through the influence of a great silk merchant, was allowed to study raw silk at the St. Katherine Docks, with the intention of going out to Japan. Day by day I went to learn the Chinese "chops," and to see every sample of silk that came into the London market. I was, however, offered the post of foreign correspondent at Messrs. Emile Erlanger & Co., the financiers of Lothbury—a firm with branches in every great financial centre. I cast off the silk, and went in for finance. I remained there three years, and then accepted a much better position in Paris. I had only been in Paris about a month when my father died. Old John Ryder was in Paris. I consulted him, and he, after trying my histrionic capabilities, advised me to take to the stage. I went to Manchester to play Malcolm in 'Macbeth,' at the Royal. Then to Liverpool. There I had the hardest fortnight I have ever had in my life. I got the large sum of £2 a week to study twelve parts in a fortnight—which I had to do with the aid of strong tea to drink, and wet towels round my head to keep me awake.
"Then I came across Mapleson, who appointed me stage manager for his Italian Opera Company. I was with him until he went to America.
Sir Augustus Harris.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.
"It was whilst with Mapleson that I met that grand artiste, Titiens. Poor Titiens! She might almost be said to have died in harness. Her first serious attack was at Portsmouth. She was playing Leonora in 'Il Trovatore,' and at the end of the opera she is supposed to fall dead. The curtain was rung down. She was found to be suffering terribly. She was a slave to her duty, and that night had performed every note before giving way. She underwent a series of operations, but all of no avail. She only played one night more, and then died. She was a brilliant artist, but she was never thoroughly appreciated to the full extent of her genius.
"Then I played in 'Pink Dominoes' for 500 nights. I produced pantomimes at the Crystal Palace in partnership with Charles Wyndham; and, being out of an engagement, went to see my friend Edgar Bruce, who was going to open the Royalty.
"'Do you want a treasurer?' I asked.
"'No,' came the answer.
"'A manager?'
"'No.'
"'A stage manager?'
"'No.'
"'An acting manager?'
"'No.'
"The 'Noes' had it, and I retired. However, I returned to the charge, and he engaged me as acting-manager. I soon found myself also performing the duties of stage manager, treasurer, author, actor, all rolled into one. Bruce went to Egypt, leaving me in absolute charge of the theatre.
"About this time Drury Lane was advertised 'To let.' There was 'Drury Lane to Let' right in front of me. Why shouldn't I take it? Fortune seemed to favour me, and a gentleman of position and fortune said he would find the money. I applied for the theatre, and, though my youthful appearance stood terribly in the way, still, after weeks of anxious negotiations, I was accepted as tenant, and was asked for a deposit
