are arranged bearing the emblazoned coats of arms of the house of Howard and its several alliances; below the pictures hang heavy red plush draperies, suspended from an oak moulding; the ceiling is of oak, and over the wide, open fireplace are the Howard arms surmounted by a ducal coronet. On the right of this fireplace is a full-length portrait of Thomas, fourth Duke of Norfolk, standing with his Earl-Marshal's bâton in his hand. His devotion in behalf of the unhappy Mary Stuart caused him to be accused of high treason, and he was executed in the Tower in 1572, at the early age of thirty-five. His His

of the son of Philip Howard and his wife. The former is represented in a sitting position, and one sees in the distance part of the famous collection called the Arundel Marbles, the greater part of which are now at Oxford. This nobleman was a great patron of art, and he it was who induced Van Dyck to come to England. At the splendid ceremonial of the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth with Frederick, Count Palatine of the Rhine, in 1613, he carried the sword of state, while his wife, the Countess of Arundel, acted as one of the train-bearers to the queen. In consequence of his father's attainder, he was

deprived of the title of Duke of Norfolk, but was invariably called "the great Earl." Sir Edward Walker, in describing him, says that he "was of a stately presence and gait, so that any man that saw him, though in never so ordinary habit, could not but conclude him to be a great person, his garb and fashion drawing more observation than did the rich apparel of others; so that it was a common saying of the late Earl of Carlisle'Here comes the Earl of Arundel in his plain stuff and trunk hose, and his beard in his teeth, that looks more like a nobleman than any of us.'" An indelible stain rests upon

the character of this Earl, who from no religious convictions, but in return for worldly advancement, renounced the faith for which his father, Philip Howard, nobly suffered and courageously died. One would have thought that an example as brilliant and touching as that of any of the martyrs of old, might at least have lasted in its effects through one generation; and one can scarcely believe that the son of a father who had borne so much, could relinquish the belief which supported that father to the end. Yet this man became one of the principal favourites of King James I., and by his abdication of Catholicism was enabled to enjoy the dignities and privileges denied

in those days to Roman Catholics. Later, in the reign of Charles I., he incurred the severe displeasure of his sovereign, in that his son, Lord Maltravers, had secretly wedded, the Lady Elizabeth Stuart, whom the King had destined as a bride for young Lord Lorne. Arundel was promptly sent to the Tower, where he was kept during three months, and was only finally released by the clamourings of his brother peers, who declared the arrest of the Earl during the Session to be an infringement of their privileges.

We would fain linger longer in the diningroom, where hang many other portraits, and in the long gallery with its pictures and statues and rare old cabinets, but we must

take a glimpse at least at the grand library, one hundred feet long, built in 1544. To reach it you pass through an attractive apartment called the ante-room, opening out from the hall. This library is indeed worthy the name grand. Well-filled book-shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, and a gallery runs around three sides of the room, half-way up, which is reached by a concealed staircase. Wide alcoves in the windows of the gallery form cosy retreats where one can read, or chat, or dream day-dreams. Three fireplaces are at distances on the right-hand side of the room, while the large stained-glass window on the left, glowing with heraldic devices, looks out upon the open quadrangle of the castle. At the end of this library, opening from it, is the billiard-room, beyond which again are the north breakfast-room and a second large drawing-room. To these two apartments we shall return later, but for the moment we turn to the right, and leaving the billiard-room mount a solid oak staircase which leads to the upper floor, and to that part of the building called the "Percy Lodgings," a name given so far back as 1279, in the reign of Edward I. It is here that the late duchess's sitting-room, dressingroom, and bed-room are situated; but attractive as are all three, filled as they are with beautiful old inlaid and painted furniture, curious hangings, and quaint cabinets and curiosities, we must hasten on, if in the limited space of time allowed us we would see a little more of the house itself before coming to the portrait of Philip Howard the Martyr, and learning his sad and noble life. From these private apartments a long passage way on the north side of the castle leads to the principal upper corridor, and along this passage way, opening out upon it, are numerous bed-rooms, which go by the name of the "Hutches." The doors of these rooms are all of oak, with the iron hinges extending across them and forming the ornamentation. We cannot stop now to describe any of the upper rooms, so fascinating is the history of the man represented with grave, earnest eyes, and a serious, rather melancholy, cast of countenance. The portrait given of Philip Howard is only a small head, with a stiff ruff of the dress of the period coming high around the throat.

He was, as we have already said, son of that Duke of Norfolk who in 1572 was beheaded in the Tower on account of his loyalty to the cause of the Scottish queen, and he was born at Arundel House on Monday, June 28th, 1557. The following Friday he was baptized with much solemnity in the

