part six
-fold. In normal cases profits were divided according to contract, usually equally.
A considerable amount of forwarding was done by the caravans. The carrier gave a receipt for the consignment, took all responsibility and exacted a receipt on delivery. If he defaulted he paid five-fold. He was usually paid in advance. Deposit, especially warehousing of grain, was charged for at one-sixtieth. The warehouseman took all risks, paid double for all shortage, but no claim could be made unless he had given a properly witnessed receipt. Water traffic on the Euphrates and canals was early very considerable. Ships, whose tonnage was estimated at the amount of grain they could carry, were continually hired for the transport of all kinds of goods. The Code fixes the price for building and insists on the builder's giving a year's guarantee of seaworthiness. It fixes the hire of ship and of crew. The captain was responsible for the freight and the ship; he had to replace all loss. Even if he refloated the ship he had to pay a fine of half its value for sinking it. In the case of collision the boat under way was responsible for damages to the boat at anchor. The Code also regulated the liquor traffic, fixing a fair price for beer and forbidding the connivance of the tavern-keeper (a female!) at disorderly conduct or treasonable assembly, under pain of death. She was to hale the offenders to the palace, which implied an efficient and accessible police system.
Payment through a banker or by written draft against deposit was frequent. Bonds to pay were treated as negotiable. Interest was rarely charged on advances by the temple or wealthy landowners for pressing needs, but this may have been part of the metayer system. The borrowers may have been tenants. Interest was charged at very high rates for overdue loans of this kind. Merchants (and even temples in some cases) made ordinary business loans, charging from 20 to 30%.
Marriage retained the form of purchase, but was essentially a contract to be man and wife together. The marriage of young people was usually arranged between the relatives, the bridegroom's father providing the bride-price, which with other presents the suitor ceremonially presented to the bride's father. This bride-price was usually handed over by her father to the bride on her marriage, and so came back into the bridegroom's possession, along with her dowry, which was her portion as a daughter. The bride-price varied much, according to the position of the parties, but was in excess of that paid for a slave. The Code enacted that if the father does not, after accepting a man's presents, give him his daughter, he must return the presents doubled. Even if his decision was brought about by libel on the part of the suitor's friend this was done, and the Code enacted that the faithless friend should not marry the girl. If a suitor changed his mind, he forfeited the presents. The dowry might include real estate, but generally consisted of personal effects and household furniture. It remained the wife's for life, descending to her children, if any; otherwise returning to her family, when the husband could deduct the bride-price if it had not been given to her, or return it, if it had. The marriage ceremony included joining of hands and the utterance of some formula of acceptance on the part of the bridegroom, as "I am the son of nobles, silver and gold shall fill thy lap, thou shall be my wife, I will be thy husband. Like the fruit of a garden I will give thee offspring." It must be performed by a freeman.
The marriage contract, without which the Code ruled that the woman was no wife, usually stated the consequences to which each party was liable for repudiating the other. These by no means necessarily agree with the Code. Many conditions might be inserted: as that the wife should act as maidservant to her mother-in-law, or to a first wife. The married couple formed a unit as to external responsibility, especially for debt. The man was responsible for debts contracted by his wife, even before her marriage, as well as for his own; but he could use her as a mancipium. Hence the Code allowed a proviso to be inserted in the marriage contract, that the wife should not be seized for her husband's pre-nuptial debts; but enacted that then he was not responsible for her pre-nuptial debts, and, in any case, that both together were responsible for all debts contracted after marriage. A man might make his wife a settlement by deed of gift, which gave her a life interest in part of his property, and he might reserve to her the right to bequeath it to a favourite child, but she could in no case leave it to her family. Although married she always remained a member of her father's house--she is rarely named wife of A, usually daughter of B, or mother of C.
Divorce was optional with the man, but he had to restore the dowry and, if the wife had borne him children, she had the [v.03 p.0119] custody of them. He had then to assign her the income of field, or garden, as well as goods, to maintain herself and children until they grew up. She then shared equally with them in the allowance (and apparently in his estate at his death) and was free to marry again. If she had no children, he returned her the dowry and paid her a sum equivalent to the bride-price, or a mina of silver, if there had been none. The latter is the forfeit usually named in the contract for his repudiation of her.
If she had been a bad wife, the Code allowed him to send her away, while he kept the children and her dowry; or he could degrade her to the position of a slave in his own house, where she would have food and clothing. She might bring an action against him for cruelty and neglect and, if she proved her case, obtain a judicial separation, taking with her her dowry. No other punishment fell on the man. If she did not prove her case, but was proved to be a bad wife, she was drowned. If she were left without maintenance during her husband's involuntary absence, she could cohabit with another man, but must return to her husband if he came back, the children of the second union remaining with their own father. If she had maintenance, a breach of the marriage tie was adultery. Wilful desertion by, or exile of, the husband dissolved the marriage, and if he came back he had no claim on her property; possibly not on his own.
As a widow, the wife took her husband's place in the family, living on in his house and bringing up the children. She could only remarry with judicial consent, when the judge was bound to inventory the deceased's estate and hand it over to her and her new husband in trust for the children. They could not alienate a single utensil. If she did not remarry, she lived on in her husband's house and took a child's share on the division of his estate, when the children had grown up. She still retained her dowry and any settlement deeded to her by her husband. This property came to her children. If she had remarried, all her children shared equally in her dowry, but the first husband's gift fell to his children or to her selection among them, if so empowered.
Monogamy was the rule, and a childless wife might give her husband a maid (who was no wife) to bear him children, who were reckoned hers. She remained mistress of her maid and might degrade her to slavery again for insolence, but could not sell her if she had borne her husband children. If the wife did this, the Code did not allow the husband to take a concubine. If she would not, he could do so. The concubine was a wife, though not of the same rank; the first wife had no power over her. A concubine was a free woman, was often dowered for marriage and her children were legitimate. She could only be divorced on the same conditions as a wife. If a wife became a chronic invalid, the husband was bound to maintain her in the home they had made together, unless she preferred to take her dowry and go back to her father's house; but he was free to remarry. In all these cases the children were legitimate and legal heirs.
There was, of course, no hindrance to a man having children by a slave girl. These children were free, in any case, and their mother could not be sold, though she might be pledged, and she was free on her master's death. These children could be legitimized by their father's acknowledgment before witnesses, and were often adopted. They then ranked equally in sharing their father's estate, but if not adopted, the wife's children divided and took first choice.
Vestal virgins were not supposed to have children, yet they could and often did marry. The Code contemplated that such a wife would give a husband a maid as above. Free women might marry slaves and be dowered for the marriage. The children were free, and at the slave's death the wife took her dowry and half what she and her husband had acquired in wedlock for self and children; the master taking the other half as his slave's heir.
A father had control over his children till their marriage. He had a right to their labour in return for their keep. He might hire them out and receive their wages, pledge them for debt, even sell them outright. Mothers had the same rights in the absence of the father; even elder brothers when both parents were dead. A father had no claim on his married children for support, but they retained a right to inherit on his death.
The daughter was not only in her father's power to be given in marriage, but he might dedicate her to the service of some god as a vestal or a hierodule; or give her as a concubine. She had no choice in these matters, which were often decided in her childhood. A grown-up daughter might wish to become a votary, perhaps in preference to an uncongenial marriage, and it seems that her father could not refuse her wish. In all these cases the father might dower her. If he did not, on his death the brothers were bound to do so, giving her a full child's share if a wife, a concubine or a vestal, but one-third of a child's share if she were a hierodule or a Marduk priestess. The latter had the privilege of exemption from state dues and absolute disposal of her property. All other daughters had only a life interest in their dowry, which reverted to their family, if childless, or went to their children if they had any. A father might, however, execute a deed granting a daughter power to leave her property to a favourite brother or sister. A daughter's estate was usually managed for her by her brothers, but if they did not satisfy her, she could appoint a steward. If she married, her husband managed it.
The son also appears to have received his share on marriage, but did not always then leave his father's house; he might bring his wife there. This was usual in child marriages.
Adoption was very common, especially where the father (or mother) was childless or had seen all his children grow up and marry away. The child was then adopted to care for the parents' old age. This was done by contract, which usually specified what the parent had to leave and what maintenance was expected. The real children, if any, were usually consenting parties to an arrangement which cut off their expectations. They even, in some cases, found the estate for the adopted child who was to relieve them of a care. If the adopted child failed to carry out the filial duty the contract was annulled in the law courts. Slaves were often adopted and if they proved unfilial were reduced to slavery again.
A craftsman often adopted a son to learn the craft. He profited by the son's labour. If he failed to teach his son the craft, that son could prosecute him and get the contract annulled. This was a form of apprenticeship, and it is not clear that the apprentice had any filial relation.
A man who adopted a son, and afterwards married and had a family of his own, could dissolve the contract but must give the adopted child one-third of a child's share in goods, but no real estate. That could only descend in the family to which he had ceased to belong. Vestals frequently adopted daughters, usually other vestals, to care for their old age.
Adoption had to be with consent of the real parents, who usually executed a deed making over the child, who thus ceased to have any claim upon them. But vestals, hierodules, certain palace officials and slaves had no rights over their children and could raise no obstacle. Foundlings and illegitimate children had no parents to object. If the adopted child discovered his true parents and wanted to return to them, his eye or tongue was torn out. An adopted child was a full heir, the contract might even assign him the position of eldest son. Usually he was residuary legatee.
All legitimate children shared equally in the father's estate at his death, reservation being made of a bride-price for an unmarried son, dower for a daughter or property deeded to favourite children by the father. There was no birthright attaching to the position of eldest son, but he usually acted as executor and after considering what each had already received equalized the shares. He even made grants in excess to the others from his own share. When there were two mothers, the two families shared equally in the father's estate until later times when the first family took two-thirds. Daughters, in the absence of sons, had sons' rights. Children also shared their own mother's property, but had no share in that of a stepmother.
A father could disinherit a son in early times without restriction, but the Code insisted upon judicial consent and that only for repeated unfilial conduct. In early times the son who denied his father had his front hair shorn, a slave-mark put on him, and [v.03 p.0120] could be sold as a slave; while if he denied his mother he had his front hair shorn, was driven round the city as an example and expelled his home, but not degraded to slavery.
Adultery was punished with the death of both parties by drowning, but if the husband was willing to pardon his wife, the king might intervene to pardon the paramour. For incest with his own mother, both were burned to death; with a stepmother, the man was disinherited; with a daughter, the man was exiled; with a daughter-in-law, he was drowned; with a son's betrothed, he was fined. A wife who for her lover's sake procured her husband's death was gibbeted. A betrothed girl, seduced by her prospective father-in-law, took her dowry and returned to her family, and was free to marry as she chose.
In the criminal law the ruling principle was the _lex talionis_. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, limb for limb was the penalty for assault upon an _amelu_. A sort of symbolic retaliation was the punishment of the offending member, seen in the cutting off the hand that struck a father or stole a trust; in cutting off the breast of a wet-nurse who substituted a changeling for the child entrusted to her; in the loss of the tongue that denied father or mother (in the Elamite contracts the same penalty was inflicted for perjury); in the loss of the eye that pried into forbidden secrets. The loss of the surgeon's hand that caused loss of life or limb; or the brander's hand that obliterated a slave's identification mark, are very similar. The slave, who struck a freeman or denied his master, lost an ear, the organ of hearing and symbol of obedience. To bring another into danger of death by false accusation was punished by death. To cause loss of liberty or property by false witness was punished by the penalty the perjurer sought to bring upon another.
The death penalty was freely awarded for theft and other crimes regarded as coming under that head; for theft involving entrance of palace or temple treasury, for illegal purchase from minor or slave, for selling stolen goods or receiving the same, for common theft in the open (in default of multiple restoration) or receiving the same, for false claim to goods, for kidnapping, for assisting or harbouring fugitive slaves, for detaining or appropriating same, for brigandage, for fraudulent sale of drink, for disorderly conduct of tavern, for delegation of personal service, for misappropriating the levy, for oppression of feudal holders, for causing death of a householder by bad building. The manner of death is not specified in these cases. This death penalty was also fixed for such conduct as placed another in danger of death. A specified form of death penalty occurs in the following cases: gibbeting (on the spot where crime was committed) for burglary, later also for encroaching on the king's highway, for getting a slave-brand obliterated, for procuring husband's death; burning for incest with own mother, for vestal entering or opening tavern, for theft at fire (on the spot); drowning for adultery, rape of betrothed maiden, bigamy, bad conduct as wife, seduction of daughter-in-law.
A curious extension of the _talio_ is the death of creditor's son for his father's having caused the death of debtor's son as mancipium; of builder's son for his father's causing the death of house-owner's son by building the house badly; the death of a man's daughter because her father caused the death of another man's daughter.
The contracts naturally do not concern such criminal cases as the above, as a rule, but marriage contracts do specify death by strangling, drowning, precipitation from a tower or pinnacle of the temple or by the iron sword for a wife's repudiation of her husband. We are quite without evidence as to the executive in all these cases.
Exile was inflicted for incest with a daughter; disinheritance for incest with a stepmother or for repeated unfilial conduct. Sixty strokes of an ox-hide scourge were awarded for a brutal assault on a superior, both being _amelu_. Branding (perhaps the equivalent of degradation to slavery) was the penalty for slander of a married woman or vestal. Deprivation of office in perpetuity fell upon the corrupt judge. Enslavement befell the extravagant wife and unfilial children. Imprisonment was common, but is not recognized by the Code.
The commonest of all penalties was a fine. This is awarded by the Code for corporal injuries to a _muskinu_ or slave (paid to his master); for damages done to property, for breach of contract. The restoration of goods appropriated, illegally bought, or damaged by neglect, was usually accompanied by a fine, giving it the form of multiple restoration. This might be double, treble, fourfold, fivefold, sixfold, tenfold, twelvefold, even thirtyfold, according to the enormity of the offence.
The Code recognized the importance of intention. A man who killed another in a quarrel must swear he did not do so intentionally, and was then only fined according to the rank of the deceased. The Code does not say what would be the penalty of murder, but death is so often awarded where death is caused that we can hardly doubt that the murderer was put to death. If the assault only led to injury and was unintentional, the assailant in a quarrel had to pay the doctor's fees. A brander, induced to remove a slave's identification mark, could swear to his ignorance and was free. The owner of an ox which gored a man on the street was only responsible for damages if the ox was known by him to be vicious, even if it caused death. If the mancipium died a natural death under the creditor's hand, the creditor was scot free. In ordinary cases responsibility was not demanded for accident or for more than proper care. Poverty excused bigamy on the part of a deserted wife.
On the other hand carelessness and neglect were severely punished, as in the case of the unskilful physician, if it led to loss of life or limb his hands were cut off, a slave had to be replaced, the loss of his eye paid for to half his value; a veterinary surgeon who caused the death of an ox or ass paid quarter value; a builder, whose careless workmanship caused death, lost his life or paid for it by the death of his child, replaced slave or goods, and in any case had to rebuild the house or make good any damages due to defective building and repair the defect as well. The boat-builder had to make good any defect of construction or damage due to it for a year's warranty.
Throughout the Code respect is paid to status.
Suspicion was not enough. The criminal must be taken in the act, _e.g._ the adulterer, ravisher, &c. A man could not be convicted of theft unless the goods were found in his possession.
In the case of a lawsuit the plaintiff preferred his own plea. There is no trace of professional advocates, but the plea had to be in writing and the notary doubtless assisted in the drafting of it. The judge saw the plea, called the other parties before him and sent for the witnesses. If these were not at hand he might adjourn the case for their production, specifying a time up to six months. Guarantees might be entered into to produce the witnesses on a fixed day. The more important cases, especially those involving life and death, were tried by a bench of judges. With the judges were associated a body of elders, who shared in the decision, but whose exact function is not yet clear. Agreements, declarations and non-contentious cases are usually witnessed by one judge and twelve elders.
## Parties and witnesses were put on oath. The penalty for false witness was
usually that which would have been awarded the convicted criminal. In matters beyond the knowledge of men, as the guilt or innocence of an alleged wizard or a suspected wife, the ordeal by water was used. The accused jumped into the sacred river, and the innocent swam while the guilty drowned. The accused could clear himself by oath where his own knowledge was alone available. The plaintiff could swear to his loss by brigands, as to goods claimed, the price paid for a slave purchased abroad or the sum due to him. But great stress was laid on the production of written evidence. It was a serious thing to lose a document. The judges might be satisfied of its existence and terms by the evidence of the witnesses to it, and then issue an order that whenever found it should be given up. Contracts annulled were ordered to be broken. The court might go a journey to view the property and even take with them the sacred symbols on which oath was made.
The decision given was embodied in writing, sealed and witnessed by the judges, the elders, witnesses and a scribe. Women might act in all these capacities. The parties swore an [v.03 p.0121] oath, embodied in the document, to observe its stipulations. Each took a copy and one was held by the scribe to be stored in the archives.
Appeal to the king was allowed and is well attested. The judges at Babylon seem to have formed a superior court to those of provincial towns, but a defendant might elect to answer the charge before the local court and refuse to plead at Babylon.
Finally, it may be noted that many immoral acts, such as the use of false weights, lying, &c., which could not be brought into court, are severely denounced in the Omen Tablets as likely to bring the offender into "the hand of God" as opposed to "the hand of the king."
BIBLIOGRAPHY.--Contracts in general: Oppert and Menant, _Documents juridiques de l'Assyrie et de la Chaldée_ (Paris, 1877); J. Kohler and F. E. Peiser, _Aus dem babylonischen Rechtsleben_ (Leipzig, 1890 ff.); F. E. Peiser, _Babylonische Vertrage_ (Berlin, 1890), _Keilinschriftliche Actenstücke_ (Berlin, 1889); Br. Meissner, _Beiträge zur altbabylonischen Privatrecht_ (Leipzig, 1893); F. E. Peiser, "Texte juristischen und geschäftlichen Inhalts," vol. iv. of Schrader's _Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek_ (Berlin, 1896); C. H. W. Johns, _Assyrian Deeds and Documents relating to the Transfer of Property_ (3 vols., Cambridge, 1898); H. Radau, _Early Babylonian History_ (New York, 1900); C. H. W. Johns, _Babylonian and Assyrian Laws, Contracts and Letters_ (Edinburgh, 1904). For editions of texts and the innumerable articles in scientific journals see the bibliographies and references in the above works. "The Code of Hammurabi," _Editio princeps_, by V. Scheil in tome iv. of the _Textes Elamites-Semitiques_ of the _Mémoires de la délégation en Perse_ (Paris, 1902); H. Winckler, "Die Gesetze Hammurabis Königs von Babylon um 2250 v. Chr." _Der alte Orient_, iv. Jahrgang, Heft 4; D. H. Müller, _Die Gesetze Hammurabis_ (Vienna, 1903); J. Kohler and F. E. Peiser, _Hammurabis Gesetz_ (Leipzig, 1904); R. F. Harper, _The Code of Hammurabi, King of Babylon about 2250 B.C._ (Chicago, 1904); S. A. Cook, _The Laws of Moses and the Code of Hammurabi_ (London, 1903).
(C. H. W. J.)
[1] For the transliteration of Babylonian and Assyrian names generally, see BABYLONIA AND ASSYRIA, section ix., _Proper Names_.
BACAU, the capital of the department of Bacau, Rumania; situated among the foothills of the Carpathian Mountains, and on the river Bistritza, which enters the river Sereth 5 m. S. Pop. (1900) 16,187, including 7850 Jews. Although of modern growth, Bacau is one of the chief commercial centres in Moldavia, possessing many large timber yards. It is on the main railway from Czernovitz, in Bukovina, to Galatz; and on two branch lines, one of which enters Transylvania through the Ghimesh Pass, while both give access to the salt mines, petroleum wells and forests of the Carpathians.
BACCARAT, a gambling card-game (origin of name unknown), supposed to have been introduced into France from Italy during the reign of Charles VIII. There are two accepted varieties of the game--_baccarat chemin de fer_ (railway) and _baccarat banque_ (or _à deux tableaux_). In _baccarat chemin de fer_ six full packs of cards are used. These are shuffled by a croupier and then by any of the players who wish to do so. From three to eleven persons may play. Counters are generally used and are sold by the banker who afterwards redeems them. The croupier takes a number of cards from the top of the pack and passes them to the player on his right (sometimes left) who becomes banker, a position which he holds until he loses, when the deal passes to the player next in order. The other players are called _punters_. The banker places before him the sum he wishes to stake and the punters do likewise, unless a punter desires to _go bank_, signifying his intention by saying, _Banco!_ In this case he plays against the entire stake of the banker. After the stakes have been made the dealer deals a card to his right for the punters, then one to himself, then a third to his left for the punters and, finally, another to himself, all face downwards. Court cards and tens count nothing; all others the number of their pips. Each punter looks at his cards, and any one having 8 or 9 turns his card up and announces it, the hand then being at an end. The player having the highest stake plays for both punters, and if the card turned is better than that of the banker, the latter pays each punter the amount of his stake. If not, the banker wins all stakes and the game proceeds as before. If no announcement is made, meaning that neither player holds 8 or 9, the banker deals another card to the player on his right, who, if his first card is 6 or 7, will refuse it, fearing to overrun. The second card is turned face upwards on the table. If his card is 5 he may, or may not, accept the second card, according to his judgment. In case of his refusal the card is offered to the second punter. If the first card is _baccarat_ (_i.e._ amounts to 0) or 1, 2, 3 or 4, a punter always accepts the second card. The banker then decides whether he will draw another card himself or expose his original ones, and when he has made his play pays or receives according as he wins or loses. Ties neither win nor lose but go over to the next deal. A player who has lost on _going bank_ may go bank again, but no player may go bank more than twice in succession. In the variation _baccarat banque_ (or _à deux tableaux_), three packs of cards are used and the banker is permanent; the player who offers to risk the largest amount occupying the position. A line is drawn across the table and any one wishing to do so may place his stake _à cheval_, _i.e._ on the line. Stakes so placed neither win nor lose if one side wins and the other loses, but win if both sides win and are lost if both sides lose. The laws of baccarat are complicated and no one code is accepted as authoritative, the different clubs making their own rules.
See Badoureau, _Étude mathématique sur le jeu de baccarat_ (Paris, 1881); L. Billard, _Bréviaire du baccara expérimental_ (Paris, 1883).
BACCHANALIA, the Lat. name for the wild and mystic festivals of Bacchus (Dionysus). They were introduced into Rome from lower Italy by way of Etruria, and held in secret, attended by women only, on three days in the year in the grove of Simila (_Stimula_, _Semele_; Ovid, _Fasti_, vi. 503), near the Aventine hill. Subsequently, admission to the rites were extended to men and celebrations took place five times a month. The evil reputation of these festivals, at which the grossest debaucheries took place, and all kinds of crimes and political conspiracies were supposed to be planned, led in 186 B.C. to a decree of the senate--the so-called _Senatus consultum de Bacchanalibus_, inscribed on a bronze tablet discovered in Calabria (1640), now at Vienna--by which the Bacchanalia were prohibited throughout the whole of Italy, except in certain special cases, in which the senate reserved the right of allowing them, subject to certain restrictions. But, in spite of the severe punishment inflicted upon those who were found to be implicated in the criminal practices disclosed by state investigation, the Bacchanalia were not stamped out, at any rate in the south of Italy, for a very long time (Livy xxxix. 8-19, 41; xl. 19).
