the chapter-house.  Though the figures have been considerably mutilated and weather-worn it will be seen that the carving is of great beauty; the outer figures are seated while the inner ones stand, and over both are placed canopies of tabernacle work.  We know this as the work of Abbot Brokehampton, by whom it was erected early in the fourteenth century.  The bare face of the arch was originally hidden by the stone vault forming the roof of the passage already referred to.  The chapter-house stood out in the field; but much farther, even to the edge of the bank which slopes down to the monks’ fish ponds, did the choir and Lady chapel extend.

As we retrace our steps we follow the line of the transepts.  When we reach the exposed foundations, let us pause awhile and allow our imagination full sway.  We are standing in the midst of the choir, in the “dim religious light” of a great mediaeval church.  Above is the “high embowed roof” of the central tower; around are the stalls set in a screen of woodwork intricately carved.  All is mellowed by the “storied windows,” which break the light into many coloured rays.  Looking westward, over the blank wall, we should see in vision the tall rood screen and gallery, and, stretching far beyond, the long vista of Norman arches and painted roof:  and through the screen glimpses would reach us of the many-coloured west window.  Let us turn round, and in place of sunlit trees and river conjure up the broad flight of stone steps, the stately sanctuary above, with its glorious reredos enriched with tabernacle work and carving, gold, silver, and colours; and the clerestory lights shedding that sweet lustre we have seen somewhere never to forget!

The bell tower rising in solitary state beside us cannot wait for its true chronological order.  It is one of the few existing examples of many separate belfries built to hold the bells either for convenience, or in cases where the towers of the church were of insufficient strength.  As a rule these buildings were much broader and less graceful in design.  This tower has been critcised as “squat,” but considering its use it will be seen that a broad base is essential to its character.  In reality, it is remarkable how much delicacy and grace have been given by form and proportion, without lessening the strength or utility.  The tower was built by Clement Lichfield in the last years of his abbacy, and hardly finished at his resignation in 1539.  That the builder and his local contemporaries were proud of this last ornament to the town, is proved by the inscription on Lichfield’s grave, which concludes with the line “in whose time the new tower of Evesham was built.”