LETTER XII.

RIDE TO

CAMBRIDGE-DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY AND UNIVERSITY.

August, 1825.

On the 18th we left London for Cambridge, fifty miles in a northeasterly direction from the metropolis. An intelligent and agreeable friend from Philadelphia, who had just completed his travels on the continent, joined us in a tour through the north of England and Scotland. Our exit from the capital was by the Newington road, which for a long distance presented a full view of the dome of St. Paul's and the hundred spires and turrets of London, upon which we turned and gazed, as the city receded, until it was lost in a dense atmosphere. The suburbs in this direction are not interesting. There are extensive brick-yards in the environs, where immense quantities of tile and other materials for building are manufactured. The air was filled with coalsmoke, proceeding from the kilns, rendered more disagreeable by a rainy morning. An hour's ride, however, carried us beyond the choked atmosphere of the town, and brought us into a region of bright skies, pure breezes, and scenes of rural quiet—a change, which at this season was peculiarly grateful to the senses, dissipating languor, and giving tone to the mind as well as to the body.

Passing Tottenham Cross, we entered a rich agricultural country, possessing the usual charms of English landscape. Our route was on the northern road, along the new river, whence London is supplied with water, and by Waltham Cross, a curious monument erected by Edward I. in commemoration of his queen.

Our departure from London, as well as our entrance, led through places consecrated by the feats of Cowper's hero, the immortal Gilpin, whose race-ground has furnished us more amusement than any course which has been observed since landing, not excepting those where golden cups may have been won by the studs of noblemen. The village of "Ware" derives its principal interest from this facetious ballad, and from an account given by the coachman of a mammoth bed, at the Saracen's Head, which is sufficiently capacious to accommodate twenty persons of a night. Near this village, we met lady Salisbury in her coach, with two postillions, and a brace of outriders, all in livery. She is said to be a second Dian Vernon in horsemanship, riding full speed and leaping the most formidable barriers at the staghunts, in which she is peculiarly fond of participating. The English ladies generally ride on horseback with boldness, dexterity, and grace

fulness. Their beaver hats, exactly resembling those of the other sex ; their high collars and black cravats, tied before in the style of a fashionable gentleman; with the appendage of a long whip, give them somewhat of a masculine appearance. One of the causes, however, of rosy cheeks and healthy complexions may be found in these equestrian exercises, and in the habit of walking much more than is common in the United States.

Midway between London and Cambridge, the aspect of the country suddenly changes to naked swells of land, resembling the Irish scenery, except that the surface is less verdant. There are no fences of any kind for miles. Hundreds of poor women and children were seen gleaning the fields, picking up an ear at a time, and filling their aprons. The scene brought to mind a beautiful passage in the Seasons; and we could not but unite in the humane wish of the poet, that the reaper might be merciful in gathering the harvest, leaving a liberal portion to compensate the toils of these industrious females. A gentleman in the coach informed me, that they sometimes collect enough to make five or six bushels of wheat; and that whole families are supplied with bread for the year by the fruits of such patient labour. It is accounted disreputable and odious, on the part of the wealthy proprietor of the field, to be rigid and niggardly in his directions to the reapers; and public sentiment in some measure compels him to scatter his bounty.

At 4 o'clock we reached Cambridge, and riding by several of the colleges which compose the University, took lodgings at the Sun Hotel. With all its air of venerable antiquity, and with all its modern improvements, the town is not calculated at the first glance to produce a very favourable impression; and little did we suppose on entering, that it would be left with so much regret. The streets are irregular, and the general aspect of the buildings is mean. Some of the public edifices, however, are magnificent, and others present a still stronger claim to attention, from being associated with one of the most celebrated seats of learning in the world. By a curious coincidence, our arrival was on the anniversary of my visit to Dartmouth the summer previous; and the recollection of pleasures there enjoyed in the society of its scholars, and the circle of my friends, heightened the gratification derived from rambling through the classic retreats of a kindred institution-the fountain whence the former drew much of its science, literature, and taste. Upon the banks of the Cam, I found many interesting memorials of those authors, whose works had afforded me so much delight upon the wilder and more romantic banks of the Connecticut. Newton, Bacon, Milton, Dryden,

Gray, and a host of others! Who would not venerate the Alma Mater of such sons ?--who would not love the haunts of their early meditations, and the academic shades which their footsteps have hallowed?

But my feelings are in advance of my story :-An obliging friend in New-York, among his many favours gave me an introduction to a Fellow of one of the Colleges, requesting him to make me acquainted with the Professor of Chemistry. The letter was enclosed with my card, and despatched by a servant, who in a few minutes returned with a report, that "the gentleman had left off tutoring, and had been out of town two months." As we had no other letter to this place, such intelligence created not a little disappointment and regret, and for a time it was feared, that our visit would, in great measure, be lost. Thanks to that generous hospitality and that spirit of liberality and kindness, which can overlook the forms of etiquette, and enter warmly into the feelings of strangers, our desponding anticipations were far from being realized; and I rejoice at an incident, which only served to increase my respect and esteem for gentlemen, with whom we afterwards became acquainted.

As a last resort, and in violation of the rigid rules of politeness, the letter was inclosed to the gentleman indirectly named in it, with an apology for such a procedure. A friendly note, containing an invitation to breakfast next morning, was soon received in reply. Although favours of this description were neither sought nor expected, the courtesy was too frank and cordial to be declined. Such an introduction, brief and indirect as it was, led to a series of attentions, and to personal acquaintances, which will be long remembered with gratitude and pleasure. An instance so strongly marked and unequivocal in its character, in an institution too whose officers might be supposed to feel all the pride of opinion, satisfied me that the more liberal portion of the people of England entertain no other than the kindest feelings towards the United States, and earnestly desire that no political occurrences may hereafter interrupt the friendly relations between the two countries.

Not restricting his civilities to the formality of a breakfast and an introduction to his family, the Professor of Chemistry devoted the whole day and evening to us, doing every thing which unostentatious kindness could suggest, to render our visit profitable and pleasant. Our first call was at the Philosophical and Literary Rooms, which are spacious and commodious, finished in handsome style, and furnished with newspapers, periodical journals, and a handsome library for the use of the Society, whose members here hold their stated meetings, and as

semble daily to read and converse. The North American Review was observed among the books upon the table.

We were next conducted to Trinity College, the most extensive and celebrated of the seventeen sister institutions, which constitute the University. It is a magnificent pile of buildings, standing round several open courts, covered with green sod. Deep arcades extend quite round the basement of the four façades, opening into the square, and affording commodious walks in inclement weather. There the student finds a porch for exercise and meditation, with something of nature to refresh the mind and gratify the eye. The apartments of the officers, fellows, scholars, and other residents are handsome and convenient, with their names upon the doors, like private dwellings.

Trinity College was founded by Edward III. and its funds were greatly increased by Henry VIII. The liberal donations of the latter were subsequently augmented by Queen Mary. It has produced a great number of eminent men, among whom are Newton, Bacon, Coke, Barrow, Dryden, Cowley, Bentley and Porson, with hundreds of lesser stars. Monuments of these illustrious men adorn its ancient and venerable halls. The college at present consists of about sixty fellows, seventy scholars, and three or four hundred under-graduates. It has in its gift sixty-three livings, and the appointment to the mastership of three schools.

At the door of Trinity College we were introduced to the University Professor of Geology, who was not less polite and assiduous in his attentions than his associate in office, devoting to us the greater part of his time during our visit. He conducted us to his cabinet, rich with the fruits of research and industry, where something more than an hour was passed in explaining his extensive collection of fossils and minerals. The specimens of organic remains are more numerous, complete, and perfect than I had before seen. Most of them were collected in situ by himself. For this purpose, he makes one or two excursions every summer to various parts of the kingdom, returning richly laden with spoils. His surveys are systematic and thorough, leaving nothing unexamined which the most laborious investigation can accomplish. He has just returned from a visit to the Isle of Wight, the mineralogical treasures of which were explored by him. The specimens are neatly arranged in drawers, corresponding with the strata in which they were found, and ready for use in the illustrations of his lectures. In this way, a perfect knowledge may be obtained of the several geological sections of England. He pursues in his instructions the path marked out by Bacon, in natural philosophy, and by Cuvier in geology-to collect facts and data, laying little stress upon

theories. From his talents and unwearied efforts, many advances in a science, yet in its infancy, may be anticipated.

In his manners, this gentleman has nothing of that precision, stiffness, and pompous formality, which learned dunces sometimes assume to increase their importance. We were charmed with his unaffected politeness, ease, and frankness. While earnestly engaged in exhibiting and explaining the skeleton of a monstrous animal, of the lizard kind, found upon the coast of Yorkshire, and the species of which is now extinct, he for a moment stopped short, and said "by the bye, gentlemen, I hope you will do us the favour to dine with us to-day, in the Hall of Trinity College, to be there about five minutes before 4 o'clock❞—and then he proceeded in his lecture upon the lizard. This parenthetical invitation to dinner was more gratifying than a hundred formal notes would have been.

From his geological cabinet, he and the professor of Chemistry accompanied us to the Library, where we were introduced to the Fellow, who has charge of that department, and who adds to his literary attainments great urbanity and courtesy. He pointed out the objects most worthy of notice; and these were both numerous and in the highest degree interesting. The apartment appropriated to the library is a splendid hall, 200 feet long, 40 wide, and 38 high, enriched with fine specimens of architecture and with a variety of busts, among which are those of Newton and Bacon by Roubiliac. At one end of the hall, there is a large painted window, representing the presentation of Sir Isaac Newton to George III. It is a striking device, and the colours are brilliant, being as vivid as when the work was executed. But there is a curious anachronism in making Sir Isaac a cotemporary with the third Brunswick. The painting is not treated with much respect, and the scholars laugh at the blunder of the artist.

man.

In the entrance to the hall stands a reflecting telescope, used by Newton in his astronomical studies, and in one of the recesses, a globe, a quadrant, and compass, which once belonged to the same immortal In another recess, the librarian showed us a manuscript in the hand-writing of Milton, containing his Mask of Comus, Lycidas, and the plan of Paradise Lost, with all the erasures and interlineationsthe correspondence of Newton with one of his friends, while he was publishing his Principia, with many of his diagrams, algebraical and geometrical calculations-the notes and indexes to Greek authors, in the hand-writing of Dr. Bentley-and other literary curiosities of the same kind, which were examined with intense interest.

There are about ninety thousand volumes in this library. The several departments are very complete, and the collection is extremely rare