“Of that, my dear,” replied the vicar, “there is some doubt;--the learned are divided upon the question: some authors maintain that every medal, and even medallion, had its fixed and regular price in payments, while others, on the contrary, assert that we are not in the possession of any real money of the ancients, and that the medals never had any currency as coins. The truth probably is between these two extremes.” “If these medals were not used as money,” observed Louisa, “for what purposes could they have been coined?” “To perpetuate the memory of great actions; and, faithful to its charge of fame, the medal has transmitted events, the history of which must, otherwise, have long since perished. Nay, more,” exclaimed the vicar, his voice rising as he became warmed by his subject, “the lamp of history has been often extinguished, and the medalist has collected sparks from the ashes of antiquity which have rekindled its flame. You perceive, therefore,” continued the reverend antiquary, “that such collections are of the highest importance, and if your papa will allow you to pass a morning in their examination, I shall easily bring you to admit, that I have not exaggerated the wonders of my magic gallery. I will convince you, that it contains a series of original miniature portraits of the greatest heroes of antiquity; a compendious chart of history, chronology, and heathen mythology; a system of classic architecture; and an accurate commentary upon the more celebrated poems of Greece and Rome. Ay, and I will show you a faithful resemblance of the very ship that carried Æneas to Italy, and of the lofty poop from which the luckless Palinurus fell into the ocean.” Mr. Twaddleton then favoured Mr. and Mrs. Seymour with a sight of some of those rarer medals, which he considered as constituting the gems of his collection. “You do not mean to say,” exclaimed Tom, as he seized a small coin, “that this _brass_ piece is of more value than the large coin of gold that lies next to it?” “Mercy upon us!” cried the vicar, in a tone of agony, “how the boy handles it!--restore it to its place--gently--gently--that ‘little brass piece,’ as you call it, is gold, and although it might not have been worth one guinea fifteen hundred years ago, is now valued at a hundred. It is a coin of Ptolemy the 8th of Egypt. On the obverse is the portrait of the king beautifully raised; on the reverse a cornucopia. I do not believe that the coin was known to Pinkerton when he wrote his Essay.” “There is, certainly,” said Mr. Seymour, “something very inexplicable in the tastes and enthusiastic feelings of you patrons of antiquity.” “The antiquary,” observed the vicar, “does not regard a cabinet of medals as a treasure of money, but of knowledge; nor does he fancy any charms in gold, but in the figures that adorn it; it is not the metal, but the erudition, that stamps it with value.”