the wise, the witty, and the famous in every walk of life;
princes, presidents, poets, generals, artists, actors, and
philanthropists,--all making their own market at the fair, and
deeming no price too exorbitant for such commodities as hit their
fancy. It was well worth one's while, even if he had no idea of
buying or selling, to loiter through the bazaars and observe the
various sorts of traffic that were going forward.

Some of the purchasers, I thought, made very foolish bargains.
For instance, a young man having inherited a splendid fortune,
laid out a considerable portion of it in the purchase of
diseases, and finally spent all the rest for a heavy lot of
repentance and a suit of rags. A very pretty girl bartered a
heart as clear as crystal, and which seemed her most valuable
possession, for another jewel of the same kind, but so worn and
defaced as to be utterly worthless. In one shop there were a
great many crowns of laurel and myrtle, which soldiers, authors,
statesmen, and various other people pressed eagerly to buy; some
purchased these paltry wreaths with their lives, others by a
toilsome servitude of years, and many sacrificed whatever was
most valuable, yet finally slunk away without the crown. There
was a sort of stock or scrip, called Conscience, which seemed to
be in great demand, and would purchase almost anything. Indeed,
few rich commodities were to be obtained without paying a heavy
sum in this particular stock, and a man's business was seldom
very lucrative unless he knew precisely when and how to throw his
hoard of conscience into the market. Yet as this stock was the
only thing of permanent value, whoever parted with it was sure to
find himself a loser in the long run. Several of the speculations
were of a questionable character. Occasionally a member of