Not to have a cellar is derogatory to the dignity of man. Yet it is notable that, while every petty clerk or budding draper clamours for a bathroom, not one in a thousand will insist upon his wine vault; and so it comes to pass that Jerry the master-builder squeezes a new-style tepidarium into every one of his vulgar thirty-pounders, and the million which would be clean, but
is not, flocks to wash therein. Yet is a hole under the stairs, or the divided honour of the larder held good enough depositing ground for the counterfeit presentments which—with the Lower Upper-Middles—do duty for Château Margaux and
Sande- 
