At Balsham, the place from which she writes in the above letter, Mrs. Sutton died in 1602, after a happy married life of twenty years with "good Mr. Sutton." This lady seems to have been of as generous a disposition as her husband; for in her lifetime it was said, "Mr. Sutton's house was an open hospital." The loss of his wife made a great change in Thomas Sutton himself. "Being full of years, he grew quite sick of the world by the loss of his most valuable jewel in it; and lessening his family, and discharging a considerable number of servants, he retired from it and became frugal, that he might be the more magnificent to many." The disposal of his enormous wealth after his decease was now his one great care. Shameful as it may seem, the disgraceful fact remains that an intrigue was carried on by Sir John Harrington to induce King James to raise Sutton to the peerage, hoping that he might thus be bribed to leave his vast fortune to the Duke of York, afterwards Charles I. But honest Thomas Sutton was not to be so easily inveigled. He wrote a letter to the Earl of Ellesmere, the Lord Chancellor of the day, and to Lord Treasurer Salisbury, denying his own connivance in any such scheme, or consent to it in any way. One extract from this letter will suffice to put Sutton's independence of character in a high light. "My mynde in my younger days hath ever been free from ambition; and now I am going to my grave, to gape for such a thing were mere dotage in me. That this Knight hath often been tampering with me to that purpose, to enterteyne Honour and to make the noble Duke my heire, is true; to whom I made that answer as, had he either witte or honestie-with reverence to your Lordships be it spoken-he never would have engaged himself in this business so egregiously to delude his Majesty and wrong me." in 1611, to found his hospital at the latter place. Like Edward Alleyn, his contemporary, the founder of Dulwich College, Sutton wished to be the first master of his own hospital; but an attack of fever warned him that his mortal end was approaching. On the 1st of November, 1611, he executed a deed of gift of his estates to the governors, in trust for the hospital; and in the November following he signed his will-a curiosity in itself, from the number of its bequests to almost every one, rich and poor alike, whom he seems to have had any regard for in his long lifetime. As a quaint specimen of the wills of some of these worthies of the good old times, a few brief extracts from the last testament of good Thomas Sutton may be interesting. It opens as follows: "The second day of November, in the yeare of our Lord God one thousand sixe hundred and eleven. I, Thomas Sutton, of Camps Castell, in the county of Cambridge, Esquire, being weake in body, and of good perfect mind and memory, thanks be given to Almighty God for the same, do make and declare this my last will and testament in manner and forme following, that is to say "First and principally, I commend my soule into the hands of Almighty God, trusting, through His mercy and by the precious death and passion of my Saviour and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, to be saved, and to inherit the kingdom of God for ever; and my body I will to be buried when and in what sort it shall seeme meet and convenient to mine executor or executors, and supervisor or supervisors, of this my last will and testament, with the least pomp and charge that may be." Then follow his numerous bequests to different private individuals, each arranged as a separate item. As, for instance: "Item.-I give unto each of my servingmen to whom I give wages, with my cooke that shall be alive at my decease, thirteen pound sixe shillings and eightpence over and above their wages then due. "Item.-I give to so many of my maidservants as I have in my house at the time of my decease, five markes a-peece over and above their wages." The following item reads oddly in these advanced days of parochial vestries and boards of works: Sutton died a few days after he had made his will, on the 12th of December, at his house at Hackney, at the ripe old age of seventy-nine. funeral was deferred, it being almost imposOwing to the bad state of the roads, his at that time for any procession to make its way even from Hackney to the Charterhouse in mid-winter. His bowels were, "Item.-I give towards the mending of the highwaies betweene Islington and Newington, in the county of Middlesex, twenty-sible sixe poundes thirteene shillings and fowerpence of lawful money of England, to bee imployed and bestowed by the good oversight of mine executor or executors, the cunstable of Newington and the churchwardens then for the time being, the same highwaies to bee amended, made, and holpen within one yeare after my decease." Here is another item of a domestic nature: "I give to Amy Popham, if it please God she live to keepe house, three fether beds, and so many paire of Holland sheetes, with the boulsters to them, and so many hangings of tapestry as furnish her to a bed-chamber. The rest of my householde stuffe I will shalbe sold by myne executors for the speedier payment of my leagacies, and performance of this my last will." The phraseology of Sutton's will is manifestly based upon the orthodox legal form of that day; but one clause is worth quoting in conclusion which might be oftener imitated in more modern testaments with practical effect. The stout old testator says: "Item. My will and full intent and meaning is that if any person or persons whosoever to whome I have in and by this my last will and testament given and bequeathed any legacy or summe or summes of money, shall any waies gainsay, impugne, or contradict or impeach this my last will and testament, that then all and every one so impugning, contradicting, impeaching, or gainesaying this my last will and testament, and every of their children and kinsfolk to whome I have in and by this my last will and testament given and bequeathed any legacy, shall have no part nor portion of any such guift, legacy, or bequest, but shall utterly loose the same, and bee utterly barred thereof, as if no such legacy, gift, or bequest had been given unto him, her, or them by this my last will and testament (any thing before in these presents mentioned or contained to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding)." and his body was embalmed. The funeral took place on the 28th of All the governors named in the letters patent met at Sutton's house at Hackney, where the body lay. After a handsome collation, the cortège set out-a splendid sight even in its solemnity that fine morning, in early summer, as it wound its slow length along the fresh green lanes of old Hackney and Islington to the Charterhouse. "The Earl of Northampton, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir James Altham, Sir John Crooke, Sir Francis Popham, and many other knights and gentlemen assembled there. The procession was very solemn, under the direction of Mr. Camden, Clarencieux King-atArms. An hundred old men, in black cloaks, preceeded the corps. Mr. Simon BaxterMr. Sutton's only sister's eldest son-was chief mourner; and then followed the lords and gentlemen, with their attendants, all in mourning." To return, in conclusion, to the eighty decayed and desolate gentlemen who spend their last days in comparative comfort under the shadow of good Thomas Sutton's beneficence. We will take a brief glance at the system by which this ancient charity is ruled. In the original letters patent, the qualifications to the Charterhouse were expressed in general terms. "The institution was entitled a hospital, house, or place of abiding for the finding sustentation and relief of poor, aged, needy, or impotent people." These terms were afterwards considered too general, and not sufficiently discriminative; and it was required that eligible candidates should. be "such poor persons as can bring testimony to their good behaviour and soundness in religion, and such as have been servants to the King's Majesty, either decrepid or old captains, either at sea or land; soldiers, maimed or impotent; decayed merchants; men fallen into decay through shipwreck, casualty of fire, or such evil accident; ONCE A WEEK. those that have been captives under the This description again was afterwards not But this restriction was soon modified as being too limited; and it was settled that the pensioners should be "old gentlemen," as the term is generally, though somewhat indefinitely, understood. Hence, the Carthusian brothers are supposed to be decayed merchants, officers in the army or navy, literary or professional men, tradesmen, and others who have occupied stations of respectability in the world. Such were the modifications made from time to time as to the qualifications for admission as a Carthusian brother. That the original intentions of the founder were observed in these modifications is more than doubtful. The history of all great benefactions is in this respect pretty nearly the same. older and wealthier a great charity grows, The the farther does the present government of its affairs diverge from what the first founder intended it should be. Taking the Charterhouse, for instance, we imagine that if Thomas Sutton could step forth from his sculptured tomb, and mingle with the modern poor brothers for a brief half-hour, he would hardly feel proud of the fashion in which his wishes have been interpreted through later generations. From the diary of a late brother of the Charterhouse, we have been able to arrive at some curious facts as to the internal government of the institution within the last few years, which prove only too plainly that some searching reform is needed here as elsewhere. As we shall probably advert more fully, in a subsequent paper, to the many abuses of this charity that exist, hidden away from the knowledge even of Charity Commissioners, a few preliminary notes on the subject must suffice for the present. Speaking of the Charity Commissioners reminds us, en passant, of an amusing result of their last visit of inspection to the famous old asylum. One of the brothers under examination, on being asked his general opinion of the comforts of the place, responded -with perhaps more enthusiasm than inward [March 9, 1872. conviction-that it was a perfect Paradise. the Charterhouse, there is no doubt that all the members of the society, from the grievances. The great question which re- At the present moment, the annual re- these old gentlemen were supposed, accord- the advancing prosperity. From the first allowance of money per year, they have been promoted from twenty to twenty-six, and now to thirty-six pounds per annum. But out of this the poor brothers have largely to support themselves—as far, at all events, as all little comforts which men in the decline of life urgently need. They all dine together daily at three o'clock, and this is the only meal supplied by the terms of the charity. Bread and butter, to a certain extent, coals, and candles, and each his own quiet room; and the rest of his creature comforts-in the way of breakfast, tea, and supper-the Carthusian brother must provide for himself. When we compare these facts with the salaries of the high officials of the place, the contrast is shamefully glaring. At the time the hospital was founded, the master's salary, for instance, was fifty pounds a-year, and each brother's five pounds-the stipend of the master being tenfold larger than that of the ordinary brothers. Now the salary of the master is presumed-is presumed, we say, for no one knows what his income really is to be over £800 a-year. Yet, on the other hand, the medical officer of the hospital, who is supposed to be in constant readiness to attend to the probably sudden wants, at all hours of the day and night, of these solitary old men, is allowed only about twenty-five pounds a-year for the medicine which may be required. The librarian, again, one of the brothers, receives five pounds a-year as his extra allowance for duties which demand his attention at least four or five hours a-day-about the same amount as the gardener's extra fee for ringing the bell. The "grooms," as they are called, who wait upon the brothers, are so liberally rewarded that they are obliged to find employment at chance moments elsewhere, as waiters at evening parties, and other more remunerative casual occupations. And thus, in a multitude of other ways equally suggestive, are the rich funds of this grand old hospital misappropriated. MR. J. L. TOOLE. THIS week our cartoon is a portrait of the eminent comedian, Mr. John Laurence Toole. He is a native of the city of London, and was born, as he sometimes jokingly says, "of poor but dishonest parents, you know," in the year 1831. He is the son of the late celebrated toastmaster, who distinguished himself as much by his "Silence, gentlemen, if you please," and by his good and genial qualities, as his son has since done on the boards. Mr. Toole received his education at the City of London School, and was removed thence at the usual age to become a clerk in a merchant's office. His taste for the drama appears to have developed itself very early in life, for at this time he became a member of the "City Histrionic Club," where he soon became very popular. The appearances of the amateur actor were hailed with applause at several metropolitan literary institutions, where he performed in various characters. His successes at Walworth, Aldersgate-street, Hackney, Crosby Hall, and other places, caused Mr. Toole to lay down his pen and put on the buskin as a professional actor. His first appearance on the stage of a regular theatre was at Ipswich, on the occasion of a benefit, where-under an assumed name-he played the part of Silvester Daggerwood. This assumption was completely successful. On his return to town, Mr. Toole played as an amateur at the Haymarket, for Mr. F. Webster's benefit, taking the character of Simmons in the "Spitalfields Weaver." After this performance he gave up his commercial pursuits, and took to the stage for good. His debut as a professional was made at the Queen's Theatre, Dublin, on the 2nd of October, 1852-now nearly twenty years ago. Since that date Mr. Toole's career has been a series of successes. From Dublin, where he was well received, Mr. Toole went to Edinburgh, and thence to Glasgow. In London, his first engagement was at the St. James's Theatre, then under the management of Mrs. Seymour. Here he played