Charles Dickens as a Reader | Page 7

not only in one place and by a

single trumpet, but by as many mouths as there had been spectators in
that assembly." As recently as within these last two centuries, indeed,
both in the development of the career of Molière and in the writing of
his biography by Voltaire, the whole question as to the propriety of a
great author becoming the public interpreter of his own imaginings has
been, not only discussed, but defined with precision and in the end
authoritatively proclaimed. Voltaire, in truth, has significantly
remarked, in his "Vie de Molière," when referring to Poquelin's
determination to become Comedian as well as Dramatist, that among
the Athenians, as is perfectly well known, authors not only frequently
performed in their own dramatic productions, but that none of them
ever felt dishonoured by speaking gracefully in the presence and
hearing of their fellow-citizens.{*}
* "On sait que chez les Athéniens, les auteurs jouaient souvent dans
leurs pieces, et qu'ils n'etoient point déshonorés pour parler avec grace
devant leurs concitoyens."
In arriving at this decision, however, it will be remarked that one
simple but important proviso or condition is indicated--not to be
dishonoured they must speak with grace, that is, effectively. Whenever
an author can do this, the fact is proclaimed by the public themselves.
Does he lack the dramatic faculty, is he wanting in elocutionary skill, is
his deliver dull, are his features inexpressive, is his manner tedious, are
his readings marked only by their general tameness and mediocrity, be
sure of this, he will speedily find himself talking only to empty benches,
his enterprise will cease and determine, his name will no longer prove
an attraction. Abortive adventures of this kind have in our own time
been witnessed.
With Charles Dickens's Readings it was entirely different. Attracting to
themselves at the outset, by the mere glamour of his name, enormous
audiences, they not only maintained their original prestige during a
long series of years--during an interval of fifteen years altogether--but
the audiences brought together by them, instead of showing any signs
of diminution, very appreciably, on the contrary, increased and
multiplied. Crowds were turned away from the doors, who were unable

to obtain admittance. The last reading of all collected together the
largest audience that has ever been assembled, that ever can by
possibility be assembled for purely reading purposes, within the walls
of St. James's Hall, Piccadilly. Densely packed from floor to ceiling,
these audiences were habitually wont to hang in breathless expectation
upon every inflection of the author-reader's voice, upon every glance of
his eye,--the words he was about to speak being so thoroughly well
remembered by the majority before their utterance that, often, the
rippling of a smile over a thousand faces simultaneously anticipated the
laughter which an instant afterwards greeted the words themselves
when they were articulated.
Altogether, from first to last, there must have been considerably more
than Four Hundred--very nearly, indeed, Five Hundred--of these
Readings, each one among them in itself a memorable demonstration.
Through their delightful agency, at the very outset, largess was
scattered broadcast, abundantly, and with a wide open hand, among a
great variety of recipients, whose interests, turn by turn, were thus
exclusively subserved, at considerable labour to himself, during a
period of several years, by this large-hearted entertainer. Eventually the
time arrived when it became necessary to decide, whether an
exhausting and unremunerative task should be altogether abandoned, or
whether readings hitherto given solely for the benefit of others, should
be thenceforth adopted as a perfectly legitimate source of income for
himself professionally. The ball was at his feet: should it be rolled on,
or fastidiously turned aside by reason of certain fantastic notions as to
its derogating, in some inconceivable way, from the dignity of
authorship? That was the alternative in regard to which Dickens had to
decide, and upon which he at once, as became him, decided manfully.
The ball was rolled on, and, as it rolled, grew in bulk like a snowball. It
accumulated for him, as it advanced, and that too within a wonderfully
brief interval, a very considerable fortune. It strengthened and extended
his already widely-diffused and intensely personal popularity. By
making him, thus, distinctly a Reader himself, it brought him face to
face with vast multitudes of his own readers in the Old World and in
the New, in all parts of the United Kingdom, and at last, upon the
occasion of his second visit to America, an expedition adventured upon

expressly to that end, in all parts of the United States.
And these Readings were throughout so conspicuously and so radiantly
a success, that even in the recollection of them, now that they are things
of the past, it may be said that they have already beneficially influenced,
and are still perceptibly