enthusiasm of thought, and not from ambition to startle and amaze. He therefore represents Bacon as far guiltier of practical abuses, and far bolder in speculative innovation, than the calm, sober student of his life and works would ever imagine him to be. To make good this representation, everything doubtful or reprehensible in Bacon's conduct (and that there was much of this, probably none will deny) is strangely exaggerated and overstrained; while at the same time everything, both personal and circumstantial, that would go to temper and moderate and relieve the bad impression, (for there was much of this also,) is as strangely overlooked or suppressed.

Though Bacon's character should in no wise be held up as a model of virtue and honor, neither can it with any justice be set forth as a special mark of abhorrence or contempt. Morally, he does not appear to have been much, if at all, in advance of his age; though we suspect it would be found, on due examination, that there were many public men of the time below him, where there was one above him, in this respect. He was not only greatly admired as a thinker, but deeply loved and honored as a man, by many of the best and purest men of the age; which could hardly have been the case but that, with all his blemishes, he had great moral and social virtues. Though often straitened for means, he was always very generous to his servants: his temper and carriage were eminently gentle and humane: he

was

never accused of insolence to any human being, which is the common pleasure of mean-spirited men: he did all that wisdom and friendship could do to keep Essex and Villiers out of crime, and never deserted either of them until other and higher attachments compelled him: his conduct in Parliament was always manly, his views as a legislator were liberal, and leaning strongly towards improvement;

and if on one occasion he crouched more than we might wish under the stern rebuke of the queen, it was no more than the whole House of Commons had often done before him: it is not pretended that he ever gave an unjust or illegal judgment as chancellor his private life was blameless, and abounding in works of piety and charity and his losing the favor, if in

deed he did not incur the anger, of the king and Buckingham, when they were in the full career of rapacity and corruption, should perhaps be taken as proof that he had resisted them as much as he could without losing the power to resist them at all. Hallam, who is far enough from sparing Bacon's faults, and whose censure sometimes appears to verge upon excessive severity, admits, however, that "with all his pliancy, there are fewer overstrained expressions about the prerogative in his political writings than we should expect ;" and that, "though his practice was servile, his principles were not unconstitutional;"* which is no slight praise for a statesman of those times. And one might hesitate to believe that "the meanest of mankind" could have written the following to a favorite of James I; especially, considering how much power that favorite had to crush whom he feared, and how much reason to fear one that told him the truth: As far as it may lie in you, let no arbitrary power be intruded; the people of this kingdom love the laws thereof, and nothing will oblige them more than a confidence of the free enjoying of them; what the nobles upon an occasion once said in Parliament, Nolumus leges Angliæ mutare,' is imprinted in the hearts of all the people." From this and other like passages we may perhaps infer why that accomplished profligate joined in crushing so wise and just a counsellor. With an imperious master, a rapacious minister, and a servile court, it strikes us as rather a matter of grief than of wonder that Bacon should have stooped to some unworthy and ill-favored compliances; and when we duly weigh the temptations. of his place, perhaps we shall conclude it better to pray that we be not led into similar temptations, than to censure him too harshly for yielding to them.

One of Mr. Macaulay's severest charges against Bacon is for writing the "Declaration of the Treasons of Robert, Earl of Essex." The earl, he informs us, was a great favorite with the people, and "his fate excited strong, perhaps unreasonable feelings of compassion and indignation. The queen was received by the citizens of

*Constitutional History, p. 206, note, Harpers. Advice to Sir George Villiers.

London with gloomy looks and faint acclamations. She thought it expedient to publish a vindication of the late proceedings;" and she imposed upon Bacon the task of drawing up that vindication. Mr. Macaulay does not question the truth of what Bacon afterwards alleged in excuse of the act, "that he wrote it by command; that he considered himself as a mere secretary; and that he was not answerable for the matter of the book, he having furnished only the arrangement and the style." But the pith of the censure is, "Why did he endow such a purpose with words? Could no hack-writer, without virtue or shame, be found to exaggerate the errors, already so dearly expiated, of a gentle and noble spirit ?"

A thing bearing some resemblance to this was done after the execution of Charles I. This act, as everybody knows, was received by the nation with one long, loud, deep, agonized groan of horror and execration; whereupon the "patriots" "thought it expedient to publish a vindication of the late proceedings." The person pitched upon for the work was John Milton, who probably has the merit of furnishing both the matter and the style of a book enriched with such passages as this: "But Charles murdered both his prince and his father, and that by poison. For, to omit other evidences; he that would not suffer a duke, that was accused for it, to come to his trial, must needs have been guilty of it himself." Of this performance, Mr. Mr. Macaulay says:

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Though we think the conduct of the regicides blameable, that of Milton appears to us in a very different light. The deed was done. It could not be undone. The evil was incurred; and the object was to render it as small as possible. We censure the chiefs of the army for not yielding to the popular opinion; but we cannot censure Milton for wishing to change that opinion. For the sake of public liberty, we wish that the thing had not been done, while the people disapproved of it. But for the sake of public liberty, we should also have wished the people to approve of it, when it was done."§

* Essays, p. 258. + Ib., p. 255. Prose Work, vol. ii., p. 81. Philadelphia, § Essays, p. 14.

1847.

Now we bring up these two cases, not so much for the purpose of justifying either Bacon or Milton, as of showing the singular pliancy and versatility of Mr. Macaulay's logic. Can it be believed that a man who was governed by firm principle, and was not in some degree the servant of occasion, would so contradict himself on a mere change of persons. Mr. Macaulay cannot well deny that the execution of Essex was lawful, while that of Charles was in utter violation of law. Why, then, if knowledge seasoned with charity was his object, could he not add that the execution of the earl, whether just or not, and whatever may be thought of the part Bacon took in his trial, was done, and could not be recalled; and it could not be very criminal in a minister of state to endeavor to prevent the evils likely to arise from the ignorance and anger of the people? Why should he brand the act of Bacon as an effort to murder the fame of one who had already expiated his offenses, and yet praise the act of Milton as the endeavor of a patriot to appease the ravings of servility and superstition ?" As to these two vindications, we confess our judgment of the writers would depend a good deal on whether they told the truth; whether in the pursuit of good ends, or ends which they may have thought to be good, they were careful to use none but just and honorable means; though we are apt to question the virtue of a purpose that requires or prompts the use of bad means: and on this score, we apprehend the issue would not be much to the disadvantage of Bacon.

But the darkest passage in Bacon's life, as we think, and as Mr. Macaulay thinks, is that involved in the charge of bribery and corruption, which brought on his fall. Nor do we suppose any full justification of him in this matter can be fairly made out; but we see no reason why the illustrious sufferer should not have the benefit of counsel in procuring a mitigation of the penalty; and that, as well in respect of his character when dead, as of his person while living. Now it is quite notorious and unquestionable, that for chancellors to receive presents, both from suitors in chancery and from other persons, was customary and common in Bacon's time, and had been so for a hundred years, both

in England and in other European states. And indeed Mr. Macaulay allows this: That these practices were common, we admit. But they were common, just as all wickedness to which there is a strong temptation always was and always will be common. They were common, just as theft, cheating, perjury, adultery, have always been common."* But, surely, this is a very disingenuous and unbecoming piece of chicanery. For, if such things as theft, perjury and adultery were common, they were also uniformly regarded, and, when known and proved, punished as crimes; whereas the receiving of presents was not only common, but was so far from being looked upon as criminal or disreputable, that men of great general integrity and esteem were known to practice it; concealment was scarce attempted: nor does Mr. Macaulay produce, or so much as pretend, a single instance before Bacon wherein, common as was the practice, chancellor or other minister suffered loss of place or reputation under such a charge: only he asserts in general terms that the practice, though common, "was in the highest degree odious." To make good which assertion he cites a passage from honest "father Latimer," which, however, if it prove anything, proves the reverse of what it is cited for. The good bishop says: "Nowadays they call them gentle rewards. Let them leave their coloring, and call them by their Christian name, bribes." Why this should be quoted to prove that the practice "was in the highest degree edious," is not a little strange; the passage naturally inferring, what is known well enough from other sources, that the thing had grown so common as to be caressed under an euphuism. The bishop evidently saw with sorrow that a bad custom had become respectable; and he deserves credit for boldly endeavoring to remove it; but there is no evidence that his labor was at all successful. On the contrary, the practice seems to have continued and even increased down to the time of Bacon; the continual plundering of the Church stimulating the passion for wealth and expense much faster than the Reformation quickened the sensibility of

virtue and honor.

