THE audience gathered in the Sanders Theatre on Tuesday evening, May 15, 1881, was in many ways a remarkable one. As was said, it has probably never been equalled in America for literary distinction. The familiar faces of most of those who represent American letters to-day were to be seen in all directions. Longfellow, Emerson, Holmes, Curtis, Howellp, were there; of somewhat less distinguished men it would be easier to name those who were absent. College presidents and professors from all parts of the country, several eminent magistrates, the editors of many of the leading journals, all the instructors at Harvard, — no branch of learning was without its distinguished representatives. Owing to the presence of ladies in large numbers the appearance of the audience was as brilliant as its reputation.

In respect to its state of mind, also, the audience was remarkable. Many persons had come with doubt as to the feasibility, or even the propriety, of the undertaking; others thought it an excellent thing for young men to do, but were prepared to be thoroughly wearied; others again had come ready to mourn the absence of the classic glories, and to dislike what they felt sure must be a pretentious amateur performance. Those who were best pleased that the voice of the old Athenian days was to be heard again, were naturally solicitous lest some youthful extravagance or unforeseen hitch should mar the effect of the whole. From the person who sat in blankest ignorance of what was coming, to the one who had formed all his opinions beforehand, every state of mind was represented.