gradually acquired vast possessions in England and abroad. Fountains Abbey, at the time of its dissolution, owned a hundred square miles in a ring fence in the district of Craven, although its commencement was simple and lowly in the

extreme.

Stephen Harding, the founder of the Cistercians, was an Englishman. He spent his early days in the Benedictine monastery at Sherborne; but, dissatisfied with the laxity which had crept into the order, went abroad, and meeting with a few brethren like-minded with himself, desirous to devote themselves more perfectly to God, settled at Citeaux, in Burgundy, a wild place in the woods, with a deep stream running through the midst of it. There St. Benedict's Rule was kept in all its rigor; the brethren lived in holy simplicity. Rich and powerful friends built them a Church; Stephen was made Abbot; Abbot of Cistercium, the Latin for Citeaux. For a time it appeared that the severity of discipline would bar the door against newcomers; brethren died, and no postulants took their places. However, in the year 1113, thirty men one day applied for admission. Their leader was the great St. Bernard, after whose accession the Cistercian monastery grew speedily into the Cistercian Order, and in due time was introduced into England.

At the request of Turstin, Archbishop of York, St. Bernard, then head of the order, sent a colony of monks to Rievaux. The example of their simple and devout life inspired thirteen monks of the Benedictine Abbey of St. Mary of York with distaste for the comfort and ease enjoyed in that vast and wealthy house. They quitted the monastery and took refuge with the Archbishop, who established them, on a portion of his own land in the valley of the Skell. The deed of gift of this land-the charter of foundation-is still preserved. The place, the narrative says, was a long way out of the worldlocum a cunctis retro seculis inhabitatum; it was full of rocks and thorns and seemed a better dwelling for wild beasts than for men. But the brethren accepted it with gratitude. In the midst of the valley was a spreading elm tree, beneath which they constructed a thatched hut, and having chosen one of their number to be their abbot, began with contented minds to lead the life of devotion and austerity for which they had longed. They named their rustic monastery De Fontibus, from

the springs that abounded in the valley.

"O ye wells, bless

ye the Lord," they sang; "Benedicite, fontes Domino."

In the following spring the brethren sent messengers to St. Bernard at Clairvaux, asking to be admitted to the Cistercian Order. He received them with kindness, sending them back with a gracious letter, which has been preserved, and a monk of his own monastery, a man of ability and experience, to form them according to the strict Rule.

Presently their number increased; seventeen new brethren came, seven of whom were priests. But though their number was increased, their resources, we are told, were by no means augmented. The archbishop continued to aid them, and friendly neighbors occasionally sent provisions; they also earned a little by making mats. That year, however, there was a famine in the land. The Abbot went about in the environs in quest of alms, but found none; and the monks were reduced to such straits that for a time they lived on leaves boiled with salt in the water of the stream-the friendly elm, as the narrative says, affording them food as well as shelter. One day it is said, our Lord himself knocked at the door in the guise of an ill-clad, hungry beggar, asking an alms in the time of scarcity when they had but two loaves and a half, and no prospect of more. At first they thought it prudent to refuse him, but when he renewed his petition, one loaf was given to him. And behold, within half an hour, two men appeared from Knaresborough Castle carrying an abundant supply of bread.

At last the situation became intolerable. The brethren had chosen and desired to practice poverty and privation, but starvation was a different matter. In the following year the Abbot journeyed to Clairvaux, to beseech St. Bernard to give them lands in France, or elsewhere, where they could live. He consented to give them a dwelling place near his own abbey. Happily the gift was not needed. On his return, the Abbot found the fortunes of the house had changed for the better. Hugh, Dean of York, who had seen and admired the courage of the monks who had left the monastery in that city, had resigned his position and cast in his lot with the destitute brethren. He was rich, and brought books with him, and money, part of which was employed to pay the workmen who were building the church and cloister. Serlo, a Canon of York,

also became one of the community, which then counted five years of existence; it is to him that we owe the contemporary account of the foundation, written, or rather dictated, when he was far advanced in years. Lands were given to the brotherhood, and they were exempted from payment of taxes and tithes. "From that day," says Serlo,* "the Lord blessed our valleys with the blessing of heaven above and of the deep that lieth under, multiplying the brethren, increasing their possessions, pouring down showers of benediction, being a wall unto them on the right hand and on the left. What perfection of life there was at Fountains! What emulation of virtue! What stability of discipline! The house was enriched in wealth without; still more in holiness within. Its name became famous, and the great people of the world reverenced it."

Within the space of less than twenty years no less than eight new foundations were made from Fountains Abbey. It was feared at Clairvaux that the order was growing too quickly; the General Chapter, held in 1152, discouraged the founding of new monasteries. Consequently no more colonies went forth from the valley, where the lowly hut had been replaced by a group of noble buildings, arranged in accordance with the plan prescribed for Cistercian monasteries. In the centre was a wide open square of green, round which were the cloisters; on the north the Abbey Church; on the east the chapter-house with library and parlor, and dormitory above; on the south the refectory and kitchen; on the west the long range of the cellarium,† or store house, while outside were the infirmary, the mill and workshops, the bakehouse and malthouse. These buildings were constructed partly of wood, partly of stone quarried from the banks of the valley; the laborers were the monks themselves, assisted by their neighbors, some of whom were hired, while others gave their day's work for the love of God. The little band of poor monks, rich in faith, laid the foundations of their Church upon the grand lines on which it stands to day, constructing it in the sweat of their face; in suo sudore constructa. The completed monastery-the work of a whole century-had a stout stone wall about it, with an outer and an inner gate. At the outer gate the Almoner dispensed his alms, and there the porter, at the sound of a knock,

*Narratio de Fondatione Fontanis Monasterii.

+ So called because it was under the charge of the cellarer or steward.

opened to the stranger with the greeting: Deo gratias, and hastened to apprise the Abbot of the arrival of the guest.

The Sons of St. Benedict have ever been famed for their hospitality, and the guest houses, of which there were twoprobably for the use of different classes of visitors, in a day when social distinctions were scrupulously observed-were arranged for the comfort of those who were entertained there. They were in fact a hostelry where travelers, "both noble and gentle, and of what degree soever that came thither as strangers, were made welcome and entertained for three days free of expense."

The Church of Fountains Abbey was divided by three stone screens. The first, the rood-screen, formed the east end of the portion of the Church which was assigned to the lay brothers. The space between that and the choir-screen, called the retro-choir, was intended for the aged brethren, and convalescents from the infirmary. In it stood two altars, one on the north side dedicated to our Lady, the other on the south side to St. Bernard. Beyond the choir-screen was the central part of the sanctuary, with twenty stalls on either side and three to the right and left of the entrance, facing east. Below the stalls of the choir-monks were seats for the novices. Before the reredos hung a splendid piece of tapestry, Arras work. Above the north transept rose a noble tower of four stories; the inscriptions carved on the outside are still in great part legible. They are these:

"Blessed be the name of Jesus Christ."

"Benediction and glory and wisdom and honor and power be to our God forever and ever."

"To the King eternal who only hath immortality, whom no man hath seen, be honor and empire everlasting."

"To God alone, to Jesus Christ, be honor and glory forever." This last was thrice repeated.

These inscriptions were probably intended as an apology for the beautiful tower, since it was prohibited by the regulations of the order. The Cistercian chapel was to have only a modest tower of one story, rising but little above the roof, to indicate that the desire to be known, the pride of position, was banished from the house of God. Thus the Abbot who built the lofty tower was fain to assert emphatically that it was raised solely to the greater glory of God.

At the beginning of monasticism most monks were laymen. They separated themselves from the world, thinking that they could hold fellowship with God best in solitude and seclusion. A monk, monos, is a man who lives alone. But after a time the individuals were aggregated in communities; the convents being lay fraternities, having only such priests as were needed for the rites of the Church. The lay brothers were monks, in that they were subject to the monastic vows; they were thus named, conversi, not to distinguish them from the religious who were in Holy Orders, but from the choir monks, monachi, the more literate members of the community, who recited the Divine Office. The lay brothers, many of whom were of good birth, but ignorant of letters, performed the humbler tasks under the direction of the cellarer, although, like the others, they rose at night and went down to the Church for their devotions. The dormitory at Fountains Abbey was a long room over the cloisters, then called walks, on the east side. It had two long rows of beds from end to end, like a ward in a hospital. The beds were of straw which was emptied out of its blue ticking and renewed once a year. At two o'clock in the morning a great bell rang in the tower, answered a little one in the dormitory; then every brother rose and descended the stairs at the end of the room into the dark Church, in which one light burned in the organ-loft, for the psalms were chanted with organ accompaniment, another at the reader's lecturn, and a third at the precentor's stall. Otherwise the vast edifice was in darkness, the psalms being sung from memory.

After this service, we are told, the monks came out into the north walk of the cloister, where cressets affixed to the walls shed a flickering light, and there remained until dawn, reading or meditating, their hoods thrown back that it might be seen that they were awake. This hour was short in summer, but long in winter; if the weather was very bad the monks took refuge in the chapter house, as but little of the open stonework of the cloister was glazed. Cold and exposed as it was, it was nevertheless the study and living room of the monks who were engaged in literary work, transcribing MSS. and illuminating prayer books. The books were stored in cases fixed in recesses in the wall. Below the shelves on which the volumes were laid, not stood upright, were desks for the stu