* Essays, p. 267. VOL. III. NO. V. NEW SERIES.

All which may indeed indicate a low standard of public morals, but not any peculiar guilt in one who did not rise above that standard. Undoubtedly it was "a custom more honored in the breach than in the observance;" yet those who complied with it are fairly entitled to all the mitigation that custom ordinarily brings. Nor does there appear any reason to doubt the truth of Bacon's words. to Buckingham: to Buckingham: "Howsoever I have acknowledged the sentence just, and for reformation fit, I have been the justest chancellor that hath been in the five changes since my father's time." It is true that Sir Thomas More in the reign of Henry VIII., and Sir Augustine Nicholls in the reign of James I., had the virtue to refuse such presents as Bacon and many others accepted. Yet the fact of presents being offered without offense to men of such clean hands and pure hearts, shows how general the custom was, and how far from being in the highest degree odious. Doubtless these righteous men should be mentioned with special honor for thus discountenancing the corruption of the times; but it does not follow that one should be branded with infamy for not being an exception to the general rule, when these exceptions were so rare and so distinguished.

It is pretty well known that upon taking the Seals Bacon relinquished a salary of £7,600 a year for one of only about £919, which was quite inadequate to his reasonable expenses, and was probably left so small in the expectation that it would be made up by the presents of those whom he served. For the practice in question seems to have grown up in part through default of sufficient public remuneration to official persons; so that there was some ground for regarding such presents rather as fees than as bribes. Moreover, it is not denied that of the twenty-two instances charged upon Bacon, in the greater number the presents were ceived long after the causes were ended; in some they were received before judgment was given indeed, but then the decisions were against the donors; and in others they were openly and publicly made. All which considered, there appears but little to hinder our crediting the sufferer's no less pathetic than penitent

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re

words: "For the briberies and gifts wherewith I am charged, when the book of hearts is laid open, I hope I shall not be found to have the troubled fountain of a corrupt heart, in a depraved habit of taking rewards to pervert justice; howsoever I may be frail, and partake of the abuses of the times."

To get over the cases wherein Bacon had given judgment against the donors, Mr. Macaulay resorts to the presumption that he had received still larger gifts from the other side. Which surely evinces rather the desire of an advocate to carry his cause, than the solicitude of a judge to decide fairly according to the facts before him. It is needless to dwell on the insecurity of the best man's reputation, if this method is to be followed. But this proceeding becomes doubly offensive when we remember (what Mr. Macaulay doubtless knew; or, if he did not, then his ignorance only aggravates his presumption,) the prodigious industry that was used in hunting up matter against this great man; insomuch that he complained: "But Job himself, or whosoever was the justest judge, by such hunting for matters against him as hath been used against me, may for a time seem foul; especially in a time when greatness is the mark, and accusation is the game. Now Bacon's enemies were so straitened for matter against him, that they saw fit to include things in which Mr. Macaulay admits "there was gross impropriety."

no

Yet the donors against whom Bacon had decided were at their service, and were openly interested in the prosecution; and of course they could not be ignorant who were on that other side from which still larger gifts had probably been received: nor is it easy to see how anything but a very ungenerous wish to make guilt where it was hardly to be found could suppose that in so great a scarcity of matter so sure and obvious a clue to other matter would have been left unemployed.

But the unhandsomest thing of all in Mr. Macaulay's special pleading on this subject, is his urging against Bacon the relinquishing his defense and the sending in his "humble submission instead thereof; when it is notorious that he did this at the posit.ve command of the king

and the urgent solicitation of the favorite. The constrained and reluctant giving up of his cause Mr. Macaulay resolutely attributes to consciousness of guilt and despair of success; and that, too, in the face (or was it in ignorance ?) of his express declaration: "The law of Nature teaches me to speak in my own defense. With respect to this charge of bribery I am as innocent as any born upon St Innocent's day. I never had bribe or reward in my eye or thought when pronouncing sentence or order. If, however, it is absolutely necessary, the king's will shall be obeyed." Nor can Bacon's compliance be fairly attributed to peculiar "meanness of spirit," considering the general obsequiousness and servility of the time, as was often shown by the Commons, perhaps the least obsequious and servile part of the nation.

