Hamlet, who was alone concerned, could the purgatorial ghost disclose the crimes of Claudius and the infidelities of the Queen.

I'LL FOLLOW THEE

Hamlet, who clearly understood the courteous beckonings of the ghost to be expressive of a desire for a secret conference, was as eager to learn its secret message as the spectre was to deliver it. His unflinching resolve to follow, is indicated by word and action, which disclose a wondrous courage and a powerful will. All pale and breathless, with eyes glowing in excitement and intently fixed upon his father's spirit, the Prince slowly follows, now pausing, now advancing, until his companions from fear bordering on terror rush forward to impede his progress. They strive by energetic word and action to turn him from his rash resolve; for, suspecting that the phantom is an evil spirit in the guise of Hamlet's father, they greatly fear for his safety, should he go where it leads. Their words, however, fall heedless on his ears, and wholly fearless and undaunted he follows in the footsteps of the still beckoning ghost. Why should he fear, even though it be an evil spirit What harm can it do him? As to his body, he does not from weariness of life value it at "a pin's fee." As to his soul, rational philosophy, as well as his religion assure him that it is spiritual and immortal, and, therefore, immune from injury by any fell spirit of the nether world.

Horatio, finding him still insistent on his resolve, appeals to the probable evil design of the phantom: it clearly beckons him onward towards the dreadful summit of the lofty cliff which overhangs the boisterous ocean. There it may suddenly assume some frightful shape, and, depriving him of reason, cause him to cast himself headlong down into the abyss of roaring waters. His words are idle: Hamlet's impatience

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only waxes stronger at Horatio's proffered arguments. Still undaunted and in excitement growing with resistance, he brushes him aside, and follows the spectre, which continues to wave him forward. As he advances, Horatio and Marcellus, who are overpowered by fear, hurriedly throw themselves upon him, to hold him back forcibly from certain death. But Hamlet is enraged at their violence, and struggling in their grasp throws them off, as if with preternatural strength, "Which makes each petty artery in his body As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve."

Then with flashing quickness he draws his gleaming sword and swears, by heaven, to make a ghost of the first aggressor.

Horatio and Marcellus, still agitated by fear, now stand back in amazement, and watch Hamlet as with sword extended he passes from their sight, pale and panting, his glistening eye ever fixed upon the beckoning ghost. His disappearance fills them with uneasiness. They feel their obedience was a dereliction of duty, since "he waxes desperate with imagination." Repentant, they now follow after, Marcellus the while uttering unconsciously the cause of the ghost's appearance:

"There is something rotten in the state of Denmark."

So far, there appears nothing in support of the theory which attributes to the Prince cowardice, weakness of will, and irresolution. His action is all to the contrary. His eagerness to encounter the ghost at dead of night; his battling for freedom with naked sword, when his companions use violence to stay his progress; his following alone in darkness the dubious guidance of the "dread spectre:" all exhibit an uncommon courage and energy of will, and these qualities shall be revealed to a still higher degree in the next and closing scene of the First Act.

SCENE FIFTH

A PURGATORIAL VISITOR

We have been gradually prepared for more thrilling aetion by the coming and the going of the dread-inspiring speetre. His ghastly form and silent stately tread have impressed upon us the presence of an actual ghost, and aroused us to an acute expectation, which is met when with sentiments of awe we listen to his solemn words, as in hollow sounding and unearthly tones he discloses to the Prince's startled ears the well-guarded secret of the grave. Hamlet had followed the ghost through the thick darkness, but, on nearing the beet ling cliff, he refused to proceed farther before his spectral guide declared himself and the purpose of his visit. As a Christian he knew on the authority of Sacred Scripture that though the ghost wore his father's form, it might be an evil spirit, whose purpose was to lead him to destruction. At his challenge the ghost stands, and with sepulchral voice discloses that the hour is near at hand, when he must return to purgatorial flames.

His words stir Hamlet to pity, but this sentiment is at once swallowed up by surprise, as with astonishment he hears the word "revenge" fall in hollow tones from the lips of the spectre. For reply he can utter but one questioning word of amazement and perplexity. That word "revenge" inspires a fear that his foul suspicions are indeed verified. All intent, he listens to the ghost's continued narration: once an erring mortal, more sinned against than sinning, he is in very truth, his father's spirit doomed "to sulphurous and tormenting flames," until the sins done in the flesh "are burnt and purged away."

The words of the ghostly visitor are in perfect harmony with Catholic faith. The fact that his father's ghost was a purgatorial spirit, was an unerring proof that he had died free from any grievous or mortal offence against the moral law of God, and was, therefore, in the state of grace, or the friendship of Heaven. But, because of failure in life to atone by good works for grievous sins forgiven, or because, tainted by lesser offences, which, while not incurring eternal reprobation, nevertheless, debar him from a Heaven where nothing defiled can enter, his soul was in a middle state, undergoing purification from all stains or disfigurements, so as to become fit to dwell in the blissful home of angels in union with a God of infinite justice and holiness. This purgatorial spirit, revisiting by divine permission "the glimpses of the moon,' comes to unburden its soul of the secrecy of an awful crime known to Claudius and to God alone. After revealing his identity and condition in the world beyond the grave, the ghost, as he affirms, would gladly gratify human curiosity, would blazon forth the awful mysteries of his prison-house in words that would harrow up Hamlet's soul, freeze his young blood, make his two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; but such eternal blazon must not be made to ears of flesh and blood.

On this subject as on others of the same order, Christian revelation teaches, not what satisfies our curiosity, but only what is necessary for salvation. The Catholic believes these truths on their extrinsic evidence, which is the authority of the Word of God. In the words of the Apostle: "Faith is the evidence of things that appear not," and again, "now we see through a glass in a dark manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I am known The Catholic believes truths of divine revelation, not because

"Hebr." XI, 1.

91 Cor. XIII, 12.

of any intrinsic evidence, which forces them upon his intellect, but by the strength of his will, and solely on the Word of God, who, because infinitely wise and holy, can neither deceive us nor be Himself deceived. Hence, the Catholic has for his belief the highest motives of credibility, and bases it upon evidence which, though extrinsic, is unfailing and transcendent. By reason of this extrinsic evidence, his act of faith is free; and because free, it is meritorious; and meritorious because by his faith he offers to God the homage of his intellect and will; and this act of homage is on the divine promise salutary for eternal life. Such faith is the beginning of salvation." Of this faith the Savior spoke when he said to the doubting Thomas: "Because thou hast seen me, as, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed." In this world our curiosity may be rewarded by diligent search after natural truths of this our visible creation, but in mortal life we are hopelessly barred from the knowledge of supernatural truths of the invisible world, save such as a kind Providence has deemed it wise to reveal for our salvation. Hence the ghost returning from the invisible world of spirits, was not allowed to disclose to Hamlet other truths concerning his prison-home, than those that are already known to Christians by means of divine revela

tion.

NATURE OF THE "REVENGE”

Thom

Hamlet listened in amazement as the ghost unfolded its woeful tale of suffering. His pity, more and more aroused, racked his heart with an agony which, at his father's appeal to his former fond love, so overpowered his feelings that he called on God for assistance. But, when the ghost for the first time makes the terrible disclosure of the foul and un

10 Hebr." II, 6.