Lingua-Stem

 view release on metacpan or  search on metacpan

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

hung, by way of car, an enormous drab beaver hat, with a brim
superlatively broad, and a hemispherical crown with a black band and
a silver buckle. It is, however, somewhat remarkable that many
citizens of Rotterdam swore to having seen the same hat repeatedly
before; and indeed the whole assembly seemed to regard it with eyes
of familiarity; while the vrow Grettel Pfaall, upon sight of it,
uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise, and declared it to be the
identical hat of her good man himself. Now this was a circumstance
the more to be observed, as Pfaall, with three companions, had
actually disappeared from Rotterdam about five years before, in a
very sudden and unaccountable manner, and up to the date of this
narrative all attempts had failed of obtaining any intelligence
concerning them whatsoever. To be sure, some bones which were thought
to be human, mixed up with a quantity of odd-looking rubbish, had
been lately discovered in a retired situation to the east of
Rotterdam, and some people went so far as to imagine that in this
spot a foul murder had been committed, and that the sufferers were in
all probability Hans Pfaall and his associates. But to return.

The balloon (for such no doubt it was) had now descended to within a
hundred feet of the earth, allowing the crowd below a sufficiently
distinct view of the person of its occupant. This was in truth a very
droll little somebody. He could not have been more than two feet in
height; but this altitude, little as it was, would have been
sufficient to destroy his equilibrium, and tilt him over the edge of
his tiny car, but for the intervention of a circular rim reaching as
high as the breast, and rigged on to the cords of the balloon. The
body of the little man was more than proportionately broad, giving to
his entire figure a rotundity highly absurd. His feet, of course,
could not be seen at all, although a horny substance of suspicious
nature was occasionally protruded through a rent in the bottom of the
car, or to speak more properly, in the top of the hat. His hands were
enormously large. His hair was extremely gray, and collected in a cue
behind. His nose was prodigiously long, crooked, and inflammatory;
his eyes full, brilliant, and acute; his chin and cheeks, although
wrinkled with age, were broad, puffy, and double; but of ears of any
kind or character there was not a semblance to be discovered upon any
portion of his head. This odd little gentleman was dressed in a loose
surtout of sky-blue satin, with tight breeches to match, fastened
with silver buckles at the knees. His vest was of some bright yellow
material; a white taffety cap was set jauntily on one side of his
head; and, to complete his equipment, a blood-red silk handkerchief
enveloped his throat, and fell down, in a dainty manner, upon his
bosom, in a fantastic bow-knot of super-eminent dimensions.

Having descended, as I said before, to about one hundred feet from
the surface of the earth, the little old gentleman was suddenly
seized with a fit of trepidation, and appeared disinclined to make
any nearer approach to terra firma. Throwing out, therefore, a
quantity of sand from a canvas bag, which, he lifted with great
difficulty, he became stationary in an instant. He then proceeded, in
a hurried and agitated manner, to extract from a side-pocket in his
surtout a large morocco pocket-book. This he poised suspiciously in
his hand, then eyed it with an air of extreme surprise, and was
evidently astonished at its weight. He at length opened it, and
drawing there from a huge letter sealed with red sealing-wax and tied
carefully with red tape, let it fall precisely at the feet of the
burgomaster, Superbus Von Underduk. His Excellency stooped to take it
up. But the aeronaut, still greatly discomposed, and having
apparently no farther business to detain him in Rotterdam, began at
this moment to make busy preparations for departure; and it being
necessary to discharge a portion of ballast to enable him to
reascend, the half dozen bags which he threw out, one after another,
without taking the trouble to empty their contents, tumbled, every
one of them, most unfortunately upon the back of the burgomaster, and
rolled him over and over no less than one-and-twenty times, in the
face of every man in Rotterdam. It is not to be supposed, however,
that the great Underduk suffered this impertinence on the part of the
little old man to pass off with impunity. It is said, on the
contrary, that during each and every one of his one-and twenty
circumvolutions he emitted no less than one-and-twenty distinct and
furious whiffs from his pipe, to which he held fast the whole time
with all his might, and to which he intends holding fast until the
day of his death.

In the meantime the balloon arose like a lark, and, soaring far away
above the city, at length drifted quietly behind a cloud similar to
that from which it had so oddly emerged, and was thus lost forever to
the wondering eyes of the good citizens of Rotterdam. All attention
was now directed to the letter, the descent of which, and the
consequences attending thereupon, had proved so fatally subversive of
both person and personal dignity to his Excellency, the illustrious
Burgomaster Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk. That functionary, however,
had not failed, during his circumgyratory movements, to bestow a
thought upon the important subject of securing the packet in
question, which was seen, upon inspection, to have fallen into the
most proper hands, being actually addressed to himself and Professor
Rub-a-dub, in their official capacities of President and
Vice-President of the Rotterdam College of Astronomy. It was
accordingly opened by those dignitaries upon the spot, and found to
contain the following extraordinary, and indeed very serious,
communications.

To their Excellencies Von Underduk and Rub-a-dub, President and
Vice-President of the States' College of Astronomers, in the city of
Rotterdam.

"Your Excellencies may perhaps be able to remember an humble artizan,
by name Hans Pfaall, and by occupation a mender of bellows, who, with
three others, disappeared from Rotterdam, about five years ago, in a
manner which must have been considered by all parties at once sudden,
and extremely unaccountable. If, however, it so please your
Excellencies, I, the writer of this communication, am the identical
Hans Pfaall himself. It is well known to most of my fellow citizens,
that for the period of forty years I continued to occupy the little
square brick building, at the head of the alley called Sauerkraut, in
which I resided at the time of my disappearance. My ancestors have
also resided therein time out of mind -- they, as well as myself,
steadily following the respectable and indeed lucrative profession of
mending of bellows. For, to speak the truth, until of late years,
that the heads of all the people have been set agog with politics, no
better business than my own could an honest citizen of Rotterdam
either desire or deserve. Credit was good, employment was never
wanting, and on all hands there was no lack of either money or
good-will. But, as I was saying, we soon began to feel the effects of
liberty and long speeches, and radicalism, and all that sort of
thing. People who were formerly, the very best customers in the
world, had now not a moment of time to think of us at all. They had,
so they said, as much as they could do to read about the revolutions,
and keep up with the march of intellect and the spirit of the age. If
a fire wanted fanning, it could readily be fanned with a newspaper,

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

the pump of the condenser had supplied the place of the atmosphere
ejected. For the sake of experiment I had put the cat and kittens in
a small basket, and suspended it outside the car to a button at the
bottom, close by the valve, through which I could feed them at any
moment when necessary. I did this at some little risk, and before
closing the mouth of the chamber, by reaching under the car with one
of the poles before mentioned to which a hook had been attached.

"By the time I had fully completed these arrangements and filled the
chamber as explained, it wanted only ten minutes of nine o'clock.
During the whole period of my being thus employed, I endured the most
terrible distress from difficulty of respiration, and bitterly did I
repent the negligence or rather fool-hardiness, of which I had been
guilty, of putting off to the last moment a matter of so much
importance. But having at length accomplished it, I soon began to
reap the benefit of my invention. Once again I breathed with perfect
freedom and ease -- and indeed why should I not? I was also agreeably
surprised to find myself, in a great measure, relieved from the
violent pains which had hitherto tormented me. A slight headache,
accompanied with a sensation of fulness or distention about the
wrists, the ankles, and the throat, was nearly all of which I had now
to complain. Thus it seemed evident that a greater part of the
uneasiness attending the removal of atmospheric pressure had actually
worn off, as I had expected, and that much of the pain endured for
the last two hours should have been attributed altogether to the
effects of a deficient respiration.

"At twenty minutes before nine o'clock -- that is to say, a short
time prior to my closing up the mouth of the chamber, the mercury
attained its limit, or ran down, in the barometer, which, as I
mentioned before, was one of an extended construction. It then
indicated an altitude on my part of 132,000 feet, or five-and-twenty
miles, and I consequently surveyed at that time an extent of the
earth's area amounting to no less than the three
hundred-and-twentieth part of its entire superficies. At nine o'clock
I had again lost sight of land to the eastward, but not before I
became aware that the balloon was drifting rapidly to the N. N. W.
The convexity of the ocean beneath me was very evident indeed,
although my view was often interrupted by the masses of cloud which
floated to and fro. I observed now that even the lightest vapors
never rose to more than ten miles above the level of the sea.

"At half past nine I tried the experiment of throwing out a handful
of feathers through the valve. They did not float as I had expected;
but dropped down perpendicularly, like a bullet, en masse, and with
the greatest velocity -- being out of sight in a very few seconds. I
did not at first know what to make of this extraordinary phenomenon;
not being able to believe that my rate of ascent had, of a sudden,
met with so prodigious an acceleration. But it soon occurred to me
that the atmosphere was now far too rare to sustain even the
feathers; that they actually fell, as they appeared to do, with great
rapidity; and that I had been surprised by the united velocities of
their descent and my own elevation.

"By ten o'clock I found that I had very little to occupy my immediate
attention. Affairs went swimmingly, and I believed the balloon to be
going upward with a speed increasing momently although I had no
longer any means of ascertaining the progression of the increase. I
suffered no pain or uneasiness of any kind, and enjoyed better
spirits than I had at any period since my departure from Rotterdam,
busying myself now in examining the state of my various apparatus,
and now in regenerating the atmosphere within the chamber. This
latter point I determined to attend to at regular intervals of forty
minutes, more on account of the preservation of my health, than from
so frequent a renovation being absolutely necessary. In the meanwhile
I could not help making anticipations. Fancy revelled in the wild and
dreamy regions of the moon. Imagination, feeling herself for once
unshackled, roamed at will among the ever-changing wonders of a
shadowy and unstable land. Now there were boary and time-honored
forests, and craggy precipices, and waterfalls tumbling with a loud
noise into abysses without a bottom. Then I came suddenly into still
noonday solitudes, where no wind of heaven ever intruded, and where
vast meadows of poppies, and slender, lily-looking flowers spread
themselves out a weary distance, all silent and motionless forever.
Then again I journeyed far down away into another country where it
was all one dim and vague lake, with a boundary line of clouds. And
out of this melancholy water arose a forest of tall eastern trees,
like a wilderness of dreams. And I have in mind that the shadows of
the trees which fell upon the lake remained not on the surface where
they fell, but sunk slowly and steadily down, and commingled with the
waves, while from the trunks of the trees other shadows were
continually coming out, and taking the place of their brothers thus
entombed. "This then," I said thoughtfully, "is the very reason why
the waters of this lake grow blacker with age, and more melancholy as
the hours run on." But fancies such as these were not the sole
possessors of my brain. Horrors of a nature most stern and most
appalling would too frequently obtrude themselves upon my mind, and
shake the innermost depths of my soul with the bare supposition of
their possibility. Yet I would not suffer my thoughts for any length
of time to dwell upon these latter speculations, rightly judging the
real and palpable dangers of the voyage sufficient for my undivided
attention.

