صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

the number of those who profess to cure them is also increased; and the increase of doctors, again, has multiplied diseases. Old ladies have been supplanted by young gentlemen, who swarm out every spring, by thousands, from hives placed on purpose, in the towns and cities. So many practisers not being able to earn a livelihood, if the medical art remained simple as before, have invented new remedies, which, with the help of new meats and drinks taken copiously, are every day giving birth to new diseases, or new appearances, which warrant the giving of new names. And from the number of competitors, as well as from the number and complexity of maladies, it has become so hard to succeed in practice, that I have taken compassion upon young candidates for medical advancement, and determined to offer them the lights of my experience touching the means of success.

IN YOUR TRAINING for the profession, do not trouble yourself with any private studies before you attend the lectures: it will only blunt the edge of your curiosity in listening to them, and take away their great charm, novelty. Besides, it will plant errors in your mind, which the professors will have to weed out, before they can make their own true notions take root. Let them have you as a blank sheet, upon which to write at once the soundest and purest doctrines. Do not even learn the meaning of any technical phrases before hand; but leave them as knots to untie for your amusement, as the lectures go on. It must add greatly to the interest you will feel; and it will require your attention to be intensely fixed upon the lecturer. Should these knots prove too hard to untie, that is, should the terms of art remain unintelligible to you; comfort yourself with the thought, that obscurity is a part of the sublime: and feast your fancy upon the depth and grandeur those words no doubt involve, if you could but understand them.-Lectures you must be sure to attend: as many courses as may suffice to get you a degree; because the name of a degree is a great thing. It will make you seem learned and wise, though you be neither; and enable you to look down with scorn upon those, who, by the mere vulgar dint of study, experience, kindness, and honesty, are winning the patronage and wealth that rightfully belong to none but the holders of diplomas.

think it rich. Cite books and authors on all occasions:
the more numerous and high-sounding, the better.
Talk of them so familiarly, that the world may think
them your most intimate acquaintance; as London
dandies talk of lords and duchesses, of whom they know
only the titles. Discuss theories boldly. Compare
Sydenham with Boerhaave: question Harvey's claim
to the honor of having discovered the great circulation:
balance the Buononian system with Darwin's; and
blow Broussais sky high, as a fellow who would reduce
the science to the mere art of starvation, no better than
Sangrado's method of bleeding and hot water. How-
ever poor a truism you utter, nail it with authority, thus:
'Cullen and Brown inform us, that a cold, neglected, is
apt either to affect the lungs, or to settle into rheuma-
tism.' So have I heard a pretty gentleman say, “As
Shakspeare observes, 'this is a very fine day.'”

Walk with a slow and solemn gait, as if pressed by a weight of anxiety for numerous patients. Mount your horse often; or if you have a sulky, it will be better; or a close carriage, best of all; and ride or drive as if life were at stake, by places where you will certainly be seen; and let it appear that you are going to see such and such persons, who are dangerously ill. Contrive now and then to have yourself called out from a dining party, or from your bed at midnight, to visit some imaginary patient; but in the latter case, be sure to let the messenger knock at your door loudly enough to wake several of your neighbors, who may hear him call for "Doctor" such a one!

When you happen at length to have a real patient, be mysterious; speak low; feel his pulse with your wisest look; smell the handle of your cane; and give a doubtful prognostic as to the event of his disease. Do not make light of his complaint, however trifling, or groundless; if it be only a finger ache, treat it seriously: examine-dress it-give physic-talk learnedly; and you will be certain in the end to make it a serious affair sure enough to him, and a profitable one to yourself, or else, if all your endeavors fail to aggraate it into a case of danger or difficulty, you may gain vast credit for so quick and easy a cure. Humor the appetites of your patients; despising the newfangled plan, of starving out sickness. What is the surest attendant on disease? Weakness. And what is the opposite of weakness-the attendant and sign of Never dim your eyes and muddy your brain by health? why, strength. And what gives strength ? reading many authors. A medical dictionary, and one Eating and drinking. Therefore, not only permit, but or two books that quote a great many others, will fur- encourage your patients to eat and drink heartily; and nish you with any quantity of technical phrases, and if that produce any ill effects, do you counterwork them with the names of so many authors, that you may by physic. The great virtue of modern improvements show off as a prodigy of learning at a very small ex-in the healing art is, to let men feast on, and then save pense of money, time, labor, or brains. them from the ills which followed feasting in times of

