale, 
 8c Chrifto vive. Arnen. 
 
346 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 EPISTOLA III. 
 
 H E L 0 I S S 
 Domino fpecialiter , fua Jingularher. 
 
 ^^E me forte in aliquo de inobedientia caufari 
 queas , verbis etiain immoderati doloris tuae frenum 
 impolitum eft juflionis, ut ab his mihi faltem in fcrh 
 bendo temperem , a quibus in fermone non tam 
 difhcile , quam impoffible eft providere. — Nihil 
 enim minus in noftra eft poteftate quam animus , 
 eique magis obedire cogimur , quam imperare pof- 
 limus. Unde Si cum nos ejus affeftiones ftimulant, 
 nemo earum fubitos impulfus ita repulerit , ut non 
 in effeda facile prorumpant , 8c fe per verba facilius 
 effluant, quae promptiores animi paffionum funt 
 notae. Secundum quod fcriptum eft , u Ex abun- 
 4« dantia cordis os loquitur.” Revocabo itaque ma- 
 num a fcripto , in quibus linguam a verbis tempe- 
 rare non valeo. Utinam lie animus dolentis parere 
 promptus fit, quemadmodum dextra feribentis. 
 
 Aliquod tamen dolori remedium vales conferre, 
 fi non hunc omnino poffis auferre. Ut enim infer- 
 tum clavum alius expellit , fic cogitatio nova prio- 
 rem excludit. Cura alias intentus animus priorum 
 memoriam dimittere cogitur aut intermittere. Tan- 
 to vero amplius cogitatio quaelibet animum occu- 
 pat , 8c ab aliis deducit ; quanto quod cogitatur 
 honeftius aeftimatur , 8c quo intendimus animum 
 magis videtur necelTarium. 
 
 Omnes itaque nos Chrifti ancillae , 8c in Chrifto 
 filiae tuae , duo nunc a tua paternitate fupplices po- 
 
ABEILLARD AND H E L O I S A. 347 
 
 flulamus , quse nobis admodum necciTaria provide- 
 mus. Qiiorum quidem alterum eft , ut nos inftruere 
 velis, unde San6limonialium Ordo coeperit, 8c qu?c 
 noftrse lit profefflonis authoritas. Alterum vero eft, 
 ut aliquam nobis Regulam inftiluas , 8c fcriptam 
 dirigas, quas lieniinarum fit propria, 8c ex integro no- 
 ftrae converfationis flatumhabitumque defcribat; qrod 
 nondum a Patribus fandtis a6lum effe confpeximus. 
 Cujus quidem rei defe<ftu 8c indigentia nunc agitur , 
 ut ad ejufdeiu Regulae profelfionem , tam mares quam 
 faeminae in Monafteriis fufcipiantur , 8c idem inttitu- 
 tionis Monafticae jugum imponitur infirmo fexui , aeque 
 ut forti. Unam quippe nunc Regulam Beati Bene- 
 dicfti apud Latinos faeminae profitentur , asque ut 
 viri. Quam ficut viris folummodo conftat fcriptam 
 elfe , ita 8c ab ipfts tantum impleri polfe tam fub- 
 je6tis, pariter quam praelatis. Ut enim ceetera nunc 
 omittam Regulae capitula , quid ad fteminas , qrtod 
 de cucullis , femoralibus , 8c fcapularibus ibi fcrip- 
 tum ett ? Quid denique ad ipfas de tunicis aut de 
 lancis ad carnem indumentis ; cum earum humoris 
 fuperflui meuftruae purgationes haec omnino refu- 
 giant ? Quid ad ipfas etiam , quod de x\bbate fta- 
 tuitur, ut ipfe ledioncm dicat Eva^ngelicaxtr, Scpoft ip- 
 fam Hymnum incipiat ? Quid de menfa Abbatis feor- 
 hm cum peregrinis 8c hofpitibus conftituenda: Nun- 
 quid noftrae convenit religioni , ut vel nunquarrr 
 hofpitium viris praebeat , aut cum his , quos fufce- 
 perit viris , Abbatilfa comedat ? O quam facilis ad 
 ruinam animarum virorum ac mulierum in unum 
 cohabitatio ! Maxime vero in menfa , ubi crapula 
 dominatur 8c ebrietas , 8c vinum in dulcedine bibi- 
 tur : in quo eft luxuria. 
 
THE LETTERS OF 
 
 348 
 
 Quod Sc Beatus prxcavens Hieronymus, adiuatrcm 
 Sc fdiam fcribens , meminit dicens : Difficile inter 
 
 t; epulas fervatur pudicitia.” Ipfe quoque Poeta, 
 luxurise turpitudinifque dodor, Libro Amatoriae artis 
 intitulato, quantam fornicationis occafionem convi- 
 via maxime praebeant , lludiofe exequitur dicens ; 
 
 Vinaque cum bibulas fparfere Cupidinis alas , 
 
 Permanet , & capto flat gravis ille loco , 
 
 Tum veniunt rifus : tum pauper cornua fumit: 
 
 Tum dolor & cuts : rugaque frontis abit. 
 
 Illic fxpe animos juvenum rapuere puellae ; 
 
 Et Venus in venis , ignis in igne furit. 
 
 Nunquid Sc fi faeminas folas hofpitio fufceptas ad 
 menfam admiferint , nullum ibi latet periculum? 
 Certe in feducenda muliere nullum eft aeque facile 
 ut lenocinium muliebre. Nec corruptae mentis tur- 
 pitudinem ita prompte cuiquain mulier committit 
 ficut mulieri. Unde Sc praedidus Hieronymus maxime 
 feecularium acceffus faeminarum vitare propofiti fandi 
 faeminas adhortatur. — Denique fi viris ab hofpitali- 
 tate noflra exclulis, folas admittamus faeminas, quis 
 non videat quanta exafperatione viros offendamus, 
 quorum beneficiis Monafteria fexus infirmi egent ^ 
 maxime fi eis, a quibus plus accipiunt , minus, aut 
 omnino nihil largiri videantur ? 
 
 Quod fi praedidae Regulae tenor a nobis impleri 
 non potell, vereor ne illud Apoftoli Jacobi in nof- 
 tram quoque damnationem didum fit : u Qiiicunque 
 (( totam legem obfervaverit , offendat autem in uno , 
 tt fadus eft omnium reus,” Quod eft dicere: De hoc 
 ipfo reus ftatuitur qui peragit multa : quod non im- 
 plet omnia. Et tranfgreffor legis efficitur ex uno , cujus 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA, 349 
 
 impletor non fuerit , nifi confummatis omnibus ejus 
 prseceptis. Quod ipfe ftatim diligenter exponens 
 Apoftolus adjecit : u Qui enim dixit : Non moecha- 
 u beris, dixit 2c, Non occides. Quod fi non moecha- 
 beris , occidas autem, faftus 8c tranfgrefTor legis.” Ac 
 fi aperte dicat; Ideo quilibet reus fit de trangreflione 
 uniufcujuflibetprjecepti, quiaipfe Dominus, qui prae- 
 cipit unum , praecipit 8c aliud. Et quodcunque legis 
 violetur praeceptum , ipfe contemnitur , qui legem 
 non in uno , fed in omnibuspariter mandatis conftituit. 
 
 Ut autem praeteream illa regulae inftituta , quae 
 penitus obfervare non poflumus , aut line periculo 
 non valemus ; Ubi unquam ad colligendas melTes 
 Conventus Monlalium exire , vel labores agrorum 
 habere confuevit ? Aut fufeipiendarum faeminarum 
 conftantiam uno anno probaverit , eafque tertio 
 perleda regula , ficut in ipfa jubetur , inllruxerit ? 
 Quid rurfum flultius, quam viam ignotam , nec adhuc 
 demonftratam aggredi? Quid praefumptuofius quam 
 I eligere ac profiteri vitam, quam nefeias, aut votum 
 I facere , quod implere non queas ? Sed 8c cum omnium 
 , virtutum diferetio fit mater, 8c omnium bonorum 
 
 1 mediatrix fit ratio ; quis aut virtutem aut bonum cen- 
 
 feat, quod ab iftis difiTentire videatur ! Ipfas quippe 
 virtutes excedentes modum atque menfuram , ficut 
 ! Hieronymus aflferit , inter vitia reputari convenit. 
 
 ' Quis autem ab omni ratione ac diferetione fcjun<Rum 
 non videat, fi ad imponenda onera eorum quibus 
 imponuntur , valitudines prius non difeutiantur , 
 ut naturae conftitutionem humana fequatur induftria ? 
 Quis afinum farcina tanta , qua dignum judicat elc- 
 ■ phantem? Quis tanta pueris aut fenibus, quanta viris 
 injungat? Tanta debilibus fcilicet quanta fortibus , 
 
35o 
 
 THE LETTEKS OF 
 
 tanta infirmis , quanta fanis , tanta fceminis , quanta 
 maribus 'r Infirmiori videlicet fexui , quanta 8c forti? 
 Quod diligenter Beatus Papa Gregorius attendens , 
 Pafioralis fui cap. xiv. tam dc admonendis , quam 
 de praecipiendis ita diftinxit : u Aliter igitur admo- 
 ti nendi funt viri, atque aliter faeminee : quia illis 
 «t gravia, iftis vero funt injungenda leviora : 8c alios 
 ii magna exerceant , illas vero levia demulcendo 
 t< convertant.” 
 
 Certe k qui Moriacliorum Regulas fcripferunt, nec 
 folum de feminis omnino tacuerunt , verum etiam 
 illa fiatuerunt, quae eis nullatenus convenire fciebant : 
 fatis commode innuerunt , nequaquam eodem jugo 
 Regulae tauri k juvencte premendam elTe cervicem, 
 quia quos difpares natura creavit, aequari labore non 
 convenit. Hujus autem, diferetionis Beatus non im- 
 memor Benedictus , tanquam omnium jullorum fpi- 
 ritu plenus, pro qualitate hominum aut temporum, 
 cunela fic moderatur in Regula , ut omnia , ficut ip- 
 femet uno concludit loco, menfurate fiant. Primo 
 itaque ab ipfo incipiens Abbate praecipit , eum ita 
 fubjetflis praefidere , ut fecundum unius , inquit, 
 cujufque qualitatem vel intelligentiam ita fe omni- 
 bus conformet k aptet , ut non folum detrimenta 
 gregis fibi commifii non patiatur, verum in augmen- 
 tatione boni gregis gaudeat, fuamque fragilitatem 
 femper fufpedus fit , memineritque calamum quafr 
 fatum non conterendum. Difcernat 8c tempora, co- 
 gitans diferetionem fandi Jacob' dicentis : uSi gre- 
 «c ges meos plus in ambulando fecero laborare , mo- 
 «( rientur eundi una die. ” Ifec ergo aliaque telli- 
 monia diferetionis matris virtutum fumens , fic 
 omnino temperet, ut 8c fortes fit quod cupiant, 
 fc infirmi non refugiant. 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA3. 35i 
 
 Ad hanc quidem difpenfationis moderationem 
 indulgentia pertinet puerorum , fenum , 8c omnino 
 debilium, Lederis, feu Septimanariorum , coquinae 
 ante alios refeftio , 8c in ipfo etiam Conventu dc 
 ipfa cibi vel potus qualitate , feu quantitate , pro 
 diverfitate hominum providentia. Dc quibus qui- 
 dem fingulis ibi diligenter feriptum eft. — Ipfa quo- 
 que llatuta jejunii tempora pro qualitate temporis, 
 vel quantitate laboris ita relaxat, prout naturae poftu- 
 lat infirmitas. 
 
 Quid obfecro ? ubi ifte , qui fic ad hominum Sc 
 temporum qualitatem omnia moderatur, ut ab om- 
 nibus fme murmuratione proferri queant , quae in- 
 ftituuntUr: Quid, inquam, de fasrainis provideret, 
 fi eis quoque pariter ut viris Regulam inftitueret ? 
 Si enim in quibufdam Regulae rigorem pueris , fe- 
 nibus. Se debilibus pro Ipfa naturae debilitate vel in- 
 firmitate temperare cogitur : quid de fragili fexu pro- 
 videret, cujus maxime debilis 8c infirma natura cog- 
 nofeitur ? Perpende itaque, quam longe abfiflat ab 
 omni rationis diferetione , ejufdem Regulae profef- 
 fione tam faemipas, quam viros obligari, eademque 
 farcina tam debiles , quam fortes onerari. — Satis 
 efTe noftrae arbitror infirmitati , fi nos ipfis Eccle- 
 fiae Rectoribus , & qui in facris Ordinibus conftituti 
 funt , Clericis , tam continentiae , quam abftinentiac 
 virtus aequaverit. Maxime cura Veritas dicat: ««Per- 
 ct feCtus omnis erit, fi fit ficut magifler ejus.” Qui- 
 bus etiam pro magno reputandum effet , fi religio- 
 fos laicos aequiparare pofTemus. Quae namq; in for- 
 tibus parva cenfemus, in debilibus admiramur. Et 
 juxta illud Apoftoli : tt Virtus in infirmitate perficitur.” 
 Ne veroLaicorumreligioproparvo ducatur,qualis fuit 
 
roi 
 
 THE L E T I E K S O E 
 
 Abrah®, David, Job , licet conjugatorum , Ciiryfor- 
 tomus in Epiflola ad Hebrceos , fcrmone 7. nobis 
 occurrit , dicens : u Sunt multd in quibus poterit 
 41 laborare , ut beftiam illam incantet. Q^ua; lunt 
 44 illa ? labores , ledliones , vigllise. Sed quid ad 
 44 nos hxc, inquit, qui non fumus Monachi? Hzec 
 44 mihi dicis ? Dic Paulo , cum dicit : Vigilantes 
 44 in omni patientia oratione : cum dicit, Carnis 
 44 curam ne feceritis in concupifceutiis. ” — Non 
 enim h^c Monachis feribebat tantum, fed omnibus 
 qui erant in civitatibus. Non enim fascularis homo 
 debet aliquid amplius habere Monacho , quam cum 
 uxore concumbere tantum Hic enim habet veniam, 
 in aliis autem nequaquam : fed omnia aequaliter ficut 
 Monachi agere debet. Nam R; beatltudines , quae a 
 Chrifto dicuntur, non Monachis tantum dida: funt. 
 Alioquin uiiiverfus mundus peribit, ^ in anguhum 
 inclulit ea , quae \drtutis funt. Et quomodo honora- 
 biles lunt nuptiae , quae nobis tantum impediunt? 
 
 Ex quibus quidem verbis aperte colligitur, quod* 
 quHquis Evangelicis praeceptis continentiae virtutem 
 addiderit, Monafticamperieftionem implebit. Atque 
 utinam ad hoc nollra Religio confeendere polTet. 
 tit Evangelium impleret-, non tranfeenderet ; ne piuf- 
 quam Chriftianae appeteremus effe. Hinc profedo , 
 ni fallor, fandi decreverunt Patres , non ita nobis, 
 ficut viris, generalem aliquam Regulam , quafi novaiji 
 legem praefigere , nec magnitudine voiorum nofiram 
 infirmitatem onerare, attendentes illud Apofloli t 
 44 Lex enim iram operatur. Ubi enirri non efl lex. 
 14 nec praevaricatio, ” Et iterum : 44 Lex auleni 
 44 fubintravit; ut abundaret deiidura.” 
 
 idem 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA, 353 
 
 Idem quoque maximus continentiae praedicator de 
 infirmitate noftra plurimum confidens , ?c quafi ad 
 fecundas nuptias urgens juniores viduas : u Volo , 
 tt inquit, juniores nubere, filios procreare , matres 
 It familias elfc , nullam occafionem dare adverfario.’^ 
 Qiiod Beatus Hieronymus faluberrimiim elTe con-» 
 fiderans , Eullochio de improviiis faeminarum votis 
 confulit , his verbis, it Si autem 8 c illae ^ quae vir- 
 u gines funt , ob alias tamen culpaS non folvantur j 
 II quid fiet illis, qu$ proftituerunt membra Chrifti^ 
 ii mutaverunt templum Spiritus fan£li in lupanar? 
 ii Reftius fuerat homini fubiiffe conjugium , ambu- 
 14 lafTe per plana , quam altiora intendentem in pro- 
 14 fundum inferni cadere.” --- Chiarum etiam teme- 
 rariae profeffioni fandus Augufiinus confulens ^ in 
 libro de Continentia Viduali ad Julianum fcribit 
 his verbis: 4 ; Qiiae non coepit deliberet, quae aggref- 
 14 fa eft perfeveret. Nulla adverfario detur occafio< 
 44 nulla Chrifto fubtrahatur oblatio.” Hinc etiam 
 Canones noftrae infirmitati confulentes decreverunt ^ 
 Diaconiffam ante quadraginta annos ordinari non 
 debere , hoc cum diligenti probatione 5 cum a 
 vigintl annis , liceat Diaconos promoveri. 
 
 Sunt in Monafleriis ^ qui Regulares dicuntur Ca- 
 nonici Beati Auguftini , qtxandam , ut aiunt, regu- 
 iam profitentes i qui fe inferiores Monachis nulla- 
 tenus arbitrantur: licet eos 8 c vefd carnibus 8 c li- 
 neis uti videamus. Quorum quidem virtutem fi 
 noftra extequare infirmitas poffet , nunquid pro mi- 
 nimo habendum elTet ? — Ut autem de omnibus 
 cibis tutius ac lenitis indulgeatur, ipfe quoque na- 
 tura providit, quse majore fcilicet fobrietatis virtute 
 fexum noftrum praemunivit. Conftat quippe multa 
 
 Voi . II. A a 
 
354 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 parciore fumptu , 8c alimonio minore , faeminas quam 
 viros fuftentari polTe , nee eas tarn leviter inebriari 
 
 Phyfica proteftatur. Unde 8c Macrobius Theo- 
 
 doiius Saturnaliorum Libro Vil. meminit his verbis: 
 *< Arifto teles , mulieres, inquit, raro inebriantur, 
 <( crebro fenes. Mulier humeflinimo eft corpore. 
 i( Docet hoc 8c levitas cutis Sc fplendor. Docent 
 praecipue affidux purgationes fuperQuo exorreran- 
 «( tes corpus humore. Cum ergo epotum vinum 
 ii in tam largum ceciderit humorem , vim fuam per- 
 (( dit nec facile cerebri fedem ferit , fortitudine 
 «t ejus extinda.” Itera: tt Muliebre corpus crebris 
 ii purgationibus , deputatum , pluribus concertum 
 ii foraminibus, ut pateat in meatus, Sc vias praebeat 
 ‘ 44 humori in egeftionis exitum confluenti. Per hxc 
 44 foramina vapor vini celeriter evanefeit Contra 
 44 fenibus ficcum eft corpus, quod probat afperitas 
 ^4 8c fqualor cutis.” 
 
