[page 169:]

LIONIZING

“Lionizing” is often considered the best of Poe's humorous stories, the only one of them selected by Evert A. Duyckinck for inclusion among the stories he chose for the 1845 Tales. Poe revised it with great skill and care, and it is amusing even today; the [page 170:] fun can be appreciated on its own account, without knowledge of the background of the satire. The piece is obviously a quiz on N. P. Willis, and is also a parody on a story by Bulwer.

Willis went abroad in 1831, and sent home to the New-York Mirror a series of newsletters, known when collected in book form as Pencillings by the Way. He got into a duel, happily bloodless, with the novelist Captain Marryat. More important to him was the friendship of Lady Blessington. That once world-renowned widow wrote books and edited annuals, to one of which even Tennyson contributed. Now she is remembered chiefly for her salons in London. Believing that some ladies, disapproving of her supposed liaison with Count D’Orsay, would not come to her parties, she invited gentlemen only. Through her Willis met most of the English literati.

Woodberry (Edgar Allan Poe, 1885, p. 85, and Life, I, 130) pointed out a leading source of part of Poe's story in Bulwer's “Too Handsome for Anything,” one of the “other pieces” in Bulwer's book, Conversations with an Ambitious Student in Ill Health, with Other Pieces (New York: J. & J. Harper, 1832), pp. 189ff.

The rest of the story — Ferdinand's vain efforts to marry an heiress, disinheritance by his uncle, and final imprisonment for debt — was not used by Poe.

There is a good deal of humorous literature about noses. Poe undoubtedly knew “Slawkenbergius’ Tale” in Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne, and also most probably knew Robert Macnish's “Man With the Nose” in Blackwood's Magazine for August 1826.* Since Poe's tale was one of the Folio Club stories and probably one of the group of eleven he mentioned when he sent “Epimanes” to the Buckinghams in May 1833, I think it unlikely that it owed anything to a once famous jeu d’esprit by James Gates Percival — “Lecture Extraordinary Upon Nosology;” satirizing a phrenologist named Barber — which was first published in the New Haven Daily Herald, August 17, 1833.†

Poe commented on the general meaning of his story several times. In one unsigned review of the number of the Southern Literary Messenger that contained it he said, “Lionizing ... is an admirable piece of burlesque which displays much reading, a lively humor, and an ability to afford amusement or instruction”; and in another puff he remarked, “It is an extravaganza ... and gives evidence of high powers of fancy and humor.”‡ To J. P. Kennedy he wrote on February 11, 1836 that it was a satire “properly speaking [page 172:] — at least so meant —... of the rage for Lions and the facility of becoming one.”

“The Successful Novel!!” by F. (Theodore S. Fay), in the New-York Mirror, April 9, 1836, is a burlesque of “Lionizing.” Whether Poe's story had any influence on Nasology or Hints towards the Classification of Noses by Eden Warwick, published by Bentley in London in 1848 (and noticed in the New York Literary World, August 26 of that year) I have not ascertained.

LION-IZING. A TALE.   [A]  [[v]]

I am — that is to say, I was, a great man. But I am neither the author of Junius, nor the man in the mask — for my name is Thomas{a} Smith, and I was born somewhere in the city of Fum-Fudge. The first action of my life was the taking hold of my nose with both hands. My mother saw this and called me a genius. My father wept for joy, and bought me a treatise on Nosology. Before I was breeched I had not only mastered the treatise, but had collected [page 173:] into a common-place book all that is said on the subject, by Pliny, Aristotle, Alexander Ross, Minutius Felix, Hermanus Pictorius, Del Rio, Villarêt, Bartholinus, and Sir Thomas Browne.{b}

I now began to feel my way in the science, and soon came to understand, that, provided a man had a nose sufficiently big, he might, by merely following it, arrive at a Lionship. But my attention was not confined to theories alone. Every morning I took a dram or two, and gave my proboscis a couple of pulls. When I came of age my father {cc}sent for me to{cc} his study.

‘My son’ — said he —{d} ‘what is the chief end of your existence?’

‘Father’ — I said — ‘it is the study of Nosology.’

‘And what, Thomas’{e} — he continued — ‘is Nosology?’{f}

‘Sir’ — I replied — ‘it is the Science of Noses.’

‘And can you tell me’ — he asked — ‘what is the meaning of a nose?’

