who detests notoriety. He works quietly, unobtrusively, but 
determinedly, "for the benefit of future generations." Money 
has never been a question with him when it came to securing 
an art treasure which he believed should be saved and studied. 
And in his work he has been logical. At no time have fads 
pervaded it. He has, in his vast collection, traced art from 
its very inception. Until the men of the Smithsonian coinmittee 
visited Mr. Freer at his Detroit home a few weeks ago, only 
two or three individuals knew what the collector possessed. 
The most famous art dealers, with all their ways of keeping 
the location of the world f s famous pictures and potteries, 
have not been able to tell what w r as in the Freer collection. 
Even Mr. Freer ! s townspeople have had no opportunity of see¬ 
ing the collection in its entirety. While he has been liberal 
in contributing works of art to great exhibitions, Mr. Freer 
has almost secretly guarded his treasures, preferring, when 
the proper time comes, that the Smithsonian Institution shall 
make public what the collection contains. 
In nothing has Mr. Freer f s dislike of newspaper notor¬ 
iety been more emphasized than in the incidents surrounding 
the purchase of the peacock room decorations. When Leyland 
died, connoisseurs in England pleaded that the room which 
had been painted for him by Whistler should be purchased by 
the government and "installed in a public gallery for the 
pleasure and education of the coming generations." While 
thousands were pleading this cause, no one came forward to 
