them, but they maintained the taste for scenic performances, and, no doubt, they drew away from the plough or the carpenter’s bench many a lad whose heart yearned for the music and the twinkling feet, the bright dresses, and the laughing life of these masterless vagabonds and lawless girls. But in England nothing was written or invented: it is to the Church and not to the show folk that we owe the modern drama. And it began with the laudable desire—nay, the necessity—of making people, in whom the imagination was dull, realise the doctrines of the Church. The service was in Latin, a language not comprehended any longer even in Italy; nobody could read; there were no books for them if they could: preaching, of which there was little before the Friars came, could not effect much: mural painting was not even begun: how then were the people to be taught the leading events, the foundations, in the History of the Christian Faith? Only by some kind of dramatic representation. Thus, at Christmas-time it was easy—nay, praiseworthy—to build a stall for oxen in the church; to fit it with a manger; to invite all the people to see for themselves, as if they were alive, the Virgin Mother with the Infant Christ, Joseph, the Magi, the angels, and the shepherds. On Good Friday a great crucifix was set up and solemnly lowered into the grave. On Easter Day the stone of the sepulchre was rolled away and our Lord came forth; after Easter He walked with the pilgrims of Emmaus; He appeared to the disciples. At Ascension He mounted visibly to Heaven in the sight of all. So also, He raised Lazarus; He healed the sick; He washed the feet. When the simple people looked on and saw such miracles who could doubt? Nay, who could ever forget? “There is the grave, with Lazarus in it—look at him! The grave-clothes are swathed about him, his face is white, he is dead, there is even to another sense the unmistakable proof of death. Here comes the Lord Himself. Tell me not that it is Brother Ambrose—it is the Lord Himself! Who but the Lord can bring a dead man to life? It is the Very Christ!” So they went away marvelling. These things were elementary; but they offered scope for acting, and they offered food for the imagination. Of course they became more and more realistic. The priests’ robes were exchanged for suitable dresses; the chorister, who represented an angel, added wings to his white surplice, and carried a harp and wore a crown. And the field of the drama widened. It included at length the whole scheme of Redemption from the Fall of Lucifer to the Day of Judgment. [Illustration: NORTH-WEST VIEW OF THE RUINS OF THE BISHOP OF WINCHESTER’S PALACE, SOUTHWARK]