‘A nose, my father’ — said I — ‘has been variously defined, by about a thousand different authors.{g} It is now noon, or thereabouts. We shall therefore{h} have time enough to get through with them all by{i} midnight. To {jj}commence: —{jj} The nose, according to Bartholinus, is that protuberance, that bump, that excrescence, that’ ——

‘That will do Thomas’{k} — said {ll}my father.{ll} ‘I am positively{m} thunderstruck at the extent of your information — I am,{n} upon my soul. Come here! (and he took me by the arm.) Your education may{o} be considered as finished, and it is high time{p} you should scuffle for yourself — so — so — so (here he kicked me down stairs and out of the door,) so get out of my house, and God bless you!’

As I felt within me the divine afflatus, I considered this accident rather fortunate than otherwise, and determined to follow my nose. [page 174:] So I gave it a pull or two, and wrote a pamphlet on Nosology.{q} All Fum-Fudge was in an uproar.

‘Wonderful genius!’ — said the Quarterly.

‘Superb physiologist!’ — said the New Monthly.

‘Fine writer!’ — said the Edinburg.{r}

‘Great man!’ — said Blackwood.

‘Who can he be?’ — said Mrs. Bas-Bleu.

‘What can he be?’ — said big Miss Bas-Bleu.

‘Where can he be?’ — said little Miss Bas-Bleu.

But I paid them no manner of attention, and walked into the shop of an artist.

The Duchess of Bless-my-soul was sitting for her portrait. The Marchioness of So-and-so was holding the Duchess's poodle. The Earl of This-and-that was flirting with her salts, and His Royal Highness of Touch-me-not was standing behind her chair. I merely walked towards the artist, and held up my proboscis.

‘O beautiful!’ — sighed the {ss}Duchess of Bless-my-soul.{ss}

‘O pretty!’ — lisped the {tt}Marchioness of So-and-so.{tt}

‘Horrible!’{u} — groaned the {vv}Earl of This-and-that.{vv}

‘Abominable!’{w} — growled his {xx}Highness of Touch-me-not.{xx}

‘What will you take for it?’ — said the artist.

‘A thousand pounds’ — said I, sitting down.

‘A thousand pounds?’ — he inquired, turning the nose to the light.

‘Precisely’ — said I.

‘Beautiful!’ — said he, looking at the nose.

‘A thousand pounds’ — said I, twisting it to one side.

‘Admirable!’ — said he.

‘A thousand pounds’ — said I.

‘You shall have them’ — said he — ‘what a piece of Virtû!’{y} So he paid me the money, and made a sketch of my nose. I took rooms in Jermyn street, sent his{z} Majesty the ninety-ninth edition [page 175:] of the Nosology with a portrait of the author,{a} and his Royal Highness of Touch-me-not invited me to dinner.

We were all Lions and Recherchés.

There was a Grand Turk from Stamboul. He said that the angels were horses, cocks, and bulls — that somebody in the sixth heaven had seventy thousand heads and seventy thousand tongues — and that the earth was held up by a sky-blue cow with{b} four hundred horns.

There was Sir Positive Paradox. He said that all fools were philosophers, and{c} all philosophers were fools.

There was a writer on Ethics. He talked of Fire, Unity, and Atoms — Bi-part, and Pre-existent soul — Affinity and Discord — primitive Intelligence and Homoomeria.

There was Theologos Theology. He talked of Eusebius and Arianus — Heresy and the Council of Nice — Consubstantialism, Homousios, and Homouioisios.

There was Fricassée from the Rocher de Cancale. He mentioned Latour, Markbrunnen and Mareschino — Muriton of red tongue, and Cauliflowers with Velouté sauce — veal à la St. Menehoult, Marinade à la St. Florentin, and orange jellies en mosaiques.{d}

There was Signor Tintontintino from Florence. He spoke of Cimabue,{e} Arpino, Carpaccio, and Argostino — the gloom of Caravaggio — the amenity of Albano — the golden glories of Titian — the frows of Rubens, and the waggeries of Jan Steen.

There was the great Geologist Feltzpar. He talked of {ff}Hornblende, Mica-slate, Quartz, Schist, Schorl, and Pudding-stone.{ff}

There was the President of the Fum-Fudge University. He said that the moon was called Bendis in Thrace, Bubastis in Egypt, Dian in Rome, and Artemis in Greece.

There was Delphinus Polyglot.{g} He told us what had become of the eighty-three lost tragedies of Æschylus — of the fifty-four orations of Isæus — of the three hundred and ninety-one speeches [page 176:] of Lysias — of the hundred and eighty treatises of Theophrastus — of the eighth book of the Conic Sections of Apollonius — of Pindar's Hymns and Dithyrambics, and the five and forty Tragedies of Homer Junior.

There was a modern Platonist. He quoted Porphyry, Iamblichus, Plotinus, Proclus, Hierocles, Maximus, Tyrius,{h} and Syrianus.

There was a human-perfectibility man. He quoted Turgot, Price, Priestly, Condorcet, De Staël,{i} and the “Ambitious Student in rather ill{j} health.”

There was myself. I talked{k} of Pictarius, Del Rio, Alexander Ross, Minutius Felix, Bartholinus, Sir Thos. Browne, and the Science of Noses.

‘Marvellous clever man!’ — said his Highness.

‘Superb!’ — said the{l} guests: and the next morning her Grace of Bless-my-soul paid me a visit.

‘Will you go to Almacks,{m} pretty creature?’ she said.{n}

‘Certainly”{o} — said I. ‘Nose and all?’ — she asked.

‘Positively”{p} — I replied.

‘Here then is a {qq}card’ — she said — ‘shall{qq} I say you will{r} be there?’

‘Dear Duchess! with all my heart.’

‘Pshaw! no — but with all your nose?’

‘Every bit of it, my life,’{s} — said I. So I gave it a pull or two, and found myself at Almacks.{t} The rooms were crowded to suffocation.

‘He is coming!’ — said somebody on the stair case.

‘He is coming!’ — said somebody farther{u} up.

‘He is coming!’ — said somebody farther{v} still.

‘He is come!’ — said the Duchess — ‘he is come, the little love!’ [page 177:] And she caught me by both hands, and looked me in the nose.

‘Ali joli!{w} — said Mademoiselle Pas Seul.

‘Dios guarda!’ — said Don Stiletto.

‘Diavolo!’ — said Count Capricornuto.

‘Tousand Tenfel!’ — said Baron Bludenuff.{x}

‘Tweedle-dee ——— tweedle-dee ——— tweedle-dum!’ said the orchestra.

‘Ah joli! — Dios guarda! — Diavolo! — and Tousand Teufel!’ repeated Mademoiselle Pas Seul, Don Stiletto, Count Capricornuto, and Baron Bludenuff. It{y} was too bad — it was not to be borne. I grew angry.

‘Sir!’ — said I to the Baron — ‘you are a baboon.’

‘Sir!’ — replied he,{z} after a pause, ——— ‘Donner and{a} Blitzen!’

{b} This was sufficient.{c} The next morning I shot off his nose at six o’clock, and then called upon my friends.

‘Bête!’ — said the first.

‘Fool!’ — said the second.

‘Ninny!’ — said the third.

‘Dolt!’ — said the fourth.

‘Noodle!’ — said the fifth.

‘Ass!’ — said the sixth.

‘Be off!’ — said the seventh.

At all this I felt mortified, and{d} called upon my father.

‘Father’ — I said — ‘what is the chief end of my existence!’{e}

‘My son’ — he replied — ‘it is still the study of Nosology. But in hitting the Baron's nose you have overshot your mark. You have a fine nose it is true, but then Bludenuff has none. You are d——d, and he has become the Lion of the day. In Fum-Fudge great is a Lion with a{f} proboscis, but {gg}greater by far is a Lion with{gg} no proboscis at all.’

[page 178:]

LIONIZING.   [E]  [[v]]

I am — that is to say I was — a great man; but I am neither the author of Junius nor the man in the mask; for my name, I believe, is Robert Jones, and I was born somewhere in the city of Fum-Fudge.(2)

The first action of my life was the taking hold of my nose with both hands. My mother saw this and called me a genius: — my father wept for joy and presented me with a treatise on Nosology.(3) This I mastered before I was breeched.

I now began to feel my way in the science, and soon came to understand that, provided a man had a nose sufficiently conspicuous, he might, by merely following it, arrive at a Lionship. But my attention was not confined to theories alone. Every morning I gave my proboscis a couple of pulls and swallowed a half dozen of drams.

When I came of age my father asked me, one day, if I would step with him into his study.

“My son,” said he, when we were seated, “what is the chief end of your existence?”(4)

“My father,” I answered, “it is the study of Nosology.”

“And what, Robert,” he inquired, “is Nosology?”

“Sir,” I said, “it is the Science of Noses.”

“And can you tell me,” he demanded, “what is the meaning of a nose?”

“A nose, my father,” I replied, greatly softened, “has been variously defined by about a thousand different authors.” [Here I pulled out my watch.]{a} “It is now noon or thereabouts — we shall have time enough to get through with them all before midnight. To commence then: — The nose, according to Bartholinus, is that protuberance — that bump — that excrescence — that ——”

“Will do, Robert,” interrupted the good old gentleman. “I am [page 179:] thunderstruck at the extent of your information — I am positively — upon my soul.” [Here he closed his eyes and placed his hand upon his heart.] “Come here!” [Here he took me by the arm.] “Your education may now be considered as finished — it is high time you should scuffle for yourself — and you cannot do it better thing than merely follow your nose — so — so — so —” [Here he kicked me down stairs and out of the door.]{b} — “so get out of my house, and God bless you!”

As I felt within me the divine afflatus, I considered this accident rather fortunate than otherwise. I resolved to be guided by the paternal advice. I determined to follow my nose. I gave it a pull or two upon the spot, and wrote a pamphlet on Nosology forthwith.

All Fum-Fudge was in an uproar.

“Wonderful genius!” said the Quarterly.

“Superb physiologist!” said the Westminster.

“Clever fellow!” said the Foreign.

“Fine writer!” said the Edinburgh.

“Profound thinker!” said the Dublin.

“Great man!” said Bentley.

“Divine soul!” said Fraser.

“One of us!” said Blackwood.(5)

“Who can he be?” said Mrs. Bas-Bleu.(6)

“What can he be?” said big Miss Bas-Bleu.

“Where can he be?” said little Bliss Bas-Bleu. — But I paid these people no attention whatever — I just stepped into the shop of an artist.

The Duchess of Bless-my-Soul(7) was sitting for her portrait; the Marquis of So-and-So was holding the Duchess’ poodle; the Earl of This-and-That was flirting with her salts; and his Royal Highness of Touch-me-Not was leaning upon the back of her chair.

I approached the artist and turned up my nose.

“Oh, beautiful!” sighed her Grace.

“Oh my!” lisped the Marquis.

“Oh, shocking!” groaned the Earl.

“Oh, abominable!” growled his Royal Highness.

“What will you take for it?” asked the artist. [page 180:]

“For his nose!” shouted her Grace.

“A thousand pounds,” said I, sitting down.

“A thousand pounds?” inquired the artist, musingly.

“A thousand pounds,” said I.

{cc}“Beautiful!” said he, entranced.

“A thousand pounds,” said I.{cc}

“Do you warrant it?” he asked, turning the nose to the light.

“I do,” said I, blowing it well.

“It is quite original?” he inquired,{d} touching it with reverence.

“Humph!” said I, twisting it to one side.

“Has no copy been taken?” he demanded, surveying it through a microscope.

“None,” said I, turning it up.

“Admirable!” he ejaculated, thrown quite off his guard by the beauty of the manœuvre.

“A thousand pounds,” said I.

“A thousand pounds?” said he.

“Precisely,” said I.

“A thousand pounds?” said he.

“Just so,” said I.

“You shall have them,” said he. “What a piece of virtu!”(8) So he drew me a check upon the spot, and took a sketch of my nose. I engaged rooms in Jermyn street,(9) and sent her Majesty(10) the ninety-ninth edition of the “Nosology,” with a portrait of the proboscis. — That sad little rake, the Prince of Wales,(11) invited me to dinner.

We were all lions and recherchés. (12)

There was a modern Platonist. He quoted Porphyry, Iamblicus, Plotinus, Proclus, Hierocles, Maximus Tyrius, and Syrianus.(13)

There was a human-perfectibility man. He quoted Turgot,{e} Price, Priestley,{f} Condorcet,{g} De Staël,{h} and the “Ambitious Student in Ill Health.”(14)

There was Sir Positive Paradox. He observed that all fools were philosophers, and that all philosophers were fools.(15) [page 181:]

There was Æstheticus Ethix. He spoke of fire, unity, and atoms; bi-part and pre-existent soul; affinity and discord; primitive intelligence and homöomeria.(16)

There was Theologos Theology. He talked of Eusebius and Arianus; heresy and the Council of Nice; Puseyism and consubstantialism; Homousios and Homouioisios.(17)

There was Fricassée from the Rocher de Cancale. He mentioned Muriton of red tongue; cauliflowers with velouté sauce; veal à la St. Menehoult; marinade à la St. Florentin; and orange jellies en mosaïques.{i} (18)

There was Bibulus O’Bumper. He touched upon Latour and Markbrünnen; upon Mousseux and Chambertin; upon Richbourg and St. George; upon Haubrion, Leonville, and Medoc; upon Barac and Preignac; upon Grâve, {jj}upon Sauterne, upon Lafitte,{jj} and upon St. Peray. He shook his head at Clos de Vougeot, and told, with his eyes shut, the difference between Sherry and Amontillado.(19)

