at our Penitence. Let us confound all who would imitate our Guilt; let us take the Part of God against ourselves, and by fo doing prevent his Judgment. Our former Irregularities require Tears, Shame, and Sorrow to expiate them. Let us offer ар thefe Sacrifices from our Hearts; let us blush, let us weep. If in these weak Beginnings, Lord,. our Heart is not entirely thine, let it at least be made fenfible that it ought to be fo!"

Deliver yourself, Heloife, from the fhameful Remains of a Paffion which has taken too deep Root. Remember that the leaft Thought for any other than God is an Adultery. If you could fee me here with my meager Face, and melancholy Air, furrounded with Numbers of perfecuting Monks, who are alarmed at my Reputation for Learning, and offended at my lean Visage, as if I threatened them with a Reformation; what would you fay of my base Sighs, and of those unprofitable Tears which deceive these credulous Men. Alas! I am humbled under Love, and not under the Crofs. Pity me, and free yourself. If your Vocation be,. as you fay, my Work, deprive me not of the Merit of it by your continual Inquietudes. Tell me that you will honour the Habit which covers you, by an inward Retirement. Fear God, that you be delivered from your Frailties. Love him, if you would advance in Virtue. Be not uneasy in the Cloifter, for it is the Dwelling of Saints.. Embrace your Bands, they are the Chains of Chrift. Jefus :

may

Jefus: He will lighten them, and bear them with you, if you bear them with Humility.

Without growing severe to a Paffion which yet poffeffes you, learn from your own Mifery to fuccour your weak Sifters; pity them upon Confideration of your own Faults. And if any Thoughts too natural shall importune you, fly to the Foot of the Cross, and beg for Mercy; there are Wounds open; lament before the dying Deity. At the Head of a religious Society be not a Slave, and having Rule over Queens, begin to govern yourself. Blush at the leaft Revolt of your Senfes. Remember that even at the Foot of the Altar we often facrifice to lying Spirits, and that no Incense can be more agreeable to them, than that which in thofe holy Places burns in the Heart of a Religious ftill fenfible of Paffion and Love. If during your Abode in the World, your Soul has acquired a Habit of Loving, feel it now no more but for Jefus Chrift. Repent of all the Moments of your Life which you have wafted upon the World, and upon Pleasure ; demand them of me, 'tis a Rob. bery which I am guilty of; take Courage, and boldly reproach me with it.

I have been indeed your Master, but it was only to teach you Sin. You call me your Father; before I had any Claim to this Title, I deserved that of Parricide. I am your Brother, but 'tis the Affinity of our Crimes that has purchased me that Distinction. I am called your Husband, but it is

after a publick Scandal. If you have abused the Sanctity of fo many venerable Names in the Super fcription of your Letter, to do me Honour, and flatter your own Paffion, blot them out, and place in their Stead those of a Murtherer, a Villain, an Enemy, who has confpired against your Honour, troubled your Quiet, and betrayed your Innocence, You would have perifhed through my Means, but for an extraordinary A&t of Grace, which, that you might be faved, has thrown me down in the Middle of my Course.

This is the Idea you ought to have of a Fugitive, who endeavours to deprive you of the Hope of feeing him any more. But when Love has once been fincere, how difficult is it to determine to love no more? "Tis a thousand Times more eafy to renounce the World than Love. I hate this deceit. ful faithlefs World; I think no more of it; but my Heart ftill wandring, will eternally make me feel the Anguish of having loft you, in spite of all the Convictions of my Underftanding. In the mean Time, though I should be so cowardly as to retract what you have read, do not suffer me to offer myself to your Thoughts, but under this laft Notion. Remember my laft Endeavours were to feduce your Heart. You perished by my Means, and I with you. The fame Waves fwallowed us both up. We waited for Death with Indifference, and the fame Death had carried us headlong to the fame Punishments. But Providence has turned off

this

this Blow, and our Shipwreck has thrown us into a Haven. There are Some whom the Mercy of God faves by Afflictions. Let my Salvation be the Fruit of your Prayers! Let me owe it to your Tears or exemplary Holinefs.! Though my Heart, Lord! be filled with the Love of one of thy Creatures, thy Hand can when it pleafes draw out of it thofe Ideas which fill its whole Capacity. To love Heloife truly, is to leave her intirely to that Quiet which Retirement and Virtue afford. I have rëfolved it; this Letter fhall be my last Fault. -Adieu.

If I die here, I will give Orders that my Body be carried to the Houfe of the Paraclete. You fhall fee me in that Condition; not to demand Tears from you, 'twill then be too late; weep rather for me now, to extinguish that Fire which burns me. You fhall fee me, to ftrengthen your Piety by the Horror of this Carcafe, and my Death then more eloquent than I can be, will tell you what you love, when you love a Man. I hope you will be contented, when you have finifhed this mortal Life, to be buried near me. Your cold Ashes need then fear Nothing, and my Tomb will by that Means be more rich and more renowned.

LETTER IV.

HELOISE to ABELARD.

In the following Letter the Paffion of Heloife breaks out with more Violence than ever. That which he had received from Abelard, inftead of fortifying ber Refolutions, ferved only to revive in her Memory all their paft Endearments and Misfortunes. With this Impreffion, he writes again to her Husband; and appears now, not fo much in the Character of a Religious, friving with the Remains of her former Weakness, as in that of an unhappy Woman abandoned to all the Tranfports of Love and Despair.

To Abelard her well-beloved in Chrift Jefus, from Heloife his well-beloved in the fame Chrift Jefus.

I

Read the Letter I received from you with Abundance of Impatience : In Spite of all my Misfortunes, I hoped to find Nothing in it befides Arguments of Comfort. But how ingenious are Lovers in tormenting themselves! Judge of the exquifite Senfibility and Force of my Love, by that which causes the Grief of my Soul.

I.