The record-union., 1897-03-28

Harper's Weekly: The value of the
famous Hertford collection of pictures,
furniture, jewelry, armor, porcelains,
miniatures, costumes and miscellaneous
secondhand effects offered by the viii
of the widow of the late Sir Richard
Wallace tC the English nation is vari-
ouSly estimated at from seven to sew
enteeR millions. So far as appears at
present, the collection of pictures,
which is of remarkable scope and inter-
est, and rrodigiously valuable, will go
to the National Gallery, while the dis
position Of the other things depends
on Parliament, the condition of the gift
being that a building should be fur
nished to keep it in. Sir Richard Wal
lace, as the newspapers have been re-
minding us, was the natural son of the
fourth Marquis of Hertford, from whom
he inherited the Hertford collection as
it was then, and all the money his
father could leave him, said to have
been about f3,000,000. Sir Richard
lived in Paris, enjoyed himself accord
ing to his tastes and opportunities, and
was one OF the notabIes of his genera
ton in Europe. 1t will be remembered
that when the "reminiscences of "An
years ago and made a stir, Sir Richard
Wallace was supposed for time to
have been its author He is described
as collector of astonishing erudition
and discernment, who was always able
to pay for anything he wanted He
left no heirs. Before his death he Of
fered the collection to the English peo-
pie on condition that it should be kept
in Hertford House. AS that property
was a leasehold, the gift was declined,
and was then left to the widow She
was French woman, the daughter of
an army officer. She was married to
Sir Richard in 1870 when he was D
and she was 80. Her name was long
ago crossed off the Queens visiting
list for some reason, and her DISPOSE
ton of the collection in spite of that
slight is thought to have been espe-
cially magnanimous.
Mrs. Fields, in her recently published
book. gives an amusing anecdote of the
effect of Dickens readings upon Emer-
son. He had many reservations with
regard to Dickens. He could not cas-
lily forgive any one who made him
laugh immoderately. The first read
ing of DR.. Marigold' in Boston was an
exciting occasion and Emerson was in
vited to assist After the reading he
sat talking until a very late hour. for
he was taken by surprise at the novelty
and artistic perfection of the perform
ance. His usual calm had quite brok-
en- down under it; he had laughed as
il he might crumble to pieces. his face
wearing an expression of absolute pain;
indeed, the scene was 50 strange that
i was mirth-provoking to those Who
were near. But when he returned home
he questioned and pondered much upon
Dickens himself. Finally he said: I
am afraid he has too much talent for
his genius. You see him quite wrong
evidently. and would persuade me that
he is genial creature, full of sweet
ness and amenities and superior to his
talents; but L fear is harnessed to
them. He is too cOnsummate an art
ist TO have a thread of nature left He
daunts me. 1 have not the key"
New York Tribune: If a report con-
corning the Clarendon Press" is to be
believed. that honorable institution is
about TO launch an enterprise of stu
pendous character. The plan is to print
a complete edition of the classics Of
Great Britain. the form of the volumes
to be the finest that modern presswork
can secure. Of course, the undertaking
would be rich in provocation to the ad-
herents Of this or that writer. We Will
have one party protesting that a Ger
tain poet is a classic, another party as
severating that he is not. Some critics
ton and Shakespeare. Keats, Shelley and
Wordsworth. Others will demand room
for Browning. When the prose writers
are reached there viii be arguments
miles long. But doubtless if the edition
is actually attempted. it will be brought
out under the auspices Of men upon
whose judgment perfect reliance can be
placed. The English do not often go
wrong in a work Of this nature. If the
Clarendon Press accomDlishes this
high ambition, giving to each classic the
definite editing and the sumptuous form
which are to be expected Of such pub
fishers, the world win feel a deep and
lasting gratitude.
Guizot. in a letter to one of his chill
dren, tells how on his first visit to
Windsor he lost his way. opened a
wrong door and beheld for a moment
lady having her hair brushed. The
next day the Queen (for It was she)
joked him about il, and he says: I
ended by asking her leave, If ever I
wrote my memoirs, like Suny or St
Simon, to mention how. at midnight. 1
opened the door of the Queen of Eng
land. She laughingly gave me the de-
sired permission"
Emerson himself proved trying to
some people and Carlyle is said to have
been terribly bored by the persistent
optimism of his transatlantic friend.
though sincerely attached to him. Il
thought" said the Scotch philosopher.
that | would try to cure him, so | took
him to some Of the lowest parts Of Lon
don and showed him all that was going
on there. This done, / turned to him.
saying: And moo, man, dye believe
In the devil noo?' oh, no. he replied,
all these people seem to me only parts
Of the great machine. and, on the
whole, l think they are doing their
work very satisfactorily" Then" con-
tinued the sage, Il took him doun TO
the House o. Commons, where they put
US under the gallery. There l showed
him 'ae chiel getting up after anither
and leeing and leeing.' Then / turned
to him and said: And moo, man, dye
believe in then deevil moor He made
me. however, just the same answer as
before, and then gave him UP in des-