Chapter VII: Friendly Suggestions (1)

As the amateur will aspire to come before his parlor audience some day or other, it may be some little service and help to him to give a few suggestions as to the best way of conducting such an exhibition, and to specify the kind of tricks to which he will do well to limit himself. It will be desirable to open with an off-hand expression of his wish to place before them a few amusing tricks to wile away an hour; and let him assume a lively air, for his own liveliness will sustain that of the spectators.

There are some conjurors who, though they can perform good tricks, exhibit them in such a heavy, uninteresting way that they create no enthusiasm. An over-anxious look, coupled with a creeping, fearful movement, and a dull, monotonous voice, will suggest distrust and dissatisfaction, even where the audience has come together prepossessed with the expectation of mirth and glee. Let none assume, then, to wave the conjuror’s wand till he has himself some confidence in his powers, knows what he purposes to do, and means to carry it out. I would say that a moderate degree of assumption, a gay vivacity, ready to break out into a smile, a cheerful spirit, and a joyous voice, will go a great way to bespeak favor, which the performer can quickly repay by dashing off his tricks with enthusiasm. The language used by the conjurer should be studiously guarded. Let there be no vain-glorious assertions, no self-praise, but respectful deference to the judgment of the spectators; rather inclining to give them the credit of understanding more than they do, than twitting them with understanding less. Be neither overbearing with conceited “chaff” upon any of the company; nor, on the other hand, venture upon extreme and disconcerting compliments to any person present. Rather, as a courteous master of the ceremonies, conduct the experiments with a simple effort to please and to amuse all. With the exhibition of an amateur, the performance of some lively airs upon the piano by any friend will form an agreeable accompaniment, especially if the spirited and humorous melodies are introduced, which the public taste recognizes as the tunes of the day. You will do well to have your table neatly and carefully arranged. Let it not lie too near to the spectators, nor within reach of too minute inspection. It should be of sufficient height to show the main objects placed on it; but the surface of it may be just high enough to be sheltered from the spectators clearly viewing every article upon it. The ornaments should be few, yet, at the same time, be serviceable to shade a few articles which it may be policy to conceal.

1. The centre table may be a moderate-sized kitchen table, with a drawer to stand open; so that the performer can take any article out of the drawer with one hand, while engaging the eyes of the spectators with his other hand. A colored cloth should be over the tables, on the side towards the spectators.

2. Two small tables, at the sides of the centre table, may also be useful, as in Fig. 23.

3. With tables arranged somewhat in this manner, the amateur will be able to take up articles, from either the surface or back of the tables, without attracting notice to his doing so. He must practise taking up things with one hand, while his other hand and his eyes are ostensibly occupied with some other object; for if the spectators see him looking behind his table, their eyes will immediately follow in the same direction.

The amateur will do well to select the simpler tricks for his first attempts, and never pretend to exhibit even those without having frequently and diligently practised them. He must make up his resolution to train his hands to the passes, and to the several manœuvres in the tricks, as diligently as young ladies train their fingers to the keys of the piano.

And let them not be discouraged if they feel awkward and nervous at first. Some of the best conjurors have candidly confessed their early failings and misgivings. With practice and perseverance this will, in most cases, wear off. I would augur that, if they feel an interest in the art, and a desire to excel in it, they will most probably secure a measure of success that will amply repay their efforts.

TRICK 25.—The Conjuror’s “Bonus Genius,” or Familiar Messenger.

This is an old trick that has delighted thousands, and may amuse thousands more, if adroitly performed. There are only the simplest mechanical arrangements connected with it; its successful exhibition depends upon the dexterity and vivacity of the performer.

PREPARATION.

You must have a strong wooden doll, about eight or ten inches high; the head must fix on or off by a peg at the bottom of the throat, being placed in a hole made at the top of the bust. Besides a close-fitting dress to its body, a large, loose, fantastic cloak must be placed round the whole figure, but must be so arranged as to allow the head to be pushed down through the part of the cloak that covers the bust, and an elastic pocket must be neatly made inside the cloak to receive and retain the head.

Having the above apparatus ready, you may commence by saying:

“Allow me, ladies and gentlemen, to introduce my learned friend and assistant—indefatigable in traveling to the most distant parts on any message I may wish to send him. He used to be recognized by early conjurors as their Bonus Genius—their good familiar spirit. But, whatever his special title, he is gifted with the art of rendering himself visible or invisible, as he feels disposed, while he travels to distant countries.

“Allow me to call your attention to the solid frame and unflinching nerves, at any rate to the well-seasoned constitution of my friend. [Rap him loudly, rap, rap, rap, on the table.] The raps he received during his education doubtless accustomed him to bear much without flinching. Though his travels have ranged from China to Peru, from the Equator to the Poles, you perceive he still sounds like a hardy Pole himself. (Rap, rap, rap.)

“I perceive, however, by the glaring of his eye, that, after my too rough handling, he is desirous of starting on his travels. I suppose we must provide him with the needful for his expenses. Large sums are given now-a-days to special correspondents in foreign countries; who will kindly give him sufficient? He will want a golden or silver key to open some curiosities he may wish to inspect in foreign cities. (Pause.) Oh, well, as there is a delay about it, I must myself supply him. I think I have a few disposable coins in my pocket: he shall have them.”

Suiting the action to the word, while your left hand holds the upper part of the cloak near the neck, so as to cover what you are doing, you withdraw the wooden body with your right hand, while you move your right hand down to your pocket for the coins. You then leave the body of the doll in your pocket, and taking out the coins, present them to the head and cloak of the figure, which is held in your left hand, saying: “There, my good friend, you can now, if you wish, proceed on your tour to Algiers, or Dahomey, or Timbuctoo, or wherever the universal Yankee travelers fancy at the present to resort.

“Ah, I see he is pleased and in good spirits again. He wishes apparently to bid you good-bye. You will excuse his looking also round about him, to judge whether the weather is fair to set out; after which I will lay my hand on his head to express my good wishes for his journey. I dare say he will not stay much longer after that than a schoolboy does after his master has bid him good-bye.”

Place with formal ceremony your hand on his head, press it down through the opening below it, receive it in your left hand underneath the cloak, and bestow it safely in the pocket.

Affect astonishment at finding the gown alone left in your hands, and fold it up with a lamentation at his departure. You may say: “It is clear that he has chosen to go to a hot climate, as he has left his cloak behind him.”

Discourse for a few minutes about sending a telegram to overtake him at London or San Francisco—talk about the sea-passage, railways, tunnels, and what not.

“Ah, but I need none of these if I wish him back. I can summon him again by a few mystic wavings of my wand and by secret art. Hey, my friend, I need thy presence; quick, return, I pray you. I wish to see you again in your familiar garb—

By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something ghostly hither comes.”

Swell out the cloak with your left hand, and at the same time thrust up the head from the pocket. It will appear as if the whole figure stood before them.

Then say: “I fear, dear friend, I have trespassed by abridging your tour. You can hardly have traversed Algeria, crossed the mountains of the moon, or found the birthplace of the Nile; and no one returns now-a-days without some such marvel to relate. I will let you depart again. As some people say to troublesome visitors: ‘You may depart now; please to call again to-morrow.’”

Repeat the manœuvre, as before, of secreting the head. Then exclaim: “Alas! he is gone in earnest, like the sojourner of a day (with mock pathos.) When we have lost him, we feel our loneliness.”

Fold up sorrowfully the cloak of the departed, and so conclude the trick.

TRICK 26.—The Shower of Money.

A dozen silver coins, or pennies, will be equally useful in exhibiting this trick; but some fictitious coin, in color resembling gold, will perhaps more effectively delight those who are charmed by the yellow glitter of the precious metal. The performer must have provided himself with so many of these in his left hand as he purposes to produce at the end of the trick, and two of the same coin also must be concealed in his right palm. He must further borrow a hat from one of the company.

The imagination of the spectators having been excited by the expectation of beholding a shower of money, the adept in sleight-of-hand, keeping one of the two coins in his right hand concealed, must advance the other coin to the end of his forefinger and thumb, while he pretends to pick a coin out of the candle, or of the rim of a hat, or from a lady’s fan or shoulder, or may pretend to clutch a coin floating in the air. As he brings away his prize, he may rattle it against the other coin concealed in his right hand. Then, making Pass 1, he may pretend to pass it into the hat, being careful precisely at the same moment to drop, audibly, a coin from his left hand into the hat which he holds in that hand. Let him tell the audience to keep count how many he collects: it will rather distract their attention.

He can continue this pleasant appearance of acquiring wealth for ten minutes, or as long as he can devise various methods of appearing to clutch it, till the number with which he stored his left hand is exhausted.

He may then request some one to count out, audibly, into a plate the coins collected in the hat, which will coincide with the number he has appeared to collect so magically from various sources. When adroitly done, this trick is very pleasing and effective.

TRICK 27.—To Furnish Ladies With a Magic Supply of Tea or Coffee, at their selection, From One and the Same Jug.

PREPARATION.

Have a metal jug to hold not less than three pints. It must be constructed with two compartments in the lower part of it, holding about a pint and a quarter each, and these must each have a pipe connected with the spout of the jug and another pipe connecting with its handle, and in the handle a small hole about the size of a letter—o—in this print. These lower compartments must be filled with good tea and coffee before the jug is produced.

The upper chamber or compartment, like the upper portion of a patent coffee-pot, must have no communication with the lower divisions, and must be well closed also at the top with a tin cover, closely fitting. Have half a dozen small tea-cups and half a dozen small coffee-cups ready on a tray.

Begin the trick by placing openly in the upper compartment coffee-berries and tea, mixing them together. Take up, as a sudden thought, an old blacking bottle, and pretend to pour from it into the jug, to furnish highly-colored liquid to improve the coffee; and a little gunpowder, about a teaspoonful, may be fired off over the mixture to make the tea strong. Wave your wand over the jug.

Then you may address the ladies: inform them that the ingredients are well mixed, and invite them to name which they will prefer, “tea or coffee,” as you can produce either at their command from the same jug.

Get some friend to hand the cups, while you follow him, and, by unstopping the holes in the handle for admitting air upon the coffee or tea, the one of them that each lady names will flow out from the spout of this magic jug.

TRICK 28.—A Pleasing Exhibition for both the Performer and the Audience to view when they feel a little Exhausted.

PREPARATION.

Have two pint bottles and one quart bottle; the pint bottles to be filled, one with a liquid resembling port, the other with one resembling sherry; the large bottle to be at first empty. Three opaque metal stands—the centre one to stand under the quart bottle, to have a large cavity to hold a quart, and the upper part of this stand to be full of large holes, like a cullender, for the liquor to run from the opening at H into that cavity.

You must also have three metal covers, of proper size to cover the above three bottles—these covers to have handles at top, so as to be easily lifted. The large centre cover is simply a cover; but the two side ones, which are to cover the pint bottles, must be made with metal cavities large enough to hold, one a pint of port, the other a pint of sherry, at top, with a descending pipe to fall into the mouths of the pint bottles.

There must be a small hole at top of each of the small covers, at B and C, which hole, being covered with tinfoil, will, as long as it is closed, prevent the wine from running out at D. But when the tinfoil is scraped off, and the hole admits the air, the wine will then be able to run into the pint bottles.

The above apparatus being all ready, commence by saying: “I will now pour this pint of port and this pint of sherry into the large bottle, mixing them inseparably together.” Having done so, remove the stopper at bottom of the large bottle as you place it on its stand, and immediately place the large cover over it. The mixed liquid will gradually run out into the concealed cavity in the stand.

You must now talk a little magic nonsense, to draw off the attention, while you place the special covers over each of the small bottles, so that the descending pipes in the covers fit in the necks of the bottles. Remove the tinfoil with which you had covered the holes at A and B.

With a few magic waves of your wand, and words of art, say: “I shall now cause the mixed liquids in the centre bottle to appear severally in their own original bottles.” Let the covers remain a few seconds. Clap your hands, saying: “Change, begone!” Lift the centre cover: the large bottle will be seen to be empty. Lift successively the covers from the small bottles: they will be seen to have each their proper wine—one port, the other sherry.

TRICK 29.—To Furnish a Treat to the Gentlemen.

For this the magic bottle must be procured. One with three or four compartments is amply sufficient. In these place gin, sherry, and port wine, respectively. The bottle will have three or four holes, on which you place your fingers as if stopping the holes of a flute. You may have a bucket of water and a common bottle, resembling the magic one in size and appearance, near your table. Have ready also a tray of wine-glasses of thick glass, and holding only a very small quantity.

Exhibit the common bottle to the audience, and then place it on your table, and direct attention to some of the other articles on your table. “Now I must begin my experiment. I will wash and drain my bottle, that you may see the experiment from the beginning to the end.” Place it in the bucket, and while shaking it about, and letting the water run out, exchange it for the magic bottle lying by the bucket. Wipe that carefully with a napkin, as if drying it, and calling two or three of the audience forward at a time, inquire which they prefer. Have the stops according to alphabetical order to prevent your mistaking—gin, port, sherry. Continue supplying the small glasses as called for, till your bottle gets nearly empty, and then pour them out indiscriminately. There will have been sufficient to satisfy the most eager.

But if you wish to continue the trick, yen may have a second magic bottle prepared in the same way, and you will easily, while propounding some magic charm and gesticulating, make some pretence that will enable you to exchange the empty for the second bottle, and so proceed.

VENTRILOQUISM MADE EASY.

WHAT IS VENTRILOQUISM?

Before we take the reader into the precise and minute instructions which he will have to study and practice ere he can become the possessor of the coveted art, it will be necessary to inform him what Ventriloquism[1] is, and in what it consists. In doing so, we shall endeavor to be as plain and clear as possible. Ventriloquism may be divided into two sections, or general heads, the first of which may be appropriately designated as Polyphonism, and consists of the simple imitation of the voices of human creatures, of animals, of musical instruments, and sounds and noises of every description in which no illusion is intended, but where, on the contrary, the imitation is avowedly executed by the mimic, amongst which we may classify sawing, planing, door-creaking, sounds of musical instruments, and other similar imitations.

[1] Literally signifying belly-speaking, from _venter_, the belly, and _loquor_, I speak.

Secondly, we have ventriloquism proper, which consists in the imitation of such voices, sounds, and noises, not as originating in him, but in some other appropriate source at a given or varying distance, in any or even in several directions, either singly or together—a process exciting both wonder and amusement, and which may be accomplished by thousands who have hitherto viewed the ventriloquist as invested with a power wholly denied by nature to themselves. It is needless to observe, that when the imitations are effected without a movement of mouth, features, or body, the astonishment of the audience is considerably enhanced.

The terms polyphony, mimicry, or imitation, are employed to designate results obtained in reference to the first division of the subject, where no illusion is intended; while the term ventriloquism distinguishes those under the second division, where an illusion is palpably produced. The first is much more common than the latter; indeed, there is scarcely a public school which does not possess at least one boy capable of imitating the mewing of a cat, the barking of a dog, or the squeaking voice of an old woman. On the other hand, from a want of the knowledge of _how_ to proceed, it is very seldom that even a blundering attempt at ventriloquism is heard, except from a public platform.

There have been many statements put forward defining ventriloquism, but we are decidedly of opinion that the theory of two of the most celebrated of foreign ventriloquists, Baron de Mengen and M. St. Gille, who were sufficiently unselfish to avow the secret of their art, is not only the most correct, but it is at once the most reasonable and the most natural.

From Baron de Mengen’s account of himself, and the observations made by M. de la Chapelle, in his frequent examinations of St. Gille, whom we shall afterwards refer to, it seems that the factitious ventriloquist voice does not (as the etymology of the word imports) proceed from the belly, but is formed in the inner parts of the mouth and throat.

The art does not depend on a particular structure or organization of these parts, but may be acquired by almost any one ardently desirous of attaining it, and determined to persevere in repeated trials.

The judgments we form concerning the situation and distance of bodies, by means of the senses mutually assisting and correcting each other, seem to be entirely founded on experience; and we pass from the sign to the thing signified by it immediately, or at least without any intermediate steps perceptible to ourselves.

Hence it follows that if a man, though in the same room with another, can by any peculiar modifications of the organs of speech, produce a sound which, in faintness, tone, body, and every other sensible quality, perfectly resembles a sound delivered from the roof of an opposite house, the ear will naturally, without examination, refer it to that situation and distance; the sound which he hears being only a sign, which from infancy he has become accustomed, by experience, to associate with the idea of a person speaking from a house-top. A deception of this kind is practised with success on the organ and other musical instruments.

Rolandus, in his “Aglossostomographia,” mentions, that if the mediastinum, which is naturally a single membrane, be divided into two parts, the speech will seem to come out of the breast, so that the bystanders will fancy the person possessed.

Mr. Gough, in the “Manchester Memoirs,” vol. v. part ii. p. 622 London, 1802, investigates the method whereby men judge by the ear of the position of sonorous bodies relative to their own persons.

This author observes, in general that a sudden change in direction of sound, our knowledge of which, he conceives, does not depend on the impulse in the ear, but on other facts, will be perceived when the original communication is interrupted, provided there be a sensible echo. This circumstance will be acknowledged by any person who has had occasion to walk along a valley, intercepted with buildings, at the time that a peal of bells is ringing in it. The sound of the bells, instead of arriving constantly at the ears of the person so situated, is frequently reflected in a short time from two or three different places. These deceptions are, in many cases, so much diversified by the successive interpositions of fresh objects, that the steeple appears, in the hearer’s judgment, to perform the part of an expert ventriloquist on a theatre—the extent of which is adapted to its own powers, and not to those of the human voice.

The similarity of effect which connects this phenomenon with ventriloquism, convinced the author, whenever he heard it, that what we know to be the cause in one instance, is also the cause in the other, viz., that the echo reaches the ear, while the original sound is intercepted by accident in the case of the bells _but by art_, in the case of the ventriloquist.

It is the business of the ventriloquist to amuse his admirers with tricks resembling the foregoing delusion; and it will be readily granted that he has a subtle sense, highly corrected by experience to manage, on which account the judgment must be cheated as well as the ear.

This can only be accomplished by making the pulses, constituting his words strike the heads of his hearers, not in the right lines that join their persons and his. He must therefore, know how to disguise the true direction of his voice; because the artifice will give him an opportunity to substitute almost any echo he chooses in the place of it. But the superior part of the human body has been already proved to form an extensive seat of sound, from every point of which the pulses are repelled as if they diverge from a common centre. This is the reason why people, who speak in the usual way, cannot conceal the direction of their voices, which in reality _fly off towards all points at the same instant_. The ventriloquist, therefore, by some means or other, acquires the difficult habit of _contracting_ the field of sound within the _compass of his lips_, which enables him to confine the real path of his voice to narrow limits. For he who is master of his art has nothing to do but to place his mouth obliquely to the company, and to dart his words out of his mouth—if the expression may be used—whence they will then strike the ears of the audience as that from an unexpected quarter. Nature seems to fix no bounds to this kind of deception, only care must be taken not to let the path of the direct pulses pass too near the head of the person who is played upon, but the divergency of the pulses make him perceive the voice itself. Our readers will, therefore, not be surprised that the French Academy adopted this view of the subject, and laid down that the art consists in an _accurate imitation of any given sound as it reaches the ear_. In conformity with a theory so incontrovertible, physiologists have suggested a variety of movements of the vocal organs to explain still further the originating cause; and some have gone so far as to contend for a peculiarity of structure in these organs as an essential requirement; but they have wisely omitted to specify what. Nothing, however, can be more accurate than the description of “the _essence_” of ventriloquy in the “English Cyclopædia”—namely, that it “_consists in creating illusions as to the distance and direction whence a sound has travelled_.” How those sounds are produced, we shall show in another chapter.

VENTRILOQUISM AMONGST THE ANCIENTS.

Charles Lamb gave utterance to the thought that it was “pleasant to contemplate the head of the Ganges,” but the student of ventriloquism finds it difficult to obtain a view of the source of his art. In the dim and misty ages of antiquity, he may trace under various guises the practice of it. Many of the old superstitions were fostered by its means; from the cradle of mankind to the birthplace of idolatry, we incidentally learn of the belief in a familiar spirit—a second voice, which afterwards took the form of divination.

The various kinds of divination amongst the nations of antiquity which were stated by the priesthood to be by a spirit, a familiar spirit, or a spirit of divination, are now supposed to have been effected by means of ventriloquism. Divination by a familiar spirit can be tracked through a long period of time. By reference to Leviticus xx. 27 it will be seen that the Mosaic law forbade the Hebrews to consult those having familiar spirits, and to put to death the possessor. The Mosaic law was given about fifteen hundred years before Christ. Divining by a familiar spirit was, however, so familiar to the Jews, that the prophet Isaiah draws a powerful illustration from the kind of voice heard in such divination, see Isaiah xxix. 4.

There can be little doubt but the Jews became acquainted with this voice during their compulsory captivity in Egypt. In many of the mysteries which accompanied the worship of Osiris, the unearthly voice speaking from hidden depths of unknown heights was common. Some philosophers have imagined that a series of tubes and acoustical appliances were used to accomplish these mysterious sounds. The statute of Memnon will instantly suggest itself as a familiar instance. The gigantic stone-head was heard to speak when the first rays of the worshipped sun glanced on its impassive features. The magic words were undoubtedly pronounced by the attendant priest, for we find a similar trick prevalent throughout the whole history of ventriloquism, and even now the public professors of the art know how much depends on fixing the attention of their audience on the object or place from whence the sound is supposed to proceed. The Jews carried the art with them into Palestine, for we trace the agency throughout their history.

The Greeks practised a mode of divination termed gastromancy, where the diviner replied without moving his lips, so that the consulter believed he heard the actual voice of a spirit speaking from its residence within the priest’s belly.

In the Acts of the Apostles (xvi. 16), mention is made of a young woman with a familiar spirit meeting the Apostles in the city of Philippi, in Macedonia,—St. Chrysostom and other early Fathers of the Christian Church mention divination by a familiar spirit as practised in their day. The practice of similar divination is still common in the East; it lingers on the banks of the Nile, and is even practised among the Esquimaux. This divination by a familiar spirit has been practised upwards of three thousand years.

MODERN PROFESSORS OF THE ART.

The earliest notice of ventriloquial illusion, as carried out in modern times, has reference to Louis Brabant, _valet-de-chambre_ of Francis I., who is said to have fallen in love with a beautiful and rich heiress, but was rejected by the parents as a low, unsuitable match. However, the father dying, he visits the widow; and on his first appearance in the house she hears herself accosted in a voice resembling that of her dead husband, and which seemed to proceed from above. “Give my daughter in marriage to Louis Brabant, who is a man of great fortune and excellent character. I now endure the inexpressible torments of purgatory, for having refused her to him; obey this admonition and I shall soon be delivered; you will provide a worthy husband for your daughter, and procure everlasting repose to the soul of your poor husband.”

The dread summons, which had no appearance of proceeding from Louis, whose countenance exhibited no change, and whose lips were close and motionless, was instantly complied with; but the deceiver, in order to mend his finances for the accomplishment of the marriage contract, applies to one Cornu, an old and rich banker at Lyons, who had accumulated immense wealth by usury, and extortion, and was haunted by remorse of conscience. After some conversation on demons and spectres, the pains of purgatory, &c., during an interval of silence, a voice is heard, like that of the banker’s deceased father, complaining of his dreadful situation in purgatory, and calling upon him to rescue him from thence, by putting into the hands of Louis Brabant, then with him, a large sum for the redemption of Christians in slavery with the Turks; threatening him at the same time with eternal damnation if he did not thus expiate his own sins. Upon a second interview, in which his ears were saluted with the complaints and groans of his father, and of all his deceased relations, imploring him, for the love of God, and in the name of every saint in the calendar, to have mercy on his own soul and others, Cornu obeyed the heavenly voice, and gave Louis 10,000 crowns, with which he returned to Paris, and married his mistress.

The works of M. L’Abbe La Chapelle, issued 1772, and before alluded to, contain descriptions of the ventriloquial achievements of Baron Mengen at Vienna; and those of M. St. Gille, near Paris, are equally interesting and astonishing. The former ingeniously constructed a doll with moveable lips, which he could readily control by a movement of the fingers under the dress; and with this automaton he was accustomed to hold humorous and satirical dialogues. He ascribed proficiency in his art to the frequent gratification of a propensity for counterfeiting the cries of the lower animals, and the voices of persons with whom he was brought in contact. So expert, indeed, had practice rendered him in this way, that the sounds uttered by him did not seem to issue from his own mouth. La Chapelle, having heard many surprising circumstances related concerning one M. St. Gille, a grocer at St. Germainen-Laye, near Paris, whose powers as a ventriloquist had given occasion to many singular and diverting scenes, formed the resolution of seeing him. Being seated with him on the opposite side of a fire, in a parlor on the ground floor, and very attentively observing him, the Abbe, after half an hour’s conversation with M. St. Gille, heard himself called, on a sudden, by his name and title, in a voice that seemed to come from the roof of a house at a distance; and whilst he was pointing to the house from which the voice had appeared to him to proceed, he was yet more surprised at hearing the words, “it was not from that quarter,” apparently in the same kind of voice as before, but which now seemed to issue from under the earth at one of the corners of the room. In short, this factitious voice played, as it were, everywhere about him, and seemed to proceed from any quarter or distance from which the operator chose to transmit it to him. To the Abbe, though conscious that the voice proceeded from the mouth of M. St. Gille, he appeared absolutely mute while he was exercising his talent; nor could any change in his countenance be discovered. But he observed that M. St. Gille presented only the profile of his face to him while he was speaking as a ventriloquist.

