nce of dramatic rules.
Not an absence of dramatic cohesion. To its audience, for whom the story
of the Mission of Jesus still retained its freshness, each scene
unfolded a further stage in the rescue of man from the bondage of Hell.
It is not a mere matter of chronology. The order may be the order of the
sacred chronicle, but to these early audiences it was also the order of
a sacred drama. The 'Sacrifice of Isaac' is not merely the next event of
importance after the 'Flood': it is a dramatic forecast of the last
sacrifice of all, the Sacrifice of Christ. Even though we admit, as in
some cases we must, that the Plays are heterogeneous products of many
hands working separately, and therefore without dramatic regard for
other scenes, it is not unreasonable to suppose that when the official
text was decided upon, the several scenes may have been accommodated to
the interests of the whole. Moreover, the innate relationship of scenes
drawn from the Bible gives of itself a certain dramatic cohesion. Of the
so-called Dramatic Unities of Time and Place, however, there is no
suggestion; there is no unity of characters; there is no consideration
of what may be shocking, what pleasing as a spectacle. Whoever saw the
whole play through was hurried through thousands of years, was carried
from heaven to earth and down to hell; he beheld kings, shepherds, high
priests, executioners, playing their parts with equal effect and only
distinguished by the splendour or meanness of their apparel; he was a
witness to Satan's overthrow, to Abel's death, and was a spectator at
the flogging and crucifixion of Jesus. It is easy for those acquainted
with the later drama (of Greene especially) to see the direct line of
descent from these Miracles to the Shakespearian stage.

One interesting feature of these plays is the frequent appearance of
Angels and Devils on the stage. This accustomed the audience to the
entrance of the supernatural, in solid form, into the realm of the
natural; and paved the way for those most substantial ghosts which
showed themselves so much at home on the Elizabethan stage. We should be
not far wrong, perhaps, in describing the later introduction of the
Senecan Ghost into English drama as an innovation only in name: the
supernatural had been a familiar factor in heightening dramatic interest
long before _The Misfortunes of Arthur_ or _The Spanish Tragedy_ were
written.--Of the Devils even more may be said. Their picturesque