Royal Chapel of Whitehall, in the presence of the queen and her Spanish husband, with all the principal attendants of the Court. His great-grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, held him at the font made of gold, and kept in the treasury only for the christening of children of princes of the realm. King Philip himself, who with the Earl of Arundel acted as sponsor on the occasion, conferred his own name upon the infant. Whilst still very young, Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey, was married to his father's ward, Anne, daughter of Lord Dacres, who, together with her two sisters, was co-heiress to an immense property. Later he became one of Elizabeth's most devoted and flattering courtiers, and to please this queen he first neglected and then disowned his wife. During several years he now pursued a course of insane prodigality, which reduced his fortune and alienated his family, when suddenly he seemed to awake as from delirium, withdrew entirely from the frivolities of the Court and the society of his profligate companions, at the same time trying in every way to atone to his wife for his former cruel neglect. Elizabeth's enmity to the countess was notorious, and this lady's decision to enter the Roman Catholic Church irritated the queen still further against her and the husband who had returned to his allegiance to her. Elizabeth finally imprisoned the countess for over a year, and after his wife's release Philip Howard, who with his brother Lord William had decided also to join the ancient faith, determined to leave the country until more quiet times, and to seek an asylum in Flanders. In pursuance of this plan, Momford, the Earl's secretary, was despatched to Hull, with orders to embark at that port and await the arrival of his master. Arundel himself, with his brother and a single attendant, was preparing to commence his journey by a different route; everything was ready for his departure, and the moment for it approaching, when a message from Elizabeth announced that she was about to honour him with a visit at Arundel House. At the same time Momford was arrested on suspicion of some traitorous design, but managed to escape and return in order to tell his master of the dangers surrounding him. It was too late however for his information to be of any practical use to the Earl, as he was obliged to receive his sovereign, which he did with great magnificence. At the conclusion of a sumptuous banquet the queen, having declared her satisfaction, gave Arundel "many thanks for her entertainment," and at the кк 2

same time informed him that he was a prisoner in his own house. The next morning he was summoned before the Privy Council, and after two separate examinations on the subject of his religion was again remanded to confinement. An effort was also made to implicate him in a recent conspiracy, which however signally failed, and at the end of fifteen weeks the Earl, as well as his uncle and brother, who had likewise been arrested, was discharged.

Any attempt to leave the country was now hopeless, but sending for a missionary he was by him received into the Catholic Church. This involved him in new difficulties; his duties at Court conflicting at every turn with his principles and conscience. Finding that his efforts to avoid these duties so opposed to his present views only provoked the attention and whispers of the Court, he again formed the desperate resolve to fly from the country. Before his departure he determined to acquaint Elizabeth with his motives for this decision, and addressed to her a long and eloquent epistle, in which he reminded her of the anxiety with which he had sought her confidence and the willingness with which he had "made himself a stranger to his own house, to be a continual waiter on her majesty "-all of which had failed to insure her favour, or prevent him from incurring unmerited disgrace. He also spoke of the fate of his immediate ancestors, whose innocence had been unable to shield them from the death of traitors; and reasoning from this example he dwelt with powerful effect upon the apprehensions which he entertained from the operation of the penal laws. His religion, he added, could not long remain a secret, and if he, rather than "consent to the certain destruction of his body, or the manifest endangering of his soul, willingly separated himself from all the ties which bound him to his native land, he trusted that Elizabeth would at least give him credit for having acted on conscientious motives, and would not visit his conduct with that displeasure which would add bitterness even to the worst of his sorrows, and amongst all his misfortunes prove the heaviest."

This letter was to be placed in the hands of the queen after Arundel's departure for France, but that departure was destined never to be made. The captain of the vessel waiting at Little Hampton in Sussex had received his instructions from the council, and instead of escaping from the country Philip Howard was brought back a prisoner and sent to the Tower.

Again efforts were made to implicate him

in treasonable practices, and again these efforts signally failed, notwithstanding which he was condemned to pay a fine of £10,000 to the queen, and to be imprisoned according to the royal pleasure. During this imprisonment fresh charges were brought by the persistent malice of his enemies against the unfortunate Earl of Arundel, until he was finally brought to trial and sentenced to death. After his condemnation he wrote a spirited letter to Elizabeth in which he boldly asserted his innocence, and arraigned the justice of his sentence, added to which he prepared numerous copies of a statement to be scattered among the crowd at the time of his execution, wherein this most emphatic declaration occurs :-" Wherefore, for the satisfaction of all men and discharge of my conscience before God, I here protest before His Divine Majesty and all the holy court of Heaven, that I have committed no treason, and that the Catholic and Roman faith which I hold is the only cause (so far as I can any way imagine) why either I have been thus long imprisoned, or for which I am now ready to be executed."

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Public opinion and indignation over the unmerited destiny of Philip Howard was so strong that Elizabeth was compelled to pause in the pursuance of her vengeance against the man she hated, but although for political reasons she concluded to avoid the odium of bringing him to the scaffold, her feminine malice took a frightful form of fresh persecution.

Instead of acquainting the prisoner of his reprieve from death, the knowledge of it was studiously kept from him, and for more than six years he lived in the fear and suspense that each footstep he heard might be that of the messenger sent to summon him to his end. Each morning as he rose he knew it to be possible that before night he should be a headless corpse; each night as he laid his head upon his pillow he was uncertain whether the morning might not call him to another world. Such was what a Court writer could denominate "the mild severity of Elizabeth!"

Added to this dreadful and wearing uncertainty as to his final fate, every expedient was resorted to in order to render his desolate condition more desolate still. His wife, children, and friends, were totally excluded from his presence, and the treatment received by him from his keepers was disgraceful to humanity. It was generally supposed that eventually he was poisoned, but whether from anything in his food or from the effects of a bad drain passing under the room where he was confined for eleven years in all, has never