The Sun.
London, England, 1864-02-12 00:00:00

LONDON, FRIDAY, FEB. 12, 1864.

The marriage of the Count de PARIS with the
daughter of the Duke de MONTPENSIER is officially
a:anounced. The Queen of SPAIN has given the
cuatomary information to the other Sovereigns,
and, among various complimentary responses, has
received affectionate congratulations from—the
Emperor NAPOLEON ! The present Sovereign of
Franca and secure ruler of the French people, can
afford to offer his congratulations, no doubt hearty
and sincere—for what has he to fear from such an
alliance ?—to the exiled heir of Louis PHILIPPE.
When that very wily and over-clever sovereign, in
the plenitude of his wisdom concocted the crowning
scheme of his deeply-planned family aggrandisement
—the Spanish Marriage—be did not foresee that the
result would be, in after times, the marriage of a
daughter of his son and the Spanish Infanta, with the
throneless,hopeless, exiled inheritor of all the glorious
expectations of the royal house of ORLEANS. Truly
a sad anti-climax to so much ambitious anticipation
—perhaps an appropriate catastrophe to "a sinister
career." So much for the disappointed hopes and
frustrated ambition of Louis PHILIPPE. For the
young bridegroom, as an individual member of an
amiable and admirable family, there can only he
experienced one unanimous feeling of interest and
sympathy. Whatever obloquy may have justly
followed the deceitful policy of the father, the
late ex-King of the FRENCH, his whole
family, from the revered and virtuous Queen
MARIE•AMELIE and his numerous sons and
daughters, have always merited and obtained a
very large share of the popular respect and ad.
miration—sentiments which no mere rank no mere
royalty can purchase, and which can only be earned
by individual excellence. General good wishes and
congratulations, as " affectionate" as those of the
Emperor NAPOLEON, will be showered upon the
young couple. It is only to be regretted that in
the present generation of the House of Orleans,

inter-marriages should ba so much in vogue. It
was but the other day that a fami.y party assem-
bled at Ciaremont—sacred to the memory of disap-
pointed hopes—to celebrate the union of the daugh-
ter of the Prince DE JOINVILLE with her cousin, the
Due de CHARTRES, another grandchild of Louis
PHILIPPE. The marriage of the Count DE Pants
is the second or third instance of such alliances
among the nearly related members of the exiled
family. It is to lae hoped that it will be the last,
and that the example of the youthful heir of the
House may not be followed by the junior branches.
Under very different circumstances from those which
surrounded his cradle, the young Count of PARIS
will celebrate his marriage. At the time of his
birth his grandfather was in the pride of
his power, and the first-born son of the
I)uc d'ORLEANs was hailed as the cer-

tain inheritor of the Crown of France,
amid rejoicings similar to those which have just
greeted the advent of the grandson and future heir
of our own sovereign, the young Count de PARIS
was welcomed to existence. In the satisfaction with
which the English people hail another heir to their
royal house, the happy assurances of a past ex-
perience give a safe guarantee for the anticipations
of the future. With the subjects of the new King
of the FRENCH, it was otherwise. All there was in
futuro—promises and pledges given only to be dis-
appointed. Therefore it is that; the hope of the
house—

"The heir of Palaces without a home"—

may celebrate his marriage day only as a private
individual. We may trust that the domestic happi-
ness which ha: hitherto been among the happy
possessions of the offspring of Queen MARIE
AMELIE may now become the precious inheritance
of th© heir of ORLEANS, and may compensate him
for all other disappointments.

The annual assembly of the friends and supporters
of the Dramatic, Equestrian, and Musical Sick Fund
Association took place on Wednesday. The ladies
and gentlemen who take a prominent part in the
social gathering are gifted with quick wit and ready
talent, besides possessing to a high degree that tact
and self-possession secured by the experience of a
long public career. Such was especially the case
on this occasion, when the list of the company
assembled to do honour to this admirable institu-
tion included most of the foremost names in the
ranks of our dramatic talent. The speeches showed
no diminution of their accustomed brilliancy either
in the gay sallies of Mrs. STIRLING, or the interest-
ing reminiscences of Mr. BUCKSTONE, who was the
occupant of the presiding chair, a post for which he
was eminently well fitted. In proposing the toast
of the evening, Mr. BUCKSTONE, with a mixture of
humour and pathos, explained the objects of the
association. " When the poor actor," ho said, "is
cast down by illness, and unable to don his theatri-
cal dress for Hamlet, Sir Peter, or Mr. Box—when
the musician has no wind for his trombone—the
singer unable to bringout hisfalsetto—or the eques-
trian cannot obtain a leg up' for his rapid act of
horsemanship—this association helps him till his
troubles are over, and if he succumbs to them, it
buries him. What can it do more ?" It is a fact
worth notice, as contradicting in a great measure the
general opinion entertained of the thriftlessness and
recklessness of the theatrical profession with regard to
money matters, that where loans have been advanced
by this society for the purpose of enabling actors to
carry on their engagements, they have always been
punctually repaid. The unprofessional reader may
naturally overlook the serious perplexity which an
inevitable journey may be to the at rug;ling young
actor of limited means. Could we tell by what
privations and even sufferiog4 the minor actors
sometimes reach their place of performance, we
s'iould look with interest even on the " walking
gentleman"
and confidential companion. Mr.
BUCKSTONE, in the plentitude of his
reputation and
success, can afford to tell us some of the secrets
of
the prisonhouse. As ho had once been a poor
country actor himself he said he could well aP re-
siate the benefits of this society, for had it existedP in
his provincial days it might have saved him iaras tn :to
awn what
a at
long journey on foot and many a w
he was to do. He once walkedseviesnptyoc-
ktwet°.
miles with only fourpence-halfpenny in his
Another time, being part of a theatrical company
assembled at Folkestone, whose manager saddenly
decamped, he had to consider how to get to London,