"Monsieur Robert-Houdin, will you be kind enough to step up to the box-office: I wish to speak to you."
My readers will guess that the ventriloquist had played me a trick; indeed, on reaching the office, I only found the clerk, who could not understand what I was talking about. I perceived, too late that I was victimised, and I heard Comte celebrating his victory by shouts of laughter. For a moment, I confess I felt vexed at having been taken in, but I soon regained my equanimity on thinking I might have the best of it yet. So I went down stairs very calmly.
"What did that person want?" Comte asked, with ill-repressed delight.
"It was a penitent thief, who begged me to return you the articles he had filched from you. Here they are, my master!"
"I prefer it to end so!" Comte said, returning his pocket to its place. "We are now quits, and I hope we shall always be good friends."
From all the preceding remarks it may be concluded that the fundamental principles of Comte's performances were mystifying gentlemen (sovereigns excepted), complimenting ladies, and jesting with everybody. Comte was right in employing these means, as he generally gained his object; for he delighted and raised a laugh. At this period French manners justified such behavior, and the professor, by flattering the taste and instincts of the public, was sure to please.
There has been a great change since, and puns are no longer held in such esteem; banished from good society, they have sought refuge in studios, when the pupils too often make an immoderate use of them, and though they may be permitted now and then among intimate friends, they are not proper in a performance of sleight-of-hand. The reason is very simple: not only do puns raise a belief that the artist fancies himself a wit, which may be injurious to him, but, if he succeed in raising a laugh, it weakens the interest felt in his experiments.
It is a recognised fact that, in those performances where imagination plays the chief part, "astonishment is a hundred-fold better than a silly laugh;" for, though the mind may remember what has delighted it, laughter leaves no trace on the memory.
Symbolical or complimentary language is also completely out of fashion, at least the age does not err in excess of gallantry, and "musky" compliments would be badly received in public. I have always thought, too, that ladies visit a performance like mine in order to refresh their minds, and not to be put in evidence themselves. They possibly prefer to remain simple lookers-on rather than expose themselves to florid compliments.