The Irving Lecture.

Long before the hour fixed for opening the doors of Sanders Theatre, both entrances to the transept of Memorial Hall were besieged by a throng of anxious ticket holders. The moment the doors were opened, there followed a scene of indescribable confusion, and for a time the crush at the two narrow gates leading to the theatre entrances threatened to become serious. The seating accommodations were put to a severe test to accommodate the audience of over 2000 which was in attendance, and not only every seat in the main body and the balconies of the theatre was utilized, but the seats upon the stage itself, and in the orchestra gallery above it were all filled, while even standing room was at a premium. At eight o'clock Mr. Irving appeared upon the stage, and was introduced by Mr. Jones, who briefly alluded to the objects for which the Harvard Shakspere Club, under the auspices of which the lecture was given, was founded. As Mr. Irving stepped to the desk, he was greeted with round upon round of applause, to which he bowed his acknowledgments, and then began his lecture, which he read from notes.

Mr. Irving, as he stood before his audience last evening, differed but little from the Irving with whom all have become familiar upon the stage. His tones were the same which have been so often heard behind the footlights: his delivery was marked by the same careful enunciation and emphasis which lends it its peculiar charm. In the subject matter of his lecture there was much that was of necessity somewhat trite, but the sombre current of the subject was lightened by many gleams of anecdote and wit. At many passages in which the lecturer rose to the height of true eloquence, the audience showed its appreciation by applause, while the frequent pleasantries brought in to illustrate some maxim of the actor's art were met with responsive laughter. The lecture as a whole was worthy of the distinguished artist by whom it was delivered, and the lesson it taught will surely not be lost upon those who were so fortunate as to hear it.

Mr. Irving began by saying, "I am deeply sensible of the compliment paid me, not so much for myself as for the profession which I represent. In inviting me here to address you, you intend to recognize the influence of the drama as a factor in education. I trust that you have no prejudice against the stage, else I should not be here to-night. There are persons not a hundred miles from here who have never been to a theatre, but have no objections to see a play in a museum, especially if the vestibule be ornamented by statues, stuffed fighures, and the like."

"This discussion naturally falls into three divisions, (1) the art of acting, (2), its requirements and practice, (3) its rewards. The art of acting is the art of embodying the poet's sensations, of fathoming the depths of character, and of tracing its emotions. To the actor the phrase, 'Art is long and life is short, ' has a constant significance. He is ever thinking of what is undone, he is ever striving towards what is never done. To present the man thinking aloud is the most difficult part of our art. It has been said that actors trust to the inspiration of the moment; nothing could be more untrue. Edmund Kean practised before a mirror and startled the audience by his spontaneity; even Shakspere would have been surprised by the richness and fullness of this actor's passion. The best exposition of acting is given by Shakspere himself, and thus the poet recognizes the actor's art. The great poet believed in holding the mirror up to nature, and it is to him that the actor points for the charter of his profession."

In speaking of the requirements for good acting, Mr. Irving said, "Success does not depend upon a few lessons in declamation, nor upon a study of the tradition of characters; nothing can be worse than a traditional way of interpretation. It is not the attitude nor the tone which is to be studied. You must impersonate; you must not recite. It has been the custom in England to demand a false inflection in tragedy, while naturalism is demanded in comedy. It is not the measured recitation of a long speech, but a short sentence which is often the more effective. Garrick's, 'Prithee, undo this button,' was remembered long after his more stately passages were forgotten. The actor who relaxes from a natural to an artificial tone loses force. To be natural on the stage is more difficult, but a grain of nature is worth a bushel of artifice. Nature may be overdone by triviality when exaltation is demanded. Like the practised orator, the actor rises and descends with the sentiment, and cannot always be in a fine frenzy."

The lecturer spoke of the aids to naturalism which improvements in stage mechanism had been, and told of the amusing efforts of actors to be in the "focus" of the old-style footlights. He then proceeded to speak of elocution as an aid to the actor. "The study of elocution is necessary for the acting art. The advice of the old actors was that the voice should be pitched so as to allow the top galleries to hear. This idea has passed away. An actor must be natural, but to be natural he must be broader than nature. One always listens to the elocution of Edwin Booth with the greatest pleasure. In pronunciation an actor should not follow the dictionary, but the emotions. Pronunciation is to the actor what color is to the artist. Words are intended to express ideas, but not to bind them in fetters. The force of an actor depends upon his physique; therefore the body should be cultivated. Your gymnasium is worth volumes on this subject; (applause from the gallery) but sometimes the body is cultivated at the expense of the mind." (Applause from the orchestra).

"We are told that our art is ephemeral. Grant that it creates nothing, but does it not restore? It acts as a constant medium for the diffusion of noble ideas. The wide appreciation of Shakspere is due to the stage; for multitudes it has performed the office of discoverer." After speaking of the unjust opprobrium which has been cast upon the dramatic profession on account of the short-comings of the lower stratum of actors, Mr. Irving closed by saying, "I have been an actor for nearly thirty years, and what I have told you is the fruit of these years' experience. The calling to which I belong is worthy of the suppot and sympathy of all intelligent people."