drunk. How do I
detest myself for being so foolish!

"In the even, read the twelfth and last book of Milton's _Paradise
Lost_, which I have now read twice through.

"Mr. Banister having lately taken from the smugglers a freight of
brandy, entertained Mr. Carman, Mr. Fuller, and myself, in the even,
with a bowl of punch."

Although the Pelhams owned Halland, their principal seat was at
Laughton, two or three miles to the south. Of that splendid Tudor
mansion little now remains but one brick tower. In the vault of the
church, which has been much restored, no fewer than forty Pelhams
repose.

Chiddingly church presents the completest contrast to East Hoathly's
over-decorated yet accessible fane that could be imagined. Its door is
not only kept shut, but a special form of locked bar seems to have been
invented for it, and on the day that I was last there the churchyard
gate was padlocked too. The spire of white stone (visible for many
miles)--a change from the customary oak shingling of Sussex--has been
bound with iron chains that suggest the possibility of imminent
dissolution, while within, the building is gloomy and time-stained. If
at East Hoathly the church gives the impression of a too complacent
prosperity, here we have precisely the reverse. The state of the
Jefferay monument behind a row of rude railings is in keeping.

[Sidenote: THE PROUD JEFFERAYS]

In the Jefferay monument, by the way, the statues at either side stand
on two circular tablets, which are not unlike the yellow cheeses of
Alkmaar. It was possibly this circumstance that led to the myth that the
Jefferays, too proud to walk on the ground, had on Sundays a series of
cheeses ranged between their house and the church, on which to step.
Their house was Chiddingly Place, built by Sir John Jefferay, who died
in 1577. Remains of this great mansion are still to be seen. It was
during Sir John's time that Chiddingly had a vicar, William Titelton,
sufficiently flexible to retain the living under Henry VIII., Edward
VI., Mary, and Elizabeth.

Here, in the eighteenth century, lived one William Elphick, a devotee of
bell-ringing, who computed that altogether he had rung Chiddingly's
triple bell for 8,766 hours (which is six hours more than a year), and
who travelled upwards of ten thousand miles to ring the bells of other
churches.

Mark Antony Lower, most interesting of the Sussex archaeologists, to whom
these pages have been much indebted, was born