We could but think of some of the celebrated men who had looked upon these identical scenes. We thought of the Kembles, who here managed the theatre. They are of world-wide celebrity, beginning with old Roger, born in this town in 1721, and dying in 1802,--the father of twelve children, among whom are Sarah (Mrs. Siddons), and John Philip, the eldest son, and Charles, the youngest, born, respectively in 1757 and 1775, and dying in 1823 and 1854. We thought also of David Garrick of histrionic renown, born here in 1716, the personal friend of Dr. Samuel Johnson of dictionary notoriety. We walk to the River Wye, on which the town is situated, and which is crossed by an ancient, six-arched bridge. The cathedral, as at Worcester, is to the left, and on land rather elevated from the river. Hereford strongly resembles that place, though without the river promenade, and with less refinement. The cathedral, of course, must have attention. Founded in 1072, it was building during the next two hundred years. Mostly in the Norman style, it is 325 feet long, 110 feet through the transepts, and has a grand old central tower, 160 feet high, ending with a battlement and corner turrets. The color of its stone is light drab, much resembling that at Worcester. Every part is in good repair, and the interior has a very imposing look. We were by no means prepared for the bold finish and fine windows for the chapels and cloisters, and, above all, for the well kept lawn and trees of the Bishop's Palace, and other ecclesiastical houses. The Lady Chapel is one of the finest in England, and the cathedral library has very valuable manuscripts, among them one of Wycliffe's Bibles, very rare. The monuments date back to the eleventh century. In what profusion are the antique slabs, with their great brass crosses. How the very atmosphere of the place is fragrant with the memory of the sainted dead! In visiting these cathedrals, in looking on the ruins of ancient abbey or monastery,--so complete in themselves, and exhibiting such evidence of former grandeur,--one is inclined to feel that each is _the_ cathedral of all England,--the Mecca of all the Church; for what is lacking? Not capacity or costliness; not lack of graves of kings, earls, barons, or lords, for here beneath our feet repose the dust of enough such for an entire kingdom. Webster well said of another place: "I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set our foot upon some revered history."