not for my part think so.]
[Footnote 8: Dr. Johnson says there is a quibble here with _asses_ as
beasts of _charge_ or burden. It is probable enough, seeing, as Malone
tells us, that in Warwickshire, as did Dr. Johnson himself, they
pronounce _as_ hard. In Aberdeenshire the sound of the _s_ varies with
the intent of the word: '_az_ he said'; '_ass_ strong _az_ a horse.']
[Footnote 9: To what purpose is this half-voyage to England made part of
the play? The action--except, as not a few would have it, the very
action be delay--is nowise furthered by it; Hamlet merely goes and
returns.
To answer this question, let us find the real ground for Hamlet's
reflection, 'There's a Divinity that shapes our ends.' Observe, he is
set at liberty without being in the least indebted to the finding of the
commission--by the attack, namely, of the pirate; and this was not the
shaping of his ends of which he was thinking when he made the
reflection, for it had reference to the finding of the commission. What
then was the ground of the reflection? And what justifies the whole
passage in relation to the Poet's object, the character of Hamlet?
This, it seems to me:--
Although Hamlet could not have had much doubt left with regard to his
uncle's guilt, yet a man with a fine, delicate--what most men would
think, because so much more exacting than theirs--fastidious conscience,
might well desire some proof more positive yet, before he did a deed so
repugnant to his nature, and carrying in it such a loud condemnation of
his mother. And more: he might well wish to have something to _show_: a
man's conviction is no proof, though it may work in others inclination
to receive proof. Hamlet is sent to sea just to get such proof as will
not only thoroughly satisfy himself, but be capable of being shown to
others. He holds now in his hand--to lay before the people--the two
contradictory commissions. By his voyage then he has gained both
assurance of his duty, and provision against the consequence he mainly
dreaded, that of leaving a wounded name behind him. 272. This is the
shaping of his ends--so exactly to his needs, so different from his
rough-hewn plans--which is the work of the Divinity. The man who desires
to know his duty that he may _do_ it, who will not shirk it when he does
know it, will have time allowed him and the thing made plain to him; his
perplexity will even strengthen and purify his will. The weak man is he
who, certain of wha
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