[1] John Henry Brodripp Irving was born at Keinton, near Glastonbury (the scene of the tradition of the sacred thorn), February 6, 1838. In 1849 his father sent him to the private school of Dr. Pinches, in George Yard, Lombard street, London. During his school days he evinced a taste for dramatic poetry. He was placed in the office of an East India house, and might, had he liked his occupation, have become a prosperous merchant; but his ambition gravitated towards the stage. He made personal sacrifices in many ways to educate himself in the direction of his taste for dramatic work. He read plays, studied the theatre and dramatic literature, became an expert fencer, practised elocution with a famous actor, and in 1855 left London and obtained an engagement in a provincial theatre. An earnest student always, he fought his way through a world of troubles, and made his first success at the St. James Theatre, London, October 6, 1866, as Doricourt in “The Belle’s Stratagem.” He afterwards played in eccentric comedy with Toole; made a hit in melodrama at the now defunct Queen’s Theatre; then went to Paris with Sothern, and played Abel Murcot in “Our American Cousin.” Returning to London, he filled important engagements at the Gaiety and Vaudeville Theatres. His appearance at the Lyceum Theatre, London, followed. Here, after his friend, Manager Bateman, had staked and lost everything on “Fanchette,” Mr. Irving advised the production of “The Bells,” which restored the fortunes of the house, and was the beginning of a series of artistic and financial successes, both for the management and the leading actor. On the death of Mr. Bateman, and the withdrawal of his widow from the lesseeship of the theatre, Mr. Irving entered upon management. One day I hope to tell the story of his life and adventures. Placidly as the river of his fortunes may seem to have flowed since he became lessee of the Lyceum, in October, 1878, the incidents of his early struggles are not more interesting than his managerial battles and victories in these latter days of London. Pending a more complete biography, the sketch entitled “Henry Irving,” by Austin Brereton, may be consulted with advantage; its data are well founded, and its figures are correct.

[2] The following cablegram appeared in the “Herald,” on October the 18th, and it was alluded to in the editorial columns as “a hint” which “will not be lost upon the theatrical critics”:—

“London, Oct. 17, 1883.

“The ‘Standard,’ in an editorial this morning, thus appeals to America for a dispassionate judgment of Henry Irving:—

“American audiences have a favorable opportunity of showing that they can think for themselves, and do not slavishly echo the criticisms of the English press. We confess that, though one has read many eulogistic notices of Mr. Irving and listened in private to opinions of different complexions, it is difficult to find anything written respecting him that deserves to be dignified with the description of serious criticisms. Cannot New York, Boston, and Chicago supply us with a little of this material? Are we indulging vain imaginings if we hope that our cousins across the water will forget all that has been said or written about Irving and the Lyceum company this side of the ocean, and will go to see him in his chief performances with unprejudiced eyes and ears, and send us, at any rate, a true, independent, inconventional account of his gifts and graces, or the reverse?

“Most Englishmen naturally will be gratified if the people of the United States find Irving as tragic, and Miss Terry as charming, as so many people in this country consider them. But the gratification will be increased should it be made apparent that a similar conclusion has been arrived at by the exercise of independent judgment, and if in pronouncing it fresh light is thrown upon the disputed points of theatrical controversy.”

[3] The “Tribune’s” reporter drew Miss Terry’s picture with studied elaboration:—

“As she stepped with a pretty little shudder over the swaying plank upon the yacht she showed herself possessed of a marked individuality. Her dress consisted of a dark greenish-brown cloth wrap, lined inside with a peculiar shade of red; the inner dress, girt at the waist with a red, loosely folded sash, seemed a reminiscence of some eighteenth-century portrait, while the delicate complexion caught a rosy reflection from the loose flame-colored red scarf tied in a bow at the neck. The face itself is a peculiar one. Though not by ordinary canons beautiful, it is nevertheless one to be remembered, and seems to have been modelled on that of some pre-Raphaelitish saint,—an effect heightened by the aureole of soft golden hair escaping from under the plain brown straw and brown velvet hat.”

[4] These simple facts prove that, aside from his acting, with which it is not our duty to deal at present, Mr. Irving is one of the most remarkable men of this or any other age. But he is unquestionably right when he asserts that he owes his success to his acting alone. It has been said that the splendid manner in which he puts his plays upon the stage is the secret of his popularity; but he first became popular in plays which were not splendidly mounted, and his greatest financial and artistic successes have been made in pieces upon which he expended no unusual decorations. It has been said that Manager Bateman made Irving; but, as we shall presently prove, Irving made Manager Bateman in London, and has been doubly successful since Manager Bateman’s death. It has been said that his leading lady, Ellen Terry, is the Mascot of Irving’s career; but his fame was established before Miss Terry joined his company, and he has won his proudest laurels in the plays in which Miss Terry has not appeared. It has been said that the financial backing of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts gave Irving his opportunity; but he had been overcrowding the London Lyceum for years before he made the acquaintance of the Baroness. No; the unprecedented and unrivalled success of Mr. Irving has been made by himself alone. He became popular as an actor in a stock company; his popularity transformed him into a star and a manager; and, as a star and a manager, he has widened, deepened, and improved his popularity. He has won his position fairly, by his own talents and exertions, against overwhelming odds, and he has nobody to thank for it but himself, in spite of the theories which we have exploded.—Spirit of the Times, New York, Oct. 27, 1883.

[5] Speculation in theatre tickets seems now to have reached its height. Folks thought it had come to a lively pass when Sarah Bernhardt was here and some $23,000 worth of seats were disposed of for her engagement on the opening day of the sale. But, bless you, that was a mere drop in the bucket. A man named McBride, who has from keeping a small news-stand gradually come forward until he is now one of the richest of the ticket speculators, “got left,” as he picturesquely observed, on the Bernhardt affair. In other words, rival speculators got all the best seats. So McBride put twelve men on duty in front of the Star Theatre box-office three days before the Irving sales were to open, and there they stayed on duty day and night, until the window was finally thrown open. Each one of these men got ten season-tickets for the Irving engagement, which is to last four weeks. In other words, every one of these men bought two hundred and eighty tickets of admission to the Star Theatre, so that McBride now holds for the Irving season a neat little pile of three thousand three hundred and sixty tickets. They were bought at season-ticket prices of $60 per set of twenty-eight, and, therefore, cost the speculator the sum of $7,200. Now you will see how the speculator happens to have the bulge on the Irving management. The box-office price of a ticket for a single performance is $3, and even if the demand should not happen to be as immense as to warrant a long advance on the box-office tariff, McBride can sell his tickets at the regular price of $3 apiece and get the sum of $10,080 for them, which will leave him a profit of nearly $3,000 upon his short investment. There is, however, little or no likelihood that he will be obliged to resort to this manner of doing business. For the first night he has already sold seats for $10 and $15 each, and it is quite reasonable to suppose that as the time approaches, and tickets become scarce, he can advance to a still higher price. These ticket-speculators have regular customers, who willingly pay them the ordinary price they ask rather than bother about going to the box-office. When Anna Dickinson wants to visit a theatre in New York she invariably buys her tickets of Tyson, who charges her $2 for a $1.50 seat. So it is with a good many other people, particularly the rich and reckless down-town brokers, who purchase their tickets during the day, and who, rather than take the trouble to send a messenger away up to the theatre they intend to visit, go to the speculator’s branch office and pay the advance demanded for whatever they want. There are only a few regular ticket-speculators in New York. Old Fred Rullman, a Dutchman, was for a long time the chief operator in theatre tickets, but he seldom appears nowadays in any of the big deals. He works mostly in opera tickets, and is contented not to take heavy risks. McBride is the longest chance-taker of the lot. Tyson is not a risky buyer, but confines his purchases pretty closely to the demands of his regular customers.—New York Correspondent of St. Louis Spectator.

[6] This story was reprinted in several American papers. A dentist of some note in a leading city, not appreciating its satire, wrote a long letter to Mr. Irving, offering to make him a new set of teeth, on a patented system of his own, which had given great pleasure to a number of eminent American ladies and gentlemen. He enclosed a list of his clients, and the price of their teeth. As an inducement for Irving to accept his proposals, he quoted “very moderate terms,” on condition that “if satisfactory” he should “have the use of his name” in public, thus “acting up to the liberal principles of the English practitioner.”

[7] The misunderstanding between Forrest and Macready has been canvassed and discussed in most histories of the modern stage. Forrest believed that his ill-success in London was the result of a plot on the part of Macready to write him down. So fixed in his mind was this view of his failure, that brooding over it evidently unmanned him. He went to the Edinburgh Theatre (shortly before he left England for America) and hissed Macready in Hamlet. In a letter to the Pennsylvanian, Nov. 22, 1848, he wrote:—

“On the occasion alluded to, Mr. Macready introduced a fancy dance into his performance of Hamlet, which I designated as a pas de mouchoir, and which I hissed, for I thought it a desecration of the scene; and the audience thought so, too; for, a few nights afterwards, when Mr. Macready repeated the part of Hamlet with the same ‘tomfoolery,’ the intelligent audience greeted it with a universal hiss.

“Mr. Macready is stated to have said last night that he ‘had never entertained towards me a feeling of unkindness.’ I unhesitatingly pronounce this to be a wilful and unblushing falsehood. I most solemnly aver, and do believe, that Mr. Macready, instigated by his narrow, envious mind and selfish fears, did secretly—not openly—suborn several writers for the English press to write me down. Among them was one Forster, a ‘toady’ of the eminent tragedian,—one who is ever ready to do his dirty work; and this Forster, at the bidding of his patron, attacked me in print, even before I had appeared upon the London boards, and continued to abuse me at every opportunity afterwards.

“I assert also, and solemnly believe, that Mr. Macready connived, when his friends went to the theatre in London, to hiss me, and did hiss me, with the purpose of driving me from the stage; and all this happened many months before the affair at Edinburgh, to which Mr. Macready refers, and in relation to which he jesuitically remarked, that ‘until that act he never entertained towards me a feeling of unkindness.’”

It is worth while adding in this place the following interesting account of the fatal riot, which is extracted from Barrett’s life of Edwin Forrest published by Jas. R. Osgood & Co., in 1881:—

“On the 7th of May, 1848, Macready began an engagement at the Astor Place Opera House, under the management of J. H. Hackett. The theatre was packed by his enemies, and he was hooted from the stage. He prepared to return to his own country, but was persuaded by his friends to remain, in order that he might see how far the public indorsed the opposition against him. An invitation to this effect, signed by many of the best citizens of New York, was taken as a defiance by the admirers of Forrest, who prepared to meet the issue. Forrest was playing at the Broadway Theatre, and on the 16th of May, Macready, at the Astor Place house, was announced to reappear as Macbeth. The authorities had been called to the aid of the signers of the call, and when the doors were opened the theatre was instantly filled by a crowd of persons favorable to the actor, while the great mass of his enemies were excluded. These filled the street, however, while the few who did gain admission showed their opposition upon the appearance of Macready. At the first attempt the assailants were confronted by a body of Macready’s friends within the theatre too powerful to be resisted; but the majority without added a threatening reinforcement when the decisive moment for violence should arrive.

“The play was stopped. Macready, hustled from the back door in the cloak of a friend, barely escaped with his life, and the mimic tragedy within doors gave way to the approaching real tragedy without. The theatre was attacked on all sides by the mob, and its destruction seemed inevitable. Troops were called out; the order was given to disperse. The angry crowd only hooted a reply of derision. The riot act was read amid the yells and oaths of the blood-seeking rabble; stones and missiles were hurled at the Seventh Regiment; the police gave way before the overpowering numbers of the mob, and at last, the soldiers, sore pressed, wounded, and nearly demoralized by the assaults which they were not allowed to repulse, were called upon to fire. They responded with blank cartridges, which only increased the fury of the crowd. A pause, and then the order was given to load with balls. A volley was fired: the cries were hushed; the smoke cleared away; the ground was red with the blood of some thirty unfortunate men; the rioters vanished into the darkness before that hail of wrath, and the stain of blood was upon that quarrel which began far away in Old England and ended so tragically here.”

[8] Among the audience (says the “Tribune”) were Miss Ellen Terry herself, accompanied by an elderly gentleman, with gray hair, who to some was known to be Felix Moscheles, Mendelssohn’s godson, with his wife, and a young man of boyish appearance, known to many as the son of Lord Coleridge. In the other boxes were W. H. Vanderbilt, Chauncey M. Depew, Judge Brady, Augustus Schell, Algernon S. Sullivan, John H. Starin and Mrs. Starin, Howard Carroll and Mrs. Carroll, Madame Nilsson, Dr. Doremus and Mrs. Doremus, Mrs. Lester Wallack and Mrs. Arthur Wallack, Mr. and Mrs. William Bond, Mr. and Mrs. John Foord, Mrs. Charles Leland, Henry Rosener and Mrs. Rosener, and Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Moss. Among other well-known faces in the audience were noticed those of ex-Judge Horace Russell, General Horace Porter, Colonel and Mrs. Tobias, of Philadelphia; General Winslow, Dr. Fordyce Barker, George J. Gould, John Gilbert, Rafael Joseffy, Dr. Robert Laird Collier, of Chicago; Oscar Meyer and Mrs. Meyer, Mrs. John T. Raymond, Harry Edwards, Daniel Bixby, Charles Dudley Warner, John H. Bird, Mrs. John Nesbitt, Miss Jeffrey Lewis, Laurence Hutton, Mr. E. A. Buck, Mr. Whitelaw Reid, Colonel Knox, ex-Governor Dorsheimer, William Winter, and Dr. Macdonald.

[9] “Twelve Americans,” a graphic series of biographical sketches, by Howard Carroll, devotes some interesting pages to the story of John Gilbert’s life and work. For upwards of fifty years an actor, this veteran of the American stage was born on the 27th of February, 1810, at Boston, in a house “adjoining that in which Miss Cushman, the greatest of American actresses, first saw the light.” His parents were in a good position, and while they were not bigots, they did not altogether hold the theatrical profession as a highly reputable one. Young Gilbert was head of his class in declamation at the Boston High School. When he left school he was sent into a commercial house with a view to his becoming a dry-goods merchant. He disliked business, and after reciting Jaffer, in “Venice Preserved,” to the manager of the Tremont Theatre, he was granted an appearance. After opening the store where he was engaged he read with delight in the newspaper, that in the evening “a young gentleman of Boston” would make his dÉbut in the play of “Venice Preserved.” He appeared and “did well,” in spite of his uncle (who was his master), scowling at him in front. “O John! what have you done?” was the broken-hearted exclamation of his mother the next day. John had not dared to go to the store, and felt himself quite an outcast. He was forgiven, however, in due course, and made a second appearance as Sir Edward Mortimer, in “The Iron Chest.” He was successful beyond his expectations, and as “a boy actor” was praised as a phenomenon. Later he joined the stock company, and was reduced to “speaking utility” parts. Though disliking the drudgery of his place, he grew up with his work, and with the physical capacity for leading business he showed that he had also the mental strength for it. He played with Macready and Charlotte Cushman at the Princess’s Theatre, London. At the close of his engagement there he attended the leading English theatres to study actors and their methods. Thence he went to Paris to complete his studies. On his return to America he filled important engagements for some years at the old Park Theatre; then he went for a time to Boston, where he was a great favorite; and finally he joined the Wallacks, in New York, where he has familiarized the Empire city with the best interpretations of Sir Peter Teazle, old Dornton, old Hardy, Sir Anthony Absolute, Major Oakley, Master Walter, Hardcastle, Sir Harcourt Courtley, Adams, and other high-class comedy characters of the century. He is still to New York what the Elder Farren was to London.

[10] This statement and question were founded upon “The Standard’s” message, previously referred to; but which Mr. Irving himself neither saw nor heard of until within a few days of the close of his New York engagement.

