[Picture: Brook Street, and Liverpool Arms Hotel] Leaving now the Station, we see upon our left hand the lofty SHOT TOWER and LEAD WORKS of Messrs. Walker, Parker and Co., proprietors of a similar establishment near London Bridge; while on the right our view is obstructed by the handsome and commodious Bridge which here stretches across the railway, and connects the city with its suburb, Flookersbrook. Those carpetbags and cloaks, by-the-bye, however useful they may be in their way, are but superfluous companions for a jaunt about the city. Suppose, then, we drop in at the LIVER, a most respectable HOTEL, within hail of the Station, and there depositing our luggage in one of the cosy bedrooms of that establishment, we will sally forth on our mission. After one night’s sojourn at this house you’ll know _your_, hotel, we promise you, for all future time. Wending our way into the city, along Brook Street, we come in due course to COWLANE BRIDGE, erected in 1776, when the canal which flows beneath it was originally projected. [Picture: Chester Cathedral, from Cowlane Bridge] From this point we have our first glimpse of the CATHEDRAL and CITY WALLS, and a venerable sight it is, as our little illustration sufficiently testifies. Towering aloft above surrounding objects the sacred fane of St. Werburgh, presents itself to our view, in all its massive but rugged proportions, as the mother church of a vast and populous diocese. Of the Cathedral itself, as also of the Walls, we shall have abundance to say by-and-bye. Cast your eye to the right, along the hue of the City Walls, and at their north-east angle take a distant view of yon reverend turret, overhanging the Canal. How forcibly does it remind us that— The days of old, though time has reft The splendours they once cast, Yet many a relic still is left To shadow forth the past! People call it, in these days, the PHŒNIX TOWER; but two hundred years ago, and even then it was accounted _old_, the name it usually bore was _Newton’s Tower_. On its lofty ramparts, in 1645, stood the royal martyr, King Charles, to witness a sanguinary contest not far from the city, which ended in the total defeat of his troops by the parliamentary forces. In that day’s struggle, and in the Siege that followed it, many a Chester hero bit the dust; and the roll-call that evening proclaimed many an infant fatherless, many a wife a widow! But why should we anticipate? We shall soon be close to the very walls of this Tower, and may then soliloquise to our heart’s content on those terrible times.