the conception of which there is not even the smallest approach, except in some of the old romantic ballads.  Her brother, Laertes, is a character we do not like so well; he is too hot and choleric, and somewhat rodomontade.  Polonius is a perfect character in its kind; nor is there any foundation for the objections which have been made to the consistency of this part.  It is said that he acts very foolishly and talks very sensibly.  There is no inconsistency in that.  Again, that he talks wisely at one time and foolishly at another; that his advice to Laertes is very sensible, and his advice to the King and Queen on the subject of Hamlet’s madness very ridiculous.  But he gives the one as a father, and is sincere in it; he gives the other as a mere courtier, a busy-body, and is accordingly officious, garrulous, and impertinent.  In short, Shakespeare has been accused of inconsistency in this and other characters, only because he has kept up the distinction which there is in nature, between the understandings and the moral habits of men, between the absurdity of their ideas and the absurdity of their motives.  Polonius is not a fool, but he makes himself so.  His folly, whether in his actions or speeches, comes under the head of impropriety of intention.

We do not like to see our author’s plays acted, and least of all, Hamlet.  There is no play that suffers so much in being transferred to the stage.  Hamlet himself seems hardly capable of being acted.  Mr. Kemble unavoidably fails in this character from a want of ease and variety.  The character of Hamlet is made up of undulating lines; it has the yielding flexibility of ‘a wave o’ th’ sea’.  Mr. Kemble plays it like a man in armour, with a determined inveteracy of purpose, in one undeviating straight line, which is as remote from the natural grace and refined susceptibility of the character as the sharp angles and abrupt starts which Mr. Kean introduces into the part.  Mr. Kean’s Hamlet is as much too splenetic and rash as Mr. Kemble’s is too deliberate and formal.  His manner is too strong and pointed.  He throws a severity, approaching to virulence into the common observations and answers.  There is nothing of this in Hamlet.  He is, as it were, wrapped up in his reflections, and only thinks aloud.  There should therefore be no attempt to impress what he says upon others by a studied exaggeration of emphasis or manner; no talking at his hearers.  There should be as much of the gentleman and scholar as possible infused into the part, and as little of the actor, A pensive air of sadness should sit reluctantly upon his brow, but no appearance of fixed and sullen gloom.  He is full of weakness and melancholy, but there is no harshness in his nature.  He is the most amiable of misanthropes.

THE TEMPEST.