timents. There is no flesh and blood in them,
and owing to the dramatist's regard for unity of place, the play is full
of absurdities. Yet _Cato_ was received with immense applause. It was
regarded from a political aspect, and both Whig and Tory strove to turn
the drama to party account. 'The numerous and violent claps of the Whig
party,' Pope writes, 'on the one side of the theatre, were echoed back
by the Tories on the other; while the author sweated behind the scenes
with concern to find their applause proceeding more from the hand than
the head.'

In another letter he says: 'The town is so fond of it, that the orange
wenches and fruit women in the parks offer the books at the side of the
coaches, and the prologue and epilogue are cried about the streets by
the common hawkers.' It would be interesting to ascertain what there was
in the state of public affairs in the spring of 1713, which created this
enthusiasm. Swift, writing to Stella, alludes to a rehearsal of the
play, but makes no criticism upon it; and Berkeley, who was in London at
the time, and had a seat in Addison's box on the first night, is also
silent about it. In a letter written, as it happens, by Bolingbroke, on
the day that _Cato_ was produced, he indicates the signs of the time, as
they appeared to a Tory statesman: 'The prospect before us,' he writes,
'is dark and melancholy. What will happen no man is able to foretell.'

It was this sense of doubt and insecurity in the nation that gave
significance to trifles. The political atmosphere was charged with
electricity. The Tories, though in office, were far from feeling
themselves secure, and both Harley and Bolingbroke were in
correspondence with the Pretender. Atterbury, who was heart and soul
with him, had just been made a bishop, Protestant ascendancy was in
danger, the security of the country seemed to hang on the frail life of
the Queen, and the strong party spirit of the time was easily fanned
into a flame. We cannot now place ourselves in the position of the
spectators whose passions gave such popularity to _Cato_. Its mild
platitudes and rhetorical periods, its coldness and sobriety, seem ill
fitted to arouse the fervour of playgoers, but Addison, whose good luck
rarely failed him, was especially fortunate in the moment chosen for the
representation of the play. Had _Cato_ exhibited genius of the highest
order, it could not have been more successful. Cibber writes that it was
acted in London