Anderson had an indomitable spirit which no misfortune could daunt. He received the “bludgeonings of Fate” like a hero, and was “Captain of his soul” through a thousand and one vicissitudes of life. He built on Glasgow Green one of the largest theatres in Scotland, and it was burnt to the ground, three months after its erection. A fortune was lost in the terrible fire. In 1851 he came to America and met with unbounded success. Returning to England in 1856, he engaged Covent Garden Theatre. In March of that year this great play-house was destroyed by fire, and Anderson lost his splendid and costly {174} apparatus. On top of this disaster came the bankruptcy of the Royal British Bank, and that event completely swallowed up the remains of the wizard’s fortune. But he was undaunted. Borrowing funds from his friends, he bought new paraphernalia, and toured the world. After an absence of five years he returned to England, January 11, 1863. He had traveled 235,000 miles and “had passed through his hands the enormous sum of £157,000 sterling.” He died at Darlington, Scotland, on Tuesday, February 3, 1874. In accordance with a wish expressed during his last illness, he was buried at Aberdeen, in the same grave with his beloved mother. No inscription on the tombstone records the fact that the Wizard of the North lies beneath. What was the secret of Anderson’s success? He was not a great magician in the sense of the word—that is to say, an adept at legerdemain, an original creative genius like Houdin, Robin, and the elder Herrmann. But he was an actor who played the role of necromancer with great effect. He surrounded himself with costly and brilliant apparatus which dazzled the eyes of the groundlings. His baggage weighed tons and filled many trunks and boxes. He believed in heavy artillery, like Napoleon I. The dashing Hussar style was not his. That branch of conjuring belongs to Frikell and De Kolta. Strange to say, in spite of the revolution in the art of magic since Anderson’s day, we are coming back to the big paraphernalia of the old school. The public is tired of small tricks. A discussion of this subject will be found in the article on Frikell.