COWLING CHURCH AND CASTLE.

Oldcastle. As in most of the churches in this neighbourhood, we have here a Piscina, nigh to which are three elegant graduated stone seats, finished with rich canopies in the pointed style.

Cowling is now but a short distance onwards, merely the extent of a few corn-fields, and

already the tower of its church is within sight. Should our inclination guide us thither, we shall find therein the same architectural characteristics which mostly distinguish the religious edifices of this portion of Kent. Here is a double Piscina with credence above, and, in the centre aisle, a brass memorial to Ffeth Brook, daughter of one of the Lords of Cobham. But

already fronting us we have the heavy

stone gateway of Cowling Castle, looking almost as perfect as when first erected, although now nigh unto five centuries old.

'Tis no use thy peering there-thine eyes must be keen indeed to enable thee to decipher the engravement upon yonder brazen scroll, which carries the Cobham Arms as an appendant seal, fixed high up on the easternmost tower. Let us repeat it over:

COWLING CASTLE-PAST AND PRESENT HISTORY.

Kuweth that beth and shall be

That I am made in helpe of the contre

In knowinge of whiche thinge

This is chartre and witnessing.

This was the act of John de Cobham, its first founder, who thus sought to divert any suspicions the king might entertain of his real motives for fortifying his ordinary dwelling, as an ordinance had just been passed, forbidding the erection of strongholds by the unruly nobility. Had we time, we might tarry hereabouts and discourse to you how that this self-same noble was shortly afterwards condemned to death for treason, but which sentence was changed to banishment for life; how that his successor, Sir John Oldcastle, sought security here from the vindictiveness of his enemies, the prelates, and here dared brave them, but who was at last hunted out and led to trial, and thence to a cruel, horrid death; how that the son of the poet Wyatt was here repulsed by his own kinsman, when he first started on his fatal insurrection. All this, good reader, shall be hereafter told to thee, presuming that thou wilt vouchsafe us thy company in our next excursion to the princely hall and park of Cobham, with which locality the histories of these men are the more closely linked. Yet even now, in preparation for our discourse, note thou every nook and corner of this grey ruin-its broken breast-works and battlements; its corner towers and crumbling walls, bound yet together by tendrils of creeping ivy; its broad, deep moat, now partially closed up: and as thine eye roameth over its inner court contrast its present smiling appearance-smiling even amidst the wreck and ruin by which we are surrounded, that not the gay parterres of glittering flowers bedecking its close shaven lawn, nor its smooth gravelled pathways planted adown with rows of leafy evergreens, can hope to hide; contrast this scene, made still more calm and beautiful by that glorious burst of evening sunshine, one ray of which is just now stealing aslant of yonder grey-grown tower, with such as thy imagination shall conjure up of bygone times, when all here was but the rude riot of armed men-the riotous battle, and its not less noisy preparations—or else a scene of boisterous triumph, loud feastings and festivity. But turn thee hence, 'tis time we thought

on our return :

"The sun's o'ercast with blood-Fair day, adieu!"

"The stately homes of England, how beautiful they stand,
Amidst their tall ancestral trees, o'er all the pleasant land."-MRS. HEMANS.

OBHAM has ever been a favourite haunt of ours, and many a long summer's day have we beguiled with visits to its pleasant neighbourhood. First would we seek the village church, which skirts the wayside on a gently rising ground, nigh to tall trees and rich pasture lands, where the spare hour was well spent in examination of its famed sepulchral monuments till the eleven o'clock chime signalled forth that we then might gain admission to the Hall a quaintly shapen building of the olden time-when, after having once again conned over and criticised its pictorial contents, we made away in search of the sylvan beauties of its "stag haunted" park, sheltering ourselves amidst its sequestered leafy passages, or leisurely wandering through open meads of rolling ground, until the

"Good things of day began to droop and drowze."

MODE OF ADMISSION TO THE HALL.

Reader, that thou mayst join admiration with us of this pleasant place, we ask thee, some fine morning, to put thyself beneath our guidance, when we will make the excursion thither in company. If London is our starting point, our course will be to take the early Gravesend boat. We have chosen Friday, and it happeneth well, for, of all the week, FRIDAY is the only day that admittance to the Hall can be obtained, and then by ticket alone, between the hours of eleven and four. [Mr. Caddell, bookseller, of Gravesend,* whose house fronts the new church in the Milton road, is the party entrusted with the sale. The charge of one shilling is levied for each card of admission, and this obviates all necessity for gratuities to the servants, which, by printed notice, are strictly prohibited. The money arising from this sale is applied to charitable uses. In the whole of these arrangements the Countess of Darnley has set a commendable example, and one which we pray our nobility may often be induced to follow. Let no one undertake the journey, imagining that a long purse will serve the purpose of the official ticket; it will avail him nothing, for we ourselves have tried the experiment and met with refusal.] Our card of admission procured, the next course will be to settle the method of conveyance, for the sun is too strong, and time too precious, for us to tramp it thither on foot. Suppose, then, that we mount outside one of the Rochester omnibuses, which start from the different piers a few minutes after the arrival of almost every boat; the driver will set us down at the corner of a turning on our right hand, from whence it is but a pleasant walk to our destination.

A royal charter in the reign of Elizabeth incorporated the two villages of Gravesend and Milton. Bricks and mortar in the present day have made this amalgamation complete; building follows building, diverging from stiff terraces and smart villas down to

"The meanest country cottages;"

the exact point of division being hardly known, we should say, unless preserved in the records of the corporation.

Milton church has just been passed on our left hand, and were we on foot we should have found nothing therein to arrest our attention. A scrap of poetry on a grave-stone in the churchyard,

Should the reader make the excursion from Rochester, Mr. Wildash, bookseller, is the appointed agent there for the sale of tickets.

THE JOURNEY TO COBHAM-CHALK CHURCH.

raised in memory of a beautiful young girl, may be here preserved,

"A creature of light was just spared from the skies,

To try on the robes that to mortals are given;

But her delicate spirit endured not disguise,

Recoiled, as clay touched it, and flew back to Heaven."

Onwards we speed, along a road that divides meadows, cornfields, orchards, and hop-gardens. Adjoining the farm buildings on our left, almost hidden by a high wall and a heap of clustering foliage, a few scraps of ruin mark the site of Denton church, demolished early in the last century. These scattered cottages by the wayside form the little village of Chalk, and forwards, between the trees, its grey church tower may be discerned. Had we the opportunity, a few minutes might be given to its examination. The building is very ancient, and contains several curious memorials in stone and brass. Above the arched doorway are two grotesque figures; one, a jovial toper, holding with both hands a stoup of liquor, and looking up to his companion, who seems to be either a clown or a posture-master, with his head thrust between his legs. Various conjectures are afloat as to the meaning of this ludicrous group. That most likely to be correct, supposes it to have been placed here in commemoration of a "give ale," bequeathed by one William May, nigh three hundred years since, for the benefit of his soul, as he has it. He directs that there be made yearly, an obit, "in bread, six bushels of wheat; and in drink, ten bushels of malt; and in cheese, twenty pence; to give to the poor people, for the health of his soul for evermore."

Now we pass the verdant marshes, skirting the bend of the river, called the Hope, and obtain a good view of the Essex coast;— there stand the little churches of East and West Tilbury, rising before the grey background formed by the Langdon hills. The wind from the Thames, at this point, may be enjoyed as a good imitation of a mild sea breeze. On our other hand, the windmill, seen at the top of yonder hill, marks the locality of Shorne,―a pleasant hamlet to be visited on our return. Here is the half-way house between Gravesend and Rochester; and a short distance beyond, the omnibus sets us down to pursue our way on foot.

The vehicle rattles along on its course, and here we stand, good reader, at the foot of the lane which the driver was just