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t 12 THE SUN, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1913. .it tc ti ol Hi fc hi w en "C di M b m U fe m hi ca w Wi wl yi to p of w! Bt- to pa or nc I a gi Pi ta w or of gl or at fn BO th CO BU L fa ac ar. a co bl TI Bp. Vf. fa b ha or u gt u ac cr eli Hi ul or 80 nv or. ici Fl w CO fa el nc c lM in ot ta bt to A COLLECTOR'S at 4' U Bl RAMBLE IN Late Adrian H. Joline, Enthusiastic Huntc r of Famous Signatures, Tells Charm ing Story of Collection Which Was His Hobby a- y s & yy: y Zy 'SA. AUTOGRAPH LAND A D JKA..KTTK I.. lill.UIIH. liUOK that has (Inu'ly and, I might ndd, a pathetic Interest Im "Rambles In Autograph Land." by Adrian H. Joline (Putnam). The book Is Just published and Mr. Joline's autoKraph collection, about which he has written with such appreciation and affection, will soon come under the hammer. Mr. Joline died before the book was published and it has been put through the press by Mr. Van Tassel Sutphen and Mrs. Joline, who was always a sharer in her husband's literary confidences. Mr. Joline's collection Is estimated at anywhere between J25.000 and $75,000. It may have cost him $25,000 to collect It and it may earn for his estate $75,000 when sold. If he bought wisely, as well as enthusiastically, the collection ought to be worth much more than lie paid for It, for autographs of the great are getting rarer and rarer every year. Mr. Joline had a charming and Inti mate literary style. He forgot that he was learned in the law, that the books to which he gave the most study were of the driest and most serious nature, when he took up the pen to write on his hobby. What he has written Bhows the evidence of wide reading and a re tentive memory, for he Interlards his own writings with the thoughts and anecdotes of writers the world over. At the beginning of this book Mr. Joline tells us that It will never be a "best seller," as books of this sort are talked about but seldom read. He quotes "the accomplished manager of a famous publishing house in New York" an telling him that his writings probably fay tcA iu a iwk tyc I Fir at P. of A.L.SC3 P) oA.lrd .Lord T ko Bayard Taylor !MrcYal9.1866 had little commercial value, and he did not find himself prepared to dispute the statement coming from so high an au- Nights in Paris, London and Monte Carlo Continued from Tenth Page. into acceptance. As yet Ixjndon hait Been only fragments of Russian bullet. Hut London may and probably will Bee the whole. You have a certain complacency In entering it, because it is one of the twenty monster restaurants of London. The name glitters in the public mind . "Where shall we dine? The name suggests itself; by the immense force of its notoriety it comes unsought into the conversation like a thing alive. "All right! Meet you in the Lounge at 7'45." You feel what ever your superficial airs that you are in the whirl of correctness as you hurry (of course late) out of a taxi into the Lounge. There is something about the word "Lounge " Space and freedom in the Lounge, and a foretaste of luxury, and it is Inhabited by the haughty of the earth! You are not yet a prisoner, In the Lounge. Then an ofliclal, witli the metallic insignia of authority, takes you apart. Ho is very deferential, but with the intimidating deference of u limited cotnpany that pays to per cent. You cau go upstairs, though he doubts if there is immediately a table, or you can go down stairs. (Strango, how in the West End, when once you quit the street you must always go up or down; the planet's sur face is forbidden to you; you lose touch with it; the ground landlord has taken it and hidden it.) You go down stairs; you are hypnotized into going down stairs, and you go down, and down, one of a procession, until a mau, intrenched in a recess furnished to look like a ready made tailor's, accepts half your clothing and adds it to Ills stock. He does not ask for it; he need not; you are hypno tized. Stripped, you go further down and down, You ore now part of the tre mendous organism; you have left behind not morely your clothing hut your voli tion; your number is in your hund. Suddenly, as you pass through a door way, great irregular vistas of a subter ranean chamber discover themselves to you, limitless. You perceive that this wondrous restaurant ramifies under all London and that a table on one verge is beneath Ht Paul'n Cathedral and a table ti(-"-e the other verge beneath the Albert M Memorial All the tables-all the thou- &v sands of tables are occupied. An