On another occasion, M. St. Gille sought for shelter from a storm in a neighboring convent; and finding the community in mourning, and inquiring the cause, he was told that one of their body, much esteemed by them, had lately died. Some of their religious attended him to the church, and showing him the tomb of their deceased brother, spoke very feelingly of the scanty honors that had been bestowed on his memory, when suddenly, a voice was heard, apparently proceeding from the roof of the choir, lamenting the situation of the defunct in purgatory, and reproaching the brotherhood with their want of zeal on his account. The whole community being afterwards convened in the church, the voice from the roof renewed its lamentations and reproaches, and the whole convent fell on their faces, and vowed a solemn reparation. Accordingly, they first chanted a _De profundis_ in full choir; during the intervals of which the ghost occasionally expressed the comfort he received from their pious exercises and ejaculations in his behalf. The prior, when this religious service was concluded, entered into a serious conversation with M. St. Gille, and inveighed against the incredulity of our modern sceptics and pretended philosophers on the article of ghosts and apparitions; and St. Gille found it difficult to convince the fathers that the whole was a deception.

M. St. Gille, in 1771, submitted his attainments in this direction to several experiments before MM. Leroy and Fouchy, Commissioners of the Royal Academy of Sciences, and other persons of exalted rank, in order to demonstrate that his mimicry was so perfect as to reach the point of complete illusion. For this purpose a report was circulated that a spirit’s voice had been heard at times in the environs of St. Germain, and that the commission was appointed to verify the fact. The company, with the exception of one lady, were apprised of the real nature of the case, the intention being to test the strength of the illusion upon her. The arrangement was that they should dine together in the country, in the open air; and while they were at table, the lady was addressed in a supernatural voice, now coming from the top of adjoining trees, then descending until it approached her, next receding and plunging into the ground, where it ceased. For upwards of two hours was this startling manifestation continued with such adroitness that she was convinced the voice belonged to a person from another world, and subsequent explanation failed to convince her to the contrary.

M. Alexandre, the famous ventriloquist, had an extraordinary facility in counterfeiting all the expressions of countenance and bodily conditions common to humanity. When in London, his mimetic powers, which he was fond of exercising both in public and private, made his company in high request among the upper circles. The Lord Mayor of the City, in particular, received the ventriloquist with great distinction, and invited him several times to dine at the Mansion House. But it unluckily happened that on every occasion when M. Alexandre dined there, he could not stay to spend the evening, having contracted engagements elsewhere. The Lord Mayor expressed much regret at this, and the ventriloquist himself was annoyed on the same account, being willing to do his best to entertain the guests whom the Lord Mayor had asked each time to meet him.

At last, on meeting M. Alexandre one day, the Lord Mayor engaged him to dine at the Mansion House on a remote day. “I fix it purposely,” said his lordship, “at so distant a period, because I wish to make sure this time of your remaining with us through the evening.” Through fear of seeming purposely to slight his lordship, M. Alexandre did not dare to tell the Mayor that on that very morning he had accepted an invitation from a nobleman of high rank to spend at his house the evening of the identical day so unfortunately pitched on by the civic dignitary. All the ventriloquist said in reply was, “I promise, my lord to remain at the Mansion House, till you, yourself think it time for me to take my leave.” “Ah, well,” said the Lord Mayor, and he went off perfectly satisfied.

At the appointed day Alexandre sat himself down at the magistrate’s board. Never had the ventriloquist comported himself with so much spirit and gaiety. He insisted on devoting bumpers to each and every lady present.

The toasts went round, the old port flowed like water, and the artiste in particular seemed in danger of loosing his reason under its potent influence. When others stopped, he stopped not, but continued filling and emptying incessantly. By and by, his eyes began to stare, his visage became purple, his tongue grew confused, his whole body seemed to steam of wine, and finally he sank from his chair in a state of maudlin, helpless insensibility.

Regretting the condition of his guest, the Lord Mayor got him quietly lifted, and conveyed to his own carriage, giving orders for him to be taken home to his lodgings. As soon as M. Alexandre was deposited there, he became a very different being. It was now ten o’clock, and but half an hour was left to him to prepare for his appointed visit to the Duke of ——’s _soiree_. The ventriloquist disrobed himself, taking first from his breast a quantity of sponge which he had placed beneath his waist coat, and into the pores of which he had, with a quick and dexterous hand, poured the greater portion of the wine which he had apparently swallowed.

Having washed from his person all tokens of his simulated intoxication, and dressed himself anew, M. Alexandre then betook himself to the mansion of the nobleman to whom he had engaged himself.