BACCHYLIDES, Greek lyric poet, was born at Iulis, in the island of Ceos. His father's name was probably Meidon; his mother was a sister of Simonides, himself a native of Iulis. Eusebius says that Bacchylides "flourished" ([Greek: êkmazen]) in Ol. 78. 2 (467 B.C.). As the term [Greek: êkmazen] refers to the physical prime, and was commonly placed at about the fortieth year, we may suppose that Bacchylides was born _circa_ 507 B.C. Among his Odes the earliest that can be approximately dated is xii.,[1] which may belong to 481 or 479 B.C.; the latest is vi., of which the date is fixed by the recently found fragment of the Olympic register to Ol. 82. 1 (452 B.C.). He would thus have been some forty-nine years younger than his uncle Simonides, and some fifteen years younger than Pindar. Elsewhere Eusebius states that Bacchylides "was of repute" ([Greek: egnôrizeto]) in Ol. 87. 2 (431 B.C.); and Georgius Syncellus, using the same word, gives Ol. 88 (428-425 B.C.). The phrase would mean that he was then in the fulness of years and of fame. There is nothing improbable in the supposition that he survived the beginning of the Peloponnesian war.
Bacchylides, like Simonides and Pindar, visited the court of Hiero I. of Syracuse (478-467). In his fifth Ode (476 B.C.), the word [Greek: xenos] (v. 11) has been taken to mean that he had already been the guest of the prince; and, as Simonides went to Sicily in or about 477 B.C., that is not unlikely. Ode iii. (468 B.C.) was possibly written at Syracuse, as verses 15 and 16 suggest. He there pays a high compliment to Hiero's taste in poetry (ver. 3 ff.). A scholium on _Pyth._ ii. 90 (166) avers that Hiero preferred the Odes of Bacchylides to those of Pindar. The Alexandrian scholars interpreted a number of passages in Pindar as hostile allusions to Bacchylides or Simonides. If the scholiasts [v.03 p.0122] are right, it would appear that Pindar regarded the younger of the two Cean poets as a jealous rival, who disparaged him to their common patron (schol. _Pyth._ ii. 52 f.), and as one whose poetical skill was due to study rather than to genius (_Ol._ ii. 91-110). In _Olymp._ ii. 96 the dual [Greek: garueton], if it does not refer to the uncle and nephew, remains mysterious; nor does it admit of probable emendation.[2] One would gladly reject this tradition, to which the scholia so frequently refer; yet it would be rash to assume that it rested merely on surmise. The Alexandrians may have possessed evidence on the subject which is now lost. It is tolerably certain that the three poets were visitors at Hiero's court at about the same time: Pindar and Bacchylides wrote odes of the same kind in his honour; and there was a tradition that he preferred the younger poet. There is thus no intrinsic improbability in the hypothesis that Pindar's haughty spirit had suffered, or imagined, some mortification. It is noteworthy that, whereas in 476 and 470 both he and Bacchylides celebrated Hiero's victories, in 468 (the most important occasion of all) Bacchylides alone was commissioned to do so; although in that year Pindar composed an ode (_Olymp._ vi.) for another Syracusan victor at the same festival. Nor is it difficult to conceive that a despot such as Hiero, whose constitutional position was ill-defined, and who was perhaps all the more exigent of deference on that account, may have found the genial Ionian a more agreeable courtier than Pindar, an aristocrat of the Boeoto-Aeolic type, not unmindful of "his fathers the Aegidae," and rather prone to link the praises of his patron with a lofty intimation of his own claims (see, _e.g._, _Olymp._ i. _ad fin._). But, whatever may have been the true bearing of Pindar's occasional innuendoes, it is at any rate pleasant to find that in the extant work of Bacchylides there is not the faintest semblance of hostile allusion to any rival. Nay, one might almost imagine a compliment to Pindar, when, in mentioning Hesiod, he calls him [Greek: Boiôtos anêr].
Plutarch (_de Exilio_, p. 605 c) names Bacchylides in a list of writers, who after they had been banished from their native cities, were active and successful in literature. It was Peloponnesus that afforded a new home to the exiled poet. The passage gives no clue to date or circumstance; but it implies that Peloponnesus was the region where the poet's genius ripened and where he did the work which established his fame. This points to a residence of considerable length; and it may be noted that some of the poems illustrate their author's intimate knowledge of Peloponnesus. Thus in Ode viii., for Automedes of Phlius, he draws on the legends connected with the Phliasian river Asopus. In Ode x., starting from the Argive legend of Proetus and Acrisius, he tells how the Arcadian cult of Artemis [Greek: Hêmera] was founded. In one of his dithyrambs (xix.) he treated the legend of Idas (a Messenian hero) and Marpessa in the form of a _hymenaeus_ sung by maidens of Sparta.
The Alexandrian scholars, who drew up select lists of the best writers in each kind, included Bacchylides in their "canon" of the nine lyric poets, along with Alcman, Sappho, Alcaeus, Stesichorus, Ibycus, Anacreon, Simonides and Pindar. The Alexandrian grammarian Didymus (_circ._ 30 B.C.) wrote a commentary on the epinikian odes of Bacchylides. Horace, a poet in some respects of kindred genius, was a student of his works, and imitated him (according to Porphyrion) in _Odes_, i. 15, where Nereus predicts the destruction of Troy. Quotations from Bacchylides, or references to him, occur in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Strabo, Plutarch, Stobaeus, Athenaeus, Aulus Gellius, Zenobius, Hephaestion, Clement of Alexandria, and various grammarians or scholiasts. Ammianus Marcellinus (xxv. 4) says that the emperor Julian enjoyed reading Bacchylides. It is clear, then, that this poet continued to be popular during at least the first four centuries of our era. No inference adverse to his repute can fairly be drawn from the fact that no mention of him occurs in the extant work of any Attic writer. The only definite estimate of him by an ancient critic occurs in the treatise [Greek: Peri Hupsous] commonly translated "On the Sublime," but meaning rather, "On the Sources of Elevation in Style"; a work ambiguously ascribed to Cassius Longinus (_circ._ A.D. 260), but more probably due to some writer of the first century of our era. In chapter xxxiii. of that treatise, the author asks whether we ought to prefer "greatness" in literature, with some attendant faults, to flawless merit on a lower level, and of course replies in the affirmative. In tragedy, he asks, who would be Ion of Chios rather than Sophocles; or in lyric poetry, Bacchylides rather than Pindar? Yet Bacchylides and Ion are "faultless, with a style of perfect elegance and finish." In short, the essayist regards Bacchylides as a thoroughly finished poet of the second class, who never commits glaring faults, but never reaches the loftier heights.
The first and most general quality of style in Bacchylides is his perfect simplicity and clearness. Where the text is not corrupt, there are few sentences which are not lucid in meaning and simple in structure. This lucidity is partly due, no doubt, to the fact that he seldom attempts imagery of the bolder kind, and never has thoughts of a subtle or complex order. Yet it would be very unjust to regard such clearness as merely a compensatory merit of lyric mediocrity, or to ignore its intimate connexion with the man's native grace of mind, with the artist's feeling for expression, with the poet's delicate skill. How many readers, who could enjoy and appreciate Pindar if he were less difficult, are stopped on the threshold by the aspect of his style, and are fain to save their self-esteem by concluding that he is at once turgid and shallow! A pellucid style must always have been a source of wide, though modest, popularity for Bacchylides. If it be true that Hiero preferred him to Pindar, and that he was a favourite with Julian, those instances suggest the charm which he must always have had for cultivated readers to whom affairs did not leave much leisure for study, and who rejoiced in a poet with whom they could live on such easy terms.
Another prominent trait in the style of Bacchylides is his love of picturesque detail. This characteristic marks the fragment by which, before the discovery of the 1896 MS., he was best known--a passage, from one of his paeans, on the blessings of peace (fr. 13, Bergk, 3, Jebb); and it frequently appears in the Odes, especially in the mythical narratives. Greater poets can make an image flash upon the mind, as Pindar sometimes does, by a magic phrase, or by throwing one or two salient points into strong relief. The method of Bacchylides is usually quieter; he paints cabinet pictures. Observation and elegance do more for him than grasp or piercing insight; but his work is often of very high excellence in its own kind. His treatment of simile is only a special phase of this general tendency. It is exemplified by the touches with which he elaborates the simile of the eagle in Ode v., and that of the storm-tossed mariners in Ode xii. This full development of simile is Homeric in manner, but not Homeric in motive: Homer's aim is vividness; Bacchylides is rather intent on the decorative value of the details themselves. There are occasional flashes of brilliancy in his imagery, when it is lit up by his keen sense of beauty or splendour in external nature. A radiance, "as of fire," streams from the forms of the Nereids (xvi. 103 ff.). An athlete shines out among his fellows like "the bright moon of the mid-month night" among the stars (viii. 27 ff.). The sudden gleam of hope which comes to the Trojans by the withdrawal of Achilles is like a ray of sunshine "from beneath the edge of a storm-cloud" (xii. 105 ff.). The shades of the departed, as seen by Heracles on the banks of the Cocytus, are compared to the countless leaves fluttering in the wind on "the gleaming headlands of Ida" (v. 65 ff.)--an image not unworthy of Dante or of Milton.
Among the minor features of this poet's style the most remarkable is his use of epithets. A god or goddess nearly always receives some ornamental epithet; sometimes, indeed, two or even three (_e.g._ [Greek: kalukostephanou semnas ... Artemidos leukôlenou], v. 98 f.). Such a trait is in unison with the epic manner, the straightforward narrative, which we find in some of the larger poems (as in v., x., and xvi.). On the other hand, the copious use of such ornament has the disadvantage that it sometimes gives a tinge of conventionality to his work. This impression is somewhat strengthened by the fact that many [v.03 p.0123] of the epithets are long compound words, not found elsewhere and (in some cases at least) probably invented by the poet; words which suggest a deliberate effort to vary the stock repertory.
The poems contained in the MS. of Bacchylides found (see below) in 1896 are of two classes: I. _Odes of Victory_; II. _Dithyrambs_. The Ode of Victory, [Greek: epinikion (melos] or [Greek: epinikos (humnos], is a form derived from the [Greek: humnos], which was properly a song in praise of a deity. Stesichorus (c. 610 B.C.) seems to have been the first who composed hymns in honour, not of gods, but of heroes; the next step was to write hymns in celebration of victories by living men. This custom arose in the second half of the 6th century B.C., the age in which the games at the four great Greek festivals reached the fulness of their popularity. Simonides (b. c. 556 B.C.) was the earliest recorded writer of _epinikia_. His odes of this class are now represented only by a few very small fragments, some twenty lines in all. Two of these fragments, belonging to the description of a chariot-race, warrant the belief that Simonides, in his epinikia, differed from Pindar in dwelling more on the incidents of the particular victory. The same characteristic is found in the epinikia of Bacchylides. His fifth ode, and Pindar's first _Olympian_, alike celebrate the victory of the horse Pherenicus; but, while Pindar's reference to the race itself is slight and general (vv. 20-22), Bacchylides describes the running of the winner much more vividly and fully (vv. 37-49).
The MS. contains fourteen epinikia, or thirteen if Blass be right in supposing that Odes vi. and vii., as numbered by Kenyon in the _editio princeps_, are parts of a single ode (for Lachon of Ceos). Four (or on the view just stated, three) of the odes relate to the Olympian festival; two to the Pythian; three to the Isthmian; three to the Nemean; and one to a Thessalian festival called the [Greek: Petraia]. This comes last. The order in which the MS. arranges the other epinikia seems to be casual; at least it does not follow (1) the alphabetical sequence of the victors' names, or of the names of their cities; nor (2) chronological sequence; nor (3) classification by contests; nor (4) classification by festivals--except that the four great festivals precede the _Petraea_. The first ode, celebrating a victory of the Cean Argeios at the Isthmus, may possibly have been placed there for a biographical reason, viz., because the poet treated in it the early legends of his native island.
A mythical narrative, connected in some way with the victor or his city, usually occupies the central part of the Pindaric ode. It serves to lift the poem into an ideal region, and to invest it with more than a local or temporary significance. The method of Bacchylides in this department of the epinikion is best illustrated by the myth of Croesus in Ode iii., that of Heracles and Meleager in Ode v., and that of the Proetides in Ode x. Pindar's habit is to select certain moments or scenes of a legend, which he depicts with great force and vividness. Bacchylides, on the other hand, has a gentle flow of simple epic narrative; he relies on the interest of the story as a whole, rather than on his power of presenting situations. Another element, always present in the longer odes of victory, is that which may be called the "gnomic." Here, again, there is a contrast between the two poets. Pindar packs his [Greek: gnômai], his maxims or moral sentiments, into terse and sometimes obscure epigrams; he utters them in a didactic tone, as of one who can speak with the commanding voice of Delphic wisdom. The moralizing of Bacchylides is rather an utterance of quiet meditation, sometimes recalling the strain of Ionian gnomic elegy.
The epinikia of Bacchylides are followed in the MS. by six compositions which the Alexandrians classed under the general name of [Greek: dithuramboi], and which we, too, must be content to describe collectively as _Dithyrambs_. The derivation of [Greek: di-thurambos] is uncertain: [Greek: di] may be the root seen in [Greek: dios] (cp. [Greek: dipolia], and [Greek: thurambos] another form of [Greek: thriambos], a word by which Cratinus (c. 448 B.C.) denotes some kind of hymn to the wine-god. The "dithyramb," first mentioned by Archilochus (c. 670 B.C.), received a finished and choral form from Arion of Lesbos (c. 600 B.C.). His dithyrambs, produced at Corinth, belonged to the cult of Dionysus, and the members of his chorus ([Greek: tragikos choros]) personated satyrs. Originally concerned with the birth of the god, the dithyramb came to deal with all his fortunes: then its scope became still larger; it might celebrate, not Dionysus alone, but any god or hero. This last development had taken place before the close of the 6th century B.C. Simonides wrote a dithyramb on Memnon and Tithonus; Pindar, on Orion and on Heracles. Hence the Alexandrian scholars used [Greek: dithurambos] in a wide sense, as denoting simply a lyric poem occupied with a mythical narrative. Thus Ode xvii. of Bacchylides (relating the voyage of Theseus to Crete), though it was clearly a [Greek: paian] for the Delian Apollo, was classed by the Alexandrians among his "dithyrambs"--as appears not only from its place in our MS., but also from the allusion of Servius (on _Aen_. vi. 21). The six dithyrambs of Bacchylides are arranged in (approximately) alphabetical order: [Greek: Antênoridai, Hêraklês, Êitheoi ê Thêseus, Thêseus, Iô, Idas]. The principal feature, best exemplified by the first and third, is necessarily epic narrative,--often adorned with touches of picturesque detail, and animated by short speeches in the epic manner.
Several other classes of composition are represented by those fragments of Bacchylides, preserved in ancient literature, which were known before the discovery of the new MS. (1) [Greek: humnoi]. Among these we hear of the [Greek: apopemptikoi], hymns of pious farewell, speeding some god on his way at the season when he passed from one haunt to another. (2) [Greek: paianes], represented by the well-known fragment on the blessings of peace. (3) [Greek: prosodia], choral odes sung during processions to temples. (4) [Greek: huporchêmata], lively dance-songs for religious festivals. (5) [Greek: erôtika], represented by five fragments of a class akin to [Greek: skolia], drinking-songs. Under this head come some lively and humorous verses on the power of wine, imitated by Horace (_Odes_, iii. 21. 13-20). It may be conjectured that the facile grace and bright fancy of Bacchylides were seen to especial advantage in light compositions of this kind. (6) The elegiacs of Bacchylides are represented by two [Greek: epigrammata anathêmatika], each of four lines, in the Palatine Anthology. The first (_Anth_. vi. 313) is an inscription for an offering commemorative of a victory gained by a chorus with a poem written by Bacchylides. The second (_Anth_. vi. 53) is an inscription for a shrine dedicated to Zephyrus. Its authenticity has been questioned, but not disproved.
The papyrus containing the odes of Bacchylides was found in Egypt by natives, and reached the British Museum in the autumn of 1896. It was then in about 200 pieces. By the skill and industry of Mr F. G. Kenyon, the editor of the _editio princeps_ (1897), the MS. was reconstructed from these lacerated members. As now arranged, the MS. consists of three sections, (1) The first section contains 22 columns of writing. It breaks off after the 8 opening verses of Ode xii. (2) The second section contains columns 23-29. Of these, column 23 is represented only by the last letters of two words. This section comprises what remains of Odes xiii. and xiv. It breaks off before the end of xiv., which is the last of the epinikia. (3) The third section comprises columns 30-39. It begins with the mutilated opening verses of Ode xv. ([Greek: Antênoridai], the first of the dithyrambs), and breaks off after verse 11 of the last dithyramb,[Greek: Idas]. The number of lines in a column varies from 32 to 36, the usual number being 35, or (though less often) 34.
It is impossible to say how much has been lost between the end of column 29 and the beginning of column 30. Probably, however, Ode xiv., if not the last, was nearly the last of the epinikia. It concerns a festival of a merely local character, the Thessalian [Greek: Petraia], and was therefore placed after the thirteen other epinikia, which are connected with the four great festivals. The same lacuna leaves it doubtful whether any collective title was prefixed to the [Greek: dithuramboi]. After the last column (39) of the MS., a good deal has probably been lost. Bacchylides seems to have written at least three other poems of this class (on Cassandra, Laocoon and Philoctetes); and these would have come, in alphabetical order, after the last of the extant six (Idas).
The writing of the MS. is a fine uncial. It presents some traits of a distinctly Ptolemaic type, though it lacks some features found in the earlier Ptolemaic MSS. (those of the 3rd or 2nd century B.C.). Among the characteristic forms of letters is the [form of Upsilon], with a shallow curve on the top of the upright; a form found in MSS. ascribed to the 1st century B.C., and different from the more fully formed upsilon of the Roman period. Another very significant letter is the [Xi], written as [form of Xi], a form which begins to go out after _c._ 50 B.C., giving place to one in which the middle stroke is connected with the other two. From these and other indications it is probable that the MS. is not later than the middle of the 1st century B.C.
The scribe, though he sometimes corrected his own mistakes, was, on the whole, careless of the sense, as of the metre; he seems to have been a mechanical copyist, excellent in penmanship, but [v.03 p.0124] intent only on the letters. The MS. has received corrections or small supplements from at least two different persons. One of them (Kenyon's A²) was contemporary, or nearly so, with the scribe. The other (A³) was considerably later; he wrote a Roman cursive which might belong to the end of the 1st century A.D., or to the early part of the 2nd. The correctors seem to be generally trustworthy; though, like the scribe, they were inattentive to metre, passing over many metrical faults which could easily have been removed. They appear to have compared their MS. with another, or others; but they sometimes made a bad use of such aid, intruding a false reading where their text had the true one.
Breathings are generally added, especially rough breathings; the form is usually square, but sometimes partially rounded. Accents are added, not to all words, but only, as a rule, to those which might cause doubt or difficulty to the reader. This was the Alexandrian practice, accents being regarded as aids to correct reading, and more liberally used when the dialect was not Attic. In accordance with the older system, the accent is not written on the last syllable of a word; when the accent falls there, a grave accent is written on the preceding syllable, or on two such syllables (_e.g._ [Greek: blêchras, pauthalês]).
As Kenyon observes, no MS. of equal antiquity is so well supplied with accents. The MS. which comes nearest to it in this respect is the Alcman fragment in the Louvre, which is of similar or slightly higher age, belonging perhaps to the early part of the 1st century A.D.; and in that MS. the comparatively frequent accents were doubtless designed to aid readers unfamiliar with Alcman's Laconian Doric. With regard to other grammatical or metrical signs ([Greek: prosôidiai]) used in the Bacchylides MS., there is not much that calls for special remark. The punctuation, whether by the scribe or by correctors, is very sparse, and certainly cannot always be regarded as authoritative. The signs denoting the end of a strophe or antistrophe (_paragraphus_), of an epode (_coronis_), or of an ode (_asterisk_), are often omitted by the scribe, and, when employed, are sometimes placed incorrectly, or employed in an irregular manner.
EDITIONS.--F. G. Kenyon, _Ed. princeps_ (1897); F. Blass, 3rd ed. (1904); H. Jurenka (1898); N. Festa, text, translation and notes (1898). [The latest edition is by Sir Richard Jebb (1905), with introduction, notes, translation, and bibliography; text only (1906). See also T. Zanghieri, _Studi su Bacchilide, Bibliografia Bacchilidea, 1897-1905_ (1905)].
(R. C. J.)
[1] The references are given according to the numbering in Jebb's edition.
[2] For other explanations suggested, see Jebb's edition, Introd. p. 18.
BACCIO D'AGNOLO (_c._ 1460-1543), Florentine wood-carver, sculptor and architect, had the family name of Baglioni, but was always known by the abbreviation of Bartolommeo into Baccio and the use of d'Agnolo as meaning the son of Angelo, his father's name. He started as a wood-carver, and between 1491 and 1502 did much of the decorative carving in the church of Santa Maria Novella and the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence. Having made his reputation as a sculptor he appears to have turned his attention to architecture, and to have studied at Rome, though at what precise date is uncertain; but quite at the beginning of the 16th century he was engaged with Simon Pollajuolo in restoring the Palazzo Vecchio, and in 1506 he was commissioned to complete the drum of the cupola of the metropolitan church of Santa Maria del Fiore. The latter work, however, was interrupted on account of adverse criticisms from Michelangelo, and it remained unexecuted. Baccio d' Agnolo also planned the Villa Borghese and the Bartolini palace, with other fine palaces and villas. The Bartolini palace was the first house to be given frontispieces of columns to the door and windows, previously confined to churches; and he was ridiculed by the Florentines for his innovation. Another much-admired work by him was the campanile of the church of Santo Spirito. His studio was the resort of the most celebrated artists of the day, Michelangelo, Sansovino, the brothers Sangallo and the young Raphael. He died in 1543, leaving three sons, all architects, the best-known being Giuliano.
BACH, JOHANN SEBASTIAN (1685-1750), German musical composer.
[Sidenote: Family.]