"At five o'clock, p.m., being engaged in regenerating the atmosphere
within the chamber, I took that opportunity of observing the cat and
kittens through the valve. The cat herself appeared to suffer again
very much, and I had no hesitation in attributing her uneasiness
chiefly to a difficulty in breathing; but my experiment with the
kittens had resulted very strangely. I had expected, of course, to
see them betray a sense of pain, although in a less degree than their
mother, and this would have been sufficient to confirm my opinion
concerning the habitual endurance of atmospheric pressure. But I was
not prepared to find them, upon close examination, evidently enjoying
a high degree of health, breathing with the greatest ease and perfect
regularity, and evincing not the slightest sign of any uneasiness
whatever. I could only account for all this by extending my theory,
and supposing that the highly rarefied atmosphere around might
perhaps not be, as I had taken for granted, chemically insufficient
for the purposes of life, and that a person born in such a medium
might, possibly, be unaware of any inconvenience attending its
inhalation, while, upon removal to the denser strata near the earth,
he might endure tortures of a similar nature to those I had so lately
experienced. It has since been to me a matter of deep regret that an
awkward accident, at this time, occasioned me the loss of my little
family of cats, and deprived me of the insight into this matter which
a continued experiment might have afforded. In passing my hand
through the valve, with a cup of water for the old puss, the sleeves
of my shirt became entangled in the loop which sustained the basket,
and thus, in a moment, loosened it from the bottom. Had the whole
actually vanished into air, it could not have shot from my sight in a
more abrupt and instantaneous manner. Positively, there could not

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

and subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat. At
first, the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in
the skull; but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became
visible, at the corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot
in which the death's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at
first supposed to be a goat. A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me
that it was intended for a kid."

    "Ha! ha!" said I, "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you - a
million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth - but
you are not about to establish a third link in your chain - you will
not find any especial connexion between your pirates and a goat -
pirates, you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to
the farming interest."

    "But I have just said that the figure was not that of a goat."

    "Well, a kid then - pretty much the same thing."

    "Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand. "You may have
heard of one Captain Kidd. I at once looked upon the figure of the
animal as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature. I say
signature; because its position upon the vellum suggested this idea.
The death's-head at the corner diagonally opposite, had, in the same
manner, the air of a stamp, or seal. But I was sorely put out by the
absence of all else - of the body to my imagined instrument - of the
text for my context."

    "I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and
the signature."

    "Something of that kind. The fact is, I felt irresistibly
impressed with a presentiment of some vast good fortune impending. I
can scarcely say why. Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than
an actual belief; - but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about
the bug being of solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy?
And then the series of accidents and coincidences - these were so
very extraordinary. Do you observe how mere an accident it was that
these events should have occurred upon the sole day of all the year
in which it has been, or may be, sufficiently cool for fire, and that
without the fire, or without the intervention of the dog at the
precise moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware
of the death's-head, and so never the possessor of the treasure?"

    "But proceed - I am all impatience."

    "Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current - the
thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the
Atlantic coast, by Kidd and his associates. These rumors must have
had some foundation in fact. And that the rumors have existed so long
and so continuous, could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from
the circumstance of the buried treasure still remaining entombed. Had
Kidd concealed his plunder for a time, and afterwards reclaimed it,
the rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying
form. You will observe that the stories told are all about
money-seekers, not about money-finders. Had the pirate recovered his
money, there the affair would have dropped. It seemed to me that some
accident - say the loss of a memorandum indicating its locality - had
deprived him of the means of recovering it, and that this accident
had become known to his followers, who otherwise might never have
heard that treasure had been concealed at all, and who, busying
themselves in vain, because unguided attempts, to regain it, had
given first birth, and then universal currency, to the reports which
are now so common. Have you ever heard of any important treasure
being unearthed along the coast?"

    "Never."

    "But that Kidd's accumulations were immense, is well known. I
took it for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and
you will scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope,
nearly amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found,
involved a lost record of the place of deposit."

    "But how did you proceed?"

    "I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat;
but nothing appeared. I now thought it possible that the coating of
dirt might have something to do with the failure; so I carefully
rinsed the parchment by pouring warm water over it, and,
having done this, I placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downwards,
and put the pan upon a furnace of lighted charcoal. In a few minutes,
the pan having become thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to
my inexpressible joy, found it spotted, in several places, with what
appeared to be figures arranged in lines. Again I placed it in the
pan, and suffered it to remain another minute. Upon taking it off,
the whole was just as you see it now." Here Legrand, having re-heated
the parchment, submitted it to my inspection. The following
characters were rudely traced, in a red tint, between the
death's-head and the goat:

"53‡‡†305))6*;4826)4‡)4‡;806*;48‡8¶60))85;1-(;:*8-83(88)5*‡

;46(;88*96*?;8)*‡(;485);5*†2:*‡(;4956*2(5*- 4)8¶8*;40692

85);)6†8)4;1(‡9;48081;8:8‡1;48†85;4)485†528806*81(‡9;48;

(88;4(‡?34;48)4‡;161;:188;‡?;"

    "But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark
as ever. Were all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution
of this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn
them."

    "And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so
difficult as you might be lead to imagine from the first hasty
inspection of the characters. These characters, as any one might
readily guess, form a cipher - that is to say, they convey a meaning;
but then, from what is known of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable
of constructing any of the more abstruse cryptographs. I made up my
mind, at once, that this was of a simple species - such, however, as
would appear, to the crude intellect of the sailor, absolutely
insoluble without the key."

    "And you really solved it?"

    "Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand
times greater. Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me
to take interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether
human ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human
ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve. In fact, having

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

    "All this," I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although
ingenious, still simple and explicit. When you left the Bishop's
Hotel, what then?"

    "Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned
homewards. The instant that I left 'the devil's seat,' however, the
circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterwards,
turn as I would. What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole
business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it is
a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no
other attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge
upon the face of the rock.

    "In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attended
by Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, the
abstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me
alone. But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to
give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree.
After much toil I found it. When I came home at night my valet
proposed to give me a flogging. With the rest of the adventure I
believe you are as well acquainted as myself."

    "I suppose," said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt
at digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall
through the right instead of through the left eye of the skull."

    "Precisely. This mistake made a difference of about two inches
and a half in the 'shot' - that is to say, in the position of the peg
nearest the tree; and had the treasure been beneath the 'shot,' the
error would have been of little moment; but 'the shot,' together with
the nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the
establishment of a line of direction; of course the error, however
trivial in the beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line,
and by the time we had gone fifty feet, threw us quite off the scent.
But for my deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere
actually buried, we might have had all our labor in vain."

    "But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle
- how excessively odd! I was sure you were mad. And why did you
insist upon letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the
skull?"

    "Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident
suspicions touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly,
in my own way, by a little bit of sober mystification. For this
reason I swung the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall it from
the tree. An observation of yours about its great weight suggested
the latter idea."

    "Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles
me. What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?"

    "That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself.
There seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them -
and yet it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion
would imply. It is clear that Kidd - if Kidd indeed secreted this
treasure, which I doubt not - it is clear that he must have had
assistance in the labor. But this labor concluded, he may have
thought it expedient to remove all participants in his secret.
Perhaps a couple of blows with a mattock were sufficient, while his
coadjutors were busy in the pit; perhaps it required a dozen - who
shall tell?"