On the following day the fashionable newspapers gave a detailed account of the grand party at his Grace the Duke of ——’s, and eulogized to the skies the entertaining performances of M. Alexandre, who, they said, had surpassed himself on this occasion. Some days afterwards, the Lord Mayor encountered M. Alexandre. “Ah, how are you?” said his lordship. “Very well, my lord,” was the reply. “Our newspapers are pretty pieces of veracity,” said his lordship. “Have you seen the _Courier_ of the other day? Why, it makes you out to have exhibited in great style last Thursday night at his Grace of ——’s!” “It has but told the truth,” said the mimic. “What? impossible!” cried the Mayor. “You do not remember, then, the state into which you unfortunately got at the Mansion House?” And thereupon the worthy magistrate detailed to the ventriloquist the circumstances of his intoxication, and the care that had been taken with him, with other points of the case. M. Alexandre heard his lordship to an end, and then confessed the stratagem which he had played off, and the cause of it.

“I had promised,” said Alexandre, “to be with his Grace at half-past ten. I had also promised not to leave you till you yourself considered it fit time. I kept my word in both cases—you know the way.” The civic functionary laughed heartily, and on the following evening Alexandre made up for his trick by making the Mansion House ring with laughter till daylight.

Many anecdotes are told respecting M. Alexandre’s power of assuming the faces of other people. At Abbotsford, during a visit there, he actually sat to a sculptor five times in the character of a noted clergyman, with whose real features the sculptor was well acquainted. When the sittings were closed and the bust modelled, the mimic cast off his wig and assumed dress, and appeared with his own natural countenance, to the terror almost of the sculptor, and to the great amusement of Sir Walter and others who had been in the secret.

Of this most celebrated ventriloquist it is related that on one occasion he was passing along the Strand, when a friend desired a specimen of his abilities. At this instant a load of hay was passing along near Temple Bar, when Alexandre called attention to the suffocating cries of a man in the centre of the hay. A crowd gathered round and stopped the astonished carter, and demanded why he was carrying a fellow-creature in his hay. The complaints and cries of the smothered man now became painful, and there was every reason to believe that he was dying. The crowd, regardless of the stoppage to the traffic, instantly proceeded to unload the hay into the street. The smothered voice urged them to make haste, but the feelings of the people may be imagined when the cart was empty and nobody was found, while Alexandre and his friend walked off laughing at the unexpected results of their trick.

It would be obviously invidious to compare the merits of living professors. Mr. Maccabe, Mr. Gallagher, Mr. Thurton and Mr. Macmillan have long been favorites with the public.

THE THEORY OF VENTRILOQUISM.

Many physiologists aver that ventriloquism is obtained by speaking during the inspiration of air. It is quite possible to articulate under these circumstances, and the plan may with advantage be occasionally adopted; but our own practical experience and close observation of many public performers, and of not a few private friends who have attained distinctness and no small amount of facility in the art, convince us that the general current of utterance is, as in ordinary speech, during _expiration_ of the breath. Some imagine that the means of procuring the required imitation are comprised in a thorough management of the echoes of sound. Unfortunately, however, for this theory, an echo only repeats what has been already brought into existence. Several eminent ventriloquists, including the late Mr. Matthews, have displayed the vocal illusion while walking in the streets. Baron Mengen describes as follows his mode of speaking, when he desired the illusion to take the direction of a voice emanating from the doll: “_I press my tongue against the teeth, and then circumscribe a cavity between my left check and teeth, in which the voice is produced by the air held in reserve in the pharynx_. The sounds thus receive a hollow and muffled tone, which causes them to appear to come from a distance.” The Baron furthermore mentions that it is essential to have the breath well under control, and not to respire more than can be avoided. M. St. Gille was seen to look somewhat exhausted when the vocal illusion grew less perfect. We ourselves, and all ventriloquists with whom we have conferred, have acknowledged that they have experienced fatigue in the chest, and have attributed it to the slow expiration of the breath. M. St. Gille, with the majority of ventriloquists, was often compelled to cough during the progress of his exercitation.

To attain an exact and positive knowledge of the modifications of voice specified as ventriloquism, it is important to be familiar with the distinctions of the sounds uttered by the mouth; and to ascertain how the organs act in producing those vocal modifications, it is necessary to know how the breath is vocalized in all distinctions of pitch, loudness, and quality, by the ordinary actions of the vocal organs. In ordinary language, we speak of noise, of common sound, and of musical sound-terms employed by Dr. Thomas Young in illustrating the mechanical agencies of articulation:—“A quill striking against a piece of wood causes a noise, but striking successively against the teeth of a wheel, or of a comb, a continued sound, and, if the teeth of the wheel are at equal distances, and the velocity of the rotation is constant, a musical sound. The general terms—pitch, loudness, quality, and duration, embrace all the distinctions with which the musician has to deal, and which he uses in his art.”

The distinguishing feature of musical sound is its uniform pitch throughout its duration, and acoustically musical sound is composed of an equal number of impulses or noises produced in equal tones.

The general terms—pitch, loudness, quality, and duration, also embrace all the distinctions heard in ordinary sounds. These sounds differ from the musical in the pitch constantly varying throughout their duration, as the human voice in speaking, and the voice of quadrupeds. Acoustically such sounds are composed of an unequal number of impulses or noises produced in equal tones. And from this circumstance pitch, in the strictly musical sense, is not a property of ordinary sound.

