THE immense success of The Silver King freed my father from financial anxiety, and although, whenever he was suffering from nervous exhaustion, worry about his pecuniary position was a prominent symptom, and although in the last twenty-five years of his life he was often overdrawn at the bank, he was never other than well off from 1882 to the day of his death.
The moment he was released from any real concern for his material prospects, Henry Arthur devoted an everincreasing proportion of his working hours to a ceaseless campaign by letters, articles in the papers, pamphlets, lectures, and speeches, on behalf of the great art he revered with every fibre of his being and served whole-heartedly and faithfully to the day of his death. He contended that the Drama was the highest and most difficult form of literature, and in the first twenty years of his career as a playwright he hammered away unceasingly in his efforts to get the general public to realise that the Drama is a part of literature. As he grew famous and came into contact with famous writers and men of letters, he made every endeavour to draw such men to the Theatre or to interest them still further in the Drama. Among those who were numbered among his friends, and with whom he corresponded and talked about the Theatre, and some of whom were present at his first nights, were Matthew Arnold, Thomas Hardy (who went to the pit for the first performance of The Triumph of the Philistines), Frederic Harrison, William Sharp, Swinburne, Watts-Dunton, H. D. Traill, Stopford Brooke, Mark Rutherford, Sir Edmund