exhibit any other passions than those which his age has permitted him to know and feel. In short, he is neither more nor less than a child possessed of extraordinary powers for theatrical representation.

Impressed as was Mr. Hough with favourable sentiments for his pupil, on his return he induced the mana ger of the Belfast theatre to engage the child for four nights, and, on the 16th of August, 1803, he made his first appearance on the stage at Belfast, in the character of Osman, being then eleven years of age.Throughout the night he discovered no sign of embarrassment*, performed without mistake, and received the most tumultuous and incessant applause. The ensuing morn he was announced for the part of Young Norval, in the tragedy of Douglas, and his representation of that character inspired the whole town of Belfast with the highest consideration for his talents. He afterwards played Rolla and Romeo with equal success. His fame having spread to Dublin, Mr. Jones, the manager there, engaged him for nine nights. The probability of the child's theatrical interest becoming very weighty, induced Mr. Betty to attach Mr. Hough entirely to his son, which the affection and zeal of the latter rendered an easy task.

On the 28th of November, master Betty appeared at the theatre-royal Crow-street, in the character of Young Norval, and received, in addition to the most general and unbounded applause, the appellation of "The Young Roscius." His success

in Dublin was so great, that the manager endeavoured to engage him for a term of years, at a liberal and increasing salary; much to the credit of Dublin, however, there alone have been found those, who, free from envious or interested motives, have had sufficient discernment to appreciate truly the child's talents and the extravagant impropriety both of the theatre and the public in forcing him into an untimely maturity.

The author of "The Series of Familiar Epistles to F. Jones, esq. on the present state of the Irish Stage," a work of the keenest wit, humour, and satire, points out the folly and absurdity of making the stage a nursery, and laments that a promising child should be deprived of that education which might make him a useful man, to be converted into a source of theatrical revenue. Prince William, now duke of Gloucester, it is said, has condescended to give a similar, though a more prudential, because a more qualified advice. One of our esquires on this side the water, not quite satisfied with the indefinite directions of the Familiar Epistles, has published an octavo of "Hints for the Education of the Young Roscius." According to him, he must possess many natural endowments, and almost innumerable qualifications and acquirements indispensibly requisite; great labour; invincible ardour; perspicuity of intellect; strength of memory; polished capability; classical education; French; a universal knowledge of history; an acquaintance with the best masters

of

in Scotland, according to the biographers, were neither few nor temperate, and are said to have nothing but their malignity to recommend them.*

Mr. McCready, the monarch of the Birmingham theatre, now sent the young hero of the sock an embassy to implore the aid of his omnipotent prowes, in whose cause the Young Roscius made his first appearance on the English stage: but there, and there only, we hear of the slightest symptom of incredu lity. For the first four evenings the theatre was but thinly attended, but on the fifth, the electric shock communicated itself with the great est success. Mr. Harley, author and actor of that theatre," was enwrapt in wonder and delight," owned himself a convert, and from his soul exclaimed-" This is no coun. terfeit! this is the acting that feel ingly persuades me what it is." The subsequent nights were thronged beyond all precedent, nearly to suffocation, and every tongue confessed the power which every heart had felt." Mr. Harley's ideas of acting seem to agree perfectly with the Edinburgh manager, for although his modesty would not permit him to anticipate the judgment of a London audience; he considers "his Hamlet as one of the most fascinating pieces of acting that he had ever witnessed." His Richard too was equally a masterpiece. It should not be forgotten, that, in support of the opinion of these two experienced and able critics, a letter signed Jo. Stuart, inserted in Mr. Jackson's pamphlet, contains a conviction, that

he would play Lusignan or Old Norval, with equal propriety and effect, as Douglas or Osman."

The Birmingham manager sent a choice of conditions+, either a clear benefit for six performances, which might have equalled 2601. or for eight nights one fifth of the gross receipts, and a benefit; or on Mrs. Siddons's plan, to divide equally after the expences, and to pay the customary gratuity for a benefit ; but those concluded on were to divide for six nights, allowing 501. for expences, and to give the 7th night gratis on condition of receiving the 8th for 401. Mr. Hough, in a letter dated Edinburgh, July 28, states that "the last six nights of his performing here produced £.844." At Birmingham the receipts for thirteen nights were nearly £.2,300. During Young Betty's stay at Birmingham, one of the Drury-Lane managers, in passing through that place, was persuaded to stay and see the prodigy he stayed two nights, and, after much deliberation, offered half a clear benefit to perform seven nights in London! Of course the offer was rejected with disdain.

After frank deliberation, a commission was sent down to a Birmingham critic to obtain an opinion on the case: the critic being indisposed, alas! like ordinary men, had recourse to Mr. M'Cready, who expressed an opinion that he was worth fifty guineas a night, and a clear benefit. Terms so enormous gave birth (and well they might) to a new deliberation; and, in the interim, captain Barlow arrived at Birmingham on the part of Mr.

† Harley, p. 27.

Harley, p. 33.

Ilarris

Harris, with a carte blanche for a Covent Garden engagement, which was concluded for twelve nights on McCready's terms. The nights were to be three in the last week of November, three in the first week of December, three in the last week of January, and three in the first week of February. His benefit to follow immediately, and the engagement to be renewed after Easter, should its success render it eligible. The altercation consequent, between the managers, is not worth repeating, but Mr. Harley states that Drury-Lane dispatched immediately messengers to Liverpool, and elsewhere, to buy off, at any price, his present engagements; but, much to the credit of the boy and his friends, they determined to adhere to every subsisting contract; an exclusive engagement, however, having not been made, Drury-Lane obtained him for the Covent-Garden inter

From Birmingham he proceeded to Sheffield, and with the same success; on no occasion was that town known to be so crowded; great numbers thronged to town in all directions, and every house was overloaded with visitors; and the prices of admission were raised, no doubt, to oblige the gentility of the place. Early in October he arrived at Liverpool.* All his former successes, however brilliant and unprecedented, were there completely eclipsed, (the inhabitants of Liverpool being particularly attached to dramatic amusements and prodigies,) and the ordinary theatric receipts greatly exceed any in the empire, London and perhaps Dublin excepted: the house is also the third in magnitude, yet the difficulty of admittance

was such, that in a few minutes the house filled: : nay, the pressure, in a morning, to take places, was such, that all the standing rigging of the pressors was carried away; and hats, wigs, boots, muffs, spencers, and tippets, flew about in all directions through the crowd. In fifteen nights Master Betty cleared £.1520 at Liverpool. From thence he proceeded to Chester and Manchester, and finished his provincial engagements at Lichfield; where it is said he played twice a day.

Saturday December first, 1804, was announced for his first appearance on the London boards, and as the newspapers had for months been winding up the public to the highest pitch of expectation, those who are acquainted with the turbulent manners of a London mob, and its more than Liverpool attachment to prodigies of all descriptions, may form a tolerable picture of the assemblage on that occasion, and also of its conduct.-A playhouse door, on a favourite night, in London, is the only place where the true spirit of jacobinism is to be found; there all distinctions of age, sex, or rank are unknown, and by force or accident only can pre-eminence be obtained. The pressure was paralleled the doors were scarcely opened before proclamations announced the house to be full. Confusion reigned triumphant in every part of the theatre. In vain was an attempt made to address the audience; the play commenced amidst the storm, and was compelled to shrink from its fury. The address was again brought forward, and the actor had sufficient firmness to grum, ble quite through it. The tragedy

un