The Sun.
London, England, 1864-02-25 00:00:00

BENJAMIN WEBSTER.

Who, by his natural ability, strict integrity, and unceasing
diligence, has been raised to the highest position in the dra-
matic profession, and whose zeal on behalf of " The Poor
Player" has placed him in the honourable position of Mas-
ter of the Royal Dramatic College, Master of the Drury-lane
Theatrical Fund, and President of the Dramatic, Equestrian,
and Musical Sick Fund Association, the firstnamed honour
having been conferred upon him under the direct sanction
of her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen, Patroness of the
College.
In the proud position of Master of the Benevolent Insti-
tutions connected with the Dramatic Profession, and having
three London Theatres, one his own freehold, and two under
his own management, he may joyfully look back to the com-
mencement of his difficult career, feeling himself an honour-
able representative of well-applied intelligence, strict
honesty, persevering indnatry, and great kindness, since
those qualities alone have obtained for him the high honour
he now enjoys, and this expression of the sincere regard of
those associated with him in giving effect to the purposes of
the Royal Dramatic College. In the language of Shakspere
ha may truthfully reply—

" This is no flattery ; these are counselors
That feelingly persuade me what I am,"
London, February, 1864.
He concluded thus :—Testimonials have sometimes
been justly objected to as inapplicable to certain
cases, but there is a special appropriateness in them
in reference to the actor, whose profession is the only
one that is absolute.y personal, and whatever
honours are paid to him must be paid in his life-
time. In the actor's occupation there is a combina-
tion of qualities rare to find, which are called into
requisition under the very eyes of the public—
figure, expression, grace, voice, deportment, and
intelligence in the secrets of art which almost
amounts to a kind of inspiration, for it cannot be
taught, although it may be trained. Now this
personal occupation must be carried out by the actor
himself; he can delegate nothing to others. There-
fore it is that his triumphs are fugitive ; his fame
perishes with him ; he leaves not a wrack behind.
Unlike the author, the painter, and the sculptor,
nothing remains of his genius but a barren tradition.
His book is filled with the words of others; his
pictures are painted upon air ; his sculpture is a
phantom. He lives in a world of dreams, peopled

by creatures of the imagination ; and when he dies,
the phantasmagoria which he inspired with tem-
porary life vanish with him. (Loud cheers.)
Mr. WEBSTER, who was very much afft,cted, on
rising to reply, said :—Gentlemen—friends I will
call you, and I believe truthfully—even though it is
said teat a man of many friends may at some time
need one--this is the second honour conferred upon
me, first in my esteem, because a larger experience
of my services has not proved that I have been
found wanting
in your consideration, nor your re-
gard for me moulted one feather; while your kind
intentions, conveyed to me by my old and good
friend, Mr. Robert Ball, have so overpowered me,
that no words can express to you what I feel. This
is no fable. To be twice honoured, as I have been,
in this especial way, cannot but convince me that I
have done the drama's state some service, and they
know it. As your worthy chairman proceeded in
his flowery harangue of the choicest language, 1

felt my powers of utterance waxing smaller and

smaller, until I could have exclaimed with Othello,
" Silence that dreadful Bell! it frightens thP power
of speech oat of me." Bat my honour lb at stake,

and I must redeem the pledge with unalloyed grati-
tude. The memorial you have prase dme with

is not gold—it is not the silver cupping process for
the exhibition, but it is an illuminated page in the

history of my life, given as an honest token of
friendship and esteem to a man who can honestly

say he has done his best, without a thought of os-
tentation, for his brotherhood; and could memory

hold a seat in this dramatic globe as long as I could
wish, it would be gratefully remembered for ages t•

come. I have been strongly and flatteringly al-

tided to in ■o many phases of my profession, that I

am almost fearful your chairman has laid himself

open to criminal proceedings for the number of
good characters he has given me ; but in my future

conduct I will endeavour to save him from such a

dilemma by proving, if I can, that he did not much
overstep the bounds of prudence in his opinion
of the past. First, the player—and I have been
a very poor player, both on and off the stage,
mentally and physically—and in those times it was
fortunate that I was not a poor player on the vio-