_

_

~~~ End of Text ~~~

==========


                          FOUR BEASTS IN ONE

                        THE HOMO-CAMELEOPARD

                         Chacun a ses vertus.
                            --_Crebillon's Xerxes._

ANTIOCHUS EPIPHANES is very generally looked upon as the Gog of the
prophet Ezekiel. This honor is, however, more properly attributable
to Cambyses, the son of Cyrus. And, indeed, the character of the
Syrian monarch does by no means stand in need of any adventitious
embellishment. His accession to the throne, or rather his usurpation
of the sovereignty, a hundred and seventy-one years before the coming
of Christ; his attempt to plunder the temple of Diana at Ephesus; his
implacable hostility to the Jews; his pollution of the Holy of
Holies; and his miserable death at Taba, after a tumultuous reign of
eleven years, are circumstances of a prominent kind, and therefore
more generally noticed by the historians of his time than the
impious, dastardly, cruel, silly, and whimsical achievements which
make up the sum total of his private life and reputation.

Let us suppose, gentle reader, that it is now the year of the world
three thousand eight hundred and thirty, and let us, for a few
minutes, imagine ourselves at that most grotesque habitation of man,
the remarkable city of Antioch. To be sure there were, in Syria and
other countries, sixteen cities of that appellation, besides the one
to which I more particularly allude. But ours is that which went by
the name of Antiochia Epidaphne, from its vicinity to the little
village of Daphne, where stood a temple to that divinity. It was
built (although about this matter there is some dispute) by Seleucus
Nicanor, the first king of the country after Alexander the Great, in
memory of his father Antiochus, and became immediately the residence
of the Syrian monarchy. In the flourishing times of the Roman Empire,
it was the ordinary station of the prefect of the eastern provinces;
and many of the emperors of the queen city (among whom may be
mentioned, especially, Verus and Valens) spent here the greater part
of their time. But I perceive we have arrived at the city itself. Let
us ascend this battlement, and throw our eyes upon the town and
neighboring country.

"What broad and rapid river is that which forces its way, with
innumerable falls, through the mountainous wilderness, and finally
through the wilderness of buildings?"

That is the Orontes, and it is the only water in sight, with the
exception of the Mediterranean, which stretches, like a broad mirror,
about twelve miles off to the southward. Every one has seen the
Mediterranean; but let me tell you, there are few who have had a peep
at Antioch. By few, I mean, few who, like you and me, have had, at

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

just finished putting to death, with his own hand, a thousand chained
Israelitish prisoners! For this exploit the ragamuffin is lauding him
to the skies. Hark! here comes a troop of a similar description. They
have made a Latin hymn upon the valor of the king, and are singing it
as they go:

Mille, mille, mille,

Mille, mille, mille,

Decollavimus, unus homo!

Mille, mille, mille, mille, decollavimus!

Mille, mille, mille,

Vivat qui mille mille occidit!

Tantum vini habet nemo

Quantum sanguinis effudit!{*1}

Which may be thus paraphrased:

A thousand, a thousand, a thousand,

A thousand, a thousand, a thousand,

We, with one warrior, have slain!

A thousand, a thousand, a thousand, a thousand.

Sing a thousand over again!

Soho! -- let us sing

Long life to our king,

Who knocked over a thousand so fine!

Soho! -- let us roar,

He has given us more

Red gallons of gore

Than all Syria can furnish of wine!

"Do you hear that flourish of trumpets?"

Yes: the king is coming! See! the people are aghast with admiration,
and lift up their eyes to the heavens in reverence. He comes; -- he
is coming; -- there he is!

"Who? -- where? -- the king? -- do not behold him -- cannot say that
I perceive him."

Then you must be blind.

"Very possible. Still I see nothing but a tumultuous mob of idiots
and madmen, who are busy in prostrating themselves before a gigantic
cameleopard, and endeavoring to obtain a kiss of the animal's hoofs.
See! the beast has very justly kicked one of the rabble over -- and
another -- and another -- and another. Indeed, I cannot help admiring
the animal for the excellent use he is making of his feet."

Rabble, indeed! -- why these are the noble and free citizens of
Epidaphne! Beasts, did you say? -- take care that you are not
overheard. Do you not perceive that the animal has the visage of a
man? Why, my dear sir, that cameleopard is no other than Antiochus
Epiphanes, Antiochus the Illustrious, King of Syria, and the most
potent of all the autocrats of the East! It is true, that he is
entitled, at times, Antiochus Epimanes -- Antiochus the madman -- but
that is because all people have not the capacity to appreciate his
merits. It is also certain that he is at present ensconced in the
hide of a beast, and is doing his best to play the part of a
cameleopard; but this is done for the better sustaining his dignity
as king. Besides, the monarch is of gigantic stature, and the dress
is therefore neither unbecoming nor over large. We may, however,
presume he would not have adopted it but for some occasion of
especial state. Such, you will allow, is the massacre of a thousand
Jews. With how superior a dignity the monarch perambulates on all
fours! His tail, you perceive, is held aloft by his two principal
concubines, Elline and Argelais; and his whole appearance would be
infinitely prepossessing, were it not for the protuberance of his
eyes, which will certainly start out of his head, and the queer color
of his face, which has become nondescript from the quantity of wine
he has swallowed. Let us follow him to the hippodrome, whither he is
proceeding, and listen to the song of triumph which he is commencing:

Who is king but Epiphanes?

Say -- do you know?

Who is king but Epiphanes?

Bravo! -- bravo!

There is none but Epiphanes,

No -- there is none:

So tear down the temples,

And put out the sun!

Well and strenuously sung! The populace are hailing him 'Prince of
Poets,' as well as 'Glory of the East,' 'Delight of the Universe,'
and 'Most Remarkable of Cameleopards.' They have encored his
effusion, and do you hear? -- he is singing it over again. When he
arrives at the hippodrome, he will be crowned with the poetic wreath,
in anticipation of his victory at the approaching Olympics.

"But, good Jupiter! what is the matter in the crowd behind us?"

Behind us, did you say? -- oh! ah! -- I perceive. My friend, it is
well that you spoke in time. Let us get into a place of safety as
soon as possible. Here! -- let us conceal ourselves in the arch of
this aqueduct, and I will inform you presently of the origin of the
commotion. It has turned out as I have been anticipating. The
singular appearance of the cameleopard and the head of a man, has, it

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

This amounts to nothing; for most women find it proper to take a pair
of garters home and fit them to the size of the limbs they are to
encircle, rather than to try them in the store where they purchase.'
Here it is difficult to suppose the reasoner in earnest. Had M.
Beauvais, in his search for the body of Marie, discovered a corpse
corresponding in general size and appearance to the missing girl, he
would have been warranted (without reference to the question of
habiliment at all) in forming an opinion that his search had been
successful. If, in addition to the point of general size and contour,
he had found upon the arm a peculiar hairy appearance which he had
observed upon the living Marie, his opinion might have been justly
strengthened; and the increase of positiveness might well have been
in the ratio of the peculiarity, or unusualness, of the hairy mark.
If, the feet of Marie being small, those of the corpse were also
small, the increase of probability that the body was that of Marie
would not be an increase in a ratio merely arithmetical, but in one
highly geometrical, or accumulative. Add to all this shoes such as
she had been known to wear upon the day of her disappearance, and,
although these shoes may be 'sold in packages,' you so far augment
the probability as to verge upon the certain. What, of itself, would
be no evidence of identity, becomes through its corroborative
position, proof most sure. Give us, then, flowers in the hat
corresponding to those worn by the missing girl, and we seek for
nothing farther. If only one flower, we seek for nothing farther -
what then if two or three, or more? Each successive one is multiple
evidence - proof not _added_ to proof, but multiplied by hundreds or
thousands. Let us now discover, upon the deceased, garters such as
the living used, and it is almost folly to proceed. But these garters
are found to be tightened, by the setting back of a clasp, in just
such a manner as her own had been tightened by Marie, shortly
previous to her leaving home. It is now madness or hypocrisy to
doubt. What L'Etoile says in respect to this abbreviation of the
garter's being an usual occurrence, shows nothing beyond its own
pertinacity in error. The elastic nature of the clasp-garter is
self-demonstration of the unusualness of the abbreviation. What is
made to adjust itself, must of necessity require foreign adjustment
but rarely. It must have been by an accident, in its strictest sense,
that these garters of Marie needed the tightening described. They
alone would have amply established her identity. But it is not that
the corpse was found to have the garters of the missing girl, or
found to have her shoes, or her bonnet, or the flowers of her bonnet,
or her feet, or a peculiar mark upon the arm, or her general size and
appearance - it is that the corpse had each, and _all collectively_.
Could it be proved that the editor of L'Etoile _really_ entertained a
doubt, under the circumstances, there would be no need, in his case,
of a commission de lunatico inquirendo. He has thought it sagacious
to echo the small talk of the lawyers, who, for the most part,
content themselves with echoing the rectangular precepts of the
courts. I would here observe that very much of what is rejected as
evidence by a court, is the best of evidence to the intellect. For
the court, guiding itself by the general principles of evidence - the
recognized and _booked_ principles - is averse from swerving at
particular instances. And this steadfast adherence to principle, with
rigorous disregard of the conflicting exception, is a sure mode of
attaining the maximum of attainable truth, in any long sequence of
time. The practice, in mass, is therefore philosophical; but it is
not the less certain that it engenders vast individual error. {*16}

"In respect to the insinuations levelled at Beauvais, you will be
willing to dismiss them in a breath. You have already fathomed the
true character of this good gentleman. He is a busy-body, with much
of romance and little of wit. Any one so constituted will readily so
conduct himself, upon occasion of real excitement, as to render
himself liable to suspicion on the part of the over acute, or the
ill- disposed. M. Beauvais (as it appears from your notes) had some
personal interviews with the editor of L'Etoile, and offended him by
venturing an opinion that the corpse, notwithstanding the theory of
the editor, was, in sober fact, that of Marie. 'He persists,' says
the paper, 'in asserting the corpse to be that of Marie, but cannot
give a circumstance, in addition to those which we have commented
upon, to make others believe.' Now, without re-adverting to the fact
that stronger evidence 'to make others believe,' could never have
been adduced, it may be remarked that a man may very well be
understood to believe, in a case of this kind, without the ability to
advance a single reason for the belief of a second party. Nothing is
more vague than impressions of individual identity. Each man
recognizes his neighbor, yet there are few instances in which any one
is prepared to give a reason for his recognition. The editor of
L'Etoile had no right to be offended at M. Beauvais' unreasoning
belief.

"The suspicious circumstances which invest him, will be found to
tally much better with my hypothesis of romantic busy-bodyism, than
with the reasoner's suggestion of guilt. Once adopting the more
charitable interpretation, we shall find no difficulty in
comprehending the rose in the key-hole; the 'Marie' upon the slate;
the 'elbowing the male relatives out of the way;' the 'aversion to
permitting them to see the body;' the caution given to Madame B----,
that she must hold no conversation with the gendarme until his return
(Beauvais'); and, lastly, his apparent determination 'that nobody
should have anything to do with the proceedings except himself.' It
seems to me unquestionable that Beauvais was a suitor of Marie's;
that she coquetted with him; and that he was ambitious of being
thought to enjoy her fullest intimacy and confidence. I shall say
nothing more upon this point; and, as the evidence fully rebuts the
assertion of L'Etoile, touching the matter of apathy on the part of
the mother and other relatives - an apathy inconsistent with the
supposition of their believing the corpse to be that of the
perfumery- girl - we shall now proceed as if the question of identity
were settled to our perfect satisfaction."

"And what," I here demanded, "do you think of the opinions of Le
Commerciel?"

"That, in spirit, they are far more worthy of attention than any
which have been promulgated upon the subject. The deductions from the
premises are philosophical and acute; but the premises, in two
instances, at least, are founded in imperfect observation. Le
Commerciel wishes to intimate that Marie was seized by some gang of
low ruffians not far from her mother's door. 'It is impossible,' it
urges, 'that a person so well known to thousands as this young woman
was, should have passed three blocks without some one having seen
her.' This is the idea of a man long resident in Paris - a public man
- and one whose walks to and fro in the city, have been mostly
limited to the vicinity of the public offices. He is aware that he
seldom passes so far as a dozen blocks from his own bureau, without
being recognized and accosted. And, knowing the extent of his
personal acquaintance with others, and of others with him, he
compares his notoriety with that of the perfumery-girl, finds no
great difference between them, and reaches at once the conclusion
that she, in her walks, would be equally liable to recognition with
himself in his. This could only be the case were her walks of the
same unvarying, methodical character, and within the same species of
limited region as are his own. He passes to and fro, at regular
intervals, within a confined periphery, abounding in individuals who
are led to observation of his person through interest in the kindred
nature of his occupation with their own. But the walks of Marie may,
in general, be supposed discursive. In this particular instance, it
will be understood as most probable, that she proceeded upon a route
of more than average diversity from her accustomed ones. The parallel
which we imagine to have existed in the mind of Le Commerciel would
only be sustained in the event of the two individuals' traversing the
whole city. In this case, granting the personal acquaintances to be
equal, the chances would be also equal that an equal number of
personal rencounters would be made. For my own part, I should hold it
not only as possible, but as very far more than probable, that Marie
might have proceeded, at any given period, by any one of the many
routes between her own residence and that of her aunt, without
meeting a single individual whom she knew, or by whom she was known.
In viewing this question in its full and proper light, we must hold
steadily in mind the great disproportion between the personal
acquaintances of even the most noted individual in Paris, and the
entire population of Paris itself.

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

both hands (which were encased in gloves that afterwards turned out
to be asbestic), and threw the contents on the tiled floor. It was
now that they hand-cuffed him; and before proceeding to ransack the
premises they searched his person, but nothing unusual was found
about him, excepting a paper parcel, in his coat-pocket, containing
what was afterward ascertained to be a mixture of antimony and some
unknown substance, in nearly, but not quite, equal proportions. All
attempts at analyzing the unknown substance have, so far, failed, but
that it will ultimately be analyzed, is not to be doubted.

Passing out of the closet with their prisoner, the officers went
through a sort of ante-chamber, in which nothing material was found,
to the chemist's sleeping-room. They here rummaged some drawers and
boxes, but discovered only a few papers, of no importance, and some
good coin, silver and gold. At length, looking under the bed, they
saw a large, common hair trunk, without hinges, hasp, or lock, and
with the top lying carelessly across the bottom portion. Upon
attempting to draw this trunk out from under the bed, they found
that, with their united strength (there were three of them, all
powerful men), they 'could not stir it one inch.' Much astonished at
this, one of them crawled under the bed, and looking into the trunk,
said:

'No wonder we couldn't move it -- why it's full to the brim of old
bits of brass!'

Putting his feet, now, against the wall so as to get a good purchase,
and pushing with all his force, while his companions pulled with an
theirs, the trunk, with much difficulty, was slid out from under the
bed, and its contents examined. The supposed brass with which it was
filled was all in small, smooth pieces, varying from the size of a
pea to that of a dollar; but the pieces were irregular in shape,
although more or less flat-looking, upon the whole, 'very much as
lead looks when thrown upon the ground in a molten state, and there
suffered to grow cool.' Now, not one of these officers for a moment
suspected this metal to be any thing but brass. The idea of its being
gold never entered their brains, of course; how could such a wild
fancy have entered it? And their astonishment may be well conceived,
when the next day it became known, all over Bremen, that the 'lot of
brass' which they had carted so contemptuously to the police office,
without putting themselves to the trouble of pocketing the smallest
scrap, was not only gold -- real gold -- but gold far finer than any
employed in coinage-gold, in fact, absolutely pure, virgin, without
the slightest appreciable alloy.

I need not go over the details of Von Kempelen's confession (as far
as it went) and release, for these are familiar to the public. That
he has actually realized, in spirit and in effect, if not to the
letter, the old chimaera of the philosopher's stone, no sane person
is at liberty to doubt. The opinions of Arago are, of course,
entitled to the greatest consideration; but he is by no means
infallible; and what he says of bismuth, in his report to the
Academy, must be taken cum grano salis. The simple truth is, that up
to this period all analysis has failed; and until Von Kempelen
chooses to let us have the key to his own published enigma, it is
more than probable that the matter will remain, for years, in statu
quo. All that as yet can fairly be said to be known is, that 'Pure
gold can be made at will, and very readily from lead in connection
with certain other substances, in kind and in proportions, unknown.'

Speculation, of course, is busy as to the immediate and ultimate
results of this discovery -- a discovery which few thinking persons
will hesitate in referring to an increased interest in the matter of
gold generally, by the late developments in California; and this
reflection brings us inevitably to another -- the exceeding
inopportuneness of Von Kempelen's analysis. If many were prevented
from adventuring to California, by the mere apprehension that gold
would so materially diminish in value, on account of its
plentifulness in the mines there, as to render the speculation of
going so far in search of it a doubtful one -- what impression will
be wrought now, upon the minds of those about to emigrate, and
especially upon the minds of those actually in the mineral region, by
the announcement of this astounding discovery of Von Kempelen? a
discovery which declares, in so many words, that beyond its intrinsic
worth for manufacturing purposes (whatever that worth may be), gold
now is, or at least soon will be (for it cannot be supposed that Von
Kempelen can long retain his secret), of no greater value than lead,
and of far inferior value to silver. It is, indeed, exceedingly
difficult to speculate prospectively upon the consequences of the
discovery, but one thing may be positively maintained -- that the
announcement of the discovery six months ago would have had material
influence in regard to the settlement of California.

In Europe, as yet, the most noticeable results have been a rise of
two hundred per cent. in the price of lead, and nearly twenty-five
per cent. that of silver.

~~~ End of Text ~~~

======

MESMERIC REVELATION

     WHATEVER doubt may still envelop the _rationale_ of mesmerism,
its startling _facts_ are now almost universally admitted.  Of these
latter, those who doubt, are your mere doubters by profession - an
unprofitable and disreputable tribe.  There can be no more absolute
waste of time than the attempt to _prove_, at the present day, that
man, by mere exercise of will, can so impress his fellow, as to cast
him into an abnormal condition, of which the phenomena resemble very
closely those of _death_, or at least resemble them more nearly than
they do the phenomena of any other normal condition within our
cognizance;  that, while in this state, the person so impressed
employs only with effort, and then feebly, the external organs of
sense, yet perceives, with keenly refined perception, and through
channels supposed unknown, matters beyond the scope of the physical
organs;  that, moreover, his intellectual faculties are wonderfully
exalted and invigorated;  that his sympathies with the person so
impressing him are profound;  and, finally, that his susceptibility
to the impression increases with its frequency, while, in the same
proportion, the peculiar phenomena elicited are more extended and
more _pronounced_.

     I say that these - which are the laws of mesmerism in its
general features - it would be supererogation to demonstrate;  nor
shall I inflict upon my readers so needless a demonstration;
to-day.  My purpose at present is a very different one indeed.  I am
impelled, even in the teeth of a world of prejudice, to detail
without comment the very remarkable substance of a colloquy,
occurring between a sleep-waker and myself.

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

condition, it is not impossible that man, the individual, under
certain unusual and highly fortuitous conditions, may be happy.

With opinions such as these my young friend, too, was fully imbued,
and thus it is worthy of observation that the uninterrupted enjoyment
which distinguished his life was, in great measure, 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 success of his life, into the common vortex of
unhappiness which yawns for those of pre-eminent endowments. But it
is by no means my object to pen an essay on happiness. The ideas of
my friend may be summed up in a few words. He admitted but four
elementary principles, or more strictly, conditions 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 is scarcely worth the name." He instanced
the ecstasies of the fox-hunter, and pointed to the tillers of the
earth, the only people who, as a class, can be fairly considered
happier than others. His second condition was the love of woman. His
third, and most difficult of realization, was the contempt of
ambition. His fourth was an object of unceasing pursuit; and he held
that, other things being equal, the extent of attainable happiness
was in proportion to the spirituality of this object.

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
acquisition of knowledge is less a labor than an intuition and a
necessity. 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 on the attainment of his
majority, 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
moral constitution of those who are their objects.

It appears that about a hundred years before Mr. Ellison's coming of
age, there had died, in a remote province, one Mr. Seabright Ellison.
This gentleman had amassed a princely fortune, and, having no
immediate connections, 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 of
Ellison, who should be alive at the end of the hundred years. Many
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 legislative act finally
obtained, forbidding all similar accumulations. This act, however,
did not prevent young Ellison from entering into possession, on his
twenty-first birthday, as the heir of his ancestor Seabright, of a
fortune of four hundred and fifty millions of dollars. {*1}

When it had become known that such was the enormous wealth inherited,
there were, of course, many speculations as to the mode of its
disposal. The magnitude and the immediate availability of the sum
bewildered all who thought on 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 intrigue -- or aiming at ministerial power --
or purchasing increase of nobility -- or collecting large museums of
virtu -- or playing the munificent patron of letters, of science, of
art -- or endowing, and bestowing his name upon extensive
institutions of charity. But for the inconceivable wealth in the
actual possession of the heir, these objects and all ordinary objects
were felt to afford too limited a field. Recourse was had to figures,
and these 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 of at least one-half of his fortune, as of utterly
superfluous opulence -- enriching whole troops of his relatives by
division of his superabundance. To the nearest of these he did, in
fact, abandon the very unusual wealth which was his own before the
inheritance.

I was not surprised, however, to perceive that he had long made up
his mind on a point which had occasioned so much discussion to his
friends. Nor was I greatly astonished at the nature of his decision.
In regard to individual charities he had satisfied his conscience. In
the possibility of any improvement, properly so called, being
effected by man himself in the general condition of man, he had (I am
sorry to confess it) little faith. Upon the whole, whether happily or
unhappily, he was thrown back, in very great measure, upon self.

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 fullest, if not the sole
proper satisfaction of this 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 all his ethical speculations; and it
was this bias, perhaps, which led him to believe that the most
advantageous at least, if not the sole legitimate field for the
poetic exercise, lies in the creation of novel moods of purely
physical loveliness. Thus it happened he became neither musician nor
poet -- if we use this latter term in its every-day acceptation. Or
it might have been that he neglected to become either, merely in
pursuance of his idea that in contempt of ambition is to be found 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 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 that the world has never
seen -- and that, unless through some series of accidents goading the
noblest order of mind into distasteful exertion, the world will never
see -- that full extent of triumphant execution, in the richer
domains of art, of which the human nature is absolutely capable.

Ellison became neither musician nor poet; although no man lived more
profoundly enamored of music and poetry. Under other circumstances
than those which invested him, it is not impossible that he would
have become a painter. Sculpture, although in its nature rigorously
poetical was too limited in its extent and consequences, to have

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

of travel.

    In pursuance of my scheme of deception, I was necessarily obliged
to leave much to the management of Augustus, who was employed for the
greater part of every day on board the Grampus, attending to some
arrangements for his father in the cabin and cabin hold. At night,
however, we were sure to have a conference and talk over our hopes.
After nearly a month passed in this manner, without our hitting upon
any plan we thought likely to succeed, he told me at last that he had
determined upon everything necessary. I had a relation living in New
Bedford, a Mr. Ross, at whose house I was in the habit of spending
occasionally two or three weeks at a time. The brig was to sail about
the middle of June (June, 1827), and it was agreed that, a day or two
before her putting to sea, my father was to receive a note, as usual,
from Mr. Ross, asking me to come over and spend a fortnight with
Robert and Emmet (his sons). Augustus charged himself with the
inditing of this note and getting it delivered. Having set out as
supposed, for New Bedford, I was then to report myself to my
companion, who would contrive a hiding-place for me in the Grampus.
This hiding-place, he assured me, would be rendered sufficiently
comfortable for a residence of many days, during which I was not to
make my appearance. When the brig had proceeded so far on her course
as to make any turning back a matter out of question, I should then,
he said, be formally installed in all the comforts of the cabin; and
as to his father, he would only laugh heartily at the joke. Vessels
enough would be met with by which a letter might be sent home
explaining the adventure to my parents.

    The middle of June at length arrived, and every thing had been
matured. The note was written and delivered, and on a Monday morning
I left the house for the New Bedford packet, as supposed. I went,
however, straight to Augustus, who was waiting for me at the corner
of a street. It had been our original plan that I should keep out of
the way until dark, and then slip on board the brig; but, as there
was now a thick fog in our favor, it was agreed to lose no time in
secreting me. Augustus led the way to the wharf, and I followed at a
little distance, enveloped in a thick seaman's cloak, which he had
brought with him, so that my person might not be easily recognized.
just as we turned the second corner, after passing Mr. Edmund's well,
who should appear, standing right in front of me, and looking me full
in the face, but old Mr. Peterson, my grandfather. "Why, bless my
soul, Gordon," said he, after a long pause, "why, why,- whose dirty
cloak is that you have on?" "Sir!" I replied, assuming, as well as I
could, in the exigency of the moment, an air of offended surprise,
and talking in the gruffest of all imaginable tones- "sir! you are a
sum'mat mistaken- my name, in the first place, bee'nt nothing at all
like Goddin, and I'd want you for to know better, you blackguard,
than to call my new obercoat a darty one." For my life I could hardly
refrain from screaming with laughter at the odd manner in which the
old gentleman received this handsome rebuke. He started back two or
three steps, turned first pale and then excessively red, threw up his
spectacles, then, putting them down, ran full tilt at me, with his
umbrella uplifted. He stopped short, however, in his career, as if
struck with a sudden recollection; and presently, turning round,
hobbled off down the street, shaking all the while with rage, and
muttering between his teeth: "Won't do -- new glasses -- thought it
was Gordon --d--d good-for-nothing salt water Long Tom."

