But Irving’s social power was not merely in his hospitality. He was in request for all sorts and kinds of public and semi-public functions—the detailed list of them would be a serious one; of monuments that he has unveiled; of public dinners at which he has taken the chair or spoken; of foundation and memorial stones which he has laid; of flower shows, bazaars, theatres, libraries and public galleries that he has opened.
The public banquets to him have been many. The entertainments in his honour by clubs and other organisations were multitudinous.
And wherever he went on any such occasion, whatever space there was—were it even in an open square or street—was crowded to the last point.
This very popularity entailed much work, both in preparation and execution, for he had always to make a speech. With him a speech meant writing it and having it printed so that he could read it—though he never appeared to do so.
All this opened many new ways for his successes in his art, and so aided in the growth of its honour. For instance, he was the first actor asked to speak at the annual banquet of the Royal Academy; thus through him a new toast was added to the restricted list of that very conservative body.
The “First Night” gatherings on the stage of the Lyceum after the play became almost historic; the list of the guests would form an index to those of note of the time.
There were similar gatherings of a certain national, and even international, importance; such as when the members of the Colonial Conference came en masse; when the Conference of Librarians attended the theatre; when ships of war of foreign nations sent glad contingents to the theatre; when the Guests of the Nation were made welcome.
Some of the latter groups are, I think, worthy to be told of in detail.