The Sun.
London, England, 1849-05-23 00:00:00

HEAUTS WHICH HAVE NO ECHOES

Some hearts lie wither'd in their transient spring
Long ere tht!, yellow leaf of change began;
Seldom to them does human summer briug
A beaming welcome from the soul of man.

They bear a burden language could not speak,
They feel depression tar too fine for tears,
And blush to fancy the betray ful cheek
Should wear the paleness of their inward fears.

• • • • • • • •
And, there be aspirations, strong and deep,
And wing'd desires that, eagle-like, would soar,
Which never waken from their worldless sleep,

But prey upon the spirit more and more.
And when quick minds, electrically strung
As though each chord of feeling moved on fire,
Some pang would tell, bow oft the tearful tongue
Has felt each accent on the lip expire.
And thus, there is a loneliness of heart,
In all deep soul.: a never-enter'd shrine
. .

Where neither nor friendship takes a part,
And no eyes witness, but, Jehovah ! Thine.

But shall we mctirr, that each is circled round

With veiling 2.-.-.).:.ttry from the ken of man?
That waters deep the soul abound

No word has ial,,om'd, and no wisdom can ?

None are so chasl , unselfish, and sincere
As not to feel I' taint of Adam's fall ;
So, heaven in mercy hides that inmost sphere,
Where each dreAs each, and all would censure all.
Yet, beats ONE HEART all other hearts above,
Whose sympathy no human errors tire,—
E'en Thine, pine Lurd of untreated love,
Incarnate Semblance of the heavenly Sire !
There, may we prove deep tenderness divine,
,
And yet, so human that it wept and sigh d;
And when to coldness eumber'd hearts incline,
Haste we to him who loved us till He died!
There is no Eelf in that almighty Heart,
No changing motion in the casual will,
For Thou,, Lord Christ! celestial mercy art,
• And though n e shun Thee, Thou art gracious still.
•
Others may geza with half averted eyes
c itis oisipleuarEnt,
aorrescbarneattlhieedwoouer inward winew sighs,
lofeel,
But o'er
His breast our yeird emotions steal.
2tn old 'de
Nor can one shade or sorrow clothe the cheek,
Nor teardrop from the spirit's fountain roll,
But He interprets what no tongue can speak.
And reads the thinking volume of the soul!
Here boast the Saints, what no britght Seraph can,—
That they have sympathy upon
Christ loves the Angel, but he feels for man,
Whose very nature hash become His own.
No hearts beat echo!ess, if they believe
A more than Brother in yon heaven 3 is theirs,
Who loves them most when all alone they grieve,
And with His incense Both perfume their prayers.

COWER, ISLB OF WIGHT MAT 22.—Anaivar, OF
THE COURT AT OsBORNE.—A few minutes after one o'clock
a discharge of cannon from the Castle and Royal Yacht
Squadron Battery announced the arrival of the royal yachts
with her Majesty and suite, flags and banners waved, and
the people of WestCowes, to testify their loyalty, assembled
on the Fountain Wharf with a band of music, and as the
royal family passed they loudly cheered, and the band struck
up 6, God save the Queen."

IT IV
-14S.s•-•• n
- - .L

GENERAL THEATRICAL FUN 1)
ANNIVERSARY FESTIVAL.
Ou Mondap evening a ldilliant festival was held.g-
London. Tavern, BishopFgate-street, to commemortite• 44-44 IA :kr 15
tenth anniversary of the General Theatrical Fund, at
which about 200 gentlemen were pr‘ sent, including some '
of the most eminent comedians and, lit( ri.ry men of the
present day.

Charles Kean, Eeq., presided, on the occasion; and
among the gentlemen who occupied scats in the itnrce-
diate vicinity of the chair we noticed Charles Dickens,
Esq., Rev. A. Dyce, Sir John Burgoyne, Major General,
K.C.8., Major-General Grant, C. 8., Major-General.
Charritie, T. H. Jesse, the Historian ; Sir Charles
Young, Garter King-at-Arms ; Sir George Pocock,
Leach, the Artist; Dr. Forbes Winslow; J. Judd,
Eq., Surgeon of the 3d; Captain D'Aguilar, Grenadier
Guards; Mejor Boys, G. Lovell, Esq., author of the
TlVe's Secret; Ibbetson, Esq., cum multis alas.
The gallery at the end of the room and the reserved
seats behied the chair were occupied by an immense
number of elegantly dressed ladies, whose presence lent
an additional fascination to the brilliancy of the festival.
Ateorig the ladies immediately behind the chair we ob.
served Mrs. Charles Kean, also Mrs. C. Dickens.
The musical arrangements of the evening, which were
unusually attractive, were under the eminent direction
of Mr. balte, assisted by Miss Dolby, Madame Duleken,
Miss Lansford, Mr. Hobbs, and several other eminent '
artistes, all of whom gave their services gratuitously.
On the removal of the cloth the grace was beautifully
sung by the professional vocalists.
The CHAIRMAN then rose and said--Gentlemen, in
rising to propose the first toast of the evening, it ha-
-1 comes my pleasing duty previously to anncunce that our
Gracious Sovereign, the patroness of this Fund, ever
foremost to recognise the claims of art, and to relieve
the wants of artists, has presented this institution with a
third donation of 100/.—(Loud cheers.) I anticipate
the burst of enthusiastic love and respect with which the
health of her Majesty Queen Victoria will be received
by the present company.—(Cheers.) The members of
the theatrical profession have ever been signalised for
their devoted loyalty.—(Cheers.). You are well aware
that in the troubled times of Charles the First, those
times when, according to the poet—
" Civil dudgeon first grew high,
And men fell out they knew not why."
—(Laughter.) When domestic quarrels and puritanical
frenzy closed the theatres, many of the actors took up
arms in defence of their Royal Master.—(Applause.)
Hart, Rubinson, and Mobilo held commissions in
the King's service, and were remarkable for their gale
lant conduct ; and at a later period Smith, Griffin,
Carlisle and Wiltshire, served as captains in the wars
or William 111., and the two latter tell honourably on
the field of battle.—(Cheers.) I mention those facts
with mingled pride and satisfaction on the present we
cssion. The distinguished company I have now the
honour to address are all deeply interested in the pros-
perity of the drama.—(Cheers.) Those among us who
are not actors are equally well versed with ourselves in
the history of the stage, and as fully impressed as we
are with the difficulties that have lately impeded its pro-
gress and somewhat obscured its brilliancy. But a
star of light has arisen on the darkened horizon of our
prospects, and I trust I am not too sanguine when I hail
it as the harbinger of a favouring dawn, of a steady and
improving sunshine. I allude to the late series ot the-
atrical performances at Windsor Castle, which took
place by the command of her Majesty and his Royal
Highness Prince Albert.—(Applause.) We all owe a deep
debt of gratitude for the high honour thus conferred on
us and for the advantages we have thereby gained. By
selecting the drama for their hours of private relaxation,
by introducing it into the chosen circle of their domestic
privacy, by permitting the royal children in their
earliest budding youth to become familiar with the magic
verse of Shakspere, her Majesty and her Royal Consort
have stamped an importance and impressed a sterling
value on the national stage that will be long felt and
most thankfully appreciated.—(Applause.) Covered by
the protecting shield of royal favour, assisted
by the all-powerful influence and the commanding
prestige of royal taste, heralded, as I may say,
by a patent of precedency--our art and its professors
resume their position with increasing hopes and re-
doubled energy.—(Applause.) The illustrious Lady to
whose health we are about to drink, the Sovereign of
this mighty empire, filling the first public situation ita
the civilized world, by her private virtues sheds new
lustre on the throne itself, and gives an added grace to
royalty. —(Loud cheers) As Queen, as daughter,
as wile, and mother, she stands forward an example
to adisiriug millions.—(Loud cheers.) And as our
lips drain the cup let us echo back the toast—" Long
lite and increasing prosperity to her Majesty the
Queen."—(Cheers.)
Drunk upstanding with three times three ; and the
National Anthem sung by the whole assembly.
The CHAIRDIAN said the toast he was about to pro-
pose would be received with every demonstration of
loyalty and respect. He would give them " his Royal
Highness niece Albert, the ever ready encourager of
native industry awl talent, and the willing patten of
all charitable institutions—(4pluuse)—together with
Albert, Prince of Wales, the yentiilul hope of England,
and the rest of the 1/,,yel rearely."—(Cheers.)
Drunk with honours.
taotig by Mr. Hobbs.
The CHAIRMAN sail ho would next give them " The
Arwy and Navy, the indomitable bulwarks of our lode-
pee:lence," and with that toast he begged to c-uple the
honour' d and revered n, me of tee Commaid,r.in-Chief„,
thoouke of Wt hiegiori—(Cho ere)—the great living LA
C4tiLin, whose leg caner of Our) had known every.
of ear except def.( at—(lienewtd cheers)— 14f;
chess name wag (.3-non) :sous with victor)—wt:om the
t historian of the Peninsular war justly desig-
nKte(l a; supervir to Marlbomuti, for he had beaten
better Gei,era!s th,:n Marlboiuugl ever encountered.
M:,jor General Sir J. BunoomE trictly acknowledged
the complitn, nt on behalf of the film).
Song by .‘;iss I.kl!fy—" My Lords, I salute ye."
The CHAIRMAN then rose in propose the toast of the
evening. The distinguished eentleman spoke as fol-
lows:—Gentlenien, in the order of toasts, as I am in-
structed to propose them, I now arrive at that which
brings immediately before us the object of the present
meeting. The cause entrusted to my feeble advocacy is
one so interesting in itself—so ell-important to the nume-
rous parties whose welfare it embraces, appealing so
exclusively to the kindest feelings of our nature, and at
the same time so dependent on the power or weakness
of its pleader, that I shrink embarrassed under the con-
sciousness of my own inability.—(Cheers.) I feel myself
unequal to the task of carrying up this noble argument
to its full vindication, and lament that it has not de-
volved on one more experienced in the duties of a chair-
man—on one less accustomed to repeat exclusively the
thoughts of others—on one more gifted with the
grace of speech, and endowed with that per•
suasive eloquence which enchains the reason,
wins the heart, and controls the symrathies.
—(Loud cheers.) I stand before you as the advocate
of Christian charity, of simple, pure benevolence, as
counsel for the old, the indigent, and the helpless mem-
bers of our profession. Your own generous feelings will
stipply my deficiencies, and will plead for my clients
more gracefully and effectually than any efforts of mine,
even though I were inspired for the occasion, as I would
I were, with a power of utterance
"Great and commanding as the breath of kings,
Sweet as the poet's numbets, and prevailing
As soft persuasion."—(Cheers.)
Looking to the means of upholding and invigorating this
valuable institution, I hail the establishment of a General
Theatrical Fund, open alike to the members of every
theatre and the professor of every branch of this moat
complicated art, as a powerful auxiliary, a steady prop,
a sotid buttress of support, giving to and deriving from
the parent edifice an increase of strength and power, ele-
vating both art and artist in the scale of respectability,
and affording to the latter a haven of refuge when age
and infirmities admonish him that
Time steals on, and higher duties crave
Some space between the theatre and the grave."
—(Tremendous cheering.) The present position of
the two great houses of Drurydane and Covent-
garden, those splendid structures so long and fondly
designated as the legitimate temples of Shakspere
and the British drama, so associated with all that
is grand and classical, and ennohleriniuggsheti:tosttothwneahmichehesartia;
perverted—the longinterminable
eclipse apparently
aressho e shed
ictsonannnecatlesd—the
strange
gb
despondency iu
engender feelings ot regret which they are obscured—these
athtedsecircumstances
;.e—b(yCheers.) In the regret I
icordially participate;
bnjeci;ti:l am not among the despondent.—(Hear, bear.)
The prospects of the drama may be darkened by a pass-
ing aloud, but I cannot feel they are extinguished, even
though the great houses should never again resume their
ancient ascendancy. The tide of fashion, ever varying in
its caprices, may run too strongly in favour of the exotic
ballet, the gorgeous spectacle, or the foreign operas, but
Shekspere mzintaitis his hold on the hearts of his
inseparably
lustre
countrymen, arid will stand pre-eminent on his time-
honoured pedestal as long as truth and nature hold their
sway, and men can feel the power of language
and the grace of action.—(Loud and protracted cheers.)
I hope and think that good days are in
stoic for us, and us the number of actors will increase
aith the increasing prosperity of the stage, so does the
necessity and advantage of a well-established and libe-
rally-endowed Generel Theatrical Fund impress itself
forcibly on our convictions. I trust this day we may
make a giant step in advance of our object. The report
of our proceedings, the augmentation of the invested
eroperty, the amount of the collection here will give an
impulse to opinion without—draw to us the support of
straegere and the favour of the general public. I trust
by steady perseverance to see this comparatively private
iustitutiun expand into a national one.—(Cheers.) In
the long struggle of professional life, and more particu-
larly in the actors of life, distinction and independence
.11c achieved only by the furtunate few, while the labo•
rious but deserving many toil on in the ranks, earning
with difficulty a subsistence for the present, and utterly
unable to lay by any provision for the future.—(Bear,)
intellectualsAommoenmgethiaenchol)puli ar
jte.
avocationss
B r
jolt;
irasn t has
an ad tct aacpht
captivating
ttoinig
as the actor's triumphs may t
appear, they are es perish-
ing as the applause by which they are accompanied. The
poet, the painter, the sculptor leave behind them lasting
Pc
memorials of the creative genius in the living page, the
;lowing canvass, and endt.ring marble; the actor's
, brightest effort dies with himself, or survives but in the
fading records of imperfect tradition.—(Renewed cheers.)
I By ceaseless study and long experience only can he

