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a double share in the miseries of this life, I, that Wiltshire, where he finished four books of his am none, ought not to repine at what my wise treatise, which were printed in 1594- Queen Creator hath appointed for me, but labour-as Elizabeth having in the following year presented indeed I do daily to submit mine to His will, him to the rectory of Bishopsbourne, in Kent, and possess my soul in patience and peace.' On he removed to that place, where the remainder of his return to London, Sandys made a strong his life was spent in the faithful discharge of the appeal to his father in behalf of Hooker, the result duties of his office. Here he wrote the fifth book, of which was the appointment of the meek divine, published in 1597; and finished other three, which in 1585, to the office of Master of the Temple. did not appear till 1647. Hooker died in NovemHe accordingly removed to London, and com- ber 1600. A few days previously, his house was menced his labours as forenoon preacher. It robbed, and when the fact was mentioned to him, happened that the office of afternoon lecturer at he anxiously inquired whether his books and the Temple was at this period filled by Walter papers were safe. The answer being in the affirmTravers, a man of great learning and eloquence, ative, he exclaimed: "Then it matters not, for no but a high Calvinist in his opinions, while the other loss can trouble me.' views of Hooker, on the other hand, both on church-government and on points of theology, were moderate. The consequence was, that the doctrines delivered from the pulpit varied very much in their character, according to the preacher from whom they proceeded. Indeed, the two orators sometimes preached avowedly in opposition to each other-a circumstance which gave occasion to the remark, that 'the forenoon sermons spoke Canterbury, and the afternoon Geneva,' This disputation, though conducted with good temper, excited so much attention, that Archbishop Whitgift suspended Travers from preaching. There ensued between him and Hooker a keen controversy, which was found so disagreeable by the latter, that he strongly expressed to the archbishop his wish to retire into the country, where he might be permitted to live in peace, and have leisure to finish his treatise, Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, already begun. A letter which he wrote to the archbishop on this occasion deserves to be quoted, as shewing not only that peacefulness of temper which adhered to him through life, but likewise the object that his great work was intended to accomplish :

MY LORD-When I lost the freedom of my cell, which was my college, yet I found some degree of it in my quiet country parsonage. But I am weary of the noise and oppositions of this place; and, indeed, God and nature did not intend me for contentions, but for study and quietness. And, my lord, my particular contests here with Mr Travers have proved the more unpleasant to me, because I believe him to be a good man; and that belief hath occasioned me to examine mine own conscience concerning his opinions. And to satisfy that, I have consulted the holy Scripture, and other laws, both human and divine, whether the conscience of him and others of his judgment ought to be so far complied with by us as to alter our frame of church-government, our manner of God's worship, our praising and praying to him, and our established ceremonies, as often as their tender consciences shall require

us.

And in this examination I have not only satisfied myself, but have begun a treatise in which I intend the satisfaction of others, by a demonstration of the reasonableness of our laws of ecclesiastical polity. But, my lord, I shall never be able to finish what I have begun, unless I be removed into some quiet parsonage, where I may see God's blessings spring out of my motherearth, and eat my own bread in peace and privacy: a place where I may, without disturbance, meditate my approaching mortality, and that great account which all flesh must give at the last day to the God of all

spirits.

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Hooker's treatise on Ecclesiastical Polity displays an astonishing amount of learning, sagacity, and industry; and as a master-piece of reasoning and eloquence, is still one of our greatest works. The earlier portion of the treatise, which was the most carefully finished, has never been excelled. 'So stately and graceful is the march of his periods,' says Mr Hallam, 'so various the fall of his musical cadences upon the ear, so rich in images, so condensed in sentences, so grave and noble his diction, so little is there of vulgarity in his racy idiom, of pedantry in his learned phrase, that I know not whether any later writer has more admirably displayed the capacities of our language, or produced passages more worthy of comparison with the splendid monuments of antiquity. If we compare the first book of the Ecclesiastical Polity with what bears perhaps most resemblance to it of anything extant, the treatise of Cicero De Legibus, it will appear somewhat perhaps inferior, through the imperfection of our language, which, with all its force and dignity, does not equal the Latin in either of these qualities, and certainly more diffuse in some of its reasonings, but by no means less high-toned in sentiment, or less bright in fancy, and far more of its philosophy. Similar panegyrics might be comprehensive and profound in the foundations cited from Southey, Mackintosh, and other critical authorities, but Hooker must be studied to be appreciated. His close reasoning and long sentences require careful perusal.

The argument against the Puritans is conducted by Hooker with rare moderation and candour, and on the broad scale of general principles, not detached texts or interpretations of Scripture. 'It was a kind of maxim among the Puritans, that Scripture was so much the exclusive rule of human actions, that whatever, in matters at least concerning religion, could not be found to have its authority, was unlawful. Hooker devoted the whole second book of his work to the refutation of this principle. He proceeded afterwards to attack its application, more particularly to the episcopal scheme of church-government, and to the various ceremonies or usages which those sectaries treated as either absolutely superstitious, or at least as impositions without authority. It was maintained by this great writer, not only that ritual observances are variable, according to the discretion of ecclesiastical rulers, but that no certain form of polity is set down in Scripture as generally indispensable for a Christian church.' * The work is not to be regarded simply as a

* Hallam's Constitutional History, chap. iv.

theological treatise; it is still referred to as a great authority upon the whole range of moral and political principles. It also bears a value as the first publication in the English language which observed a strict methodical arrangement, and presented a train of clear logical reasoning.

Scripture and the Law of Nature.

it choose but vex and amaze them? For in every action of common life, to find out some sentence clearly and infallibly setting before our eyes what we ought to doseem we in Scripture never so expert-would trouble us more than we are aware. In weak and tender minds, we little know what misery this strict opinion would breed, besides the stops it would make in the whole course of all men's lives and actions. Make all things sin which we do by direction of nature's light, and by the rule of common discretion, without thinking at all upon Scripture: admit this position, and parents shall cause their children to sin, as oft as they cause them to do anything, before they come to years of capacity, and be ripe for knowledge in the Scripture. Admit this, and it shall not be with masters as it was with him in the gospel; but servants being commanded to go, shall stand still till they have their errand warranted unto them by Scripture. Which, as it standeth with Christian duty in some cases, so in common affairs to require it were most

Defence of Reason.

But so it is, the name of the light of nature is made hateful with men; the star of reason and learning, and all other such-like helps, beginneth no otherwise to be thought of, than if it were an unlucky comet; or as if God had so accursed it, that it should never shine or give light in things concerning our duty any way towards him, but be esteemed as that star in the Revelation, called Wormwood, which, being fallen from heaven, maketh rivers and waters in which it falleth so bitter, that men tasting them die thereof. A number there are who think they cannot admire as they ought the power and authority of the Word of God, if in things divine they should attribute any force to man's reason; for which cause they never use reason so willingly as to disgrace reason. Their usual and common discourses are unto this effect. First, the natural man perceiveth not the things of the spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned,' &c. &c. By these and the like disputes, an opinion hath spread itself very far in the world; as if the way to be ripe in faith were to be raw in wit and judgment; as if reason were an enemy unto religion, childish simplicity the mother of ghostly and divine wisdom.

