100 THE BRIGHTON ROAD 



the unexpected voice of the sexton, " be hynde," 

 remarking that it is arnshunt." 



The sturdy old tower is crowned with a gilded 

 weather vane representing Noah's dove returning to 

 the Ark with the olive-leaf, when the waters were 

 abated from off the earth : a device peculiarly 

 appropriate, intentionally or not, to Crawley, over- 

 looking the oft-flooded valley of the Mole. 



But the most interesting feature of this church is 

 the rude representation of the Trinity carved on the 

 western face of the tower : three awful figures of very 

 ancient date, on a diminishing scale, built into fifteenth- 

 century niches. Above, on the largest scale, is the 

 Supreme Being, holding what seems to be intended 

 for a wheel, one of the ancient symbols of eternity. 

 The sculptor, endeavouring to realise the grovelling 

 superstition of his remote age, has put his " fear of 

 God," in a very literal sense, into the grim, truculent, 

 merciless, all-judging smile of the image ; and thus, 

 in enduring stone, we have preserved to us the terrified 

 minds of the dark ages, when God, the loving Father, 

 was' non-existent, and was only the Judge, swift to 

 punish. The other figures are merely like infantile 

 grotesques. 



XXIII 



There is but one literary celebrity whose name goes 

 down to posterity associated with Crawley. At Vine 

 Cottage, near the railway station, resided Mark Lemon, 

 editor of Punch, who died here on May 20th, 1870. 

 Since his time the expansion of Crawley has caused 

 the house to be converted into a grocer's shop. 



The only other inhabitant of Crawley whose 

 deeds informed the world at large of his name and 

 existence was Tom Cribb, the bruiser. But though I 

 lighted upon the statement of his residence here 

 at one time, yet, after hunting up details of 



