commission, that was offered him by Richard: and, when the rest of the judges urged it upon him, and employed others to press him to accept of it, he rejected all their importunities, and said, he could act no longer under such authority.

He lived a private man, till the parliament met, that called home the king; to which he was returned knight of the shire, from the county of Gloucester. It appeared, at that time, how much he was beloved and esteemed in his neighbourhood: for, though another who stood in competition with him, had spent near a thousand pounds to procure voices, (a great sum to be employed that way, in those days,) and he had been at no cost; and was so far from soliciting it, that he had stood out long against those who pressed him to appear; and he did not promise to appear, till three days before the election,.. yet he was preferred. He was brought thither, almost by violence, by the lord (now earl of) Berkeley; who bore all the charge of the entertainments, on the day of his election, which was considerable; and had engaged all his friends, and interest for him. And, whereas, by the writ, the knight of a shire must be 'miles gladio cinctus,' and he had no sword, that noble lord girt him with his own sword during the election; but he was soon weary of it, for the embroidery of the belt did not suit well with the plainness of his clothes. And, indeed, the election did not hold long: for, as soon as ever he came into the field, he was chosen by much the greater number, though the poll continued for three or four days.

In that parliament, he bore his share in the

happy period, then put to the confusions, that threatened the utter ruin of the nation; which, contrary to the expectations of the most sanguine, settled in so serene and quiet a manner, that those who had formerly built so much on their success, calling it an answer from heaven to their solemn appeals to the providence of God, were now not a little confounded, to see all this turned against themselves; in an instance much more extraordinary, than any of those were, upon which they had built so much. His great prudence, and excellent temper, led him to think, that, the sooner an act of indemnity were passed, and the fuller it were of graces and favours, it would sooner settle the nation, and quiet the minds of the people; and, therefore, he applied himself, with a particular care, to the framing and carrying it on: in which, it was visible he had no concern of his own, but merely his love of the public that set him on to it.

Soon after this, when the courts in Westminster Hall came to be settled, he was made lord chief baron, in November; and when the earl of Clarendon, (then lord chancellor,) delivered him his commission, in the speech he made, according to the custom on such occasions, he expressed his esteem of him in a very singular manner; telling him, among other things, that, if the king could have found out an honester and fitter man for that employment, he would not have advanced him to it; and that he had therefore preferred him, because he knew none that deserved it so well. It is ordinary for persons so promoted, to be knighted; but he desired to avoid having that honour done him, and therefore,

for a considerable time, declined all opportunities of waiting on the king: which, the lord chancellor observing, sent for him upon business one day, when the king was at his house, and told his majesty, there was his modest chief baron: upon which, he was unexpectedly knighted.

He continued eleven years in that place, managing the court, and all proceedings in it, with singular justice. It was observed by the whole nation, how much he raised the reputation and practice of it: and those who held places and offices in it, can all declare, not only the impartiality of his justice, (for that is but a common virtue,) but his generosity, his vast diligence, and his great exactness in trials. This gave occasion to the only complaint that ever was made of him, that he did not dispatch matters quick enough; but the great care he used, to put suits to a final end, as it made him slower in deciding them, so it had this good effect, that causes tried before him, were seldom if ever tried again.

Nor did his administration of justice lie only in that court. He was one of the principal judges that sat in Clifford's Inn, about settling the difference between landlord and tenant, after the dreadful fire of London. He, being the first that offered his service to the city, for accommodating all the differences that might have arisen, about the rebuilding it; in which, he behaved himself to the satisfaction of all persons concerned; so that the sudden and quiet building of the city, which is justly to be reckoned one of the wonders of the age, is, in no

sir Orlando Bridgeman, (then lord chief justice of the common pleas, afterwards lord keeper of the great seal of England,) used, and to the judgment they showed, in that affair: since, without the rules then laid down, there might have otherwise followed such an endless train of vexatious suits, as might have been little less chargeable than the fire itself had been. But, without detracting from the labours of the other judges, it must be acknowledged, that he was the most instrumental in that great work; for he first, by way of scheme, contrived the rules, upon which he and the rest proceeded afterwards: in which, his readiness at arithmetic, and his skill in architecture, were of great use to him.

But it will not seem strange, that a judge behaved himself as he did, who, at the entry into his employment, set such excellent rules to himself; which will appear, in the following paper, copied from the original under his own hand:..

THINGS NECESSARY TO BE CONTINUALLY HAD IN

REMEMBRANCE.

I. That, in the administration of justice, I am entrusted for God, the king and country: and therefore,

II. That it be done:

1. Uprightly;

2. Deliberately;

3. Resolutely.

III. That I rest not upon my own understanding, or strength; but implore, and rest upon, the direction and strength of God.

IV. That, in the execution of justice, I carefully lay

aside my own passions, and not give way to them, however provoked.

V. That I be wholly intent upon the business I am about; remitting all other cares and thoughts, as unseasonable and interruptions.*

VI. That I suffer not myself to be prepossessed with any judgment at all, till the whole business, and both parties, be heard.

VII. That I never engage myself, in the beginning of any cause; but reserve myself unprejudiced, till the whole be heard.

VIII. That, in business capital, though my nature prompt me to pity, yet, to consider, that there is also a pity due to the country.

IX. That I be not too rigid in matters purely conscientious, where all the harm is diversity of judgment.

X. That I be not biassed with compassion to the poor, or favour to the rich, in point of justice. XI. That popular, or court applause, or distaste, have no influence into any thing I do, in point of distribution of justice.

XII. Not to be solicitous what men will say or think; so long as I keep myself exactly, according to the rule of justice.

XIII. If, in criminals, it be a measuring cast, to incline to mercy and acquittal.+

XIV. In criminals that consist merely in words, when no more harm ensues, moderation is no injustice.

* DO ONE THING, ONLY, AT A TIME: this is the great secret of dispatch. +'In causes of life and death, judges ought, (as far as the law permitteth) n justice to remember mercy; and to cast a severe eye upon the example, but a merciful eye upon the person.'. . Lord Bacon: Essay 56. i. 181.