TO return, in conclusion, to the incidents of my own lifetime devoted to the beloved art of magic, there are many happy memories which shine as beacon lights in a pleasant past.

I have had, I suppose, my share of compliments--enough, at least, for my liking and deserts--but the praise I prized most perhaps was the recognition of my fellow-conjurers on February 22nd, 1913, when they presented me with an illuminated address with the following words:

St. George's Hall, London. Those whose names are written below ask you to accept from us this tribute to your work as a magician. Your career has been honourable, alike to yourself and to the cause of magic. It is worthy of the praise of the magicians of the world, and, as representing them, we give it that praise. Throughout it you have aimed high; throughout it you have striven consistently for artistic perfection; throughout it you have attained that perfection; throughout it you have been an influence for good in the matter of the public taste as regards amusements; throughout it, in a phrase, you have been a magician without fear and without reproach. The art of magic is the richer and the fuller for your work. The effects of that work are apparent, too, and are fully appreciated by all of us. We realize that much of the present great popularity of magic, much of the public esteem now enjoyed by magicians, is due to you. You were one of the company of artists who appeared at the recent Music Hall Royal Command Performance at the Palace Theatre, London. Your inclusion in that small but distinguished company was a compliment to yourself. It was also a compliment to your fellow magicians. Their work was recognized as well as yours. They shared with you the applause of the King and Queen at the conclusion of your turn. Among the subscribers to this address are British magicians, American magicians, French magicians, German magicians, and magicians of other nationalities; so far as our art is concerned, however, we can on occasion be one people without regard to geographical boundaries. This is such an occasion. We join together to-day to express our appreciation of your work and our admiration of your achievements. As representing the magicians of the world, we congratulate you on your past triumphs, we prophesy for you triumphs as great in the years to come, and we assure you a permanent place in the hierarchy of Magic.

This was signed by most of the principal conjurers all over the world. The presentation included a handsome service of silver plate, and was given at St. George's Hall during a reception at which four hundred friends attended a never-to-be-forgotten night.

I have had, too, my experience of the reverse side of the picture of life. Troubles seemed to commence for me, as for so many others, with the Great War. I began to show signs of a nervous breakdown, and I decided, on the advice of doctors, to give up the anxiety of the St. George's Hall. I reached an amicable settlement at which the other partners bought out my share, and the Maskelynes once more became the sole owners of the property. My dear old Chief passed away in 1918, and his grandsons are still carrying on the business. Long may it flourish!

In spite of the war, I was still carrying on a triumphant tour through the provinces, though my career as an actual performer was nearing its end. A nervous disease called paralysis agitans overcame me at last, and has incapacitated me from giving any performances since 1920.

To-day I am still giving lessons and producing effects, my love of magic as real and as unquenchable as it was fifty years ago, when, as a boy, I first bought my shilling trick. I fear I shall never tread the stage again, but if I have upheld the great traditions of our beloved art, then, at least, I am content.