of these Palestinian monasteries, a king of Hungary
thus describes his impressions: "Lodging in their houses, I have seen
them feed every day innumerable multitudes of poor, the sick laid on
good beds and treated with great care. In a word, the Knights of St.
John are employed sometimes like Martha, in action, and sometimes like
Mary, in contemplation, and this noble militia consecrate their days
either in their infirmaries or else in engagements against the enemies
of the cross."

The Knights Templars were far more militant than the Knights of St.
John, but they also were actuated by the monastic spirit. Bernard tried
to inspire this order with a strong Christian zeal so that, as he said,
"War should become something of which God could approve." The success
which attended its operations led as usual to its corruption and
decline. Beginning with a few crusaders leagued together for service and
living on the site of the ancient Temple at Jerusalem, it soon widened
the scope of its services and became a powerful branch of the crusading
army. It was charged by Philip IV. of France, in 1307, with the most
fearful crimes, to sustain or to deny which accusations many volumes
have been composed. Five years later the order was suppressed and its
vast accumulations transferred to the Knights of St. John. "The horrible
fate of the Templars," says Allen, "was taken by many as a beginning and
omen of the destruction that would soon pass upon all the hated
religious orders. And so this final burst of enthusiasm and splendor in
the religious life was among the prognostics of a state of things in
which monasticism must fade quite away."

Wondrous changes have taken place in those dark and troubled years since
Benedict began his labors at Monte Cassino, in 529. The monk has prayed
alone in the mountains, and converted the barbarian in the forest. He
has preached the crusades in magnificent cathedrals, and crossed stormy
seas in his frail bark. He has made the schools famous by his literary
achievements, and taught children the alphabet in the woodland cell. He
has been good and bad, proud and humble, rich and poor, arrogant and
gentle. He has met the shock of lances on his prancing steed, and
trudged barefoot from town to town. He has copied manuscripts in the
lonely Scottish isle, and bathed the fevered brow of the pilgrim in the
hospital at Jerusalem. He has dug ditches, and governed the world as the
pope of the Church. He has held