Well if it do not, Pilatre-like, explode; and demount all the more tragically!--So, riding on windbags, will men scale the Empyrean.
Or observe Herr Doctor Mesmer, in his spacious Magnetic Halls.
Long-stoled he walks; reverend, glancing upwards, as in rapt commerce; an Antique Egyptian Hierophant in this new age.

Soft music flits; breaking fitfully the sacred stillness.

Round their Magnetic Mystery, which to the eye is mere tubs with water,--sit breathless, rod in hand, the circles of Beauty and Fashion, each circle a living circular Passion-Flower: expecting the magnetic afflatus, and new-manufactured Heaven-on-Earth.

O women, O men, great is your infidel-faith! A Parlementary Duport, a Bergasse, D'Espremenil we notice there; Chemist Berthollet too,--on the part of Monseigneur de Chartres.
Had not the Academy of Sciences, with its Baillys, Franklins, Lavoisiers, interfered! But it did interfere.

(Lacretelle, 18me Siecle, iii.258.) Mesmer may pocket his hard money, and withdraw.