102 PARADAT 



out with a power of life which is quite wonderful. I am 

 about to use another kind of fuel, but one which is truly and 

 fairly a representative of the wax or tallow of a candle. I 

 have here a large ball of cotton, which will serve as a wick. 

 And, now that I have immersed it in spirit and applied a light 

 to it, in what way does it differ from an ordinary candle? 

 Why, it differs very much in one respect, that we have a 

 vivacity and power about it, a beauty and a life entirely dif- 

 ferent from the light presented by a candle. You see those 

 fine tongues of flame rising up. You have the same general 

 disposition of the mass of the flame from below upward, but, in 

 addition to that, you have this remarkable breaking out into 

 tongues which you do not perceive in the case of a candle. 

 Now, why is this? I must explain it to you, because, when 

 you understand that perfectly, you will be able to follow me 

 better in what I have to say hereafter. I suppose some here 

 will have made for themselves the experiment I am going to 

 show you. Am I right in supposing that any body here has 

 played at snapdragon? I do not know a more beautiful illus- 

 tration of the philosophy of flame, as to a certain part of its 

 history, than the game of snapdragon. First, here is the 

 dish ; and let me say, that when you play snapdragon properly 

 you ought to have the dish well warmed; you ought also to 

 have warm plums, and warm brandy, which, however, I have 

 not got. When you have put the spirit into the dish, you 

 have the cup and the fuel ; and are not the raisins acting like 

 the wicks? I now throw the plums into the dish, and light 

 the spirit, and you see those beautiful tongues of flame that 

 I refer to. You have the air creeping in over the edge of 

 the dish forming these tongues. Why? Because, through 

 the force of the current and the irregularity of the action 

 of the flame, it can not flow in one uniform stream. The air 

 flows in so irregularly that you have what would otherwise 

 be a single image broken up into a variety of forms, and 

 each of these little tongues has an independent existence of 

 its own. Indeed, I might say, you have here a multitude of 

 independent candles. You must not imagine, because you see 

 these tongues all at once, that the flame is of this particular 

 shape. A flame of that shape is never so at any one time, 

 Never is a body of flame, like that which you just saw rising 



