Between these extremities there is undeniably a rich field for choice. Numismatists have always, I apprehend, regarded me as a heretic, for the simple reason that I attached, in the absence of some specific ground, no importance to mint-marks or to minor differences. I have accustomed myself to take a coin in my hand, and estimate it on its merits. I am able to see what ruler or State it represents, its period, its style, its value. It may bear on its face a striking portrait of some illustrious personage—a potent sovereign, a distinguished soldier, a great lady—of whom the lineaments are nowhere else extant. It may be money of necessity, narrating to us, as fully as it can, a tragic or a noble story. It may be the first piece which was struck by a famous individual or place, or the last—perchance out of church or college plate with the original border of a dish remaining to commemorate a crisis. All these and other similar characteristics are broad and clear. But I have always been impatient of the stress laid by experts on an inverted letter in the legend, an added or omitted dot, or some such fantastic and puerile refinement.
These minutiæ do not constitute the primary use and significance of the coin as a source of study and instruction. A cabinet formed on a practical principle yields the best and most lasting fruit. You have only to scan the pages of the numberless printed works of reference to become aware that in the English and Scotish series the slight variations among products of the same issue are interminable, and individuals are found to enter with avidity and at a lavish outlay into such trivialities. Not I. From the remotest period of our own history we have coined in England itself only seventy denominations in all metals; and I computed in my Coin-Collector that about 1530 pieces would substantially represent all the different reigns and clearly distinct types of the United Kingdom, not including the Anglo-Gallic money which is not very voluminous.
Whatever may be thought of the practice of acquiring virtual duplicates in the more ancient currencies, its extension to the Georgian and Victorian eras is absolutely unreasoning and futile. There is no plea for it on the score of art, history, or curiosity. It is only the other day, that patterns and proofs of George III. and IV., William IV. and her present Majesty were carried to prices, which would have secured in the aggregate some of the finest and costliest examples of Greek workmanship or the great rarities and desiderata in the English series itself—the Oxford and Petition crowns, the florin of Edward III., the triple sovereign of Edward VI., or even the half George noble of Henry VIII. But the bladder has been pricked, and the nonsensical craze has visibly subsided. It had its rise, no doubt, in competition among two or three wealthy, but poorly informed, gentlemen, who soon grew tired of a desperately expensive and foolish amusement. Naturally the artificial quotations brought to light hoarded specimens; and supply and demand changed places.
My British division follows the same system as the others. The chief part, requisite for my plan, is in hand; a small residuum has yet to come; and I must wait for it.
That side which took, and has held, my fancy more powerfully, was the Continental. What impressed me was its infinite interest, diversity, and curiosity; what recommended it was its unfamiliarity and comparative cheapness even in the choicest condition. There was a time, when the foreign dealers, and some of our own, were prepared to part with nearly all the coins in the respective metals at a tariff, which was far more consonant with my means than the tall figures ruling elsewhere through the generous rivalry of my affluent contemporaries; and a five-pound note still stands one in better stead on this ground than on the English and Scotish; but I hold a certificate of approbation in the shape of a slowly upward tendency on my own special lines, and I rejoice that my wants grow fewer.
Between the relative merits of the British coinage and that of the European continent there is no actual standard of comparison, especially when it is borne in mind, that some of the best of our native examples were produced by foreign engravers. I confidently anticipate that in the early future the money of the various political divisions of Europe will appreciably usurp the position at present almost monopolised among ourselves by our own money or that of the ancients. I hear it objected, that the continental class is so immense and so fathomless. True, it is; but when you regard condition, that difficulty ceases to operate, for you have only to stand by, and pick the best, and you will find that about 1 in 50 is the proportion of pieces worth having. The total in the Boyne sale (1896) was estimated at 25,000; and I doubt whether there were 250 real prizes (duplicates excepted) from beginning to end.
The coins in the two superior metals laid side by side with those of Great Britain of the same period almost invariably excel ours in every respect, and there is an abundance of high denominations both in gold and silver, which the continental houses know fairly well how to appraise: grand old pieces of 5 and 10 thalers in silver and of 10, 20, 40, and 100 ducats in gold. I have generally viewed these bijoux from a respectful distance. But as a beginner I was forcibly struck by the magnificent copper coins of early date and careful execution, which now and then occur in irreproachable state at rates, of which no one can reasonably complain. At the price, which was commonly demanded a short while since for a pattern halfpenny of George III., you might have half a hundred of them in course of time. I have personally experienced a far larger measure of trouble in meeting with satisfactory specimens of all epochs than in the English or even Scotish sections; but it is such a much vaster field, and some countries are more difficult than others. Where expense is not a consideration, a system of correspondence with all the leading centres and occasional visits in person are to be recommended; but consignments on approval form a tolerable substitute, and are rather exciting—with a tendency, I have found, to disappointment. The happiest moments are apt to be between the receipt of the parcel and the disclosure of the contents. Yet I have to confess myself very greatly indebted to Mr Schulman of Amersfoort for his supplies. London is of very slight use; you must keep in touch with the continent; and unhappily, within the last few years, the continent has grown sensibly dearer for fine copper. The quality of indifferent stock held by the trade everywhere must be incalculable—I must have waded through a ton or so.
The Italian copper series, taking up the thread, as it were, where the Roman and Ostrogothic rulers let it fall, is customarily regarded with special tenderness and respect, and is certainly entitled to rank high, as the work, during the finest period of art, of celebrated engravers. But the other sections set before us very persuasively their claims to attention; and it was this rather perplexing competition for notice and choice, which led me—which leads me to-day—to accord admission only to the bearers of the highest testimonials. That is a very drastic method of exclusion.