“St. Martin’s at the Plain” stands close by the scene of the memorable battle between the rebels under Kett, where Lord Sheffield fell, and many other gentlemen and soldiers: the conflict lasted from nine o’clock on Lammas morning until noon. The World’s End lane leads hence to the dwelling of Sir Thomas Erpingham, long since transformed from a sumptuous mansion into the abode of poverty, its chambers subdivided and parcelled out, defaced and disguised by whitewash and plaster, and yet more by the accumulations of dirt and decay; until it needs the microscopic vision of an archæologist to trace even its outline, among such a mass of confusion and rubbish. “St. Helen’s,” which belonged to the monks, is now cut up into three parts, the choir being turned into lodgings for poor women, part of the nave and aisles into the same for poor men, while the intermediate portion is used for divine services. A charity that owns an annual income of £10,000, might, we think, find some better arrangements possible to be made. Kirkpatrick, the celebrated antiquarian, lies buried here. Over the south entrance to the church are these lines— The house of God King Henry the Eight of noble Fame Bequeathed the City this commodious place, With lands and rents he did endow the same, To help decrepit age in woful case, Edward the Sixth, that prince of royal stem, Performed his father’s generous bequest. Good Queen _Eliza_, imitating them, Ample endowments added to the rest; Their pious deeds we gratefully record, While Heaven them crowns with glorious reward.