ther point of view in which he appears to still greater advantage; that is, as the steady, unflinching friend of Lord Bacon. When in the full tide of prosperity, Bacon had patronized and befriended Jonson, who has left on record, in a graceful poem, his appreciation of the kindness. But it was when Bacon was in adversity, and avoided by many of his noble acquaintances and time-serving friends, that the conduct of Jonson shines forth in favorable contrast. 66 My conceit of his person was never increased towards him by his place or honors; but I have, and do reverence him for the greatness that was only proper to himself, in that he seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the greatest men, and most worthy of admiration, that had been in many ages. In his adversity I ever prayed God would give him strength, for greatness he could not want."* Richard, Earl of Dorset, was also a steady friend, and so great an admirer that he was in the habit of having the conversation of Bacon written down by Sir Thomas Billinsley; and Gondomar, the Spanish ambassador, who, though unscrupulous, was an able diplomatist and good scholar, fully appreciated the talents of Bacon. If the claims of duty and gratitude had been generally acknowledged, the friends of Bacon, in his fall, would have been many; for he was always disposed to patronize merit, was good-natured and obliging, and most liberally kind to his servants and dependents. The age in which Bacon lived was essentially that of learned men, and though the novelty of his doctrines found some opponents, his merit was generally acknowledged. On the Continent he was highly appreciated. Several men of distinction visited England on purpose to make his acquaintance; and when after his disgrace his own countrymen looked coldly upon him, he was regarded by foreigners with the utmost interest and respect. When the Marquis d'Effiat escorted Queen Henrietta Maria into England, he paid a visit to Bacon, who, being ill in bed, received him with the curtains drawn. "You resemble the angels, my lord," said the ambassador; we hear those beings continually talked of, and we believe them superior to mankind, but we never have the consolation to see them." Another French nobleman carried away with * Ben Jonson's Works by Giffard, ix. 185. him a full-length portrait of the philosopher, and esteemed it one of the most precious things in his possession. Great as was the misfortune of disgrace and political banishment in the opinion of Bacon, it proved one of the most fortunate events of his life, so far as mankind are concerned. While tossed in the vortex of political strife, and occupied by his legal duties, his time was too fully engaged to admit of his devoting so much attention to philosophic and experimental inquiries as he desired. That, however, was the field best adapted to the display of his transcendent abilities, and most congenial to his taste. Bacon the philosopher is the object of our hero-worship; of Baron Verulam, Lord Chancellor, we know but little favorable. It was when in his study, pen in hand, or when rambling in meditative abstraction amongst the glades of Gorhambury, that he appeared to full advantage. Then was to be seen the pioneer of truth, by whom the barriers which hedged in the fallacies and dogmas of the ancient school were broken down-the philosopher, whose name was held in reverence by foes as well as friends amongst his learned contemporaries, and whose reputation, based on the most solid of all foundations, will endure so long as science is studied or learning held sacred. When penning the following passages, he was portraying the sentiments of his inmost soul: "The pleasures and delight of knowledge and learning far surpasseth all other in nature. We see in all other pleasures there is satiety, and after they be used, their verdure departeth; which showeth well they be the deceits of pleasure and not pleasures, and that it was the novelty which pleased, and not the quality. But of knowledge there is no satiety, but satisfaction and appetite are perpetually interchangeable." Having been liberated from the Tower, he retired first to Sir John Vaughan's house at Parson's Green, and shortly afterwards to Gorhambury, at which spot, and at his old chambers in Gray's Inn, he passed the rest of his life. The apartments said to have been occupied by him are up one pair of stairs, on the north side, in No. 1, Gray's Inn Square. Until within a few years, there was in the gardens of the Inn a small elevation, surrounded by trees, called "Lord Bacon's Mount," and the legend was, that the trees were planted by him. That he took great interest in the gardens is well known. The books in the steward's office LORD BACON. contain many of his autographs of the ad- In a letter to the Bishop of Winchester, In March, 1623, an effort was made by Bacon to obtain the appointment of provost of Eton College. In a letter to Secretary Conway he says: "Mr. Thomas Murray, provost of Eton, whom I love very well, is like to die. It were a pretty cell for my fortune; the college and school I do not doubt but I shall make to flourish." In a subsequent letter he pathetically remarks "There will hardly fall, especially in the spent hour-glass of my life, anything so fit for me; being a retreat to a place of study so near London, and where-if I sell my house at Gorhambury, as I purpose to do, to put myself in some convenient plenty-I may be accommodated of a dwelling for summer-time; and therefore, good Mr. Secretary, further this, his Majesty's good intention, by all means, if the place fall." The petitioner was, however, doomed to dsappointment, for the place was given to Sir Henry Wotton. Repeated disappointments had so far steeled his mind, that he had brought himself to bear them with the tranquillity of a stoic, as is recorded by Tennison in his introduction to "Baconiana." "Whilst I am speaking of this work of his lordship's of Natural History,' there comes to my mind a very memorable relation, reported by him who bore a part in it, the Rev. Dr. Rawley. One day his lordship was dictating to that doctor some of the experiments in his 'Sylva.' The same day he had sent a friend to court to receive for him a final answer touching the effect of a grant which had been made him by King James. He had hitherto only hope of it, and hope deferred; but he was desirous to know the event of the matter, and to be freed one way or other from the suspense of his thoughts. His friend returning, told him plainly that he must thenceforth despair of that grant, how much soever his fortunes needed it. Be it so,' said his lordship; [Oct. and then he dismissed his friend very cheerservice. His friend being gone, he came fully, with thankful acknowledgments for his straightway to Dr. Rawley, and said thus to him, 'Well, sir! let us go on with this; for this is in our power:' Yon business won't go on; and then he dictated to him afresh for some hours without the least hesitancy of speech or discernible interruption of thought." In Verulam, and about half a mile from St. Within the bounds of the old city of Albans, was Verulam House, built by Lord Bacon at an expense of ten thousand pounds. It is described by Aubrey as a most ingenipulous attention to comfort and conveniously-constructed pile, arranged with scruence. himself, that Bacon loved to retire with a As it was to this retreat, designed by few chosen friends, it may not be amiss briefly to describe it. and wainscoted; the chimneys so arranged, The rooms were lofty that seats were cozily placed around them, the centre of the house was a staircase of to the great furtherance of sociability. wood delicately carved with ludicrous figbook and spectacles, on another a mendicant ures. On one post was a grave divine with friar, on a third an angel playing a violincello, &c. The top of the house was covered with lead, and made a noble promenade, commanding a lovely prospect. Here Bacon and his friends-the all-accomplished Raleigh, the profound Hobbes, the shrewd Gondomar, the pious Tennison, the witty Jonson, the learned Selden-used to assemble on summer evenings and recreate themselves with conversation and philosophy. On the eastern side of the house under the immediate superintendence of were ponds, which had been constructed Bacon, and in which he took great pride. The bottoms of these ponds were arranged in fanciful patterns, as fishes, shells, &c. curious pebbles, he was sure to be liberally Whenever a poor person brought a few rewarded. The ponds contained fish and many curious aquatic plants. In the centre which an elegant banqueting-house had been of one of the largest ponds was an island, on erected after the Roman style, and paved with black and white marble in antique patterns. Gorhambury was about a mile, and travelThe distance from Verulam House to lers had their choice of three paths thither, all shaded with lofty elms, chestnuts, beeches, and other trees of noble growth. Before them stood the Gothic mansion of large dimensions built by Sir Nicholas nance. The taller of the two treats the other with deference, though perfectly devoid of servility, indicating that he is of exalted rank. He is, indeed, Francis Lord Bacon, and his friend is Thomas Hobbes, the philosopher of Malmesbury. It was the custom of Lord Bacon, when walking in these philosophic groves, to be accompanied by a secretary or friend, to commit to paper the thoughts which crowded upon his mind. The society of no one was so agreeable to him as that of the author of the "Leviathan." The keen eye of Bacon had early detected the talent of Hobbes; the congeniality of their minds and pursuits drew them together, whilst the profound learning and clear intellect of Hobbes rendered him both acceptable and useful to Bacon, who would often say that "he better liked Mr. Hobbes taking his thoughts than any of the others, because he understood what he wrote, which the others not understanding, my lord would many times have had a hard task to make sense of what they writ." Hobbes always carried in the head of his walking-stick a pen and ink-horn, and in his pocket a note-book, that no passing thought should be lost. Bacon. On the south side, which faced a spacious garden, the mansion was adorned with a noble portico; on the wall beneath were emblematical pictures and explanatory mottoes. A fondness for the productions of nature was a leading feature in the character of Bacon. Flowers he passionately loved, and one of his greatest pleasures was to unbend his mind from severer studies by observing the beauties and peculiarities of flowers, experimenting on fruit, and reflecting on the phenomena of the growth of trees. "God Almighty," says he, in his quaint but emphatic language, "first planted a garden, and indeed it is the purest of human pleasures; it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gross handywork.' The garden at Gorhambury was laid out with great taste, and according to the rules of the noble owner: "Because," says he, "the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air, where it comes and goes like the warbling of music, than in the hand; therefore, nothing is more fit for that delight than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air." Beneath the windows of his study were planted