which I had no righteous claim.  My solicitor, to whom I mentioned the matter, was of opinion that I might justifiably pocket the seven hundred and fifty pounds as reward for my mother’s benevolence in buying a presumably worthless picture from an obscure painter.  But he failed to convince me that I ought to be paid for my mother’s virtues, though we agreed that neither I nor my mother had received any return in the shape of pleasure in contemplating the work, which had deteriorated considerably by the fading of the colors since its purchase.  At last I went to Brown’s studio with the picture, and told him that it was worth nothing to me, as I thought it a particularly bad one, and that he might have it back again for fifteen pounds, half the first price.  He at once told me that I could get from any dealer more for it than he could afford to give me; but he told me too that I had no right to make a profit out of his work, and that he would give me the original price of thirty pounds.  I took it, and then sent him the man who had offered me the eight hundred.  To my discomfiture Brown refused to sell it on any terms, because he considered it unworthy of his reputation.  The man bid up to fifteen hundred, but Brown held out; and I found that instead of putting seven hundred and seventy pounds into his pocket I had taken thirty out of it.  I accordingly offered to return the thirty pieces.  Brown, taking the offer as an insult, declined all further communication with me.  I then insisted on the matter being submitted to arbitration, and demanded fifteen hundred pounds as the full exchange value of the picture.  All the arbitrators agreed that this was monstrous, whereupon I contended that if they denied my right to the value in exchange, they must admit my right to the value in use.  They assented to this after putting off their decision for a fortnight in order to read Adam Smith and discover what on earth I meant by my values in use and exchange.  I now showed that the picture had no value in use to me, as I disliked it, and that therefore I was entitled to nothing, and that Brown must take back the thirty pounds.  They were glad to concede this also to me, as they were all artist friends of Brown, and wished him not to lose money by the transaction, though they of course privately thought that the picture was, as I described it, a bad one.  After that Brown and I became very good friends.  He tolerated my advances, at first lest it should seem that he was annoyed by my disparagement of his work.  Subsequently he fell into my views much as you have done.”

“That is very interesting,” said Sir Charles.  “What a noble thing—­refusing fifteen hundred pounds!  He could ill afford it, probably.”

“Heroic—­according to nineteenth century notions of heroism.  Voluntarily to throw away a chance of making money! that is the ne plus ultra of martyrdom.  Brown’s wife was extremely angry with him for doing it.”

“It is an interesting story—­or might be made so,” said Erskine.  “But you make my head spin with your confounded exchange values and stuff.  Everything is a question of figures with you.”