And holy secrets of his mighty hand
Whose cunning tunes the musick of my soul,
It would content me, father, first to learn
How the Eternal fram'd the firmament;
Which bodies lead their influence by fire;
And which are fill'd with hoary winter's use:
What sign is rainy; and what star is fair
Why by the rules of true proportion

The

year is still divided into months,

;

The months to days, the days to certain hours;
What fruitful race shall fill the future world;
Or for what time shall this round building stand;
What magistrates, what kings shall keep in awe
Men's minds with bridles of th' eternal law.

David. Wade not too far, my boy, in waves too deep:

The feeble eyes of our aspiring thoughts

Behold things present, and record things past;
But things to come exceed our human reach,
And are not painted yet in angels' eyes:

For those, submit thy sense, and say-Thou power,
That now art framing of the future world,
Know'st all to come, not by the course of heaven,

By frail conjectures of inferiour signs,

By monstrous floods, by flights and flocks of birds,
By bowels of a sacrificed beast,

Or by the figures of some hidden art;
But by a true and natural presage,
Laying the ground and perfect architect
Of all our actions now before thine eyes,
From Adam to the end of Adam's seed.-—

O heav'n, protect my weakness with thy strength;
So look on me that I may view thy face,

And see these secrets written in thy brows.-
O sun, come dart thy rays upon my moon,
That now mine eyes, eclipsed to the earth,
May brightly be refin'd and shine to heaven:
Transform me from this flesh, that I may live
Before my death, regenerate with thee.-
O thou great God, ravish my earthly sprite,
That for the time a more than human skill
May feed the organons of all my sense;

That, when I think, thy thoughts may be my guide,
And, when I speak, I may be made by choice
The perfect echo of thy heav'nly voice.

Thus say, my son, and thou shalt learn them all.

Salomon. A secret fury ravisheth my soul,
Lifting my mind above her human bounds;
And, as the eagle, roused from her stand
With violent hunger, tow'ring in the air,
Seizeth her feather'd prey, and thinks to feed,
But seeing then a cloud beneath her feet,
Lets fall the fowl, and is emboldened
With eyes intentive to bedare the sun,
And flyeth close unto his stately sphere;
So Salomon mounted on the burning wings.
Of zeal divine, lets fall his mortal food,
And cheers his senses with celestial air,
Treads in the golden starry labyrinth,
And holds his eyes fix'd on Jehova's brows.
Good father, teach me further what to do."

And again-David is informed of the death of his son Absalon.

"David. Hath Absalon sustain'd the stroke of death?

Die, David, for the death of Absalon,

And make these cursed news the bloody darts,

That through his bowels rip thy wretched breast.
Hence, David, walk the solitary woods,

And in some cedar's shade, the thunder slew,
And fire from heav'n hath made his branches black,
Sit mourning the decease of Absalon ;

Against the body of that blasted plant
In thousand shivers break thy ivory lute,
Hanging thy stringless harp upon his boughs,
And through the hollow sapless sounding trunk
Bellow the torments that perplex thy soul.
There let the winds sit sighing till they burst;
Let tempest, muffled with a cloud of pitch,
Threaten the forests with her hellish face,
And, mounted fiercely on her iron wings,
Rend up the wretched engine by the roots
That held my dearest Absalon to death.
Then let them toss my broken lute to heaven,
Even to his hands that beats me with the strings,
To show how sadly his poor shepherd sings."

The subject of this sacred drama seems to have elevated the genius of Peele, and to have embued him with an oriental exuberance of imagery. The beauty of the diction, and the stateliness and harmony of the versification, form a delightful

contrast to the extracts with which we have thought it necessary to occupy the former part of this article. The dawn of the Mysteries indeed was misty and obscure, their meridian was little less so, but in the eventide of their existence the mists and clouds cleared off, and they set in a glorious flood of golden light, which illuminated the sky long after their departure.

The Moralities, as well as those compositions which partially or not at all partook of their nature, were occasionally denominated Interludes. It was originally our intention to have comprised in this article the plays or interludes of John Heywood, published so early as 1533; but, considering that they do not in fact belong either to the class of Mysteries or Moralities, although there is as little pretence to class them with the regular drama, we have thought it best to postpone our notice of them to the succeeding number-more especially, as he was amongst the first who left the old beaten track of the Mysteries and Moralities, and attempted to delineate real characters and living manners. In our next article on this subject, we shall, after a few preliminary remarks and extracts, enter upon the pleasant discussion of the first specimens of our regular dramatic literature.

END OF VOL. I.

Maurice, Printer, Fenchurch-Street.