musk-roses, sweet-briar, wall-flowers, and large masses of violets, especially the double white. The musk-rose and clovegilliflower were abundant in the beds, and a favorite walk was shaded with lime-trees, beneath which wild-thyme and water-mint flourished luxuriantly. In another part was an artificial wilderness, the thickets being honeysuckle, sweet-briar, and wild-vine, the ground set with primroses, strawberries, and violets, and other plants of a similar cha-connected with the properties of certain racter. This garden communicated with a wood of noble oaks, a favorite resort of Bacon's, who had planted flowers beneath many of the trees. The spot, however, most frequented by him, when engaged in composition or meditation, was a copse laid out in straight walks. Let us picture to ourselves two figures slowly pacing the shady retreat. One erect in carriage and above six feet in height; his ample forehead, bright hazel eyes, and intelligent countenence bespeak a superior mind; his face is rather small, with reddish whiskers and moustache, but, contrary to the fashion of the day, without a beard. He is engaged in writing to the dictation of his companion, a man of middle stature and well-proportioned, handsome features, spacious forehead, piercing eyes, and an expression of profound sagacity in his counte The thicket in which the philosophers are walking is of plum, apple, and pear trees; the underwood of raspberry-bushes. Pheasants, partridges, and many birds of curious plumage, abound; and the indifference with which they regard the passers-by, show how carefully they are preserved. To watch their habits is indeed a favorite amusement with the noble owner, who never permitted them to be injured or disturbed. The subject under discussion would appear to be Of substances, for, says Bacon, "For refresh- Touching dreams, my lord-doth your lordship think there is aught of truth in the strange tales we hear respecting their fulfil- I example. "We even think that something ment ?" "The relations, Master Hobbes, touching the force of imagination and the secret instincts of nature, be so uncertain as to require a great deal of examination ere we conclude upon them. There be many reports in history, that upon the death of persons of nearness of blood, men have had an inward feeling of it. I myself remember that, being in Paris, and my father dying in London, two or three days before my father's death I had a dream, which I told to divers English gentlemen, that my father's house was plastered all over with black mortar; that I well remember, and have often mused upon it." Though in a conversational form, the above are no imaginary or fictitious opinions placed in the mouth of Bacon. In his Sylva Sylvarum" they are to be found. Though naturally tinctured with the crude notions of the seventeenth century, the extent and variety of his information are perfectly amazing. There is scarcely a subject in science or philosophy to which he had not directed his attention. Reflection, and an aptitude for philosophic inquiry, were qualities inherent in his mind; originality of conception, and facility of execution, his great characteristics. With great minuteness of observation, he had an amplitude of comprehension such as has scarcely been vouchsafed to any other human being. It was his custom, when investigating a subject, to set down inquiries on slips of paper, and at his leisure to reconsider the points, or submit them to experiment. For example, amongst other memoranda, Dr. Tennison found this "Mem. to send to Dr. Meverel. Take iron, and dissolve it in aquafortis, and put a loadstone near it, and see whether it will extract the iron; put also a loadstone into the water, and see whether it will gather a crust about it." Bacon apparently satisfied himself on this point without troubling the doctor; for, in the "Inquisitio de Magnete" (in the "Opuscula Posthuma,") the first paragraph is a reply to the inquiry, "If iron be dissolved in aquafortis, and some drops of the solution be placed on smooth glass, the magnet neither extracts the iron nor attracts the water." To be able to form a correct estimate of our own talents is a characteristic of a superior mind with the modesty of true genius, was united in Bacon a perfect consciousness of his own powers: he calls upon those that follow after to take encouragement from his of hope may be supplied to man from our own example; nor do we say this in the spirit of boasting, but because it may be useful to say it. If any be distrustful let him consider me; a man among the men of my age, the most occupied with civil affairs, of somewhat infirm health (which occasions much loss of time,) and in this matter clearly a first adventurer, following the steps of no other, nor even holding communication respecting these things with any mortal, and who yet, having entered firmly upon the true road and submitting my understanding to things, have, as I conceive, carried forward these things somewhat." Well might he have added in the touching words of Milton, "I began thus far to assent *to an inward prompting which now grew daily upon me, that by labor and intense study (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after times, as they should not willingly let it die."* * * Great and varied talents, which would singly have adorned any man, were in Bacon united. His powers of conversation were of the highest order, set off by a keen sense of humor and the most sparkling wit. So completely did his fame as a philosopher fill the world of letters to the exclusion of other points in his history, that Bayle, writing only a century after his death, had not, with all his inquisitiveness, so much as heard that Bacon had been dismissed with disgrace from his political offices. His abilities as an orator have been placed on record by a contemporary who had often listened to him with delight, and who was highly qualified to judge of his pretensions. "There happened in my time one noble speaker who was full of gravity in his speaking. His language, where he could spare or pass by a jest, was nobly censorious (censor-like); no man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry and pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was, lest he should make an end."t * Milton-Account of his own studies. † Ben Jonson's Works by Giffard, ix. 184. There is no doubt that the evening of Ba- | he, Madam, I am no good footman." This con's life was greatly embittered by pecu- tendency to syncope rendered him cautious niary embarrassments. When in prosperity of exposing himself to unpleasant odors, for he had made no provision against adversity. which reasons his servants invariably appearOn the contrary, large as was his income, his ed before him in boots of Spanish leather, expenditure greatly exceeded it; love of dis- for he had a great aversion to the smell of play was one of the weakest points in his calf-hide. character; his style of living, when chancellor, was princely, and when in banishment he could not give up his darling pomp. It was during that time that Charles I., then Prince of Wales, when coming to town, saw at a distance a coach followed by a large retinue on horseback; being informed that it was the Lord St. Alban's, he exclaimed, with a smile, "Well! do what we will, that man scorns to go out like a snuff." He was not only expensive in his habits, but so careless of money that his servants plundered him in the most barefaced manner, with perfect impunity. When stripped of his offices and emoluments he had a hard struggle against poverty: he was obliged to sell his ancestral town residence, York House, with all its splendid furniture, to reduce his establishment at Gorhambury to a mere shadow of its former self, and to reside chiefly at Gray's Inn. He was sometimes so pinched as to be compelled to borrow trifling sums from his friends. But, embarrassed as he was known to be, it was reserved for Lord Campbell to prove, beyond a doubt, that Lord Bacon died an insolvent. It has been ascertained that after his death a creditor's suit was established for the administration of his estate: his servants were paid their wages in full, after which the fund arising from the sale of his property was divided rateably among the creditors. Lord Bacon was of a delicate constitution, and inherited from his father a tendency to gout and a calculous disorder. He was extremely susceptible of atmospheric influences, and it is asserted by Dr. Rawley, who, as his chaplain and companion during many years, must have been well aware of his peculiarities, that he was in the habit of fainting at certain changes in the moon. Were the statement from a less questionable quarter, it might have been received with suspicion, but it is to a certain extent corroborated by another contemporary. Aubrey says, I remember Sir John Danvers told me that his Lordship much delighted in his (Sir John's) curious garden at Chelsey, and as he was walking there one time he fell down in a sowne. My Lady Danvers rubbed his face, temples, &c., and gave him cordial waters. As soon as he came to himself, said During meditation he often had music in an adjoining room, by which his fancy was enlivened. He had many little whims and peculiarities, some of which may excite a smile: for instance, in the spring he would go out for a drive in his open coach whilst it rained, to receive (in the quaint language of Aubrey) "the benefit of irrigation," which he was wont to say was very wholesome, "because of the nitre in the air and the universal spirit of the world." He had extraordinary notions respecting the virtue of nitre, and conceived it to be of inestimable value in the preservation of health. So great was his faith, that he swallowed three grains of that drug, either alone or with saffron, in warm broth, every morning during thirty years! He seems to have been very fond of quacking himself; once a week he took a dose of the "water of Mithridate," diluted with strawberry-water. Once a month, at least, he made a point of swallowing a grain and a half of "castor" in his broth and breakfast for two successive days. And every sixth or seventh day he drank an infusion of rhubarb in white wine and beer immediately before his dinner. He made it a point to take air in some high and open place every morning, the third hour after sunrise, and if possible he selected a spot where he could enjoy the perfume of musk, roses, and sweet violets. Besides thus breathing the pure air of nature, he was fumigated with the smoke of lign-aloes, with dried bays, and rosemary, adding once a week a little tobacco. On leaving his bed he was anointed all over with oil of almonds, mingled with salt and saffron, and this was followed by gentle friction. He was rather a hearty feeder, and, when young, preferred game and poultry, but in after life, gave the choice to butchers' meat, which had been well beaten before being roasted. At every meal his table was strewed with flowers and sweet herbs. Half an hour before supper he took a cup of wine, or ale, hot and spiced, and once during supper wine in which gold had been quenched. The first draught which he drank at dinner or supper was always hot, and on returning to bed he ate a bit of bread steeped in a mixture of wine, syrup of roses and amber, and washed |