The Sun.
London, England, 1858-12-28 00:00:00

all hands to be. roomy and comfortable, and there can be
little doubt but that when all the. arrangements are made;
tte new Adelphi Will be one of the. ost convenient places
of amusement in the metropolis.
The performance commenced with an amusing little
I lea-) called "A Photographic Soirée," in which the prin-
cipal parts wore sustained with characteristic humour by
Mr. B. Webster, Mr. J. L. Toole, and Miss Woolgar. The
new act drop, designed by Mr. Clarkson Stanfield, R.A.,
and painted by Mr. W. Telbin, then descended, and the
" National Anthem" was performed with excellent effect,
At the conclusion Mrs. Alfred Mellon stepped forward, and
delivered thefollowing introductory address, written by Mr,
Shirley Brooks :
: " 'Tis an old custom which, for custom's sake,
You will forgive us that we do not break—
The brief address, that from the olden times,
With courteous homage and decorous rhymes,
Has marked an opening night. Time quickly flies,
While Stanfield's magic pencil charms one's eyes.
" Now Christmas bells speak out with gladdening chime,
And every thought is fixed on pantomime—
Permit me, while this veil our picture screens,
Two words about two transformation scenes.
Here, where I stand, so London legends tell,
Dwelt old King Rowley's saucy favourite, Nell,
The least unworthy of the graceless graces
Who ruled by virtue—well—by right of faces.
Recal those days, by facile memory beckoned—
" We live again beneath King Charles the Second.
What is the picture ? See, with sword in hand,
Three drunken nobles scour along the Strand.
There, in Rose-alley, on the pavement bleeds
A poet who denounced a peer's misdeeds.
Yonder's Whitehall—asylum and resort
Of coarser rogues than ever formed a court;
While such divinity doth hedge a king—
'Tis a low hedge, inviting treason's spring.
But hark I—misfortune hath new gifts in store,
• The Dutchman's cannon on our river roar ;
And what cares England that those Dutch advance,
Knowing the Merry Monarch sold to France ?
What was our drama then ? One scarce dares name
That vile addition to a nation's shame.
Enough to say, the desecrated stage
Mirrored too well the baseness of the age.
" One transformation scene. With all its scene,
Vanish the age of saucy Mistress Gwyn ;
And the next change in our dissolving view,
Presents your own far happier times—and you.
A Queen, God bless her 1 and bless those, we pray,
Nearest her heart, at home or far away
A Queen, beside whose throne no traitor creeps,
No courtier fawns, no ruined subject weeps.
Her father's blazon waves that throne above;
Its deep foundations are her people's love.
If aught of despot in her sway hath part,
• "ris in the hold she lays on every heart.
Proudly her banner glitters in the day,
When England's cannon sweep her foes away ;
More proudly when its folds, protecting, wave
O'er the sad exile, or the ransomed slave.
" The actor fearlessly before you stands,
And asks a generous justice at your hands.
The stage has shared the change, and boldly claims
Your warm approval of its ends and aims.
We preach no moral, but our pictures teach
Morals that lie, at times, too deep for speech,
While the light lesson of the laughing hour
May, when the laugh has passed, retain its power.
These are the twins that owe the drama birth—
A noble sorrow—and a harmless mirth..
"We too—the house in which you sit, I mean.--
Have had our private transformation scene.
The dear, old, pleasant, inconvenient nest,
Where, for so long, we tried to do our best
For you, and for the drama—that has fled;
We humbly offer you this house instead.
And if the earnest effort he has made
Please you, our manager is well repaid.
But that his anxious mind be fully eased,
• Come every night and tell him you are pleased.
There's many a face behind our curtain here,
Waiting the greeting which we hold so dear—
Faces of those who shared our last campaign,
Of some who left us, and return again.
And some new faces in our ranks you'll view,
Whose owners hope to be your favourites too.
All bid you welcome to our new abode ;
All ask the kindness-In old days you showed,
And none more earnestly than she who bends
Before you, welcoming her dear old friends."
It is almost needless to record that the address was
Ileartily,responded to by an audience willing to respond to
the exertions of the worthy manager.
The farce of "Good for Nothing" followed, with Mr.
Toole as John Dihbs and Miss Woolgar as Nan. Mr.
Toole is a valuable additign to the talented company which
Mr. Webster has collected with so much discrimination for
the public amusement.
The Pantomime, written by Mr. Mark Lemon, is entitled
"Mother Red Cap; or, Harlequin and Johnny Gilpin's
Ride to Edmonton." Mr. Hildebrand was Harlequin, and
Miss Jenny Hayman most graceful and elegant as Colum-
bine. The pantomime is but of average merit; but without
dwelling upon it in detail, it is sufficient to record our meed
of approbation at the important improvements which have
been adopted in this establishment, many of which our
limited space prevents us from noticing at present.
We, therefore, content ourselves with observing that,
*beyond a doubt, this theatre is one of the mast convenient
and handsomest places of amusement in London, and we
hope that the enterprise and outlay of Mr. Webster upon
it will not be unrequited by thepublic.

OLYMPIC.
The Christmas burlesque here is entitled " Mazeppa."
The name indicates nearly enough of the story of the extra-
vaganza, a version or perversion of Lord Byron's poem.
Mr. Robson is, of course, the hero of the tale. The trans-
formation in the concluding scene is very gorgeous, and the
piece winds up brilliantly. Mr. H. J. Byron is the author,
and his fertility inpuna is certainly immense—the burlesque
is thickly sown with them. Some are audacious, and some
made the audience wince a little ; but others were clever
enough to redeem their weaker brethren ; and the dresses
and scenery were unexceptionable.