Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1852-1859, 1853-05-30
From the National 1ntclligenccr.
Edgar A. Poe.
BY HENRY CLAY rREvss.

Seldom has a poor mortal been more abused or
less understood than the subject of The following
verses. With mind tuned to the highest harmo
MES, and gifted with most surprising powers of an
alysis nothing escaped the terrible anatomy Of his
eritiques. In reading some of his reviews one
feels the sensation of Geld steel searching through
the warm flesh. The crude field of our young Ma
tonal Literature, with its rank "tares of haste''
and flowers of more than tropical luxuriance, af-
forded ample exercise for the pruning knife of the
critics and who was better fitted for the task than
Poe? A diamond of the first WATER with him
meiiocrity was almost crime. His onslaught up
on the titerary lights of the day was commence
ed and carried on without favor, love or mercy
Authors, poets, noyelists, tale-writers, amateur
contributors 10 magazines, many of whom had OBJ
tanned their diplomas from public opinion, and
were reposing quietly their laurels perfectly
sured of their fee-simple right to immortal fame,
were suddenly aroused, as from dream, at be-
holding all the labored and gorgeous net work of
their fancy dissolved, as if by magic, into 'thin
and unsubstantial air. "Oldfoges'' of the class
lc school; modern propagandists, worshipping at
the shrines of Wordsworth, Tennyson. and other
"latter-day saints;" the Carlyles, Emersons, and
Parkers, with their strong scent of Dutch pipes,
German beer, and characterization; Young
America, with its literary blood, thunder and fill
busterism-a felt more or less the depicting effects
of his critical catharcs. The fame Of many,
which had gone up like the sky-rocket, by the
dlsenc hantnent OF his pen came down like the
stick.
But the reformer's mission is an ungrateful one,
even in the best cause. The healthy tone impart-
ed to our National Literature by Poes searching
criticisms plead but poor apology with those no
felt their searching effects. He had no mercy on
certain class of writers in his life; and they, in
their turn, had no mercy on him after his death.
Scarcely were his ashes cold in the ground when
the whole pack was let loose, ".rray, Blanch,
Sweetheart, and ALL"
Among other things twas charged that his ma
ture was t'mor0L Dacuum;' that he had the most
nh 8 Nf
the holiness OF vrtue the sanctity of the affections
even the common propretes Of life, &c. And yet
1t is well known by those familiar with him in his
more intimate relations that he a most loving
husband devoted son, Ito a mother-in-la law who
had not the strong Ties of blood 10 attach hm) and
that his heart was alive to The most genial impulses
of our nature. 1t is well known, also, that such
was the peculiarly of his organization that the
smallest quantity of intoxicating drink produced,
as has been termed, kind of moral insanity in his
mind, and indeed distorted his whole nature.
1t was remarked by the lovely and lamented
FANNY OsGooD-that sweetest embodiment of the
poetic ideal in woman's nature-that "none but a
iooman could judge of EDGAR A. PoE." All, true!
none but woman, with her refined and holy SYM
pathes, could catch, with artistic skill, the deli
cate shades, the ever-varying lights, the "lines
within lines'' OF such an exquistely-wrought piece
of God S workmanship.
There is class of minds SO isolated from their
kind-so far removed beyond the sphere of our
own thoughts feeling, and exstence-that it
would be cruel injustice to submit them to the
Protean standard of our common humanity. Poor
Ishmaelites in the desert of this life. the very lone
illness OF their fate should dispose US to suspend
our final judgment, and leave them to the Great
Master who has said tjudge not lest we shall be
Judged"
England has her magnificent palace of the dead,
in which enshrined the mortal remains of those
mighty lntellects who have shed glory as of Hea-
ven on her name. Shall not, then, our own gifted
son of genious-the poor minstrel who sorrowed
through the gloom nj rtol Win team M
brain poured forth its rich flood of ideal splendor
on the world-shall not his memory at least find
honored resting place in the hearts of the good and
| noble and charitable of our land?
Thine was a mind of most unearthy cast
Which held no kindred with its fellow kind,
Bu, H. soaring on the pinions Of the blast
Farth,s hmber miI,fnns y m, sri at 9ennr
From signts which strike the weaker vision blind,
While thou, like eagle soaring to the sum-
Hadst deemed thy giant race but scarce bcguni
And hadst thou st Il maintained giddy height,
And dreamt thy drelminss out amid the skies,
But, like he setting sun, thou didst but Tise "'
Which setis seal Of daekaess on thine eyes,
And. blind and tott,ring IN its moral gloom.
Thy traltor.genius shaped Its masters tomb.
Life is cup, its surface sweet to taste;
and be who would enjoy must learn to sip,
For, quaffng it with much tooeager haste,
And leave his soul bleaened and ruined waste,
with all 1.-THE the visions Isle Of his fancy npp'd
| o, poE! poor fallen child of Pocsy!
With bold and fearful power thou didst tear
The mystic veil from all lile's hidden things,
And then thy rebel soul was doomed to bear
The penalty which too much knowledge brings:
Lies brighter lights to thee grew dark and drear
The mortal stopped though perched angels wings!
And now. with all the gifts OF genius hest
Thou didst but ask of Death the boon OF restl
child of frailty. as an heir OF fame,
Menjudge thee only in thy darker mood
Stamped their own unieeing verdict thy name,
Nor paused to slit the evil from the good.
Yet were there momonts when the liquid fame
Had ceased with mad'ning heat to fire thy blood,
On! teen thy better nature proved its worth
And wore a hue of Heaven more than earth.
All! little reck we OF the fearful tI,roes
Which scorched and agoniztd thy struggling soul
When moved by war between those deadly foes,
The demon Vice and godike Self CONTROL
How oft thy crushed, defeated spirit
To dare the fight a.ain-this is not told;
We only know how thou meath the Sod
The brute at last has triuniphed or the COP!
Sleep, minstrel, sleepi oh, life een at the best
Was but as some dark ieverish dream to thee;
IT'S not for us to mar thy .slong last rest''
With cold upbraidings on thy memory.
AS sunset gores in the fading west
Proclaim the day. gods fallen majesty,
So genius shines about the gifted dead
To tell mankind how great soul has fled!