It is to be remembered, of course, that the sentimental interest in antique objects which, in recent years, has given a huge value to all ancient things, regardless of their intrinsic worth, is a dangerous attitude, unless it is backed by the most expert knowledge; for instead of directing the attention only to the best work of the best periods, it results in the diminishing of the output of modern original work and the setting of little of worth in its place.  A person of a certain fashionable set will now boast that there is no object in his room less than two hundred years old:  his only boast, however, should be that the room contains nothing which is not of intrinsic beauty, interest, or good workmanship.  The old chairs from the kitchen are dragged into the drawing-room—­because they are old; miniatures unmeritoriously painted by unknown artists for obscure clients are nailed in conspicuous places—­because they are old; hideous plates and dishes, originally made by ignorant workmen for impoverished peasants, are enclosed in glass cases—­because they are old; iron-bound chests, which had been cheaply made to suit the purses of farmers, are rescued from the cottages of their descendants and sold for fabulous sums—­because they are old.

A person who fills a drawing-room with chairs, tables, and ornaments, dating from the reign of Queen Anne, cannot say that he does so because he wishes it to look like a room of that date; for if this were his desire, he would have to furnish it with objects which appeared to be newly made, since in the days of Queen Anne the first quality noticeable in them would have been their newness.  In fact, to produce the desired effect everything in the room, with very few exceptions, would have to be a replica.  To sit in this room full of antiques in a frock-coat would be as bad a breach of good taste as the placing of a Victorian chandelier in an Elizabethan banqueting-hall.  To furnish the room with genuine antiquities because they are old and therefore interesting would be to carry the museum spirit into daily life with its attending responsibilities, and would involve all manner of incongruities and inconsistencies; while to furnish in this manner because antiques were valuable would be merely vulgar.  There are, thus, only three justifications that I can see for the action of the man who surrounds himself with antiquities:  he must do so because they are examples of workmanship, because they are beautiful, or because they are endeared to him by family usage.  These, of course, are full and complete justifications; and the value of his attitude should be felt in the impetus which it gives to conscientious modern work.  There are periods in history at which certain arts, crafts, or industries reached an extremely high level of excellence; and nothing can be more valuable to modern workmen than familiarity with these periods.  Well-made replicas have a value that is overlooked only by the inartistic.  Nor must it be forgotten