Abelard was not acquainted with the Greek, but in a Latin translation from the Arabic he had studied Aristotle, whom he regarded as the great master of dialectics, although not making use of his method, as did the great Scholastics of the succeeding century.  Still, he was among the first to apply dialectics to theology.  He maintained a certain independence of the patristic authority by his “Sic et Non,” in which treatise he makes the authorities neutralize each other by placing side by side contradictory assertions.  He maintained that the natural propensity to evil, in consequence of the original transgression, is not in itself sin; that sin consists in consenting to evil.  “It is not,” said he, “the temptation to lust that is sinful, but the acquiescence in the temptation;” hence, that virtue cannot be tested without temptations; consequently, that moral worth can only be truly estimated by God, to whom motives are known,—­in short, that sin consists in the intention, and not in act.  He admitted with Anselm that faith, in a certain sense, precedes knowledge, but insisted that one must know why and what he believes before his faith is established; hence, that faith works itself out of doubt by means of rational investigation.

The tendency of Abelard’s teachings was rationalistic, and therefore he arrayed against himself the great champion of orthodoxy in his day,—­Saint Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, the most influential churchman of his age, and the most devout and lofty.  His immense influence was based on his learning and sanctity; but he was dogmatic and intolerant.  It is probable that the intellectual arrogance of Abelard, his flippancy and his sarcasms, offended more than the matter of his lectures.  “It is not by industry,” said he, “that I have reached the heights of philosophy, but by force of genius.”  He was more admired by young and worldly men than by old men.  He was the admiration of women, for he was poet as well as philosopher.  His love-songs were scattered over Europe.  With a proud and aristocratic bearing, severe yet negligent dress, beautiful and noble figure, musical and electrical voice, added to the impression he made by his wit and dialectical power, no man ever commanded greater admiration from those who listened to him.  But he excited envy as well as admiration, and was probably misrepresented by his opponents.  Like all strong and original characters, he had bitter enemies as well as admiring friends; and these enemies exaggerated his failings and his heretical opinions.  Therefore he was summoned before the Council of Soissons, and condemned to perpetual silence.  From this he appealed to Rome, and Rome sided with his enemies.  He found a retreat, after his condemnation, in the abbey of Cluny, and died in the arms of his friend Peter the Venerable, the most benignant ecclesiastic of the century, who venerated his genius and defended his orthodoxy, and whose influence procured him absolution from the Pope.