human mind; such tales of illusion and banter as "The Premature
Burial" and "The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor Fether"; such bits
of extravaganza as "The Devil in the Belfry" and "The Angel of the
Odd"; such tales of adventure as "The Narrative of Arthur Gordon
Pym"; such papers of keen criticism and review as won for Poe the
enthusiastic admiration of Charles Dickens, although they made him
many enemies among the over-puffed minor American writers so
mercilessly exposed by him; such poems of beauty and melody as "The
Bells," "The Haunted Palace," "Tamerlane," "The City in the Sea" and
"The Raven." What delight for the jaded senses of the reader is this
enchanted domain of wonder-pieces! What an atmosphere of beauty,
music, color! What resources of imagination, construction, analysis
and absolute art! One might almost sympathize with Sarah Helen
Whitman, who, confessing to a half faith in the old superstition of
the significance of anagrams, found, in the transposed letters of
Edgar Poe's name, the words "a God-peer." His mind, she says, was
indeed a "Haunted Palace," echoing to the footfalls of angels and
demons.

"No man," Poe himself wrote, "has recorded, no man has dared to
record, the wonders of his inner life."

In these twentieth century days -of lavish recognition-artistic,
popular and material-of genius, what rewards might not a Poe claim!

Edgar's father, a son of General David Poe, the American
revolutionary patriot and friend of Lafayette, had married Mrs.
Hopkins, an English actress, and, the match meeting with parental
disapproval, had himself taken to the stage as a profession.
Notwithstanding Mrs. Poe's beauty and talent the young couple had a