“But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloister pale
And love the high embossed roof,
With antic pillars massy proof:
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.”—MILTON.
A visit to our principal Universities cannot fail to awaken an interesting association of ideas; ” forgotten generations live again;” and the men who, in by-gone days, have been trained in these venerable halls of learning, to carry forth among their fellows the lights of science, philosophy, and religion, again start into imaginary existence; and, “though dead, yet speak” in words and tones to which we always listen with interest, and sometimes with reverence and delight. The ages in which, for the most part, our colleges were founded were those bustling periods in which private feuds and public insurrections left but little room for the calm studies of literature; wars and devastations, massacres, rebellions, and revolutions, were the ordinary occurrences, diversified indeed; and it may be somewhat embellished by feats of chivalry and tales of romance. It was, as has been well remarked, the age of refined savagery. Philosophy was not to be found in the halls of princes, nor in the castles of their nobles; their ambition was in the field, and their profession was arms. But they had moments of pause and reflection; then they founded religious houses and colleges; and thither, as to a focus, all the scattered rays of the knowledge, and the philosophy, and the literature of those times were drawn; and genius, art, and taste, rude though they might sometimes be, there found an abode.
Cambridge was the seat of a University at a very early period in English history; some antiquarians say so far back as A.D. 630. In the former part of the thirteenth century religious houses were very numerous in the town; The students in the University, not living as now in colleges, but in private houses, as is the custom in Germany and Italy; these houses were called halls, hostles, or inns (hospitia studiosorum); several of them were at length deserted, and sunk into decay: others being purchased, in succession, by patrons of literature, and obtaining incorporation with right of mortmain, because permanent rich endowments. Various charters and privileges were granted by successive monarchs; and seventeen colleges have been founded, among which are remains of Saxon architecture, the most perfect examples of the Gothic and some admired specimens of all the Grecian orders. Sidney College (the subject of our engraving) occupies the site on which formerly stood a religious house of that numerous body, the Franciscans or Grey Friars. This house was founded by Edward the First, but was dissolved, and its property dispersed at the general suppression of monasteries. The college was founded during the reign of Queen Elizabeth—an era remarkably distinguished for learned ladies and patronesses of literature—by Lady Frances Sidney, Countess of Sussex, aunt to the celebrated Sir Philip Sidney, who was renowned throughout Europe as a poet, a warrior, a philosopher, a politician, and, above all, as “a good man”. This illustrious lady bequeathed £5000, besides some other property, for the erection and endowment of the college which now bears her name. The charter of its foundation bears date 1593.
At this college there are nine foundation fellowships, all open to the natives of any part of her Majesty’s dominions. Besides the foundation fellowships, there are two founded by Mr. Peter Blundell, appropriated to his scholars of this college; and one fellowship founded by Leonard Smith,the nomination of which is vested in the Warden and Company of Fishmongers. The Blundell Fellowships are tenable for only ten years after the degree of M.A.; but in other respects the fellows have nearly the same privileges, authority, &c., as the Foundation Fellows. A mathematical lectureship, present value £140 per annum, was founded by Mr. Tayler. The lectureship is not tenable with a fellowship, but may be held by a layman. This college has also many valuable exhibitions and scholarships, which the curious in these matters will find fully detailed in the “Cambridge University Calendar.”
Sidney College is pleasantly situated, with a beautiful garden and walk, which forms, according to the testimony of one of the historians of Cambridge, the “sweetest retreat for lover or poet in the University.” Among the many eminent men whom the literary history of this college as having there acquired that learning and mental discipline which enabled them to become prominent on the theatre of the world, we may mention the stern republican, Protector Oliver Cromwell, who was admitted a fellow-commoner there April 23rd, 1616. In 1628 he represented the town of Cambridge, and some years after took violent possession of it with the Parliamentarian army. Sir Roger L’Estrange, the editor of the first English newspaper, the Public Intelligencer, published in 1660, completed his studies at Sidney College; and Dr. Thomas Wilson, the pious Bishop of Soder and Man, who died in 1755, and the memory of whose sanctity and many virtues is “in all the churches,” was also educated there; several authors who have added to our national stock of poetical and historical literature, but whose works our limits prevent us from enumerating, were likewise graduates of Sidney College.
The reminiscences which buildings of this description are calculated to excite are always of a most interesting character; the early struggles of genius—the persevering acquisition of knowledge—and the gradual development of those intellectual powers, which may hereafter enable their possessors to guide and enlighten mankind by their wisdom, to extend the boundaries of science, to shake a senate, or to rule an empire, are subjects for many a fanciful speculation, and many a pleasing reflection; while the sages of the past still instruct us from the volumes which their learning poetically expressed it, and philosophy have bequeathed to the world, or, as Sir E. Bulwer has poetically expressed it,
“the wise,
(Minstrel or sage) out of their books are clay,
But in their books, as from their graves they rise,
Angels—that, side by side, upon our way,
Walk with and warn us.”
The Illustrated London News, London, England, Week Ending November 12, 1842
