ms a connecting link between the dim past and this
present time. It is, as it were, a monument perpetuating the memory of
a great period and a great institution.

If the atmosphere be clear we should ascend the spiral staircase, and
from the summit, no great height indeed, we shall gain a view of the
town with the encircling river, and the vale with the surrounding
hills. The tower still performs its function, and every day the chimes
play a different tune, all familiar airs that never tire, but with
repetition seem rather to gain in association and charm.

If we take the path from the tower which brings us to the left side of
Saint Lawrence's church, we skirt an old wall which bounded the great
courtyard of the Abbey, and joined the great church to the gate-house.
We soon come to a door of fifteenth century workmanship, and close by
is a curious Gothic chimney of about the same date. On the inner side
was the porter's lodge, and from here to the adjacent church of Saint
Lawrence ran a covered way, probably a vaulted passage like a cloister
walk, through which the officiating priest would enter. If we proceed
we soon find ourselves at the bottom of Vine Street, and looking
across Merstow Green; and over the house-tops, bounding the horizon we
see Clark's Hill, a steep bank on the opposite side of the river,
traditionally said to have been planted by the monks as a vineyard. On
our left is a large plastered building enclosed within substantial
iron railings. This was once the great gatehouse of the Monastery, and
was built in the fourteenth century by Abbot Chiriton, who obtained a
special licence from King Edward the Third to fortify the abbey
precincts. The windows and the wing projecting outwards are
comparatively modern, but a Gothic window may be seen in the wall
facing the churchyard, and the original arches can be traced on the
garden front. Close by, and possibly adjoining, was the Barton Gate
which led to the stables and outhouses. The long low building of
stone and timber, washed over in the old manner with lime, which rises
from the grass on our left was once the Almonry of the Abbey. It is
now occupied as offices and separate dwellings. The front is extremely
picturesque with its buttresses, perpendicular window and quaint
openings. The western portion, built mainly of timber, with here and
there the remains of carving, and a diaper imprinted on the plaster,
contains the great fireplace, clearly indicated on