The Bach family was of importance in the history of music for nearly two hundred years. Four branches of it were known at the beginning of the 16th century, and in 1561 we hear of Hans Bach of Wechmar who is believed to be the father of Veit Bach (born about 1555). The family genealogy, drawn up by J. Sebastian Bach himself and completed by his son Philipp Emanuel, describes Veit Bach as the founder of the family, a baker and a miller, "whose zither must have sounded very pretty among the clattering of the mill-wheels." His son, Hans Bach, "_der Spielmann_," is the first professional musician of the family. Of Hans's large family the second son, Christoph, was the grandfather of Sebastian Bach. Another son, Heinrich, of Arnstadt, had two sons, Johann Michael and Johann Christoph, who are among the greatest of J. S. Bach's forerunners, Johann Christoph being now supposed (although this is still disputed) to be the author of the splendid motet, _Ich lasse dich nicht_ ("I wrestle and pray"), formerly ascribed to Sebastian Bach. Another descendant of Veit Bach, Johann Ludwig, was admired more than any other ancestor by Sebastian, who copied twelve of his church cantatas and sometimes added work of his own to them.
The Bach family never left Thuringia until the sons of Sebastian went into a more modern world. Through all the misery of the peasantry at the period of the Thirty Years' War this clan maintained its position and produced musicians who, however local their fame, were among the greatest in Europe. So numerous and so eminent were they that in Erfurt musicians were known as "Bachs," even when there were no longer any members of the family in the town. Sebastian Bach thus inherited the artistic tradition of a united family whose circumstances had deprived them of the distractions of the century of musical fermentation which in the rest of Europe had destroyed polyphonic music.
[Sidenote: Biography.]
Johann Sebastian Bach was baptized at Eisenach on the 23rd of March 1685. His parents died in his tenth year, and his elder brother, Johann Christoph, organist at Ohrdruf, took charge of him and taught him music. The elder brother is said to have been jealous of Sebastian's talent, and to have forbidden him access to a manuscript volume of works by Froberger, Buxtehude and other great organists. Every night for six months Sebastian got up, put his hand through the lattice of the bookcase, and copied the volume out by moonlight, to the permanent ruin of his eyesight (as is shown by all the extant portraits of him at a later age and by the blindness of his last years). When he had finished, his brother discovered the copy and took it away from him. In 1700 Sebastian, now fifteen and thrown on his own resources by the death of his brother, went to Lüneburg, where his beautiful soprano voice obtained him an appointment at the school of St Michael as chorister. He seems, however, to have worked more at instrumental than at vocal music. Apart from the choristers' routine, his position provided only for his general education, and we know little about his definite musical instructors. In any case he owed his musical development mainly to his own incessant study of classical and contemporary composers, such as Frescobaldi (_c._ 1587), Caspar Kerl (1628-1693), Buxtehude, Froberger, Muffat the elder, Pachelbel and probably Johann Joseph Fux (1660-1741), the author of the _Gradus ad Parnassum_ on which all later classical composers were trained. A prettier and no less authentic story than that of his brother's forbidden organ-volume tells how, on his return from one of the many holiday expeditions which Bach made to Hamburg on foot to hear the great Dutch organist Reinken, he sat outside an inn longing for the dinner he could not afford, when two herring-heads were flung out of the window, and he found in each of them a ducat with which he promptly paid his way, not home, but back to Hamburg. At Hamburg, also, Keiser was laying the foundations of German opera on a splendid scale which must have fired Bach's imagination though it never directly influenced his style. On the other hand Keiser's church music was of immense importance in his development. In Celle the famous _Hofkapelle_ brought the influence of French music to bear upon Bach's art, an influence which inspired nearly all his works in suite-form and to which his many autograph copies of Couperin's music bear testimony. Indeed, there is no branch of music, from Palestrina onwards, conceivably accessible in Bach's time, of which we do not find specimens carefully copied in his own handwriting. On the other hand, when Bach, at the age of nineteen, became organist at Arnstadt, he found Lübeck within easy distance, and there, in October 1705, he went to hear Buxtehude, whose organ works show so close an affinity to Bach's style that only their lack of coherence as wholes reveals to the attentive listener that with all their nobility they are not by Bach himself. Bach's enthusiasm for Buxtehude caused him to outstay his leave by three months, and this, together with his [v.03 p.0125] habit of astonishing the congregation by the way he harmonized the chorales got him into trouble. But he was already too great an ornament to be lightly dismissed; and though his answers to the complaints of the authorities (every word of which makes amusing reading in the archives of the church) were spirited rather than satisfactory, and the _consistorium_ had to add to their complaints the grave scandal of his allowing a "strange maiden" to sing in the church,[1] Bach was able to maintain his position at Arnstadt until he obtained the organistship of St Blasius in Mühlhausen in 1707. Here he married his cousin, easily identified with the "strange maiden" of Arnstadt; and here he wrote his first great church cantatas, _Aus der Tiefe_, _Gott ist mein König_ and _Gottes Zeit_.
Bach's mastery of the keyboard attracted universal attention, and prevented his ever being unemployed. In 1708 he went to Weimar where his successes were crowned by his appointment, in 1714, at the age of twenty-nine, as _Hofkonzertmeister_ to the duke of Weimar. Here the composition of sacred music was one of his most congenial duties, and the great cantata, _Ich hatte viel Bekümmerniss_, was probably the first work of his new office. In 1717 Bach visited Dresden in the course of a concert tour, and was induced to challenge the arrogant French organist, J. Louis Marchand, who was making himself thoroughly disliked by the German musicians who could not deny his powers. Bach was first given an opportunity of listening secretly to Marchand's playing, then a competition on the organ was proposed, and a day was fixed for the tournament at which all the court and all the musical celebrities of the town were to be present, to see nothing less than the issue between French and German music. Marchand took up the challenge contemptuously, but it would appear that he also was allowed to listen secretly to Bach's playing, for on the day of the tournament the only news of him was that he had left Dresden by the earliest coach.
This triumph was followed by Bach's appointment as _Kapellmeister_ to the duke of Cöthen, a post which he held from 1717 to 1723. The Cöthen period is that of Bach's central instrumental works, such as the first book of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_, the solo violin and violoncello sonatas, the Brandenburg concertos, and the French and English suites.
In 1723, finding his position at Cöthen uninspiring for choral music, he removed to Leipzig, where he became cantor of the Thomasschule, being still able to retain his post as visiting _Kapellmeister_ at Cöthen, besides a similar position at Weissenfels. His wife had died in 1720, leaving seven children, of whom Friedermann and Philipp Emanuel had a great future before them. (For his sons see BACH, K. P. E., below.) In December 1721 Bach married again, and for the beautiful soprano voice of his second wife he wrote many of his most inspired arias. She was a great help to him with all his work, and her musical handwriting soon became so like his own that her copies are difficult to distinguish from his autographs. In 1729 Bach heard that Handel was for a second time visiting Halle on his way back to London from Italy. A former attempt of Bach's to meet Handel had failed, and now he was too ill to travel, so he sent his son to Halle to invite Handel to Leipzig; but the errand was not successful, and much to Bach's disappointment he never met his only compeer. Bach so admired Handel that he made a manuscript copy of his _Passion nach Brockes_. This work, though almost unknown in England then as now, was, next to the oratorios of Keiser, incomparably the finest Passion then accessible, as Graun's beautiful masterpiece, _Der Tod Jesu_, was not composed until four years after Bach's death. The disgusting poem of Brockes (which was set by every German composer of the time) was transformed by Bach with real literary skill as the groundwork of the non-scriptural numbers in his _Passion according to St John_.
All Bach's most colossal achievements, such as the _Passion according to St Matthew_ and the _B Minor Mass_ (for discussion of which see ORATORIO and MASS), date from his cantorship at Leipzig. But, important and congenial as was his position there, and smooth as the course of his life seems to have been until his death in 1750, he must have had quite as much experience as can have been good for him. He was often ruffled by the town councillors of Leipzig, who (like his earlier employers at Arnstadt) were shocked by the "unecclesiastical style" of his compositions and by his independent bearing. But he had more serious troubles. Of his seven children by his first wife only three survived him. By his second wife he had thirteen children, of whom he lost four of the six sons. For the head of so large a family his post was dignified rather than lucrative, and few documents tell a prouder tale of uncomplaining thrift than the inventory of his possessions made after his death. One can only be thankful that he did not live to see anything but the wonderful promise of his son Friedermann, who, in the words of the brilliantly successful K. Philipp Emanuel Bach, was more nearly capable of replacing his father than all the rest of the family together. The prospect of complete loss of the tradition of his own polyphonic art he faced with equanimity, saying of the new style, which in the hands of his own son, Philipp Emanuel, was soon to eclipse it for the next hundred years, "The art has advanced to great heights: the old style of music no longer pleases our modern ears." But it would have broken his heart if he had forseen that Friedermann Bach was to attain a disreputable old age after a dissolute and unproductive life.
The brilliant successes of Philipp Emanuel led to his appointment as court-composer to the king of Prussia and hence, in 1747, to Sebastian's being summoned to visit Frederick the Great at Potsdam, an incident which Bach always regarded as the culmination of his career, much as Dr Johnson regarded his interview with George III. Bach had to play on the numerous newly invented pianofortes of Silbermann which the king had bought, and also to try the organs of the churches of Potsdam. Frederick, whose musical reputation rested on a genuine if narrow basis, gave him a splendid theme on which to extemporize; and on that theme Bach afterwards wrote _Das musikalische Opfer_. Two years after this event his sight began to fail, and before long he shared the fate of Handel in becoming perfectly blind.[2]
Bach died of apoplexy on the 28th of July 1750. His loss was deplored as that of one of the greatest organists and clavier players of his time. Of his compositions comparatively little was known. At his death his MS. works were divided amongst his sons, and many of them have been lost; only a small fraction of his greater works was recovered when, after the lapse of nearly a century, the verdict of his neglectful posterity was reversed by the modern upholders of polyphonic art. Even now some important works are still apparently irrecoverable.
[Sidenote: Work and influence.]
The rediscovery of Bach is closely connected with the name of Mendelssohn, who was amongst the first to proclaim by word and deed the powers of a genius too gigantic to be grasped by three generations. By the enthusiastic endeavours of Mendelssohn, Schumann and others, and in England still earlier by the performances and publications of Wesley and Crotch, the circle of Bach's worshippers rapidly increased. In 1850, a century after his death, a society was started for the correct publication of all Bach's remaining works. Robert Franz, the great song-writer, did good service in arranging some of Bach's finest works for modern performance, until the experience of a purer scholarship could prove not only the possibility but the incomparably greater beauty of a strict adherence to Bach's own scoring. The Porson of Bach-scholarship, however, is Wilhelm Rust (grandson of the interesting composer of that name who wrote polyphonic suites and fantasias early in the 19th century). During the fourteen years of his editorship of the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ he displayed a steadily increasing insight into Bach's style which has never since been rivalled. In more than one case he has restored harmonies of priceless value from incomplete texts, by means of research and reasoning which he sums up in a modest footnote that reads as something self-evident. His prefaces to the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ volumes are perhaps the most valuable contributions to the criticism of 18th-century music ever written, Spitta's great biography not excepted.
[v.03 p.0126] Bach's importance in the history of music cannot be exaggerated. His art, neglected as old-fashioned and crabbed by his younger contemporaries, survived only in certain limited aspects as the subject of a desultory and unintelligent academic study, until its re-discovery by Mendelssohn. And yet, whatever disguise may have been foisted on it by corrupt traditions and ignorance of its idioms, whenever any fragment of it gained the inner ear of a true composer the effect on the history of music was immediate and profound. Indeed his influence is by no means chiefly manifested in the time when his work became known in its larger aspects, though the Bach-revival is very obviously connected with certain tendencies in the "Romantic" movement in music. But, however clear we may consider Bach's claim to the title of "the first of Romanticists," the full influence of his whole work has hardly yet begun to show itself. Schumann died before even such enthusiasts as the editors of the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ began to find more beauty than extravagance in Bach's ordinary musical language (see, for example, Hauptmann's letters _passim_, _The Letters of a Leipzig Cantor_, trans. by A. D. Coleridge, London, Novello, Ewer, 1892), or, indeed, to grasp the main features of his designs.[3] The labours of the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ have occupied more than fifty years, during which about four-fifths of Bach's choral works have been published for the first time; and it would be surprising if another fifty years sufficed to make these adequately known to the world at large. It is difficult to make an anthology of such bulky works as church-cantatas, nor does an anthology meet the purpose where the whole work so constantly attains that excellence for which the anthologist seeks. Except for practical difficulties (as when Bach writes for obsolete instruments) the only reason why some cantatas are better known than others is that a beginning must be made somewhere. Indeed, a cantata was recently selected, on the ground of its popularity, for a choral competition in a small English country town the year before it was performed as a novelty in Berlin!
It is clear, then, that the influence of Bach's art as an understood whole is still undeveloped. In the past history of music his part was hardly suspected except by the great composers themselves; and, to any one contemplating the art of the generation after him, it might have seemed that both he and Handel had worked in vain. Yet his was the most subtle and universal force in the development of music, even when his musical language seemed hopelessly forgotten. Mozart, when rapidly advancing to the height of his mastery, had but to read the Baron von Swieten's manuscript copies of the motets and of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_, and his style, quite apart from his immediate essays in the old art-forms, and apart also from the influence of his study of Handel, developed a new polyphonic richness and depth of harmony which steadily increased until his untimely death. Beethoven studied all the accessible works of Bach profoundly, and frequently quoted them in his sketch-books, often with a direct bearing on his own works. His rendering of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_ is said to be recorded in the marks of expression and _tempo_ given in Czerny's edition; and if that record is true, Beethoven must have been completely in the dark as to Bach's meaning in many important respects; but art is full of such illustrations of the way in which great minds influence each other in spite of every barrier which diversity of language and time can set. Beethoven's great Thirty-three Variations on a Waltz by Diabelli were actually described in the publisher's puff as worthy of their kinship with the "Goldberg Variations" of Bach; and that kinship is revealed in its truest light by a comparison between Beethoven's 31st variation and Bach's 25th; for here, just where the resemblance is most obvious, each composer utters his most intimate expression of feeling.
In the same way, Chopin is nowhere more characteristic than where he shows his love of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_ in his Études and Preludes; and so subtle is the influence of polyphonic style even over a writer so little apt to make direct use of it as Chopin, that one of Schumann's few plagiarisms occurs in his use of a phrase from Chopin's F minor Étude (written for the _Méthode des méthodes_) as the subject of a fugue (Op. 72, No. 3). And, apart from fugues, which Schumann cultivated assiduously at a late stage in his career, the influence of Bach pervades the texture and rhythm of his work in more ways than can easily be followed.
In a more external, but not less significant way, the _Passion according to St Matthew_ made its mark on Mendelssohn from the time when he discovered it at the age of twelve, and suggested to him many features in the general design of oratorios, by means of which he rescued that branch of art from the operatic influences that ruined Beethoven's _Mount of Olives_. Without the example of Bach, Wagner's schemes of _Leitmotif_ would never in his lifetime have become woven into that close polyphonic texture which secures for his music a flow as continuous as that of drama itself:--and intimately connected with this is the whole subject of Wagner's harmonization, which in many of its boldest characteristics was foreshadowed by Bach. A close study of the texture of Brahms's work shows that he develops Bach's and Beethoven's artistic devices _pari passu_, and that the result is a complete unification of that opposition between polyphony and form which in the infancy of the sonata (as in every transitional stage in musical history) threatened to wreck the art as a false antithesis wrecks a philosophy. Perhaps the only great composers who escaped the direct influence of Bach are Gluck and Berlioz. Even Gluck reproduced in every detail of harmony and figure the first twelve bars of the _Gigue_ of Bach's B flat Clavier-Partita in the aria "Je t'implore et je tremble" in _Iphigénie en Tauride_. But plagiarism, however unconscious, is a very different thing from that profound indebtedness which makes a great man attain his truest originality; and Gluck's training practically deprived him of Bach's direct influence, useful as that would have been to the attainment of his aims in harmonic and choral expression. The indirect influence no one could escape, for whatever in modern music is not traceable to Sebastian Bach is traceable to his sons, who were encouraged by their father in the cultivation of those infant art-forms which were so soon to dazzle the world into the belief that his own work was obsolete.
Bach's place in music is thus far higher than that of a reformer, or even of an inventor of new forms. He is a spectator of all musical time and existence, to whom it is not of the smallest importance whether a thing be new or old, so long as it is true. It is doubtful whether even the forms most peculiar to him (such as the arpeggio-prelude) are of his invention. Yet he left no form as he found it,--not even that most conventional of all, the Da Capo Aria, which he did not outwardly alter in the least. On the other hand, with every form he touched he said the last word. All the material that could be assimilated into a mature art he vitalized in his own way, and he had no imitators. The language of music changed at his death, and his influence became all-pervading just because he was not the prophet of the new art, but an unbiassed seeker of truth. Whether so great a man becomes "progressive" or "reactionary" depends on the artistic resources of his time. He will always work at the kind of art that is most complete and consistent in all its aspects. The same spirit of truthfulness that makes Sebastian Bach hold himself aloof from the progressive art which he encourages in his sons, drives Beethoven to invent new forms and new means of expression with every work he writes. Gluck abolished the Da Capo Aria, because it was unfit for dramatic music. Bach did not abolish it, because he did not intend to write dramatic music in the strict sense of the term. Mature musical art in Bach's time could not be dramatic, except in the loose sense in which the term may be applied to an epic poem. Dramatic expression, properly so called, can only be attained in music by the full development of resources that do not blend with those of Bach's art at all. Meanwhile there are many things unsuitable for the stage which are nevertheless valuable on purely musical grounds; and the Da Capo Aria was one. Bach [v.03 p.0127] developed it in a great variety of ways, while retaining even the minor details of what in other hands had long before become its conventional form; but the one thing he did not do was to abuse it according to time-honoured custom as the staple form for opera. For that he had too much dramatic insight. His treatment of other important art-forms is illustrated in the articles on CONTRAPUNTAL FORMS; CONCERTO and INSTRUMENTATION. Here we may attempt to illustrate his methods by such forms and characteristics as cannot be classified under those headings.
[Sidenote: Illustrations of Bach's method.]
1. The toccatas of Buxtehude and his predecessors show how an effective musical scheme may be suggested by running over the keyboard of an organ as if to try (_toccare_) the touch, then bursting out into sustained and full harmony, and at last settling down to a fugue. But before Bach no one seemed able to keep the fugue in motion long enough to make a convincing climax. Very soon it collapsed and the process of quasi-extemporization began again, to culminate in a new fugue which often gave the whole work a happy but deceptive suggestion of organic unity by being founded on an ingenious variation of the subject of the first fugue. But in Bach's hands the toccata becomes one of the noblest and most plastic of forms. The introductory runs may be disjointed and exaggerated to grotesqueness, until the gaps between them gradually fill out, and they build themselves up into grand piles of musical architecture, as in the organ toccata in C; or they may be worked out on an enormous scale in long and smooth canonic passages with a definite theme, as in the greatest of all toccatas, that in F for organ, which is most artistically followed by a fugue unusually quiet for its size. In one instance, the toccata at the beginning of the E minor clavier-partita, the introductory runs, though retaining much of the extempore character from which the form derives its name, take shape in a highly organized and rounded-off group of contrasted themes. The fugue follows without change of time, and is developed in so leisurely a manner that it is fully as long as a normal fugue on a large scale by the time it reaches what sounds like its central episode. At this point some of the introductory matter quietly enters, and leads to a recapitulation of the whole introduction in the key now reached. The obvious sequel would be a counter-development of the fugue, at least as long as what has gone before, as in the clavier-toccata in C minor; but Bach does not choose to weary the hearer and weaken the impression of breadth he has already made here. Instead, he expands this restatement of the introduction, and makes its harmonies deliberately return to the fundamental key, and thus in an astonishingly short time the toccata is brought to a close with the utmost effect of climax and finality. The same grasp of all the possible meanings of an artistic device shows itself in his treatment of the other features of toccata form. With his variety of proportion and flow he has no need to break off the fugue like earlier composers: but all the old devices by which the division into sections was managed are turned to account by him, and almost every toccata has its own scheme of contrasted movements, always based on the old natural idea of the growth of an organized music from a chaos of extemporization.
If this is Bach's treatment of a comparatively small and specialized art-form, it is obviously impossible to reduce the scantiest account of the rest of his work into practical limits here, nor is there as yet a sufficient body of accepted criticism of Bach for such an account to carry further conviction than an expression of individual opinion. Fortunately, however, Bach was constantly re-arranging his own compositions; indeed he evidently regards adaptability to fresh environment as the test of his finest work: and we cannot do better than review the evidence thus given to us,--evidence which only Beethoven's sketch-books surpass in significance.
2. The successful transplanting of a work of art to a fresh environment is obviously a convincing test of our definitions of the art-forms concerned, if only we take care to distinguish between the alterations produced by the change of environment and those that imply the composer's dissatisfaction with the original version. In Bach's case this seldom causes much difficulty; his methods of adaptation are so logical and so varied as to form a scheme of musical morphology with all the interest and none of the imperfections of the geological record; and the few cases in which a work owes its changes to the need for improvement as well as adaptation cause no confusion, but rather form a link between the pure adaptations and the numerous revisions of his favourite works without change of medium. There is, for example, no difficulty in separating the element of corrective criticism from that of the impulse to give an already successful composition a larger or more permanent form, in such cases as the transformations undergone by the movements of the birthday cantata, _Was mir behagt ist nur die muntre Jagd_, during their distribution among the church cantatas, _Also hat Gott die Welt geliebt_ and _Man singet mit Freuden vom Sieg_. The fine bass aria, "Ein Fürst ist seines Landes Pan," was obviously ill-proportioned, with its breakneck return to the tonic and its perfunctory close; and Bach's chief concern in adapting it for its place as the aria, "Du bist geboren mir zu Gute," in _Also hat Gott_, was to remedy this defect. On the other hand, the use of the delightful ritornello for violoncello from the little aria, "Weil die wollenreichen Heerden," in the birthday cantata, and the restoration of the rejected long instrumental _fugato_ that was to follow, were obviously brought about by the conception of the entirely new material for the voice in the famous aria, "Mein gläubiges Herze." And when the last chorus of _Was mir behagt_ became the first chorus of _Man singet mit Freuden_, it was expanded to the proportions necessary for a triumphant opening (as distinguished from a cheerful finale) by the adroit insertion of new material between every joint in the design. This material, being new, could not produce the effect of diffuseness that would result from the expansion of the old material already complete in its simplest form, and thus this instance does not imply criticism.
A highly interesting example of pure self-criticism is the _Passion according to St John_, which was twice revised, and each time reduced to a smaller scale by the omission of some of its finest numbers. The final result was a work of perfect proportions, and of the rejected numbers one (a magnificent aria with chorale) remained unused, two were replaced by finer substitutes, others took shape as one of the most complete and remarkable of the church cantatas, _Du wahrer Gott_, while the greatest of the figured chorales was transferred to the _Passion according to St Matthew_, of which it now crowns the first part.