The truth seems to be, that in the case of Bacon, as hath often happened in other cases, the accumulated faults of the office were visited on the individual incumbent. He had done far more official work than any former chancellor in the same space of time; nobody pretends that he had ever failed to do his work well; and his labors were rewarded, as eminent services are often rewarded in this world, with official disgrace and death; and that, too, for abuses which he certainly did not cause and probably could not cure. Nor, perhaps, could they have been effectually cured but by the destruction of the very man who was least guilty of them, and at the same time the greatest that had complied with them: by such a sacrifice they might indeed become so unspeakably odious, that even the worst men would take care to shun them. At the advice of Bacon himself was called together the parliament that crushed him. The parliament was hot and stout, as it had reason to be, against the maladministration of the state. But they were more just in their anger than discriminating as to its objects. They demanded victims, and were more concerned for the greatness than for the guilt of the persons sacrificed. Bacon, probably by his virtue, had already offended the favorite and through him had lost his former hold on the king. In some respects he would be a most acceptable sacrifice; for, whether guilty or not, the

very height whereon he stood would make his fall the more exemplary. There were enough that wanted the place, and to cover their own ambition they could easily pretend his corruption. Besides, if parliament could not get the chancellor, they might entertain the thought of striking higher. And, indeed, the king and Buckingham seem to have been apprehensive that Bacon might triumph, should he proceed in his own defense, (for who but an angel or a brute could be expected to resist so potent an enchanter, coming to the rescue of his good name?) in which case the popular resentment, sharpened by defeat, might turn to other objects and demand a dearer sacrifice. At all events, a sop for Cerberus" was indispensable.

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Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me :-
:-'tis surely for a name."

Nothing can be more unfair than to attribute the crushing of Bacon to any peculiar hatred of bribery; it sprung rather from the general and just resentment of the nation at the tyranny and rapacity of the government; a resentment that was right in striking, but wrong in the place where it struck. It is remarkable that some have argued the guilt of Bacon mainly from the fact of his being condemned. Yet the very next act of parliament was one which nobody thinks of defending, and of which Hallam says: "There is surely no instance in the annals of our own, and hardly of any civilized country, where a trifling offense, if it were one, has been visited with such

outrageous cruelty."* The case was this: one Floyd, a Catholic barrister, in speaking of the titular king and queen of Bohemia, who were Protestants, had expressed his satisfaction "that goodman Palsgrave and goodwife Palsgrave" had

* Constitutional History, p. 208. Harpers.

been driven from Prague. For which offense he was adjudged to be degraded from his gentility, and held an infamous person; to be pilloried four times for the space of two hours each time; to ride once from the Fleet to Cheapside and once to Westminster on horseback, with his face to the horse's tail; to be branded in the forehead with the letter K; to be whipped at the cart's tail from the Fleet to Westminster Hall; to pay a fine of £5000, and be imprisoned for life.* Perhaps this act of the parliament may serve to remind some people of the proceedings of the Star-chamber a few years afterwards. Are we to regard the punishment of Bacon and of Floyd as any just argument or measure of their guilt? The king endeavored to arrest the proceeding against Floyd; for parliament had not the least show of right to meddle in the matter at all; but his endeavors ended in greatly augmenting the severity of their sentence. Such was the scrupulous justice of parlia

ment in those times!

Such, then, are our views of this great man's character; and whatever may be thought of them, we are confident they have not been taken up without a pretty reasonable examination. The truth is, we can think of no uninspired man to whom all men of the present age are so much indebted; and it seems as if we had rather ungenerously endeavored to indemnify ourselves for his acknowledged greatness by exaggerating his faults. Moreover, we are one of "the next ages" to which he left his "name and memory;" and, for one, we are unwilling to withhold the "charitable speeches" which he trusted to receive. It is surely for our interest to do justice to his fame.

an

Yet, with all the mitigation which the circumstances appear to warrant, we conceive there is still room for no little blame. We have spoken of Mr. Macaulay's censure as being excessive; rather, he makes out excess of matter whereon to ground it. For our readers err, if they suppose, that because we think Bacon far less criminal than Mr. Macaulay represents him, we therefore incline to blame him less than he does. For nothing is

*Hallam, p. 207. Lingard, vol. vi, p. 124 Paris. 1840.