s, as always under Christianity, the most deadly sins
were pride, covetousness, slander and anger. These implied inherent
moral depravity, but "illicit" love was love outside the law of
man, and did not of necessity and always involve moral guilt.
Christ was Himself very gentle and compassionate with the sins of
the flesh but relentless in the case of the greater sins of the
spirit. Puritanism overturned the balance of things, and by
concentrating its condemnation on sexual derelictions became blind
to the greater sins of pride, avarice and anger. We have inherited
the prejudice without acquiring the abstention, but the Middle Ages
had a clearer sense of comparative values and they could forgive,
or even ignore, the sin of Abelard and Heloise when they could less
easily excuse the sin of spiritual pride or deliberate cruelty.
Moreover, these same Middle Ages believed very earnestly in the
Divine forgiveness of sins for which there had been real repentance
and honest effort at amendment. Abelard and Heloise had been
grievously punished, he himself had made every reparation that was
possible, his penitence was charitably assumed, and therefore it
was not for society to condemn what God would mercifully forgive.

The twelfth and thirteenth centuries were not an age of moral
laxity; ideals and standards and conduct were immeasurably higher
than they had been for five hundred years, higher than they were to
be in the centuries that followed the crest of Mediaevalism. It was
however a time of enormous vitality, of throbbing energy that was
constantly bursting its bounds, and as well a time of personal
liberty and freedom of action that would seem strange indeed to us
in these days of endless legal restraint and inhibitions mitigated
by revolt. There were few formal laws but there was _Custom_ which
was a sovereign law in itself, and above all there was the moral
law of the Church, establishing its great fundamental principles
but leaving details to the working out of life itself. Behind the
sin of Abelard lay his intolerable spiritual pride, his selfishness
and his egotism, qualities that society at large did not recognize
because of their devotion to his engaging personality and their
admiration for his dazzling intellectual gifts. Their idol had
sinned, he had been savagely punished, he had repented; that was
all there was about it and the question was at an end.

In reading the Historia Calamitatum there is one considera