Mr. Merridew said some beautiful things about art and was, in reality, a man of no little modesty, considering his fame. He certainly told us a great deal about himself; but it was only to encourage us and show us what we might do. His career had been very picturesque, and he claimed for himself such rare and brilliant powers that he said he could act anything and everything—from a billiard ball to Macbeth. I mention this startling saying to show that he allowed stray flashes of humour—you might almost say _badinage_—to enlighten his discourse. “An actor,” he said, “ought to be as sensitive as a photographic plate. He ought to be able instantly to catch the character that he proposes to portray and allow it entirely to absorb him and soak into every corner of his soul. When, for instance, I played Iago some few years ago, I ceased to be Montgomery Merridew during the whole progress of the run! I _was_ Iago—not only when on the boards, for so thoroughly had I permitted that fiend in human shape to permeate my being, that again and again I caught myself thinking and feeling as Iago thought and felt outside the precincts of the theatre. That is an extreme case; and I instance it to show you a little of the extraordinary sensibility of the born actor. And not only can I play on the instrument ‘man’ and move to tears or laughter, with the ease of an accomplished musician playing on a musical instrument, but such is my intense feeling and emotional delicacy that I am equally moved myself when I watch another actor playing! The vibrating chords of my soul respond to him instantly; and though I may know that I could probably play the part far better myself, yet such is my sympathy and understanding, that I weep as readily as any untutored shop-boy in the audience—provided only that my colleague on the stage strives honestly to hold the mirror up to nature.” He proceeded in this exalted strain for some time, then looked at his watch and concluded his preliminary remarks: