assembly."
As recently as within these last two centuries, indeed, both in the
development of the career of Moliere 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 Moliere," 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 Atheniens, les auteurs jouaient
souvent dans leurs pieces, et qu'ils n'etoient point
deshonores 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 ceili