year, George R. Graham, proprietor of The Casket, bought th will not suffer themselves to be revealed. Now -and then, alas, the Gentleman's from Burton, and under Graham's editorship Poe's conscience of man takes up a burthen so heavy in horror that it can story appeared in both The Casket and the Gentleman's for De- be thrown down only into the grave. And thus the essence of all cember. Both issues carried the new heading "Graham's- Magazine crime is undivulged. on the first page of text, but each retained its individual title page Not long ago, about the closing in of an evening in autumn, I and serial number, and the Gentleman's had eight additional pages sat at the large bow window of the D Coffee-House in Lon- concluding a continued story begun some months before. Othe don.2 For some months I had been iii in health, but was now con- wise, the two issues were identical. Each, however, served to com- valescent, and, with returning strength, found tnyself in one of plete a volume. With the issue for January 1841, Graham began those happy moods which are so precisely the converse of ennui — publishing Graham's Lady's and Gentleman's Magazine (The moods of the keenest appetency, when the film from the mental Casket and Gentleman's United), numbered in sequence with the vision departs — the axXvs o irpcv Eirrit-v and the intellect, old Casket, and within a few months he added Poe to his staff. electrified, surpasses as greatly its every-day condition, as does the vivid yet candid reason of Leibnitz,a the mad and flimsy rhetoric of Gorgias.4 Merely to breathe was enjoyment; and I derived TEXTS positive pleasure even from many of the legitimate sources of pain. (A)The Casket for December 1840 (17:267-270) and [Burton's] Centlernan's I felt a calm but inquisitive interest in every thing. With a cigar in Magazine for December 1840 (7:267-270), both captioned on first page of tex my mouth and a newspaper in my lap, I had been amusing myself "Graham's Magazine"; (B) Tales (1845), pp. 219-228; (C) J. Lorirner Graham copy of the last with one manuscript correction; (D) Works (1850), II, 398-407, for the greater part of the afternoon, now in poring over adver- PHANTASY-PIECES, title only. tisements, now in observing the promiscuous company in the room, Text (C) is followed. The Lorimer Graham correction is merely insertion of a period at the end of the final footnote — something done independently by and now in peering through the smoky panes into the street. Griswold or his printer in Works (D). The spelling decrepid was a recognized This latter is one of the principal thoroughfares of the city, variant. There were five printer's end-of-line dashes in the first printing (A); two and had been very much crowded during the whole day. But, as were eliminated for Tales, but three were allowed to remain. In B and C and in the darkness came on, the throng momently increased; and, by the our text they fall within the line. time the lamps were well lighted,b two dense and continuous tides of population were rushing past the door. At this particular . [C] period of the evening I had never before been in a similar situa- Ce grand roalheur, de ne pouvoir e'tre seul. tion, and the tumultuous sea of human heads filled me, therefore, La Bru3Qre. with a delicious novelty of emotion. I gave up, at length, all care of things within the hotel, and became asborbed in contemplation It was well said of a certain German book that "er lasst sich of the scene without. nicht lesen" — it does not permit itself to be read. 1 There are some At first my observations took an abstract and generalizing turn. secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly I looked at the passengers in masses, and thought öf them in their in their beds, wringing the hands of ghostly confessors, and look- aggregate relations. Soon, however, I descended to details„ and ing them piteously in the eyes — die with despair of heart and con- regarded with minute interest the innumerable varieties of figure, vulsion of throat, on account of the hideousness of mysteries which dress, air, gait, visage, and expression of countenance. Title: In the Table of Contents this is (B, C) listed as The Man in the Crowd. Motto: French unaccented (A) Combe, (A) b litten (A) 5 • o 6 • . 507 INTERLUDE: 1840 THE MAN OF THE CROWD By far the greater number of those who went by hadT a satisfied odd habit of standing off on end. I observed that they always re- business-like demeanor, and seemed to be thinking only of making , moved or settled their hats with both hands, and wore watches, their way through the press. Their brows were knit, and their eyes with short gold chains of a substantial and ancient pattern. Theirs rolled quickly; when pushed against by fellow-wayfarers the was the affectation of respectability; — if indeed there be an affecta- evinced no symptom of impatience, but adjusted their clothes and tion so honorable. hurried on. Others, still a numerous class, were restle$s in their There were many individuals of dashing appearance, whom I movements, had flushed faces, and talked and gesticulatedto thera easily understoodd as belonging to the race of swell piek-pockets, selves, as if feeling in solitude on account of the very denseness öf with which all great cities are infested. I watched these gentry with the company around. When impeded in their progress, thes much inquisinveness, and found it clifficult to imagine how they people suddenly ceased muttering, but redoubled their gesticula should ever be mistaken for gentlemen by gentlemen themselves. tions, and awaited, with ån absent and overdone smile upön th Their voluminousness of wristband, with an air of excessive frank- lips, the course of the persons impeding them. If jostled, the ness, should betray them at once. bowed profusely to the lostlers, and appeared overwhelmed wiih The gamblers, of whom I descried not a few, were still more confusion. — There was nothing very distinctive about these tW easily recognisable. They wore every variety of dress, from that of the desperate thimble-rig bully, 6 with velvet waistcoat, fancy neck- large classes beyond what I have noted. Their habiliments be , erchief longed to that order which is pointeclly tenned the decent. The : giit chains, and filagreed buttons, to that of the scrupu- were undoubtedly noblemen, merchants, attorneys, tradesmen lously mornate clergyman, than which nothing could be less liable stock-jobbers the Eupatrids 5 and the common-places of society to suspicion. Still all were distinguished by a certain sodden men of leisure and men actively engaged in affairs of their own swarthiness of complexion, a filmy dimness of eye, and pallor and conducting business upon their own responsibility. They did not compression of lip. There were two other traits, moreover, by greatly-excite my attention. Inch I could always detect them; — a guarded lowness of tone in The tribe of clerks was an obvious one and here I discerned coriversation, and a more than ordinary extension of the thumb in two rerharkable divisions. There were the junior clerks of fiash a direction at right angles with the fingers. — Very often, in com- houses — young gentlemen with tight coats, bright boots, well- pany with these sharpers, I observed an order of men somewhat oiled hair, and supercilious lips. Setting aside a certain dapperness ifferent in habits, but still birds of a kindred feather. They may of caxriage, which may be termed deskisane for want of a bett be defined as the gentlemen who live by their wits. They seem to word, the manner of these persons seemed to me an exact fac ey upon the public in two battalions — that of the dandies and simile of what had been the perfection of bon ton about twelve at of the military men. Of the first grade the leading features are eighteen rnonths before. They wore the cast-off graces* of=the ng locks and smiles; of the second frogged coats and frowns. try; — and this, I believe, involves the best definition of the clås •Descending in the scale of what is termed gentility, I found The division of the upper clerks of staunch 'firnis; or o er and deeper themes for speculation. I saw Jew pedlars, with "steady old fellows," it was not possible to niistake. These we awk eyes flashing from countenances whose every other feature known by their coats and pantaloons of black or brOWn,'Inade to si re only an expression -of abject humility; sturdy professional comfortably, with white cravats and waistcoats; bräälsolid-lookin eet beggars scowling upon-mendicants of a better staMp, whom shoes, and thick hose or gaiters. They had' all slightly b al despair alone had driven ,forth into the night for charity; feeble ghastly invalids, upon whom death had placed a sure hand, and heads, from which the right ears, long used to pen-holding, had _ a and, d set down (A) • 509 INTERLUDE: r8 4 o THE MAN OF THE CROWD who sidled and tottered through the mob, looking every one be- length gained ascendancy, and threw over every thing a fitful and seechingly in the face, as if in search of some chance consolation, arish lustre. All was dark yet splendid — as that ebony to which some lost hope; modest young girls returning from long and late as been likened the style of Tertullian. 8 labor to a cheerless home, and shrinking more tearfully than The wild effects of the light enchained me to an examination of nantly from the glances of ruffians, whose direct contact, even, ndividual faces; and although the rapidity with which the world could not be avoided; women of the town of all kinds and of all f lightg flitted before the window, prevented me from casting ages — the unequivocal beauty in the prime of her womanhoods ore than a- glance upon each visage, still it seemed that, in my putting one in mind of the statue ine Lucian, 7 with the'surface o en peculiar mental state, I could frequently read, 'even in that Parian marble, and the interior filled with filth — the loathsom rief interval of a glance, the history of long years. and utterly lost leper in rags — the wrinkled, bejewelled and pain With my brow to the glass, I was thus occupied in scrutinizing begrimed beldame, making a last effort at youth — the mere child he mob, when suddenly there came into view a countenance (that of immature form, yet, from long association, an adept in the dread- decrepid old man, some sixty-five or seventy years of age,) — a ful coquetries of her trade, and burning with a rabid ambition to be untenance which at once arrested and absorbed my whole atten- on, on account of the absolute idiosyncracy of its expression. Any ranked the equal of her elders in vice; 8 drunkards innumerabl and indescribable — some in shreds and patches, reeling, inarticu mg even remotely resembling that expression I had never seen late, with bruised visage