[11] In “Charles the First” Irving confirmed the good impression he had made. Miss Terry received a most cordial reception, and made so excellent an impression upon the audience, both by her charming personality and admirable acting, that long before the evening was over she had firmly established herself in the good graces of her new public, who more than once, at the fall of the curtain, invited her, with every enthusiastic mark of approbation, to come before the house to receive in person its acknowledgments and congratulations. Her success was unquestionable. In the second act the curtain fell on the conclusion of one of the grandest results that any actor has achieved in New York for years. A continued succession of plaudits came from all parts of the house. The performance was profoundly conceived, acted out with infinite care, elaborated with rare skill, and invested with naturalness that deserved all praise. Irving, in his finale, merited fully every word that has been written of his power, intensity, and dramatic excellence; and he was enthusiastically called before the curtain, in order that the audience might assure him of that verdict. Miss Terry made the impression of a charming actress. There was something very captivating in the sweetness of her manner, the grace of her movements, and the musical quality of her tones. In acting, her points were made with remarkable ease and naturalness. There was an entire absence of theatrical effect, there was a simplicity of style in everything she did, a directness of method and sincerity of feeling that, as we have said, was the simplicity of true art, and yet not the exaggeration of the simplicity of nature.—New York Herald.

[12] Miss Terry was born at Coventry, Feb. 27, 1848. Her parents were members of the theatrical profession. Her first appearances on the stage were in “The Winter’s Tale” and “King John” (Mamillius and Arthur), during the Shakespearian revivals of Charles Kean, in 1858. As Prince Arthur she had repeated the success of her eldest sister Kate, who had made her first appearance in the part six years previously. Mr. Irving, during his conversations and speeches in this book of “Impressions,” has referred to the stock companies which, at one time, were the provincial schools which supplied London with its principal actors. When Ellen Terry was a girl, the late Mr. Chute presided over the fortunes of two of the best stock companies in the country. He was the lessee of the Bristol and Bath theatres, and he played his Bristol company at Bath once or twice a week. Some twenty years ago, I remember a stock company at the Bristol theatre, which included Marie Wilton, Miss Cleveland (Mrs. Arthur Sterling) Miss Mandelbert, Madge Robertson (Mrs. Kendall), and her mother, Arthur Sterling, George Rignold, William Rignold, Arthur Wood, Fosbroke, and the fathers, respectively, of Marie Wilton and Madge Robertson. At that time Kate Terry and Ellen Terry had left for London, Ellen having joined the Bristol company at the close of Charles Kean’s management of the Princess’s. She played Cupid to her sister Kate’s Diana in Brough’s extravaganza of “Endymion” at Bristol, in 1862. She made her dÉbut in London, March, 1863, as Gertrude, in the “Little Treasure.” The critics of the time recognized in her art “an absence of conventionality and affectation,” and they look back now to trace in her interpretations of “the buoyant spirits, kindly heart, and impulsive emotions” of Gertrude for the undoubted forecast of her present success, more particularly in those characters which give full play to the natural sympathetic and womanly spirit of her art. From March, 1863, till January, 1864, she played Hero, in “Much Ado About Nothing,” Mary Meredith, in “The American Cousin,” and other secondary parts. She married and left the stage while still a mere child, and was not yet twenty when she made her reappearance at the end of October, 1867, in “The Double Marriage,” adapted from the French by Charles Reade for the New Queen’s Theatre, London. She also played Mrs. Mildmay, in “Still Waters,” and Katharine in the ordinary stage version of the “Taming of the Shrew,” known as “Katharine and Petruchio.” It was in this comedy, on the 26th of December, 1867, that she and Mr. Irving first acted together. She left the theatre in January, 1868, and did not reappear on the London stage until 1874, when she succeeded Mrs. John Wood in the part of Phillippa Chester, in Charles Reade’s “Wandering Heir,” which was produced under the author’s management at the Queen’s Theatre. She afterwards joined Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft’s company at the Prince of Wales’s, and was the Portia to Mr. Coughlan’s Shylock, in the ambitious production of “The Merchant of Venice,” which was to be a new departure in the history of the famous little house near Tottenham Court Road. Shakespeare did not prosper, however, at the Prince of Wales’s, though his great comedy was daintily mounted, and Miss Terry’s Portia was as sweet and gracious as the art of the actress could make that sweet and gracious heroine. From the Bancrofts, Miss Terry went to their rivals (Mr. Hare and the Kendalls), at the Court Theatre. The sterling natural qualities which some critics noted in her method when a child, were abundantly apparent in her Olivia, a fresh, graceful, touching performance, of which “Punch” said, January 11,1879, “If anything more intellectually conceived or more exquisitely wrought out than Miss Terry’s Ophelia has been seen on the English stage in this generation, it has not been within ‘Punch’s’ memory.” She closed her engagement at the Court Theatre on the offer of Mr. Irving to take the position of leading lady at the Lyceum Theatre, where she made her first appearance, December 30, 1878, and since which time she has shared with him the honors of a series of such successes as are unparalleled in the history of the stage. They include the longest runs ever known of “Hamlet,” “The Merchant of Venice,” “Romeo and Juliet,” and “Much Ado About Nothing.” This is not the place to do more than give these brief, biographic notes of a brilliant career. But one is tempted to quote a singularly happy sketch of Miss Ellen Terry which appeared on the eve of her departure for America in the “St. Stephen’s Review,” July, 1883: “It is well for the stage that it possesses such a gift as Ellen Terry. The age is, on the whole, terribly unromantic and commonplace; it deals in realism of a very uncompromising form; it calls a spade a spade, and considers sentiment an unpardonable affectation. But Ellen Terry is the one anachronism that the age forgives; she is the one living instance of an ideal being that the purists pardon. As she stands before these cold critics in her classical robes as Camma; as she drags at their heartstrings as the forlorn and abandoned Olivia; as she trips upon the stage as Beatrice; as she appears in a wondrous robe of shot-red and gold, or clothed ‘in white samite, mystic, wonderful,’ as Ophelia, or, as she falls a-weeping as the heart-broken queen on the breast of Charles the First, even these well-balanced natures pronounce her inexplicable but charming. She is the one actress who cannot be criticised; for is she not Ellen Terry?”

[13] All that has been said in recognition of Mr. Irving’s intellectual leadership, and of his puissant genius and beautiful and thorough method of dramatic art, was more than justified by his impersonation of Louis XI., given, yesterday afternoon, before an audience mainly composed of actors, at the Star Theatre. He has not, since the remarkable occasion of his first advent in America, acted with such a noble affluence of power as he displayed in this splendid and wonderful effort. It was not only an expression, most vivid and profound, of the intricate, grisly, and terrible nature of King Louis; it was a disclosure of the manifold artistic resources, the fine intuition, the repose, and the commanding intellectual energy of the actor himself. An intellectual audience—eager, alert, responsive, quick to see the intention almost before it was suggested, and to recognize each and every point, however subtle and delicate, of the actor’s art—seemed to awaken all his latent fire, and nerve him to a free and bounteous utterance of his own spirit; and every sensitive mind in that numerous and brilliant throng most assuredly felt the presence of a royal nature, and a great artist in acting. Upon Mr. Irving’s first entrance the applause of welcome was prodigious, and it was long before it died away. More than one scene was interrupted by the uncontrollable enthusiasm of the house, and eight times in the course of the performance Mr. Irving was called back upon the scene. A kindred enthusiasm was communicated to the other actors, and an unusual spirit of emulation pervaded the entire company and representation.... At the close there was a tumult of applause, and the expectation seemed eager and general that Mr. Irving would personally address the assembly. He retired, however, with a bow of farewell. “Louis XI.” will be repeated to-night.—The Tribune, November 21.

