No groups of buildings are in their way more charming or more impregnated with human associations than the famous episcopal foundation of St. Cross--an asylum of peace and rest, comfort and repose, to those who find shelter within its ancient walls, and a standing monument to the memory of the pious Henry de Blois and the princely churchman, Cardinal Beaufort. Winchester, like many an English city, would be shorn of much of its interest were this benevolent institution to be removed. The general air of peace and quietude, the grass-bordered walks, the stately church, all contribute to convey an appeal which is almost sacred in its simple eloquence. In the words of one who loved it well: "No one can pass its threshold without feeling himself landed, as it were, in another age. The ancient features of the building, the noble gateway, the quadrangle, the common refectory, the cloister, and, rising above all, the lofty and massive pile of the venerable church, the uniform garb and reverend mien of the aged brethren, the common provision for their declining years, the dole at the gatehouse, all lead back our thoughts to days when men gave their best to God's honour, and looked on what was done to His poor as done to Himself, and were as lavish of architectural beauty on what modern habits might deem a receptacle for beggars, as on the noblest of royal palaces. It seems a place where no worldly thought, no pride, or passion, or irreverence could enter; a spot where, as a modern writer has beautifully expressed it, a good man, might he make his choice, would wish to die." The country around this beautiful city by the Itchen is full of quiet charm, for life's ever-changing drama has but one and the same background. The actors come and go, but the stage remains much the same, and the devotions, the meditations, and the acts of men who lived centuries ago were set in the amphitheatre of the same green hills, and took place beside the same winding river as those we gaze upon to-day. [Illustration: PLAN OF WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL] Literature, too, has worthy names here in Izaak Walton and Jane Austen, both of whom lie buried in the cathedral; while the house at Winchester in which the author of _Persuasion_ lived, for a brief period before her death, stands beyond the college gate. Above the door is a wooden tablet recording that here Jane Austen spent her last days, dying July 18, 1817. She had previously resided at Chawton for some eight years, but her house in the village is now a Workmen's Club. At the same time, Chawton is a pretty little spot, watered by land springs, known locally as "lavants"; while some few miles away is Farrington, where Gilbert White, of "Selborne" fame, was curate. Other literary associations of the Winchester country are those furnished by Hursley, where John Keble was vicar; by Otterbourne, the home for many years of Charlotte Yonge; and by Eversley, where Winchester's immortal son, Charles Kingsley, lies buried.