<table><tr><th>Omeka ID</th><th>Omeka URL</th><th>Title</th><th>Subject</th><th>Description</th><th>Creator</th><th>Source</th><th>Publisher</th><th>Date</th><th>Contributor</th><th>Rights</th><th>Relation</th><th>Format</th><th>Language</th><th>Type</th><th>Identifier</th><th>Coverage</th><th>Is Required By</th><th>Is Referenced By</th><th>Is Replaced By</th><th>Is Version Of</th><th>Has Version</th><th>License</th><th>Mediator</th><th>Medium</th><th>Provenance</th><th>References</th><th>Replaces</th><th>Requires</th><th>Rights Holder</th><th>Spatial Coverage</th><th>Table Of Contents</th><th>Temporal Coverage</th><th>Date Copyrighted</th><th>Access Rights</th><th>Accrual Method</th><th>Accrual Periodicity</th><th>Accrual Policy</th><th>Alternative Title</th><th>Audience</th><th>Audience Education Level</th><th>Bibliographic Citation</th><th>Conforms To</th><th>Date Accepted</th><th>Date Available</th><th>Is Part Of</th><th>Date Created</th><th>Date Issued</th><th>Date Modified</th><th>Date Submitted</th><th>Date Valid</th><th>Extent</th><th>Has Format</th><th>Has Part</th><th>Abstract</th><th>Instructional Method</th><th>Is Format Of</th><th>Original Format</th><th>Venue</th><th>URL</th><th>Transcription</th><th>To</th><th>TEI File</th><th>Summary</th><th>Publication Type</th><th>Publication</th><th>Pseudonym</th><th>Physical Dimensions</th><th>Bibliography</th><th>Occupation</th><th>Ngram Text</th><th>Ngram Date</th><th>Location</th><th>From</th><th>Event Type</th><th>Death</th><th>Birthplace</th><th>Birth</th><th>Biographical Text</th><th>Files</th><th>Tags</th></tr><tr><td>245</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/245</td><td>Printers&amp;#039; Pension Society Anniversary Festival 1843</td><td></td><td>Toast at the Printers&amp;#039; Pension Society Anniversary Festival (4 April 1843).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1843-04-04&quot;&gt;1843-04-04&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1843-04-04_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Printers' Pension Society Annual Dinner' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;(4 April 1843). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-04-04_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-04-04_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society&lt;/a&gt;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;It had, he observed, a more immediate reference to the object for which they were that day assembled. The Printers&rsquo; Pension Society had existed, as most them no doubt knew, about sixteen years, and was founded for the purpose of maintaining the widows of deceased printers, or decayed printers themselves. The amounts awarded in the estimation of some might be said to be small, &ndash; the good that was done was great. It afforded to many, and the most deserving persons, relief in the hour of distress, &ndash; that distress which sooner or later comes to most of us. But the printers were peculiarly liable to premature decay, to injury in their faculties when many others were still able to earn their daily bread (which was a fact known to most of them) from the character of their occupation &ndash; the late and arduous hours during which they were obliged to tax powers that were often of the most delicate nature.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;That peculiar liability to decay gave printers powerful claims to their sympathy and support. But that claim was largely enhanced when they recollected that by the printers&rsquo; means they were enabled to scatter throughout the world the loftiest efforts of intellect &ndash; the &lsquo;thoughts that breathe, the words that burn&rsquo; &ndash; to send to every part of the universe the great imaginings of the most accomplished minds, to instruct and regenerate mankind. When they reflected thus &ndash; and who could avoid it? &ndash; the claims of the printers became irresistible. He felt quite assured from what took place at the last election for pensioners, and from what he saw now in that room, that everyone would promptly put his hand into whatever pocket he had, and thereby enable their Treasure to make a most favourable report. He was sure it was unnecessary to add more to arouse their sympathies; but he could assure them that the knockings at the door of the institution were very numerous.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Be it borne in mind that this institution gave no encouragement to thoughtlessness and extravagance; for every claimant must have contributed to the funds for some years before he was qualified should necessity arise to appeal for aid. Many had belonged to it from its foundation. He knew many who were so circumstanced. The institution was further valuable as generating good feeling among the workmen themselves. On every account they deserved the respect and consideration of every honest man, to the truth of which he could bear ample testimony from considerable intercourse with that valuable body of men. There was an asylum for warriors who had fought the battles of their country, and most justly and properly; but, in God&rsquo;s name, let them sustain an asylum for those who suffered in struggles, in the bloodless contests, of promoting knowledge, of civilizing or of improving mankind, and of advancing the peaceful superiority of human beings. He gave them 'The Printers&rsquo; Pension Society, and prosperity to it'.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He felt deeply obliged, he said, for the kindness thus shown, and the enthusiastic manner in which it had been evinced. There were few proceedings which went so home to his heart, as such testimonies of kind regards.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He then continued:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He had, he said, to propose another toast, and he would introduce it with a remark or two, not because they were requisite, but because such a toast on such an occasion ought not to be named without some observation.&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;He had next to propose, he said, &lsquo;The Stationers&rsquo; Company&rsquo;. He believed that notwithstanding what had been declared by a Noble and learned Lord, &lsquo;a friend of ours elsewhere&rsquo;, the Stationers&rsquo; Company were alive and doing well, and that Stationers&rsquo; Hall still stood where it did. He gave, with great pleasure, &lsquo;The Stationers&rsquo; Company, the steady supporters of the Printers&rsquo; Pension Society&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>The Printers&rsquo; Pension Society, and prosperity to it. I now give &lsquo;The Press&rsquo;, that wonderful lever Archimedes wished for, and which has moved the world! which has impelled it onward in the path of knowledge, of mercy, and of human improvement so far that nothing in the world can ever roll it back! The mass of the people, said Dr. Johnson very truly, in any country where printing is unknown, must be barbarous; and Sir Thomas More, the best, and wisest, and the greatest of men, who, before the press was established, died what was almost the natural death of the good, and the wise and the great &ndash; Sir Thomas More so clearly saw into futurity, and descried from afar off the stupendous influence of the press, that he went out of his way to set up a printing-press in Utopia, knowing that without it even the people of that fancied land would not bear competition in the course of years with the real nations of the earth. If they looked back only for two hundred years, to that time when the Dutch citizen carved letters on the bark of the beechen tree, and took off impressions of them on paper as toys to please his grand-children &ndash; he little knew the wonderful agent which, in scarcely a century, was about to burst on mankind; what a strong engine in the course of time it must become, even in the land where the ruthless vices and crimes of the anointed ruffian who spread More&rsquo;s bloody pillow were to acquire him an immortality of infamy. I thank God that it has been so; from that hour no good has been devised, no wonderful invention has been broached, no barbarism has been struck down, but that same press has had its iron grip upon it, and never once has it let it till it was done. If we look at our social and daily life, we shall see how constantly present the press is, and how essential an element it has become of civilized existence. In great houses, and even in lowly huts, in crowds, and in solitudes, in town and country, in the nursery of the children and by the old man&rsquo;s elbow chair &ndash; still, in some shape or other, there it is! Now it is an alphabet, with its fat black capital letters; now in the form of whole words; now in the story of Puss in Boots; now as Robinson Crusoe; now as a tale of the Caliph Haroun al-Raschid; now as a Lindley Murray; now as a Tutor&rsquo;s Assistant; then as a Virgil, a Homer, or a Milton; now in the form of the labours of the editor of a popular newspaper: in some shape or other the press is constantly present and associated with our lives, from the baptismal service to the burial of the dead. I know that to some its power is obnoxious. There are some gentlemen of a patriotism so unselfish that they would put the newspaper press of their native country on an equality of efficiency with that of another nation, which, as long ago as Benjamin Franklin wrote, was an unique, a distinct and a singular thing. But as we have means of judging for ourselves every morning and evening of the newspaper literature, it is satisfactory to know that there never was a righteous cause but the same men have hated it; and there never was a disappointed man or a discontented patriot, anxious to pass upon a people determined not to recognize him as such, but he has bemoaned the privileges of the press in the same crocodile&rsquo;s tears. With regard to the influence of the press on public men, I only leave you to judge from what public men often are even with this engine in full operation, what sort of characters they would be without it. I give you then, &ndash; &lsquo;The fountain of Knowledge and the bulwark of Freedom, the founder of free states and their preserver &ndash; the Press!&rsquo; The Stationers&rsquo; Company, the steady supporters of the Printers&rsquo; Pension Society.</td><td>18430404</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>238</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/238</td><td>At the Annual Dinner of the Hospital for Consumption and Diseases of the Chest</td><td></td><td>Toast at the Annual Dinner of the Hospital for Consumption and Diseases of the Chest (6 May 1843).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1843-05-06&quot;&gt;1843-05-06&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1843-05-06_Speech_Hospital-for-Consumption</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'At the Annual Dinner of the Hospital for Consumption and Diseases of the Chest' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;(6 May 1843). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-05-06_Speech_Hospital-for-Consumption&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-05-06_Speech_Hospital-for-Consumption&lt;/a&gt;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;The institution, he said, although at this time but a very young plant almost in the bud, had struck a deep root and taken a strong hold in the bosoms of tens of thousands of our fellow creatures. Little more than six months, according to the report just read, had passed since the hospital was open for the reception of patients, and within that short time no fewer than sixty or seventy patients had occupied its beds, while the number of out-patients &ndash; many whom they had been delighted to learn had, by the skill and timely aid they had received, been enabled to resume their accustomed occupations &ndash; amounted to no fewer than 750.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If this charity had not existed, the doors of no sick house within London&rsquo;s wide bounds would have been open to these poor persons. Before the hospital was founded they would have suffered, lingered, pined, and died in their poor homes, without a hand stretched out to help them in their slow decay. Remembering that the classes of suffering which the charity purposed to alleviate were of all others peculiarly the growth and produce of the country; that they were often the inheritance of the youngest, fairest, best amongst us, that they deprived fair England of those whom it could least afford to lose, struck down the objects of our dearest hopes when in their youthful prime, and when it was hardest to lose them &ndash; remembering these things who could doubt that such a charity must be munificently endowed? He now called upon them to drink &lsquo;Prosperity&rsquo; to the institution, not as an unmeaning toast, but as a pledge that nothing on their parts should be wanting to aid and urge it onward in its prosperous course.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18430506</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>268</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/268</td><td>Charitable and Provident Society for the Aged and Infirm Deaf and Dumb Anniversary Festival 1843</td><td></td><td>Speeches at the Charitable and Provident Society for the Aged and Infirm Deaf and Dumb Anniversary Festival (23 May 1843).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1843-05-23&quot;&gt;1843-05-23&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1843-05-23_Speech_Charitable-and-Provident-Society-for-the-Aged-and-Infirm-Deaf-and-Dumb-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speeches at the Charitable and Provident Society for the Aged and Infirm Deaf and Dumb Anniversary Festival' (23 May 1843).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-05-23_Speech_Charitable-and-Provident-Society-for-the-Aged-and-Infirm-Deaf-and-Dumb-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-05-23_Speech_Charitable-and-Provident-Society-for-the-Aged-and-Infirm-Deaf-and-Dumb-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;It was, he said, with particular gratification that he had attended that celebration and witnessed its proceedings. It was a matter for just rejoicing to contemplate the healthy and promising appearance of that institution. Its objects were of the most useful and praiseworthy character; and the nobleman who presided, distinguished as he was for his amiability and usefulness, had never been engaged in a more valuable manner than on this occasion.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18430523</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>280</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/280</td><td>Dinner for the Sanatorium</td><td></td><td>Dinner for the Sanatorium (29 June 1843).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1843-06-29&quot;&gt;1843-06-29&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1843-06-29_Speech_Dinner-for-the-Sanatorium</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Dinner for the Sanatorium' (29 June 1843).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-06-29_Speech_Dinner-for-the-Sanatorium&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1843-06-29_Speech_Dinner-for-the-Sanatorium&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>He had been asked to perform this duty, he said, and he did it most cheerfully. Of the merits and advantages of the institution he was fully convinced; and in his desire to promote the success of such establishments he could assure them he was second to no man. He hoped they would not deem it presumptuous in him to say that he knew something of the classes for which this institution was intended. It was to provide for those classes refuge in sickness, and to restore them to peace of mind, health of body, and reinstatement in their positions in society. Its objects were so noble and so interesting, that to be successful it only required to be known in the highest and most active classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then proposed the health of their chairman, for who so fit to be their president as he who had sacrificed party spirit and politics that he might advance the cause and interests of the neglected and forlon, &ndash; who had boldly stood forward among seven hundred legislators, and maintained that women should not be compelled to do the work of harnessed brutes? To Lord Ashley the most oppressed and neglected classes would have to return thanks for ages to come. &ndash; &lsquo;Lord Ashley, the chairman of the day.&rsquo;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18430629</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>300</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/300</td><td>Governesses&amp;#039; Benevolent Institution First Anniversary Festival</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Governesses&amp;#039; Benevolent Institution First Anniversary Festival (20 April 1844).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1844-04-20&quot;&gt;1844-04-20&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1844-04-20_Speech_Governesses-Benevolent-Institution-First-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Governesses' Benevolent Institution First Anniversary Festival' (20 April 1844). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1844-04-20_Speech_Governesses-Benevolent-Institution-First-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1844-04-20_Speech_Governesses-Benevolent-Institution-First-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;auto&quot;&gt;The toast he was about to propose, he said, had reference to the means by which the end they had in view was to be attained, and to the delicacy with which the helping hand of the society was extended to objects of its sympathy: it was, &lsquo;the health of the Committees of ladies and gentlemen who manage its affairs&rsquo;. He took the great end and object of this institution to be the recognition, at last, of the claims and merit of a class whose office is in reason and in right high, but which has been made in folly and injustice low. It&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt; had been stated by Dr. Goldsmith, who had painful experience of the neglect which this class of instructor endures, that he knew no member of society more useful nor more honourable than the imparter of knowledge; at the same time he knew none who was so generally despised, and whose talents were so ill rewarded. Now, if this were true in general, with what particular force did it apply to those unkind, ungenerous slights which &lsquo;patient merit of the unworthy takes' in the persons of governesses?&rsquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;It was very well to say that &lsquo;knowledge is power&rsquo;, but how often did they forget that it was a source of weakness too? Knowledge had not its right place in society, and he believed that it did not obtain a just recognition and reward for its services anywhere. To take the case of those ladies in comparison with menial servants: they were worse paid than the cook; their salaries would bear poor comparison with the wages of the butler; they would appear but shabbily with the remuneration of the lady's-maid; and they were even lower than those paid to liveried footmen. The power of governesses was acknowledged by the middle-aged lady in a turban &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;&ndash; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;she felt the power of the governess's knowledge in the education of her daughters; gentlemen also felt the power of the governess's knowledge; but nobody thought of the poor fagged knowledge herself, her eyes red with poring over advertisements in search of a new situation; and, after having faithfully accomplished her task in one family, being thrown upon the world, and going forth again among strangers to educate others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;When he first received the prospectus of this institution, and perceived that to a committee of ladies was entrusted the care of considering the cases of distressed governesses and of relieving them with a delicacy suitable to their refined feelings, he began to hope for the improvement of the condition of governesses who were not distressed, and to hope that their position in society would be elevated as it ought to be. He considered that those ladies and gentlemen who engaged in this good work virtually pledged themselves, by their influence and example, to elevate the moral condition of governesses; and from that moment he conceived in that institution a heartfelt interest, and a hope of future benefit, that he felt for very few. He took that to be the great end of the institution, for it would otherwise do but little at the best. They might relieve the physical sufferings of governesses in distress &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;&ndash; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;they might cheer them on the bed of sickness, and soften the asperities of their condition in declining age; but, unless the society exerted its energies to render governesses more respected, it would fall far short of the  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;great end which he conceived it had in view. From first to last he had a confidence that the society would do its duty; and he hoped by its means to see blotted out a national reproach, and that the profession of education would be placed on that honourable footing which in any civilized and Christian land, it ought to hold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18440420</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>301</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/301</td><td>The Sanatorium Anniversary Festival</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Sanatorium Anniversary Festival (4 June 1844).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1844-06-04&quot;&gt;1844-06-04&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1844-06-04_Speech_Sanatorium-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Sanatorium Anniversary Festival' (4 June 1844). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1844-06-04_Speech_Sanatorium-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1844-06-04_Speech_Sanatorium-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot; xml:lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; class=&quot;TextRun Highlight SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;When he had given that toast, he said, he should feel that the glory of his office was gone. He had often looked towards the gallery of that room and wondered why the ladies were consigned to that dismal, gloomy, and uncomfortable region, and considered whether there could be any good reason for sending them skyward. He had &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;speculated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;again and again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt; whether the custom was Chinese, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2Themed SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;Kamschatkan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;, Mahometan, or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SpellingErrorV2Themed SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;Ojibbeway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;, because he felt it was certainly not an English one, or, if it was, that it ought no longer to be so. He was lately conversing with a friend upon the subject, and he suggested as a reason for the custom a desire, on the part of the men, to etherealize the ladies, as they could not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;possibly suppose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt; that they &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;desired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt; to eat and drink. It certainly was not that distance might increase the enchantment, as they were enchanting to us under any circumstances. He had consulted several ladies who sat around him on the subject, and they had told him we were mistaken in their views, and indeed it was high time the men set themselves right, or there was no knowing what tremendous consequences might ensue from the ladies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&rsquo; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;determined vows of celibacy. They had, however, this evening set themselves right, and they might congratulate themselves upon the grace and lustre that were shed upon the meeting by the presence of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&lsquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;our better angels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&rsquo;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;, of our dearest companions and our constant and unchanging friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;s &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot; xml:lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; class=&quot;TextRun Highlight SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&ndash;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot; xml:lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; lang=&quot;EN-GB&quot; class=&quot;TextRun Highlight SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;NormalTextRun SCXW125234455 BCX0&quot;&gt; those friends who were ever at our sides in the period of our success, the closest to us in triumph and defeat, and to whom, let us roam through the world as fiercely as we will, we must come back for comfort and help; and excellent as this establishment was with all its appliances and means to boot, it was nothing in comparison with the soothing kindness and affection of their gentle care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Ladies and Gentlemen, I have now to propose to you a toast which may not only be assumed to have a real interest for us who are met here to advance the prospects of a young and struggling institution, but which I know concerns and deeply moves the welfare, comfort, mental ease, health, and life of a vast multitude of persons of both sexes, born and bred among the middle classes of society, who are dependent, under Providence, upon their own honourable exertions for subsistence in this great wilderness &ndash;  London. The toast, ladies and gentlemen, is &lsquo;Prosperity to the Sanatorium&rsquo;. I scarcely know whether it is necessary for me in this company to enter into any explanation of the objects and designs of this establishment, but its leading principle may be very easily and briefly stated. It is a home in sickness, founded and maintained upon the footing of a club, the expenses of which, by the voluntary contributions of many persons for a common welfare and advantage, are rendered so light that a weekly payment never exceeding two guineas, and in many instances not exceeding one guinea, secures to every inmate, gentleman or lady, a comfortable, genteel, and cheerful house; a quiet, well-ventilated, and wholesome chamber; the first medical advice that the skill and science of this city can supply; the diligent and careful nursing of persons trained and educated for the purpose; every possible comfort in illness, and every possible means towards recovery. This small weekly payment begins and ceases with the residence of the sick persons in the house, the qualification for a member being the annual subscription of only one guinea. If the patient have any relative or devoted friends anxious to minister to his or her afflictions, that friend can reside in the house on the same cheap and easy terms; and if the patient have a preference for any medical adviser not immediately connected with the institution, that gentleman can rely, as many have, and certify to it afterwards, on his instructions being honestly and faithfully carried out, and his treatment never being interfered with in the least degree; nay, the patient never even having heard of such a place as the Sanatorium, may have been induced to enter it &ndash; for this has happened also &ndash; by the advice of a medical professor most eminent and most honoured for his humanity and great attainments, who has said: &lsquo;You have to submit to a most terrible bodily trial, go into this place, in Heaven&amp;#039;s name; for on nowhere else can I repose such perfect confidence in the treatment and attention you will receive and which will, therefore, lead to your ultimate recovery? Bear in mind, ladies and gentlemen, that all those benefits are extended to the recipients, not in charity, but as a just right which honest pride may claim without a blush. Bear in mind that but for this Sick Home hundreds of persons, as sensitively and delicately nurtured as ourselves, would have had no choice between a public hospital and the uncertain supplies of strangers. Is it too much to claim, therefore, for an institution such as this the sympathy of every generous mind and feeling heart?  