The Sun.
London, England, 1859-07-21 00:00:00

BANQUET TO MR. CHARLES SEAN.

A grand banquet was given last night, in St.
James's-hall, to Mr. Charles Kean, in admiration
of his genius and talents as an actor. It originated
with a number of his contemporaries at Eton Col-
lege, comprising many now either distinguished for
rank and wealth, or eminent as statesmen, authors,
or soldiers ; and they thought that the most fitting
occasion for such a celebration was the present
time, when Mr. Kean is about to relinquish his
management of the Princess's Theatre, where for
some years past he has obtained an almost world-
wide fame for his artistic and splendid representa-

tions of Shakspere's master-pieces.
The Earl of Carlisle, an " Etonian," had con-
sented to take the chair, but owing to his selection
by her Majesty, subsequently, for the position of
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, he was unable to be
present, and the Duke of Newcastle, another Eton
scholar, kindly consented to become his substitute.

The capacious and gold-bespangled hall was taste-
fully decorated for the entertainment, flags and
banners being suspended from the walls, and a
large and choice collection of evergreens and exotics
being placed on the raised platform in front of the
organ. There were six tables, extending nearly the
whols length of the hall, and one placed transverse
at the top of each, bearing magnificent candelabra,
vases of flowers, and pots of growing grapes of the
richest and most tempting quality.
Covers were laid for about 400 persons, and fully
that number attended.
The galleries were set aside for the ladies, who
appeared in full evening costume, and added much
to the brilliancy of the scene and to the enthusiasm
exhibited during the evening.
Mr. Charles Kean sat on the chairman's right,
and at the same table were Viscount Exmouth,
Lord John Manners, M.P., Colonel the Hon. James
Lindsay, M.P., Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P.,
Right Hon. Spencer Walpole, M.P., General Sir J.
Burgoyne, Bart., G.C.8., Sir W. Minto Farquhar,
Bart., M.P.,Mr. C. J. Selwyn, M.P., Sir Francis
Hastings oyle, Bart., Mr. Sergeant Kinglake,
M.P., Mr. Wm. Vansittart, M.P., Mr. T. E. Moss,
of Liverpool, Mr. Wm. Platt, Mr. W. C. Long, Mr.
P. L. Powys, M.P., Mr. Lewis Lloyd, Mr. C. E.
Johnston, Rev. R. Lewis Browne, and Lieut.-Col.
M. Bruce. Among the rest of the company we ob-
served Sir E. Perry, M.P., Sir John Johnstone,
Bart., Mr. W. M. Thackeray, Mr. A. Borthwick,
Mr. Beresford-Hope, M.P., Mr. Sims Reeves,
Mrs. Charles Kean entered the gallery while the
dinner was proceeding, and, on being recognised,
was most enthusiastically cheered, all the company
rising to do her honour.
The dinner being over, and "Non nobis Domino"
having been sung by the choir of Eton College,
The Noble CHAIRMAN proposed " The Queen,"
which was responded to with the customary enthu-
siasm, and followed by the " National Anthem."
The next toast was The Prince Consort, Prince
of Wales, and the rest of the Royal Family." The
CHAIRMAN, in proposing it, expressed a hope that
the Prince of Wales, in his next tour, would pay a
visit to one of the greet colonies of England. (Loud
cheers.) He also spoke in terms of high eulogy of
the Duke of Cambridge, who, he said, was devoting
the whole of his energies to the reorganisation of
the British army,
The toast was drunk with the utmost cordiality.
Then came " The Army and Navy," to which
General Sir I. Burgoyne replied.
The CHAIRMAN, in rising to propose the toast of
the evening, said—l deeply regret that this duty
has not fallen to the lot of him who was originally
intended to perform it. Before I propose the toast
let me say one word. with reference to the origin of
this banquet. Many of you know that every son
of Eton looks back with feelings of the tenderest
affection to the school in which he was educated.
(Cheers.) Many of you even, who have not been
educated at Eton, may know that there is a sort of
freemasonry amongst us which draws us together,
nn ler whatever circumstances, and in whatever
quarter of the world we may be thrown. (Cheers.)
Well, then, we Etonians, contemporaries of
Charles Kean, although we have amongst us th e
names of some of the most distinguished mei which
the country has produced—generals, statesmen,
philosophers, poets, and others—desire to show that
we have now a son of Eton who has brought fresh
lustre to the school, and to whom, therefore, we are
anxious to express our admiration. (Cheers.) But
we felt, at the same time, that in such a demon-
stration it was the right of all to join. We, the
Etonians, instituted it, but we felt it was right to
call upon you to participate in it. We felt that the
fame of Charles Kean was the property of all.
(Cheers.) It was at Eton he began his pireer, but
he has now grown his growth, and has become the
property of his age and of his country. Therefore
we invited you to join in this banquet, and in that
testimonial which is to be the consequence of it.
(Cheers.) It would occupy you too long if I were
to attempt to give anything like a biography of our
guest; but I may perhaps be pardoned if, in this
assembly, initiated by Etonians, I mention that it
