The Sun.
London, England, 1868-05-07 00:00:00

TILE RO

Y FUND.

The usual anniversary banquet of this institution
was held at the Freemasons' Tavern last night.
The Right Hon. Benjamin Disraeli presided, and
was supported by a numerous and distinguished
company. On entering the hall Mr. Disraeli was
very warmly received by the company. Between
200 and 300 gentlemen sac down to dinner.
Mrs. Disraeli and a party of distinguished ladies
witnessed the proceedings from the body of the, hall,
and the ladies' gallery was also well filled.
The CHAIRMAN.--My Lords and Gentlemen,—l
beg to propose to you a toast which is always drunk
in every society of Englishmen with feelings of re-
spectful cordiality ; but in this assembly of the
Literary Fund it is received with feelings of pecu-
liar enthusiasm, because it is the toast of one who
now for many years has been our munificent patron.
(Cheers.) In proposing to you the health of her
Majesty this year, I cannot forget that sine,: I last
bad the honour of dining with the Literary Fund
her Majesty has inscribed her name in the memor-
able list of Royal authors—(cheers)—and her Ma-
jesty has experienced a fortune which has not
always been the fate of Royal authors, or even
of authors of another description ; for her Ma-
jesty has found thousands and hundreds of thou-
sands of readers for her volumes. (Cheers.)
That is not surprising, since those who have
read those pages must have recognised in them
the touch of nature that makes all hearts kin.
(Cheers.) I propose to you, therefore, with all the
honours, "The Hoaltla of our munificent patron her
Majesty the Queen." (Loud cheers.)
The CIIAIRMAN—I have now to propose that we
shall drink "The Health of the Prince and Prin-
cess of Wales and the other Members of the Royal
Family." The Royal Family is peculiarly con-
nected with this institution. .His• Royal Highness
the Prince of Wales has deigned to fill the chair
which I now occupy. (Hear, hear.) In that he
only followed the example of his illustrious father, a
Prince who did more for the refinement of the
taste of this country than any prince who ever
flourished since the days of the Medici. (Cheers.)
But there are peculiar circumstances which on this
occasion must force us to drink this toast with feel-
ings of no common emotion. All of us must have
heard with alarm and indignation of the attempt
recently made in a distant settlement of the Queen
upon the life of one of her children. (Hear, hear.)
That attempt was, I think, unjustly associated with
the name of Ireland. But if anything could have
proved more triumphantly than another the injus-
tice of that aspersion on that nation it was the recep-
tion which at that very moment was being accorded
by a loyal and a generous people to another child
of the Queen, whose presence on that soil with the
charming partner of his life and state proved what
I for one never doubted—the entire loyalty of that
gifted people. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I propose to
you " The Health of the Prince and Princess of
Wales and the other Members of the Royal Family."
(Cheers.)

Earl BEAUCHAMP proposed 44 The Church," re-
marking upon the services which the clergy had
rendered to literature, science, and art.

The Bishop of ROCHESTER briefly acknowledged
the toast.

The CHAIRMAN, in rising to propose the toast of
the evening, was greeted with loud and continued
cheering. He said—My Lords and Gentlemen,-
0 tie of the most illustrious of my predecessors in.the
seat which I now occupy regretted that, when he had
to approach the most interesting theme on the even-
ing of our anniversaries, he had to touch upon one
which for more than three-quarters of a century had
been handled by the most illustrious and eminent
men of this country, and therefore he drew the
very sound inference that there was no novelty of
treatment of which it was capable, and no new
suggestio❑ which could possibly arise in regard to
it. I myself must admit the justice of that obser-
vation. But in my own experience I have a pain-
ful recollection that the difficulty is increased and
the disadvantage aggravated, because I cannot for-
get that this is not the first time that I have had the
honour of sitting in this chair, and that there is
upon record my inadequate attempt to vindicate the
constitution of the society and to advocate the sup-
port of i.s fortunes. (Hear, hear.) Bat, alas, my
lords and gentlemen, ou the present occasion there
is an additional reason why I should feel my utter
inadequacy to the office which I am now attempt-
ing to fulfil. I come to this assembly like one who
from the heat of combat repairs to the pure flow
of so:ne placid stream to slake the thirst of
battle. (Cheers and laughter.) It is au effort
to me to attune my mind to the gracious
and refined offices which I have now to per-
form. If, indeed, I had followed my own im-
pulse, I would have declined the chair which I
once filled and the honours which I so much
enjoyed. But I must trust to your indulgent re-
ception of my desultory remarks, and I feel that I
can be sustained at this moment only by that which
I say will ever endure—namely, my sympathy for
the good old cause. (Cheers.) That observation
of my predecessor to which I have referred reminds
us at this moment that the Literary Fund is an
ancient institution ; but, though ancient, it is not
an obsolete institution, which may easily be proved
by contrasting the assembly now present with the
first dinner which was held in this metropolis to
commemorate the foundation of this fund. Perhaps
during the 70 or 80 years that have elapsed since
that time some of the greatest events that have ever
occurred in the experience of mankind have hap-
pened. It is possible that within au equal space
❑o more memorable incidents could be com-
prised, and the great changes which during
that interval have affected the fortunes of
humanity have not spared the position of the author.
At the time when the Literary Fund was founded
the man of letters had escaped from the patronage
of nobles, and had taken refuge in the more sub-
stantial protection of the bookseller. But the great
feature of our time, that great creation which is
rapidly developing—a reading public—did not exist.
(Hear, hear.) Its growth, however, has exercised
a considerable influence on the position of the
author. It opened immediately a great area of
literary sympathy which, when this institution was
first established, was unknown. Instead of the
Grubb-street of Queen Anne's time, literary men
have Low founded a compact, a well-orgauisel, and
an honourable profession ; and we know well that
there are many men of letters who, exercising that
professional power, have realised incomes that may
match those that the learned professions, which
have long been admitted to an honourable place,
had alone hitherto produced. But it would be
a great mistake to suppose that because this
great change, and to a certain extent this happy
change, in the position of literary men has oc-
curred since the foundation of this fund, there
is no longer any necessity or a reduced necessity for
the active exercise of its offices. On the contrary,
in the first place we must recollect that this very
increase of the area of literary sympathy has in-
creased the number of aspirants for literary fame
and success. But there is something for us to re-
collect beyond that. The author is, as we must
ever remember, of peculiar organisation. lie is a
being born with a predisposition which with him is
irresistible, the bent of which he cannot in any way
avoid, whether it directs him to the abstruse re-
searches of erudition, or induces him to mount

into the fervid and turbulent atmosphere of imagi-
nation. But in either case we know that the

life and career of such men cannot be regulated
by the common rules of prudence which, wisely
and properly, are expected to regulate the con-

duct of ordinary men. Well, then, I say it was
a suggestion beautiful in feeling and profound iu
thought that when such characters required assist-

ante—when they wanted aid, and consolation, and
succour—they should not have to appeal to those
common feelings of charity which influence us all

in our relations with ordinary. men, but that they
should find an institution which, like a generous
and sympathising friend, should minster to all their
wants, and at the same time appreciate their pur-

suits and their idiosyncracies. That was the object
of the Literary Fund, whereby in lieu of the patron
they find a society which, instead of expecting
gratitude from the individual who is succoured, feels
that it is honoured and rewarded by his acceptance