, 1891-09-19

Neto York society and Count Lucien de
Isle agreed UeTB 1Ceu tcfth ono another.
New York society and Count Lucien
de Lisle agreed very well with one an
other that winter. In these later times
we are become somewhat cautious and
skeptical in our dealings with eminent
foreigners whom we never heard of until
they turn up in Fifth avenue with a ro-
mantle and dazzling autobiography and
with ONE mysterious magnetism, which
ends by attracting the precious metals
out of our pockets, after which the high
born enchanter vanishes. We no longer
embrace this kind of people SO impetu-
ously as we did. But though it may be
difficult to distinguish between good
paste and a diamond we all recognize
tne itself when we see IL. A
charlatan may make us doubt, but a true
man carries conviction with him.
Count Lucien was no charlatan-the
keenest critics were agreed as to hat.
His manner were good, without being
too good; his refinement was instructive,
and there was a toucko soldierly stern
ness in him that gave his bearing weight
and distinction. He spoke little about
himself, and never blew his own trumpet,
but he evidently expected to be treated
with consideration, and would perfectly
know how to assert himself upon occa-
sion. His standing, however, was that
of n quiet and rather reserved gentle
man, DESTROYS to be on kindly terms
with good people, and conscious, it
might be, that he could give them at
least as much as they could give him.
These qualities would have made him
annaftah1a - aAntatv I,-N he ,rnn1tl,
rendered his position unique, and, in
spite of the impossibility of such a thing
as American snobbery, it put some queer
modification into the spectacles of those
who came in contact with him. Few
spoke to him or thought of him exactly
as they would have lone if he had been
a man of ordinary fortune.
He actually had the money-that was
the strange feature. The rumor ran
that he was keeping three or four million
on deposit at several New York banks.
The rumor was investigated. and result
ed in the discovery that the millions in
question were indeed there, but they
were millions, not Of dollars, but OF
pounds sterling. News came from Bos.
ton and Philadelphia that there was as
much more to his credit in those cities.
1t leaked out that the great London and
Westminster bank in London was pay
ing Count de Lisle dividends on eight
million pounds. But these vast sums
were put the fringes of the counts for
tune. He vas a large investor in real
estate and lands; indeed, a wag started
the story that he had purchased all of
Manhattan island below Canal street,
with its buildings and inhabitants; but
this proved to be an overstatement.
Such fantastic exaggerations are merely
illustrations of the impossibility Of con-
ceiving really great wealth.
A million-ten millions-hundreds of
millions-the mind cannot grasp the idea
of such sums in relation to any single
owner; n seems practically about as
good As another; and, in the effort to
bring them within the bounds of COM
prehension, we give way to jests and
fairy tales. Was Count de Lisle's income
twenty-five thousand dollars a day-or
fifty thousand-or more? Whether 1t
were more or less he certainly could not
spend it on himself. And yet the innate
desire in the human mind to see giants
and heroes and gods-men who in their
single persons are the equivalent of ma
tions-makes us hope that each new
millionaire will find some way to wear
all his millions as a garment, or, rather,
as a skin, in which his own proper life
circulates. Surely the wants of man
are infinite; how, then, al any amount OF
money overwhelm him? Be it a billion,
every separate dollar of it ought to be
tingling with vitality, and as busy min.
istering directly to its owner as are the
corpuscles of his blood. That any of il
should be lying dead seems a reflection
on human ability-on our intellect and
senses. The horse is his who mounts it;
the fortune is his who spends it. Nc
doubt great riches need great genius, and
even genius needs practice. The power
to make one's self legitimately cost. say.