is now 35 years ago since he, and I, and others sit-
ting at this table, were associated together in that
school. (Cheers.) That as a scholar he was dis-
tinguished, you may judge from what you have
seen of him in after life—(cheers)—that as a boy
he was popular, I appeal to the friends assembled
around me at this board—(cheers)—but that he
was no book-worm merely I may prove by this fact,
that while the hon. secretary of this festival was
captain of a boat, he was second captain, and pulled
a stroke in a match cf six, of which six, it is a curi-
ous fact, there are four at the present moment in
this room. Such was his prowess, and such was
the honest rivalry in which he indulged. I believe
it was a drawn match ; at any rate it was celebrated
by a joint breakfast of the boats' crews at Eton.
(Laughter.) In the very year he left Eton he
entered on the stage. It would be impertinence
in me to refer to the circumstances which induced
that step, but I may mention, as an additional
clement to his credit, that his education had not
tended to such a career. Six years afterwards
he performed on the boards of Covent Garden for
the last time with his distinguished father, who
died shortly afterwards. On that occassion he
also acted with another—with Miss Ellen Tree—
(loud cheers, the company rising and waving their
handkerchiefs)—with her who has since been the
partaker of all his labours and all his glories, and
is now the happy participator in the honours which
are showered upon him to night. (Cheers.) Gen-
tlemen, it would be absurd in me to attempt to de-
scribe the state of the stage at the period Mr. Chas.
Kean entered upon it, but I may allude to this fact,
that for some time previously there had been a com-
plete severance of dramatic poetry from the theatre,
and that while dramatic poetry occupied the highest
position in the imaginative literature of this coun-
try, while every one delighted in the poetry of the
Elizabethan age, Shakspere had been nearly ex-
cluded from those boards upon which it has been
his object and his delight to introduce the most
beautiful conceptions of his genius, and to remedy
the evils which he found existing. Gentlemen, in
the days of ancient Greece the drama and the
theatre were the most effectiveinstruments in form-
ing the character of that remarkable people ; and
if it is not the same at this moment, they are at any
rate an index to the social status of a people, and
we may trace in succession the feelings, sentiments,
and moral opinions of this country, if we look back
to the coarseness of language which prevailed in
the time of the Tudors, degenerating into pure ob-
icenity, and to what is even worse, the profligacy
of heart and sentiment which marked the reign of
Charles ll.—(hear, hear)—and I believe that if
there is not a complete revival of what we would
wish to see, at any rate there is an improvement in
the tastes of the people. Having referred to an-
cient Greece, I may observe that those actors were
considered to be worthy the highest honours of the
State, and it is strange indeed that in this land of
literature and art, wilst the followers of art—
sculptors, painters, poets—receive at least some
Portion of their meed of praise, approbation, and
respect—and, so far from grudging it, I say they
do not receive as much as they ought to do—(hear,
hear\
,--lievertheless, I say it is strange that the
branch of art the most rare and the most difficult in
which to arrive at excellence seems to be cast into the
shade and to be treated almost with obloquy—at any
rate with indifference, Honour, then, the man who
has raised the fromstag:ee.
what it was when he entered
upon it. What is the stage
now? I do not mean to
say he found it M the state I have represented it ;
but he raised it materially, and introduced reforms
which were begun by the great Garrick, followed
up by the two Kembles and his father, and matured
by himself. (Cheers.) I allude of course to his Shak-
sperian revivals. We all know their merits—we
have heard them criticised, but theyhave outlived
criticism. His fame, however, does not rest alone on
those revivals. He has shown a versatility in his
art—he has shown a knowledge of the human char-
acter—he has shown the influence of mind overthe
passions of men. I say he has shown all these things
in a way that proves he is no copyist—that he is no
mannerist—that he is not a man with one idea only.
(Cheers.) Moreover, he is a great historical painter.
I see distinguished professors of the art of painting
in this room, and I ask them whether they do not
look on Mr. Kean as a rival ? We know that their
productions, happily for them, descend fresh from
the easel to posterity, while, unhappily for him, his
productions perish the same evening, and leave no-
thing but their fame behind them. (Cheers.) The
weenery not only forms lessonsin art, but lessons in
L'istory. Many of us are attached to the science of
ar,lhxology. I look on Mr. Kean as one of the great
arcs hxologists of the day. He has had a reason for
ever) 'thing. There is nothing which he has intro-
duced on the stage for which he has not had an
authori 'ty. For every one of his representations of

Shakspere there is the exact costume, the exact
scenery, and the exact furniture of rooms which, we
have every reason to believe, from other sources,
existed at the time. (Cheers.) But he has done more;
he has introduced groups on the stage in a manner
approaching to the marvellous. The way they are
organised, drilled, brought upon the stage and
moved about without confusion, is worthy any
general in the service. (Laughter and cheers.) He
has, in acting Shakspere, answered the question of
the great Shakspere himself—
" Can this cock-pit hold the vasty fields of France ?"
Mr. Kean has proved that it can, and until he made
the attempt no one dreamt of such a thing. Well,
with what spirit has he entered upon his career ?
He has done so in no commercial spirit. (Cheers.)
Without neglecting the interests of his family—and
we should respect him the less if he had neglected
them—he has been actuated by a pure love of his
art, by a love of his profession, and by a noble spirit.
(Cheers.) He no doubt feels the truth of the lines—
" The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give,
For those who live to please must please to live."
By that sentiment he has been properly influenced;
but he has never allowed the love of gain to induce
him to swerve for one moment from that clear line
of duty which he has chalked out for himself. He
has followed his career regardless of every selfish
consideration, and I am certain he has now his re-
ward in the approval and admiration of the public.
(Cheers.) At the same time his hand has ever been
open to assist the poor and needy, more especially
with regard to his own profession. (Cheers.)
I remember the meeting in the Princess's Theatre
about twelve months ago, when he eloquently
advocated the cause of the Dramatic College, and
proved not only that his eloquence and his ser-
vices were at the command of the charity, but that
his purse was equally so. (Cheers.) As our guest
has to follow me, I do not think I should be justi-
fied in adding one word more in advocating the
toast. You know his public merits ; many of you
know his private virtues—(cheers)—and therefore
I will only ask you to drink to the health of one
whose virtues and whose private character have
brought around him a wide circle of affectionate and
admiring friends—(cheers)--to one whose zeal in
his profession, amounting almost to enthusiasm,
has led him to prove that a theatre may be made,
not merely a vehicle for frivolous amusement,
or, what is worse, dissipation, but that it may be
erected into a gigantic instrument of education
for the instruction of the young, and for the edifi-
cation as well as the amusement of those of ma-
ture age. (Cheers.) I ask you to drink to his
health as one who has exalted the character of the
British drama. I ask you to drink his health as
one whose benevolence and charity many a down-
trodden brother and sister of his art has felt
and blessed. I ask you to drink to the health of
one whose genius has illustrated and• whose cha-
racter has elevated the profession to which he be-
longs. (Cheers.) Finally, I ask you to drink his
health as one whom I may term, if figuratively,
yet without exaggeration, the hierarch of that
glorious temple in which Shakspere is enshrined.
(Loud cheers.)
The toast was drunk with oft-repeated rounds of
applause, in which the ladies in the gallery cor-
dially joined.
The enthusiasm of the company having some-
what abated,
Mr. KEAN, on rising to return thanks, was rap-
turously applauded. He said—My Lords and
Gentlemen, when I entered this room and took my
seat in presence of this distinguished company, as
the invited guest of the evening, I felt and appre-
ciated at its full value, and, I trust, with becoming
pride, the flattering position to which your favour
has exalted me ; but it was impossible for me to
anticipate the kind and gracious eu:ogiums of
the noble chairman, so warmly and eloquently
expressed, and your enthusiastic response. lam
totally unable to thank you as I ought or as
I wish. I throw myself on your indulgence,
entreating you to believe in the sincerity of my
feebly uttered sentiments, and to pardon my poverty
of language in consideration of the overflow of my
heart. (Cheers.) Amongst the leading influences of
human character the ties of kindred occupy a fore-
most rank ; next to these, perhaps, may be placed
the associations of boyhood, the remembrance of
those happy days, at school or college, when life
" first put forth the tender leaves of hope "—when
all was spring and sunshine—when our young
minds were engrossed with the present, and the
gathering clouds of the future were unseen or dis-
regarded. All these thronging visions of the past
come back upon me at this moment, after the lapse
of more than 30 years, with the freshness of yes-
terday, and with that pure enjoyment which
only such revived feelings can impart, as I
look upon many of the faces by which I am sur-
rounded, and consider the originating impulse
that gave rise to the present brilliant assem-
blage. (Cheers.) To be thus recognised and pre-
sen' ed, as it were, anew to the public as the fellow-
student and early companion of men who have
I inherited or achieved the highest honours and the
purest fame—men as universally esteemed for their
talents, their integrity, and their benevolence, as
for their exalted rank and social importance—such
a crowning episode in the pilgrimage of life is
surely more than enough to compensate for years
of toil, and to obliterate for ever the memory of
past struggles, anxieties and disappointments.
(Cheers.) How, also, am Ito find words in which
to convey my sense of obligation to my unswerving
patrons and supporters—the public ; that public
who havo so frankly and generously responded to
the present call, and whose co-operation was ever
ready to promote what I conscientiously believed
to be the blending of their most intellectual recrea-
tion with a true development of the best purposes
of our national drama. Let me offer to their repre-
sentatives here my heartfelt gratitude—
" Only I have left to say
More is thy due than more than all can pay."

You have done me a great honour—the greatest
possible honour that could be conferred on a mem-
ber of the theatrical profession, and thus on the
dramatic art itself—that art the progress and pro-
sperity of which cannot be otherwise than a sub-
ject of interest to every reflecting and educated
mind • for the legitimate object of the drama is to
contribute to the intellectual culture of mankind—
to expose to view the secret springs of action, the
most minute vibrations of the human heart—to
exhibit the character of man under all its various
and conflicting passions—to inspire sentiments
which may serve tho purposes of truth and morality,
whose end, as Shakspere has told us, both at the
first and now, was and is, " To hold as 'twere the
mirror up to nature, to show virtue her own fea-
ture, scorn her own image, and the very age and
body of the time its form and pressure." (Cheers.)
When these objects are not attained, the drama has
not fulfilled its mission. It is not because the
stage may be degraded from its higher purposes
that its beneficial influence should be over-
looked or rejected. (Cheers, and cries of
" Bravo !") All human institutions must neces-
sarily be defective in their organisation, compris-
ing within themselves mingled elements of good
and evil. Imperfect in their source, they cannot be
otherwise than imperfect in their exercise. The
effect depends upon the care with which these ele-
ments are regulated, and the utmost that can be
hoped for is a preponderance of good. Thus, in the
natural world, we find plants possessing the con:
trasted ingredients of health and destruction.
Shakspere has described thil in one of his most
familiar passages—
" Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence and med'cine power;
Two such opposed foes encamp them still
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will ;
And where the worser is predominant
Full soon the calker death eats up that plant."

These lines contain a brief but comprehensive moral,
which may be applied not only to the stage, but to
everything in life, of whatever class or quality. It
may be difficult to preserve a garden free from weeds,
but who for that reason would root up the flowers,
or abandon them to be choked ? That which con-
tains certain advantages to society at large surely
should not be disregarded as an instrument of good
because it is capable of misapplication. Its use and
not its abuse, should be rendered most prominent,
and its influence encouraged as a humanising agent
in embellishing life, refining taste, and imparting
knowledge. (Cheers.) Let it be remembered, in
the words of our own immortal poet,

" It is in ourselves that we are thus and thus ;"
and that
" There is good in everything." '
(Cheers.) The love of the drama is inherent in our
nature, and must have been implanted there for
some beneficial purpose. For ages it has employed
the loftiest intellect and asserted universal sway
over the heart and mind of man. In no country
throughout the world, past or present, has the
poetical drama reached such perfection as in
England, for the annals of genius and civilisation
include but one Shakspere. (Cheers.) A stream
of light has been poured upon the world's
surface by that bright luminary which no change
his
influence stg his raysis
felto over the
evn
every
highestclass andand the
grade lowest Hen odarken, no time can obliterate. (Cheers.)
authority has been appealed
texts for to by the advocate, the
e shti s;
judge, the statesman,
nishedscaiendce, philosophy, patriotism,
affection, charity,
Truly has the greatn religion itself. (Cheers.)
moralist,which contains
Dr. Johnson, said,
" Shakspere is a mine
we find t gold and
plenty. diamonds in inexhaustible y. Hi s
wisdomar e.
filled with practical axioms and
domestic u
From his works may be collected an entire system
of civil and economical prudence." And surely Dr.
Johnson was right, for where shall such
boundless versatility of thought and reasoning,