Let us take a peep over the reader’s shoulder, at the volume in his hand. It is the autobiography of “Robert-Houdin, conjurer, author, and ambassador.” And the reader is myself. O vanished years of boyhood: you still live in the magic mirror of memory! And intimately associated with those years is the mystic book of Robert-Houdin. Can I ever forget the enjoyment I had in poring over the faded yellow leaves of that fascinating work? Happy the youth who early dips into its golden pages. The Arabian Nights forms a fitting prologue to it. I followed Houdin in the Conjurer’s Caravan; rejoiced in his successes at the Palais Royal; and in far-off Algeria, watched him exhibiting his magic feats before the Marabouts.
Speaking of this autobiography, Professor Brander Matthews of Columbia College, New York, says: “These _Confidences of a Prestidigitateur_ are worthy of comparison with all but the very best autobiographies—if not with Cellini’s and Franklin’s, at least with Cibber’s and Goldoni’s. Robert-Houdin’s life of himself, quite as well as any of the others, would justify Longfellow’s assertion that ‘autobiography is what biography ought to be.’ ”
In my humble opinion Houdin’s autobiography is worthy to be classed with the best, even that of Cellini and Franklin; yes, even with Chateaubriand’s superb _Memories beyond the Tomb_. It is replete with interesting information about old time necromancers; constructors of automata; good stories of contemporary magicians; exposés of Marabout miracles; and last, but not least, the fascinating adventures of Houdin himself,—the archmaster of modern magic. It bears the stamp of truth on every page, and should be placed in the hands of all students of psychology and pedagogy. His _Trickeries of the Greeks_, an exposé of gambling devices, is also an interesting work and should be read in conjunction with his _Stage Magic_ and _Conjuring and Magic_.
The Confidences end with Houdin’s retirement from the stage to his villa at St. Gervais, near Blois. The book on { 125} _Conjuring and Magic_ gives us a slight sketch of his villa and the ingenious contrivances arranged therein for the amusement and mystification of visitors. The curtain, alas, then rings down on the scene. The theatre is left dark and cold. We are told nothing more concerning the great conjurer’s life, or the manner of his death. All is a blank. Through my own efforts, however, and those of my friends made in recent years, at my instigation, I have been able to supply the missing data. It is very entertaining indeed. But let us begin at the beginning.