Let us suppose for a moment that there was no such place as the Sanatorium, as there was not two years ago, and that a lady who lives by imparting to others the accomplishments that she acquired in happier and more prosperous days, who is a governess in a family, is stricken down by illness. It is part of the lady&amp;#039;s position that she should have no home to repair to in such a case, for her profession leads her, of necessity, to establish herself in the homes of others. It is, therefore, almost a part of that lady&amp;#039;s position, very often to have no right to be ill; but, as that implied contract is an artificial one in which nature has no very great share, ill she is &ndash; and seriously. The lady in the family, Mrs. Wilkins we will say, takes an early opportunity of informing Mr. Wilkins of the circumstance, and Mr. Wilkins at first, does not very well know what to make of it, as it was not in the agreement; but he, after a little reflection, says that this sort of thing is very inconvenient to the family, as no doubt it is, and that he hopes it is not catching. The family apothecary advises him, and says &lsquo;No, it is not catching; but it is a surgical disorder of long standing, not uncommon &ndash; not at all uncommon; but of a very serious nature, which will require time, the best medical advice, and a severe operation.&rsquo; Mr. Wilkins lives in a very good style; but his house is not larger than will comfortably accommodate his family, and he has to provide another governess for the instruction of his children. He is a tender-hearted man enough; but he cannot create out of a tender heart the room and attention which such a case requires. The poor lady is perfectly aware of that, resigns her situation, and takes a lodging. She is visited there by a surgeon, a most humane and liberal man, to whom this melancholy case is by no means strange, who entertains a great interest and compassion for her, and who more than confirms the statement of the apothecary. He feels for her desolate situation, and makes a few inquiries. Her family, of course, was broken up when she went out as a governess, or she never would have gone out. But has she no relative? Yes, a brother, but he is a clerk in the City. She has a sister, but she went to Australia four years ago, with a husband and six children. The case must be proceeded with. Nobody dare venture to breathe in her anxious and excited ear of a hospital, and there is nothing for her but a lodging, which, for any provision that it has in its convenience for illness, might be a lodging for an immortal spirit wholly unencumbered by a body &ndash; where the good woman of the house is almost perpetually employed in the back parlour dotting down her accounts with pen and ink, adding them up and bringing them forward, and carrying them over. She is greatly assisted in the product of these items by an odious anomaly called a sick nurse, who has been hired to attend upon the poor lady, and who is a creature of that sort who never could continue to exist but for our deplorable propensity to take whatever does exist for granted, and to rest comfortably satisfied that, because it is very bad, it cannot be better. And so this poor lady struggles on, surrounded by every adverse circumstance at a time when everything should be propitious, and instead of kind feelings and fostering hope going hand in hand to speed her recovery, her home is gloomy, hopeless, and disconsolate. And even if her desolate situation should awaken, and Heaven forbid such circumstances should not awaken, the sympathies of those about her, leading them to be regardless of their own immediate profit in her great misery, even that is torture to an honourable mind; for in this miserable sacrifice of the poor, and the uncertainty of ever being able to repay the kindnesses, new causes of despondency and grief inevitably spring up. This is no idle picture, but one of every day&amp;#039;s occurrence, and you may know of its existence. It is even stated here, in this little record which has been laid before you today, where a poor governess frightfully afflicted is cured, where the blind clerk recovers the inestimable blessing of sight, where the senseless is restored to health, where the gentleman and scholar, whose labours are connected with popular instruction through the press, does not disdain to seek refuge, where the dying man expatiates to his brother, day by day, upon the happiness and peace of such a place as this institution, begging him with his last breath to make it better known when he is in his grave. There is not one among us, I am confident, who can withstand this little simple history. There is not one among us, I know by myself, who can pass it wholly by-there is not one among us, having a brother or child, or any dear friend, who can dismiss the harrowing echoes of that faint voice from his mind. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Sanatorium we call upon you to assist. I am confident that the voice of which I have spoken will speak to you far more forcibly than I can ever hope to do of the high claims it has upon you. Its principle is self-support, &ndash; still, it appeals to you and the public for help; for to be self-supporting it must be thoroughly and well established, and there is no greater inconsistency in thus putting forth its pretentions and appealing to you for help, than there is in any young married couple who are to live upon their annual income wanting some assistance upon their first entering into the world. The directors of this Sanatorium,  ladies and gentlemen, cannot offer you the luxury sometimes too freely offered, of the bestowing of charity in the common acceptance of the word, but they can offer you the gratification &ndash; and you will judge for yourselves whether there can be a higher or better one &ndash; of helping those who help themselves. They offer you the gratification of enabling men and women of strong hearts to preserve an independent spirit and an upright mien, when that calamity, which is our common inheritance, stops the labour of their hands and heads. There can be no one here who does not owe a debt of sympathy for acts of kindness and affection in the hour of need, and I am persuaded that there is no one present to whom the prosperity of this institution, if it be rightly understood, can by possibility be a matter of indifference or slight regard. I beg, therefore, to propose to you to drink, &lsquo;Prosperity to the Sanatorium&rsquo;.</td><td>18440604</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>254</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/254</td><td>First Anniversary Festival of the General Theatrical Fund</td><td></td><td>Speech at the First Anniversary Festival of the General Theatrical Fund (6 April 1846).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=18460406&quot;&gt;18460406&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1846-04-06_Speech_First-Anniversary-Festival-General-Theatrical-Fund</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the First Anniversary Festival of the General Theatrical Fund' (6 April 1846).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/ 1846-04-06_Speech_First-Anniversary-Festival-General-Theatrical-Fund&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/ 1846-04-06_Speech_First-Anniversary-Festival-General-Theatrical-Fund&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, in offering to you a toast which has not yet been publicly drunk in any company, it becomes incumbent on me to offer a few words in explanation, &ndash; in the first place premising that the toast will be, &lsquo;The General Theatrical Fund&rsquo;. The association whose anniversary we celebrate tonight, was founded seven years ago, for the purpose of granting permanent pensions to such members of the corps dramatique as had retired from the stage, either from a decline in their years or decay in their powers. Collected within the scope of its benevolence are all actors and actresses, singers or dancers, of five years&rsquo; standing in the profession. To relieve their necessities and to protect them from want is the great aim of the society; and it is good to know that for seven years the members of it have steadily, patiently, quietly, and perseveringly pursued this end, advancing by regular contribution moneys which many of them could ill afford, and cheered by no external help or assistance whatsoever. It has thus served a regular apprenticeship; but I trust that we shall establish tonight that its time is out, and that henceforth the Fund will enter upon a flourishing and brilliant career. I have no doubt that you are all aware that there are, and were when this institution was founded, two other institutions existing, of a similar nature &ndash; Covent Garden and Drury Lane &ndash; both of long standing, both richly endowed. It cannot, however, be tpo distinctly understood that the present institution is not in any way adverse to those. How can it be, when it is only a wide and broad extension of all that is most excellent in the principles on which they are founded? That such an extension was absolutely necessary was sufficiently proved by the fact that the great body of the dramatic corps were excluded from the benefits conferred by a membership of either of these institutions; for it was essential in order to become a member of the Drury Lane society that the applicant, either he or she, should have been engaged for three consecutive seasons as performer. This was afterwards reduced, in the case of Covent Garden, to a period of two years; but it really is as exclusive one way as another, for I need not tell you that Covent Garden is now but a vision of the past. You might play the bottle-conjuror with its dramatic company, and put them all into a pint bottle. The human voice is rarely heard within its walls save in connexion with Corn, or the ambidextrous prestidigitation of the Wizard of the North. The only run there, is the run of rats and mice. In like manner Drury Lane is so devoted to foreign ballets and foreign operas that it is more deserving of the name of the Op&eacute;ra Comique, than of a national theatre; while the statue of Shakespeare is well placed over its portal, since it serves as emphatically to point out his grave as does his bust at Stratford-upon-Avon. How can the profession generally hope to qualify for the Drury Lane or Covent Garden institutions, when the oldest and most distinguished members have been driven from the boards on which they earned their reputations, to delight the town in theatres to which the General Theatrical Fund alone extends? I will again repeat that I attach no reproach to those other Funds, with which I have had the honour of being connected at different periods of my life. At the time those associations were established, an engagement of one of those theatres was almost a matter of course, and a successful engagement would last a whole life; but in an engagement of two months&rsquo; duration at Covent Garden would be a perfect Old Parr of an engagement just now. It should never be forgotten that when those two funds were established the two great theatres were protected by patent, and that at that time the minor theatres were condemned by law to the representation of the most preposterous nonsense, and some gentlemen whom I see around me could have no more belonged to the minor theatres of that day than they could now belong to St. Bartholomew&rsquo;s Fair. As I honour the two old Funds for the great good which they have done, so I honour this for the much greater good it is resolved to do. It is not because I love them less, but because I love this more &ndash; because it includes more in its operation. Let us ever remember that there is no class of actors who stand so much in need of a retiring fund as those who do not win the great prizes, but who are nevertheless an essential part of the theatrical system, by consequent bear a part in contributing to our pleasure. We owe them a debt which we ought to pay. The beds of such men are not of roses, but of very artificial flowers indeed. Their lives are full of care and privation, and hard struggles with very stern realities. It is from among the poor actors who drink wine from goblets, in colour marvellously like toast and water, and who preside at Barmecide feasts with wonderful appetites for steaks, &ndash; it is from their ranks that the most triumphant favourites have sprung. And surely, besides this, the greater the instruction and delight we derive from the rich English drama, the more we are bound to succour and protect the humblest of those votaries of the art, who add to our instruction and amusement. Hazlitt has well said that &lsquo;There is no class of society whom so many people regard with affection as actors. We greet them on the stage, we like to meet them in the streets; they almost always recall to us pleasant associations.&rsquo; When they have strutted and fretted their hour upon the stage, let them not be heard no more, &ndash; but let them be heard sometimes to say that they are happy in their old age. When they have passed for the last time behind that glittering row of lights with which we are all familiar, let them not pass away into the gloom and darkness; but let them pass into cheerfulness and light, into a contented and happy home. This is the object for which we have met; and I am too familiar with the English character not to know that it will be effected. When we come suddenly in a crowded street upon the careworn features of a familiar face, crossing us like the ghost of pleasant hours forgotten, let us not recall these features in pain, in sad remembrance of what they once were; but let us in joy recognize, and go back a pace or two to meet it once again, as that of a friend who has beguiled us of a moment of care, who was taught us to sympathize with virtuous grief cheating us to tears for sorrows not our own &ndash; and we all know how pleasant are such tears. Let such a face be ever remembered as that of our benefactor and our friend. I tried to recollect, in coming here, whether I had ever been in any theatre in my life from which I had not brought away some pleasant association, however poor the theatre; and I protest, out of my varied experience, I could not remember even one from which I had not brought some favourable impression &ndash; and that, commencing with the period when I believed that the Clown was a being born into the world with infinite pockets, and ending with that in which I saw the other night, outside one of the &lsquo;Royal Saloons&rsquo;, a playbill which showed me ships completely rigged, carrying men and careering over boundless and tempestuous oceans. And now, bespeaking your kindest remembrance of our theatres and actors, I beg to propose that you drink as heartily and freely as ever a toast was drunk in this toast-drinking city, &lsquo;Prosperity to the General Theatrical Fund&rsquo;.</td><td>18460406</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>244</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/244</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1847</td><td></td><td>Toast at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (29 March 1847).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1847-03-29&quot;&gt;1847-03-29&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1847-03-29_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Dinner</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'General Theatrical Anniversary Festival' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;(29 March 1847). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1847-03-29_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Dinner&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1847-03-29_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Dinner&lt;/a&gt;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, it is well for me, and better for you, that the admirable exposition we have heard from my friend on my left of the claims and merits of the General Theatrical Fund, and its immense superiority in its freedom from exclusive restrictions to any other institution having any similar but narrower object, leaves nothing to be added on that head: though the case is so clear and so strong, and has always in its common sense and justice interested me so earnestly, that I could hold forth on this theme &lsquo;until my eyelids could no longer wag&rsquo;, and am happy to be relieved of the danger of producing any influence on your eyelids by dealing with it at all. As it has been written of Vice, that she is A monster of such hideous mien, As to be hated needs but to be seen. so, I am sure, it might be written of the General Theatrical Fund, that its objects are: so worthy and so much its own As to be favoured, need but to be known. And better known they never can be, than from the lips which have proclaimed them to the room this night. There is, however, gentlemen, one point that seems to me to arise naturally out of the observations of our distinguished President, and at which I cannot help just glancing as I go along. Hope lingered at the bottom of a box in ancient days, as we are told: I cannot help fancying that I descry her lingering yet, at the bottom of those two strong-boxes of the Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatrical Funds, to offer solid consolation to the General Theatrical Fund in time to come. For as the natural recipients of that treasure pass away in natural course, and no one among them bears in his hand &lsquo;a glass that shows me many more&rsquo; &ndash; or any more &ndash; I cannot help fancying that some portion of the garnered wealth must come our way at last, and float into our roomy coffers. Gentlemen, I hardly think it possible that two such large golden camels can entirely pass through the eyes of two such little needles; and when an institution has arisen, so broad and free as this is, which extends its advantages, not to the pale shades of two dead and buried companies of actors, but to the whole theatrical profession throughout England, I hold it would be a faint-hearted blinking of the question not to avow what most of us here must surely feel &ndash; a confident belief that to such resources it may justly, and of right, look for valuable endowment in the days to come. It is ill &lsquo;waiting for dead men&rsquo;s shoes&rsquo;, I know; but it is quite another matter waiting for shoes that have been made for people who can never be born to try them on. I come now, gentlemen, to propose to you a toast which is uppermost, I dare say, in the thoughts of everybody present, which is &lsquo;the very head and front&rsquo; of the occasion, and the cause which brings us together; which is, and ever must be, inseparably associated with the honour, dignity, and glory of the English stage; with its revival in splendour and magnificence from ruin and rubbish, with its claims to be respected as an art and as a noble means of general instruction and improvement. To whom could such a toast apply, if not to our chairman, Mr. Macready? Of whom, gentlemen &ndash; so graceful and appropriate is the position he now occupies among us &ndash; I would say, if I may paraphrase what he knows well, that nothing in the Chair became him like the taking of it. It is as generous and true in him &ndash; at the head of his profession, and at the zenith of a proud and prosperous career, to take part with this Fund, and to be heard in this pace urging its claims with a manly earnestness, because it is not restrictive, and because it does not favour a few, and because it addresses itself to the great body of actors, and most of all to those who most need it, &ndash; as it must be of enduring service to the institution to receive such high and valuable testimony. Gentlemen, it would be difficult for me to find terms in which to discharge the duty of proposing our chairman&rsquo;s health, in the difficulty I always feel as to the separation of his name from sentiments of strong personal affection and attachment, if I were not happily relieved by the knowledge that, in your breasts as well as mine, the mere mention of Mr. Macready&rsquo;s name awakens a host of eloquent associations, &ndash; Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, grey-haired Lear, Virginius, Werner, and a host of others, speak for him within us, like spirits. We once again forget the encircling walls of his Covent Garden Theatre, or of Drury Lane &ndash; theatres then with nothing infamous to mock the lesson that the poet taught or shame the woman-student of it &ndash; and look upon old Rome, its senate and its army, or the Forest of Arden with its gnarled and melancholy boughs, or Swinstead Abbey Gardens with the cruel king upon his death-bed, or Prospero&rsquo;s enchanted island, or any of those scenes of airy nothings that he made plain and palpable. Oh! if one touch of nature makes the whole world kin, think, gentlemen, for how much of the kindred feeling that is amongst us tonight, or at any time, we are indebted to such an art, and such a man! May we be more and more indebted to him, year by year, for very many years to come! May we yet behold the English drama &ndash; this is a hope to which I always cling &ndash; in some theatre of his own, rising proudly from its ashes, into new and vigorous existence. And may we, in the reception we now give his name, express all this, and twenty times as much; including the past, the present, and the future; and give him reason years hence to remember this occasion, with something of the pleasure and delight that we have through him derived from it ourselves! I beg to propose to you to drink the health of our chairman, Mr. Macready.</td><td>18470329</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>255</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/255</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1848</td><td></td><td>Toasts given at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (17 April 1848).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1848-04-17&quot;&gt;1848-04-17&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1848-04-17_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Toasts given at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (17 April 1848).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1848-04-17_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1848-04-17_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>He had, he said, never been in limbo, and therefore his knowledge of the Old Bailey was limited; and as the sheriff had been pleased to remark that but few, if any actors, had been in &lsquo;durance vile&rsquo;, he thought he might return the compliment by saying that but few sheriffs had been resident in Newgate. With respect to the speech of the gallant officer, who returned thanks for the Navy, he could assure him that though his friend Captain Cuttle was not present, he would most indubitably &lsquo;take a note of it&rsquo;. &lsquo;Good wine&rsquo;, as Rosalind says, &lsquo;needs no bush&rsquo;; so a good play needs no epilogue; a good book no preface; and a good toast but few words. It was conventionally supposed that actors were an improvident race; but he would maintain that it was more creditable to those who yielded up out of so many shillings so many pence to a fund for their decayed brethren, than those who hoarded up hundreds. And he would assert that, in the profession, there were a number of highly honourable, talented and striving men and women, of whose daily lives many of the company then assembled might take an example. Dickens then pronounced a high eulogium on the talents of the chairman, who, he said, had written the best comedy since Goldsmith&rsquo;s time; and as to his works of fiction, they were known and appreciated by all the world. He concluded by calling on the company to drink his health.; He had, he said, but half a dozen words to say. The Muses were ladies; the Graces were ladies; some of the best writers were ladies; some of the best characters in tragedy and comedy were ladies; the brightest portion of our existence were ladies. He would, therefore, give &lsquo;The Ladies&rsquo;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18480417</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>256</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/256</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1849</td><td></td><td>Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (21 May 1849).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1849-05-21&quot;&gt;1849-05-21&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1849-05-21_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (21 May 1849).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1849-05-21_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1849-05-21_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, in hope that you will not object to a Trustee with a cold, however naturally you might object to a cold Trustee, I beg, in behalf of my absent colleagues, to return you their thanks for the honour you have rendered them, and on my own part to acknowledge the honour you have rendered me. And I am well assured, gentlemen, that I express their feelings no less than my own, when I congratulate the General Theatrical Fund on the brilliant assembly by which I am surrounded; and on its being presided over by a gentleman who has a triple claim on its consideration and respect. I do not mean to say, gentlemen, with Mrs. Malaprop&rsquo;s own happy confusion of ideas, that the chairman is &lsquo;like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once&rsquo;; but I think I give utterance to the sentiment &ndash; to the general sentiment &ndash; of all this company, when I hail him as gracefully seated in his right place tonight, not only in consideration of his own talents and public position, but in memory of the genius of his immortal father, and in consideration of the many tender and sweet remembrances all England must associate with his accomplished wife. Gentlemen, if, like some Trustees on an infinitely larger scale &ndash; some of those legislative Trustees who occasionally refresh themselves with odd vagaries elsewhere &ndash; I might espy &lsquo;strangers present&rsquo;; though Heaven forbid that the sudden sharpness of my eyesight should be attended with the disastrous House of Commons consequences, and lead to the withdrawal of those fair ornaments of our society; but I say, if, with the proverbial clearness of vision of an Irish member, I might espy &lsquo;strangers present,&rsquo; I would appeal to them confidently as the best judges whether their sex has ever had a gentler, better, truer exponent than the lady of whom I speak. Perchance, gentlemen, I would appeal to them to say whether her sitting among us at this time is not the crowning grace of our festivity. In common, gentlemen, both with the chairman and Secretary, I regret very much to miss at this board today the pleasant and familiar face of our Treasurer; I regret it selfishly for our sakes, for I can guess to how many faces his is imparting something of its own delightful cheerfulness and mirth at this moment. But as a less important officer of this institution, it is a great pleasure to me to confirm all that you have heard stated of its continued prosperity, and to bear my admiring testimony to the patience and perseverance with which its members contribute, many of them from very scanty and uncertain resources, those periodical sums which are to be a provision for their old age; to exult, as I annually do, in the refutation thus afforded to the sweeping charge of improvidence, which is somewhat thoughtlessly made, and as I conceive ungenerously, against the members of the theatrical profession, and other not dissimilar pursuits. Gentlemen, I always consider when I hear that charge made, that it is not sufficiently recollected that if you are born to the possession of a silver spoon, it may not be very difficult to apply yourself to the task of keeping it well polished on the side-board, but that if you are born to the possession of a wooden ladle instead, the process of transmuting it into that article of plate is often a very difficult and discouraging process. And most of all we should remember that it is so at a time of general trouble and distress. &lsquo;Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown&rsquo; indeed, in days when crowns of so many sorts, of gold, brass, and iron, are tumbling from the heads of the wearers; but the head that wears a mimic crown, and the hand that grasps a mimic sceptre, fare at such a season, worst of all; for then the peaceful, graceful arts of life go down, and the slighter ornaments of social existence are the first things crushed. Therefore, gentlemen, if the King of Sardinia cannot get into trouble without involving the King or Mr. Daggerwood&rsquo;s Company; and if the leader of the Austrian armies cannot make a movement without affecting the leader of the business at the Theatre Royal, Little Pedlington, so much the more have we reason to rejoice in the continued prosperity of this institution &ndash; so much the more have we reason to rejoice in its floating on this sea of trouble; like the veritable sea-serpent, according to Captain McQuhae, with which it tallies in all its essential features, for it is apparently bent on a vigorous and determined object, with its head considerably above water, and drawing easily behind it a long train of useful circumstances. One other word, gentlemen, on the hopes of the Drama, and consequently on the hopes of the extended operations of this establishment, and I have done. When the chairman made his first admirable speech, I confess I had some doubts whether I quite agreed with him, but I was quite sure that if we did not agree, we should agree to differ; but when made that admirable other speech in reference to the Fund, I was happy to find that we were cordially agreed. Gentlemen, I allude to the regeneration of the Drama. I think it is next to impossible but that it must come to pass, because the Drama is founded on an eternal principle in human nature. I say it respectfully, I do not think it within the power of any potentate on earth, however virtuous, however munificent, however strong in the love and honour of a people, to raise the Drama up, or to pull the Drama down. In this room, in Windsor Castle, in an African hut, in a North American wigwam, there is the same inborn delight and interest in a living representation of the actions, passions, joys, and sorrows of mankind. In England, of all countries on the earth, this interest is purified and exalted by the loftiest masterpieces of human fancy, and the proudest monuments of human wit. Such an art, gentlemen, I hold to be imperishable; reverses it may suffer, from many causes, but &lsquo;malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing&rsquo;, to my thinking, can root it out.</td><td>18490521</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>258</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/258</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1850</td><td></td><td>Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (25 March 1850).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1850-03-25&quot;&gt;1850-03-25&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1850-03-25_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (25 March 1850).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1850-03-25_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1850-03-25_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, Before I proceed to discharge the very simple office entrusted to me, you will perhaps allow me to congratulate you upon the very agreeable mode of spending Quarter Day &ndash; a day not always connected with agreeable associations, or devoted to such hilarity. Perhaps we will also allow me, gentlemen, to renew my annual congratulations on the prosperity of the General Theatrical Fund, and the courage and perseverance with which its members, many of them under very unpropitious circumstances indeed, continue to fulfil their task. I never go into any of our smaller London theatres, or even into country theatres &ndash; such a one for instance as I was at the other night, where no particular piece belonged to the immense night in the bill, where generally people walked in and out, where a sailor fought a combat with anyone he chanced to meet and who happened to be in possession of a sword, &ndash; I never go into any of the neglected temples of the drama, where it is so hard to get a living, but I come out again with a considerably strengthened and increased admiration of those who are the members of this Fund, and who, with constancy and perseverance, bear up under the greatest difficulties. It is, I say, an extraordinary and a remarkable fact, and an excellent example to the members of other and more lauded professions. Gentlemen, I now come to the toast which I have to propose to you. I shall not express, as I ought to express according to all precedent, my sorrow that it has not fallen into better hands; although it might easily have done that, to tell the truth, I am exceedingly glad to hold it in mine, as it gives me the opportunity of publicly rendering my humble tribute of respect to the character and exertions of a gentleman to whom this fund is much indebted, who is connected in no slight degree with the public enjoyment, and in no slight degree with the successes and hopes of the English Drama, its literature and art. I mean our chairman, Mr. Webster. I knew very well you would give a cordial reception to his name. I was well assured of it because I esteem, as every friend of this institution must esteem, the very great importance of his encouragement, because I feel it is honourable to him and to it, that setting aside all considerations of this Fund or that Fund, of this theatre or that theatre, he puts himself at the head of a society which comprehends all theatres, and which includes all the members of the profession of which he is an old and great supporter. I felt assured, gentlemen, of the sympathy of all this company who are not connected with the profession, because our chairman has been now, for a long time, the manager of two admirably conducted theatres; because he has never been behind the public requirements in any respect, but has even outstripped them; because he has a very strong demand upon our respect and admiration. My friend, Mr. Buckstone, admirably expressed in one sentence a capital summary of his merits, that &lsquo;he not only employed a great number of actors, but paid them too&rsquo;; and really, gentlemen, in drinking such a toast as the present, we must not forget what a very difficult and arduous career such a manager has to encounter; what untoward circumstances and great difficulties he has to struggle against, and how likely he is to be injured by any depression in the public mind, from whatever cause. Yet, notwithstanding all this, he has evinced a steadiness of purpose not to close his theatre, night after night, whatever may be the great temptations he has had to do so, being too mindful of the poor hangers-on dependent upon him for their daily bread, and who hope for the public support. Such a manager as this, gentlemen, Mr. Webster has always been; And when we add to this, that for many years he has fought a manly, stand-up English battle against very powerful rivals of various countries, English, Swedish, French, Italian, and has encountered all kinds of strange animals, lions, tigers, Ethiopians and Nightingales; and when we add to this list that it is sometimes softly whispered, though I do not believe it myself, that certain members of the theatrical profession, on rare and particular occasions, at great distances apart, are a little capricious and difficult to deal with: when we take all these circumstances into our consideration, I think we shall agree that he has come very nobly through his difficulties, and looks exceedingly well tonight after all that he has gone through. I cannot, gentlemen, in conclusion, express my sense of Mr. Webster&amp;#039;s position in reference to the Drama, and in reference to this society , more to my own satisfaction, at all events, than by relating little story (a very short one) that was told to me last night of an exceedingly intelligent and strictly veracious friend of mine, an American Sea Captain. Gentlemen, once upon a time, he had as a passenger upon board his ship a young lady of great personal attractions, they used that phrase as one entirely new to you, and five young gentlemen, also passengers, and who in the course of a short voyage all fell desperately in love with the young lady. The young lady, liking all the five young gentlemen, and liking them all equally well, felt herself placed in a position of some difficulty, and in this emergency applied for advice to my friend the Captain. My friend the Captain, himself a man of an original turn of mind, proposed to the young lady that she should jump overboard, he having a well-manned boat alongside to prevent the possibility of accidents, and that she should marry the man that jumped in after her. She was very much struck by it, and it being summer time and fine weather, and naturally fond of bathing, decided to accept the proposition. Accordingly, on a certain morning, when her five admirers were all on deck, she went over the side head foremost. Four of the five immediately plunged in after her; and, said the young lady to the Captain when they were all on deck again, &lsquo;What am I to do now? See how wet they are.&rsquo; Said the Captain to the young lady, &lsquo;Take the dry one!&rsquo; Which she did. Now the way in which I adapt this story to the present purpose is simply by reversing it: that the British drama having gone overboard, and a great many admirers having looked on coolly, and one having gone in and kept his head above water for a long time, my advice to this society would have been, &lsquo;Take the wet one.&rsquo; And you have got him. I am thoroughly glad you have, and I beg to propose to you, in all sincerity, to drink his health with acclamation. On behalf of the Hon. Mr. Justice Talfourd, and my brother Trustee, I beg to return you my best thanks, and particularly to my friend Mr. Webster, for his kind mention of my name. The only embarrassment that I feel on these occasions is that I really don&amp;#039;t know what we have to do. I might illustrate our position by a theatrical case. Perhaps you may have observed that when a young lady performs a piece of horsemanship, there are generally two or three ambiguous looking gentleman who follow Mr. Widdicombe about, and who are indispensable to the performance, though the lady never knows why or in what particular, but she is perfectly satisfied that they must be there, and that without them the thing could not possibly be done. I might suppose my friend Mr. Buckstone, in reference to this institution, to be the party representing Mr. Widdicombe, and Mr. Cullenford performing the pleasing act of Secretaryship upon the highly trained charger: well we, the Trustees, represent those attendants looking on so very hard after them.</td><td>18500325</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>306</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/306</td><td>Banquet in Honour of William Macready&amp;#039;s Farewell Performance</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Banquet in Honour of William Macready&amp;#039;s Farewell Performance (1 March 1851).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1851-03-01&quot;&gt;1851-03-01&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1851-03-01_Speech_Banquet-in-Honour-of-William-Macready</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Banquet in Honour of William Macready's Farewell Performance' (1 March 1851). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1851-03-01_Speech_Banquet-in-Honour-of-William-Macready&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1851-03-01_Speech_Banquet-in-Honour-of-William-Macready&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, After all you have already heard, and have so rapturously received, I assure you that not even the warmth of your kind welcome would embolden me to hope to interest you if I had not full confidence in the subject I have to offer to your notice. But my reliance on the strength of this appeal to you is so strong that I am rather encouraged than daunted by the brightness of the track on which I have to throw my little shadow. Gentlemen, as it seems to me, there are three great requisites essential to the perfect realization of a scene so unusual and so splendid as that in which we are now assembled. The first, and I may say most difficult requisite, is a man possessing that strong hold on the general remembrance, that indisputable claim on the general regard and esteem, which is possessed by my dear and much valued friend, our guest. The second requisite is the presence of a body of entertainers, a great multitude of hosts as cheerful and good humoured &ndash; under, I am sorry to say, some personal inconvenience &ndash; as warm-hearted and as nobly in earnest, as those whom I have the privilege of addressing. The third, and certainly not the least of these requisites, is a president who, less by his social position which he may claim by inheritance, or by his fortune which may have been adventitiously won, and may again be accidentally lost, than by his comprehensive genius, shall fitly represent the best part of him to whom honour is done, and the best part of those who unite in the doing of it. Such a president I think we have found in our chairman of tonight, and I need scarcely add that our chairman&amp;#039;s health is the toast I have to propose to you. Many of those who now hear me were present, I dare say, at that memorable scene of Wednesday night last, when the great vision which had been a delight and a lesson, and, I dare say, very often to many of us &ndash; I know I can speak for myself &ndash; a support and a comfort, and which for many years has improved and charmed us, and to which we look back in elevated relief from the labours of our lives, faded from our sight for ever. I will not stop to inquire whether our guest may or may not have looked forward through rather too long a period for us, to some remote and distant time when he might possibly bear some far-off likeness to a certain Spanish archbishop whom our old friend Gil Blas once served. Nor will I stop to inquire whether it was a reasonable disposition in the audience of Wednesday night to seize upon the words: And I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon &ndash;  but I will venture to intimate what has, in my own mind, mainly connected that occasion with the present. When I looked round on the vast assemblage, and observed the huge pit hushed into stillness on the rising of the curtain, and that mighty surging gallery, where men in their shirt sleeves had been striking out their arms like strong swimmers, &ndash; when I saw that boisterous human flood become still water in a moment, and remain so from the opening to the end of the play, it suggested to me something besides the trustworthiness of the English crowd, and the delusion under which those labour who are apt to disparage and malign it: it suggested to me, that in meeting here tonight, we undertook to represent something of the all-pervading feeling of that crowd through all its intermediate degrees, from the full-dressed lady, with her diamonds sparkling upon her breast in the proscenium-box, to the half-undressed gentleman, who bides his time to take some refreshment in the back row of the gallery. And I consider, gentlemen, that no one who could possibly be placed in this Chair could so well head that comprehensive representation, and could so well give the crowning grace to our festivities as one whose comprehensive genius has in his various works embraced them all, and who has in his dramatic genius, enchanted and enthralled them all at once. Gentlemen, it is not for me here to recall, after what you have heard this night, what I have seen and known in bygone times of Mr. Macready&amp;#039;s management, and of the strong friendship of Sir Bulwer Lytton for him, of the association of his pen with his earliest successes, or of Mr. Macready&amp;#039;s zealous and untiring services; but it may be permitted to me to say what, in any public mention of him I can never repress, that in the path we both tread I have uniformly found him from the first the most generous of men; quick to encourage, slow to disparage, ever anxious to assert the order of which he is so great an ornament; never condescending to shuffle it off, and leave it outside state rooms, as a Mussulman might leave his slippers outside a mosque. There is a popular prejudice, a kind of superstition, to the effect that authors are not a particularly united body, that they are not invariably and inseparably attached to each other. I am afraid I must concede half a grain or so of truth to that superstition; but this I know, that there can hardly be, that there hardly can have been, among the followers of literature, a man of more high standing further above those little grudging jealousies, which do sometimes disparage its brightness, than Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton. And I have the strongest reason just at present to bear my testimony to his great consideration for those evils which are sometimes unfortunately attendant upon it, though not on him. For, in conjunction with some other gentlemen now present, I have just embarked in a design with Sir Bulwer Lytton, to smooth the rugged way of young labourers, both in literature and the fine arts, and to soften, but by no eleemosynary means, the declining years of meritorious age. And if that project prosper, as I hope it will, and as I know it ought, it will one day be an honour in England where it is now a reproach; originating in his sympathies, being brought into operation by his activity, and endowed from the very cradle by his generosity. There are many among you who will have each his own favourite reason for drinking our chairman&rsquo;s health, resting his claim probably upon some of his diversified success. According to the nature of your reading, some of you will connect him with prose, others will connect him with poetry. One will connect him with comedy, and another with the romantic passions of the stage, and his assertion of worthy ambition and earnest struggles against those twin gaolers of the human heart Low birth and iron fortune. Again, another&amp;#039;s taste will lead him to the contemplation of Rienzi, and the streets of Rome; another&amp;#039;s to the rebuilt and repeopled streets of Pompeii; another&amp;#039;s to the touching history of the fireside where the Caxton family learned how to discipline their natures and tame their wild hopes down. But however various their feelings and reasons may be, I am sure that with one accord each will help the other, and all will swell the greeting, with which I shall now propose to you &lsquo;The Health of our Chairman, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton&rsquo;.</td><td>18510301</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>259</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/259</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1851</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s speeches at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (14 April 1851).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1851-04-14&quot;&gt;1851-04-14&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1851-04-14_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Chairman's speeches at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (14 April 1851).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1851-04-14_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1851-04-14_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;In reply the chairman begged to be allowed to offer them his deepest thanks for the manner in which the last toast had been responded to. He deeply felt the honour conferred upon him, having attended the meeting as a matter of duty, though placed from peculiar circumstances in a highly painful and difficult position. If his services were of any value to the institution, he said, he could assure its members that those services were always freely and heartily at their disposal. He would say no more upon the subject, but proceed to a toast which he doubted not would be warmly received and responded to.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He had always taken the highest interest in the prosperity of the Drama, because he believed that a noble Drama tended to purify the human heart, and was the most important agent in the work of education and civilization. He would not dismiss the hope that the British Drama would ultimately &lsquo;look up&rsquo;, after a pretty long contemplation of its feet; because he could not believe that any art which so appealed to the various passions and affections of human nature could become extinct. A love of the Drama in some shape was implanted in the breast of all people. When the officers of Captain Cook&rsquo;s ships, who had left their children enacting mimic plays in this country, arrived in the South Sea Uslands, they found the untutored natives doing the same beneath the shadow of their broad-leaved trees. It constituted one of the distinctions which separated man from the brute creation, and he should continue in that belief until he heard of the monkeys producing a play, or the elephants coming out in a good jog-trot, see-saw comedy.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It had often been his misfortune to hear the Drama decried by people of the best intentions because of its abuses. Now doubt the Drama had its abuses like other institutions, but so far from that being a reason why they should decry it, it was a reason why they should endeavour to improve and elevate it. In some shape you would always have it; and, depend upon it, if you would not have it at its best, with your own help and consent, you would have it at its worst in your own despite. Perhaps the one reason why the Drama did not hold so good a position in this country as it ought to do, was to be found in the fact that, up to a comparatively recent period, English legislation had drearily discouraged it, and its professors had not been looked upon with respect to which they were justly entitled. But notwithstanding all discouragement, he hoped that it could, and believed that it would, be restored to its proper position among the Arts; and in no way could they better assist the endeavour to raise it, than by extending their support and assistance to those who had always shown their anxiety to maintain the respectability and honour of Dramatic Profession.&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;The chairman then said that the next toast he had to give was the Professional Ladies and Gentlemen who delighted them with their exertions that evening. After what they had heard and witnessed he felt sure that he need do no more to recommend that toast to them, than to remind them that the whole of those Ladies and Gentlemen gave their assistance, not only gratuitously, but cheerfully, to aid the cause which they had met to promote, and he was sure that they wished for no greater reward than the knowledge that they had been instrumental in promoting the prosperity of the General Theatrical Fund.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Chairman said that he had now come to the last toast of the evening. There was a story told of an Eastern potentate, that when any intelligence of mischief having occurred was brought to him, he always used to exclaim, &lsquo;Who is she?&rsquo; &ndash; invariably anticipating that it must be caused by a woman. In this country they had a somewhat better application of the same idea, for whenever there was a cause of benevolence to be served, they had only to say &lsquo;Where is she?&rsquo; and the answer was sure to be &lsquo;She is here'. The Drama was full of beautiful specimens of woman&rsquo;s love and woman&rsquo;s wit, but without stopping to draw comparisons between the characters of Desdemona, Juliet, or other interesting creatures of the poet's brain, he would conclude by giving them, &lsquo;The Ladies&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, in offering to you the loyal and always acceptable toast, &lsquo;The Queen&rsquo;, I have the pleasure of informing you that the Secretary has, this morning, received Her Majesty&rsquo;s usual annual donation of one hundred pounds to the funds of the Institution. &lsquo;The Queen.&rsquo; Gentlemen, I am sure it will not be necessary for me in presenting to you the next toast, to remind any gentleman present &ndash; it being sufficiently known to all parties &ndash; of the great interest taken by the illustrious individual whose health I am about to propose, in all the arts and sciences, or the zealous co-operation which His Royal Highness Prince Albert has always shown to any measure devised for their encouragement. At the present time, that is more particularly brought under the attention of the public through the exertions now being made on the suggestion of His Royal highness, to open within a few days, an Exhibition of the world&rsquo;s progress in the arts and sciences in the magnificent and surprising Palace of Glass, which is, of itself, one of the most remarkable works of art of the age. &lsquo;His Royal Highness Prince Albert, Albert Prince of Wales, and the rest of the Royal Family.&rsquo; Gentlemen, the next toast which I have to propose is one, in reference to which the gallant deeds of the members of the professions that are the subjects of it, speak sufficiently in themselves, and need no words of mine, &ndash; &lsquo;The Army and Navy.&rsquo; Gentlemen, I have so often have the gratification of bearing my testimony in this place to the usefulness of the excellent institution in whose behalf we are assembled, that I should be sensible of the disadvantage of having nothing new to say to you in proposing the toast you all anticipate, if I were not relieved by the conviction that nothing new needs to be said, inasmuch as its old grounds of appeal to you can neither be weakened or strengthened by any advocacy of mine. Although the General Theatrical Fund, unlike some similar public institutions, is represented by no fabric of stone, or brick, or glass &ndash; like that wonderful achievement of my ingenious friend Mr. Paxton, of which the great demerit, as we learn from the best authorities, is, that it ought to have fallen down before it was quite built, and would by no means consent to do it. Although, I say, the General Theatrical Fund is represented by no great architectural edifice, it is nevertheless as plain a fact, rests upon as solid a foundation, and carries as erect a front as any building in the world. And the best that its exponent, standing in this place, can do, is to point it out to all beholders, saying simply, &lsquo;There it is! Judge of it for yourselves.&rsquo; But, gentlemen, though there may be no necessity for me to state what the General Theatrical Fund is, it may be desirable (with reference to that portion of the present company who have hitherto had but a limited acquaintance with it), that I should state what it is not. It is not a theatrical association whose benefits are confined to a small body of actors, while its claims to public supports are uniformly preferred in the name of the whole histrionic art. It is not a theatrical association adapted to a state of things entirely past and gone, and no more a feature of the present time than groves of highwaymen hanging in chains on Hounslow Heath, or strings of packhorses between London and Birmingham. It is not a rich old gentlemen, with the gout in his vitals, brushed up once a year to look as vigorous as possible, and taken out for a public airing by the few survivors of a large family of nephews and nieces, who keep him laid up in lavender all the rest of the year as a mighty delicate old gentleman: then ask his poor relations, whom they lock out with a double turn of the street door key, why they don&amp;#039;t come in and enjoy his money? It is not a theatrical association, which says to the poor actor, &lsquo;You have only to strut and fret your hour, for so many consecutive nights and for so many seasons, on this stage &ndash; whereon it is impossible you ever can set foot; you have only to declaim for so many consecutive nights, in English &ndash; here, upon these boards where the English tongue is never heard; you have only to force yourself between these bars (of music), and to make your way &ndash; you, an unwieldy Swan of Avon, into this aviary of singing birds &ndash; you have only to do this, and you shall come into your share of the advantages of the fund which was raised from the public, in the name, and for the love, of your all-embracing art.&rsquo; No, gentlemen, if there be any such funds, this Fund is not of that kind. This Fund is a theatrical association, addressed to the means, and adapted to the wants &ndash; and sore and dire those often are &ndash; of the whole theatrical profession throughout England. It is a society in which the word &lsquo;exclusiveness&rsquo; is unknown. It is a society which says to the actor, &lsquo;You may be the Brigand, or the Hamlet, or the Ghost, or the Court Physician, or the King&amp;#039;s whole army; you may do the light business, or the heavy business, or the comic business, or the serious business, or the eccentric business; you may be the captain who courts the young lady, whose guardian unaccountably persists in dressing himself a hundred years behind the time; or you may be the lady&amp;#039;s younger brother, in white kid gloves and trousers, whose position in the family would appear to be to listen to all the female members of it when they sing, and to shake hands with them between all the verses; or you may be the Baron who gives the f&ecirc;te, and who sits on the sofa under the canopy, with the Baroness, to behold the f&ecirc;te; or you may be the peasant who swells the drinking chorus at the f&ecirc;te, and who may usually be observed to turn his glass upside-down immediately before drinking the Baron&rsquo;s health; or you may be the Clown who takes away the door-step of the house where there&amp;#039;s a dinner party; or you may be the first stout gentleman who issues forth out of that house, on the false alarm of fire, and precipitates himself into the area; or you may be a Fairy, residing for ever in a revolving Star, in the Regions of Pleasure, or the Palaces of Delight; or you may even be a Witch in Macbeth, bearing a marvellous resemblance to the Malcolm or Donalbain of the previous scenes with his wig hind-side before. But, be you what you may; be your path in the profession never so high or never so humble, this institution addresses you, and offers you the means of doing good to yourself, and doing good to other people.&rsquo; Nor let it be forgotten, gentlemen, that the General Theatrical Fund is essentially a Provident Institution. Its members are of a class whose earnings are, at the best, precarious; and they are required to lay by, out of their weekly salary, when they get it, a certain small weekly sum. This they do through every difficulty, with constancy that cannot be too much admired; and the first effect of the institution on them, is, to engender a habit of forethought and self-denial. By becoming a member of this society the actor is placing himself in a position to secure his own right at no man&amp;#039;s wrong; and when in old age or times of distress he makes his claim to it, he will be entitled to say, &lsquo;I do not compromise my independence herein; I do not disgrace my children; I am neither a beggar nor a suppliant; I come to reap the harvest from the seed which I sowed long ago.&rsquo; Therefore it is, gentlemen, that in asking you to support this Institution, I never will hold out to you the inducement, that you are performing an act of charity in the common acceptation of the word. Of all the abuses of that much abused term, none have so raised my indignation as some that I have heard in this room. If you help this Fund you will not be performing an act of charity, but you will be helping those who help themselves, and you will be coming to the aid of men who put their own shoulders to the wheel of their sunken carriage, and did not stand idly by while it sank deeper in the mire. Have you help this Fund you will not be performing an act of charity, but you will do an act of Christian kindness, benevolence, encouragement. You will do an act of justice &ndash; you will do an act of gratitude. But I will not so wrong a body of men struggling so manfully for independence, as to solicit you to perform, in their behalf, an act of charity. Gentlemen, I have used the term &lsquo;gratitude&rsquo;. Let any of us look back upon his past life, and say whether he owes no gratitude to the actor&rsquo;s art! Not because it is often exercised in the midst of sickness, poverty, and misfortune, &ndash; other arts, God knows, are liable to the like distresses! Not because the actor sometimes comes from scenes of affliction and misfortune &ndash; even from death itself &ndash; to play his part before us; all men must do that violence to their feelings, in passing on to the fulfilment of their duties in the great strife and fight of life. But because in the relief afforded to us by the actor&rsquo;s art, we always find some reflection, humorous or pathetic, sombre or grotesque, of all the best things that we feel and know. If any man were to tell me that he owed no great acknowledgement to the stage, I would ask him the one question, whether he remembered his first play? Oh, gentlemen, if you can but carry back your thoughts to that night, and think a little of the bright and harmless world it opened to your view, full well assured am I that we shall hear of it expressively from Mr. Cullenford, when he comes to read out the donations by and by! Gentlemen, this is the sixth year the members of this society have met together in this room. This is the sixth time your child has been brought down and introduced to the company after dinner. His nurse, a very worthy person of the name of Buckstone, with excellent characters from several places, is here, and will presently speak to you regarding the health of the child; and will, I have no doubt, be able to tell you that is chest is perfectly sound, and its general health in the best condition. Long may it continue so &ndash; long may it thrive and grow! Long may we meet here to congratulate each other on its increased and increasing prosperity, and longer than the line of Banquo may the line of figures be, in which its patriotic share in the National Debt shall be stated a hundred years hence, in the account books of the Governor and Company of the Bank of England! I beg to give you, &lsquo;Prosperity to the General Theatrical Fund!&rsquo;</td><td>18510414</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>260</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/260</td><td>General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1852</td><td></td><td>Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (5 April 1852).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1852-04-05&quot;&gt;1852-04-05&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1852-05-04_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1852</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (5 April 1852).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1852-05-04_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1852&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1852-05-04_Speech_General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1852&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;He could assure them, he said, that he really was not using a common form of words, but was honestly expressing the feeling at the moment when he avowed himself at some loss, both to think the company for their hearty greeting, and to thank his generous friend in the Chair for the terms in which he had referred to him. Sir Anthony Absolute was of the opinion that in love of affairs it was best to begin with a little aversion; and if he (Mr. Dickens) could only have started with a little coldness on the part of his friend in the Chair, or even a moderate warmth on the part of the audience, it was quite unknown into what an admirable speech he should have presently soared. But a tribute so noble, and a welcome so cordial, he found to be very bad preparations indeed for such an achievement.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Before referring to the Fund, which is the main object of interest with all of them my evening, he would take leave to say that he was exceedingly glad that his friend, the chairman, it happened to allude to him, and that company, in his Stage-Managerial capacity; because he did particularly desire to express his conviction in such a company, of all others, that the dramatic profession was very ill served by some misjudging friends, when they supposed that it could possibly be injured by, or could possibly regard with anything like resentment or jealousy, Amateur Theatricals. He had, for a brief space, assumed the functions of an amateur manager and actor, in furtherance of a cause in which his warmest sympathies and aspirations were (like those of his friend in the Chair) enlisted; and to represent that the stage could possibly be injured, or could fairly claim any right to consider itself injured by such performances was to exclude it from the liberal position assumed in such wise by every other liberal art. And literature there were received, freely, and, without cavil, amateurs of all kinds: physicians, lawyers, officers of the army and navy, merchants&rsquo; clerks who travelled and saw strange countries, lords and ladies of various degrees, &ndash; anybody who had anything to say, and possibly, now, and then, somebody had nothing to say. Through the whole of the last season, a gallery was opened in Pall Mall for the exhibition of pictures of amateur artists; he never heard that the members of the Royal Academy were much aggrieved by the circumstance, or very desperately alarmed by its public patronage, and success. So, in music: he believed it was generally acknowledged that some excellent lessons have been given to the public and the profession by the knowledge and patience of amateurs in chorus singing, and that the production of some of the most admired works of the old masters were due to the exertions of amateurs, without the least injury to the regular professors of the art. The liberal and generous feeling which thus distinguished other kindred arts, surely was to be claimed for the stage, as &lt;em&gt;its&lt;/em&gt; just characteristic too; and could not be better claimed for it than at the anniversary celebration of its most comprehensive and its least restricted institution.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;With reference to the General Theatrical Fund, he had been so often before them as one of the Trustees, that he found it very difficult to say anything relative to it which he had not said before, or which they did not know as well as himself. Independently of the fact that their Fund had been established seven years, and that their position was improving every time they met, the eloquence of their chairman in proposing the toast of the evening, and their Treasurer&rsquo;s admirable acknowledgement of it, had completely exhausted the subject, and he now stood before them a bankrupt Trustee without a leg to stand upon. If he could only have found one good vice in the management, he would have been well set up in business for the evening, and might have remained in a perfectly self-satisfied condition until next year. If, for instance, he could only have complained that the institution was expensively managed, that there was nobody connected with the management, who had any sympathy with the unfortunate members of the Dramatic profession: that none of them had had any experience of the habits or struggles of poor actors; if hr could only have said that the Treasurer was a stern, austere man, altogether a hard-favoured person, severe of countenance and very difficult to approach; or if he could have said that the institution was exclusive in its nature, one that required candidates for admission to its benefits to have complied with some trifling condition &ndash; reasonable, but not easy, such as having held an engagement for two or three consecutive years in the moon, or having appeared in Sir Edward Lytton&rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;Money&lt;/em&gt; two or three hundred nights before the Esquimaux &ndash; if he could have found any such trifling ground of complaint, he would have been at no loss for a topic. But, whereas in the General Theatrical Fund, the local comedian was not expected to have fulfilled those consecutive engagements in the moon; the tragedian was not expected to have played Evelyn two or three hundred consecutive nights in the icy regions of the North; Fenella, the sister of Masaniello, was not refused relief because she was only a dancer, nor Masaniello himself because he was only a singer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He had nothing left to say in lieu of that great speech he might, and indisputably would, under these happiest circumstances have made, but that he wanted a grievance. Indeed, he was so utterly utter loss for a grievance that he had had serious thoughts of abandoning these festivals altogether, and taking to attending those banquets which he sometimes saw advertised to take place in the neighbourhood of Freemasons&rsquo; Hall, where he was informed that he could find all these causes of complaint ready made to his hand. Like his friend, Mr. Buckstone, however, he did not wish to indulge in any unkind expressions towards the other theatrical funds, some old and esteemed friends of his were connected with them, and as he would wish to make them also the friends of this institution. What he would suggest, afar off, was that these Funds should make some change in their constitutions adopted to the altered times, and he thought there was nothing so likely to reconcile all differences, and to do so much good to all parties, as a happy marriage.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;All he would say in his official position was that the General Theatrical Fund was progressing steadily, that they had not the slightest difficulty to state to that company, and that the institution was steadily and gallantly supported by the members of the profession. All who had the least theatrical experience must know how necessary it was to any play, in order to ensure success, that it should possess some female interest. No institution could succeed that was not backed by that influence; and, therefore, it was with great pleasure that he learned from their worthy Secretary that a large portion of the subscribers consisted of the gentler sex. Nor were they wanting there, to shed on the assembly a grace which nothing else could give to it; for whether he looked before or behind him (and here he might be allowed to say that he almost regretted, to occupy one of the posts of honour, and wished he was situated among some of his friends in a more private situation at the side of the room) &ndash;, he met with nothing but beaming faces, encouraging and gentle looks. On the part of his brother Trustees, and on his own behalf, he begged to acknowledge the toast with many thanks; and he begged to assure those present that they need not be in the least afraid, that evening, of troubling the Treasurer or the Trustees by swelling their contributions and support of the fund to any inconvenient amount; for they were perfectly ready to bear, with the utmost cheerfulness, the heaviest total with which they might think fit to burden them.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18520405</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>311</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/311</td><td>Gardeners&amp;#039; Benevolent Institution Anniversary Festival 1852</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Gardeners&amp;#039; Benevolent Institution Anniversary Festival (14 June 1852).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1852-06-14&quot;&gt;1852-06-14&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1852-06-14_Speech_Gardeners-Benevolent-Institution-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Gardeners' Benevolent Institution Anniversary Festival' (14 June 1852). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1852-06-14_Speech_Gardeners-Benevolent-Institution-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1852-06-14_Speech_Gardeners-Benevolent-Institution-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;He begged most unaffectedly and heartily to thank the company for the honour they had done him; but looking to the other toasts upon the list, he would at once proceed to say that it was important to all such charities to have the aid of efficient honorary officers who, not merely under the excitement of an occasional festival, but at all times, were prepared to do them service. Among such officers none were more important than the Vice-Presidents, and he had much pleasure in proposing their health. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-ccp-props=&quot;{&amp;quot;201341983&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335557856&amp;quot;:16777215,&amp;quot;335559739&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335559740&amp;quot;:276}&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;His office, he said, had compelled him to burst into bloom so often that he could wish there were a closer parallel between himself and the American Aloe. It was particularly agreeable and appropriate to know that the parents of the institution were to be found in the seed and nursery trade. And the seed having yielded such good fruit, and the nursery having produced such a healthy child, I have the greatest pleasure in proposing the health of &lsquo;The Nursery and Seed business &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;&ndash; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;the Parents of the Institution&rsquo;, and to couple with the toast the name of Mr. James Thompson. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;His observation of the signboards of this country, he said, had taught him that its conventional gardeners were always jolly, and always three in number.&amp;nbsp; Whether that conventionality had any reference to the three Graces, or to those very significant letters &pound;., s., d., he did not know. Those mystic letters were, how-ever, very important, and no society could have officers of more importance than its Treasurers, nor could it possibly give them too much to do.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-ccp-props=&quot;{&amp;quot;201341983&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335557856&amp;quot;:16777215,&amp;quot;335559739&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335559740&amp;quot;:276}&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>The first toast which our duty and our inclination alike prompt us to give, is the health of Her Majesty the Queen. Her Majesty often breathes the morning air in gardens; and it is not hard to imagine that there may be occasions when the results of the plain wood and iron spade, without the palace, may afford her a more agreeable relief from the cares of state than the gold and silver within. That Her Majesty has an interest in gardens we may venture to assume; and that she has a special interest in gardeners we know, in the most acceptable manner, by her having presented this institution with the sum of fifty pounds. When my friend, the late Reverend Sydney Smith was taking leave of a friend going to New Zealand, he whimsically wished that he might disagree with any cannibal who might chance to eat him ; and although myself of a pacific disposition, I should like to disagree with any foreign gentlemen who would take away my personal liberty; and I should be disposed to differ with any foreign prince, potentate, or peasant who might venture to take any liberty with my liberty. Hence, gentlemen, I always hold in great respect our Army and Navy, and not least when it is by no means inappropriate to remember that no agriculture, no commerce, no art, could long be pursued if England were unable to defend herself, to repel invasion, and to make her name, as it ought to be, a name of fear to the tyrants of the world. I beg to give you &amp;#039;The Army and Navy&amp;#039;, and to couple with that toast the name of Captain Wrench. Gentlemen, I have to offer you a toast which expresses our interest in the institution in whose behalf we are met together. I feel in reference to the institution something like a counsel for the plaintiff with nobody on the other side; but even if it had existed instead of three times three, ninety times nine years, I should still feel it my duty to trouble you with a few facts from the very short brief which has been entrusted to me, for that desperate gardener, Old Time, does so transplant and remove, as to warrant the supposition that there are always some to whom it may be desirable to state the merits of the case. The institution was founded in the year 1838; and for the first few years of its existence seems not to have been particularly robust, and to have been placed in rather a shaded position, receiving somewhat more than its needful allowance of cold water. In 1848 it was removed into a more genial situation, and grafted on to a better managerial stock where it began to blossom; and it has now borne fruit and become such a vigorous tree that, at present, thirty-five old people daily sit within the shelter of its friendly branches. It is to be observed of this institution, unlike some older and more renowned, that what it is in name it is in effect. The class for whose benefit it purports to have been devised has its full and entire advantage. All the pensioners upon the list have been veritable gardeners, or the wives of gardeners. It is managed by gardeners, and besides having upon its books this excellent rule: &lsquo;That gardeners who have contributed to the funds of the charity for fifteen years, and who from old age or misfortune become destitute, have claims upon this institution in preference to those who have never subscribed to it&rsquo;, I observe that every subscriber may be placed upon the pension list, if he will, without election, without canvass, without solicitation and as his independent right. I lay great stress upon this, because I hold that the man principle of every society such as this should be, in the first place, to help those who have helped themselves and helped others; and, secondly, to merge all considerations of its own importance in the sacred duty of relieving such persons when they fall into affliction, with the utmost possible delicacy, and without the least chance of carrying a pang to their hearts, or bringing a blush to their cheeks. That the society&amp;#039;s pensioners do not become such as long as they are reasonably able to toil is evinced by the significant fact that the average age of the present pensioners is 77. That they are not waste-fully relieved is shown by the fact that the whole sum expended for their relief does not exceed five hundred pounds a year; that no narrow confines of locality are favoured in the selection will be clear when I assure you that pensioners are to be found in every part of the country, east, west, north, and south. That the expenses of the society are not disproportionate to the society&amp;#039;s income is proved by their being all defrayed out of the annual subscriptions, while the sum at present in hand is &pound;2,700, and we mean to make it up to three thousand at least. Such is the institution which appeals to you through me as a most unworthy advocate for sympathy and support. That it has not addressed itself in vain to the employers is evident from its having for its President a nobleman whose whole possessions are remarkable for taste and beauty, and whose gardener&amp;#039;s laurels are famous throughout the world. And I notice with great pleasure, on the list of Vice-Presidents, the names of many noblemen and gentlemen of great influence and station. I am particularly struck in glancing through the pages of this little book, with the number of nurserymen and seedsmen who have contributed, and the handsome sums written against their names. It is a very worthy example. The gardeners also muster very strong, and I do hope the day will come when no one will be left out, but every decent gardener in England will feel that this society is a part of his calling, and though he may never want its aid, that it is his duty to belong to it for the sake of others who may. The gardener particularly needs such help as this society affords. His gains are not great; he often knows gold and silver better as the colours of fruit and flowers, than by their presence in his pockets; and it is easy to see how his exposure to changes of weather may render him peculiarly liable to sickness and infirmity. A gardener, of all men, should particularly appreciate the worth of such a society as this, for his continual observance of the changing seasons and declining days may well suggest to him the decline of life, and that it is a dictate both of worldly prudence and Christian kindness to provide for it. Finally, to all here who are gardeners, and to all here who are not gardeners, except as we all trace our descent in a direct line from the first &lsquo;gardener Adam and his wife&rsquo;, this institution forcibly appeals. The universality of the gardener&amp;#039;s calling is one of its greatest characteristics. If any improvement be made in Her Majesty&amp;#039;s garden, or in that of his Grace or my Lord, it is very soon transferred even to the costermonger. In the culture of flowers there cannot, by their very nature, be anything solitary or exclusive. The wind that blows over the cottager&amp;#039;s patch sweeps also over the grounds of the nobleman; and as the rain descends on the just and the unjust, so it communicates to all gardeners, both rich and poor, an interchange of pleasure and enjoyment; and the gardener of the rich man, in developing and enhancing a fruitful flower of a delightful scent is, in some part, the gardener of everybody else. Flowers are the best picture books I know; and whenever I see them lying open at the labourer&amp;#039;s door, I can always read in them that he is a better and happier man. It is not too much to say that the gardener is essential to all of us. The love of gardening is associated with all countries and all periods of time. The scholar and the statesman, men of peace and men of war, have agreed in all ages to delight in gardens. The most ancient people of the earth had gardens where there are now nothing but solitary heaps of earth. The younger ancients had crowns of flowers. In China hundreds of acres were employed in gardens. When we travel by our railways we see the weaver striving for a scrap of garden, the poor man wrestling with smoke for a little bower of scarlet runners; and those who have no ground of their own will carry on their gardens in jugs and basins. In factories and workshops, people garden; and even the prisoner is found gardening, in his lonely cell, after years and years of solitary confinement. Of the exponents of a language so universal as this, surely it then is not too much to say that the gardener who produces shapes and objects so lovely and so comforting should have some hold upon the world&amp;#039;s remembrance when he himself becomes in need of comfort? And so then, coming at last to three times three cheers for three times three years, I will call upon you to drink &lsquo;Prosperity to the Gardeners&amp;#039; Benevolent Institution&rsquo;, and I beg to couple with that toast the name of its President, the Duke of Devonshire, whose worth is written in all his deeds, and who has communicated to his title and his riches a lustre which no title and riches could confer.</td><td>18520614</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>261</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/261</td><td>Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1853</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (22 March 1853).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1853-03-22&quot;&gt;1853-03-22&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1853-03-22_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1853</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (22 March 1853).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1853-03-22_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1853&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1853-03-22_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival-1853&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;On a recent occasion, he said, they were informed that a respectable and active police officer had insinuated himself into the midst of an incorruptible election. This very intellectual person had reason to believe, from information he had received, that if he proceeded in a certain direction he would encounter a sage, between whom and himself a most mysterious and magnetic influence would arise if he laid his hand upon his nose. He obeyed these instructions, and in reply to the gesture alluded to, the sage observed, &lsquo;It is all right, but there is something more&rsquo;; whereupon the police officer repeated the necessarily cabalistic sign, which secured his admission into the mysterious region, and he took the chief magician into custody.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If he might adapt this incident, of a not very agreeable or creditable nature, to the present very agreeable and creditable occasion, he would suggest it was all right, but there was something more. Without having applied their hands to their noses, they might be said to have placed them in grateful homage on their hearts, and also to their ears in listening to those sweet sounds produced by the musicians, and which gave delight, not only in themselves, but from the generous spirit in which they were uttered. They had used their hands in making those sounds very agreeable to the management of the fund, and in acknowledging the very admirable exposition of its claims they had heard from the Chair. In reference to the Chair, he would simply say that he hoped the &lsquo;devil&rsquo;s bird-catchers&rsquo; might always be able to lime so good a bird. He was too old a bird to be caught by chaff, whether of a celestial or infernal description.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The chairman had laid the fund, under a very great obligation, and the cabalistic sign which he was advised as the next in order was, that every gentleman presented empty a wine glass in his honour. They were so fortunate in having for their president a gentleman who was the representative of a large mercantile community, and his presence afforded a graceful expression of that union of sympathy which should exist between the busy pursuits of life and its wholesome recreations. They also had in their chairman of the night one who was personally and pleasantly acquainted with the objects of their assembly. He, therefore, called up upon them to drink his health, and when they had done that, he hoped they would recollect that they were still &lsquo;something more&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18530322</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>249</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/249</td><td>Commercial Travellers&amp;#039; Schools Anniversary Dinner</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s speeches at the Commercial Travellers&amp;#039; Schools Anniversary Dinner (30 December 1854).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1854-12-30&quot;&gt;1854-12-30&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1854-12-30_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Dinner</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Commercial Travellers' Schools Anniversary Dinner' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;(30 December 1854). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1854-12-30_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Dinner&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1854-12-30_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Dinner&lt;/a&gt;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>He had, he said, omitted the toast from the proper place on the list, partly because he had been engaged with one of the officers of the institution in conversation, and partly because he connected the name of his Royal Highness Prince Albert with the charity in which his Royal Highness had always taken so deep an interest.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>I shall beg to suggest a reform in these proceedings at the outset by addressing this assembly as &lsquo;Ladies and gentlemen&rsquo;. I beg to propose to you the health of a constitutional Sovereign of a free people, the embodiment of the private virtues and public principles of the English nation &ndash; a Sovereign who in her public contact fully appreciates the national resolution never to allow the light of civilization and freedom to be quenched in the darkness of any irresponsible will on the face of the earth. Gentlemen, I give you the Queen, with all the honours. It does not require any extraordinary sagacity in a commercial assembly to appreciate the dire evils of war. The great interests of trade enfeebled by it, the enterprise of better times paralysed by it, all the peaceful arts sent down before it too palpably indicate its character and results, so that far less practical intelligence than that by which I am surrounded would be sufficient to appreciate the horrors of war. But there are seasons when the evils of peace though not so acutely felt are immeasurably greater, and when a powerful nation by admitting the right of any autocrat to do wrong sows by such complicity the seeds of its own ruin, and overshadows itself in time to come with that fatal influence which great and ambitious powers are sure to exercise over their weaker neighbours. Therefore it is, ladies and gentlemen, that the tree has not its roots in English ground from which the yard wand will be made that will measure &ndash; the mine has not its place in English soil which will supply the material of a pair of scales to weigh &ndash; the influence, that may be at stake in the war in which we are now straining all our energies. That war is at any time, and in any shape, a most dreadful and deplorable calamity we need no proverb to tell us; but it is just because it is such a calamity, and because that calamity must not for ever be impending over us at the fancy of one man against all mankind, that we must not allow that man to darken from our view the figures of peace and justice between whom and us he now interposes. Ladies and gentlemen, if ever there were a time when the true spirits of two countries were really fighting in the cause of human advancement and freedom &ndash; no matter what diplomatic notes or other nameless botherations, from number one to one hundred thousand and one, may have preceded their taking the field &ndash; if ever there were a time when noble hearts were deserving well of mankind by exposing themselves to the obedient bayonets of a rash and barbarian tyrant, it is now, when the faithful children of England and France are fighting so bravely in the Crimea. Those faithful children are the admiration and wonder of the world so gallantly are they discharging their duty; and therefore I propose to an assembly emphatically representing the interests and arts of peace, to drink the health of the Allied Armies of England and France, with all possible honours. I think it may be assumed that most of us here present know something about travelling. I do not mean in distant regions or foreign countries, although I dare say some of us have had experience in that way, but at home, and within the limits of the United Kingdom. I dare say most of us have had experience of the extinct &lsquo;fast coaches&rsquo;, the &lsquo;Wonders&rsquo;, &lsquo;Taglionis&rsquo;, and &lsquo;Tallyhos&rsquo;, of other days. I dare say most of us remember certain modest post-chaises, dragging us down interminable roads through slush and mud, to little country towns with no visible populations except half a dozen men in smock frocks smoking pipes under the lee of the Town Hall; half a dozen women with umbrellas and pattens, and a washed-out dog or so shivering under the gables to complete the desolate picture. We can all discourse, I dare say, if so minded, upon our recollections of the &lsquo;Talbot&rsquo;, the &lsquo;King&rsquo;s Head&rsquo;, or the &lsquo;Lion&rsquo; of those days. We have all been to that room on the ground floor on one side of the old inn yard, not quite free from a certain fragrant smell of tobacco, where the cruets on the sideboard were usually absorbed by the skirts of the box coats that hung from the wall, where driving-seats were laid out at every turn like so many human mantraps, where county members framed and glazed were eternally presenting that petition which somehow or other made their glory in the county, though nothing else had ever come of it. Where the Book of Roads, the first and last thing always required, was always missing, and generally wanted the first and last dozen leaves, and where one man was always arriving at some unusual hour in the night, and requiring his breakfast at a similarly singular period of the day. I have no doubt we could all be very eloquent on the comforts of our favourite hotel, wherever it was, &ndash; its beds, its stables, its vast amount of posting, its excellent cheese, its head waiter, its capital dishes, its pigeon-pies, or its 1820 port. Or possibly we could recall our chaste and innocent admiration of its landlady, or our fraternal regard for its handsome chambermaid. A celebrated dramatic critic once writing of a famous actress, renowned for her virtue and beauty, gave her the character of being &lsquo;an eminently gatherable-to-one&rsquo;s-arms, sort of person&rsquo;. Perhaps someone amongst us has borne a somewhat similar mental tribute to the charms of the ladies associated with the administration of our favourite hotel. With the travelling characteristics of later times we are all, no doubt, equally familiar. We know all about that station of which we have a clear idea although we were never there; we know that if we arrive after dark we are certain to find it half a mile from the town, where the old road is sure to have been abolished, and the new road is going to be made, where the old neighbourhood has been tumbled down, and the new one is not half built up. We know all about that porter on the platform who with the best intentions in the world cannot do anything particularly efficacious with the luggage by looking at it with that bell in his hand. We know all about that particularly short omnibus, in which one is to be doubled up to the imminent danger of the crown of one&rsquo;s hat; and about that fly, whose leading peculiarity is never to be there when it is wanted. We know, too, how instantaneously the lights of the station disappear the moment the train slips away, and about that grope to the new Railway Hotel, which will be an excellent house when the customers come, but which at present has nothing to offer but a liberal allowance of damp mortar and new lime. I record these little incidents of home travel mainly with the object of increasing your interest in the purpose of this assemblage. Every traveller has a home of his own, and he learns to appreciate it the more from his wandering. If he has no home, he learns the same lesson unselfishly by turning to the homes of other men. He may have his experiences of cheerful and exciting pleasures abroad; but home is the best, after all, and its pleasures are the most heartily and enduringly prized. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, everyone must be prepared to learn that commercial travellers as a body know how to prize those domestic relations from which their pursuits so frequently sever them; for no one could possibly invent a more delightful or more convincing testimony to the fact than they themselves afford in founding and maintaining a school for the children of deceased or unfortunate members of their own body, &ndash; those children who now appeal to you in mute but eloquent terms from the gallery. It is to support that school, founded with such high and friendly objects, so very honourable to your calling, and so useful in its solid and practical results, that we are here tonight. It is to roof that building which is to shelter the children of your deceased friends with one crowning ornament, the best that any building can have, namely a receipt stamp for the full amount of the cost. It is for this that your active sympathy is appealed to, for the completion of your own good work. You know how to put your hands to the plough in earnest as well as any men in existence, for this little book informs me that you raised last year no less a sum than eight hundred pounds; and while fully half that sum consisted of new donations to the Building Fund, I find that the regular revenue of the charity has only suffered to the extent of thirty pounds. After this I most earnestly and sincerely say that were we all authors together I might boast, if in my profession were exhibited the same unity and steadfastness I find in yours. I will not urge on you the casualties of a life of travel, or the vicissitudes of business, or the claims fostered by that bond of brotherhood which ought always to exist amongst men who are united in a common pursuit. You have already recognized those claims so nobly, that I will not presume to lay them before you in any further detail. Suffice it to say that I do not think it is in your nature to do things by halves. I do not think you could so if you tried, and I have a moral certainty that you never will try. To those gentlemen present who are not members of the travellers&rsquo; body, I will say in the words of the French proverb, &lsquo;Heaven helps those who help themselves&rsquo;. The Commercial Travellers having helped themselves so gallantly, it is clear that the visitors who come as a sort of celestial representatives ought to bring that aid in their pockets which the precept teaches us to expect from them. With these few remarks, which not even your good nature will induce me to prolong, I beg to give you as a toast, &lsquo;Success to the Commercial Travellers&rsquo; School&rsquo;. Ladies and Gentlemen, You have made me tonight the representative of so many travellers rich in all kinds of enthusiasm, in addition to my own seven poor ones, and that necessity has involved the necessity of your hearing my voice so often, that I shall confine myself to simply thanking you most sincerely for the very kind manner in which you have received my health. If the President of this Institution had been here, I should possibly have made one of the best speeches you ever heard, but as he is not here, I shall turn to the next toast on my list, the Health of your worth Treasurer, Mr. George Moore, &ndash; a name which is a synonym for integrity, enterprise, public spirit, and benevolence. He is one of the most zealous officers I ever saw in my life; he appears to me to have been doing nothing during the last week but rushing into and out of railway-carriages, and making eloquent speeches at all sorts of public dinners in favour of this charity. Last evening he was in Manchester, and this evening he comes here, sacrificing his time and convenience, and exhausting in the meantime the contents of two vast leaden inkstands, and no end of pens, with the energy of fifty bankers&rsquo; clerks rolled into one. But I clearly foresee that the Treasurer will have so much to do tonight, such gratifying sums to acknowledge, and such large lines of figures to write in his books, that I feel the greatest consideration I can show him is to propose his health without further observation, leaving him to address you in his own behalf. I propose to you, therefore, the health of Mr. George Moore, the Treasurer of this charity, and I need hardly add that it is one which is to be drunk with all the honours. So many travellers have been going up Mont Blanc lately, both in fact and in fiction, that I have heard recently of a proposal for the establishment of a company to employ Sir Joseph Paxton to take it down. Only one of those travellers, however, has been enabled to bring Mont Blanc to Piccadilly, and by his own ability and good humour so to thaw its eternal ice and snow, as that the most timid lady may ascend it twice a day &lsquo;during the holidays&rsquo;, without the smallest danger or fatigue. Mr. Albert Smith, who is present amongst us tonight, is undoubtedly &lsquo;a Traveller&rsquo;. I do not know whether he takes many orders, but this I can testify, on behalf of the children of his friends, that he gives them in the most liberal manner. We have also amongst us my friend Mr. Peter Cunningham, who is also a traveller, not only in right of his able edition of Goldsmith&rsquo;s Traveller, but in right of his admirable Handbook, which proves him to be a traveller in the right spirit through all the labyrinths of London. We have also amongst us my friend Horace Mayhew, very well known also for his books, but especially for his genuine admiration of the company at that end of the room, and who, whenever the fair sex is mentioned, will be found to have the liveliest personal interest in the conversation. Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to propose to you the health of these three distinguished visitors. They are all admirable speakers, but Mr. Albert Smith has confessed to me, that on fairly balancing his own merits as a speaker and a singer, he rather thinks he excels in the latter art. I have, therefore, yielded to his estimate of himself, and I have now the pleasure of informing you that he will lead off the speeches of the other two gentlemen with a song. Mr. Albert Smith has just said to me in an earnest tone of voice, &lsquo;What song would you recommend?&rsquo; and I replied, &lsquo;Galignani&rsquo;s Messenger&rsquo;. Ladies and gentlemen, I therefore beg to propose the health of Messrs. Albert Smith, Peter Cunningham, and Horace Mayhew, and call on the first-named gentleman for a song.</td><td>18541230</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>266</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/266</td><td>Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1855</td><td></td><td>Speeches at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (2 April 1855).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1855-04-02&quot;&gt;1855-04-02&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1855-04-02_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speeches at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner' (2 April 1855).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1855-04-02_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1855-04-02_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;He was sure, he said, that after the address they had just heard, he need say but little in proposing to them the health of their respected chairman, and prosperity to the Haymarket Theatre. If Mr. Buckstone were any ordinary chairman, he might pass the toast over without any further observations; but he was not so &ndash; he was a gentleman who had a special claim upon their regards. He could answer for it from his recollections as a boy, twenty-five years ago, how much the acting of that gentleman had enchanted him, as no doubt it then did many others, and how he went home to dream of his comicalities. When at the Adelphi, Mr. Buckstone was great in his most original boys, as he is excellent in everything. Who can forget at that time his leading home the inebriated Master Magog, the Beadle; or, in later days, his drunken man in &lt;em&gt;Presented at Court&lt;/em&gt;; or his &lt;em&gt;Rough Diamond&lt;/em&gt;, with his huge short collar and most natural account of the doings at his village home? It was gratifying to notice the progress Mr. Buckstone had made in his profession since that time, but that was not the only claim the chairman had upon them &ndash; he had always shown himself most ready to urge the claims of their benevolent fund, and to support and aid a brother actor.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Mr. Buckstone had now become a manager, and it was to be hoped that by keeping everybody and everything in their proper places, he would command that success which he so much deserved. If in the Crimea, or in the East at the theatre of war, they had met with some checks, and nothing was to be found that was required, it was gratifying to know that such was not the case at the Haymarket Theatre. If Mr. Buckstone had some slight comestibles and luxuries to present to his patrons, if he had to bring his ships upon the stage, they might depend upon it that everything good would not be found packed under 500 tons of irons, nor would he be unable to fire a shot because they had all been left somewhere where they were not wanted. It had given him great delight to witness the spirit with which Mr. Buckstone had conducted his house &ndash; to enjoy the acting of Miss Cushman, or the twinkling of the feet of the Spanish Dancers. Again, wishing them every success, he begged to propose to them &lsquo;The health of Mr. Buckstone, and success to the Haymarket Theatre&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>I dare say, gentlemen, it is within the theatrical experience of most of us that upon some occasion when we have been at the play &ndash; when everything has progressed in the most satisfactory manner &ndash;when the principle actor has been a decided favourite &ndash; when every point has been told with the people in front &ndash; when no one has had the misfortune to make one of those little mistakes which we call &lsquo;missing his tip&amp;#039; &ndash; I dare say that, within the theatrical experience of most of you, on some occasion, the act drop being down, there has unexpectedly appeared before it, on one side, a gentleman in plain clothes, with his hat feelingly clasped in both his hands, and not without some appearances of the street upon his boots &ndash; a gentleman of pale aspect insight of the audience which is partly referable to the agitation of his feelings, and partly to the strong action floating on features unprepared by the hare&rsquo;s foot &ndash; but before that gentleman has opened his lips in reference to the &lsquo;proverbial generosity of the British public&rsquo;. You immediately perceive with dismay that he has come forward to apologize. Now, I am that gentleman on the present occasion. &lsquo;Ladies and gentlemen, therefore, I am commissioned by the management to inform you that Mr. Buckstone, owing to circumstances over which he has no control, has been put up for two parts in this piece, and finds himself unable to appear in both of them at the same time. He is, at this present moment, making himself up for his favourite character &ndash; Treasurer to the General Theatrical Fund, in which arduous impersonation he has, through several successive seasons at this establishment, been sustained by your applause. He therefore finds himself unable, for the moment, to appear in that other character of Chairman, for which he would have delivered that well-known and spirit-stirring address, which would have so much affected you. In this dilemma, relying on that consideration which was never appealed to in vain &ndash; I allude to the consideration of a British audience &ndash; perhaps you will permit me to walk through Mr. Buckstone&rsquo;s part.&rsquo; Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, I have to say to you in this way, that perhaps you will allow me to state to you what Mr. Buckstone would have said. Ladies and gentlemen, on receiving from Mr. Toole the key note, &lsquo;Pray, silence &ndash; chair!&rsquo; Mr. Buckstone Would have risen to have proposed the toast of the evening, and in doing so he would have commenced by congratulating the members of the Theatrical Fund on the numerous and respectable assembly before him, testifying as it does to their sense of the merits of the institution itself, and to the fact that in the midst of wars and tumults the humanizing arts are not forgotten. Least of all, as is natural, that art, that through the means of 1 little play, has made the battles of Poitiers and Agincourt more renowned all the chroniclers and historians put together, and which &ndash; No disrespect to those &lsquo;thoughts that breathe and words that burn&rsquo;, referred to by our chairman &ndash; has done more to stir the bold English blood in a just cause, than all the parliamentary speeches that were ever delivered, than all the debates which ever made the night hideous. Surely you are not inappropriately asked to remember this object in a time of war, when it can present to you tangibly under its glowing pictures the joys of military triumph, the sorrows of defeat, the constancy of noble minds, the misfortunes and unspeakable calamities of war, and the inappreciable blessings of peace. You are besought most worthily to remember this object of maintaining and encouraging a society which comprehends every grade of actors without limitation, which is fettered by no hard restrictions or impossible conditions, which embraces all theatrical professors, high and low, equally training them to be provident before they are independent, and which succours all who are responsive to its appeal. The resources of the society become their right, so that the proudest spirit need not blush to accept its aid. Lastly, gentlemen, and in a word you are asked to help those who under trouble and difficulty have helped themselves. You want to do this in tender remembrance of those efforts which have lightened our cares and have placed us for the time in a wider and less selfish world in lieu of that which is so much with us early and late. This is the sum and substance of Mr. Buckstone&rsquo;s case if he had been able to appear in that principle character for which he is put down in the bill. At the right moment you would have heard all that fervid eloquence which belongs to the part, and would have seen all the humour connected with it thoroughly performed. As I now have the pleasure of observing Mr. Buckstone at the wing, evidently well up in the part of Treasurer, with his property documents all ready, eager to come on, I will, with your permission, leave the stage to him, merely observing that I detect mischief in his treasury eye, and I would recommend to you the caution once regularly administered at the opening of the pit doors, &lsquo;Take care of your pockets!&rsquo; I am now to propose to you &lsquo;Prosperity to the General Theatrical Fund!&rsquo;</td><td>18550402</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>91</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/91</td><td>On Thackeray Going to America</td><td></td><td>Speech given at the London Tavern ahead of William Makepace Thackeray going to America (11 October 1855).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td>Forster, John.&lt;em&gt; The Life of Charles Dickens&lt;/em&gt;. Ed. J. W. T. Ley. London: Cecil Palmer, 1928. p. 575.; &lt;em&gt;Chester Chronicle&lt;/em&gt; (20 October 1855).</td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1855-10-11&quot;&gt;1855-10-11&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=51&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=Speech&quot;&gt;Speech&lt;/a&gt;</td><td>1855-10-11_Speech_On_Thackeray_Going_to_America</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'On Thackeray Going to America' (11 October 1855). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1855-10-11_Speech_On_Thackeray_Going_to_America&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1855-10-11_Speech_On_Thackeray_Going_to_America&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;&lsquo;Dickens&rsquo;s speech gave a happy expression to the spirit that animated all, telling Thackeray not alone how much his friendship was prized by those present, and how proud they were of his genius, but offering him in the name of the tens of thousands absent who had never touched his hand or seen his face, life-long thanks for the treasures of mirth, wit, and wisdom within the yellow-covered numbers of &lt;em&gt;Pendennis &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Vanity Fair&lt;/em&gt;.&rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;&lsquo;The chairman rose, amid furiously friendly applause; he had, he said, decided that it would be the wish of everybody to avoid toasts and speech-making, and he therefore went at once to the one object of the assemblage &ndash; to propose the health of Mr. Thackeray.&rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;&lsquo;Mr. Dickens made a neat speech &ndash; a very neat speech, in his polished actor-like manner, which has but this defect, that they countenance never swerves with the words &ndash; that his superbly brilliant eye stares at you all the time with the fixed clearness of an Argand lamp. He was not fulsome in his compliments to his friend &ndash; his highest praise was, that Mr. Thackeray was &ldquo;no ordinary man,&rdquo; and he avoided, in praising a novel writing, the laudation of novel-writing, with great tact, merely saying, that he was, with his whole soul, devoted to, and proud of that art, and declaring that Thackeray was an honour, in his life, as in his writings, to that art (which is not altogether too recklessly true). Dexterously he referred to Thackeray&rsquo;s visit to America, for the purpose of paying a compliment to the Americans, who, he said, whatever motes might be noticed in their keen optics, were to be recognized as a high-spirited, advancing, intellectual, generous race, &ndash; the which people who remembered the foolish American notes, cheered as a recantation deserves to be cheered. Mr. Dickens delivered himself in a finished manner of some jokes. The table at which we were dining was horse-shoed in shape; and this table was allegorically or metaphorically pitched at Mr. Thackeray, and nailed on to him by way of securing good luck. Then, it was remembered, that though he went away by himself, he left his creations behind, which was a comfort: - &ldquo;Jeames&rdquo; could not act as his servant, and the &ldquo;snobs&rdquo; would continue to amuse us. And so on; the wit not magnificent, but sufficient; and so far so good &ndash; the speech answered its purpose; and when D., before sitting down, put his little hand into T.&rsquo;s big hand, and shook T. solemnly, and even pathetically, the room rang with applause &ndash; it was an historical picture which Tenniel was taking a note of.&rsquo;&lt;/p&gt;; 'Mr. Dickens rose and said that he would make no more speeches; speeches were a nuisance, and he called on somebody for a song.'; 'Mr. Dickens responded, to the effect that he would not make any more speeches, and called on another (idiot) for a song, which was more frightful than the last...'</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=94&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=Biography&quot;&gt;Biography&lt;/a&gt;</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=93&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=The+Life+of+Charles+Dickens&quot;&gt;The Life of Charles Dickens&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18551011</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/files/original/6/On_Thackeray_Going_to_America/1855-10-11_Speech_On_Thackeray_Going_to_America.pdf</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>316</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/316</td><td>Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival 1856</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival (17 March 1856).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1856-03-17&quot;&gt;1856-03-17&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1856-03-17_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Royal General Theatrical Fund Anniversary Festival' (17 March 1856). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1856-03-17_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1856-03-17_Speech_Royal-General-Theatrical-Fund-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;auto&quot;&gt;He would not follow, he said, the horrible example of his friend Mr. Taylor, who began by addressing the ladies, informing them that none of the other speakers had paid any regard to them, and having thus taken advantage of their unsuspecting nature to gain their willing ear, forthwith abandoned them, addressed himself to the gentlemen, and never after alluded to the ladies throughout his speech. The ladies and gentlemen present, or a large portion of them, would know that in order to make a performance go smoothly it was necessary to arrange a number of little points beforehand. Now, a little point had been arranged between Lord Tenterden and himself, which he would give the public the benefit of. Lord Tenterden had arranged for himself a speech which he had enjoined him (Mr. Dickens) not to entrench upon. It was enjoined to leave the chairman a little fat, and he was cautioned to keep to his toast. He would do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;auto&quot;&gt;He was sure they were under deep obligations to the professional ladies and gentlemen who had contributed so much towards their enjoyment that evening, and he felt it a great honour to be allowed to propose their healths.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Well remember that when the opera of Gustavus was first produced at Covent Garden, the audience found something dangerously comic in that person referring to that which was the most momentous portion of his existence &ndash; whether he should or should not go to the ball where he received his death-wound &ndash; to the walking gentleman, Mr. Baker, who had never before opened his lips, or given any sign of his existence: I forget what Mr. Baker&amp;#039;s opinion was, but the audience had no faith in him. And when Mr. Baker, who was dressed in a Court dress as the Court physician, replied to his royal master, the audience certainly were not so serious as they might have been. Now the Trustees are the Court Physicians and walking gentlemen in this place, inasmuch as we have nothing to do but to accept your thanks every year, and to acknowledge the same. My interest in this society dates from the establishment of the Fund itself. I found it, at the beginning, a plain unpretending reality, designed by actors for the benefit of actors of all degrees, gratuitously administered by actors for actors, and supported by their small earnings from year to year and from month to month. From that time to the present I find it the same, exactly what it claims and professes to be, with no kind of false pretence about it; and I do thoroughly believe it is one of the most deserving institutions in this country. I had, a few days ago, a communication from my friend and fellow Trustee, Mr. Macready, on the subject of this Fund. It arose out of that great change which has made Covent Garden a heap of ruins. That event occasioned us to remember afresh that the English drama has no home or hope of a home in that waste spot. That occasioned us to look afresh into the future, &ndash; whether there might be any claimants left on the Covent Garden Theatrical Fund; for, while it will be impossible that any new members can be made, I do indulge a hope, amounting almost to a conviction, that the accumulated wealth of that institution must ultimately flow into the coffers of this society. If it were possible, in the nature of things, that those distinguished professors of the dramatic art who are now most justly enjoying their annuities out of that fund as the result of their contributions to it, &ndash; even if it were possible to double, treble, and quadruple what they are now entitled to, we should all be delighted; but we cannot imagine, when all the purposes for which that fund was established are impossible of realization, what can become of its great capital, unless it finds its way to an institution founded for. and made accessible to. the whole dramatic profession throughout this kingdom. Having now thanked you on behalf of the Trustees for your favourable reception of their names, I will no longer stand in the way of the next toast, but thank you most gratefully for the hand-some, kind, and ready manner in which you were pleased to receive my name.</td><td>18560317</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>267</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/267</td><td>Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner 1856</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s toasts at the Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner (5 June 1856).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1856-06-05&quot;&gt;1856-06-05&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1856-06-05_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner' (5 June 1856).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1856-06-05_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1856-06-05_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>In proposing this toast, he said, he hoped it would not be at all supposed that he intended to hint that there was any connexion between a Hospital for Incurables, and the Houses of Lords and Commons. Yet it must be admitted that these houses had given symptoms of labouring under a lingering disease, with intermittent fever &ndash; with this difference, that it appeared the cold fits were very long, and the hot fits very short. Yet under the influence of gentle stimulants, the Legislature had occasionally assumed an appearance of being possessed of a strong and vigorous constitution. With the toast of the two Houses of Parliament he would couple the name of Lord Alfred Paget, who notwithstanding he had nearly met with a watery grave last night by his yacht being run down in the Channel, had been determined to be present that evening to support this great and noble charity.; &lt;p&gt;He approached the next toast, he said, with some trepidation, because he felt he could scarcely do justice to an institution which had for its object the finding a permanent home for a most deserving and afflicted class of the community. He had the high privilege to give a toast which recognized the immense social importance and the great Christian humanities of a hospital designed for the permanent care and comfort of those who, by disease, accident, or deformity, were hopelessly disqualified for the duties of life.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It was to be remembered at the outset that it was the distinguishing feature of this institution that it entered into competition with none of the existing hospitals, but came in aid of every one of them. It did appear to him somewhat extraordinary that amongst the innumerable and valuable charities of this metropolis it had been so long without an institution for the relief of those who, in their helplessness, could not be relieved by any other hospital. There was no establishment for the treatment of the sick in this city from the doors of which some unfortunate persons altogether disqualified for the duties of life, were not driven away in consequence of the impossibility there was of rendering them that assistance which their state of health required. The institution was therefore no sooner in existence than, as might be expected, numbers of the most distinguished and experienced members of the medical profession recorded their conviction of its immense usefulness; and certificates had since been signed which placed it wholly and for ever beyond dispute.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There were very many cases of great distress; of person who, brought up in a respectable position, were cut down by hopeless disease with no aid, no solace, in the dark hour of their affliction. It was to afford such a home, it was to relieve such parties that this charity was founded, and he trusted that it would grow, through the fostering care of the public, into one of the greatest of those benevolent institutions which did so much honour to the country.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Royal Hospital had scarcely achieved the second year of its existence; but nevertheless it had obtained &lsquo; a local habitation and a name&rsquo;, in one of the prettiest places in the environs of London. There was nothing about the institution which partook of sectarianism; its principle was to know no distinction in religion; and there were not forty-four patients under its protective care. It divided itself into two branches, affording, first, to those objects of charity a home for life who had no other home; and, secondly, assisting with regular donations and kind counsels such patients as had friends to relieve them in part, and give them shelter, feeling that they could not bear that sharpest pain &ndash; the separation from those they loved. The necessity for such a hospital, which he could not but observe with regret, was shown by the circumstance that at the election within the last month, for ten recipients of the advantages of the charity, there were no less than 87 candidates, many of them having particular claims on the sympathy of the benevolent.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He felt it was their duty to do everything that could be done to give these poor creatures even a chance of recovery &ndash; or, if not of recovery, of comfort in their closing days; and he trusted, therefore, that the institution would be liberally supported. In remembrance of those from whom they derived their birth; in remembrance of Him who said to the afflicted, &lsquo;Take up thy bed and walk&rsquo;; in remembrance of those whose pillows it might some day be their duty to smooth; in the name of those bright creatures upon whose breasts they hoped hereafter to rest their heads; for the love of God; for the love of man &ndash; which was one &ndash; he implored their aid on behalf of this infant institution, so that I might hereafter rank as a most beneficent giant. In conclusion he had great pleasure in proposing &lsquo;Prosperity and Perpetuity to the Royal Hospital&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18560605</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>321</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/321</td><td>Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner 1857</td><td></td><td>Speech at the Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner (21 May 1857).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1857-05-21&quot;&gt;1857-05-21&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1857-05-21_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Dickens, Charles. 'Speech at the Royal Hospital for Incurables Annual Dinner' (21 May 1857). &lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1857-05-21_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1857-05-21_Speech_Royal-Hospital-for-Incurables-Annual-Dinner&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;Dickens then gave &lsquo;The President and the Vice-Presidents&rsquo;, coupled with the name of a distinguished gentleman who was not more remarkable for his talent than he was for possessing the kindest and tenderest heart. He proposed the health of Dr. Connolly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span data-ccp-props=&quot;{&amp;quot;201341983&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335557856&amp;quot;:16777215,&amp;quot;335559739&amp;quot;:0,&amp;quot;335559740&amp;quot;:276}&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;span data-contrast=&quot;none&quot;&gt;Finally, the chairman said that although he had been invited to take the Chair on the next occasion, he should recommend a change of diet. But he would accept the office on one condition, that in the event of the City of London re-electing the best sheriff from the time of the great Whittington, he would preside over the next meeting; but if the City took anybody else he must claim his right to take his seat as a private individual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Ladies and Gentlemen, A few days ago I was called upon to fill up my proxy for the election of candidates to be admitted into the Royal Hospital &ndash; a Hospital established for the permanent care and comfort of those who by disease, accident, or deformity, are disqualified for the duties of life. Coming on that occasion to the perusal of the extended list of cases there set before me, I could not but feel &ndash; in common, I am sure, with many who are here &ndash; inexpressible pity for the vast number of persons who are in that forlorn condition. When I saw in that list no fewer than 121 cases, out of whom the subscribers to this charity at the next election can elect but ten, I thought, with a kind of despair, not only of the 111 who must suffer by rejection, but of the great crowd of incurables dispersed about this country of whom this society has never so much as heard, and who will never hear of it. Having that morning been busy about my own country rest and recreation, I could not but strongly feel the contrast between myself &ndash; then in the full enjoyment of health and the use of all my limbs &ndash; and that of so many of my fellow creatures, until I was glad to put this list aside, and make my escape from the reflections to which it gave rise. In one of my recent walks, I found myself in a pretty village in Surrey, which I had indeed often proposed to visit before, but had only paved the dusty road with good intentions &ndash; as I am sorry to say I have paved a worse place with a great deal of the same material &ndash; but on this morning I really found myself at the place. I inquired of a labourer for a house I wanted, and he told me, &lsquo;When you can&rsquo;t go any further, turn to your left, and there you&rsquo;ll see a house with some writing wrote on the outside, which they tell me is its name; but you&rsquo;ll know, because you can read, and I can&rsquo;t read.&rsquo; At last I found it, and was shown into an agreeable sitting-room, which might be called a library. One sick man was lying on a sofa, and as soon as he saw me he opened the conversation, doing, as it were, the honours of the place. We spoke of the usual topics, talked of the weather, of our common enemy, the late wind, and of the progress of the crops, in the most pleasant and agreeable manner. He told me that that spot was above the cross of St. Paul&rsquo;s &ndash; a fact of which he seemed excessively proud &ndash; and was altogether quite as cheerful as I was, or as I am. As I went upstairs, I got pleasant glimpses of the grounds, and of persons walking about in them, and met another sick man, quite as anxious for the arrival of dinner time as any of us in the London Tavern, and insisting that the cook&rsquo;s clock must be ten minutes slow. I went upstairs into another sitting-room, where were a number of sick women of various ages grouped about on sofas and chairs, engaged in various feminine tasks, and all talking and smiling as they went on. There was one poor paralytic creature busy at her embroidery, delighted to have her work admired, and I could not help feeling great admiration that anything so orderly and straight could come out of a form so warped and cruelly afflicted. I very much doubt whether she was ever more contented in her whole life. Another woman, much older, having only a thumb and two fingers left to work with, was plodding away at her work, and very proud of what she was able to accomplish with such an imperfect complement of digits. She told me, that in her old healthy days she thought there was no greater pleasure than to sit and read all day, but that would not do now, and she had taken to this work for relief and comfort, and she had found relief and comfort here very much. One old lady, who said she had been awake all night, in great pain and trouble, was nevertheless wonderfully conversable and talkative. She said she was very comfortable on the whole; but had a certain tendency to revert to the subject of rheumatism (and no wonder). In another and smaller room there was an old lady who said she was seventy-five years of age, but she was determined to persevere, which I told her I thought was a capital thing to do. Two other young women, evidently enduring much bodily suffering, had a pleasant consciousness of good looks, and showed a desire to make the most of them. I declare to you that in all these people &ndash; and all the inmates of this house whom I saw &ndash; there was not only a hopefulness of manner, but a serenity of face, a cheerfulness and social habit that perfectly amazed me. And this was the Royal Hospital, and these its incurable inmates. Ladies and gentlemen, while I congratulated myself, as I need hardly tell you I did that morning most heartily, that this institution was able to give so much relief to sufferers in such very hopeless cases, I must not deceive you as to the Royal Hospital itself. It is not by any means what it ought to be. Its present temporary establishment is in a very inconvenient old house, by no means suitable, with rooms not half high enough, and not half ample enough. The beds are much too crowded together, and I [should] say ventilation is exceedingly difficult. The furniture is excessively inadequate to the requirements of the establishment; and a great number of appliances are needed which healthy people would, perhaps, call mawkish, but are of the gravest importance in the presence of sickness. In one comprehensive word, it wants money; and for that money, ladies and gentlemen, in the name of Christian charity, I have undertaken to appeal to you. I cannot possibly make this appeal sufficiently strong for my own satisfaction; but if I only rested it on this one consideration, that there is no hospital in London or throughout England to which this Royal Hospital is not a natural and necessary adjunct it would, I am sure, not be made in vain. The stronger the case for any of those excellent institutions which you may most favour, the stronger is this case. Every hospital knows what it is to be obliged to discharge incurable patients for whom it can do no more, and whom it cannot retain, and every member of the most generous and devoted of all professions &ndash; the medical profession &ndash; knows what it is to contemplate with pain the heartrending spectacle of those weary ones turning away from the friendly shelter of the infirmary, without any suitable resting-place, and in all probability to lay themselves down at the door of the poor-house. We know the goodness of the poor, and their readiness to help one another on all occasions. But if we do all we can to relieve them of the burden of incurable sufferers, we shall still leave them field enough for the exercise of their utmost virtues.  I will not distress you by imagining what must be the conditions of these unhappy sufferers, lodged in hot and crowded attics, or what must be the misery which their presence brings to others; I will only end, as I began, by referring you to the list of applicants for admission at the next election. We live in an age of elections &ndash; at one time or another we almost all apply to be elected into clubs for pleasure or for profit &ndash; into great corporations, the House of Commons, and what not; and three-fourths of us associate our ambition with an election of some sort or other. Within how small a compass lies the ambition of these 121 applicants! If one of this number could but make an audible address to you here at this table, instead of me, how touchingly might he say, &lsquo;Health has departed from us for ever &ndash; our place in the struggle for bread has been filled up by others, and we have faintly dropped out of the course. Give us only a quiet home, where we may endure what yet we have to undergo, and where, by our patient manner and our brightened faces, we may somewhat reward your kind interest on our behalf.&rsquo; Once they were busy and strong, but now they are hopelessly disqualified for the duties of life; let us discharge the first of these, and provide for them a resting-place, where they may be sheltered and cared for in their irremovable afflictions. I am sure we shall not reject their prayers, and that the time will come when this Hospital shall be nobly and bountifully endowed, so that no other qualification will be needed to ensure entrance within its walls but the presence of incurable disease. I call upon you to drink prosperity to the Royal Hospital.</td><td>18570521</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>275</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/275</td><td>Warehousemen and Clerks&amp;#039; Schools Fourth Anniversary Dinner</td><td></td><td>Speech and toasts at the Warehousemen and Clerks&amp;#039; Schools Fourth Anniversary Dinner (5 November 1857).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1857-11-05&quot;&gt;1857-11-05&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1857-11-05_Speech_Warehousemen-and-Clerks-Schools-Fourth-Anniversary-Dinner</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Speech and toasts at the Warehousemen and Clerks' Schools Fourth Anniversary Dinner' (5 November 1857).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1857-11-05_Speech_Warehousemen-and-Clerks-Schools-Fourth-Anniversary-Dinner&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1857-11-05_Speech_Warehousemen-and-Clerks-Schools-Fourth-Anniversary-Dinner&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;He should, he said, do nothing so superfluous and so unnecessary as to descant upon his lordship&rsquo;s many faithful, long, and great public services, upon the honour and integrity with which he had pursued his straightforward public course through every difficulty, or upon the manly, gallant, and courageous character which rendered him certain, in the eyes alike of friends and opponents, to rise with every rising occasion, and which, like the seal of Solomon in the old Arabian story, enclosed in a not very large casket the soul of a giant. &ndash; He felt perfectly certain that that would be the response; for in no English assembly that he had ever seen was it necessary to do more than mention the name of Lord John Russell to ensure a manifestation of personal respect and grateful remembrance.&lt;/p&gt;
It being his pride and privilege to enroll the subject of the toast among his personal friends, he should take an early opportunity of telling him that he was not forgotten at the anniversary.; He observed that under circumstances of the greatest difficulty, Mr. Russell had written descriptions of the Crimean campaign which rivalled in their brilliancy the greatest productions of the greatest novelists, and equalled in their fidelity and their regard for truth &ndash; as he had often heard testified by the best authorities &ndash; the most scholarly productions of the most deliberate historians. In giving them the toast of the Press, he said, it was very much the same thing as if he had asked them to drink to his own family. He was almost born and bred to the Press, his earliest working years having been passed in the House of Commons, and he must be base indeed, or have a very much shorter memory than he believed he possessed, if anything that concerned its honour or reputation could be indifferent to him, or if it were not one of the foremost efforts of his life to do anything he could to uphold its character.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>When I have the honour to fill this or any similar place, I never lend my poor aid to uphold the preposterous fiction that the brightest part of creation are not present, and that the starts of the firmament on my right, which shine upon our waking and sleeping dreams, are not distinctly visible in the sky. It seems to me the most inconsistent and ridiculous of all customs, when we are come to propose the first lady of the land, to forget that ladies are present; and I, therefore, setting an example, trust and hope that you will follow that example, when I address you as ladies and gentlemen. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to offer you a toast which includes a great deal more than the two syllabic words in themselves; which, whilst they express our loyalty towards the lady who rules England, hardly expresses its loyalty to the ladies who rule us. We most happily associate the institutions under which we live with the domestic virtues and happiness of a lady who is at once the boast of the country and of our homes, &lsquo;Her Majesty the Queen&rsquo;. Ladies and Gentlemen, In this great commercial city, heaped up with riches on every side, to which hungry eyes are sometimes turned across the sea, those two great services the Army and Navy, even in times of profoundest peace, should never be forgotten. But I am sure you will agree with me that in these so different times they should in our &lsquo;flowing cups&rsquo;, be freshly remembered; remembered in connexion with the recent acts of gallantry that have won the admiration of the world; remembered in intimate connexion with a manly composure in the face of pestilence, and a Christian resignation under the shadow of death, only the be equalled by the modestly, gentleness, and the perfect and profound self-command always attendant upon their great bravery. I understand that there happens to be no officer of either service here to acknowledge my toast. It occurs to me, however, that this matters very little, for throughout the civilized world the members of both are at this moment practically thanking us. Wherever duty is to be done, they are thanking us; wherever fame and honour are to be gained, they are thanking us; wherever the sun shines they are thanking us; aye, even where the sun does not shine &ndash; in the long night of a polar winter &ndash; one of those services at least is now thanking us with a most eloquent speech. Ladies and gentlemen, I beg to propose &lsquo;The Army and Navy&rsquo;. I must now solicit your attention for a few minutes to the cause of your assembling together &ndash; the main and real object of the evening&rsquo;s gathering; for I suppose we are all agreed that the motto of these tables is not &lsquo;Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die&rsquo;; but, &lsquo;Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we live&rsquo;. It is because a great and good work is to live &lsquo;tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow&rsquo;, and to live a greater and better life with every succeeding tomorrow, that we eat and drink here at all. Conspicuous on the card of admission to this dinner, and on the title-page of this little book descriptive of the institution, is the word &lsquo;Schools&rsquo;. This set me thinking this morning, before I turned these pages about, what are the sorts of schools that I don&rsquo;t like. I found them, on consideration, to be rather numerous. I don&rsquo;t like to begin with &ndash; and to begin, as charity does, at home &ndash; I don&rsquo;t like the sort of school to which I once went myself, the respected proprietor of which was by far the most ignorant man I have ever had the pleasure to know, who was one of the worst-tempered men perhaps that ever lived, whose business it was to make as much out of us and to put as little into us as possible, and who sold us at a figure which I remember we used to delight to estimate, as amounting to exactly &pound;2. 4s. 6d. a head. I don&rsquo;t like that sort of school, because I don&rsquo;t see what business the master had to be at the top of it instead of the bottom, and because I never could understand the wholesomeness of the moral preached by the abject appearance and degraded condition of the teachers who plainly said to us by their looks every day of their lives, &lsquo;Boys, never be learned; whatever you are, above all things, be warned from that in time by our sunken cheeks, by our poor pimply noses so cruelly eruptive in the frosty mornings, by our meagre diet, by our acid beer, and by our extraordinary suits of clothes, of which no human being can say whether they are snuff-coloured turned black, or black turned snuff-coloured, a point upon which we ourselves are perfectly unable to offer any ray of enlightenment, it is so very long since they were undarned and new&rsquo;. I do not like that sort of school, because I have never yet lost my ancient suspicion touching that curious coincidence that the boy with four brothers to come always got the prizes. In fact, and in short, I do not like that sort of school, which is a pernicious and abominable humbug altogether. Again, ladies and gentlemen, I don&rsquo;t like that sort of school &ndash; a ladies&rsquo; school &ndash; with which the other school used to dance on Wednesdays, where the young ladies, as I look back upon them now, seem to me always to have been in new stays and disgrace &ndash; the disgrace chiefly concerning a place of which I know nothing at this day, that bounds Timbuctoo on the north-east &ndash; and where memory always depicts the youthful enthraller of my first affection as for ever standing against a wall, in a curious machine of wood, which confined her innocent feet in the first dancing position, while those arms, which should have encircled my jacket, those precious arms, I say, were pinioned behind her by an instrument of torture called a backboard, fixed in the manner of a double direction post. Again, I don&rsquo;t like that sort of school, of which we have a notable example in Kent, which was established ages ago by worthy scholars and good men long deceased, whose munificent endowments have been monstrously perverted from their original purpose, and which, in their distorted condition, are struggled for and fought over with the most indecent pertinacity. Again, I don&rsquo;t like that sort of school &ndash; and I have seen a great many such in these latter times &ndash; where the bright childish imagination is utterly discouraged, and where those bright childish faces, which it is so very good for the wisest among us to remember in after life, when the world is too much with us early and late, are gloomily and grimly scared out of countenance; where I have never seen among the pupils, whether boys or girls, anything but little parrots and small calculating machines. Again, I don&rsquo;t by any means like schools in leather breeches, and with mortified straw baskets for bonnets, which file along the streets in long melancholy rows under the escort of that surprising British monster, a beadle, whose system of instruction, I am afraid, but too often presents that happy union of sound with sense, of which a very remarkable instance is given in a grave report of a trustworthy school inspector, to the effect that a boy in great repute at school for his learning, presented on his slate, as one of the ten commandments, the perplexing prohibition, &lsquo;Thou shalt not commit doldrum&rsquo;. Ladies and gentlemen, I confess, also, that I don&rsquo;t like those schools, even though the instruction given in them be gratuitous, where those sweet little voices which ought to be heard speaking in very different accents, anathematize by rote any human being who does not hold what is taught there. Lastly I do not like, and I did not like some years ago, cheap distant schools, where neglected children pine from year to year under an amount of neglect, want, and youthful misery far too sad even to be glanced at in this cheerful assembly. And now, ladies and gentlemen, perhaps you will permit me to sketch in a few words the sort of school that I do like. It is a school established by the members of an industrious and useful order, which supplies the comforts and graces of life at every familiar turning in the road of our existence; it is a school established by them for the Orphan and Necessitous Children of their own brethren and sisterhood; it is a place giving an education where, while the beautiful history of the Christian religion is daily taught, and while the life of that Divine Teacher who Himself took little children on His knees is daily studied, no sectarian ill will nor narrow human dogma is permitted to darken the face of the clear heaven which they disclose. It is a children&rsquo;s school, which is at the same time no less a children&rsquo;s home, a home not to be confided to the care of cold or ignorant strangers, nor, by the nature of its foundation, in the course of ages to pass into hands that have as much natural right to deal with it as with the peaks of the highest mountains or with the depths of the sea, but to be from generation to generation administered by men living in precisely such homes as those poor children have lost; by men always bent upon making that replacement, such a home as their own dear children might find a happy refuge in if they themselves were taken early away. And I fearlessly ask you, is this a design which has any claim to your sympathy? Is this a sort of school which is deserving of your support. This is the design, this is the school, whose strong and simple claim I have to lay before you tonight. I must particularly entreat you not to suppose that my fancy and unfortunate habit of fiction has anything to do with the picture I have just presented to you. It is a sober matter of fact. The Warehousemen and Clerks&rsquo; Schools, established for the maintaining, clothing, and educating of the Orphan and Necessitous Children of those employed in the wholesale trades and manufactures of the United Kingdom, are, in fact, what I have just described. These schools for both sexes were originated only four years ago. In the first six weeks of the undertaking the young men themselves and quite unaided, subscribed the large sum of &pound;3,000. The schools have been opened only three years, they have now on their foundation thirty-nine children, and in a few days they will have six more, making a total of forty-five. They have been most munificently assisted by the heads of great mercantile houses, numerously represented, I am happy to say, around me, and they have a funded capital of almost &pound;14,000. This is wonderful progress, but the aim must still be upwards, the motto always &lsquo;Excelsior&rsquo;. You do not need to be told that five-and-forty children can form but a very small proportion of the Orphan and Necessitous Children of those who have been entrusted with the wholesale trades and manufactures of the United Kingdom: you do not need to be informed that the house at New Cross, rented for a small term of years, in which the schools are at present established, can afford but most imperfect accommodation for such a breadth of design. To carry this good work through the two remaining degrees of better and best, there must be more work, more co-operation, more friends, more money. Then be the friends, and give the money. Before I conclude, there is one other feature in these schools which I would commend to your special attention and approval. Their benefits are reserved for the children of subscribers; that is to say, it is an essential principle of the institution that it must help those whose parents have helped them, and that the unfortunate children whose father has been so lax, or so criminal, as to withhold a subscription so exceedingly small that when divided by weeks it amounts to only threepence weekly, cannot, in justice, be allowed to jostle out and shoulder away the happier children, whose father has had that little forethought, or done that little kindness which was requisite to secure for them the benefits of the institution. I really cannot believe that there will long be any such defaulting parents. I cannot believe that any of the intelligent young men who are engaged in the wholesale houses will long neglect this obvious, this easy duty. If they suppose that the objects of their love, born or unborn, will never want the benefits of the charity, that may be a fatal and blind mistake &ndash; it can never be an excuse, for, supposing them to be right in their anticipation, they should do what is asked for the sake of their friends and comrades around them, assured that they will be the happier and the better for the deed. Ladies and gentlemen, this little &lsquo;labour of love&rsquo; of mine is now done. I most heartily wish that I could charm you now not to see me, not to think of me, not to hear me &ndash; I most heartily wish that I could make you see in my stead the multitude of innocent and bereaved children who are looking towards these schools, and entreating with uplifted hands to be let in. A very famous advocate once said, in speaking of his fears of failure when he had first to speak in court, being very poor, that he felt his little children tugging at his skirts, and that recovered him. Will you think of the number of little children who are tugging at my skirts, when I ask you, in their names, on their behalf, and in their little persons, and in no strength of my own, to encourage and assist this work? This is the fifth day of November &ndash; this is a very notorious and inauspicious a day to be publicly exhibited in a chair. And I must confess that I have several times this evening felt upon me an irresistible impulse to look about me on the table for my lantern and matches. I am, however, at this moment reassured by the circumstance that I have no mask to fall off; that I am exactly what you see me, deeply penetrated by your great enthusiasm in my behalf; that I am heartily obliged to you for your great kindness, and that you are most cordially welcome to my small services.</td><td>18571105</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>269</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/269</td><td>Playground and General Recreation Society Anniversary Festival 1858</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s speeches at the Playground and General Recreation Society Anniversary Festival (1 June 1858).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1858-06-01&quot;&gt;1858-06-01&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1858-06-01_Speech_Playground-and-General-Recreation-Society-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Chairman's speeches at the Playground and General Recreation Society Anniversary Festival' (1 June 1858).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1858-06-01_Speech_Playground-and-General-Recreation-Society-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1858-06-01_Speech_Playground-and-General-Recreation-Society-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;It was, he said, highly appropriate that the voice of a society whose chief object was the welfare of little children, and in promoting innocent amusement among them, should first be heard in proposing the health of a monarch endeared to them all, not only by the ties of loyalty, but by more graceful bonds of affection, as a devoted wife and tender mother.&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;The Society, he said, under whose auspices they met that evening, was established through the exertions of a very eminent, a very active, and a highly serviceable London incumbent, a gentleman then present &ndash; though his modesty had removed him from him &ndash; and who was now in his eye, as he doubted not he was in their remembrance. The society was also very much indebted to other Christian ministers of all denominations for much of the success it had already attained; and, therefore, he had much pleasure in proposing &lsquo;The Church&rsquo;, coupling with it the name of the Rev. Dr. Irons, and the Christian ministers of all denominations who truly exerted themselves for general instruction and general good.&lt;/p&gt;; &lt;p&gt;He alluded, amidst much laughter, to the games sometimes performed in the political playground, which he said were not very improving or intelligent, and led to boys occasionally attempting &lsquo;over&rsquo; posts which they had much better have left alone.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>Gentlemen, if you will allow me to recall the little train of familiar incidents through which I took a stroll from my own house within these last two or three hours, perhaps it will as aptly introduce the business we have in hand as a much more elaborate and a much more tiresome introduction. You must know that I have still at home one very dear young child who has not arrived at years of sufficient discretion to go to school in Germany or France with his brothers; who lives on terms of personal hostility towards all the cats in the neighbouring gardens, and who invents cats besides for the excitement of a Scotch terrier. These two &ndash; the English child and the Scotch dog &ndash; perpetually flying in and out of the garden-door in a sort of poetical rapture of cats, worry me very much more than I ever saw them worry any other living thing; for, indeed, they only seek a pretext for being constantly in motion, and are innocent of all harm. This very afternoon, a few hours ago, they were so strongly under the influence of this fury of cats, that I, sitting in my own room, endeavouring with a heavy heart to consider my present responsibilities, found myself unable to collect my sense by any means. So I resolved to go out for a short stroll. The first thing I saw, when I went out of my own door, was a policeman hiding among the lilac trees apparently lying in wait for some burglar or murderer, After observing him with great dread and anxiety for a minute or two, I was much relived to find that the object of his vigilance was nothing worse than a hoop, which he presently took into custody, and carried off to the station-house. Now, my way happened to lie through trees of the leading squares. In the first square I encountered a company of seven little boys, each boy carrying a boy much larging than himself, an old pickle-bottle, and a very home-made fishing rod; with which impediments they were fagging up to Hampstead ponds, where I should judge that the party would scarcely arrive in time to tumble in before dark. I found the dignity of the second square, which is a highly genteel one, very much impaired by its having the game of hop-scotch chalked all over its pavement; and here too I found my own personal dignity suffered some little detriment through my becoming, without my own consent, the centre-point or pivot of a dodging game between two boys who evaded each other around me, and lunged at each other before me and made no more account of me than if I were a sort of moving post or pillar. Coming to the long hackney-coach stand in that neighbourhood, I found the waterman in a state of red-heat and ire, because they children&rsquo;s shuttlecocks were flying about the horses&rsquo; ears, and because a train of little creatures, hailing an imaginary &lsquo;Bal-loon!&rsquo; were filing in and out among his water-tubs. In the third square I arrived in time to dry the tears and relieve the distresses of two diminutive little creatures, the prey of a third diminutive little creature, a size larger, who, in default of having anything else to play with, had taken off their caps, and thrown them down an area. And so I arrived in the course of time at Lincoln&rsquo;s Inn Fields, where I positively seemed to find myself in an enemy&rsquo;s country; prodigious and awful spikes being stuck into the posts of that neighbourhood for the impalement of the youth of London; and three distinct rushes taking place while I was there on the part of an officer in a gold-laced hat, and armed with a drawn cane, who drove before him a flying cloud of boys and girls, and pursued them with horrible menaces. Thus I happily arrived at last in the haven where you now behold me, meditating very much upon the great need there is, in London and in all large towns, of place for the children to play in; and considering with what a determined self-assertion nature declares that play they must, and play they will, somewhere or other, under whatsoever circumstances of difficulty. Now, gentlemen, in the main, I quite agree with the reverend doctor who just now so eloquently expressed himself; but I begin with children, because we all began as children; and I confine myself to children tonight, because the child is the father of the man. Some majestic minds out of doors may, for anything I know, and certainly for anything I care, consider it a very humdrum and low proceeding to stop, in a country full of steam-engines, power-looms, big ships, monster mortars, and great guns of all sorts, to consider where the children are to play. Nevertheless, I know that the question is a very kind one, and a very necessary one. The surgeon and the recruiting sergeant will tell you with great emphasis, that the children&rsquo;s play is of immense importance to a community in the development of bodies; the clergyman, the schoolmaster, and the moral philosopher, in all degrees, will tell you with no less emphasis, that the children&rsquo;s play is of great importance to a community in the development of minds. I venture to assert that there can be no physical health without play; and there can be no efficient and satisfactory work without play; that there can be no sound and wholesome thought without play. A country full of dismal little old men and women who had never played would be in a mighty bad way indeed; and you may depend upon it that without play, and good play, too, those powerful English cheers which have driven the sand of Asia before them, and made the very ocean shake, would degenerate into a puling whimper, that would be the most consolatory sound that can possibly be conceived to all the tyrants on the face of the earth. Now, gentlemen, great towns constantly increasing about us, as the national trade and prosperity increase; houses constantly crowding together and continually accumulating; and the fields being always put at an always increasing distance from the great mass of the people; it becomes a very serious question where the children shall play, and how they shall grow up into men and women who must have played, or it would have been better for them and for all of us that they had never been born. The great importance of this question, in its many aspects both of humanity and policy, so strongly suggested itself to that gentleman who has been several times mentioned tonight &ndash; the Rev. Mr. Laing &ndash; so strongly suggested itself to him, not yet a year ago, that he conceived the idea of establishing a Playground Society; in other words a combination of certain ladies and gentlemen of some influence and position who, being agreed on the main question, should resolve to advance it by all means in their power. This infant society began by corresponding with the governing authorities in several large towns, and with other persons in position, with a view to ascertain their opinion. It also sought to elicit the opinion of that great mover of all opinion, the press. A cordial support of the principle, and an earnest approval of it, were, I believe, unanimously accorded. The Society then endeavoured, as Mr. Slaney has intimated, to impress upon the owners of lands the great benefit they would render to the country by sometimes conceding small gifts of open places for this benevolent purpose. Mr. Slaney himself, ever foremost in such good objects, brought in a Bill to facilitate the legal transfer of such lands, which Bill I have some reason to hope will pass without opposition. The Chief Commissioner of Public Works has further signified his approval that what are called &lsquo;School Treats&rsquo; shall be allowed to be held in the easily accessible public parks, in certain parts of them set apart for that good purpose. The Society has also been in communication with the Government, and it hopes with some good effect, towards the reservation of Smithfield as a place of children&rsquo;s recreation. In a word, it has by every means in its power, during its brief existence of eight or nine months, cleared and paved the way for the distinct and plain proposal which I have to make to you. Everybody says, &lsquo;Begin this good and necessary work by all means&rsquo;; but nobody begins it. It is indeed extremely difficult to begin. We must remember that it is much more difficult in the present than it will be in the future, because the present finds the houses closely clustered together and the towns increased, whereas it is to be hoped that the future will find open spaces reserved, before the houses are agglomerated, and before the towns are so densely grown; and it is easy to understand that it is far more easy not to build houses up, than to find them built up, and have to pay for them and pull them down. The work, then, is very difficult to begin. Yes. But how difficult is it to begin? Now, we happen to know that a playground in the populous Metropolitan district of St. Pancras, or in Marylebone Parish, somewhere in the close neighbourhood about Manchester Square, would cost perhaps &pound;1,000. There are two earnest and munificent ladies known to this Society, one of whom will give towards the St. Pancras experiment &pound;100, and one of whom will give towards the Marylebone experiment &pound;100, if other people will be liberal in their degree, and according to the extent of their power, and subscribe the rest. This is, in fact, the Society&rsquo;s first report; and what I am to do tonight, is to entreat your help that the experiment may be made. There is no kind of castle-building, observe, in the case. The Society does not ask you for the vague and indefinite means of constructing fifty possible playgrounds or five hundred impossible playgrounds: it asks you for the clearly defined and ascertained means of proving the justice of their case by one experiment, and only one, I will only trouble you by observing further, that of the success of the experiment, if practically and wisely carried out; of its being followed by innumerable imitations, and of its doing an incalculable amount of good; I myself have hardly a doubt. I believe, as Mr. Slaney has said, that the poor people would gladly even pay for a playground near to their own dwellings where they knew their children would be safe, under just so much supervision, and no more, as should exclude gross language, corrupting habits, and the demoralization and vagabondism of the streets. We have made, as we all know, very great improvement in respect of our public parks; but they are obviously and unavoidably too far distant from many little legs and many little arms, encumbered with the weight of little brothers and sisters; and I think the domestic tenderness and household consideration evinced in this very idea of the playground would win over the parents who have experience of this truth every day, and would attract their confidence immediately. I will not enter into the question whether the Playground Society shall aspire to add to its name the title of &lsquo;General Recreation Society&rsquo;, and to provide cheap indoor amusements for the young. I confess I am not myself quite clear upon that point. I have some individual doubt whether it might not become a little too wise, and whether, taking too deliberate an aim at these young birds, it might not blow them away with an overcharge of instruction. But that is no part of the question tonight. The question I have to put to you &ndash; leaving you to supply all its need of attendant considerations, of humanity, kindness, compassion, justice, and policy, for the present, and especially for the future &ndash; the question I have to put to you, and through you to the public, is, whether the case shall be proved or disproved, and whether this one experiment shall be tried or not tried? I beg to propose you to drink, &lsquo;Prosperity to the Playground Society&rsquo;.</td><td>18580601</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>250</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/250</td><td>Commercial Travellers&amp;#039; Schools Anniversary Festival</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s speeches at the Commercial Travellers&amp;#039; Schools Anniversary Festival (22 December 1859).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1859-12-22&quot;&gt;1859-12-22&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1859-12-22_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Commercial Travellers' Schools Anniversary Festival' (22 December 1859)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1859-12-22_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1859-12-22_Speech_Commercial-Travellers-Schools-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;They were sometimes told, he said, as if it were a new discovery, that war was the greatest of all evils. Now, he thought he preferred no high claim on the intelligence of this company when he said they all knew it to be so. Common humanity taught them to regard war as an unparalleled calamity. So strongly rooted was this feeling in the English mind, that it might truly be said that the popular voice was almost always for peace, and always attached enormous responsibility to any men in power who, for selfish ends, should be the first to &lsquo;cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war&rsquo;. But the next greatest sin to such an act was that of any men who accepted the responsibility of government and left the people ill prepared to resist aggressive war. It was because they who sat there were devoted to the arts and ways of peace, and because they exhibited all the signs of outward prosperity, that he congratulated them upon the manly and national spirit which was then stirring amongst them as well as amongst our professed defenders by sea and land.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We Englishmen uttered no defiance, no braggart boast, against any nation on the face of the earth, but wished quietly to keep our own; and, with the blessing of heaven, which helped those who helped themselves, they would most assuredly do it. The plain meaning of the Rifle movement was but the revival of the old brave spirit of our forefathers, and a proof that all who had a stake in the country &ndash; and who that had life in it had not? &ndash; were ready if occasion required to fight and die in its defence. On that account, he would, with their permission, slightly alter the toast about the be proposed, and give &lsquo;The Army and Navy, and the Volunteers&rsquo;.&lt;/p&gt;; He was told, he said, that it was once observed by a lady who kept a commercial boarding-house in the neighbourhood of the Monument, named Mrs. Todgers, that no such strong passion existed in the human breast as that of commercial gentlemen for gravy. She said, as he had been informed, and had reason to believe true, that it was her opinion that no animal known to butchers or experienced housekeepers would yield from any of its joints the amount of gravy that was called for by the peculiarity of the commercial palate. The anxiety, and mental agony that this most estimable lady had undergone from this single cause was sufficient to undermine the strongest constitution. With this lady&rsquo;s experience and responsibilities heavy on his soul, he was thrown into a gloomy state of feeling when the duties and responsibilities of this eventful day loomed and darkened upon him. He was disturbed by the amount of oratorical gravy which he knew would be expected from the head of the table, and his sorrows were aggravated by his own personal knowledge of the inadequacy of the supply. It was very small comfort for him to remember that the last time he had the honour to fill that place the guests were most kind and considerate. He could not banish the shadow of &lsquo;Todgers&rsquo;s&rsquo;, nor get rid of the horrors of that lady&rsquo;s experience of what gravy was to a commercial man. In short he was dreadfully perplexed to know how he should act upon the present occasion. In this disturbed state of mind he had made several forlorn attempts to get material for a speech. He had looked through the advertisement pages of Bradshaw, and asked himself whether anything could be done with those inviting advertisements of hotels in which were offered, at fixed charges, bed, breakfast, and attendance, with the additional advantages of perfect solitude and an Italian atmosphere. He had asked himself, despondingly, the question whether anything apropos might be got out of the unfortunate porter who sat up all night, and who never went to bed in the day time. He had then started off by express train of remembrances to another and much larger hotel at Leeds, where he had happened to be staying about seven weeks before, where the chamber appurtenances belonged to a period far anterior to the present, and where the night candles were nothing less than mutton truncheons of most exaggerated proportions, and could not by any possibility be blown out.; He went on to ask permission to propose the health of a gentleman to whom the institution, the progress of which they were met to celebrate, was more indebted than to any other creature, and to whose zeal and liberality much of its success was owing. He proposed &lsquo;The health of Mr. George Moore, the Treasurer&rsquo;. He must say, in passing, that he was the commercial giant, who would accompanied him on the occasion to which he had referred, but he himself could never be Jack, for he could neither deceive or kill such a giant on any account.</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>In that hotel I had seen many members of the present company, next morning, brushing their coats in the hall, and I then considered whether anything could be done with the word Travellers; and I thought whether any fanciful analogy could be drawn between those travellers who diffuse the luxuries and necessities of existence, and those who carry into desert places the waters of life, such as Dr. Livingstone, or Captain McClintock and his bold companions, who have graved the record of English modesty, gallantry and perseverance in the everlasting ice surrounding the North Pole. This put into my mind the fact that the best and greatest of these travellers have usually been amongst the gentle and mildest of men. I then asked myself whether I could make any fanciful parallel between my friend Mr. Layard, who brought to light the hidden memorials of a long extinct people, and my friend Mr. George Moore, who sits beside me, who has brought to light the hidden capabilities of a great trade. Not deriving any comfort from these ingenious speculations, I resolved, like the heroes in the fairy tales, to go out to seek my fortune; and I resorted to a friendly giant &ndash; a commercial giant &ndash; and we sallied out together only yesterday. We travelled on and on, very like the people in the fairy tales, until we came to a great castle of a bright red colour, looking perfectly glorious in the cold sunlight of a winter afternoon. We were received, not by one of those conventional monsters with a great eye in his forehead as large as six, but by a man with an extremely humorous expression of countenance and two bright eyes, under whose guidance we inspected the livestock and eatables of the establishment, which suggested to us nothing but an abundance of milk and pork. We then entered the castle, and found it within, a noble structure, with a cheerful lofty hall, large airy corridors, dormitories, and bathrooms, and an admirable banqueting-hall &ndash; not at all a mere matter of form, as I found on perusing the dietary table hanging on the wall; for I perceived that the most agreeable weekly exercises were practised, varying from roast beef and plum pudding to boiled mutton and hashes, with cold meat as an exceptional mortification, until the weekly circle was completed, and the roast beef of old England with its pleasing concomitant of plum pudding &ndash; by the by, suggestive of the season &ndash; made the pleasing appearance on the table before the happy and cheerful faces of the recipients of your bounty. My attention was called to the circumstance that one hundred young male giants, and fifty young female giants, with a partakers of this magnificent diurnal hospitality, and that they were at the same time receiving an excellent education in this spacious edifice. I looked over some of the examination papers, and I found them remarkable for a prevailing good sense and adaptation to the solid business and solid virtues of life, which I had not seen &ndash; no verily - in some colleges and ancient foundations. I looked at these young people &ndash; the male creatures &ndash; and I saw that they were healthy, cheerful, easy, and rational, under system of moral restraint far better than all the physical force that ever crushed a timid nature and never bent a stubborn one. I found other of these young people walking under their own control in the lanes outside the establishment, and coming home in the frosty air with cheery faces that were worthy of the season and of the weather. I spoke to many of them, and I found that they answered truly and fearlessly. I observed that they had an excellent way of looking those in authority full in the face. I did not see the sisterhood, and was very glad not to see them, because they were out for a long walk and had not yet come home. Gentlemen, I am told that these young people of both sexes are instructed, lodged, clothed, and boarded until they are fifteen years of age, when they are sent into the world, to the region of gold and silver which is the dream of aspiring youth. Some of the children were preparing themselves for this great world, which many of them will no doubt hereafter distinguish themselves. by studying a number of cardboard locomotive engines and trains, admirably made, and closely resembling those which by day and night pass before the windows of their school at Pinner. Finally, I made two discoveries of considerable importance to me; firstly that this was indeed, a most rare magical castle, by reason that it costs some &pound;20,000, and belongs to a public body, and is paid for; secondly, and lastly, I found that I had gone out to seek my fortune not in vain, for in this castle I discovered my speech. Gentlemen, this castle is your own, and I assure you that its solid timbers, bricks and stones are not more solid than the effects which I have fancifully set before you. This castle is the Commercial Travellers&rsquo; Schools; and, in the endowing and maintaining of such an institution, the Commercial Travellers must raise themselves both in their own esteem and in the public regard. In this place any individual here can establish an individual right and title by the humble contribution of one guinea, and it could be handsomely maintained if every commercial traveller in the world would give it one half crown on a given day in every year. Gentlemen, I wish I could say of my order, or of others of greater pretensions, that its members were united in following such an example. I can say that there is no other order of men in this kingdom who, in their selection of men in whom to propose educational trust, do greater honour to themselves or to the cause of education than the board of management of this institution. I hope then, sincerely, that the time is not far distant when the Commercial Traveller who does not belong to this institution will be a rare and isolated case. I do hope this with some confidence, because I cannot believe that it is possible that many Commercial Travellers can look upon their own dear children and not feel they would be better and lighter hearted for being sharers in this institution. Gentlemen, we should remember tonight that we are all Travellers, and every round we take converges nearer and nearer to our home; that all our little journeyings bring us together to one certain end; and that the good that we do, and the virtues that we show, and particularly the children that we rear, survive us through the long and unknown perspective of time. When those children who now contemplate our proceedings pass around as presently, it can scarcely be but that some of this company will recognize in some little face the likeness of some friend or companion. An yone of us may read the affecting words of tenderness which were spoken by Him, who was once a child, and who loved little children. Let those words, not mine, speak eloquently for those Schools. And now I will not detain you longer; I feel that I have put the case of this invaluable institution on its own merits, and having done so feel cold upon to propose the toast of the evening, namely &lsquo;Prosperity to the Commercial Travellers&rsquo; Schools&rsquo;. In half a century to come, the boys of today will remember what has occurred this evening and, at a meeting like the present, evince by their conduct how they appreciate the good performed by those who had gone before them.</td><td>18591222</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>264</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/264</td><td>Printers&amp;#039; Pension Society Anniversary Festival 1864</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s Speeches at the Printers&amp;#039; Pension Society Anniversary Festival (6 April 1864).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1864-04-06&quot;&gt;1864-04-06&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1864-04-06_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society-Anniversary-Festival</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Chairman's Speeches at the Printers' Pension Society Anniversary Festival' (6 April 1864).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1864-04-06_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society-Anniversary-Festival&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1864-04-06_Speech_Printers-Pension-Society-Anniversary-Festival&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>I do not know whether my feelings are exceptional, but I have a distinct recollection (in my early days at school, when under the dominion of an old lady, who to my mind ruled the world with the birch) of feeling an intense disgust with printers and printing. I thought the letters were printed and sent there to plague me, and I looked upon the printer as my enemy. When I was told to say my prayers I was told to pray for my enemies, and I distinctly remember praying especially for the printer as my greatest enemy. I never now see a row of large, black, fat, staring Roman capitals, but this reminiscence rises up before me. As time, wore on, however, and I became interested in Jack the Giant Killer, and other storybooks, this feeling of disgust became somewhat mitigated; and was still further removed when I became old enough to read The Arabian Nights and Robinson Crusoe with his man Friday; in fact, from the savages enjoying their feast upon the beach, I believe I might trace my first impression of a public dinner! But this feeling of dislike to the printer altogether disappeared from the time I saw my own name in print. I now feel gratified at looking at the jolly letter O, the crooked S, with its full benevolent turns, the curious G, and the Q with its comical tail, that first awoke in me a sense of the humourous. The printer of myself are, and have been for some time, inseparable companions. I have served three apprenticeships to life since I last presided over one of the festivals of this Society. It is twenty-one years since I have taken this chair. How many chairs have I taken since then? &ndash; In fact, I might say, a whole pantechnicon of chairs; and, in having worked my way round, I feel that I have come home again. My interest in the prosperity of the Society remains unabated. It has not been an existence forty years, and it has accumulated a fund of &pound;11,000, and has now seventy-six pensioners &ndash; male and female &ndash; on its funds, at an annual outlay of &pound;850. It has done and is doing great good, and it is only to be regretted that the whole of the claimants on the charity cannot be taken under his charge. The printer is a faithful servant, not only of those connected with the business, but of the public at large, and has, therefore, when labouring under infirmity or disease, an especial claim on all for support. Without claiming for him the whole merit of the work produced by his skill, labour, endurance, and intelligence; without it what would be the state of the world at large? Why, tyrants and humbugs in all countries would have everything their own way! I am certain there are not in any branch of manual dexterity so many remarkable men as might be found in the printing trade. For quickness of perception, amount of endurance, and willingness to oblige, I have ever found the compositor pre-eminent. His labour is of a nature calling for the sympathy of all. Often labouring under an avalanche of work, carried through half the night &ndash; often through the whole night &ndash; working in an unnatural and unwholesome atmosphere produced by artificial light, and exposed to sudden changes from heat to cold, the journeyman printer is rendered peculiarly liable to pulmonary complaints, blindness, and other serious diseases. The afflicted printer who has lost his sight in the service, sitting through long days in his one room, the pleasures of reading &ndash; his great source of entertainment &ndash; being denied him, his daughter or wife might read to him; but the cause of his misfortune would invade even that small solace of his dark seclusion, for the types from which that very book was printed he might have assisted to set up. Is this an imaginary case? Nearly every printing office in London of any consideration has turned out numbers such. The public, therefore, in whose interest and for whose instruction and amusement the work was executed, were bound to support the Printers&rsquo; Pension Society! In connexion with this part of the subject I may mention two pleasing facts: my good friend Mr. Bunting who has incurred a certain amount of public ridicule for writing a pamphlet on the cure of corpulency, has presented the society with &pound;52.10s, being the present amount of profit received from the sale of this pamphlet. I can only say, if the society could find many friends like that, it would soon get fat. A Mr, Vincent, who had published some works, and whose interest in the welfare of the printer had originated entirely from the kind and ready assistance, the civility, and the courtesy he had received during his business engagements at the office where his printing had been done, has signified his intention of bestowing upon the society house property in Liverpool of the annual rent of &pound;150, from which there are to be created five pensions of &pound;20, and the residue to go to the capital fund of the Society. The tyrants and humbugs before referred to &ndash; and many tyrants and humbugs there were in Europe &ndash; would gladly pension off all the printers throughout the world and have done with them; but let the friends of education and progress unite in pensioning off the worn and afflicted printers, and the remainder would ultimately press the tyrants and humbugs off the face of the earth. For if ever they were to be pressed out, the printer&rsquo;s is the press that will do it. The printer is the friend of intelligence, of thought; he is the friend of liberty, of freedom, of law; indeed, the printer is the friend of every man who is the friend of order; the friend of every man who can read. Of all inventions, of all the discoveries in science or art, of all the great results in the wonderful progress of mechanical energy and skill, the printer is the only product of civilization necessary to the existence of free man.</td><td>18640406</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr><tr><td>262</td><td>https://dickenssearch.com/items/show/262</td><td>Metropolitan Rowing Club</td><td></td><td>Chairman&amp;#039;s Speech at the Metropolitan Rowing Club (7 May 1866).</td><td>Dickens, Charles</td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=40&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=1866-05-07&quot;&gt;1866-05-07&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>1866-05-07_Speech_ Metropolitan-Rowing-Club</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;span&gt;Dickens, Charles. 'Chairman's Speech at the Metropolitan Rowing Club' (7 May 1866).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dickens Search&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span&gt;. Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date].&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1866-05-07_Speech_ Metropolitan-Rowing-Club&quot;&gt;https://dickenssearch.com/speeches/1866-05-07_Speech_ Metropolitan-Rowing-Club&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=97&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London+Tavern&quot;&gt;London Tavern&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>&lt;p&gt;Having asked the indulgence of those present, as he was labouring under a bad cold, he went on to remark that he could not avoid the remembrance of what very poor things the amateur rowing clubs on the Thames were in the early days of his noviciate; not to mention the difference in the build of the boats. He could not get on in the beginning without being a pupil under an anomalous creature called a &lsquo;fireman-waterman&rsquo;, who wore an evidently tall hat, and a perfectly unaccountable uniform, of which it might be said that if it were less adapted for one thing than another, that thing was fire. He recollected that this gentleman had on some former day won a King&rsquo;s prize wherry, and they used to go about in this accursed wherry, he and a partner, doing all the hard work, while the fireman drank all the beer.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The river was very much clearer, freer, and cleaner in those days than these; but he was persuaded that this philosophical old boatman could no more have dreamt of seeing the spectacle which had taken place on Saturday, or of seeing these clubs matched for skill and speed, then he should dare to announce through the usual authentic channels that he was to be heard of at the bar below, and that he was perfectly prepared to accommodate Mr. James Mace if he meant business. Nevertheless, he could recollect that he had turned out for a spurt a few years ago on the River Thames with an occasional Secretary, who should be nameless, and some other Eton boys, and that he could hold his own against them. More recently still, the last time that he rode down from Oxford he was supposed to have covered himself with honour, though he must admit that he found the locks so picturesque as to require more examination for the discovery of their beauty.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But what he wanted to say was this: though his &lsquo;fireman-waterman&rsquo; was one of the greatest humbugs that ever existed, he taught him what an honest, healthy, manly sport this was. The waterman would bid them pull away, and assure them that they were certain of winning in some race. And he would remark that aquatic sports never entailed a moment&rsquo;s cruelty, or a moment&rsquo;s pain, upon any living creature. Rowing men pursued recreation under circumstances which brace their muscles, and cleared the cobwebs from their minds. He assured them that he regarded such clubs as these as a &lsquo;national blessing&rsquo;. They owed, it was true, a vast deal to steam power &ndash; as was sometimes proved at matches on the Thames &ndash; but, at the same time, they were greatly indebted to all the tended to keep up a healthy, manly tone. He understood that there had been a committee selected for the purpose of arranging a great amateur regatta, which was to take place off Putney in the course of the season that was just begun. He could not abstain from availing himself of the occasion to express a hope that the committee would successfully carry on its labour to a triumphant result, and that they should see upon the Thames, in the course of this summer, such a brilliant sight as had never been seen there before. To secure this there must be some hard work, skilful combinations, and rather large subscriptions. But although the aggregate result must be great, if by no means followed that it need to be at all large in its individual details.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In conclusion, Dickens went on to to make a laughable comparison between the paying off or purification of the National Debt, just advocated by Mr. Gladstone in his budget speech, and the purification of the river Thames.&lt;/p&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td>18660507</td><td>&lt;a href=&quot;/items/browse?advanced%5B0%5D%5Belement_id%5D=4&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Btype%5D=is+exactly&amp;advanced%5B0%5D%5Bterms%5D=London&quot;&gt;London&lt;/a&gt;</td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td><td></td></tr></table>