Sir Henry Irving—A Record of Over Twenty Years at the Lyceum

SIR HENRY IRVING
A RECORD OF OVER TWENTY YEARS AT THE LYCEUM
BY PERCY FITZGERALD, M.A. AUTHOR OF “THE LIFE OF GARRICK,” “THE KEMBLES,” “ART OF THE STAGE,” ETC.
“As in a theatre the eyes of men,
After a well-grac’d actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next.”
A NEW EDITION, REVISED WITH AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER
LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY 1895
One attraction in the life of an actor who has fought his way, and triumphed over many difficulties, in his struggles to eminence, is found in the spirit of adventure which nearly always marks his course. Such a story must be always gratifying and encouraging to read; and we follow it now with sympathy, now with admiration. Nor is it without gratification for the actor himself, who must look back with complacency to troubles surmounted, and to habits of patience and discipline acquired. In this severe and trying school he may acquire the practical virtues of resignation, courage, perseverance, and the art of confronting difficulties. Even at the present moment, when the stage is presumed to be more flourishing than at any former period, the element of precariousness is more present than ever. Everything seems a lottery—theatres, pieces, actors. A theatre has gained a high reputation with one or two successful pieces: of a sudden the newest play fails—or “falls,” as the French have it—to be succeeded by another, and yet another: each failing or “falling,” and seeming to prove that, if nothing succeeds like success, nothing fails like failure.
There is a spectacle often witnessed in the manufacturing counties, when we may be standing waiting in one of the great stations, which leaves a melancholy impression. A huge theatrical train containing one of the travelling companies comes up and thunders through. Here is the “Pullman Car,” in which the performers are seen playing cards, or chatting, or lunching. They have their pets with them—parrots, dogs, etc. It suggests luxury and prosperity. But this ease is dearly purchased, for we know that the performer has bound himself in a sort of slavery, and has consented to forego all the legitimate methods of learning his profession. He belongs to some peripatetic company, a “travelling” one, or to one of the innumerable bands who take round a single play, for years, it may be; and in it he must play his single character over and over again. Hence, he must learn—nay, is compelled to play—every character in the same fashion, for he knows no other method. His wage is modest, but constant; but he can never rise higher, and if he lose his place it will be difficult for him to find another. It will be interesting to see what a contrast this system offers to the course of our cultured actors, who have endured the iron training and discipline of the old school; and in this view we shall follow the adventurous career of the popular Henry Irving, admittedly the foremost of our performers. In his instance we shall see how the struggle, so manfully sustained, became an invariable discipline , slowly forming the character which has made him an interesting figure on which the eyes of his countrymen rest with pleasure: and developing, as I have said, the heroic qualities of patience, resolution, and perseverance.