3. Such instances of self-criticism might be paralleled in the works of other composers; but there is no parallel in music to Bach's power of reproducing already perfect works in different media. Here Bach reveals to us identities in difference which we should otherwise never have suspected. Of course it is possible to arrange works in different ways without illustrating any profound identities at all. Handel, for instance, collected several of his favourite choruses in an enormous instrumental concerto (see vol. 46 of the _Händel-Gesellschaft_), and the result in the case of a chorus like "Lift up your Heads" was ridiculous. Bach, however, does not arrange old work merely to please a court where it was already admired. He never leaves it in a state of mere make-shift, though he cannot always attain his evident aim of a new originality. His methods of orchestration and the profoundly significant identity of certain forms of chorus with certain concerto forms may better be described under their proper headings (see articles INSTRUMENTATION and CONCERTO). Here we will attempt first to show, by illustrations of Bach's power of adding parts to already complete harmonic and contrapuntal schemes, what was his conception of the nature of an art-form, and secondly, by means of a short analysis of cases in which he adapts the same music to different words, to define his range of expression.
Bach arranged all his violin concertos for clavier, including two that are lost in the original version. Here his power of providing new and apparently necessary material for the left hand of the cembalist (or, in the double concertos, two left [v.03 p.0128] hands) without disturbing the already complete score, is astonishing; and it fails only in the slow movements, which he prefers to leave obviously in the condition of an arrangement rather than to spoil their broad cantabile style by a too polyphonic bass.
But these cases are insignificant compared with such transformations as that of the prelude of the E major partita for unaccompanied violin into the sinfonia for organ obligato accompanied by full orchestra (including three trumpets and a pair of drums) at the beginning of the church cantata, _Wir danken dir, Gott._ The original version is perhaps the most complete and natural of the violin solos, for its arpeggios produce full harmony without recourse to that constant attempt to play on all four strings at once, which makes the performance of the polyphonic movements a _tour de force_ in which steady rhythm is nearly impossible. Yet in the sinfonia its proportions seem to reveal themselves for the first time. Not a bar is displaced and not a note of the new accompaniment is unnecessary. The whole is almost entirely without themes; for even this, the largest of all arpeggio-preludes, consists essentially of the gradual unfolding of a scheme of harmony in which rhythmic and melodic organization is reduced to a minimum. Only in the first line does the incisive initial figure persist a little longer in the new accompaniment than in the original solo, but on the last page it reappears and pervades the whole orchestra, even the drums thundering out its rhythm at the climax where the holding-notes of the trumpet span the torrent of harmony like a rainbow.
Deeper still is the thought that underlies the transformation of two movements of the great violin-concerto in D minor (unfortunately lost except in its splendid arrangement for clavier) into parts of the church cantata, _Wir müssen durch viel Trübsal in das Reich Gottes eingehen_. In both movements the violin is replaced by the organ an octave lower, the orchestral accompaniment remaining where it was. This treatment, with the addition of new and plaintive parts for wind instruments, turns the already very long and sombre first movement into an impressive idealization of the "much tribulation" that lies between us and the kingdom of heaven. The slow movement is still more solemn, and is arranged in the same way as regards the instruments; but from the first note to the last a four-part chorus sings, to the words of the title, a mass of quite new material (except for the bass and for numerous imitations of the solo-part), treated with every variety of vocal colouring and a grandeur of conception which is not dwarfed even by the _Passion according to St Matthew._
4. The four short masses, the Christmas oratorio and the B minor mass, contain every variety of adaptation from earlier work. The four short masses are indeed obviously compiled for use in a church where the orchestra was small. Only four movements in the whole collection are not traceable to other extant works; all the rest comes from church cantatas. The adaptations are not always significant; no attempt, for example, is made in the G minor mass to conceal how unfit for a _Kyrie eleison_ is the tremendous denunciatory chorus, _Herr, deine Augen sehen nach dem Glauben_. But the F major and G major masses are very instructive; and the A major mass, except for the damage done to the instrumentation, is a work that no one would conceive to be not original. The Kyrie is one of Bach's most individual utterances and could surely never have fitted any other text, but we should say the same of the Gloria if we did not possess the church cantata, _Halt im Gedächtniss_. The Gloria begins with a triumphant polyphonic chorus accompanied by a spirited symphony for strings. At the words "et in terra pax" the time changes, and two flutes softly accompany a single solemn melody in the altos. At the "laudamus te" the material of the beginning returns, and is interrupted again by the calm slow movement, this time in another key and for another voice, at the words "adoramus te." Twice the "laudamus" and "adoramus" alternate in a finely proportioned design; at last the words "gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam" are set for the full chorus to the music of the slow movement, the strings join with the flutes, and this most appropriate setting of those words is finished. And yet it is quite impossible to regard this as superseding the last chorus of _Halt im Gedächtniss_. Not one bar or harmony of the framework differs; yet the two versions are two independent works of art. In the cantata the beginning is for instruments only; when the slow movement (here adequately scored for a flute and two _oboe d' amore_) begins, the basses, permanently separated from the rest of the chorus, sing "Peace be unto you." The other voices then sing the triumph of the faithful helped by the Saviour in their battle against the world. The slow movement is, of course, set for bass alone throughout, and at the last recurrence of the _allegro_ the bass continues to sing "Friede sei mit euch" through the rest of the chorus, as if leading the chorus of humanity through strife to the kingdom of heaven, and then the single voice of peace remains to the end. Hardly a bar of the chorus-material is on the same themes in the two versions.
The study of the sources of the Christmas oratorio will complete the evidence on which we support our estimate of Bach's methods and range of expression. It is certain that the occasional cantatas, from which all except the chorale-tune numbers and those set to words from the Bible were taken, date from shortly before the oratorio; and that Bach, being incapable of putting inferior work even into birthday odes, rescued it from oblivion by having the verses for the oratorio numbers built on the same rhythms as those of the odes in order that he might use those occasional works as a sketch (see _B.-G._, _Jahr._ xxxiv. preface). Be this as it may, the alterations are confined to details even where an aria is transposed a fourth or fifth; but the effect of them is startling. Pleasure (Wollust) sings a lovely soprano aria to allure Hercules from the paths of Virtue, to which Hercules replies indignantly with an aria in a spirited staccato style. It is no doubt a shock to our feelings to find that Wollust's aria became the Virgin's cradle-song, while Hercules's reply became the alto aria in which Zion is bidden to "prepare for the Bridegroom." But it does not warrant the inference that Bach's music lacks definite characterization: on the contrary, these two arias are the best demonstration of his profound insight into the possibilities of musical expression within his range. It is no part of his conception of art that Wollust should be represented by a Wagnerian Venusberg-music; the obvious way to represent Pleasure was by writing pleasant music, and with Bach's ideas of pleasance the step from this to the solemn beauty of the sacred cradle-song was a mere matter of change of colour and _tempo_. The key is lowered from B flat to G, the strings are veiled with the tender reed tone of a group of _oboe d' amore_, the soprano becomes an alto whose notes are, as it were, surrounded with a nimbus by being doubled in the upper octave by a flute; and the aria becomes worthy of its new purpose, not by losing a grossness which it never possessed, but by gaining the richness which distinguishes the perfect work from the boldly executed draft.
As to the aria of Hercules the change is in manner, while the character, in the human sense of the term, is quite rightly the same. Both Hercules and the faithful Christian of the oratorio are renouncing pomps and vanities for the claims of a higher life; in the one case indignantly, in the other case inspired "mit zärtlichem Triebe." A change to a _legato_ style, the substitution of a single _oboe d' amore_ for _tutti_ violins, the addition of delicate ornaments indicative of a slower pace, and the noble stream of melody preserve its identity while changing its aspect. Bach's larger designs react on their changing contents as a cathedral reacts on the impressiveness of the rites performed within it, or as nature reacts on a poet's thoughts; and in the same way Bach's melody is greater than any possible mood of the moment, not because of that vague and negative pseudo-classical quality misnamed "reserve," but because of its vital individuality. In their proper directions its changes are limitless; elsewhere change is inconceivable. No amount of "Umarbeitung" could, for instance, turn the aria of Hercules into the Virgin's cradle-song, or Wollust's aria into the exhortation of Zion to prepare for the Bridegroom. In short, Bach's melodies are characteristic, not like a mask with a set expression, but like a living face that is the more individual for the mobility of its features.
[v.03 p.0129] Within these limits, that is, short of dramatic expression in just so far as "the end of drama is not character but action," there is nothing good that Bach's art does not express. He has plenty of humour, if the term may be applied to art which is, so to speak, always literal,--art in which a jest is a jest and serious things are treated with familiar directness, and all, whether in jest or earnest, is primarily beautiful. In _Der Streit zwischen Phoebus und Pan_ Bach answers the critics who censured him for his pedantry and provincial ignorance of the grand Italian operatic style, by making effective use of that style in Pan's prize-aria ("Zum Tanze, zum Sprunge, so wack-ack-ack-ackelt das Herz"), nobly representing his own style in Phoebus's aria, and promptly caricaturing it in the second part of Pan's ("Wenn der Ton zu mühsam klingt"). Midas votes for Pan--"denn nach meinen beiden Ohren singt er unvergleichlich schön." At the word "Ohren" the violins give a pianissimo "hee-haw" which is fully as witty in its musical aptness as Mendelssohn's clown-theme in the Overture to the _Midsummer Night's Dream_; and in the ensuing dialogue their prophecy is verified. As with many other great artists, Bach's playfulness occasionally showed itself inconveniently where little things shock little minds. The hilarious aria, "Ermuntre dich," in the church cantata, _Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele_, is one instance, and the quaint representation of the words "dimisit inanes" in the _Magnificat_ is another. This great work, one of the most terse and profound things Bach ever wrote, contains, among many other subtle inspirations, one conception with which we may fitly end our survey, for it strongly suggests Bach himself and the destiny of all that work which he finished so lovingly, with no prospect of its becoming more than a family heirloom and a salutary tradition in his Leipzig choir-school. In the _Magnificat_ he sets the words "quia respexit humilitatem ancillae suae" to a touchingly appropriate soprano solo accompanied by his favourite _oboe d'amore_. With the next sentence "ecce enim beatam me dicent" the tone brightens to a quiet joy, but Bach takes advantage of the syntax of the Latin in a way that defies translation, and the sentence is finished by the chorus. "Omnes generationes" seem indeed to pass before us in the crowded fugue which rises in perpetual stretto, the incessant entries of its subject now mounting the whole scale, each part a step higher than the last, and now collecting in unison with a climax of closeness and volume overwhelming in its impression of time and multitude.
SUMMARY OF BACH'S WORKS
No attempt is here made at chronological sequence. The changes in Bach's style, though clear and important, are almost impossible to describe in untechnical language; nor are they of such general interest as to make it worth while to expand this summary by an attempt to apportion its contents among the Arnstadt-Mühlhausen period, the Weimar period, the Cöthen period (chiefly remarkable for instrumental music and comparatively uninteresting in its easy-going choral music), and the last period (1733-1750) in which, while the choral works became at once more numerous and more terse (_e.g._ _Jesu, der du meine Seele_) the instrumental music, though never diffuse, shows an increasing preference for designs on a large scale. (Compare, for example, the second book of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_, 1744, with the first, 1722.)
I.--CHURCH MUSIC
A. _With Orchestra_
190 church cantatas: besides several which are only known from fragmentary sets of parts. Of the 190, 40 are for solo voices, about 60 (including some solo cantatas) are more or less founded on chorales, and the rest, though almost invariably containing a chorale (for congregational singing), are practically short oratorios and frequently so entitled by Bach himself.
3 wedding cantatas: the Easter oratorio (exactly like the above-mentioned oratorio-cantatas; and the Christmas oratorio (six similar cantatas forming a connected design for performance on six separate days).
The Passions according to St Matthew and St John.
Funeral ode for the Duchess Eberhardine (now known to be arranged from portions of the lost Passion according to St Mark).
4 short masses (_i.e._ Kyrie and Gloria only) mainly compiled from church cantatas.
Mass in B minor. Magnificat in D. A few other ecclesiastical Latin choruses.
B. _Without Orchestra_
5 motets _a capella_ (but there is reason to believe that these, except _Komm Jesu komm_, were intended to be partly supported by the organ). A sixth motet has an obligato figured-bass accompaniment.
A few early choruses, mostly turned to account in later works.
A large collection of plain chorales, including several original melodies.
II.--SECULAR VOCAL MUSIC
_Der Streit zwischen Phoebus und Pan_ and _Der zufrieden gestellte Aeolus_; both entitled _Dramma per Musica_, but showing no more essential connexion with the stage than Handel's _Acis and Galatea_.
7 solo and 7 choral cantatas, of which latter three were almost entirely absorbed into the Christmas oratorio and the B minor mass. Of the solo cantatas two are Italian (one of these being Bach's only developed work for voice and clavier) and two are burlesque.
Several tunes with clavier bass, almost foreshadowing the modern song.
III.--INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC
A. _Orchestral_
7 clavier concertos arranged from violin concertos and other sources.
3 concertos for two claviers (two being arranged from concertos for two violins).
2 concertos for three claviers.
The 6 Brandenburg concertos, for various combinations.
2 violin concertos, and a colossal _torso_ of a concerted violin-movement forming the prelude to a lost church cantata.
1 concerto for two violins.
4 orchestral suites. (The symphony in F in the same volume of the _B. G._ is only an earlier version of the first Brandenburg concerto.)
B. _Chamber Music_
3 sonatas for clavier and flute; a suite and 6 sonatas for clavier and violin, 3 for clavier and viola da gamba; 2 trios with figured bass; 2 flute-sonatas and a violin suite with figured bass; 6 sonatas (_i.e._ 3 sonatas and 3 partitas) for violin alone; 6 suites for violoncello alone.
C. _Clavier and Organ Music_
Bach's own collections are:--
1. _Das wohltemperirte Klavier_ for clavichord: two books each containing 24 preludes and fugues, one in each major and minor key; with the object of stimulating tuning by "equal temperament" instead of sacrificing the euphony of remoter keys to that of the more usual ones.
2. _Klavier-Übung_ (chiefly for harpsichord) in four books comprising: (i.) 15 two-part inventions and 15 three-part symphonies, (ii.) 6 partitas, (iii.) The "Goldberg" variations. 4 duets, and an important collection of organ choral-preludes, with the "St Anne" prelude and fugue in E flat, (iv.) The Italian concerto and French overture.
3. The 6 "French" and 6 "English" suites.
The other clavier works fill two _Jahrgänge_ of the _B.-G._
Bach's collections of organ music are (besides that included in the third part of the _Klavier-Übung_):--(1) 6 sonatas. (2) 4 groups of 6 organ preludes and fugues. (3) _Das Orgelbüchlein_, a collection of short choral-preludes carefully planned--all the blank pages of the autograph being headed with the titles of the chorales intended for them--but not half executed. (The projected whole would have been a larger volume than the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_). (4) 18 larger chorale-preludes, including Bach's last composition. (5) The 6 "Schübler" chorales, all arranged from movements of cantatas.
Besides these there are the three great independent toccatas and the Passacaglia. The remaining choral-preludes fill one _Jahrgang_, and the other organ works two more.
D. _Unclassified_
Two important instrumental works cannot be classified, viz. _Das musikalische Opfer_, the volume of compositions (two great fugues, various puzzle-canons, and a splendid trio for flute, violin and figured bass) on the theme given to Bach by Frederick the Great; and _Die Kunst der Fuge_, a progressive series of fugues on one and the same subject, written in open score as if entirely abstract studies, but all (except the extreme contrapuntal _tours de force_) in admirable clavier style and of great musical value.
IV.--LOST WORKS
A. _Choral_
J. N. Forkel's statement that Bach wrote 5 _Jahrgange_ of church cantatas (_i.e._ enough to provide one for each Sunday and holy day for five years) would indicate that some 80 are lost, but there is reason to believe that this is a great exaggeration. Not more than six or seven cantatas are known to be lost, by the evidence of fragments, text-books, &c.
Forkel also says that Bach wrote five Passions. Besides the great Matthew and John Passions there is in an indisputable Bach autograph one according to St Luke; but it is so worthless that the best plea for its authenticity offered by responsible critics is that only a personal interest could have induced Bach to make a copy of it.
[v.03 p.0130] The lost Passion according to St Mark must, judging by the movements preserved in the _Trauer-Ode_, have been larger than that according to St John.
Was there a _genuine_ Lucas-Passion? If so, Forkel's report of five Passions would be explained. Several lost secular works are partly preserved in those portions of the Christmas oratorio of which the sources are not definitely known, but which, like the other duplicated numbers, are fair copies in the autograph.
B. _Instrumental_
Three violin concertos and one for two violins; known only from the wonderful clavier versions.
Most of the first movement of the A major sonata for clavier and flute which was written in the spare staves at the bottom of a larger score. Some of these have been cut off.
V.--ARRANGEMENTS OF WORKS BY OTHER COMPOSERS
Arrangements for harpsichord alone of 16 concertos, generally described as by Vivaldi, but including several by other composers.
4 Vivaldi concertos arranged for organ.
Many of these arrangements contain much original matter, such as entirely new slow movements, large cadenzas, &c.
Concerto in A minor for 4 claviers and orchestra, from Vivaldi's B minor concerto for 4 violins. This, though the most faithful to its original, is the richest and most Bach-like of all these arrangements, and is well worth performing in public.
2 sonatas from the _Hortus Musicus_ of Reinken, arranged for clavier. (The ends of the slow movements are Bach.)
Finishing touches to cantatas by his uncle Johann Ludwig Bach. Also a very characteristic complete "Christe eleison" inserted in Kyrie of Johann Ludwig's.
VI.--DOUBTFUL AND SPURIOUS WORKS
Bach's autographs give the name of the composer on the outside sheet only. He was constantly making copies of all that interested him; and where the outside sheet is lost, only the music itself can tell us whether it is his or not. The above-mentioned _Passion according to St Luke_ is the chief case in point. The little music-books he and his second wife wrote for their children are full of pieces in the most various styles, and the editors of the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ have not completely identified them, even Couperin's well-known "Les Bergeries" escaping their scrutiny. A sonata for two claviers by Bach's eldest son, Wilhelm Friedermann, was detected by the editors after its inclusion in _Jahrgang_ xliv. The second of the 3 sonatas for clavier and flute is extremely suggestive of Bach's sons, but Philipp Emanuel ascribes it to his father. However, he might easily have docketed it wrongly while arranging copies of his father's works. It has a twin brother (_B.-G._ ix. Anhang ii.) for which he has not vouched.
Four absurd church cantatas are printed for conscience' sake in _Jahrgang_ xliii. More important than these, because by no means too obviously ridiculous to deceive a careless listener, is the well-known 8-part motet, _Lob, Ehr' und Weisheit_ (blessing and glory and wisdom). A closer acquaintance shows that it is really very poor stuff; and it was finally crowned with absurdity by the discovery that its composer was a contemporary of Bach,--and that his name was Wagner.
The beautiful motet, _Ich lasse dich nicht_, has long been known to be by one of Bach's uncles (Johann Christoph).
EDITIONS
Almost the only works of Bach published during his lifetime were the instrumental collections, most of which he engraved himself. Of the church cantatas only one, _Gott ist mein König_ (written when he was nineteen, but a very great work), was published in his lifetime.
Of modern editions that of the _Bach-Gesellschaft_ is, of course, the only complete one. It is, inevitably, of very unequal merit. Its first editors could not realize their own ignorance of Bach's language; their immediate admiration of his larger choruses seemed to them proof of their competence to retain or dismiss details of ornamentation, figured bass, variants between score and parts, &c., without always stopping to see what light these might shed on questions of _tempo_ and style--especially in the arias and recitatives, which they regarded as archaic almost in direct proportion to the depth of thought really displayed in them. In the 9th _Jahrgang_ Wilhelm Rust introduced scholarly methods, with the happiest results. The _Wohltemperirtes Klavier (Jahrgang_ xiv.) was edited by Kroll, who also made his text accessible in the _Edition Peters_ (which till then had only Czerny's--an amazing result of corrupt tradition, still widely accepted). Kroll's and Rust's volumes are far the best in the _B. G._ On Rust's death the standard deteriorated; his immediate successor seems more interested in reprinting in full an early version of a work of which Rust had given only the variants, than in digesting his own materials (_Jahrgang_ xxix.); and in his next volume (_Jahrgang_ xxx. p. 109) the bass and violin are a bar apart for a whole line. The last ten volumes, however, are again satisfactory, and in _Jahrgang_ xliv. the French and English suites are re-edited. Part of the B minor mass was also worked over again; and Kroll's text of the _Wohltemperirtes Klavier_ was supplemented by the evidence of the British Museum autograph. The Steingräber edition of the clavier works, edited by Dr Hans Bischoff, is incomparably the best, giving all the variants in footnotes and clearly distinguishing the extremely intelligent nuances and phrasing signs of the editor from the rare but significant indications of Bach himself. Nor does this wealth of scholarship interfere with the presentation of a straightforward, single text; though in addition there is every necessary explanation of the ornaments and kindred matters.
We have seen no other editions that distinguish Bach's text from the editor's taste--the disappointing publications of the _Neue Bachgesellschaft_[4] by no means excepted. We may remark that the older vocal scores of cantatas in the _Edition Peters_ are, though unfortunately but a selection, far better than the complete series issued by Breitkopf and Härtel in conformity with the _Bach Gesellschaft_, and therefore accepted as authoritative (see INSTRUMENTATION). The English vocal scores published by Novello are generally very good though covering but small ground. The Novello score of the Christmas oratorio contains a fine analytic preface by Sir George Macfarren.
BIBLIOGRAPHY.--J. N. Forkel, _Über Bach's Leben, Kunst und Kunstwerke_, translated (London, 1820); C. H. Bitter, _John Sebastian Bach_ (Berlin, 1865); Ernest David, _La Vie et les oeuvres de Bach_ (Paris, 1882); P. Spitta, _Johann Sebastian Bach_ (Leipzig, 1873 and 1880); E. Heinrich, _Sebastian Bach's Leben_ (Berlin, 1885); A. Pirro, _L'Esthétique de Jean Sebastian Bach_ (Paris, 1907); and _L'Orgue de Jean Sebastian Bach_ (Paris, 1907); A. Schweitzer, _J. S. Bach: Le Musicien poète_. Spitta's biography superseded everything written before it and has not since been approached. With corrections in the light of Rust's _B. G._ prefaces it contains everything worth knowing about Bach, except the music itself.
(D. F. T.)
[1] Spitta points out that this cannot mean singing in the choir at a service, but making music in church privately.
[2] The same surgeon operated unsuccessfully on both composers.
[3] See the wild conjectures of the editor of the Four Short Masses as to the "displacing" of structure in the _kyrie_ of the G minor Mass (_B.-G., Jahr. viii._ preface, with Rust's answer in the preface to _Jahr. xxiii._).
[4] The object of the _Neue Bachgesellschaft_ is to render the completed results of the first _Bachgesellschaft_ generally accessible by holding frequent Bach festivals and issuing cheap and practical editions. The
## activities of this society, together with the new movement to restore
Bach's vocal music to its place in the Lutheran Church, cannot fail to have a salutary effect on the future of music.
BACH, KARL PHILIPP EMANUEL (1714-1788), German musician and composer, the third son of Johann Sebastian Bach, was born at Weimar on the 14th of March 1714. When he was ten years old he entered the Thomasschule at Leipzig, of which in 1723 his father had become cantor, and continued his education as a student of jurisprudence at the universities of Leipzig (1731) and of Frankfort on the Oder (1735). In 1738 he took his degree, but at once abandoned all prospects of a legal career and determined to devote himself to music. A few months later he obtained an appointment in the service of the crown prince of Prussia, on whose accession in 1740 he became a member of the royal household. He was by this time one of the first clavier-players in Europe, and his compositions, which date from 1731, included about thirty sonatas and concerted pieces for his favourite instrument. His reputation was established by the two sets of sonatas which he dedicated respectively to Frederick the Great (1742) and to the grand duke of Württemberg (1744); in 1746 he was promoted to the post of _Kammermusikus_, and for twenty-two years shared with Karl Heinrich, Graun, Johann Joachim, Quantz and Johann Gottlieb Naumann the continued favour of the king. During his residence at Berlin he wrote a fine setting of the _Magnificat_ (1749), in which he shows more traces than usual of his father's influence, an Easter cantata (1756), several symphonies and concerted works, at least three volumes of songs,--_Geistliche Oden und Lieder_, to words by Gellert (1758), _Oden mit Melodien_ (1762) and _Sing-Oden_ (1766), and a few secular cantatas and other _pièces d'occasion_. But his main work was concentrated on the clavier, for which he composed, at this time, nearly two hundred sonatas and other solos, including the set _mit veränderten Reprisen_ (1760-1768) and a few of those _für Kenner und Liebhaber_. Meanwhile he placed himself in the forefront of European critics by his _Versuch über die wahre Art das Clavier zu spielen_ (first part 1753, second, with the first reprinted, 1762), a systematic and masterly treatise which by 1780 had reached its third edition, and which laid the foundation for the methods of Clementi and Cramer. In 1768 Bach succeeded Georg Philipp Telemann as _Kapellmeister_ at Hamburg, and in consequence of his new office began to turn his attention more towards church music. Next year he produced his oratorio _Die Israeliten in der Wüste_, a composition remarkable not only for its great beauty but for the resemblance of its plan to that of Mendelssohn's _Elijah_, and between 1769 and 1788 added over twenty settings of the Passion, a second oratorio _Der Auferstehung [v.03 p.0131] und Himmelfahrt Jesu_ (1777), and some seventy cantatas, litanies, motets and other liturgical pieces. At the same time his genius for instrumental composition was further stimulated by the career of Haydn, to whom he sent a letter of high appreciation, and the climax of his art was reached in the six volumes of sonatas _für Kenner und Liebhaber_, to which he devoted the best work of his last ten years. He died at Hamburg on the 14th of December 1788.
Through the latter half of the 18th century the reputation of K. P. E. Bach stood very high. Mozart said of him, "He is the father, we are the children"; the best part of Haydn's training was derived from a study of his work; Beethoven expressed for his genius the most cordial admiration and regard. This position he owes mainly to his clavier sonatas, which mark an important epoch in the history of musical form. Lucid in style, delicate and tender in expression, they are even more notable for the freedom and variety of their structural design; they break away altogether from the exact formal antithesis which, with the composers of the Italian school, had hardened into a convention, and substitute the wider and more flexible outline which the great Viennese masters showed to be capable of almost infinite development. The content of his work, though full of invention, lies within a somewhat narrow emotional range, but it is not less sincere in thought than polished and felicitous in phrase. Again he was probably the first composer of eminence who made free use of harmonic colour for its own sake, apart from the movement of contrapuntal parts, and in this way also he takes rank among the most important pioneers of the school of Vienna. His name has now fallen into undue neglect, but no student of music can afford to disregard his _Sonaten für Kenner und Liebhaber_, his oratorio _Die Israeliten in der Wüste_, and the two concertos (in G major and D major) which have been republished by Dr Hugo Riemann.
A list of his voluminous compositions may be found in Eitner's _Quellen Lexikon_, and a critical account of them is given in Bitter's _C. P. E. und W. F. Bach und deren Bruder_ (2 vols., Berlin, 1868), a mine of valuable though ill-arranged information.
Four more of Johann Sebastian Bach's sons grew to manhood and became musicians. The eldest of them, WILHELM FRIEDERMANN BACH (1710-1784) was by common repute the most gifted; a famous organist, a famous improvisor and a complete master of counterpoint. But, unlike the rest of the family, he was a man of idle and dissolute habits, whose career was little more than a series of wasted opportunities. Educated at Leipzig, he was appointed in 1733 organist of the Sophienkirche at Dresden, and in 1747 became musical director of the Liebfrauenkirche at Halle. The latter office he was compelled to resign in 1764, and thenceforward he led a wandering life until, on the 1st of July 1784, he died in great poverty at Berlin. His compositions, very few of which were printed, include many church cantatas and instrumental works, of which the most notable are the fugues, polonaises and fantasias for clavier, and an interesting sestet for strings, clarinet and horns. Several of his manuscripts are preserved in the Royal library at Berlin; and a complete list of his works, so far as they are known, may be found in Eitner's _Quellen Lexikon_.
The fourth son, JOHANN GOTTFRIED BERNHARD BACH (1715-1739) was, like his elder brothers, born at Weimar and educated at Leipzig. From 1735 to 1738 he held successively the organistships at Mühlhausen and Sangerhausen; in 1738 he threw up his appointment and went to study law at Jena; in 1739 he died, aged 24.
JOHANN CHRISTOPH FRIEDRICH BACH (1732-1795), the ninth son, was born at Leipzig, studied at the Thomasschule and the university, and in 1750 was appointed _Kapellmeister_ at Bückeburg. He was an industrious composer, especially of church-music and opera, whose work reflects no discredit on the family name.
JOHANN CHRISTIAN BACH (1735-1782), the eleventh son, was born at Leipzig, and on the death of his father in 1750 became the pupil of his brother Emanuel at Berlin. In 1754 he went to Italy where he studied under Padre Martini, and from 1760 to 1762 held the post of organist at Milan cathedral, for which he wrote two Masses, a _Requiem_, a _Te Deum_ and other works. Having also gained some reputation as a composer of opera, he was in 1762 invited to London and there spent the rest of his life. For twenty years he was the most popular musician in England, his dramatic works, produced at the King's theatre, were received with great cordiality, he was appointed music-master to the queen, and his concerts, given in partnership with Abel at the Hanover Square rooms, soon became the most fashionable of public entertainments. He is of some historical interest as the first composer who preferred the pianoforte to the older keyed-instruments; but his works, though elegant and pleasing, were ephemeral in character and have been deservedly forgotten.
A full account of J. C. Bach's career is given in the fourth volume of Burney's _History of Music_, and a catalogue of his compositions in an article by Max Schwarz, published in the _Sammelbände_ of the _Internationale Musik-Gesellschaft_, Jhrg. ii. p. 401.
(W. H. HA.)
BACHARACH, YAIR (1639-1702), German rabbi, was the author of _[H.]awwoth Ya[=i]r_ (a collection of _Responsa_) and other works. Bacharach was a man of wide culture, and holds an honourable place among the pioneers of the Jewish Renaissance which was inaugurated towards the end of the 18th century.
BACHARACH, a town of Germany, in the Prussian Rhine Province, romantically situated on the left bank of the Rhine, 30 m. above Coblenz on the railway to Mainz. Pop. 2000. There is an interesting church, a basilica, dating from the beginning of the 13th century. There are also ruins of a Gothic church of the 13th and 15th centuries. The ruined castle of Stahleck, crowning the heights above the town, is celebrated in history as the scene of the marriage between Henry, eldest son of Henry the Lion (shortly before the latter's death in 1195) and Agnes of Hohenstaufen, which effected a temporary reconciliation between the houses of Welf and Hohenstaufen. Other ruined castles are those of Fürstenberg and Stahlberg. All three belonged to the counts palatine. The wines of Bacharach were once held in the greatest esteem, and it is still one of the chief markets of the Rhenish wine trade.
BACHAUMONT, LOUIS PETIT DE (1690-1771), French littérateur, was of noble family and was brought up at the court of Versailles. He passed his whole life in Paris as the centre of the _salon_ of Madame Doublet de Persan (1677-1771), where criticism of art and literature took the form of malicious gossip. A sort of register of news was kept in a journal of the _salon_, which dealt largely in scandals and contained accounts of books suppressed by the censor. Bachaumont's name is commonly connected with the first volumes of this register, which was published anonymously under the title _Mémoires secrets pour servir à l'histoire de la République des Lettres_, but his exact share in the authorship is a matter of controversy. It was continued by Pidansat de Mairobert (1707-1779) and others, until it reached 36 volumes (1774-1779). It is of some value as a historical source, especially for prohibited literature. Extracts were published by P. Lacroix in one volume, 1859. An incomplete edition (4 vols.) was undertaken in 1830 by Ravenal.
See, in addition to the memoirs of the time, especially the _Correspondance littéraire_ of Grimm, Diderot, d'Alembert and others (new ed., Paris, 1878, 17 vols.); Ch. Aubertin, _L'Esprit public au XVIII^e siècle_ (Paris, 1872).
BACHE, ALEXANDER DALLAS (1806-1867), American physicist, great-grandson of Benjamin Franklin, was born at Philadelphia on the 19th of July 1806. After graduating at the United States Military Academy at West Point in 1825, he acted as assistant professor there for some time, and as a lieutenant in the corps of engineers he was engaged for a year or two in the erection of coast fortifications. He occupied the post of professor of natural philosophy and chemistry in the University of Pennsylvania in 1828-1841 and in 1842-1843. For the trustees of what in 1848 was to become Girard College, but had not yet been opened, he spent the years 1836-1838 in Europe, examining European systems of education, and on his return published a very valuable report. In 1843, on the death of Professor F. R. Hassler (1770-1843), he was appointed [v.03 p.0132] superintendent of the United States coast survey. He succeeded in impressing Congress with a sense of the great value of this work, and by means of the liberal aid it granted, he carried out a singularly comprehensive plan with great ability and most satisfactory results. By a skilful division of labour, and by the erection of numerous observing stations, the mapping out of the whole coast proceeded simultaneously under the eye of the general director, and in addition a vast mass of magnetic and meteorological observations was collected. He died at Newport, Rhode Island, on the 17th of February 1867.
BACHE, FRANCIS EDWARD (1833-1858), English musical composer, was born in Birmingham on the 14th of September 1833. The pupil of Alfred Mellon for violin and Sterndale Bennett for composition, he afterwards went to Leipzig in 1853 and studied with Hauptmann and Plaidy. Considering the early age at which he died, his compositions are fairly numerous, and the best, a trio for piano and strings, is still held in high esteem. Two operettas, a piano concerto and a number of published pianoforte pieces and songs do little more than show how great was his promise. He died at Birmingham of consumption on the 24th of August 1858. His younger brother, WALTER BACHE (1842-1888), was born in Birmingham on the 19th of June 1842, and followed him to the Leipzig Conservatorium, where he became an excellent pianist. From 1862 to 1865 he studied with Liszt in Rome, and for many years devoted himself to the task of winning popularity for his master's works in England. At his annual concerts in London nearly all Liszt's larger works were heard for the first time in England, and on the occasion of Liszt's last visit to England in 1886, he was entertained by Bache at a memorable reception at the Grosvenor Gallery. Walter Bache was professor of the pianoforte at the Royal Academy of Music for some years before his death, and the foundation of the Liszt scholarship at that institution was mainly due to his efforts. He died in London on the 26th of March 1888.
An interesting memoir of the two brothers, by Miss Constance Bache, appeared in 1901 under the title _Brother Musicians_.
BACHELOR (from Med. Lat. _baccalarius_, with its late and rare variant _baccalaris_--cf. Ital. _baccalare_--through O. Fr. _bacheler_), in the most general sense of the word, a young man. The word, however, as it possesses several widely distinct applications, has passed through many meanings, and its ultimate origin is still involved in a certain amount of obscurity. The derivation from Welsh _bach_, little, is mentioned as "possible" by Skeat (_Etymological Dictionary_), but is "definitely discarded" by the _New English Dictionary_, and that given here is suggested as probable. The word _baccalarius_ was applied to the tenant of a _baccalaria_ (from _baccalia_, a herd of cows, _bacca_ being a Low Latin variant of _vacca_), which was presumably at first a grazing farm and was practically the same as a _vaselleria_, _i.e._ the fief of a sub-vassal. Just, however, as the character and the size of the _baccalaria_ varied in different ages, so the word _baccalarius_ changed its significance; thus in the 8th century it was applied to the _rustici_, whether men or women (_baccalariae_), who worked for the tenant of a _mansus_. Throughout all its meanings the word has retained the idea of subordination suggested in this origin. Thus it came to be applied to various categories of persons as follows.--(1) Ecclesiastics of an inferior grade, _e.g._ young monks or even recently appointed canons (Severtius, _de episcopis Lugdunensibus_, p. 377, in du Cange). (2) Those belonging to the lowest stage of knighthood. Knights bachelors were either poor vassals who could not afford to take the field under their own banner, or knights too young to support the responsibility and dignity of knights bannerets (see KNIGHTHOOD AND CHIVALRY). (3) Those holding the preliminary degree of a university, enabling them to proceed to that of master (_magister_) which alone entitled them to teach. In this sense the word _baccalarius_ or _baccalaureus_ first appears at the university of Paris in the 13th century in the system of degrees established under the auspices of Pope Gregory IX., as applied to scholars still _in statu pupillari_. Thus there were two classes of _baccalarii_: the _baccalarii cursores_, _i.e._ theological candidates passed for admission to the divinity course, and the _baccalarii dispositi_, who, having completed this course, were entitled to proceed to the higher degrees. In modern universities the significance of the degree of bachelor, in relation to the others, varies; _e.g._ at Oxford and Cambridge the bachelor can proceed to his mastership by simply retaining his name on the books and paying certain fees; at other universities a further examination is still necessary. But in no case is the bachelor a full member of the university. The degree of bachelor (of arts, &c.) is borne by women also. (4) The younger or inferior members of a trade gild or city company, otherwise known as "yeomen" (now obsolete). (5) Unmarried men, since these presumably have their fortunes yet to make and are not full citizens. The word bachelor, now confined to men in this connotation, was formerly sometimes used of women also.
Bachelors, in the sense of unmarried men, have in many countries been subjected to penal laws. At Sparta, citizens who remained unmarried after a certain age suffered various penalties. They were not allowed to witness the gymnastic exercises of the maidens; and during winter they were compelled to march naked round the market-place, singing a song composed against themselves and expressing the justice of their punishment. The usual respect of the young to the old was not paid to bachelors (Plut. _Lyc._ 15). At Athens there was no definite legislation on this matter; but certain minor laws are evidently dictated by a spirit akin to the Spartan doctrine (see Schömann, _Gr. Alterth._ i. 548). At Rome, though there appear traces of some earlier legislation in the matter, the first clearly known law is that called the Lex Julia, passed about 18 B.C. It does not appear to have ever come into full operation; and in A.D. 9 it was incorporated with the Lex Papia et Poppaea, the two laws being frequently cited as one, Lex Julia et Papia Poppaea. This law, while restricting marriages between the several classes of the people, laid heavy penalties on unmarried persons, gave certain privileges to those citizens who had several children, and finally imposed lighter penalties on married persons who were childless. Isolated instances of such penalties occur during the middle ages, _e.g._ by a charter of liberties granted by Matilda I., countess of Nevers, to Auxerre in 1223, an annual tax of five _solidi_ is imposed on any man _qui non habet uxorem et est bachelarius_. In Britain there has been no direct legislation bearing on bachelors; but, occasionally, taxes have been made to bear more heavily on them than on others. Instances of this are the act (6 and 7 Will. III.) passed in 1695; the tax on servants, 1785; and the income tax, 1798.
BACHIAN (Dutch _Batjan_), one of the Molucca Islands, in the residency of Ternate, Dutch East Indies, in the Molucca Sea, in 0°13'-0°55' S. and 127°22'-128° E. With its subordinate islands, Mandioli, Tawali and others, it lies west of the southern peninsula of the island of Halmahera or Jilolo, and has an area of 914 sq. m. It is of irregular form, consisting of two distinct mountainous parts, united by a low isthmus, which a slight subsidence would submerge. The island is in part of volcanic formation, and the existence of hot springs points to volcanic activity. There are, however, especially in the southern portion, ancient and non-volcanic rocks. The highest elevation occurs at the south of the island, the mountain of Labua reaching 6950 ft. Coal and other minerals have been discovered. A large portion of the island is richly wooded, and sago, cocoa-nuts and cloves (which are indigenous) are abundantly produced. Bachian is remarkable as the most eastern point on the globe inhabited by any of the _Quadrumana_, a black ape occurring here as in Celebes. The island is very rich in birds and insects. The interior of the island is uninhabited and none of the dwellers on the coast are indigenous. They consist of the Sirani or Christian descendants of the Portuguese, of Malays, with a Papuan element, Galela men from the north of Halmahera, immigrants from Celebes, with some Chinese and Arabs. The total number of inhabitants is about 13,000. The chief village, called Amasing by the inhabitants, but also called Bachian, is situated on the west side of the isthmus. Bachian is the most important island of a group formerly governed by a sultan, but since 1889 by a committee of chiefs under the control of a Dutch _contrôleur_. From 1882 onwards a Batjan company attempted to exploit the island, but [v.03 p.0133] unsuccessfully, owing to a deficient knowledge of the soil and its capabilities and a lack of labourers.
BACK-BOND, or BACK-LETTER, in Scots law, a deed qualifying the terms of another deed, or declaratory of the purposes for which another deed has been granted. Thus an _ex facie_ absolute disposition, qualified by a back-bond expressing the limited nature of the right actually held by the person to whom the disposition is made, would constitute what in England is termed a deed of trust.
BACK-CHOIR, RETRO-CHOIR, a space behind the high altar in the choir of a church, in which there is, or was, a small altar standing back to back with the other.
BACKERGUNJE, or BAKARGANJ, a district of British India in the Dacca division of Eastern Bengal and Assam. It forms part of the joint delta of the Ganges and the Brahmaputra, and its area is 4542 sq. m. The general aspect of the district is that of a flat even country, dotted with clusters of bamboos and betel-nut trees, and intersected by a perfect network of dark-coloured and sluggish streams. There is not a hill or hillock in the whole district, but it derives a certain picturesque beauty from its wide expanses of cultivation, and the greenness and freshness of the vegetation. This is especially conspicuous in the rains, but at no time of the year does the district present a dried or burnt-up appearance. The villages, which are always walled round by groves of bamboos and betel-nut palms, have often a very striking appearance; and Backergunje has many beauties of detail which strike a traveller in passing through the country. The level of the country is low, forming as it does a part of the great Gangetic delta; and the rivers, streams and water-courses are so numerous that it is very difficult to travel except by boat at any season of the year. Every natural hollow is full of water, around the margin of which long grasses, reeds and other aquatic plants grow in the greatest profusion, often making it difficult to say where the land ends and the water begins. Towards the north-west the country is very marshy and nothing is to be seen for miles but tracts of unreclaimed swamps and rice lands, with a few huts scattered here and there and raised on mounds of earth. In the south of the district, along the coast of the Bay of Bengal, lie the forest tracts of the Sundarbans, the habitation of tigers, leopards and other wild beasts.
The principal rivers of the district are the Meghna, the Arial Khan and the Haringhata or Baleswar, with their numerous offshoots. The Meghna represents the accumulated waters of the Brahmaputra and Ganges. It flows along the eastern boundary of the district in a southerly direction for about 100 m. till it debouches into the Bay of Bengal. During the latter part of its course this noble river expands into a large estuary containing many islands, the principal of which is that of Dakshin Shahbazpur. The islands on the sea-front are exposed to devastation by cyclonic storm-waves. The Arial Khan, a branch of the Ganges, enters the district from the north, and flows generally in a south-easterly direction till it falls into the estuary of the Meghna. The main channel of the Arial Khan is about 1700 yds. in width in the dry season, and from 2000 to 3000 yds. in the rains. It receives a number of tributaries, sends off several offshoots, and is navigable throughout the year by native cargo boats of the largest size. The Haringhata, Baleswar, Madhumati and Garai are various local names for the same river in different parts of its course and represent another great offshoot of the Ganges. It enters Backergunje near the north-west corner of the district, whence it forms its western boundary, and runs south, but with great windings in its upper reaches, till it crosses the Sundarbans, and finally falls into the Bay of Bengal by a large and deep estuary, capable of receiving ships of considerable burden. In the whole of its course through the district the river is navigable by native boats of large tonnage, and by large sea-going ships as high up as Morrellganj, in the neighbouring district of Jessore. Among its many tributaries in Backergunje the most important is the Kacha, itself a considerable stream and navigable by large boats all the year round, which flows in a southerly direction for 20 m., when it falls into the Baleswar. Other rivers of minor importance are the Barisal, Bishkhali, Nihalganj, Khairabad, Ghagar, Kumar, &c. All the rivers in the district are subject to tidal action from the Meghna on the north, and from the Bay of Bengal on the south, and nearly all of them are navigable at high tide by country boats of all sizes. The rise of the tide is very considerable in the estuary of the Meghna, and many of the creeks and water-courses in the island of Dakshin Shahbazpur, which are almost dry at ebb tide, contain 18 or 19 ft. of water at the flood. A very strong "bore" or tidal wave runs up the estuary of the Meghna at spring tides, and a singular sound like thunder, known as the "Barisal guns," is often heard far out at sea about the time it is coming in. There are numerous marshes in the district, of great size and depth, and abounding in fish.
The Mussulmans of Backergunje are among the worst of their creed, steeped in ignorance and prejudice, easily excited to violence and murder, very litigious and grossly immoral. On account of an epidemic of murders disarmament had to be enforced in the district. The Faraizis or Puritan sect of Mahommedans are exceedingly numerous in the district. The Buddhist population consists of Maghs or the people of Arakan, who first settled in Backergunje about 1800, and have made themselves very useful in the clearing of the Sundarbans. A gipsy-like tribe called the Bebajias are rather numerous in this district. They live principally in boats, travelling from place to place, profess Mahommedanism, and gain their subsistence by wood-cutting in the Sundarbans, fishing, fortune-telling and trading in trinkets. In 1901 the population was 2,291,752, showing an increase of 6% in the decade.
