The Sun.
London, England, 1859-03-28 00:00:00

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SPA PER

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great scenic effect,JEl cane
actor and author existing withoutthis
of thought and purpose, which in realiqt y Must bie
the condition of great works. (Chet 1.1 s.) With
good writing and exponents, the Dram: s, properly,
administered, might with propriety be tea -*tried the
people's school, for plays imperceptibly co nvey in_
striation. and a knowledgo of many thing- 's which
it would be difficult to make eamprehensibl- e in the
ordinary way ; such as the inner and outer life of
all nations in all times—their customs, ms'.enters,
arts, laws, arms, honour, moral courage, intrel )id ity,
glory, vice rendered odious, and virtue comma tided.
Emulation make' the auditors choose the b, tter
• repeats to them those let ksons
which they nave seen exemplified. (Cheers.) I What
can philosophy teach so forcibly as this vividl3 r ap-
pealing to every sense. Perhaps one of the . most
gratifying events of my life has been associ. s.ted
with the formation of the Royal Dramatic:Colleg
(loud cheers)—of which I hope to see before m any
weeks the foundation-stone laid. It has gr own
out of the actors's wealthy charity, God's gi ft at
Dulwich, where I was denied a cornet for .the
poor player, or a crumb from the rich t: ible
which the actor's means supplied. (Loud the e rs.)
This new institution, gentlemen, will be one o f the
noblest works of this charitable country—( h ear,
hear)—and with her Most Gracious Majr 3t(ty's
ready and liberal patronage, must succeed. (Cl- Leers.)
We hope and we trust we shall live to se e this
building grow and flourish, not only upon ti le land
that will be given to us, but in the hearts 'of the
people who estimate the Drama as it ougb .t to be
estimated. Our funds are flourishing ;th .e lauds
that are offered are of the best ; and to sl low our
integrity of purpose, the books of the Cc 'liege are
open to all at all times. Each subscribe er's name
is therein enrolled for the inspection of friends or
enemies, if any such could be found. fy last act,
which has been the great desire of my ) .ife, and for
which I have studied more than t. nifty years,
is accomplished in the building o,f a theatre
which I think I may venters to. assert has
satisfied the requirements of tho day. (Cheers.)
No one can imagine the difficulties I have had.
to contend with in obtaining.; the land, for
every foot I was obliged to parohrise at what is
called a.v fancy prteot" int entions ,having
-been known or guessedl at. My 'first boyish piece
of architecture was building a till eatre, in which I
produced a melodrama, " The Mill Ler and his Men,"
painting all the scenery, making the mill, the boat,
the explosion, and the figures to II cork to my heart's
delight. This was a great diffi( rulty then, but I
overcame it, as I have this. The press, my always
steadfast friend, and the public, .have lauded the
efforts ; but among many of the congratulations
that have reached me, there is one. that has pleased
me, perhaps, more than any other, :for it shows that
my care for those whose means an:, not capable of
luxury have appreciated- my effort to provide some-
thing like it for them. With yc air permission I
will read the letter, suppressing tl e name :
" Sir,—Permit a poor clerk to congra t ulate you on being
the first manager who has ventured to make his patrons
comfortable. I visited your new theatr E, the other evening,
and though only the occupant, with my wife, of
the gallery stalls, was much gratified that even there
comfort and civility prevailot :E am sure such
a wholesome change from who; t the theatre..
going public have been subject to cannot fail to meet with
the success it deserves, and which I heartily wish you.
" Trusting you will pardon this intrusion," &c.
(Loud cheers.) Gentlemen, it is nry pride that you
approve of my work and its an rangements. To
those friends who started this conaplimentary fete
and to those who have so readily responded to the
call, I owe a deep debt of grateful r4cknowledgment.
The letters I have received from those compelled to
absent themselves are flattering beyond parallel.
In fact, I hardly knew who Benjamin Webster
was, or that he was so much cared for, until to-day.
I beg leave to express thankful obligations to the
Hon. Mr. Berkeley, for presiding on this occasion,
leaving the stern duties of the senate and its mysti-
fying acts—(a laugh)—to do honour to one whose
acts are of the mimic world. (Cheers.) I fear I
have too poorly expressed my high estimation of
this, to me, eventful occasion. "lam no orator,"
as Brutus is ; " I am poor even in thanks, but I
thank you." Quintillian says the heart is the foun-
tain of eloquence. This I beg leave to question,
for my heart is brimful of thanks, but I have not
words to express them. When I look around I
seem to see each hand held out to me in the reality
of friendship—(cheers)—and as the tyrant wished
that all human kind had but one head, that he
might exterminate it at a blow, and as the poet wished
that all womankind had but one mouth, that with
one kiss he might embrace them all, so I wish that
all your hands were joined in one, that I might
grasp it with my heart in miDe, and prove the
sincerity of my gratitude.
Wr. Webster resumed his seat amidst hearty
cheering, which continued for some minutes.

L

PRICE 4D. STAMPED, SD.

Song—" rules the palace," Miss Ransford.
Dr. GE ROBERT RowE said he was most
unexpecte. • called upon to exercise a privilege of
which he f• .. ighly proud. After the eloquent
address whic s sad been delivered he felt that any
observations of his own would fall heavily upon
their ears ; but, happily, the toast he had to pro-
pose required but little eulogium. It was one in
which their hearts were deeply entwined. After the
admirable manner in which the duties of the chair
had been performed little need be said to commend
the toast to their reception. They were aware of
the distinguished family to which the chairman be-
longed, and of the patronage they had long shed
over the drama. The name of Berkeley would long
be remembered, not only in the annals of the drama
but in the annals of freedom, and he was sure that
in their noble chairman "his life was gentle, and
the elements so mixed up in him that Nature might
stand and say aloud to all the world, This is a man !"
(Cheers.) With regard to their excellent friend Mr.
Webster, he was sure they all admired the zeal and
anxiety he displayed for the prosperity of the Dra-
matic College. Under his auspices, and the auspices
of those who were associated with him, there could
be little doubt of the success of the undertaking.
He would not trespass longer upon their attention,
but would ask them to join him most cordially in
drinking " The health of the Chairman," and would
conclude with the words of the Immortal Bard—
" May you live happily, May your years be longer
than I have time to tell. Beloved, and ever loving
may your rule be, and when old Time shall take you
to its ends may you and Goodness fill up one monu-
ment."

Song by Miss Rebecca Isaacs, "Norah Creina,"
which was encored, and followed by " Logie o'
B uchan ."

The CllAlRMAN—Gentlemen, it is my duty to
return you thanks for the very complimentary men-
tion of my name by Dr. Rowe. I can only say
that I am here to fulfil a very pleasurable duty. To
one who is fond of dramatic literature, to pay
respect and honour to the actor and the manager
who are worthy of the name, must be a labour of
love. That has been my labour to-night. The labour
has been a pleasure. I. can only say that he is now
worthily installed in one of the prettiest temples of
the Drama I think I ever saw—(cheers)—and it ap-
pears to me, from a cursory observation, that there
is a new audience springing up. (Hear.) It appears
to me, speaking with all reverence of the old audi-
ence at the Adelphi, that there is more soap and
water to be found there, and less of the bouquet de
corderoy. (Laughter.) It appears that there is a
better taste in the audience ; and although that
species of the drama which seems to have been so
much in fashion lately, but whiclil think most per-
nicious, that of burlesque, has held its hold on the
stage at the Anelphi so long, and at other theatres,
I hope, under the auspices of our friend, a better
style of drama and writing may take their place.
It may be very easy for actors to gain applause by
such classical allusions as that about "cutting their
sticks," and " going it like bricks," yet nevertheless,
I am sure there are writers enough in this country,
and I am sure I have proved to you that sitting on
my right hand there is a patron of writers—and I
do hope and trust that, With a better
audience, a
better style of writing may find its way into that
theatre. I have no doubt it will. I thank you most
sincerely for the honour you have done me in
drinking my health. I can only say, when my
feeble aid can be given to the best ends of the drama,
it shall never be wanting, (Cheers.)
Four-part song—" All among the barley."
Mr. p. CUNNINGHAM rose and said—After the
well considered and well-expressed eulogium upon
a great actor which has been expressed by your
chairman to-night, what am I to say about the toast
which is intrusted to me. lAfter the very eloquent
reply given by our friend, Mr. 'Webster, our guest
to-night, what am I to say ? Mr. Webster's
apology, if I may so call it, in the old sense of the
words by Colly Cibber, was a noble defence of his
own life and his own conduct. Gentlemen, I love
the stage: I was not brought up upon it, but I was
brought up on "orders" on it. My father was a
friend of Dr. Black, of the Morning chronicle,
and he gave me a great many orders, when I was
a boy, to go and see the great actors. Now, since
orders have been put down, and Government has
been very kind to me, I can afford to pay for my-
self, and I go to see them still. It is said that boyi; k
recollections of the stage cling to one ever afterwar&
and that you prefer the actors and actresses whom
you have seen in your youth to those whom you
have seen in your later life. Now, upon my word,
I have altered. I recollect many actors and ac-
tresses, and I must say that seeing them through
orders is one thing, but seeing them through money
is a deuced sight better. (Laughter.) I have been
looking over some books that I have of the stage,
and I have been thinking that our friend Mr.
Webster is a very remarkable man in the history
of the stage. He has done many. great works con-
nected with the maintenance and the revival of the

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