[14] Henry Edwards was born at Ross, Herefordshire, England, August, 1831. He finished his education under the Rev. Abraham Lander, son of the friend of Robert Burns, and studied for the law in his father’s office. In 1848 he became a member of the Western Dramatic Amateur Society. In 1853 he emigrated to Australia, passed three years in the bush, and went on the stage professionally, at the Queen’s Theatre, Melbourne, under the management of Charles Young, then the husband of Mrs. Herman Vezin, who was the leading lady. After supporting the late Gustavus V. Brooke, he went, as leading man, to Tasmania, under the management of Charles Poole. He again joined Brooke, and for six or seven years was his second, playing Iago, Macduff, De Maupry, Icilius, etc., becoming manager of Theatre Royal, Melbourne, for G. V. Brooke, in 1861. He afterwards travelled with Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, playing Falconbridge, Henry VIII., Coitier, etc. In 1865 he went to New Zealand, and managed theatres in Auckland and Hokitiki. He left the colonies early in 1866, passed four months in Lima, giving, in all, thirty-three performances in the Peruvian capital, aided by a small company. He also gave entertainments in Panama. Arrived in San Francisco, October, 1866, under an engagement to Thomas Maguire, opened in that city as Othello to the Iago of John McCullough, and afterwards played Pythias, Sir Anthony Absolute, Sir Peter Teazle, Marc Anthony, and Sir John Falstaff. At the opening of the California Theatre he joined Barrett and McCullough’s company, and remained to the close of the latter’s management. He went to New York in 1879, and opened at Wallack’s Theatre (now the Star), in Byron’s comedy of “Our Girls,” and has been ever since a member of Wallack’s company, of which he is now Stage Director. He is an earnest entomologist, and has one of the largest private collections of insects in the world, numbering over 260,000 specimens. Has written much on his favorite study, as well as many magazine and other articles; is the author of “Pacific Coast Lepidoptera,” and a volume of sketches called “A Mingled Yarn”; is engaged to write the article on “Butterflies,” for Kingsley’s Standard Natural History, in association with Asa Gray, Prof. Baird, Prof. Packard, A. Agassiz, and other distinguished naturalists; and was five years President of the Bohemian Club, San Francisco, three years Vice-President of the California Academy of Sciences, and one year President of the Lambs Club, New York.

[15] On a later occasion Mr. Curtis (whose eloquence on the platform and in the press, and whose independent career in politics, are familiar to all Americans and to many English) and Mr. Joseph Harper had a box to see “The Merchant of Venice.” Irving invited them to go behind the scenes, and afterwards to join him at supper in his room at the Brevoort. Mr. Curtis said it was the first time he had been on that side of the foot-lights. “I am not sure whether I regret it or not; I think I am sorry to have the illusion of that last lovely scene at Belmont set aside even for a moment.” While he was talking to Miss Terry in her dress as the Lady of Belmont, Loveday’s men were bringing on some of the scenery of “The Lyons Mail.” Said Harper, “Behind the scenes is always to me a good deal like the ‘tween decks of a ship; the discipline is just as strict, too.” During the evening after supper Mr. Curtis discussed with his host the question of how much an actor may lose himself in a part, and still have full control over it and himself. Irving said circumstances sometimes influenced an actor. An event which had disturbed him during the day might give extra color to his acting at night. In fact an actor is influenced by all sorts of causes,—as all other people are in their daily work,—by health or weather. Sometimes the presence of a friend in front, or some current occurrence of the moment, or piece of bad or good news, might influence him; but, as a rule, after an actor had played a particular part for a long time, he generally played it very much in the same way every night. “There is a story,” he said, “of Kean and Cooper which is to the purpose. A friend met Kean, and told him that on a particular night he was at the theatre, and thought that Kean played Othello better than ever he had seen him play it. ‘Gad, sir,’ he said,’ I thought you would have strangled Iago outright!’ Now we come to the solution of this extra energy which had impressed Kean’s friend. ‘Oh, yes,’ said Kean; ‘it was a Tuesday night, I remember; Cooper tried to get me out of the focus!’ In those days the theatre was lighted with oil lamps, and only at one particular place on the stage could the actors be seen. To be in the light was to be in the focus; and that accounts for the old habit they had of getting into a line along the foot-lights.”

[16] Among the gentlemen present on this occasion were Messrs. Daniel Huntington (the president), Gilbert M. Speir (vice-president), A. R. MacDonough (secretary), Henry A. Oakey (treasurer), F. A. P. Barnard (President of Columbia College), Albert Bierstadt (the artist), Noah Brooks (journalist and author), L. P. di Cesnola, S. S. Conant; Profs. Botta, Dwight, Flint, Alexander, and Lusk; Judges Choate, Brown, and Daily; Bishop Potter, the Rev. Dr. Rylance, the Rev. Dr. Storrs, the Rev. Dr. Brooks; the Honorables John Bigelow, John Hay, J. G. Forrest, and Edward Mitchell; Mr. Joseph Drexel (the banker), ex-Governor William Dorsheimer, ex-Mayor Edward Cooper, Col. Goddard, Gen. Cullum and Gen. Horace Porter, Dr. George Otis, and Messrs. W. Dodge, Wm. M. Evarts, Cyrus W. Field, Swain Gifford, Richard W. Gilder, Quincy A. Gillmore, Parke Godwin, H. H. Gorringe, I. H. Gourlie, G. S. Greene, M. K. Jessup, S. E. Lane, Francis F. Marbury, C. H. Marshall, H. D. Noyes, O. Ottendorfer, H. E. Pellew, Whitelaw Reid, Jas. Renouck, R. G. Remson, A. Thorndike Rice, William Bond, J. F. Ruggles, John O. Sargent, W. Satterlee, Clarence A. Seward, R. H. Stoddard, H. C. Van Vorst, Theodore Weston, Alfred Wilkinson, and many other well-known members of the club and their friends.

[17] This was a very notable gathering on November 18. In nearly every case the guests came from long distances. They were all men of distinction in their several walks of life. Among them were, James H. Rutter, President New York Central & Hudson River Railway; Hon. Noah Davis, Chief Justice Supreme Court, State of New York; Geo. R. Blanchard, Vice-President New York, Lake Erie, & Western Railway; Gen. Horace Porter, President New York, West Shore, & Buffalo Railway; John B. Carson, Vice-President and General Manager Hannibal & St. Joseph Railway, Hannibal, Mo.; Col. P. S. Michie, U.S. Army, West Point; Hon. A. J. Vanderpoel, New York; Hon. Wm. Dorsheimer, Member of Congress and ex-Lieut.-Governor New York; Col. L. M. Dayton, Gen. Sherman’s Chief of Staff during the war, Cincinnati, O.; Jas. N. Matthews, Proprietor Buffalo “Express,” Buffalo, N.Y.; Hon. Henry Watterson, ex-M.C. and editor “Courier Journal,” Louisville, Ky.; Col. Wm. V. Hutchings, Governor’s Staff, Boston, Mass.; Col. H. G. Parker, Proprietor “Saturday Evening Gazette,” Boston, Mass.; Col. Wm. Edwards, Cleveland, O.; Hon. L. J. Powers, Springfield, Mass.; Hon. M. P. Bush, Buffalo, N.Y.; John B. Lyon, Chicago, Ill.; Hon. A. Oakey Hall, ex-Mayor of New York City; Lord Bury, W. J. Florence, William Winter, Stephen Fiske, J. H. French, and Chas. Wyndham. The dinner was not reported in the press; nor were several other entertainments which are briefly sketched in the pages of these “Impressions.”

The Chief Justice spoke in eloquent terms of Lord Coleridge, whom the American bar and bench had been proud to honor, and who, in his private and public life, realized the highest ideal of the American people. “It is our desire,” he said, “the sincerest wish of America, to like the English people. We are always afraid that our visitors from the old country will not let us like them. When they do, and we can honestly respond, we are glad.” Presently, alluding to Irving, he said, “We have watched your career over a long period of time, through the New York papers. We were prepared to be interested in you, and to bid you welcome. No people are more moved than ours to exercise their free and unbiased judgment. We have done so in your case, and are proud to acknowledge the greatness of the work you have done; to welcome you and to take your hand, not only for what you have achieved in England, but for what you have done for us in America.”

