HAMLET FROM A RURAL POINT.

The Great FECHTER as HAMLET has given us another proof of the brilliant
imagination of Mr. DICKENS. The play is so well known that a synopsis of it
is unnecessary. Yet a few words on the subject. An economical mother in high society permits baked meats left from a
funeral festival to be served at a subsequent entertainment. Her son takes
umbrage at this; becomes morose and sullen; affects spiritualism and
private theatricals. This leads to serious family difficulties, culminating
in a domestic broil of unusual violence. The intellectual aim of the piece
is to show the extraordinary loquacity of a Danish Prince. The moral
inculcated by it is, "Spare the rod and spoil the child." It is replete
with quotations from the best authors, and contains many passages of marked
ability. Its literary merit is unquestionable, though it lacks the vivacity
of BOUCICAULT, and possesses no situation of such intense interest as the
scene in ROSINA MEADOWS where the heroine starts for Boston. Mr. FECHTER presents HAMLET as a perfect "flaxy;" partly in deference to
the present popularity of the tint, and partly to show a marked contrast
with his OTHELLO, which character he always makes up as a male brunette.
His countenance is of great breadth and flexibility, ranging in its full
compass from the Placid Babe to the Outraged Congressman. His voice extends
from B flat profundo to the ut de poitrine piccolo. The
emotional nature of HAMLET gives him opportunity to exhibit both of these
wonderful organs, and in tutta forza passages, where he forces them
to their utmost power, the effect is exhilarating. Mr. FECHTER is polished. He does not hesitate to correct the sometimes rude
and occasionally offensive remarks of HAMLET. Mr. FECHTER is refined. He
permits "no maggots in a dead dog." He substitutes "trichinae in
prospective pork." Fashionable patrons will appreciate this. They cherish
poodles, particularly post-mortem; they disdain swine. Mr. FECHTER is
polite. He excludes "the insolence of office," and "the cutpurse of the
empire and the rule." Collector BAILEY'S "fetch" sits in front. Mr. FECHTER
is fastidious. He omits the prefatory remarks to "assume a virtue," but
urges his mother to seek relief in Chicago. Considering her frivolous
conduct and the acrid colloquy consequent upon the comparison of
photographs, this is filial as well as affectionate. Minor actors must, of course, be precluded from liberties with the text;
but presuming the alterations in question to be the result of a
consultation with Mr. DICKENS, we must rejoice that SHAKESPEARE is being
toned to good society. We commend the improved readings to the delicate
susceptibilities of the community. Mr. FECHTER is a great genius. Distinguished talent is occasionally needed
to elevate the national taste. How we have outraged theatrical proprieties
by applauding WALLACK and BOOTH and DAVENPORT!
FORREST, forget us. FECHTER,
forgive us.
Epitaph on a Defunct Boarding-House. Peace to its Hashes! Apropos of Small-salaried Husbands, who have Extravagant Wives. "A little earning is a dangerous thing." The Mormon's Motto Bring 'em Young.

JUMBLES.

Truth to tell, I don't like neighbors. I do like civilization. The trouble is, neighbors are not always civilized. PUNCHINELLO will be impressed with the fact before becoming a single weekling. The first floor may be ever so nice, quiet, well-dressed, proper folks—but those dreadful musical people in the attic! I hate musical people; that is, when in the chrysalis state of learning. Practice makes perfect, indeed; but practice also makes a great deal of noise. Noise is another of my constitutional dislikes. If these matters must be divided, give me the melody, and whoever else will, may take the noise. The truth is, my dear PUNCHINELLO—and I may as well begin calling you what the public will do one of these early days—there is nothing like notes. But bank-notes are my weakness. My weakness in that direction is, I may confidently state, very strong. The ladies are not the only greenbacks that are accepted at sight; and acceptable to it. The bank on which I should like to dwell—do you not guess it?—is the auriferous National. Those musical neighbors-how they do play, though! But, to borrow from Mr. SLANG, my queer neighbor opposite, they have about played out. Our gentlemanly landlord—all landlords are so very gentlemanly, kind, good, and considerate—Mr. GRABB, says it don't pay to keep such tenants.