rly printed books and other relics of the minster
that add very greatly to the interest of the place.

The monument to Hugh Ripley, who was the last Wakeman of Ripon and
first Mayor in 1604, is on the north side of the nave facing the
entrance to the crypt, popularly called 'St. Wilfrid's Needle.' A
rather difficult flight of steps goes down to a narrow passage leading
into a cylindrically vaulted cell with niches in the walls. At the
north-east corner is the curious slit or 'Needle' that has been thought
to have been used for purposes of trial by ordeal, the innocent person
being able to squeeze through the narrow opening.

In reality it is probably nothing more than an arrangement for lighting
two cells with one lamp. The crypt is of such a plainly Roman type, and
is so similar to the one at Hexham, that it is generally accepted as
dating from the early days of Christianity in Yorkshire, and there can
be little doubt that it is a relic of Wilfrid's church in those early
times.

At a very convenient distance from Ripon, and approached by a pleasant
lane, are the lovely glades of Studley Royal, the noble park containing
the ruins of Fountains Abbey. Below the well-kept pathway runs the
Skell, but so transformed from its early character that you would
imagine the pathways wind round the densely-wooded slopes, and give a
dozen different views of each mass of trees, each temple, and each bend
of the river. At last, from a considerable height, you have the lovely
view of the abbey ruins illustrated here. At every season its charm is
unmistakable, and even if no stately tower and no roofless arches
filled the centre of the prospect, the scene would be almost as
memorable. It is only one of the many pictures in the park that a
retentive memory will hold as some of the most remarkable in England.

Among the ruins the turf is kept in perfect order, and it is pleasant
merely to look upon the contrast of the green carpet that is so evenly
laid between the dark stonework. The late-Norman nave, with its solemn
double line of round columns, the extremely graceful arches of the
Chapel of the Nine Altars, and the magnificent vaulted perspective of
the dark cellarium of the lay-brothers, are perhaps the most
fascinating portions of the buildings. I might be well compared with
the last abbot but one, William Thirsk, who resigned his post,
forseeing the coming Dissolution, and was therefore called 'a varra
fole and a misereble ideote