Ex-Mayor Oakey Hall, in the course of some remarks supplementary of the speech of the Lord Chief Justice, said, “A morning cable despatch informs me that the Millais portrait of our guest was yesterday added to the walls of the Garrick Club, in completion of its gallery of David Garrick’s legitimate successors. But on the walls of our memories to-night has been hung the original,—impressive features, poetic eyes and hair, and a face so bright that it this moment reflects our looks of personal affection. I have had the personal felicity, thrice within the past fortnight, of seeing our guest in the serenity of private life. Friends knowing this have said to me, ‘How did you like Henry Irving on the stage?’ And I have answered, ‘I have not yet seen Mr. Irving act.’ True, I had seen on the stage of the Star Theatre, Mathias, and Charles the First, and Louis the Eleventh, and Shylock, and Duboscq and Lesergne, and against these characters I had seen printed on the bills of the play the name of Henry Irving; but never had it otherwise occurred to me, as an auditor, that the guest now before us,—original of the Millais picture,—and whom I saw at the banquets of the Lotos and Manhattan clubs, was representing these characters. On the contrary, I cannot connect Henry Irving, the gentleman of private life, with the actor. If you say he is the same, I must believe you. Indeed, I am now conscious of having lived in the seventeenth century, and of having beheld the veritable Charles as a man caressing his children and his Henrietta Maria,—a wife rather than a queen,—on the banks of the Thames, at Hampton Court, or as Majesty rebuking Oliver Cromwell. Nay, I have stood with Charles himself in the Whitehall Chamber of Death, and with my own streaming eyes I have witnessed his touching farewell of home and earth. I have forgotten the merchants of New York in the boxes, and I have really seen Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. I have seen the dreaming victim of remorse. I have lived in the war-rent realms of France, while Louis the Eleventh infected his court with his own moral leprosy. I have known in ‘The Lyons Mail,’ the self-respecting and shrinking merchant, and I have known his double, the besotted brute of a murderer. They are all realities to me at this moment. If you again tell me one man personated all these, and that this one man was the original yonder of the Millais portrait, I must believe you, for your honor’s sake. During an active career of a quarter century I never had seen an approach to such a surrender of personal identity in an actor, nor such a surrender of the peculiarities of one representation when the actor grasped another. How all this contradicts a lively writer in the current (November) number of Clement Scott’s ‘Theatre,’ who declares that every great success of the stage is due to a correspondence of the natural peculiarities of an actor with the fictional peculiarities of the character portrayed! Is yonder gentleman a victim to remorse? Is he a Shylock? Is he a Duboscq? Has he the soul of a Charles? Least of all, has he one peculiarity of Louis? No. Then these great successes are won—if yonder guest be the actor—by a destruction of personal peculiarities and by portraying his own precise opposites, in his human nature. You have all seen these recently enacted characters. You now—some of you for the first time—behold the man Henry Irving, and hear him converse. To you as a jury, then, I appeal. Am I not right? Is not my experience yours?” (Aye!—Yes!—Yes!—and great applause.)

[18] “Bathed in their own liquor.”—Sir Henry Thompson.

[19] In case this charge against Irving should be exploited by the “little English correspondent” who undertakes to describe his “Palace on the Thames,” let me say that for one who talks so well about eating, Irving—next to a great authority on gourmandize—recently dead, alas!—is the most moderate diner I know. He discourses of dishes with the eloquence of Brillat Savarin, and eats as frugally as the “Original Walker” did, and is as easily contented as was my late friend, Blanchard Jerrold (“Fin-Bec”), who wrote so much, and always so well, about the art of dining, that those who did not know him might naturally have regarded him as a gourmand. He knew the literature of “the table” thoroughly, but lived as simply as Irving does. It will be noted that it is the simplicity of the dinner under notice that awakens Irving’s enthusiasm. New York, by the way, has many restaurants, in addition to its most famous one (Delmonico’s) and the house in Lafayette place. The Hoffman House and the Brunswick are well-known for their excellent cuisine. Among the hotels that are equally famous for their chefs are the Everett House, the Windsor, the St. James, the Victoria, and the Clarendon. The latter is to New York what such establishments as Morley’s and the oldest West End hotels are to London. It is one of the pleasantest, and certainly the quietest, of New York houses. There are very bad hotels in the United States, and very good ones; dear hotels, and hotels where the charges are fair; but the general idea of uniform excellence and uniform dearness which obtains in England is incorrect. One class of houses which the English traveller misses is the comfortable family inn or tavern (where the landlord and landlady are in evidence all the time), common in England, France, and Germany; and the other absent luxuries, for the lack of which oysters and canvas-back ducks do not altogether compensate him, are the mutton-chop, the beefsteak, the ham and bacon, the sole, salmon, and bloaters of his own country.

[20] “The difference between a gourmet and gourmand we take to be this: a gourmet is he who selects, for his nice and learned delectation, the most choice delicacies, prepared in the most scientific manner; whereas the gourmand bears a closer analogy to that class of great eaters, ill-naturedly (we dare say) denominated or classed with aldermen.”—Haywood’s Art of Dining.

[21] These lines were written by Mrs. Marion Fortescue, a lady well known in New York society.

[22] Mr. Irving presented a Hamlet last evening that was entirely consistent with itself and with the play, and the most virile, picturesque, and lovable Hamlet that has been seen on the stage. There was great variety in his moods and manners. He realized Goethe’s idea of a born prince,—gentle, thoughtful, and of most moral nature, without the strength of nerve to make a hero, and overcome by the responsibility put upon him by a vision whose message he alternately accepts and doubts. There was, indeed, the fullest variety given to the part; it was dramatically interesting, and a clearly marked, intelligent study that more than realized the expectations that had been formed of the personation.—Philadelphia Ledger.

[23] Distinguished Visitors.—The “Evening Call” band of fifty-one pieces and the “Evening Call” flute and drum corps, numbering thirty-five pieces, making a total of eighty-six performers, formed before the Union League building this morning, and proceeded down Broad street a few yards, to the Hotel Bellevue, and tendered a complimentary serenade to the distinguished English actor, Henry Irving. Several delightful airs, including “God Save the Queen,” were rendered with fine effect. Mr. J. H. Coplestone, Mr. Abbey’s manager for Mr. Irving, acknowledged the compliment on behalf of the eminent tragedian. The band then proceeded to the Aldine Hotel, where Miss Ellen Terry, Mr. Irving’s leading lady, was serenaded, following which the musicians gave a short street parade. At the conclusion of the serenade Mr. Irving sent the following pleasant little note to the office of the “Evening Call”:—

“Hotel Bellevue, Philadelphia,

29th November (‘Thanksgiving Day’), 1883.

“To the Editor of the Evening Call:—

“My Dear Sir,—Upon this day of universal thankfulness allow me to add a personal item. My thanks to you and your magnificent band for the honor done to me this morning by their serenade. I enjoyed the music much, and beg to add my tribute of praise to the worth of your band which, to my mind, is amongst the best I have heard. To hear the strains of the national anthem of my own dear land here and on such a day touched me much, and assures me again in a forcible manner of the strength of the affection between the two countries, America and England.

“Believe me to be, dear sir, yours very faithfully,

“HENRY IRVING.”

—Evening Call.

[24] The youngest member, who is provided with a tall chair, a rattle, and other things indicative of his “clover” childhood.

[25] The documentary evidence handed to Irving as establishing the identity of the watch are, (1.) a copy of the catalogue of the sale by auction of “the estate of Edwin Forrest, deceased,” at Davis & Harvey’s Art Galleries, No. 1212 Chestnut street, Philadelphia, on Feb. 4, 1883. (2.) A copy of the Supplementary catalogue of “the personal effects of Edwin Forrest,” which sets forth twenty-eight articles, including a silver watch. (3.) The auctioneer’s receipt for “One silver watch, the property of Edwin Forrest,” and (4.) a voucher from Mr. Donaldson, in which he states that, until he presented it to Mr. Irving, the watch had never been out of his possession from the time that he bought it. Mr. Donaldson is a collector of bric-À-brac, and possesses many interesting relics of the stage. On Irving’s second visit to Philadelphia we called upon him and inspected some of his miscellaneous treasures. They covered a wide range of interest,—antiquarian, geological, historical, artistic, and literary. A white-haired, picturesque-looking old gentleman was there to meet us. “How like Tennyson!” exclaimed Irving. The interesting visitor was Walt Whitman. He expressed great satisfaction on being told that he was well known in England, and, in an amused way, he stood up, that Irving might judge if he was as tall as Tennyson. It is a milder face, and less rugged in its lines, than the face of the great English poet; but, in other respects, suggests the author of “In Memoriam.”

[26] The Boston was built in 1854 by a stock company. It was opened on the 11th September in that year, under the management of the late Thomas Barry, and for some time was in the hands of Junius Brutus Booth. After a time the company gave up the theatre, and it was acquired by Messrs. Thayer and Tompkins. On the death of Mr. Thayer, Mr. Tompkins associated with himself Mr. Hill, who had been a prominent stockholder, and they have since continued as proprietors. Mr. Eugene Tompkins, son of the chief proprietor, is the general manager.—King’s Boston.

[27] Mr. Oliver Ditson, General Blackmar and party, Mr. Joseph Thorpe, and Mrs. Ole Bull. In the body of the house were seen General Devens, Colonel Henry Lee, Mr. J. R. Osgood, Colonel Fairchild, Mr. T. B. Aldrich, Mr. Boyle O’Reilly, Mr. Robert Treat Paine, Professor Pierce, of Cambridge, Mr. S. H. Russell, Mr. Charles F. Sherwin, Mr. Thomas G. Appleton, Mr. Hamilton Wild, Mr. B. C. Porter, ex-Mayor Green, Colonel W. V. Hutchins, General Whittier, Mr. A. V. S. Anthony, Mr. Arthur Dexter, Mr. George H. Chickering, Mr. Curtis Guild, Colonel H. G. Parker, Hon. R. M. Morse, Jr., Mr. H. M. Ticknor, Colonel W. W. Clapp, Mr. Martin Brimmer, Signor Ventura, Mr. T. R. Sullivan, Mr. Higginson, Mr. Hemenway, Mr. Matt. Luce, Hon. W. D. Davis, of Plymouth, Mr. George Riddle, Mr. Henry M. Rogers, Mr. Edes, Mr. Ellerton Pratt, Mr. Arthur Dodd, Mr. Alanson Bigelow, and many others of eminent social, literary, and artistic position. William Warren, with many professionals, was present, while, of course, Mr. Henry E. Abbey and his staff, as well as city managers and theatre folk, were represented. Most of the gentlemen who attended were accompanied by ladies, and the house, as seen from the stage, presented a very brilliant appearance.—The Globe.

[28] As the position which Mr. John Gilbert holds in New York is akin to that which the elder Farren held in London, so the position which Mr. William Warren occupies in Boston is akin to that which Mr. Buckstone (“Bucky,” as his particular friends called him) held in the English metropolis. Mr. Warren’s Dogberry and Paul Pry are among the pleasantest reminiscences of Boston play-goers. It fell to Irving’s lot to meet Mr. Warren frequently, and perhaps no actor ever received greater compliments from two veterans of his craft than Irving received from Gilbert and Warren. While the favorite of New York never missed an Irving performance at the Star Theatre, his famous contemporary of Boston not only attended all the Lyceum performances at Boston, but later, when Irving went to Chicago, Mr. Warren paid his relatives a visit in the western city, and was as constant an attendant at Haverly’s during the Irving engagement as he was at the Boston Theatre.

[29] Ladies’ Night at the Papyrus.—The Ladies’ Night entertainment of the Papyrus Club, which has come to be accepted as one of the annual features of that organization, took place at the Revere House last night, and the occasion proved to be one of exceptional interest and brilliancy. The Papyrus includes in its membership a large number of clever men, and, with their guests who assembled last evening to partake of the club’s hospitality, the company made up a most delightful and distinguished gathering. The after-dinner exercises, which were not permitted to be reported in full, were of a most entertaining character; the speeches of the distinguished gentlemen guests, and the contributions in prose and verse by some of the members of the club, being very bright and enjoyable. The members and their guests assembled in the hotel parlors at six o’clock, where they were received by the president of the club, Mr. George F. Babbitt, assisted by Miss Fay. Music was furnished by the Germania Orchestra, and, after an hour spent in introductory ceremonies, the members and their guests, numbering altogether one hundred and twenty ladies and gentlemen, proceeded to the dining-hall and sat down to the dinner-table, which was arranged in horseshoe form. The tables were artistically decorated with flowers, and at each plate was placed a dinner-card, bearing the name of each guest, and a menu of an exceedingly artistic design, the front cover bearing a photograph of the club paraphernalia, very cleverly grouped, and bearing the inscription: “Papyrus, Ladies’ Night. December 15th, MDCCCLXXXIII.” President Babbitt sat in the centre, with Miss Fay at his right and Miss Ellen Terry at his left. On either side of the president were seated Miss Alcott, Mr. Joseph Hatton, Dr. Burnett and Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, Gen. Francis A. Walker and Mrs. Walker, Mr. Henry Cabot Lodge, Captain Story, U.S.A.; Mr. Guy Carleton, of New York, editor of “Life,” and Mr. J. A. Mitchell, assistant editor; Rev. and Mrs. Brooke Hereford, Dr. John G. Blake and Mrs. Blake, Mr. W. H. Rideing and Mrs. John Lillie, the author of “Prudence,” and Rev. and Mrs. H. B. Carpenter. Among the other members and guests present were Miss Nora Perry and Miss Noble, the author of “A Reverend Idol”; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Grant, Mr. F. J. Stimson, the author of “Guerndale,” and Mrs. Stimson; Dr. Harold Williams, the author of “Mr. and Mrs. Morton”; Mr. Arthur Rotch and Mrs. Van Renssellaer, Mr. and Mrs. W. F. Apthorp, Mr. A. H. Dodd, Mrs. Dodd, and Miss Dodd; Mr. Henry M. Rogers and Mr. George Abbot James; Miss Gage, Mr. and Mrs. Howard M. Ticknor, and Mrs. S. A. Bigelow; Mrs. C. H. Washburne, Mr. George Snell, Mrs. Bacon, and Mrs. Charles Whitmore; Mr. Alexander Young, Mr. George Roberts, Mr. John T. Wheelwright, Mr. L. S. Ipsen, Mr. Alexander Browne and Miss Edmundson, Mr. Frank Hill Smith, and Mrs. Henry Fay; Mr. Arlo Bates, Dr. and Mrs. James Chadwick, Colonel Theodore A. Dodge, and Mrs. Crowninshield; Mr. and Mrs. F. P. Vinton, Mr Francis Peabody, Jr.; Mr. Russell Sullivan, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Albert Prince, Miss Minot, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Prince, Mr. and Mrs. F. V. Parker, Mr. and Mrs. E. L. Osgood, Mr. and Mrs. George M. Towle, Mr. H. G. Pickering, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Sayward, and Mrs. R. G. Shaw; Mr. T. O. Langerfelt, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Foote, Mr. Sigourney Butler, Miss Butler, and Miss Shimmin; Mr. and Mrs. R. G. Fitch, Mr. and Mrs. George B. Goodwin, Mr. W. B. Clarke, Mr. and Mrs. C. A. Campbell, Mr. G. W. Chadwick, Mr. Preston, Mr. and Mrs. F. E. Wright, Mrs. G. A. Gibson, Mr. and Mrs. L. L. Scaife, and Mr. and Mrs. J. E. Woods. At the conclusion of the dinner the president proposed the health of the assembled company in the loving-cup, in accordance with a time-honored custom of the Papyrus, the cup passing from guest to guest until it had made the rounds of the tables. Many of the gentlemen were merrily cheered as they rose to drink from the cup, as were many of the distinguished ladies, who, without rising, simply touched the cup to their lips. After this interesting ceremony had been gone through with, the president welcomed the company in a brief speech, concluding with a toast to the lady guests, which was drunk standing by the gentlemen present. Rev. H. Bernard Carpenter was called upon to respond to the toast, which he did in a neat speech, in which pleasant allusions were made to the distinguished ladies of the company and their work. He was followed by Mr. John T. Wheelwright, the secretary of the club, who gave a very bright burlesque report of the proceedings of the monthly Papyrus meetings. It was made up of clever imitations of the poetic and prose contributions of the more active members of the Papyrus, and its numerous hits were received with shouts of laughter. Mr. T. R. Sullivan then read a charming bit of prose; and then came a bright and humorous contribution from Mr. Robert Grant, who described, in a very funny way, his experiences as a member of the committee on ladies’ night some years ago. It abounded in witty allusions to the antics of some of the members of the club, and, although the names of the characters who figured in the sketch were assumed for the occasion, the references to the members of the club were readily recognized. Mr. Howard M. Ticknor was then introduced, and read a poem addressed to Miss Terry, concluding with a toast in honor of the distinguished lady, the mention of whose name elicited enthusiastic applause. Mr. Joseph Hatton responded handsomely for Miss Terry, thanking the company for their very cordial welcome, and the Papyrus for their elegant hospitality. Mr. Arlo Bates read some very pretty songs, and Mr. Guy Carleton responded to a toast in honor of “Life,” the clever New York paper. Mr. W. H Sayward gave one of his excellent imitations, and the entertainment concluded with the performance of “a burlesque operatic monodrama,” entitled “Titi.” The sole dramatis persona, Titi, was assumed by Mr. Wm. F. Apthorp, who sang and recited the monodrama in costume, being accompanied on the piano by Mr. Arthur Foote. The performance of this bright musical composition occupied nearly half an hour, and it was acted and sung by Mr. Apthorp with exquisite chic and drollery, serving as a fitting finale to the very pleasant after-dinner entertainment. The company arose from the tables at about half-past ten o’clock, and soon after separated, many of the gentlemen going to the St. Botolph Club reception to Mr. Irving, which was appointed for eleven o’clock.—Boston Saturday Evening Gazette.

