knew not;—I, informing 'him, asked him again how he thought to be saved; he answered he could not tell, yet thought that was a harder question than the other;-I told him that the way to salvation was by Jesus Christ, God-man, who, as He was man, shed His blood for us on the crosse, etc.;-Oh, sir, said he, I think I heard of that man you speak of once in a play at Kendall called Corpus Christi Play, where there was a man on a tree and blood ran downe, etc., and after he professed that he could not remember that ever he heard of salvation by Jesus Christ but in that play." It is impossible to say to what extent even the Scriptural allusions in the works of Shakespeare himself may not be attributed to recollections of such performances, for in one instance at least the reference by the great dramatist is to the history as represented in those plays, not to that recorded in the New Testament. The English mysteries, indeed, never lost their position as religious instructors, a fact which, viewed in connection with that of a widely-spread affection for the old religion, appears to account for their long continuance in a practically unaltered state while other forms of the drama were being developed by their side. From the fourteenth century until the termination of Shakespeare's youthful days they remained the simple poetic versions in dialogue of religious incidents of various kinds, enlivened by the occasional admission of humorous scenes. In some few instances the theological narrative was made subservient to the comic action, but as a rule the mysteries were designed to bring before the audience merely the personages and events of religious history. Allegorical characters had been occasionally introduced, and about the middle of the fifteenth

century there appeared a new kind of English dramatic composition apparently borrowed from France, in which the personages were either wholly or almost exclusively of that description. When the chief object of a performance of this nature, like that of the Cradle of Security previously described, was to inculcate a moral lesson, it was sometimes called either a Moral or a Moralplay, terms which continued in use till the seventeenth century, and were licentiously applied by some early writers to any dramas which were of an ethical or educational character. Morals were not only performed in Shakespeare's day, but continued to be a then recognized form of dramatic composition. Some of them

nearly as simple and inartificial as the mysteries, but others were not destitute of originality, or even of the delineation of character and manners. There was, however, no consecutive or systematic development of either the mystery into the moral or the moral into the historical and romantic drama, although there are examples in which the specialities of each are curiously intermingled. Each species of the early English drama appears for the most part to have pursued its own separate and independent career.

In April, 1569, the poet's sister, Joan, was born. She was baptized on the fifteenth of that month, and, by a prevalent fashion which has created so much perplexity in discussions on longevities, was named after an elder child of the same parents who was born in 1558 and had died some time previously to the arrival of her younger sister. Joan was then so common a name that it is hazardous to venture on a conjecture respecting the child's sponsor, but she was very likely so called after her ma

ternal aunt, Mrs. Lambert of Barton-on-the-Heath. John Shakespeare's term of office as High Bailiff expired in the September of the same year, 1569, his successor being one Robert Salisbury, a substantial yeoman then residing in a large house on the eastern side of Church Street.

Although there is no certain information on the subject, it may perhaps be assumed that, at this time, boys usually entered the Free School at the age of seven, according to the custom followed at a later period. If so, the poet commenced his studies there in the spring of the year 1571, and unless its system of instruction differed essentially from that pursued in other establishments of a similar character, his earliest knowledge of Latin was derived from two well-known books of the time, the Acci dence and the Sententia Pueriles. From the first of these works the improvised examination of Master Page in the Merry Wives of Windsor is so almost verbally remembered, that one might imagine that the William of the scene was a resuscitation of the poet at school. Recollections of the same book are to be traced in other of his plays. The Sententia Pueriles was, in all probability, the little manual by the aid of which he first learned to construe Latin, for in one place, at least, he all but literally translates a brief passage, and there are in his plays several adaptations of its sentiments. It was then sold for a penny, equivalent to about our present shilling, and contains a large collection of brief sentences collected from a variety of authors, with a distinct selection of moral and religious paragraphs, the latter intended for the use of boys on Saint's Days.

The best authorities unite in telling us that the poet imbibed a certain amount of Latin at school, but that his

acquaintance with that language was, throughout his life, of a very limited character. It is not probable that scholastic learning was ever congenial to his tastes, and it should be recollected that books in most parts of the country were then of very rare occurrence. Lilly's Grammar and a few classical works, chained to the desks of the Free School, were probably the only volumes of the kind to be found at Stratford-on-Avon. Exclusive of Bibles, Church Services, Psalters, and education manuals, there were certainly not more than two or three dozen books, if so many, in the whole town. The copy of the blackletter English history, so often depicted as well thumbed by Shakespeare in his father's parlor, never existed out of the imagination. Fortunately for us, the youthful dramatist had, excepting in the school-room, little opportunity of studying any but a grander volume, the infinite book of nature, the pages of which were ready to be unfolded to him in the lane and field, amongst the copses of Snitterfield, by the side of the river or that of his uncle's hedgerows.

Henry Shakespeare, the poet's uncle, resided on a large farm near Snitterfield church. The house has long disappeared, but two of the old enclosures that he rented, Burmans and Red Hill, are still to be observed on the right of the highway to Luscombe, with the ancient boundaries, and under the same names, by which they were distinguished in the days of Shakespeare's early youth. Nearly every one of the boy's connections, as well as his uncle Henry, was a farmer. There was the brother of Agnes Arden, Alexander Webbe of Snitterfield, who died in 1573, appointing "to be my overseers to see this my last will and testament performed, satisfied and ful

filled, according to my will, John Shackespere of Stretford-upon-Aven, John Hill of Bearley, and for theyre paynes taken I geve them xij.d. a pece." Henry Shakespeare was present at the execution of this will, and there is other evidence that the poet's family were on friendly terms with the Hills of Bearley, who were connections by marriage with the Ardens. Then there were the Lamberts of Barton-on-the-Heath, the Stringers of Bearley, the Etkyns of Wilmecote, all of whom were engaged in agricultural business, and Agnes Arden, who was still alive and farming at Wilmecote.

On March 11, 1574, "Richard, sonne to Mr. John Shakspeer," was baptized at Stratford, the Christian name of the infant having probably been adopted in recollection of his grandfather of Snitterfield, who had been removed by the hand of death some years previously. Independently of this new baby, there were now four other children,—Anne, who was in her third, Joan in her fifth, Gilbert in his eighth, and the poet in his tenth year. The father's circumstances were not yet on the wane, so there is every reason for believing that the eldest son, blessed with, as it has been well termed, the precious gift of sisters to a loving boy, returned to a happy fire-side after he had been tormented by the disciplinarian routine that was destined to terminate in the acquisition of "small Latin and less Greek."

The defective classical education of the poet is not, however, to be attributed to the conductors of the local seminary, for enough of Latin was taught to enable the more advanced pupils to display familiar correspondence in that language. It was really owing to his being removed from school long before the usual age, his father