XI. There were originally sixteen canons or priests at Southwell in charge of the services. But as they mostly resided in their country parishes, they were allowed to appoint sixteen vicars or deputies, to do their work for them. These vicars, like the canons, formed a college or corporation. The vicars also found the work hard, and were aided by paid lay-clerks and choir-boys. Besides these there was a college of thirteen chantry-priests. In later days there used to be in residence at Southwell only one canon out of the sixteen; he came into residence only once in four years, and only stayed three months. The handsome block of brick houses to the east of the minster was built in 1780: the eastern house for the canon in residence; the two houses on each side for four of the vicars (the number of whom had dwindled to six). The Cathedral Church of St. Andrew, Wells. [Illustration: FROM NORTH-WEST.] “The traveller who comes down the hill from Shepton Mallet,” says Professor Freeman, “looks down on a group of buildings without a rival either in our own island or beyond the seas.” “From a distance,” says Mr. Peabody, “the towers and lantern of the cathedral rise above rounded masses of green foliage. When we reach its walls, we find them springing from the azure depths of crystalline pools, from emerald lawns and arching trees, the home of cawing rooks and soaring pigeons. Close to the very walls of the ancient cathedral rises one of the noblest springs in the world, to which city and cathedral owe their name; an ever-abounding and magnificent outburst of waters at the side of the Lady chapel, surging up in a boiling heap in the midst of the unfathomed depths of a translucent pool; then bounding over in an impetuous cascade, which carries it into the Bishop’s moat, to encircle palace and rampart and towers, till it rests in glassy clearness over many-coloured forests of branching or feathery or star-like water-weeds. Never did a Frenchman form such harmonies of church and scenery as one sees at Lichfield, at Salisbury, and at Wells, in their setting of close and cloister and lake, of brilliant garden and clipped green lawn and immemorial elms. Above rise three gray, time worn towers; the music of the chimes vibrates and dies away: “‘Lord, through this hour Be Thou our guide, That by Thy power No foot may slide.’ So from hour to hour chant the bells over the peaceful beauty of the bishop’s gardens and terraces and the ancient ivy-clad palace; while within the lonely nave, as the fading sunlight shines through the western window, and casts its coloured glories on sculptured tomb and carved boss and gray stone wall, the organ notes pulsate through the stony fabric: “‘Through long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.’