ely, undramatic
village-preacher, the _Vicar of Wakefield_,--a doubt was felt as to his
suitability for the part and as to the success of his endeavour. He
played Dr. Primrose, and he gained in that character some of the
brightest laurels of his professional career. The doubt proved
unwarranted. More than one competent observer of that remarkable
performance has granted it an equal rank with the best of Henry Irving's
achievements; and now, more clearly than before, it is perceived that
the current of his inspiration flows as freely from the silver spring of
goodness as from the dark and troubled fountain of human misery.

On the first night of _Olivia_, at the Lyceum Theatre (it was May 27,
1885, when the present writer happened to be in London), Henry Irving's
performance of Dr. Primrose was fettered by a curb of constraint. The
actor's nerves had been strained to a high pitch of excitement and he
was obviously anxious. His spirit, accordingly, was not fully liberated
into the character. He advanced with cautious care and he executed each
detail of his design with precise accuracy. To various auditors, for
that reason, the work seemed a little Methodistical; and drab is a
colour at which the voice of the scoffer is apt to scoff. But the
impersonation of Dr. Primrose soon became equally a triumph of
expression and of ideal; not only flowing out of goodness, but flowing
smoothly and producing the effect of nature. It was not absolutely and
identically the Vicar that Goldsmith has drawn, for its personality was
unmarked by either rusticity or strong humour; but it was a kindred and
higher type of the simple truth, the pastoral sweetness, the benignity,
and the human tenderness of that delightful original. To invest goodness
with charm, to make virtue piquant, and to turn common events of
domestic life to exquisite pathos and noble exaltation was the actor's
purpose. It was accomplished; and Dr. Primrose, thitherto an idyllic
figure, existent only in the chambers of fancy, is henceforth as much a
denizen of the stage as Luke Fielding or Jesse Rural; a man not merely
to be read of, as one reads of Uncle Toby and Parson Adams, but to be
known, remembered, and loved.

Wills's drama of _Olivia_, based upon an episode in Goldsmith's story,
is one of extreme simplicity. It may be described as a series of
pictures displaying the consequences of action rather than action
itself. It contains an abundance of incident, but the inci