In a little while the figure reappeared. The fleshless skull was merged into the face of my friend. He stepped out of the box, throwing aside the shroud, and greeted me with a merry laugh. Other people volunteered to undergo the death scene. After the exhibition was over one of the Capuchins passed around a skull for penny contributions, and we left the place. Now for an explanation of the illusion. A sheet of glass is placed obliquely across the stage in front of the coffin. At the side of this stage, hidden by the proscenium, is another coffin containing a skeleton robed in white. When the electric lights surrounding the first coffin are turned off and the casket containing the skeleton highly illuminated, the spectators see the reflection of the latter in the glass and imagine that it is the coffin in which the volunteer has been placed. To resurrect the man the lights are reversed. {107} THE ROMANCE OF AUTOMATA. “ ‘What!’ I said to myself, ‘can it be possible that the marvelous science which raised Vaucanson’s name so high—the science whose ingenious combinations can animate inert matter, and impart to it a species of existence—is the only one without its archives?’ ”—ROBERT-HOUDIN. I. Automata have played an important part in the magic of ancient temples, and in the séances of mediæval sorcerers. Who has not read of the famous “Brazen Head,” constructed by Friar Bacon, and the wonderful machines of Albertus Magnus? Modern conjurers have introduced automata into their entertainments with great effect, as witness Pinetti’s “Wise Little Turk,” Kempelen’s “Chess Player,” Houdin’s “Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal,” Kellar’s “Hindoo Clock,” Maskelyne’s “Psycho,” etc. But these automata have been such in name only, the motive power usually being furnished by the conjurer’s _alter ego_, or concealed assistant. The so-called automaton Chess Player is enveloped with a halo of romance. It had a remarkable history. It was constructed in the year 1769 by the Baron von Kempelen, a Hungarian nobleman and mechanician, and exhibited by him at the leading courts of Europe. The Empress Maria Theresa of Austria played a game with it. In 1783 it was brought to Paris and shown at the Café de la Regence, the rendezvous of chess lovers and experts, after which it was taken to London. Kempelen died on the 26th of March, 1804, and his son sold the Chess Player to J. N. Maelzel, musician, inventor and mechanician, who was born at Ratisbon, Bavaria, in 1772. His father was a celebrated organ-builder. {108}