celebrated brother, WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. At this moment the plaudits were
vigorously enthusiastic. Thrice did the flattered statue bow its head, and
once it laid its hand upon its grateful bosom, in acknowledgment of the
honour that was paid it. As soon as the applause had partially subsided,
the manager, in the character of _Midas_, surrounded by the nine Muses,
advanced to the foot of the pedestal, and, to use the language of the
reporters of public dinners, "in a neat and appropriate speech," deposed a
laurel crown upon the brows of Shakspere's effigy. Thereupon loud cheers
rent the air, and the statue, deeply affected, extended its right hand
gracefully towards the audience. In a moment the thunders of applause sank
into hushed and listening awe, while the author of the "magnificent poem"
addressed the house as follows:--

"My friends,--You at length behold me in the position to which my immense
talents have raised me, in despite of 'those laws which press so fatally
on dramatic genius,' and blight the budding hopes of aspiring authors."

This commencement softened the hearts of his auditors, who clapped their
handkerchiefs to their noses.

"The world," continued the statue, "may regard me with envy; but I despise
the world, particularly the critics who have dared to laugh at me.
(Groans.) The object of my ambition is attained--I am now the equal and
representative of Shakspere--detraction cannot wither the laurels that
shadow my brows--_Finis coronat opus!_--I have done. To-morrow I retire
into private life; but though fortune has made me great, she has not made
me proud, and I shall be always happy to shake hands with a friend when I
meet him."

At the conclusion of this pathetic address, loud cheers, mingled with