There only remains to notice the last period of restoration, the first time in which, as far as we can judge, granite was introduced into the building. The date may be found on the westernmost of the two pillars--MDLX4: on the other the words, “This is the House of the Lord.” It is noticeable that the half polyphant pillar, which had at one time formed the boundary of the arcade towards the east, was then carried forwards and placed against the wall of the chancel. It thus seems to mark, not only that the arcade was designed at different periods, but that it was ultimately (the former portion being taken down) all built together. It was at this time (c. 1564) that the whole fabric of the church (possibly not the chancel) was built [it may be clearly seen where the new work stands on the old early English foundations on the north side], the only remaining portion untaken down being the Norman and early English pillars, and a portion of the wall by the south porch, and (as before observed) possibly the chancel. The tower was, we may consider, built at the same time as the church, in 1564. The seats, with their magnificent carving, followed in 1575, as is testified by an inscription[161] on the rail of the front seat touching the pulpit. This will, however, be removed in due course, the position of these few seats being contrary to the original plan. I should think that this rail and the seats also were formerly fixed where the font at present stands at the end of the church. As we stand within the walls and beneath the bending roofs of this magnificent building, our mind naturally inquires what teaching its designs serve to afford us--the cable on its font, the dog-tooth pattern on its Norman arches. Is it really true that, following out the established teaching of the nave, whereby the ship with inverted side was depicted to us--is it really true that, following out this idea, the cable implied the anchor by which every soul baptized into Christ was bound _to_ Christ? Does the pattern, with its many points (“dog-tooth,” as it is generally spoken of), really signify the ripple on the Lake of Gennesaret? Do the three steps by which we enter allude in very deed to the Baptism of John, the saint of dedication? It would certainly seem probable that, having acknowledged the church to be the nave or ship, we should not find that the imagery would end here, but that it would pass into other matters which the mediæval times knew so well how to formulate. If so, we have a rich vein of thought to be wrought out from this ancient sanctuary of the West, all untouched as it is by ruthless and destructive hands. Solemn be the thoughts of all who enter here! Lowly and humble the hearts that here bend at the feet of their great Liberator and Saviour! In the words of one who will long be remembered in the parish which he loved so well, Robert Stephen Hawker--