I was at the first night of every play produced at the Lyceum for over twenty years, and I knew that Irving never fell short of the highest and the truest possible conception of any part that he attempted. At his best he was unapproachable. It was not the actor who failed, when there was failure; it was the play that failed. Only one marvellously inartistic feature was in the adaptation of _The Courier of Lyons_. He assumed that the sole way by which identification of a man is possible is by his appearance--that the intonation of his voice counts for nothing whatsoever. He acted in the dual rôle of Dubose and Lesurges--the one a gentle creature with a gentle voice, the other a truculent ruffian who jerked out his words hoarsely--the very antithesis to the mild gentleman in voice, in gait, and in general demeanour, though closely resembling him in features and appearance. The impression given by this representation was that any one who, having heard Dubose speak, would mistake Lesurges for him must be either stone-deaf or an idiot. But each of the parts was finely played; and the real old stage-coach arriving with its team smoking like Sheffield, helped to make a commonplace melodrama interesting. Personally I do not think that he was justified in trying to realise at the close of the trial scene in _The Merchant of Venice_, the tableau of Christ standing mute and patient among the mockers. It was an attempt to obtain by suggestion some pity and sympathy for an infamous and inhuman scoundrel. In that pictorial moment Shylock the Jew was made to pose as Christ the Jew. Mrs. Friswell had not seen Irving's Shylock, but she expressed her belief that Shylock was on the whole very badly treated; and Dorothy was ready to, affirm that Antonio was lacking in those elements that go to the composition of a sportsman. He should not have wriggled out of his bargain by the chicanery of the law. “They were a bad lot, and that's a fact,” I ventured to say. “They were,” acquiesced Friswell. “And if you look into the history of the Jews, they were also a bad lot; but among them were the most splendid men recorded as belonging to any race ever known on this earth; and I'm not sure that Irving wasn't justified in trying to get his audiences to realise in that last moment something of the dignity of the Hebrew people.” “He would have made a more distinct advance in that direction if he had cut out the 'business' of stropping his knife a few minutes earlier, 'To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there,'” I remarked. “If he had done that Shakespeare would not have had the chance of his pun--the cheapest pun in literature--and it would not be like the author to have neglected that,” said Mrs. Friswell. They all seemed to know more of the play than I gave them credit for knowing.