The Sun.
London, England, 1862-04-15 00:00:00

ROYAL GENERAL THEATRICAL FUND,

The l'ith anniversary in connection with this
fund was held last evening at the Freemasons'
Tavern. About 200 gentlemen were present, and
it wan understood that the privilege, for the first
time granted, of opening the theatres in Passion
week, had been attended with an effect rather pre-
judicial than otherwise to the funds of the charity,
in preventing many of itslabitual supporters from
being present. Imitating the Italian example,
ladies were admitted to the Freemasons'-hall, but
only in the character of spectators. The chair was
filled by Mr. Alfred Wigan. Among those present
were Earl Somers, Sir Coutts Liedsay, Mr. T. P.
Cooke, Mr. B. Webster, Mr. Buckstone, Mr. Stir-
ling Coyne, Mr. Cullenford, Mr. Cathcart, Mr.
Alfred Mellon, Mr. W. Firren, &c. The dinner
and the wines were in all respects creditable to the
resources of this well-known establishment. The
usual loyal toasts followed the withdrawal of the
cloth ; and

The CHAIRMAN, in proposing the health of that
glorious trio, " The Army, the Navy, and the Vo-
lunteers," said the army were entitled to the pecu-
liar gratitude of the theatricalprofession, for where-
ever they went they became the missionaries of the
drama. (Hear, hear.) Guardsmen before Sebastopol
shaved twice a day in order to personate the
heroines of the play; and on one occasion an
apology was thus made at the theatre of the Naval
Brigade for the omission of the song " Black-eyed
Susan :"—" The hand as used to chant it had his
head blowed off that morning in the trenches."
(Laughter and applause.) The navy now occupied
a very peculiar position ; but however stern might
be the Monitor, the service included one or two little
boys who would show it that respect which was
generally exhibited by boys towards their monitor.
(Applause.) The chairman concluded by proposing
in connection with the toast, "The Health of Mr.
T. P. Cooke."

Mr. T. P. COOKE, who was very warmly received,
briefly responded, observing that he belonged to the
last century, when ships were really ships, and not
iron turtles.

The CHAIRMAN next gave the toast of the even-
ing, and, in doing so, observed the General Theatri-
cal Fund was established 18 years ago, to supply a
want that was felt for an additional institution of
the same nature as the Drury-lane and Covent-gar-
den Funds, which, from various causes, had been
found inadequate to the exigencies of the profes-
sion for whose benefit they were instituted. It re-
sembled those excellent institutions in this, that the
actor was enabled, by means of a small annual pay-
ment, to claim as aright,not as a charity, an annuity
in the event of his being disabled from the practice
of his profession either through ill-health, age, or
other legitimate cause—much as r.;;r public servants
received the support of a pension from Government,
only, he was sorry to say, the comparison held good
in n o respect as to the means at command. It differed
from those funds in this, that all members of the
profession were admitted to its benefits, without re-
striction as to age, sex, length or place of service
whereas the privilege of admission to Drury-lane
and Covent-garden Funds was surrounded by many
bars and limitations, no doubt necessary at the time
they were imposed, but which the various changes
it, the constitution of theatres and of the theatrical
profession rendered worse than useless. Although
appealing directly to their charitable feelings, he
should be loth to place the claims of the profession
before them in any light that would lower the dignity
of a serious and responsible calling—one in which
they were answerable to Heaven and their country
to uphold the cause of morality. (Cheers.) In
weighing their profession in the balance with others
the name of Shakapere would, like the sword of
Brennus, bear down the scale, however loaded to
their disadvantage. But it was not in hi 3 mighty
name alone that they laid claim to respect. They
-..ere, or should be, a means of education, not to be
claspised even in the present day of universal learn-
ing and competitive examination. The intellect
was only one of the component parts of man, and it
should not be forgotten in this stirring, struggling
generation, that there was a moral and corporeal
education, and a cultivation of the imagination, also
necessary to complete manhood. (Hear.) It had
been brought against them that they were too
anxious to laugh and to make laugh, to juggle and
play tricks, and to think when they pocketed the
proceeds the affair was ended. Whenever they did
so, they degraded themselves and wronged the pub-
lic. (Hear.) The power of instruction possessed
by the stage might perhaps of late have fallen some-
what into disuse, but it must be allowed that the
drama had this advantage over all other forms of
drama
"telling combined with amusement—that its influ-
ence acted by example rather than by precept
(Rear.) The •
r art, though
akgwheabneeasus of all
and a useful
one, shared thet inherent
all the fine
arts. It did not increase the material produce of
the world, uwould
be classed by the political
economist among the unproductive labours ; and,
inasmuch as it was not directly productive, it must
always bo to a large number
rs ee uh no r
pa
at
ri vt
le;
g f
rBo um
t
he would venture to remind
prejudice—inrounded—partly
from absolute ignorance former
days
of wellal
l that was said
and
done in theatres, regarded them with
disfavour

