them from the mainland even less trustworthy, it were unmanly not to essay the trial."

Of the above class of thinkers Duport was no unfit representative. The enthusiasm which he brought to his classical researches was not inferior to that of the PlatoHis fondness nists, but of a very different kind. He belonged not

for verse com

position.

merely to a different school of philosophy, but his admiration was reserved rather for the language than the thought of the classic writers. With most scholars, to study those writers has been the business of their lives, to imitate them, their recreation; with Duport, the imitation seems to have been the business and recreation too. His fondness for Latin and Greek versification amounted to a passion, a passion which even old age could not diminish. His verse, it is true, was such as the critical taste of his day admitted, but of a kind which Milton probably read with but qualified approbation, and such as the editors of the Arundines Cami or the Sabrina Corolla might have found themselves under the necessity of politely declining. His chief models were Homer and Martial, and all the metrical licences for which authority could be quoted-from Homer to Anacreon, from Lucretius to Lucan-were liberally reproduced. It is said that scarcely any difference is discernible between his most juvenile and mature productions. The assiduity with which he plied his art, commendable enough in a boy of fifteen, assumes a somewhat different character in the man of fifty. Events which the divine and the moralist sought to improve in sacred discourse, which the politician anxiously noted and the historian thought deserving of record, were valued by Duport chiefly as another opportunity for bringing under the public eye a new copy of Greek hexameters or of Latin hendecasyllabies. The readiness with which he availed himself of such oppor

pieces.

tunities sometimes exceeded the good taste displayed. On the peace with Holland he was among the contributors His occasional to the Oliva Pacis, a collection of congratulatory verses to his "Highness, the Protector Oliver," and many of his friends thought that silence would have better become the muse of so ardent an episcopalian and royalist. On the most solemn of all occasions no professional mourner could have appeared on the scene with greater alacrity. On the death of Dr Thomas Harrison, the vice-master of Trinity, it was certainly only natural that so eminent a versifier should contribute to the customary formal lamentations on the removal of so distinguished a member of his own college. Had Duport chosen to deplore the general loss and to commend the virtues of the deceased in a few decorous iambics or elegiacs, he would simply have performed the part he was expected to bear. He elected, however, to imitate Homer; and Dr Brooke, the master of the college, is personified as chief mourner, haranguing, in rolling Greek hexameters, the board of senior fellows on the loss they had sustained. One cannot help thinking that whatever feeling of genuine regret the Vice-master's death might have occasioned, it must have momentarily disappeared before so singular a mode of treatment.

The professor's powers of versification were, however, capable of longer flights than mere threnodia or epinicia. He translated the whole book of Job into Homeric verse, and the translation continued for a long time to be used as a class-book both in the University and elsewhere. In 1646 he published, at the University Press, a like translation of the Book of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon, accompanied by a Latin version. His prin- His "Homeri cipal work was his Homeri Gnomologia, published in 1660. It consists, says bishop Monk, of a "collection of

Gnomologia."

Retires from

the Greek Professorship in favour of Barrow.

gural Oration.

all the sentences in the Iliad or the Odyssey containing any aphorism, sentiment, or remarkable opinion, illustrated by a twofold series of quotations, first from the Scriptures, and next from the whole range of classical authors wherever any parallel idea or expression can be found. The learning displayed is considerable; 'while the judgment and self-command of the author is far greater than appears in any of his other books."

In 1660 Duport was invited to resume his post as Professor of Greek, which he had eventually been compelled by the Puritan party to resign in 1654. He declined the honour, recommending in his stead his favourite Barrow's Inau- pupil, Isaac Barrow. The oration with which Barrow inaugurated his acceptance of the new dignity is still preserved in his Opuscula, and is interesting from the illustration it affords of the state of classical education at that day. The orator passes in brief review his predecessors in the office. Erasmus, Sir Thomas Smith (whom he styles "Faber, fatale nomen litteris demerendis"), Sir John Cheke, Downes, and Creighton, each receive their meed of approbation, and a glowing eulogium is passed upon his friend and tutor. Availing himself of the licence afforded by a learned language, Barrow even ventures upon a passing pleasantry upon his predecessor's personal appearance; Duport, being of diminutive stature, might fail, he observes, to give to a mere observer of externals anything like an adequate impression of his powers1.

In 1668 Duport was elected to the mastership of Magdalene College, which he continued to hold until his death in 1679. His classical predilections absorbed, it would seem, the greater part of both his time and mental energies, for his acquaintance with English literature was slight, and he rarely attempts an estimate of his contem1 "Et oculorum licet judicio renuenti."— Opuscula, p. 102.

Milton probably

poraries'. Among the dramatists of the Elizabethan period, his favourite was Ben Jonson, and he considered Cowley, (then in the zenith of his fame,) the greatest of English poets. It has been supposed that, as Milton was Duport and two years his junior, a similarity of tastes and a like acquainted. reputation probably made them acquainted with each other during the poet's residence at Cambridge. The supposition gains colouring from the fact that, bitter as were Duport's invectives against regicides and their defenders, he omits entirely to name the author of the Defensio Populi. Admiration of Milton's genius and old associations may not improbably have combined to make him silent respecting one, whom, from detestation of his political career, he could hardly have mentioned in terms of commendation".

Heywood and Duport excepted, we have little information respecting Cambridge studies during the Commonwealth3, nor can we view with much curiosity the details of such an abnormal state of affairs. The great political revolution was, however, pregnant with results of a far different character to those which became immediately manifest,—results which, though obscured under a temporary cloud, were destined to emerge with splendour towards the close of the century. The De- Declaration of claration of Breda, on the restoration of monarchy, proved how great had been the progress towards religious free

1 His epigram on the Religio Medici would seem to show that he had read and admired the book; but the attention excited by that original and profound treatise was unusually general.

2 For most of the facts in the foregoing sketch I am indebted to the interesting memoir in the second volume of the Museum Criticum, from the pen of bishop Monk.

3 At Trinity College the register of the admissions of scholars was unkept, and from 1643 to 1661 no entries are to be found. See Wilkin's Life of Sir T. Browne, p. 75.

Breda,

dom which had been accomplished since the outbreak of the Civil War. In a second declaration given at Whitehall on the 25th of October, 1660, Charles declared his intention of adhering to all his previous promises for “the liberty of tender consciences1." An extract from this document, given in Heywood and Wright's University Transactions of the Puritan Period2, will afford sufficient information with respect to the regulations now introduced in reference to those matters of religious ceremonial which, as we have seen, had been the cause of such bitter dispute between the contending parties. We all know, how, within two years from the date of the above document, the fair promise of the new reign was overclouded. In the meantime the course of study within the University had returned to its former channels. Aristotle was again studied and expounded; the Fathers resumed their old supremacy; and the schools resounded once more with the disputations of the dialecticians. Only a few of the foremost minds had as yet caught the afflatus of that new spirit which had risen on the waters of human thought.