16 The Song of the Minster

and grudging nature, and he could conceive
of no true service of God which was not
one of fasting and prayer, of fear and trem-
bling, of joylessness and mottification.

Now you must know that the greatest of
the monks and the hermits and the holy
men were not of this kind. In their love of
God they were blithe of heart, and filled
with a rare sweetness and tranquillity of soul,
and they looked on the goodly earth with
deep joy, and they had a tender care for the
wild creatures of wood and water. But
Thomas had yet much to learn of the beauty
of holiness.

Often in the bleak dark hours of the night
he would leave his cell and steal into the
Minster to fling himself on the cold stones
before the high altar; and there he would
remain, shivering and praying, till his
strength failed him.

It happened one winter night, when the
thoughts I have spoken of had grown very
bitter in his mind, Thomas guided his steps
by the glimmer of the sanctuary lamp to his
accustomed place in the choir. Falling on
his knees, he laid himself on his face with
the palms of his outstretched hands flat on