Amid the religious dissensions at this period, encouraged and increased by James’s suspected inclination to popery, it was scarcely possible to avoid giving offence to the supporters of the various doctrinal opinions which in this confusion of faiths divided the people. At the head of the Church was Dr. George Abbott, a bigoted and captious Puritan: opposed to this disciple of Calvin was Laud, then growing into fame, who boldly supported the opinions of Arminius. With the latter Corbet coincided: but the undisguised publication of his faith had nearly proved fatal to his future prospects; for, “preaching the Passion sermon at Christ-Church, (1613,) he insisted on the article of Christ’s descending into hell, and therein grated upon Calvin’s manifest perverting of the true sense and meaning of it: for which, says Heylyn, he was so rattled up by the Repetitioner, (Dr. Robert Abbott, brother of the archbishop,) that if he had not been a man of a very great courage, it might have made him afraid of staying in the University. This, it was generally conceived, was not done without the archbishop’s setting on; but the best was, adds Heylyn, that none sunk under the burthen of these oppressions, if (like the camomile) they did not rise the higher by it[4].” When James, in 1605[5], visited Oxford in his summer progress, the wits of the sister University vented their raillery at the entertainment given to the royal visitor[6]. Cambridge, which had long solicited the same honour, was in the year 1614-5 indulged with his presence. Many students from Oxford witnessed the ceremonial of his reception; and the local histories of the two Universities at that period, are replete with pasquinades and ballads sufficiently descriptive of their mutual animosities. An eye-witness declares, “Though I endured a great deal of penance by the way for this little pleasure, yet I would not have missed it, for that I see thereby the partiality of both sides—the Cambridge men pleasing and applauding themselves in all, and the Oxford men as fast condemning and detracting all that was done; wherein yet I commended Corbet’s modesty, whilst he was there; who being seriously dealt withal by some friends to say what he thought, answered, that he had left his malice and judgment at home, and came there only to commend[7].” Notwithstanding this conciliatory declaration, the opportunity of retorting upon the first assailants was too tempting to Corbet’s wit to be slighted; and immediately upon his return he composed the ballad, page 13, “To the tune of Bonny Nell.”—This humorous narrative excited several replies; the most curious of which was the one, in Latin and English, (at page 24,) written, perhaps, by sir Thomas Lake, afterwards secretary of state, who performed the part of Trico in the Cambridge play of Ignoramus, and who had a ring bequeathed him by the author, Ruggles[8].