stratify
itself according to the laws of social gravitation. It will take a
generation or two more, perhaps, to arrange the strata by precipitation
and settlement, but we can always depend on one principle to govern the
arrangement of the layers. People interested in the same things will
naturally come together. The youthful heirs of fortunes who keep splendid
yachts have little to talk about with the oarsman who pulls about on the
lake or the river. What does young Dives, who drives his four-in-hand
and keeps a stable full of horses, care about Lazarus, who feels rich in
the possession of a horse-railroad ticket? You know how we live at our
house, plainly, but with a certain degree of cultivated propriety. We
make no pretensions to what is called "style." We are still in that
social stratum where the article called "a napkin-ring" is recognized as
admissible at the dinner-table. That fact sufficiently defines our
modest pretensions. The napkin-ring is the boundary mark between certain
classes. But one evening Mrs. Butts and I went out to a party given by
the lady of a worthy family, where the napkin itself was a newly
introduced luxury. The conversation of the hostess and her guests turned
upon details of the kitchen and the laundry; upon the best mode of
raising bread, whether with "emptins" (emptyings, yeast) or baking
powder; about "bluing" and starching and crimping, and similar matters.
Poor Mrs. Butts! She knew nothing more about such things than her
hostess did about Shakespeare and the musical glasses. What was the use
of trying to enforce social intercourse under such conditions?
Incompatibility of temper has been considered ground for a divorce;
incompatibility of interests is a sufficient warrant for social
separation. The multimillionaires have so much that is common among
themselves, and so little that they share with us of moderate means, that
they will naturally form a specialized class, and in virtue of their
palaces, their picture-galleries, their equipages, their yachts, their
large hospitality, constitute a kind of exclusive aristocracy. Religion,
which ought to be the great leveller, cannot reduce these elements to the
same grade. You may read in the parable, "Friend, how camest thou in
hither not having a wedding garment?" The modern version would be, "How
came you at Mrs. Billion's ball not having a dress on your back which
came from Paris?"

The little church has got a new stained window, a saint