A number of small trading villages exist throughout the district, and each locality has its periodical fairs for purposes of traffic. The material condition of the people is good. Every inhabitant is a small landholder and cultivates sufficient rice and other necessaries for the support of his family. Owing to this reason, hired labour is very scarce. Rice is the great crop of the district, and three harvests are obtained annually--the _aman_, or winter rice; _aus_, or autumn crop; and _boro_, or spring rice. The climate of Backergunje is one of the healthiest in Eastern Bengal, owing to the strong south-west monsoon, which comes up directly from the Bay of Bengal, and keeps the atmosphere cool; but the heavy rainfall and consequent humidity of the atmosphere, combined with the use of bad water, are fruitful sources of disease. The average annual temperature varies from 78° to 85° F. The thermometer ranges from 62° to 98°.
Barisal, the headquarters station, situated on the west bank of the Barisal river, had a population in 1901 of 18,978. The next largest town is Pirojpur (14,119).
BACKGAMMON, a game played with draughtsmen and a special board, depending on the throw of dice. It is said to have been invented about the 10th century (Strutt). A similar game (_Ludus duodecim scriptorum_, the "twelve-line game") was known to the Romans, and Plato (_Republic_, bk. x.) alludes to a game in which dice were thrown and men were placed after due consideration. The etymology of the word "backgammon" is disputed; it is probably Saxon--_baec_, back, _gamen_, game; _i.e._ a game in which the players are liable to be sent back. Other derivations are, Dan. _bakke_, tray, _gammen_, game (Wedgwood); and Welsh _bach_, little, _cammaun_, battle (Henry). Chaucer alludes to a game of "tables," played with three dice, in which "men" were moved from the opponent's "tables," the game (_ludus Anglicorum_) being described in the Harleian MSS. (1527). The French name for backgammon is _trictrac_, imitative of the rattle of the dice.
Backgammon is played by two persons. The "board" (see diagram) is divided into four "tables," each table being marked with six "points" coloured differently. The inner and outer tables are separated from each other by a projecting _bar_. The board (in the ordinary form of the game) is furnished with fifteen white and fifteen black men, "set" or arranged as in the diagram. It is usual to make the inner table the one nearest to the light. Two dice-boxes are required, one for each player, and a pair of dice, which are used by both players. The dice are marked with numbers on their six sides, from one to six, number one being called, "ace"; two, "deuce": three, "trey." Formerly the [v.03 p.0134] four was called "quatre" (pronounced "cater"); the five, "cinque" (pronounced either "sank" or "sink"); and the six, "six" (size).
For the right to start each player throws one or two dice; the one who throws the higher number has the right of playing first; and he may either adopt the numbers thrown or he may throw again, using both dice.
[Illustration]
The men are moved on from point to point, according to the throws of the dice made by the players alternately. White moves from black's inner table to black's outer, and from this to white's outer table, and so on to white's inner table; and all black's moves must be in the contrary direction. A player may move any of his men a number of points corresponding to the numbers thrown by him, provided the point to which the move would bring him is not _blocked_ by two or more of his adversary's men being on it. The whole throw may be taken with one man, or two men maybe moved, one the exact number of points on one die, the other the number on the other die. If doublets are thrown (_e.g._ two sixes), four moves of that number (_e.g._ four moves of six points) may be made, either all by one man or separately by more. Thus, suppose white throws five, six, he may move one of his men from the left-hand corner of the black's inner table to the left-hand corner of black's outer table for six; he may, again, move the same man five points farther on, when his move is completed; or he may move any other man five points. But white cannot move a man for five from the black's ace-point, because the six-point in that table is blocked. Any part of the throw which cannot be moved is of no effect, but it is compulsory for a player to move the whole throw unless blocked. Thus if the men were differently placed, and white could move a six, and having done so could not move a five, his move is completed. If, however, by moving the five first, he can afterwards move a six, he must make the move in that manner.
When a player so moves as to place two men on the same point, he is said to "make a point."
When there is only a single man on a point, it is called a "blot." When a blot is left, the man there may be taken up (technically the blot may be "hit") by the adversary if he throws a number which will enable him to place a man on that point. The man hit is placed on the bar, and has to begin again by entering the adversary's home table again at the next throw should it result in a number that corresponds to an unblocked point. The points in the home tables count for this purpose as 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, beginning from the ace-point. A player is not allowed to move any other man while he has one to enter. It is, therefore, an advantage to have made all the points in your own board, so that your adversary, if you take a man up, cannot enter; and you can then continue throwing until a point is opened.
The game proceeds until one of the players gets all his men into his inner table or _home_. Then he begins to take his men off the board, or to _bear_ them, _i.e._ to remove a man from any point that corresponds in number with his throw. If such a point is unoccupied, a move must be made, if there is room for it, and a move may be taken, instead of bearing a man, at any time; but when six is empty, if six is thrown a man may be borne from five and so on. If, after a player has commenced throwing off his men, he should be hit on a blot, he must enter on his adversary's inner table and must bring the man taken up into his own inner table before he can bear further.
Whoever first takes off all his men wins the game:--a single game (a "hit") if his adversary has begun bearing; a double game (a "gammon") if the adversary has not borne a man; and a triple game (a "backgammon") if, at the time the winner bears his last man, his adversary, not having borne a man, has one in the winner's inner table, or has a man up. When a series of games is played, the winner of a hit has the first throw in the succeeding game; but if a gammon is won, the players each throw a single die to determine the first move of the next game.
In order to play backgammon well, it is necessary to know all the chances on two dice and to apply them in various ways. The number of different throws that can be made is thirty-six. By taking all the combinations of these throws which include given numbers, it is easily discovered where blots may be left with the least probability of being hit. For example, to find the chance of being hit where a blot can only be taken up by an ace, the adversary may throw two aces, or ace in combination with any other number up to six, and he may throw each of these in two different ways, so that there are in all eleven ways in which an ace may be thrown. This, deducted from thirty-six (the total number of throws), leaves twenty-five; so that it is 25 to 11 against being hit on an ace. It is very important to bear in mind the chance of being hit on any number. The following table gives the odds against being hit on any number within the reach of one or two dice: -
It is 25 to 11, or about 9 to 4, against being hit on 1 " 24 " 12, or 2 " 1, " 2 " 22 " 14, or about 3 " 2, " 3 " 21 " 15, or 7 " 5, " 4 " 21 " 15, " 7 " 5, " 5 " 19 " 17, " 9½ " 8½, " 6 " 30 " 6, " 5 " 1, " 7 " 30 " 6, " 5 " 1, " 8 " 31 " 5, or about 6 " 1, " 9 " 33 " 3, or 11 " 1, " 10 " 34 " 2, " 17 " 1, " 11 " 33 " 3, " 11 " 1, " 12
The table shows that if a blot must be left within the reach of one die, the nearer it is left to the adversary's man the less probability there is of its being hit. Also, that it is long odds against being hit on a blot which is only to be reached with double dice, and that, in that case (on any number from 7 to 11), the farther off the blot is, the less chance there is of its being hit.
The table assumes that the board is open for every possible throw. If part of the throw is blocked by an intervening point being held by adverse men, the chance of being hit is less.
Two principles, then, have to be considered in moving the men:-- (1) To make points where there is the best chance of obstructing the opponent. (2) When obliged to leave blots, to choose the position in which they are least likely to be hit.
The best points to secure are the five-point in your own inner table and the five-point in your adversary's inner table. The next best is your own bar-point; and the next best the four in your own inner table.
The best move for some throws at the commencement of a game is as follows:--Aces (the best of all throws), move two on your bar-point and two on your five-point. This throw is often given to inferior players by way of odds.
Ace, trey: make the five-point in your inner table.
Ace, six: make your bar-point.
Deuces: move two on the four-point in your inner table, and two on the trey-point in your opponent's inner table.
Deuce, four: make the four-point in your own table.
Threes: play two on the five-point in your inner table, and two on the four-point of your adversary's inner table, or make your bar-point.
Trey, five: make the trey-point in your own table.
Trey, six: bring a man from your adversary's ace-point as far as he will go.
Fours: move on two on the five-point in your adversary's inner table, and two from the five in his outer table.
Four, five and four, six: carry a man from your adversary's ace-point as far as he will go.
Fives: move two men from the five in your adversary's outer table to the trey-point in your inner table.
Five, six: move a man from your adversary's ace-point as far as he will go.
Sixes (the second-best throw): move two on your adversary's bar-point and two on your own bar-point.
In carrying the men home carry the most distant man to your adversary's bar-point, to the six-point in your outer table, and then to the six-point in your inner table. By following this rule as nearly [v.03 p.0135] as the throws admit, you will carry the men to your inner table in the fewest number of throws.
Avoid carrying many men upon the trey or deuce-point in your own tables, as these men are out of play.
Whenever you have taken up two of your adversary's men, and two or more points made in your inner table, spread your other men in the hope of making another point in your tables, and of hitting the man your adversary enters.
Always take up a man if the blot you leave in making the move can only be hit with double dice, but if you already have two of your opponent's men in your tables it is unwise to take up a third.
In entering a man which it is to your adversary's advantage to hit, leave the blot upon the lowest point you can, _e.g._ ace-point in preference to deuce-point.
When your adversary is bearing his men, and you have two men in his table, say, on his ace-point, and several men in the outer table, it is to your advantage to leave one man on the ace-point, because it prevents his bearing his men to the greatest advantage, and gives you the chance of his leaving a blot. But if you find that you can probably save the gammon by bringing both your men out of his table, do not wait for a blot. Eight points is the average throw.
The laws of backgammon (as given by Hoyle) are as follows:--
1. When a man is touched by the caster it must be played if possible; if impossible no penalty. 2. A man is not played till it is placed upon a point and quitted. 3. If a player omits a man from the board there is no penalty. 4. If he bears any number of men before he has entered a man taken up, men so borne must be entered again. 5. If he has mistaken his throw and played it, and his adversary has thrown, it is not in the choice of either of the players to alter it, unless they both agree to do so. 6. If one or both dice are "cocked," _i.e._ do not lie fairly and squarely on the table, a fresh throw is imperative.
_Russian Backgammon_ varies from the above game in that the men, instead of being set as in the diagram, are entered in the same table by throws of the dice, and both players move in the same direction round to the opposite table. There are various rules for this game. By some a player is not obliged to enter all his men before he moves any; he can take up blots at any time on entering, but while he has a man up, he must enter it before entering any more or moving any of those already entered. If he cannot enter the man that is up, he loses the benefit of the throw.
A player who throws doublets must play or enter not only the number thrown, but also doublets of the number corresponding to the opposite side of the dice; thus, if he throws sixes, he must first enter or move the sixes, as the case may be, and then aces, and he also has another throw. Some rules allow him to play either doublets first, but he must always complete one set before playing the other. If a player cannot play the whole of his throw, his adversary is sometimes allowed to play the unplayed portion, in which cases the caster is sometimes allowed to come in and complete his moves, if he can, and in the event of his having thrown deuce-ace or doublets to throw again. If he throws doublets a second time, he moves and throws again, and so on. The privilege is sometimes restricted by not allowing this advantage to the first doublets thrown by each player. It is sometimes extended by allowing the thrower of the deuce-ace to choose any doublets he likes on the opposite side of the dice, and to throw again. The restriction with regard to the first doublets thrown does not apply to deuce-ace, nor does throwing it remove the restriction with regard to first doublets. A player must first be able to complete the doublets thrown. If the player cannot move the whole throw he cannot take the corresponding doublets, and he is not allowed another throw if he cannot move all the points to which he is entitled.
BACKHUYSEN, or BAKHUISEN, LUDOLF (1631-1708), Dutch painter, was born at Emden, in Hanover. He was brought up as a merchant at Amsterdam, but early discovered so strong a genius for painting that he relinquished business and devoted himself to art. He studied first under Allart van Everdingen and then under Hendrik Dubbels, two eminent masters of the time, and soon became celebrated for his sea-pieces. He was an ardent student of nature, and frequently exposed himself on the sea in an open boat in order to study the effects of tempests. His compositions, which are very numerous, are nearly all variations of one subject, and in a style peculiarly his own, marked by intense realism or faithful imitation of nature. In his later years Backhuysen employed his time in etching and calligraphy. He died in Amsterdam on the 17th of November 1708.
BACKNANG, a town of Germany, in the kingdom of Württemberg, 19 m. by rail N.E. from Stuttgart. Pop. (1900) 7650. It has an interesting church, dating from the 12th century, and notable tanneries and leather factories, woollen and cloth mills. In 1325 Backnang was ceded to Württemberg by Baden. In the vicinity is the Wilhelmsheim sanatorium for consumptives.
BACKSCRATCHER, a long slender rod of wood, whalebone, tortoiseshell, horn or cane, with a carved human hand, usually of ivory, mounted at the extremity. Its name suggests the primary use of the implement, but little is known of its history, and it was unquestionably also employed as a kind of rake to keep in order the huge "heads" of powdered hair worn by ladies during a considerable portion of the 18th and the early part of the 19th centuries. The backscratcher varies in length from 12 to 20 in., and the more elaborate examples, which were occasionally hung from the waist, are silver-mounted, and in rare instances the ivory fingers bear carved rings. The hand is sometimes outstretched, and sometimes the fingers are flexed; the modelling is frequently good, the fingers delicately formed and the nails well defined. As a rule the rod is finished off with a knob. The hand was now and again replaced by a rake or a bird's claw. The hand was indifferently dexter or sinister, but the Chinese variety usually bears a right hand. Like most of the obsolete appliances of daily life, the backscratcher, or scratch-back, as it is sometimes called, has become scarce, and it is one of the innumerable objects which attract the attention of the modern collector.
BACK'S RIVER (_Thlewechodyeth_, or "Great Fish"), a river in Mackenzie and Keewatin districts, Canada, rising in Sussex lake, a small body of water in 108° 20' W. and 64° 25' N., and flowing with a very tortuous course N.E. to an inlet of the Arctic Ocean, passing through several large lake-expansions--Pelly, Carry, MacDougall and Franklin. Like the Coppermine, the only other large river of this part of Canada, it is rendered unnavigable by a succession of rapids and rocks. It was discovered and explored by Sir George Back in 1834. Its total length is 560 m.
BACKWARDATION, or, as it is more often called for brevity, BACK, a technical term employed on the London Stock Exchange to express the amount charged for the loan of stock from one account to the other, and paid to the purchaser by the seller on a bear account (see ACCOUNT) in order to allow the seller to defer the delivery of the stock. The seller, having sold for delivery on a certain date, stocks or shares which probably he does not possess, in the hope that he may be able, before the day fixed for delivery, to buy them at a cheaper price and so earn a profit, finds on settling-day that the prices have not gone down according to his expectation, and therefore pays the purchaser an agreed amount of interest (_backwardation_) for the privilege of deferring the delivery, either in order to procure the stock, or else in the hope that there will be a shrinkage in the price which will enable him to gain a profit. (See also STOCK EXCHANGE).
BACON, FRANCIS (BARON VERULAM, VISCOUNT ST ALBANS) (1561-1626), English philosopher, statesman and essayist, was born at York House in the Strand, London, on the 22nd of January 1560/1. He was the youngest son of Sir Nicholas Bacon (_q.v._). His mother, the second wife of Sir Nicholas, was a daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke, formerly tutor to Edward VI. She was a woman of considerable culture, well skilled in the classical studies of the period, and a warm adherent of the Reformed or Puritan Church. Very little is known of Bacon's early life and education. His health being then, as always, extremely delicate, he probably received much of his instruction at home. In April 1573 he was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge, where for three years he resided with his brother Anthony. At Cambridge he applied himself diligently to the several sciences as then taught, and came to the conclusion that the methods employed and the results attained were alike erroneous. Although he preserved a reverence for Aristotle (of whom, however, he seems to have known but little), he learned to despise the current Aristotelian philosophy. It yielded no fruit, was serviceable only for disputation, and the end it proposed to itself was a mistaken one. Philosophy must be taught its true purpose, and for this purpose a new method must be devised. With the [v.03 p.0136] first germs of this great conception in his mind, Bacon left the university.
On the 27th of June 1576 he and his brother Anthony were entered _de societate magistrorum_ at Gray's Inn, and a few months later he was sent abroad with Sir Amyas Paulet, the English ambassador at Paris. The disturbed state of government and society in France at that time afforded him valuable political instruction. It was formerly supposed that certain _Notes on the State of Christendom_, usually printed in his works, contain the results of his observations, but Spedding has shown that there is no reason for ascribing these _Notes_ to him, and that they may be attributed with more probability to one of his brother Anthony's correspondents.
The sudden death of his father in February 1578/9 necessitated Bacon's return to England, and exercised a very serious influence on his fortunes. A considerable sum of money had been laid up by Sir Nicholas for the purchase of an estate for his youngest son, the only one otherwise unprovided for. Owing to his sudden death, this intention was not carried out, and a fifth only of the money descended to Francis. This was one of the gravest misfortunes of his life; he started with insufficient means, acquired a habit of borrowing and was never afterwards out of debt. As it had become necessary that he should adopt some profession, he selected that of law, and took up his residence at Gray's Inn in 1579.
In the fragment _De Interpretation Naturae Prooemium_ (written probably about 1603) Bacon analyses his own mental character and lays before us the objects he had in view when he entered on public life. If his opening sentence, "Ego cum me ad utilitates humanas natum existimarem" ("since I thought myself born to be of advantage to mankind"), seems at first sight a little arrogant, it must be remembered that it is the arrogance of Aristotle's [Greek: megalopsuchos],[1] who thinks himself worthy of great things, and is worthy. The ideal of production of good to the human race through the discovery of truth, was combined in him with the practical desire to be of service to his country. He purposed, therefore, to obtain, if possible, some honourable post in the state which would give him the means of realizing these projects, and would enable him to do somewhat for the church, the third of the objects whose good he had at heart. The constant striving after these three ends is the key to Bacon's life. His qualifications for accomplishing the task were not small. His intellect was far-seeing and acute, quick and yet cautious, meditative, methodical and free from prejudice. If we add to this account that he seems to have been of an unusually amiable disposition we have a fairly complete picture of his mental character at this critical period of his life.
In 1580 he appears to have taken the first step in his career by applying, through his uncle, Burghley, the lord treasurer, for some post at court. His suit, though well received by the queen, was unsuccessful; the
## particulars are totally unknown. For two years after this disappointment he
worked quietly at Gray's Inn, and in 1582 was admitted an outer barrister. In 1584 he took his seat in parliament for Melcombe in Dorsetshire, but the notes for the session do not disclose what reputation he gained. About the same time he made another application to Burghley, apparently with a view to expediting his progress at the bar. His uncle, who appears to have "taken his zeal for ambition," wrote him a severe letter, taking him to task for arrogance and pride, qualities which Bacon vehemently disclaimed. As his advancement at the bar was unusually rapid, his uncle's influence may have been exerted in his behalf. In 1589 he received the first substantial piece of patronage from his powerful kinsman, the reversion of the clerkship of the Star Chamber. The office was worth about £1600 a year; but it did not become vacant for nearly twenty years. A considerable period of his life thus slipped away, and his affairs had not prospered. He had written on the condition of parties in the church; he had set down his thoughts on philosophical reform in the lost tract, _Temporis Partus Maximus_; but he had failed in obtaining the position which he looked upon as an indispensable condition of success. A long and eloquent letter to Burghley[2] throws additional light upon his character, and gives a hint as to the cause of his uncle's slackness in promoting him.
Some time before this, perhaps as early as 1588, Bacon appears to have become acquainted with the earl of Essex, Elizabeth's favourite. At the close of 1591 he was acting as the earl's confidential adviser, and exerted himself, together with his brother Anthony, diligently in the earl's service. In February 1593 parliament was called, and Bacon took his seat for Middlesex. The special occasion for which the House had been summoned was the discovery of one of the numerous popish plots that distracted Elizabeth's reign.
As Bacon's conduct in this emergency seriously affected his fortunes and has been much misunderstood, it is necessary to state, as briefly as possible, the whole facts of the case. The House having been duly informed of the state necessities, assented to a double subsidy and appointed a committee to draw up the requisite articles. Before this was completed, a message arrived from the House of Lords requesting a conference, which was granted. The committee of the Commons were then informed that the crisis demanded a triple subsidy to be collected in a shorter time than usual, that the Lords could not assent to less than this, and that they desired to confer on the matter. This proposal of the Lords to discuss supply infringed upon the privileges of the Commons; accordingly, when the report of committee was read to the Lower House, Bacon spoke against the proposed conference, pointing out at the same time that a communication from the Lords might be received, but that the actual deliberation on it must be taken by themselves alone. His motion, after some delay, was carried and the conference was rejected. The Lords upon this lowered their demands, and desired merely to make a communication, which, being legitimate, was at once assented to. The House had then before them the proposal for a triple subsidy, to be collected in three, or, as the motion ultimately was shaped, in four years, instead of in six, as the ordinary custom would have been. Bacon, who approved of the increased subsidy, was opposed to the short period in which it was proposed to raise it. He suggested that it would be difficult or impossible for the people to meet such heavy demands, that discontent and trouble would arise, and that the better method of procedure was to raise money by levy or imposition. His motion appears to have received no support, and the four years' subsidy was passed unanimously. Bacon, as it turned out, had been mistaken in thinking that the country would be unable to meet the increased taxation, and his conduct, though prompted by a pure desire to be of service to the queen, gave deep and well-nigh ineradicable offence. He was accused [v.03 p.0137] of seeking popularity, and was for a time excluded from the court. His letter to Burghley,[3] who had told him of the queen's displeasure with his speech, offers no apology for what he had said, but expresses regret that his motives should have been misunderstood. He soon felt that the queen's anger was not to be appeased by such a justification. The attorney-generalship had fallen vacant and Bacon became a candidate for the office, his most formidable rival being his life-long antagonist, Edward Coke, who was then solicitor. Essex warmly espoused Bacon's cause and earnestly pressed his claims upon the queen; but his impetuous, pettish pleading tended to retard the cause. Burghley, on the other hand, in no way promoted his nephew's interest; he would recommend him for the solicitorship, but not for the attorney-generalship; and it is not improbable that Sir Robert Cecil secretly used his influence against his cousin. The queen delayed the appointment, and Bacon's fortunes, as they then stood, could ill brook delay. He was harassed with debt and at times so disheartened that he contemplated retirement from public life. In March 1594 it was at last understood that Coke was to be attorney-general. Essex, though bitterly mortified, at once threw all his energies into the endeavour to procure for Bacon the solicitorship; but in this case also, his method of dealing, which was wholly opposed to Bacon's advice,[4] seemed to irritate the queen. The old offence was not yet forgiven, and after a tedious delay, the office was given, in October 1595, to Serjeant Thomas Fleming. Burghley and Sir John Puckering seem to have assisted Bacon honestly, if not over-warmly, in this second application; but the conduct of Cecil had roused suspicions which were not perhaps without foundation. Essex, to compensate in some degree for Bacon's disappointment, insisted on presenting him with a piece of land, worth about £1800, and situated probably near Twickenham Park. Nor did his kindness cease there; before sailing on the expedition to Cadiz, in the beginning of 1596, he addressed letters to Buckhurst, Fortescue and Egerton, earnestly requesting them to use their influence towards procuring for Bacon the vacant office of master of the rolls. Before anything came of this application, the Cadiz expedition had resulted in a brilliant success, and Essex became the idol of the army and the people. Bacon saw clearly that such a reputation would assuredly alienate the affections of the queen, who loved not to have a subject too powerful or too popular. He therefore addressed an eloquent and imploring letter to the earl, pointing out the dangers of his position and urging upon him what he judged to be the only safe course of action, to seek and secure the favour of the queen alone; above all things dissuading him from the appearance of military popularity. His advice, however, was unpalatable and proved ineffectual. The earl still continued his usual course of dealing with the queen, depending solely upon her supposed affection for him, and insanely jealous of any other whom she might seem to favour. His unskilful and unlucky management of the sea expedition to Ferrol and the Azores in no way lowered his popularity with the people, but undoubtedly weakened his influence with the queen.
