III.

HAMLET.

HAMLET is the prince of poetical philosophers. To philosophise is the habit of his mind. To reflect and reason upon every thing and every person that comes within his sphere,— to ponder upon every event that occurs, to consider and reconsider each circumstance that arises,-is with him a part of his nature. He can no more help philosophising than he can help breathing; it is his mental atmosphere, as the air is his vital one. He philosophises upon his mother; upon his mistress; upon his friend; upon the king; upon the old courtier, Polonius; upon the water-fly, Osric; upon "the sponge," Rosencrantz; and upon the spy, Guildenstern. He even philosophises upon himself, and upon himself most of all. Yet, with all this, as the poet has managed it, there is nothing dictatorial or dogmatical in Hamlet; for Hamlet is a gentleman-a more accomplished, a more courteous gentleman than he, is not to be found in all Shakespeare, (and, I was going to say,) or anywhere else. Hamlet is not either dry or prolix. He is not didactic; for his reflections are rather for his own behoof than delivered as precepts for others. He is not sententious; for his words flow on in the shape of reverie and musing rather than in that of terse, brief phrases, uttered for

effect. His moral philosophy is not studied; it has no rule, no set or specific rule, but is a rich emanation of his own spiritual being-flowing from his profound heart, his noble mind, his fertile imagination, his great and lofty soul. He moralises almost unconsciously; so naturally, so spontaneously do his ideas take that form.

How artistically has Shakespeare made Hamlet fall into that habitual mode of parlance, even in the very hour of awaiting the dread apparition on the platform at midnight. On his first coming in,-when we may imagine that they have all dropped into silence, as they approach the haunted spot, -Hamlet complains of the chill night breeze

--

"The air bites shrewdly; it is

very cold."

But no sooner has the cannon sounded which announces the royal carousal, and the voice of his friend Horatio is heard, asking whether this be a custom, than the Prince answers in the philosophic strain natural to him :

"Ay, marry is it :

But to my mind,-though I am native here,
And to the manner born,-it is a 'custom'

More honour'd in the breach than the observance.

This heavy-headed revel, east and west,

Makes us traduced, and tax'd of other nations:

They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase

Soil our addition; and indeed it takes

From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute.

So, oft it chances in particular men,

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin,)
By the overgrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners;-that these men,-

Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,—
Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo,)

Shall in the general censure take corruption
From that particular fault :-The dram of base
Doth all the noble sustance often d'out,

To his own scandal.

"Hor.

[Enter Ghost.] Look, my lord,—it comes!

"Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" This is wonderfully striking; and as characteristic as it is striking. No one like Shakespeare for consistency in character, and for making that consistency a heightener of his dramatic and poetical effects, as well as of his portraitureeffects. Monsieur Guizot, in his clever book upon our great English poet, "Shakespeare and his Times," declares unity of impression" to be the great law of Shakespeare's dramatic art; and the marvellous harmony and consistency in his characters forms one portion of this "unity of impression."

Hamlet's proneness to soliloquy bespeaks the` reflective man; and it not only serves to denote his philosophic mood, but it paints the perturbed condition of his spirit under the onerous task of revenge, imposed upon him by fate. Inexpressibly affecting is that eagerness he betrays to get by himself, to feel free and unwatched,-that he may revolve the thoughts of his burthened heart at liberty. We feel the load taken from him in those words of his, "Now I am alone," when Polonius, the players, and the two sycophant lords, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, leave him. And also, afterwards, on the journey, when he bids the two latter prying personages "Go on before," that he may indulge his reverie upon meeting with the captain of Fortinbras's forces. The vast responsibility laid by the Ghost upon him constantly rises upon his tide of thought, haunting, and urging him to

E

his settled course of action. When all the company have gone on,-soldiers and courtiers, he breaks forth :

"How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, HE that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and god-like reason

To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple

Of thinking too precisely on th' event,

A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom,
And ever three parts coward,-I do not know

Why yet I live to say, ' This thing's to do;'

Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means,

And he concludes his twentieth vacillation with this resolve:

"Oh! from this time forth,

My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!"

Hamlet's philosophy not unfrequently takes the form of bitter jests, while foiling the eaves-dropping treachery of those two hireling courtiers. He contemptuously dallies with their curiosity, and plays with their puzzled perceptions. He even strikes off into a wild levity and startling humour at times; and this eccentricity of demeanour, it is unnecessary to observe, was prepared and adopted by him to carry out his plan of subterfuge-action in assuming the character of insanity. For instance, where he replies to the King's inquiries after the dead body of Polonius, with those scoffing

answers

"King. Where is Polonius?

"Ham. In heaven: send thither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him in th' other place yourself. But,