cause the Attorney-General was not thoroughly convinced of his guilt, what would the Lord Chief Justice have said next? And what would he have taught all the people to say? Such a course would have been no less injurious to Somerset himself, if he was innocent, than offensive to the people and dangerous to the Crown. Nor could any good have come by it to anybody, so far as we can see, unless it be to our friend Posterity; whom it certainly would have relieved from a considerable embarrassment in which the course actually taken has placed her. Had the trial not proceeded, she would have pronounced Somerset guilty, and had no doubt of it. Had he been executed according to the judicial sentence and course of law, she would with equal confidence have pronounced him innocent. As it is, her state of mind appears to be reflected fairly enough in that of the author of the Great Oyer, her latest exponent; who, as often as he thinks of Somerset as an object of prosecution, inclines to think him innocent; as often as he thinks of him as an object of pardon, inclines to think him guilty; and seems to regard the King as having at once, in one and the same person, attempted to murder an innocent man and actually pardoned a murderer. Nor has Mr. Gardiner quite succeeded in delivering himself out of this difficulty. But among the people of the timewhose judgments it was important to satisfy-there must surely have been many who could see that if it appeared to the King (as it did to his Attorney-General) 'exceedingly probable that Somerset was guilty,' he was right in bringing him to trial; and that if, after reading the report of the trial and the defence, and observing his demeanour before, at, and after the trial, it seemed to him (as it does to Posterity and Mr. Gardiner, ii. p. 234) 'more than probable,' or even (as the AttorneyGeneral expected it would seem) not impossible, that he was an innocent man,' he was also right in using his prerogative of mercy. To the great controversy between the Crown and the Bench- or rather between the King, assisted by Ellesmere and Bacon, and Sir Edward Coke, followed by the other judges-Mr. Gardiner gives its proper prominence; and reports it with wonderful fairness, considering the strength of his own predilection for the side which certainly shows to least advantage in the dispute. A predilection so strong, however, could hardly fail to leave some impression on the narrative; and it shows itself in a silent but persistent assumption that whatever excuses the King's party might have, they had at all events no reason on their side. This, with Mr. Gardiner, is one of many things which it is of course needless to observe;' and is taken for granted throughout. He sees that the King, and Ellesmere, and Bacon, were all sincerely of opinion that they were fighting in defence of the Constitution and in the interest of good government. He sees many reasons- reasons 'plausible enough to impose upon their minds' (p. 264)-which may have misled them to that conclusion. He sees that 'the judges, if they succeeded in maintaining their independence' [i. e., in making good their new pretensions] 'would have in their hands the supreme control over the Consitution; would be able, without rendering an account to any one, to restrain or extend the powers of the Crown for an indefinite period,' (p. 262). He sees that 'a strictly legal training was not the best preparation for deciding finally upon political questions' (p. 277); and that Coke in particular, far from being an exception, was a conspicuous example to prove that 'no amount of legal knowledge will ever constitute a statesman,' (p. 282). He does not overlook the obvious inference that the power in question was one with which men of their order could not be quite safely trusted; and accounts it one not of the least happy results' of the ultimate victory of Parliament in its contest with the Crown, 'that it has now become possible to exercise a control over the judges, without sacrificing their independence,' (p. 6 Coke's 263). He does not disguise that the particular point in dispute (concerning, as it did, the legal limits of the prerogative) was argued by Bacon as one of purely technical law (p. 268); that in one of the two cases 'it was perhaps the difficulty of resisting Bacon's precedents, combined with the disinclination of the judges to assent to his conclusion, that led to a compromise of the question;' and that in the other, 'Coke could not refute the arguments which were brought against him' (p. 277); nay, that there was a side of the question on which Bacon too was in the right,' (p. 278). Yet for all this he cannot conceive it as a question really disputable, but treats it all along as if one side were simply for law as against arbitrary power, the other simply for arbitrary power as against law-the one simply right, the other simply wrong. law may have been frequently quoted in support of injustice; still it was law, and not mere arbitrary power,' (p. 265). 'If his mind was incapable of discovering why he was right and his opponent wrong, he had no doubt about the fact. was required to prostitute the independence of the judicial bench to the arbitrary interference of the King,' (p. 278). Eleven of the judges gave way, and promised that they would act according to the King's wishes.' [The King's wishes, it should be mentioned by the way, were that if at any time in a case depending before the judges his, Majesty conceived it to concern him either in honour or profit, and thereupon required to consult with them, and that they should stay proceedings in the mean time,' they should do so.] 