There was Signor Tintontintino from Florence. He discoursed of Cimabue,{k} Arpino, Carpaccio, and Argostino — of the gloom of Caravaggio, of the amenity of Albano, of the colors of Titian, of the frows of Rubens, and of the waggeries of Jan Steen.(20)

There was the President of the Fum-Fudge University. He was of opinion that the moon was called Bendis in Thrace, Bubastis in Egypt, Dian in Rome, and Artemis in Greece.(21)

There was a Grand Turk from Stamboul. He could not help thinking that the angels were horses, cocks, and bulls; that somebody in the sixth heaven had seventy thousand heads; and that the earth was supported by a sky-blue cow with an incalculable number of green horns.(22)

There was Delphinus Polyglott. IIe told its what had become of the eighty-three lost tragedies of Æschylas; of the fifty-four orations of Isæus; of the three hundred and ninety-one speeches of Lysias; of the hundred and eighty treatises of Theophrastus; of the [page 182:] eighth book of the conic sections of Apollonius; of Pindar's hymns and dithyrambics; and of the five and forty tragedies of Homer Junior.(23)

There was Ferdinand Fitz-Fossillus Feltspar. He informed us all about internal fires and tertiary formations; about aëriforms, fluidiforms, and solidiforms; about quartz and marl; about schist and schorl; about gypsum and trap; about talc and calc; about blende and horn-blende; about mica-slate and pudding-stone; about cyanite and lepidolite; about hæmatite and tremolite; about antimony and calcedony; about manganese and whatever you please.(24)

There was myself. I spoke of myself; — of myself, of myself, of myself; — of Nosology, of my pamphlet, and of myself. I turned up my nose, and I{l} spoke of myself.

“Marvellous clever man!” said the Prince.

“Superb!” said his guests: — and next morning her Grace of Bless-my-Soul paid me a visit.

“Will you go to Almack's,{m} (25) pretty creature?” she said, tapping me under the chin.

“Upon honor,” said I.

“Nose and all?” she asked.

“As I live,” I replied.

“Here then is a card, my life. Shall I say you will be there?”

“Dear Duchess, with all my heart.”

“Pshaw, no! — but with all your nose?”

“Every bit of it, my love,” said I: — so I gave it a twist or two, and found myself at Almack's.

The rooms were crowded to suffocation.

“He is coming!” said somebody on the staircase.

“He is coming!” said somebody farther up.

“He is coming!” said somebody farther still.

“He is come!” exclaimed the Duchess. “He is come, the little love!” — and, seizing me firmly by both hands, she kissed me thrice upon the nose.

A marked sensation immediately ensued.

“Diavolo!” cried Count Capricornutti. [page 183:]

{nn} “Dios guarda!” muttered Don Stiletto.{nn}

“Mille tonnerres!” ejaculated the Prince de Grenouille

“Tousand teufel!” growled the Elector of Bluddennuff.

It{o} was not to be borne. I grew angry. I turned short upon Bluddennuff.

“Sir!” said I to him,{p} “you are a baboon.”

“Sir,” he replied, after a pause, “Donner und Blitzen!”

This was all that could be desired. We exchanged cards. At Chalk-Farm,(26) the next morning, I shot off his nose — and then called upon my friends.

“Bête!” said the first.

“Fool!” said the second.

“Dolt!” said the third.

“Ass!” said the fourth.

“Ninny!” said the fifth.

“Noodle!” said the sixth.

“Be off!” said the seventh.

At all this I felt mortified, and so called upon my father.

“Father,” I asked,{q} “what is the chief end of my existence?”

“My son,” he replied, “it is still the study of Nosology; but in {rr}hitting the Elector upon the{rr} nose you have overshot your mark. You have a fine nose, it is true; but then Bluddennuff has none. You are damned, and he has become the hero of the day. I grant you that in Fum-Fudge the greatness of a lion is in proportion to the size of his proboscis — but, good heavens! there is no competing with a lion who has no proboscis at all.”

VARIANTS (for version A)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 172:]

Title:  Lionizing (B, C)

a  John (C)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 173:]

b  The authors here named have all really treated, at some length, of the nose. Footnote added (C)

cc ... cc  asked me, one day, if I would step into (B, C)

d  he — / he, when we got there, (B); he, when we were seated, (C)

e  John” (C)

f  nosology?” (B) Changed back to upper case in C

g  authors. (here I pulled out my watch). (B); authors. (Here I pulled out my watch). (C)

h  Omitted (B, C)

i  before (B, C)

jj ... jj  commence, then. (B, C)

k  John” (C)

ll ... ll  the old gentleman. (B, C)

m  Omitted (B, C)

n  am positively — (B, C)

o  may now (B, C)

p  time that (B, C)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 174:]

q  New paragraph (C)

r  Edinburgh. (B, C)

ss ... ss  Duchess. (B, C)

tt ... tt  Marchioness. (B, C)

u  “O horrible!” (B, C)

vv ... vv  Earl. (B, C)

w  “O abominable!” (B, C)

xx ... xx  Royal Highness. (B, C)

y  virtu!” (B, C)

z  her (B, C)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 175:]

a  author's nose, (B, C)

b  cow with / cow, having (B, C)

c  and that (C)

d  mosäiques (C)

e  Cimabué, (B, C)

ff ... ff  internal fires and tertiary formations; of aeriforms, fluidifoims, and solidiforms; of quartz and marl; of schist and schorl; of gypsum, hornblende, mica-slate, and pudding-stone. (B, C)

g  Polyglott (B, C)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 176:]

h  Maximus, Tyrius, / Maximus Tyrius, (B, C)

i  De Stael (B, C)

j  rather ill / Ill (B, C)

k  spoke (B, C)

l  his (B, C)

m  Almack's, (B, C)

n  said, chucking me under the chin. (B, C)

o  “Upon honor,” (B, C)

p  “As I live,” (B, C)

qq ... qq  card, my life, shall (B); card, my life; shall (C)

r  will (B, C)

s  love,” (B, C)

t  Almack's, (B, C)

u  further (B, C)

v  further (B, C)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 177:]

w  ‘Ah joli! / “Ah joli!” (B, C)

x  Bludennuff. (B, C) Here and later

y  This applause — it was obstreperous; was not the thing; it (B, C)

z  replied he, / he replied (B, C)

a  und (B, C)

b  No paragraph (B); changed back to paragraph (C)

c  sufficient. We exchanged cards. (B, C)

d  and so (B, C)

e  existence?” (B, C)

f  a big (B, C)

gg ... gg  he should not even attempt a rivalry with a lion who has (C)

VARIANTS (for version E)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 178:]

Title:  Some Passages in the Life of a Lion (D)

a  The square brackets throughout the tale are Poe's.

[The following variant appears at the bottom of page 179:]

b  door] (E, F) Period added from D

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 180:]

cc ... cc  Omitted (D)

d  he inquired, / inquired he, (D)

e  Turgôt, (E, F) corrected from D

f  Priestly, (D, E, F) corrected editorially

g  Condorcêt (E, F) corrected from D

h  Stäel, (D, E, F)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 181:]

i  mosäiques (D, E, F) accent corrected editorially

jj ... jj  Omitted (D)

k  Cimababué, (D) misprint; Cimabué (E, F)

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 182:]

l  Omitted (D)

m  Almacks (D) here and later

[The following variants appear at the bottom of page 183:]

nn ... nn  Omitted (D)

o  This (D)

p  to him omitted (D)

q  said, (D)

rr ... rr  shooting off the Elector's (D)

[page 183, continued:]

NOTES

(The following notes apply to both versions, but they are presented in a sequence keyed to the later text.)

1.  The motto is misquoted from Bishop Joseph Hall's Satires (1597), II, iii, 19-20: “Genus and Species long since barefoote went / Upon their ten-toes in wilde wanderment.”

2.  “Junius” was the author of a famous series of political letters in the [page 184:] London Public Advertiser, 1769-1772; the Man in the Iron Mask (referred to again in “The Man That Was Used Up”) was a political prisoner in France, well known to readers of romance. The identity of neither person is surely known even now, although Junius was probably Sir Philip Francis. The name of the city may owe something to a name in Benjamin Disraeli's Vivian Grey — Mr. Foaming Fudge — or to Thomas Moore's popular book The Fudge Family in Paris (1818); see note 21 below.

3.  Nosology is properly the science of diseases; Poe makes a pun, as if it were the science of noses; the jest was apparently not original.

