guage must to a great extent, have been common be- | whole country into confusion for objects purely per tween the Queen's Counsel and the Knight of the sonal. Still, it is impossible not to be deeply interested Shire.

for a man so brave, high spirited, and generous ;-for a man who, while he conducted himself towards his sovereign with a boldness such as was then found in no other subject, conducted himself towards his dependants with a delicacy such as has rarely been found in any other patron. Unlike the vulgar herd of benefactors, he desired to inspire, not gratitude, but affection. He tried to make those whom he befriended feel towards him as towards an equal. His mind, ardent, susceptible, naturally disposed to admiration of all that is great and beautiful, was fascinated by the genius and the accomplishments of Bacon. A close friendship was soon formed between them,-a friendship destined to have a dark, a mournful, a shameful end.

Bacon tried to play a very difficult game in politics. He wished to be at once a favorite at Court and popular with the multitude. If any man could have succeeded in this attempt, a man of talents so rare, of judgment so prematurely ripe, of temper so calm, and of manners so plausible, might have been expected to succeed. Nor indeed did he wholly fail. Once, however, he indulged in a burst of patriotism which cost him a long and bitter remorse, and which he never ventured to repeat. The Court asked for large subsidies, and for speedy payment. The remains of Bacon's speech breathe all the spirit of the Long Parliament. "The gentlemen," said he, "must sell their plate, and the farmers their brass pots, ere this will be paid; and for In 1594 the office of Attorney-General became vacant, us, we are here to search the wounds of the realm, and and Bacon hoped to obtain it. Essex made his friend's not to skin them over. The dangers are these. First, | cause his own,-sued, expostulated, promised, threatwe shall breed discontent and endanger her Majesty's ened,—but all in vain. It is probable that the dislike safety, which must consist more in the love of the peo- felt by the Cecils for Bacon had been increased by the ple than their wealth. Secondly, this being granted in connexion which he had lately formed with the Earl. this sort, other princes hereafter will look for the like; Robert was then on the point of being made Secretary of so that we shall put an evil precedent on ourselves and State. He happened one day to be in the same coach on our posterity; and in histories, it is to be observed, with Essex, and a remarkable conversation took place of all nations the English are not to be subject, base, or between them. "My Lord," said Sir Robert, "the taxable." The Queen and her ministers resented this Queen has determined to appoint an Attorney-General outbreak of public spirit in the highest manner. In- without more delay. I pray your Lordship to let me "I wonder at your deed, many an honest member of the House of Com-know whom you will favor." mons had, for a much smaller matter, been sent to the question," replied the Earl. "You cannot but know Tower by the proud and hot-blooded Tudors. The that resolutely, against all the world, I stand for your "Good Lord!" cried Cecil, young patriot condescended to make the most abject cousin, Francis Bacon." apologies. He adjured the Lord Treasurer to show unable to bridle his temper, "I wonder your Lordship some favor to his poor servant and ally. He bemoaned should spend your strength on so unlikely a matter. Can himself to the Lord Keeper, in a letter which may keep you name one precedent of so raw a youth promoted to in countenance the most unmanly of the epistles which so great a place?" This objection came with a singularly Cicero wrote during his banishment. The lesson was bad grace from a man who, though younger than Bacon, not thrown away. Bacon never offended in the same was in daily expectation of being made Secretary of manner again. State. The blot was too obvious to be missed by Essex, who seldom forebore to speak his mind. "I have made no search," said he, "for precedents of young men who have filled the office of Attorney-General; but I could