What the Scripture purposeth, the same in all points it doth perform. Howbeit, that here we swerve not in judgment, one thing especially we must observe; namely, that the absolute perfection of Scripture is seen by relation unto that end whereto it tendeth. And even hereby it cometh to pass, that, first, such as imagine the general and main drift of the body of sacred Scripture not to be so large as it is, nor that God did thereby intend to deliver, as in truth he doth, a full instruction in all things unto salvation necessary, the knowledge | unfit. whereof man by nature could not otherwise in this life attain unto; they are by this very mean induced, either still to look for new revelations from heaven, or else dangerously to add to the Word of God uncertain tradition, that so the doctrine of man's salvation may be complete; which doctrine we constantly hold in all respects, without any such things added, to be so complete, that we utterly refuse as much as once to acquaint ourselves with anything further. Whatsoever, to make up the doctrine of man's salvation, is added as in supply of the Scripture's insufficiency, we reject it; Scripture, purposing this, hath perfectly and fully done it. Again, the scope and purpose of God in delivering the holy Scripture, such as do take more largely than behoveth, they, on the contrary, side-racking and stretching it further than by Him was meant, are drawn into sundry as great inconveniences. They, pretending the Scripture's perfection, infer thereupon, that in Scripture all things lawful to be done must needs be contained. We count those things perfect which want nothing requisite for the end whereto they were instituted. As, therefore, God created every part and particle of man exactly perfect-that is to say, in all points sufficient unto that use for which He appointed it so the Scripture, yea, every sentence thereof, is perfect, and wanteth nothing requisite unto that purpose for which God delivered the same. So that, if hereupon we conclude, that because the Scripture is perfect, therefore all things lawful to be done are comprehended in the Scripture; we may even as well conclude so of every sentence, as of the whole sum and body thereof, unless we first of all prove that it was the drift, scope, and purpose of Almighty God in holy Scripture to comprise all things which man may practise. But admit this, and mark, I beseech you, what would follow. God, in delivering Scripture to His church, should clean have abrogated among them the Law of Nature, which is an infallible knowledge imprinted in the minds of all the children of men, whereby both general principles for directing of human actions are comprehended, and conclusions derived from them; upon which conclusions groweth in particularity the choice of good and evil in the daily affairs of this life. Admit this, and what shall the Scripture be but a snare and a torment to weak consciences, filling them with infinite perplexities, scrupulosities, doubts insoluble, and extreme despairs? Not that the Scripture itself doth cause any such thing-for it tendeth to the clean contrary, and the fruit thereof is resolute assurance and certainty in that it teacheth-but the necessities of this life urging men to do that which the light of nature, common discretion, and judgment of itself directeth them unto; on the other side, this doctrine teaching them that so to do were to sin against their own souls, and that they put forth their hands to iniquity, whatsoever they go about, and have not first the sacred Scripture of God for direction; how can it choose but bring the simple a thousand times to their wits' end; how can

To our purpose, it is sufficient that whosoever doth serve, honour, and obey God, whosoever believeth in Him, that man would no more do this than innocents and infants do, but for the light of natural reason that shineth in him, and maketh him apt to apprehend those things of God, which being by grace discovered, are effectual to persuade reasonable minds, and none other, that honour, obedience, and credit belong aright unto God. No man cometh unto God to offer Him sacrifice, to pour out supplications and prayers before Him, or to do Him any service, which doth not first believe Him both to be, and to be a rewarder of them who in such sort seek unto Him. Let men be taught this, either by revelation from heaven, or by instruction upon earth; by labour, study, and meditation, or by the only secret inspiration of the Holy Ghost; whatsoever the mean be they know it by, if the knowledge thereof were possible without discourse of natural reason, why should none be found capable thereof but only men; nor men till such time as they come unto ripe and full ability to work by reasonable understanding? The whole drift of the Scripture of God, what is it, but only to teach theology? Theology, what is it, but the science of things divine? What science can be attained unto, without the help of natural discourse and reason? 'Judge you of that which I speak,' saith the apostle. In vain it were to speak anything of God, but that by reason men are able somewhat to judge of that they hear, and by discourse to discern how consonant it is to truth. Scripture, indeed, teacheth things above nature, things which our reason by itself could not reach unto. Yet those also we believe,

knowing by reason that the Scripture is the word of God.

The thing we have handled according to the question moved about it; which question is, whether the light of reason be so pernicious that, in devising laws for the church, men ought not by it to search what may be fit and convenient? For this cause, therefore, we have endeavoured to make it appear, how, in the nature of reason itself, there is no impediment, but that the selfsame spirit which revealeth the things that God hath set down in his law, may also be thought to aid and direct men in finding out, by the light of reason, what laws are expedient to be made for the guiding of his church, over and besides them that are in Scripture.

