ife? One need not
wonder--since this was the sentiment of the period--that he fears the
vengeance of God only because he has broken the rule of continence, not
at all because he has led into wrong doing one who trusted and loved
him.

The shame of his punishment and the griefs of his life do seem to have
made some impression on him, however. Abelard actually learns to speak
of "the shameful treachery of which I was guilty towards your uncle."
One can but compare him with Rousseau; those who have read the latter's
fascinating, eloquent, but disgusting _Confessions_ cannot fail to
remember that there is the same inordinate vanity and selfishness in
them as young men, the same misery and insane fear of foes, sometimes
purely imaginary, in them as old men.

Beginning as a vulgar passion, there is no doubt that Abelard's feeling
for Heloise afterward became more honorable. After their separation, and
the softening, chastening influence of his misfortunes, he developed for
her a real affection. Though there is a constraint, a coldness in the
address of his letters, and often too much solicitude about form and too
much display of erudition, the heart of the man is moved in spite of
himself. He begins his first letter to her: "To Heloise, his
well-beloved sister in Christ, Abelard, her brother in Christ;" the
second: "To the spouse of Christ, the servant of that same Christ." But
he shows a tenderness for her at the very start; if he has not written
to her and advised her before, he says, it is because he had such
absolute confidence in her judgment. He calls her his "sister, once so
dear in the flesh," and sends her a Psalter, which she is to use in
imploring the Divine mercy for him. He will give counsel to her and to
her nuns, if she desires it. And here he can dissemble no longer: "But
enough of your holy congregation,... it is to you, to you whose goodness
will, I know, have such power with God, that I address myself....
Remember in your prayers him who is your very own." He sends a form of
prayer which she and her nuns are to use for him. Then the man once more
gets the better of the monk: "If it chance that the Lord deliver me up
into the hands of mine enemies, and that they, victorious, put me to
death, or if, while far from you, some accident should bring me to that
goal whither all flesh is tending, let my body, whether it be already
buried or simply abandoned, be brought under your care, I implore you,
to your ceme