He was now satisfied that he had little to hope from the patronage of those powerful kinsmen whom he had solicited during twelve years with such meek pertinacity; and he began to look towards a different quar-name to you, Sir Robert, a man younger than Francis, ter. Among the courtiers of Elizabeth, had lately appeared a new favorite,-young, noble, wealthy, accomplished, eloquent, brave, generous, aspiring,-a favorite who had obtained from the grey-headed queen such marks of regard as she had scarce vouchsafed to Leicester in the season of the passions; who was at once the ornament of the palace and the idol of the city; who was the common patron of men of letters and of men of the sword; who was the common refuge of the persecuted Catholic and of the persecuted Puritan. The calm prudence which had enabled Burleigh to shape his course through so many dangers, and the vast experience which he had acquired in dealing with two generations of colleagues and rivals, seemed scarcely sufficient to support him in this new competition; and Robert Cecil sickened with fear and envy as he contemplated the rising fame and influence of ESSEX.

less learned, and equally inexperiened, who is suing and striving with all his might for an office of far greater weight." Sir Robert had nothing to say but that he thought his own abilities equal to the place which he hoped to obtain; and that his father's long services deserved such a mark of gratitude from the Queen,-as if his abilities were comparable to his cousin's, or as if Sir Nicholas Bacon had done no service to the State. Cecil then hinted that if Bacon would be satisfied with the Solicitorship, that might be of easier digestion to the Queen. Digest me no digestions," said the generous and ardent Earl. "The Attorneyship for Francis is that I must have; and in that I will spend all my power, might, authority, and amity; and with tooth and nail procure the same for him against whomsoever; and whosoever gefteth this office out of my hands for any other, before he have it, it shall cost Nothing in the political conduct of Essex entitles him him the coming by. And this be you assured of, Sir to esteem; and the pity with which we regard his Robert, for now I fully declare myself; and for my early and terrible end, is diminished by the considera-own part, Sir Robert, I think strange both of Lord tion, that he put to hazard the lives and fortunes of his Treasurer and you, that can have the mind to seek the most attached friends, and endeavored to throw the preference of a stranger before so near a kinsman; for

my

if you weigh in a balance the parts every way of his indeed was kind to him in more ways than one. She competitor and him, only excepting five poor years of rejected him, and she accepted his enemy. She maradmitting to a house of court before Francis, you shall|ried that narrow-minded, bad-hearted pedant, Sir Edfind in all other respects whatsoever no comparison be- ward Coke, and did her best to make him as miserable tween them." as he deserved to be.

The fortunes of Essex had now reached their height, and began to decline. The person on whom, during the decline of his influence, he chiefly depended,―to whom

whose intercession he employed,-was his friend Bacon. The lamentable truth must be told. This friend, so loved, so trusted, bore a principal part in ruining the Earl's fortunes, in shedding his blood, and in blackening his memory.

But let us be just to Bacon. We believe that, to the last, he had no wish to injure Essex. Nay, we believe that he sincerely exerted himself to serve Essex, as long as he thought he could serve Essex without injuring himself. The advice which he gave to his

When the office of Attorney-General was filled up, the Earl pressed the Queen to make Bacon SolicitorGeneral, and, on this occasion, the old Lord Treasurer professed himself not unfavorable to his nephew's pre-he confided his perplexities, whose advice he solicited, tensions. But after a contest which lasted more than a year and a half, and in which Essex, to use his own words, "spent all his power, might, authority, and amity," the place was given to another. Essex felt this disappointment keenly, but found consolation in the most munificent and delicate liberality. He presented Bacon with an estate, worth near two thousand pounds, situated at Twickenham; and this, as Bacon owned many years after, "with so kind and noble circumstances, as the manner was worth more than the matter." It was soon after these events that Bacon first ap-noble benefactor was generally most judicious. He peared before the public as a writer. Early in 1597 he published a small volume of Essays, which was afterwards enlarged, by successive editions, to many times its original bulk. This little work was, as it well deserved to be, exceedingly popular. It was reprinted in a few months; it was translated into Latin, French and Italian, and it seems to have at once established the literary reputation of its author. But though Bacon's reputation rose, his fortunes were still depressed. He was in great pecuniary difficulties; and on one occasion was arrested in the street at the suit of a goldsmith, for a debt of 300l., and was carried to a spunging-house in Coleman street.

did all in his power to dissuade the Earl from accepting the Government of Ireland. “For," says he, “I did as plainly see his overthrow, chained as it were by destiny to that journey, as it is possible for a man to ground a judgment upon future contingents." The prediction was accomplished. Essex returned in disgrace. Bacon attempted to mediate between his friend and the Queen; and, we believe, honestly employed all his address for that purpose. But the task which he had undertaken was too difficult, delicate, and perilous, even for so wary and dexterous an agent. He had to manage two spirits equally proud, resentful, and ungovernable. At Essex House, he had to calm the rage of a young hero, in

The kindness of Essex was in the meantime inde-censed by multiplied wrongs and humiliations; and fatigable. In 1596 he sailed on his memorable expedi- then to pass to Whitehall for the purpose of soothing tion to the coast of Spain. At the very moment of his the peevishness of a sovereign, whose temper, never embarkation, he wrote to several of his friends, com- very gentle, had been rendered morbidly irritable by mending to them, during his own absence, the interests age, by declining health, and by the long habit of lisof Bacon. He returned, after performing the most bril-tening to flattery and exacting implicit obedience. It liant military exploit that was achieved on the Conti- is hard to serve two masters. Situated as Bacon was, nent by English arms, during the long interval which it was scarcely possible for him to shape his course, so elapsed between the battle of Agincourt and that of as not to give one or both of his employers reason to Blenheim. His valor, his talents, his humane and gene- complain. For a time he acted as fairly as, in circumrous disposition, had made him the idol of his country-stances so embarrassing, could reasonably be expected. men, and had extorted praise from the enemies whom | At length, he found that while he was trying to prop he had conquered. He had always been proud and the fortunes of another, he was in danger of shaking headstrong; and his splendid success seems to have rendered his faults more offensive than ever. But to his friend Francis he was still the same, Bacon had some thoughts of making his fortune by marriage; and had begun to pay court to a widow of the name of Hatton. The eccentric manners and violent temper of this woman, made her a disgrace and a torment to her connections. But Bacon was not aware of her faults, or was disposed to overlook them for the sake of her ample fortune. Essex pleaded his friend's cause with his usual ardor. The letters which the Earl addressed to Lady Hatton and to her mother are still extant, and are highly honorable to him. "If," he wrote, "she were my sister or my daughter, I protest I would as confidently resolve to further it as I now persuade you." And again" If my faith be anything, I protest, if I had one as near me as she is to you, I had rather match her with him, than with men of far greater titles." The suit, happily for Bacon, was unsuccessful. The lady

his own. He had disobliged both the parties whom he wished to reconcile. Essex thought him wanting in zeal as a friend-Elizabeth thought him wanting in duty as a subject. The Earl looked on him as a spy of the Queen, the Queen as a creature of the Earl. The reconciliation which he had labored to effect appeared utterly hopeless. A thousand signs, legible to eyes far less keen than his, announced that the fall of his patron was at hand. He shaped his course accordingly. When Essex was brought before the council to answer for his conduct in Ireland, Bacon, after a faint attempt to excuse himself from taking part against his friend, submitted himself to the Queen's pleasure, and appeared at the bar in support of the charges. But a darker scene was behind. The unhappy young nobleman, made reckless by despair, ventured on a rash and criminal enterprise, which rendered him liable to the highest penalties of the law, What course was Bacon to take? This was one of those conjunctures which show what

The real explanation of all this is perfectly obvious; and nothing but a partiality amounting to a ruling passion, could cause any body to miss it. The moral qualities of Bacon were not of a high order. We do not say that he was a bad man. He was not inhuman or tyrannical. He bore with meekness his high civil honors, and the far higher honors gained by his intellect. He was very seldom, if ever, provoked into treating any person with malignity and insolence. No man more readily held up the left cheek to those who had smitten the right. No man was more expert at the soft answer which turneth away wrath. He was never accused of intemperance in his pleasures. His even temper, his flowing courtesy, the general respectability of his demeanor, made a favorable impression on those who saw him in situations which do not severely try the principles. His faults were-we write it with paincoldness of heart and meanness of spirit. He seems to have been incapable of feeling strong affection, of facing great dangers, of making great sacrifices. His desires were set on things below. Wealth, precedence, titles, patronage,-the mace, the seals, the coronet,-large houses, fair gardens, rich manors, massy services of plate, gay hangings, curious cabinets,-had as great

