Nor is this all. The story of Abelard and Heloise has a literature of its own. We have no authentic portraits, if we except the fine pictures of Robert Léfèbvre engraved by Desnoyers, which rest upon I know not what of possible likeness. But the Englishman, Berington; the Germans, Brucker and Carriere and Fessler and Schlosser and Feuerbach; the Frenchmen, De Rémusat and Cousin and Guizot and Delepierre and Lamartine and Dom Gervaise; the Italian, Tòsti; the Americans, W. W. Newton, Wight, and Abby Sage Richardson, and a host of other authors and essayists and reviewers, have in one form or another told the sad, sweet legend of this love. It has never lacked its audience, and its perpetual charm has been the character of Heloise. Like the fair and unfortunate maid of Astolat, who so pathetically loved Launcelot, it may be said of her devotion that she “gave such attendance upon him, there was never a woman did more kindlyer for man than shee did.” It was a rare exhibition of that precious jewel, an unselfish, loyal, and flawless heart!
It serves to illustrate the meshes which held the highest men of the twelfth century together, when we encounter Peter the Venerable, Abbot of Cluny. His true name was Pierre Maurice de Montboisier and he was from Auvergne—“one of the noblest and most genial natures,” says Morison, “to be met with in this or in any time.” What a fine old man he was! Under him as abbot, Bernard of Cluny was prior, and the loving care of Peter prepared an epitaph for that bravest and sweetest of singers. It was he who bearded the other Bernard in his very den, and who came out of many contests against that almost invincible ecclesiast with more honor than before. Few could say this of a battle with the Abbot of Clairvaux; and to no one but Peter does Morison, the biographer of Bernard, concede any such victory.
It was also this admirable Peter who took Peter Abelard under his protection. With a large and patient generosity he developed the better nature of that headstrong, conceited, unhappy man; and when Abelard died he wrote to Heloise the really warmhearted and tender letter, with a great deal of humanity about it, which I have quoted already. And thus, to whomsoever it may fall to consider the history of France in the twelfth century; or of Abelard and the new philosophy; or of Bernard and ecclesiastical polity; or of the other Bernard and the Latin hymns, it is inevitable that the name of Peter the Venerable shall arise and stand high above the throng of those by which he is surrounded.