 Ex his itaque perpende, quanto tutius ac juftius 
 naturae 8f infirmitati noftrae cibus quiflibet Sc potus 
 indulgeri poflit , quarum videlicet corda crapula Sc 
 ebrietate gravari facile non poflunt : cum ab illa 
 nos cibi parcitas , ab ifta faeminei corporis quali- 
 tas , ut di£lura eft , protegat. Satis noftrae efle in- 
 firmitati , 8c maximum imputari debet, fi continen- 
 ter ac fine proprietate viventes , 8c officiis occupatx 
 divinis , ipfos Ecclefiae duces vel religiofos laicos in 
 viftu adaequemus , vel eos denique qui\ Regulares 
 Canonici dicuntur , 8c fe praecipue vitam Apoftoli- 
 cam fequi profitentur. — Magnae poftremo provi- 
 dentiae eft, his qui Deo fe per votum obligant, ut 
 minus voveant, 8c plus exequantur , ut aliquid fem- 
 per debitis gratia fuperaddat. Hinc enim per 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 355 
 
 femetipfam Veritas ait ; Cum feceritis omnia qu:e 
 tt praecepta funt, dicite : Servi inutiles fumus , quae 
 it debuimus facere, fecimus/’ Ac fi aperte diceret; 
 Ideo inutiles , Sc quafi pro nihilo , ac fine meritis 
 reputandi, quia debitis tantum exolvendis contenti, 
 nihil ex gratia fuperaddidimus. — De quibus qui- 
 dem gratiis fuperaddendis ipfe quoqUe Dominus 
 alibi parabolice loquens ait: tt Sed, 8c fi quid fu- 
 it pererogavcris , ego , cum rediero , reddam tibi.’* 
 
 Quod quidem hoc tempore multi Monafticae Re- 
 ligioni? temerarii profclTores , fi diligentius atten- 
 derent , 8c in quam profefiionem jurarent , animad* 
 verterent, atque ipfum Regulae tenorem fiudiofe per- 
 ferutarentur : Minus per ignorantiam offenderent , 
 8c per negligentiam peccarent. Nunc vero indif- 
 crete omnes fere pariter ad Monadicam converfa* 
 tionem currentes , inordinate fufeepti inordinatius 
 vivunt, 8c eadem facilitate , qua ignotam Regulam 
 profitentur, eam contemnentes , confuetudines quas 
 volunt, pro lege llatuunt. Providendum itaque nobis 
 eft i ne id oneris fxminae prsefumamus, in quo viros 
 fere jam univerfos fuccumbere videamus, imo S:. 
 deficere. Senuiffe jam mundum confpicimus , ho- 
 minefque ipfos cum Caeleris , quae mundi funt , 
 priftinum naturae vigorem amififfe , Sc juxta illud Ve- 
 ritatis , ipfam charitatem non tam multorum , quam 
 fere omnium refriguiffe. Ut jam videlicet pro qua- 
 litate hominum ipfas propter homines feriptas vel 
 mutari, vel temperare neceffe fit Regulas. 
 
 Cujus quidem diferetionis ipfe quoque Beatus non 
 immemor Benedictus ita fe Monadiese diferetionis 
 rigorem temperaffe fateatur, ut deferiptam a fe Re- 
 gulam, comparatione priorum inftitutorum, non nifi 
 
 A a 2 
 
356 
 
 T li E L E T T £ li S OF 
 
 qiiandam honeftatis inftitutionem , 8c quandarn cou- 
 verfationis inchoationem reputet, dicens ; u Regulam 
 «( autem hanc defcripfimus , ut hanc obfervantes ali- 
 ii quatenus vel honellatem morum , aut initium 
 (( converfationis nos demonftremus habere. Ca:te- 
 u rum ad perfeftionem converfationis qui feftinat , 
 fumat doftrinam fandiorum Patrum , cujus obfer- 
 <( vatio perducat hominem ad celfitudinem per- 
 it fedionis.” Item, tt Quifquis ergo ad ca.dellem 
 (c patriam fcllinas , hanc minimam inchoationis Re- 
 tt gulam , adjuvante Chrifto , perfice , 8c tunc de- 
 tt mum ad majora dodrinje virtutumque culmina, 
 tt Deoprotegente, pervenies.” — Qui, ( ut ipfe ait ) 
 cilim legamus olim Sanftos Patres uno die Pfalterium 
 explere folere , ita Pfalmodiam tepidis temperavit : 
 ut in ipfa per Hebdomadam diftributione Pfalmorum , 
 minore ipforura numero Monachi quam Clerici 
 contenti fint. 
 
 Quid etiam tam religioni quietique Monaflicae 
 contrarium eft , quam quod luxuriae fomentum maxime 
 praellat 8c tumultus excitat, atque ipfam Dei in nobis 
 imaginem , qua prxflamus caeteris , id eft rationem 
 delet? Hoc autem vinum eft, quod fupra omnia 
 vi£lui pertinentia plurimum Scriptura damnofum af- 
 ferit , 8c caveri admonet. De quo 8c maximus ille 
 fapientum in Proverbiis meminit , dicens: uLuxurio- 
 t4 fa res vinum , 8c tumultuofa ebrietas. Quicum- 
 que his deledatur, non erit fapiens. Cui vae ? 
 44 cujus patri vae? cui rixae? cui foveae? cui fine 
 44 caufa vulnera ? cui fufiufio oculorum? nonne his , 
 14 qui commorantur in vino , 8c ftudent calicibus 
 <4 epotandis? Ne intuearis vinum quando flavefeit, 
 (1 cum fplenduerit in vitro color ejus ? Ingreditur 
 
ABEILL A RD AND HELOIS A. 35y 
 
 «e blande , fed in noviflimo mordebit , ut Coluber ^ 
 t« 8c ficut regulus venena diffundet. Oculi tui vi- 
 tt debunt extraneas , 8c cor tuum loquctur perverfa. 
 u Et eris licut dormiens in medio mari, 8: quaff 
 u fopitus gubernator , amilTo clavo : 8c dices : 'Ver- 
 ti bcraverunt me , fed non dolui: traxerunt me , 8c 
 tc ego non fenfi ; Quando evigilabo , 8c rurfus vina 
 ii reperiam? ^ Item: a Noli Regibus , 6 Lamuel, 
 ii noli Regibus dare vinum; quia nullum fecretum 
 ii eft, ubi regnat ebrietas, ne forte bibant 8c obli- 
 te vifcantur judiciorum , 8c mutent caufam filiorum 
 tt pauperis.” Et in Ecclefiaftico feriptum eft : tt Vinum 
 ii 8c mulieres apoftatare faciunt fapientes , 8c arguunt 
 tt fenfatos.” Ipfe quoque Hieronymus ad Nepotia- 
 num feribens de vita Clericorum , Sc quafi graviter 
 indignans , quod Sacerdotes Legis ab omni , quod 
 inebriare poteft, abftinentts , noftros in hac ab- 
 ftinentia fuperent : tt Nequaquam, inquit, vinum 
 tt redoleas , ne audias illud Philofophi : tt Hoc non 
 tt eft ofculum porrigere, fed vinum propinare.” 
 Vinolentos Sacerdotes 8: Apoftolus damnat, 8c Lex 
 vetus prohibet, tt Qjii altario deferviunt , viiium 8c 
 tt ficeram non bibant.” Sicera Hebraeo fermone omnis 
 potio nuncupatur , quse inebriare poteft , five illa 
 quae fermento conficitur , five pomorum fucco , aut 
 favi decoquitur in dulcedinem , 8c herbarum potio- 
 nem , aut palmarum frutftus exprimuntur in lic[uorem. 
 cotftifque frugibus aqua pinguior colatur. Quicquid 
 inebriat , 8c ftatum mentis evertit , fuge fimiliter ut 
 vinum. 
 