official comes to you and, putting his mouth to your ear (for the din is terrific), tells you tnat ne win nave a tatila for you in three minutes You wait, forlorn. It reminda you of waiting at the barber's for a shave except that the barber gives you an easy . onatr ana a newspaper. Here you must stand and you must gather your skirts about you and stand firm lo resist the 5 m i shock of blind waiters. Others are in your case; others have been waiting longer than you, and at every moment more arrive. You wait. The diners see you waiting, and you wonder whether they are eating slowly on purpose. At length you are led away far, far from the pit's mouth into a remote working of the mine. You watch a man whisk away foul plates and glasses and cover offence with a pure white cloth. You sit. You are saved! And human nature is such that you feel positively grateful to the limited company. Monte Carlo the initiated call it merely "Monte" has often been described, in fiction and out of it, but the frank con fession of a ruined gambler is a rare thing, partly because the ruined gambler can't often write well enough to express him self accurately, partly because he isn't in the mood for literary composition and partly because he is sometimes dead. So, since I am not dead, and since it is only by means of literary composition that I can hope to restore my shattered fortunes, I will give you tho frank con fession of a ruined gambler. Iieforo I went to Monte Carlo I had all tho usual ideas of tho average sensible man about gambling in general and about Monte Carlo in particular. "Where does all tho exterior brilliance of Monte Carlo come from?" I asked sagely. And I Bald fur ther: "The Casino administration does not disguise the fact that it makes a profit of about 50,000 francs a day. Whore does that profit come from?" And I answered my own question with wonderful wisdom: "Out of the pockets of tho foolish gam biers. " I specially despised tho gambler who gambles "on a system"; I despised him as a creature of superstition. Of course I wont to study human nature and find material. The solo udvantago of being a novolist is that whon,you are discovered in a place where, as a serious person, you would prefer not to le dis covered you can always aver that you aro studying human nature and seeking material, I was much impressed by the fact of my Iwing in Monto Carlo, I said to myself "I am actually in Monte Carlo," I was proud. And when I got into tho gorgeous gaming saloons amid that throng at onco glittering and shabby I Bald: "I am actually In tho gaming saloons!" And tho thought at tho Uok of my mind was: "Honouforth I shall be able to say that I hnvo been in tho gaming saloons at Monte Carlo, After studying human nature at large I began to study it at a roulette table, I had gambled Iieforo notably with impassivo Arab chiefs in that singular oaslB of the Sahara desert, Biskra but only a little and always at pettlsohovaux. Hut I understood roil lette and I know several "systems." I found -St " - ilB JbKt - y--'-- yy & Tiny on. I P' . JH I Povtio-n of Ovicfi-nea IVIS.o IH' , I W" aAlv, byQcorja qardoLordflyroa LbTbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbw thority, but it guve him some consola tion to reflect upon the "commercial value" of certain dreadful thingB that the human nature very interestiug; also the roulette. The sight of real gold, silver and notes flung about in heaps warmed my Imagination. At this point I felt a solitary five franc piece in ray pocket. Ana then tho red turned up three times running and I remembered a simple system that began after a sequence of three. I don't know how it was, but long before I had formally decided to gamble I know by instinct that I should stake that five franc piece. I fought against the idea, but I couldn't tnko my hand empty out of my pocket. Then nt last (the whole experience occupying perhaps fen seconds) I drow forth the five franc piece and bashfully put It on black. I thought that all tho fifty or sixty persons crowded round tho bible wero staring nt me and thinking to themselves: "There's a be ginner!" However, black won and the croupier pushed another flvo frano piece alongsido of inino and I picked them both up very smartly, remembering all the tales I had over heard of thieves loaning over you at Monto Carlo and snatching your ill-gotten gains. I then thought: "This a bit of luck all right. Just for fun I'll continue tho system." I did so. I twin hour I liad mado 50 francs without break ing into gold. Onco a croupier made a slip and was raking in red stakos when red had won nnd !eoplo hesitated (be cause croupiers novcr mako mistakes, you know, and you have to bo careful how you quarrel with the table at Monto Carlo), and I was tho first to givo vent to a protest, and the croupier looked at mo and smiled and apologized, and the winners looked at mo gratefully and I began to think myself the douco and all of a Monto Carlo habitue. Having made 50 francs I decided that I would prove my self-control by ceasing to play. Ho I did provo it und went to havo tea in tho Casino cafe. In those moments 50 francs seemed to mo to bo n really onormous sum. I was as happy as though I had shot a rov lower without being found out. I gradually began to per ceive, too, that though no rational creature could suppose that a spin could bo affeotod by previous spins, nevertheless it un doubtedly was so affected. I bogan to scorn a little the average sensible man who soorued the gumblor, "There is more in roulette than is dreamt of in your philosophy, my conceited friond," I murmured. I was like a woman I couldn't argue, but I knew infallibly, Then it suddenly occurred to me that if I had gambled with louls instead or five frano piooes I should have mado 200 francs 200 franca in rather over un hourl Oh, luxury) Oh, being in tho swim! Ob, smartness! Oh, gilded and delicious Bin! appear In print, and he concluded that after all "such an assurance Is not so devoid of flattery as It might seem to bo at :irsi blush," The mere rollcetlng of autographs did nut appeal to Mr. Joline. He only cared for those in which lie was Interested or that concerned certain characteristics of their writers. A mere signature would have to be very rare Indeed to be worthy of his collection, Unlike many collectors Mr. Joline seldom lirpt any record of what a letter or n manuscript cost him and had no idea what It would "fetch" at tln auction sale, "which," he writes, "will concern my executors far more than It will ever concern me." It is probably concerning his executors at the present moment. Kven educated persons know Utile and care less about autographs. A well known Iloston collector told Sir. Joline of an accomplished lady, who said to him that she "wunted so much to look on his buok of autographs." As a mat ter of fact he had 105 volumes of them. She thought that he had a single album. Mr. Joline gives the following as a per sonal experience: "Some months ngo a clever and mani festly intelligent young man represent ing one ot our lending Journals called upon me for the declared purpose of finding out which one ot my autographs was my particular favorite, the news paper readers of the metropolis having, no doubt, an Inexplicable yearning for that important bit ot Information, "'That Is a dlfllcult question to an swer,' I timidly ventured to Bay. 'If you want to know which one I longest sought, which one gavo mo tho most anxiety and perturbation of spirit, the most troublesome n the procuring, which one caused the greatest diminu tion In the amount of my bank bulunco I will tell you, but In all probability you will not be able to tell me who the man was. It was the uutograph of llutton Gwinnett.' His countenance as Humed a blank expression as he said, I never heard of him.' "To the collector It brought back tho old story of the man on the railway train who insisted upon talking to a surly and uncommunicative stranger about Grant when that distinguished soldier was occupying the White House. Grant! Who's Grant?' growled the stranger. 'Why, the rresident. 'Presi dent of what?' 'President of the L'nlted States.' 'Oh.' "Yet why should the Juvenile reporter, a young man of the present, know any thing of Button Gwinnett? It was al most an accident that he signed the Declaration of Independence; and in less than a year afterward he fell a victim to the pistol of his fellow Georgian, I.ochlan Mcintosh. It seems very strange nevertheless that In his forty-five years of life he left so few written evidences of bis existence, He was a merchant In Bristol, Kngland, and was engaged In business in Savan nah. He tilled several Important of ficial positions. Yet there Is no holo graph letter of Ills In existence, so far as I know." There Is nothing about which there Is less intelligence displayed than about the collecting of autographs, and I could have told Mr. Joline nn anecdote on this subject which would have pleased ilim: A number of years ago a lady of my acquaintance who wrote some pretty verses for the magazines saw iu an autograph dealer's catalogue the sum of 50 cents marked against her signature, Shu was tille d with delight, for here was nn easy way of making money. Immediately she visited the dealer's shop and told him that she saw that her autograph was valued ut 50 cents. "I am quite willing," she announced, "to write as many signatures as you like at tho rate of 50 cents, If you will give me a pen and paper I will begin at once." The dealer, astonished, tried to ex plain the situation to her, but she would have none of It, hut producing his cata logue from her handbag thrust the damning evidence before his eyes. No explanation sufficed and she left his shop believing thut lie wanted to cheat her of her rights. On tho subject of tho overvaluation of autographs by tho inexperienced Mr. Joline writes: "I heard lately of a Hoston lady who had a letter of Oliver Wendell Holmes the Autocrat, not the Judge for which sbo wanted the modest sum of $300! In the majority of such eases of amus ing overvaluation tho parties arc acting In entire good faith. Hut a few weeks ago a lady wrote to me offering to dis pose of what sho manifestly deemed to bo 'precious relics a White House card with tho signature of drover Cleveland and another with that of Mrs. Cleveland. To her they were wortti a great deal, and I scarcely had the heart to tell her that they would be dear at a dollar uplecc; In fact, It would be almost ex travagant to pay that much for them." Mr. Joline says that an autogruph col lector should be a man of u contented mind. 'He does not believe that a dis contented man could ever make a good collector. Ho adds: ''Almost everyone now seems to bo discontented about On this subject he writes something.' amusingly. "I think it Is creditable to the tribe that no autograph collector, as far as I can remember, ever effected an al leged 'reform' or headed a sanguinary revolution. The collector is a peaceful, contemplative person, as one must be who studies his letters and manuscripts and retlects upon nil the toll, strife and struggles of the men who wrote the pages over which be pores, and upon the futility of most of their strivings, How excited they became over what If in their present slate they take cog nlz.ince of mundane things, they must now reward as trivial and Insignificant. Mr. Joline is particularly interesting when he writes about his own collec tlon. Among the most valuable of his autcKiraphs are certain poems by Thomas Gray not Included in any col. lection published in his lifetime, but they do appear in the edition of John Mltford. "The first of the poems was written at Mls Speed's request, to an old air of Gemlnlani, the thought taken from the I'rench. The version In the Mlt ford edition is printed from the copy which appeared in Walpolos Letters to the Countess of Allcshury. A different version Is given in Park's edition, and neither rendering corresponds exactly with the manuscript. The verses read as follows: Thyrsls when he left me, swore Kit the spilng he would returi. Ah! what imans yon opening tlower And the liiid that decks the tlioin? 'Twas tli' buk that upwaid sprung, 'Thus the nightingale that sung. Idle notes, untimely green! Why such iinvalllng haste? lientle gales and skies sereno Pi ove not always winter past. iVase my doubts, my fears to move, Spare the honor of my Love, Of Hyron's nutographs there is in this collection a manuscript containing six stanzas of "Oscar of Alva," a poem included In "Hours of Idleness." They aro written on both sides of a small quarto sheet nnd there are many erasures nnd corrections. In the lust line "Hymn wrote 'lie' and not 'die,' and the correction Improves the rhyme but not the sense; whether the change was madu by the printer or by the author I have no means of de ciding. The manuscript Is accompanied by a letter from John Slurray In which he says: 'It is a genuine uutograph and might fetch from two to three guineas at an auction at Sotheby's.' Tho year of Murray's letter Is not given; It evl dently proceeded from John Murray the younger, who died in lS'.C His estl mate of price seems low, when wo con wider that in 1909, at a New York sale a manuscript of a ilyron poem of six teen lines 'I saw thee weep' brought $200, True to my record, 1 wholly for get what I paid for mine." From a number of Tom Hood's letters Mr. Joline selects one "written as ho was approaching the end of his sad life, for It shows htm with a little Jest at the end ot his pen, struggling under tho burdens of ill health und the newly Hood.. founded IIihkVh Mmnzlm'." It U written to K. . Ward, his sub-edltnr. Mr Dear Wari: 1 continue letter ia l the wind has changed nnd I have h el : window open. The "yr.unoie Is no loti.' - mctlral. What a day for Ascot: '. out any Hunulng Itulu' You haven t sent the Fraser 1 .1 look owr Wolesby's list more c.iiefully .n tho morning. Most of them it appe.iis ate very stale e. g. Life of L"U - l'lillllppe a poor book. 1 have had tli'e nine months. Slick the ati.o iie Id too. Howitt's Ocrni.ui book I s!eei' I like to do myself. Swiss Life of i:i on unlit to be a good bvik, but It Is wv li inly I Mlsptct. 