“True,” he replied; “this man’s conduct cannot be explained upon any rational principles—­but he is one of the Glonglims, of which I have spoken to you; and examples are not wanting on our planet, of conduct as irreconcilable to reason.  This man is making an article which is scarce, as well as useful, in this country, where gravity is less than it is with us:  the force of the wind is very great, and the metal is possessed but by a few.  Now, if you suppose these nails to be pieces of gold and silver, his conduct will be precisely that of some of our misers, who waste their days and nights in hoarding up wealth which they never use, nor mean to use; but, denying themselves every comfort of life, anxiously and unceasingly toil for those who are to come after them, though they are so far from feeling, towards these successors, any peculiar affection, that they often regard them with jealousy and hatred.”

While we thus conversed, there stepped up to us a handsome man, foppishly dressed in blue trowsers, a pink vest, and a red and white turban; who, after having shaken my companion by the ears, according to the custom of the country among intimate friends, expressed his delight at seeing him again in Morosofia.  He then went on, in a lively, humorous strain, to ridicule the nail-smith, and told us several stories of his singular attachment to his nails.  In the midst of these sallies, however, a harsh looking personage in brown came up, upon which the countenance of our lively acquaintance suddenly changed, and they walked off together.

“I apprehend,” said the Brahmin, “that my gay acquaintance yonder continues as he formerly was.  The man in brown, who so unseasonably interrupted his pleasantry, is an officer of justice, and has probably taken him before a magistrate, to answer some one of his numerous creditors.  You must know,” added he, “that the people of the moon, however irrational themselves, are very prompt in perceiving the absurdities of others:  and this lively wit, who, as you see, wants neither parts nor address, acts as strangely as the wretch he has been ridiculing.  He inherited a large estate, which brought him in a princely revenue; and yet his desires and expenses so far outgo his means, that he is always in want.  Both he and the nailmaker suffer the evils of poverty—­ of poverty created by themselves—­which, moreover, they can terminate when they please; but they must reach the same point by directly opposite roads.  The blacksmith will allow himself nothing—­the beau will deny himself nothing:  the one is a slave to pleasure—­the other, the victim of fear.  I told you that there were but few whose estates produced the metal of which these nails are made; and this thoughtless youth happens to be one.  A few years since, he wanted some of the blacksmith’s nails to purchase the first rose of the season, and pledged his mines to pay, at the end of the year, three times the amount he received in exchange; and