The Sun.
London, England, 1862-09-26 00:00:00

HBER 26, 1862

NEW ADELPHL

MR. WEBSTER'S BENEFIT.
The benefit of a London favourite, whether
manager or actor, must always be looked at in
the light rather of a challenge to public sympathy
than an appeal to public support. It must be re-
, garded as an occasion on which his patrons are en-
abled to testify to him personally--apart from
the acknowledgments, pecuniary and profes-
sional, which they may make throughout a season..
Viewed in this light, it has a propriety
which is creditable to both sides. It is a test of
personal estimate which it is as worthy in an actor
to invite, as it must always be gratifying to the
public whenever warrantable to tender. It is, in
fact, an occasion on which artist and patron
shake hands as it were, together, and with as
little loss of dignity on the one side as
of sincerity on the other. As we believe
it would be difficult to mention a man
who, in the course of a long professional
career, has succeeded in engaging a larger amount
of personal respect than Mr. Webster—in addition
to the admiration which he has so justly won, as
one of the most perfect artists in the drama of real
life who have been seen in modern times
—there can be little wonder that his benefit
should always be regarded by the public
as a very pleasurable opportunity of crowding his
theatre to the roof. Last evening, however, he
enforced the event by two additional attractions.
He revived in the first place, after a slumber of some
five or six seasons—one of the best Adelphi
pieces, and one of the greatest of modern suc-
cesses—Mr. Buckstone's drama of the " Green
Bushes," and he presented in its heroine, a lady whose
tragic power has been demonstrated as successfully
on the boards of the Adelphi, as at Drury-lane
—Miss Avonia Jones. Of the drama itself we can
have no occasion at this late period to speak. All
who have ever seen or heard of it are well aware
that, whether in respect to its interest or its
humour, its force of situation, or its happy
grasp of character, it has had few, if any
equals in the native melodrama of our stage.
It had, it is true, the advantage originally of
wonderful talent in its acting; but its continued
popularity afford sufficient proof that the great root
of its success lay after all in its own inherent and in-
disputable merit. One of its most striking features
undoubtedly is the character of its Indian heroine,
in which Madame Celeste, it will be remembered,
produced so powerful an impression. It was a charac-
ter in every way adapted to the genius of that lady,
alike on the score of its vigorous emotion
and its wild and picturesque details. She had the
advantage of studying Indian life in her early
travels in America, and years before in the same
theatre had presented the first picture of its truth
in a little drama which was taken from Cooper's
story of the "Borderers." All these circumstances
must be remembered, and in merest justice
to that lady, if we would fairly esti-
mate either the trial or the triumph of
her successor, Miss Jones had to follow an ad-
mirable actress in her very greatest impersonation,
and to follow her in a field of acting which is en • ,
tirely distinct from her own. Miss Jones, as we
have repeatedly said, is a purely ideal actress, who
neither by sympathy or study is adapted for mere
melodrama. She belongs to the school of Rachel
or Ristori rather than Celeste, and would
be infinitely more at home in Shakespeare
or Milman, than in Buckstone. Nevertheless, by
a sudden effort, that was just as surprising as it
was agreeable, she evinced last evening that the
range of her powers was quite on a level with their
depth. As in other eases she made her difficulties

the true measure of her success. In the early
scenes of the Indian huntress she threw a spirit
and reality which could not be exceeded,
and in the conflict of passion which arises on her
discovery of her betrayal—the kindling of revenge
in the blood of the Indian, struggling with devo-
tion to her deceiver, until at length the madden-
ing sight of his enfolding a rival in his arms,