   After this narrow escape we proceeded with greater caution, and
arrived at our point of destination in safety. There were only one or
two of the hands on board, and these were busy forward, doing
something to the forecastle combings. Captain Barnard, we knew very
well, was engaged at Lloyd and Vredenburgh's, and would remain there
until late in the evening, so we had little to apprehend on his
account. Augustus went first up the vessel's side, and in a short
while I followed him, without being noticed by the men at work. We
proceeded at once into the cabin, and found no person there. It was
fitted up in the most comfortable style- a thing somewhat unusual in
a whaling-vessel. There were four very excellent staterooms, with
wide and convenient berths. There was also a large stove, I took
notice, and a remarkably thick and valuable carpet covering the floor
of both the cabin and staterooms. The ceiling was full seven feet
high, and, in short, every thing appeared of a more roomy and
agreeable nature than I had anticipated. Augustus, however, would
allow me but little time for observation, insisting upon the
necessity of my concealing myself as soon as possible. He led the way
into his own stateroom, which was on the starboard side of the brig,
and next to the bulkheads. Upon entering, he closed the door and
bolted it. I thought I had never seen a nicer little room than the
one in which I now found myself. It was about ten feet long, and had
only one berth, which, as I said before, was wide and convenient. In
that portion of the closet nearest the bulkheads there was a space of
four feet square, containing a table, a chair, and a set of hanging
shelves full of books, chiefly books of voyages and travels. There
were many other little comforts in the room, among which I ought not
to forget a kind of safe or refrigerator, in which Augustus pointed
out to me a host of delicacies, both in the eating and drinking
department.

    He now pressed with his knuckles upon a certain spot of the
carpet in one corner of the space just mentioned, letting me know
that a portion of the flooring, about sixteen inches square, had been
neatly cut out and again adjusted. As he pressed, this portion rose
up at one end sufficiently to allow the passage of his finger
beneath. In this manner he raised the mouth of the trap (to which the
carpet was still fastened by tacks), and I found that it led into the
after hold. He next lit a small taper by means of a phosphorous
match, and, placing the light in a dark lantern, descended with it
through the opening, bidding me follow. I did so, and he then pulled
the cover upon the hole, by means of a nail driven into the under
side--the carpet, of course, resuming its original position on the
floor of the stateroom, and all traces of the aperture being
concealed.

    The taper gave out so feeble a ray that it was with the greatest
difficulty I could grope my way through the confused mass of lumber
among which I now found myself. By degrees, however, my eyes became
accustomed to the gloom, and I proceeded with less trouble, holding
on to the skirts of my friend's coat. He brought me, at length, after
creeping and winding through innumerable narrow passages, to an
iron-bound box, such as is used sometimes for packing fine
earthenware. It was nearly four feet high, and full six long, but
very narrow. Two large empty oil-casks lay on the top of it, and
above these, again, a vast quantity of straw matting, piled up as
high as the floor of the cabin. In every other direction around was
wedged as closely as possible, even up to the ceiling, a complete
chaos of almost every species of ship-furniture, together with a
heterogeneous medley of crates, hampers, barrels, and bales, so that
it seemed a matter no less than miraculous that we had discovered any
passage at all to the box. I afterward found that Augustus had
purposely arranged the stowage in this hold with a view to affording

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

solitary and cheerless condition, I resolved to wait yet another
twenty-four hours, when, if no relief were obtained, I would make my
way to the trap, and endeavour either to hold a parley with my
friend, or get at least a little fresh air through the opening, and a
further supply of water from the stateroom. While occupied with this
thought, however, I fell in spite of every exertion to the contrary,
into a state of profound sleep, or rather stupor. My dreams were of
the most terrific description. Every species of calamity and horror
befell me. Among other miseries I was smothered to death between huge
pillows, by demons of the most ghastly and ferocious aspect. Immense
serpents held me in their embrace, and looked earnestly in my face
with their fearfully shining eyes. Then deserts, limitless, and of
the most forlorn and awe-inspiring character, spread themselves out
before me. Immensely tall trunks of trees, gray and leafless, rose up
in endless succession as far as the eye could reach. Their roots were
concealed in wide-spreading morasses, whose dreary water lay
intensely black, still, and altogether terrible, beneath. And the
strange trees seemed endowed with a human vitality, and waving to and
fro their skeleton arms, were crying to the silent waters for mercy,
in the shrill and piercing accents of the most acute agony and
despair. The scene changed; and I stood, naked and alone, amidst the
burning sand-plains of Sahara. At my feet lay crouched a fierce lion
of the tropics. Suddenly his wild eyes opened and fell upon me. With
a conculsive bound he sprang to his feet, and laid bare his horrible
teeth. In another instant there burst from his red throat a roar like
the thunder of the firmament, and I fell impetuously to the earth.
Stifling in a paroxysm of terror, I at last found myself partially
awake. My dream, then, was not all a dream. Now, at least, I was in
possession of my senses. The paws of some huge and real monster were
pressing heavily upon my bosom -- his hot breath was in my ear- and
his white and ghastly fangs were gleaming upon me through the gloom.

    Had a thousand lives hung upon the movement of a limb or the
utterance of a syllable, I could have neither stirred nor spoken. The
beast, whatever it was, retained his position without attempting any
immediate violence, while I lay in an utterly helpless, and, I
fancied, a dying condition beneath him. I felt that my powers of body
and mind were fast leaving me- in a word, that I was perishing, and
perishing of sheer fright. My brain swam -- I grew deadly sick -- my
vision failed -- even the glaring eyeballs above me grew dim. Making
a last strong effort, I at length breathed a faint ejaculation to
God, and resigned myself to die. The sound of my voice seemed to
arouse all the latent fury of the animal. He precipitated himself at
full length upon my body; but what was my astonishment, when, with a
long and low whine, he commenced licking my face and hands with the
greatest eagerness, and with the most extravagant demonstration of
affection and joy! I was bewildered, utterly lost in amazement- but I
could not forget the peculiar whine of my Newfoundland dog Tiger, and
the odd manner of his caresses I well knew. It was he. I experienced
a sudden rush of blood to my temples- a giddy and overpowering sense
of deliverance and reanimation. I rose hurriedly from the mattress
upon which I had been lying, and, throwing myself upon the neck of my
faithful follower and friend, relieved the long oppression of my
bosom in a flood of the most passionate tears.

    As upon a former occasion my conceptions were in a state of the
greatest indistinctness and confusion after leaving the mattress. For
a long time I found it nearly impossible to connect any ideas; but,
by very slow degrees, my thinking faculties returned, and I again
called to memory the several incidents of my condition. For the
presence of Tiger I tried in vain to account; and after busying
myself with a thousand different conjectures respecting him, was
forced to content myself with rejoicing that he was with me to share
my dreary solitude, and render me comfort by his caresses. Most
people love their dogs -- but for Tiger I had an affection far more
ardent than common; and never, certainly, did any creature more truly
deserve it. For seven years he had been my inseparable companion, and
in a multitude of instances had given evidence of all the noble
qualities for which we value the animal. I had rescued him, when a
puppy, from the clutches of a malignant little villain in Nantucket
who was leading him, with a rope around his neck, to the water; and
the grown dog repaid the obligation, about three years afterward, by
saving me from the bludgeon of a street robber.

    Getting now hold of the watch, I found, upon applying it to my
ear, that it had again run down; but at this I was not at all
surprised, being convinced, from the peculiar state of my feelings,
that I had slept, as before, for a very long period of time, how
long, it was of course impossible to say. I was burning up with
fever, and my thirst was almost intolerable. I felt about the box for
my little remaining supply of water, for I had no light, the taper
having burnt to the socket of the lantern, and the phosphorus-box not
coming readily to hand. Upon finding the jug, however, I discovered
it to be empty -- Tiger, no doubt, having been tempted to drink it,
as well as to devour the remnant of mutton, the bone of which lay,
well picked, by the opening of the box. The spoiled meat I could well
spare, but my heart sank as I thought of the water. I was feeble in
the extreme -- so much so that I shook all over, as with an ague, at
the slightest movement or exertion. To add to my troubles, the brig
was pitching and rolling with great violence, and the oil-casks which
lay upon my box were in momentary danger of falling down, so as to
block up the only way of ingress or egress. I felt, also, terrible
sufferings from sea-sickness. These considerations determined me to
make my way, at all hazards, to the trap, and obtain immediate
relief, before I should be incapacitated from doing so altogether.
Having come to this resolve, I again felt about for the
phosphorus-box and tapers. The former I found after some little
trouble; but, not discovering the tapers as soon as I had expected
(for I remembered very nearly the spot in which I had placed them), I
gave up the search for the present, and bidding Tiger lie quiet,
began at once my journey toward the trap.

    In this attempt my great feebleness became more than ever
apparent. It was with the utmost difficulty I could crawl along at
all, and very frequently my limbs sank suddenly from beneath me;
when, falling prostrate on my face, I would remain for some minutes
in a state bordering on insensibility. Still I struggled forward by
slow degrees, dreading every moment that I should swoon amid the
narrow and intricate windings of the lumber, in which event I had
nothing but death to expect as the result. At length, upon making a
push forward with all the energy I could command, I struck my
forehead violently against the sharp corner of an iron-bound crate.
The accident only stunned me for a few moments; but I found, to my
inexpressible grief, that the quick and violent roll of the vessel
had thrown the crate entirely across my path, so as effectually to
block up the passage. With my utmost exertions I could not move it a
single inch from its position, it being closely wedged in among the
surrounding boxes and ship-furniture. It became necessary, therefore,
enfeebled as I was, either to leave the guidance of the whipcord and
seek out a new passage, or to climb over the obstacle, and resume the
path on the other side. The former alternative presented too many

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

complete breach over us, and in five minutes our deck was swept from
stern to stern, the longboat and starboard bulwarks torn off, and
even the windlass shattered into fragments. It was, indeed, hardly
possible for us to be in a more pitiable condition.

    At noon there seemed to be some slight appearance of the gale's
abating, but in this we were sadly disappointed, for it only lulled
for a few minutes to blow with redoubled fury. About four in the
afternoon it was utterly impossible to stand up against the violence
of the blast; and, as the night closed in upon us, I had not a shadow
of hope that the vessel would hold together until morning.

    By midnight we had settled very deep in the water, which was now
up to the orlop deck. The rudder went soon afterward, the sea which
tore it away lifting the after portion of the brig entirely from the
water, against which she thumped in her descent with such a
concussion as would be occasioned by going ashore. We had all
calculated that the rudder would hold its own to the last, as it was
unusually strong, being rigged as I have never seen one rigged either
before or since. Down its main timber there ran a succession of stout
iron hooks, and others in the same manner down the stern-post.
Through these hooks there extended a very thick wrought-iron rod, the
rudder being thus held to the stern-post and swinging freely on the
rod. The tremendous force of the sea which tore it off may be
estimated by the fact, that the hooks in the stern-post, which ran
entirely through it, being clinched on the inside, were drawn every
one of them completely out of the solid wood.

