aright unto God. No man cometh unto God to offer him sacrifice, to pour out supplications and prayers before him, or to do him any service, which doth not first believe him both to be, and to be a rewarder of them who in such sort seek unto him. Let men be taught this, either by revelation from heaven, or by instruction upon earth; by labour, study, and meditation, or by the only secret inspiration of the Holy Ghost; whatsoever the mean be they know it by, if the knowledge thereof were possible without discourse of natural reason, why should none be found capable thereof but only men; nor men till such time as they come unto ripe and full ability to work by reasonable understanding? The whole drift of the Scripture of God, what is it, but only to teach theology? Theology, what is it, but the science of things divine? What science can be attained unto, without the help of natural discourse and reason? Judge you of that which I speak, saith the apostle. In vain it were to speak anything of God, but that by reason men are able somewhat to judge of that they hear, and by dis-raising up of men's hearts, and the sweetening of their course to discern how consonant it is to truth. Scripture, indeed, teacheth things above nature, things which our reason by itself could not reach unto. Yet those also we believe, knowing by reason that the Scripture is the word of God. The thing we have handled according to the question moved about it, which question is, whether the light of reason be so pernicious, that, in devising laws for the church, men ought not by it to search what may be fit and convenient? For this cause, therefore, we have endeavoured to make it appear, how, in the nature of reason itself, there is no impediment, but that the self-same spirit which revealeth the things that God hath set down in his law, may also be thought to aid and direct men in finding out, by the light of reason, what laws are expedient to be made for the guiding of his church, over and besides them that are in Scripture.

*

[Church Music.]

Touching musical harmony, whether by instrument or by voice, it being but of high and low in sounds a due proportionable disposition, such notwithstanding is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath in that very part of man which is most divine, that some have been thereby induced to think that the soul itself by nature is, or hath in it, harmony; a thing which delighteth all ages, and beseemeth all states; a thing as seasonable in grief as in joy; as decent, being added unto actions of greatest weight and solemnity, as being used when men most sequester themselves from action. The reason hereof is an admirable facility which music hath to express and represent to the mind, more inwardly than any other sensible mean, the very standing, rising, and falling, the very steps and inflections every way, the turns and varieties of all passions whereunto the mind is subject; yea, so to imitate them, that, whether it resemble unto us the same state wherein our minds already are, or a clean contrary, we are not more contentedly by the one confirmed, than changed and led away by the other. In harmony, the very image and character even of virtue and vice is perceived, the mind delighted with their resemblances, and brought by having them often iterated into a love of the things themselves. For which cause there is nothing more contagious and pestilent than some kinds of harmony; than some, nothing more strong and potent unto good. And that there is such a difference of one kind from another, we need no proof but our own experience, inasmuch as we are at the hearing of some more inclined unto sorrow and heaviness, of some more mollified and softened in mind; one kind apter to stay and settle us, another to move and stir our affections; there is that draweth to a marvellous grave and sober mediocrity; there is

also that carrieth, as it were, into ecstacies, filling the mind with a heavenly joy, and for the time in a manner severing it from the body; so that, although we lay altogether aside the consideration of ditty or matter, the very harmony of sounds being framed in due sort, and carried from the ear to the spiritual faculties of our souls, is, by a native puissance and efficacy, greatly available to bring to a perfect temper whatsoever is there troubled; apt as well to quicken the spirits as to allay that which is too eager; sovereign against melancholy and despair; forcible to draw forth tears of devotion, if the mind be such as can yield them; able both to move and to moderate all affections. The prophet David having, therefore, singular knowledge, not in poetry alone, but in music also, judged them both to be things most necessary for the house of God, left behind him to that purpose a number of divinely-indited poems, and was further the author of adding unto poetry melody in public prayer; melody, both vocal and instrumental, for the affections towards God. In which considerations the church of Christ doth likewise at this present day retain it as an ornament to God's service, and an help to our own devotion. They which, under pretence of the law ceremonial abrogated, require the abrogation of instrumental music, approving, nevertheless, the use of vocal melody to remain, must show some reason wherefore the one should be thought a legal ceremony, and not the other. In church music, curiosity or ostentation of art, wanton, or light, or unsuitable harmony, such as only pleaseth the ear, and doth not naturally serve to the very kind and degree of those impressions which the matter that goeth with it leaveth, or is apt to leave, in men's minds, doth rather blemish and disgrace that we do, than add either beauty or furtherance unto it. On the other side, the faults prevented, the force and efficacy of the thing itself, when it drowneth not utterly, but fitly suiteth with matter altogether sounding to the praise of God, is in truth most admirable, and doth much edify, if not the understanding, because it teacheth not, yet surely the affection, because therein it worketh much. They must have hearts very dry and tough, from whom the melody of the psalms doth not sometime draw that wherein a mind religiously affected delighteth.

LORD BACON.

But the fame of Hooker, as indeed of all his contemporaries, is outshone by that of the illustrious LORD BACON. Francis Bacon, son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord-keeper of the great seal, was born in London on the 22d of January 1561, and in childhood displayed such vivacity of intellect and sedateness of behaviour, that Queen Elizabeth used to call him her young lord-keeper. At the age of thirteen, he was sent to Cambridge, where, so early as his sixteenth year, he became disgusted with the Aristotelian philosophy, which then held unquestioned sway in the great English schools of learning. This dislike of the philosophy of Aristotle, as Bacon himself declared to his secretary Dr Rawley, he fell into 'not for the worthlessness of the author, to whom he would ever ascribe all high attributes, but for the unfruitfulness of the way; being a philosophy, as his lordship used to say, only strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefit of the life of man. After spending about four years at Cambridge, he travelled in France, his acute observations in which country were afterwards published in a work entitled Of the State of Europe. By the sudden death of his father in 1579, he was compelled to return hastily to England, and engage

*Rawley's Life of Bacon.

in some profitable occupation. After in vain soliciting his uncle, Lord Burleigh, to procure for him such a provision from government as might allow him to devote his time to literature and philosophy, he spent several years in the study of the law. While engaged in practice as a barrister, however, he did not forget philosophy, as it appears that he

fr Bacon

Bacon was in some measure led by pecuniary difficulties, into which his improvident and ostentatious habits, coupled with the relative inadequacy of his revenues, had plunged him. By maintaining himself in the good graces of the court, he hoped to secure that professional advancement which would not only fill his empty coffers, but gratify those ambitions longings which had arisen in his mind. But temptations of this sort, though they may palliate, can never excuse such immoralities as those which Bacon on this and future occasions showed himself capable of.

After the accession of James, the fortunes of Bacon began to improve. He was knighted in 1603, and, in subsequent years, obtained successively the offices of king's counsel, solicitor-general, judge of the Marshalsea court, and attorney-general. This last appointment he received in 1613. In the execu tion of his duties, he did not scruple to lend himself to the most arbitrary measures of the court, and even assisted in an attempt to extort from an old clergyman, of the name of Peacham, a confession of treason, by torturing him on the rack.

Although his income had now been greatly enlarged by the emoluments of office and a marriage with the daughter of a wealthy alderman, his extravagance, and that of his servants, which he seems to have been too good-natured to check, continued to keep him in difficulties. He cringed before the king and his favourite Villiers; and at length, in 1619, reached the summit of his ambition, by being created Lord High Chancellor of England, and Baron Verulam. This latter title gave place in the following year to that of Viscount St Albans. As chancellor, it cannot be concealed that, both in his political and judicial capacities, he grossly deserted his duty. Not only did he suffer Villiers to intersketched at an early period of life his great work fere with his decisions as a judge, but, by accepting called The Instauration of the Sciences. In 1590, he numerous presents or bribes from suitors, gave obtained the post of Counsel Extraordinary to the occasion, in 1621, to a parliamentary inquiry, queen; and three years afterwards, sat in parliament which ended in his condemnation and disgrace. He for the county of Middlesex. As an orator, he is fully confessed the twenty-three articles of corhighly extolled by Ben Jonson. In one of his ruption which were laid to his charge; and when speeches, he distinguished himself by taking the waited on by a committee of the House of Lords, popular side in a question respecting some large sub-appointed to inquire whether the confession was sidies demanded by the court; but finding that he subscribed by himself, he answered, 'It is my act, had given great offence to her majesty, he at once my hand, my heart: I beseech your lordships to be altered his tone, and condescended to apologise with merciful to a broken reed.' Banished from public that servility which unhappily appeared in too many life, he had now ample leisure to attend to his philoof his subsequent actions. To Lord Burleigh and sophical and literary pursuits. Yet, even while his son Robert Cecil, Bacon continued to crouch in he was engaged in business, these had not been the hope of advancement, till at length, finding neglected. In 1597, he published the first edition of himself disappointed in that quarter, he attached his Essays, which were afterwards greatly enlarged. himself to Burleigh's rival, Essex, who, with the These, as he himself says of them, come home to utmost ardour of a generous friendship, endeavoured men's business and bosoms; and, like the late new to procure for him, in 1594, the vacant office of halfpence, the pieces are small, and the silver is attorney-general. In this attempt he was defeated, good.' From the generally interesting nature of the through the influence of the Cecils, who were jealous subjects of the Essays,' and the excellence of their of both him and his friend; but he in some de- style, this work immediately acquired great popugree soothed Bacon's disappointment by presenting to larity, and to the present day continues the most him an estate at Twickenham, worth two thousand generally read of all the author's productions. 'It pounds. It is painful to relate in what manner is also,' to use the words of Mr Dugald Stewart, Bacon repaid such benefits. When Essex was brought one of those where the superiority of his genius to trial for a conspiracy against the queen, the friend appears to the greatest advantage, the novelty and whom he had so largely obliged and confided in, not depth of his reflections often receiving a strong relief only deserted him in the hour of need, but unneces- from the triteness of his subject. It may be read sarily appeared as counsel against him, and by every from beginning to end in a few hours, and yet, after art and distorting ingenuity of a pleader, endeavoured the twentieth perusal, one seldom fails to remark in to magnify his crimes. He complied, moreover, it something overlooked before. This, indeed, is a after the earl's execution, with the queen's request characteristic of all Bacon's writings, and is only to that he would write A Declaration of the Practices be accounted for by the inexhaustible aliment they and Treasons Attempted and Committed by Robert, Earl furnish to our own thoughts, and the sympathetic of Essex, which was printed by authority. Into activity they impart to our torpid faculties."* In this conduct, which indicates a lamentable want of *First Preliminary Dissertation to Encyclopædia Britan high moral principle, courage, and self-respect, nica,' p. 36, seventh edition.

ing strikingly prophetic passage is found: My name and memory I leave to foreign nations, and to mine own country after some time is passed over.'

which men have accustomed likewise to beautify and adorn with accomplishments of magnificence and state, as well as of use and necessity; so knowledge, whether it descend from divine inspiration or spring from human sense, would soon perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not preserved in books, traditions, conferences, and places appointed, as universities, colleges, and schools, for the receipt and comforting

the same.

[Libraries.]

Libraries are as the shrines where all the relics of the ancient saints, full of true virtue, and that without delusion or imposture, are preserved and reposed.

[Government.]

In Orpheus's theatre, all beasts and birds assembled ; and, forgetting their several appetites, some of prey, some of game, some of quarrel, stood all sociably together, listening unto the airs and accords of the harp; the sound whereof no sooner ceased, or was drowned by some louder noise, but every beast returned to his own nature; wherein is aptly described the nature and condition of men, who are full of savage and unreclaimed desires of profit, of lust, of revenge: which, as long as they give ear to precepts, to laws, to religion, sweetly touched with eloquence and persuasion of books, of sermons, of harangues, so long is society and peace maintained; but if these instruments be silent, or sedition and tumult make them not audible, all things dissolve into anarchy and confusion.

[Prosperity and Adversity.]

The virtue of prosperity is temperance; the virtue of adversity is fortitude. Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament; adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater benediction and the clearer revelation of God's favour. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you Bacon, like Sidney, was a 'warbler of poetic prose.' shall hear as many hearselike airs as carols; and the No English writer has surpassed him in fervour and pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in debrilliancy of style, in force of expression, or in rich-scribing the afflictions of Job than the felicities of ness and significance of imagery. Keen in dis- Solomon. Prosperity is not without many fears and covering analogies where no resemblance is apparent distastes; and adversity is not without comforts and to common eyes, he has sometimes indulged to hopes. We see in needle-works and embroideries, it excess in the exercise of his talent. Yet, in general, is more pleasing to have a lively work upon a sad and his comparisons are not less clear and apposite than solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy full of imagination and meaning. He has treated of work upon a lightsome ground; judge therefore of the philosophy with all the splendour, yet none of the pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the eye. Cervagueness, of poetry, Sometimes his style possesses tainly, virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant a degree of conciseness very rarely to be found in the where they are incensed or crushed: for prosperity compositions of the Elizabethan age. Of this qua- doth best discover vice, but adversity doth best dislity the last of the subjoined extracts is a notable cover virtue. illustration.

[Universities.]

As water, whether it be the dew of heaven or the springs of the earth, doth scatter and lose itself in the ground, except it be collected into some receptacle, where it may by union comfort and sustain itself; and, for that cause, the industry of man hath framed and made spring-heads, conduits, cisterns, and pools;

Persons,' ii. 227. At pages 222 and 602 of the same volume, we learn that Hobbes was a favourite with Bacon, who was wont to have him walk with him in his delicate groves, when he did meditate: and when a notion darted into his lordship's mind, Mr Hobbes was presently to write it down, and his lordship was wont to say that he did it better than any one else about him; for that many times, when he read their notes, he scarce understood what they writ, because they understood it not clearly themselves.' He assisted his lordship in translating

several of his essays into Latin.'

[Friendship.]

It had been hard for him that spake it, to have put in that speech, Whosoever is delighted in solitude, more truth and untruth together in few words, than is either a wild beast or a god;' for it is most true, that a natural and secret hatred and aversion towards society, in any man, hath somewhat of the savage beast; but it is most untrue, that it should have any character at all of the divine nature, except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher conversation: such as is found to have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathens-as Epimenides, the Candian; Numa, the Roman; Empedocles, the Sicilian; and Apollonius, of Tyana; and truly, and really, in divers of the ancient hermits and holy fathers of the church. But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth ; for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and

16

The second fruit of friendship is healthful and sovereign for the understanding, as the first is for the affections; for friendship maketh indeed a fair day in the affections from storm and tempests, but it maketh daylight in the understanding, out of dark ness and confusion of thoughts. Neither is this to be understood only of faithful counsel, which a man receiveth from his friend; but before you come to that, certain it is, that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understandA principal fruit of friendship is the ease and dis- ing do clarify and break up, in the communicating charge of the fulness of the heart, which passions of and discoursing with another: he tosseth his thoughts all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of more easily-he marshalleth them more orderly-he stoppings and suffocations are the most dangerous in seeth how they look when they are turned into words the body, and it is not much otherwise in the mind-finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and that you may take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the more by an hour's discourse than by a day's medispleen, flour of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for tation. It was well said by Themistocles to the king the brain; but no receipt openeth the heart but a of Persia, That speech was like cloth of Arras, opened true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or confession.