'The cause of this dereliction of their duty (for after all that may be fairly said on their behalf it amounts to nothing less) was,' &c. (p. 277). He This fixed assumption insensibly affects the turn of expression in Mr. Gardiner's narrative; and we suspect that Bacon could have suggested several small corrections to make it more exact. Taking it however as it stands, it will be both surprising, we think, and disap pointing to the many readers whose opinions and sympathies are already engaged on the same side with Mr. Gardiner; while to those who are still disengaged it can hardly fail to suggest an easier and simpler explanation of the whole matter: which is this:-The extent of the royal prerogative was a question of law, determinable by statutes and precedents; the course now taken by the judges was one of those encroachments upon the prerogative, by which it has been gradually limited and reduced within narrower bounds. As the law then stood, the judges were in the wrong—the precedents were against them. Eleven of them felt that they were wrong, and submitted. Coke also felt that he was wrong, but could not bring himself to own it; and when called upon to do so, took refuge in his famous evasive answer, which Posterity admires so much, and with which the King very judiciously let him go away. Of the subsequent removal of Coke from the Bench (which happened five months after), considered as a stage in constitutional history, Mr. Gardiner seems to us to overrate the importance. The King got rid of an officer who was very troublesome in himself, and by his influence made others troublesome too; but we cannot find that the relation of the Crown to the Bench was materially altered by it. The office was held durante bene placito; and there was no doubt that the King had as much right to remove a judge for unfitness then as the Secretary of State has to remove a stipendiary magistrate now. Coke was an awkward man to remove, because he was regarded by the people as their champion; but if he was not also a very unfit man to remain, all we can say is that Mr. Gardiner has done him great wrong. It is difficult to suppose a case in these times properly analogous; because judges as well as kings were permitted in those days to use their authority in many ways which would not be dreamed of now; but a case might still occur in which Parliament would be called on to interfere; and if a Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench should at the commencement of a trial for murder cause it to be officially announced in court, for the satisfaction of the multitude, that certain named persons (being under arrest on suspicion, but not yet indicted), were the real authors of the murder' (p. 225); if, four days after, he should cause that announcement to be repeated; if, four months after that, being directed to postpone the trial of another of the suspected parties on the ground that the evidence was not sufficient, he should take occasion to inform him or have him informed, in open court, that he was withdrawn, not because he was not as guilty as the rest, but because he was suspected of worse crimes; and should then proceed to intimate that he had come upon the traces of a great plot, and had discovered evidence that the Prince had met his death by violent means,' (p. 229); if, before three months more had passed, he should advise two scoundrels to prefer indictments' in his own court against all persons who had anything to do with certain proceedings in chancery which interfered with his jurisdiction, and should threaten to commit the grand jury for delaying to find a true bill (pp. 269-271); and if by his general conduct on the Bench he should have proved himself to be a man whose natural acuteness and sagacity were over-balanced by his readiness to look only at that side of the evidence by which his foregone conclusions, were supported, whilst his violent temper made it impossible for him to scrutinize doubtful points with any degree of calmness, and his ignorance of human nature prevented him from seeing a whole class of facts by which the judgment of a wiser man would have been influenced;' we cannot but think that Parliament would feel called upon to interfere, and both Houses would address the Crown for his removal. And the power, with its appertaining duties, which belongs to Parliament now, belonged to the King then.* *We are glad to see that the absurdity of supposing the famous letter of expostulation' to have been written by Bacon has not escaped Mr. Gardiner (Note, p. 283); also that he is evidently unaware that he is not the first to point this out. His opinion, as the result of an independent inquiry, will have the greater weight. He has, however, been anticipated by Godwin, who, in a note to one of the early chapters of his History of the Commonwealth, rejects it on grounds almost identical; and again by Mr. Spedding, who notices it (Bacon's Works, vi. p. 594) among the writings attributed to Bacon without authority;' adding that nobody can believe it to have been written by him who knows what it is about. As it continues, however, to be quoted as his by writers whose opinion may be supposed to have some weight, it may be worth while to develop this remark a little more fully. The letter is evidently the production of some Puritan, zealous and popular, anxious for the restoration of Coke as the champion of the Commonwealth, and deriving his knowledge of the matter entirely from Paul's Walk. He fully believes in all that absurd story about the great poison-conspiracy, which Coke swallowed so greedily, and announced so precipitately. He avows an opinion that the nullity—that is, the nullification of the marriage between Lord and Lady Essex (a proceeding in which the King had taken so eager an interest and so prominent a part) was an invention of the devil, scandalous to the truth of the whole Gospel. He represents the conclusion of the proceedings in the Overbury case (which Bacon had taken such pains to set forth as an excellent and exemplary work of the King's justice) as an undermining of justice by private interest and a binding of her hands. He praises Coke's conduct with regard to the præmunire (that is, his attack upon the jurisdiction of the Court of Chancery, which Bacon profoundly disapproved, and used all his endeavours to defeat) as a good action in the behalf of the Commonwealth, censurable only on account of the time selected for it; and of which he regrets the ill success. And finally he urges Coke to employ his wealth to recover the favour which he has