The Coin Sales—My Stealthy Accumulations from Some of Them—Comparative Advantages of Large and Small Sales—The Disappointment over One at Genoa—The Boyne Sale—Its Meagre Proportion of Fine Pieces—My Comfort, and what came to Me—Narrow Escape of the Collection from Sacrifice to a Foreign Combination—Trade Sales Abroad—A New Departure—Considerations on Poorly-Preserved Coins—I resign Them to the Learned—I have to Classify by Countries and Their Divisions—My Personal Appurtenances—Suggestions which may be Useful to Others—The Great Bactrian Discovery—Extent of Representative Collections of Ancient Money—Antony and Cleopatra—Adherence to My own Fixed and Deliberate Plan—The Argument to be used by Any One following in My Footsteps—Advice of an Old Collector to a New One.

From the very limited nature of my resources I have been forced to content myself with being a casual buyer. I have witnessed the dispersion of all the finest assemblages of coins, which have come to the hammer or into the market in the course of nearly twenty years, and have involuntarily played the part of a spectator and note-maker, where it would have delighted me to compete for the best with the best.

I have not attended auctions as a buyer either of china or of coins save in one or two instances at the outset, and I have subsequently rejected these acquisitions as indiscreet. The principal sales, which have fallen under my observation, were those of Lake Price, Shepherd, Whithall, Marsham, Rostron, Webb, Carfrae, Ashburnham, Montagu, and Bunbury, 1884-96; these were limited to the English, Greek, and Roman series; and I presume that some filtered unrecognised into my cabinet. Of the foreign collections, or those into which the continental element entered, I took more particular note and more direct cognisance. There were the Rossi, Remedi, Ingram, Leyster, Dillon, Samuel Smith, United Service Institution, Boyne, and Durazzo, between the year 1880 and the present time.

The latter group immediately or eventually contributed a really large body of additions. From the Ingram sale came the double gold scudo of Pope Julius II. by Francia, which I mention only, because it was, I think, my earliest heavy purchase of the kind. The Leyster affair was antecedent to the serious competition of Spink & Son for such property; and the bulk went abroad. From such purchases as Lincoln & Son effected I took anything, which passed my standard; but too many of the lots were poor, and not a few were fabrications. It was a vast collection formed by a gentleman in Ireland at a distance from any centre and without much apparent taste or discretion; and the German houses very probably did well over it.

Lord Dillon’s coins yielded a few items, which I was glad to get—one or two Polish gold pieces, a Venetian 12-ducat one, and so forth; and among the silver there was a half dick-thaler of Sigismund, Archduke of Austria, for the Tyrol, 1484, which Mr Schulman assured me did not exist, and which I engraved in my Coins of Europe, 1893. I have since met with a second. It is hard to determine which is the superior market, a big sale or a small one. At the former items may be overlooked; the latter does not attract buyers so freely. To Mr Samuel Smith of Liverpool I was indebted, when he parted with his comparatively limited acquisitions, for the finest specimens which I have seen of the Bern thaler of 1494, and the Lorraine one of 1603, at a far more moderate tariff than inferior examples have brought before or since. Then in the entire sale not more than three items altogether excited any interest on my part. It was just the same when the Royal United Service Institution submitted its numismatic property to public competition. It was in the main a mass of rubbish; I picked out one or two silver pieces and a lot of about thirty selected copper, of the latter of which I kept less than half. The unselected copper numbered 3000 or so, and were only eligible for the melting-pot.

The Durazzo Collection, sold at Genoa, was a singular disappointment. The catalogue was rather sumptuous and very detailed. A rumour prevailed at the time that the alleged provenance of the collection was not strictly veracious, and that the property actually belonged to Vitalini the Italian dealer. As a numismatic amateur during almost a score of years I have experienced a good deal of this kind of personation; but I argue that it matters little whence a coin comes to one, so long as the character and state are right, with the added advantage that in passing from an inferior to possibly a better atmosphere the purchase improves in value.

There were about 6500 lots, of which the majority consisted of Roman and Greek; the remainder was continental. Many of the Italian rarities were included; and Genoa and Monaco were very strongly represented. I knew that Spink & Son had sent commissions, and I augured well for the result; but I had not indicated my views personally, and indeed the catalogue did not reach my hands, till it was too late for me to intervene. I had never before known such a series of the money of Monaco to be offered simultaneously.

When no news in any shape came to my ears, it transpired on inquiry that a few Papal coins, recently acquired by me, belonged to the collection, and that the prevailing feature of the latter was a state of preservation so utterly hopeless, that some of the company retired after the first day. The actual metallic records were there, I presume; but they did not harmonise with the estimates of the too romantic cataloguer. Even now, after the event, who ought to feel surprise, if whatever there may have been of any merit, should ultimately drift to these hospitable shores, and—?

The dispersion of the cabinet of the late William Boyne in London interested me uniquely, for it was particularly rich in the Italian series, and the incident differed from those, which had preceded it within my remembrance, inasmuch as the property was brought within reach of inspection, and one could sit at a table in Wellington Street, prior to the commencement of operations, and examine the coins, catalogue in hand. It was a ten-days’ affair, and it was computed that there were 25,000 items. Still I resolved to go through with my project for seeing every lot, which I had marked, and judging whether it was a desirable acquisition.

I read between the lines of the catalogue with the aid of one or two of my numismatic acquaintances, who warned me against expecting too much; for they were familiar with my idiosyncrasies. Taking tray by tray, I actually saw far more than I contemplated; nearly the whole property passed before me in review; and I was grievously disappointed. It was an indiscriminate assemblage of coins of all sorts, evidently bought at random or en bloc, and poverty of condition preponderated in a lamentable measure.