I asked him what in his estimation were the best words to which he had composed music. He answered almost at once, without hesitation: “‘Oh that we two were maying!’ I can never think of those words without emotion! How can one help it?” He spoke the last verse of the poem from _The Saint’s Tragedy_: “Oh! that we two lay sleeping In our nest in the churchyard sod, With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth’s breast, And our souls at home with God.” As he spoke, the emotion seemed to master him more and more; at the last line the tears were running down his cheeks. He spoke with an extraordinary concentration and emphasis. It was hard to believe that he was not singing, for the effect of his speaking the words of Charles Kingsley’s song was the same. His speech seemed like—was music. Later on I asked him who in his opinion was the best composer. “Present company, of course, excepted!” I added, whereat he smiled. After a moment’s thought he answered: “Mendelssohn! Mendelssohn is the best!” Then after another but shorter pause: “But there is only one Mozart!” VIII SIR ALEXANDER MACKENZIE Sir Alexander Mackenzie, who was one of the oldest and closest of Irving’s friends, had much to do with him in his productions. He composed the music for _Ravenswood_ and _Coriolanus_. At Irving’s burial in Westminster Abbey a part of the latter, the _Marcia Funèbre_, was played whilst the coffin was being borne from the choir to the grave. In addition to these important works, Mackenzie wrote the music for _Manfred_, which Irving intended at one time to produce. He was also engaged on the music for _Richard II._, a large part of which was completed when the play was abandoned owing to Irving’s serious illness in 1898. Mackenzie in an “interview” shortly after Irving’s death, told a pretty story of how the end of _Ravenswood_ had been changed. Irving had arranged that the last scene should be the waste of quicksand, wherein Edgar was lost, seen in the cold glare of moonlight—suggestive of misery. When, however, he heard the music—of which the finale is the _love motive_ in a triumphant burst—he seemed much struck by it. He said nothing at the time, but the next morning the composer received a letter thanking him for the hint and adding: “And the moonlight on the sea I shall change to the rising sun.” LXI LUDWIG BARNAY I