py.

This child was at length taught to remain for some time together in one
of her beautiful poses.

The circus in which I saw her is built close to a mountain or steep
ascent, which rises almost perpendicularly to a great height. By the
power of an attractive electricity, she would be made--whilst in one of
her beautiful poses--to rise gradually, and to be borne flying, as it
were, in the air. She would then be made to alight on the top of the
high rock, where a halo of concentrated light was thrown on her; this
clung about her, attracted by a solution with which her dress was
sponged. The light was calculated to remain undissipated for half an
hour.

After some time, and having taken the most graceful poses, encircled
with the lovely halo, the child would glide off the rock and descend
slowly and gracefully through the air--with the varied colours of the
halo about her--as though she were a being of the celestial stars.

Of all exhibitions, I have never seen any more beautiful than this. It
served admirably to raise, refine, and rouse the spectator to
enthusiasm.

THE MONKEYS.

On the other hand, some of our electric exhibitions produce mirth. For
instance, the effect of electricity on the monkeys in Montalluyah--who
are very sagacious, having faces white like a human being, and talking
like parrots--is ludicrous in the extreme. When engaged in chewing and
eating their favourite nuts, they find themselves, in spite of their
cunning, raised to a great height, without seeing the man underneath
their pedestal, who impels them upwards with antipathetic electricity.

When they are thus in the air, and, in spite of all efforts, unable to
descend, their antics are of the drollest kind. They, in turn, threaten
and entreat the audience, but are soon reassured and liberally rewarded
for the parts they have played in amusing the public.

Apart from the contemplation of electrical effects, these amusements may
appear somewhat puerile. It should therefore be observed that our people
generally retain to the last an almost child-like freshness of feeling,
which renders them keenly susceptible to the most innocent pleasures.
The tragic drama is for us extinct. Towards the middle of my reign,
plays based upon crime ceased to be heard with pleasure, as the new
generation, trained under the wholesome influence of my laws, could
scarcely understand a plot relating to passions entirely foreign to
their nature. The writers for