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books have done than the arrogance of the man of letters is commonly
inclined to admit. Very much is said in our time about Apollo and
Admetus, and the impossibility of asking genius to work within
prescribed limits or assist an alien design. But after all, as a matter
of fact, some of the greatest geniuses have done it, from Shakespeare
botching up bad comedies and dramatising bad novels down to Dickens
writing a masterpiece as the mere framework for a Mr. Seymour's
sketches. Nor is the true explanation irrelevant to the spirit and power
of Dickens. Very delicate, slender, and _bizarre_ talents are indeed
incapable of being used for an outside purpose, whether of public good
or of private gain. But about very great and rich talent there goes a
certain disdainful generosity which can turn its hand to anything. Minor
poets cannot write to order; but very great poets can write to order.
The larger the man's mind, the wider his scope of vision, the more
likely it will be that anything suggested to him will seem significant
and promising; the more he has a grasp of everything the more ready he
will be to write anything. It is very hard (if that is the question) to
throw a brick at a man and ask him to write an epic; but the more he is
a great man the more able he will be to write about the brick. It is
very unjust (if that is all) to point to a hoarding of Colman's mustard
and demand a flood of philosophical eloquence; but the greater the man
is the more likely he will be to give it to you. So it was proved, not
for the first time, in this great experiment of the early employment of
Dickens. Messrs. Chapman and Hall came to him with a scheme for a string
of sporting stories to serve as the context, and one might almost say
the excuse, for a string of sketches by Seymour, the sporting artist.
Dickens made some modifications in the plan, but he adopted its main
feature; and its main feature was Mr. Winkle. To think of what Mr.
Winkle might have been in the hands of a dull _farceur_, and then to
think of what he is, is to experience the feeling that Dickens made a
man out of rags and refuse. Dickens was to work splendidly and
successfully in many fields, and to send forth many brilliant books and
brave figures. He was destined to have the applause of continents like a
statesman, and to dictate to his publishers like a despot; but perhaps
he never worked again so supremely well as here, where he worked in
chains. It may well