The ways of showing off are various. In conver-ignorance. One thing is certain: if this is not the sation, deliver yourself in long sentences, strung toge-best system for the patient, it is the best for the doctor. ther in speeches the very longest that your hearers You may get both name and money, by playing upon will endure, and uttered with your utmost gravity, and weightiest emphasis. Make it a rule, never to use a word of one or two syllables, where a word of four, five, or six can be pressed into the service; and always to prefer a Greek, or at least a Latin term, to an English one. When you can express an idea by one, or a dozen words at your option, always choose the dozen: for this will make your discourse flowing; and that large class of men with whom words are coin, will

people's imaginations. About one half of every disease is either quite imaginary, or is the effect of imagination. Act upon this hint, and you may generally heighten a malady to what pitch you please, nay create it entire, by feeding the patient's fancy. A hypochondriac, for instance, or a dyspeptic, will believe he has any disease you may name to him: and after you have physicked him to your satisfaction, you may by working his fancy

* Vide the Tale of a Tub.

the other way, often cure him again; unless you have | events, a sufficient reason why you should discountecarried the joke too far, and got him past operating nance it is, that a cool-headed, sober people are the upon. In that case, you have only to take care that the very last to suit your purposes. world shall know it was the obstinacy of his disor- There is one sort of subjects, alone, that should fill der, and not your treatment, that killed him. I would any large space in your journal; and that is politics; not recommend this method of making patients, how-I mean, party politics. What Demosthenes said of ever, unless they be scarce. If you have enough on hand without it, never resort to such an expedient: it is wanton; and conscience ought to be obeyed, when not at variance with interest.

In most cases, when a patient dies under your hands, you may say that you were sent for too late. Especially, if he was first in the care of another doctor, never fail to find something in his treatment, which gave a fatal turn to the malady. If you had been called in sooner (you should say or insinuate) you could have saved the patient.

As soon as you get somewhat ahead in your profession, lose no occasion of sneering at your competitors; above all, at the younger ones, just entering the lists. You will have a thousand opportunities of giving them sly cuts, and jostles, which may keep them down for a long time; perhaps till you be rich, and ready to leave the stage.

By following these precepts, and acting in their spirit whenever they do not literally apply, you cannot help rising high, and rolling in wealth.

CHAPTER II.

ADVICE TO NEWSPAPER EDITORS.

The first thing to be thought of is, what are the great ends of editing a newspaper? Of course, you will answer, first, to strengthen your party, and second, to raise and enrich yourself. Of course, too, you will not let the world know these to be your aims. That, as any simpleton may see, would baulk them at once. No, no. Make the world think, that YOUR COUNTRY is every thing with you; that your party is to be upheld only as a prop to your country; and that your humble self is nothing in your eyes, except as a worker for your party's, that is for your country's good. For you must constantly strive to impress every one with the idea, that your party and your country are the same thing.

A few hints, towards reaching the great ends which it is agreed you should aim at.

Print as many fine sentences as possible, about giving the people light, and about virtue, justice, and expansion of mind: but confine yourself to generalities on these topics. Do not devote any portion of your paper regularly to the elucidation of such truths as really enlarge or refine the public mind: because, in proportion as that is done, the public will become less and less apt to allow you the influence which it is my design to shew you how to obtain. For instance, while you strenuously aver your zeal for morality, do not scruple to support as a candidate for office, a man whose life has been glaringly immoral: and let no paragraph in behalf of the temperance reform (as it is called), or any other such stuff, enter your columns. Indeed, so many preachers, and weak people influenced by them, have enlisted in this temperance cause, that it deserves only a sneer, as a vulgar fanaticism. At all

[ocr errors]

action in speaking, you should hold with regard to politics: make it the first, the second, and the third requisite-the beginning, the middle, and the end, of your newspaper. But do not attempt to take in the whole field. In politics, there are always two sides; one of which is your's and your party's, or the orthodox side; the other is your adversaries', or the wrong side. For orthodoxy' signifies your opinions;' and ‘heresy' or 'heterodoxy' signifies 'opinions opposite to yours,' that is, 'wrong opinions.' Now, let your journal shew forth the merits of none but the orthodox side. Hide the opposite from your readers, with the care of a duenna. Thus, if you are for a particular measure, or system of measures, never print a single argument against it: if you are against it, let no one dream, for you, that a word can be said in its favor. If you are a Clay-man, a Webster-man, or anybody's man (and somebody's man you must be), suppress whatever may raise the slightest suspicion that your favorite has a single fault, or his rival a single virtue. In a word, use all your power to make your own side seem bright, and spotless; and the other side, black as pitch.

When you wish to refute something which, as a whole, is too hard for you, never copy it all into your columns; but only the most vulnerable passages. These, thus 'torn from their context,' like stragglers from a hostile army, you may demolish with perfect ease. In this way, an adversary may be cut up in the finest style, who, if you let him come fully before your readers, may give you no small trouble. The way some editors have, of spreading out in their own papers whatever they mean to combat, (under the romantic notion of shewing their readers both sides) is mere knight-errantry; giving the adversary a foothold within their own camp: a weakness not at all enjoined by modern chivalry.

Able speeches and essays against your party, require especial caution; because there is danger lest your readers chance to see them, and imbibe a heresy that cannot be driven out. Never slight such, therefore, altogether; but publish what may seem their purport; only so abridged, as to be harmless. And always accompany your abridgment with long comments of your own or of some brother partisan, which, in its enfeebled state, may crush it entirely; or at least may forestall the reader's mind so as to prevent its effect upon him. For the editor's remarks are always first read.

Should any one have the hardihood to send you for publication an essay on the other side, do not flatly refuse; for that would give too palpable a ground for calling you unfair and illiberal: but contrive to be much pressed for space just then; or let documents, or essays which have prior claims, or some other imaginabie thing, crowd out the intruder till at length, either he will lose patience and withdraw his piece in disgust; or the nick of time he wrote for, will have passed away, and his readers (if any) will wonder what ails that fellow-to be opening upon a cold trail. If you can find no excuse for delay, or if delay have not

lief in his own infallibility, amongst his readers; which, by proper co-operation, may be extended to those of all the kindred presses; that is, to half, or more, of the community. And, that progress being made, why may we not hope, in less than a century, to see orthodoxy universal?

the desired effect, smother the piece by putting it in [ editor may secure a Turkish unanimity, a catholic besome obscure part of your sheet, where not one eye in ten, of your readers, ever fixes. Or hold it back at any rate until you can write and publish a refutation, or what you may swear is one: thus, like a wise doctor, making the antidote go with the poison. But whichever course you take, protest loudly your love for the liberty of the press, and for free discussion: and glorify your own liberality, in publishing a piece against your

self.

THE RICHMOND LYCEUM, AND ITS

JOURNAL.

There are two other ways of crippling such an adversary. One is, to misprint him; so that the best passages may lose their point and force, by having their chief words turned into others of either no meaning, or a wrong one. The other is, to leave out any pas-"Richmond Lyceum," formed with a view to the imsage, even a whole paragraph or more, that galls you or your side very severely. By this method, many a home thrust has fallen to the ground: and by the former, pithy sentences have become such nonsense, that readers would turn from them with contempt, and the author sicken at the silly figure he made.

An Association in this city, bearing the name of the provement of its members and the encouragement of literary taste and scientific knowledge, will soon commence the publication of a monthly magazine, to be called "THE JOURNAL OF THE RICHMOND LYCEUM;" at the moderate price of one dollar and a half per annum.

The resemblance of character and objects, between this association and the Franklin Institute of Philadelphia, it may be hoped, will exist also between the proproposed magazine, and the justly esteemed 'Journal of the Franklin Institute.' That Institute and its journal, we believe, by diffusing useful knowledge in

You may get a great name for candor, at a cheap rate, by sometimes owning yourself in the wrong, about some trifle; or even about a point of consequence, when you see your mistake or falsehood on the verge of exposure. One such confession will gain you a credit, upon which you may pass off a hundred distor-popular forms, have done and are doing an amount of tions or concealments of truth.

By such means, all who read no paper but yours, will in time come to regard you as infallible. Among them, all heresy will be rooted out: and if all other presses would act with you, orthodoxy would completely triumph. But as this is not yet to be hoped for, you may rest content with two, great benefits, sure to result from the plan here recommended. First, your party, seeing no merits in any other creed, or editor, will keep true to its creed, and to you; nay, perhaps will vanquish its adversary: and secondly, both parties, unable to discern any reason for each other's opinions, will be animated to that patriotic readiness to tear one another in pieces, which is so advantageous to the community, and especially to party leaders and trumpeters.

