Passing along the park, enter the pleasant village of Stackpool, where the ancient lords’ vassals resided: hence descend to a vale on the right, where a private gate leads through a woody avenue to the church of Chereton, or Stackpool Elidur, so named from its founder. It stands at the head of a sequestered dell; is a plain building, with a tower; consists of a nave and chancel, having two small aisles on the south side. On the north side of the chancel, under a wrought canopy of stone, lies a cross-legged knight, said to represent Elidur de Stackpool, the first possessor of Stackpool; the same whom Giraldus mentions, who took the cross at the time that Archbishop Baldwin made his transit through the country. Ascend to St. Petroc’s, a rectory in the gift of Lord Cawdor: the church is small, but very light and neat. The only conspicuous monument is a handsome mural marble tablet, to a Lady Jane Mansell, wife first of Sir Roger Lort, and afterwards Sir Edward Mansell, of Muddlescombe, Bart. in the county of Caermarthen. The rectors of this place have been observed to live to a great age. At a short distance from Stackpool stands the chapel of St. Gowen, situated in a fine amphitheatre of rocks, rising immediately over the sea. In respect to this scene, the Author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature, thus expresses himself:—“As for you, my Lelius, never shall I forget your enthusiasm, when we visited the chapel of St. Gowen, situated among those stupendous rocks, which, forming a semicircular area towards the sea, commands a noble prospect of the coast of Devon. The language you employed on that interesting occasion, never can I be so base as to forget! ‘If our prayers are at one time more acceptable than at another, it must assuredly be in those moments when our souls are elevated by such scenery as this! Often have I been awed to devotion at Rome and at Loretto, in the presence of Canons, Bishops, and Cardinals; but here, in the rude simplicity of nature, I feel my spirit separate, as it were, from the tenement which has so long chained it to the earth, and wing its course directly up to heaven! The magnificent area, in which this small chapel is situated, is a temple more sublimely grand and affecting than all the mosques of Turkey, and all the cathedrals of France, Italy, or Spain.’” At Pembroke we hired a boat, {80a} intending to sail round the extensive Haven of Milford; and, as we retired from the shore, we took a retrospect of the dilapidated walls of the castle, once the terror, and even in ruins, the pride of the scene. It is most advisable to make this excursion at high water, as it adds much to the picturesque scenery of the _tout ensemble_. MILFORD HAVEN,