We suppose that Sir Oliver Surface would not be deemed a part exactly in Mr. Burton's "line"; and yet, as we remember it, he invested the character with a simple dignity, and played it with manly directness and feeling.
Our memory of Mr. Graves and the Mock Duke is dim and distant; but if our readers desire another example of versatility, we commend the two parts as furnishing a most conspicuous instance.
We have never seen "Charles XII." and "The Dutch Governor" since we saw Burton as Adam Brock and Van Dunder; but we assure the play-goers of to-day that the dramas were well worth seeing long ago when Liston played in them, and equally so when his great successor appeared in them at a later period. Burton rarely played Adam Brock, and we cannot remember seeing it more than once, when it impressed us greatly. "The Dutch Governor," on the contrary, was a favorite attraction at the Chambers Street Theatre, and Burton's Van Dunder was a rich feast of mirthful enjoyment.
Pardey's "Nature's Nobleman," purporting to be an American comedy, was first produced at Burton's in 1851. The prologue, which was spoken by the manager, contained these lines:
"The drama languishes. Let us detect—
Polonius-like—the cause of this defect!
'Tis certain that the sprightliest tongue must fail
To win attention to an 'oft-told tale.'
We cannot, ever, with 'crook'd Richard' fight,
Or weep with Desdemona every night;
And even cloying is the luscious sack,
If we too often sip with 'burly Jack';
Nor, every week, will people take the trouble
To witness Hecate's cauldron hiss and bubble;
Nor can we, as we have done, hope to draw
Still on the Rivals or the Heir-at-Law.
We've seen shy 'Jack' his father's anger rouse;
We've heard Lord Dowlas 'tutored' by his spouse.
Old English comedy should now give way;
It has, like Acres' 'dammes,' had its day.
Hang up bag wigs—our study now should be
The men and the moustachios that we see.
Let us some pictures of the time provide;
Let the pen practically be applied."
Whether or no the comedy gave us "the men and the moustachios that we see," or provided "some pictures of the time," we shall not pretend to say;—one would think so, since Blake, Burton, Bland, Dyott, Mrs. Hughes, Mary Taylor, Miss Weston, and Caroline Chapman were in the cast,—but, at all events, it gave us Burton's John Smith, which was well worth a journey to see. John Smith is "gentleman" to the Earl of Leamington (Dyott), who is making an American tour. The Earl gives his attendant a two-months' holiday to enjoy himself; and Smith, having dressed within an inch of his life, is taken for the Earl, and yields to the temptation to pass himself off as such. Out of this complication arise situations ludicrous in the extreme, through which Burton moved, the dispenser of mirth without end. His "make-up," his air, his self-sufficiency, his ignorance,—of which he is grotesquely unconscious,—his blundering malapropos speeches, his frequent social collapses and absurd attempts at recovery, his facial expression at mental mishap and irresistible by-play consequent, his constant display of mimetic power, his voice, look, manner,—all together made a picture of varied humor, which kept the house in hearty laughter from his entrance to the curtain's fall.
Mr. Sudden, in Buckstone's "Breach of Promise," was still another of those peculiar parts upon which Burton lavished his supreme gift of humor; and we owe to its diverting exposition many a gladsome hour.
Funny, too, beyond measure, were Thomas Trot and Don Whiskerandos; we see the first in the many comic incidents during the voyage from Paris to London; and we see Don Whiskerandos "quit this bustling scene" by rolling himself with marvellous celerity out of sight in the folds of the stage carpet.
We have reached the end of our string, with the exception of Triplet, and should love to linger in description on the blended humor and pathos of the impersonation. Let it suffice that not even Mr. Fisher's admirable presentment can dim the recollection of Burton's masterly delineation.