that the more the cultivated and pure, those whose
tastes and instincts required wholesome food, ab-
stained from the theatre, the more subject it would
be to those evil influences which sorely tempted
the actor to lower his teaching to the standard that
he found would please. (Loud applause.) The
actor was subject to the most sudden variations
of fortune, as all men must be who were more or
less dependent on the fluctuating fashions of public
taste, and he was dependent more than any other
man on his personality. His duties could not be
performed by deputy. A dramatic representation
was so complicated a piece of machinery that the
absence of even the smallest wheel might destroy
the whole structure; if he could stand and speak,
act he must. He must leave the bedside of the sick
wife, the dying child, assume the dress and manner
of ease and wealth with an aching heart and an
empty cupboard. (Hear, hear.) Other men
went through trials as severe of their kind, but
there was something in the Contrast bet cveen the
real and the counterfeit life of the actor which in
the hour of suffering was peculiarly ghastly.
(Hear, hear.) The rewards of the successful
actor were immediate, brilliant, and intoxicating,
but they were as fleeting as they were brilliant,
and the wave of a single generation was enough to
wash away his shallow footsteps on the sands of time.
(Applause.) Even for the most prosperous actor
there was ever the peril of failing health, which
might at any moment stop the most brilliant career.
But there was another class on whom the accident
that prevented the continuance of their exertions
fell with a paralysing weight—that numerous class
as necessary to the full development of the drama as
the brightest stars, who had cheerfully accepted and
worthily sustained their humble professional posi-
tion. However prudently managed, their incomes
afforded little hope of expansion, while the necessi-
ties and the various claims of life increased in undue
proportion. To these how often anxious thought for
the future occurred their ill-spared contributions to
this fund bore honourable testimony. The Chair-
man made a very earnest and feeling appeal for as-
sistance to all who felt that their debt of gratitude
to the actor had not been discharged by the price
paid for their seats, and in conclusion, gave two in-
stances of the benefits afforded by this fund. A
gentleman, young, of promising ability, with a
young wife dependent on him and his professional
earnings for existence, in one instant, by the falling
of a stage platform on which he was standing, be-
came a cripple for life, utterly incapable of further
professional exertion. The other, a young lady, with
no husband to support and protect her, after a few
months of failing sight, became totally blind.
Neither of their subscriptions had at the time of
their calamity exceeded £2O, and they were each of
them in the receipt of an annuity from that fund of
£6O a•year. (Applause.)
Mr. BUCKSTONE responded, and after passing a
high personal eulogium on the chairman, went
on to say—The objects of the General Theatrical
Fund are now so well known that it is only ne-
cessary for me to state that it receives members
from every• theatre in the kingdom when they
have been before the public for a certain number
of years, and that when prevented by age, acci-
dent, or infirmity from fulfilling their duties,
they become annuitants. When these annuities
are granted it is not considered as an
act of charity, or as given to persons who have
never in any way prepared for old age, but as an
act of justice to those who have been provident,
and who claim such annuities as their right ; and,
as I have subscribed to this fund for 23 years, when
I become old and infirm—(laughter)—should I need
my annuity I shall not hesitate to claim it—(cheers)
though I hope I shall not only never need it, but
never become old and infirm. (Laughter.) The
number of our subscribing members is 170. We
have 17 annuitants, to whom, during the year, we
have given more than £7OO ; and our capital, when
this night is over, will not be far short of £13,000.
Our fund is now firmly established, and I hope I
may be allowed to assure you it is one of the most
flourishing and best managed institutions in the
country. (Cheers.) I have also to inform you, gen,
tlemen, that during the past year we have received
a legacy of £2lO left to us by Lady Morgan—once,
as many of you may know, a distinguished writer,
and the daughter of a theatrical manager. It is
to be hoped that her ladyship's kind recollection of
tie art she followed in her youth may act as an
example to many other wealthy lovers of the drama,
and if some of them, who for 30 or 40 years have
visited the theatre, and enjoyed during that time
their hundreds of hearty laughs at some of our
comedians, and perhaps tragedians, were only to
remember our fund at the rate of a halfpenny a
laugh it would produce a very acceptable sum.
Gentlemen, I am sorry to alarm you with the intel-

ligence that I was fearful we should not have met
here in this banqueting hall to-night--in plain
words, that we should have had no dinner to-day,
as our excellent Lord Chamberlain has given per-
mission that all the theatres may be open this
week, except on Friday. To be sure some of the
clergy have striven with might and main to make
his lordship reverse his decision, and so deprive
about 5,000 or 6,000 poor men, women, and chil-
dren of their daily bread—(hear)—and when there
was no sensible necessity for it ; but I am happy to
say his lordship has stood firmly against this forty-
parson-power pressure. (Laughter and cheers.) Still
if the Haymarket had been opened this evening,

he treasurer of our fund could not have been
here; the secretary might have been missing, and
you would have found yourselves short of stewards
to remind you of your donations. However, long
before his lordship's permission to open in Passion-
week was sent to the Haymaiket manager he had
decided to employ that time in cleansing and deco-
rating that theatre, a process it required after four
years' constant use, and preparatory to the opening
of the National Exhibition ; so, as the clown says
at Chritsmas, " Here we are again." (Cheers.) But
why the Chamberlain should have been called upon
to withdraw his permission, and compel the theatres
to close, seems difficult to understand. The shops
are open, trade is going ou, the lawyers are talking
in the law courts, work-people are at work every-
where, the music-halls are open, and you may hear
"Aunt Sally," though you may not listen to Shaks-
peare or Sheridan. Then why is the poor player to
hold his tongue P A certain philosopher has said
that if any one set of men ought to go to heaven
more than another it is the rascals, because, he
argues, what fools the poor fellows are, what frights
they undergo, what infanAy they get, and what ends
they come to ! are they, he says, to have nothing
for all this? Now, I think if any class ought to be
made happy more than any other, it is the players ;
see how bishops, deans, and reverends are continu-
ally rising up against us; recollect how we are
obliged to be silent on Ash Wednesday, or when
any day of thanksgiving is appointed, and on other
occasions; think how we are denounced from some
of the sensation pulpits—(laughter)—and by per-
sons who know nothing whatever about us; think
how we are sometimes hissed—and are we to have
nothing for all this ? I kno ,v we are often encou-
raged by your applause, encouraged, too, by seeing
Sou assemble on such occasions as the present, and
encouraged in many other ways. Yet this med-
dling of the serious party with the amusements
of the people and the tolerant views of the Cham-
berlain only reminds me of what a countryman
once said in a pleasant little village when I
asked him if they danced round the Maypole
there now on May-day. "We used to," was
his reply, " but it's all been done away with by
the clergy—they put it down." " What for P" I
inquired. "Well, sir," he answered, " because they
can't bear to see people enjoy themselves."
(Laughter.) Mr. Buckstone after some further
observations concluded as follows :—We shall soon
have many more claimants, therefore help us to do
our duty by them all. We know you have had
numerous calls upon your bounty lately, and all for
excellent objects ; but still, please to remember the
poor player—please to remember those who in thair
days of health and strength have done their best to
amuse and instruct you, and also remember that
charity is like mercy, "It blesseth him that gives
and him that takes."
(Loud applause.)
said the proposing the next toast,
that evening been taken off the
theatrical profession, and, for the first time, it had
Bb.
alnVEhßaSdT.Etnh,
been raised one step abaee acrobats and niggers.

THE SUN, LOl4 DO Ns TUESD EVENING, APRIL lk 1862.

He concluded by proposing in very eulogistic terms,
"the health of the Chairman," who had not only
earned sufficient to maintain his wife and himself
in comfort for their lives, but had given vitality to
two theatres which it was supposed could not pos-
sibly exist.
The CHAIRMAN returned thanks, and the list of
subscriptions, amounting to several hundreds of
pounds, having been gone through, other toasts
followed, the intervals being filled with musical
selections admirably performed.