rater

to the king, and now being attorney-general, he took measures for the conviction of an aged minister of the gospel, by the name of Peacham, which has stamped his memory with indelible shame. This clergyman was apprehended for having in his possession a written sermon, in which it was alleged there were some treasonable passages. It was desired by the court that he should be punished, but the proof was inadequate. The practice of torture, for the purpose of obtaining evidence, had been common in the civil courts of England, though it was not theoretically avowed by the law. Bacon, however, gave his opinion in favor of torture, in the present case, and the old minister was put to the rack. He, however, would confess nothing, and Bacon complained to the king that he had a "dumb devil." The proof being insufficient, the attorney-general did not now hesitate to tamper with the judges, and attempt to persuade them to convict the prisoner. In this he failed, and accordingly the brave old man, not being executed, was permitted the grace of drawing out his miserable existence in gaol. What tales of horror linger in the prisons of pious kings and holy judges!

Though involved in politics, and a sedulous courtier, as well as an active lawyer, Bacon still found time to cultivate philosophy, and at different periods published several works, all displaying wonderful powers of mind, and seeming to show habits of thought, and a current of feeling, utterly at variance with the life he led. He passed through various stages of preferment, and in 1617 was made lord chancellor, and in 1619 received the title of Viscount St. Albans. He

had now reached the pinnacle of his wishes and the acme of his fame. In the beginning of the year 1620, he kept his birth-day with great state, at York House, the place of his birth. Ben Jonson was present among the throng of lordly guests, and cel ebrated the event in some of his best verses, of which the following is a single stanza :

"England's high chancellor, the destined heir,
In the soft cradle of his father's chair,
Whose every thread, the fates spin round and full,
Out of their choicest and their whitest wool."

Bacon's literary reputation was not less brilliant than his political and professional fame. He was aware that his great work, the Organon, in which he set forth principles of philosophy which were to guide future ages, was one which would startle the world by the novelty of its doctrines, and perhaps subject him to temporary reproach. He elaborated it with the utmost care, and copied and revised it through. out no less than twelve times. Taking advantage of his present elevated position, he ventured upon publication.

its

This work has now taken its rank among the highest productions of the human mind; but it was at first received with mingled sneers and admiration. Wits and geniuses turned it into ridicule. Dr. Andrews, a wag of the time, wrote some doggrel lines, in which he spoke of St. Albans, which furnished Bacon his title, as on the high road to Duncetable-that is, Dunstable! The pedantic king, who was sadly both ered with the book, said it "like the was

peace

of

God-that passeth all understanding!" Sir Edmund Coke wrote in the title page, under the device of a ship

"It deserveth not to be read in schools,

Ben

But to be freighted in the ship of fools." Bacon was, however, understood by some. Jonson, soon after his lordship's death, spoke of the work in exalted terms, and Sir Henry Walton, who had received a copy from the author, wrote to him as follows: "Your lordship hath done a great and everlasting benefit to all the children of nature and to nature herself-who never before had so noble and so true an interpreter." On the continent, the work was still more favorably received than at home.

But from this point, the sun of Bacon declined, and soon set forever. While he was seeking with anxious care and patient toil to establish his literary reputation, he was laying the train which would ere long explode, and blacken his name with everlasting infamy. He had run into a course of lavish expen. ditures, and though his income was enormous, it was still insufficient to supply his wants. He became unscrupulous as to the means in which he obtained money; his principles were undermined; and at last he did not scruple to use his official power to replenish his purse.

In consequence of an inquiry set on foot by the House of Commons, several cases came to light, in which he had received large bribes as judge of the court of chancery. The first was that of a poor gentleman of the name of Aubury, who, finding his suit

in chancery going on with a ruinous slowness, was advised to quicken it by a gift to the lord chancellor. In his anxiety and distress, he borrowed a hundred pounds from an usurer. Lord Bacon received the money from Sir George Hastings and Mr. Jenkins, who assured the poor and anxious suitor, in his lordship's name, of thankfulness and success. however, was decided against him. When the chancellor heard the complaints of his victim, he sent for his friend, Sir George Hastings, and entreated him, with many professions of affection and esteem, to stay the clamor of the poor man he had cheated.

The case,

The evidence in the next case deepened the color of the chancellor's guilt. Mr. Egerton had several suits pending in chancery against Sir Rowland Egerton, and under the name of an expression of gratitude for past services, he presented the chancellor with three hundred pounds. The case accordingly went in Egerton's favor, until the opposite and losing party expressed his gratitude also to the judge in the shape of four hundred pounds; when the superiority of four over three, turned the scales of equity against him!

On one of these occasions, when the judge's deci sion was prepared, though not actually delivered, the influence of a bribe, bestowed in the nick of time, induced the chancellor to reverse his decree! The lady Wharton, hearing that her suit was likely to go against her, was too clever and high-spirited a woman to be defeated without a struggle. She wrought a with her own hands, and having filled it with purse one hundred pounds, she waited on Bacon at his apartments, and begged his acceptance of a purse of

her own making. The chancellor was, of course, too gallant a gentleman to refuse anything from the hands of so fair a lady, and she gained her cause!

The discussion in the commons issued in referring the whole of the case to the peers, the only authority competent to subject him to trial. The king told a deputation of the commons to proceed fearlessly, whatever might be the consequences, and whoever might be implicated; but he felt exceedingly for the chancellor, received him with undiminished affection, and ordered a short recess of parliament, to give him time for his defence.

The spirit of Bacon was crushed within him. His servants were, undoubtedly, the agents who sought out the victims of his corruption, and induced them to tempt their master; and it is equally undoubted that he was himself ruined by the rapacity and extravagance in which he permitted them to indulge. During the investigation of the charges, when Bacon one day entered his house, and his costly menials rose up and saluted him, he said bitterly, "Sit down, my masters; your rise has been my fall." He was great even in such circumstances, and the native dignity of his mind shone out even through the disgrace in which he had clothed himself.

There is something inexpressibly touching in the contrition which he expressed in the general confession which he first sent to the lords, appointed to try him. This, however, did not satisfy the indignation of his judges. They demanded a particular confession of each charge by itself, and a specification of the minute details of his meanness and guilt. This

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