Text: Seba Smith, “Edgar A. Poe (Editor's Studio),” United States Magazine (New York, NY), vol. IV, no. 6, June 1857, pp. 633-634

[page 633, col. 1, continued:]

SINCE the publication of our critique upon this child of genius and song, we have received several communications, from different parts of the country, commenting upon our remarks, and expressing opinions more or less sympathetic with our article all going to show how deep and abiding has been the impress of the man upon the minds of the public. Our object was, most certainly, to do all in our power to present him more justly and truly to the minds of our people than any of his biographers have hitherto done. This intention has been generally acknowledged, and the result has been as we had anticipated. An interest has been awakened in his behalf, and an interest, also, in the personal experience of men and women of genius, which may be traced home at once to the pages of our Magazine. We hope to do still more in this field, for we have long been of opinion that biography — its true basis and profound claims to the attention of the reader — was little understood and appreciated among us.

A valued correspondent, remarkable for deep, beautiful insight, writes us the following:

“It is said that all men have two natures — a higher and a lower — a divine and a demoniac sphere of life. It has been so painful for me to contemplate the lower sphere of his life, that I have habitually turned away from it to look at that other nobler and more interior nature. In this I believe, and would fain ignore the rest. * * * From any other point of view, I see that your estimate is a most kind and tolerant one. I like, especially, the passage commencing, We listen as to a dirge, but it is not of mortal sounding,’ and that in which you speak of his manner toward women. I do not think with you, that his manner gave the impression of habitual insincerity. On the contrary, he seemed to me — in his private character — simple, direct and genuine, beyond all other persons that I have known. * * * I believe, too, that in the artistic utterance of poetic emotion he was profoundly, passionately genuine; genuine in the expression of his utter desolation of soul — his tender, remorseful regret for the departed; his love, his hate, his pride, his perversity, and his despair. He was, it is true, vindictive, [column 2:] revengeful, unscrupulous in the use of expedients to attain his ends; but never false and fair-seeming from an inherent perfidy and hollowness of heart. * * * I feel sure that your notice will be read with interest, and will help to remove from his memory some undeserved imputations.”

We have given the above extracts, because we wish the lamented child of song should have the benefit of all that can be said in his praise, and because the words are conceived in a vein of finely-turned analysis, such as is rarely found. We only regret that a writer of such qualifications, so abundantly able to afford valuable material to the literature of the country, should appear so sparingly in print.

We are willing that the inner life should be fully accepted, in the dead as in the living; we are willing to ignore much, very much, as the fruits of nervous irritation, of poverty and suffering — but we must not, even in our best charities, lose sight of that fullness and perfection of external life out of which is to be evolved the excellence of the race, the greatness and beauty of a true humanity. We can but state the manifestations as they were forced upon us; and if the cloud be dark, fail not to believe in its “silver lining.”

Another correspondent writes: “I am willing to solicit subscriptions, personally, for the purpose of erecting a suitable monument over the last remains of our unfortunate young countryman, Edgar A. Poe, whose resplendent genius gave such an admiring tone to the spirit of his muse, and whose giant mind served to the appreciating and fostering of American literature. His youth and his child-like simplicity should plead for his infirmities; and as he has passed from earth away, let his deeds sleep with him. Yes, let the

But his transcendent genius is immortal, and should serve to cancel any grudge that we might entertain against the actions of the man. The casket which contained such a bright genius should not be suffered to lie in utter oblivion, but should be assigned a place of recognition, at least.”

The same correspondent also sends us the following appeal to the public in behalf of the memory of the gifted but unfortunate deceased poet: