pulous. On his own account, too, he accepted large presents from persons engaged in Chancery suits. His enemies reckoned his gains in this way at a hundred thousand pounds: an immense sum in those days, and probably exaggerated. Meanwhile he continued prosperous. His works had spread his fame throughout Europe. He had also been created Baron Verulam; and subsequently Viscount St. Alban's. We have every reason to believe that he valued this title higher than that of the author of the Instauratio Magna; but as Mr. Macaulay remarks, posterity, in defiance of Royal letters patent, has obstinately refused to degrade Francis Bacon into Viscount St. Alban's.

In the height of this prosperity a terrible reverse was at hand. He was accused of corruption and impeached. His remorse and dejection of mind were dreadful. "During several days he remained in his bed, refusing to see any human being. He passionately told his attendants to leave him--to forget him--never again to name his name―never to remember that there had been such a man in the world." The charges against him were such, that the king, impotent to save him, advised him to plead guilty. He did so. The sentence he received was severe : a fine of forty thousand pounds, and to be imprisoned in the Tower during the king's pleasure. He was declared incapable of holding any office in the State, or of sitting in Parliament, and was banished for life from the verge of the Court.

This sentence was not executed. He was sent, indeed, to the Tower; but at the end of the second day he was released. His fine was remitted by the Crown. He was soon allowed to present himself

at Court; and in 1624 the rest of his sentence was remitted. He was at liberty to sit in the House of Lords, and was summoned to the next Parliament. He did not, however, attend: age, infirmity, and let us hope, shame, prevented him.

In his retirement he devoted himself to literature; and amongst other works published his wonderful treatise De Augmentis, which, though only an expansion of his "Advancement of Learning," is nevertheless to be regarded as a new work.*

"The great apostle of experimental philosophy," Mr. Macaulay, says 66 was destined to be its martyr. It had occurred to him that snow might be used with advantage for the purpose of preventing animal substances from putrifying. On a very cold day, early in spring of the year 1626, he alighted from his coach near Highgate to try the experiment. He went into a cottage, bought a fowl, and with his own hands stuffed it with snow. While thus engaged, he felt a sudden chill, and was so much indisposed that it was impossible for him to return to Gray's Inn. After an illness of about a week, he expired on the morning of Easter-day, 1626. His mind appears to have retained its strength and liveliness to the end. He did not forget the fowl which had caused his death. In the last letter that he ever wrote, with fingers which, as he said, could not steadily hold a pen, he did not omit to mention that the experiment of the snow had succeeded excellently well."

"I find upon comparison that more than two-thirds of this treatise are a version, with slight interpolation or omission, from the Advancement of Learning,' the remainder being new matter."-Hallam, History of Literature of Europe, iii. p. 169.

The picture

Such was Francis Bacon the man. is a painful one: the union of great intellect with moral baseness is one of the least pleasing, but most instructive examples of human character. We have witnessed Bacon's infamy: we are now to turn to his glory. For as the writer we have so often quoted, admirably observes, "the difference between the soaring angel and the creeping snake was but a type of the difference between Bacon the Philosopher, and Bacon the AttorneyGeneral Bacon seeking for Truth and Bacon seeking for the Seals. Those who survey only one half of his character may speak of him with unmixed admiration or with unmixed contempt. But those only judge of him correctly who take in at one view Bacon in speculation and Bacon in action. They will have no difficulty in comprehending how one and the same man should have been far before his age and far behind it-in one line the boldest and most useful of innovators, in another line the most obstinate champion of the foulest abuses. In his library all his rare powers were under the guidance of an honest ambition--of an enlarged philanthropy-of a sincere love of truth. There, no temptation drew him away from the right course. Thomas Aquinas could pay no fees-Duns Scotus could confer no peerages. The 'Master of Sentences' had no rich reversions in his gift. Far different was the situation of the great philosopher when he came forth from his study and laboratory to mingle with the crowd which filled the galleries of Whitehall. In all that crowd there was no man equally qualified to render great and lasting services to mankind. But in all that crowd there was not a heart more set on

things which no man ought to suffer to be necessary to his happiness-on things which can often be obtained only by the sacrifice of honour and integrity. To be the leader of the human race in the career of improvement-to found on the ruins of ancient intellectual dynasties a more prosperous and a more enduring empire-to be revered to the latest generations as the most illustrious among the benefactors of mankind-all this was within his reach. But all this availed him nothing while some quibbling special pleader was promoted before him to the bench-while some heavy country gentleman took precedence of him by virtue of a purchased coronet-while some pander, happy in a fair wife, could obtain a more cordial salute from Buckingham-while some buffoon, versed in all the latest scandal of the court, could draw a louder laugh from James."

Bacon, when dying, did not disguise from himself the mournful fact, that if he had thought profoundly he had acted unworthily. He knew his baseness. He also knew his greatness; and he said "for my name and memory I leave it to men's charitable speeches, and to foreign nations and to the next age." His confidence was well placed. Leniently as we cannot but think him to have been treated by his contemporaries, posterity has been still more gracious; and the reason is, as so felicitously expressed by Mr. Macaulay, that "turn where we will, the trophies of that mighty intellect are full in view. We are judging Manlius in sight of the Capitol."

CHAPTER II.

BACON'S HISTORICAL POSITION.

BACON is the Father of Experimental Philosophy. And why? Was he the first great experimentalist? No. Was he the most successful experimentalist? No. Was he the discoverer of some of those great laws, the application of which is the occupation of succeeding generations-was he a Copernicus, a Galileo, a Kepler, a Torricelli, a Harvey, or a Newton? No.

He owes his title to his Method. What that Method was, it is our purpose to examine; but before doing so it may be necessary to consider an opinion recently put forth in a work of high authority, which, if correct, would reduce Bacon's merit to that of a mere littérateur. We are speaking of an opinion entertained by Dr. Whewell, and which may be said to form the critical basis of his "History of the Inductive Sciences." It is this:

:

After a rapid review of Greek Physics, he comes to the question of the cause of failure. It is indeed an interesting problem: Why did the Greeks fail in constructing science upon a solid basis? Dr. Whewell first shows that the cause of failure was not neglect of facts; next, that it was not deficiency of ideas: and these two requisites of science, facts and ideas, being fulfilled, it becomes a question why science was not solidly established.