ly make a very small
contribution to such a review by indicating a few points which have
occurred to me in the study of one particular actor. At once, however,
the question arises, Is Mr. Irving a man who can be thus summarily
characterised? In a dramatic sense, are there not many Mr. Irvings? When
a man can act "The Two Roses" and "The Dead Heart" with equal effect,
when he can at will be as vulgar as _Robert Macaire_, or as dignified as
_Cardinal Wolsey;_ when he can be either as young as Hamlet or as old as
Lear, the inquiry as to his plurality becomes natural and pertinent. For
my part, I rank Mr. Irving the comedian above Mr. Irving the tragedian,
just as I rank Nature above Art: each may be highest in its own way, yet
the one may have a charm which the other cannot boast. Mr. Irving's
tragedy sometimes requires working up, but his comedy is spontaneous and
immediate. The needful working up of tragedy is no fault of the actor.
Tragedy should hardly ever begin at once. The murder may come too soon.
Premature rage is followed by untimely laughter. _Digby Grant_ begins at
once, and can be his best self in the very first sentence, but _Macbeth_
must move towards his passion by finely-graded ascents. In Mr. Irving's
exquisite representation, _Macbeth's_ anxieties and perturbations, his
rapid alternations of courage and cowardice, make delicate but obvious
record of themselves in deepening the grey of his hair, and ploughing
more deeply the lines of his face. A comedy may be judged scene by
scene, almost sentence by sentence, but a tragedy can be truly estimated
only when viewed in final perspective.

[Illustration: "A LITTLE CHEQUE."
(MR. IRVING AS "DIGBY GRANT" IN "TWO ROSES.")]

Judged by this test, I have no hesitation in regarding Mr. Irving's
_King Lear_ as the finest creation of his genius. This is an instance in
which the actor creates the piece. Shakespeare is, as a poet and
playwright, at his worst in "King Lear." Yet his accessories are
wonderful in variety and suggestiveness. Only Shakespeare could have
created the heath, and have so ordered the old King's passion, as to
make his madness part of the very thunder and lightning. That was
Shakespeare's magnificent conception, and Mr. Irving's rendering is
worthy of its tempestuous grandeur. How to talk up to the storm, how to
pierce the tumult with the cries of human distress, how to escape the
ridiculous and the incongruous, how to be a King on the desolate he