There is a remarkable point of view on the South Eastern side of Christ's College gardens, at the right-hand of the bowling green; it represents in succession the spire of Trinity Church, the Tower of Great St. Mary's, and the pinnacled gothic roof of King's College Chapel, the whole displaying a panorama embraced in a beautiful framework of foliage such as Nature rarely furnishes even to one of her choicest pictures. Often have we seen the stranger in Cambridge, who has been led into these gardens to pay his respects at Milton's tree, arrest suddenly his footsteps, as if startled with surprise, as soon as he had reached the spot which commands this lovely prospect; and we question, unless perhaps he be some enthusiastic admirer of Liberty or Poetry, some devoted worshipper of Republicanism, or wrapt child of song, we question whether he has not returned considering himself better repaid for his visit by this passing and unexpected treat, than by the recollections or meditations which the Spirit of the Great Bard himself might evoke.

Much depends in all cases upon the day and the hour, the time and place, at which an object of interest is first presented to our consideration: the first impressions are like first love, generally the most durable, because they are the deepest;—they are sealed, as it were, on the soft vermillion of the heart, whose surface, though in after days seared and broken by less pleasing occurrences, retains faithfully to the last the precious stamp of early and dear remembrances.