Poe, Edgar Allen - The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe

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by Volume 01-05 (lit)


  this sum; but for my part, I found the necessary outlay of capital

  too great to permit of my "going on" under a shilling.

  At this occupation I did a good deal; but, somehow, I was not quite

  satisfied, and so finally abandoned it. The truth is, I labored under

  the disadvantage of having no monkey -- and American streets are so

  muddy, and a Democratic rabble is so obstrusive, and so full of

  demnition mischievous little boys.

  I was now out of employment for some months, but at length succeeded,

  by dint of great interest, in procuring a situation in the Sham-Post.

  The duties, here, are simple, and not altogether unprofitable. For

  example: -- very early in the morning I had to make up my packet of

  sham letters. Upon the inside of each of these I had to scrawl a few

  lines on any subject which occurred to me as sufficiently mysterious

  -- signing all the epistles Tom Dobson, or Bobby Tompkins, or

  anything in that way. Having folded and sealed all, and stamped them

  with sham postmarks -- New Orleans, Bengal, Botany Bay, or any other

  place a great way off- I set out, forthwith, upon my daily route, as

  if in a very great hurry. I always called at the big houses to

  deliver the letters, and receive the postage. Nobody hesitates at

  paying for a letter -- especially for a double one -- people are such

  fools- and it was no trouble to get round a corner before there was

  time to open the epistles. The worst of this profession was, that I

  had to walk so much and so fast; and so frequently to vary my route.

  Besides, I had serious scruples of conscience. I can't bear to hear

  innocent individuals abused -- and the way the whole town took to

  cursing Tom Dobson and Bobby Tompkins was really awful to hear. I

  washed my hands of the matter in disgust.

  My eighth and last speculation has been in the Cat-Growing way. I

  have found that a most pleasant and lucrative business, and, really,

  no trouble at all. The country, it is well known, has become infested

  with cats -- so much so of late, that a petition for relief, most

  numerously and respectably signed, was brought before the Legislature

  at its late memorable session. The Assembly, at this epoch, was

  unusually well-informed, and, having passed many other wise and

  wholesome enactments, it crowned all with the Cat-Act. In its

  original form, this law offered a premium for cat-heads (fourpence

  a-piece), but the Senate succeeded in amending the main clause, so as

  to substitute the word "tails" for "heads." This amendment was so

  obviously proper, that the House concurred in it nem. con.

  As soon as the governor had signed the bill, I invested my whole

  estate in the purchase of Toms and Tabbies. At first I could only

  afford to feed them upon mice (which are cheap), but they fulfilled

  the scriptural injunction at so marvellous a rate, that I at length

  considered it my best policy to be liberal, and so indulged them in

  oysters and turtle. Their tails, at a legislative price, now bring me

  in a good income; for I have discovered a way, in which, by means of

  Macassar oil, I can force three crops in a year. It delights me to

  find, too, that the animals soon get accustomed to the thing, and

  would rather have the appendages cut off than otherwise. I consider

  myself, therefore, a made man, and am bargaining for a country seat

  on the Hudson.

  ~~~ End of Text ~~~

  ======

  THE LANDSCAPE GARDEN

  The garden like a lady fair was cut

  That lay as if she slumbered in delight,

  And to the open skies her eyes did shut;

  The azure fields of heaven were 'sembled right

  In a large round set with flow'rs of light:

  The flowers de luce and the round sparks of dew

  That hung upon their azure leaves, did show

  Like twinkling stars that sparkle in the ev'ning blue.

  -- GILES FLETCHER

  NO MORE remarkable man ever lived than my friend, the young Ellison.

  He was remarkable in the entire and continuous profusion of good

  gifts ever lavished upon him by fortune. From his cradle to his

  grave, a gale of the blandest prosperity bore him along. Nor do I use

  the word Prosperity in its mere wordly or external sense. I mean it

  as synonymous with happiness. The person of whom I speak, seemed born

  for the purpose of foreshadowing the wild doctrines of Turgot, Price,

  Priestley, and Condorcet -- of exemplifying, by individual instance,

  what has been deemed the mere chimera of the perfectionists. In the

  brief existence of Ellison, I fancy, that I have seen refuted the

  dogma -- that in man's physical and spiritual nature, lies some

  hidden principle, the antagonist of Bliss. An intimate and anxious

  examination of his career, has taught me to understand that, in

  general, from the violation of a few simple laws of Humanity, arises

  the Wretchedness of mankind; that, as a species, we have in our

  possession the as yet unwrought elements of Content, -- and that even

  now, in the present blindness and darkness of all idea on the great

  question of the Social Condition, it is not impossible that Man, the

  individual, under certain unusual and highly fortuitous conditions,

  may be happy.

  With opinions such as these was my young friend fully imbued; and

  thus is it especially worthy of observation that the uninterrupted

  enjoyment which distinguished his life was in great part the result

  of preconcert. It is, indeed evident, that with less of the

  instinctive philosophy which, now and then, stands so well in the

  stead of experience, Mr. Ellison would have found himself

  precipitated, by the very extraordinary successes of his life, into

  the common vortex of Unhappiness which yawns for those of preeminent

  endowments. But it is by no means my present object to pen an essay

  on Happiness. The ideas of my friend may be summed up in a few words.

  He admitted but four unvarying laws, or rather elementary principles,

  of Bliss. That which he considered chief, was (strange to say!) the

  simple and purely physical one of free exercise in the open air. "The

  health," he said, "attainable by other means than this is scarcely

  worth the name." He pointed to the tillers of the earth -- the only

  people who, as a class, are proverbially more happy than others --

  and then he instanced the high ecstasies of the fox-hunter. His

  second principle was the love of woman. His third was the contempt of

  ambition. His fourth was an object of unceasing pursuit; and he held

  that, other things being equal, the extent of happiness was

  proportioned to the spirituality of this object.

  I have said that Ellison was remarkable in the continuous profusion

  of good gifts lavished upon him by Fortune. In personal grace and

  beauty he exceeded all men. His intellect was of that order to which

  the attainment of knowledge is less a labor than a necessity and an

  intuition. His family was one of the most illustrious of the empire.

  His bride was the loveliest and most devoted of women. His

  possessions had been always ample; but, upon the attainment of his

 
one and twentieth year, it was discovered that one of those

  extraordinary freaks of Fate had been played in his behalf which

  startle the whole social world amid which they occur, and seldom fail

  radically to alter the entire moral constitution of those who are

  their objects. It appears that about one hundred years prior to Mr.

  Ellison's attainment of his majority, there had died, in a remote

  province, one Mr. Seabright Ellison. This gentlemen had amassed a

  princely fortune, and, having no very immediate connexions, conceived

  the whim of suffering his wealth to accumulate for a century after

  his decease. Minutely and sagaciously directing the various modes of

  investment, he bequeathed the aggregate amount to the nearest of

  blood, bearing the name Ellison, who should be alive at the end of

  the hundred years. Many futile attempts had been made to set aside

  this singular bequest; their ex post facto character rendered them

  abortive; but the attention of a jealous government was aroused, and

  a decree finally obtained, forbidding all similar accumulations. This

  act did not prevent young Ellison, upon his twenty-first birth-day,

  from entering into possession, as the heir of his ancestor,

  Seabright, of a fortune of four hundred and fifty millions of

  dollars. {*1}

  When it had become definitely known that such was the enormous wealth

  inherited, there were, of course, many speculations as to the mode of

  its disposal. The gigantic magnitude and the immediately available

  nature of the sum, dazzled and bewildered all who thought upon the

  topic. The possessor of any appreciable amount of money might have

  been imagined to perform any one of a thousand things. With riches

  merely surpassing those of any citizen, it would have been easy to

  suppose him engaging to supreme excess in the fashionable

  extravagances of his time; or busying himself with political

  intrigues; or aiming at ministerial power, or purchasing increase of

  nobility, or devising gorgeous architectural piles; or collecting

  large specimens of Virtu; or playing the munificent patron of Letters

  and Art; or endowing and bestowing his name upon extensive

  institutions of charity. But, for the inconceivable wealth in the

  actual possession of the young heir, these objects and all ordinary

  objects were felt to be inadequate. Recourse was had to figures; and

  figures but sufficed to confound. It was seen, that even at three per

  cent, the annual income of the inheritance amounted to no less than

  thirteen millions and five hundred thousand dollars; which was one

  million and one hundred and twenty-five thousand per month; or

  thirty-six thousand, nine hundred and eighty-six per day, or one

  thousand five hundred and forty-one per hour, or six and twenty

  dollars for every minute that flew. Thus the usual track of

  supposition was thoroughly broken up. Men knew not what to imagine.

  There were some who even conceived that Mr. Ellison would divest

  himself forthwith of at least two-thirds of his fortune as of utterly

  superfluous opulence; enriching whole troops of his relatives by

  division of his superabundance.

  I was not surprised, however, to perceive that he had long made up

  his mind upon a topic which had occasioned so much of discussion to

  his friends. Nor was I greatly astonished at the nature of his

  decision. In the widest and noblest sense, he was a poet. He

  comprehended, moreover, the true character, the august aims, the

  supreme majesty and dignity of the poetic sentiment. The proper

  gratification of the sentiment he instinctively felt to lie in the

  creation of novel forms of Beauty. Some peculiarities, either in his

  early education, or in the nature of his intellect, had tinged with

  what is termed materialism the whole cast of his ethical

  speculations; and it was this bias, perhaps, which imperceptibly led

  him to perceive that the most advantageous, if not the sole

  legitimate field for the exercise of the poetic sentiment, was to be

  found in the creation of novel moods of purely physical loveliness.

  Thus it happened that he became neither musician nor poet; if we use

  this latter term in its every -- day acceptation. Or it might have

  been that he became neither the one nor the other, in pursuance of an

  idea of his which I have already mentioned -- the idea, that in the

  contempt of ambition lay one of the essential principles of happiness

  on earth. Is it not, indeed, possible that while a high order of

  genius is necessarily ambitious, the highest is invariably above that

  which is termed ambition? And may it not thus happen that many far

  greater than Milton, have contentedly remained "mute and inglorious?"

  I believe the world has never yet seen, and that, unless through some

  series of accidents goading the noblest order of mind into

  distasteful exertion, the world will never behold, that full extent

  of triumphant execution, in the richer productions of Art, of which

  the human nature is absolutely capable.

  Mr. Ellison became neither musician nor poet; although no man lived

  more profoundly enamored both of Music and the Muse. Under other

  circumstances than those which invested him, it is not impossible

  that he would have become a painter. The field of sculpture, although

  in its nature rigidly poetical, was too limited in its extent and in

  its consequences, to have occupied, at any time, much of his

  attention. And I have now mentioned all the provinces in which even

  the most liberal understanding of the poetic sentiment has declared

  this sentiment capable of expatiating. I mean the most liberal public

  or recognized conception of the idea involved in the phrase "poetic

  sentiment." But Mr. Ellison imagined that the richest, and altogether

  the most natural and most suitable province, had been blindly

  neglected. No definition had spoken of the Landscape-Gardener, as of

  the poet; yet my friend could not fail to perceive that the creation

  of the Landscape-Garden offered to the true muse the most magnificent

  of opportunities. Here was, indeed, the fairest field for the display

  of invention, or imagination, in the endless combining of forms of

  novel Beauty; the elements which should enter into combination being,

  at all times, and by a vast superiority, the most glorious which the

  earth could afford. In the multiform of the tree, and in the

  multicolor of the flower, he recognized the most direct and the most

  energetic efforts of Nature at physical loveliness. And in the

 

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