The Nature and Majesty of Law.

That which hath greatest force in the very things we see, is notwithstanding itself oftentimes not seen. The stateliness of houses, the goodliness of trees, when we behold them, delighteth the eye; but that foundation which beareth up the one, that root which ministereth unto the other nourishment and life, is in the bosom of the earth concealed; and if there be at any time occasion to search into it, such labour is then more necessary than pleasant, both to them which undertake it, and for the lookers on. In like manner the use and benefit of good laws; all that live under them may enjoy with delight and comfort, albeit the grounds and first original causes from whence they have sprung be unknown, as to the greatest part of men they are. But when they who withdraw their obedience pretend that the laws which they should obey are corrupt and vicious, for better examination of their quality, it behoveth the very foundation and root, the highest well-spring and fountain of them, to be discovered. Which, because we are not oftentimes accustomed to do, when we do it, the pains we take are more needful a great deal than acceptable; and the matters which we handle seem, by reason of newness (till the mind grow better acquainted with them), dark, intricate, and unfamiliar.

And because the point about which we strive is the quality of our laws, our first entrance hereinto cannot better be made than with consideration of the nature of law in general.

All things that are have some operation not violent or casual. Neither doth anything ever begin to exercise the same without some fore-conceived end for which it worketh. And the end which it worketh for is not obtained, unless the work be also fit to obtain it by. For unto every end every operation will not serve. That which doth assign unto each thing the kind, that which doth moderate the force and power, that which doth appoint the form and measure of working, the same we term a Law. So that no certain end could ever be obtained unless the actions whereby it is obtained were regular, that is to say, made suitable, fit, and correspondent unto their end by some canon, rule, or law. Moses, in describing the work of creation, attributeth speech unto God: 'God said, let there be light; let there be a firmament; let the waters under the heaven be gathered together into one place; let the earth bring forth; let there be lights in the firmament of heaven. Was this only the intent of Moses, to signify the infinite greatness of God's power by the easiness of His accomplishing such effects, without travail, pain, or labour? Surely it seemeth that Moses had herein besides this a further purpose, namely, first to teach that God did not work as a necessary, but a voluntary agent, intending beforehand and decreeing with Himself that which did outwardly proceed from Him; secondly, to shew that God did then institute a law natural to be observed by creatures, and therefore, according to the manner of laws, the institution thereof is described as being established by solemn injunction. His commanding those things to be which are, and to be in such sort as they are, to keep that tenure and course which they do, importeth

the establishment of nature's law. This world's first creation, and the preservation since of things created, what is it but only so far forth a manifestation by execu tion, what the eternal law of God is concerning things natural? And as it cometh to pass in a kingdom rightly ordered, that after a law is once published it presently takes effect far and wide, all states framing themselves thereunto; even so let us think it fareth in the natural course of the world: since the time that God did first proclaim the edicts of His law upon it, heaven and earth have hearkened unto His voice, and their labour hath been to do His will. He made a law for the rain, he gave his decree unto the sea, that the waters should not pass his commandment.' Now, if nature should intermit her course, and leave altogether, though it were but for a while, the observation of her own laws; if those principal and mother elements of the world, whereof all things in this lower world are made, should lose the qualities which now they have; if the frame of that heavenly arch erected over our heads should loosen and dissolve itself; if celestial spheres should forget their wonted motions, and by irregular volubilities turn themselves any way as it might happen; if the prince of the lights of heaven, which now as a giant doth run its unwearied course, should, as it were through a languishing faintness, begin to stand and to rest himself; if the moon should wander from her beaten way; the times and seasons of the year blend themselves by disordered and confused mixture; the winds breathe out their last gasp; the clouds yield no rain; the earth be defeated of heavenly influence; the fruits of the earth pine away as children at the withered breasts of their mother, no longer able to yield them relief; what would become of man himself, whom these things now do all serve? See we not plainly that obedience of creatures unto the law of nature is the stay of the whole world?...

Of law there can be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom of God; her voice the harmony of the world. All things in heaven and earth do her homage; the very least as feeling her care, and the greatest as not exempted from her power. Both angels and men, and creatures of what condition soever, though each in different sort and manner, yet all with uniform consent, admiring her as the mother of their peace and joy.

LORD BACON.

The greatest of English philosophers, FRANCIS BACON, was born in London on the 22d of January 1561. He was the youngest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord-keeper of the great seal, by Ann, daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke, a lady of her illustrious son may be said to have inherited great learning and accomplishments, from whom his genius. In childhood, Francis Bacon displayed such vivacity of intellect and sedateness of behaviour, that Queen Elizabeth used to call him her young lord-keeper. At the age of thirteen, he was sent to Trinity College, Cambridge, where he early became disgusted with the Aristotelian philosophy, which then held unquestioned sway in the great English schools of learning. This dislike of the philosophy of Aristotle, as Bacon himself declared to his secretary, Dr Rawley, he fell into, 'not for the worthlessness of the author, to whom he would ever ascribe all high attributes, but for the unfruitfulness of the way, being a philosophy, as his lordship used to say, only strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefit of the life of man.' After spending three years at Cambridge, he went to France, where he

scruple to lend himself to the most arbitrary measures of the court, and even assisted in an attempt to extort from an old clergyman, of the name of Peacham, a confession of treason, by torturing him on the rack.

resided about three years, chiefly at Poitiers, pursuing closely his studies. His observations on foreign affairs were afterwards published in a work, entitled Of the State of Europe. By the sudden death of his father in 1579, he was compelled to return hastily to England, and engage in some Although his income had now been greatly enprofession. After in vain soliciting his uncle, Lord larged by the emoluments of office and a marriage Burleigh, to procure for him such a provision from with the daughter of a wealthy alderman, his extragovernment as might allow him to devote his time vagance and that of his servants, which he seems to literature and philosophy, he spent several years to have been too good-natured to check, continued in the study of the law. While engaged in prac- to keep him in difficulties. He cringed before the tice as a barrister, however, he did not forget phil- king and his favourite Villiers; and at length, on osophy, as it appears that he sketched at an early the 4th of January 1618-19, he attained the summit period of life his great work, called The Instau- of his ambition, by being created Lord High ration of the Sciences. In 1590, he obtained the Chancellor of England, and Baron Verulam. This post of counsel-extraordinary to the queen; and latter title gave place in the following year to that three years afterwards, sat in parliament for the of Viscount St Albans. As chancellor, it cannot county of Middlesex. As an orator, he is highly be concealed that, both in his political and judiextolled by Ben Jonson. In one of his speeches, cial capacities, he grossly deserted his duty. Not he distinguished himself by taking the popular only did he suffer Villiers to interfere with his side in a question respecting some large subsidies decisions as a judge, but, by accepting numerous demanded by the court; but finding that he had presents or bribes from suitors, gave occasion, in given great offence to her majesty, he at once 1621, to a parliamentary inquiry, which ended in altered his tone, and condescended to apologise his condemnation and disgrace. He fully conwith that servility which unhappily appeared in too fessed the twenty-three articles of corruption which many of his subsequent actions. To Lord Burleigh were laid to his charge; and when waited on by and his son, Robert Cecil, Bacon continued to a committee of the House of Lords, appointed to pay court, in hope of advancement, till at length, inquire whether the confession was subscribed by finding himself disappointed in that quarter, he himself, he answered: 'It is my act, my hand, attached himself to Burleigh's rival, Essex, who, my heart: I beseech your lordships to be merciwith all the ardour of a generous friendship, en- ful to a broken reed.' Banished from public life, deavoured to procure for him, in 1594, the vacant he had now ample leisure to attend to his philooffice of solicitor-general. In this attempt he was sophical and literary pursuits. Yet, even while defeated, through the influence of the Cecils, he was engaged in business, these had not been who were jealous of both him and his friend; neglected. In 1597, he published Meditationes but Essex in some degree soothed Bacon's dis- Sacræ, a Table of the Colours of Good and Evil, appointment by presenting him with an estate at and ten Essays. In 1612, he reprinted the Essays, Twickenham, which he afterwards sold for £1800. increased to thirty-eight; and finally, in 1625, he It is painful to relate in what manner Bacon repaid again issued them, 'newly written,' and now fiftysuch benefits. When Essex was brought to trial eight in number. These, as he himself says of for a conspiracy against the queen, the friend them, 'come home to men's business and bosoms; whom he had so greatly obliged and confided in and, like the late new halfpence, the pieces are not only deserted him in the hour of need, but un- small, and the silver is good.' From the generally necessarily appeared as counsel against him, and interesting nature of the subjects of the Essays, by every art and ingenuity of a pleader, endeav- and their intrinsic excellence, the work immeoured to magnify his offence. He complied, more-diately acquired great popularity, and to the present over, after the earl's execution, with the queen's request that he should write A Declaration of the Practices and Treasons attempted and committed by Robert, Earl of Essex, which was printed by authority. Into this conduct, which indicates a lamentable want of high moral principle, courage, and self-respect, Bacon was in some measure led by pecuniary difficulties, into which his improvident and ostentatious habits, coupled with the relative inadequacy of his income, had plunged him. By maintaining himself in the good graces of the court, he hoped to secure that professional advancement which would at once improve his fortune and gratify his ambition. Such moral obliquity justified the antithesis which charac

terises him as

The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind. After the accession of James, the fortunes of Bacon began to improve. He was knighted in 1603, and, in subsequent years, obtained successively the offices of king's counsel, solicitor-general, judge of the Marshalsea Court, and attorneygeneral. This last appointment he received in 1613. In the execution of his duties, he did not

day continues to be the chosen companion of all
students and thinkers. 'It is,' to use the words
of Dugald Stewart, 'one of those where the supe-
riority of his genius appears to the greatest ad-
vantage, the novelty and depth of his reflections
often receiving a strong relief from the triteness of
his subject. It may be read from beginning to
end in a few hours, and yet, after the twentieth
perusal, one seldom fails to remark in it something
overlooked before. This, indeed, is a character-
istic of all Bacon's writings, and is only to be
accounted for by the inexhaustible aliment they
furnish to our own thoughts, and the sympathetic
activity they impart to our torpid faculties.'*
1605, he published another work, which still con-
tinues to be extensively perused; it is entitled Of
the Proficience and Advancement of Learning,
Divine and Human. This volume, which was
afterwards enlarged and published in the Latin
language, with the title De Augmentis Scienti-
arum, constitutes the first part of his great work,
Instauratio Scientiarum, or the Instauration of
the Sciences. The second part, entitled Novum

In

* First Preliminary Dissertation to Encyclopædia Britannica.

Organum, is that on which chiefly his high reputation as a philosopher is grounded, and on the composition of which he bestowed most labour. It is written in Latin, and appeared in 1620. In the first part of the Advancement of Learning, after considering the excellence of knowledge, and the means of disseminating it, together with what had already been done for its advancement, and what omitted, he proceeds to divide it into the three branches of history, poetry, and philosophy, these having reference to what he considers the three parts of man's understanding'-memory, imagination, and reason. The concluding portion of the volume relates to revealed religion. The Novum Organum, which, as already mentioned, is the second and most important. part of the Instauration of the Sciences, consists of aphorisms, the first of which furnishes a key to the author's leading doctrines: 'Man, who is the servant and interpreter of nature, can act and understand no further than he has, either in operation or in contemplation, observed of the method and order of nature.' His new method-novum organum-of employing the understanding in adding to human knowledge, is fully expounded in this work.

