those marvels which are exhibited on the public stage. The student may rest assured that, if he will diligently follow the instructions here given, he will be able in due time, not merely to astonish his friends extempore with a borrowed coin or pack of cards, but to roll two rabbits into one, compel chosen cards to rise spontaneously from the pack, produce lighted lanterns from empty hats, and bowls of gold-fish from empty pocket-handkerchiefs; in a word, to execute all those wonders which he has hitherto deemed the exclusive property of the public performer. There are, of course, different degrees of natural aptitude. “Non cuivis hominum contingit adire Corinthum.” It is not every one that can be a Robert-Houdin or a Buatier, but, given the usual number of fingers and thumbs, fair intelligence, and a sufficiency of perseverance, any one who will may become at least a tolerable conjuror. Be it remembered, that we especially stipulate for perseverance. A wizard is not to be made in a day, and he who would attain excellence must be content to proceed as he would with music, drawing, or any other accomplishment—viz., begin at the beginning, and practise diligently until he attains the coveted dexterity. The student need not, however, wait the termination of the somewhat formidable course of study we have indicated, before he begins to astonish his friends; on the contrary, there are numerous tricks requiring very little manual dexterity, which are yet, if neatly performed, brilliant in effect. These simpler tricks, for which we shall give full instructions, will supply the beginner, even at the outset, with a fair programme, which he may from time to time enlarge as he feels able to undertake more elaborate illusions.
The first rule to be borne in mind by the aspirant is this: “Never tell your audience beforehand what you are going to do.” If you do so, you at once give their vigilance the direction which it is most necessary to avoid, and increase tenfold the chances of detection. We will give an illustration. There is a very good trick (which will be described at length hereafter) in which the performer, after borrowing a handkerchief, gives it to some one to hold. When it is returned, it proves to be torn into small pieces. It is again handed to the holder, who is instructed, in order to restore it, to rub it in a particular manner; but when again unfolded, it is found in a long strip. These effects are produced by successive adroit substitutions, and the whole magic of the trick consists in the concealment of the particular moment at which each substitution is effected. Now, if you were to announce to the audience beforehand that you were about to cause the handkerchief to appear in several pieces, or in a long strip, they would at once conjecture that the trick depended on an exchange, and their whole vigilance being directed to discover the moment of that exchange, you would find it all but impossible to perform the trick without detection. If, on the other hand, you merely roll up the handkerchief, and ask some one to hold it, the audience, not knowing what you are about to do, have no reason to suspect that you have handed him a substitute; and when the transformation is exhibited, the opportunity of detection will have already passed away.
It follows, as a practical consequence of this first rule, that you should never perform the same trick twice on the same evening. The best trick loses half its effect on repetition, but besides this, the audience know precisely what is coming, and have all their faculties directed to find out at what point you cheated their eyes on the first occasion. It is sometimes hard to resist an encore, but a little tact will get you out of the difficulty, especially if you have studied, as every conjuror should do, the variation and combination of tricks. There are a score of different ways of vanishing a given article, and as many of reproducing it; and either one of the first may be used in conjunction with either of the second. Thus, by varying either the beginning or the end, you make the trick to some extent a new one. The power of doing this readily is very useful, and among other advantages will enable you to meet an encore by performing some other trick having some element of similarity to that which you have just completed, but terminating in a different and therefore unexpected manner.
The student must cultivate from the outset the art of “talking,” and especially the power of using his eyes and his tongue independently of the movement of his hands. To do this, it will be necessary to prepare beforehand not only what he intends to do, but what he intends to say, and to rehearse frequently and carefully even the simplest trick before attempting it in public. It is surprising how many little difficulties are discovered on first attempting to carry into effect even the clearest written directions; and nothing but practice will overcome these difficulties. The novice may be encouraged by assuming, as he safely may, that the most finished of popular performers was once as awkward as himself, and were he to attempt any unfamiliar feat, would probably be as awkward still.
Before proceeding to the practice of the magic art, it will be well to give a short description of two or three appliances, which are of such constant use that they may be said to form the primary stock-in-trade of every conjuror. These are—a short wand, a specially adapted table, and certain secret pockets in the magician’s dress. There are numerous other appliances of very general use, which will be explained in due course, but those we have named are so indispensable that we could hardly complete the description of half-a-dozen tricks of any pretension without a reference to one or other of them. First in order comes
THE MAGIC WAND.
This is a light rod of twelve to fifteen inches in length, and about three-quarters of an inch in diameter. It may be of any material, and decorated in any manner which the fancy of the owner may dictate. To the uninitiated its use may appear a mere affectation, but such is by no means the case. Apart from the prestige derived from the traditional properties of the wand, and its use by the wizards of all ages, it affords a plausible pretext for many necessary movements, which would otherwise appear awkward and unnatural, and would thereby arouse the vigilance of the audience at possibly the most critical period of the trick. Thus, if the performer desires to hold anything concealed in his hand, by holding the wand in the same hand he is able to keep it closed without exciting suspicion. If it is necessary, as frequently happens, to turn his back upon the audience for an instant, the momentary turn to the table, in order to take up or lay down the wand, affords the required opportunity. We most strongly advise the would-be magician to cultivate from the outset the habitual use of the wand. Even where its employment is not absolutely necessary for the purpose of the trick, its use is in strict accordance with the character he professes to fill, and the dainty touch of the wand, for the supposed purpose of operating a magical transformation, assists materially in leading the audience to believe that such transformation did actually take place at that particular moment, instead of having been (as is really the case) secretly effected at an earlier period.
The next appliance to which we must draw the student’s attention is
THE MAGICIAN’S TABLE.
There are plenty of good minor tricks which may be performed anywhere, and with little or no previous preparation, but as soon as the student has outgrown these humbler feats, and aspires to amuse his friends or the public with a pre-arranged séance, his first necessity will be a proper table. We do not now refer to the elaborate combination of traps, pistons, etc., which is used for stage performances. This will be duly described in its proper place. The table necessary for an average drawing-room exhibition differs from an ordinary table in two points only—its height, which should be six or eight inches greater than that of an ordinary table—and the addition of a hidden shelf or ledge at the back. Its form and dimensions are very much a matter of fancy and convenience. For most purposes nothing is better than a plain oblong deal table. It should have turned legs of some harder wood, stained and polished, and these, if it is desired to make the table portable, should be screwed into the four corners, so as to be readily taken off and put on again as may be required. In length the table may be three to four feet, and in breadth eighteen inches to two feet. Three feet by twenty inches is a very convenient size. At the back should be placed, about six inches below the level of the top of the table, a projecting shelf, six to eight inches in width, and extending nearly from end to end. This shelf, which