mind to the cultivation of philosophy, his true field of labour. With
the exception of his Reign of Henry the Seventh, and a tract written
against the match between Prince Charles and the Infanta of Spain, the
five last years of his life were spent in making philosophical
experiments, and in moulding his works to a more perfect form. It was
his great wish that what he had written should be translated into the
general language of learning, Latin; consequently much of his time
during this period was employed in translating himself, or revising the
translations of his friends. His chief labour, however, was the
reduction of his Instauration to a most highly finished state of
aphorisms. He took incredible pains with this great performance. His
biographer and editor, Dr. Rawley, declares that this work was revised
and corrected, almost re-written, at least ten times, and finally left
_unfinished_: for a book which taught what was known in the world, and
wherein that knowledge was defective or pretended; which professed to
teach a new system, by which general laws should be made for the
foundation of true science; and which pointed out what remained to be
known, was indeed rather the undertaking of many lives of manhood, than
a few years of one suffering under a load of debt, disgrace, infirmity,
and age. The peculiarity of Bacon’s philosophical doctrine may be
expressed in few words. He found that the beliefs of learned men (apart
from religious beliefs) rested upon the authority of one unquestionably
great intelligence, Aristotle, who had invented laws of science,
unfounded except in the speculations of his own mind, and many of them
misunderstood by his idolizers. These laws were given or made, and facts
were supposed to follow from them necessarily and without question. But
Bacon proposed to found his general laws on actual experiments. So that
when by a multitude of facts arising from this course of proceeding,
laws should be produced which fairly accounted for phenomena, the
application of such laws might farther become the confirmation of fresh
and, it may be, more difficult, combinations. It is curious that Bacon’s
own experiments should, for the most part, be so signally frivolous and
inconclusive. This may be accounted for, in some measure, by the novelty
of the method,—his own defence, for he was aware of the fact, is, “that
he did not like to throw away any experiment, however seeming foolish,
in case that some spark of truth should be contained in it, or suggested
by it.” But he certainly did not possess the power of applying his own
principles to practice, and far better examples of the inductive powers
may be found, even in the labours of his predecessors, than any which
his own writings afford.
After having spent five years in this labour for posterity, on the 9th
of April, 1626, Bacon died at the age of 66, at the house of Lord
Arundel, in Highgate, on his way to London. A week’s acute illness
carried him to his grave. He was buried at Old Verulam, and for a long
time no “stone told where he lay,” till the affection of an old servant
erected a marble monument to the memory of his noble master. His name
was well known among the continental nations, and he himself was
understood and appreciated by them, to a far greater extent than by his
fellow-countrymen. Some allusion to this is found in his will, in which,
after having commended his soul to God, and his body to the dust, he
proceeds, prophetically, to “bequeath his name and fame to foreign
nations, and to his own countrymen after some time be passed over.”
The character of Bacon has been held up as an extraordinary anomaly, as
containing the extremes of strength and weakness. Pope was pleased to
call him
“The greatest, wisest, meanest of mankind,”
probably for the sake of the powerful contrast presented in the line.
That his great strength lay in his intellectual powers there is no
doubt, but that his moral power was slight enough for him to deserve the
character of “meanest of mankind,” is not to be believed. The wrong he
did to Essex is perhaps the strongest stain that remains on his memory.
The charge of bribery is not so heinous in him as it appears to be at
first sight. He says (and though it be a sophism yet it has some
weight,) “that he never sold injustice,” nor did he: his decrees were
pronounced without regard to the parties concerned, and were none of
them reversed; moreover, judicial bribery was not thought so vicious
then as it is now; in France, it was open and daily. Of the twenty-two
charges brought against him, five only were really for bribery, that is,
while the suit was pending. The rest were presents. He had lived in want
for the greater portion of his life, and becoming suddenly rich, and
full of various business, he was naturally careless of expenses, and
left a great deal more than he ought to have done in the hands of his
servants; who lived upon him so extravagantly, that on passing through
his hall (when they rose at his presence) he said, “Sit down, my
masters, your rise hath been my fall.” There is also every reason to
believe that he was induced to suppress his defence by the intrigues of
James, and his favourite Buckingham; to whose escape he had the weakness
to let himself be made a sacrifice. He has been accused of cringing to
this powerful favourite in less important particulars; but his letters
are no more than a type of the usual style of an inferior to a superior
in the Court in which he lived. He fell upon hard times, first the
courtier of a princess whose thirst of praise and requisition of
humility was unbounded, then the courtier and servant of a king who all
but believed himself to be a god. The most marvellous fact of Bacon’s
character is, that he who knew men so well, and whose insight into their
feelings and motives was so clear, should have been so blind as to
remain totally ignorant, as is apparent from all his letters and
writings, of that youthful spirit of freedom which in the subsequent
reign sprung into such vigorous manhood. But he seems to have been “the
king’s true chancellor,” and to have believed most firmly in that Divine
right for which James argued and his son died.
