Library of the Worlds Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Volume 1 | Page 8

to that of
his realist contemporary, Anselm of Canterbury, whose principle was
"Credo ut intelligam" (I believe, that I may understand). We must not
suppose, however, that Abélard, with his rationalism, dreamed of

undermining Christian dogma. Very far from it! He believed it to be
rational, and thought he could prove it so. No wonder that the book
gave offense, in an age when faith and ecstasy were placed above
reason. Indeed, his rivals could have wished for nothing better than this
book, which gave them a weapon to use against him. Led on by two old
enemies, Alberich and Lotulf, they caused an ecclesiastical council to
be called at Soissons, to pass judgment upon the book (1121). This
judgment was a foregone conclusion, the trial being the merest farce, in
which the pursuers were the judges, the Papal legate allowing his better
reason to be overruled by their passion. Abélard was condemned to
burn his book in public, and to read the Athanasian Creed as his
confession of faith (which he did in tears), and then to be confined
permanently in the monastery of St. Médard as a dangerous heretic.
His enemies seemed to have triumphed and to have silenced him
forever. Soon after, however, the Papal legate, ashamed of the part he
had taken in the transaction, restored him to liberty and allowed him to
return to his own monastery at St. Denis. Here once more his
rationalistic, critical spirit brought him into trouble with the bigoted,
licentious monks. Having maintained, on the authority of Beda, that
Dionysius, the patron saint of the monastery, was bishop of Corinth and
not of Athens, he raised such a storm that he was forced to flee, and
took refuge on a neighboring estate, whose proprietor, Count Thibauld,
was friendly to him. Here he was cordially received by the monks of
Troyes, and allowed to occupy a retreat belonging to them.
After some time, and with great difficulty, he obtained leave from the
abbot of St. Denis to live where he chose, on condition of not joining
any other order. Being now practically a free man, he retired to a lonely
spot near Nogent-sur-Seine, on the banks of the Ardusson. There,
having received a gift of a piece of land, he established himself along
with a friendly cleric, building a small oratory of clay and reeds to the
Holy Trinity. No sooner, however, was his place of retreat known than
he was followed into the wilderness by hosts of students of all ranks,
who lived in tents, slept on the ground, and underwent every kind of
hardship, in order to listen to him (1123). These supplied his wants, and
built a chapel, which he dedicated to the "Paraclete,"--a name at which

his enemies, furious over his success, were greatly scandalized, but
which ever after designated the whole establishment.
So incessant and unrelenting were the persecutions he suffered from
those enemies, and so deep his indignation at their baseness, that for
some time he seriously thought of escaping beyond the bounds of
Christendom, and seeking refuge among the Muslim. But just then
(1125) he was offered an important position, the abbotship of the
monastery of St. Gildas-de-Rhuys, in Lower Brittany, on the lonely,
inhospitable shore of the Atlantic. Eager for rest and a position
promising influence, Abélard accepted the offer and left the Paraclete,
not knowing what he was doing.
His position at St. Gildas was little less than slow martyrdom. The
country was wild, the inhabitants were half barbarous, speaking a
language unintelligible to him; the monks were violent, unruly, and
dissolute, openly living with concubines; the lands of the monastery
were subjected to intolerable burdens by the neighboring lord, leaving
the monks in poverty and discontent. Instead of finding a home of
God-fearing men, eager for enlightenment, he found a nest of greed and
corruption. His attempts to introduce discipline, or even decency,
among his "sons," only stirred up rebellion and placed his life in danger.
Many times he was menaced with the sword, many times with poison.
In spite of all that, he clung to his office, and labored to do his duty.
Meanwhile the jealous abbot of St. Denis succeeded in establishing a
claim to the lands of the convent at Argenteuil,--of which Héloïse, long
since famous not only for learning but also for saintliness, was now the
head,--and she and her nuns were violently evicted and cast on the
world. Hearing of this with indignation, Abélard at once offered the
homeless sisters the deserted Paraclete and all its belongings. The offer
was thankfully accepted, and Héloïse with her family removed there to
spend the remainder of her life. It does not appear that Abélard and
Héloïse ever saw each other at this time, although he used every means
in his