ts, rare pictures, autograph comments and
notes, a bewildering variety of records,--memorabilia which were above
price. Poets wrote humorous verse, and artists who justly held their
time as too precious to permit of their working for love decorated the
pages of the Bibliotaph's scrap-books. One does not abuse the word
'unique' when he applies it to these striking volumes.

The Bibliotaph did not always follow contemporary judgment in his
selection of men to be so canonized. He now and then honored a man
whose sense of the relation of achievement to fame would not allow him
to admit to himself that he deserved the distinction, and whose sense
of humor could not but be strongly excited at the thought of
deification by so unusual a process. It might be pleasant to consider
that the Bibliotaph cared so much for one's letters as to wish not to
destroy them, but it was awful to think of those letters as bound and
annotated. This was to get a taste of posthumous fame before
posthumous fame was due. The Bibliotaph added a new terror to life,
for he compelled one to live up to one's scrap-book. He reversed the
old Pagan formula, which was to the effect that 'So-and-So died and
was made a god.' According to the Bibliotaph's prophetic method, a man
was made a god first and allowed to die at his leisure afterward. Not
every one of that little company which his wisdom and love have marked
for great reputation will be able to achieve it. They are unanimously
grateful that he cared enough for them to wish to drag their humble
gifts into the broad light of publicity. But their gratitude is
tempered by the thought that perhaps he was only elaborately humorous
at their expense.

The Bibliotaph's intellectual processes were so vigorous and his
pleasure in mental activity for its own sake was so intense that he
was quite capable of deciding after a topic of discussion had been
introduced which side he would take. And this with a splendid disdain
of the merits of the cause which he espoused. I remember that he once
set out to maintain the thesis that a certain gentleman, as notable
for his virtues as he was conspicuous for lack of beauty, was
essentially a handsome man. The person who initiated the discussion by
observing that 'Mr. Blank was unquestionably a plain man' expected
from the Bibliotaph (if he expected any remark whatever) nothing
beyond a Platonic 'That I do most firmly believe.' He was not a little
astonished when the great b