The general terms—loudness and quality, embrace all the distinctions heard in a noise, as in the collision of two unelastic sticks. Pitch and duration can scarcely be considered as belonging to common noise. Thus we have—(1) noise whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms loudness and quality; (2) common sound, whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms—loudness, quality, duration, and every varying pitch; (3) musical sound, whose audible distinctions are comprehended under the general terms—loudness, quality, duration, and uniform pitch.

Phonation, or the production of voice, is a result of actions taking place under two distinct classes of laws—namely, the ordinary mechanical laws of acoustics, and the physiological laws of muscular movement. The adjustment of the vocal mechanism to be brought into operation by the current of air, is made by actions under the latter laws; and phonation is the result of the reaction of the mechanism on the current of air, by mechanical movements under the former laws. Now, the pitch of the voice essentially depends on the tension of the vocal ligaments; the loudness or the extent of the excursion of these ligaments in their vibration; the duration on the continuance of the vocalizing causes; the quality on the organization of the larynx, and also on the form and size of the vocal tube. The form and size of this tube can be altered in various ways—for instance, by dilating or contracting the pharynx; by dilating or contracting the mouth; by contracting the communication between the pharynx and mouth, so as to constitute them distinct chambers, or by dilating the opening so as to throw them into one, which is chiefly attained by movements of the soft palate; and by altering the form of the mouth’s cavity, which is effected by varying the position of the tongue. Each of these modifications of the vocal tube conveys a peculiarity of quality to the voice,—all, however, being local or laryngeal sounds. Moreover, sounds can be produced in the vocal tube, apart from the larynx. These, strictly speaking, are not vocal sounds, though some of them may be of a definite and uniform pitch, while others are mere noises—as rustling, whispering, gurgling, whistling, snoring, and the like. Now, as everything audible comes under the classes of noise, sound, or musical sound, and as each variety originates in the vocal apparatus of man, it is obvious that _an ordinary vocal apparatus is all that is required for the achievement of the feats_ of ventriloquism.

A person having an ear acutely perceptive to the nice distinctions of sounds, may, by a little practice, imitate many sounds with accuracy. Those persons, however, who are highly endowed with the mental requisites, which consist of an intense desire to mimic, coupled with the ability to originate mimetic ideas, are able to imitate sounds at first hearing.

We next proceed to treat of those illusions, where the voice so perfectly counterfeits the reality intended, that it appears not to issue from the mimic, but from an appropriate source, in whatever direction, and at whatever distance the source may be. We do not hear the distance which a sound has travelled from its source, but we judge the distance from our former experience, by comparing the loudness which we hear with the known distance and known loudness of similar sounds heard on former occasions. Common experience will prove that we oftener err in estimating the distance of uncommon than of familiar sounds. In apology for such an error, the ordinary language is, “It seemed too loud to come so far,” or “It seemed too near to be so faint a sound,” as the case may be,—both of which are apologies for an erroneous judgment, and not for faulty hearing. Near sounds are louder than distant ones. Now, by preserving the same _pitch_, _quality_, and _duration_, but with an _accurately graduated reduction of loudness_, a series forming a _perspective_ of sounds may be created, which, falling in succession on the ear, will suggest to the mind a constantly increasing distance of the sound’s source. The estimate, then, which is formed of the distance which a sound has travelled before reaching the ear is a judgment of the mind formed by comparing a present perception (by hearing) with the remembrance of a former loudness in connection with its known distance. With regard to direction, it is observed, “The direction whence a sound comes seems to be judged of by the right of left ear receiving the stronger impression, which, however, can only take place when the sound’s source is in a plane, or nearly so, with a line passing through both cars. It is familiarly known that a person in a house cannot by the noise of an approaching carriage judge with certainty whether it is coming from the right or left. He accurately judges it to be approaching, passing, or receding, as the case may be, by the gradations of loudness, but is unable to decide with certainty whether its approach or recession is from up or down the street. Enough has been stated to show that we do not _hear_, but that we judge _the direction a sound has travelled from its source on reaching the ear_.” The ventriloquist indicates, either directly or indirectly, the direction from which he wishes his audience to believe the sound is coming. Thus he directly indicates it by words, such as—“Are you up there?” “He is up the chimney,” “He is in the cellar,” “Are you down there?” &c., as illustrated in the various examples. He indirectly indicates it by some suggestive circumstance, as an action or gesture, which is so skilfully unobtrusive and natural as to effect its object without being discovered. Thus, when the ventriloquist looks or listens in any direction, or even simply turns towards any point, as if he expected sound to come thence, _the attention of an audience is by that means instantly directed also to the same place_. Thus, before a sound is produced, the audience expect it to come in the _suggested direction_; and the ventriloquist has merely, by his _adjustment of vocal loudness_, to indicate the necessary distance, when a _misjudgment of the audience will complete the illusion which he has begun_.

The effect which is produced on sound by its travelling from a distance, is observed to be:—

(1) That its loudness is reduced in proportion to its distance.

(2) That its _pitch_ remains unaltered.

(3) That its _quality_ or _tone_ is somewhat altered.

(4) That its duration remains unaltered.

(5) That the human speech is _somewhat obscured_, chiefly in the _consonant_ sounds.

It must be remembered that the ventriloquist makes the sound, not as it is heard at its source, _but as it is heard after travelling from a distance_.

THE MEANS BY WHICH IT IS EFFECTED.