Bacon's affairs in the meantime had not been prospering. He had increased his reputation by the publication in 1597 of his _Essays_, along with which were the _Colours of Good and Evil_ and the _Meditationes Sacrae_; but his private fortunes were in a bad condition. No public office apparently could be found for him; a scheme for retrieving his position by a marriage with the wealthy widow, Lady Elizabeth Hatton, failed, and in 1598 he was arrested for debt. He seems, however, to have been growing in favour with the queen. Some years previously (perhaps about 1594), he had begun to be employed by her in crown affairs, and he gradually acquired the standing of one of the learned counsel, though he had no commission or warrant, and received no salary. At the same time he was no longer on the former friendly terms with Essex, a certain estrangement having sprung up between them, caused no doubt by the earl's dislike of his friend's advice. The earl's affairs were then at a somewhat critical stage, and as our judgment upon a most important episode in Bacon's life depends upon our knowledge of the events of the ensuing year, it will be requisite to enter somewhat minutely into proceedings with which Bacon himself had nothing to do.
Ireland was then in a rebellious and discontented condition, and it was difficult for the English government to decide either on a definite course of policy with regard to it, or on a leader by whom that policy might be carried out. A violent quarrel took place between the queen and Essex, who for some months retired from court and refused to be reconciled. At last he came forth from his seclusion, and it was soon understood that he was in person to undertake the subjugation of the rebels in Ireland, with a larger force than had ever before been sent into that country. Into the obscure details of this unhappy campaign it is unnecessary to enter; one fact stands out clearly, that Essex endeavoured to carry out a treasonable design. His jealousy and ill-temper had been so roused that the only course open to him seemed to be the obtaining a powerful military force, the possession of which would compel the queen to reinstate him in her favour. Whether or not this plan was in contemplation before he undertook the Irish expedition is not evident, though even outsiders at that time entertained some suspicions, but there can be no doubt of the treasonable character of the negotiations carried on in Ireland. His plans, probably not very definite, were disturbed by an imperative message from the queen, ordering him not to return to England without her permission. He at once set off, and, trusting apparently to her affection for him, presented himself suddenly before her. He was, for the moment, received kindly, but was soon afterwards ordered to keep his chamber, and was then given into the custody of the lord keeper at York House, where he remained till March 1600. His great popularity, and the general ignorance of the reasons for his imprisonment, stirred up a strong feeling against the queen, who was reported to be influenced by Bacon, and such indignation was raised against the latter that his friends feared his life would be in danger. It was at last felt necessary that the queen should in some way vindicate her proceedings, and this she at first did, contrary to Bacon's advice, by a declaration from the Star Chamber. This, however, gave little or no satisfaction, and it was found expedient to do what Bacon had always recommended, to have a fair trial, yet not one in which the sentence must needs be damaging to the earl. The trial accordingly took place before a body of her majesty's councillors, and Bacon had a subordinate and unimportant part in the accusation. Essex does not seem to have been at all hurt by his action in this matter, and shortly after his release they were again on friendly terms, Bacon drawing up letters as if to or from the earl with the design of having them brought before the queen. But Bacon did not know the true character of the transactions in which Essex had been engaged. The latter had been released from all custody in August, but in the meantime he had been busily engaged in treasonable correspondence with James of Scotland, and was counting on the Irish army under his ally, Charles Blount, Baron Mountjoy (afterwards earl of Devonshire), the new deputy. But Mountjoy had apparently come to see how useless the attempt would be to force upon the queen a settlement of the succession and declined to go farther in the matter. Essex was thus thrown upon his own resources, and his anger against the queen being roused afresh by the refusal to renew his monopoly of sweet wines, he formed the desperate project of seizing her person and compelling her to dismiss from her council his enemies Raleigh, Cobham, and Cecil. As some pretext, he intended to affirm that his life was in danger from these men, who were in league with the Spaniards. The plot was forced on prematurely by the suspicions excited at court, and the rash attempt to rouse the city of London (8th of February 1601), proved a complete _fiasco_. The leaders were arrested that night and thrown into prison. Although the actual rising might have appeared a mere outburst of frantic passion, the private examinations of the most prominent [v.03 p.0138] conspirators disclosed to the government a plot so widely spread, and involving so many of the highest in the land, that it would have been perilous to have pressed home accusations against all who might be implicated. Essex was tried along with the young earl of Southampton, and Bacon, as one of her majesty's counsel, was present on the occasion. Coke, who was principal spokesman, managed the case with great want of skill, incessantly allowing the thread of the evidence to escape, and giving the prisoners opportunity to indulge in irrelevant justifications and protestations which were not ineffectual in distracting attention from the real question at issue. On the first opportunity Bacon rose and briefly pointed out that the earl's plea of having done nothing save what was absolutely necessary to defend his life from the machinations of his enemies was weak and worthless, inasmuch as these enemies were purely imaginary; and he compared his case to that of Peisistratus, who had made use of a somewhat similar stratagem to cloak his real designs upon the city of Athens. He was thereupon interrupted by the earl, who proceeded to defend himself, by declaring that in one of the letters drawn up by Bacon, and purporting to be from the earl to Anthony Bacon, the existence of these rumours, and the dangers to be apprehended from them, had been admitted; and he continued, "If these reasons were then just and true, not counterfeit, how can it be that now my pretences are false and injurious?" To this Bacon replied, that "the letters, if they were there, would not blush to be seen for anything contained in them, and that he had spent more time in vain in studying how to make the earl a good servant to the queen than he had done in any thing else." It seems to be forgotten in the general accounts of this matter, not only that Bacon's letters bear out what he said, but that the earl's excuses were false. A second time Bacon was compelled to interfere in the course of the trial, and to recall to the minds of those present the real question at issue. He animadverted strongly upon the puerile nature of the defence, and in answer to a remark by Essex, that if he had wished to stir up a rebellion he would have had a larger company with him, pointed out that his dependence was upon the people of London, and compared his attempt to that of the duke of Guise at Paris. To this the earl made little or no reply. Bacon's use of this illustration and of the former one of Peisistratus, has been much commented on, and in general it seems to have been thought that had it not been for his speeches Essex might have escaped, or, at all events, have been afterwards pardoned. But this view of the matter depends on the supposition that Essex was guilty only of a rash outbreak.[5] That this was not the case was well known to the queen and her council. Unfortunately, prudential motives hindered the publication of the whole evidence; the people, consequently, were still ignorant of the magnitude of the crime, and, till recently, biographers of Bacon have been in a like ignorance.[6] The earl himself, before execution, confessed his guilt and the thorough justice of his sentence, while, with singular lack of magnanimity, he incriminated several against whom accusations had not been brought, among others his sister Lady Rich. After his execution it was thought necessary that some account of the facts should be drawn up and circulated, in order to remove the prejudice against the queen's action in the matter. This was entrusted to Bacon, who drew up a _Declaration of the Practices and Treasons attempted and committed by Robert, late Earl of Essex_, his first draft being extensively altered and corrected by the queen and council. Nothing is known with certainty of the reception given to this official explanation, but the ill-feeling against Bacon was not wholly removed, and some years later, in 1604, he published, in the form of a letter to Mountjoy, an _Apology_ for his action in the case. This _Apology_ gives a most fair and temperate history of the relations between Bacon and Essex, shows how the prudent counsel of the one had been rejected by the other, and brings out very clearly what we conceive to be the true explanation of the matter. Everything that Bacon could do was done by him, until the real nature of Essex's design was made apparent, and then, as he had repeatedly told the earl, his devotion and respect were for the queen and state, not for any subject; friendship could never take rank above loyalty. Those who blame Bacon must acquit Essex of all wrong-doing.
Bacon's private fortunes, during the period after the death of Essex, were not in a flourishing condition. He had obtained a grant of £1200 from the fines imposed on Catesby, one of the conspirators, but his debts were sufficient to swallow up this and much more. And, though he was trusted by Elizabeth, and on good terms with her, he seems to have seen that he had no chance of advancement. But her death in 1603, followed by the undisputed succession of James, gave him new hopes. He used every means in his power to bring himself under James's notice, writing to all his friends at the Scottish court and to the king himself. He managed to obtain a personal interview with the king, but does not seem to have been much satisfied with it. In fact, while the king confirmed in their situations those who had held crown offices under Elizabeth, Bacon, not holding his post by warrant, was practically omitted. He was, however, continued, by special order of the king, as learned counsel extraordinary, but little or no law business appears to have been entrusted to him. He procured, through his cousin Cecil, the dignity of knighthood, which, contrary to his inclination, he received along with about 300 others, on the 23rd of July 1603. Between this time and the opening of James's first parliament he was engaged in literary work, and sent to the king two pamphlets--one on the Union, the other on measures for the pacification of the church. Shortly after he published his _Apology_. In March 1604 parliament met, and during their short session Bacon's hands seem to have been full of work. It was a busy and stirring time, and events occurred during it which carried within them the seeds of much future dissension. Prerogative and privilege came more than once into collision, the abuses of purveyance and wardship were made matters of conference, though the thorough discussion of them was deferred to a succeeding session; while James's temper was irritated by the objections brought against his favourite scheme of the Union, and by the attitude taken up by the House with regard to religious affairs. The records are barely full enough to enable us to judge of the share taken by Bacon in these discussions; his name generally appears as the reporter of the committees on special subjects. We can occasionally, however, discern traces of his tact and remarkable prudence; and, on the whole, his attitude, particularly with regard to the Union question, recommended him to James. He was shortly afterwards formally installed as learned counsel, receiving the salary of £40, and at the same time a pension of £60 yearly. He was also appointed one of the commission to treat of the conditions necessary for the Union; and the admirable manner in which the duties of that body were discharged must be attributed mainly to his influence and his complete mastery of the subject. During the recess he published his _Advancement of Learning_, dedicated to the king.
He was now brought into relations with James, and his prospects began to improve. It is important for us to know what were his ideas upon government, upon parliaments, prerogative, and so forth, since a knowledge of this will clear up much that would seem inexplicable in his life. It seems quite evident[7] that Bacon, from position, early training and, one might almost think, natural inclination, held as his ideal of government the Elizabethan system. The king was the supreme power, the centre of law and justice, and his prerogative must not be infringed. Parliament was merely a body called to consult with the king on emergencies (_circa ardua regni_) and to grant supplies. King and parliament together make up the state, but the former is first in nature and importance. The duty of a statesman was, therefore, to carry out the royal will in as prudent a manner as possible; he was the servant of the king, and stood or fell according to his pleasure. He was not singular in his opinions and he was undoubtedly sincere; and it is only [v.03 p.0139] by keeping them constantly in mind that we can understand his after relations with the king.
In the second parliament there was not so much scope for the exercise of his powers. The Gunpowder Plot had aroused in the Commons warmer feelings towards the king; they passed severe laws against recusants, and granted a triple subsidy. At the same time they continued the collection of the grievances concerning which they were to move. In the course of this session Bacon married Alice Barnham "the alderman's daughter, an handsome maiden, to my liking," of whom he had written some years before to his cousin Cecil. Little or nothing is known of their married life.
The third parliament was chiefly occupied with the commercial and legal questions rising out of the proposed Union, in particular, with the dispute as to the naturalization of the _Post Nati_. Bacon argued ably in favour of this measure, but the general feeling was against it. The House would only pass a bill abolishing hostile laws between the kingdoms; but the case of the _Post Nati_, being brought before the law courts, was settled as the king wished. Bacon's services were rewarded in June 1607 by the office of solicitor.[8] Several years passed before he gained another step. Meantime, though circumstances had thrown him too much into active life, he had not forgotten his cherished project of reorganizing natural science. A survey of the ground had been made in the _Advancement_, and some short pieces not published at the time were probably written in the subsequent two or three years. Towards the close of 1607 he sent to his friends a small tract, entitled _Cogitata et Visa_, probably the first draft of what we have under that title. In 1609 he wrote the noble panegyric, _In felicem memoriam Elizabethae_, and the curiously learned and ingenious work, _De Sapientia Veterum_; and completed what seems to have been the _Redargutio Philosophiarum_, or treatise on the "idols of the theatre."
In 1610 the famous fourth parliament of James met. Prerogative, despite Bacon's advice and efforts, clashed more than once with liberty; Salisbury's bold schemes for relieving the embarrassment caused by the reckless extravagance of the king proved abortive, and the House was dissolved in February 1611. Bacon took a considerable share in the debates, consistently upheld the prerogative, and seemed yet to possess the confidence of the Commons. The death of Salisbury, occurring soon after, opened a position in which Bacon thought his great political skill and sagacity might be made more immediately available for the king's service. How far he directly offered himself for the post of secretary is uncertain, but we know that his hopes were disappointed, the king himself undertaking the duties of the office. About the same time he made two ineffectual applications for the mastership of the wards; the first, on Salisbury's death, when it was given to Sir George Carey; the second, on the death of Carey. It is somewhat hard to understand why so little favour was shown by the king to one who had proved himself able and willing to do good service, and who, in spite of his disappointments, still continued zealously to offer advice and assistance. At last in 1613, a fair opportunity for promotion occurred. The death of Sir Thomas Fleming made a vacancy in the chief justiceship of the king's bench, and Bacon, after some deliberation, proposed to the king that Coke should be removed from his place in the court of common pleas and transferred to the king's bench. He gives several reasons for this in his letter to the king, but in all probability his chief motive was that pointed out by Spedding, that in the court of king's bench there would be less danger of Coke coming into collision with the king on questions of prerogative, in handling which Bacon was always very circumspect and tender. The vacancy caused by Coke's promotion was then filled up by Hobart, and Bacon, finally, stepped into the place of attorney-general. The fact of this advice being offered and followed in all essentials, illustrates very clearly the close relations between the king and Bacon, who had become a confidential adviser on most occasions of difficulty. That his adherence to the royal party was already noticed and commented on appears from the significant remark of Chamberlain, who, after mentioning the recent changes among the law officials, says, "There is a strong apprehension that ... Bacon may prove a dangerous instrument."
Further light is thrown upon Bacon's relations with James, and upon his political sympathies, by the letter to the king advocating the calling of a parliament,[9] and by the two papers of notes on which his letter was founded.[10] These documents, even after due weight is given to all considerations urged in their favour,[11] seem to confirm the view already taken of Bacon's theory of government, and at the same time show that his sympathies with the royal party tended to blind him to the true character of certain courses of action, which can only be justified by a straining of political ethics. The advice he offered, in all sincerity, was most prudent and sagacious, and _might_ have been successfully carried out by a man of Bacon's tact and skill; but it was intensely one-sided, and exhibited a curious want of appreciation of what was even then beginning to be looked on as the true relation of king, parliament and people. Unfortunately for James, he could neither adopt nor carry out Bacon's policy. The parliament which met in April 1614, in which Bacon sat for Cambridge University, and was dissolved in June, after a stormy session, was by no means in a frame of mind suitable for the king's purposes. The House was enraged at the supposed project (then much misunderstood) of the "Undertakers"; objection was taken to Bacon being elected or serving as a member while holding office as attorney-general; and, though an exception was made in his favour, it was resolved that no attorney-general should in future be eligible for a seat in parliament. No supply was granted, and the king's necessities were increased instead of diminished. The emergency suggested to some of the bishops the idea of a voluntary contribution, which was eagerly taken up by the noblemen and crown officials. The scheme was afterwards extended so as to take in the whole kingdom, but lost something of its voluntary character, and the means taken to raise the money, which were not what Bacon would have recommended,[12] were calculated to stir up discontent. The general dissatisfaction received a somewhat unguarded and intemperate expression in a letter sent to the justices of Marlborough by a gentleman of the neighbourhood, named Oliver St John,[13] in which he denounced the attempt to raise funds in this way as contrary to law, reason and religion, as constituting in the king personally an act of perjury, involving in the same crime those who contributed, and thereby subjecting all parties to the curses levelled by the church at such offences. St John was summoned before the Star Chamber for slander and treasonable language; and Bacon, _ex officio_, acted as public prosecutor. The sentence pronounced (a fine of £5000 and imprisonment for life) was severe, but it was not actually inflicted, and probably was not intended to be carried out, the success of the prosecution being all that was desired. St John remained a short time in prison, and was then released, after making a full apology and submission. The fine was remitted. It seems incredible that Bacon's conduct on this occasion should have been censured by his biographers. The offence was clear; the law was undoubted; no particular sympathy was excited for the culprit; the sentence was not carried out; and Bacon did only what any one in his place would naturally and necessarily have done. The nature of his office involved him in several trials for treason occurring about the same time, and one of these is of interest sufficient to require a somewhat longer examination. Edmund Peacham[14] had been [v.03 p.0140] committed to custody for a libel on his superior, James Montagu (1568?-1618), bishop of Bath and Wells. In searching his house for certain papers, the officers came upon some loose sheets stitched together in the form of a sermon, the contents of which were of such a nature that it was judged right to lay them before the council. As it was at first suspected that the writing of this book had been prompted by some disaffected persons, Peacham was interrogated, and after he had declined to give any information, was subjected to torture. Bacon, as one of the learned counsel, was ordered by the council to take part in this examination, which was undoubtedly warranted by precedent, whatever may now be thought of it. Nothing, however, was extracted from Peacham in this way, and it was resolved to proceed against him for treason. Now, in the excited state of popular feeling at that period, the failure of government to substantiate an accusation of treason would have been a serious matter. The king, with whom the council agreed, seems therefore to have thought it desirable to obtain beforehand the opinions of the four chief judges as to whether the alleged offence amounted to treason. In this there was nothing unusual or illegal, and no objection would at that time have been made to it, but James introduced a certain innovation; he proposed that the opinions of the four judges should be given separately and in private. It may be reasonably inferred that his motive for this was the suspicion, or it may be the knowledge, that Coke did not consider the matter treasonable. At all events when Coke, who as a councillor already knew the facts of the case, was consulted regarding the new proposal of the king, he at once objected to it, saying that "this particular and auricular taking of opinions" was "new and dangerous," and "not according to the custom of the realm." He at last reluctantly assented, and proposed that Bacon should consult with him, while the other law officers addressed themselves to the three puisne judges. By Bacon's directions the proposal to the three judges to give their opinions separately was made suddenly and confidently, and any scruples they might have felt were easily overcome. The first step was thus gained, and it was hoped that if "infusion" could be avoided, if the papers bearing on the case were presented to the judges quickly, and before their minds could be swayed by extraneous influence, their decision on the case would be the same as that of the king. It is clear that the extraneous influence to be feared was Coke, who, on being addressed by Bacon, again objected to giving his opinion separately, and even seemed to hope that his brother judges after they had seen the papers would withdraw their assent to giving their decisions privately. Even after the discussion of the case with Bacon, he would not give his opinion until the others had handed in theirs. What the other judges thought is not definitely known, but Bacon appears to have been unable to put in operation the plan he had devised for swaying Coke's judgment,[15] or if he did attempt it, he was unsuccessful, for Coke finally gave an opinion consistent with what he seems to have held at first, that the book was not treasonable, as it did not disable the king's title. Although the opinions of the judges were not made public, yet as we learn, not only from Bacon, but from a sentence in one of Carleton's letters,[16] a rumour had got about that there was doubt as to the book being treasonable. Under these circumstances, Bacon, who feared that such a report might incite other people to attempt a similar offence, proposed to the king that a second rumour should be circulated in order to destroy the impression caused by the first. "I do think it necessary," he says, "that because we live in an age in which no counsel is kept, and that it is true there is some bruit abroad that the judges of the king's bench do doubt of the case that it should not be treason, that it be given out constantly, and yet as it were in secret, and so a fame to slide, that the doubt was only upon the publication, in that it was never published. For that (if your majesty marketh it) taketh away or at least qualifieth the danger of the example; for that will be no man's case."[17] Bacon's conduct in this matter has been curiously misrepresented. He has been accused of torturing the prisoner, and of tampering with the judges[18] by consulting them before the trial; nay, he is even represented as selecting this poor clergyman to serve for an example to terrify the disaffected, as breaking into his study and finding there a sermon never intended to be preached, which merely encouraged the people to resist tyranny.[19] All this lavish condemnation rests on a complete misconception of the case. If any blame attaches to him, it must arise either from his endeavour to force Coke to a favourable decision, in which he was in all probability prompted by a feeling, not uncommon with him, that a matter of state policy was in danger of being sacrificed to some senseless legal quibble or precedent, or from his advice to the king that a rumour should be set afloat which was not strictly true.
Bacon's share in another great trial which came on shortly afterwards, the Overbury and Somerset case, is not of such a nature as to render it necessary to enter upon it in detail.[20] It may be noted, however, that his letters about this time show that he had become acquainted with the king's new favourite, the brilliant Sir George Villiers, and that he stood high in the king's good graces. In the early part of 1616, when Thomas Egerton, Baron Ellesmere (_c._ 1540-1617), the lord chancellor, was dangerously ill, Bacon wrote a long and careful letter to the king, proposing himself for the office, should it fall vacant, and stating as frankly as possible of what value he considered his services would be. In answer, he appears to have received a distinct promise of the reversion of the office; but, as Ellesmere recovered, the matter stood over for a time. He proposed, however, that he should be made a privy councillor, in order to give him more weight in his almost recognized position of adviser to the king, and on the 9th of June 1616 he took the oaths and his seat at the council board.
