Mr. Twaddleton now passed on to a different compartment of his cabinet, observing, that he must exhibit a few of his Roman treasures. “Behold,” said he, “two gems of unappreciable value; never do I look upon them but with feelings of the purest delight. Let my young friends come nearer, and inspect them minutely. This is a large brass coin of Tiberius, and was current when Christ was upon the earth; next to it lies a silver _Denarius_ of the same Emperor; its value was about equal to seven-pence of our money, and was the coin that tempted Judas to betray his master.” “I think,” said Mrs. Seymour, “I have heard you speak of some English coins of rarity and interest.” “True, Madam, very true, but they are in another cabinet: before I close the present one, I will, with your permission, give you a glimpse at my Sulphurs Paduans, and Beckers.” “Paduans and Beckers!” exclaimed Mr. Seymour, “and pray what may they be? I never before heard the terms.” “‘My poverty but not my will consents,’ The antiquary who is poor in purse,” observed the vicar, “must needs be contented with being rich in counterfeits, or, I ought rather to have said, in possessing copies instead of originals. Becker was an artist of Frankfort, who excelled in imitating ancient coins, but he never used his skill for the purpose of deception, but honestly sold his productions as avowed copies, which are admitted into the cabinets of the curious under the name of _Beckers_. The _Paduans_,” the vicar added, “derived their name from two brothers at Padua, celebrated for the accuracy with which they imitated large Roman coins. Here are the English coins you alluded to,” said the antiquary to Mrs. Seymour. “This is a shilling of Henry VII. curious as being the first shilling ever struck; it was presented to me by a college friend some years ago, and I have been lately informed that it is so rare as to fetch twenty-five pounds; but let me beg you to examine attentively this curious little treasure,” said the vicar, his eyes twinkling with pleasure as he placed the dainty morsel in the hand of Mrs. Seymour; “it is,” continued he, “a silver groat of Perkin Warbeck; on one side are the Royal arms, but without a name; they are surmounted, you perceive, with an arched crown, and placed between a fleur de lis and a rose.” “What is the inscription?” asked Mrs. Seymour. “Say _legend_, Madam, if you please; the words are, ‘_Domine, salvum fac regem_,’ the date 1494. The coin is supposed to have been struck by the order of the Duchess of Burgundy for Perkin Warbeck, when he set out to invade England.” “Pray,” said Tom, “have you got a Queen Anne’s farthing?”