indulgence; or withhold that tenderness, that delicate attention, that
toleration of foibles, that sweet appreciation, by which the soul of
woman is kept alive and the lamp of her incense burning! And woe be to
him who drives this confiding idolater back upon her technical
obligations! The form that holds these certitudes of the soul may lose
all its beauty by rudeness or neglect. And even if the form remains,
what is a mortal body without the immortal soul which animates it? The
glory of a man or of a woman is the real presence of spiritual love,
which brings peace to homes, alleviation to burdens, consolation to
sufferings, rest to labors, hope to anxieties, and a sublime repose amid
the changes of the world,--that blessed flower of perennial sweetness
and beauty which Adam in his despair bore away from Eden, and which
alone almost compensated him for the loss of Paradise.

It is not my object to present Abélard except in his connection with the
immortal love with which he inspired the greatest woman of the age. And
yet I cannot conclude this sketch without taking a parting glance of
this brilliant but unfortunate man. And I confess that his closing days
strongly touch my sympathies, and make me feel that historians have been
too harsh in their verdicts. Historians have based their opinions on the
hostilities which theological controversies produced, and on the neglect
which Abélard seemed to show for the noble woman who obeyed and adored
him. But he appears to have employed his leisure and tranquil days in
writing hymns to the abbess of the Paraclete, in preparing homilies, and
in giving her such advice as her circumstances required. All his later
letters show the utmost tenderness and zeal for the spiritual good of
the woman to whom he hoped to be reunited in heaven, and doing for
Héloïse what Jerome did for Paula, and Fénelon for Madame Guyon. If no
longer her lover, he was at least her friend. And, moreover, at this
time he evinced a loftier religious life than he has the credit of