The portal was now thronged by a crowd of shadowypeople， with whom the Man of Fancy had been acquaintedin his visionary youth. He had invited them hither forthe sake of observing how they would compare， whetheradvantageously or otherwise， with the real characters towhom his maturer life had introduced him. They werebeings of crude imagination， such as glide before a youngman’s eye， and pretend to be actual inhabitants of theearth； the wise and witty， with whom he would hereafterhold intercourse； the generous and heroic friends， whosedevotion would be requited with his own； the beautifuldream-woman， who would become the help-mate of hishuman toils and sorrows， and at once the source andpartaker of his happiness. Alas！ it is not good for the fullgrown man to look too closely at these old acquaintances，but rather to reverence them at a distance， through themedium of years that have gathered duskily between.
There was something laughably untrue in their pompousstride and exaggerated sentiment； they were neitherhuman， nor tolerable likenesses of humanity， but fantasticmasquers， rendering heroism and nature alike ridiculous bythe grave absurdity of their pretensions to such attributes.
And as for the peerless dream-lady， behold！ there advancedup the saloon， with a movement like a jointed-doll， a sort ofwax figure of an angel—a creature as cold as moonshine—anartifice in petticoats， with an intellect of pretty phrases， andonly the semblance of a heart—yet， in all these particulars，the true type of a young man’s imaginary mistress. Hardlycould the host’s punctilious courtesy restrain a smile， as hepaid his respects to this unreality， and met the sentimentalglance with which the Dream sought to remind him of theirformer love-passages.
“No， no， fair lady，” murmured he， betwixt sighing andsmiling； “my taste is changed！ I have learned to love whatNature makes， better than my own creations in the guiseof womanhood.”
“Ah， false one！” shrieked the dream-lady， pretending tofaint， but dissolving into thin air， out of which came thedeplorable murmur of her voice— “your inconstancy hasannihilated me！”
“So be it，” said the cruel Man of Fancy to himself— “anda good riddance， too！”
Together with these shadows， and from the same region，there came an uninvited multitude of shapes， which， atany time during his life， had tormented the Man of Fancyin his moods of morbid melancholy， or had haunted himin the delirium of fever. The walls of his castle in the airwere not dense enough to keep them out； nor would thestrongest of earthly architecture have availed to theirexclusion. Here were those forms of dim terror， which hadbeset him at the entrance of life， waging warfare with hishopes. Here were strange uglinesses of earlier date， suchas haunt children in the night time. He was particularlystartled by the vision of a deformed old black woman，whom he imagined as lurking in the garret of his nativehome， and who， when he was an infant， had once come tohis bedside and grinned at him， in the crisis of a scarletfever. This same black shadow， with others almost ashideous， now glided among the pillars of the magnificentsaloon， grinning recognition， until the man shudderedanew at the forgotten terrors of his childhood. It amusedhim， however， to observe the black woman， with themischievous caprice peculiar to such beings， steal up tothe chair of the Oldest Inhabitant， and peep into his halfdreamymind.
“Never within my memory，” muttered that venerablepersonage， aghast， “did I see such a face！”
Almost immediately after the unrealities just described，arrived a number of guests， whom incredulous readersmay be inclined to rank equally among creatures ofimagination. The most noteworthy were an incorruptiblePatriot； a Scholar without pedantry； a Priest withoutworldly ambition， and a Beautiful Woman withoutpride or coquetry； a Married Pair， whose life had neverbeen disturbed by incongruity of feeling； a Reformer，untrammelled by his theory； and a Poet， who felt nojealousy towards other votaries of the lyre. In truth，however， the host was not one of the cynics who considerthese patterns of excellence， without the fatal flaw， suchrarities in the world； and he had invited them to his selectparty chiefly out of humble deference to the judgment ofsociety， which pronounces them almost impossible to bemet with.
“In my younger days，” observed the Oldest Inhabitant，“such characters might be seen at the corner of everystreet.”
Be that as it might， these specimens of perfectionproved to be not half so entertaining companions aspeople with the ordinary allowance of faults.
But now appeared a stranger， whom the host had nosooner recognized， than， with an abundance of courtesyunravished on any other， he hastened down the wholelength of the saloon， in order to pay him emphatic honor.