her, we shall not allow her, at the command of Abelard, to fling monastic dust in our eyes. Her warm, love-laden heart, is beating thick and fast; her soul-lit eyes are swimming in tears; her spirit does not obey, if her hand does ;—we will look at her, and not at the pale dead words that she writes. Hitherto she has written of herself, and to translate her burning language, has been a constant delight. With Abelard we have been on good terms, tolerating his pedantry; and, for the sake of his many sorrows, pardoning the want of something that the hearts of women and poets can feel, that cannot be reduced to a formula, and construed to thought.

Abelard's answer to this letter is a treatise on monastic institutions, and possesses no interest for any mortal in the nineteenth century.

XXIX.

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

As a stone that is rolled from a mountain starts slowly, at first turned out of its way by every inequality of surface, but gathers force as it goes, at length leaping all barriers; so our narrative in the beginning shaped its course in the midst of details, but now it must touch upon here a point, and there a point, and hasten to a close.* It was pleasant to dwell with Abelard in his youth, when a noble ambition was calling forth his energy; it was pleasant to dwell with him in his early manhood, when he was conquering in heroic battle those who would silence a rising man; it was pleasant to dwell with him when he was strangely related to one of the noblest of women; there was a grave satisfaction in following him over the arid wastes of his first years of monastic life, in journeying with him through the burning sands of persecution; for we knew that there was an oasis ahead, which

* This figure is borrowed from "Waverley."

promised a cool shade and refreshing fountains,-a resting-place where the weary for a little season might have at least a sombre peace, a solemn hour of repose in which to recount with melancholy pleasure the joys of vanished days, and to make preparation for a "way that must once be trod by all;" but before us now the desert again lies, stretching away as far as the eye can reach, inviting the wanderer with many a deceptive mirage. The man whose life has been so full of strange vicissitudes is entering upon it, and his next asylum will be where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.

The most tranquil period of Abelard's life was during the few first years that followed his correspondence with Heloise. The Abbess of Paraclete sent him difficult questions in theology, which she could not understand, and he employed his time in answering them. For her he also composed a book of hymns, which are not destitute of poetic merit. He collected his sermons and dedicated them to her, and at her demand, wrote his Hexameron,-a commentary on the first chapter of Genesis. During this period he either wrote or finished most of his works.* Persecution for a season ceased. The enemies of reason, and the friends of authority seemed to fear the influence of Abelard. On the side of the philosopher were the prince of

* Vide Ouvrages medits d'Abelard, by Cousin.

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Champagne; the duke of Brittany; and the Garlands, who formed a dynasty of ministers under Louis le Gros and his sons. He was also favored by the king himself. His opinions had spread far and wide, making for him a multitude of friends. Many of his old pupils, who loved and admired their master, were then holding places of authority in the schools, in literature, and in the church. The influence of Heloise was great, and of course was used for the safety of her lover.

About the year 1136, Abelard opened his school again for a short time, on the hill of St. Genevieve, near Paris. How long he remained, or why he left, is unknown.*

In the mean time an incident occurred at the Paraclete which revived his quarrel with the church. Saint Bernard visited Heloise and expressed his admiration for the order of the convent, but took it upon himself to complain of an alteration in the prayer, made by Abelard. The complaint of course reached him, and he was not the man to let it pass in silence. He wrote to Saint Bernard, defending his own version, and rebuked the saint for saying daily bread instead of supersubstantial bread. One was the representative of free thought, and the other of authority, in the

* Vie d'Abelard, p. 171.

† Ab. Op., Part ii., Ep. 5. P. Aæl. ad Bern, claræv. abb., p. 244, et Serm. xiii., p. 858.

Middle Age, and even so small a breeze was sufficient to fan the slumbering fires of antagonism between them.

It must be remembered, too, that Abelard had made himself in many ways obnoxious to the church. He was skilled in invective, and had used it unsparingly against the ignorance and vices of the convents. Even bishops did not escape his rash criticism. The traffic in indulgencies was attacked, and some high dignitaries in the church were accused of attempting false miracles. His temper was irritable; he loved controversy, and was proud. It was easy to be seen that his doctrines, if not in themselves heretical, at least tended to innovation.

Guillaume de Saint Thierry commenced the movement on the part of the church. He wrote a common letter to the bishop of Chartres and Saint Bernard, calling attention to the heresies of Abelard. Bernard, who dedicated his passions to the service of the church, as the old chevaliers did their arms, gave a willing ear to the accusation, and the bishop of Chartres acted with him without energy, without resistance, for he had no bitter feeling toward the philosopher.

Saint Bernard had one or two friendly conferences with Abelard, which in reality amounted to nothing. While they were together they did not greatly disagree, but each carried away with him a sentiment of animosConflicting ideas cannot live together in the

ity.