Peter Abélard

by Joseph McCabe

Without straining an impressionist argument, it may be at once pointed out that the letter betrays itself. Several of the propositions in the list are not found in either of Abélard’s theologies; they are taken from the works which William affirms he has never seen. An intrigue is revealed; some other person, not at Signy, has had an important share in the epistle, if not in the actual writing of it. Again, as Neander says in his Life of St. Bernard, the passage about his affection cannot be taken seriously; he had been passionately devoted to Bernard for some years. The letter is evidently written for use or publication, and reveals a curious piece of acting.

Bernard’s reply is also clearly ‘part of the comedy,’ as Hausrath says. Bernard is much addicted to tutoyer his friends, even his lady friends.[27] His previous letters to William, written before he was a ‘son of religion’ and a devoted follower, are written in that familiar style. But in this brief note ‘thou’ and ‘thine’ become ‘you’ and ‘your.’ ‘I consider your action both just and necessary. The book itself, betraying the mouth of those that speak iniquity, proves that it was not idle.... But since I am not accustomed, as you know well, to trust my own judgment, especially in matters of such moment,’ it must wait a little. He will see William about it after Easter. ‘In the meantime be not impatient of my silence and forbearance in these matters; most of them, indeed nearly all of them, were not known to me before (cum horum plurima et pene omnia hucusque nescierim).’

The letter is almost incomprehensible, coming from such a man. He take the first discovery of so influential a heretic so calmly; he not trust his own judgment in such matters! Save for the literary form, which is unmistakable, the letter is wholly out of place in the bulky volume of Bernard’s correspondence. It is part of the play; and its brevity and vagueness seem to indicate an unwillingness or ethical discomfort on the part of the writer.

The closing sentence in it has given trouble even to Bernard’s biographers, and must disconcert every admirer of the great uplifter of the twelfth century. Cotter Morison says ‘he must refer to the special details’ of Abélard’s teaching. It is impossible to acquit the words of the charge of evasiveness and a half-conscious inaccuracy, even if they be so interpreted. We have already given the general considerations which compel us to think Bernard made himself fully acquainted with Abélard’s opinions. We have already discussed the probability of his share in the driving of Abélard into Brittany. Other indications are not wanting. In 1132 Bernard was sent on a papal mission into Burgundy; his companion was Joscelin, Abélard’s early rival. Bernard attacks with some spirit the errors of an unnamed master in his Treatise on Baptism; these errors are the opinions of Abélard. On one occasion, indeed, they had a direct controversy. Bernard had visited the Paraclete, and had criticised the way in which the nuns, following Abélard’s direction, recited the Lord’s Prayer. Abélard had inserted ‘supersubstantial’ for ‘daily.’ Heloise duly reported the criticism, and Abélard flew to arms. The letter was characteristic. A sweet and genial prelude, a crushing argumentative onslaught, and an ironical inversion of the charge. ‘But let each do as he pleases,’ the rhetorician concluded; ‘I do not wish to persuade any man to follow me in this. He may change the words of Christ as he likes.’

However, we need not strain detailed indications. It is impossible to think that Bernard was unacquainted with ‘novelties’ that the echo of a great name had borne to the ends of the earth.[28] When we have seen the whole story of Bernard’s share in the struggle, it will be easier to understand this letter. It is puerile to think that we detract anything from the moral and spiritual greatness of St. Bernard in admitting an occasional approach to the common level of humanity. And there was present in strength that delusive ideal which has led so many good men into fields that were foreign to their native grandeur—the good of the Church.

There is no record of a conference with William of St. Thierry after Easter. The pupil has played his part, and he now vanishes completely from the theatre. But from the subsequent report which was sent to the pope, and from the Life of St. Bernard, written by his admiring secretary, we learn that Bernard visited Abélard in private, and admonished him of his errors. The scene is unfortunately left to the imagination; though the report we have mentioned speaks of a ‘friendly and familiar admonition.’ Bernard’s biographer would have us believe that Abélard was quite subdued—the ‘rhinoceros’ was tamed again—by Bernard’s brotherly address, and promised to retract his errors. It is possible that Abélard put him off with amiable generalities, but quite incredible that he made any such promise. We need not speculate, with Hausrath, on the probability of interference from his more ardent students. The episcopal report to the pope does not mention any broken promise. It could have used such a circumstance with great effect.

Then followed Bernard’s second visit and warning. It would be difficult to say which dreaded the other more in these curious interviews, but Bernard had convinced himself of his duty to crush Abélard, and he was following out a very correct and excellently-devised scheme. The Gospel required a twofold personal correction of an erring brother, before he was denounced to the synagogue. The second one was to have witnesses. Bernard therefore boldly admonished Abélard in the presence of his students, and bade them burn the works of their master. It is a thousand pities we have no Abélardist record of these proceedings.

If Abélard said little during the conferences, he must have known that he was rapidly approaching another, perhaps a supreme, crisis in his life. He knew his Gospel, and he knew Bernard. The next step was the denunciation to the synagogue. He had had an experience of such denunciation, and he would certainly not expect a less insidious attack from the abbot of Clairvaux, who had avoided his dialectical skill so long. He determined to checkmate the Cistercians. Very shortly afterwards Bernard was dismayed to receive a letter from the Archbishop of Sens, in which he was invited to meet the redoubtable dialectician at Sens in a few weeks’ time, and discuss the right and wrong of their quarrel before the whole spiritual and temporal nobility of France.

It was now a question of dialectics and rhetoric versus diplomacy; though indeed we must credit Abélard—or his ‘esquire,’ as Bernard calls Arnold of Brescia—with a fine diplomatic move in claiming the discussion. There are several reasons for thinking that the Bishop of Paris was in Rome at the time, or the discussion should have been sought at Notre Dame. The next instantia was the Archbishop of Sens, and Abélard continued to assail that prelate until he was forced to accept the petition. Not improbably it appealed to the sporting instinct of old ‘Henry the Boar,’ a man of noble extraction, and of extremely worldly life before he fell under the influence of the ubiquitous Bernard. The quarrel of the two great luminaries of France was now notorious. He could not well refuse to open the lists for a superb trial by combat.

But Bernard had an entirely different theory of the condemnation of a heretic. He trusted to his personal influence and immense epistolary power. Abélard’s works were available, and were sufficient for the grounding of a condemnation, he said. He was not merely impatient of the implied doubt of the infallibility of his judgment; he shrank nervously from the thought of such an encounter. He did not conceal for a moment his dread of Abélard’s power. ‘I am a boy beside him,’ he pleaded, ‘and he is a warrior from his youth.’ On the other hand, if it became a question of a diplomatic struggle for a condemnation of the books at Rome, the positions would be exactly reversed. He refused to enter the lists with Abélard.