PRE FA C E. W H AT a different thing talking is compared with writing ! I am on tour when I jot down th is fl h profound re ection . My dear friend J osep Hatton has been on my track since we parted in town , a month or two ago , with this one message , by post and telegram— “ You ought to write the ! ” Preface , every word of it As it is my own I I Preface of course ought , and of course have done so . But wh ile the writing of it has been a labour of love , it has bothered me a good deal u more than a labour of love is s pposed to do . Many times I have adm ired the skill with which my collaborator has written , i n these pages , stories which seemed to me to require , for a complete n narratio , the point one puts i nto an anecdote I when acting it . am occasionally called upon to I make a speech i n public . Well , get along now and then pretty well , thanks to the inspiration that seems to come to me f rom the friendly sym pathy of my aud ience but there is no inspiration P REFACE . in a blank sheet of paper , and there is no applause in pen s and ink . When one makes a speech one seeks kindly faces around one , and it is wonderful what assistance there is in a little applause . You take up the report of a speech in a newspaper ; “ i s you see that it peppered with Laughter , ” s Applause , Loud cheer , and so on that sets you reading it , and carries you on to the end . I t is very much the same with a speaker he makes his l ittle joke , and there is a laugh , wh ich helps him to his ne x t ; then he says a n ice thing about the s occasion , and get a round of applause ; that m helps him on h is road to the cli ax , when he — hopes to finish up , and mostly does with a burst I of enthusiasm . What am coming to is an em phasis of my original point—the tremendous difference between speaking and writing . S itting down i n cold blood , as it were , to intro I I duce these Reminiscences , feel that can only be more or less formal in my expressions of d iffi ’ c I . den e , hoping don t intrude , and so on Hatton " a s . says , M ake the Pref ce a peech , if you l ike But how can I make a speech to an audience whom 7 I cannot s e e I t would be like speaking into a phonograph . I f there were any applause , one would have to make it oneself. That would be s t c/a zw the wor kind of g i maginable . I f our public e the sp aking of future is to be done in this way , P REFACE . ix what is to become of the personal magnetism of I the orator N evertheless , am told by scientific forecasters that fifty years hence a public speaker will simply address h is phonograph , and send the cylinders to be reeled off on the platform of ’ St . J ames s H all , or wherever the great meeting may be held , while he remains comfortably at home or Spends the evening at his club , to read in due course a full report of his speech in the newspapers . I t will be a curious change i n the administration of public affairs . There will , how — ever , be one great advantage to a speaker ; his b e remarks will assuredly be correctly reported , of cause , course , his phonograph ic cylinders will be handed to the Press , and the printers will set s up their types from the voice it elf. This may be a little awkward where other speeches are being set up into type . The noise of a lot of phono grams being reeled off at the same time must be rather confusing ; but , of course , if that is so , they will invent someth ing to meet the case . As long ’ as they don t invent phonographic theatres , with all the good actors and good play s of an entire season thrown into the purchase of a fireside I instrument , it does not much matter . But am u s diverging . Let get back to the point where the phonograph interrupted us . I t was Hatton ’ s last resort to follow me up w ith P REFACE . “ I the suggestion , M ake it a speech . was having a holiday at Aix , but the shadow of th e I Preface fell upon me even at the Kursaal . went to Lucerne , where our friend I rving was staying , and the thought of this address to the reader added a deeper shadow , in my estimation , t h I to the natural reflections of e lake . had to go to Lucerne to give I rving my ideas upon some flf a /z I t o new readings in céet . am bound say they were not received with the gravity one is accustomed to in tragedians . But that is neither I I . here nor there , and fear am again d igressing I t s is as tonishing what you can do under pre sure . I t w as not my idea to wri te these Rem iniscences ; ' it was not H atton s i dea ; it was the outcome of a request from M r . Tillotson , the great Literary Syndic who supplies the N ewspaper Press with the works of Wilkie Collins , William Black , M iss B raddon , Rider Haggard , M rs . Oliphant , Walter t . Besan , and the othe r leading novelists of the day T I t was illotson who said to my collaborator , Why n ot the Reminiscences of Toole for a ” “ n ? cha ge And Hatton of course said , Why ” ? — s not as well he might , eeing that he had al ready been making a few notes about me , in , however , such a vague kind of way that they would have come to noth ing but for the stimulus of T illotson ’ s desire to introduce into his P REFACE . xi l iterary wares the truth that is stranger than fiction ; a st imulus which fixed Hatton to dates of production , and which made me the slave of Hatton ; the I w illing slave , am ready to admit , for we are old friends , we have sympath ies i n com mon ; and it has been a great an d novel delight to me to see ’ these chapters grow under the expert s hand , to an e c read the proofs , and to have my words and dotes , my ideas and notions photographed in type . I f the readers only enjoy the story that follows as much as I have enjoyed telling it to my collaborator , and as much as he says he has enjoyed writing it , we shall be a happy family of i t authors and readers . You know how is when you make a speech you often think of the clever dungs you couhi have a nd afle r yo u have sat down . I t is similar with Reminiscences , as you will discove r when you come to tell your own story , as of course you will tell it . Everybody is relating his reminiscences nowadays , and a capital form of literature it is . H ow do you do P I When are your reminiscences coming out will , t expec , become a regular form of social salutation soon very much better too than always begi n ning c am onversations with the weather . I continually thinking of som ething I ought to have said in the c hapters that are closed . and I hope those of my x fi P REFACE . friends who expect me to relate all the incidents i n which they are i n terested will forgive me if they are disappointed . I have had many letters pointing out things I o ught to have mentioned duri ng the run of the Reminiscences , and I have made additions and corrections here and there , and with much satisfaction ; bu t I cannot remem ber every boy who was at school with me , nor every man I have m e t since nor is it necessary to record all the C ircumstances under wh ich I have written orders for the play . M oreover , I have not had i t qui te all my own way i n these records , and I offer this fact as an additional explanation and apology for sundry om issions . I t was not merely with a desire to tell my story that H atton donned hi s li te rary gear ; but to interest and amuse the I f t public . he had set led down into the regular groove of biograph ical narrative , with all i ts s solemni tie of dates , with its records of school t days , its early ambitions , i ts li tle battles , and its s big disappointments , its diary note and its copies ou of letters from celebrities and others , y would not have been coax ed through six hundred pages as you will now , nor would you have had as cha racte ri st i c a sketch of a career in which so many of you , my good and kind friends , have shown so much generous and tender interest .