It seems almost ungracious to quote such an observation, because it may be distorted into a criticism of charity itself, or made to serve the purposes of certain anti-Romanists who cannot even spare those noble women who minister to the sick in the home or hospital from their bigoted criticisms.  Small indeed must be the soul of that man who permits his religious opinions to blind his eyes to the inestimable services of those heroic and self-sacrificing women.  But even Roman Catholic students of social problems must recognize the folly of indiscriminate alms-giving.  “In proportion as justice between man and man has declined, that form of charity which consists in giving money has been more quickened.”  The promotion of industry, the repression of injustice, the encouragement of self-reliance and thrift, are needed far more than the temporary relief of those who suffer from oppression or from their own wrong-doing.

Some of those who deplore the fall of the monasteries make much of the fact that the modern world is menaced by materialism.  “With very rare exceptions,” cries Maitre, a French Catholic, “the most undisguised materialism has everywhere replaced the lessons and recollections of the spiritual life.  The shrill voice of machinery, the grinding of the saw or the monotonous clank of the piston, is heard now, where once were heard chants and prayers and confessions.  Once the monk freely undid the door to let the stranger in, and now we see a sign, ‘no admittance,’ lest a greedy rival purloin the tricks of trade.”  Montalembert, referring to the ruin of the cloisters in France, grieves thus:  “Sometimes the spinning-wheel is installed under the ancient sanctuary.  Instead of echoing night and day the praises of God, these dishonored arches too often repeat only the blasphemies of obscene cries.”  The element of truth in these laments gives them their sting, but one should beware of the fervid rhetoric of the worshipers of medievalism.  This century is nobler, purer, truer, manlier, and more humane than any of the centuries that saw the greatest triumphs of the monks.  They, too, had their blasphemies, often under the cloak of piety; they, too, had their obscene cries.  Their superstitions and frauds concealed beneath those “dishonored arches” were infinitely worse than the noise of machinery weaving garments for the poor, or producing household comforts to increase the happiness of the humblest man.

There is much that is out of joint, much to justify doleful prophecies, in the social and religious conditions of the present age, but the signs of the times are not all ominous.  At all events, nothing would be gained by a return to the monkish ideals of the past.  The hope of the world lies in the further development and completer realization of those great principles of human freedom that distinguish this century from the past.  The history of monasticism clearly shows that the monasteries could not minister to that development of liberty, truth and justice, which constitute the indispensable condition of human happiness and human progress.  Unable to adjust themselves to the new age, unwilling to welcome the new light, rejecting the doctrine of individual freedom, the monks were forced to retire from the field.