I was very anxious to see the illustrious English artist in that part,
and I secured a box and went to the Lyceum. I was recognised by
nobody, and remaining as it were concealed in my box, I had a good
opportunity to satisfy my curiosity. I arrived at the theatre a
little too late, so that I missed the scene of Hamlet in presence of
the ghost of his father, the scene which in my judgment contains the
clue to that strange character, and from which all the synthetic ideas
of Hamlet are developed. I was in time to hear only the last words of
the oath of secrecy. I was struck by the perfection of the
stage-setting. There was a perfect imitation of the effect of
moonlight, which at the proper times flooded the stage with its rays
or left it in darkness. Every detail was excellently and exactly
reproduced. The scene was shifted, and Hamlet began his allusions,
his sallies of sarcasm, his sententious sayings, his points of satire
with the courtiers, who sought to study and to penetrate the
sentiments of the young prince. In this scene Irving was simply
sublime. His mobile face mirrored his thoughts. The subtle
penetration of his phrases, so perfect in shading and incisiveness,
showed him to be a master of art. I do not believe there is an actor
who can stand beside him in this respect, and I was so much impressed
by it, that at the end of the second act I said to myself, "I will not
play Hamlet! Mapleson can say what he likes, but I will not play it";
and I said it with the fullest resolution. In the monologue, "To be
or not to be," Irving was admirable; in the scene with Ophelia he was
deserving of the highest praise; in that of the Players he was moving,
and in all this part of the play he appeared to my eyes to be the most
perfect interpreter of that eccentric character. But further on it
was not so, and for the sake of art I regretted it. From the time
when the passion assumes a deeper hue, and reasoning moderates
impulses which are forcibly curbed, Irving seemed to me to show
mannerism, and to be lacking in power, and strained, and it is not in
him alone that I find this fault, but in nearly all foreign actors.
There seems to be a limit of passion within which they remain true in
their rendering of nature; but beyond that limit they become
transformed, and take on conventionality in their intonations,
exaggeration in their gestures, and mannerism in their bearing. I
left my box saying to myself: "I too can do Hamlet, and I will try
it!" In some characters Irving is exceptionally fine. I am convinced
that it would be difficult to interpret Shylock or Mephistopheles
better than he. He is most skilful in putting his productions on the
stage; and in addition to his intelligence he does not lack the power
to communicate his counsels or his teachings. Withal he is an
accomplished gentleman in society, and is loved and respected by his
fellow-citizens, who justly look upon him as a glory to their country.
He should, however, for his own sake, avoid playing such pants as
Romeo and Macbeth, which are not adapted to his somewhat scanty
physical and vocal power.