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July 13, 1861.]
“CATO” ON THE BOARDS.
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and jealous at the progress of comedians. Powell had once been in a great rage because he had been obliged to appear as Cæsar Borgia, in a much less splendid coat than Cibber wore as Lord Foppington.

Wilks was greatly admired as Juba. He played with much animation and feeling; was very graceful in his attitudes and actions. Comparing him with Booth, Cibber says: “In sorrow, tenderness, or resignation, Wilks plainly had the advantage, and seemed more pathetically to look, feel, and express his calamity.” He was noted for his perfectness in his parts: it was said “that in forty years he never five times changed or misplaced an article in one of them.” Mrs. Porter appeared as Lucia. Speaking of a later period of her career, Horace Walpole declared that, in passionate tragedy, she surpassed even Garrick. She was entrusted with the epilogue—a frivolous composition by Dr. Garth, and quite unworthy of the occasion.

But, of course, the real hero of the performance was Barton Booth. A Westminster schoolboy, under Dr. Busby, he earned his first laurels by his acting in a Latin play at the school. About to proceed to the University, he absconded and joined the company of Mr. Ashbury, the manager of the Dublin theatre. Ashbury was a good actor—was famed for his Iago. Wilks, Booth, and others gained greatly by his instructions. He had even taught Queen Anne, when she was only princess, the part of Semandra in Lee’s play of “Mithridates, King of Pontus,” performed at the banqueting-house, Whitehall, by persons of rank. For his services on this occasion he obtained the appointment of Master of the Revels in Ireland. Mr. Booth played for three seasons in Dublin with extraordinary success. He then came to England strongly recommended to Mr. Betterton. As a young man he had unfortunately fallen into habits of excess rather fashionable in his day, but warned by the example of George Powell, an actor who had ruined himself by his intemperance, “Booth” (says Cibber) “fixed a resolution which from that time to the end of his days he strictly observed, of utterly reforming: an uncommon act of philosophy in a young man of which in his fame and fortune he afterwards enjoyed the reward and benefit!” He had founded his style upon Betterton as Wilks had founded his upon Mountford and Cibber his upon Kynaston. Acting is full of traditions. Victor, in his “History of the Theatre,” thus describes Booth: “He was of a middle stature—five feet eight, his form rather inclining to the athletic though nothing clumsy or heavy: his air and deportment naturally graceful, with a marking eye, and a manly sweetness in his countenance. His voice was completely harmonious, from the softness of the flute to the extent of the trumpet. His attitudes were all picturesque: he was noble in his designs and happy in his execution.” Aaron Hill pays the actor a high compliment when he says: “The blind might have seen him in his voice, and the deaf have heard him in his visage.” The elocution of Mr. Booth’s day was very much of the ore rotundo order. Blank verse was delivered with a solemn and stately articulateness. However, the actor indulged occasionally in a whirlwind of passion. In Lear, we are told, “his fire was ardent and his feelings remarkably energetic: in uttering the imprecations in general he was more rapid than Garrick.” His principal parts besides Cato were Pyrrhus, Othello, Brutus, Lear, Marc Antony, Aurungzebe, Jaffier, the Ghost in Hamlet, &c. Macklin described the actor’s Pyrrhus “as awfully impressive,” so much so that he stood fixed with amazement at it. When he played Brutus, and delivered the sad words, “Portia is dead!” the whole audience are said to have wept with him. He was essentially a tragic actor. Once at the command of the Queen, and following the example of Betterton, he played Falstaff, but as he never repeated the part, it is probable the experiment was unsuccessful. Those who have smiled at the notion of the player appearing as Cato in a full bottomed wig, may be interested in knowing that he was considered for his time a very careful dresser. He was the first to wear a plume of feathers in the helmet of the Ghost in Hamlet, and to cover his feet with felt so as to make no noise in passing over the stage. Booth was born in 1681 in the county Palatine of Lancaster. His health failing him he retired from the stage in 1729. He died in 1733. He was twice married—first, in 1704, to the daughter of Sir William Barkham, a Norfolk baronet, and, secondly, to Miss Santlowe, an actress who had made a great reputation in the character of the Fair Quaker of Deal. Scandal whispered that she had acquired a large fortune by accompanying John Duke of Marlborough to Flanders in the campaign of 1706. She survived her husband forty years. Booth was said to have been concerned in the building of Barton and Cowley Streets, Westminster; to the former of which he gave his own Christian name, and to the latter the name of his favourite poet.

The political triumph which the Whigs were enjoying in the success of “Cato” was ingeniously countermined by Bolingbroke, who sent for Booth between the acts, and before the whole theatre presented him with a purse of fifty guineas for so well defending the cause of liberty against a perpetual dictator, and dying so bravely in the cause of liberty. This was an adroit reference to Marlborough’s attempt, not long before his fall, to obtain a patent creating him Captain-General for life. Dogget, the manager, a sturdy Whig, regarding this as leaving the victory in the hands of the Tories, proposed that a similar present should be made to Booth by the Whigs, “as he could not bear that so redoubted a champion for liberty as Cato should be bought off to the cause of a contrary party.” Booth was nothing loth to receive tribute of this kind from both sides of the house. Indeed, his reputation was so greatly enhanced by the honours paid to him, that he laid claim to a share in the management of the theatre, and in the license for the following season his name was added to the names of the existing managers. This so mortified Dogget, that he at once threw up his share in the property of the theatre, and was said to have thus abandoned an income of 1000l. per annum. However, he had already acquired a fortune by his frugality and success,