annas.

       By God, it is true; my servants remember them very well. To live

       more at their ease they have left off business; or perhaps they were in

       want of customers. Since that time they have followed Jesus, that wicked

       heretic, who has taught them magic; the fellow understands necromancy,

       and is the greatest magician alive, as far as Rome itself.

      St. John, attacked by the satellites of Domitian, amongst whom the author has placed Longinus and Patroclus, gives regular answers to their insulting interrogatories. Some of these I shall transcribe; but leave to the reader's conjectures the replies of the Saint, which are not difficult to anticipate.

      parthemia.

      You tell us strange things, to say there is but one God in three persons.

      longinus.

      Is it any where said that we must believe your old prophets (with whom your memory seems overburdened) to be more perfect than our gods?

      pathoclus. You must be very cunning to maintain impossibilities. Now listen to me: Is it possible that a virgin can bring forth a child without ceasing to be a virgin?

      domitian.

      Will you not change these foolish sentiments? Would you pervert us? Will you not convert yourself? Lords! you perceive now very clearly what an obstinate fellow this is! Therefore let him be stripped and put into a great caldron of boiling oil. Let him die at the Latin Gate.

      pesart.

      The great devil of hell fetch me if I don't Latinise him well. Never shall they hear at the Latin Gate any one sing so well as he shall sing.

      torneau.

      I dare venture to say he won't complain of being frozen.

      patroclus.

      Frita, run quick; bring wood and coals, and make the caldron ready.

      frita.

      I promise him, if he has the gout or the itch, he will soon get rid of them.

      St. John dies a perfect martyr, resigned to the boiling oil and gross jests of Patroclus and Longinus. One is astonished in the present times at the excessive absurdity, and indeed blasphemy, which the writers of these Moralities permitted themselves, and, what is more extraordinary, were permitted by an audience consisting of a whole town. An extract from the "Mystery of St. Dennis" is in the Duke de la Vallière's "Bibliothèque du Théâtre François depuis son Origine: Dresde, 1768."

      The emperor Domitian, irritated against the Christians, persecutes them, and thus addresses one of his courtiers:——

      Seigneurs Romains, j'ai entendu

       Que d'un crucifix d'un pendu,

       On fait un Dieu par notre empire,

       Sans ce qu'on le nous daigne dire.

      Roman lords, I understand

       That of a crucified hanged man

       They make a God in our kingdom,

       Without even deigning to ask our permission.

      He then orders an officer to seize on Dennis in France. When this officer arrives at Paris, the inhabitants acquaint him of the rapid and grotesque progress of this future saint:——

      Sire, il preche un Dieu à Paris

       Qui fait tout les mouls et les vauls.

       Il va à cheval sans chevauls.

       Il fait et defait tout ensemble.

       Il vit, il meurt, il sue, il tremble.

       Il pleure, il rit, il veille, et dort.

       Il est jeune et vieux, foible et fort.

       Il fait d'un coq une poulette.

       Il joue des arts de roulette,

       Ou je ne Sçais que ce peut être.

      Sir, he preaches a God at Paris

       Who has made mountain and valley.

       He goes a horseback without horses.

       He does and undoes at once.

       He lives, he dies, he sweats, he trembles.

       He weeps, he laughs, he wakes, and sleeps.

       He is young and old, weak and strong.

       He turns a cock into a hen.

       He knows how to conjure with cup and ball,

       Or I do not know who this can be.

      Another of these admirers says, evidently alluding to the rite of baptism——

      Sire, oyez que fait ce fol prestre:

       Il prend de l'yaue en une escuele,

       Et gete aux gens sur le cervele,

       Et dit que partants sont sauvés!

      Sir, hear what this mad priest does:

       He takes water out of a ladle,

       And, throwing it at people's heads,

       He says that when they depart they are saved!

      This piece then proceeds to entertain the spectators with the tortures of St. Dennis, and at length, when more than dead, they mercifully behead him: the Saint, after his decapitation, rises very quietly, takes his head under his arm, and walks off the stage in all the dignity of martyrdom.

      It is justly observed by Bayle on these wretched representations, that while they prohibited the people from meditating on the sacred history in the book which contains it in all its purity and truth, they permitted them to see it on the theatre sullied with a thousand gross inventions, which were expressed in the most vulgar manner and in a farcical style. Warton, with his usual elegance, observes, "To those who are accustomed to contemplate the great picture of human follies which the unpolished ages of Europe hold up to our view, it will not appear surprising that the people who were forbidden to read the events of the sacred history in the Bible, in which they are faithfully and beautifully related, should at the same time be permitted to see them represented on the stage disgraced with the grossest improprieties, corrupted with inventions and additions of the most ridiculous kind, sullied with impurities, and expressed in the language and gesticulations of the lowest farce." Elsewhere he philosophically