g titter
generally audible among those of the spectators who cannot suppress
their sense of the ludicrous even in one of Shakespeare's grandest
scenes? Upon a darkened stage a ghost, skilfully attired in vaporous
draperies, may be made sufficiently impressive, as in "Hamlet," for
instance. The shade of the departed king, if tolerably treated, seldom
provokes a smile, even from the most hardened and jocose of
spectators. But in "Macbeth" the scene must be well lighted, for the
nobles, courtiers, and guests are at high banquet; and the ghost must
appear towards the front of the stage, otherwise Macbeth will be
compelled to turn his back upon the public, and his simulated horror
will be absolutely thrown away; if the actor's face cannot be seen,
his acting, of necessity, goes for little or nothing. Even in our own
days of triumphant stage illusion, it must be owned that the
presentment of Banquo's ghost still remains incomplete and
unsatisfactory; but where such adroit managers as Mr. Macready, Mr.
Charles Kean, and Mr. Phelps (to name no more) have failed, it seems
vain to hope for success. Pictorially, Banquo's ghost has fared
better, as all who are acquainted with Mr. Maclise's "Macbeth" will
readily acknowledge.

A curious fact in connection with the Banquo of Betterton's time may
here be noted. Banquo was represented by an actor named Smith; the
ghost, however, was personated by another actor--Sandford. Why this
division of the part between two performers? Smith was possessed of a
handsome face and form, whereas Sandford was of "a low and crooked
figure." He was the stage villain of his time, and was famed for his
uncomely and malignant aspect; "the Spagnolet of the stage," Cibber
calls him; but it is certainly strange that he should therefore have
enjoyed a prescriptive right to impersonate ghosts.

The attempted omission of Banquo's ghost, however, made it clear that
the old substantial shade emerging from a trap-door in the stage had
ceased to satisfy the town. Something more was required. The public
were becoming critical about their ghosts. Credit could not be given
to the spirits of the theatre if they exceeded a certain consistency.
There was a demand for something vaporous and unearthly, gliding,
transparent, mysterious. Scenic illusion was acquiring an artistic
quality. The old homely simple processes of the theatre were exploded.
The audience would only be deceived upon certain terms. Mr. Boaden,
adapting