“I had reserved for the last item of my programme a trick which, to use a familiar expression, I had at my fingers’ ends. In effect it was shortly as follows:—After having requested the spectators carefully to examine a large envelope sealed on all sides, I handed it to the Archbishop’s Grand Vicar, begging him to keep it in his own possession. Next, handing to the prelate himself a small slip of paper, I requested him to write thereon, secretly, a sentence, or whatever he might choose to think of; the paper was then folded in four, and (apparently) burnt. But scarcely was it consumed and the ashes scattered to the winds, than, handing the envelope to the Archbishop, I requested him to open it. The first envelope being removed a second was found, sealed in like manner; then another, until a dozen envelopes, one inside another, had been opened, the last containing the scrap of paper restored intact. It was passed from hand to hand, and each read as follows:— “ ‘Though I do not claim to be a prophet, I venture to predict, sir, that you will achieve brilliant success in your future career.’ {128} “I begged Monseigneur Affre’s permission to keep the autograph in question, which he very graciously gave me.” Poor Archbishop Affre; he was killed at the barricades in the Revolution of 1848. Though he confessed that he was no prophet, yet his prediction was fulfilled to the letter. Houdin became the foremost conjurer of his age, of any age in fact, and has left to posterity more than a name:—his fascinating memoirs, and several works in which the psychology of deception is treated in a masterly manner. The slip of paper given to him by the Archbishop he preserved as a religious relic. “I kept it,” he said, “in a secret corner of my pocket-book which I always carried about my person. During my travels in Algeria I had the misfortune to lose both this pocket-book and the precious object it contained.” After the séance recorded above, the Count de l’Escalopier urged Houdin continually to abandon the watchmaking and mechanical-toy trade and go on the stage as a prestidigitateur. Finally Houdin confessed his inability to do so, owing to lack of means, whereupon the kind-hearted nobleman exclaimed: “_Mon cher ami_, I have at home, at this very moment, ten thousand francs or so, which I really don’t know what to do with. Do me the favor to borrow them for an indefinite period: you will be doing me an actual service.” But Houdin would not accept the offer, for he was loth to risk a friend’s money in a theatrical speculation. The Count in a state of pique left the shop and did not return for many days. Then he rushed excitedly into the workroom, sank upon a chair, and exclaimed: