It is certain, as we have seen, that when the kitchen-maid lights the
fire it is really Croesus who is lighting it, but it is less obvious
that when Croesus goes to a ball the scullery-maid goes also. Still,
this should be held in the same way as it should be also held that she
eats vicariously when Croesus dines. For he must return from the ball
and the dinner-parties, and this comes out in his requiring to keep a
large establishment whereby the scullery-maid retains her place as part
of his organism and is nourished and amused also.

On the other hand, when Croesus dies it does not follow that the
scullery-maid should die at the same time. She may grow a new Croesus,
as Croesus, if the maid dies, will probably grow a new kitchen-maid;
Croesus's son or successor may take over the kingdom and palace, and the
kitchen-maid, beyond having to wash up a few extra plates and dishes at
coronation time, will know little about the change. It is as though the
establishment had had its hair cut and its beard trimmed; it is
smartened up a little, but there is no other change. If, on the other
hand, he goes bankrupt, or his kingdom is taken from him and his whole
establishment is broken and dissipated at the auction-mart, then, even
though not one of its component cells actually dies, the organism as a
whole does so, and it is interesting to see that the lowest, least
specialised, and least highly differentiated parts of the organism, such
as the scullery-maid and the stable-boys, most readily find an entry
into the life of some new system, while the more specialised and highly
differentiated parts, such as the steward, the old housekeeper, and,
still more so, the librarian or the chaplain, may never be able to
attach themselves to any new combination, and may die in consequence. I
heard once of a large builder who retired unexpectedly from business and
broke up his establishment, to the actual death of several of his older