He had a sense of the stage, but he had never been at the pains fully to master the conditions of the theatre, so that even in the best that he accomplished he could not make full use of its resources or duly observe its limitations. It was during the period of my association with the Comedy Theatre that Irving invited me to write for him a play on the subject of King Arthur. He had already in his possession a drama by W. G. Wills upon the same theme, and at first the project took the form of an offer on his part that I should revise, and in part rewrite, Wills’s somewhat slovenly essay. But when I tried to set myself to the task I found that, for me at least, it was impossible of achievement. I had long known and loved the Arthurian legends as they are enshrined in Sir Thomas Malory’s exquisite romance, and it seemed to me that the tragedy that lay in the loves of Lancelot and Guinevere was susceptible of more dramatic treatment than Wills had accorded it. When I explained my difficulty to Irving he at once gave to his original proposal a new form, permitting me very willingly to abandon altogether Wills’s experiment and to write for him a drama of my own. When the time approached for its production he eagerly acquiesced, as I have already related, in my suggestion that Burne-Jones should be invited to design the scenery and costumes, and it was further agreed between us that the music, which was destined to form an important feature in the presentation of the piece, should be entrusted to Sir Arthur Sullivan. Sullivan was already counted among my intimate friends. I had met him first many years before at Sir Coutts Lindsay’s country-house in Scotland, and it was not long before the acquaintance ripened into a close and lasting friendship. To those who knew and loved Sullivan, and I think he was loved by all who knew him, the extraordinary charm of his personality will be unreservedly acknowledged. There have been few men in our time in any walk of life who have possessed an equal measure of social fascination. His manner, always sympathetic and sincere, suffered no change in whatever company he found himself, and there was added to this finer quality of sympathy a quick and delicate sense of humour that made closer comradeship with him inspiring and delightful. And although he was well entitled to claim a separate consideration for the art to which his whole life was unsparingly devoted, it was wonderful to observe with what patience and tact he subordinated any distinctive claim which I have known other musicians, not so finely endowed, often to assert, and with how much skilful readiness he could adjust the competing requirements of music and the drama, when they had to be linked together, so as to produce a combined effect upon the audience.