We are not here to judge, but to give our own account." The bishop went on presently to ask a few questions and to talk of Master More, saying that he had managed to correspond with him for a while, but that now all the means for doing so had been taken away from them both, as well as his own books.
"It is a great grief to me that I cannot say my office, nor say nor hear mass: I must trust now to the Holy Sacrifice offered by others." He spoke so tenderly and tranquilly that Chris was hardly able to keep back his tears.

It seemed that the soul still kept its serene poise in that wasted body, and was independent of it.

There was no weakness nor peevishness anywhere.

The very room with its rough walls, its cobwebbed roof, its uneven flooring, its dreadful chill and gloom, seemed alive with a warm, redolent, spiritual atmosphere generated by this keen, pure soul.

Chris had never been near so real a sanctity before.
"You have seen nothing of my Rochester folk, I suppose ?" went on the bishop to the Prior.
The Prior shook his head.
"I am very downcast about them sometimes; I saw many of them at the court the other day.