" sighed poor Avice.

"Have one thing clear, daughter--the way between God and thine own soul.
Let nothing come in to block up that--however fair, howsoever dear it
be. And thou shalt have thy reward."

"Father, is it like keeping other things clear? The way to have the
floor clear and clean is to sweep it every morning."

"Ay, my daughter, sweep it every morning with the besom of prayer, and
every night bear over it the torch of self-examination. So shall the
evil insects not make their nests there."

"I don't quite know how to examine myself," said Avice.

"And thou wilt err," answered Father Thomas, "if thou set about that
work alone, with a torch lighted at the flame of thine own
righteousness. Light thy torch at the fire of God's altar; examine
thyself by the light of His holy law; and do it at His feet, so that
whatever evil thing thou mayest find thou canst take at once to Him to
be cleansed away. Content not thyself with brushing away thoughts, but
go to the root of that same sin in thine own heart. Say not, `I should
not have spoken proudly to my neighbour'--but, `I should not be proud in
my heart.' Deal rather with the root that is in thee than with the
branches of acts and words. There are sins which only to think of is to
do. Take to our Lord, then, thy sins to be cleansed away; but let thine
own thoughts dwell not so much on thy sins, thy deeds done and words
said, but rather on thy sinfulness, the inward fount of sin in thy
nature."

"That were ugly work!" said Avice.

"Ay. I reckon thou countest not the scouring of thy floor among thine
enjoyments. But it is needful, my daughter: and is it no enjoyment to
see it clean?"

"Ay, that it is," admitted Avice.

"I remember, my child, many years ago--thou wert but a little maid--that
holy Bishop Robert came to sup with thy grandmother Muriel. Tell me,
wouldst thou have been satisfied--I say not as a little child, since
children note not such things--but as a woman, wouldst thou have been
satisfied to receive the holy Bishop with a dirty floor, and offer to
him an uncleansed spoon to put to his lips?"

"Oh no, Father, surely not!"

"Then see, daughter, that when the Bishop of thy soul lifteth the latch
to come in and sup with thee, He find not the soiled floor and the
unclean vessel, and turn sorrowfully away, saying, `I thought to sup
with My child this night, but this is no place for Me.' Trust me, thou
wilt lose more than He, if He c