The male performers, as is well understood, are all Literary amateurs; the ladies alone being actresses by profession. Charles Dickens had the principal character—that of a profligate though sound-hearted young Lord—and he played it very fairly. But stateliness sits ill upon him, and incomparably his best scene was one wherein he appears in disguise as a bookseller tempting the virtue of a poverty-stricken author. Douglas Jerrold was for the nonce a young Mr. Softhead, and seemed quite at home in the character. It was better played than Dickens's. The residue were indifferently good—or rather, indifferently bad—and on the whole the performance was indebted for its main interest to the personal character of the performers. I was not sorry when it was concluded.
After a brief interval for refreshments, liberally proffered, a comic afterpiece, "Mr. Nightingale's Diary," was given with far greater spirit. Dickens personated the principal character—or rather, the four or five principal characters—for the life of the piece is sustained by his appearance successively as a lawyer, a servant, a vigorous and active gentleman relieved of his distempers by water-cure, a feeble invalid, &c., &c. It is long since I saw much acting of any account, but this seemed to me perfect; and I am sure the raw material of a capital comedian was put to a better use when Charles Dickens took to authorship. The other characters were fairly presented, and the play heartily enjoyed throughout.
The curtain fell about half an hour past midnight amidst tumultuous and protracted applause. The company then mainly repaired to the supper room, where a tempting display of luxuries and dainties was provided for them by the munificence of their noble host. I did not venture to partake at that hour, but those who did would be quite unlikely to repent of it—till morning. Thence they were gradually moving off to another superb apartment, where the violins were beginning to give note of coming melody, to which flying feet were eager to respond; but I thought one o'clock in the morning quite late enough for retiring, and so came away before the first set was made up. I do not doubt the dancing was maintained with spirit till broad daylight.
THE FISHMONGERS' DINNER.
A sumptuous entertainment was given on Wednesday (last) evening by the "Ancient and Honorable Company of Fishmongers"—this being their regular annual festival. The Fishmongers' is among the oldest and wealthiest of the Guilds of London, having acquired, by bequest or otherwise, real estate which has been largely enhanced in value by the city's extension. Originally an association of actual fishmongers for mutual service as well as the cultivation of good fellowship, it has been gradually transformed by Time's changes until now no single dealer in fish (I understood) stands enrolled among its living members, and no fish is seen within the precincts of its stately Hall save on feast-days like this. Still, as its rents are ample, its privileges valuable, its charities bounteous, its dinners superlative, its cellars stored with ancient wines, and its leaning decided toward modern ideas, its roll of members is well filled. Most of them are city men extensively engaged in business, two or three of the City's Members of Parliament being among them. There were perhaps a dozen Members present, including Lord Palmerston, Foreign Secretary of State, and Joseph Hume, the world-known Economist. The chair was filled by "Sir John Easthope, Prime Warden." The chairmen of the several Juries at the Exhibition were among the guests.
Having recently described the Dinner to the Foreign Commissioners at Richmond, I can dispatch this more summarily, only noting what struck me as novel. Suffice it that the company, three hundred strong, was duly seated, grace said, the dinner served, and more than two hours devoted to its consumption. It was now ten o'clock, and Lord Palmerston, who was expected to speak and reputed to be rarely gifted with fluency, was obliged to leave for the Queen's Concert. Up to this time, no man had been plied with more than a dozen kinds of wine, each (I presume) very good, but altogether (I should suppose) calculated to remind the drinker of his head on rising in the morning. The cloth was now removed and after-grace sung by a choir, for even with two prayers this sort of omnivorous feasting at night is not quite healthy. I trust there is no presumption involved in the invocation of a blessing on such indulgences, yet I could imagine that an omission of one of the prayers might be excused if half the dinner were omitted also.
But the eatables were removed, silence restored, and three enormous flagons, apparently of pure gold, placed on the table near its head. The herald or toast-master now loudly made proclamation: "My Lord Viscount Ebrington, my Lord de Mauley, Baron Charles Dupin (&c. &c., reciting the names and titles of all the guests), the honorable Prime Warden, the junior Wardens and members of the ancient and honorable Company of Fishmongers bid you welcome to their hospitable board, and in token thereof beg leave to drink your healths"—whereupon the Prime-Warden rose, bowing courteously to his right-hand neighbor (who rose also), and proceeded to drink his health, wiping with his napkin the rim of the flagon, and passing it to the neighbor aforesaid, who in turn bowed and drank to his next neighbor and passed the wine in like manner, and so the flagons made the circuit of the tables. Then the festive board was re-covered with decanters, and the intellectual enjoyments of the evening commenced, the vinous not being intermitted.
The toasts were, "The Queen," "Prince Albert and the Royal Family," "The Foreign Commissioners to the World's Exhibition," "The Royal Commissioners," "The Army and Navy," "The House of Lords," "The House of Commons," "The Health of the Prime Warden," "Civil and Religious Liberty," "The Ministry," "The Bank of England," &c. The responsive speeches were made by Baron Dupin for the Foreign Commissioners, Earl Granville for the Royal ditto, Lord de Mauley for the Peers, Viscount Ebrington for the Commons, Gen. Sir Hugh de Lacy Evans for the Army, Solicitor General Wood (in the absence of Lord Palmerston) for the Ministry, the Deputy-Governor in behalf of the Governor of the Bank of England, Dr. Lushington in response to Civil and Religious Liberty, and so on. When Baron Dupin rose to respond for the Foreign Commissioners, they all rose and stood while he spoke, and so in turn with the Royal Commissioners, Members of the House of Commons, &c. Earl Granville's was the most amusing, Dr. Lushington's the most valuable speech of the evening. It briefly glanced at past struggles in modern times for the extension of Freedom in England, and hinted at similar struggles to come, pointing especially to Law Reform. Dr. L. is a very earnest speaker, and has won a high rank at the Bar and in public confidence.
I was more interested, however, in the remarks of Mr. Sergeant Talfourd, author of "Ion," and of Sir James Brooke, "Rajah of Sarawak" (Borneo, E. I.), who spoke at a late hour in reply to a personal allusion. I do not mean that Mr. Talfourd's remarks especially impressed me, for they did not, but I was glad of this opportunity of hearing him. The Rajah is a younger and more vivacious man than I had fancied him, rather ornate in manner, and spoke (unlike an Englishman) with more fluency than force, in self-vindication against the current charge of needless cruelty in the destruction of a nest of pirates in the vicinity of his Oriental dominions. From reading, I had formed the opinion that he is doing a good work for Civilization and Humanity in Borneo, but this speech did not strengthen my conviction.
Farther details would only be tedious. Enough that the Fishmongers' Dinner ended at midnight, when all quietly and steadily departed. In "the good old days," I presume a considerable proportion both of hosts and guests would by this time have been under the table. Let us rejoice over whatever improvement has been made in social habits and manners, and labor to extend it.