Text: Edgar Allan Poe and Thomas Ollive Mabbott, “Henry Cary” The Collected Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Vol. IV: The Literati of New York City (2026), pp. 84-87 (This material is protected by copyright)

[page 84:]

HENRY CARY.(1)

Doctor Griswold introduces Mr. Cary to the appendix of “The Poet and Poetry,” as Mr. Henry Carey, and gives him credit for an Anacreontic song of much merit entitled, or commencing, “Old Wine to Drink.”(2) This was not written by Mr. C.  He has composed little verse, if any, but, under the nom de plume of “John Waters,” has acquired some note by a series of prose essays in “The New York American” and “The Knickerbocker.” These essays have merit, unquestionably, but some person, in an article furnished “The Broadway Journal,” before my assumption of its editorship, has gone to the extreme of toadyism in their praise.  This critic (possibly Mr. Briggs) thinks that John Waters “is in some sort a Sam Rogers” — “resembles Lamb in fastidiousness of taste” — “has a finer artistic taste than the author of the “Sketch Book’ ” — that his “sentences are the most perfect in the language — too perfect to be peculiar” — that “it would be a vain task to hunt through them all for a superfluous conjunction,” and that “we need them (the works of John Waters!) as models of style in these days of rhodomontades and Macaulayisms!”

The truth seems to be that Mr. Cary is a vivacious, fanciful, entertaining essayist — a fifth or sixth rate one — with a style that, as times go — in view of such stylists as Mr. Briggs, for example — may be termed respectable, and no more.  What the critic of the B. J. wishes us to understand by a style that is “too perfect,” “the most perfect,” etc., it is scarcely worth while to inquire, since it is generally supposed that “perfect” admits of no degrees of comparison; but if Mr. Briggs (or whoever it is) finds it “a vain task to hunt” through all Mr. John Waters’ works “for a superfluous conjunction,” there are few schoolboys who would not prove more successful hunters than Mr. Briggs.(3)

“It was well filled,” says the essayist, on the very page containing these encomiums, “and yet the number of performers,” etc. “We paid our visit to the incomparable ruins of the castle, and then proceeded to retrace our steps, and, examining our wheels at every post-house, reached,” etc. “After consultation with a mechanic at Heidelberg, and finding that,” etc. The last sentence should read, “Finding, after consultation,” etc. — the “and” would thus be avoided. Those in the two sentences first quoted are obviously pleonastic.(4) Mr. Cary, in fact, abounds very especially in superfluities — (as here, for example, “He seated himself at a piano that was near the front of the stage”) — and, to speak the truth, is continually guilty of all kinds of grammatical improprieties. I repeat that, in this respect, he is decent, and no more.

Mr. Cary is what Doctor Griswold calls a “gentleman of elegant leisure.”(5) He is wealthy and much addicted to letters and virtû. For a long time he was President of the Phœnix Bank of New York, and the principal part of his life has been devoted to business. There is nothing remarkable about his personal appearance.

[page 85:]

“Literary American” version of the article on Cary.

Henry Cary.

Dr Griswold introduces Mr Cary to the Appendix of the “Poets and Poetry” as Mr Henry Carey, and gives him credit for the spirited Anacreontic song commencing “Old Wine to Drink.” This, however, was not written by Mr C. He has composed but little verse, if any; although, under the nom de plume of John Waters, he has acquired some note by a series of prose essays in the “New-York American” and the “Knickerbocker.” These essays have merit, unquestionably; but some person, in a paper furnished the “Broadway Journal” before my assumption of its editorship, has gone to the extreme of absurdity in their praise. This critic (probably Mr Briggs) thinks that John Waters “is in some sort a Sam Rogers” — “resembles Lamb in fastidiousness of taste” — “has a finer artistic taste than the author of ‘The Sketch-Book’ ” — that “his sentences are the most perfect in the language; too perfect to be peculiar” — that “it would be a vain task to hunt through them all for a superfluous conjunction” — and that “we need them (the works of John Waters!) as models of style in these days of rhodomontades and Macaulayisms”!

