assuming, as it passed through them, all the prismatic colours.
I had mentioned these experiments and ideas to a few of my friends, one of whom spoke of it to Mr. Lumley, the lessee of the Italian Opera House. He thought it promised well, and ultimately I made a series of experiments in the great concert-room.
Ropes were stretched across the room, on which were hung in innumerable forms large sheets of patent net. The various folds and bondings displayed the lights under endless modifications. Some brilliant greens, some fiery reds, blues of the brightest hue. Another of these was an almost perfect resemblance of the dead purple powdery coating of the finest grapes.
Things being thus prepared, I had a consultation with the eminent chef-de-ballet as to the kind of dance and the nature of the steps to be adapted to these gorgeous colours. Thus having invented the "Rainbow Dance" I became still more ambitious, and even thought of writing a story to introduce it, and to give it a moral character. Hence arose the beautiful ballet of 'Alethes and Iris.'
Alethes, a priest of the Sun, surrounded by every luxury that earth can lay at the feet of its god, feels, like all before him, that the most glorious life is sad without a companion to sympathize with his feelings and share in his enjoyments. He makes, therefore, a magnificent sacrifice to the god of this visible creation, and prays for the gratification of his solitary desire.
Apart from all the inferior orders of his class, in the midst of clouds of incense, the high priest himself becomes entranced.
He beholds in a vision a distant and lonely spot of bright