THE SUN,

appeal to them confidently, as the best judges, whether
their sex his ever had a gentler, a getter, or a truer
exponent than the lady of whom I speak?—(Loud
cheers.) Perhaps, gentlemen, I may appeal to them
even to say whether her sitting among us at this time is
not the crowning grace of our festivities?—(Cheers.)
In common, gentlemen, both with the chairman and the
secretary, I regret very much to miss at this board to-
day the pleasant and " familiar face" of our treasurer.
I regret it selfishly enough for our sakes, for I can guess
that many other faces are presenting a merry reflex to his
own delightful cheerfulness and mirth at this moment.—
(Cheers.) But, as a less important officer of this institu-
tion, it is a pleasure to me to confirm all that you have
heard of its prosperity, and to bear admiring testimony
to the patience and perseverance with which its members
contribute, many of them from very scanty resources,
those prudential sums which are to be the provision for
their old age, and to exult, as I annually do, in the refu-
tation thus offered to the sweeping charge which has
been so thoughtlessly and unthinkingly made of the ge-
neral improvidence of the members of the theatrical pro-
fession. I always consider when I hear that objection
taken, that to you who are born to the possession ofa silver
spoon—(Laughter)—it may not be very difficult to apply
yourselves to the keeping it polished on your sideboard.
—(Laughter.) But if you are born to the possession of
a wooden ladle instead—(Laughter)—the transmuting it
into an article of plate is a very, very difficult process
indeed in this country.—(Laughter and cheers.) So
much the more should we remember that it is so at a
time of general trouble and distress.
" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown"

hope to master the difficulties of his art; and when his
mental faculties have obtained their full meridian, his
physical powers are already on the decline, and warn
him that he can no longer execute his own conceptions;
he must leave the field to younger candidates, and retire
into solitute and oblivion—too often with but little to
console him in the memory of the past, no comfort in
the privations of the present, and scarcely a nit, of hope
from the darkness of the future.—(Cheers.) The great
moralist, Dr. Johnson, tells us, and justly, that " Youth
is the season of enjoyment ; the utmost that
age can hops for is ease." Aye, gentlemen,
but let us contemplate age without ease—age with its
natural accompaniments of disease and pain and
decaying faculties—age without the friendly hand to
smooth the pillow and the consoling voice to assuage
the anguish—age bowed down by penury and indigence,
with cultivated mind, polished manners, and habits of
refinement, linked to squalid beggary, racked by the
agonizing doubt that the scanty pittance of to-day may
cease to be forthcoming on the morrow—(Hear, hear)—
aye, that the dismaetled garret may not yet be ex-
changed for the still more dreaded poorhouse—this,
though a harrowing picture, is no creation of the fancy,
but a stern reality too often exemplified in the fate of
the superannuated actor, whose only refuge from such
complicated misery is a nameless grave.—(Cheers.)
Let us endeavour to reverse the gloomy picture; be it
our task to step in between our aged brethren and their
prostrate helplessness; to bring back hope to the de-
spairing heart, to substitute contentment for repining
and competence for destitution; to effect this, let us press
forward the growth of this fund with active zeal and
untiring energy; let us set an example of liberality
in our own contributions to foster and enkindle libe-
rality in others.—(Lond cheers.) In such a cause the
smallest offering has its full weight and value; indivi-
dual efforts, though weak in themselves, produce collec-
tive strength, and as the union of labour speedily rears
a stately edifice, so the combination of many small
sums soon amasses a mighty capital. This institutionmay
yet be considered in its infancy, and already there are
five annuitants supported by its resources and secured
Irrom want; like the disbanded soldier on his pension,
th ey rest from toil in humble but honourable retirement.
--(Cheers.) There are many more hands extended to
us in supplication, many other voices sounding plain-
tively in our ears—(Hear, hear)—they have powerful
claims, and we are bound to entertain them. Whatever
may be the professional jealousies of actors (and from
what profession or what pursuit in life are such jealousies
excluded?) they are ever found ready to assist their
poorer brethren. Those who are now dependent, while
they had means, and the appeal was made, gave cheer-
fully; in their own hour of need let us remember this
and cheerfully requite them. We cannot, it is true,
bring back the manly vigour, or restore the faded loveli-
ness—we cannot check the unspairing scythe of time—
call up again the form that delighted the eye, the voice
that charmed the ear, or the inspiring energy that com-
manded the applause—(Cheers)—but we can make glad
the spirits that are now depressed in sorrow—we can
repay them something for the many hours of recreation
that soften the corroding cares of life—we can give peace
and calm repose where-there is doubt, and gloom, and
poverty—we can cause the flush of joy to mantle once
again on the pale cheek from which it appeared to be
for ever banished. Above all, let us remember that in
thus establishing an asylum for the worn out members
of the stage we advance the importance of the stage
itself ; and while we advocate the purest doctrine of
Christrian charity we give new strength and value to the
noble science we study to illustrate, and which the poet
of hope thus beautifully eulogises, in reference to one of
its most stately ornaments:--
"His was the spell o'er hearts
Which only Acting lends,
The youngest of the sister Arts,
Where all their beauty blends;
For ill can Poetry express
Full many a tone of thought sublime,
And Painting, mute and motionless,
Steals but a glance of time.
Bat by the mighty actor brought
Illusion's perfect triumphs come,—
Verse ceases to be airy thought,
And Sculpture to be dumb."
(Great and prolonged cheers.) I now, gentlemen, con-
clude with requesting you to drink "The health of the
Secretary, Mr. Cullenford," to whom the institution is
so much indebted; together with " Prosperity and rapid
success to the General Theatrical Fund."—The Hon.
Gentleman resumed his seat amid the enthusiastic ac-
clamations of the company.
Song by Miss Ransford.
Mr. CtiLLENFORD, in responding to the toast, said he
could not but feel most deeply the absence of Mr. Buck-
stone, to whom they hid been accustomed to listen with
so much pleasure on former occasions, and who would
have returned thanks for the toast in much more elo-
quent terms than be (Mr. Cullenford) could hope to do.
It was impossible for Mr. Buckstone to be present that
evening; it was utterly impossible that Mr. Webster
could so alter his arrangements as to permit of his at-
tending the festival; but he had to thank that gentleman
for allowing so many of his colleagues and himself to
be present. It was not the only favour they had been
in the habit of receiving from Mr. Webster. From the
first institution of the association up to the present
time he had ever been ready to assist them in a
pecuniary point of view, and in personally identifying
himself with them; and he (Mr. Cullenford) was proud
to have it in his power to acknowledge his kindness.—
(Cheers.) It was fortunate for him (Mr. Cullenford),
and perhaps more so for them, that his duty might, on
that occasion, be compressed into a very few words ; it
was merely to give a statement of the figures and facts
in their financial account. He had placed before them a
balance-sheet, which would show every item both of re-
ceipt and expenditure for the last year, and therefore he
need not trouble them with reading those separate
figures. lie might, however, remark that there were
five annuitants on the feeds of the association; they
had other charges specifically mentioned under proper
heads; and after being enabled to do that, he
was happy to say the result of, the year
just passed had been, after having met every
charge, and every demand, they had been enabled to
increase the fund by 5431.—(Cheers.) He trusted that
would be as gratifying to them to hear as it had been
for himself and his colleagues to experience. Their
honoured Chairman had, in terms that he (Mr. Cullen-
ford) would scarcely trust himself to characterise, pleaded
before them the case of the aged, helpless, and infirm
members of the profession. Ho would not for one
moment suffer any sentiment of his to have the chance
of marring the effect that he was sure the eloquence of
the chairman had produced.--(Cheers.) He had related
their wants and their woes, in terms so beautiful and
touching that he (Mr. Cullenford) would not trust him-
self to add one word to them ; but, for himself, he
thanked them cordially for the honour they had con
ferred upon him, and upon the institution since its com-
mencement. No exertions should be wanting on the part
of himself or his colleagues to merit a continuance of
their favour, and they would be always ready to be at
their post, and to render a clear statement of their gains
and losses. He most respectfully and gratefully
thanked them for the honour they had conferred upon
the institution.—(Cheers.)
Midame Duleken (solo on the piano)—" The Carnival
de Venice."—(Encored.)
The CHAlRMAN—Gentlemen, the next toast is one
almost equally important and immediately connected
with the last—" The Trustees of the Fund."—(Cheers.)
I see at once, I shall be anticipated by the gene-
ral feeling of the company in the namo of the dis-
tinguished gentleman, one of the trustees now
present—(Cheers)—a name which so naturally associates
itself wuh this toast—l mean Mr. Charles Dickens.—
(Loud cheers.) Any attempt on my part to pass an
eulogium on the merits of a writer so well known and
so universally admirei as Mr. Dickens would be
presumptuous and idle as "a twice told tale."—
(Loud cheers.) While his name is on our lips, the
many children of his rich and varied fancy rise up in
review before us. His vivid creations, always true to
nature, and ever tending to improve, while they amuse
—(Cheers)—untainted by
.mistaken philosophy or
morbid discontent, reconciling every condition of life to
the wise decrees of Providence—(Cheers)—and teaching
us all to be both better and wiser, if we choose to profit by
lessons so agreeably conveyed the sparkling wit,
blended with the natural pathos, affecting the heart by
turns with " wholesome mirth and salutary woe." All
these beautiful characteristics of this great and accom-
plished writer are acknowledged by the world at large
and while they endear to us the man, have
stamped his works with the seal of immortality.—(Loud
cheers.) But it may not be so generally known that as a
trustee he has laid this fund ender heavy obligations.
From its earliest establishment to this present hour his
active exertions have tended to advance the interests of
this institution; and I believe I am speaking the senti-
ments of the committee at large, when I say to him
is due much of the present prosperous condition and the
flattering hopes by which this institution is encou•
raged.—(Cheers.) Gentlemen, I request a bumper to
" The Health of the Trustees and Mr. Charles Dickens."
—(Great cheering.)
Drank by the company standing, with three times three.

indeed, in days when crowns so many, of gold, brass,
and copper— (Laugh ter)—are tumbling from the heads of
the wearers; but the head that wears a mimic crown,
the hand that grasps a mimic sceptre, fares at such a
season far worse, for those peaceful and graceful arts of
life go down, and the slighter monuments of social ex-
istence are the first things crushed.—(Cheers.) There-
fore, for example, if the King of Sardinia cannot get
into trouble without involving the king of Mr. Vincent
Cremmell's company—(Laughter)—if sovereigns and
armies cannot make war without affecting the peaceful
inhabitants in their theatre royal at Little Pedlington—
(Laughter)—so much the more have we reason to rejoice
in the continued prosperity of this institution—so much
the more have we reason to rejoice over its future pro-
spects. Terrible, like the veritable sea-serpent—
(Laughter)—according to Captain M‘Qhme, we are
round tallying in all respects ; it is apparently bent on a
very determined object—(Laughter)—with its head
very considerably above water—(Renewed laughter)
—and drawing behind it a long train of use•
ful circumstances.—(Roars of laughter.) One other
word on the hopes and thereby the consequences of ex-
tending the usefulness of this establishment, and I have
done. When the Chairman made his first most admir-
able speech, I confess I had some doubts whether I could
agree with him, but I was quite sure if we did not agree
we should agree to differ—(Laughter)—but when he
made that other admirable speech with reference to the
fund, I was happy to find that we were agreed—l mean
with respect to the restoration of the drama. I think it
next to impossible but that that must come to pass, be-
cause the drama is founded on the eternal principles
of human nature. I say it respectfully, that I don't
think it within the power of any potentate on earth,
however virtuous, however magnificent, however strong,
either to raise the drama up or to pull the drama down.
—(Loud cheers.) In this room, in Windsor Castle,
in an African hut, in a North-American wigwam,
there is the same inborn delight and interest
in the living representation of the actions, passions, joys,
and sorrows of mankind.—(Tremendous cheering.) In
England, of all countries in the world, this interest is
glorified and exalted by the loftiest flights of human
vision, and the proudest monuments of human wit. The
drama I hold to be imperishable. Reverses it may suf-
fer from many causes; but
" Malice domestic, foreign levy,"

nothing, to my thinking, can root it out.—(Loud and re-
iterated cheers.)
Major- General Sir Jour/ BURGOYNE said he felt the
greatest satisfaction and delight to do honour to a gen-
tleman whom he held in the highest esteem and
regard. In bringing before the favourable notice of
such an assembly as that the merits of another
individual it required ordinarily some ingenuity to make
out his case. That was a difficulty which he did not
labour under in proposing the health of their respected
and highly gifted Chairman.—(Cheers) He felt that
the bare mention of his name was sufficient to
elicit an enthusiastic response from that assembly.
After following Mr. Charles Dickens, he (Sir John
Burgoyne) felt himself very much in the position of a
celebrated orator known to fame, who once stood up in the
House of Commons, after listening to one of Mr. Burke's

famous orations, and gave vent to his feelings in the words,
" I say ditto to Mr. Burke."—(Laughter.) He (Sir
John Burgoyne) could only on this occasion emulate that
flight of eloquence, and exclaim—" I say ditto to Mr.
Charles Dickens." He looked on Mr. Charles Kean as
an honoured descendant of the old school. He honoured

the profession of which Mr. Kean was a member,
and he was happy to see that the love of that pro-
fession continued an full force in a member of his
(Sir J. Burgoyne's) own family. He did not attribute
Mr. Kean's success to the tact of inspiration; le had no
doubt Mr. Kan himself would confess that it had only
been attained by much study and by much perse-
verance. His dramatic representations at Windsor Castle
had established his character in a way which would
never be effaced. The Gallant General, who was almost
wholly inaudible in the locality assigned to the reporters,
concluded by proposing " Mr. Charles Kean, and health
and happiness to hire."—(Cheers.)
Drunk with three times three.
The CHAIRMAN, in responding to the toast, said—l

am completely at a loss, and kn-ow nut what to say in
return for the high personal honour you have just con-
ferred upon me. I seek in vaia for words adequate to
express my sense of the overwhelming kindness with
which my health has been. received.—(Cheers.) Shak-
spere, who understood and described every emotion of
our nature, under every possible circumstance, says—
" Silence is the perfectest herald of joy—they are little
happy who can say how much."—(Cheers.) It is thus
with me at the present moment. I feel deeply what
I cannot utter—in simple, unadorned phrase, I thank
you with truest sincerity ; and if I say less than
the occasion appears to require, I must entreat you not
to estimate the warmth of my gratitude by the brevity
of my reply. There are matters of more import yet
before us. lam anxious, therefore, to spare your time,
and to pass at once from the ungracious subject of self
to one of far superior general interest. I have now to
propose—" The National Drama of our Country—
(Loud cheers)—that polished amusement which poetry,
painting, and music have vied to adorn, and to whose
service genius has devoted her most sublime efforts.'
—(Cries of'• Hear, hear," and loud cheers.) With that
toast, I beg to propose Mr., Webster, the lessee
and manager of the Haymarket Theatre—(Cheers)—
a gentleman whose long exertions and high position
have entitled him to be considered one of the most legiti•
mate supporters of the British stage—whose strict in-
tegrity and honourable punctuality in alt matters of '
business—(Hear, hear)—have made his single word as
current as his bond, and whose name on the occasion of
the present toast naturally presents itself in graceful and
appropriate connexion.—(Cheers.) Gentlemen, I request
an overflowing bumper to "Our National Drama and
Mr. Webster."—(Cheers.)
Drunk with honours.

Mr. WEBSTER, in rising to respond to the toast, was
received with cheering. Ile said—Gentlemen, the
nattering compliment which Mr. Charles Kean has paid
me in associating my name with the national drama, and
the warm manner in which you have respoaried
to the toast of prosperity to that drama, fill
ms with honest pride and heartfelt pleasure
that my labours during so many years, in catering for
your amusement, are so kindly and highly appreciated.
—(Cheers.) Such a compliment ought to be a strong
incentive to every member of our profession, and ought
to prove to him that industry, perseverance,
a true application to his art, and a provident
care of his means at the commencement
of his career, may insure to him happiness and com-
fort in his future life.—(Cheers.) When I see around
me so many men of genius and talent, friends of our
drama, generously lending a helping hand to-
-" the poor player
Who struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more,"
it is a proof how much the drama is respected, and that
actors have. only to respect their art themselves
to take their stand on a level with any art or profession
in the land.—(Cheers.) Gentlemen, I feel personally
grateful to every gentleman present for the high compli-
ment be has thus paid my profession. I can bear my
testimony, with that of Mr. Charles Kean, to the priva-
tions which, many of the aged and infirm members of our
profession suffer, and to the inability, in very many
cases, of many others to earn more than can support
them from day to day. Charity cannot be better be-
stowed than on those who live to please, and
who must, through your bounty, be gratefully
pleased to live.—(Loud cheers.) The charitable in-
stitutions of this country, and its metropolis, excite
the astonishment and admiration of every foreigner who
visits our shores. At the same time that charity hoists
the flag of distress, there are thousands ever ready to
lend her assistance.—(Cheers.) It seems the characte-
teristic of our nation, not to consider how good may be
done, but to do it. Truly it is something out of the
common order of nature to be born a subject of her Ma-
jesty the Queen.—(Cheers.)
The CHAlRMAN—Gentlemen, the toast I have next to
propose follows the last one in close relationship. Indeed
they are both as logically and inseparably connected as
cause and effect.• We have drunk oar national drama.
It would be an unpardonable omission were we not to
pay the same compliment to our living dramatists.—
(Cheers.) Among the list there are distinguished names
and productions of sterling merit, which will stand the
test of time, and would have done honour to the
proudest era of dramatic literature. I will only
mention one recent play of great excellence, and I do so
with peculiar feelings, for I am happy to acknowledge how
deeply indebted Mrs. Kean and myself are to the author of
the Wife's Secret, whom I have much pleasure in now
seeing near me. jWe shall always remember the brilliant
success that accompanied the production of his play as
among the most agreeable episodes of our professional
career. I trust the public will be gratified with many
more of equal merit from the peu of the same ac-
complished writer. I have much pleasure in proposing,
with our living dramatists, " The health of Mr. Lovell,
the author of the Wffe's Secret."—(Cheers.)
Mr. LOVELL, in responding to the compliment, said he
had not anticipated, when he entered that room, the ex-
traordinary nod unexpected honour which had
been conferred upon him. Coming from an assembly
like that which he saw arouni him, it had
really overwhelmed him, and he was wholly
unprepared to render a suitable acknowledgment
of their kindness. In fact, his business was rather to

Mr. CIIMILES DlcKziis, in rising to respond to the
toast, was welcomed with a burst of enthusiastic accla-
mation. He said— Gentlemen, I hope that you will not
object to a trustee with a cold, however naturally you
might object to a cold trustee.—(Laughter.) I beg, in
behalf of my absent colleagues, to return you their
thanks for the honour you have done them, and on my
own behalf to acknowledge the honour you have ren-
dered me. I tun well assured that I express the feelings
of my absent friends, no leas than my own, when I con-
gratulate the General Theatrical Fund on the brilliant
s sembly by which I am surrounded, and on its being
resided over by a gentleman who has a triple claim on
i is consideration and respect.—(Cheers.) I do not
mean to say, gentlemen, with good Mrs. Malaprop,
that our chairman is like Cerberus, three gen-
tlemen at once—(Laughter)—but I think I give
utterance to a statement that will meet
with the general response of this company
when I hail him as gracefully seated in his right place
to-night, not only in consideration of his own talents and
of his public position, but in memory the genius of his
immortal father.—(Loud cheers)—and in consideration
of the many tender and sweet remembrances which all
England must associate with his accomplished wife.—
(Tremendous cheers.) Gentlemen, if like some of those
trustees, on an infinitely larger scale—(Laughter)—
some of those legislative trustees who occasionally re-
fresh us with their odd vagaries elsewhere,—if, like
one of thoss, I might espy " strangers present"—(cast-
ing hts eyes to the ladies' gallery)—(Laughter)—though
Heaven forbid that such sharpness of my
sight should be attended with the disastrous House of
Commons' consequences, and by the withdrawal of the
fair ornaments of our society; but if, with the pro-
verbial clearness of vision of our Irish Members—
(Lsughter)—l might espy " strangers present,' I would

LONDON, WEDNESDAY EVENING, MAY 23, 180).