“Yes, we have to get high prices for autographs,” Madigan said, smilingly, while opening his enormous safe to show me some specimens. “I believe this is in some respects the finest tribute the present generation pays to genius and greatness. These prices are suggestive of reflection, however, in view of the now almost universal practice of typewriting letters and manuscripts. “The written word, as it flows from the pen, has much of the inspiration, the mental process and the ideals of the writer; the typewritten word tells nothing. “President McKinley, to give one instance, was an early user of the typewriter, and therefore, manuscript letters by his hand are exceedingly scarce, scarcer and more expensive than long letters by President Adams, Jefferson, Madison or Jackson. And I dare say that these will be far easier to procure in coming years than like specimens by Roosevelt, Taft or Wilson. “Here, look at this letter written by John Adams. Isn’t it a delicious bit of intimate history that unrolls itself before our eyes? Adams, de jure leader of the Federalist party while Alexander Hamilton has the actual power, is peeved about ‘too much intrigue in this business both in General Washington and me.’ ‘_If I shall ultimately be the dupe of it, I am much mistaken in myself._’ And now read this memorable line: ‘_If I could resign him the office of President, I would do it immediately and with the highest pleasure; but I never said I would hold the office and be responsible for its exercise while he should execute it_.’ “Look at this letter by Henry Clay, ‘_Although I am not a member of any Christian Church, I have a profound sense of the inappreciable value of our religion, which has increased and strengthened as I have advanced in years_.’ “Read this note of Robert Fulton’s, the celebrated inventor, to his lawyer referring to a Mr. Church, his partner, in an ‘enterprise of small canals.’ ‘_By becoming a partner he took a chance of profit or loss, but was bound to pay me the purchase money. He failed in his second payment. I consequently stayed in Europe, not regarding a man who had no regard for his engagements._” “Look at this distinguished handwriting of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Can you read between the lines? “‘_I lent you by mistake a copy of my book, which contains corrections which I, therefore, need in preparing the next edition._’ “Can you imagine the poet hunting for his corrected book, the printer waiting until he discovers that some friend has carried it away? And here is a suave note of John S. Sargent, the American portrait painter, asking some society woman in words of utmost politeness to come to his studio for a sitting. One almost can see the $5,000 check paid for the painting.