    We had scarcely time to draw breath after the violence of this
shock, when one of the most tremendous waves I had then ever known
broke right on board of us, sweeping the companion-way clear off,
bursting in the hatchways, and filling every inch of the vessel with
water.

~~~ End of Text of Chapter 8 ~~~

CHAPTER 9



    LUCKILY, just before night, all four of us had lashed ourselves
firmly to the fragments of the windlass, lying in this manner as flat
upon the deck as possible. This precaution alone saved us from
destruction. As it was, we were all more or less stunned by the
immense weight of water which tumbled upon us, and which did not roll
from above us until we were nearly exhausted. As soon as I could
recover breath, I called aloud to my companions. Augustus alone
replied, saying: "It is all over with us, and may God have mercy upon
our souls!" By-and-by both the others were enabled to speak, when
they exhorted us to take courage, as there was still hope; it being
impossible, from the nature of the cargo, that the brig could go
down, and there being every chance that the gale would blow over by
the morning. These words inspired me with new life; for, strange as
it may seem, although it was obvious that a vessel with a cargo of
empty oil-casks would not sink, I had been hitherto so confused in
mind as to have overlooked this consideration altogether; and the
danger which I had for some time regarded as the most imminent was
that of foundering. As hope revived within me, I made use of every
opportunity to strengthen the lashings which held me to the remains
of the windlass, and in this occupation I soon discovered that my
companions were also busy. The night was as dark as it could possibly
be, and the horrible shrieking din and confusion which surrounded us
it is useless to attempt describing. Our deck lay level with the sea,
or rather we were encircled with a towering ridge of foam, a portion
of which swept over us even instant. It is not too much to say that
our heads were not fairly out of the water more than one second in
three. Although we lay close together, no one of us could see the
other, or, indeed, any portion of the brig itself, upon which we were
so tempestuously hurled about. At intervals we called one to the
other, thus endeavouring to keep alive hope, and render consolation
and encouragement to such of us as stood most in need of it. The
feeble condition of Augustus made him an object of solicitude with us
all; and as, from the lacerated condition of his right arm, it must
have been impossible for him to secure his lashings with any degree
of firmness, we were in momentary expectation of finding that he had
gone overboard -- yet to render him aid was a thing altogether out of
the question. Fortunately, his station was more secure than that of
any of the rest of us; for the upper part of his body lying just
beneath a portion of the shattered windlass, the seas, as they
tumbled in upon him, were greatly broken in their violence. In any
other situation than this (into which he had been accidentally thrown
after having lashed himself in a very exposed spot) he must
inevitably have perished before morning. Owing to the brig's lying so
much along, we were all less liable to be washed off than otherwise
would have been the case. The heel, as I have before stated, was to
larboard, about one half of the deck being constantly under water.
The seas, therefore, which struck us to starboard were much broken,
by the vessel's side, only reaching us in fragments as we lay flat on
our faces; while those which came from larboard being what are called
back-water seas, and obtaining little hold upon us on account of our
posture, had not sufficient force to drag us from our fastenings.

    In this frightful situation we lay until the day broke so as to
show us more fully the horrors which surrounded us. The brig was a
mere log, rolling about at the mercy of every wave; the gale was upon
the increase, if any thing, blowing indeed a complete hurricane, and
there appeared to us no earthly prospect of deliverance. For several
hours we held on in silence, expecting every moment that our lashings
would either give way, that the remains of the windlass would go by
the board, or that some of the huge seas, which roared in every
direction around us and above us, would drive the hulk so far beneath
the water that we should be drowned before it could regain the
surface. By the mercy of God, however, we were preserved from these
imminent dangers, and about midday were cheered by the light of the
blessed sun. Shortly afterward we could perceive a sensible
diminution in the force of the wind, when, now for the first time
since the latter part of the evening before, Augustus spoke, asking
Peters, who lay closest to him, if he thought there was any
possibility of our being saved. As no reply was at first made to this
question, we all concluded that the hybrid had been drowned where he
lay; but presently, to our great joy, he spoke, although very feebly,
saying that he was in great pain, being so cut by the tightness of
his lashings across the stomach, that he must either find means of
loosening them or perish, as it was impossible that he could endure
his misery much longer. This occasioned us great distress, as it was
altogether useless to think of aiding him in any manner while the sea
continued washing over us as it did. We exhorted him to bear his
sufferings with fortitude, and promised to seize the first
opportunity which should offer itself to relieve him. He replied that
it would soon be too late; that it would be all over with him before
we could help him; and then, after moaning for some minutes, lay

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

treated us so well. A very short while sufficed to prove that this
apparent kindness of disposition was only the result of a deeply laid
plan for our destruction, and that the islanders for whom we
entertained such inordinate feelings of esteem, were among the most
barbarous, subtle, and bloodthirsty wretches that ever contaminated
the face of the globe.

    It was on the first of February that we went on shore for the
purpose of visiting the village. Although, as said before, we
entertained not the slightest suspicion, still no proper precaution
was neglected. Six men were left in the schooner, with instructions
to permit none of the savages to approach the vessel during our
absence, under any pretence whatever, and to remain constantly on
deck. The boarding-nettings were up, the guns double-shotted with
grape and canister, and the swivels loaded with canisters of
musket-balls. She lay, with her anchor apeak, about a mile from the
shore, and no canoe could approach her in any direction without being
distinctly seen and exposed to the full fire of our swivels
immediately.

    The six men being left on board, our shore-party consisted of
thirty-two persons in all. We were armed to the teeth, having with
us muskets, pistols, and cutlasses; besides, each had a long kind of
seaman's knife, somewhat resembling the bowie knife now so much used
throughout our western and southern country. A hundred of the black
skin warriors met us at the landing for the purpose of accompanying
us on our way. We noticed, however, with some surprise, that they
were now entirely without arms; and, upon questioning Too-wit in
relation to this circumstance, he merely answered that _Mattee non we
pa pa si_ -- meaning that there was no need of arms where all were
brothers. We took this in good part, and proceeded.

    We had passed the spring and rivulet of which I before spoke, and
were now entering upon a narrow gorge leading through the chain of
soapstone hills among which the village was situated. This gorge was
very rocky and uneven, so much so that it was with no little
difficulty we scrambled through it on our first visit to Klock-klock.
The whole length of the ravine might have been a mile and a half, or
probably two miles. It wound in every possible direction through the
hills (having apparently formed, at some remote period, the bed of a
torrent), in no instance proceeding more than twenty yards without an
abrupt turn. The sides of this dell would have averaged, I am sure,
seventy or eighty feet in perpendicular altitude throughout the whole
of their extent, and in some portions they arose to an astonishing
height, overshadowing the pass so completely that but little of the
light of day could penetrate. The general width was about forty feet,
and occasionally it diminished so as not to allow the passage of more
than five or six persons abreast. In short, there could be no place
in the world better adapted for the consummation of an ambuscade, and
it was no more than natural that we should look carefully to our arms
as we entered upon it. When I now think of our egregious folly, the
chief subject of astonishment seems to be, that we should have ever
ventured, under any circumstances, so completely into the power of
unknown savages as to permit them to march both before and behind us
in our progress through this ravine. Yet such was the order we
blindly took up, trusting foolishly to the force of our party, the
unarmed condition of Too-wit and his men, the certain efficacy of our
firearms (whose effect was yet a secret to the natives), and, more
than all, to the long-sustained pretension of friendship kept up by
these infamous wretches. Five or six of them went on before, as if to
lead the way, ostentatiously busying themselves in removing the
larger stones and rubbish from the path. Next came our own party. We
walked closely together, taking care only to prevent separation.
Behind followed the main body of the savages, observing unusual order
and decorum.

    Dirk Peters, a man named Wilson Allen, and myself were on the
right of our companions, examining, as we went along, the singular
stratification of the precipice which overhung us. A fissure in the
soft rock attracted our attention. It was about wide enough for one
person to enter without squeezing, and extended back into the hill
some eighteen or twenty feet in a straight course, sloping afterward
to the left. The height of the opening, is far as we could see into
it from the main gorge, was perhaps sixty or seventy feet. There were
one or two stunted shrubs growing from the crevices, bearing a
species of filbert which I felt some curiosity to examine, and pushed
in briskly for that purpose, gathering five or six of the nuts at a
grasp, and then hastily retreating. As I turned, I found that Peters
and Allen had followed me. I desired them to go back, as there was
not room for two persons to pass, saying they should have some of my
nuts. They accordingly turned, and were scrambling back, Allen being
close to the mouth of the fissure, when I was suddenly aware of a
concussion resembling nothing I had ever before experienced, and
which impressed me with a vague conception, if indeed I then thought
of anything, that the whole foundations of the solid globe were
suddenly rent asunder, and that the day of universal dissolution was
at hand.

~~~ End of Text of Chapter 20 ~~~

CHAPTER 21



    AS soon as I could collect my scattered senses, I found myself
nearly suffocated, and grovelling in utter darkness among a quantity
of loose earth, which was also falling upon me heavily in every
direction, threatening to bury me entirely. Horribly alarmed at this
idea, I struggled to gain my feet, and at last succeeded. I then
remained motionless for some moments, endeavouring to conceive what
had happened to me, and where I was. Presently I heard a deep groan
just at my ear, and afterward the smothered voice of Peters calling
to me for aid in the name of God. I scrambled one or two paces
forward, when I fell directly over the head and shoulders of my
companion, who, I soon discovered, was buried in a loose mass of
earth as far as his middle, and struggling desperately to free
himself from the pressure. I tore the dirt from around him with all
the energy I could command, and at length succeeded in getting him
out.

    As soon as we sufficiently recovered from our fright and surprise
to be capable of conversing rationally, we both came to the
conclusion that the walls of the fissure in which we had ventured
had, by some convulsion of nature, or probably from their own weight,
caved in overhead, and that we were consequently lost for ever, being
thus entombed alive. For a long time we gave up supinely to the most
intense agony and despair, such as cannot be adequately imagined by
those who have never been in a similar position. I firmly believed
that no incident ever occurring in the course of human events is more
adapted to inspire the supremeness of mental and bodily distress than
a case like our own, of living inhumation. The blackness of darkness

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

traces of the electric fluid evident on the summit of the steeple of
the House of the Town-Council. I do not choose, however, to commit
myself on a theme of such importance, and must refer the reader
desirous of information to the "Oratiunculae de Rebus
Praeter-Veteris," of Dundergutz. See, also, Blunderbuzzard "De
Derivationibus," pp. 27 to 5010, Folio, Gothic edit., Red and Black
character, Catch-word and No Cypher; wherein consult, also, marginal
notes in the autograph of Stuffundpuff, with the Sub-Commentaries of
Gruntundguzzell.

Notwithstanding the obscurity which thus envelops the date of the
foundation of Vondervotteimittis, and the derivation of its name,
there can be no doubt, as I said before, that it has always existed
as we find it at this epoch. The oldest man in the borough can
remember not the slightest difference in the appearance of any
portion of it; and, indeed, the very suggestion of such a possibility
is considered an insult. The site of the village is in a perfectly
circular valley, about a quarter of a mile in circumference, and
entirely surrounded by gentle hills, over whose summit the people
have never yet ventured to pass. For this they assign the very good
reason that they do not believe there is anything at all on the other
side.

Round the skirts of the valley (which is quite level, and paved
throughout with flat tiles), extends a continuous row of sixty little
houses. These, having their backs on the hills, must look, of course,
to the centre of the plain, which is just sixty yards from the front
door of each dwelling. Every house has a small garden before it, with
a circular path, a sun-dial, and twenty-four cabbages. The buildings
themselves are so precisely alike, that one can in no manner be
distinguished from the other. Owing to the vast antiquity, the style
of architecture is somewhat odd, but it is not for that reason the
less strikingly picturesque. They are fashioned of hard-burned little
bricks, red, with black ends, so that the walls look like a
chess-board upon a great scale. The gables are turned to the front,
and there are cornices, as big as all the rest of the house, over the
eaves and over the main doors. The windows are narrow and deep, with
very tiny panes and a great deal of sash. On the roof is a vast
quantity of tiles with long curly ears. The woodwork, throughout, is
of a dark hue and there is much carving about it, with but a trifling
variety of pattern for, time out of mind, the carvers of
Vondervotteimittiss have never been able to carve more than two
objects -- a time-piece and a cabbage. But these they do exceedingly
well, and intersperse them, with singular ingenuity, wherever they
find room for the chisel.

The dwellings are as much alike inside as out, and the furniture is
all upon one plan. The floors are of square tiles, the chairs and
tables of black-looking wood with thin crooked legs and puppy feet.
The mantelpieces are wide and high, and have not only time-pieces and
cabbages sculptured over the front, but a real time-piece, which
makes a prodigious ticking, on the top in the middle, with a
flower-pot containing a cabbage standing on each extremity by way of
outrider. Between each cabbage and the time-piece, again, is a little
China man having a large stomach with a great round hole in it,
through which is seen the dial-plate of a watch.

The fireplaces are large and deep, with fierce crooked-looking
fire-dogs. There is constantly a rousing fire, and a huge pot over
it, full of sauer-kraut and pork, to which the good woman of the
house is always busy in attending. She is a little fat old lady, with
blue eyes and a red face, and wears a huge cap like a sugar-loaf,
ornamented with purple and yellow ribbons. Her dress is of
orange-colored linsey-woolsey, made very full behind and very short
in the waist -- and indeed very short in other respects, not reaching
below the middle of her leg. This is somewhat thick, and so are her
ankles, but she has a fine pair of green stockings to cover them. Her
shoes -- of pink leather -- are fastened each with a bunch of yellow
ribbons puckered up in the shape of a cabbage. In her left hand she
has a little heavy Dutch watch; in her right she wields a ladle for
the sauerkraut and pork. By her side there stands a fat tabby cat,
with a gilt toy-repeater tied to its tail, which "the boys" have
there fastened by way of a quiz.

The boys themselves are, all three of them, in the garden attending
the pig. They are each two feet in height. They have three-cornered
cocked hats, purple waistcoats reaching down to their thighs,
buckskin knee-breeches, red stockings, heavy shoes with big silver
buckles, long surtout coats with large buttons of mother-of-pearl.
Each, too, has a pipe in his mouth, and a little dumpy watch in his
right hand. He takes a puff and a look, and then a look and a puff.
The pig- which is corpulent and lazy -- is occupied now in picking up
the stray leaves that fall from the cabbages, and now in giving a
kick behind at the gilt repeater, which the urchins have also tied to
his tail in order to make him look as handsome as the cat.

Right at the front door, in a high-backed leather-bottomed armed
chair, with crooked legs and puppy feet like the tables, is seated
the old man of the house himself. He is an exceedingly puffy little
old gentleman, with big circular eyes and a huge double chin. His
dress resembles that of the boys -- and I need say nothing farther
about it. All the difference is, that his pipe is somewhat bigger
than theirs and he can make a greater smoke. Like them, he has a
watch, but he carries his watch in his pocket. To say the truth, he
has something of more importance than a watch to attend to -- and
what that is, I shall presently explain. He sits with his right leg
upon his left knee, wears a grave countenance, and always keeps one
of his eyes, at least, resolutely bent upon a certain remarkable
object in the centre of the plain.

This object is situated in the steeple of the House of the Town
Council. The Town Council are all very little, round, oily,
intelligent men, with big saucer eyes and fat double chins, and have
their coats much longer and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the
ordinary inhabitants of Vondervotteimittiss. Since my sojourn in the
borough, they have had several special meetings, and have adopted
these three important resolutions:

"That it is wrong to alter the good old course of things:"

"That there is nothing tolerable out of Vondervotteimittiss:" and-

"That we will stick by our clocks and our cabbages."

Above the session-room of the Council is the steeple, and in the
steeple is the belfry, where exists, and has existed time out of
mind, the pride and wonder of the village -- the great clock of the
borough of Vondervotteimittiss. And this is the object to which the
eyes of the old gentlemen are turned who sit in the leather-bottomed
arm-chairs.

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

That Bullet-head had been driven to an extremity, was clear to all;
and in fact, since that editor could not be found, there was some
talk about lynching the other one.

The more common conclusion, however, was that the affair was, simply,
X-traordinary and in-X-plicable. Even the town mathematician
confessed that he could make nothing of so dark a problem. X, every.
body knew, was an unknown quantity; but in this case (as he properly
observed), there was an unknown quantity of X.

The opinion of Bob, the devil (who kept dark about his having 'X-ed
the paragrab'), did not meet with so much attention as I think it
deserved, although it was very openly and very fearlessly expressed.
He said that, for his part, he had no doubt about the matter at all,
that it was a clear case, that Mr. Bullet-head 'never could be
persuaded fur to drink like other folks, but vas continually
a-svigging o' that ere blessed XXX ale, and as a naiteral
consekvence, it just puffed him up savage, and made him X (cross) in
the X-treme.'

~~~ End of Text ~~~

======

METZENGERSTEIN

Pestis eram vivus - moriens tua mors ero.

                -- _Martin Luther_

    HORROR and fatality have been stalking abroad in all ages. Why
then give a date to this story I have to tell? Let it suffice to say,
that at the period of which I speak, there existed, in the interior
of Hungary, a settled although hidden belief in the doctrines of the
Metempsychosis. Of the doctrines themselves - that is, of their
falsity, or of their probability - I say nothing. I assert, however,
that much of our incredulity - as La Bruyere says of all our
unhappiness - "_vient de ne pouvoir être seuls_." {*1}

    But there are some points in the Hungarian superstition which
were fast verging to absurdity. They - the Hungarians - differed very
essentially from their Eastern authorities. For example, "_The
soul_," said the former - I give the words of an acute and
intelligent Parisian - "_ne demeure qu'un seul fois dans un corps
sensible: au reste - un cheval, un chien, un homme meme, n'est que la
ressemblance peu tangible de ces animaux._"

    The families of Berlifitzing and Metzengerstein had been at
variance for centuries. Never before were two houses so illustrious,
mutually embittered by hostility so deadly. The origin of this enmity
seems to be found in the words of an ancient prophecy - "A lofty name
shall have a fearful fall when, as the rider over his horse, the
mortality of Metzengerstein shall triumph over the immortality of
Berlifitzing."

    To be sure the words themselves had little or no meaning. But
more trivial causes have given rise - and that no long while ago - to
consequences equally eventful. Besides, the estates, which were
contiguous, had long exercised a rival influence in the affairs of a
busy government. Moreover, near neighbors are seldom friends; and the
inhabitants of the Castle Berlifitzing might look, from their lofty
buttresses, into the very windows of the palace Metzengerstein. Least
of all had the more than feudal magnificence, thus discovered, a
tendency to allay the irritable feelings of the less ancient and less
wealthy Berlifitzings. What wonder then, that the words, however
silly, of that prediction, should have succeeded in setting and
keeping at variance two families already predisposed to quarrel by
every instigation of hereditary jealousy? The prophecy seemed to
imply - if it implied anything - a final triumph on the part of the
already more powerful house; and was of course remembered with the
more bitter animosity by the weaker and less influential.

    Wilhelm, Count Berlifitzing, although loftily descended, was, at
the epoch of this narrative, an infirm and doting old man, remarkable
for nothing but an inordinate and inveterate personal antipathy to
the family of his rival, and so passionate a love of horses, and of
hunting, that neither bodily infirmity, great age, nor mental
incapacity, prevented his daily participation in the dangers of the
chase.

    Frederick, Baron Metzengerstein, was, on the other hand, not yet
of age. His father, the Minister G--, died young. His mother, the Lady 
Mary, followed him quickly after. Frederick was, at that time, in his
fifteenth year. In a city, fifteen years are no long period - a child
may be still a child in his third lustrum: but in a wilderness - in
so magnificent a wilderness as that old principality, fifteen years
have a far deeper meaning.

    From some peculiar circumstances attending the administration of
his father, the young Baron, at the decease of the former, entered
immediately upon his vast possessions. Such estates were seldom held
before by a nobleman of Hungary. His castles were without number. The
chief in point of splendor and extent was the "Chateau
Metzengerstein." The boundary line of his dominions was never clearly
defined; but his principal park embraced a circuit of fifty miles.

    Upon the succession of a proprietor so young, with a character so
well known, to a fortune so unparalleled, little speculation was
afloat in regard to his probable course of conduct. And, indeed, for
the space of three days, the behavior of the heir out-heroded Herod,
and fairly surpassed the expectations of his most enthusiastic
admirers. Shameful debaucheries - flagrant treacheries - unheard-of
atrocities - gave his trembling vassals quickly to understand that no
servile submission on their part - no punctilios of conscience on his
own - were thenceforward to prove any security against the
remorseless fangs of a petty Caligula. On the night of the fourth
day, the stables of the castle Berlifitzing were discovered to be on
fire; and the unanimous opinion of the neighborhood added the crime
of the incendiary to the already hideous list of the Baron's
misdemeanors and enormities.

    But during the tumult occasioned by this occurrence, the young
nobleman himself sat apparently buried in meditation, in a vast and
desolate upper apartment of the family palace of Metzengerstein. The
rich although faded tapestry hangings which swung gloomily upon the
walls, represented the shadowy and majestic forms of a thousand
illustrious ancestors. _Here_, rich-ermined priests, and pontifical
dignitaries, familiarly seated with the autocrat and the sovereign,
put a veto on the wishes of a temporal king, or restrained with the
fiat of papal supremacy the rebellious sceptre of the Arch-enemy.

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

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

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

within my mind, the ideas of vast mental power, of caution, of
penuriousness, of avarice, of coolness, of malice, of blood thirstiness,
of triumph, of merriment, of excessive terror, of intense - of supreme
despair. I felt singularly aroused, startled, fascinated. "How wild a
history," I said to myself, "is written within that bosom!" Then came a
craving desire to keep the man in view - to know more of him. Hurriedly
putting on an overcoat, and seizing my hat and cane, I made my way into
the street, and pushed through the crowd in the direction which I had seen
him take; for he had already disappeared. With some little difficulty I at
length came within sight of him, approached, and followed him closely, yet
cautiously, so as not to attract his attention.

I had now a good opportunity of examining his person. He was short in
stature, very thin, and apparently very feeble. His clothes, generally,
were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now and then, within the strong
glare of a lamp, I perceived that his linen, although dirty, was of
beautiful texture; and my vision deceived me, or, through a rent in a
closely-buttoned and evidently second-handed roquelaire which enveloped
him, I caught a glimpse both of a diamond and of a dagger. These
observations heightened my curiosity, and I resolved to follow the
stranger whithersoever he should go.

It was now fully night-fall, and a thick humid fog hung over the city,
soon ending in a settled and heavy rain. This change of weather had an odd
effect upon the crowd, the whole of which was at once put into new
commotion, and overshadowed by a world of umbrellas. The waver, the
jostle, and the hum increased in a tenfold degree. For my own part I did
not much regard the rain - the lurking of an old fever in my system
rendering the moisture somewhat too dangerously pleasant. Tying a
handkerchief about my mouth, I kept on. For half an hour the old man held
his way with difficulty along the great thoroughfare; and I here walked
close at his elbow through fear of losing sight of him. Never once turning
his head to look back, he did not observe me. By and bye he passed into a
cross street, which, although densely filled with people, was not quite so
much thronged as the main one he had quitted. Here a change in his
demeanor became evident. He walked more slowly and with less object than
before - more hesitatingly. He crossed and re-crossed the way repeatedly
without apparent aim; and the press was still so thick that, at every such
movement, I was obliged to follow him closely. The street was a narrow and
long one, and his course lay within it for nearly an hour, during which
the passengers had gradually diminished to about that number which is
ordinarily seen at noon in Broadway near the Park - so vast a difference
is there between a London populace and that of the most frequented
American city. A second turn brought us into a square, brilliantly
lighted, and overflowing with life. The old manner of the stranger
re-appeared. His chin fell upon his breast, while his eyes rolled wildly
from under his knit brows, in every direction, upon those who hemmed him
in. He urged his way steadily and perseveringly. I was surprised, however,
to find, upon his having made the circuit of the square, that he turned
and retraced his steps. Still more was I astonished to see him repeat the
same walk several times -- once nearly detecting me as he came round with
a sudden movement.

In this exercise he spent another hour, at the end of which we met with
far less interruption from passengers than at first. The rain fell fast;
the air grew cool; and the people were retiring to their homes. With a
gesture of impatience, the wanderer passed into a bye-street comparatively
deserted. Down this, some quarter of a mile long, he rushed with an
activity I could not have dreamed of seeing in one so aged, and which put
me to much trouble in pursuit. A few minutes brought us to a large and
busy bazaar, with the localities of which the stranger appeared well
acquainted, and where his original demeanor again became apparent, as he
forced his way to and fro, without aim, among the host of buyers and
sellers.

During the hour and a half, or thereabouts, which we passed in this place,
it required much caution on my part to keep him within reach without
attracting his observation. Luckily I wore a pair of caoutchouc
over-shoes, and could move about in perfect silence. At no moment did he
see that I watched him. He entered shop after shop, priced nothing, spoke
no word, and looked at all objects with a wild and vacant stare. I was now
utterly amazed at his behavior, and firmly resolved that we should not
part until I had satisfied myself in some measure respecting him.

A loud-toned clock struck eleven, and the company were fast deserting the
bazaar. A shop-keeper, in putting up a shutter, jostled the old man, and
at the instant I saw a strong shudder come over his frame. He hurried into
the street, looked anxiously around him for an instant, and then ran with
incredible swiftness through many crooked and people-less lanes, until we
emerged once more upon the great thoroughfare whence we had started -- the
street of the D---- Hotel. It no longer wore, however, the same aspect. It
was still brilliant with gas; but the rain fell fiercely, and there were
few persons to be seen. The stranger grew pale. He walked moodily some
paces up the once populous avenue, then, with a heavy sigh, turned in the
direction of the river, and, plunging through a great variety of devious
ways, came out, at length, in view of one of the principal theatres. It
was about being closed, and the audience were thronging from the doors. I
saw the old man gasp as if for breath while he threw himself amid the
crowd; but I thought that the intense agony of his countenance had, in
some measure, abated. His head again fell upon his breast; he appeared as
I had seen him at first. I observed that he now took the course in which
had gone the greater number of the audience - but, upon the whole, I was
at a loss to comprehend the waywardness of his actions.

As he proceeded, the company grew more scattered, and his old uneasiness
and vacillation were resumed. For some time he followed closely a party of
some ten or twelve roisterers; but from this number one by one dropped
off, until three only remained together, in a narrow and gloomy lane
little frequented. The stranger paused, and, for a moment, seemed lost in
thought; then, with every mark of agitation, pursued rapidly a route which
brought us to the verge of the city, amid regions very different from
those we had hitherto traversed. It was the most noisome quarter of
London, where every thing wore the worst impress of the most deplorable
poverty, and of the most desperate crime. By the dim light of an
accidental lamp, tall, antique, worm-eaten, wooden tenements were seen
tottering to their fall, in directions so many and capricious that scarce
the semblance of a passage was discernible between them. The paving-stones
lay at random, displaced from their beds by the rankly-growing grass.
Horrible filth festered in the dammed-up gutters. The whole atmosphere
teemed with desolation. Yet, as we proceeded, the sounds of human life
revived by sure degrees, and at length large bands of the most abandoned
of a London populace were seen reeling to and fro. The spirits of the old
man again flickered up, as a lamp which is near its death hour. Once more
he strode onward with elastic tread. Suddenly a corner was turned, a blaze
of light burst upon our sight, and we stood before one of the huge
suburban temples of Intemperance - one of the palaces of the fiend, Gin.

It was now nearly day-break; but a number of wretched inebriates still
pressed in and out of the flaunting entrance. With a half shriek of joy
the old man forced a passage within, resumed at once his original bearing,
and stalked backward and forward, without apparent object, among the

examples/collected_works_poe.txt  view on Meta::CPAN

Thy wife, and with a tainted memory-
MY seared and blighted name, how would it tally
With the ancestral honors of thy house,
And with thy glory?

   _ Pol_.  Speak not to me of glory!
I hate- I loathe the name; I do abhor
The unsatisfactory and ideal thing.
Art thou not Lalage and I Politian?
Do I not love- art thou not beautiful-
What need we more? Ha! glory!- now speak not of it.
By all I hold most sacred and most solemn-
By all my wishes now- my fears hereafter-
By all I scorn on earth and hope in heaven-
There is no deed I would more glory in,
Than in thy cause to scoff at this same glory
And trample it under foot. What matters it-
What matters it, my fairest, and my best,
That we go down unhonored and forgotten
Into the dust- so we descend together.
Descend together- and then- and then, perchance-

   _ Lal_.  Why dost thou pause, Politian?

   _ Pol_.  And then, perchance
Arise together, Lalage, and roam
The starry and quiet dwellings of the blest,
And still-

   _ Lal_.  Why dost thou pause, Politian?

   _ Pol_.  And still together- together.

   _ Lal_.  Now Earl of Leicester!
Thou lovest me, and in my heart of hearts
I feel thou lovest me truly.

   _ Pol_.  Oh, Lalage!

                                     (_throwing himself upon his knee._)
And lovest thou me?

   _ Lal_.  Hist! hush! within the gloom
Of yonder trees methought a figure passed-
A spectral figure, solemn, and slow, and noiseless-
Like the grim shadow Conscience, solemn and noiseless.

                                           (_walks across and returns._)
I was mistaken -- 'twas but a giant bough
Stirred by the autumn wind. Politian!

   _ Pol_.  My Lalage -- my love! why art thou moved?
Why dost thou turn so pale? Not Conscience' self,
Far less a shadow which thou likenest to it,
Should shake the firm spirit thus. But the night wind
Is chilly -- and these melancholy boughs
Throw over all things a gloom.

   _ Lal_.  Politian!
Thou speakest to me of love. Knowest thou the land
With which all tongues are busy -- a land new found --
Miraculously found by one of Genoa --
A thousand leagues within the golden west?
A fairy land of flowers, and fruit, and sunshine,
And crystal lakes, and over-arching forests,
And mountains, around whose towering summits the winds
Of Heaven untrammelled flow -- which air to breathe
Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter
In days that are to come?

   _ Pol_.  O, wilt thou -- wilt thou
Fly to that Paradise -- my Lalage, wilt thou
Fly thither with me? There Care shall be forgotten,
And Sorrow shall be no more, and Eros be all.
And life shall then be mine, for I will live
For thee, and in thine eyes -- and thou shalt be
No more a mourner -- but the radiant Joys
Shall wait upon thee, and the angel Hope
Attend thee ever; and I will kneel to thee
And worship thee, and call thee my beloved,
My own, my beautiful, my love, my wife,
My all; -- oh, wilt thou -- wilt thou, Lalage,
Fly thither with me?

   _ Lal_.  A deed is to be done --
Castiglione lives!

   _ Pol_.  And he shall die!                                (_exit_)

   _ Lal_. (_after a pause._)  And- he- shall- die!- alas!
Castiglione die? Who spoke the words?
Where am I?- what was it he said?- Politian!
Thou art not gone- thou are not gone, Politian!
I feel thou art not gone- yet dare not look,
Lest I behold thee not; thou couldst not go
With those words upon thy lips- O, speak to me!
And let me hear thy voice- one word- one word,
To say thou art not gone,- one little sentence,
To say how thou dost scorn- how thou dost hate
My womanly weakness. Ha! ha! thou art not gone-
O speak to me! I knew thou wouldst not go!
I knew thou wouldst not, couldst not, durst not go.
Villain, thou art not gone- thou mockest me!
And thus I clutch thee- thus!- He is gone, he is gone
Gone- gone. Where am I?- 'tis well- 'tis very well!
So that the blade be keen- the blow be sure,
'Tis well, 'tis very well- alas! alas!

                          V.

               The suburbs. Politian alone.

    _Politian_.  This weakness grows upon me. I am faint,
And much I fear me ill- it will not do
To die ere I have lived!- Stay, stay thy hand,
O Azrael, yet awhile!- Prince of the Powers
Of Darkness and the Tomb, O pity me!
O pity me! let me not perish now,
In the budding of my Paradisal Hope!
Give me to live yet- yet a little while:
'Tis I who pray for life- I who so late