A letter had appeared, in January, 1876, in _Fun_, the _Punch_ of the middle and lower class, addressed to “The Fashionable Tragedian.” It affected alarm at the report that, “so soon as the present failure can with dignity be withdrawn,” he intended to startle the public and Shakespearian scholars with ‘Othello.’ In the name of that humanity “to which, in spite of your transcendent abilities, you cannot help belonging,” he was entreated to forbear, if only for the sake of order and morality. “With the hireling fashion of the press at your command, you have induced the vulgar and unthinking to consider you a model of histrionic ability.” In the course of the investigation the article was traced to a writer who has since become popular as a dramatist, and who, as might be expected, has furnished a fair proportion of murders and other villainies to the stage. What was behind the attack it would be difficult to say; but there are people to whom sudden unexpected success is a subject of irritation. Just as hypocrisy is the homage paid to vice, so it may be that the attacks of this kind are some of the penalties that have to be paid for success. When the theatre closed in 1876, the indefatigable manageress organized a tour of the company in the provinces, with the view of introducing the new tragedian to country audiences. There was, as may be conceived, a prodigious curiosity to see him, and the tour was very successful. She brought to the task her usual energy and spirit of organization; though with so certain an attraction, the tour, like a good piece, might be said to “play itself,” on the principle of _ma femme et cinq poupées_. I can recall the image of the busy lady on one of these nights at Liverpool or Birmingham, seated in her office, surrounded by papers, the play going on close by, the music of a house crowded to overflowing being borne to her ears. There was here the old Nickleby flavour, and a primitive, homely spirit that contrasts oddly with the present brilliant system of “touring,” which must be “up to date,” as it is called, and supported by as much lavishness and magnificence as is expected in the Metropolis. After the piece came the pleasant little supper at the comfortable lodgings. On this occasion he was to receive the first of those intellectual compliments which have since been paid him by most of the leading Universities. At Dublin he excited much enthusiasm among the professors and students of Trinity College. He was invited to receive an address from both Fellows and students, which was presented by Lord Ashbourne, lately Lord Chancellor of Ireland, then a Queen’s Counsel. This was conceived in the most flattering and complimentary terms.