It is thus, that in certain parts of the world, particular opinions have reigned supreme. It was thus, that in some states of this Union, the tariff at one time so signally triumphed. It is thus, that among certain sets of people at this day, notions, of which the truth is very questionable, are held as axioms. Their newspapers and other oracles, watchfully exclude everything that may excite a doubt as to those notions. It was thus that Europe was lulled for centuries in the arms of the Holy Catholic faith, whose doctors, by wisely locking up the Bible from their flocks, and by those persuasive arguments, the rack and the stake, effectually banished all heresy, till the rebel, Martin Luther, shewed mankind the other side of the question. And it is by kindred means, that now, in Turkey and Russia, eighty millions of people are made to repose in the quiet belief, that the Sultan and the Czar have a divine right to cut off as many heads as may suit their royal pleasure. It would be Utopian perhaps, to hope that in our time at least equal harmony can be produced in this country; but no doubt a great deal may be done by faithfully observing the foregoing counsel. Each

good scarcely surpassed by any other kindred enterprise in the world. May they be successfully emulated, by the young institution in Richmond! A fuller notice will be taken of the latter, hereafter.

NEGLECT OF TIME.

BY J. C. BRENT.

The clock is to the eye

What reason's to the soul;
Yet moments hasten by,
And man heeds not their roll:
In dreams forgets the hour
Which silently goes on,
Until 'tis past his pow'r

To call back what is gone.
In vain the clock doth sound
Its warnings on the ear;
In folly's meshes bound,

He has not time to hear.

Though reason points the way,
And profit may await,
He learns not to obey,
Until it is too late.

He seems to pass through life,
As if it had no close,
As if it were not rife
With vanity and woes.
He marks with heedless eye
The hours receding fast,
Till time for him must die,

And hope depart at last.

LORD BACON.*

PART I.

Trinity College, Cambridge. It has often been said that Bacon, while still at college, planned that great intellectual revolution with which his name is inseparably connected. The evidence on this subject, however, is hardly sufficient to prove what is in itself so improbable, as that any definite scheme of that kind should have Birth-education--father's death-his uncle, Lord Burleigh, been so early formed, even by so powerful and active a and cousin, Robert Cecil-their jealousy-his law-studies-dis- mind. But it is certain, that after a residence of three appointments-figure in Parliament-his patriotism rebuked-

HIS LIFE, AND CHARACTER.

abject submission--friendship and generosity of Essex--Bacon's years at Cambridge, Bacon departed, carrying with Essays--fall of Essex, and Bacon's ingratitude-death of Queen him a profound contempt for the course of study purElizabeth-accession of James I--his character--Bacon's knight-sued there; a fixed conviction that the system of acadehood and marriage--Bacon and Waller compared-successive mic education in England was radically vicious; a just promotions--his treatise on the "Advancement of Learning"-- scorn for the trifles on which the followers of Aristotle other works-his oppression of Peacham-Coke's manly resist had wasted their powers, and no great reverence for ance---Bacon's patron, Villiers, Duke of Buckingham---Bacon made Councillor,--Lord Keeper, ---and Lord Chancellor...his Aristotle himself. corruptions as judge---impeachment---conviction and disgrace... sentence-pardon---literary pursuits---death.

In his sixteenth year, he visited Paris, and resided there for some time, under the care of Sir Amias Paulet, FRANCIS BACON, the youngest son of Sir Nicholas Elizabeth's minister at the French court, and one of the Bacon, was born at York House, his father's residence ablest and most upright of the many valuable servants in the Strand, on the 22d of January, 1561. His health whom she employed. France was at that time in a was very delicate, and to this circumstance may be deplorable state of agitation. The Huguenots and the partly attributed that gravity of carriage, and that love Catholics were mustering all their forces for the fiercest of sedantary pursuits, which distinguished him from and most protracted of their many struggles: while the other boys. Every body knows how much his prema-Prince, whose duty it was to protect and to restrain ture readiness of wit, and sobriety of deportment, amused the Queen; and how she used to call him her young Lord Keeper. We are told that while still a mere child, he stole away from his playfellows to a vault in St. James's fields, for the purpose of investigating the cause of a singular echo which he had observed there. It is certain that, at only twelve, he busied himself with very ingenious speculations on the art of legerdemain, a subject which, as Professor Dugald Stewart has most justly observed, merits much more attention from philosophers than it has ever received. These are trifles. But the eminence which Bacon afterwards attained renders them interesting.

In the thirteenth year of his age, he was entered at *The Edinburg Review for July contains an article of great length, but far greater ability, upon Basil Montagu's voluminous edition of Bacon's works, and history of his life. The article so teems with interesting facts, and contains what we take to be so just a view of Bacon's character, and so clear as well as just an exposition of his philosophy, that we cannot forbear enabling all our readers to share the pleasure and benefit derivable from the perusal. To this end, we cull those paragraphs and pages which are necessary to present an unbroken thread of narrative or of disquisition, and print them continuously; omitting little, besides the reviewer's discussions with Mr. Montagu, of some points on which that gentleman, with the amiable though too common weakness of biographers, is a mere apologist for his hero. The portions thus culled, we arrange in three divisions, with a table of contents to each; the first containing the Reviewer's sketch of Lord Bacon's life and character, and the other two a view of his philosophy--and a triumphant contrast of its useful aims, with the sounding emptiness of that taught by the ancient philosophers. We give translations of the passages in foreign tongues; hoping that unlearned as well as learned readers, will be attracted by this masterly performance. And we have tried so to mould the several parts together, and give it so much the appearance of a consistent whole, that no one might suppose it to be other than an original and independent Life of Bacon, and account of his works, but for this declaration to the

both, had by his vices and follies degraded himself so deeply that he had no authority over either. Bacon, however, made a tour through several provinces, and appears to have passed some time at Poitiers. We have abundant proof that during his stay on the Continent he did not neglect literary and scientific pursuits. But his attention seems to have been chiefly directed to statistics and diplomacy. It was at this time that he wrote those Notes on the State of Europe which are printed in his works. He studied the principles of the art of deciphering with great interest; and invented one cipher so ingenious that, many years later, he thought it deserving of a place in the De Augmentis. received intelligence of the almost sudden death of his In February, 1580, while engaged in these pursuits, he father, and instantly returned to England.

His prospects were greatly overcast by this event. He was most desirous to obtain a provision which might enable him to devote himself to literature and politics. He applied to the Government, and it seems strange that he should have applied in vain. His wishes were moderate. His hereditary claims on the administration were great. He had himself been favorably noticed by the Queen. His uncle was Prime Minister. His own talents were such as any minister might have been eager to enlist in the public service. But his solicitations were unsuccessful. The truth is, that the Cecils disliked him, and did all that they could decently do to keep him down. It has never been alleged that Bacon had done anything to merit this dislike; nor is it at all probable that a man whose temper was naturally mild, whose manners were courteous, who, through life, nursed his fortunes with the utmost care, and who was fearful even to a fault of offending the powerful-would have given any just cause of displeasure to a kinsman who had the means of rendering No reader will finish this article, exhibiting the amazing in him essential service, and of doing him irreparable intellect and weak (not bad) heart of the wonderful man it com-jury. The real explanation, we have no doubt, is this: memorates, without regarding as literally true, that line which

contrary.

calls him

"The greatest, wisest, meanest,---of mankind."

Robert Cecil, the Treasurer's second son, was younger by a few months than Bacon. He had been educated with the utmost care; had been initiated, while still a VOL. IV.-2

boy, in the mysteries of diplomacy and court-intrigue ; | sharp lecture on his vanity, and want of respect for his and was just at this time about to be produced on the betters. Francis returned a most submissive reply, stage of public life. The wish nearest to Burleigh's thanked the Treasurer for the admonition, and proheart was that his own greatness might descend to this mised to profit by it. Strangers meanwhile were less favorite child. But even Burleigh's fatherly partiality unjust to the young barrister than his nearest kinsmen could hardly prevent him from perceiving that Robert, had been. In his twenty-sixth year he became a benchwith all his abilities and acquirements, was no matcher of his Inn; and two years later he was appointed for his cousin Francis. That Bacon himself attributed | Lent reader. At length, in 1590, he obtained for the the conduct of his relatives to jealousy of his superior first time some show of favor from the Court. He was talents, we have not the smallest doubt. In a letter, sworn in Queen's Counsel extraordinary. But this written many years after to Villiers, he expresses him- mark of honor was not accompanied by any pecuniary self_thus :“ Countenance, encourage, and advance | emolument. He continued, therefore, to solicit his able men in all kinds, degrees, and professions. For in the time of the Cecils, the father and the son, able men were by design and of purpose suppressed."

Whatever Burleigh's motives might be, his purpose was unalterable. The supplications which Francis addressed to his uncle and aunt were earnest, humble, and almost servile. He was the most promising and accomplished young man of his time. His father had been the brother-in-law, the most useful colleague, the nearest friend of the minister. But all this availed poor Francis nothing. He was forced, much against his will, to betake himself to the study of the law. He was admitted at Gray's Inn, and, during some years, he labored there in obscurity.

،،

What the extent of his legal attainments may have been, it is difficult to say. It was not hard for a man of his powers to acquire that very moderate portion of technical knowledge which, when joined to quickness, tact, wit, ingenuity, eloquence, and knowledge of the world, is sufficient to raise an advocate to the highest professional eminence. The general opinion appears to have been that which was on one occasion expressed by Elizabeth. 'Bacon," said she, "hath a great wit and much learning; but in law sheweth to the uttermost of his knowledge, and is not deep." The Cecils, we suspect, did their best to spread this opinion by whispers and insinuations. Coke openly proclaimed it with that rancorous insolence which was habitual to him. No reports are more readily believed than those which disparage genius and soothe the envy of conscious mediocrity. It must have been inexpressibly consoling to a stupid sergeant,-the forerunner of him who, a hundred and fifty years later, "shook his head at Murray as a wit,”—to know that the most profound thinker, and the most accomplished orator of the age, was very imperfectly acquainted with the law touching bastard eigné and mulier puisné, and confounded the right of free fishery with that of common piscary.

powerful relatives for some provision which might enable him to live without drudging at his profession. He bore with a patience and serenity which, we fear, bordered on meanness, the morose humors of his uncle, and the sneering reflections which his cousin cast on speculative men, lost in philosophical dreams, and too wise to be capable of transacting public business. At length the Cecils were generous enough to procure for him the reversion of the Registrarship of the Star Chamber. This was a lucrative place, but as many years elapsed before it fell in, he was still under the necessity of laboring for his daily bread.

In the Parliament which was called in 1593 he sat as member for the county of Middlesex, and soon attained eminence as a debater. It is easy to perceive from the scanty remains of his oratory, that the same compactness of expression and richness of fancy which appear in his writings characterized his speeches; and that his extensive acquaintance with literature and history enabled him to entertain his audience with a vast variety of illustrations and allusions which were generally happy and apposite, but which were probably not least pleasing to the taste of that age when they were such as would now be thought childish or pedantic. It is evident also that he was, as indeed might have been expected, perfectly free from those faults which are generally found in an advocate who, after having risen to eminence at the bar, enters the House of Commons; that it was his habit to deal with every great question, not in small detached portions, but as a whole; that he refined little, and that his reasonings were those of a capacious rather than a subtle mind. Ben Jonson, a most unexceptionable judge, has described his eloquence in words, which, though often quoted, will bear to be quoted again. “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. No man ever spoke more neatly, It is certain that no man in that age, or indeed during more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptithe century and a half which followed, was better ac-ness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of quainted with the philosophy of law. His technical | his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers knowledge was quite sufficient, with the help of his admirable talents, and his insinuating address, to procure clients. He rose very rapidly into business, and soon entertained hopes of being called within the bar. He applied to Lord Burleigh for that purpose, but received a testy refusal. Of the grounds of that refusal we can in some measure judge by Bacon's answer, which is still extant. It seems that the old Lord, whose temper, age and gout had by no means altered for the better, and who omitted no opportunity of marking his dislike of the showy, quick-witted young men of the rising generation, took this opportunity to read Francis a very

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." From the mention which is made of judges, it would seem that Jonson had heard Bacon only at the bar. Indeed we imagine that the House of Commons was then almost inaccessible to strangers. It is not probable that a man of Bacon's nice observation would speak in Parliament exactly as he spoke in the Court of King's Bench. But the graces of manner and lan

« السابقةمتابعة »