spired by any mere motives of flattery. Polonius has thought aloud, as it were, and his honest mind has produced this reservation. And yet the reservation is, in fact, no detraction at all, for what King could possibly object to a man's owing his soul to his God?
Second. The mood of abstract, or impersonal, thought, is the best soil out of which flattery can spring. For abstract impersonal thought is wholly engaged upon a question—something entirely aside from the mere person of the party under consideration. Flattery would therefore seem to be far from the particular state of mind. A fine distinction serves the purpose, for it is the very nature of conscientious thought to observe distinctions and differences. It is by making mental corrections and verbal qualifications that truth is arrived at. And so, when we have a character like Polonius, we may expect to see flattery swim in her own native element. What he has to say is really very simple—He owes his duty to his king as he owes his soul to God. He starts out in a way that would seem quite spontaneous and natural—I owe my duty as I owe my soul; and right there he sees the force of having a mental qualm and making, for the king's edification, a most conscientious distinction. His abstract and well-pondered revery has been given, also, a very religious turn—not a small point in impressing the king with his incorruptible veracity.
