Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws, That thou, dead corfe, again, in compleat fteel, Never did the Grecian Mufe of Tragedy relate a tale fo full of pity and terror, as is imparted by the Ghoft. Every circumstance melts us with compaffion; and with what horror do we hear him fay! GHOST. But that I am forbid To tell the fecrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold; whofe lightest word Thy knotted and combined locks to part, But this eternal blazon must not be All All that follows is folemn, fad, and deeply affecting. Whatever in Hamlet belongs to the præ ́ternatural, is perfectly fine; the rest of the play does not come within the subject of this chapter. The ingenious criticism on the play of the Tempest, published in the Adventurer, has made it unneceffary to enlarge on that admirable piece, which alone would prove our Author to have had a fertile, a fublime, and original genius. THE |