men are. To a highminded man, wealth, power, court-mations. She thought it expedient to publish a vindifavor, even personal safety, would have appeared of no cation of her late proceedings. The faithless friend account, when opposed to friendship, gratitude, and who had assisted in taking the Earl's life was now honor. Such a man would have stood by the side of employed to murder the Earl's fame. The Queen had Essex at the trial,-would have "spent all his power, seen some of Bacon's writings, and had been pleased might, authority, and amity,” in soliciting a mitigation with them. He was accordingly selected to write “A of the sentence, would have been a daily visiter at Declaration of the practices and treasons attempted the cell,—would have received the last injunctions and and committed by Robert, Earl of Essex," which was the last embrace on the scaffold,--would have employed printed by authority. In the succeeding reign, Bacon all the powers of his intellect to guard from insult the had not a word to say in defence of this performancefame of his generous, though erring friend. An ordi- a performance, abounding in expressions which no nary man would neither have incurred the danger of generous enemy would have employed respecting a succoring Essex, nor the disgrace of assailing him. man who had so dearly expiated his offences. His Bacon did not even preserve neutrality. He appeared only excuse was, that he wrote it by command,—that as counsel for the prosecution. In that situation, he he considered himself as a mere secretary,-that he did not confine himself to what would have been amply had particular instructions as to the way in which he sufficient to procure a verdict. He employed all his was to treat every part of the subject,--and that, in wit, his rhetoric, and his learning,-not to ensure a fact, he had furnished only the arrangement and the conviction, for the circumstances were such that a con- style. viction was inevitable,-but to deprive the unhappy prisoner of all those excuses which, though legally of no value, yet tended to diminish the moral guilt of the crime; and which, therefore, though they could not justify the peers in pronouncing an acquittal, might incline the Queen to grant a pardon. The Earl urged as a palliation of his frantic acts, that he was surrounded by powerful and inveterate enemies, that they | had ruined his fortunes, that they sought his life, and that their persecutions had driven him to despair. This was true, and Bacon well knew it to be true. But he affected to treat it as an idle pretence. He compared Essex to Pisistratus, who, by pretending to be in imminent danger of assassination, and by exhibiting selfinflicted wounds, succeeded in establishing tyranny at Athens. This was too much for the prisoner to bear. He interrupted his ungrateful friend, by calling on him to quit the part of an advocate,-to come forward as a witness, and tell the Lords whether, in old times, he, Francis Bacon, had not under his own hand, repeatedly asserted the truth of what he now represented as idle pretexts. It is painful to go on with this lamentable story. Bacon returned a shuffling answer to the Earl's question: and, as if the allusion to Pisistratus were not sufficiently offensive, made another allusion still more un-attractions for him as for any of the courtiers who justifiable. He compared Essex to Henry Duke of Guise, and the rash attempt in the city, to the day of the barricades at Paris. Why Bacon had recourse to such a topic, it is difficult to say. It was quite unnecessary for the purpose of obtaining a verdict. It was certain to pro-and endured everything. For these he had sued in the duce a strong impression on the mind of the haughty humblest manner, and when unjustly and ungraciously and jealous princess on whose pleasure the Earl's fate repulsed, had thanked those who had repulsed him, depended. The faintest allusion to the degrading tute- and had begun to sue again. For these objects, as soon lage in which the last Valois had been held by the as he found that the smallest show of independence in house of Lorraine, was sufficient to harden her heart Parliament was offensive to the Queen, he had abased against a man who in rank, in military reputation, in himself to the dust before her, and implored forgivepopularity among the citizens of the capital, bore some ness, in terms better suited to a convicted thief than to resemblance to the Captain of the League. Essex was a knight of the shire. For these he joined, and for convicted. Bacon made no effort to save him, though these he forsook Lord Essex. He continued to plead the Queen's feelings were such, that he might have his patron's cause with the Queen, as long as he thought pleaded his benefactor's cause, possibly with success, that by pleading that cause he might serve himself. certainly without any serious danger to himself. The Nay, he went further--for his feelings, though not unhappy nobleman was executed. His fate excited warm, were kind-he pleaded that cause as long as he strong, perhaps unreasonable feelings of compassion thought he could plead it without injury to himself. and indignation. The Queen was received by the But when it became evident that Essex was going headcitizens of London with gloomy looks and faint accla-long to his ruin, Bacon began to tremble for his own

dropped on their knees in the dirt when Elizabeth passed by, and then hastened home to write to the King of Scots that her Grace seemed to be breaking fast. For these objects he had stooped to everything

fortunes. What he had to fear would not indeed have been very alarming to a man of lofty character. It was not death. It was not imprisonment. It was the loss of court favor. It was the being left behind by others in the career of ambition. It was the having leisure to finish the Instauratio Magna. The Queen looked coldly on him. The courtiers began to consider him as a marked man. He determined to change his line of conduct, and to proceed in a new course with so much vigor as to make up for lost time. When once he had determined to act against his friend, knowing himself to be suspected, he acted with more zeal than would have been necessary or justifiable if he had been employed against a stranger. He exerted his professional talents to shed the Earl's blood, and his literary talents to blacken the Earl's memory. It is certain that his conduct excited at the time great and general disapprobation. While Elizabeth lived, indeed, this disapprobation, though deeply felt, was not loudly expressed. But a great change was at hand.

Bacon was favorably received at Court; and soon found that his chance of promotion was not diminished by the death of the Queen. He was solicitous to be knighted-for two reasons-which are somewhat amusing. The King had already dubbed half London, and Bacon found himself the only untitled person in his mess at Gray's Inn. This was not very agreeable to him. He had also, to quote his own words, "found an Alderman's daughter, a handsome maiden, to his liking." On both these grounds, he begged his cousin Robert Cecil, "if it might please his good Lordship" to use his interest in his behalf. The application was successful. Bacon was one of three hundred gentlemen who, on the coronation-day, received the honor, if it is to be so called, of knighthood. The handsome maiden, a daughter of Alderman Barnham, soon after consented to become Sir Francis's lady.

The unfavorable impression which Bacon's conduct had made, appears to have been gradually effaced. Indeed it must be some very peculiar cause that can make The health of the Queen had long been decaying; a man like him long unpopular. His talents secured and the operation of age and disease was now assisted him from contempt, his temper and his manners from by acute mental suffering. The pitiable melancholy of hatred. There is scarcely any story so black that it her last days has generally been ascribed to her fond may not be got over by a man of great abilities, whose regret for Essex. But we are disposed to attribute her abilities are united with caution, good-humor, patience, dejection partly to physical causes, and partly to the and affability,-who pays daily sacrifice to Nemesis, conduct of her courtiers and ministers. They did all who is a delightful companion, a serviceable though not in their power to conceal from her the intrigues which an ardent friend, and a dangerous yet a placable enemy. they were carrying on at the Court of Scotland. But Waller in the next generation was an eminent instance her keen sagacity was not to be so deceived. She did of this. Indeed Waller had much more than may at not know the whole. But she knew that she was sur-first sight appear in common with Bacon. To the higher rounded by men who were impatient for that new world intellectual qualities of the great English philosopher,— which was to begin at her death,--who had never been to the genius which has made an immortal epoch in the attached to her by affection,--and who were now but history of science,-Waller had indeed no pretensions. very slightly attached to her by interest. Prostration But the mind of Waller, as far as it extended, coincided and flattery could not conceal from her the cruel truth, with that of Bacon, and might, so to speak, have been that those whom she had trusted and promoted had cut out of that of Bacon. In the qualities which make never loved her, and were fast ceasing to fear her. a man an object of interest and veneration to posterity, Unable to avenge herself, and too proud to complain, there was no comparison between them. But in the she suffered sorrow and resentment to prey on her qualities by which chiefly a man is known to his conheart, till, after a long career of power, prosperity and temporaries, there was a striking similarity. Considered glory, she died, sick and weary of the world. as men of the world, as courtiers, as politicians, as associates, as allies, as enemies, they had nearly the same merits and the same defects. They were not malignant. They were not tyrannical. But they wanted warmth of affection and elevation of sentiment. There were many things which they loved better than virtue, and which they feared more than guilt. Yet after they had stooped to acts of which it is impossible to read the account in the most partial narratives without strong disapprobation and contempt, the public still continued to regard them with a feeling not easily to be distinguished from esteem. The hyperbole of Juliet seemed to be verified with respect to them. "Upon their brows shame was ashamed to sit." Every body seemed as desirous to throw a veil over their misconduct as if it had been his own. Clarendon, who felt, and who had reason to feel, strong personal dislike towards Waller, speaks of him thus:-"There needs no more to be said to extol the excellence and power of his wit and pleasantness of his conversation, than that it was of magnitude enough to cover a world of very great faults,--that is, so to cover them that they were not taken notice of to his reproach, viz., a narrowness in his nature to the lowest degree,-an abjectness and want of courage to support him in

James mounted the throne; and Bacon employed all his address to obtain for himself a share of the favor of his new master. This was no difficult task. The faults of James, both as a man and as a prince, were numerous; but insensibility to the claims of genius and learning was not amongst them. He was indeed made up of two men,—a witty, well-read scholar, who wrote, disputed, and harangued, and a nervous drivelling idiot, who acted. If he had been a Canon of Christ Church, or a Prebendary of Westminster, it is not improbable that he would have left a highly respectable name to posterity, that he would have distinguished himself among the translators of the Bible, and among the Divines who attended the Synod of Dort,-that he would have been regarded by the literary world as no contemptible rival of Vossius and Casaubon. But fortune placed him in a situation in which his weakness covered him with disgrace; and in which his accomplishments brought him no honor. In a college, much eccentricity and childishness would have been readily pardoned in so learned a man. But all that learning could do for him on the throne, was to make people think him a pedant as well as a fool.

quality. Nor did these pursuits distract Bacon's attention from a work the most arduous, the most glorious, and the most useful that even his mighty powers could have achieved, "the reducing and re-compiling," to use his own phrase, "of the laws of England."

any virtuous undertaking,—an insinuating and servile | 1612 a new edition of the "Essays" appeared, with addiflattery to the height the vainest and most imperious tions surpassing the original collection both in bulk and nature could be contented with. . . . It had power to reconcile him to those whom he had most offended and provoked, and continued to his age with that rare felicity, that his company was acceptable where his spirit was odious, and he was at least pitied where he was most detested.' Much of this, with some softening, Unhappily he was at that very time employed in might, we fear, be applied to Bacon. The influence of perverting those laws to the vilest purposes of tyranny. Waller's talents, manners, and accomplishments, died When Oliver St. John was brought before the Star with him; and the world has pronounced an unbiassed Chamber for maintaining that the King had no right to sentence on his character. A few flowing lines are not levy benevolences, and was for his manly and constitubribe sufficient to pervert the judgment of posterity. tional conduct sentenced to imprisonment during the But the influence of Bacon is felt and will long be felt royal pleasure, and to a fine of five thousand pounds, over the whole civilized world. Leniently as he was Bacon appeared as counsel for the prosecution. About treated by his contemporaries, posterity has treated him the same time he was deeply engaged in a still more more leniently still. Turn where we may, the trophies disgraceful transaction. An aged clergyman, of the of that mighty intellect are full in view. We are judg-name of Peacham, was accused of treason, on account ing Manlius in sight of the Capitol.

