enough to buy them, and because it is understood that a fine house
should have a library and a gallery. Is it otherwise with his glass
and porcelain? What do you think that he could tell you of Dresden
china--its history, its masters, its manufacture? You say that very
few people could tell you much about it. Granted; but if a man
surrounds himself with it, and forces it upon your attention, you have
a right not only to ask such questions, but to expect answers.

"My dear Mrs. Grundy, when I was a young man on my travels, and was
introduced at a London club, the porter, or the major-domo, or the
door-keeper, or whatever he was, seemed to me like a peer of the
realm. He was faultlessly dressed, and he had most tranquil manners.
Well, our good friend Midas is that gentleman. He is the curator of a
fine museum. He opens the door to a well-furnished club. But he is in
no proper sense master of his house. The master of such a house, as
Goethe said of the picture-owner, is the man to whom you can say,
'Show me the best.' Poor Midas could only show us the costliest. Eh,
Mrs. Grundy?"

That excellent lady's eyes had expanded, during these remarks, until
they were fixed in a round, stony stare at the cheerful cosmopolitan.

"And this, you see, my good lady, is the reason that all this display
is called vulgar. It represents nothing but money. It does not
represent taste, or intelligence, or talent, in the possessor, and the
sole relation between him and his possessions is his ability to pay
for them. You drink his superior wines. But even you, Mrs. Grundy, are
not quite sure that he could distinguish between the finest madeira
and a common sherry. That is no fault, surely, but there is a great
difference between wines.