 Ecce quod Regum deliciis interdicitur , Sacerdo- 
 tibus penitus denegatur, 8c cibis omnibus periculo- 
 fius efle conftat. Ipfe tamen tam fpiritualis vir Bea- 
 
 A a 
 
 j 
 
35S 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 tus Benedicius difpenfatione quadam prsefentis atatis 
 indulgere Monachis cogitur, a Licet , inquit, lega- 
 n mus vinum Monachorum omnino non effe : fed quia 
 *i noftris temporibus hoc Monachis perfuaderi non 
 «( potell , 8cc. 
 
 Legerat , ni fallor , quod in vitis Patrum fcriptuivi 
 eft his verbis : 4t Narraverunt quidam Abbati Paftori 
 it de quodamMonacho , quia non bibebat vinum, 8c 
 it dixit eis quia vinnm Monachorum omnino non eft.” 
 it Item poft aliqua ; FaClaeft aliquando celebratio Mif* 
 tt farum in Monte Abbatis Anthonii, 8c inventum eft 
 it ibi ccnidum vini. Et extollens unus de fenibuspar- 
 tt vumvas, calicem portavitadAbbatemSifoi; Scdedit 
 it ei. Et bibit femel 8c fecundo , 8c accepit , 8c bibit, 
 it Obtulit ei 8c tertio. Sed non accepit , dicens : 
 it Quiefce frater , an nefcis quia eft Sathanas ? ” 
 Et iterum de Abbate Sifoi ; tt Dicit ergo Abraham 
 it difcipulis ejus : Si occurritur in Sabbatho 8c Do- 
 it minica ad Ecclefiam , 8c biberit tres calices , nc 
 it multum eft ? Et dixit fcnex, ft non elTet Sathanas, 
 it non elTet multuin.'’ 
 
 Ubi unquam, quxfo , carnes a Deo damnatae funt 
 vel Monachis interditftae ? Vide obfccro 8c attende , 
 qua neceffitate Regulam temperet in eo etiam quod 
 periculofius eft Monachis , 8c quod eorum non effe 
 noverit. Quia videlicet hujus abftinentia tempori- 
 bus fuis Monachis jam perfuaderi non poterat. — 
 Utinam eadem difpenfatione, 8c in hoc tempore age- 
 retur, ut videlicet in his , quse media boni 8c mali 
 atque indifferentia dicuntur . tale temperamentum 
 fieret; ut quod jam perfuaderi non valet, profef- 
 fio non exigeret, mediifque omnibus fine fcandalo 
 concefiis, fola interdici peccata fufficeret ; 8c fic 
 
ABEILLARD AND HELOISA. 359 
 
 quoque in cibis, ficut in veftimentis difpenfarctur, 
 ut quod vilius comparari poffet miniftraretur , &: 
 per omnia necefiitati, non fuperfluitati confuleretur. 
 
 Non enim magnopere funt curanda quae nos regno 
 Dei non prseparant , vel quae nos minime Deo com- 
 mendant. Haec vero funt omnia qux exterius ge- 
 runtur, 8 c aeque reprobis, ut dejedis , xque hypocri- 
 tis , ut religiofis communia funt. Nihil quippe inter 
 Judaeos 8 c Chriftianos ita feparat , ficut exteriorum 
 operum Sc interiorum difcretio ; praefertim cum inter 
 filios Dei 8 c Diaboli fola charitas difcernat , quam 
 plenitudinem legis 8 c finem praecepti Apoftolus vocat. 
 Unde 8 c ipfe hanc operum gloriam prorfus extenuans, 
 ut fidei praeferat juftitiam , Judaeam alloquens dicit: 
 4 t Ubi eft gloriatio tua? exclufa eft. Per quam le- 
 ii gera? faftorum ? Non , fed per legem fidei. Ar- 
 (( bitramur eum hominem juflificari per fidem fine 
 4» operibus Legis. ” Item , 44 Si enim Abraham ex 
 44 operibus juftificatus eft, habet gloriam, fed non 
 44 apud Deum. Quid enim dicit fcriptura ? Credi- 
 44 dit Abraham Deo , 8c reputatum eft ei ad jufti- 
 44 tiam,” Et rurfum : 44 Ei, inquit, qui non ope- 
 44 ratur , credenti autem in Deum qui juftificat im- 
 44 pium , deputatur fides ejus ad juftitiam , fecun- 
 44 dum propofitum gratiae Dei.” — Idem etiam om- 
 nium ciborum efum Chriftianis indulgens, 8 c ab his 
 ea qux juftificant, diftinguens , 44 Non eft, inquit, 
 44 regnum Dei efca 8 c potus , fed juftitia 8 c pax , 8 c 
 44 gaudium in Spiritu fan£to.” Omnia quidem munda 
 funt, fed malum eft homini, qui per offendiculum 
 manducat. Bonum eft non manducare carnem , 8 c 
 non bibere vinum , neque in quo frater tuus offen- 
 datur, aut fcandalizetur , aut infirmetur. Non eniijx 
 
 A a 4 
 
36o 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 hoc loco ulla cibi comcftio interdicitur, fed comc- 
 ftionis offenfio : qua videlicet quidam ex convcr- 
 fis Judaeis fcandalizabantur , cum viderent ea quo- 
 que comedi quae lex interdixerat. Quod quidem 
 fcandalurti Apoftolus etiam Petrus cupiens evitare, 
 graviter ab ipfo eft objurgatus , falubriter correc- 
 tus. Sicut ipfemet Paulus ad Galatas fcribens , com- 
 memorat, — Qui rurfus Corinthiis fcribens : u Efca 
 tt autem nos non commendat Deo.” Et rurfum, 
 ii Omne quod in macello vaenit, manducate. Dp- 
 n mini eft terra 8c plenitudo ejus.” Et ad Collof- 
 fenfes ; Nemo ergo vos judicet in cibo aut in potu.” 
 Et poft aliqua: u Si mortui ertis cum Chrifto ab ele- 
 ii mentis hujus mundi : quid adhuc tanquam viven- 
 ti tes in mundo decernitis ? Ne tetigeritis neque 
 t( guftaveritis , neque contredaveritis : quae funt om- 
 ^ nia in interitu ipfo ufu fecundum praecepta &: doc- 
 ti trinas hominum.” — Elementa hujus mundi vocat 
 prima Legis rudimenta , fecundum carnales obfer- 
 vantias , in quarum videlicet doftrina quafi in ad- 
 difcendis literalibus clementis primo fe mundus, id 
 cft , carnalis adhuc populus exercebat. Ab his qui- 
 dem elementis, id eft, carnalibus obfervantiis tam 
 Chrifli, quam fui, mortui funt; cum nihil his de- 
 beant, jam non in hoc mundo viventes, hoc eft 
 inter carnales liguris intendentes , 8c decernentes , 
 id eft diftinguentes quofdara cibos , vel quaflibet 
 res ab aliis , atque ita dicentes : ct Ne tetigeritis haec 
 1 « vel ifla.” Quae Icilicet taAa , vel guftata , vel con- 
 treftata, inquit Apoftolus , fuht in interitu animae 
 ipfo fuo ufu , quo videlicet ipfis ad aliquam etiam 
 utimur humilitatem : fecundum , inquam , praecep- 
 tum 8c dofftrinas hominum, id eft carnalium, Ec 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 36 i 
 
 iegem carnaliter intelligentium , potius quam Chrlfti 
 vcl fuorum. 
 
 Hie enim cum ad praedicaudum ipfos deftinar^t 
 Apoftolos, ubi magis ipfi ab omnibus fcandaiis pro- 
 videndum erat , omnium tamen ciborum efum eis 
 ita indullit , ut apud quofcuuque fufeipiantur hofpi- 
 tio , ita , ficut illi viilitent , edentes fcilicet 8 c bi- 
 bentes quae apud illos funt. Ab hac prolefto Do- 
 minica fuaque difciplina illos recelTuros ipfe jam 
 Paulus per Spiritum providebat. De quibus ad Ti- 
 motheum feribit dicens : a Spiritus autem manifellc 
 
 u dicit, quia in noviflimis temporibus difcedent qui- 
 it dam a fide, attendentes fpiritibus erroris , &: doc- 
 11 trinis daemoniorum in hypocrifi loquentium men- 
 ti daciura, prohibentium nubere, abftinere a cibis, 
 11 quos Deus creavit ad percipiendum cum gratia- 
 11 rum a£lione fidelibus , 8 c his qui cognoverunt ve- 
 il ritatem; quia omnis creatura Dei bona, 8 c nihil 
 11 rejiciendum quod cum gratiarum adione percipi- 
 11 tur. Sanctificatur enim per verbum Dei &: ora- 
 11 tionem. Haec proponens fratribus , bonus ens 
 11 mini/ller Chrifti Jefu , enutritus verbis fidei, 8 c 
 11 bonae doClrinae , quam affecutus es.” 
 
 Qi^xis denique Joannem , ejufque difcipulos abfti- 
 nentia nimia fe macerantes ipfi Ghriflo ejufque dif- 
 cipulis in Religione non praeferat , fi corporalem 
 oculum ad exterioris abftinentiae intendat exhibi- 
 tionem? De quo etiam ipfi difcipuli Joannis adver- 
 fus Chriftum, 8 c fu os murmurantes , tanquam adhuc 
 in exterioribus Judaizantes, ipfuin interrogaverunt 
 Dominum, dicentes: n Qirare nos Phariiaei jeju- 
 11 namus frequenter, difcipuli autem tui non jeju- 
 11 nant?” — Q,uod diligenter attendens beatus Au- 
 
36a 
 
 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 gullirms , k quid inter virtutem 8c virtutis exhibi- 
 tionem referat attendens, ita quae fiunt exterius pen- 
 dat , ut nihil meritis fuperaddant opera. Ait quippe 
 fic m Libro de bono conjugaii : «t Continentia , non 
 n corporis, fed animae virtus eft. Virtutes autem ani- 
 i< mi aliquando in corpore manifeftantur, aliquando in 
 «( habitu : ficut Martyrum virtus apparuit in tolerando 
 paifiones. ” Item, u Jam enim erat in Job patien- 
 tia , quam noverat Dominus, et cui tcftimonium 
 n perhibebat , fed hominibus innotuit tentationis 
 ii examine. ” Item : u Verum , ut apertius intelli- 
 it gatur , quomodo fit virtus in habitu : etiam fi non 
 t£ fit in opere , loquor de exemplo, de quo nullus 
 ii dubitat Catholicorum. Dominus Jefus quod in 
 «£ veritate carnis efurierit , 8c fiderit , 8c munduca- 
 ii verit , 8c biberit , nullus ambigit eorum qui ex 
 It ejus Evangelio fideles funt. Num igitur non erat 
 tt in illo continentiae virtus a cibo 8c potu, quanta 
 It erat in Joanne Baptifta ? Venit enim Joannes non 
 it manducans 8c bibens , 8c dixerunt ; Daemonium 
 • I habet. Venit filius hominis 'manducans 8c bi- 
 ti bens , 8c dixerunt : Ecce homo vorax, 8c potator 
 tt vini, amicus Publicanorum 8c Peccatorum. ” Item: 
 tt Deinde ibi fubjecit , cum de Joanne ac de fe 
 tt illa dixiflet : Juftificata eft Sapientia a filiis fuis , 
 it qui virtutem continentiae vident in habitu animi 
 tt femper effe debere : in opere autem , pro rerum 
 It ac temporum oportunitate , manifellari, ficut vir- 
 II tus patientiae Sanftorum Martyrum.” Qjrocirca, 
 ficut non eft impar meritum patientiae in Petro , qui 
 pafiTus eft, 8: in Joanne qui paflus non eft; fic non 
 eft impar meiytum continentiae in Joanne, qui nul- 
 las expertus eft nuptias; 8c in Abraham, qui filios 
 
ABEILLARDANDHELOISA. 363 
 
 generavit. Et illius enim Caelibatus , 8c illius Con- 
 nubium, pro diftributione temporum, Chrifto mili- 
 taverunt. Sed continentiam Joannes 8c in opere , 
 Abraham vero in folo habitu habebat. 
 
 Illo itaque tempore cum 8c lex dies Patriarcharum 
 fubfequens maledi( 5 Ium dixit, qui non excitaret fe- 
 men in Ifrael : &: qui non poterat, non promebat, 
 fed tamen habebat. Ex quo autem venit plenitudo 
 temporis ut diceretur , “ qui poteft capere capiat ; 
 u qui habet , operetur , qui operari noluerit , non 
 44 fe habere mentiatur.” Ex his liquide verbis col- 
 ligitur folas, apud Deum merita virtutes obtinere, 
 8c quicunque virtutibus pares funt , quantumcumque 
 dillent operibus , sequaliter ab ipfo promereri. Unde 
 qui cumque funt vere Chrifliani , fic toti circa in- 
 teriorem hominem funt occupati , ut eum fcilicet 
 virtutibus ornent , ac vitiis mundent : ut de exte- 
 riori nullam, vel minimam alTumant curam. — Unde 
 8c ipfos legimus Apoftolos ita rufticane , 8c velut 
 inhonefte, in ipfo etiam Domini comitatu fe ha- 
 builTe , ut velut omnis reverentiae atque honeftatis 
 obliti, cum per fata tranfirent fpicas vellere, fabri- 
 care, 8c comedere, more puerorum, non erubefee- 
 rent. Nec de ipfa etiam manuum ablutione , cum 
 cibos elTent accepturi, follicitos effe. Qui cum k 
 nonnullis , quaft de immunditia , arguerentur , eos 
 Dominus excufans : 44 Non lotis, inquit, manibus 
 44 manducare, non coinquinat hominem.” Ubi 8c 
 ftatim generaliter adjecit, ex nullis exterioribus ani- 
 mam inquinari: fed ex his tantum quae de corde pro- 
 deunt, 44 Quae funt, inquit, cogitationes, adulteria, 
 44 homicidia,” 8cc. Nifi enim prius prava voluntate 
 animus corrumpatur , peccatum effe non poterit 
 
364 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 quicquid exterius agatur in corpore. Unde k bene 
 ipfa quoque adulteria five homicidia ex corde pro- 
 cedere dicit , quae Sc fine ta£lu corporum perpetran- 
 tur , juxta iliud : tt Qjri viderit mulierem ad concu- 
 piicendam eam, jam moechatus eft in corde fuo. 
 « Et omnis qui odit fratrem fuum , homicida eft.” 
 Et taftis vel laefis corporibus minime peraguntur, 
 quando videlicet per violentiam opprimitur aliqua, 
 vel per juftitiam coa£tus judex interficit reum, 
 it Omnis quippe homicida ( ficut fcriptum eft ) non 
 n habet partem in regno Dei.” 
 
 Non itaque magnopere quae fiunt, fed quo animo 
 fiant, penfandum eft, fi illi placere fiudemus, qui 
 cordis renum probator eft , Se in abfeondito videt, 
 qui judicabit occulta hominum, u Paulus , inquit, 
 it fecundum Evangelium meum hoc eft, fecundum 
 meae praedicationis do£lrinam. Unde 8c modica viduae 
 oblatio , quae fuit duo minuta , id eft quadrans , 
 omnium divitum oblationibus copiofis praelata eft, 
 ab illo cui dicitur : u Bonorum meorum non eo-es 
 CUI magis oblatio cx offerente , quam offerens pla- 
 cet ex oblatione , ficut fcriptum eft : u Rcfpexit Do- 
 ts minus ad Abel, Sc ad munera ejus.” Ut videli- 
 cet prius devotionem offerentis infpiceret , 8c fic ex 
 ipfo donum oblatum gratum haberet. Quae quidem 
 animi devotio tanto major in Deo habetur , quanto 
 in exterioribus , quae' fiant, minus confidimus. — 
 Unde 8c Apoftolus poft communem ciborum indul- 
 gentiam , de qua , ut fupra meminimus , Timotheo 
 feribit , dc exercitio quoque corporalis laboris ad- 
 junxit , dicens : tt Exerce autem teipfum ad pieta- 
 tt tcm. Nam corporalis exercitatio admodum utilis 
 ii eft. Pietas autem ad omnia utilis eft, promiflionem 
 
A B E I L L A R D A N D H E L O I S A. 365 
 
 (( habens vitae qux nunc eft , 8c futurae : quoniam 
 i( pia mentis in Deuin devotio, 8c hie ab ipfo ine- 
 (( retur necefTaria , 8c in futuro perpetua.” 
 
 Quibus quidem documentis quid aliud docemur, 
 quam Chrifliane fapere , 8c cum Jacob de domefticis 
 animalibus refeftionem patri providere ? Non cum 
 Efau de filveftribus curam fumere, 8c in exteriori- 
 bus Judaizare. Hinc 8c illud eft Pfalraiftx : In 
 
 (( me funt Deus vota tua, quae reddam laudationes 
 u tibi.” Ad hoc quoque illud adjunge Poeticum. 
 
 Ne te qu3efiveiis extra. 
 
 Multa funt 8c innumerabilia tam Saecularium , quam 
 Ecclefiafticorum Doilorum teftimonia , quibus ea quae 
 funt exterius, 8c indifferentia vocantur, non mag- 
 nopere curanda effe docemur. Alioquin legis opera, 
 8c fervitutis ejus, ficut ait Petrus, importabile jugum , 
 
 I Evangelicae libertati effet praeferendum , 8c fuavi 
 j jugo Chrifti , 8c ejus oneri levi. Ad quod quidem 
 t fuave jugum 8c onus leve per femetipfum Chriftus 
 j nos invitans: tt Venite , inquit, qpi laboratis 8c 
 onerati eftis.” Unde 8c praedidus Apoftolus quof- 
 ^ dam jam ad Chriftura converfos , fed adhuc opeg'a 
 legis retinere cenfentes vehementer objurgans , ficut 
 I in Adibas Apoftolomm feriptum eft , ait;, u Viri 
 1 ti fratres , quid tentatis Deum , imponere jugum 
 it fuper cervicem difcipulorum , quod neque patres 
 i ti noftri , neque nos portare potuimus : fed per 
 I ii gratiam Domini Jefu credimus falv.ari , quemad- 
 I ti modum 8c illi?” 
 
 * Et tu ipfe , obfecro , non folum Chrifti , verum 
 ' etiam hujus imitator Apoftoli , diferetione ficut 
 I 8c nomine , fic operum praecepta moderare , ut 
 
366 THE LETTERS OF 
 
 infirmx convenit naturae , & m divinae laudis plu- 
 rimum vacare poffimus officiis. Qixam quidem ho- 
 ftiam , exterioribus omnibus facrificiis reprobatis , 
 Dominus commendans ait ; u Si efuriero , non di- 
 • £ cam tibi ; meus p{l enim orbis terrae , 8c plenitudo 
 «t ejus. Nunquid manducabo carnes taurorum, aut 
 
 fanguinem hircorum potabo ? Immola Deo facri- 
 <£ ficiv.m laudis , redde Altiffimo vota tua , in- 
 t£ voca me in die tribulationis, 8c eruam te, 8c ho- 
 «£ norificabis rtie.” 
 
 Nec id quidem ita loquimur , ut laborem operum 
 corporalium refpuamus, cum neceffitas poftuiaverit. 
 Sed ne irta magna putemus, qux corpori ferviunt, 
 
 officii divini celebrationem prxpediunt; prsfer- 
 tim cum cx authoritate Apoftolica id prscipue de- 
 votis indultum fit faeminis , ut alienae procurationis 
 fuftententur officiis magis , quam de opere proprii 
 laboris. Unde ad Timotheum Paulus : t( Si quis 
 
 fidelis habet viduas , fubminiftret illis , 8: non 
 (( gravetur Ecclefia, ut his, quae verae viduae funt , 
 tt fufficiat.” — Veras quippe viduas dicit quafcum- 
 que Chrifto devotas , quibus non folum maritus mor- 
 tuus eft , verum &: mundus crucifixus eft , 8c ipfae 
 mundo. Qiias reae de difpendiis Ecclefia , tan- 
 quam de propriis Sponfi fui reditibus , fuftentari 
 convenit. Unde 8c Dominus ipfe matri fux procu- 
 ratorem Apoftolum , potius quam virum ejus prx- 
 vidit , k Apoftoli feptem Diaconos , id eft Eccle- 
 fix miniftros , qui devotis miniftrarent fxminis, in- 
 ftituerunt. 
 
 Scimus quidem k Apoftolum Theffalonicenfibus 
 fcriben^em , quofdam otiofe vel curiofe viventes 
 adeo conftrinxiffie, ut prxciperet, quoniam fi quis 
 
ABEILLARD ANDHELOISA. 36? 
 
 non vult operari, non manducet: 8c Beatum Bene- 
 diftum maxime pro otiofitate vitanda opera inanuum 
 injunxiffe. Sed nunquid Maria otiofe fedebat , ut 
 verba Chrifti audiret? Martha tarn ei quam DominO 
 laborante , 8c de quiete fororis tanquam invida mur- 
 murante, quafi quae fola pondus diei 8c aeftus portaverit ? 
 
 Unde 8c hodie frequenter murmurare eos cerni- 
 mus , qui in exterioribus laborant , cum his qui di- 
 vinis occupati funt officiis terrena minillrant. Et 
 faepe de his , quae tyranni rapiunt , minus conque- 
 runtur, quam quae defidiofis ( ut aiunt ) illis 8c otio- 
 lis exfolvere coguntur. Quos tamen non folum verba 
 Chrifti audire , verum etiam in his affidue legen- 
 dis 8c decantandis occupatos confiderant elTc. Nec 
 attendunt non elTe- magnum , ut ait Apoftolus , ft 
 eis communicent corporalia, a quibus expellant fpi- 
 ritualia. Nec indignum elTe , ut qui terrenis inten- 
 ■ dunt , his, qui fpiritualibus occupantur , deferviant. 
 I Hinc 8c enim ex ipfa quoque legis fanftione Mini- 
 ftris Ecclefiae hxc falubris otii libertas conceffa , ut 
 I tribus Levi nihil hereditatis terrenae perciperet, quo 
 expeditius Domino deferviret : fed de, labore alio- 
 ^ rum decimas 8c oblationes fufeiperet. 
 
 ' De abftinentia quoque jejuniorum, quam magis 
 vitiorum quam ciborum Chriftiani appetunt , fi quid 
 ! Ecclefix inftitutioni fuperaddi decreveris , delibe- 
 I randum eft , 8c quod nobis expedit, inltituendum. 
 
 — Maxime vero de officiis pcclefiafticis , 8c de or- 
 I dlnatione Pfalmorum providendum eft : ut in hoc 
 I faltem, li placet , noftram exoneres infirmitatem : ne 
 I cum Pfalterium per hebdomadam expleamus , eof- 
 dem necelTe fit Pfalmos repeti. Quam etiam Bea- 
 tus Bencdi<ftus , cum eam pro vifu fuo diftribuilTet , 
 
368 
 
 T HE 1. E 1’ T E K S OF 
 
 in aliorum quoque actione fua id reliquit admoni- 
 tio : ut ii cui melius videretur , aliter ipfos ordina- 
 ret. Attendens videlicet , quod per temporum fuc- 
 cefiionem Eccicftae decor creverit, &: qute priiis rude 
 fufeeperat fundamentum , poftmodum aedificii naita 
 eft ornamentum. — Illud autem prze omnibus de- 
 finire te volumus , quid de Evangelica Iccdione in 
 vigiliis nodurnis nobis agendum fit. Periculofum 
 quippe videtur eo tempore ad nos Sacerdotes aut 
 Diaconos admitti , per quibs haec ledio recitetur , 
 quas praecipue ab omni hominum acceffu atque af- 
 pedu fegregatas effe convenit : tum ut fincerius Deo 
 vacare poflimus , tum etiam ut a tentatione tutio- 
 res fimus. 
 
 . Tibi nunc domine , dum vivis , incumbit infti- 
 tuere de nobis , quid in perpetuum tenendum fit 
 nobis. Tu quippe pgfl Deum, hujus loci fundator, 
 tu per Deum noflrre congregationis es plantator, tu 
 cum Deo noftrje lis religionis inftitutor. Praecepto- 
 rem alium poft te fortalfis habiturae fumus , 8c qui 
 luper alienum aliquid aedificet fundamentum. Ideo- 
 que veremur de nobis minus futurus follicitus , vel 
 a nobis minuS audiendus , 8c qui denique , fi aeque 
 velit, non aeque polfil. Loquere tu nobis, 8c au 
 diemus. Vale. 
 
 F i N J