e, when the dictates of reason were almost
wholly disregarded, he fought fearlessly for intellectual freedom. He
was practically the founder of the University of Paris, which in turn
became the mother of medieval and modern universities.

He was, therefore, a great and striking figure in the history of
civilization. Nevertheless he would to-day be remembered only by
scholars and students of the Middle Ages were it not for the fact that
he inspired the most enduring love that history records. If Heloise had
never loved him, and if their story had not been so tragic and so
poignant, he would be to-day only a name known to but a few. His final
resting-place, in the cemetery of Pere Lachaise, in Paris, would not be
sought out by thousands every year and kept bright with flowers, the
gift of those who have themselves both loved and suffered.

Pierre Abelard--or, more fully, Pierre Abelard de Palais--was a native
of Brittany, born in the year 1079. His father was a knight, the lord
of the manor; but Abelard cared little for the life of a petty noble;
and so he gave up his seigniorial rights to his brothers and went forth
to become, first of all a student, and then a public lecturer and
teacher.

His student days ended abruptly in Paris, where he had enrolled himself
as the pupil of a distinguished philosopher, Guillaume de Champeaux;
but one day Abelard engaged in a disputation with his master. His
wonderful combination of eloquence, logic, and originality utterly
routed Champeaux, who was thus humiliated in the presence of his
disciples. He was the first of many enemies that Abelard was destined
to make in his long and stormy career. From that moment the young
Breton himself set up as a teacher of philosophy, and the brilliancy of
his discourses soon drew to him throngs of students from all over
Europe.

Before proceeding with the story of Abelard it is well to reconstruct,
however slightly, a picture of the times in which he lived. It was an
age when Western Europe was but partly civilized. Pedantry and learning
of the most minute sort existed side by side with the most violent
excesses of medieval barbarism. The Church had undertaken the gigantic
task of subduing and enlightening the semi-pagan peoples of France and
Germany and England.

When we look back at that period some will unjustly censure Rome for
not controlling more completely the savagery of the medievals. More
fairly should we wonder at the great measure