ich acquisition marked the pinnacle of the book-hunter's
conquest. True to his love for the Sabine singer, the western poet
characterized the immortal odes of twenty centuries gone the greatest
happiness of bibliomania.

In the early morning of November 4 the soul of Eugene Field passed
upward. On the table, folded and sealed, were the memoirs of the old
man upon whom the sentence of death had been pronounced. On the bed in
the corner of the room, with one arm thrown over his breast, and the
smile of peace and rest on his tranquil face, the poet lay. All around
him, on the shelves and in the cases, were the books he loved so well.
Ah, who shall say that on that morning his fancy was not verified, and
that as the gray light came reverently through the window, those
cherished volumes did not bestir themselves, awaiting the cheery voice:
"Good day to you, my sweet friends. How lovingly they beam upon me,
and how glad they are that my rest has been unbroken."

Could they beam upon you less lovingly, great heart, in the chamber
warmed by your affection and now sanctified by death? Were they less
glad to know that the repose would be unbroken forevermore, since it
came the glorious reward, my brother, of the friend who went gladly to
it through his faith, having striven for it through his works?

ROSWELL MARTIN FIELD

Buena Park, December, 1895.

The Chapters in this Book

I MY FIRST LOVE
II THE BIRTH OF A NEW PASSION
III THE LUXURY OF READING IN BED
IV THE MANIA OF COLLECTING SEIZES ME
V BALDNESS AND INTELLECTUALITY
VI MY ROMANCE WITH FIAMMETTA
VII THE DELIGHTS OF FENDER-FISHING
VIII BALLADS AND THEIR MAKERS
IX BOOKSELLERS AND PRINTERS, OLD AND NEW
X WHEN FANCHONETTE BEWITCHED ME
XI DIAGNOSIS OF THE BACILLUS LIBRORUM
XII THE PLEASURES OF EXTRA-ILLUSTRATION
XIII ON THE ODORS WHICH MY BOOKS EXHALE
XIV ELZEVIRS AND DIVERS OTHER MATTERS
XV A BOOK THAT BRINGS SOLACE AND CHEER
XVI THE MALADY CALLED CATALOGITIS
XVII THE NAPOLEONIC RENAISSANCE
XVIII MY WORKSHOP AND OTHERS
XIX OUR DEBT TO MONKISH MEN

I

MY FIRST LOVE

At this moment, when I am about to begin the most important undertaking
of my life, I recall the sense of abhorrence with which I have at
different times read the confessions of men famed for their prowess in
the realm of love. These boastings have always shocked me, for I
reverence love as the noble