" General Tom Thumb," the tiny attraction at the Princess's,
is an extraordinary speck of humanity, that should be exhibited on a table in a parlour, and not on the stage of a theatre. His American diminu- tiveness is a prodigy in his way ; standing no higher than the knee of the person who led him on, and appearing, by the ease with which he was lifted, to be no more than the stated fifteen pounds weight. His head is comparatively large, but his body and limbs are well proportioned ; and he has a look of intelligence and self-possession. It is painful, though ludicrous, to see him traversing the stage with inch-long strides a-la-Napoleon, apparently bowed down by the weight of his cocked hat ; and to witness his attempts to dance a hornpipe, the lock-step being a physical impossibility : still more inappropriate is the task of personifying the antique statues. Not that this pocket edition of boy- hood is weak; far from it : he supports his own weight, or lightness rather, with ease, hanging with both hands holding a stick while his showman carries it about. His age is said to be twelve years ; which is possible, though his voice is like that of a child of six, and his appearance is infantine. Except as the representative of the doughty hero whose name has been bestowed on him, this Lilliputian boy has no business on the stage—unless he were to play Gulliver to the Brob- dignag of the American giant. The Yankees may now boast of having sent forth the least and the biggest specimens of humanity extant: they are always in extremes—and extremes meet here.
The version of L'Homme Blasé, at the Princess's, is not comparable with that at the Haymarket, nor the acting either: the part is alike unsuited to KEELEY'S style and person ; but his talent renders his act- sag amusing,—which is more than can be said of BEDFORD'S blacksmith.
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