The testator attached two conditions to the bequest.
One was that his own name should be inscribed nowhere in the building, and the other was that none of his own pictures should be admitted to the gallery.

Was not this sublime?
Was not this true British pride?
Was not this magnificently unlike the ordinary benefactor of his country?
The _Record_ was in a position to assert that Priam Farll's estate would amount to about a hundred and forty thousand pounds, in addition to the value of the pictures.

After that, was anybody going to argue that he ought not to be buried in the National Valhalla, a philanthropist so royal and so proudly meek?
The opposition gave up.
Priam Farll grew more and more disturbed in his fortress at the Grand Babylon Hotel.

He perfectly remembered making the will.

He had made it about seventeen years before, after some champagne in Venice, in an hour of anger against some English criticisms of his work.