Wandering through the ancient and venerable Halls, consecrated by time, the mind associates with every solemn nook some memorable passage of its eventful history. Ages have wrought comparatively little change in its external and internal aspect. There are no indications of ruin, and few even of neglect, in this famous baronial castle. The fancy is scarcely taxed to behold again, seated on the dais, its powerful lords--mirrors of chivalry: we seem almost to hear the minstrels recite the praises of descendants of the royal Dane, who fought and conquered by the side of the Conqueror; we behold his successors, in one unbroken line for centuries, surrounded by their vassals, holding regal sway; we tread the very steps which a deposed and death-doomed monarch trod in grievous captivity; and although we shudder at entering the dark chamber in which he was so foully murdered, we feel pity for, rather than anger towards, that “Lord of Berkeley” who was certainly guiltless of the deed, and whose weapon would have forced aside the hands of remorseless butchers. Berkeley Castle is a fine study for the antiquary; a full page for the historian: it illustrates with singular force the customs of our ancestors; exhibits their state of perpetual “watch and ward;” the frowning Keep speaks audibly; and every winding staircase and chamber, small or large, is fertile of story. The neighbourhood, too, retains much of its primitive character. One may imagine the peasants and farmers, whose quaint homesteads environ the strong castle--the dependants and retainers of four centuries ago. So few of these “old places” have been preserved to our time, “unimproved” by modern “taste,” that a visit to Berkeley is like a refreshing draught of pure water in an arid plain, to those who mourn over removals of the ancient landmarks of their ancestors. “In surveying Berkeley Castle,”--we quote the fine apostrophe of Dallaway--“this proud monument of feudal splendour and magnificence, the very genius of chivalry seems to present himself amidst the venerable remains, with a sternness and majesty of air and feature which shew what he once has been, and a mixture of disdain for the degenerate posterity that robbed him of his honours. Amidst such a scene the manly exercises of knighthood recur to the imagination in their full pomp and solemnity; while every patriot feeling beats at the remembrance of the generous virtues which were nursed in those schools of fortitude, honour, courtesy, and wit--the mansions of our ancient nobility!” [Illustration: Drawn by F. W. Hulme. on Stone by W. Walton. M. & N. Hanhart, Lithogʳˢ BRAMSHILL, HAMPSHIRE] BRAMSHILL HOUSE, HAMPSHIRE.