Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

My father,

methinks I see my father.

Hor. O where, my lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio!

Hor. I saw him once he was a goodly king.

Ham. He was a man

Take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Ham. Saw? Whom?

Hor. My lord, the king, your father.

Ham. The king, my father?

Hor. Season your admiration for a while

With an attent ear; till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

In the dead waste and middle of the night,

Been thus encountered. A figure like your father,
Armed at all points, exactly, cap-à-pé,

Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walked,
By their oppressed and fear-surprisëd eyes,
Within his truncheon's length, while they, distilled
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did;

And I with them, the third night, kept the watch;
Where, as they had delivered, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes: I knew your father;

These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we watched. Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;

But answer made it none; yet once, methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak;

But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And, at the sound, it shrunk in haste away,
And vanished from our sight.

Ham. 'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 't is true; And we did think it writ down in our duty,

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

All. We do, my lord.

Ham. Armed, say you?*

Mar. Armed, my lord.

Ham. From top to toe?

Mar. My lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then saw you not his face!†

Hor. O, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver ‡ up.

Ham. What! looked he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
Ham. Pale or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixed his eyes upon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amazed you.

Ham. Very like, very like. Stayed it long?

Hor. While one, with moderate haste, might tell a hundred.

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

Ham. His beard was grizzled?— no?

* Here Hamlet breaks off from his last question, and refers to the apparition,

Do you say it was armed?

A mark of interrogation is usually placed here, but I have ventured to make it a mark of exclamation. Hamlet snatches at an apparent inconsistency in the story of his friends, as if he would say, "Then you could not have seen his face, and there is no proof of his identity!" That part of the helmet which may be lifted up.

Hor. It was as I have seen it in his life, A sable silvered.

Ham. I will watch to-night;

Perchance 't will walk again.

Hor. I warrant 't will.

Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto concealed this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue :
I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

1

Hor. Our duty to your honor.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you:

Farewell. [Exeunt all but HAMLET. My father's spirit in arms! All is not well; I doubt some foul play: would the night were come ! Till then, sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

CVIII. PHYSICAL EDUCATION.

HERBERT SPENCER.

See in Index, DEFENSE or DEFENCE, PROTEST, SPENCER.

1. PERHAPS nothing will so much hasten the time when body and mind will both be adequately cared for, as a diffusion of the belief, that the preservation of health is a duty. Few seem conscious that there is such a thing as physical morality. Men's habitual words and acts imply the idea that they are at liberty to treat their bodies as they please.

2. Disorders entailed by disobedience to nature's dictates they regard simply as grievances, not as the effects of a conduct more or less flagitious. Though the evil consequences inflicted on their dependents, and on futúre generations, are often as great as those caused by crime, yet they do not think themselves in any degree criminal.

3. It is true, that, in the case of drunkenness, the viciousness of a purely bodily transgression is recognized; but none appear to infer that, if this bodily transgression is vicious, so, too, is every bodily transgression. The fact is, that all breaches of the laws of health are physical sins. When this is generally seen, then, and not till then, will the physical training of the young, receive all the attention it deserves.

4. Nature is a strict accountant; and if you demand of her in one direction more than she is prepared to lay out, she balances the account by making a deduction elsewhere. If you insist on premature or undue growth of any one part, she will, with more or less protest, concede the point; but that she may do your extra work, she must leave some of her more important work undone.

5. In primitive times, when aggression and defense were the leading social activities, bodily vigor and its accompanying courage were the great desiderata; and then education was almost wholly physical; mental education was little cared for, and, indeed, was-often treated with contempt. But now that muscular power is of use for little else than manual labor, while social success of nearly every kind depends very much on mental power, our education has become almost exclusively mental.

6. Instead of respecting the body and ignoring the mind, we now respect the mind and ignore the body. Both these attitudes are wrong. We do not yet sufficiently realize the truth, that as, in this life of ours, the

physical underlies the mental, the mental must not be developed at the expense of the physical. The ancient and modern conceptions must be combined.

In the spring of 1805, Mr. Charles Gough, a young man much esteemed for his qualities of head and heart, lost his way on the mountain Helvellyn in Cumberland, England, and falling from a cliff, perished from his injuries and from exposure. His remains were not discovered till three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful dog, his constant attendant during his solitary rambles over the mountains.

The Red-tarn is a mountain lake visible from Helvellyn: and Striden-edge and Catchedicam are inferior summits of the same group of hills.

See in Index, HEATHER, REQUIEM, SCOTT.

I.

I CLIMBED the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,
Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide;
All was still, save by fits when the eagle was yelling,
And, starting around me, the echoes replied.

On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending,
And Catchedicam its left verge was defending,

One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending,

When I marked the sad spot where the wanderer had died.

II.

Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain heather,
Where the pilgrim of Nature lay stretched in decay,
Like the corpse of an outcast, abandoned to weather,
Till the mountain winds wasted the tenantless clay.
Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,
For, faithful in death, his mute favorite attended,
The much-loved remains of her master defended,
And chased the hill-fox and the raven away.