. Given perfect freedom, I
would not meddle with any one's honest convictions: "to a nunnery go" if
thou wilt; only let the resolve be revocable, not a doom for ever.

CHAPTER XXIII.

PLAYS.

One of my latest publications is that of my "Trilogy of Plays," with
twelve dramatic scenes,--issued by Allen & Co., of Waterloo Place. The
first of the three, "Alfred," was put upon the stage at Manchester by
that ill-starred genius, Walter Montgomery, who was bringing it out also
at the Haymarket, a very short time before his lamentable death. He was
fond of the play and splendidly impersonated the hero-king, in the
opening scene having trained his own white horse to gallop riderless
across the stage when Alfred was supposed to have been defeated by the
Danes. The vision in act ii. scene i. was thrillingly effective; and the
whole five acts went very well from beginning to end, the audience being
preternaturally quiet,--which disconcerted me until my theatrical mentor
praised the silence of that vast crowd, as the best possible sign of
success: they were held enthralled as one man till the end came, and
then came thunder. Not thinking of what was expected of me in the way of
thanks for the ovation their concluding cheers assailed me with, I got
out of the theatre as quick as I could, and was half way to my hotel
when two or three excited supers rushed after me with a "Good God, Mr.
Tupper, come back, come back, or the place will be torn down!" so of
course I hurried to the front--to encounter a tumult of applause;
although I must have looked rather ridiculous too, crossing the stage in
my American cloak and brandishing an umbrella! However, no one but
myself seemed to notice the incongruity, and as I had humbly obeyed the
people's will, they generously condoned my first transgression. I ought
to record that my heroine Bertha was charmingly acted by Miss Henrietta
Hodgson, now Mrs. Labouchere, who will quite recollect her early triumph
in Martin Tupper's first play. My best compliments and kindly
remembrance I here venture to offer to her.

The second play, "Raleigh," is very differently constructed; for whereas
the time of action in "Alfred" was three days,--that of "Raleigh" was
sixty years: in fact with the former I dramatised a single conquest,
with the latter the varied battles of a long life. I have several times
read all my plays before audiences at my readings, and know the points
that tell. In "Raleigh" the in