This imposing structure impresses every beholder by the vast proportions and stern simplicity of its mighty bulk. The massive walls rise to a height of more than 75 feet, and are of amazing thickness and solidity; a spiral staircase, set deep within the wall, gave access to the several floors and to the rampart around the summit, which commands a wide sweep of the circumjacent landscape, with a glimpse of the winding Haven. The floors have long since fallen away, though the holes for the beams that supported them may still be seen, and two huge fireplaces with yawning archways of enormous size. Lancet-windows and loops for the archers open out here and there; one of the former, high up the wall (which appears in our sketch), retaining some touches of ornamentation. 'The Toppe of this round Towr,' as Leland quaintly puts it, 'is gatherid with a Rose of Stone;' and, despite seven centuries of rough weather and hard usage, the huge fabric appears intrinsically little the worse for wear, and capable still of making a stand ''gainst the tooth of time and razure of oblivion,' for many a long year to come. A stroll around the outer walls, and a peep at the Monkton Tower, completes our perambulation of Pembroke Castle. With its neighbours of Manorbere, Tenby and Carew, Pembroke formed a quadrilateral, planted to guard this exposed district against attack from without: moreover, as Professor Freeman has pointed out, this time-honoured fortress has a special interest for the antiquarian student, as affording an unusually complete example of a mediæval castle protecting a civic settlement. In the course of a ramble around the town, we turn into old St. Mary's Church, a handsome edifice containing some curiously sculptured tombs and a brand-new reredos. A low, massive tower rises at one end of the church; and hard by it stands the quaint cupola of the old market-house, which, adorned with a clock, and little figures of boys by way of pinnacles, makes a pretty show in the view along the High Street. Many of the older houses have an unpretentious charm about them, with their antiquated bow-windows and wide oak staircases with twisted balusters. Not a few of the better sort have old-fashioned gardens to the rear, abloom in summer days with homely flowers, and redolent of honeysuckle, lavender and jasmine. [Illustration: THE OLD WEST GATE. PEMBROKE.] Of the three town gates described by Leland, a scanty remnant of the West Gate is all that now survives. Proceeding down the main street, with the castle walls upon our right hand, we pass a group of cottages jumbled all together upon a rising bank beside the highway, whence they are approached by flights of crazy steps. A glance at our sketch of these picturesque old structures (which have already been partially 'restored' since this view was taken) will show the broken arch of the demolished West Gate, and the castle walls frowning across the roadway, which has been widened out since the gate was removed.