The ankret’s cell is on the south side of the Infirmary Cloister. It is built of stone, being twelve feet long, eight feet broad, and with an arched roof about ten feet high. On the side of the church there is a narrow opening by which the occupant can hear mass and can see the elevation in the Chapel of St. Catherine. On the other side is a grating by which he can receive his food and converse with the world. But it is too high up for him to see out of it; therefore he has nothing to look upon but the walls of his cell. This morning the west side had been broken down in order to remove the body of the dead man and to cleanse the cell for the new-comer. So, while we gathered round in a circle, and the people stood behind us, the Abbot entered the cell, and censed it, and sprinkled it with holy water, singing more Psalms and more prayers. When he came forth the recluse himself entered, saying aloud: _Hæc requies mea in seculum seculi_. The choir sang another Psalm. Then the Abbot sprinkled dust upon the head of the recluse with the words beginning _De terra plasmasti_. This done, the _Operarius cum suis operariis_ replaced the stones and built up the wall anew. And then, singing another Psalm, we went back to the cloister, leaving the Sub-prior to begin his lifelong imprisonment. A stone bench for bed, his frock for blanket, a crucifix, and no other furniture. In the cold nights that followed, lying in my bed in the dormitory, I often bethought myself of the former Sub-prior alone in his dark cell, with Devils whispering temptation through the grating (Devils always assail every new recluse), well-nigh frozen, praying with trembling lips and chattering teeth. No, I am not worthy. Such things are too high for me.” It seems as if, for a period of some hundred years, every monastic house and many churches possessed a recluse, man or woman. They were specially bound to pray for the House or the Church, probably for the parish as well. They frequently arrived at a reputation of the highest sanctity; they were consulted as an oracle. Thus Richard the Second, before he started on his dangerous journey to put down the rebellion, consulted the anchorite of Westminster. So also Henry the Fifth spent the night after his father’s funeral in weeping, prayer, and confession with the anchorite’s successor.