The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1883-09-14
BLOOMSBURG PA, FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER IA, 1888

tame OF her rare requirements nau |
been spread throughout the fair prov
inces of France. Had Abelard been |
permitted to marry and yet aspire to
ecclesiastical honors, he could not
have found in all Paris woman bet.
ter fitted to be his wife than the "high- |
souled Heloise." But since this could |
not be, and since he would not aban-
don his purpose TO become priest, he
cody resolved that this distinguished !
maiden should be made the minister of
his ungodly passions.
A more deliberate purpose to do a
vile act was never formed in the heart
of man than that which Abelard now
cherished. II is dark. indelible spot
upon his great name. Under the spe
cious pretext of becoming instructor to
the niece of the covetous, stolid, old
Fulbert, he became an inmate of the
maiden's home, won her affections, and
became so enamoured of her society
that he neglected his lectures aud seri-
ously injured his prestige. His passion
had mastered his reason. He celebra-
ted the praises of his mistress in songs
which gave publicity to their sin. Yet
such was the moral corruption of that
dark age that his reputation suffered,
not because of his immortality, but be-
cause of its effect in dimming the
brilliancy of his literary performan-
ces.
When Fulbert discovered Abelards
relation to his niece he was furious,
and would not be pacfied until the il
lustrious philosopher consented to
make Heloise his wife. To this only
right method of redeeming, as far as
might be, her lost reputation, Heloise
objected, that he who belonged to
| philosophy ought not to be bound by
marriage to one woman. With an in
fatuation so unwomanly and impure
as to be scarcely conceivable by ra-
| tional, well-baanced mind, she de-
clared ''that the title Of lover would be
more precious to her and more honora-
BILE to him than that of wife" But
| Abelard, whose reason was less OBJ.
scured by passional sentiment, persist
ed, and they were privately married by
Fulbert in Paris, at early dawn, in the
presence of few personal friends of
both parties.
There is fatal tendency in one evil
to beget progeny of others. Hence,
one is hardly surprised to learn that
while Fulbert, contrary to his pledge
of secrecy, made this marriage known
to the public, both Abelard and He
loise denied it so persistently that it
was generally discredited They both
gloried in the shame of a wrong rela-
ton, which, because of their strenuous
lying, was still believed to exist be-
tween them. For such marvellous
folly there can be no righteous extenu-
alton. In Heloise it was, doubtless,
the result of affection for her husband
but her love made her blind to the
eternal fact that good is never born OF
evil. The only atonement to offended
virtue possible to her and Abelard was
penitence for the past and pure mar
ried life in the future. BY lying, they
added sin to sin, and invited the
strokes of that avenging Nemesis
which forever traces the footprints Of
evil doers.
: The fruit of their lying was, indeed
! bitter. Fulbert was maddened by it
> He ill-used his niece. Abelard stol
: her away by night and put her in ;
/ convent, not as yelled nun, but 70
, protection. Supposing Abelard die
this to get rid of her, the malevolen
canon hired four merciless rufiians
e who inflicted cruel, barbarous, ire
r parable injury on the person of tn
philosopher. His admirers were indie
nant; the people pitied him; the la,
q punished Fulbert and his ferociou
q tools. But Abelard, disgusted wit
y himself, with life even, resolved to a:
!, ume the cowl of monk. Befor
doing so, however, he insisted tina
! ! IIeloise take the veil The mistru.
; implied by this requirement caused
n pang of anguish to wiring her faithfl
" heart. Yet she obeyed him prompt,
- and took the veil at the nunnery
y" Argenteuil. Subsequently she wrot
,e ,e him of this act, saying:
81 confess grieyed and blushed f,
# lyour mistrust of me but |, &c
a knows, should not have hesitated
y. follow you at your command, if yC
is had been fastening to perdition."
:" Such love as this may be very Sc
I'd timental and romantic, but it is al
s, very wicked 1t is idolatry-such
n surrender to the guidance of fello'
to creature as no human soul can ma
n without violating its obligations
d, God nothing but misery can possit
he proceed from it. It made Heloise u
al. happy to the end of her life.
he Abelard had no such mad regard
m his veiled wife. That he had gro,
to love her seems probable, yet
as loved himself, his reputation, and
he philosophy in far higher degree. 1
he he was destined to be henceforth [
he football of a perverse fortune. !
his renown transformed his rivals into
ed ter enemies His imperious spirit a
of caused the brotherhood of the mon
d." terry to Join with his vanquished phi
'ge sophical adversaries in efforts for
le- overthrow. In spite of this fierce {
at lignity, however, when he resumed
the lectures students hocked by thousal
the to listen to his oratory. But when
gly published those lectures, a couI
cir found heresy in his book, compel
yht him to burn it, and sentenced him
the the retirement of his monastery.
mi But if he had many enemi les, he {
the had powerful friends, who did not
ant get him. Through their influence
the was made abbot of st. Gildas, in
native Brittany. TO this wild spot
uld retired until, hearing that Heloise
on ! her sister nuns had been driven f
'all, Argenteuil, he reused himself, secl
lish her possession and control of the
nsi- hey of the Paraclete, aud after fifl
al years of silence began corresp,
ex- ence with her, which continued to
,rch time Of his death, in ll42 His
ndi- years We're embittered by misfort
not persecution and sickness. Condem
the as hereto, by papal bull, to per
jury ual silence, he lived with the
cts. hearted Peter the Venerable in