Milton had incurred much anger and unpopularity "on account of
disagreements in our studies," which can scarcely mean anything else
than his disapprobation of the University system. Notwithstanding this
he had been received on a former occasion with unexpected favour, and
on the present is able to say, "I triumph as one placed among the stars
that so many men, eminent for erudition, and nearly the whole
University have flocked hither." We have thus a miniature history of
Milton's connection with his Alma Mater. We see him giving offence
by the freedom of his strictures on the established practices, and
misliking them so much as to write in 1642, "Which [University] as in
the time of her better health and mine own younger judgment, I never
greatly admired, so now much less." But, on the other hand, we see his
intellectual revolt overlooked on account of his unimpeachable conduct
and his brilliant talents, and himself selected to represent his college on
an occasion when an able representative was indispensable. Cambridge
had all imaginable complacency in the scholar, it was towards the
reformer that she assumed, as afterwards towards Wordsworth, the
attitude of
"Blind Authority beating with his staff The child that would have led
him."
The University and Milton made a practical covenant like Frederick the
Great and his subjects: she did what she pleased, and he thought what
he pleased. In sharp contrast with his failure to influence her
educational methods is "that more than ordinary respect which I found
above any of my equals at the hands of those courteous and learned
men, the Fellows of that College wherein I spent seven years; who, at
my parting, after I had taken two degrees, as the manner is, signified
many ways how much better it would content them that I would stay;
as by many letters full of kindness and loving respect, both before that
time and long after, I was assured of their singular good affection
toward me." It may be added here that his comeliness and his chastity
gained him the appellation of "Lady" from his fellow collegians: and
the rooms at Christ's alleged to have been his are still pointed out as
deserving the veneration of poets in any event; for whether Milton
sacrificed to Apollo in them or not, it is certain that in them
Wordsworth sacrificed to Bacchus.
For Milton's own sake and ours his departure from the University was
the best thing that could have happened to him. It saved him from
wasting his time in instructing others when he ought to be instructing
himself. From the point of view of advantage to the University, it is
perhaps the most signal instance of the mischief of strictly clerical
fellowships, now happily things of the past. Only one fellowship at
Christ's was tenable by a layman: to continue in academical society,
therefore, he must have taken orders. Such had been his intention when
he first repaired to Cambridge, but the young man of twenty-three saw
many things differently from the boy of sixteen. The service of God
was still as much as ever the aim of his existence, but he now thought
that not all service was church service. How far he had become
consciously alienated from the Church's creed it is difficult to say. He
was able, at all events, to subscribe the Articles on taking his degree,
and no trace of Arianism appears in his writings for many years. As late
as 1641 he speaks of "the tri-personal Deity." Curiously enough, indeed,
the ecclesiastical freethought of the day was then almost entirely
confined to moderate Royalists, Hales, Chillingworth, Falkland. But he
must have disapproved of the Church's discipline, for he disapproved of
all discipline. He would not put himself in the position of those Irish
clergymen whom Strafford frightened out of their conscientious
convictions by reminding them of their canonical obedience. This was
undoubtedly what he meant when he afterwards wrote: "Perceiving that
he who would take orders must subscribe slave." Speaking of himself a
little further on as "Church-outed by the prelates," he implies that he
would not have refused orders if he could have had them on his own
terms. As regarded Milton personally this attitude was reasonable, he
had a right to feel himself above the restraints of mere formularies; but
he spoke unadvisedly if he meant to contend that a priest should be
invested with the freedom of a Prophet. His words, however, must be
taken in connection with the peculiar circumstances of the time. It was
an era of High Church reaction, which was fast becoming a shameful
persecution. The two moderate prelates, Abbot and Williams, had for
years been in disgrace, and the Church was ruled by the well-meaning,
but sour, despotic, meddlesome bigot whom wise King James
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.