The office of Lord Chancellor developed into one of primary importance in the time of Edward I., when, from being but a member of the _Aula Regis_, he became the president of a separate court, a Court of Equity. Law and Equity have, to a certain extent, been antagonistic ever since the days when kings were advised by clerics and opposed by lawyers. In the eyes of the latter Equity was often, as Selden says, "a roguish thing," untrustworthy, and largely dependent upon the conscience of individual Chancellors, "and as that is larger or narrower, so is Equity." But however exaggerated the claim of Equity to be the "law of God," "the law of nature," or "law of reason,"[157] it has at least vindicated its position in the statutory enactment that, where there is a conflict, its rules are to prevail over those of the Common Law.[158] [157] "The Fyrste Dyaloge in Englys, between a Doctoure of Dyvynyte and a Student in the Lawes of England" (1539). [158] Judicature Act of 1873, section 24. The conscience of some, at least, of England's early Lord Chancellors possessed peculiarly plastic qualities. They themselves were not infrequently ignorant of the principles of law. Occasionally, too, their conduct and character were such that it is hard to imagine them as the fount of Equity or justice. Lord Wriothesley, Chancellor in 1544, combined legal incompetence with the most intense religious bigotry.[159] Chancellor Sir Francis Bacon, philosopher, writer, and lawyer, whose name is one of the most famous in English history, was forced to plead guilty to a charge of "corruption and neglect," for which offence he was deprived of the Great Seal, fined a sum of £40,000, and imprisoned in the Tower. A hundred years later Lord Chancellor Macclesfield was impeached and fined for corrupt practices with regard to the sale of Masterships in Chancery; while the brutal Jeffreys, stained with the blood of hundreds of innocent and defenceless persons, was another Lord Chancellor whose presence added nothing to the prestige of the Woolsack.[160] [159] His barbarous treatment of the wretched Anne Askew is notorious. For denying that the sacramental blood and wine lost their material elements after consecration, Anne was condemned to be tortured, and the Lord Chancellor with his own hands stretched the rack on which the unfortunate woman was bound, in the hope of extracting a confession. It must, however, be admitted that Wriothesley's heart was not entirely impervious to emotion, for when, as Lord Chancellor, he announced the death of Henry VIII. in the House of Lords, he could not refrain from bursting into tears. [160] He was, however, an able lawyer, and reserved his orgies for private life. "If my Lord Jefferies exceeded the bounds of temperance now and then in an evening, it does not follow that he was drunk on the bench or in council." (Campbell's "Lives," vol. iii. p. 595 _note_.)