EXTRACTS FROM MY JOURNAL OF CORRESPONDENCE, RESPECTING HAMLET. IN January, 1839, I spent a few weeks socially at Washington, D.C.—a city which I have very seldom visited professionally-and met the Hon. and ExPresident John Quincy Adams occasionally. In a conversation with him respecting the drama in general, and Shakespeare's especially-of which he was notoriously a constant reader-I observed to him that from boyhood I had read Hamlet with great attention, and had interleaved my copy of the play, and interspersed copiously annexations, which had been regarded by several of our literary friends as involving some new and singular ideas of the character. I reminded Mr. Adams of the delight he had once afforded me as well as a number of his friends, by his remarks upon that same character, after dinner at the table of Mr. Hone (Ex-Mayor Philip), of New York, and I proposed to send him my MS. notes for perusal, which he politely intimated he would "gladly give them.” When Mr. Adams returned my noted-copy of Hamlet, it was accompanied by a very charming and instructive letter, dated, "Washington, 19 Feb., 1839," commencing:-"I return herewith your tragedy of Hamlet, with many thanks for the perusal of your manuscript notes, which indicate how thoroughly you have delved into the bottomless mine of Shakespeare's genius. I well remember the conversation, more than seven years by-gone, at Mr. Philip Hone's hospitable table, where at the casual introduction of Hamlet the Dane, my enthusiastic admiration of the inspired (Muse-inspired) Bard of Avon, commenced in childhood, before the down had darkened my lip, and continued through five of the seven ages of the drama of life, gaining upon the judgment as it loses to the imagination, seduced me to expatiate at a most intellectual and lovely convivial board, upon my views of the character of Hamlet, until I came away ashamed of having engrossed an undue proportion of the conversation to myself. I look upon the tragedy of Hamlet as the master-piece of Shakespeare-I had almost said the master-piece of the human mind. But I have never committed to writing the analysis of the considerations upon which this deliberate judgment has been formed. At the table of Mr. Hone I could give nothing but outlines and etchings. I can give no more now-snatching, as I do from |