ance.

Scripture histories was carried on for several days. In the reign of Richard II., A.D. 1391, the parish clerks of London put forth a play at Skinner's Wells, near Smithfield, which continued three days; the king, queen, and many of the nobility being present at the performIn the succeeding reign, that of Henry IV., A.D. 1409, another play was acted at the same place, and lasted eight days. This drama began with the creation of the world, and contained the greater part of the history of the Old and New Testament. It does not appear to have been honoured with the royal presence, but was well attended by most of the nobility and gentry of the realm.

The last of these performances no doubt bore a close analogy to the mystery entitled Corpus Christi or Ludus Coventriæ, the Coventry Play; transcripts of which, nearly, if not altogether, coeval with the time of its representation, are yet in existence. The prologue of this curious drama is delivered by three persons who speak alternately, and are called vexillators. It contains the argument of the several pageants, or acts, that constitute the piece, and they amount to no less than forty; and every one of these acts consists of a detached subject from Holy Writ, beginning with the creation of the universe, and concluding with the last judgment. In the first pageant, or act, the Deity is represented, seated on His throne by Himself, and delivering a speech of forty lines. The angels then enter, singing from the Church Service, "To Thee all angels cry aloud, &c." Lucifer next makes his appearance, and desires to know if the hymn they sang was in honour of God, or in honour of him? The good angels readily reply "in honour of God;" the evil angels incline to worship Lucifer, and he presumes to seat himself in the throne of the Deity, who commands him to depart from heaven to hell, which dreadful sentence he is compelled to obey, and, with his wicked associates, descends to the lower regions. This play was acted by the Friars, Minors or Mendicant Friars, of Coventry, and commenced on Corpus Christi day, whence it received its title. For the performance of these plays they had theatres for the several scenes, very large and high, placed upon wheels and drawn to all the eminent parts of the city for the better advantage of the spectators. Mysteries often consisted of single subjects, and made but one performance. In the Bodlean Library two may be met with; the subject of one, the conversion of St. Paul, and of the other, the casting out of the devils from Mary Magdalene. Notwithstanding the seriousness of the sub

jects, it seems clear they were not exhibited without a portion of pantomimical fun to make them palatable to the vulgar taste; and indeed the length and the dulness of the speeches required some such assistance to enliven them and keep the spectators in good humour. This may be the reason why the mysteries are in general much shorter than the modern plays. Beelzebub seems to have been the principal comic actor, assisted by his merry troop of under devils, who, with variety of noises, strange gestures, and contortions of body, excited the laughter of the populace.

The ecclesiastical plays, as already observed, were usually performed in churches or chapels, upon temporary scaffolds erected for that purpose, and sometimes, when a sufficient number of clerical actors were not to be procured, the churchwardens and chief parishioners caused the plays to be acted by the secular players, in order to collect money for defraying church expenses; and in many instances they borrowed the theatrical apparel from other parishes when they had none of their own. Acting plays in churches was much declaimed against by the religious writers of the sixteenth century; and Bonner, Bishop of London, in 1542, the twenty-third year of the reign of Henry VIII., issued a proclamation to the clergy of his diocese, prohibiting all manner of common plays, games, or interludes to be played, set forth, or declared within their churches and chapels. In Cornwall the miracle plays were differently represented. They were not performed in the churches, nor under any kind of cover, but in the open air, as we learn from Carew, whose words upon this subject are as follows:-" The guary-miracle--in English, a miracle play-is a kind of interlude compiled in Cornish out of some Scripture history with the grossness which accompanied the Romanes Vetus Comedia. For representing it they raise an earthen amphitheatre in some open field, having the diameter of the inclined plane from forty to fifty feet. The country people flock from all sides, many miles off, to hear and see it, for they have therein devils and devices to delight as well the eye as the ear. The players con not their parts without book, but are prompted by one called the ordinary, who followeth at their backs with the book in his hand and telleth them what to say. In the Harleian Library is preserved a miracle play of this kind in the Cornish language, written by William Gordon, A.D., 1611, accompanied with an English translation. It begins with the Creation, and ends with Noah's flood. Noah himself concludes the play with an address.

to the spectators, desiring them to come to-morrow, betimes, to see another play on the redemption of man; and then, speaking to the musicians, says, "Musicians, play to us, that we may dance together, as is the manner of the sport." Such a ridiculous jumble of religion and buffoonery might well excite the indignation of serious people. This species of amusement continued to be exhibited in Cornwall long after the abolition of the miracles and moralities in the other parts of the kingdom, and when the establishment of regular plays had taken place.