Bacon’s private character was generous and humane almost to a fault. His
manners were exceedingly winning, and his method of drawing from all
sorts of men the information belonging to their separate callings was
wonderful. He was constitutionally timid, and was always in weak health.
His person was slightly above the common height, his countenance most
dignified, and intellectually commanding.
[Illustration: [Statue of Lord Bacon in St. Michael’s Church, St.
Alban’s.]]
[Illustration:
_Engraved by W. Holl._
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
_From a Bust by Chantrey._
Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.
_London, Published by Charles Knight & C^o. Ludgate Street._
]
[Illustration]
SIR W. SCOTT.
Walter Scott was born in the Old Town of Edinburgh, April 15, 1771, in a
house at the head of the College Wynd, which has been pulled down to
make way for the new buildings of the University. His father was a
writer to the signet, his grandfather a farmer resident in
Roxburghshire, who traced his descent to the ancient Border family of
Scott of Harden. His infancy gave no promise of the robust manhood which
he attained: and in addition to general weakness of constitution, his
right foot received an early injury, which rendered him lame through
life. This delicacy of health induced his parents to send him, when
almost an infant, to his grandfather’s farm at Sandyknow in
Roxburghshire, adjoining the Border fortress called Smailholm Tower, in
the heart of that romantic pastoral district whose scenery and legends
he has rendered famous. [5]“His residence at this secluded spot, which
after early boyhood was, we believe, occasionally renewed during the
summer vacations of the High School and College, was undoubtedly fraught
with many advantages, physical and mental. It was here that his feeble
constitution was, by the aid of free air and exercise, gradually
strengthened into robustness; and though he never got rid of his
lameness, it was so far overcome as to be in after life rather a
deformity than an inconvenience. It was here that his love of ballad
lore and border story was fostered into a passion; and it was here
doubtless, and at the house of one of his uncles, Mr. Thomas Scott, of
Woolee, also a Roxburghshire farmer, that he early acquired that
intimate acquaintance with the manners, character, and language of the
Scottish peasantry, which he afterwards turned to such admirable account
in his novels.”
Footnote 5:
This, and the other passages marked with inverted commas, except those
taken from Scott’s Autobiography, are derived from a memoir of Sir
Walter Scott published in the Penny Magazine, No. 37, and written by
Scott’s countryman and acquaintance, the late Mr. Pringle.
In October, 1779, he entered the High School of Edinburgh, which he
attended during four years. He there acquired the character of being “a
remarkably active and dauntless boy, full of all manner of fun, and
ready for all manner of mischief;” and so far from being timid or quiet
on account of his lameness, that very defect, (as he himself remarked to
be usually the case in similar circumstances with boys of enterprising
disposition) prompted him to take the lead among all the stirring boys
in the street where he lived, or the school which he attended. In Greek
and Latin he made little progress, and obtained little credit for talent
or industry from his masters; but he has invoked his surviving
school-fellows, in the Introduction to the last edition of the Waverley
Novels, “to bear witness that I had a distinguished character for talent
as a tale-teller, at a time when the applause of my companions was the
recompense for the disgraces and punishments which the future
romance-writer incurred for being idle himself, and keeping others idle,
during hours of the day that should have been employed upon our tasks.”
He entered the University of Edinburgh in October, 1783; but his
attendance there was only for two sessions. About the age of fifteen the
rupture of a blood-vessel again reduced him to a very weak state, and
during the space of two years bodily and mental exertion were forbidden.
He had recourse for amusement to a circulating library, “rich,” he says,
“in works of fiction, from the romances of chivalry, and the ponderous
folios of Cyrus and Cassandra, down to the most approved works of later
times. I was plunged into this great ocean of reading without compass or
pilot, and unless when some one had the charity to play at chess with me
I was allowed to do nothing, save read, from morning to night.... I
believe I read almost all the old romances, old plays, and epic poetry
in that formidable collection, and no doubt was unconsciously amassing
materials for the task in which it has been my lot to be so much
employed. At the same time I did not in all respects abuse the license
permitted me. Familiar acquaintance with the specious miracles of
fiction brought with it some degree of satiety, and I began by degrees
to seek in histories, memoirs, voyages and travels, and the like, events
nearly as wonderful as those which were the work of the imagination,
with the additional advantage that they were at least in a great measure
true. The lapse of two years, during which I was left to the service of
my own free will, was followed by a temporary residence in the country,
where I was again very lonely but for the amusement which I derived from
a good though old-fashioned library. The vague and wild use which I made
of this advantage I cannot describe better than by referring my reader
to the desultory studies of Waverley in a similar situation; the
passages concerning whose reading were imitated from recollections of my
own.”
After recovering from this illness his constitution changed, and he
became unusually robust, and capable of enduring great bodily and mental
fatigue; even his lameness occasioning no serious inconvenience. He then
applied himself in earnest to the study of law, and, to acquire a
thorough knowledge of its technicalities, went through the duties of a
clerk in his father’s office. He completed the usual course of legal
education, and was called to the bar in July, 1792. He seemed however
little anxious for business; and as usual, business unsought came
slowly: in his legal capacity he acquired neither wealth nor
distinction. But, in amends for this, in those days of volunteer corps,
he made an admirable quarter-master to the Edinburgh Light Dragoons; and
his zeal and skill, and the popularity which his high powers of social
entertainment procured, recommended him to the friendship of the Duke of
Buccleugh, by whose interest he obtained, in December, 1799, the
appointment of Sheriff of Selkirkshire, with a salary of 300_l._ He had
married in 1797 Miss Carpenter, a lady of foreign birth but English
parentage, possessed of fortune sufficient, when added to the salary of
his office, and his own patrimonial inheritance, to release him from the
necessity of labouring at the bar for a livelihood. This was a step on
which his mind had been some time bent. “My profession and I,” he says,
“came to stand nearly on the footing which honest Slender consoled
himself on having established with Mistress Anne Page—‘There was no
great love between us at the beginning, and it pleased Heaven to
decrease it on farther acquaintance.’ I became sensible that the time
was come when I must either buckle myself resolutely to ‘the toil by
day, the lamp by night,’ renouncing all the Dalilahs of my imagination,
or bid adieu to the profession of the law, and hold another course.”
Scott was not a premature writer; he had reached his twenty-fifth year
before he tried his strength in composition, excepting a few trivial
attempts in childhood; and his name was still unknown to the public,
when he resolved to devote his powers to literature. His first essays
were made about 1796, when his attention was caught by the Leonora, and
other poems of Bürger, which he translated and published anonymously.
“The adventure,” he says, “proved a dead loss, and a great part of this
edition was condemned to the service of the trunk-maker.” His next
performance was a translation of Goethe’s drama, Goetz of Berlichingen,
published in 1799. But he continued his devotion to ballad poetry, and
as his confidence rose, essayed his strength in Glenfinlas, and the Eve
of St. John, his first original compositions. At Lasswade on the banks
of the Esk, about five miles from Edinburgh, where he spent several
summers after his marriage, he prosecuted with increased zeal and
success his favourite inquiries into the antiquities and legendary song
of his country, and commenced the work which gave him a name in
literature, the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. “The materials for
this work were collected during various excursions, or _raids_, as Sir
Walter was wont to call them, through the most remote recesses of the
border glens, made by the poetical compiler in person, assisted by one
or two other enthusiasts in ballad lore. Pre-eminent among his
coadjutors in this undertaking was Dr. John Leyden, an enthusiastic
borderer and ballad-monger like himself, and to whom he has gratefully
acknowledged his obligations both in verse and prose.”
“Some amusing anecdotes have been printed, and others are still extant
in oral tradition among the border hills, of the circumstances attending
the collection of these ballads. The old women, who were almost the only
remaining depositories of ancient song and tradition, though proud of
being solicited to recite them by ‘so grand a man’ as an Edinburgh
Advocate, could not repress their astonishment that ‘a man o’ sense and
lair’ should spend his time in writing into a book ‘auld ballads and
stories of the bluidy Border wars, and paipish times....’ The Minstrelsy
was printed at Kelso, in 1802, at first in two volumes, to which a third
was added in the second edition. Two years subsequently Scott published
the romance of Sir Tristram, a Scottish metrical tale of the thirteenth
century, which he showed, in a learned disquisition, to have been
composed by Thomas of Ercildown, commonly called the Rhymer.”
“These works, especially the Border Minstrelsy, were favourably received
by the public, and established Scott’s reputation on a very respectable
footing, as an excellent poetical antiquary, and as a writer of
considerable power and promise, both in verse and prose. As yet,
however, he had produced no composition of originality and importance
sufficient to secure that high and permanent rank in literature, to
which his secret ambition led him to aspire. But he had now a subject in
hand which was destined to attain for him a popularity far beyond what
his most sanguine hopes could have ventured to anticipate.”
“The Lay of the Last Minstrel appeared in 1805. The structure of the
verse was suggested, as the author states, by the Christabel of
Coleridge; a part of which had been repeated to him about the year 1800.
The originality, wildness, poetical beauty, and descriptive powers of
Scott’s Border romance produced an effect on the public mind, only to be
equalled perhaps by some of the earlier works of Byron.”
“In the spring of 1806 Sir Walter obtained an appointment, which, he
says, completely met his moderate wishes as to preferment. This was the
office of a principal Clerk of Session, of which the duties are by no
means heavy, though personal attendance during the sitting of the courts
is required. Mr. Pitt, under whose administration the appointment had
been granted, having died before it was officially completed, the
succeeding Whig ministry had the satisfaction of confirming it. The
emoluments of this office were about 1200_l._ a year; but Scott received
no part of the salary till 1812, the appointment being a reversionary
one.”
His reputation and his fortune seemed now to be completely established.
Marmion, published in 1808, and the Lady of the Lake, in 1810, were
received each with greater favour than its predecessor. Don Roderick,
1811, was not successful; Rokeby, 1813, and The Lord of the Isles, 1814,
were generally thought inferior in merit to his earlier works. This
might arise, in part, from the extraordinary rapidity of their
composition: for Rokeby was commenced September 15, and finished
December 31, 1812; and the Lord of the Isles was written in the
following autumn, with equal rapidity, but under circumstances which
rendered the task a burden, and damped the fire of his muse. Still
these, like their predecessors, commanded very large sales, and brought
in large sums to the author, and large profits to the publishers. His
popularity, however, was on the ebb, and it was the general impression
that Scott had nearly written himself out. At the time when this was
said, he had already published one anonymous poem, the Bridal of
Triermain, 1810, as if ashamed of his prolific pen. Afterwards, in 1817,
he published Harold the Dauntless, in the same way. The censure,
however, was not unfounded; and the two last acknowledged poems of Scott
were inferior in interest and execution to his earlier productions.
Another reason for the decrease of Scott’s popularity he has himself
assigned, in the rapid growth of Lord Byron’s.
It was about the end of 1813 that accident threw in his way the mislaid
manuscript of the beginning of Waverley, seven chapters of which he had
composed in 1805, and had thrown aside, in deference to the unfavourable
opinion of a critical friend. At different times he had been inclined to
resume this work, but had been prevented by the loss of the manuscript:
which he now applied himself in earnest to complete. Waverley was
published in the summer of 1814; and obtained success beyond the
author’s fondest expectations. The history of this wonderful series of
works of fiction, and the author’s reasons for adopting and retaining
his incognito, are familiar to the public, through his own account in
the Introduction to the Waverley Novels. The manner in which the secret
was kept is a remarkable anecdote in literary history: for, whatever
conclusions might be drawn from internal evidence by Scott’s intimate
friends, and from putting things together by the public, not a particle
of external evidence was produced to fasten it upon him, until the
failure of Constable’s house in 1826 led to Scott’s public avowal of the
authorship in 1827. Perhaps this mystery tended to keep alive the public
interest: perhaps also Scott had a keener relish of the homage paid to
the Great Unknown, than if it had been offered to him in his own person.
Scott’s metrical romances, as they were composed with unexampled
rapidity, commanded also unexampled prices from the booksellers. And at
the same time he found leisure for a variety of laborious works in
criticism, biography, and miscellaneous literature, which added
considerably both to his funds and his reputation. Among these were new
editions of the works of Dryden and Swift, with biographical accounts;
Sadler’s State Papers; Somers’s Tracts; Lives of the Novelists; besides
numerous contributions to encyclopædias, reviews, and other periodical
publications. His scheme of devoting himself to literature had borne
fruit of fame and profit beyond his brightest anticipations. His certain
income (we presume after the year 1812) is said by Mr. Pringle to have
exceeded 2000_l._: and he was supposed to double that sum by the
exuberant harvest of his brain.
“Amidst all this labour Scott found abundant leisure not only for his
official avocations, but for social enjoyment and rural recreation.
While the Court of Session was sitting, he lived in Edinburgh, in a good
substantial house in North Castle Street. During the vacations he
resided in the country, and appeared to enter with ardour into the
ordinary occupations and amusements of country gentlemen. After he was
appointed Sheriff of Selkirk he hired for his summer residence the house
and farm of Ashiesteil, on the banks of the Tweed; and here many of his
poetical works were written. But with the increase of his resources grew
the desire to possess landed property of his own, where he might indulge
his tastes for building, planting, and gardening. Commencing with
moderation, he purchased a small farm of about one hundred acres, lying
on the south bank of the Tweed, three miles above Melrose, and in the
very centre of that romantic and legendary country which his first great
poem has made familiar to every reader. This spot, then called Cartly
Hole, had a northern exposure, and at that time a somewhat bleak and
uninviting aspect: the only habitable house upon it was a small and
inconvenient farm-house. Such was the nucleus of the mansion and estate
of Abbotsford. By degrees, as his resources increased, he added farm
after farm to his domain, and reared his chateau, turret after turret,
till he completed what a French tourist not inaptly terms ‘a romance of
stone and lime,’ clothing meanwhile the hills behind, and embowering the
lawns before, with flourishing woods of his own planting. The
embellishment of his house and grounds, and the enlargement of his
landed property, became, after the establishment of his literary
reputation, the objects, apparently, of Scott’s most engrossing
interest; and whatever may be the intrinsic value of the estate as a
heritage to his posterity, he has at least succeeded in erecting a scene
altogether of no ordinary attractions, and worthy of being associated
with his distinguished name.”
“During the greater part of the summer and autumn he kept house at
Abbotsford like a wealthy country gentleman, receiving with a cordial,
yet courtly, hospitality, the many distinguished persons, both from
England and the Continent, who found means to obtain an introduction to
his enchanted castle. Anything more delightful than a visit to
Abbotsford, when Sir Walter was in the full enjoyment of his health and
spirits, can scarcely be imagined. After his morning labours, which,
even when busiest, were seldom protracted beyond mid-day, (his time for
composition being usually from seven to eleven or twelve o’clock,) he
devoted himself to the entertainment of his guests with so much
unaffected cordiality, such hilarity of spirits, and such homely
kindliness of manner, and above all with such an entire absence of
literary pretension, that the shyest stranger found himself at once on
terms of the easiest familiarity with the most illustrious man in
Europe.”
In the spring of 1820, Scott was created a baronet by George IV., as a
testimony of personal regard; and on the King’s visit to Scotland in
1822, he was appointed to superintend the arrangements for his Majesty’s
reception; an office gratifying to his national feelings and antiquarian
tastes, as well as to his aristocratical predilections.