I have before me a curious little criticism of this performance taken from an old and long defunct journal that bore the name of _The Players_, which will now be read with a curious interest: “We all know the ‘Dramatic Reading.’ We have all—at least, all who have served their apprenticeship to theatrical amusements—suffered the terrible infliction of the Dramatic Reader; but then with equal certainty we have all answered to the next gentleman’s call of a ‘Night with Shakespeare, with Readings, etc.,’ and have again undergone the insufferable bore of hearing our dear old poet murdered by the aspiring genius. Thinking somewhat as we have above written the other evening, we wended our editorial way towards Crosby Hall, where our informant ‘circular’ assured us Mr. Henry Irving was about to read Bulwer’s ‘Lady of Lyons.’ We asked ourselves, Who is Mr. Henry Irving? and memory, rushing to some hidden cave in our mental structure, answered—Henry Irving, oh! yes, to be sure; how stupid! We at once recollected that Mr. Irving was a gentleman of considerable talent, and a great favourite in the provinces. We have often seen his name honourably figuring in the columns of our provincial contemporaries. Now, we were most agreeably disappointed on this present occasion; for instead of finding the usual conventional respectable-looking ‘mediocrity,’ we were gratified by hearing the poetical ‘Lady of Lyons’ poetically read by a most accomplished elocutionist, who gave us not only words, but that finer indefinite something which proves incontestably and instantaneously that the fire of genius is present in the artist. It would be out of place now to speak of the merits of the piece selected by this gentleman, but the merits appeared as striking and the demerits as little so as on any occasion of the kind in our recollection. Claude’s picture of his imaginary home was given with such poetic feeling as to elicit a loud burst of approval from his hearers, as also many other passages occurring in the play. The characters were well marked, especially Beauseant and Madame Deschappelles, whilst the little part of Glavis was very pleasingly given. Mr. Irving was frequently interrupted by the applause of his numerous and delighted audience, and at the conclusion was unanimously called to receive their marks of approval.” It was at this interesting performance that Mr. Toole, as he tells us, first met his friend.