onqueror.

Battle Abbey, since the time of our visit, has passed into the
possession of an American, who has taken up his residence there. This
case is typical of not a few that came to our attention during our stay
in England. Many of the historic places that have for generations been
in the possession of members of the nobility have been sold to wealthy
Americans or Englishmen who have made fortunes in business. These
transactions are made possible by a law that permits entailed estates to
be sold when the owner becomes embarrassed to such an extent that he can
no longer maintain them. And some of these places are sold at
astonishingly low figures--a fraction of their cost. It is another of
the signs of the changing social conditions in the British Empire.

A quaint old village is Winchelsea, on the coast about fifteen miles
from Battle. It is a small, straggling place, with nothing but its
imposing though ruinous church and the massive gateways of its ancient
walls remaining to indicate that at one time it was a seaport of some
consequence. But here, as at Pevensey, the sea receded several miles,
destroying Winchelsea's harbor. Its mosts interesting relic is the
parish church, built about 1288. The greater portion of this is now in
ruins, nothing remaining but the nave, which is still used for services.
In the churchyard, under a great tree, still standing, John Wesley
preached his last open-air sermon.

[Illustration: WINCHELSEA CHURCH AND ELM TREE.]

Two miles from Winchelsea is Rye, another of the decayed seaports of the
southeast coast. A few small fishing vessels still frequent its harbor,
but the merchant ships, which used to contribute to its prosperity, are
no longer seen. It is larger than Winchelsea and is built on a hill, its
steep, narrow streets being lined with quaint houses. These two queer
towns seem indeed like an echo from the past. It does not appear that
there have been any changes of consequence in them for the past several
hundred years. People continue to live in such villages because the
average Englishman has a great aversion to leaving his native land. One
would think that there would be emigration from such places to the
splendid lands of Western Canada, but these lands are not being taken by
Englishmen, although the opportunity is being widely advertised by the
Canadian Government and the various transportation companies. And yet
one can hardly wonder at the reluctance of the native Eng