of some passages of a sermon which was found in his study. The sermon, whether written by him or not, had never been preached. It did not appear that he had any intention of preaching it. The most servile lawyers of those servile times were forced to admit that there were great difficulties both as to the facts and as to the law. Bacon was employed to remove those difficulties. He was employed to settle the question of law by tampering with the Judges, and the question of fact by torturing the prisoner. Three Judges of the Court of King's Bench were tractable. But Coke was made of different stuff. Pedant, bigot, and savage as he was, he had qualities which bore a strong, though a very disagreeable resemblance to some of the highest virtues which a public man can possess. He was an exception to a maxim which we believe to be generally true,— that those who trample on the helpless are disposed to cringe to the powerful. He behaved with gross rudeness to his juniors at the bar, and with execrable cruelty to prisoners on trial for their lives. But he stood up manfully against the King and the King's favorites.

when he was opposed to an inferior, and was in the wrong. But, on the other hand, it is but fair to admit that no man of that age made so creditable a figure when he was opposed to a superior, and happened to

Under the reign of James, Bacon grew rapidly in fortune and favor. In 1604 he was appointed King's Counsel, with a fee of forty pounds a-year; and a pension of sixty pounds a-year was settled upon him. In 1607 he became Solicitor-General; in 1612 AttorneyGeneral. He continued to distinguish himself in Parliament, particularly by his exertions in favor of one excellent measure on which the King's heart was set, the union of England and Scotland. It was not difficult for such an intellect to discover many irresistible arguments in favor of such a scheme. He conducted the great case of the Post Nati in the Exchequer Chamber; and the decision of the judges,--a decision the legality of which may be questioned, but the beneficial effect of which must be acknowledged,—was in a great measure attributed to his dexterous management. While actively engaged in the House of Commons and in the courts of law, he still found leisure for letters and philosophy. The noble treatise on the "Advancement of Learning," which at a later period was expanded into the De Augmentis, appeared in 1605. The "Wisdom of the An-No man of that age appeared to so little advantage cients," a work which, if it had proceeded from any other writer, would have been considered as a masterpiece of wit and learning, but which adds little to the fame of Bacon, was printed in 1609. In the mean time the Novum Organum was slowly proceeding. Several | be in the right. On such occasions, his half-suppressed distinguished men of learning had been permitted to see insolence and his impracticable obstinacy, had a respectsketches or detached portions of that extraordinary able and interesting appearance, when compared with book; and though they were not generally disposed to the abject servility of the bar and of the bench. On the admit the soundness of the author's views, they spoke present occasion he was stubborn and surly. He dewith the greatest admiration of his genius. Sir Thomas clared that it was a new and a highly improper pracBodley, the founder of the most magnificent of English tice in the Judges, to confer with a law-officer of the libraries, was among those stubborn Conservatives who crown about capital cases which they were afterwards considered the hopes with which Bacon looked forward to try; and for some time he resolutely kept aloof. But to the future destinies of the human race as utterly chi- Bacon was equally artful and persevering. "I am not merical; and who regarded with distrust and aversion wholly out of hope," said he, in a letter to the King, the innovating spirit of the new schismatics in philoso- "that my Lord Coke himself, when I have in some dark phy. Yet even Bodley after perusing the Cogitata et manner put him in doubt that he shall be left alone, Visa-one of the most precious of those scattered leaves will not be singular." After some time, Bacon's dexteout of which the great oracular volume was afterwards rity was successful; and Coke, sullenly and reluctantly, made up-acknowledged that in "those very points, followed the example of his brethren. But in order to and in all proposals and plots in that book, Bacon convict Peacham, it was necessary to find facts as well showed himself a master-workman ;" and that "it could as law. Accordingly, this wretched old man was put not be gainsaid but all the treatise over did abound with to the rack; and, while undergoing the horrible inflicchoice conceits of the present state of learning, and with tion, was examined by Bacon, but in vain. No confesworthy contemplations of the means to procure it." Insion could be wrung out of him; and Bacon wrote to