The Sun.
London, England, 1859-04-20 00:00:00

'OYAL GEN.

delights of social life, that he might the more inti-
mately commune with distant minds and distant
ages. Well may the world cherish his renown, for
it has been purchased not by deeds of violence and
blood, but by the diligent dispensation of pleasure.
Well may posterity be grateful to his m: mory, for
he has left it an inheritance, not of e.,pty names
and sounding actions, but whole treasur •of wisdom,
bright gems of thought, and golden veins of lan-
guage. With what pleasure and delight do we
not point out in our streets the mighty spirits of
the literary world. The historians, the philosophers
whose works we have pondered over and studied
as our guides and preceptors, and still more
those elegant and fanciful intellects whose lively
imaginations have charmed our hours of leisure,
the ,author of " Pelham," the author of " Vanity
Fair," the popular, humanising, graphic, comic,
tragic, dramatic, heart-stirring, heart-soothing
author of the " Pickwick Papers "—(applause)—
and the many other delightful writers of our day;
but much as we love and respect them, and pleased
as we are. to greet them as they pass, with thanks
in our hearts and pleasure in our countenances,
there is not that same tickling about the short ribs
—that indulgent chuckle, like to convivial acquaint-
anceship, around that is felt towards the favourite
actor. It would be a liberty to laugh in the face of
the author of " Eugene Aram," however his most
comic ere ation might suggest itself ; even the re-
collection of Sam Weller would not justify us in
grinning at the author of poor " Little Nelly," and
as to the historian and the philosopher, we scarcely
dare walik on the same pavement with them. But
how has 'e you found yourselves greeting your favou-
rite actor ? More like a spoiled child than as a
stranger. You never spoke to him in your lives,
and know. nothing of him off the boards, but you
find yourselves talking of him as if he were your
personal friend. " There goes little Bob Keeley !"
and forge !ding the disagreeable business on which
you were hastening to Chancery-lane, you linger
for a mon lent to stare at his funny little back when
he has ps issed. You talk of Ben Webster and Little
Bucky as though they were relations more than
mere stag re-players. Of what other class of the com-
munity dare you speak with the same familiarity ?
With alit your admiration for the works of Sir E.
Bulwer Lytton, would you venture to speak affec-
tionately of him as "Neddy Bulwer ?" (Laughter.)
Would you talk of " Charley Dickens ?" or " Billy
Thackera.y ?" You would not dream of such a thing;
while as to the other and graver members of society
such audacity would be out of the question. Who
would be bold enough while expressing his appre•
ciation of the great learning of the Lord Chief Jus-
tice,
to call him " Johnny Campbell ?" or to desig-
nate the highly valued Chief Baron as " Freddy
Pollock ?" (Laughter.) I may safely say, no one. I
grant that there are and have been many among
the theatrical profession whom it would be equally
impossible to address with levity. I doubt, for
instance, whether the most intimate friend
of the grand John Kemble would have ventured
even in convivial moments to address him as
" Jacky," and I suspect that the nieces of the dig-
nified Sarah Siddons would have hesitated before
they addressed her even on a racecourse as " Aunt
Sally." (Laughter.) But these are the exceptions
to the rule, and the Jacks, Toms, Harrys, and
Freds are as common as household words. For my
own part I confess I feel actually flattered when I
hear, as I have heard, a greengrocer's boy or a cab-
man exclaim with a broad grin, " There goes Charley
Mathews." (Laughter.) Let the actor hug this
sign of kind regard to his bosom. Let him bask in
the sunshine of the present, and appreciate the
cordiality of his contemporaries. It is one of the
strongest holds he has upon their sympathy, and,
unlike the author, he has nothing to hope from
posterity. It is only to the present he must look,
for, alas ! his popularity is but of a day. Now, how
is this sympathetic feeling engendered ? It is not
because the favourite actor is more beloved than
the favourite author, but, I take it, there is a
genuine lasting feeling of gratitude existing to-
wards those who supply a harmless recreation,
mixed with gratification to the mind and to the
senses, without exacting effort of any kind to
secure its full enjoyment. There are times when,
from physical or mental disinclination to exertion,
you would gladly go out of yourselves, and leave
to others the task of amusing you ; times when you
cannot fix your attention to the most interesting
book, for there is always a certain call upon the
imagination to embody and give reality to descrip-
tions, however vividly presented by the pen. Per-
haps no two persons ever formed the same concep-
tion of a Caliban, a Falstaff, or a Meg Merrilies,
from the ideas conveyed to them by the same
words. Then pencil and chisel fail equally to
impart a perfect image to the mind. Can a picture
or a statue convey without great mental aid from
the spectator the least notion of the words that
would flow. from the beings they represent ? No.
