to one compact wedge-like
phalanx. Or, in other words, if one thick octavo volume,
containing a tolerably well classed arrangement of his
library, had descended to us--oh, then we should all have
been better able to appreciate the extraordinary treasures
of SUCH A COLLECTION! The genius of Pearson and Crofts would
have done homage to the towering spirit of Rawlinson.]

LYSAND. If the most unabating activity and an insatiable appetite--if
an eye, in regard to books, keen and sparkling as the ocean-bathed
star--if a purse, heavily laden and inexhaustible--if store-rooms
rivalled only by the present warehouses of the East-India Company--if
a disposition to spread far and wide the influence of the BIBLIOMANIA,
by issuing a _carte blanche_ for every desperately smitten antiquary
to enter, and partake of the benefits of, his library--be criteria of
BOOK-PHRENSY--why then the resemblance of this said Tom Rawlinson
ought to form a principal ornament in the capital of that gigantic
column, which sustains the temple of BOOK FAME! He was the _Tom Folio_
of the Tatler, and may be called the _Leviathan_ of book-collectors
during nearly the first thirty years of the eighteenth century.

LIS. I suppose, then, that Bagford, Murray, and Hearne, were not
unknown to this towering bibliomaniac?

LYSAND. On the contrary, I conclude, for certain, that, if they did
not drink wine, they constantly drank coffee, together: one of the
huge folio volumes of Bleau's Atlas serving them for a table.

But see yonder the rough rude features of HUMPHREY WANLEY[376] peering
above the crowd! All hail to thy honest physiognomy--for thou wert a
rare _Book-wight_ in thy way! and as long as the fame of thy patron
Harley shall live, so long, honest Humphrey, dost thou stand a sure
chance of living "for aye," in the memory of all worthy bibliomaniacs.

[Footnote 376: Lysander is well warranted in borrowing the
pencil of Jan Steen, in the above bold and striking portrait
of WANLEY: who was, I believe, as honest a man, and as
learned a librarian, as ever sat down to morning chocolate
in velvet slippers. There is a portrait of him in oil in the
British Museum, and another similar one in the Bodleian
Library--from which latter it is evident, on the slightest
observation, that the inestimable, I ought to say immortal,
founder of the _Cow Pox system_ (my ever respected and
sincere f