The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-12-03

MR.. WHISTLER LONDON RESIDENCE.
| aud there the thing dropped. Now it really
| mattered very little whether a crowd Of
Scotchmen approved or disapproved of his
art. II was merely an exhibition of the
laundering brutality which sometimes
masquerades under the name of frankness,
Mr.. Whistler, however, did not choose to
rest quiet under the attempted indlgnity
and dare say that he enjoyed the check
mate more than he would have the money.
His action was thoroughly characteristic.
So was his letter last month TO the commit
tee on awards of the international Exhibi-
ton at Munich, upon receiving the
announcement that be had been voted a
medal of the second class. IL may be
doubted, however, if they felt the full
force OF the satire conveyed when he wrote
of his appreciation OF the second class
compliment they had seen fit to bestow
and how the announcement sustained and
soothed him with a serene and tempered
joy.
Mr.. Whistler has a way, somewhat rare
in these days Of social hypocrisy, Of saying
what be thinks on all occasions. If the
shaft happens at times to hit social or
financial power it is to him, as all things
were TO Mr.. Toots, mot Of the slightest con-
sequence" There is a wealthy dillettante in
London whose eccentricities and vagaries
Of taste have often made Mayfair marvel.
His immense wealth, however, causes
him to be feared, and, to his face at least,
respected. And besides he gives good
dinners.
The dillettante in question had long
sought visit from Mr.. Whistler, but all
efforts to beguile the genial wit to his house
had proved unavailing. Finally mutual
ACQUAINTANCE interceded and a day and
hour were fixed for the gifted painter to
pass Judgment on the collection. He kept
the appointment and the accumulated
treasures brought together with lavish
hand were passed in review before him for
critical censure or approval Not word
escaped him as the show progressed save
solemn Him, him." that might be taken to
mean anything or nothing. His mobile
face did not tighten with either smile or
frown. The dilettante was nonplussed.
For the first time in its history his collection
had failed to elicit enthusiasm, either
assumed or real. When the last room was
reached, and there was no more to see,
Mr.. Whistler gazed at his host with a
look Of compassionate censure and ex-
claimed gravely and without smile or twin
kle Of the eye:
"My dear sir, there's really no excuse Tor
it-no excuse for II at all.
Boiling for the door, he secured his hat
and cane, his resonant "Hah! nah !" ringing
in the ears of the dumbfounded dilletante,
as the strange guest fastened away. The
Joke leaked out, as Whistler's jokes always
do, the indiscreet victim having related it
TO a friend with the comment that "he
couldn't understand Mr.. Whistler at all,
and that be was really most incomprehensi-
BILE person.
Mr.. Whistlers connection with and presi-
dency Of the Royal Society of British Artists
kept the art world of London agog as long
as II lasted. The society had been Unable
TO secure the sanction Of royalty till he took
hold of it. Years ago the genial Thackeray
satirized II as IA safe and secluded spot 10
make an assignation with mistress or TO
secure absolute freedom from interruption