in "My Friend the Major," "Boots at the Swan," "Honours before Titles"—in all of which his rendering of the characters he took was perfectly satisfactory to audiences and critics. A re-engagement took him to Edinburgh, after which he appeared at the Lyceum, and made a success of the character of Fanfar ronade, in "Belphegor." After a provincial tour, Mr. Toole commenced an engagement at the Adelphi, and played with the greatest success in "Ici on Parle Français," "Willow Copse," "Birth ONCE A WEEK. place of Podgers," "Good for Nothing," At the Adelphi, great successes were made in the adaptation of "The Haunted Man" by his performance of Mr. Tetterby, and of a frightened servant in a miserable piece by Boucicault, called "The Phantom." The character saved the piece. After leaving the Adelphi Theatre, Mr. Toole became a member of Mr. W. H. Liston's company at the New Queen's, and contributed largely to the success of that undertaking by the production of several important original dramas, among which perhaps the most notable was that of Mr. Byron's "Dearer than Life," in which the actor's representation of Michael Garner again presented him to the public as the legitimate successor of the late Mr. Robson. The popularity of this drama has been very great, and it still continues to be a great attraction not only through Mr. Toole's provincial engagements, but also when put forward in London, as it still occasionally is. Another successful production was that of the play of "Not Guilty," in which Mr. Toole had a prominent character. Nor should we forget a most admirable performance of his in the charming little drama called "The Poor Nobleman," which greatly contributed to the success of the piece. Space will not allow of our following Mr. Toole through those many original pieces in which the public have endorsed his qualities as an actor; but we must mention with a special word of praise the performance of Dick Dolland, in "Uncle Dick's Darling;" and of John Lockwood, in the later drama called "Wait and Hope," produced a season or two back at the Gaiety. Mr. Toole is almost unrivalled in his line at present. In comedy and farce, in humour and pathos, his acting is excellent. He is always amusing, often affecting. There are no parts that show him to greater advantage than such characters as Caleb Plummer in "Dot," or Harry Coke in "Off the Line." Of this impersonation, Mr. Toole makes one of those perfect pictures of everyday life of the lower class in which he has so often proved himself a consummate artist. But in low comedy and broad farce it would be difficult to find an actor of equal merit. He has identified himself of late with the character of Paul Pry, in the late Mr. Poole's celebrated play of that name. As Paul Pry he keeps his audience in a roar whenever he is on the stage; but he [March 9, 1872. renders the character of the inquisitive genquite original in itself. In Mr. Toole's tleman in a quiet and unobtrusive way, hands, Paul's curiosity is a disease. He does not know of his peculiarity, and his "I hope I don't intrude," and "I just dropped in," fall not as gag phrases, but as the natural remarks of a man who feels the importpany desirable, or at all events tolerable. ance of his business must make his com naturally so well suited to Mr. Toole as many others of his well-known parts, he has Although, perhaps, the character is not completely made Paul his own. part in which the actor mellows with time. Mr. Toole has played it many times, and It is a his representation of the prying gossip is finished and perfect of his efforts: from the now admirable. It is one of the most beginning to the end of the piece he seems never to miss a single point. S1 THE ALBATROSS. "Is it he?" quoth one, "is this the man, Rime of the Ancient Mariner," and ever INGS Samuel Taylor Coleridge in that strange bird, in his fittingly strange poem, the albatross had been a subject of discusBut long before Coleridge sang of this sion among the curious in these matters. title is romantic, if not altogether reliable. The zoologists have chosen to call the albatross Avis Diomedea. The origin of the When the great Diomedes, of Homeric celebrity, returned from the Trojan War, he found that Ægiale, the lawful partner of his bosom, hardly welcomed back her long absent spouse with the faithful affection which he expected. With admirable discretion the heart-broken Diomedes retired which had been called Magna Græcia; and for the rest of his life to that part of Italy there, at a ripe old age, he died. His death in the inconsolability of their grief, they was so mourned by his companions, that, resembling swans. were changed into sea birds something Adriatic, and became remarkable for the tameness with which they approached the These birds took flight into some neighbouring islands of the |