[30] In America “chestnut” is a slang phrase for an old story.

[31] In the second act there were occasionally passages where Mr. Irving spoke one or more lines in a manner which so nearly touched the heart with sadness, so closely appealed to the feelings, that nothing but the brilliancy of his art stood between. His interview with Cromwell was something grand. The patience shown could hardly belong to anything less than royalty, and the majestic tone thrown into the line, “Uncover in the presence of your king,” indicated a conception of conscious authority which could hardly be improved. But by far the greatest artistic triumph was his delivery of the short speech at the close of the third act. The tone in which the lines were spoken was simply grand, and when they were finished the pity of the audience was instinctively bestowed upon the betrayer rather than the betrayed. Miss Terry as the queen won a considerable success. Her sincere love and devotion to the king and her children were exhibited by the finest tokens, and with a simplicity which would not admit the thought of extravagance or affection. Her appeal to Cromwell for the life of the king was well worthy a queen; but her disdainful refusal of the offer to release him in case he would abdicate was something remarkable and unique. But her brightest laurel was won in the final parting with the king as he went to the execution. The little shriek she utters at the king when he breaks the embrace in which she holds him, appealed directly to the emotions, and seemed to be the cry of a heart that was breaking.—Boston Post.

[32] The trouble touching some of the “Interviews” that appeared in the journals was that they were not all genuine. Fiske suggested this fact as discounting a “Christmas chat”; but I undertook to endorse his work by “annexing” his “interview” to these pages, and I have to thank him for his bright contribution.

[33] A very large delegation of the members of the Hamilton Club received Mr. Henry Irving in the rooms of the club last night, after the close of the performance at Haverly’s. The honors of the club were done by its President, Mr. Samuel McLean, and Mr. Irving was introduced by him to the members present. Among those who attended to do honor to the great actor were the Rev. Dr. Putman, the Rev. C. Cuthbert Hall, the Rev. Harry Lacy, Judge Van Cott, Henry E. Pierrepont, H. E. Sanger, S. B. Duryea, Dr. Kissam, Howard Van Sinderen, J. S. T. Stranahan, Gordon L. Ford, Professor West, Alfred C. Barnes, Dr. McCorkle, E. A. Packard, Amos Robbins, J. Spencer Turner, Alex. Cameron, Edward Barr, Colonel Partridge, John Notman, J. S. Noyes, H. E. Ide, Clinton Tucker, Ernest Jackson, Raymond Jenkins, F. Abbott Ingalls, W. T. Lawrence, Frank Hines, Arnold Hastings, Gus. Recknagel, A. Van Sinderen, Joseph Youmans, H. E. Dodge, Dr. Burge, Robert Ogden, Leander Waterbury, Wm. Sanger, Dr. Colton, John King, H. D. Atwater, and John Foord. The reception was arranged for at twenty-four hours’ notice, Mr. Irving’s ability to attend not being known to most of the members of the club before yesterday morning. Mr. Irving, who was accompanied by his stage-manager, Mr. Loveday, and by Mr. Joseph Hatton, expressed himself as extremely gratified by the cordiality of his reception.—Brooklyn Union, Jan. 4, 1884.

[34] A reception was given to Mr. Henry Irving, the distinguished English actor, by Dr. Wm. H. Crim, at his residence, 185 W. Fayette street, last evening. At the close of the performance at the Academy, Mr. Irving, accompanied by his stage-manager, H. J. Loveday; acting manager, Bram Stoker; J. H. Copleston, and James H. Plaser, representing Manager Abbey, of New York, and Mr. Joseph Hatton, the English author, drove to Dr. Crim’s residence, where they were received by the host, and presented to a number of journalists, representing the city press, and other gentlemen. Among those present were Messrs. John W. McCoy, Wm. T. Croasdale, John V. Hood, Innes Randolph, Harry J. Ford, Henry D. Beall, C. M. Fairbanks, E. N. Vallandigham, Frederick L. Holmes, Prof. Charles G. Edwards, Samuel W. Fort, Manager of the Academy; Harry P. Wilson, Harry F. Powell, Harry J. Conway, Charles F. Meany, John W. Albaugh, of Holliday-street Theatre; Chas. Reynolds and W. I. Cook. The affair was wholly informal, but was apparently all the more agreeable on that account. Mr. Irving, upon being presented, expressed his gratification at meeting the representatives of the Baltimore press, and during the evening manifested the utmost cordiality of manner. He is a delightful conversationalist, and for a couple of hours entertained groups of attentive listeners. His impressions of Baltimore, as far as he had seen, were very favorable, and he was much pleased with the audiences that had greeted him during the week at the Academy. Speaking of the Academy, he remarked that its acoustic properties—a rare quality in a theatre of that size—were among the very best he had ever known. About midnight the visitors repaired to the dining-room, where a tempting repast, with choice wines, was enjoyed. Adjourning thence to the library, the guests indulged in a fragrant Havana, and another hour slipped by almost unconsciously in pleasant social intercourse. During the evening Mr. Irving appeared much interested in the rare collection of antiques, art-works, bric-À-brac, and articles of virtu that adorn the parlor and library of the genial host, and in the collection of which he has spent much time and labor.—The Day (Baltimore), Dec. 28, 1883.