Meanwhile, his great rival Coke, whose constant tendency to limit the prerogative by law and precedent had made him an object of particular dislike to James, had on two points come into open collision with the king's rights. The first case was an action of _praemunire_ against the court of chancery, evidently instigated by him, but brought at the instance of certain parties whose adversaries had obtained redress in the chancellor's court after the cause had been tried in the court of king's bench. With all his learning and ingenuity Coke failed in inducing or even forcing the jury to bring in a bill against the court of chancery, and it seems fairly certain that on the technical point of law involved he was wrong. Although his motive was, in great measure, a feeling of personal dislike towards Ellesmere, yet it is not improbable that he was influenced by the desire to restrict in every possible way the jurisdiction of a court which was the direct exponent of the king's wishes. The other case, that of the _commendams_, was more important in itself and in the circumstances connected with it. The general question involved in a special instance was whether or not the king's prerogative included the right of granting at pleasure livings _in commendam_, _i.e._ to be enjoyed by one who was not the incumbent. Bacon, as attorney-general, delivered a speech, which has not been reported; but the king was informed that the arguments on the other side had not been limited to the special case, but had directly impugned the general prerogative right of granting livings. It was necessary for James, as a party interested, at once to take measures to see that the decision of the judges should not be given on the general question without due consultation. He accordingly wrote to Bacon, directing him to intimate to the judges his pleasure that they should delay judgment until after discussion of the matter with himself. Bacon communicated first with Coke, who in reply desired that similar notice should be given to the other judges. This was done by Bacon, though he seems to hint that in so doing he was [v.03 p.0141] going a little beyond his instructions. The judges took no notice of the intimation, proceeded at once to give judgment, and sent a letter in their united names to the king announcing what they had done, and declaring that it was contrary to law and to their oath for them to pay any attention to a request that their decision should be delayed. The king was indignant at this encroachment, and acting partly on the advice of Bacon, held a council on the 6th of June 1616, at which the judges attended. James then entered at great length into the case, censuring the judges for the offensive form of their letter, and for not having delayed judgment upon his demand, which had been made solely because he was himself a party concerned. The judges, at the conclusion of his speech, fell on their knees, and implored pardon for the manner of their letter; but Coke attempted to justify the matter contained in it, saying that the delay required by his majesty was contrary to law. The point of law was argued by Bacon, and decided by the chancellor in favour of the king, who put the question to the judges individually, "Whether, if at any time, in a case depending before the judges, which his majesty conceived to concern him either in power or profit, and thereupon required to consult with them, and that they should stay proceedings in the meantime, they ought not to stay accordingly?" To this all gave assent except Coke, who said that "when the case should be, he would do that should be fit for a judge to do." No notice was taken by the king of this famous, though somewhat evasive, reply, But the judges were again asked what course they would take in the special case now before them. They all declared that they would not decide the matter upon general grounds affecting the prerogative, but upon special circumstances incident to the case; and with this answer they were dismissed. Bacon's conduct throughout the affair has been blamed, but apparently on wrong grounds. As attorney he was merely fulfilling his duty in obeying the command of the king; and in laying down the law on the disputed point, he was, we may be sure, speaking his own convictions. Censure might more reasonably be bestowed on him because he deliberately advised a course of action than which nothing can be conceived better calculated to strengthen the hands of an absolute monarch.[21] This appeared to Bacon justifiable and right, because the prerogative would be defended and preserved intact. Coke certainly stands out in a better light, not so much for his answer, which was rather indefinite, and the force of which is much weakened by his assent to the second question of the king, but for the general spirit of resistance to encroachment exhibited by him. He was undeniably troublesome to the king, and it is no matter for wonder that James resolved to remove him from a position where he could do so much harm. On the 26th June he was called before the council to answer certain charges, one of which was his conduct in the _praemunire_ question. He acknowledged his error on that head, and made little defence. On the 30th he was suspended from council and bench, and ordered to employ his leisure in revising certain obnoxious opinions in his reports. He did not perform the task to the king's satisfaction, and a few months later he was dismissed from office.
Bacon's services to the king's cause had been most important; and as he had, at the same time, acquired great favour with Villiers, his prospects looked brighter than before. According to his custom, he strove earnestly to guide by his advice the conduct of the young favourite. His letters, in which he analyses the various relations in which such a man must stand, and prescribes the course of action suitable for each, are valuable and deserving of attention.[22] Very striking, in view of future events, are the words[23] in which he gives him counsel as to his dealing with judges: "By no means be you persuaded to interpose yourself by word or letter in any cause depending, or like to be depending, in any court of justice, nor suffer any man to do it where you can hinder it; and by all means dissuade the king himself from it, upon the importunity of any, either for their friends or themselves. If it should prevail, it perverts justice; but if the judge be so just, and of so undaunted a courage (as he ought to be) as not to be inclined thereby, yet it always leaves a taint of suspicions and prejudice behind it." It is probable that Villiers at this time had really a sense of the duties attaching to his position[24] and was willing to be guided by a man of approved wisdom. It was not long before an opportunity occurred for showing his gratitude and favour. Ellesmere resigned the chancellorship on the 5th of March 1616/7, and on the 7th the great seal was bestowed upon Bacon, with the title of lord keeper. Two months later he took his seat with great pomp in the chancery court, and delivered a weighty and impressive opening discourse. He entered with great vigour on his new labours, and in less than a month he was able to report to Buckingham that he had cleared off all outstanding chancery cases. He seemed now to have reached the height of his ambition; he was the first law officer in the kingdom, the accredited minister of his sovereign, and on the best terms with the king and his favourite. His course seemed perfectly prosperous and secure, when a slight storm arising opened his eyes to the frailty of the tenure by which he held his position.
Coke was in disgrace but not in despair; there seemed to be a way whereby he could reconcile himself to Buckingham, through the marriage of his daughter, who had an ample fortune, to Sir John Villiers, brother of the marquess, who was penniless or nearly so. The match was distasteful to Lady Hatton and to her daughter; a violent quarrel was the consequence, and Bacon, who thought the proposed marriage most unsuitable, took Lady Hatton's part. His reasons for disapproval he explained to the king and Buckingham, but found to his surprise that their indignation was strongly roused against him. He received from both bitter letters of reproof; it was rumoured that he would be disgraced, and Buckingham was said to have compared his present conduct to his previous unfaithfulness to Essex. Bacon, who seems to have acted from a simple desire to do the best for Buckingham's own interests, at once changed his course, advanced the match by every means in his power, and by a humble apology appeased the indignation that had been excited against him. It had been a sharp lesson, but things seemed to go on smoothly after it, and Bacon's affairs prospered.
On the 4th of January 1617/8 he received the higher title of lord chancellor; in July of the same year he was made Baron Verulam and in January 1620/1 he was created Viscount St Albans. His fame, too, had been increased by the publication in 1620 of his most celebrated work, the _Novum Organum_. He seemed at length to have made satisfactory progress towards the realization of his cherished aims; the method essential for his Instauration was partially completed; and he had attained as high a rank in the state as he had ever contemplated. But his actions in that position were not calculated to promote the good of his country.
Connected with the years during which he held office is one of the weightiest charges against his character. Buckingham, notwithstanding the advice he had received from Bacon himself, was in the habit of addressing letters to him recommending the causes of suitors. In many cases these seem nothing more than letters of courtesy, and, from the general tone, it might fairly be concluded that there was no intention to sway the opinion of the judge illegally, and that Bacon did not understand the letters in that sense. This view is supported by consideration of the few answers to them which are extant.[25] One outstanding case, however, that of Dr Steward,[26] casts some suspicion on all the others. The terms of Buckingham's note[27] concerning it might easily have aroused doubts; and we find that the further course of the action was to all appearances exactly accommodated to Dr Steward, who [v.03 p.0142] had been so strongly recommended. It is, of course, dangerous to form an extreme judgment on an isolated and partially understood case, of which also we have no explanation from Bacon himself, but if the interpretation advanced by Heath be the true one, Bacon certainly suffered his first, and, so far as we can see, just judgment on the case to be set aside, and the whole matter to be reopened in obedience to a request from Buckingham.
It is somewhat hard to understand Bacon's position with regard to the king during these years. He was the first officer of the crown, the most able man in the kingdom, prudent, sagacious and devoted to the royal party. Yet his advice was followed only when it chimed in with James's own will; his influence was of a merely secondary kind; and his great practical skill was employed simply in carrying out the measures of the king in the best mode possible. We know indeed that he sympathized cordially with the home policy of the government; he had no objection to such monopolies or patents as seemed advantageous to the country, and for this he is certainly not to be blamed.[28] The opinion was common at the time, and the error was merely ignorance of the true principles of political economy. But we know also that the patents were so numerous as to be oppressive, and we can scarcely avoid inferring that Bacon more readily saw the advantages to the government than the disadvantages to the people. In November 1620, when a new parliament was summoned to meet on January following, he earnestly pressed that the most obnoxious patents, those of alehouses and inns, and the monopoly of gold and silver thread, should be given up, and wrote to Buckingham, whose brothers were interested, advising him to withdraw them from the impending storm. This prudent advice was unfortunately rejected. But while he went cordially with the king in domestic affairs, he was not quite in harmony with him on questions of foreign policy. Not only was he personally in favour of a war with Spain for the recovery of the Palatinate, but he foresaw in such a course of action the means of drawing together more closely the king and his parliament. He believed that the royal difficulties would be removed if a policy were adopted with which the people could heartily sympathize, and if the king placed himself at the head of his parliament and led them on. But his advice was neglected by the vacillating and peace-loving monarch, his proffered proclamation was put aside, and a weak, featureless production substituted in its place. Nevertheless the new parliament seemed at first more responsive than might have been looked for. A double subsidy was granted, which was expressly stated to be "not on any consideration or condition for or concerning the Palatinate." The session, however, was not far advanced when the question of patents was brought up; a determined attack was made upon the very ones of which Bacon had been in dread, and it was even proposed to proceed against the referees (Bacon and Montagu) who had certified that there was no objection to them in point of law. This proposal, though pressed by Coke, was allowed to drop; while the king and Buckingham, acting under the advice of Williams, afterwards lord keeper, agreed to give up the monopolies. It was evident, however, that a determined attack was about to be made upon Bacon, and that the proceeding against the referees was really directed against him. It is probable that this charge was dropped because a more powerful weapon had in the meantime been placed in his enemies' hands. This was the accusation of bribery and corrupt dealings in chancery suits, an accusation apparently wholly unexpected by Bacon, and the possibility of which he seems never to have contemplated until it was actually brought against him. At the beginning of the session a committee had been appointed for inquiring into abuses in the courts of justice. Some illegal practices of certain chancery officials had been detected and punished by the court itself, and generally there was a disposition to overhaul its affairs, while Coke and Lionel Cranfield, earl of Middlesex (1575-1645) directly attacked some parts of the chancellor's administration. But on the 14th of March one Christopher Aubrey appeared at the bar of the House, and charged Bacon with having received from him a sum of money while his suit was going on, and with having afterwards decided against him. Bacon's letter[29] on this occasion is worthy of serious attention; he evidently thought the charge was but part of the deliberate scheme to ruin him which had already been in progress. A second accusation (Edward Egerton's case) followed immediately after, and was investigated by the House, who, satisfied that they had just matter for reprehension, appointed the 19th for a conference with the Lords. On that day Bacon, as he had feared, was too ill to attend. He wrote[30] to the Lords excusing his absence, requesting them to appoint a convenient time for his defence and cross-examination of witnesses, and imploring them not to allow their minds to be prejudiced against him, at the same time declaring that he would not "trick up an innocency with cavillations, but plainly and ingenuously declare what he knew or remembered." The charges rapidly accumulated, but Bacon still looked upon them as party moves, and was in hopes of defending himself.[31] Nor did he seem to have lost his courage, if we are to believe the common reports of the day,[32] though certainly they do not appear worthy of very much credit.
The notes[33] bearing upon the interview which he obtained with the king show that he had begun to see more clearly the nature and extent of the offences with which he was charged, that he now felt it impossible altogether to exculpate himself, and that his hopes were directed towards obtaining some mitigation of his sentence. The long roll of charges made upon the 19th of April finally decided him; he gave up all idea of defence, and wrote to the king begging him to show him favour in this emergency.[34] The next day he sent in a general confession to the Lords,[35] trusting that this would be considered satisfactory. The Lords, however, decided that it was not sufficient as a ground for their censure, and demanded a detailed and particular confession. A list of twenty-eight charges was then sent him, to which an answer by letter was required. On the 30th of April his "confession and humble submission"[36] was handed in. In it, after going over the several instances, he says, "I do again confess, that on the points charged upon me, although they should be taken as myself have declared them, there is a great deal of corruption and neglect; for which I am heartily and penitently sorry, and submit myself to the judgment, grace, and mercy of the court."[37] On the 3rd of May, after considerable discussion, the Lords decided upon the sentence, which was,[38] That he should undergo fine and ransom of £40,000; that he should be imprisoned in the Tower during the king's pleasure; that he should be for ever incapable of any office, place or employment in the state or commonwealth; that he should never sit in parliament, or come within the verge of the court. This heavy sentence was [v.03 p.0143] only partially executed. The fine was in effect remitted by the king; imprisonment in the Tower lasted for about four days; a general pardon (not of course covering the parliamentary censure) was made out, and though delayed at the seal for a time by Lord Keeper Williams, was passed probably in November 1621. The cause of the delay seems to have lain with Buckingham, whose friendship had cooled, and who had taken offence at the fallen chancellor's unwillingness to part with York House. This difference was finally smoothed over, and it was probably through his influence that Bacon received the much-desired permission to come within the verge of the court. He never again sat in parliament.
So ends this painful episode, which has given rise to the most severe condemnation of Bacon, and which still presents great and perhaps insuperable difficulties. On the whole, the tendency of the most recent and thorough researches has been towards the opinion that Bacon's own account of the matter (from which, indeed, our knowledge of it is chiefly drawn) is substantially correct. He distinguishes three ways in which bribes may be given,[39] and ingenuously confesses that his own acts amounted to corruption and were worthy of condemnation. Now, corruption strictly interpreted would imply the deliberate sale of justice, and this Bacon explicitly denies, affirming that he never "had bribe or reward in his eye or thought when he pronounced any sentence or order." When we analyse the specific charges against him, with his answers to them, we find many that are really of little weight. The twenty-eighth and last, that of negligence in looking after his servants, though it did him much harm, may fairly be said to imply no moral blame. The majority of the others are instances of gratuities given after the decision, and it is to be regretted that the judgment of the peers gives us no means of determining how such gifts were looked upon, whether or not the acceptance of them was regarded as a "corrupt" practice. In four cases specifically, and in some others by implication, Bacon confesses that he had received bribes from suitors _pendente lite_. Yet he affirms, as we said before, that his intention was never swayed by a bribe; and so far as any of these cases can be traced, his decisions, often given in conjunction with some other official, are to all appearance thoroughly just. In several cases his judgment appears to have been given against the party bestowing the bribe, and in at least one instance, that of Lady Wharton, it seems impossible to doubt that he must have known when accepting the present that his opinion would be adverse to her cause. Although, then, he felt that these practices were really corrupt, and even rejoiced that his own fall would tend to purify the courts from them,[40] he did not feel that he was guilty of perverting justice for the sake of reward. How far, then, is such defence or explanation admissible and satisfactory? It is clear that two things are to be considered: the one the guilt of taking bribes or presents on any consideration, the other the moral guilt depending upon the wilful perversion of justice. The attempt has sometimes been made to defend the whole of Bacon's conduct on the ground that he did nothing that was not done by many of his contemporaries. Bacon himself disclaims a defence of this nature, and we really have no direct evidence which shows to what extent the offering and receiving of such bribes then prevailed. That the practice was common is indeed implied by the terms in which Bacon speaks of it, and it is not improbable that the fact of these gifts being taken by officials was a thing fairly well known, although all were aware of their illegal character, and it was plain that any public exposure of such dealings would be fatal to the individual against whom the charge was made out.[41] Bacon knew all this; he was well aware that the practice was in itself indefensible,[42] and that his conduct was therefore corrupt and deserving of censure. So far, then, as the mere taking of bribes is concerned, he would permit no defence, and his own confession and judgment on his action contain as severe a condemnation as has ever been passed upon him. Yet in the face of this he does not hesitate to call himself "the justest chancellor that hath been in the five changes since Sir Nicholas Bacon's time";[43] and this on the plea that his intentions had always been pure, and had never been affected by the presents he received. His justification has been set aside by modern critics, not on the ground that the evidence demonstrates its falsity,[44] but because it is inconceivable or unnatural that any man should receive a present from another, and not suffer his judgment to be swayed thereby. It need hardly be said that such an _a priori_ conviction is not a sufficient basis on which to found a sweeping condemnation of Bacon's integrity as an administrator of justice. On the other hand, even if it be admitted to be possible and conceivable that a present should be given by a suitor simply as seeking favourable consideration of his cause, and not as desirous of obtaining an unjust decree, and should be accepted by the judge on the same understanding, this would not entitle one absolutely to accept Bacon's statement. Further evidence is necessary in order to give foundation to a definite judgment either way; and it is extremely improbable, nay, almost impossible, that such can ever be produced. In these circumstances, due weight should be given to Bacon's own assertions of his perfect innocence and purity of intention; they ought not to be put out of court unless found in actual contradiction to the facts, and the reverse of this is the case, so far as has yet appeared.[45]
The remaining five years of his life, though he was still harassed by want of means, for James was not liberal, were spent in work far more valuable to the world than anything he had accomplished in his high office. In March 1622 he presented to Prince Charles his _History of Henry VII._; and immediately, with unwearied industry, set to work to complete some portions of his great work. In November 1622 appeared the _Historia Ventorum_; in January 1622/3, the _Historia Vitae et Mortis_; and in October of the same year, the _De Augmentis Scientiarum_, a Latin translation, with many additions, of the _Advancement_. Finally, in December 1624, he published his _Apophthegms_, and _Translations of some of the Psalms_, dedicated to George Herbert; and, in 1625, a third and enlarged edition of the _Essays_.
Busily occupied with these labours, his life now drew rapidly to a close. In March 1626 he came to London, and when driving one day near Highgate, was taken with a desire to discover whether snow would act as an antiseptic. He stopped his carriage, got out at a cottage, purchased a fowl, and with his own hands assisted to stuff it with snow. He was seized with a sudden chill, and became so seriously unwell that he had to be conveyed to Lord Arundel's house, which was near at hand. Here his illness increased, the cold and chill brought on bronchitis and he died, after a few days' suffering, on the 9th of April 1626.
[v.03 p.0144] _Bacon's Works and Philosophy._
A complete survey of Bacon's works and an estimate of his place in literature and philosophy are matters for a volume. It is here proposed merely to classify the works, to indicate their general character and to enter somewhat more in detail upon what he himself regarded as his great achievement,--the reorganization of the sciences and the exposition of a new method by which the human mind might proceed with security and certainty towards the true end of all human thought and action.
Putting aside the letters and occasional writings, we may conveniently distribute the other works into three classes, _Professional, Literary, Philosophical_. The Professional works include the _Reading on the Statute of Uses_, the _Maxims of Law_ and the treatise (possibly spurious) on the _Use of the Law_. "I am in good hope," said Bacon himself, "that when Sir Edward Coke's reports and my rules and decisions shall come to posterity, there will be (whatsoever is now thought) question who was the greater lawyer." If Coke's reports show completer mastery of technical details, greater knowledge of precedent, and more of the dogged grasp of the letter than do Bacon's legal writings, there can be no dispute that the latter exhibit an infinitely more comprehensive intelligence of the abstract principles of jurisprudence, with a richness and ethical fulness that more than compensate for their lack of dry legal detail. Bacon seems indeed to have been a lawyer of the first order, with a keen scientific insight into the bearings of isolated facts and a power of generalization which admirably fitted him for the self-imposed task, unfortunately never completed, of digesting or codifying the chaotic mass of the English law.
Among the literary works are included all that he himself designated moral and historical pieces, and to these may be added some theological and minor writings, such as the _Apophthegms_. Of the moral works the most valuable are the _Essays_, which have been so widely read and universally admired. The matter is of the familiar, practical kind, that "comes home to men's bosoms." The thoughts are weighty, and even when not original have acquired a peculiar and unique tone or cast by passing through the crucible of Bacon's mind. A sentence from the _Essays_ can rarely be mistaken for the production of any other writer. The short, pithy sayings have become popular mottoes and household words. The style is quaint, original, abounding in allusions and witticisms, and rich, even to gorgeousness, with piled-up analogies and metaphors.[46] The first edition contained only ten essays, but the number was increased in 1612 to thirty-eight, and in 1625 to fifty-eight. The short tract, _Colours of Good and Evil_, which with the _Meditationes Sacrae_ originally accompanied the Essays, was afterwards incorporated with the _De Augmentis_. Along with these works may be classed the curiously learned piece, _De Sapientia Veterum_, in which he works out a favourite idea, that the mythological fables of the Greeks were allegorical and concealed the deepest truths of their philosophy. As a scientific explanation of the myths the theory is of no value, but it affords fine scope for the exercise of Bacon's unrivalled power of detecting analogies in things apparently most dissimilar. The _Apophthegms_, though hardly deserving Macaulay's praise of being the best collection of jests in the world, contain a number of those significant anecdotes which Bacon used with such effect in his other writings. Of the historical works, besides a few fragments of the projected history of Britain there remains the _History of Henry VII._, a valuable work, giving a clear and animated narrative of the reign, and characterizing Henry with great skill. The style is in harmony with the matter, vigorous and flowing, but naturally with less of the quaintness and richness suitable to more thoughtful and original writings. The series of the literary works is completed by the minor treatises on theological or ecclesiastical questions. Some of the latter, included among the occasional works, are sagacious and prudent and deserve careful study. Of the former, the principal specimens are the _Meditationes Sacrae_ and the _Confession of Faith_. The _Paradoxes_ (Characters of a believing Christian in paradoxes, and seeming contradictions), which was often and justly suspected, has been conclusively proved by Grosart to be the work of another author.
_Philosophical Works._--The great mass of Bacon's writings consists of treatises or fragments, which either formed integral parts of his grand comprehensive scheme, or were closely connected with it. More exactly they may be classified under three heads: (A) Writings originally intended to form parts of the _Instauratio_, but which were afterwards superseded or thrown aside; (B) Works connected with the _Instauratio_, but not directly included in its plan; (C) Writings which actually formed part of the _Instauratio Magna_.
(A) This class contains some important tracts, which certainly contain little, if anything, that is not afterwards taken up and expanded in the more elaborate works, but are not undeserving of attention, from the difference in the point of view and method of treatment. The most valuable of them are: (1) _The Advancement of Learning_, of which no detailed account need be given, as it is completely worked up into the _De Augmentis_, and takes its place as the first part of the _Instauratio_. (2) _Valerius Terminus_, a very remarkable piece, composed probably about 1603, though perhaps retouched at a later period. It contains a brief and somewhat obscure outline of the first two parts in the _Instauratio_, and is of importance as affording us some insight into the gradual development of the system in Bacon's own mind. (3) _Temporis Partus Masculus_, another curious fragment, remarkable not only from its contents, but from its style, which is arrogant and offensive, in this respect unlike any other writing of Bacon's. The adjective _masculus_ points to the power of bringing forth fruit possessed by the new philosophy, and perhaps indicates that all previous births of time were to be looked upon as feminine or imperfect; it is used in a somewhat similar sense in _Letters and Life_, vi. 183, "_In verbis masculis_, no flourishing or painted words, but such words as are fit to go before deeds." (4) _Redargutio Philosophiarum_, a highly finished piece in the form of an oration, composed probably about 1608 or 1609, and containing in pretty full detail much of what afterwards appears in connexion with the _Idola Theatri_ in