t have done this in order to rid himself
of her, furiously vowed vengeance, which they took in the meanest and
most brutal form of personal violence. It was not a time of fine
sensibilities, justice, or mercy; but even the public of those days was
horrified, and gave expression to its horror. Abelard, overwhelmed with
shame, despair, and remorse, could now think of nothing better than to
abandon the world. Without any vocation, as he well knew, he assumed the
monkish habit and retired to the monastery of St. Denis, while Heloise,
by his order, took the veil at Argenteuil. Her devotion and heroism on
this occasion Abelard has described in touching terms. Thus
supernaturalism had done its worst for these two strong, impetuous
human souls.

If Abelard had entered the cloister in the hope of finding peace, he
soon discovered his mistake. The dissolute life of the monks utterly
disgusted him, while the clergy stormed him with petitions to continue
his lectures. Yielding to these, he was soon again surrounded by crowds
of students--so great that the monks at St. Denis were glad to get rid
of him. He accordingly retired to a lonely cell, to which he was
followed by more admirers than could find shelter or food. As the
schools of Paris were thereby emptied, his rivals did everything in
their power to put a stop to his teaching, declaring that as a monk he
ought not to teach profane science, nor as a layman in theology sacred
science. In order to legitimatize his claim to teach the latter, he now
wrote a theological treatise, regarding which he says:--

"It so happened that I first endeavored to illuminate the
basis of our faith by similitudes drawn from human reason,
and to compose for our students a treatise on 'The Divine
Unity and Trinity,' because they kept asking for human and
philosophic reasons, and demanding rather what could be
understood than what could be said, declaring that the mere
utterance of words was useless unless followed by
understanding; that nothing could be believed that was not
first understood, and that it was ridiculous for any one to
preach what neither he nor those he taught could comprehend,
God himself calling such people blind leaders of the blind."

Here we have Abelard's central position, exactly the opposite to that of
his realist contemporary, Anselm of Canterbury, whose principle was
"Credo ut intelligam" (I believe, that I may unders