The mode of operation will now be clear. When the young lady mounts on the stool, and extends her arms, the performer, in placing the upright beneath them, takes care to let the lower end of A sink properly into the socket, and to adapt the plug j to the cavity at top. The apparatus is now in the position shown in [Fig. 313], and when the stool is removed, the lady is left apparently resting only on A, but in reality comfortably seated in her iron cage, the different parts of which are all carefully padded, so as to occasion her no discomfort. Her legs and arms, being quite free, may be placed in any position that the performer chooses; and when presently he lifts her into a slanting position, as shown by the dotted line in [Fig. 313], the check h drops into the second tooth of the ratchet, and thus maintains her in that position. After a short interval she is lifted into the horizontal position, as in [Fig. 314], when the check drops into the third tooth of the ratchet, and so maintains her, apparently sleeping upon an aërial couch. As the support terminates above the right knee, the legs are kept extended by muscular power. This attitude is therefore very fatiguing, and for that reason cannot be continued more than a few moments. To replace the lady in the upright position, the performer places both hands under the recumbent figure, the left hand easily finding (through the tunic) and drawing down the hook i, thereby withdrawing the check, and allowing the lady to sink down gently to the perpendicular. The stool is again placed under her feet, and the second upright under her left arm, before the operator begins to demesmerise her, which he does after the orthodox fashion with reverse passes, the lady simulating as best she may the bewildered and half-scared expression of one newly awakened from a mesmeric trance.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Concluding Observations.
It now only remains to give the neophyte a few parting hints of general application. In getting up any trick, even the simplest, the first task of the student should be to carefully read and consider the instructions given, and to make quite certain that he perfectly comprehends their meaning. This being ascertained, the next point will be to see whether the trick involves any principle of sleight-of-hand in which he is not thoroughly proficient; and if it does, to set to work and practise diligently, till the difficulty is conquered. Having thus mastered the elements of the trick, he should next attack it as a whole, and in like manner practise, practise, practise, till from beginning to end he can work each successive step of the process with ease and finish. Having achieved this much, he may perhaps consider that his task is at an end. By no means. Being perfect in the mechanical portion of the illusion, he must now devote himself to its dramatic element, which, as regards the effect upon the spectator, is by far the more important portion. The performer should always bear in mind that he fills the character of a person possessing supernatural powers, and should endeavour, in every word and gesture, to enter into the spirit of his part. As the true actor, playing Hamlet, will endeavour actually to be Hamlet for the time, so the soi-disant magician must, in the first place, learn to believe in himself. When he steps upon the stage he should, for the time being, persuade himself that his fictitious power is a reality, and that the wand he holds is not only the emblem, but the actual implement of his power. Every time he pronounces the mystic “Pass!” or touches an object with his wand to effect some pretended transformation, he should force himself to forget the commonplace expedients by which the result is really attained, and to believe that the effect is produced by a genuine magical process. When he goes through the motion of passing a coin from the right hand to the left, he should have imagination enough to persuade himself, for the moment, that the coin has really been transferred as it appears to be. If a performer has sufficient imaginative faculty to do this—if he can so enter into the spirit of his part, as himself to believe in the marvels he professes, he will achieve an almost unlimited mastery over the imaginations of his audience.
As we have already intimated, each individual illusion should have its appropriate words and gestures—in technical language, its “patter,” or “boniment”—carefully arranged and rehearsed, so as to produce the maximum of effect. These are, in truth, the very life of the trick. How much depends on mise en scène is forcibly illustrated by the account which we quoted in the last chapter from the life of Robert-Houdin, of his exhibition in Algeria of the “Light and Heavy Chest.” We will borrow from the same high authority another illustration, purposely selecting one of the simplest of card tricks, the well-known feat of picking out a chosen card from the pack, placed in a person’s pocket. The trick has already been described in outline, but we will recapitulate its effect in a few words.
The performer offers the pack to a spectator, and requests him to draw a card. (This card may or may not be “forced.”) The card having been drawn and replaced in the pack, the performer makes the pass to bring it to the top, and palms it, immediately handing the pack to be shuffled. If the card was forced, he already knows it; if not, he takes the opportunity to glance at it while the cards are being shuffled. The pack being returned, the drawn card is placed on the top, and the pack placed in the pocket of a second spectator. The performer now announces that he not only already knows the card, but that he is able to pick it out without seeing it from the remainder of the pack, which he does accordingly.
Presented in this barren form, the trick would attract only the most passing notice. We will now proceed to describe it, quoting again from Robert-Houdin, as it should actually be presented.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I shall commence my performance with an experiment which is wholly independent of dexterity. I propose simply to show you the extreme degree of sensibility which may be acquired by the sense of touch. We possess, as you all know, five senses—sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste. In the ordinary way, each of these senses enjoys one faculty only; but when the mysterious influences of magic are brought to bear, the case is altered. All five of the senses may be exercised through the instrumentality of one—‘touch,’ for example; so that we can not only touch, but hear, see, smell, and taste with the tips of the fingers. You smile, gentlemen, but I assure you that I am serious; and I venture to think that in a few minutes you will be fully convinced of the reality of the singular fact which I have mentioned.
“Here is a pack of cards. Madam, will you be kind enough to take whichever card you please; hold it for a moment between your hands, so as to impregnate it with the mesmeric influence of your touch, and then replace it in the middle of the pack.