[32] Mr. Forbes Robertson, who is painter as well as actor, depicted this striking scene on canvas, giving portraits of the performers. It has been engraved (or rather “processed”) with very happy result. [33] It was an unusual tribute to the interest excited in every direction by the actor’s personality, that in the December of this year the lady students at University College should have chosen him for the subject of a formal debate, under the presidency of the clever Miss Fawcett. The thesis set down was, “That Henry Irving has, by his dramatic genius, earned his place as foremost among living actors,” and the discussion was begun with much spirit and fluency by Miss Rees, who proceeded to give an analysis of his Hamlet and other characters, contending that his extraordinary _success_ was a proof of his merit. The opposition was led by Mrs. Brooksbanks, who fairly and unsparingly attacked the actor for his mannerisms and various defects. After a reply from Miss Rees, the original motion was put to the ladies, and was carried by a slender majority. The actor must have read these proceedings, which were flattering enough, with much enjoyment. [34] An idea of what a “tremendous” business this was may be gathered from a single detail. A well-known experienced wigmaker from Covent Garden, with two assistants, was engaged to look after the _coiffures_ of the company, and these “artists in hair” had under their charge a collection of wigs, entirely new, no fewer than eleven hundred in number. On a later visit there were fifteen hundred wigs! [35] Where it now hangs over the chimneypiece in the Guests’ Room. It is not so successful as many others of Millais’ works; it is rather sketchily painted, and lacks force and expression. The late Mr. Long painted the actor as Hamlet and Richard III. These are not very striking performances, but they are refined and interesting portraits. Mr. Whistler produced an extraordinary one of him as Philip II., strangely “shadowy” but powerful, and of preternatural length. A number of artists of less pretension have also essayed to limn the actor; but all have failed to sketch the mobile, delicate expression of the lips. Boldly daring, I myself have fashioned a bust of him in terra-cotta. [36] It is said that the origin of the acquaintance between Irving and this statesman was an accidental encounter in the street, when the latter, with a sympathetic impulsiveness, stopped Irving and introduced himself. He has since been an assiduous frequenter of the Lyceum, and in his eighty-third year was seen in the stalls or behind the scenes, following the course of ‘Henry VIII.’ with unabated interest. [37] These newspapers were sent to me without interruption through the whole tour by Irving’s direction. [38] A description of a “first-night” at the Clement Street Opera House is worth quoting here: