in his arms, opens to him his heart and the hospitalities of his convent, not as a repentant prodigal, but as the greatest genius of his age, brought low by religious persecution.  Peter did all in his power to console his visitor, and even privately interceded with the Pope, remembering only Abelard’s greatness and his misfortunes.  And the persecuted philosopher, through the kind offices of the abbot, was left in peace, and was even reconciled with Bernard,—­an impossibility without altered opinions in Abelard, or a submission to the Church which bore all the marks of piety.

The few remaining days of this extraordinary man, it seems, were spent in study, penitence, and holy meditation.  So beloved and revered was he by the community among whom he dwelt, that for six centuries his name was handed down from father to son among the people of the valley and town of Cluny.  “At the extremity of a retired valley,” says Lamartine, “flanked by the walls of the convent, on the margin of extensive meadows, closed by woods, and near to a neighboring stream, there exists an enormous lime-tree, under the shade of which Abelard in his closing days was accustomed to sit and meditate, with his face turned towards the Paraclete which he had built, and where Heloise still discharged the duties of abbess.”

But even this pensive pleasure was not long permitted him.  He was worn out with sorrows and misfortunes; and in a few months after he had crossed the hospitable threshold of Cluny he died in the arms of his admiring friend.  “Under the instinct of a sentiment as sacred as religion itself, Peter felt that Abelard above and Heloise on earth demanded of him the last consolation of a reunion in the grave.  So, quietly, in the dead of night, dreading scandal, yet true to his impulses, without a hand to assist or an eye to witness, he exhumed the coffin which had been buried in the abbey cemetery, and conveyed it himself to the Paraclete, and intrusted it to Heloise.”

She received it with tears, shut herself up in the cold vault with the mortal remains of him she had loved so well; while Peter, that aged saint of consolation, pronounced the burial service with mingled tears and sobs.  And after having performed this last sad office, and given his affectionate benediction to the great woman to whom he was drawn by ties of admiration and sympathy, this venerable dignitary wended his way silently back to Cluny, and, for the greater consolation of Heloise, penned the following remarkable letter, which may perhaps modify our judgment of Abelard:—­

“It is no easy task, my sister, to describe in a few lines the holiness, the humility, and the self-denial which our departed brother exhibited to us, and of which our whole collected brotherhood alike bear witness.  Never have I beheld a life and deportment so thoroughly submissive.  I placed him in an elevated rank in the community, but he appeared the lowest of all by the simplicity of his dress and