Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1886-12-24
ONE WHO KNEW POE.
The Eccentric Poet an illustration of His
Own Dnct rinR o. pnrN.raIfv-


A few nights ago / found myself in
the study of my old friend. the profess
sor of bellies lettres in the great univer-
sity of k. The university was my
own alma mater, but had visited it
especially for the purpose of spending
an evening with the professor of belle
lettres, for he was most extraordinary
man. The room was filled with curious
books, prints and pictures, and bronzes
that the professor had picked up here
and there during his travels, for he had
been abroad many times Among them
| noticed a small picture of Poe. 1t re-
minded me of my adventure in Balti-
more few days before, and | TOLD the
professor about it. When | had finished
he laughed, and said
Poe was hard case. He was liv-
ing illustration of his own doctrine of
perversity. It's very hard to make him
out | think his tale of William Wilson
is the best commentary on himself that
he has left US. The double identity of
William Wilson is strictly analogous to
Poe himself and the evil genius that fol-
lowed him all through his life. As one
grows older | think one realizes more
fully the emptiness of his verse-I
mean the absence of motive and
the lack of strong, central
thought. He had no burden
to deliver. Walt Whitman, whatever
may be thought of his poety, is the only
American poet who may be said to have
burden to deliver. And yet Poe had a
song in him-the first requisite for a
true poet. Longfellow's poetry is merely
literary-graceful, pure, popular, and all
that you know, but embodying nothing
of his own personal experiences Lowell
we hardly think of as a poet, and
Bryants work has been greatly over
estimated. His poetry is wilderness of
death. There is nothing poetical about
death in itself-it is life that is poetical.
am acquainted with a gentleman in
Philadelphia who knows more about Poe
probably than any other living man.
Before Poe's death this gentleman edited
a publication there. Poe used to con-
tribute to it, and the manner in which
he submitted his matter was very novel.
1t seems that he wrote on small sheets
of paper, and when he had filled one
sheet he pasted another on the end of it,
and so continued. When the article was
finished he rolled the manuscript up
tightly. Then he would present himself
in the editors office, and say:
I've got another story for you, Mr..
P
" How long is it,
Well, it's so long, Poe would reply,
giving the ball a shoot across the room
and letting it fall at full length on the
floor.
He was wretchedly poor He might
have had troops of friends, you know,
but some way he had the devil in him.
At one time he was the assistant editor
of a neutrality-suspicious. | believe.
The editor was compelled to be
out of the city for time and
he left the next edition of the
magazine in Poe's charge. When he re-
turned he was astonished to find that
nothing had been done. Poe had disap-
peared. He at once began a search for
his missing assistant. He finally found
him in drinking-shop with some
friends. Mr.. Poe, he said, 1 left you
in charge of my magazine and return
to find that nothing has been done How
do you account for this?'
"Poe merely invited him to go to
very warm place and held up the pros
pectus of a magazine of his own that he
was about to start. That was his dream
all through life-to edit a magazine.
There has been a great deal of foolish
talk about his drinking habits. He was
not regular drinker, but the trouble
with him was that if he touched single
glass of liquor he had to keep on until
he reached a climax. He had keen
critical faculty, but it was unreliable,
captious, and sometimes tinical He
abused Longfellow shamefully, and
whenever he detected any one using the
word 'nevermore he always thought it
was stolen from The Raven
"By the way" he continued as | rose,
I'll send you copy of my book as soon
as it's published" l thanked the pro-
fessor and babe him goodnight "F.
NJ. L." in Chicago Times.