coupled with bookish tastes beyond the resources of a Philadelphia mint.  Out of these daily meetings and mousings among books and prints was evolved in Field’s fancy what he dubbed the “Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner.”  The “Saints” may be easily identified by their titles, while the “Sinners” included all those who had neither title nor pretence to holiness, but were simply engaged in breaking the command against coveting their neighbors’ possessions.  There was no formal organization, no club, no stated meetings, no roll of members, and no gatherings such as after a time were constantly reported in the “Sharps and Flats” column.  All the meetings and discussions in the Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner were held in Field’s fertile brain, and only occasionally were the subjects of these meetings suggested by anything that happened at McClurg’s.

The earliest reference I have found to this figment of Field’s fancy is a casual paragraph in April, 1889, where he speaks of a number of bibliomaniacs having congregated in the Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner at McClurg’s.  But the phrase was current among us long before that.  It was not until nearly two years had elapsed that Field gravely announced “a sale of pews in the Saints’ and Sinners’ corner at McClurg’s immediately after the regular noontime service next Wednesday” (December 31st, 1890).  It is perhaps worthy of a remark that General McClurg for a long time regarded Field’s frequent jests and squibs at the expense of the frequenters of his old-book department with anything but an approving eye.  He looked upon Field for many years as a ribald mocker of the conventionalities not only of literature but of life.  “Culture’s Garland” was an offence to his social instincts and literary tastes.  Among all the men with whom Field came in frequent converse, the late lamented General Alexander C. McClurg was the last to succumb to the engaging tormentor.  Field’s lack of reverence for all earthly things, except womankind, was the barrier between these two.

Thus it came about that Field made the Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner at McClurg’s famous throughout the book world against its owner’s will, but not against his fortune.  For more than six years he advertised its wares and bargains as no book-store had ever been advertised before.  All the general and his lieutenant had to do was to provide the books collectors were after, and Field did the rest.  He played upon the strings of bibliomaniac acquisitiveness as a skilled musician upon the violin; and whether the music they gave forth was grave or gay, it gave a mocking pleasure to the man who rejoiced that there was so much power in the “subtile” scratching of his pen.