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was once a wealthy merchant called Melchior of Bremen, who always laughed and stroked his chin very complacently when the preacher read the parable of the rich man in the Gospel, whom, in comparison with himself, he considered but a poor pedlar. Such, indeed, was his wealth, that he had the floor of his banqueting-room paved with dollars; for luxury, though of a more substantial kind, was prevalent in those rude times, as well as now: and while his friends and fellow-citizens were not much pleased at such a proof of his ostentation, yet it was, in fact, intended more as a mercantile speculation than for idle display. He was sagacious enough to see that reports would go abroad of his excessive wealth, which would greatly add to his credit even among those who censured his vanity. This was exactly the case; his idle capital of old dollars so prudently, as well as ostentatiously employed, brought large returns of interest: it was a visible bond of payment, which gave vigour to all the wily merchant’s undertakings. Yet, in the end, it proved the rock upon which the stability of his house was wrecked: