About this time an attractive actor, who had been much followed on account of his good looks, one Harry Montague, had joined in management with two diverting drolls—as they were then—James and Thorne, who were the pillars of burlesque at the Strand Theatre. All three felt a sort of inspiration that they were capable of something higher and more “legitimate”—an impression which the event has more than justified. The two last, by assiduous study and better opportunities, became admirable comedians. A sort of club that had not prospered was lying unused in the Strand, and a little alteration converted it into a theatre. The three managers were anxiously looking for a piece of modern manners which would exhibit to advantage their several gifts. A young fellow, who had left his desk for playwriting, had brought them a sort of comedy which was in a very crude state, but which, it seemed likely, could be made what they wanted; and by the aid of their experience and suggestions, it was fashioned into shape. Indeed, it proved that never was a piece more admirably suited to the company that played it. The characters fitted them all, as it is called, “like gloves.” They were bright, interesting, natural, and humorous; the story was pleasing and interesting, and the dialogue agreeable and smart. Such was ‘The Two Roses,’ which still holds the stage, though it now seems a little old-fashioned. Irving was one of the performers, and was perhaps the best suited of the group. The perfect success of the piece proved how advantageous is the old system of having a piece “written in the theatre,” when the intelligence of the performers and that of the managers are brought in aid of each other. The little house opened on April 16, 1870, with a piece of Mr. Halliday’s; and it was not until a few weeks later that the piece was brought forward—on June 4. The success was instantaneous. The unctuous Honey, in his own line an excellent original actor, raised in the good old school of the “low comedian,” which has now disappeared, was the good-natured Bagman—a part taken later by James, who was also excellent. Thorne was efficient, and sufficiently reserved, in the rather unmeaning blind Caleb Decie; while Montague was the gallant and interesting hero, Jack Wyatt. The two girls were represented in pleasing fashion by Miss Amy Fawcitt and Miss Newton. The piece, as I have said, owed much to the actors, though these again owed much to the piece. It is difficult to adjust the balance of obligation in such cases; but good actors can make nothing of a bad play, whereas a good play may make good actors. Irving, as Digby Grant, was the chief attraction, and his extraordinarily finished and varied playing of that insincere and selfish being excited general admiration.