lost. In short, the letter must have been written by a man who sympathized with Coke in his opposition to the King, who had nothing to do with the Government, and who was anxious to see Coke restored to favour. It is impossible to think that Bacon believed what the writer believed-still less that, if he had believed it, he would have taken this method of declaring it. The writer might have been prosecuted in the Star Chamber for scandalizing the Government. VOL. LXIX. NO. CCCCXII. F F But though the removal of Coke allowed the administration of justice to proceed more quietly, it did not give the King any new right of arbitrary interference with the judges; and even with regard to the right itself of removing them, the result of the experiment proved that he could not, rather than that he could, use it at discretion. Nor could it be otherwise, so long as he was unable to carry on the government without continual supplies from the House of Commons, and the House of Commons was able to exercise its constitutional right to refuse them. It was the beginning of an inevitable revolution. growing expenses of government, accompanied with a gradual diminution in the value of the ordinary subsidy, were making the Crown more and more dependent upon the Commons. The process, though accelerated by James's personal thriftlessness and openness of heart and hand, was not of his introducing. It had come before he came. The Elizabeth found the throne weak and in danger from neighbours on every side; but able with the help of a single subsidy once in four or five years to support its expenses. She left it strong, great, and secure against all assaults from without; but unable to support its expenses without the help of a subsidy every year. A pause from external quarrels allowed the internal contest to come on. It was the management of this contest that formed the real and essential business of James's reign; and it is in the careful account of its progress, the quantity of information which he has gathered in illustration of it, and the exposition of its connexion with the other business of the time, that Mr. Gardiner has supplied the most important contribution to our history. It is too large a subject to enter upon, but we commend it to the attention of all persons who care to understand what was doing in England during those fourteen years. E FRENCH LIFE. Now levard Sévastopol, Rive Gauche, to pay a call. I knew the district well about six years ago, when it was a network of narrow tortuous streets; the houses high, irregular, picturesque, historical, dirty, and unhealthy. I used to have much difficulty in winding my way to certain points in the Quartier Latin from the Faubourg St. Germain, where I was staying. the Hôtel Cluny is enclosed in a neat garden, the railings of which run alongside of the Boulevard Sévastopol; a little further on the same side to the left, the Sorbonne Church is well exposed to view; and the broad artery of the new Boulevard runs up to the Luxembourg gardens, making a clear passage for air and light through the densely populated quartier. It is a great gain in all material points; a great loss to memory and to that kind of imagination which loves to repeople places. The street in which our friend lived was old and narrow; the trottoir was barely wide enough for one uncrinolined person to walk on; and it was impossible to help being splashed by the passing carriages, which indeed threw dirt upon the walls of the houses till there was a sort of dado of mud all along the street. In the grander streets of former days this narrowness did not signify; the houses were of the kind called entre cour et jardin (of which there are specimens in Piccadilly), with the porter's lodge, the offices, and stables abutting on the street; the grand court intervening between the noise and bustle and the high dwellinghouse of the family, which outtopped the low buildings in front. But in the humbler street to which we were bound there were few houses entre cour et jardin; and I could not help wondering how people bore to live in the perpetual noise, and heavy closeness of atmosphere. The friend we were going to see, Madame A-—, had lived in this street for many years. I. The Paris, February, 1862. Her rooms were lofty and tolerably large. The gloomy outlook of the long narrow windows was concealed by the closed muslin curtains, which were of an irreproachable whiteness. I knew the rooms of old. We had to pass through the salleà-manger to the salon; and from thence we, being intimate friends, went on into her bedroom. salle-à-manger had an inlaid floor, very slippery, and without a carpet; the requisite chairs and tables were the only furniture. The pile of clean dinner plates was placed on the top of a china stove; a fire would be lighted in it half-an-hour before dinner, which would warm the plates as well as the room. The salon was graced with the handsome furniture of thirty or forty years ago; but it was a room to be looked at rather than used. Indeed, the family only sit in it on Sunday evenings, when they receive. The floor was parqueté in this room, but here and there it was covered with small brilliantly-coloured Persian carpets: before the sofa, underneath the central table, and before the fire. There were the regular pieces of furniture which were de rigueur in a French household of respectability when Madame A- was married: the gilt vases of artificial flowers, each under a glass shade; the clock, with a figure of a naked hero, supposed to represent Achilles, leaning on his shield (the face of the clock); and the guéridon' (round, marbletopped table), which was so long the one indispensable article in a French drawing-room. But altogether Madame A's salon does not look very habitable, and we pass on into the bedroom, which has little enough of daylight coming through the high narrow windows, but is bright and home-like from the brilliant blaze and flicker of the wood-fire on the hearth. In the far corner is the bed: a grand four-post, with looped-up draperies of some warm colour, which I dare say would prove to be faded 6 |