naciously, that, with the help of Rosine, she was persuaded to stand out and enact the ghost.

She took the book, and recited the scene in which he makes his first appearance to Hamlet. When she came to the part of the play in which he recounts to him the circumstances of his murder

"Murder most foul as in the best it is,

But this most foul and most unnatural,"

she threw all her histrionic talent into the speech, and gave it such effect, that her audience looked and listened with all their

eyes and ears. Our hero, in particular, was so struck with its power-with the force and variety of her tones, the expressiveness of her features and attitude, that it inspired him with the same feeling of awe that he felt, when in his boyhood, he first saw the ghost, at the theatre, "enter in complete steel, revisiting the glimpses of the moon, making night hideous." He did not applaud, but when she had finished, and was about to take her seat, he did

as

as mademoiselle Clairon served David Garrick on a similar occasion, sprang forward, caught her in his arms, and kissed her once, twice, thrice. There was no Mrs. Garrick present to apologize to for the liberty. To be sure Caroline scolded him for it; but in such a tone and manner, that any body might see his offence was by no means unpardonable.

Rosine tried to laugh at her, but her laugh was not as light and merry as usual. That evening was the first time she had ever seen her "dear cousin" bestow a kiss upon Caroline. It was the first time she had ever seen his lips touch any but her own. She had never anticipated the effect it produced upon her. It gave her a slight pang, but so momentary, that she did not stop to inquire the cause.

Hugh begged Caroline to take the character of Hamlet, and let the performance proceed. After some solicitation, Caroline said "Well then, I'll speak the speech, which I think is his best soliloquy.'

"What, 'to be or not to be ?" said Hugh, "No.

VOL. I.

M

"No, 'tis where the army from Norway

enters."

She began there, and went on to the soliloquy of Hamlet which succeeds. When she came to that, she threw away the book, and proceeded from memory, to give it in a style that Kean himself could not have surpassed; at least, so thought our hero.

"How all occasions do conspire against me
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed? A beast—no more.
Sure he that made us with such large discourse-
Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and godlike reason

To rust in us unused; now whether it be
Bestial oblivion or some drawn scruple

Of thinking too precisely on the event,

(A thought, which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom,
And, ever-three parts coward). I do not know

Why yet I live to say-" This thing's to do!"

Since I have cause, and will, and strength, and means

To do it. Examples gross as earth exhort me.
Witness-this army of such mass and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
Whose spririt, with divine ambition puffed,
Makes mouths at the invisible event!

Exposing what is mortal and unsure
To all that fortune, death and danger dare,
Even for an egg-shell! Rightly to be great
Is not to stir without great argument,

But

But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,

When honour is at stake! How stand I then-
With wrongs to fire my reason and my blood-
And let all sleep? While, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That for a fantasy—a trick of fame-fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough and continent
To hide the slain ?"

"Admirable !" cried Hugh; "admirable! admirable! The acting first, but the poetry is fine. I wonder I should have half overlooked, as I always have done, that powerful soliloquy."

"Fie on the acting!" said Caroline, "but are not the sentiments at once noble

and just, heroic and philosophical? I took such a fancy to them, that I committed it to memory, many years ago, and I have never seen it since, but I am sure I shall never forget it."

Rosine embraced her as she sat down. -"Ah, Caroline! you were born for a heroine yourself."

"Not of a novel," said Caroline, laughingly; "you are made for the heroine of a novel. For me-I should like to be a

heroine of history. A plague upon these dull, sad, modern times, I say! these degenerate days! They allow us poor women no chance at all, to figure upon the grand scene of life. Rose, let's get up a rebellion against these male tyrants, and throw off the yoke; what say you?" Rosine smiled and said—

My thoughts, I must confess, are turned on peace;'

but, still, if you are leader, go on, I'll follow thee."

66

Bravely resolved, ladies," said Hugh; but, for pity's sake, don't talk of the tyranny of our sex, when all our pleasure, and all our ambition, are to be your slaves! and as to throwing off the yoke, I fear your party would be extremely small among your own sex. They would much sooner fight for the yoke than against it."

"That's impertinent," said Caroline; "but let it pass. The only excuse for the reflection is, that it is too true; and that's but a poor apology for attacking the weaker sex. Do you know, sir, I don't like your sneers at them ?"