much blood in them as was in those of the ancients. [3] But it is not only the difficulty and labor which

Cowper in the Task, Book III, 270th, thus introduces the subject:

"The only amaranthine flower on earth

Is virtue, the only lasting treasure, truth.

But what is truth? 'twas Pilate's question put
To Truth itself, that deigned him no reply.
And wherefore? will not God impart his light
To them that ask it?-Freely; 'tis his joy,
His glory, and his nature to impart;
But to the proud, uncandid, insincere
Or negligent inquirer, not a spark."

That no answer was returned by our Saviour is here attributed by Cowper, not to the immediate departure of Pilate from his presence, thus giving him no opportunity to reply, but to the state of Pilate's mind, which was adverse to the reception of truth, at least of such truth as our Saviour had referred to. In answer to Pilate's question, Cowper thus continues :—

What's that which brings contempt upon a book
And him that writes it, though the style be neat,
The method clear, and argument exact?
That makes a minister in holy things
The joy of many and the dread of more,

His name a theme for praise and for reproach?
That while it gives us worth in God's account,
Depreciates and undoes us in our own?
What pearl is it that rich men cannot buy,
That learning is too proud to gather up,
But which the poor and the despised of all
Seck and obtain, and often find unsought?
Tell me, and I will tell thee, what is truth."

Dean Alford, on the passage, writes thus: "Pilate had no ear for truth. His celebrated question is perhaps more the result of indifferentism than of scepticism; it expresses, not without scoff and irony, a conviction that truth can never be found, and is an apt representative of the state of the polite Gentile mind at the time of the Lord's coming."

Archbishop Whately's view of the matter is as follows :

Any one of Bacon's acuteness, or of a quarter of it, might easily have perceived, had he at all attended to the context of

men take in finding out the truth; nor, again, that when it is found, it imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth

the narrative, that never was any one less in a jesting mood than Pilate on this occasion. He was anxious to release Jesus; which must have been from a knowledge of the superhuman powers of Him he had to do with. A man so unscrupulous as Pilate is universally admitted to have been, could not have felt any anxiety merely from a dislike of injustice and, therefore, his conduct is one confirmation of the reality of the numerous miracles Jesus wrought. They, and they only, must have filled him with dread of the consequences of doing any wrong to such a person, and probably, also, inspired him with a hope of furthering some ambitious views of his own, by taking part with one whom he (in common with so many others), expected to be just about to assume temporal dominion, and to enforce his claim by resistless power. He tries to make Him proclaim Himself a King; and when Jesus does this, but adds that his kingdom is not of this world, still Pilate catches at the word, and says, 'Art thou a King, then?' Jesus then proceeds to designate who should be his subjects: 'Every one that is of the Truth heareth my words:' as much as to say, 'I claim a kingdom not over the Israelite by race; not over all whom subjugate by force, or who will submit to me through fear or interest, but over the votaries of truth-those who are of the truth-those who are willing to receive whatever shall be proved true, and to follow wherever that shall lead.' And Pilate is at a loss to see what this has to do with his inquiry. 'I am asking you about your claims to empire, and you tell me about truth: What has truth to do with the question?'"

can

Jesting: Give the synonymes and distinguish their meaning.

[2.] Giddiness: unsteadiness as to beliet or opinions. To fix a belief: to be bound by a fixed belief, or settled principles. Affecting, &c.: liking the use of free-will, &c.

"But this proud man affects imperial sway."-Dryden.

Discoursing: discoursive, discursive, talking, communicative,

rambling, ranging over a wide field.

Veins-blood: Under

these figurative terms, what is intended to be expressed?

bring lies in favor; but a natural though corrupt love [4] of the lie itself. One of the later schools of the Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that men should love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as with poets; nor for advantage, as with the merchant; but for the [5] lie's sake. But I cannot tell; this same truth is

[3.] Bacon (in his "Wisdom of the Ancients," p. 251) speaks of Democritus as complaining, that all things are abstruse; that we know nothing; that falsehood is strangely joined and twisted along with truth. Imposeth: restraint is to be supplied— layeth restraint upon, &c. The Latin form, as given by Bacon, is 'Cogitationibus imponitur captivitas,' i. e. captivity is laid upon men's thoughts.

[4.] One of the later schools: that probably of the "New Academy," which discussed this very question of Pilate's, and whose conclusion was that men have no criterion by which to form a satisfactory judgment.

stitute an equivalent clause.

What should be in it: SubWith poets: i. e. as the lie of the poets. Does this refer to poets themselves, or to their productions? Is the word 'lies' used in the same sense in reference to the poet, and to the merchant? With the merchant: i. e. the lie of the merchant. In how comprehensive a sense does our author use the word 'lie'? Compare §§ 7, 8, 9.

[5.] The Latin translation presents the subject more clearly than the English original. Indeed Bacon seems to have a more perfect command of the Latin than of the English in many parts of these Essays. The connection of thought is more close and perfect. It is so in the present instance. 'Sed nescio quomodo, veritas ista (utpote nuda et manifesta lux diurna), personatas hujus mundi fabulas, ineptiasque non tam magnifice et eleganter ostendit, quam tædæ, lucernæque nocturnæ.' Which may be rendered: 'But, I know not how, that truth (as a naked and open daylight) does not show the dramatic plays and fooleries of this world so magnificently and elegantly as nocturnal lamps.'

Same: What is the force of this adjective

a naked and open daylight, that doth not show the masks, and mummeries and triumphs of the world, half

here? Point out the metaphor in this sentence. As the sentence stands in the text, what is the object of tell?

Masque: Give the synonyme. For example, 'Comus. A masque presented at Ludlow Castle, 1634.'

Under the classical name of Ludi masqueradings were frequently performed at the English court; and in the inventories of the time of Henry IV are found entries for suits of buckram and visors, to represent men, women, birds, beasts and angels, according to the capricious fancies of the wearers. These practices formed a usual portion of the national festivities at Christmas. At a later period these performances rose in dignity, possessing an intermediate character between the masque and the pantomime. These sports were especially cultivated by Henry VIII, and his favorite Wolsey, who found in them abundant opportunity to display their magnificence and taste. Sometimes, in an exhibition of this kind, a moving rock, or mountain, decorated with trees, flowers and herbage, slowly entered the hall, and, after remaining stationary for a few moments, opened and poured from its recesses a gay throng of knights and ladies, or allegorical personages, who danced and sang, or performed some interlude before the noble guests. After the play was ended the actors returned to their place of concealment, the gap closed, and the towering pageant, moving upon its hidden wheels, departed as it had entered. Besides these exhibitions, regular masquerades so early as the time of Henry VII began to form a court amusement, and in the reigns of Henry VIII and Elizabeth, were carried to a high state of improvement. Craik's Hist. Eng., Vol. II, pp. 255, 877. Compare the above with the note on § 16, Essay XIX.

Triumphs: public shows. Give the original and classic use of the word. Daintily: exquisitely, splendidly.

"The Duke exceeded in that his leg was daintily formed."-Walton.

The masques, &c.: An extract from Bacon's Essay on 'Masques and Triumphs,' may serve to throw some light on what he has here written: 'Let the scenes abound with light, especially colored and mixed; and let the masquers, or any other that are

[6] so stately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that showeth

to come down from the scene, have some motions upon the scene itself before coming down; for it draws the eye strangely and makes it with great pleasure to desire to see that which it cannot perfectly discern. The colors that show best by candlelight are white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water green; and ouches or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so they are of most glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost and not discerned.'

It is reported that Bacon always manifested great fondness for splendor and pageantry, and every thing that could catch the eye and make a display of wealth and magnificence.

There is a passage in a recent volume of Mrs. Charles, entitled "The Draytons and the Davenants," which throws some light upon this part of Bacon's Essay. It is included in a conversation between two young girls, Olive Drayton and Lettice Davenant :--

"I cannot think what is not true, just because the sun shines and the birds sing," said I, "and I certainly cannot think any one good because they call me good, or goodness itself. How can I, Lettice? How can I believe a thing because I wish to believe it ?"

"Truth, truth!" said she, a little petulantly, truth and duty, and right and wrong, I wish those cold words were not so often on your lips. There are others so much warmer and more beautiful-nobleness and generosity, and loyalty and devotion-these are the things I love. I like sunshine, glowing morning and evening like rubies and opals, veiling the distance at noon with its own glorious haze. I hate always to see every thing exactly as it is, even beautiful things; and ugly things I never will see, if I can help it."

"I love to see everything exactly as it is," said I, "I want, and I pray, to see every thing as it is. And in the end I am sure that is the way to see the real beauty of every thing that is in the world. For God has made it, and not the devil. And therefore we need never be afraid to look into things. And I shall always think truth and duty the most beautiful words in the world." Pp. 185, 186.