The Sun.
London, England, 1861-10-24 00:00:00

(From the Daily .IVews.)

It is not until the third act that Mr. Fechter puts forth
any of his power, and up to that period many celebrated
speeches hitherto known as " points " fall flatly enough
upon the ear. The address to the Senate, for instance,
which has for solongheld an Enfield's Speaker-ish celebrity
on oration-days at minor schools, is divested of all that ro-
tundity of eloquence and pompousness of manner hitherto
allotted to it. In Mr. Fecbtyr's mouth it is simply an honest
apology for a natural action, colloquially delivered. In the
second act, too, there is nothing specially noticeable, save
the overweening tenderness invariably displayed towards
Desdemona, and the purely natural savage tone in which
the" noisy bell" is ordered to be silenced during the drunken
quarrel between Cassio and Montano. But the whole of the
third act, so far as Othello is concerned, sparkles into origi-
nal genius, When lago first asks of Cassio's acquaintance
with Desdemona, Othello answers him lightly. He is look-
ing over some papers, and speaks at first almost at random;
then, finding his interlocutor repeating his phrases and
harping with fell purpose on certain words, he rallies him
lightly and playfully ; nor even when the suggestion of
his wife's infidelity is made does he wince, until lago
reminds him of the manner in which she deceived her
father. Then his face falls, and the avowal, " And so she
did 1" comes in dreary, heart-broken accents from be-
tween his parted lips. This entire scene is replete with
beauties. Nothing can be finer than the touch of nature
canveyed in the tone in which he replies, " Not a jot, not a
jot," when lago hints that he had dashed his spirits ; no-
thing more suggestive than the abrupt stop which the
noble hearted Moor comes to when the hint, so loathsome
to his real nature, that Emilia should be set on to watch
Desdemona, first rises to his lips ; nothing grander than the
gradual rousing of his rage during lago's recital of Cassio's
dream, and the vehement burst with which he declares that
he will be satisfied of his wife's fidelity.
It is in touches of this kind—and there are dozens of them
throughout the play—that Mr. Fechter's genius is shown.
In every scene a buzzing murmur of appreciative applause
is to be heard rising after some happy reading—som, pure,
sweet, natural pathos—some honest burst of rage. This
applause comes from the educated tenants of the boxes and
stalls, and with them—although even with them by no
means to the same extent as the Hamlet—is the new im-
personation certain to be attractive.

(From the Morning Post.)
Mr. Fechter's Othello is a sensitive high-souled gentle-
man, doubtless of a constant loving, noble nature, but with
an air and aspect anything rather than martial or heroic.
There is little of the soldier about him. Least of all is he
demonstrative. His sorrows eat his heart, but rarely con-
vulse his frame. He bleeds from within. You may see the
working of the anguish that consumes him in his wrung
brow, his compressed lip, and the quivering muscles of his
face ; but he seldom gives way to those terrific transports of
rage, those tempests, so to speak, of tropical emotion in
which the English representatives of the character tradi-
tionally indulge, and which they 4eetn to be due to its Ori-
ental origin. That Mr. Fechter's perfortr ance repeatedly
gives evidence of a cultivated taste and a romantic imagina-
tion must be admitted; but, whether owing to a want of
physical power, or to whatever othercause, it is not always
as vigorous in execution as it is poetic in conception.
But though Mr. Fechter's voice and person aro not a1t0.%

gether in consonance with the:charaeter, his "make up" EP'
the part, in so far as that theatrical phrase may be taken to
relate to colour and costume, is excellent. In the first act
of ihe tragedy the Moor as played-by Mr. Fechter is free,
gracious, and completely at his ease. •
In the third and fourth acts, Mr. Feehter's performance
is rather unequal, the fervour, tenderness, and tragic emo-
tion which frequently distinguish it being occasionally sus-
ceeded by a coldness and languor of manner which neces-
sarily impairs its general effect. But his mode of exclaim-
ing, " 0 fool I fool I fool I" when he discovers how he has
been abused, like one awakening from a trance to horror s
of which he is scarcely conscious, and his last sad retro-
spect of the sorrows of his life and of the angelic qualities
of his lost love, aro very impressive; as also is the wild
despair with which ho hangs over the dead body of Desde-
mune, and vainly calls upon her by name. The manner
of his wife's death, however, as well as of hire own, is rather
too elaborate; and the throwing of the dagger at the feet
of lago, who shrinks in terror as if struck on the face by
the blood of Othello,is a piece of stage device which savours
quite too much of artifice to evoke a cordial response from
the hearts of the audience.