To an unthinking mind, Horatio's act might seem superstitious. There are indeed many superstitions current among the un-Christian masses, which irrationally attribute a preternatural efficacy to some talisman or charm; but such is not the Christian's faith in the sign of the cross; his confidence is based on a real potency derived from the Son of God. By the cross He conquered sin and Satan, and in consequence, it has become in the Christian world the honored sign of salvation, and like a monarch's sceptre, the universally recognized symbol of the Savior's divine power. Hence the Church prescribes its use in all her sacraments and ceremonies, as well as for the exorcism of evil spirits. Catholics are accustomed to cross themselves, not only in their devotions, but also in temptation and peril; and if suddenly affrighted, as was Horatio, they like him invoke the Savior's power by crossing themselves or the object that excites their fear. The action of the tragedy occurs in the early part of the eleventh century, and all the characters exhibit themselves as either bad, or indifferent, or good Catholics. Of the latter kind are Hamlet and Horatio. Both terrified in presence of of the same ghost invoke the aid of heaven, the one exclaiming, "Angels and ministers of grace defend us," the other, relying upon the supernatural power of the cross, feels no fear, even though the ghost should attempt to blast him. He knows that the cross is a sacred sign loved by angels and hated by demons, who tremble and flee before it. If the ghost be a good spirit, it will respect the symbol; if it be evil, it will quickly vanish. His Christian confidence is rewarded; the ghost neither vanishes nor manifests disturbance, but standing still, expresses its recognition of the sign of Horatio by extending its arms in the form of a cross. Such is Shakespeare's direction as noted in his own acting copy of 1604, which is commonly known as the Second Quarto. A TRIPLE APPEAL Horatio instantly concludes that it is a good spirit, and feels encouraged to address it further with the hope of discovering the purpose for which it "revisits the glimpses of the moon." His words prompted by Christian faith embrace a threefold question. The first, which concerns the condition of the disembodied spirit, can have reference neither to a soul in bliss nor to one in perdition; the former is beyond all suffering, and the latter can have no easement. His question, therefore, can only relate to a soul in the state of unrest or purgation. His words are, however, unintelligible to a reader that is not illumined by Christian faith. They presuppose : first, that the spiritual kingdom of the Son of God comprehends all the faithful united with Him in heaven, and on earth, and in the spirit world of purgation; second, that the just on earth, can by virtue of inter-communion succor the souls of those faithful departed who are still undergoing purification; and third, that these souls no longer capable of meriting for themselves, earnestly desire their friends on earth to shorten the term of their imprisonment by vicarious good works: these Christian truths are necessarily implied in the question which Horatio addresses to the ghost. Knowing Hamlet's father well in life, he is sure that the spectre before him is in his exact form, features, and attire. He is also aware of the circumstance of which the ghost himself later on bitterly complains: that he was cut off without the salutary sacraments of the dying, and ushered into eternity "with all his imperfections on his head." This fact together with his strange haunting visits, seem to Horatio sufficient reasons for supposing him to be a purgatorial spirit. Hence, inspired by this Christian faith he feels a sincere commiseration for the poor ghost, and seeks anxiously to learn if he can do any good work to ease his sufferings: "Speak to me: If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do ease and grace to me, Horatio's failure by earnest pleading to induce the ghost to reveal the secret purpose of his mission, leaves him surprised and overawed at the solemn, chilling stare of the silent spectre. He proceeds, nevertheless, with hope and undaunted courage to address it again. His second question arises from a strange coincidence: the dead king had reappeared in the accoutrements of battle at the very time when Horatio and the sentinels were conversing on the cause of the impending war. The entrance of the ghost thus attired and at such a moment naturally suggested the thought that perhaps he had some preternatural information regarding Denmark's fate. On this supposition, Horatio appeals to the former patriotism of the late monarch, and urges hm to disclose his prophetic knowledge for the welfare of his country: "Speak to me: If thou art privy to thy country's fate, O, speak!"' Again, when the solemn, silent ghost gives no response by word or sign, Horatio attempts a third time to discover the secret of his visitings. If it be, as it seems, a purgatorial ghost, its presence may be due to the desire of having some act of justice done, which it neglected to perform in its life on earth. Horatio is aware of the popular belief that the soul of a man who dies in possession of ill-gotten treasure, which he has concealed in secret places, can find no rest until he has made restitution. Souls in such cases are known to have returned to earth in the interests of justice. That perhaps is what troubles the ghost before him. Cut off by sudden death, the late king had no opportunity of carrying out his good intention of righting wrongs he may have committed. Ho ratio on this probable supposition feelingly appeals to the spectre with the promise of performing anything it may desire in the cause of justice: "Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, (the Speak of it; stay, and speak!" Futile were the appeals of Horatio. The sight of the kingly ghost turning his back in silence as if offended, and solemnly walking away, rouses Horatio and the officers to such a degree of excitement that, all forgetful of the spiritual nature of the ghost, they wildly strike at him, and attempt to stay him by violence. When, however, the spectre had vanished, they regain their senses, and Marcellus, impressed by the ghost's majestic bearing, is the first to express regret at their folly no material weapon can touch a ghost, since it is by nature intangible and invulnerable. THE HALLOWED SEASON Their fears are allayed with the disappearance of the ghost; but the intense excitement, which was aroused by the presence of the preternatural, is now succeeded by a high exaltation of mind. It leads them to picture their thoughts and sentiments of the supernatural in fine poetic phrases. Bernardo's statement that the spectre was about to speak when the cock crowed, is confirmed by Horatio, who in proof of it invokes a common belief that all spirits wandering over earth and sea hasten to their confines at the crowing of the cock at dawn of day. This popular belief, Horatio holds to be approved as true by what they themselves have now seen. "No Addison," says Coleridge, "could be more careful to be poetical in diction than Shakespeare when elevating a thing almost mean by familiarity." In the pagan world, the cock, as the herald of the morn, was dedicated to the sun god, Apollo. His crowing was to the Roman a presage of victory. The Fathers of the early and medieval Church homilized on his chanting, and clothed him with a symbolism, whose artistic expression is found in the catacombs and in mural paintings, as well as in the weather-vanes of ancient spires and belfries. The Christian poets of the same period made him emblematic and prophetic, and sang his praises in verses that blend the mystical and the literal. The words of Horatio are but the reflex of thoughts found in the verses of Prudentius (348-405), whom Bentley calls the Christian Horace. Behind the obvious literary sense of his poem, Ad Galli Cantum, the Christian, whose mind is saturated with symbolic lore, readily surmises the mystical, and associates the cock-crow with the approach of "light, safety, and divinity." The night is sin, the day is grace, and Christ is the Light of day, which invades the realms of the spirits of darkness: "Invisa nam vicinitas Lucis, salutis, numinis Rupto tenebrarum situ, Noctis fugat satellites." "Ferunt Vagantes daemones, Laetos tenebris noctium, Sparsim timere et cedere.""" St. Ambrose (340-397), the father of Latin Hymnody, like Prudentius, expresses the same thought as Horatio and under a similar figure. In his poem, Aeterne Rerum Condi 3 For the near coming, though unseen, Of light, salvation, Deity, Dispels the darkness that hath been Thay say the roving demon-flock |