dly be wondered at that, in the
annual reports issued by the committee, emphatic expression should have
been more than once given to the deep sense of gratitude entertained
by them for the services rendered to the institution by its illustrious
president-A fragmentary portion of that issued by the committee in
the January of 1864--referring, as it does, to-Charles Dickens, in
association with his home and his favourite haunts down at Gadshill--we
are here tempted to give, as indicative of the feelings of pride and
admiration with which the great author was regarded by his own
immediate neighbours. After referring to the large sums realised for the
institution through the Readings thus generously given by its president,
the committee went on to say in this report, at the beginning of 1864,
"Simply to have the name of one whose writings have become household
words at every home and hearth where the English language is spoken,
associated with their efforts for the public entertainment and
improvement, must be considered a great honour and advantage. But, when
to this is added the large pecuniary assistance derived from such a
connection, your committee find that they--and, of course, the members
whom they represent--owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Dickens, which words
can but poorly express. They trust that the home which he now occupies
in the midst of the beautiful woodlands of Kent, and so near to the
scene of his boyish memories and associations, may long be to him one of
happiness and prosperity. If Shakspere, our greatest national poet, had
before made Gadshill a classic spot, surely it is now doubly consecrated
by genius since Dickens, the greatest and most genial of modern
humorists, as well as one of the most powerful and pathetic delineators
of human character, has fixed his residence there. To those who have so
often and so lately been moved to laughter and tears by the humour and
pathos of the inimitable writer and reader, and who have profited by his
gratuitous services to the institution, your committee feel that
they need make no apology for dwelling at some length upon this most
agreeable part of their report." Thus profound were the feelings of
respect, affection, and admiration with which the master-humorist was
regarded by those who lived, and who were proud of living, in his own
immediate neighbourhood.

On the evening of Tuesday, the 30th June, 1857, Charles Dickens read for
the first time in London, at