has found the sympathy for which it longed, but delirium flows swiftly in thy blood, and paints upon thy youthful cheek the crimson of sin. The tongue whose eloquence charms thee is half false; in the gaze that thy lover bends on thee lurks insincerity; there is a wave of scorn in the smile that gives thee such deep joy; there is a tone of hollowness in the heart that beats against thy reclining head; thou art cursed with passion and not blessed with love. These days of intoxicating pleasure are swiftly passing; the Eden in the midst of which thou art standing shall soon be metamorphosed; its bright colors shall fade, its music shall cease, the warmth of its atmosphere shall turn to chilliness, its rich fruits shall vanish, and around thee on every side shall be desolation as far as the eye can reach. We pity thee, but cannot greatly blame; the earth is cursed beneath thee, but heaven, with its mercy, is above thee still!

XVIII.

CONFUSION ON EVERY SIDE.

GREAT was the desolation among the pupils of Abelard when they perceived the pre-occupation of their master. A vast army of them, five thousand in number, had come together from every quarter of the civilized world, attracted by Abelard's reputation for eloquence and wisdom; from day to day they had been charmed by his ingenious and brilliant lectures; and when in their famous teacher languor took the place of animation,-when commonplace traditions were given instead of original and striking thoughts,— when they perceived that his cheek was growing pale and his eye losing his fire,-when they saw that his love had been transferred from philosophy to another object, they were sorely grieved, and some could not refrain from tears at the sight of that which none could behold without pain.

Such was the laxness of manners in the Middle Age, or such was the infatuation of Abelard, that he took no pains to conceal the cause of his pre-occupa

tion. Every one in Paris knew it, except the one most interested to know it, the uncle of Heloise. Every body spoke of his adventure; the songs which he composed and sung for his mistress were scattered abroad and sung in the streets.

The undoubting Fulbert, for a long time, saw not within his house what all Paris saw from without. So stupid was the old canon that at first he would not believe those who informed him of the wrong that Abelard was inflicting upon his family. At length his heavy eyes were opened, and the lovers were consequently separated.

The unhappy pair were overwhelmed with grief and shame. They grieved for each other more than for themselves. "How great," says Abelard, "was the grief of the lovers in their separation! How great was my shame and confusion! How great was my contrition on beholding the affliction of this dear girl! What tides of regret overwhelmed her spirit when she saw my dishonor! Each, while grieving for the other, forgot self. Each deplored a single misfortune, that of the other."

* It has seemed to us that Abelard's regard for Heloise began in passion and ended in love. It was not the highest kind of love, and is not to be compared with that of Heloise; but we must remember that he was very busy with the world, while she was wholly occupied with sentiment-with thoughts of her lover.

Regardless

Separation only inflamed their love. of every thing but their passion for each other, they sought interviews that were all the sweeter for being stolen. When the cup of shame has once been drunk to the dregs, scandal no longer restrains us. What did the two mad lovers care for the reproach of the world, while they were to each other all in all ?*

Heloise with the highest exultation soon informed her lover of the delicacy of her situation, and asked him what was to be done. Every consideration forbade her longer stay in the house of Fulbert. To remove her was a hazardous enterprise, for she was watched by her guardian with great vigilance. One night, in the absence of the uncle, Abelard entered the house by stealth, removed Heloise in the disguise of a nun, and secretly conducted her to Brittany, his native country.

* Actum itaque in nobis est quod in Marte et Venere deprehensis poetica narrat fabula.-Ep. i., p. 13.

XIX.

SECRET MARRIAGE.

"How oft, when pressed to marriage, have I said,
Curse on all laws but those which love has made?
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,

Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
Let wealth, let honor, wait the wedded damo,
August her deed, and sacred be her fame;
Before true passion all those views remove,
Fame, wealth, and honor! what are you to Love?
The jealous god, when we profane his fires,
Those restless passions in revenge inspires,
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who seek in love for aught but love alone.
Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:
Not Cæsar's empress would I deign to prove,
No! make me mistress to the man I love;

If there be yet another name more free,
More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Oh! happy state! when souls each other draw,

When love is liberty, and nature law:
All then is full, possessing, and possess'd!

No craving void left aching in the breast:

Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart,

This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be),

And once the lot of Abelard and me."

POPE'S "Eloisa to Abelard."