1 hope Vo, l i- n . trong Toty. Our actrcsfes I due -a will he sent by Smith 4i Hlder wh. leady. I have done three cuts on the w 1 t lay aid sdmll send them per hue to morrow to the wood cutter. P- r'nt" with some more. It Is funny Wolesby talking of n , ties" with mch a list of stale u . - Please nut to write to Iiiodenp - -.. tern. If Cooper's Ashore and Allo.it i ti it mlKllt do. Hut I do not see win should turn Retrospective Kevlewers n. ' go back to old wares. My notl.n. - reviews of novelties with good extracts - for our readers before they enn gem-i get the bonks tlirounh ch dilating hrarlef. I will send Reorge to-mm r for the Fraser. Dr. Toulmln s verses are weak i come to "a had end. They cert i t will not do. The Mag. has a reputation we must not undumiiie little and good. 1 am certain that n.i I are more disgusted by Indifferent poet than by bad prose. lours affectionately. T Hood. There Is a letter written by Tenny son to Bayard Tnyhir. the poet, whlc i shows that the Laureate felt dlsposi I toward at least one American. I'lTKIl OoliK T.npnr Ken n i Norn s' Hour March 1!. IMIrt. Mr Dear Sir: Your new book ha? just arrived In a hamper of provision. sent on here from Fairlngfoid, foi we have been staying here for some rtiek" In a house formerly, I believe, belong. n to Count D'Orsay nnd now to I.oly Franklin, anil we get for the nwt part supplied from the farm at home. M.iiy thanks for your book, which will I lu no doubt increase your reputatliv 'itil for your kindly letter. I am !-ori th.i' I was not nt home to weUoim uif friend Mr Norwood. If you li'bnd t honor me with another visit perhaps will be as well to send me notbe a or so bvfoie you come, that I may ti ' miss you. We are generally away on t1 Continent during July and Septem'. Believe me, my dear sir, Yours very truly. A, Ti:.vnv.-o.v The letter from Thackeray In t' collection was written to Willi. Harrison Alnsworth and refers to novelist's lectures on Georges." Mv Dear Ainrwortii : this correspondence is Mop and laugh when here s another put orf- "The Fe:- You'll th !!' never going I tell you tl, only tioin 3", however, anil I'll tell !. ai win Yisterday, after my letter to vo w despatched. Mr. Ileale came to nn f four lectures at Brighton, to be p. i the extremely moderate Hkiiic ' guineas per lectin e (this Is bet wee ei Ives). The only days we con 1 them are Wednesday, Thursday. 1 i i' 2tth, at 3 o'clock, and 1 shall h.n speak again In the evening heie Now this Is the plan of c.unp.itg,t " stmt from Brighton by the 5 ot train. My servant Is In wult.ug in '' station to take our luggage. My (Job! ! rougham whisks us nil to p.ilnteis. . and Turtle, Leadenhall street, when neat dinner awaits us, u bottle of I India particular and one of ckiiet 7:30 the brougham takes us to lain street and nt 9 :2S whither we like and then home to this house, when nil Insist you must stop and sleep. And so for the present farewe!1 friend. Who knows there nun ' another letter yet? The Brighton n ' may be engaged. &c. &c. About t! matters due notice shall be given, i on Saturday and Sunday, 21-25, pUis the Lord, you dine with Yours always, W. M. TllAOKUlU The letters of Dickens were goiu ta' written with bluo Ink on blue p p- r rather bad for tho eyes. All tho n. n . scripts of his that I have seen ,m there are a number, were wrltti this way. I have known Ann ' 1 1 authors who affected the same coni'iini tlon until they realized Its fool - m and gave It up. Dickens's letter ilia Mr. Joline gives In hl collection i to 1 long to quote. It Is to one of lb- nd school friends, Thomas Mltton, abo it a rullway accident which occurred a1 Stnblehurst. There aro letters of Poe, I.ongfcl Mark Twain nnd other American wr-i ers, but they ure not particularly n portant or significant, though inns' In tercstlng, particularly thm-e of Lone fellow, Holmes and Lowell. Mr. Joline has made a delightful l"oi and I am sorry that bo did not live 1 read it.