had bestowed favors, and was an accomplished and interesting man,—­was Bacon to ignore his official duties?  He may have been too harsh in his procedure; but in that age all criminal proceedings were harsh and inexorable,—­there was but little mercy shown to culprits, especially to traitors.  If Elizabeth could bring herself, out of respect to her wounded honor and slighted kindness and the dignity of the realm and the majesty of the law, to surrender into the hands of justice one whom she so tenderly loved and magnificently rewarded, even when the sacrifice cost her both peace and life, snapped the last cord which bound her to this world,—­may we not forgive Bacon for the part he played?  Does this fidelity to an official and professional duty, even if he were harsh, make him “the meanest of mankind”?

In regard to Peacham, it is true he was tortured, according to the practice of that cruel age; but Bacon had no hand in the issuing of the warrant against him for high-treason, although in accordance with custom he, as prosecuting officer of the Crown, examined Peacham under torture before his trial.  The parson was convicted; but the sentence of death was not executed upon him, and he died in jail.

And in regard to corruption,—­the sin which cast Bacon from his high estate, though fortunately he did not fall like Lucifer, never to rise again,—­may not the verdict of the poet and the historian be rather exaggerated?  Nobody has ever attempted to acquit Bacon for taking bribes.  Nobody has ever excused him.  He did commit a crime; but in palliation it might be said that he never decided against justice, and that it was customary for great public functionaries to accept presents.  Had he taken them after he had rendered judgment instead of before, he might have been acquitted; for out of the seven thousand cases which he decided as Lord-Chancellor, not one of them has been reversed:  so that he said of himself, “I was the justest judge that England has had for fifty years; and I suffered the justest sentence that had been inflicted for two hundred years.”  He did not excuse himself.  His ingenuousness of confession astonished everybody, and moved the hearts of his judges.  It was his misfortune to be in debt; he had pressing creditors; and in two cases he accepted presents before the decision was made, but was brave enough to decide against those who bribed him,—­hinc illae lacrymae.  A modern corrupt official generally covers his tracks; and many a modern judge has been bribed to decide against justice, and has escaped ignominy, even in a country which claims the greatest purity and the loftiest moral standard.  We admit that Bacon was a sinner; but was he a sinner above all others who cast stones at Jerusalem?