Before closing, a few remarks should be offered on the moral influence of these exhibitions. None can fail to be impressed with the feeling that, so far as these plays were acted in scenes of sacred worship, they must necessarily have very greatly tended to diminish the sense of reverence which should always be connected with the building where we meet before God, and where it is so desirable that the mind should be elevated above all associations that would lead to trifling. How could it be otherwise than that, at times of stated service, a feeling of the ludicrous should intrude itself into the minds of those who might desire to be affected with better influences ?-while, of course, this would be allowed and cherished by the greater number of the undevout. Nor can we doubt that this would be increased and intensified, as the officials, vestments, &c., would be identified with the recent players and performances. Restraining power for every-day life must have been weakened, and the general spirit of the people correspondingly lowered. Our Lord said, "Make not my Father's House a house of merchandise." Much more might He say, "Make it not a house of trifling and amusement."

As to the exhibitions themselves, they must have formed a grievous degradation of the subjects they presumed to treat, stripping the great Scripture facts of their solemnity and teaching power, and not a little holding up to ridicule realities that should have been attended with far different feelings.

It cannot but blunt the mind to the deeper impressions that are desired, when sacred subjects are at any time thus brought down from the lofty position they ought to hold. The historical imagination of each may deal with them; but, when presented in outward show, they cannot but be vulgarised and held up to contempt. Especially this is true of the greatest subject of all. We can never think of the act of human redemption being represented in the form of a “play,” without a feeling of shrinking and a sense of profanity.

It seems to us repelling that the most solemn, sublime, and pathetic of all events should be thus dealt with. Such a matter is too high for scenic treatment. The physical would eclipse the spiritual, and the great reality of the atonement be overlooked in the painful witnessing of simulated bodily tortures. Some, speaking of the Passion Play at Ober-Ammergau, have described the effect upon themselves as not unpleasing, and that tears and silence bespoke the sympathy of the audience. All this must have been purely sensuous. Who can believe that any returned from the scene with a more vivid spiritual conception of the work that 1850 years ago was accomplished on behalf of our race, or with any greater disposition to repent of and forsake the sins that crucified the Lord of glory? We can only express our satisfaction that attempts made both in America and in this country to introduce the German drama have met with forcible and effective discountenance, and we trust public feeling will ever be strong enough to secure prevention. Never may the irreligious tendencies of the day be helped by such a travesty of the aweinspiring solemnity; and never may the religious sensibilities of the country be wounded by what would be felt to be not only an offence to good taste, but an insult to all that we feel holiest and most mysterious in our world's history.

An Eclipse and its Lesson.

ONDAY, the 15th of March, 1858, had been anxiously anticipated by astronomers; but, to their disappointment, it dawned in clouded obscurity, and it was soon evident that the phenomenon, which so many were bent upon

observing, would baffle their designs. Thick, heavy, and almost unbroken clouds shaded the whole firmament; and, but for the increasing darkness, slowly deepening, and then, having attained its completeness, as slowly passing away, there would have been no perceptible difference between this and any ordinary morning of gloom. Behind that range of ebon clouds, however, one of those profoundly interesting, and, to common observers, wonderful occur

rences was taking place, which testify to the order of the universe, and to the wisdom and power of its Creator. Some hours after the eclipse was over, the majestic luminary, as if to assert with gladness his triumphant authority, broke through the vapours, and dispersed the clouds. Such was the day in the West of England. But we leave those aspects of the event in which science was specially interested, to note the peculiar religious lesson which it supplied.

The day was drawing to its close when two friends who were dear to each other, but whose business engagements kept them apart during its earlier hours, met, as they often did, for an evening stroll. Their conversation naturally adverted to the subject of the eclipse, and their regret was mutual that a clouded atmosphere had prevented their survey of the beautiful phenomenon. The transition was equally natural to themes of higher import; for they were young men of genuine and growing piety. How easy it is to find suitable themes for spiritual intercourse, and to glide into instructive and refreshing talk about them, when the heart has its blessed preferences for them! Such themes are never wanting to the spiritually minded; nor are they ever without their charm. "Whosoever shall drink of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him, a well of water springing up into everlasting life." "Were you not struck with our minister's choice of a text yesterday morning?" said Leonard.

"In what way?" replied his friend Percy. "I thought it a most edifying discourse, and much enjoyed the truth propounded, especially as I found it so applicable to my recent experience."

"Yes," said Leonard, " and to the experience of all who know much of the conflicts and sorrows of human life; but more particularly to the experience of those who are familiar with the temptations and hardships and chastenings of the Christian warfare. But what specially struck me was the suggestiveness of the text taken in connection with the event of to-day which we were all anticipating. I thought of the coming eclipse at once when our minister announced the words: "I will wait upon the Lord, that hideth His face from Jacob, and I will look for Him."* Indeed, during the reading of the chapter previously, the analogy vividly presented itself to my mind.

• Isaiah viii. 17.