culties of his profession, he was entitled, by his commanding intellect, to possess the power,which, although it had not precedence in his thoughts, followed regularly in the train of his duty; not the common vulgar power, from ostentation, loving trivial pomp and city noise; or from ambition, which, like the sealed dove, mounts and mounts because it is unable to look about it; but power to advance science and promote merit, according to his maxim and in the spirit of his own words "detur digniori." "Power to do good is the true and lawful end of aspiring; for good thoughts, though God accept them, yet towards men are little better than good dreams, except they be put act; and that cannot be without power and place, as the vantage and commanding ground.” With these prospects before him, he could not be so weak as hastily to abandon them, by yielding to that generous illusion by which the noblest minds are often raised in their own esteem by imagined disinterestedness.

as it is a part or member of a greater body;
whereof the latter is in degree the greater and the
worthier. This double nature of good and the
comparative thereof is much more engraven upon
man, if he degenerate not, unto whom the conser-
vation of duty to the public ought to be much
more precious than the conservation of life and
being, according to that memorable speech of Pom-
peius Magnus, when being in commission of pur-
veyance for a famine at Rome, and being dissuaded
with great vehemency and instance by his friends
about him, that he should not hazard himself to
sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to
them, Necesse est ut eam non ut vivam.'" And
when Essex proffered him assistance, he, weigh-in
ing these duties, admonished his friend that this
was not to interfere with his duty to his sovereign.
His words were, "I must and will ever acknow-
ledge my lord's love, trust, and favour towards
me, after the queen had denied me the solicitor's
place, when he said, You have spent your time
and thoughts in my matters; I die, these were
his very words, if I do not somewhat towards
your fortune. My answer, I remember, was that
for my fortune it was no great matter; but that
his lordship's offer (which was of a piece of land
worth about £1800) made me call to mind what
was wont to be said when I was in France of the
Duke of Guise, that he was the greatest usurer in
France, because he had turned all his estate into
obligations. He bad me take no care for that,
and pressed it; whereupon I said, "My lord, I
sec I must be your homager, and hold land of
your gift; but do you know the manner of doing
homage in law? Always it is with a saving of
his faith to the king and his other lords."1

His considerations were not, however, confined to his duties to the queen and to Essex, but extended to the peculiar situation in which, with respect to his own worldly prospects, he was placed. He saw that, if he did not plead against Essex, all his hopes of advancement might, without any benefit to his friend, be destroyed; and that if he did plead against him, he should be exposed to obloquy and misrepresentation. The consideration of his worldly prospects were to him and to the community of great importance.

It is, perhaps, to be lamented that, formed for contemplation, he was induced, either by his necessities, or any erroneous notion of the virtue of activity, to engage in public life; but he was always unskilful to note the card of prudent lore, and it was his favourite opinion that, to dignify and exalt knowledge, contemplation and action should be nearly and strongly conjoined and united together: a conjunction like unto that of the two highest planets, Saturn, the planet of rest and contemplation, and Jupiter, the planet of civil society and action.

Having engaged and encountered all the diffi

1 Bacon's Apology.

With respect to his professional duties, he was in less difficulty. He knew that his conduct would be subject "to envy and peril," but knowing also that these aspersions would originate in good feeling, in the supposition of ingratitude and disregard of truth, he could not be alarmed at the clamours of those who knew not what they did. To consider every suggestion, in favour and in opposition to any opinion, is, according to his doctrine in the Novum Organum, the only solid foundation upon which any judgment, even in the calm inquiries of philosophy, can be formed. In public assemblies, therefore, agitated by passions by which the progress of truth is disturbed, he of all men knew and admired the wise constitution of our courts, in which it has been deemed expedient, that, to elicit truth, the judge should hear the opposite statements of the same or of different powerful disinterested minds, who may be more able than the suitors to do justice to the causes upon which their interests depend. A more efficacious mode to disentangle difficulty, to expose falsehood, and discover truth, was, perhaps, never devised. It prevents the influence of passions by which truth may be impeded, and calls in aid every intellectual power by which justice may be advanced. He was not likely, therefore, to be moved by the censures of those who, ignorant of the principles upon which this practice is founded, imagine advocates to be indiscriminate defenders of right and wrong, instead of being officers assisting in the administration of justice, and acting under the impression that truth is best discovered by powerful statements on both sides of the ques. tion. He was not likely to be moved by that ig norant censure which mixes the counsel with his client, instead of knowing that the advocate is indifferent on which side he pleads, whether for the most unfortunate or the most prosperous, for the most virtuous or the most abandoned member of

1

took of my obligation towards him, I should reckon it for one of her greatest favours: but otherwise desiring her majesty to think that I knew the degrees of duties; and that no particular obligation whatsoever to any subject could sup

the community; and that, if he were not indiffer- words of compliment, signifying to her majesty,
ent, if he were to exercise any discretion as to "That if she would be pleased to spare me in my
the party for whom he pleads, the course of jus-lord of Essex's cause, out of the consideration she
tice would be interrupted by prejudice to the suitor,
and the exclusion of integrity from the profession.
The suitor would be prejudiced in proportion to
the respectability of the advocate who had shrunk
from his defence, and the weight of character of
the counsel would be evidence in the cause. In-plant or weaken that entireness of duty that I did
tegrity would be excluded from the profession,
as the counsel would necessarily be associated
with the cause of his client; with the slanderer,
the adulterer, the murderer, or the traitor, whom
it may be his duty to defend.

Such were the various conflicting duties by which a common mind might have been perplexed; but, strong in knowledge, he, without embarrassment, looked steadily at the undefined shapes of difficulty and danger, of possible mistake or mischance, and, without any of the vacillation in which contemplative genius is too apt to indulge, he saw instantly the path of his duty, and steadily advanced in it. He saw that, if he acted in obedience to general rules, he ought neither to desert the queen, or to bereave himself of the power to do good. If, not adhering to general rules, he exercised his own understanding upon the particular circumstances of the case, he saw that, by yielding to popular feeling, he might gain momentary applause, might leave Essex to a merciless opponent, and, by depriving himself of all influence over the queen, might sacrifice his friend at the foot of the throne.

He therefore wrote instantly to the queen, and, by this sagacious and determined conduct, having at once defeated the stratagems by which it was vainly hoped that he would be entangled, he, regardless of the senseless clamour of those who praise they know not what, and know not whom; of those who could neither be put in possession of his real sentiments towards Essex, or the private communications on his behalf with the queen, went right onward with his own, and the approbation of intelligence.

owe and bear to her and her service." And this was the goodly suit I made, being a respect no man that had his wits could have omitted: but nevertheless I had a farther reach in it; for I judged that day's work would be a full period of any bitterness or harshness between the queen and my lord: ano therefore, if I declared myself fully according to her mind at that time, which could not do my lord any manner of prejudice, I should keep my credit with her ever after, whereby to do my lord service.

The proceedings after this communication to the queen are thus stated by Bacon:"Hereupon the next news that I heard was, that we were all sent for again; and that her majesty's pleasure was, we all should have parts in the business; and the lords falling into distribution of our parts, it was allotted to me, that I should set forth some undutiful carriage of my lord, in giving occasion and countenance to a seditious pamphlet, as it was termed, which was dedicated unto him, which was the book before mentioned of King Henry IV. Whereupon I replied to that allotment, and said to their lordships, That it was an old matter, and had no manner of coherence with the rest of the charge, being matters of Ireland: and therefore, that I having been wronged by bruits before, this would expose me to them more; and it would be said I gave in evidence mine own tales. It was answered again with good shew, that because it was considered how I stood tied to my lord of Essex, therefore that part was thought fittest for me, which did him least hurt; for that whereas all the rest was matter of charge and accusation, this only was but matter of caveat and admonition. Wherewith, though I was in mine own mind little satisfied, because I knew well a man were better to be charged with some faults, than admonished of some others; yet the conclusion binding upon the queen's pleasure directly, volens nolens,' I could not avoid that part that was laid upon me."1

The following is Bacon's own account of this extraordinary event:-And then did some principal counsellors send for us of the learned counsel, and notify her majesty's pleasure unto us: save that it was said to me openly by one of them, that her majesty was not yet resolved whether she would have me forborns in the business or no. On the 5th June, 1600, this trial took place. And hereupon might arise that other sinister and It was marked by the same indecision that had untrue speech, that I hear, is raised of me, how I characterized the whole of the queen's conduct. was a suitor to be used against my lord of Essex To give effect to her wishes that Essex should at that time; for it is very true, that I that knew be censured, not sentenced, each man had lis well what had passed between the queen and me, part allotted; and lest this mark of her disappro and what occasion I had given her both of dis-bation should hereafter be urged against him, she taste and distrust in crossing her disposition, by commanded that no official record should be kept standing steadfastly for my lord of Essex, and of the proceedings, that he might not be rendered suspecting it also to be a stratagem arising from incapable of bearing office in her household. Come particular emulation, I writ to her two or three

See Bacon's Apology, vol. ii. p. 339.

The privy counsel met at the lord keeper's | place." In this strain he proceeded through the house, and were assisted by noblemen selected | whole of his address. for that purpose. The commissioners were eighteen, the auditory about two hundred; there was much state and solemnity in the assembly, and much humility and contrition on the part of Essex, who knelt while the commission was opened, and so remained till he had leave to rise. From this mode of conduct, which, doubtless, had been prescribed to him, he never departed but once during his examination, and he was then reminded by the lord treasurer of the course he was expected to pursue.

The case was opened by a statement, that "to command down the winds of malicious and seditious rumours wherewith men's conceits may have been tossed to and fro, the queen was pleased to call the world to an understanding of her princely course held towards the Earl of Essex, as well in herebefore protracting, as in now proceeding against him, not in the ordinary and open place of offenders and criminals, which might leave a taint upon his honour, but, on account of his penitence and submission, her majesty had ordered that the hearing should be before a great, honourable, and selected council, a full and deliberate, and yet in respect a private, mild, and gracious hearing." The chief heads of the accusation were then stated by the lawyers, who, with the exception of Bacon, either not in the court secret, | or disregarding their instructions, pursued their argument with their usual pertinacity, coloured by the respective characters of the men, and of course by Sir Edward Coke, with his accustomed rancour. Bacon, on the contrary, though he was favoured with a part of the charge least likely to be injurious to Essex, still complained that he might injure his friend, and, though in array against him, evidently fought on his side.

To those persons present who were not already apprized of the queen's wishes, Bacon's speech would be considered more consistent with his affection for his friend than his duty to the queen, as it was constructed as much as possible to do him service. "I hope," he said, "that my Lord Essex himself, and all who now hear me, will consider that the particular bond of duty, which I do now, and ever will acknowledge that I owe unto his lordship, must be sequestered and laid aside, in discharge of that higher duty, which we all owe unto the queen, whose grace and mercy I cannot enough extol; whereof the earl is a singular work, in that, upon his humble suit, she is content not to prosecute him in her court of justice, the Star Chamber, but, according to his own earnest desire, to remove that cup from him, for those are my lord's own words, and doth now suffer his cause to be heard inter privatos parietes, by way of mercy and favour only, where no manner of disloyalty is laid to his charge; for if that had been the question, this had not been the (D)

He constantly kept in view the queen's determination neither to injure her favourite in person nor in purse; he averred that there was no charge of disloyalty; he stated nothing as a lawyer; nothing from his own ingenious mind; nothing that could displease the queen; he repeated only passages from letters, in the queen's possession, complaining of her cruelty and obduracy; topics which she loved to have set forth in her intercourse with a man whom she was thought to have too much favoured; he selected the most affecting expressions from the earl's letter, and though he at last performed his part of the task, by touching upon Hayward's book, he established in the minds of the hearers the fact that Essex had called in the work a week after he learnt that it was published.

To those who are familiar with Bacon's style, and know the fertility of his imagination, and the force of his reasoning, it is superfluous to observe that he brought to this semblance of a trial only the shadow of a speech; and that under the flimsy veil of an accuser there may easily be detected the face of a friend.

In answer to these charges, Essex, on his knees, declared that, ever since it had pleased her majesty to remove that cup from him, he had laid aside all thought of justifying himself, or of making any contestation with his sovereign; that he had made a divorce between himself and the world, and that, ratfier than bear a charge of disloyalty or want of affection, he would tear his heart out of his breast with his own hands. The first part of his defence drew tears from many of his hearers; but, being somewhat touched by the sharp speeches and rhetorical flourishes of his accusers, he expressed himself with so much heat, before he had gone half through with his reply, that he was interrupted by the lord keeper, who told him "this was not the course to do him good; that he would do well to commit himself to her majesty's mercy; that he was acquitted by all present of disloyalty, of which he did not stand charged, but of disobedience and contempt; and if he meant to say that he had disobeyed, without an intention of disobedience, it was frivolous and absurd."

In pronouncing the censure, the lord keeper declared, that if Essex had been tried elsewhere, and in another manner, a great fine and imprisonment for life must have been his sentence, but as he was in a course of favour, his censure was, "That the Earl of Essex should be suspended from his offices, and continue a prisoner in his own house till it pleased her majesty to release him." The Earl of Cumberland declared, that, if he thought the censure was to stand, he would ask more time, for it seemed to him some what severe; and intimated how easily a general ce n

ears.

portionable to an infinite desire; his study, in
my knowledge, to engage your love by the best
means he could devise, are forcible persuasions
and instances to make me judge that a gentleman
so well born, a wise gentleman so well levelled
a gentleman so highly valued by a person of his
virtue, worth, and quality, will rather hunt after
all occasions of expressing thankfulness, so far as
duty doth permit, than either omit opportunity or
increase indignation. No man alive out of the
thoughts of judgment, the ground of knowledge,
and lesson of experience, is better able to distin-
guish betwixt public and private offices, and di-
rect measure in keeping a measure in discharge
of both, to which I will refer you for the finding
out of the golden number. In my own particular
opinion I esteem of you as I have ever done, and
your rare parts deserve; and so far as my voice
hath credit, justify your credit according to the
warrant of your profession, and the store of my
best wishes in all degrees towards you, &c. My
credit is so weak in working any strange effect
of friendship where I would do most, as to speak
of blossoms without giving tastes of fruits were
idleness; but if you will give credit to my words,
it is not long since I gave testimony of my good
affection in the ear of one that neither wants de-
sire nor means to do for you. Thus wishing to
your credit that allowance of respect and rever-

For your lordship's love, rooted upon good opinion, I esteem it highly, because I have tasted of the fruits of it; and we both have tasted of the best waters, in my account, to knit minds together. There is shaped a tale in London's forge, that beateth apace at this time, that I should deliver opinion to the queen, in my lord of Essex's cause. First, that it was premunire, and now last, that it was high treason; and this opinion, to be in opposition and encounter of the lord chief justice's opinion, and the attorney general's. My lord, I thank God, my wit serveth me not to deliver any opinion to the queen, which my stomach serveth me not to maintain; one and the same conscience of duty guiding me and fortifying me. But the untruth of this fable, God and my sovereign can witness, and there I leave it; knowing no more remedy against lies than others do against libels. The root, no question of it, is, partly some light-headed envy at my accesses to her majesty; which being begun, and continued since my childhood, as long as her majesty shall think me worthy of them, I scorn those that shall think the contrary. And another reason is, the aspersion of this tale and the envy thereof, upon some greater man, in regard of my nearness. And therefore, my lord, I pray you answer for me to any person that you think worthy your own reply and my defence. For my lord of Essex, I am not servile to him, having regard to my supe-ence which your wise and honest letter doth derior's duty. I have been much bound unto him; and, on the other side, I have spent more time and more thoughts about his well-doing than ever I did about mine own. I pray God you his friends amongst you be in the right. Nulla remedia, tam facient dolorem, quam quæ sunt salutaria. For my part, I have deserved better than to have my name objected to envy, or my life to a ruffian's violence. But I have the privy coat of a good conscience. I am sure these courses and bruits hurt my lord more than all. So having written to your lordship, I desire exceedingly to be preferred in your good opinion and love. And so leave you to God's goodness."

serve, and resting ever ready to relieve all minds (so far as my ability and means will stretch) that groan under the burden of undeserved wrong, I commend you to God's protection, and myself to the best use you will make of me. In haste from my lodging," &c.

The partisans of Essex again interfered, to raise the flames which Bacon had so judiciously suppressed, and again were the queen's ministers compelled to check their imprudence.

On the 12th of June, 1600, the lord keeper, in his usual speech in the Star Chamber to the country gentlemen, mentioned the late proceeding against the Earl of Essex, who, he observed, had acknowledged his errors, and expressed his sorrow for them; but that some wicked persons had intermeddled by libelling what her majesty had done in that point, which occasioned a proclamation to be published against such seditious practices.1

The answer of Lord Howard to this letter, the best answer that could be made to the slanderers of whom Bacon complains, is as follows: "I might be thought unworthy of that good conceit you hold of me, good Mr. Bacon, if I did not sympathize with so sensitive a mind in this smart of Notwithstanding this ill-advised conduct, the wrongful imputation of unthankfulness. You were queen was desirous to remove from Essex the rethe first that gave me notice, I protest, at Rich-straint of a keeper, when her indignation was mond of the rumour, though within two days after | again excited by a rumour, that Essex had been I heard more than I would of it: but as you suffer duly authorized by her to create knights, though more than you deserve, so I cannot believe what the greedy malice of the world hath laid upon you. The travels of that worthy gentleman in your behalf, when you stood for a place of credit; the delight which he hath ever taken in your company; his grief that he could not seal up assurance of his love by fruits, effects, and offices pro

his having conferred that honour had been made a charge against him before the commissioners. In the first moment of her displeasure she determined to rescind the honours he had bestowed Bacon advised her against this step, and recommended that a letter written by her own hand to Sydney Papers, vol, ii. 201.