his fine blue eyes lighted up a countenance full of expression—his attitudes were graceful and appropriate, and the strong emotion seemed to pervade every fibre of his frame. The applauses which greeted his entrée were redoubled, and loud _huzzas_ and _bravos_ resounded through the Theatre. In the third act, with his mother, his _pathos_ and his judgment were both transcendent. When to the caution of _Othman_ he replies, ... the energy of his delivery was such as to leave all description at a distance: but the closing soliloquy was the very climax of excellence.... “In passing from particulars to generals, we feel ourselves at a loss how to proceed. We cannot try him as a _boy_, who comes forward with such superior pretensions. We cannot rate him as a _man_, when so many means of future excellence are as yet unripened and undisclosed. When we mention that his step is firm and manly—his gesticulation free and unembarrassed—and his delivery and emphasis in general most correct, we speak of things which might, possibly, through tuition be acquired. But the intelligence of manner—the eloquence of the eye when speech was denied—the rapid yet judicious transitions from prostrate affliction to dignified resentment—are qualities which a GARRICK might display, but which he never could transfuse. We do not mean to hold forth this youth as a model of perfection, but that, at his age, and with so few opportunities, he should approach so nearly to perfection, is the wonder which it is our province to record.” [Illustration: THEATRICAL LEAP-FROG.] The great JOHN KEMBLE was said to have been much put out at the amount of attention this child received, and Rowlandson caricatured the young Roscius leaping over “Black Jack’s” head. The crowding to see him still continued, and there is an amusing caricature by Ansell of the difficulties to be encountered, in order to obtain a glimpse of the precocious boy. The scene is vividly depicted. “Has any lady lost a flannel dickey?” “Who owns a shoe?” “That Dickey belongs to me, young man,” exclaims a lady whose dress bears palpable tokens of the fray. A plaintive voice is heard bewailing, “I’m a bran new hat out of pocket;” whilst a cripple inquires, “Has any of the good people found a Crutch?” [Illustration: VAIN ATTEMPT TO SEE YOUNG ROSCIUS.] All sorts of _ruses_ were attempted, in order to see Master Betty without inconvenience. Here is one of them—_Morning Herald_, December 14, 1804: “A curious trick was last night discovered at Drury Lane Theatre. Some of the Performers in the Orchestra had been induced to yield their places to as many _sprigs_ of fashion, who entered with their violins under their arms, and with _greased bows_, that they might not interrupt the harmony to which they could not contribute. The fraud was discovered in time, and the _falsetto_ fashionables were civilly ushered back to the _outer door_!”