After alluding to the little aid which the useful arts had derived from science, and the small improvement which science had received from practical men, he proceeds: 'But whence can arise such vagueness and sterility in all the physical systems which have hitherto existed in the world? It is not certainly from anything in nature itself; for the steadiness and regularity of the laws by which it is governed, clearly mark them out as objects of certain and precise knowledge. Neither can it arise from any want of ability in those who have pursued such inquiries, many of whom have been men of the highest talent and genius of the ages in which they lived; and it can therefore arise from nothing else but the perverseness and insufficiency of the methods that have been pursued. Men have sought to make a world from their own conceptions, and to draw from their own minds all the materials which they employed; but if, instead of doing so, they had consulted experience and observation, they would have had facts, and not opinions, to reason about, and might have ultimately arrived at the knowledge of the laws which govern the material world.' 'As things are at present conducted, a sudden transition is made from sensible objects and particular facts to general propositions, which are accounted principles, and round which, as round so many fixed poles, disputation and argument continually revolve. From the propositions thus hastily assumed, all things are derived, by a process compendious and precipitate, ill suited to discovery, but wonderfully accommodated to debate. The way that promises success is the reverse of this. It requires that we should generalise slowly, going from particular things to those which are but one step more general; from those to others of still greater extent, and so on to such as are universal. By such means we may hope to arrive at principles, not vague and obscure, but luminous and well defined, such as nature herself will not refuse to acknowledge.' After describing the causes which lead the understanding astray in the search after knowledge-the idols, as he figura- | tively terms them, before which it is apt to bowBacon, in the second book of the Novum Organum,

The

goes on systematically to expound and exemplify his method of philosophising, indicated in the foregoing extracts, and to which the appellation of the inductive method is applied. This he does in so masterly a way, that he has earned with posterity the title of the father of experimental science. power and compass,' says Professor Playfair, ‘of a mind which could form such a plan beforehand, and trace not merely the outline, but many of the most minute ramifications, of sciences which did not yet exist, must be an object of admiration to all succeeding ages.' It is true that the inductive method had been both practised and even cursorily recommended by more than one philosopher prior to Bacon; but unquestionably he was the first to unfold it completely, to shew its infinite importance, and to induce the great body of scientific inquirers to place themselves under its guidance. In another respect, the benefit conferred by Bacon upon mankind was perhaps still greater. He turned the attention of philosophers from speculations and disputes upon questions remote from use, and fixed it upon inquiries 'productive of works for the benefit of the life of man.' The Aristotelian philosophy was barren; the object of Bacon was the amplification of the power and kingdom of mankind over the world''the enlargement of the bounds of human empire to the effecting all things possible'-the augmentation, by means of science, of the sum of human happiness, and the alleviation of human suffering. În a word, he was eminently a utilitarian, using that term in its enlarged sense, as comprehending the moral and intellectual, as well as the material welfare of man.

The third part of the Instauration of the Sciences, entitled Sylva Sylvarum, or History of Nature, is devoted to the facts and phenomena of natural science, including original observations made by Bacon himself, which, though sometimes incorrect, are useful in exemplifying the inductive method of searching for truth. The fourth part is called Scala Intellectus, from its pointing out a succession of steps by which the understanding may ascend in such investigations. Other two parts, which the author projected, were never executed.

Another celebrated publication of Lord Bacon is his treatise, Of the Wisdom of the Ancients, 1610; wherein he attempts, generally with more ingenuity than success, to discover secret meanings in the mythological fables of antiquity. He wrote also Felicities of Queen Elizabeth's Reign; a History of King Henry VII.; a philosophical romance called the New Atlantis; and several minor productions which it is needless to specify.

After retiring from public life, Bacon, though enjoying an annual income of £2500, continued to live in so ostentatious and prodigal a style, that, at his death in 1626, his debts amounted to upwards of £22,000. His devotion to science appears to have been the immediate cause of his death. Travelling in his carriage when there was snow on the ground, he began to consider whether flesh might not be preserved by snow as well as by salt. In order to make the experiment, he alighted at a cottage near Highgate, bought a hen, and stuffed it with snow. This so chilled him, that he was unable to return home, but went to the Earl of Arundel's house in the neighbourhood, where his illness was so much increased by the dampness of a bed into which he was put, that he died in a few

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