[35] The colored gentleman who asked me, during the “wild railway journey” of a previous chapter, if I used “sticking plaster,” referred to the exploits of the James boys. Their murderous adventures, I find, cover a period of over twenty years, beginning, some people allege, with a sort of guerilla warfare during the war. A reward was offered a few years ago for the capture of the leader, Jesse James, dead or alive, and he was treacherously murdered by one of his confederates, who, being tried and sentenced to death, was reprieved and rewarded in accordance with the State proclamation. He and several other members of the gang are still occasionally before the courts, I believe, on various charges; some appealing to the superior power of the law, others working out their various sentences, and some of them free. One of their most daring adventures is a tragedy that is not likely to be forgotten in the criminal history of America. The story is to railway travel, so far as the mere robbery itself is concerned, what the robbery of “The Lyons Mail” is to the history of posting in France and England a century ago. It is a truly dramatic story, in two acts. The first scene discovers the postmaster and two or three friends of the village of Glendale, at a flag station on the Kansas City branch of the Chicago & Alton Railway. It is a pleasant October evening. Suddenly they are made prisoners by a band of twelve masked and heavily-armed men. They are marched to the little railway station, where the telegraph-operator, an old woman, and the railway auditor, are added to the number. They comprise the entire population of the very picturesque and romantic station. The telegraphic instrument is destroyed, and the station-master compelled to lower his signal lights and stop the mail then due. This ends the first act. The second is the arrival of the train, the sudden and expert seizure of engine-driver and guard (the latter battered almost to death with the but-end of a pistol), the overawing of the passengers with revolvers, and the plunder of the mails. Horses are then brought up to the track, the men mount with their booty, and order the train to proceed. As the cars move away, the robbers write a despatch that the telegraph-operator is directed to send off as soon as his instrument is in order:—“We are the boys who are hard to handle, and we will make it hot for the boys who try to take us. Signed, Jesse and Frank James, Jack Bishop, Irwin Cohens, Cool Carter,” etc. The plunder was thirty thousand dollars in gold.

[36] Mr. Abbey’s excellent business manager and treasurer.

[37] Miss Ellen Terry is said to have a broad knowledge and high appreciation of decorative art. During the past two or three days she has been doing Michigan and Prairie avenues in this city with a critical eye. “I noticed a good many houses,” she says, “that I did not like at all, but many others that are truly beautiful. The red brick ones and the yellow marble fronts are mostly exquisite in design and color. Here and there Michigan avenue reminds me of Brighton in England.”—Daily News.

[38] The company included His Worship the Mayor of Chicago (the Hon. Carter Harrison); G. M. Pullman (of Pullman City); J. Medill (editor of the “Tribune”); Murray Nelson; Mr. Gage (banker); Major-General Schofield; Marshall Field; Mr. Dexter; George Dunlap; C. R. Cummings; General A. Stager, and J. B. Lyon. The menu was remarkable for its luxurious elegance, and the speaking, though informal, and in no sense prearranged, was notable for being chiefly confined to the arts and their influences on civilization. Mr. John B. Carson proposed “Health and continued success to Henry Irving,” and welcomed him to the West in terms of hearty friendship. “And I only hope,” he said, “you will one day come to Quincy, which is my head-quarters; we are not a very great population, but we have a fine theatre, and we enjoy a good play.” Quincy has a population of twenty-five thousand, is beautifully situated on a limestone bluff, one hundred and twenty-five feet above the Mississippi river. Mr. Carson and his friends at Quincy sent Mr. Abbey a guarantee of $4,000, for one night’s visit of the Irving Company. It will be interesting to add, in this place, that many “theatre parties” came to Chicago, from distant cities, to see Irving. Some of them travelled all day, and several of their newspapers contained reports and criticisms of the performances. The Rockford “Register,” for example, printed the following in its leading columns: “Remarkable success has attended the performances of Henry Irving, the celebrated English actor, during the present week, at Haverly’s Theatre, Chicago. For once the severest critics in the country have their scalpels blunted and dulled by the perfection of his work combined with the exactness of the stage-setting. There has never appeared an actor on the boards of Chicago who has received such lavish, unreserved praise from the critics and the press. It is doubtless true that there is no other actor in the world who has studied so thoroughly all the minor details of every play, arranging every bit of scenery, every position of the most unimportant member of the cast. Nor has there been such an outlay of money elsewhere by any one to secure the completest perfection of every surrounding. The result is, that every play to which this student-actor lends his attention becomes correct and faithful, historically and artistically. He remains in Chicago for another week, and those of our citizens who love art in its highest sense have now an opportunity that is not likely to be offered again for studying the man whose name is a household word in England, and whose fame is world-renowned. Miss Terry likewise is winning well-earned laurels, while the entire company of English actors are Mr. Irving’s continuous and carefully chosen support, and rank high in their respective rÔles. A party of prominent citizens to attend in a body one night next week has been formed. In that event, Mr. Perkins states that the North-western road would probably make special rates.

[39] The menu cards on this occasion were gems in the way of printing and binding. They were exquisitely encased in alligator-leather and silver. With each of them was a guest-card, on which was written a poetic welcome, couched in bright, humorous, and complimentary terms—the work of the hostess. Many ladies and gentlemen of position were present, and the affair was one of the pleasantest in the history of the Calumet Club.

[40] At eleven o’clock last evening Mr. Emery A. Storrs gave a supper in honor of Mr. Henry Irving, at the Leland Hotel, and pleasantly entertained thirty-five well-known gentlemen. The guests assembled about ten o’clock, in room twenty, and shortly afterward adjourned to Mr. Storrs’ suite of parlors on the Michigan-avenue front of the hotel. Mr. Irving and Mr. Hatton arrived soon after eleven o’clock, and, after a few minutes’ social chat, the party proceeded to the small dining-hall. The arrangements were elaborate and perfect, and the decorations were very handsome. Lines of flags of all nations extended from the four corners of the room, crossing one another just under the dome in the centre. Hanging by an invisible wire from the electric light in the dome was a double-faced floral circle, edged with smilax, through the centre of which was a floral bar. On one side of this was the name “Irving,” and on the other side “Terry,” in red carnations upon a white ground. The walls were hung with the English and American colors, and directly behind the guest’s seat was a bust of Shakespeare, over which was looped the English flag, caught up by a shield, bearing the arms of Great Britain and Ireland. Above this was a banner bearing the following inscription: “‘One touch of nature makes the whole world kin’—Irving and Booth.” At the opposite end of the room, just above the door, was a similar banner, inscribed as follows: “‘To hold, as ‘twere, the mirror up to nature’—Ellen Terry and Mary Anderson.” Immediately opposite the entrance to the room was the inscription, “Greeting and Welcome,” and over the entrance was inscribed, “Not that we think us worthy such a guest, but that your worth will dignify our feast.” To the left of this was a banner, bearing the following: “Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with the special observation that you overstep not the modesty of Nature.” And to the right was a banner, inscribed as follows: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances.” The table was arranged in the shape of a “T,” with the host, the guest of the evening, and a few of the more favored sitting at the cross of the “T.” Immediately in front of the seats of Mr. Irving and Mr. Storrs was an immense basket of flowers,—which was sent later in the evening to Miss Terry, with Mr. Storrs’ compliments,—and to the right and left of this was a floral bell, suggesting the actor’s favorite play, “The Bells.” In the body of the “T” was a huge Épergne of fruit and flowers, and trails of smilax were laid the length of the cloth. In front of each one of the thirty-five plates was a fragrant boutonniÈre, and a satin-covered card bearing the name of the guest diagonally across a marine scene. Delicate-tinted glasses to the right of each plate suggested liquid enjoyment to follow. The following is a list of the guests as they sat at table:—Emery A. Storrs, Henry Irving, Joseph Hatton, General Schofield, Professor Swing, Perry H. Smith, Professor Fraser, William Balcom, F. B. Wilkie, F. H. Winston, J. D. Harvey, M. E. Stone, Alfred Cowles, D. B. Shipman, W. C. D. Grannis, W. P. Nixon, W. S. Walker, Dr. Jackson, Mr. Phinney, Leonard Hodges, Canon Knowles, A. F. Seeberger, Louis Wahl, S. D. Kimbark, C. P. Kimball, J. L. High, Mr. Clement, Washington Hesing, J. M. Dandy, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Griswold, Mr. Harper, Mr. Dewey, Mr. Thayer, Mr. Hord, Mr. Bacon. After supper Mr. Storrs, in a witty prelude, explaining that there were to be no speeches, proposed the health of Mr. Irving. The famous actor having responded, Joseph Hatton, who, by his works and in his own person, is well known in Chicago, was toasted. Miss Terry was not forgotten during the unstudied and informal eloquence of the evening. A magnificent basket of flowers was sent to her, with the respectful compliments of the host and his friends.—Tribune and other newspaper reports.