The authors mentioned in the early versions (A, B, C), as Poe remarked in PHANTASY-PIECES (C), all seem to have written about noses: Pliny the Elder wrote on the subject in Natural History, XI, 59, and elsewhere. Aristotle discussed snub noses in Problemata, XXXIII, 18. Alexander Ross, Master of Southampton Grammar School and an opponent of Sir Thomas Browne, wrote on anatomy. Minucius Felix, the early Christian apologist, has a passage in his Octavius, XXXVIII, 2, about smelling flowers. Hermanus Pictorius I believe is an error — perhaps due to a missing comma — for Paulus Hermannus, an eighteenth-century Dutch botanist, and Georg Pictorius, a sixteenth-century writer on medicine. Martin-Antoine Del Rio (1551-1608) was a Jesuit and bitter critic of the views of Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa; his voluminous works seem to be unindexed, but I think we can take his interest in noses on faith. Foulques de Villaret was a Grand Master (1307-1319) of the Order of the Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem and died in 1327, he does not seem to fit here. Casparus Bartholinus, one of a family of Scandinavian scholars and physicians, published De olfactus organo in 1679 and De respiratione animalium in 1700.

4.  An echo of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, which begins, “What is the chief end of man?”

5.  Poe lists the leading British reviews of the time.

6.  The Bas-Bleu, or Bluestocking, family appears also in “The Man That Was Used Up.”

7.  The Duchess of Bless-my-soul is transparent for Lady Blessington; N. P. Willis mentions her portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence, and an “unfavorable likeness” in the Book of Beauty (a London annual, edited in 1833 by Letitia E. Landon and from 1834 by Lady Blessington herself). Poe has in mind the following from Willis, chapter CXVI of Pencillings by the Way, reprinted in his Prose Works (1845), p. 182, describing a salon of the Countess of Blessington:

8.  Compare “The Visionary,” and “The Assignation” near note 16: “with little deference to the opinions of Virtu.” [page 185:]

9.  Jermyn Street, in a fashionable part of London where there are many clubs, is noted particularly for the distinguished men who have had lodgings there. (Newton, Berkeley, Gray, and Scott are mentioned in Muir's Blue Guide.)

10.  “His Majesty” in the first version becomes “Her Majesty” in the versions published after the accession of Queen Victoria on the death of William IV, June 20, 1837.

11.  The Prince of Wales was added in 1845; nobody had the title from 1820 when George IV became king until 1842 when Albert Edward, later Edward VII, received the title at less than two years of age. Poe may have had the former in mind, though he was neither sad nor little.

12.  The same guests appear in all versions, except for Bibulus O’Bumper, who is not mentioned in A, B, and C. The order of the list in the later versions is followed in the notes below.

13.  At a Blessington soiree, described by Willis in Pencillings, chapter CXXI, Prose Works, p. 190, Benjamin Disraeli discussed Platonism and told how Thomas Taylor, a modern Platonist, was turned out of his lodgings in London when he sacrificed a bull to Jupiter in his back parlor. Reference was also made to the Alexandrian Platonists, discussed in Vivian Grey. The following is from the sixth chapter of the first book of that novel: “Father! I wish to make myself master of the latter Platonists. I want Plotinus, and Porphyry, and Iamblichus, and Syrianus, and Maximus Tyrius, and Proclus, and Hierocles, and Sallustius, and Damascius.” They flourished between circa 150 B. C. and A. D. 485.

14.  All the believers in human perfectibility are named again in “The Landscape Garden” and “The Domain of Arnheim,” save the “Ambitious Student.” Bulwer's series of “Conversations...” appeared in the London New Monthly Magazine in 1831 and 1832 before being reprinted by the Harpers in book form. All the perfectionists are well known, save perhaps Richard Price (1723-1791), an English moralist and preacher.

15.  For the “paradox” see also the “Purloined Letter,” where the Chief of Police thinks “All fools are poets ... and ... all poets are fools.”

16.  The “bi-part soul” figures in “William Wilson” and “The Fall of the House of Usher,” and is mentioned in “The Murders in the Rue Morgue”; homoeomery is the doctrine that elementary substances are composed of parts each similar to the whole.

17.  Eusebius, Bishop of Nicomedia, died in 342; Arius, founder of Arianism, thought Christ less than the Father, something condemned at the Council of Nice (Nicaea in Bithynia) in 325, when the Nicene Creed was framed. Puseyism (in later versions) is a reference to Edward Bouverie Pusey (1800-1882), who led the high-church party of Anglicans; Poe thought poorly of him; see “Marginalia,” number 3, Democratic Review, November 1814, p. 1845 (“the great tweedle-dee tweedle-dum paroxysm — the uproar about Pusey”), and “Desultory Notes on Cats,” below.

The usual English forms of the Greek words are homoousian (of the same essence) and homoiousian (of like essence). They refer to abstruse arguments concerning the nature of Christ: whether the same as that of the Father, or merely [page 186:] similar to His. The Constantinopolitan mob is said to have rioted about these disputes.

18.  The Rocher de Cancale is a great rock in Brittany. It gave its name to a Parisian restaurant, of which N. P. Willis said, in chapter XIV of Pencillings by the Way, that it was “now the first eating-house in Paris, yet they only excel in fish.” See Willis’ Prose Works (1845), p. 23.

Some of the dishes mentioned reappear in “How to Write a Blackwood Article” and “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether.” All except marinade à la St. Florentin are described in the Larousse Gastronomique (New York, 1961).

19.  The wine list (not in the early versions) resembles one in early versions of “Bon-Bon.” Many of the items in Poe's list are not accurate, but it seems unwise to tamper with it. [For a recent discussion, see “Poe's Wine List,” by L. Moffitt Cecil, Poe Studies, December 1972.]

20.  The names of the artists are all well enough known to be found in a good biographical dictionary. An Italian and Flemish art collection in Benjamin Disraeli's The Young Duke (Book II, chapter xiii) contains “Rubens’ satyrs and Albano's boys.” I take “frows” to mean “fraus.” By “Argostino” Poe meant Agostino dalle Prospettive, a Bolognese who flourished in 1525; the spelling was correct in the first version of the story. The realistic Dutch painter Jan Steen (1626-1679) is mentioned in Poe's review of Longfellow in Graham's for April 1842: “If truth is the highest aim of ... painting... Jan Steen was a greater artist than Angelo.” In a review of Charles James Lever's Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dragoon, By Harry Lorrequer in the same magazine for March 1842, Poe said, “For one Angelo there are five hundred Jan Steens.”

21.  For the President's information see B. Disraeli's Vivian Grey, Bk. III chapter vi: “Queen of Night! in whatever name thou most delightest! Or Bendis, as they hail thee in rugged Thrace; or Bubastis, as they howled to thee in mysterious Egypt; or Dian, as they sacrificed to thee in gorgeous Rome; or Artemis, as they sighed to thee on the bright plains of ever glorious Greece.” Observe the caution of the academic character, whose opinion nobody could dispute. [See a further gloss on this paragraph with reference to Moore's Fudge Family in Paris and his The Epicurean (1827) in B. Pollin's “Light on'shadow’ and Other Pieces by Poe; ...” Emerson Society Quarterly, Third Quarter, 1972.]

22.  These extravagant Mahometan legends are referred to again in “The Thousand-and-Second Tale of Schelterazade.”

23.  Delphinus Polyglott takes his first name from the Delphin edition of the Latin classics prepared by order of Louis XIV “For the Use of the Dauphin.” With the exception of Homer junior's lost works all of the lost Greek books are mentioned in “Some Ancient Greek Authors” in the Southern Literary Messenger, April 1836. The article is signed “P.” and has been assigned to Poe; but like Campbell (Mind of Poe, p. 215) I think the author was probably Lucian Minor. Whether Poe and Minor relied on a common source is not determined. The forty-five tragedies of Homer junior not in the Southern Literary Messenger list are mentioned in Anthon's Lemprière, p. 357, col. 2, as well as in the 1806 London edition of Lemprière. [page 187:]

24.  The geological collection was expanded from earlier versions. Ferdinand's given names echo Bulwer's character Ferdinand Fitzroy, mentioned above.

25.  Admission was only by ticket to Almack's Balls held in the Assembly Rooms opened in 1765 by William Almack in King Street, St. James's, and inherited by his niece, Mrs. Willis, in 1781. The rooms are mentioned factually in “The Balloon Hoax.”

26.  Chalk Farm was a well-known duelling place north of Regents’ Park. There Moore met Jeffrey in a bloodless encounter celebrated by Byron in “English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.” Poe again satirized the duello in “Mystification.”

[[Footnotes]]

[The following footnotes appear at the bottom of page 171:]

*  See Maxwell Morton, A Builder of the Beautiful (1928), p. 39. [For later discussion see Richard P. Benton, “Poe's ‘Lionizing’; A Quiz on Willis and Lady Blessington,” Studies in Short Fiction, Spring 1968, and G. R. Thompson, “On the Nose ...” with Benton's reply, ibid, Fall 1968.]

†  Reprinted by Julius H. Ward in Life and Letters of ... Percival (1866), pp. 408-411.

‡  Baltimore Republican, June 13 and 15, respectively.