Madlock, a most Prophane Swarer, being Employ'd in Cleaning the outside of the Steeple," fell, owing to a breaking rope, and soon after died.

Mr.Spershott adds: "A warning to Swarers." Another entry states: "In my younger years there were many very large corpulent Persons in the City, both of Men and Women.

I could now recite by name between twenty and thirty, the great part of that number so Prodigious that like other animals Thoroughly fatted, they could hardly move about." One of Chichester's epitaphs runs thus:-- Here lies a true soldier, whom all must applaud; Much hardship he suffer'd at home and abroad; But the hardest engagement he ever was in, Was the battle of Self in the conquest of Sin.
[Sidenote: THE PERFECT ALMSHOUSE] I have left until the last the prettiest thing in this city of comely streets and houses--St.Mary's Hospital, at the end of Lion Street (out of North Street): the quaintest almshouse in the world.

The building stands back, behind the ordinary houses, and is gained by a passage and a courtyard.

You then enter what seems to be a church, for at the far end is an altar beneath an unmistakably ecclesiastical window.