From the Easy Chair, vol 1 | Page 9

And thereupon the Easy Chair falls into meditation upon "the sphere"
of the sexes, and asks itself, as it loiters about the site of the Broadway

Cottage, admiring the pretty shops, whether, if it be womanly for
woman to keep shop and to acquire property by her faithful industry, it
can be manly for man to make laws appropriating and using her
property without her consent?

MRS. GRUNDY AND THE COSMOPOLITAN.
Mrs. Grundy was lately astonished by the remark of a cheerful
cosmopolitan whom she proposed to introduce to a very rich man. She
seemed to catch her breath as she spoke of his exceeding great riches in
the tone of admiring awe which betrays the devout snob. The
cosmopolitan listened pleasantly as Mrs. Grundy spoke with the air of
proposing to him the greatest of favors and blessings.
"You say he is very rich?" he asked.
"Enormously, fabulously," replied Mrs. Grundy, as if crossing herself.
"Will he give me any of his money?"
Mrs. Grundy gazed blankly at the questioner. "Give you any of his
money? What do you mean?"
"Mean?" answered the cheerful cosmopolitan; "my meaning is plain. If
I am introduced to a scholar, he gives me something of his scholarship;
a traveller gives me experience; a scientific man, information; a
musician plays or sings for me; and if you introduce me to a man
whose distinction is his riches, I wish to know what advantage I am to
gain from his acquaintance, and whether I may expect him to impart to
me something of that for which he is distinguished."
Mrs. Grundy, who is easily discomposed by an unexpected turn in the
conversation, looked confused, but said, presently, "Why, you will dine
with the Midases and the Plutuses."
"But they are merely the same thing," said the cosmopolitan, gayly.
"You know the story: Mr. and Mrs. MacSycophant, Miss
MacSycophant, Miss Imogen MacSycophant, Mr. Plantagenet
MacSycophant, Miss Boadicea MacSycophant--and more of the same.
One MacSycophant is as good as twenty, Mrs. Grundy; and as I know
the Midases already, and find them amusingly dull, why should I know
the Plutuses, who are probably even duller?"
Mrs. Grundy looked as if transfixed.
"Oh," continued the cosmopolitan, laughing, "I do not deny that money
is an excellent thing. I am glad that I am not in want of it. But it is a

dangerous thing to handle. If you don't manage it well it exposes you
terribly. Great riches are like an electric light--like a noonday sun; they
reveal everything. If a man stands in a ridiculous attitude, or is clad
scantily, the intense light displays him remorselessly to every beholder.
Great riches do the same. I saw you at the Midases', dear Mrs. Grundy.
Did you ever see a more sumptuous entertainment or a more splendid
palace? What pictures and statues and vases! what exquisite and costly
decoration! what gold and glass! what Sevres and Dresden! But the
more I admired the beautiful works of art, the more I thought of the
enthusiasm and devotion of the artist, the more I was touched by the
grace and delicacy of color and form around me; and the more I heard
Midas talk, the more clearly I saw that he did not see, or feel, or
understand anything of the real value and significance of his own
entourage. The more beautiful it was, the more plainly it displayed his
total want of perception of beauty.
"His house is a magnificent museum. It is full of treasures. But they all
dwarf and deride him. They are so many relentless lights turned on to
show how completely he is not at home in his own house. He is as
much out of place among them as a horse in a studio. He has all the
proper books of a gentleman's library, and all superbly bound. What
does he know about them? He never read a book. He has marvellous
pictures. What does he know of pictures? He doesn't know whether
Gainsborough was a painter or a potter, or whether Giotto was a Greek
or a Roman. He has books and pictures merely because he has money
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