Mr. Thompson had no sooner ended his remarks when a score of Saints and Sinners sprang up to protest against this ribald quackery.  The utmost confusion prevailed for several moments.  Finally the venerable Dr. Poole was accorded the floor.  “Far be it from me,” said he, solemnly, “to lend my approval to any enterprise that contemplates bibliomania as a disease instead of a crime.  (Applause.) I live in Evanston, the home of that saintly woman Miss Willard, and under her teachings I have become convinced that bibliomania is a sin which must be eradicated by piety and not by pills.  Rather than be cured by heretical means, I prefer not to be cured at all.” (Great cheering.)

Remarks in a similar vein were made by Messrs. Ballantyne, Larned, Hamlin, Smith, Barnes, Cole, Magee, Taylor, and Carpenter.  Dr. Gunsaulus seemed rather inclined to try the cure, but he doubted whether he could stick to it for three weeks.  Finally, a compromise was effected by the adoption of the following resolutions submitted by the Rev. Dr. Bristol: 

“Resolved, that we, Saints and Sinners, individually and collectively, defer, postpone, suspend, and delay all experiment and essay with the bichloride bibliomania bolus until after the approaching holiday season, and furthermore,

  “Resolved, that at the expiration of this specified interdicted
  season we will see about it.”

Suspecting treachery, Dr. Gunsaulus secured the adoption of another resolution forbidding any member of the organization to secure or apply for an option on the said boluses before formal action with reference to the vaunted cure had been taken by the Saints and Sinners in regular meeting.

  November, 1891.

However, Field did not confine all his attentions to what he called the “book-bandits” to his reports on the proceedings in the Saints’ and Sinners’ Corner.  Scattered throughout his writings from 1887 onward were paragraphs, ballads, and jests, praising, berating, and “joshing” the maniac crew who held that “binding’s the surest test,” and who bought books, as some would-be connoisseurs do wine, by the label.  With all his professions of sympathy with the maniacs, he never missed an opportunity to make merry over what he regarded as their rivalries and disappointments, and he never wearied of egging them on to imitate his own besetting disposition to buy the curio you covet and “settle when you can,” as indicated in the beautiful hymn that concludes the following paragraph: