"Life is a leaf of paper white
Whereon each one of us may write
His word or two—then comes the night."
Lowell.
Mr. T. Fisher Unwin has asked me to "chat" on autographs and autograph collecting. Fifteen years ago the late Dr. George Birkbeck Hill "talked" on the same subject in compliance with a similar request. Still more recently Mr. Adrian H. Joline, of New York, has given the world his "meditations" on a pursuit which another American unkindly describes as "that dreadful fever," but which Mr. Joline, as well as the present writer, regards in the light of "the most gentle of emotions." Mr. Joline expressed, on the first page of his interesting book, a profound conviction that nobody could by any possibility be persuaded to read it unless already interested in the topic with which it so effectively deals. One of the principal objects of the causeries I have undertaken to write is to reach, if possible, a public to which the peculiar fascination and indescribable excitement of the autograph cult are still unknown, and to demonstrate (to a certain extent from my own personal experience), the practical utility, as well as the possibilities of material profit, inherent in this particular form of literary treasure-trove. For the benefit of the uninitiated (and in this case the uninitiated are in a vast majority) it is necessary at the onset to differentiate between the "Autograph Fiend" (the phrase is, I believe, American in its origin), who pesters, often with unpardonable persistence, well-known personages for their signatures in albums or on photographs, and the discriminating collector who accumulates for the benefit of posterity either important documents or the letters of famous men. "Nothing," writes Horace Walpole, "gives us so just an idea of an age as genuine letters, nay history waits for its last seal from them."
Adopting the words of one of the most gifted letter-writers who ever lived as a text, let me clearly define an autograph for the purposes of these pages to be:—
A letter or document written or signed by any given person.
An autograph collector, as I understand the term, is one who acquires and arranges documents of the sort now described. A collector of autograph signatures has nothing in common with the scientific autograph collector. Those who deliberately cut signatures from important letters are in reality the worst enemies both of the autograph collector and the historian. Vandalism of this kind (often committed in happy unconsciousness of the consequences) brings with it its own punishment, for detached signatures are almost worthless. Many years ago a dealer was offered sixteen genuine signatures of Samuel Pepys, their owner naïvely remarking that "he had cut them from the letters to save trouble." As a matter of fact he had in the course of a few seconds depreciated the value of his property to the extent of at least £150. The letters (if intact) would have fetched from £15 to £20 each! "Album Specimens"—the results of the misplaced energy of the "autograph hunter," are of very little value as compared with holograph letters, and collections of this kind, although often elaborately bound up and provided with a lock and key, generally prove a woeful disappointment to the representatives of those who bestowed so much time and trouble on their formation. Collections of "franks," or the signatures in virtue of which Peers and Members of the House of Commons prior to 1840 could transmit letters through the post free of charge, must not be classed with those of "clipped" or isolated signatures. "Frank Collections" were often very interesting, and in the early years of the nineteenth century many well-known people devoted much time and trouble to their completion. The subject will be further alluded to in my text.
Although a personal element must of necessity pervade to some extent, at least, my chats on autographs, it is obvious that the subject is one which necessitates the greatest discretion. I shall carefully refrain from using any letter which has ever been addressed to me personally, although I have ventured to reproduce the signature of H.R.H. Ismail Pacha, one of the most remarkable men of his time, and that of Arabi Pacha, for whom I acted as counsel before the court-martial held at Cairo on December 2, 1882. Between 1884 and 1889 I was in constant correspondence with the late ex-Khedive Ismail, and from 1883 down to the present day I have frequently exchanged letters with my once celebrated Egyptian client, who returned from exile some five years ago to spend the rest of his life in Cairo. Nor shall I, with one or two exceptions, give in extenso the letters of any living person, or letters which can possibly give pain or concern to others. Those who carefully study, as I do, the catalogues issued from time to time by dealers in autographs, both in this country and abroad, must often be astonished at the rapidity with which the letters of Royal and other illustrious personages "come into the market." At the death of a well-known authoress a few years ago the whole of the letters addressed to her were sold en bloc. I was not surprised to learn that the appearance of these "specimens" was the cause of much consternation and many heart-burnings.
SIGNATURES OF THE EGYPTIAN CLIENTS OF THE AUTHOR, 1882-1888, H.R.H. THE KHEDIVE ISMAIL; H.R.H. PRINCE IBRAHIM HILMY, HIS SON, AND ARABI PACHA.