The great St. Bernard has written thus of the convent: "Good is it for us to dwell there--where man lives more purely, falls more rarely, rises more quickly, treads more cautiously, rests more securely, dies more happily, is absolved more easily, and is rewarded more plenteously." Every now and then they say in the castle of St. Aliquis: "Such and such a cavalier has become a monk!" Then there are cries of astonishment and probably slurring remarks, but even Conon in his heart wonders, "Has he not, after all, chosen the better part?" at the very moment when he storms about the "greedy monks" before his sons. The monastery is the great interrogation point thrust before the castle. The castle says: "The hunt, the tourney, the excitement of feudal war are the things for man. Who truly knows about the hereafter?" The monastery replies: "There is a kingdom not of this world, where baron and villein must spend the æons. Prepare ye for it!" Very probably the monastery is right. [Illustration: VIEW OF AN ABBEY OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY At the left of the structure the building for guests and in front of it the church; beyond the two cloisters the buildings reserved for the monks; in the foreground the gardens of the abbey and the outside wall.] The monastery of St. Aliquis has existed for centuries. It is a Benedictine monastery--that is to say, its rule (system of government and discipline) comes from the famous St. Benedict of Nursia, who lived in Italy in the sixth century. Many new orders of monks have been founded since then, but none more holy than the Benedictines when they really live up to the ideals of their founder. Barons of St. Aliquis and other rich people have endowed the monastery from time to time with ample lands. It is a passing wealthy institution. Ignorant folk of other ages may think of a monastery as a collection of idlers meditating on heaven and living on charity. Such groups once perhaps existed in Eastern lands, but never in a Benedictine monastery. Each is the scene of a very busy life. Many industries are carried on. The monks are almost self-supporting. The monastery, in fact, contributes more to the economic life of the region than does the castle; and Abbot Victor, its head, is hardly less important, even in a worldly sense, than Messire Conon, with whom, happily, he is now on cordial terms. [Sidenote: The Abbey Buildings]