Mr John Goodwin, the mayor of the ensuing year, (1728–,) distinguished himself, according to the same narrative, in another way, by setting down a stone-cistern at the end of the Fish-Shambles, and also endowing one of the Almshouses in broad Street for one poor man with two shillings a week.—His successor, Mr. Andrew Taylor, distinguished himself still differently: for, as the same narrative words it, “He did abundance of good, as he thought, by taking away guns and killing of dogs; but was a friend to the Church, which he seldom troubled.” That is, if we rightly comprehend the meaning, he was, in talk, a mighty zealot for the Church, though he seldom would condescend, or deem it worth his while to honour it with his presence: which, to all thinking and discerning people, was a sure sign and clear proof that all his noisy zeal was nothing but mere pretence, to answer some mercenary or hypocritical end; and but for which he in reality cared no more for the church than the most heathenish or irreligious of his neighbours. How many such churchmen as this Andrew Taylor have been mayors of this town since his time, it is impossible to say; but that numbers of them have pretended to be very stanch and zealous for the Church, while they seldom attended its stated service, or public worship, is very certain. That there were none of this description among the present members of the Hall seems much to be wished; and especially that a truly and christian spirit towards those of other denominations was more visible and predominant among them; which yet is suspected not to have been altogether the case at the formation or establishment of the Lancastrian school, and in some subsequent circumstances relating to that event. But this is not the proper place to make these matters the subjects of inquiry, investigation, or animadversion. {912}