"Reader, pardon an Excursion caused by just _Grief_ and _Anger_. Many, counting themselves Protestants in England, do slight and neglect that _Ordinance_ of _God_, by which their Religion was _set up_, and _gave Credit_ to it in the first _Reformation_; I mean, CATECHISING. Did not our _Saviour_ say even to Saint _Peter_ himself, 'Feed my Lambs, feed my Sheep'? And why _Lambs_ first? 1. Because they were _Lambs_ before they were _Sheep_. 2. Because, if they be not fed whilst _Lambs_ they could never be _Sheep_. 3. Because _Sheep_ can in some sort feed themselves; but _Lambs_ (such their tenderness) must either be _fed_ or _famished_. Our Stapleton was excellent at this _Lamb-feeding_." An epitaph in Henfield Church is worth copying for its quaint mixture of mythology and theology. It bears upon the death of a lad, Meneleb Raynsford, aged nine, who died in 1627:-- Great Jove hath lost his Gannymede, I know, Which made him seek another here below-- And finding none--not one--like unto this, Hath ta'en him hence into eternal bliss. Cease, then, for thy dear Meneleb to weep, God's darling was too good for thee to keep: But rather joy in this great favour given, A child on earth is made a saint in heaven. Three miles east of Henfield, and a little to the north, is a farm the present tenant of which has made an interesting experiment. He found in the house an old map of the county, and identifying his own estate, discovered a large sheet of water marked on it. On examining the site he saw distinct traces of this ancient lake, and at once set about building a dam to restore it. Water now, once again, fills the hollow, completely transforming this part of the country, and bringing into it wild duck and herons as of old. The lake is completely hidden from the neighbouring roads and is accessible only by field paths, but it is well worth finding. [Sidenote: A WOODCOCK ON AN OAK] There once hung in the parlour of Henfield's chief inn--I wonder if it is there still--a rude etching of local origin, rather in the manner of Buss's plates to _Pickwick_, representing an inn kitchen filled with a jolly company listening uproariously to a fat farmer by the fire, who, with arm raised, told his tale. Underneath was written, "Mr. West describing how he saw a woodcock settle on an oak"--a perfect specimen of the Sussex joke. [Illustration: _Church Street, Steyning._] CHAPTER XV STEYNING AND BRAMBER Saint Cuthman and his mother--Steyning's architecture--Steyning's wise passiveness--Bramber castle--A corrupt pocket borough--A Taxidermist-humorist--Joseph Poorgrass in Sussex--The widow of Beeding and the Romney--A digression on curio-hunting. Of great interest and antiquity is Steyning, the little grey and red town which huddles under the hill four miles to Henfield's south-west. [Sidenote: THE ADVENTURES OF CUTHMAN]