It was the actor's province alone to present at once
to the eye, the ear, and the imagination, without
exertion of any kind on the part of the
audience, the full embodiment of the charac-
ter represented; to give the true interpretation
of the poet's creation ; and, when surrounded
by all the aids of appropriate scenery and correct
costume, to stamp upon it the impress of reality. It
is this that is so delightful to the care-worn mind,
and which leaves so vivid an impression behind.
(Applause.) If, then, I have misstated or misre-
presented the relative positions of the actor and the
public, I think I have a strong case to go before a
jury with. I think, gentlemen, I have got you in a
corner, and that you will find yourselves on the
horns of a dilemma. Either you deny the truth of
the sketches I have given, and reject the actor's
claim on your affection (which you can hardly do
consistently with your numerous attendance here
to-day), or you admit the faithfulness of my por-
traits, and then I think I have you fast—l have
you all, as Puff says, "at a dead lock," and you
cannot escape me. So, having, as I hope, softened
Tour hearts and awakened your sympathies, I shall
now proceed to strike while the iron's hot. Now,
beware, gentlemen, I warn you—take care of your
pockets, for I am going to turn them inside out, if
I can. I know they are full : you are not situated
like an acquaintance of mine, who, on being asked
by a friend to lend him a guinea, answered briskly,
" With pleasure," but suddenly added, " dear me,
how unfortunate, I've only one lending sovereign,
and it is out." You have your giving sovereigns in
your pockets, plenty of them, and I boldly assert
that now is the moment to invest them both to the
fund's advantage and your own, for you will place
yourselves thereby in the agreeable position I have
described as belonging peculiarly to the actor, and
not only enhance your own pleasure in meeting
him, but enable him to point to you in return, with
heart felt gratitude and pleasure, as the genorous
friend; who have assisted him in his praiseworthy
works cif'
prudence and thrift—in his honest endea-
vour to secure for himself a small independence in
the deck ine of his days, and helped him to that pro-
vision fo a. his old age which, unassisted, he would
with all his efforts have been unable to attain. Give
him you: r friendly arms as he toddles down the hill,
throw a. flower in his path, and soothe the last days
of a hart nless life expended in your service. Emu-
late the noble example set you by your excellent, ge-
nerous.-1 tearted Queen, secure for yourselves a share
of the :applause you have bestowed upon the an-
nounce merit of her munificent contribution—come
liberall y to the relief of the poor actor, and, revers-
ing the old words of Shakspeare—give to him that
which not impoverisheth you, but makes him rich
indeed. (Applause.) The chairman concluded by
associating with the toast the name of his friend,
Mr. Btu; kstone. (Applause.)
Mr. Bi "JeKSTONE, on rising to return thanks, was
very war mlv received. He said—Gentlemen, am
exceeding •ly happy to tell you it is my opinion that
we haves 11 of us cause for congratulation this even-
ing. The members of the fund, the patrons of the
fund, our ;nests, indeed all present and interested in
its prospe aitv have every reason to-night to be
pleased w ith everything and everybody. (Hear.)
In the firs t place, we have every reason to be pleased
with our c thairman, and every reason to congratu-