_Ravenswood_ is a thoroughly sad, indeed lugubrious play, as any play must be which adheres fairly to the lines of Scott’s tragic novel. By the way this novel was written at Rokeby, the home of the Morritt family, in Yorkshire. The members of that family tell a strange circumstance relating to it. Sir Walter Scott was a close friend of the family and often stayed there; he wrote two of his novels whilst a guest. Whilst at Rokeby on this occasion he was in very bad health; but all the time he worked hard and wrote the novel. When he had finished he was laid up for a while; and when he was well he could not remember any detail at all of his story. He could hardly believe that he had written it. For seven years after Irving had possession of Merivale’s play he had thought it over. He had in his own quiet way made up his mind about it, arranging length and way of doing the play and excogitating his own part till he had possession of it in every way. Then one evening—November 25, 1889—he broached the subject of its definite production. The note which I find in my diary is succinct and explanatory and comprehensive: “Theatre 7 (P.M.) till 5 (A.M.) H.I. read for Loveday and me _Edgar and Lucy_, Merivale’s dramatisation to his order of _The Bride of Lammermoor_. It was delightful. Play very fine. Literature noble. H.I. had cut quite one-half out.” I can supplement this brief note from memory. Irving read the play with quite extraordinary effect. He had quite a gift for this sort of work. I heard him read through a good many plays in the course of a quarter of a century of work together and it was always enlightening. He had a way of conveying the _cachet_ of each character by inflection or trick of voice or manner; and his face was always, consciously or unconsciously, expressive. So long before as 1859, when he had read _The Lady of Lyons_ at Crosby Hall, the _Daily Telegraph_ had praised, amongst other matters, his versatility in this respect. I have heard him read in public in a large hall both _Hamlet_ and _Macbeth_, and his characterisation was so marked that after he had read the entries of the various characters he did not require to refer to them again by name. On this occasion he seemed familiar with every character, and, I doubt not, could have played any of them, so far as his equipment fitted him for the work, within a short time. Naturally the most effective part was that of Edgar of Ravenswood. Not only is it the most prominent part in the cast, but it was that which he was to play himself, and to which he had given most special attention. In it he brought out all the note of destiny which rules in both novel and play. Manifestly Edgar is a man foredoomed, but not till the note of doom is sounded in the weird and deathly utterances of Ailsie Gourlay could one tell that all must end awfully. Throughout, the tragic note was paramount. Well Edgar knew it; the gloom that wrapped him even in the moment of triumphant love was a