that the walls of the town of Arundel and the view is wide and fair; westwards over the those of Chichester should be destroyed. Since more peaceful times have reigned, within England at least, restoration has been at work somewhat busily, and several Royal visits have wakened "our loyal passion for our temperate kings," in the steep highstreet and in the public-houses of the borough. A borough, alas! it is now no longer. Having enjoyed, in the good old times, the luxury of a couple of members, it was reduced to a pittance of one by the first Reform Bill, and entirely disfranchised by the second.

rich country, over the delicate distant spire of Chichester, to the farther downs of the Isle of Wight; southwards to the mouth of the little river Arun and the port of Littlehampton lying with sea-side pastures around it, level with the sea; eastwards to the South Downs; and northwards over the home. garden and the thick woods of the lower park to Burpham, where British antiquities of no small importance were once discovered, amongst them a canoe with its anchor-the relic of a probably half-civilised and Christian people, compared to whom the invading English were savages of furious wildness. At the top of the keep bide those stuffed owls which some years ago flew about its battlements. The rest of the Castle is merely an antique fortress dwelling-place, much restored in a jumble of styles, but with a general picturesqueness of effect. The alterations which it is now undergoing will doubtless much modify its details, if not its mass.

The station lies in the valley at some little distance from the town; as you follow the road from the rail you have Arundel and the Castle before you, the principal object of the view being the great church of St. Philip Neri, built by the present Duke of Norfolk some years ago at a cost of £100,000. It is still new, inevitably new. That is a fault which time will cure; but in the meanwhile no little disharmony is created between the ancient ruddy colours of the old walls A little higher, and at some distance from of the Castle with its town, and the some- the fortalice of Arundel, is the parish church, what harsh whiteness of the church. Its a venerable fane, some parts of it dating form, too, being upright, is not felicitous in five hundred years back. Old and new are its composition with the lower and longer confused together in the place, a fourteenthlines of antique English masonry. It may century font, some frescoes of approximately not have been the Duke's express purpose, the same date, and other precious antiquities when he built the "house of God," to dwarf being side by side with brilliant windows of his own hereditary home and fortress, as we modern glass and in modern taste, and a once heard a passenger in a railway-train number of energetic "restorations." From passing the place declare; but if that symbolic the tower the Parliamentarians poured shot and ascetic intention was ever entertained, and bullet into the Royalist-guarded ramparts it has been effectually fulfilled. The best of the Castle. The "Fitzalan Chapel," proconsolation which we can offer to the lovers perly the chancel of this church, has been of the past for the intrusion of the modern the subject of a sufficiently celebrated lawGothic church, is that the ruins which they suit. Built in the fourteenth century by an admire were brand-new in the old times Earl of Arundel, it was turned to secular uses which they cherish--strong, sharp, neat, and finished, with no ivy anywhere, and no pleasing uncertainties of outline. As you draw near to the town you see the rich woods which clothe the hillside trending off to the right towards the Black Rabbit, where the winding lines of the lazy Arun pass inland. To the left stretch the fields towards a little place called Ford, and in front climbs the High-street. At the top of the High-street is the Castle, and then the road turns to the left towards this great dominating church of St. Philip.

The donjon is manifestly the most ancient part of the Castle. It dates from Saxon times, and is traditionally believed to have been part of the stronghold as it was in the days of Alfred the Great. It stands on an artificial eminence, and from its ramparts

to uses indeed of the most secular kindat the time of the Reformation and thereafter, and it is now, of course, a monument and no more. As, however, it contains the bones of their fathers, the Dukes of Norfolk have naturally maintained their proprietorship and their interest in the sometime sanctuary, and it was recently shut off from the body of the church by the bricking up of the connecting doorway. The Vicar thereupon committed the legal and formal trespass of removing a brick, in order that the proprietorship of the Fitzalan Chapel might come under the decision of the courts. That decision confirmed the Duke in his rights, therefore the division remains; but the church is complete and ample enough for all purposes as it now stands. The monuments in the Fitzalan Chapel are of great interest and

SUMMER

A Homily for Holiday Readers.

case.

Sorry to disturb your nap, sir," he said, "but this here packing-case is wanted." "Ah-summer service, I suppose," said I, as I got up.

"That's where it is, sir," he replied. Capital rifles in there, sir-kill a lot in the Highlands."

UMMER service of trains: North Wales, | It seemed to me that the whole world was the Lakes, Scotland, the Rhine, Swit- converted into an enormous gridiron of rails zerland,”—such were the tantalising words that radiated in all directions to an indefinite that met my eyes in big type and startling distance. Along them engines puffed and colours, as I sat down wearied and jaded on snorted, trains rattled, signal men frantically a luggage truck, at one of the great London waved flags, and porters staggered under railway stations. I had missed a suburban burdens. But far away, beyond this iron train, by which I had intended to meet a network of toil and hurry and noise, was a business engagement. I had rushed in charmed circle of peace and rest. There breathless and heated, just in time to see the Alpine heights glittered with spires of ice; tail end of my train disappearing from the there again waves rolled in from an infinite platform, and therefore I was not exactly in beyond; there forests waved, and verdant a tranquil or contented frame of mind. I glades opened out in endless perspective. must needs wait for the next train, because And could one but struggle over that grira there was no other way of reaching my desti- iron plain, one would find anywhere on the nation sooner; and as I should still be there far horizon the joy at once of full life and before a telegram was likely to be delivered, rest. "Oh, that I had wings like a dove," I I had to picture my correspondent looking was muttering to myself half asleep, when a at his watch every minute, fretting, fuming, servant man tapped me on the shoulder and and condemning me for an unpunctual fool. politely requested me to get off the packingMeantime, as the railway company, with a wholesome dread of loafers, provided no benches, and the waiting-rooms were stuffy, I was fain to sit on a truck till I was gruffly disturbed by a perspiring and overdone porter. "Summer service,” I said to myself, “just so;'all things are full of labour, man cannot utter it.' The summer play of the privileged is the summer slavery of the many." The fact that my own business is twice as active in summer as in winter gave me towards the bustling porters that "fellow-feeling" which makes us wondrous kind," and, notwithstanding my inwardly simmering vexation, I am happy to say that my gruff friend, who unceremoniously disturbed me from my truck, met with only an apology for my being in the way. "Summer service' seems to take it out of you rather," I said. "Right you are," he replied, evidently mollified. Then taking off his cap and mopping his forehead with a very dirty handkerchief, he added, "gentlefolkses' play-time is sweatin' time for us," and with that he ran off with the truck at the double, in response to a violently gesticulating and hoarsely bawling officer down the platform. I then sought a restingplace on a packing-case, about which no one seemed in a hurry, and contemplated once more the placards with their mocking announcements of "Summer service." But as my blood became quieter I grew drowsy, and amidst the clatter and flutter and bustle I nodded, and started again, in the borderand between sleeping and waking.

"But surely not cartridges!" I exclaimed, as I stepped farther off.

Oh, don't you be afeard, sir; we shoots deer, not men-leastways in England or Scotland."

And with this enigmatical utterance he followed the packing-case.

It

"Leastways in England or Scotland!" I repeated mentally. "Perhaps then his master is an officer who has been potting Zulus or Afghans. And this summer service is to go and kill something in Scotland. is a very extraordinary thing that we cannot manage to get any pleasure without making others pay for it with their pain. And yet it is still more wonderful what a deal of goodhumour goes with it all. Here are these porters toiling and drudging to provide wings. for those who would flee away over the iron plain to the happy lands of my dream, and fagged out as they are, what a deal of civility a shilling will buy-ay, or for the matter of that, a kindly word! Perhaps the world is not such a mistake after all. I I suppose most of these pleasure-seekers have had their turn of service, and without service what priceless virtues would be lost to mankind! Good

humour! good-humour! it is the precious oil that smooths summer service and winter service and service all the year round. But a sharp discord struck my ear.

