“Easy—abundantly easy！” answered the successful man，smiling， but with a stern and almost frightful contractionof the brow， as if to quell an inward pang. “I have beenengaged in various sorts of business—a distiller， a traderto Africa， an East India merchant， a speculator in thestocks—and， in the course of these affairs， have contractedan incumbrance of a certain nature. The purchaser of theestate shall merely be required to assume this burthen tohimself.”
“I understand you，” said the Man of Intelligence， putting hispen behind his ear. “I fear that no bargain can be negotiatedon these conditions. Very probably， the next possessor mayacquire the estate with a similar incumbrance， but itwill be of his own contracting， and will not lighten yourburthen in the least.”
“And am I to live on，” fiercely exclaimed the stranger，“with the dirt of these accursed acres， and the granite ofthis infernal mansion， crushing down my soul； How， if Ishould turn the edifice into an almshouse or a hospital， ortear it down and build a church？”
“You can at least make the experiment，” said theIntelligencer； “but the whole matter is one which youmust settle for yourself.”
The man of deplorable success withdrew， and got intohis coach， which rattled off lightly over the woodenpavements， though laden with the weight of much land， astately house， and ponderous heaps of gold， all compressedinto an evil conscience.
There now appeared many applicants for places； amongthe most note-worthy of whom was a small， smoke-driedfigure， who gave himself out to be one of the bad spiritsthat had waited upon Doctor Faustus in his laboratory.
He pretended to show a certificate of character， which， heaverred， had been given him by that famous necromancer，and countersigned by several masters whom he hadsubsequently served.
“I am afraid， my good friend，” observed the Intelligencer，“that your chance of getting a service is but poor. Nowa-days， men act the evil spirit for themselves and theirneighbors， and play the part more effectually than ninetynineout of a hundred of your fraternity.”
But， just as the poor fiend was assuming a vaporousconsistency， being about to vanish through the floor insad disappointment and chagrin， the editor of a politicalnewspaper chanced to enter the office， in quest of ascribbler of party paragraphs. The former servant ofDoctor Faustus， with some misgivings as to his sufficiencyof venom， was allowed to try his hand in this capacity.
Next appeared， likewise seeking a service， the mysteriousMan in Red， who had aided Buonaparte in his ascent toimperial power. He was examined as to his qualificationsby an aspiring politician， but finally rejected， as lackingfamiliarity with the cunning tactics of the present day.
People continued to succeed each other， with as muchbriskness as if everybody turned aside， out of the roar andtumult of the city， to record here some want， or superfluity，or desire. Some had goods or possessions， of which theywished to negotiate the sale. A China merchant had losthis health by a long residence in that wasting climate； hevery liberally offered his disease， and his wealth along withit， to any physician who would rid him of both together. Asoldier offered his wreath of laurels for as good a leg as thatwhich it had cost him， on the battle-field. One poor wearywretch desired nothing but to be accommodated with anycreditable method of laying down his life； for misfortuneand pecuniary troubles had so subdued his spirits， thathe could no longer conceive the possibility of happiness，nor had the heart to try for it. Nevertheless， happeningto overhear some conversation in the Intelligence Office，respecting wealth to be rapidly accumulated by a certainmode of speculation， he resolved to live out this one otherexperiment of better fortune. Many persons desired toexchange their youthful vices for others better suitedto the gravity of advancing age； a few， we are glad to say，made earnest efforts to exchange vice for virtue， and， hardas the bargain was， succeeded in effecting it. But it wasremarkable， that what all were the least willing to give up，even on the most advantageous terms， were the habits，the oddities， the characteristic traits， the little ridiculousindulgences， somewhere between faults and follies， ofwhich nobody but themselves could understand thefascination.
The great folio， in which the Man of Intelligencerecorded all these freaks of idle hearts， and aspirations ofdeep hearts， and desperate longings of miserable hearts，and evil prayers of perverted hearts， would be curiousreading， were it possible to obtain it for publication.
