quence has tasked the powers of the English language to sustain the greatness of his thoughts, and the blazonry of his illustrations, he was no "maker" himself. He was an excellent critic; but from want of genuine sensibility and early practice, or from the scientific character of his pursuits, which led him to think more of man's wants than feelings, he was no poet, he had "the vision," but not "the faculty" divine.

We have now glanced, though very cursorily, at most of the works, which will be found under the titles of Moral, Political, Legal, Historical, and Theological, writings; and Mr. Hallam has well said, that if his philosophy had never existed, there would be enough in these alone to place Bacon among the greatest men this country has produced. But the philosopher pervades them all, and he need not be ashamed to acknowledge his offspring. It is true that he has his "great work," but we shall find in the most insignificant of these various pieces some trace of his genius: the name alone does not give the charm, but an actual modification of that same transcendent thing, whose higher manifestations excite our wonder.

As a POLITICIAN we have seen that Bacon was a personification of his age-in most things in advance of it, in nothing below it—and if not better, never worse than his contemporaries. In common with all the distinguished men of his time, when the favour of the sovereign was indispensable to success, he was a courtier. Prerogative was in full vigour when his career commenced, and he lived to see its splendour wane with himself. He was one of the first great officers of state cashiered by the Commons, and the game of Impeachment reached his master at last. The vitia hominis, with him, were the vitia temporis. Brought up under a system which left the liberty of the subject at the beck of tyrannical tribunals, and all his life an actor in it, he yet could say to Buckingham in the Tower, that "he was never author of any immoderate, no, nor unsafe, no, nor unfortunate counsel." Without extenuating the Machiavellian policy that prevailed, it will not be denied that the representative principle had been long observed, rather as a custom, than a right; and it should not be forgotten that the Organon of all constitutional government, must be understood by subjects, before it will be respected by rulers.

As a LAWYER, though' greatly learned, he was prevented, by other avocations, from discharging the common obligation to his profession; and no one will regret that, as he could not do justice to his noble views of judicial science, he did not attempt to increase the confusion of chaos, by any additions after the manner of Coke. It is curious that while he admits the sentence he had incurred to be just, "and for reformation' sake fit," he maintains, and in the Tower too, that he was "the justest chancellor that had been, in the five changes since Sir Nicholas Bacon's time." Some of the suitors actually applied to the House of Lords for relief against Bacon's decrees, on the ground of supposed corruption; " but," says Carte, "they were found too just to be reversed." While we differ from Lord Brougham, (who merits more of this age than any other of its many illustrious statesmen,) as to the success which has attended Mr. B. Montagu's recent attempt to vindicate the legal and judicial character of Bacon, we must agree with "one thing," which that learned lord asserts in the last sentence of the last note in his famous Discourse of Natural Theology,—“ One thing, however, is undeniable, that they who so loudly blame Bacon, overlook the meanness of all the great statesmen of those courtly times." And when the sovereigns whom he served, and prime ministers, allowed themselves to be bribed for the exertion of their interest with the judges, why should Bacon be singled out as a monster of venality?

As an HISTORIAN he has left but few pieces, but they are sufficient to show, that with a larger scope he would have been pre-eminently successful in the department of civil history. One of his earliest literary projects was a history of England, and one of his latest a memoir of his own times. It is somewhat remarkable that two of our greatest men should have attempted the history of their country; and that with ample materials, and an equal sense

of the importance of the work, neither should have accomplished it. Bacon's amounted to no more than a "tender," and Milton's was but a "beginning." beginning." How differently these men would have treated their theme! They were each prompted by the same motive," the unworthiness of the history of England," and " the unskilful handling of monks and mechanics." But who would take the " Great Instauration," or the "Paradise Lost," out of either's hand?

As a MORALIST and a THEOLOGIAN, it would be difficult to exaggerate his merits; in the one he has appeared as a practical, in the other as a Christian, philosopher. From the separate little tracts and fragments which we have last noticed, (as well as the greater works, which contain a fuller development of his views on this subject,) it appears that he slighted what has been termed Natural Theology. He was content with the Bible, without which Natural Theology is a dabble of inconclusive presumptions, and in connexion with which, however pleasing as a speculative inquiry, useless as a canon of faith, or a rule of life. By the inductive philosophy, which our author taught, we can obtain some knowledge of the nature without us and within us; but neither enables us " to find out the Almighty;" and without the knowledge of Him we cannot please Him. We can know no more of Him than he is pleased to reveal, by his works and by his word, and if the former had been sufficient the latter had not been vouchsafed. Theology as much requires a revelation, as natural philosophy requires a nature, or mental philosophy a mind. "Next to the study," says Bacon, addressing his university," of those sacred volumes of God, the Holy Scriptures, turn over that volume of the works of God."

But the rich collection of LETTERS, preserved by the labours of Rawley, Tenison, Stephens, and Birch, and published in this edition, throw the greatest light upon our author in all the characters which he sustained. It is a singular fortune that so large a portion of his correspondence should have been handed down to us. The private memorials of our most distinguished countrymen were not very carefully respected by their contemporaries; and when such a genius, or rather such a miracle, as Shakspeare was allowed to depart without the slightest effort being made to illustrate his individual life, it would not have been surprising if one, in whom was enshrined as much of the divinity of intellect, had, notwithstanding his aristocratic connexions, been similarly treated. There are some works which cannot be understood or appreciated without an acquaintance with their authors, and others which do not require any biographical illustration. The writers of the former class are inferior to those of the latter, inasmuch as thought is valuable in proportion to its universality; and whatever depends, entirely, upon individual experience, is obviously limited in its utility. But there are some men who are active, as well as contemplative; and while their mental achievements are their own expositors, the labours of their lives must be recorded in story. Bacon united the two characters in a transcendent degree, and our knowledge of him in both is wonderfully enlarged by these epistolary self-disclosures. They are very numerous, amounting to upwards of 500, and forming almost a consecutive series, from the time when he was a masquer at Gray's Inn, to the very letter which he dictated a few hours before his death. It is needless to say, that they are high and various in matter, dignified but plain in style, and characterized by a sort of indescribable sagacity, which keeps them all of a piece, and makes them truly Baconian.

The PHILOSOPHICAL works remain to be considered; and a general account of them is all that will be now attempted. Superabundant and inviting as are the materials for speculative discussion, on nearly every subject which can engage the human understanding, our undertaking will be limited to the presentation of a plain outline of their contents.

It appears that while yet a student at Trinity College, he had felt dissatisfied with the reigning philosophy; the scholar had even then planned a scheme for improving the schools. Whether the meditative youth ventured so far as either to express the deficiencies he "noted,"

or to shape his academic rebellion into any consistent form, is matter of conjecture merely ; but the fact of his early attention to philosophy is undoubted, his letter to Father Fulgentio proves his attachment to these studies, and the circumstance of his being sent so soon on his travels must have been highly favourable to his scientific independence. The professors of any science are generally satisfied if they teach what they know, and seldom aspire to become its benefactors, by enlarging its bounds, or reforming its method. So early an emancipation, therefore, from the personal authority of pedagogues, may be regarded as fortunate; and the career he was destined to run in after-life was sufficiently high and difficult, to render it desirable that the commencement should be smoothed. He staid long enough at the University to learn what they could teach; and not so long as to have much to unlearn. He experienced no disadvantage in consequence of not completing his curriculum, which so ardent and vigorous a genius would not easily surmount; and there is something extremely ludicrous in the assertion, that by reason of his premature despatch on his travels, Plato and Aristotle were sealed books to him in the originals. The late Mr. Coleridge has hazarded this singular opinion in one of his "Friends ;" and the imputation is indulged in to cover the still greater absurdity which he maintains, of the absolute identity of the Baconian and Platonic systems; but it would be an insult to the memories of mighty philosopher and wayward poet, to assert the classical learning of the one against the juvenile sneer of the other.

It must not be imagined, however, that Bacon and the Universities were on any but the very best of terms. He was as fully sensible of his obligations to them, as they were of the honour of having reared such an alumnus. They were then, perhaps more than they are now, in consequence of anti-national restrictions, the centres from which emanated all the existing learning, and the main sources of political and religious agitation. Our author did them some service in his official character, and presentation copies of his greater works were always acknowledged with respectful promptitude. But the reader will be amused with the ex-cathedrâ sort of advice which the layman gives to them, he could deal more independently with a convocation of Aristotelians than with the pettiest court minion.

While nothing is positively known of the circumstances which first led our author to these studies, it is by no means an improbable conjecture that his father's Puritanical chaplain, whom we have already referred to, might have engaged his early attention to them. Johnson's letters to Bishop Sandys show that the chaplain was no mean proficient in logic; and there is no reason to suppose that he was below par with his brethren in his hatred of the Schoolmen, who had metamorphosed the laws of thought into the laws of their church. It is indeed more than likely that the precocious and inquisitive mind of Bacon was thus inoculated with an anti-scholastic prepossession, long before he was committed to the educational tutelage of Whitgift.

However this may be accounted for, the philosophy which had smitten the boy at college became the constant delight of the man. He was never intended for an "abbey lubber,” or a mere "sorry book-maker." He was eminently fitted to play a distinguished part in the affairs of the world; and if he had not fallen, by risking a popular penalty on the security of a princely protection, we should never have heard of the regrets pathetically bewailing his immersion from youth to age in civil business. The philosophy partially hatched at college was of too robust and practical a kind to be addled by brooding over. It was intended to come "home to men's business and bosoms,"-and it is only necessary to point to the results. His letters abound with references to his favourite pursuit, "whereby he should be able to maintain memory and merit of the times succeeding." The unwearied industry with which he applied himself, in the midst of ordinary engagements, to the completion of his all-comprehensive scheme, is one of the most pleasing and consolatory facts of his history. Life and society were largely mingled in, he used to cry, "Eastward ho!"—

and his arduous calling, the intrigues of ambition, cabinet schemes, and court cabals, were certainly not without their claims or their fascinations. But the philosophy was the business of his great soul, and through evil and good report he followed after it. He never gave it up, and it never gave him up. It injured, or at least his literary, injured, his legal, reputation at first, but most unjustly; for with him it was no excuse for the neglect of professional duties; and we have seen that he was neither dreamer, nor idler, nor wholesale declaimer, nor juggling dealer in rhapsodies, but a most assiduous plodder in the beaten and legitimate track of distinction. His mighty heart was no more to be won by phantasy, or disordered by enthusiasm, than it could be filled and engrossed by forensic, courtly, or political avocations. Yet notwithstanding his practical subserviency to many a wearisome and many a humiliating exigency, his allegiance to his destiny was paramount. And he had his reward, for it made him not more great than happy. Schiller has a saying, that "he found the happiness of life, after all, to consist in the discharge of some mechanical duty;" and upon this principle, Bacon must have found his chosen labour an abundant source of comfort and satisfaction. To use a vulgar but strong expression, he was always at it. The mere mechanical labour of such frequent composition, correction, and transcription for THIRTY YEARS, in the "great work," became delightful. And when we add the stimulus of fame, utility, and the pleasure of intellectual exercise, it will be less difficult to imagine his real indifference to popular or imperial frowns, than to account for his sensitiveness to them. It is certain that he found more genuine pleasure in polishing an aphorism than in counselling a king. But he was determined to do both, and he did. The success of the philosopher was not disturbed by the failure of low intrigues and servile ambition. For the one he was sufficiently punished, and for the other he has had his reward.

The reader will observe that there appears to be two sets of Philosophical works; the English, which properly occupy the first 200 pages of this edition; and the Latin, which appear to be much more extensive. We have hitherto, with a single exception, adhered to the convenient order of arrangement adopted by the earlier printers; but the object of our brief summary will perhaps be best attained by diverging from this order again; and instead of considering the English apart from the Latin works, to give an account of them as one great work." If we only had the English Philosophical works, the author would have been our lasting benefactor, and they would have borne the stamp of immortality. Looking at them as they now stand, at the Advancement of Learning, the Sylva Sylvarum, with its acknowledged imperfections, and the two fragments of the Interpretation of Nature, and Filum Labyrinthi, (beyond all comparison the most wonderful of fragments,) we should not merely have said that this man was sublime in eloquence, subtle of wit, exact in learning, gigantic in comprehension, and of wonderful insight; but that he was convinced of a disease which infected all science, when every one thought it in a sound state, and more than hinted at the remedy; that when the conception of being in the wrong way was in itself an achievement, he had a perpetual craving after, as well as an idea of, the right way; that he was not merely to leave the high road on which the footsteps of Plato and Aristotle were still visible, but find out one more excellent; and that the toil of his first steps was encouraged by visions, and refreshed by prospects, of the good and glory that were to follow. Nor would this be exaggeration; though the judgment may be considerably influenced by our acquaintance with some of them in that more matured and systematic shape, in which they have earned surpassing credit; but if we compare the English works with any others of that era, their superiority will be at once admitted.

The Advancement of Learning was published in 1605, under the title of The two Books of Francis Bacon, of the Proficience and Advancement of Learning, divine and human. To the King. The letters which accompany the presentation copies of this work are very interest

ing. He begs the Earl of Northampton to " present this mean, but well meant, writing to the learnedest king that hath reigned," as his Lordship was "the learnedest counsellor in this kingdom." Sir Thomas Bodley receives the second copy," in regard of his great and rare desert of learning: for books are the shrines where the saint is, or is believed to be. And he having built an ark to save learning from the deluge, deserved in propriety, any new instrument or engine whereby learning should be improved or advanced." He presents "the like argument to the lord chancellor, and reminds him that as he had “ much commandment over the author, so his Lordship had also a great interest in the argument." He prays the Earl of Salisbury's "acceptation" of it, after complimenting him on his being "a great governor in a province of learning, and adding to his place affection towards learning, and to his affection judgment." He signifies his duty to the lord treasurer, Buckhurst, and desires his favourable acceptance of a copy," not only as a chancellor of an university, but as one that was excellently bred in all learning, and would therefore yield a gracious assent to his first love, and take pleasure in the adorning of that wherewith he was so much adorned." But we shall not refer to others.

Soon after the publication of this work Bacon requested Dr. Playfer, whose praise was in all the colleges at that time, to translate it into Latin; which he accordingly essayed, but with such an over-niceness, that he was not encouraged to go on with it. In the letter to Playfer on this business, he thus speaks of what he "chiefly sought" in that work. "I have this opinion, that if I had sought my own commendation, it had been a much fitter course for me to have done as gardeners used to do, of taking their seeds and slips, and rearing them first into plants, and so uttering them in pots, when they are in flower, and in their best state. But forasmuch as my end was merit of the state of learning, to my power, not glory; and because my purpose was rather to excite other men's wits, than to magnify mine own, I was desirous to prevent the uncertainness of mine own life and times, by uttering rather seeds than plants; nay, and farther, as the proverb is, by sowing with the basket, rather than with the hand." It will now be seen that this beautiful treatise was afterwards translated and greatly enlarged; but the De Augmentis will never diminish the home reputation of The Advancement. The first, however, was the only edition of The Advancement during the author's life.

We will now briefly notice the appearance of the De Augmentis, with the letters respecting it; and reserve any observations on the work itself, as the basis of the Great Instauration, until we review that performance as a whole. The De Augmentis Scientiarum was published in 1623; and this, says Tenison, is "the fairest and most correct edition." Copies were sent to the king, the prince, the Duke of Buckingham, Trinity College, and the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, by all of whom it was duly acknowledged. He sends "the poor fruits of his leisure" to his Majesty, from whose court and presence he was virtually excluded. "This book was the first thing that ever I presented to your Majesty, and it may be will be the last. For I had thought it should have been posthuma proles, but God hath otherwise disposed for a while. It is a translation, but almost enlarged to a new work." He sends to the prince "the Book of Advancement of Learning, translated into Latin, but so enlarged as it may go for a new work ;" and says, "it is a book, he thinks, will live, and be a citizen of the world, as English books are not." To Buckinghain he writes, that "after his Majesty and his Highness, he was ever to have the third turn." This letter is literally a begging one, and so is that to the king, the postscript of which contains a petition worthy of Miserrimus himself. The philosopher was indeed their "prostrate and cast-down servant!" But these humiliating exhibitions are redeemed by the noble and dignified style which he assumes, in addressing the "famous college of Trinity," his alma mater, and her sister of Oxford. The "golden treatise," as Tenison would say, whose translations of these letters we adopt, is thus commended to their notice; and some will be