"I told you so! I knew how it would be!" exclaimed a female voice. I turned and saw clearly that it was-as indeed might have been anticipated-a wife addressing her husband. She was a weary-looking woman who seemed to have gone through a long process of "fretting herself to fiddlestrings," by a gratuitous habit of what is called 66 worriting." The husband was also thin and eager-looking, but I imagined at a glance that his humour, if there were any, must be of an acrid kind. Half their family, two little boys and a girl, were with them, and were clamouring to know which was the train, was that their engine, how soon would they start, and so on. The cause of discord seemed to be that another half of the family was missing, supposed to be perambulating the streets aimlessly, in a cab driven by a drunken driver. "I told you so-I knew the man was drunk, and you wouldn't keep him in sight," said the worrying wife.

But scenes shift rapidly at a railway station, and before I had time to moralise farther, the cantankerous family had disappeared in the crowd and their place had been taken by a very different group. My gruff friend, the porter, wheeled his truck directly towards me, laden high with family luggage, and his "by your leave, sir," had a tone of friendliness. about it, very confirmatory of the sacred proverb about the effect of a soft answer. He was followed by a father with an infant on one arm and a little girl clinging to the other, while the mother close at hand marshalled three little boys, each of whom carried a boat, evidently more precious in the bearer's eyes than all the rest of the family luggage. There was something about this group that attracted me. Both father and mother, notwithstanding their five children, and some manifest wear and tear of life, still had, in brightness of eye and transparency of feeling. somewhat of the freshness of youth about them. Both patience and good-humour beamed in the man's honest Saxon face; and if the mother, a small, dark, pretty woman, showed, in the sparkle of her eyes, more trace "You have a marvellous power of predict- of southern fire, it struck me that loving trust ing after the event," retorted her spouse. "I in her strong husband had given her the wanted to come in the other cab, but you habitual peace that comes only of quietness would not have it." and confidence. The truck halted just where I had been standing, and the porter went off for luggage labels.

"I should think not! And be left alone with the luggage! Hold your tongues, you troublesome children! Do you want to start without your sister and baby and nurse?"

"Well, well," said the husband, "you had your own way; the result is we shall miss the train."

"What's the use of standing here?" pursued the wife ; “ perhaps you would like me to go out amongst the crowd and look for them."

No, I know you too well for that; you insist upon making all arrangements yourself and throwing the trouble of their failure on me."

Summer service! thought I; if it was all like this, the world would be too hot to live in. Just then a girl of twelve ran up-"O pa! here you are the cabman says his fare is five shillings, and we got stuck fast in a block, and he drove through a lot of side streets, and I thought we should never find you." "O missis!" exclaimed a breathless baby-laden nurse, "it give me such a turn when we lost you, but baby were that good, so he were, a pretty dear!" If that baby remains good, in the sense of goodhumoured, I said to myself, then heredity is a delusion.

"What time shall we reach Llandudno, Will? Did you say five o'clock ?" asked the wife.

Five-thirty-summer service permitting," replied Will; "say six-thirty."

"Then look here: I will open that box and get out a little shawl for baby; it is just at the top. We shall perhaps have a cool breeze from the sea."

So saying, she fumbled for her keys, but there were no keys forthcoming. She tried another pocket in vain. With a faint hope that they might have eluded her she returned to the former pocket again, and with her hand deep therein she directed a look of mute appeal at her husband, whose response echoed her dismay.

Oh, come, I say, Em, you haven't forgotten your keys?

"I have though, Will; how stupid of me! There now, it's no use of you pretending to look cross. I can see you are laughing behind your eyes. I believe you've got them all the time."

"No, on honour, Em, I haven't indeed. Last thing I saw of them was when you were going to lock the sideboard.”