the erection of an ornamental structure of Gothic design, such as a
market cross, tall clock, street lamp-stand, or all combined, in a
central part of London, the plan whereof shall be offered for open
competition, and ultimately decided upon by the Royal Institute of
British Architects.' The President of the Probate Division said _he was
satisfied that Miss Browne was not of sound mind, and pronounced against
the will_, with costs out of the estate. I wonder what the Royal
Institute thinks of this legal testimonial. It seems almost a pity that
some one did not dispute Sir Francis Chantrey's will years ago on similar
grounds. I suggest to Mr. MacColl that it might still be upset. That
would settle once and for all the question whether the administration of
the bequest has evinced evidence of insanity or not. A recent Royal
Commission left the matter undecided. I do not, however, wish to
criticise trustees, but to defend the memory of Miss Browne (who may have
been eccentric in private life) from such a charge, because her
testamentary dispositions were a trifle aesthetic. The will was
un-English in one respect: '_no inscription of my name shall be placed on
such erection_.' Was that the clause which proved her hopelessly mad?
The erection was to be Gothic. I know Gothic is out of fashion just now.
Ruskin is quite over; the Seven Lamps exploded long ago; but Miss Browne
seems to have attended before her death Mr. MacColl's lectures, knew all
about 'masses' and 'tones' in architecture, and wished particular stress
to be laid on 'the general outline as seen from a good distance.' This
is greeted by some of the papers as particularly side-splitting and
eccentric. Looking at the unlovely streets of London, never one of the
more beautiful cities of Europe, where each new building seems contrived
to go one better in sheer _uglitude_ (especially since builders of Tube
stations have ventured into the Vitruvian arena), you can easily suppose
that poor Miss Browne, with her views about 'general outlines seen from a
good distance,' must have appeared hopelessly insane. The decision of
the court is not likely to encourage any further public bequests of this
kind. I have cut the British Museum and the National Gallery out of my
own will already. And I understand why Mr. MacColl, with his passionate
pleading for a living national architecture, for official recognition of
past and present English art, is thought by many goo