1825.] Case. The Legislature having thus adopted a proceeding, which must eventually prove a great though partial relief in the cases under our consideration, surely this proceeding might be improved, by extending their aid to all cases whatever, that on the mature deliberation of the cominission in each diocese, shall be presented as meriting their attention and assistance. Were some effective plan of this kind adopted, the just complaints of the beneficed Clergy would soon be removed, and the relief obtained without calling forth those hostile feelings, which are the natural fruits of litigation; and by the same scheme those frivolous complaints which are sometimes brought into our Courts with more zeal than judgment, affording too much ground for the taunts and sarcasms of the enemies of the Establishment, would meet with due consideration, and be prudently kept from public notice. PACIFICUS. GOODWIN'S GUILE; OR, THE NUNS OF BERKLEY. Tradition that the Nunnery of PART I. Near where fierce Severn darts her flood Thro' Berkley's wide domain, No guilty warmths, no worldly cares, By sacred vows secur'd. No fears alarm the breast; That bosom which no wish conceals, 'Gainst which no passions strive! Within his ardent breast; Or sooth them into rest. With craft and malice fraught. A And not to love in vain. In wanton ringlets flow'd, With speaking blushes glow'd. "Your manners, looks, I've notic'd I've mark'd your polish'd air, "Thanks, 514 Goodwin's Guile; or, the Nuns of Berkley. Relief I ask,-O grant the boon, "Ah, no! far other blissful scenes, Be given, and let us find the means, Olet us thither go." He ceas'd, and, lo! they musing stray'd Together 'long the road, Till not far distant they survey'd The pious, blest abode. Earl Goodwin now renews his speech: "Behold yon tower," quoth he, "Spotless the saints within, yet each Must yield her charms to thee. "Let us put off our trim array, And don these pilgrim weeds, Then quickly thither wind our way Across the flowery meads." [Dec. Elville, soft-smiling, bows assent, Too soon they reach the Nunnery wall, Proclaim the midnight hour, Hark! where yon darkening ivy twines, Bursts the soul-rending groan,Lo! there the pensive youth reclines, Under his head a stone. He groans, he pines, complains, and For thus Earl Goodwin bade; [sighs, Despondence seems to cloud his eyes, And every beauty fade. Soft Pity hears,-ah! sad to tell, These wails disturb her rest,And, ah! too soon she leaves her cell To succour the distrest. The Abbess opes the wicket-grate; Lady, your heart may haply bleed, And wilt thou then some comfort give Alas! he's dead and gone!" "Ye Pow'rs!" and bent her knee. The Nuns awaken'd, caught th'alarm, And trembling tow'rds them sped, Meanwhile their gentle matron's arm Supports his drooping head. While Sympathy, meek child of Grief, With bosom prone to melt, Stretch'd out her hand to give relief To pangs-she only felt. The youth, not cold, nor lifeless yet, They lead with cautious tread; And place him, still in feigned fit, Upon their smoothest bed. Nor Nor cease they here their tender cares, When thus the Earl again address'd The heavenly pensive fair: "Turn, gentle Abbess, lady blest, And hear my suppliant prayer. "O see, where yet the pallid hue Dwells on my brother's cheek, And tho' the morn breaks fair to view, The air is cold and bleak. "Sure then to move him were unfit, Who still in anguish lies, Scarce from his trance recover'd yet, And languid still his eyes. "But, ah! my vow now drags me And I must quick away; Then let me crave without offence, That he may longer stay. [hence, "And ere yon glorious rising Sun Thrice sinks into the main, And thrice his daily course has run, Will I return again." Sweet is the breath of peaceful eve, And sweet the vernal show'r, Far sweeter yet relief to give, And balmy comfort pour. Soon as Earl Goodwin ceas'd to speak, The Abbess thus replied: "So long as he continues weak, We'll grant him here t'abide." In accent soft as honied dew, Her words pervade his ear, "And none," he cries, "so kind as you, To us no friend so dear. "May Heaven reward this virtuous Farewell! too long I stay." [deed, And o'er the daisy-painted mead He lightly speeds his way. PART II. Yet now the sequel to pursue 515 His looks, his words, and manners please; They gaze, and think no harm. Deceiver vile! who could with ease Thus captivate and charm! How fruitless faith and virtue prove! And, ah! how weak their charms, When all the luxury of love The heart to rapture warms. Thro' each soft breast that magic flies, Whence all their sorrows flow; The chastest Nun, alas! complies, And vain is every vow. Now when two months were past and With barbarous, base intent. His voice the Abbess hears ;"Ah! sure the pilgrim's come again!" The pilgrim straight appears. "And is my gentle Elville here? O Lady, tell me truth,O tell me,-lives my brother dear, That lov'd but long-lost youth?" "He lives, he lives!" the Abbess cries, And she no more could say, Ere swift as feather'd arrow flies, Came Elville brisk and gay. The youth, beneath the pilgrim hood, Discern'd Earl Goodwin's face, In feign'd surprise awhile he stood, Then rush'd to his embrace. The Nuns meantime with anxious care Produce an ample hoard, Tho' costly cates and viands rare Deck not their modest board. But what kind Nature's bounty gave, Their willing hands supply, Whose pitying hearts to those who Relief could ne'er deny. [crave, "Come, sit ye down, ye friends sincere, Our humble store divide." "Thanks, lady, thanks, for this good The wicked Earl replied. [cheer," And then amid the Nuns so mild, With Elville down he sat, And the dim shades of eve beguil'd In laugh and social chat. 