The poet in every age, although knowing nothing of physiology, being endowed with a superabundance of this wonderful essence, divined its existence, calling it the unseen chains that bound humanity together.
In fact, this was the source from which the true poet, novelist, orator, and thought-reader derived his power. All these were endowed bountifully with this subtle energy, putting it to the use for which their individual talents led them.
The actress who nightly enchained her auditory by her clever impersonation of some ideal character, did not owe her triumph solely to the influence of her splendid rhetoric, or histrionic art, but mainly to this force which she unconsciously scattered broadcast around her, the waves of which being caught up by the innumerable nerve-centres, which responded with ready receptivity.
The same force, but of a higher order, and more spiritual essence fired the imagination of the poet, giving him burning words, and tender sympathies that found their way into every heart.
It inspired him also with prophetic insight; giving him the power of seeing into the very heart of things, whether of the past, present, or future. The ancients saw this and averred that poets are born not made; for it was owing to the highly sensitive quality of this psychic-energy that he possessed his gift of poesy.
It comes into the life of a few to meet with some exquisitely charming woman who excites love and admiration wherever she turns. All who come in contact with her unite in declaring her to be the sweetest woman that ever lived. No one can definitely tell you why she exercises so much charm over him; she is admittedly not more beautiful, nor more talented than others; nevertheless, she casts some indefinable, yet irresistible spell over all around her. Something unfathomable, unknowable dwells in her countenance, giving it an expression that haunts you. She sees into your very heart, as it were; she knows exactly what to say, and what to do to please and gratify you.
She utters your thought for you, expressing it so beautifully and perfectly that you are delighted with yourself, for she throws such a glamour over you that you imagine you have given the happy expression to the idea. What is this power she wields with such fascinating force? It is the subtle fluid that is unconsciously emanating from her. This secret, unseen energy profoundly stirs every nerve within you, sending thrills of pleasure through your frame, and imparting warmth and life, and love to all who come within its influence.
Little children love her, and nestle in her skirts; not only the animals of her own household, but the strange dog and cat look at her with longing eyes, wishful for the pat, and kind word that will certainly be granted. Each living thing feels the subtle influence and acknowledges it unhesitatingly. Sickness and suffering can hardly diminish it, for only death itself can annihilate it.
The orator holds his audience spell bound apparently, by his splendid eloquence; the whole audience which may consist of several thousands are moved by one great emotion. Every pulse beats as one; only one feeling pervades that vast assembly—perfect union of thought with the speaker. He is exercising a spell over the multitude powerful as that of the magician.
The following day the speech appears in cold print, and strange to say, there is nothing very remarkable about it. What was it that produced such deep emotions in the breast of that great concourse of people?