had a house in the town, and the ruins of a chapel of the order, consisting of little more than the foundations, may be traced on the heights above the town. These were tributary to the PRECEPTORY AT SWINGFIELD, the remains of which have been converted into a farmhouse. The eastern part, formerly the Chapel, exhibits three lancet-shaped lights, and rising into the gable are three circular windows above these. King John is said to have resigned his crown to the haughty Pandulph, the Pope's legate, in the Chapel of Swingfield.

THE CHAPEL OF OUR LADY OF PITY was washed away by the sea in 1576. Its site is still marked to the east of Archcliff Fort in the name of Chapel Plain.

THE DOMUS DEI, the Maison Dieu, the Hospital of St. Mary, endowed by Hubert de Burgh for poor pilgrims, is used, as I have already said, as Sessions House, Town-hall and Prison. In the middle-ages such hospitals were perhaps the most useful institutions, as besides affording aid to travellers, the brotherhood, both priests and laymen, attended the sick inhabitants of the town.

THE WALLS of Roman Dover may still be traced, and the site of several of the gates is preserved in tablets, placed on the adjoining walls, to the spots upon which they formerly stood. The names of the Emperors, Adrian and Severus still survive in the appellations of the streets,

which, though mean and poor in appearance, for the sake of their venerable antiquity, it is hoped will be preserved. THE WATLING STREET, as already stated, enters the town at Begin-Gate.

THE CLIFFS around Dover afford the most delightful walks; the views by land and sea, all highly picturesque and varying. Of these, St. Margaret's, the Castle Rock, Western Heights, Shakspere's Cliff, and Abbot's Cliff, are the most lofty. I inclose you a sketch of SHAKSPERE'S CLIFF, and a veritable piece of samphire gathered from the rock, upon which our little party rested, whilst Freckleton, with great taste and feeling, gave us a recitation of the sixth scene of the fourth act in King Lear. You can fancy, under these circumstances, the force of the lines:

Stand still how fearful

And dizzy 'tis to cast one's eyes so low!

The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air,
Shew scarce so gross as beetles :-Half-way down
Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!
Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.
The fishermen that walk upon the beach
Appear like mice; and yon tall anchoring bark,
Diminished to her cock;-her cock, a buoy,
Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge,

That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high.-I'll look no more,
Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight,
Topple down headlong."

But the scene is changed, and Abbot's Cliff