The truth seems to be that Mr Cary is a vivacious, amusing essayist — a fifth or sixth rate one — with a style that, as times go, — in view of such stylists as Mr Briggs, for example — may be termed respectable and no more. What Mr B. wishes us to understand by a style that is “too perfect,” “the most perfect” etc., it is scarcely worth while to inquire, since it is generally supposed that “perfect” admits of no degrees of comparison; [page 86:] but if the critic in question finds it “a vain task to hunt” through all Mr John Waters’ works “for a superfluous conjunction,” there is not a schoolboy in the land who would not prove more successful in hunting at least, if not in criticism, than this gentleman who has so very indifferent an opinion of Macaulay. “It was well filled,” says the essayist, as quoted on the very page containing these encomiums, “and yet the number of performers” etc. Again, just below — “We paid our visit to the incomparable ruins of the castle, and then proceeded to retrace our steps, and, examine our wheels at every post-house, reached,” etc. Here the ands italicized are obviously superfluous”. Again, immediately below, — “After consultation with a mechanic at Heidelberg and finding that” etc. Here the and is pleonastic, because the whole force of the sentence might be thus given — “Finding, after consultation,” etc. Mr Cary, in fact, abounds very especially in superfluities — such as we find here, for example — “He seated himself at a piano that was near the front of the stage” — and, to speak the truth, is continually guilty of all kinds of grammatical improprieties. I repeat that, in point of verbal style, he is decent and no more. His greatest literary misfortune, nevertheless, is the having for friend and defender so warm a critic as Mr Briggs.

Mr Cary, also, is a “gentleman of elegant leisure.” He is wealthy and addicted to letters and virtû. For a long time he was President of the Phœnix Bank of New-York, and the principal part of his life has been devoted to business.

[[Notes]]

[page 87:]

1. No record of the date of Cary's birth has been found. He died in Florence, Italy, in September or October, 1857, some six months before L. G. Clake heard of it. See his two notices in the Knickerbocker April 1858 and April 1860 (LI, 422 and LV, 438). Duyckinck says “Spring of 1857,” but this is probably based on a hasty reading of what Clark wrote.

[[Mabbott's statements were true at the time his notes were created, but we have more precise information now. His remains were exhumed from Florence and moved to Rumney Marsh Burial Grounds in Revere, MA (just a little north of Boston). Papers concerning the Cary family history are now in the collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society, in Boston. They state that he died on August 18, 1857 at the age of 72 years and 34 days, which would make his date of birth July 16, 1785, presumably in the area around Boston. These papers also settle any questions that might remain concerning the spelling of the last name of Cary — JAS]]

Henry Cary was capable of spelling his name Carey and Cary in a single document preserved at Harvard; his name appeared variously in different city directories.

2. [[What Poe calls “Old Wine to Drink” appeared as “Give Me the Old” in Griswold's Poets and Poetry of America, 1842, p. 459, in the section of “various authors,” attributed to “Henry Carey.” “Old wine to drink” is the first line of the poem. It also appeared with the title “A Winter Wish,” by which it is generally known today — JAS]] Richard [[Robert]] Hinckley Messinger (1811-1874) revealed his authorship of “A Winter Wish” in response to a plea in the Home Journal, March 10, 1855. It appeared first anonymously in the New York American, April 26, 1838.

3. The Briggs article is in the Broadway Journal, January 25, 1845. [[“American Prose Writers No. 3: John Waters”. In his 1941 dissertation on A Canon of the Critical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, W. D. Hull attributes the article to Briggs as “typical of him,’ p. 534 — JAS]]

4. The quotation is from an essay on Liszt called “Extract from a Notebook” in the Knickerbocker, November 1840. (See James B. Reece.)

5. Griswold did use the phrase quoted, but of William Cliffton, whose leisure was enforced by poor health.

6. [[Mabbott intended to include also the text of the “Literary America” version, which is what was printed by Griswold. That MS is now in the HRCL of the University of Texas. It shows mostly minor stylistic changes from the original “Literati” text. It was a leaf of the manuscript given by William M. Griswold to Charles Eliot Norton. Mabbott provides no special notes for the manuscript text — JAS]]

See also Marginalia, no. 158 [[(from the Democratic Review for April 1846) which essentially echoes this “Literati” entry, although the “Literati” version is somewhat expanded — JAS]]