“Liszt fine face—leonine—several large pimples—prominent chin of old man—long white hair down on shoulders—all call him ‘Master’—must have had great strength in youth. Very sweet and simple in manner. H. I. and he very much alike—seemed old friends as they talked animatedly though knowing but a few words of each other’s language—but using much expression and gesticulation. It was most interesting.” The next day Irving and my wife and I, together with some others, lunched with the Baroness Burdett-Coutts in Stratton Street to meet Liszt. After lunch there was a considerable gathering of friends asked to meet him. Lady Burdett-Coutts very thoughtfully had the pianos removed from the drawing-rooms, lest their presence might seem as though he were expected to play. After a while he noticed the absence and said to his hostess: “I see you have no pianos in these rooms!” She answered frankly that she had them removed so that he would not be tempted to play unless he wished to do so. “But I would like some music!” he said, and then went on: “I have no doubt but there is a piano in the house, and that it could be brought here easily!” It was not long before the servants brought into the great drawing-room a grand piano worthy of even his hands. Then Antoinette Sterling sang some ballads in her own delightful way. The contralto tones went straight to one’s heart. “Now I will play!” said Liszt. And he did. It was magnificent and never to be forgotten. VII GOUNOD Gounod came, as far as I know, but once to the Lyceum. That was during the first week of the season—6th September, 1882–during the continuance of the run of _Romeo and Juliet_. He came round to Irving’s dressing-room at the end of the third act and sat all the time of the wait chatting. Gounod was a man who seemed to speak fully formed thoughts. It was not in any way that there was about his speech any appearance of formality or premeditation. He seemed to speak right out of his heart; but his habit or method was such that his words had a power of exact conveyance of the thoughts. One might have stenographed every sentence he spoke, and when reproduced it would require no alteration. Form and structure and choice of words were all complete. After chatting a while Irving was loth to let him go. When the call-boy announced the beginning of Act IV.—in which act Irving had no part—he asked Gounod to stay on with him. So also at the beginning of Act V. When he had to go on the stage for the Apothecary scene, he asked me to stay with Gounod till he came back—I had been in the dressing-room all the time. Whilst Irving was away Gounod and I chatted; several things he said have always remained with me. He was saying something about some “great man” when he suddenly stopped and, after a slight pause, said: “But after all there is no really ‘great’ man! There are men through whom great things are spoken!”