Montalembert, in an eloquent passage in his _Monks of the West_, when writing of happiness in the cloister, cites about forty place-names given in early days by the religious of France to their earthly homes, which are expressive of the joy or heavenly delights they therein experienced. Nor is England, considering its more limited area, one whit behindhand in the selection of names for monastic sites that tell more of gleams of spiritual joy than of mere natural beauty. Such names were peculiarly dear to the stern Cistercians. It was the White Monks who gave to Netley on the Southampton Water its first name of Lutley or Place of Joy. Beaulieu was the title chosen for their house, not only by the Cistercians of Hampshire, but by the Benedictines of Bedfordshire, and by the White Canons of Sussex; whilst Beauvale, or the Fair Valley, was the choice of the Nottinghamshire Carthusians, Belvoir of the monks of the Leicestershire cell from St. Albans, and Bella Landa, or Byland, of the Yorkshire Cistercians. To their house near Leek the White Monks gave the name of Dieu l’Encresse, or Dieulacres, and Gracedieu to their abbey near Dean Forest; the latter title was also chosen by the Cistercian nuns of Leicestershire. One of their Lincolnshire houses was known as Vaudey, a corruption of Valle Dei. Both in Somerset and Cardigan these White Monks termed their home a Vale of Flowers, whilst in Warwickshire they had the happy Valley of Merevale. Mountgrace expressed the thankfulness of the Carthusian Monks for their Yorkshire Charter-house, and the Austin Canons’ name for their Norfolk cell at Heveringham was Mountjoy. It is the aim, however, of these chapters to deal with facts in an endeavour to dispel fictions, and not to rest on generalities or vague assertions. It is, therefore, incumbent on us to admit that scandals from time to time occurred within the cloisters in England as elsewhere, and were indeed bound to do so as long as sin exists. Sin cannot be walled out. It is wicked to gloat over sin, it is diabolical to exaggerate it. There is no good in unnecessarily dwelling upon sin, but there is also distinct evil in denying it. “It is better,” said St. Gregory the Great, who was monk as well as Pope, “to have a scandal than a lie.” That there were abuses must be frankly and honestly admitted, but in that connexion it is well to recollect the bold and vigorous writings of Lacordaire. “Abuse,” he writes, “proves nothing against any institution; if it is necessary to destroy everything subject to abuse--that is to say, of things which are good in themselves, but corrupted by the liberty of man--God Himself ought to be seized upon His inaccessible throne, where too often we have seated our own passions and errors by His side.”