THE DESTRUCTIVES IN 1643. HENRY MORE AND JOSEPH BEAUMONT. › Even such the contrast that, where'er we move, And the Land's humblest comforts. Now her mood Of headstrong will! Can this be Piety? THE Destructives in 1643 were only more mischievous than the Destructives of 1836, because they possessed a wider influence, and a more carefully organized plan of sedition. The Monster had a Head as well as a Tail. In adjusting the balance of the comparison, the larger share of sincerity and independent honesty is due to the revolutionists of 43. Their patriotism, however painfully misdirected, was not altogether a fiction; the * Wordsworth's Ecclesiastical Sketches. political features of the Confederacy, though swollen with evil passions, and burning with the intoxication of ambitious intemperance, were redeemed and humanized by traces of gentler expression. Agitation was not reduced into a profession; even Ireland did not array her Mendicants in purple. Amid all the ferocity of invective, all the malignity of hatred, all the intolerance of legislation, indications of better and wiser feelings were to be discovered. I speak now of the more eminent leaders of the Party. The Destructives of 1643 found an advocate in-Milton; the Destructives of 1836 in -Roebuck! Into that afflicting portion of our history it is unnecessary to return. Its annals are a household story, in the memory of every one. The storm had long been gathering; the lightning tarried only for a conductor. It found one in Cromwell, a man whose character has defied the acutest observers, and in whom hypocrisy wears the aspect of truth. His connexion with Cambridge is not the least singular passage of his biography. He was entered of Sidney, according to a memorandum in the College Register, on the 23rd of April, 1616; and some memorials of him yet remain. His bust, executed by Bernini, from a plastercast taken after death, is in the Master's Lodge, having been brought from Italy by Professor Martyn; and the celebrated portrait drawn in crayons by Cooper, hangs in the Library, displaying in every feature the deep penetration, undaunted vigour, and self-confidence of its original. In the garden formerly stood a pear-tree, said to have been planted by Cromwell. It was cut down in March, 1833. His illustrious Latin Secretary has been more fortunate. The mulberry-tree, planted by the youthful student of Christ's, still flourishes in the pleasant garden of the college. Some years ago it suffered considerably from a violent gale of wind, which sadly shattered it; but its aged boughs are now carefully propped up, and its trunk protected by a partial covering of lead. With these aids it promises to look green for many years to come; its fertility appears to have undergone no change; in the Summer it is laden with fruit, of which more than two bushels of the finest flavour were gathered in the last season. Many interesting anecdotes are told of the homage paid to this venerable tree. I was amused by the ardour of a visiter from America, who, as he approached it, raised his hat from his head with expressions of unfeigned admiration. Enthusiasm only becomes ridiculous when excited by an unworthy object. In America, indeed, the author of Paradise Lost is regarded with even deeper veneration than by ourselves. The smallest fragments from his mulberry-tree are religiously cherished; and, within the last few weeks, a slip has been sent to one of the most remote situations of that mighty continent. May it take root and flourish, until the goodly boughs thereof stretch out unto the river; thus shall it become more sacred than the Grecian Oak; more sublime in its oracles; more pure in its wisdom; more lasting in its fame! For the idle affectation that delights to collect relics merely for their scarcity, no contempt can be too severe; but I confess myself to have derived a peculiar pleasure, while lately reading the poems of Milton, from marking the various resting-places with his own mulberry-leaves; for I could not look upon those inanimate memorials without bringing before my eyes the flowing locks, the clear blue eyes, the delicate complexion of the Lady of his College; ere the violence of political animosity, or the austerity of religious sectarianism, had cast a shadow upon the beauty of his youth. Nor let these feelings be idly passed by. How often, while wandering along the rural lanes of Weston, or the pleasant fields of Bemerton, or musing in the lonely churchyard of Welwyn, or among those groves once haunted by Francis Beaumont-that "eager child,"-have the lines of Wordsworth arisen to my lips: More sweet than odours caught by him who sails A thousand times more exquisitely sweet, From fields where good men walk, or bowers wherein they rest. Cowley has been dearer to my heart after sitting in the little chamber at Chertsey. In looking back at the sufferings of the University, we are reminded of the prophetic declaration of Cleveland, who, after a strenuous but ineffectual opposition to the election of Cromwell for the town of Cambridge, which he gained by a majority of one, is reported to have exclaimed, "That single vote has ruined both Church and State!" Cleveland was of St. John's; and his pupil, Bishop Lake, has called him the delight and ornament of that Society; he enriched the library, improved the chapel, and elevated the character of the college. The protection obtained for the University by its chancellor, the Earl of Holland, was only nominal. The occupation of the town by Cromwell with the forces of the Parliament, was not likely to be very propitious to piety or to learning. Of the insults to which the members of the University were exposed during this Reign of Terror, accounts have been preserved by eyewitnesses. The tyranny of the soldiers was not confined to the destruction of painted glass; while |