Ladies and Gentlemen,

In calling your attention to a deceptive entertainment, Legerdemain, more generally known as Conjuring, a few introductory remarks may not be out of place. The superstition that existed in the early ages, when wizards and magicians were supposed to exist, time has not worn out; the mystery that hangs over all professors of magic is still in part retained. Many there are who class them amongst supernatural beings, their seeming impossibilities are converted into positive realities, their power supposed to be supreme. Now, were I, in this the twentieth century, to stand before you professing to be a wizard or a magician—or, in fact, to be that which I am not—endowed with supernatural power, it would be looked upon as a gross insult to your good sense; for in truth the only peculiarity of my profession is to deceive—yours to detect. If my hands are quicker than your eyes, I shall have the pleasure of deceiving you; but, on the contrary, if your eyes are quicker than my hands, the reverse will be the result.