of this supposed, and only inward, exclamation of Hamlet perfectly intelligible. Unfortunately for themselves, however, the commentators, with more of learning, and with less of those qualities which should accompany it, entertain a different opinion. See how they quack and gabble about it.

First, In the muster-roll there appears the great Dr SAMUEL JOHNSON, who, more sagely than opportunely wise, tells us, that kind is the Teutonic word for child ;" and that therefore Hamlet's answer is, "that he was somewhat more than cousin, and less than son." The dreaming lexicographer's pistol missed fire here at a mark within his reach, and therefore he deserved to have it wrenched from his grasp, and to be "knocked down with its butt end;" or if his ghost ever makes its appearance in "Cock-lane," it should be told, civilly, that Shakespeare wrote "kind" here, (" blessings on his want of learning!") not as a Teutonic substantive, but merely as an English adjective.

Next follows Steevens, who, very properly, doubts the "nice distinction" which Johnson points out, on account of the want of proof of any other English writer having ever used kind for child; he then stumbles on something like the true meaning, but errs in supposing that Hamlet applies the words to his uncle instead of himself-(it is on this point that even the shadow of a doubt can exist.) Again, doubting, he goes on to assert, that as kind signifies nature, the meaning of "less than kind" may be, that his relation to his uncle is an unnatural one, because partly founded upon incest. First impressions, after all, are sometimes the best; and to such Steevens, in this case, would have done better to have adhered; but mark the conclusion of his very unsatisfactory lucubrations: "Dr Farmer, however, observes, that kin is still used for cousin in the mid-land counties!" It may be so; but I apprehend that, in all other counties, kin (which differs by only

a single letter from kind,) conveys the more general meaning of relationship, either by blood or marriage.

Another would-be unraveller of this knotty line in Hamlet remains yet to be noticed. "Who shall decide, when doctors disagree?" The aid which common sense affords may accomplish what is sometimes denied to learning. It never once occurs to the vulgar wisdom of any of these commentators that Shakespeare, who indulged in every opportunity where he could introduce a play upon words, adopts kin and kind for the sake of a paradox upon the quantity of letters composing these words, in their antithetical relation to each other, as determined by the words more and less. But the line as it stands establishes an obvious meaning, and that far beyond what the mere play upon the number of letters composing kin or kind admits of. And therefore Hamlet's meaning, in " a little more than kin and less than kind," can be neither more nor less than this:-" I am somewhat more than thy kinsman, (for besides being your nephew, I am now your step-son,) and I am somewhat less than kind to thee; (for I hate thee in that you have mounted the throne to the injury of my natural right, or against my chance of election †, and formed an incestuous alliance by marriage with my mother.)

Of all the commentators, Malone would have been entitled to the credit of rendering the true meaning here, (if any credit can be due where the meaning is so very obvious,) had he rendered it to the full extent, and less hesitatingly, for he thus concludes his remarks:"Or, if we understand kind in its ancient sense, then the meaning will be- I am more than thy kinsman, for I am thy step-son;' being such,

I am less near to thee than thy natural offspring,' and therefore not entitled to the appellation of son, which you have now given me." This smells of the Teutonic lore.

Just before closing the volume containing Hamlet, my eye caught the

following passage, marked with a reference to notes of commentators. Hamlet, speaking of his deceased father, uses these words:

"He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again."

Here" Mr Holt proposes to read, from an emendation of Sir Thomas Samwell, Baronet, of Upton,

‘Eye shall not look upon his like again,'

"and thinks it is more in the true spirit of Shakespeare than the other. So, in Stowe's Chronicle, In the greatest pomp that ever eye beheld.' Again, in Sandy's Travels, We went this day through the most pregnánt and pleasant valley that ever eye beheld. Again, in Sidney's Arcadia, as cruel a fight as eye did ever see.'"-Steevens.

This is abundantly ridiculous. ""Tis all my eye and Betty Martin,” to display erudition and the want of common sense. Quotations such as the above might be multiplied ad infinitum; yet I opine, that, in the present instance, they do not serve their purpose. It is quite inconsistent with the character of Hamlet to force his adoption here of eye instead of I, and therefore it cannot be "more in the true spirit of Shakespeare!" Hamlet, subdued as he is, under all circumstances, by the deepest feelings of grief for the loss of his father, and of veneration for the memory of his talents and virtues, is far from being that illiberal and dogmatizing coxcomb which his speech, so altered, would warrant. It might have been perfectly possible, that, had Hamlet doubled or even tripled his years, he would not have witnessed, upon the throne of Denmark, another king, possessing the same inestimable qualities as his father in every relation of life. But it would be rather too bold an assertion, that, from the eye of posterity, the like qualities and virtues were shut out, and for ever entombed with "the majesty of buried Denmark." To this commentator I would apply what Lockier says of Dean Swift:-"In the coffee-house yesterday I received a letter, in which there was one word,

which consisted but of one syllable, and that syllable of but one letter, and yet the fellow had contrived to have three false spellings in it*."

I proceed next to notice a passage in the first scene of Othello. Iago addressing Roderigo, says of Cassio: "A fellow almost damn'd, in a fair wife." One would almost imagine that this licentious speech from the lips of Iago, uttered for the accomplishment of an unworthy purpose, hardly required any serious comment. Its effect, however, has been to set the geese a-cackling; and more than three pages of small-letter print are devoted to its analysis,—and a strange analysis it is!

Mr Tyrwhitt professes himself inclined to believe that the true reading here is

"A fellow almost damn'd in a fair life ;" which meaning he illustrates by quoting a passage from the Merchant of Venice, to the point of the Gospel judgment against those who call their brothers "fools ;" and from this he draws his inference, that Shakespeare, by the proposed substitution of life for wife, alludes to the judgment denounced in the Gospel against those of whom all men speak well; closing his remarks by an allusion to what is recorded in the Biographia Britannica of Archbishop Sheldon having paid a compliment to the nephew of Sir William Temple, in saying that he had the curse of the Gospel, because all men spoke well of him." This explanation is certainly forced and far fetched; that "the devil can quote scripture for his purpose" may be true, for any thing I know; but I strongly suspect that Iago had no such Gospel allusion in his head.

Mr Mason admits this conjecture of Tyrwhitt to be ingenious, but he cannot allow it to be right, for the malicious Iago was more a master of his art than to bestow the highest commendation on Cassio, when he is at the same time labouring to depreciate him in the estimation of Roderigo.

On the other hand, Mr Ritson "has not the least doubt that Tyr

whitt has given us here Shakespeare's genuine word and meaning.' But it would be alike weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, to follow him, Malone, Steevens, and Henley, through the whole of their lucubrations upon this" obscure passage," the sum and substance of which has no other view than to establish or deny whether Cassio was then actually married, or to be married,-whether or not Bianca is the fair wife alluded to, whether or not she was a lady of reputation,-whether or not Cassio was even then acquainted with her. In the want of better information respecting all these important facts, we may, without any alteration of the text, or any gross violation of its meaning as it now stands, thus interpret the words of Iago:-"Cassio

cannot long be a formidable obstruction to our views, in that the fellow is almost already damned as such, in a fair wife, and prone to the indulgence of an uxorious disposition. She holds, or will hold him in leading-strings, to a degree contemptible for manhood, and subversive of his competence for the duties of any situation requiring active and laborious exertion;" or that his "reputation is on the wane by his alliance, formed, or about to be formed, with a woman of questionable character." If the question whether Cassio was married, or only about to be married, must needs be agitated, it can have no other effect in either case upon the "almost damned" of Iago, than to determine whether such doom was the nearer to its being accomplished.-S.

able and accommodated to each other, -when the small fry were driven, as it were, from the market, and the "old boys" with the brown noses, yellow sides, and largely spotted and marled backs, were afloat, and abroad, and on the out-look; and when there was neither springing nor plunging to be seen or to be heard, · either in stream or pool, but all was conducted in silence and secrecy. And the hook just suddenly disappeared, and the line just stopped and sunk, and the very first pull was as sure as fate, and as fixed as the barb in the jaws of Leviathan. There are days, when, with all possible inadvertency and rashness, no loss can possibly occur,-when a sudden and uncalculated pull will only immediately make sure of the trout, without breaking the line or bursting the rod, and when you may safely play a two-pounder till both you and he tire, without inning any risk from the delay, oriver obstructions and mischam And what a delightful sensation playing of a large, of an uncommonly large, of a prodigiously big trou inspires through all your soul' framework! There! there is your chance! a little farther on, now a little more to the opposite side, and immediately under that overhanging bush, and over the very thickest, and darkest, and most troubled part of the stream; -there! see! try it once more, where the foam is wheeled and whirled, as in a turning-loom, into the size and form of a Highland bonnet, and where large and short-lived bells are sailing "a-down" majestically; there's your chance-throw lightly, accurately, and transversely ;-now home with your throw, in a downward sweep, so as to sink your hook about half an inch into the water. "Habet," "he has it," as the Romans said of the transfixed gladiator; and with one sudden and forceful regardless swing, he has taken to his dark and long-frequented hold. Never mind him; he is not quite at ease in his dwelling, for see how your rod vibrates, and your line trembles; he is now shaking his head, and looking exceedingly knowing and wise, like a surgeon over his patient; he is endeavouring, by mere strength of fin and muscle, to persuade him

self that he must be asleep-that all this pulling and tugging at his jaw is mere fancy work, and that he may act the stoic, as he has long reigned the monarch of the flood, and take things in a dignified and “sang froid" manner. But this deception cannot be of long continuance, for that downwards tug and upwards pull will convince him that he may no longer trifle with the evil;-so out he comes, in the finest style imaginable, and has almost crossed the stream and landed himself at your feet, before you have had time either to retreat from his advance or to wind up the now superfluous reach of line. Never mind,—this is all a feint, for he has no intention of yielding so soon. The shallow water has brought him to himself, and he has just had time to wheel round, and to recover self-command, whilst his dorsal fin and broad tail are absolutely exposed above the surface of the flood. "Dum vitant stulti vitia in contraria currunt;" so fares it with him, out of the deep gullet into the shallow stream, and out of the shallow stream into the deep gullet; in neither situation can he find rest or safety, for whilst the weight and pressure of the deep water upon the transverse line considerably incommodes him in the gullet, the want of scope and of depth is equally teasing and dangerous amidst the shallows. "Medio tutissimus," says he, and away into the middle of the river he dashes majestically, the line all the while cutting its way over his head, like a shepherd's knife passing from stem to stern of a dinner kebboch. But things are strangely altered now; for, in that very theatre of his domain, where he pursued either his sport or his prey at his will, he is now incapable of retaining even a temporary possession,-he plies every fin, and he exerts every nerve, and he lies lazy, and all but motionless, on the very bed of the river; but, "hæret faucibus lethale ferrum," rest, or even a stationary position of any long continuance, is out of the question; he shoots upwards with an instantaneous spring, and seems as if he were intentioned to catch flies amidst the clouds, for he has actually risen fourteen inches above the surface of the stream. The time,