Henry Irving’s mother was Sarah Behenna, a woman of strong, marked character, who early took the child into Cornwall to her sister Penberthy. Thus was he among the miners and mining captains in a district “stern and wild,” where lessons of dogged toil and perseverance were to be learned. The earliest books he read were his Bible, some old English ballads, and “Don Quixote,” a character which he had long had a fancy for performing. In an intimate _causerie_ with his and my friend Joseph Hatton, he was induced to stray back to these early days of childhood, when he called up some striking scenes of those old mining associations. This aunt Penberthy was a resolute, striking woman, firm and even grim of purpose, and the scenes in which she figured have a strong flavour, as Mr. Hatton suggests, of Currer Bell’s stories. He was early sent to a school then directed by Dr. Pinches, in George Yard, Lombard Street, close by the George and Vulture, which still happily stands, and where Mr. Pickwick always put up when he was in town. At this academy, on some exhibition day, he proposed to recite a rather gruesome piece called “The Uncle,” to which his preceptor strongly objected, when he substituted the more orthodox “Defence of Hamilton Rowan,” by Curran. More than thirty years later, when the boy had become famous, and was giving a benefit at his own theatre to a veteran player—Mr. Creswick—the latter, coming before the curtain, related to the audience this little anecdote. “I was once,” he said, “invited to hear some schoolboys recite speeches previous to their breaking up for the holidays. The schoolmaster was an old friend of mine, whom I very much respected. The room was filled from wall to wall with the parents and friends of the pupils. I was not much entertained with the first part: I must confess that I was a little bored; but suddenly there came out a lad who at once struck me as being rather uncommon, and he riveted my attention. The performance, I think, was a scene from ‘Ion,’ in which he played Adrastus. I well saw that he left his schoolfellows a long way behind. That schoolboy was Master Henry Irving. Seeing that he had dramatic aptitude, I gave him a word of encouragement, perhaps the first he had ever received, and certainly the first he had received from one in the dramatic profession, to which he is now a distinguished honour.” The late Solicitor-General, Sir Edward Clarke, who was sent to the school after Irving left it, long after made humorous complaint at a Theatrical Fund dinner that, on exhibiting his own powers at the same school, he used to be regularly told, “Very good—very fair; but you should have heard Irving do it.” On leaving the school, it was determined that the future actor should adopt a commercial career, and he was placed in the offices of Messrs. Thacker, “Indian merchants in Newgate Street.” He was then about fourteen, and remained in the house four years.