[Footnote 1:  See p. 265.]

The man who directs the sympathetic machine, wills the figures from his imagination or memory, this being part of the art in which he is skilled.

In your planet, you do not know the extent of the power of the Will; and yet it is the Will—­the Will of the Soul—­which sets our vital electricity in motion, directs it on particular parts of its own machine—­the brain—­or on the sentient faculties of others.  This same vital electricity can be used with greater force and certainty of direction, when assisted by the instrument which I have called “the sympathetic machine.”

THE DEAF AND DUMB CHILD.

I have seen one little girl deaf and dumb—­the only instance in my time—­in consequence of a fright her mother had experienced.  The child was of so nervous a temperament, that she could not be taught anything intellectual.  She was lovely, with long hair that fell about her in graceful curls, and in whatever way she sat, moved, or reclined, her poses and movements were angelic.

It was found that the only thing which would awaken her dormant senses was electricity; and that, under its influence, she would be well and happy.

This child was at length taught to remain for some time together in one of her beautiful poses.

The circus in which I saw her is built close to a mountain or steep ascent, which rises almost perpendicularly to a great height.  By the power of an attractive electricity, she would be made—­whilst in one of her beautiful poses—­to rise gradually, and to be borne flying, as it were, in the air.  She would then be made to alight on the top of the high rock, where a halo of concentrated light was thrown on her; this clung about her, attracted by a solution with which her dress was sponged.  The light was calculated to remain undissipated for half an hour.

After some time, and having taken the most graceful poses, encircled with the lovely halo, the child would glide off the rock and descend slowly and gracefully through the air—­with the varied colours of the halo about her—­as though she were a being of the celestial stars.

Of all exhibitions, I have never seen any more beautiful than this.  It served admirably to raise, refine, and rouse the spectator to enthusiasm.

THE MONKEYS.

On the other hand, some of our electric exhibitions produce mirth.  For instance, the effect of electricity on the monkeys in Montalluyah—­who are very sagacious, having faces white like a human being, and talking like parrots—­is ludicrous in the extreme.  When engaged in chewing and eating their favourite nuts, they find themselves, in spite of their cunning, raised to a great height, without seeing the man underneath their pedestal, who impels them upwards with antipathetic electricity.

When they are thus in the air, and, in spite of all efforts, unable to descend, their antics are of the drollest kind.  They, in turn, threaten and entreat the audience, but are soon reassured and liberally rewarded for the parts they have played in amusing the public.