At the Sunderland Theatre he remained only four months, and though the manager pressed him to stay with him, the young actor felt that here he had not the opportunities he desired. He accordingly accepted an engagement at the Edinburgh Theatre, which began on February 9, 1857. Among the faces that used to be familiar at any “first night” at the Lyceum were those of Mr. Robert Wyndham and his wife. There is something romantic in the thought that these guests of the London manager and actor in the height of his success and prosperity should have been the early patrons of the unfriended provincial player. Mr. Wyndham was one of the successors of that sagacious Murray to whom the Edinburgh stage owes so much that is respectable. Here our actor remained for two years and a half, enjoying the benefits of that admirable, useful discipline, by which alone a knowledge of acting is to be acquired—viz., a varied practice in a vast round of characters. This experience, though acquired in a hurried and perfunctory fashion, is of enormous value in the way of training. The player is thus introduced to every shade and form of character, and can practise himself in all the methods of expression. Now that provincial theatres are abolished, and have given place to the “travelling companies,” the actor has few opportunities of learning his business, and one result is a “thinness” or meagreness of interpretation. In this Edinburgh school our actor performed “a round,” as it is called, of no fewer than three hundred and fifty characters! This seems amazing. It is, in truth, an extraordinary list, ranging over every sort of minor character. He here also enjoyed opportunities of performing with famous “stars” who came round the provinces, Miss Ellen Faucit, Mrs. Stirling, Vandenhoff, Charles Dillon, Madame Celeste, “Ben” Webster, Robson, the facetious Wright, the buoyant Charles Mathews, his life-long friend Toole, of “incompressible humour,” and the American, Miss Cushman.[1] This, it is clear, was a period of useful drudgery, but in it he found his account. The company visited various Scotch towns, which the actor has described pleasantly enough in what might seem an extract from one of the old theatrical memoirs. He had always a vein of quiet humour, the more agreeable because it is unpretending and without effort.