Never was the power and good-humour—the _bonhomie_—of the manager more happily displayed than in his reply. As was said at the time, it showed him in quite a new light. Taken wholly unawares—for whatever preparation he might have made was, he said, “rendered useless by the unexpected tone of Lord Houghton’s remarks”-he was thrown on his impromptu resources, and proved that he really possessed what is called debating power. He spoke without hesitation, and with much good sense and playful humour put aside these blended compliments and sarcasms. Some time before the manager, who was on friendly terms with the gifted Helen Faucit, determined to revive a piece in which she had once made a deep impression, viz., ‘King Réné’s Daughter.’ This poem, translated by her husband, set out the thoughts and feelings of a young girl in the contrasted conditions of blindness and of sight recovered. With a natural enthusiasm for his art, Irving persuaded the actress, who had long since withdrawn from the stage, to emerge from her retirement and play her old character “for one night only.” This news really stirred the hearts of true playgoers, who recalled this actress in her old days of enchantment, when she was in her prime, truly classical and elegant in every pose, playing the pathetic Antigone. But, alas! for the old Antigone dreams; we could have wished that we had stayed away! The actress’s devices seemed to have hung too long a “rusty mail, and seemed quite out of fashion.” Irving did all he could, in an almost chivalrous style, and it was certainly a kindly act of admiration and enthusiasm for his art to think of such a revival. Such homage deserved at least tolerance or recognition.