'Tis now the vesper hour of prayer, And deeply tolls the bell,With sudden start the recreant pair and bid farewell up, Rise "Full 516 Goodwin's Guile; or, the Nuns of Berkley. "Full sore we grieve to part so soon, Yet dare not longer stay; On cruel mischief bent, [staff, And when they came unto the King, The other half be mine. "Methinks I hear the solemn choir Their awful anthem raise,- To waft to Heav'n their praise. "Nor difficult the task, I ween, These flagrant facts to prove The King's commands, tho' fraught While tears fast trickling flow; She ceas'd to speak,-and lo! a sigh And yet that suit be vain? [Dec. "Yet, yet awhile dispel that gloom Of sorrow (Edward cried); saw, "Revoke the doom! (cried he), Shall Mercy thus controul the law? Ye Heavens! it must not be. "I dare assert my rightful claim,— Then give me all that's mine; Restore what else were thine. [blame, prest, By truth that doubt t' explain.” And sooth'd the sorrowing fair. "Take, Earl, one half their forfeit But, ah! those walls where guile and Have mark'd a conscious stain, [lust The gentle Abbess bow'd her head, Yet nought avail'd the haughty Peer, Fate rear'd the scourge, and Heav'n's Forbade that scourge to spare; Mr. URBAN, Exeter, Dec. 5. OUR intelligent Correspondent COLONEL MACDONALD has endeavoured to found an hypothesis, that "the Globe we inhabit is hollow," from the passage in the second verse of the first chapter in Genesis."The earth was without form and void." May we not, however, be per 1825.] On the Term ' Void'.-William the First. mitted to doubt whether this inference can be fairly drawn from these words; first, by recollecting that the rotundity of the earth was not a truth known at the time when Moses wrote the History of the Creation; and, secondly, because the term "void" appears to have a reference to the external state of the earth, before vegetation and animated Nature began to clothe, adorn, and enliven its surface, and thus to fill up the chaotic void which had been previously described. unoccu If the definition of this word by Dr. Johnson, as meaning pied," or "unsupplied," is correct; the term will equally apply to the surface as to the interior of our Globe; independent of the circumstance before alluded to, that Moses was unacquainted with the globular figure of the earth he was then describing. Of what materials, a diameter of eight thousand miles is composed, no human being can form the least comprehension! and, as respects the "Heavens above, and the Earth beneath," the penetration of weak mortals is indeed but very limited! EXONIENSIS. I BEG to acknowledge the satisfactory reply of Mr. Duke, in p. 223, in answer to my letter in p. 103, wherein the facts I maintain are fully elucidated and established, that England was not conquered by William I. and consequently that the appellation of "Conqueror" is misapplied. Of the victory acquired over the forces of the undaunted Harold, there cannot remain a shadow of doubt, for the reasons so opportunely adduced and brought to bear upon this subject by Mr. Duke; yet, notwithstanding this victory, William could have little hopes of gaining the throne by right of " conquest;" he therefore pretended that he came to revenge the death of Prince Alfred, brother to King Edward; to restore Robert Archbishop of Canterbury to his see: and to obtain the crown as his right, on account of its being bequeathed to him by Edward, the Confessor. He cannot, therefore, says the Rev. Mr. Cooper, be properly said to have obtained the crown by "conquest," since these motives engaged many of the English in his favour. See the Introduction Cooper's England, pp. 11, 12. 517 And as some satisfaction for the apparent disgrace of the "Battle of Hastings," I request to engage the attention of your readers to Mr. Andrewes' opinion in his "History of Grert Britain." "While we lament the fate of the galdisciplined soldiers, we must not forget that, lant usurper Harold, and his brave, but unby this rough medicine, England was purged of a detestable Aristocracy, composed of noblemen too powerful for the King to restrain within the limits of decent obedience, and always ready to employ that power against their country, when interest, ambition, or cowardice, prompted them. This consideration (joined to that of the vast additional weight which England gained in the European scale, by the Norman discipline being joined to the native valour of the disgrace at Hastings, especially when we Islanders) affords ample consolation for the recollect, that the Saxon race remounted the English throne at the end of only four reigns." Another fact confirms what I have advanced. I quote from Spencer's English Traveller, fol. 1773, p. 361. "At the Norman Conquest this town (Berkhamstead, commonly called Great Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire, made a considerable figure; for the Conqueror having passed the Thames at Wallingford, marched towards this place; but Frederick, the Abbot of St. Alban's, employed a great number of men to cut down the trees in the neighbouring woods, in order to obstruct his passage, and before he could proceed any further, the lords and other great men of the realm came in a body, and demanded from William a confirmation of their antient laws. The Conqueror, being intimidated, swore on the Gospels, to maintain inviolate the laws of Edward the Confessor, upon which they submitted quietly to his government.” It is related of William, that upon the death of "Edward the Confessor," he sent to demand the Crown, and made a descent soon after upon the Sussex coast, at Pevensey bay, and proceeding thence with a powerful army to Hastings, there built a stroug fort. Qu. Could this have been the one now in ruins, and as we are not given the slightest information by history upon this subject, conjectures have been busy, in supriod that Arviragus threw off the yoke of posing it to have been coeval with the pethe Romans. It seems not a little extraordinary, that the present spirited investigation, commenced under the auspices of the "Earl of Chichester," should not have established some discoveries upon a surer basis than mere conjecture. On |