From the West Gate the High Street slopes down to the Itchen. On the right stands the old Butter Cross, in rather a cramped position. Two reasons have been given for its name: one, that during Lent, those wishing to eat butter could do so by consuming it by the cross; the other, and more probable, explanation is that here came farmers wishing to dispose of their butter, which they exposed for sale on the steps of the cross. The structure is of fifteenth-century date, but has been much restored, the only original figure on it being that of St. Amphibalus. Just beside the cross is the interesting little opening that leads into the Close, and in which is the entrance to St. Lawrence Church, of which nothing is visible from this point but the doorway, and the tower rising above the surrounding houses. This church has been said to be the Mother Church of the diocese of Winchester, an idea that may have owed its origin to the fact that before proceeding to the Cathedral to be enthroned the bishops designate enter this ancient church to robe and "ring themselves in". Only the other day, May 6, 1911, Dr. Talbot followed this old custom, and the people listened eagerly for the number of rings, as these are supposed to denote the number of years the bishop will be at the head of the diocese. It may be of interest to chronicle that Dr. Talbot rang nine times. Near the church at one time was an open space called the Square, where were situated the Pillory and Whipping Post. The palace of William I is said to have occupied this site, and St. Lawrence's Church may possibly have been the private chapel of the royal residence. A fragment of Norman masonry gives a certain amount of probability to the supposition, while at the beginning of last century some workmen excavating in Market Street came across the foundations of an ancient tower, of great thickness and strength. The present arched and narrow entrance from High Street leads to the fine avenue of limes that forms the principal approach to the west front of the Cathedral, begun by Edington _circa_ 1360, the severe simplicity of which has been much criticized, Ruskin assailing it furiously in the _Stones of Venice_. On the apex of the gable is a canopied niche containing a statue of Wykeham.