them, I do not think it will be necessary to say 'From the ,'—that would be too bad;—and, perhaps, 'From a late paper,' would do.
"I have not forgotten how a 'good word in season' from you made 'The Raven,' and made 'Ulalume,' (which, by-the-way, people have done me the honor of attributing to you)—therefore I would ask you, (if I dared,) to say something of these lines—if they please you.
In double proof—of his earnest disposition to do the best for himself, and of the trustful and grateful nature which has been denied him—we give another of the only three of his notes which we chance to retain :—
"My dear Mr. Willis:—I am about to make an effort at re-establishing myself in the literary world, and feel that I may depend upon your aid.
"My general aim is to start a Magazine, to be called 'The Stylus;' but it would be useless to me, even when established, if not entely out of the control of a publisher. I mean, therefore, to get up a Journal which shall be my own, at all points. With this end in view, I must get a list of, at least, five hundred subscribers to begin with:—nearly two hundred I have already. I propose, however, to go South and West, among my personal and literary friends—old college and West Point acquaintances—and see what I can do. In order to get the means of taking a first step, I propose to lecture at the Society Library, on Thursday, the 3d of February—and, that there may be no cause of squabbling, my subject shall not be literary at all. I have chosen a broad text—'The Universe.'
"Having thus given you the facts of the case, I leave all the rest to the suggestions of your own tact and generosity. Gratefully—most gratefully—
Brief and chance-taken, as these letters are, we think they sufficiently prove the existence of the very qualities denied to Mr. Poe—humility, willingness to persevere, belief in another's kindness, and capability of cordial and grateful friendship! Such he assuredly was when sane. Such only he has invariably seemed to us, in all we have happened personally to know of him, through a friendship of five or six years. And so much easier is it to believe what we have seen and known, than what we hear of only, that we remember him but with admiration and respect—these descriptions of him, when morally insane, seem to us like portraits, painted in sickness, of a man we have only known in health.
But there is another, more touching, and far more forcible evidence there was goodness in Edgar A. Poe. To reveal it, we are obliged to venture upon the lifting of the veil which sacredly covers grief and refinement in poverty—but we think it may be excused, if so we can brighten the memory of the poet, even were there not a more needed and immediate service which it may render to the nearest link broken by his death.
Our first knowledge of Mr. Poe's removal to this city was by a call which
