Some time in 1863, after several preliminary hole-and-corner meetings of a few literary enthusiasts, it was announced in the newspapers that a National Shakspeare committee had been formed with the object of celebrating in some unexplained fashion the tercentenary of Shakspeare's birth. Hepworth Dixon, the then editor of “the Athenæum,” who was always hungering after notoriety, seeing the chance of a little cheap popularity, joined the movement, and speedily placed himself at its head. It was commonly rumoured that Dixon aspired to the honours of knighthood, and hoped to secure these if, when matters were ripe, the Prince of Wales accepted the office of president. His first step was to persuade his friend the Duke of Manchester, whose Kimbolton papers he had edited for him, to act as chairman of the committee. His next was to strengthen the latter by adding many notable individuals to it; after which he autocratically appointed his principal satellites as secretaries, nominating no less than a round dozen of them. He then chose a council who submitted their own names for the approval of the general committee, and were elected by the narrow majority of two, which they thought warranted them in describing themselves as the representatives of the “intellect, wealth, and commercial enterprise of the nation.” Vice-presidents were next appointed, including a string of noblemen, and three distinguished literary men—Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Alfred Tennyson, and Charles Dickens.

A section of the committee was strongly of opinion that Mr. Thackeray should be joined to the foregoing, and at an ensuing meeting I proposed inviting him to become one of our vice-presidents.