in ratiocination as the “Gold-bug,” “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” “The Purloined Letter” and “The Mystery of Marie Roget,” the latter, a recital of fact, demonstrating the author’s wonderful capability of correctly analyzing the mysteries of the 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 sorry struggle for existence.  When Edgar, at the age of two years, was orphaned, the family was in the utmost destitution.  Apparently the future poet was to be cast upon the world homeless and friendless.  But fate decreed that a few glimmers of sunshine were to illumine his life, for the little fellow was adopted by John Allan, a wealthy merchant of Richmond, Va.  A brother and sister, the remaining children, were cared for by others.

In his new home Edgar found all the luxury and advantages money could provide.  He was petted, spoiled and shown off to strangers.  In Mrs. Allan he found all the affection a childless wife could bestow.  Mr. Allan took much pride in the captivating, precocious lad.  At the age of five the boy recited, with fine effect, passages of English poetry to the visitors at the Allan house.

From his eighth to his thirteenth year he attended the Manor House school, at Stoke-Newington, a suburb of London.  It was the Rev. Dr. Bransby, head of the school, whom Poe so quaintly portrayed in “William Wilson.”  Returning to Richmond in 1820 Edgar was sent to the school of Professor Joseph H. Clarke.  He proved an apt pupil.  Years afterward Professor Clarke thus wrote: