The Sun.
London, England, 1856-03-18 00:00:00

ii 0 3.7.4.

The annual dinner of this admirable assoeiation took
place yesterday, at the London Tavern, when there wad
very full attendance. The Right on. Lord Tenter-
den presided ; and amongst those present were Viscount
Raysiham, Messrs. C. Dickens, C. Lemon, RaWebster,
C. Mathews, H. Ca•lbbotsorr, Captain Chappell, Me'ssre.
A. Bell, A. Wigan; T. Creswick, T. P. Cooke, E. T.
Smith, W. R. Sams, IX Roberts, Dr. Hasti,ngs, Mr, W 2
11.• Wills, Mi. C. Manby, Dr. Forbes Winslow, &c.
The dinner was placed upon the table in Messrs.
Bathe and Co.'s best style, the wines being excellent.
The usual loyal toasts having been disposed of, •
The noble CHAIRMAN gave " Prosperity to the Royal
General Theatrical Fund." He observed that up.to a
certain period there was no doubt that the English drama
had advanced as,the people bad progressed in civilisa-
tion, and it probably reached its greatest eminence in the
reign of queen Elizabeth, when under royal patronage it•
flourished apace: But darker days caine,a,nd during the
gloomy sway of the Puritans laws were passed against
the professors of the drama, more disgraceful, indeed, to
those who made them than to those against wham they
were framed, but still of the most discouraging character..
It had, been said by many who took a superficial view ef
the drama that at the period to which he had first
alluded it was characterised by coarseness. But these
fine gentlemen—those extra-purists, if he might use the
term, betrayed not only a want of knowledge of history,
but ignorance of the manner of the times which they
professed to criticise, fqr they forget that the art of the
player or the author was to depict the foibles of the age;
and the disgrace, if any, was that of their ancestors,
who bad been guilty of the licentiousness which had
baesareprasentethatsel coadetnesed-erp-on"th a boards. In-
deed; the Lord. Fuppingtons were confined to no Age or
clime ; they abounded equally in the old time as in the
present, and Van brugh or Congreve drew their fine ladies
and gentlemen irom real life, as did the most distin-
guished and successful of ' our own modern dramatic
writer.-. (Hear.) No class of men were more subject to
privation than dramatists ; and of later days, he Was glad
to say, philanthropy, which, in this happy land, was
confined to no particular class, had embraced the poor
profession of an actor, and the glorious' institution, the
anniversary of which they were this day assembled to
commemorate, reminded its humblest and most unho-
poured votary that when an arduous life had been spent
in the instruction and amusement of the public, that
public would not suffer the worn-out and indigent actor
to sink into destitution and misery. (Cheers.) It was
not every one who could be a Siddons or a Kemble ;
and it was for those who, although they might possess
genius, talent, and industry, were still unable to ever-
come tae difficulties inherent to their position as mem-
bers of an extended body, that this fund was necessary.
It happened to a few dramatists that, even after an ac-
cident, they had been enabled to obtain the patronage of
the public. The elder Mathews had achieved that suc-
cess, but whoever heard of a lame harlequin, or a crip-
pled clown who had been equally successful ? To such
this institution was of the most essential consequence.
In the decline of life it relieved their necessities, and ena-
bled them to pass the remainder of their days in compa-
rative rest and quietness. And was it not right that
they should ? (Hear.) Sir Walter Scott, presiding on a
similar occasion to the present, had observed, with a
pathos mosaaffecting, Will you allow Jack Falstaff—
honest Jack Falstaff—to go to bed without his cup of
sack ; or the poor actor to retire to his crib with bones
more marrowless than those of Banque ?" (Cheers.) He
~(the noble chairman) was indeed glad that in these mo-
dern times the destitute members of a prbtes:sion, 'once
honoured and respected, could say like Prospero, "chat
breath of yours has filled' my sail." (The toast was
drunk with applause.)
Mr. BIICKSTONE having been leudly called for rose to
return thanks. He spoke as follows :—My lord and
gentlemen, in return for the enthusiastic manner with
which you have received what you are always pleased
to consider the toast of the evening —4r' Success to the
General Theatrical Fund"—coupled with my name, as
the treasurer, I-am happy to say that my reply to that
toast will consist 'of scarcely anything but a continuous
account of our prosperity and usefulness ; while our first
cause for gratification must be in having secured so ex-
cellent a chairman as the nobleman'new presiding over
us. The directors of the farad are exceedingly grateful
to him for having undertaken the office, at what we the-
matically call " a very short notice,"..but I am convinced
the ability with which be will perform his duties will
not require him fo ask "for your usual kind indul-
gence." In obtaining a president for those occasions,
we have to encounter a difficulty which did not belong
to the festivals of Drury-lane and Covent-garden, where
it was the custema to have a Royal and perpetual chair-
man. The General Theatrical Fund, knowing the love
of the public for novelty and variety, think it best to
change the president every year ; consequently the mem-
bers are-annually asking each otheree" Wtfiriletti'be (Sur
chairman at the next dinner ?" And we always find
a great relief to our anxiety when we can meet with a
gentleman like Lord Tenterden, who cheerfully and
without hesitation accedes to our request ; while, as a
patron of the drama, a lover of the actor's art, and a
member and vice-president of the only dramatic club in
London—" The Garrick"—no one can better under-
stand our wants and wishes, or plead more eloquently
in behalf of them, than our noble chairman of this
evening. I have now, gentlemen, to proceed to tell you
of the condition of our fund. The details may be
rather dull, but still it is necessary you should be ac-
quainted wish them, and learn to what purposes your
generosity lite been applied. It is now well known
that the General Theatrical Fund receives as members
every performer, singer, dancer, pantomimist, and
prompter in the kingdom, whether they may be professiott
ally engaged either in town or country ; consequently
it cannot be a matter of surprise that the number of our
members now amounts to 149 ; that at this time we
have 11 annuitants receiving from 301. to 901. per
IIUTI3 ; and that the sum given last year to pay such an-
nuities was 2561. Fifty pounds also have been returned
to widows and orphans, and 201. applied to 'defray the
funeral expenses of deceased members. TliiiiiStou will
perceive, gentlemen, that our circle of help and useful-
ness is greatly enlarged, yvbile I am happy to tell you
that our means are increasing in proportion, for with
what we possess, added to the mtinitice.nt annual dona-
tion of 1001. just received from her moist gracious Ma-

jesty, and the estimated amount of your liberality this
evening—and that you will be liberal I am sure—we
calculate that to-morrow morning we shall be masters of
a capital closely approaching 10,0001. I must also in-
form you, gentlemen, that through the exertions of our
old friend and naval ally, Mr. T. P. Cooke, and after
many months passed in consulting legal authority re-
specting his trusteeship of a defunct fund, called "The
Coburg," the members of which are all as defunct as tire!
fund, after leaving in Mr. Cooke's hands the amount of
their subscriptions, he very naturally and honestly caqi
sidered that the best way to dispose of money to Well
there were no claimants was, not to put it into his oAni
pocket, but to give it to us. Therefore, after a conii.l4;
able period of delay, occasioned ty the required legal
proceedings, Mr. Cooke has handed to our funliAlle
handsome sum of 161/. It would have been mori; &ri-
flemen, but for law expenses. Still, to do justice to our
legal friend', it is but right I should state they only
charged us the costs out of pocket—a pleasing instance
of generosity in gentlemen who sometimes consider costs
as a more important matter, and more necessary to be
paid at once, than any amount that it may be their
business to procure. Thus you will see, gentlemen, that
the fund you are met together to serve is in a prosper-
ous condition, and it is also graifying to know, that
whatever may he the state of the stage in the present
day, the position of the actor as regards his provision
when he can no longer follow hie pursuit is far
superior to what it was formerly ; for while the Gene-
ral Theatrical Fund takes under its care all performers,
that of Drury-lane provides for its own, and the princely
capital which belonged to what was once Covent-garden
Theatre enables those who were members of that departed
temple of the drama to live in comfort, and reflect upon
the bygone glories of their day, though the magnificent
edifice which was the scone of those dramatic glories is
now in ruins. In addition to thise'sources for the sup-
port of the retired actor, we hape ere long to name an-
other, from which he may not only claim an asylum, but
his children an education ; for surely the noble bequest of
the ancient actor, Edward Alleyne, and his beautiful col-
lege at Dulwich, ought not to be entirely closed against
the actor of the present day, especially as the funds of
that endownment are now increased far beyond what the
generous and genial founder ever dreamt of, while the
share that the actor asks of so much. wealth is so very
little. Should this be accomplished, gentlemen, the thanks
and gratitude of the whole profession are due to the ac-
tor who has stirred in the cause, and who has made it
his thought for years—my old friend and cue-fellow Ben-
jamin Webster. It is, therefore, pleasant to know, at this
particular time, when a sour intolerance still stands in
the way of making our Sundays a little more cheerful,
and more to be welcomed and enjoyed by the working
classes than they are at present—it is, indeed, refreshing
for us to see that such intolerance does net prevent the
good that is being done to the condition of the " poor
player." Though do not imagine this gloomy spirit would
sot prevent your charity in such a cause, if it could, and
point to Exeter Hall as the proper recipient of your
bounties—that saintly temple, which, when rented by
some friends of mine for the purpose of giving concerts,
the directors at the ball absolutely objected to the sing-
ing of that thoroughly English ballad, " Sally in our
Alley," unless the verse was omitted which runs thus:—
" Of all the days that's in the week
I dearly love but one day,
And that's the day which comes between
A Saturday and Monday."
They wouldn't have it ; of course not—they would not
allow the poor 'prentice on any account on that day "to
be drest all in his best to walk abroad with Sally."
Still it is to be hoped that a fanaticism, which some
people cannot understand is not religion, may hereafter
have as little to do with the honest and wholesome re-
creation of the people, as it can ever have to do with the
prosperity of this institution—a prosperity which is now
confirmed, and for which we have chiefly to thank our
warmest, .our oldest, and beat friend—Mr. Charles
Dickens. Never on any occasion has he deserted us—
never has be been absent from our eleven festivals, and
which festivals, without his happy piesence, would be
as the day without the sun. And now, gentlemen, I
leave the cause 01 the fund to your hearts, and especially