A few held higher converse， which caused their calmand melancholy souls to beam moonlight from their eyes.
As I lingered near them—for I felt an inward attractiontowards these men， as if the sympathy of feeling， if notof genius， had united me to their order—my friendmentioned several of their names. The world has likewiseheard those names； with some it has been familiar foryears； and others are daily making their way deeper intothe universal heart.
“Thank heaven，” observed I to my companion， as wepassed to another part of the hall， “we have done withthis techy， wayward， shy， proud， unreasonable set of laurelgatherers.
I love them in their works， but have little desireto meet them elsewhere.”
“You have adopted an old prejudice， I see，” replied myfriend， who was familiar with most of these worthies，being himself a student of poetry， and not without thepoetic flame. “But so far as my experience goes， menof genius are fairly gifted with the social qualities； andin this age， there appears to be a fellow-feeling amongthem， which had not heretofore been developed. As men，they ask nothing better than to be on equal terms withtheir fellow-men； and as authors， they have thrown asidetheir proverbial jealousy， and acknowledge a generousbrotherhood.”
“The world does not think so，” answered I. “An authoris received in general society pretty much as we honestcitizens are in the Hall of Fantasy. We gaze at him as if hehad no business among us， and question whether he is fitfor any of our pursuits.”
“Then it is a very foolish question，” said he. “Now， hereare a class of men， whom we may daily meet on ’Change.
Yet what poet in the hall is more a fool of fancy that thesagest of them？”
He pointed to a number of persons， who， manifest asthe fact was， would have deemed it an insult to be toldthat they stood in the Hall of Fantasy. Their visages weretraced into wrinkles and furrows， each of which seemedthe record of some actual experience in life. Their eyeshad the shrewd， calculating glance， which detects soquickly and so surely all that it concerns a man of businessto know， about the characters and purposes of his fellowmen.
Judging them as they stood， they might be honoredand trusted members of the Chamber of Commerce，who had found the genuine secret of wealth， and whosesagacity gave them the command of fortune. There was acharacter of detail and matter-of-fact in their talk， whichconcealed the extravagance of its purport， insomuch thatthe wildest schemes had the aspect of everyday realities.
Thus the listener was not startled at the idea of cities tobe built， as if by magic， in the heart of pathless forests； andof streets to be laid out， where now the sea was tossing；and of mighty rivers to be staid in their courses， in orderto turn the machinery of a cotton-mill. It was only by aneffort—and scarcely then that the mind convinced itselfthat such speculations were as much matter of fantasy asthe old dream of Eldorado， or as Mammon’s Cave， or anyother vision of gold， ever conjured up by the imaginationof needy poet or romantic adventurer.
“Upon my word，” said I， “it is dangerous to listen to suchdreamers as these！ Their madness is contagious.”
“Yes，” said my friend， “because they mistake the Hallof Fantasy for actual brick and mortar， and its purpleatmosphere for unsophisticated sunshine. But the poetknows his whereabout， and therefore is less likely to makea fool of himself in real life.”
“Here again，” observed I， as we advanced a little further， “wesee another order of dreamers—peculiarly characteristic，too， of the genius of our country.”
These were the inventors of fantastic machines. Modelsof their contrivances were placed against some of thepillars of the hall， and afforded good emblems of the resultgenerally to be anticipated from an attempt to reduceday-dreams to practice. The analogy may hold in morals，as well as physics. For instance， here was the model of arailroad through the air， and a tunnel under the sea. Herewas a machine—stolen， I believe for the distillation ofheat from moonshine； and another for the condensationof morning-mist into square blocks of granite， wherewithit was proposed to rebuild the entire Hall of Fantasy. Oneman exhibited a sort of lens， whereby he had succeededin making sunshine out of a lady’s smile； and it was hispurpose wholly to irradiate the earth， by means of thiswonderful invention.
“It is nothing new，” said I， “for most of our sunshinecomes from woman’s smile already.”
“True，” answered the inventor； “but my machine willsecure a constant supply for domestic use—whereas，hitherto， it has been very precarious.”
Another person had a scheme for fixing the reflectionsof objects in a pool of water， and thus taking the mostlife-like portraits imaginable； and the same gentlemandemonstrated the practicability of giving a permanentdye to ladies’ dresses， in the gorgeous clouds of sunset.
There were at least fifty kinds of perpetual motion， oneof which was applicable to the wits of newspaper editorsand writers of every description. Professor Espy was here，with a tremendous storm in a gum-elastic bag. I couldenumerate many more of these Utopian inventions； but，after all， a more imaginative collection is to be found inthe Patent Office at Washington.