and lack-lustre eyes — some in whole . al- efore. I well remember that my first thought, upon beholding it, though filthy garments, with a slightly unsteady swagger, thick as that Retzsch,h had he viewed it, would have greatly preferred sensual lips, and hearty-looking rubicund faces — others clothed in it to his own pictural incarnations of the fiend.le As I endeavored, materials which had once been good, and which even now were during the brief minute of my original survey, to form some analy- scrupulously well brushed — men who walked with a more than s of the meaning conveyed, there arose confusedly and paradoxi- naturally firm and springy step, but whose countenances were fear- ly within my mind, the ideas of vast mental power, of caution, of fully pale,,whose eyes hideously wild and red, and who clutched enuriousness, of avarice, of coolness, of rnalice, of blood-thirsti- with quivering fingers, as they strode through the crowd, at every ness, of triurnph, of merriment, of excessive terror, of intense — of object which came within their reach; beside these, pie-men, reme despair. I felt singularly aroused, startled, fascinated. porters, coal-heavers, sweeps; organ-grinders, monkey-exhibfter w wild a hiftory," I said to rayself, "is written within that som!"il Then came a craving desire to keep the man in view — and ballad mongers, those ,Who vended with those who sang; ragg artizans and exhausted laborers of every description, and all fu know more of him. Hurriedly putting on an overcoat, and of a noisy and inordinate vivacity which jarred discordantly upnn izinglny hat and cane, I made my way into the street, and pushed the ear, and gave an aching sensation to the eye. rough",. the crowd in the direction which I had seen him take; for As the night deepened, so deepened to me the interest;df t ii ad already disappeared. With some little difficulty I at length scene; for not only did the general character of the crowd nr, e within sight of hirn, approached, and followed him closely, terially alter (its gentler features retiring in the gradual 'wit cautionsly, so as not to attract his attention. drawal of the more orderly portion of the people, and its vharsh ad now a ,good opportunity of examining his person. He ones coming out into bolder relief, as the.late hour brought fo ort ui stature, , very thin, and apparently very feeble. His every species of infamy from its den,) but the rays of the gas-lam enetalfy,,)were filthy and ragged; but as he came, now feeble at first ui their struggle with the dying day, corrected editorially e of (A) f and;Still -(A) - 5 1,:ö= INTERLUDE: 1840 THE MAN OF THE CROWD He urged his way steadily and perseveringly. I was surprised, how- and then, within the strong glare of a lamp, I perceived that his ever, to find, upon his having made the circuit of the square, that linen, although dirty, was of beautiful texture; and my vision de- he turned and retraced his steps. Still more was I astonished to see ceived me, or, through a rent in a closely-buttoned and evidently hirn repeat the same walk several times — once nearly detecting me roquelairei which enveloped hira,12 I caught a second-handed as he carae round with a sudden movement. 15 glimpse iboth of a diamond and of a dagger.i These observations In this exercise he spent another° hour, at the end of which we heightened my curiosity, and I resolved to follow the stranger met with far less interruption from passengers than at first. The whithersoever he should go. 13 rain fell fast; the air grew cool; and the people were retiring to It was now fully night-fall, and a thick huraid fog hung över tfi'eir homes. With a gesture of° impatience, the wanderer passed the city, ksoon enclingk in a settled and heavy rain. This change of nto a bye-street comparatively deserted. Down this, some quarter weather had an odd effect upon the crowd, the whole of which of a mile long, he rushed with an activity I could not have dreamed was at once put into new commotion, and overshadowed by a of seeing in one so aged, and which put me to much trouble in world of umbrellas. The waver, -the jostle, and the hum increased pursuit. A few minutes brought us to a large and busy bazaar, with in a tenfold degree. For my own part I did not much regard the the localities of which the stranger appeared well acquainted, and rain — the lurking of an old fever in my system rendering the where his original demeanor again became apparent, as he forced moisture somewhat too dangerously pleasant. Tying a handker- his way to and fro, without aim, among the host of buyers and chief about my mouth, I kept on. For half an hour the old man sellers. held his way with difficulty along the great thoroughfare; and -I During the hour and a half, or thereabouts, which we passed in here walked close at his elbow through fear of losing sight of hirn. this place, it required rauch caution on my part to keep hirn within Never once turning his head to look back, he did not observe me. reach without attracting his observation. Luckily I wore a pair of By and bye he passed into a cross street, which, although densely caoutchoud> over-shoes, and could move about in perfect silence. filled with people, was not quite so much thrönged as the main At no rnoment did he see that I watched hirn. He entered shop one he had quitted. Here a change in his derneanor became evi- after shop, priced nothing, spoke no word, and looked at all objects dent. He walked more slowly and with less object than before — with a wild and vacant stare. I was now utterly arnazed at his be- more hesitatingly.-He crossed and re-crossed the way repeatedly haviour, and fiindy resolved that we should not part until I had without apparent aim; and the press was still so thick that, at every satisfied myself in some raeasure respecting hirn. -to follow him closely. The street was such movement, I was obliged A loud-toned clock struck eleven, and the company were fast a narrow and long one, and his course lay within, it for nearly an deserting the bazaar. A shop-keeper, in putting up a shutter, hour, during 'which the passengers had gradually diminished to ostled the old man, and at the instant I saw a strong shudder come about that number which is ordinarily seen at noon in Broadway ver his frame. He hurried into the street, looked anxiously near the Park so vast a difference is there between a Londo around him for an instant, and then ran with incredible swiftness populace and that of the most frequented American city. A second through many ,crooked and people-less lanes, until we emerged turn brought us into a square, brilliantly lighted,m and overflowing once more upon the great thoroughfare whence we had started — with life. The old manner of the stranger re-appeared. 'His thin e street of the D — Hotel. It no longer wore, however, the fell upon his breast, while his eyes rolled wildly from under h" me aspect. It was still brilliant with gas; but the rain fell fiercely, knit brows, in every direction, upon those who hemmed hirn i roquelaire (A) k . . k threatening to end (4) about ah (A)' gum (A) j . j either of a diamond, or of a 1 street way (A) of Whäi seeMedto be petulant (A) dagger. (A) m litten, (A) . , - 5 1 2 •

- 1Y.L £1.1.‘ 1. 11 ■■-.1 LN. VY and there were few persons to be seen. The stranger grew pale stood before one of the huge suburban temples of Intemperance — He Walked moodily some paces up the once populous avenue, then; one of the palaces of the fiend, Gin. 17 with a heavy sigh, turned in the direction of the river, and, plun It was now nearly day-break; but a number of wretched ine- ing through a great variety of devious ways, came out, at length, in briates still pressed in and out of the fiaunting entrance. With a view of one of the principal theatres: It was about being closed, half shriek of joy the old man forced a passage within, resumed and the audience were thronging from the doors. I saw the old, at once his original bearing, and stalked backward and forward, man gasp as if for breath while he threw himself amid the crowd without apparent object, among the throng. He had not been thus but I thought that the intense agony of his countenance had, in long occupied, however, before a rush to the doors gave token that some measure, abated. His head again fell upon his breast; he a the. host was closing them for the night. It was something even peared as I had seen hirn at first. I observed that he now ,took the more intense than despair that I then observed upon the counte- course in which had gone the greater number of the audience , nance of the singular being whom I had watched so pertinaciously. but, upon the whole, I was at a loss to comprehend the waywar ,et he did not hesitate in his career, but, with a mad energy, re- ness of his actions. traced his steps at once, to the heart of the rnighty London. Long As he proceeded, the company grew more scattered, and his öl and swiftly he fled, while I followed him in the wildest amazement, uneasiness and vacillation were resumed. Sor some time he resolute not to abandon a scrutiny in which I now felt an interest lowed closely a party of some ten or twelve roisterers; but from thi all-absorbing. The sun arose while we proceeded, and, when we number one by one dropped off, until three only remained 't ad once again reached that most thronged mart of the populous gether, in a narrow and gloomy lane little frequented. The town the street of the D Hotel, it presented an appearance stranger paused, and, for a moment, seemed lost in thought; then of human bustle and activity scarcely inferior to what I had seen on with every mark of agitation, pursued rapidly a route whiCh the evening before. And here, long, amid the momently increasing brought us to the verge of the city, amid regions very differen confusion, did I persist in my pursuit of the stranger. But, as usual, from those we had hitherto traversed. It was the most noisome quar he walked to and fro, and during the day did not pass from out the ter of London, where every thing wore the worst impress of -the urmoil of that street. And, as the shades of the second evening most deplorable poverty, and of the most desperate crime. Byr came on, I grew wearied unto death, and, stopping fully in front of dim light of an accidental lamp, tall, antique, worm-eaten, wooden he wanderer, gazed at him steadfastly in the face. 18 He noticed me tenements were seen tottering to their fall, 16 in directions so män not, but resumed his solemn walk, while I, ceasing to follow, re- and capricious that scarce the semblance of a passage was discern- , mamed absorbed in contemplation. "This old man," I said at ible between them. The paving-stones lay at random, clisplaced ength, is the type and the genius of deep crime. He refuses to be from their beds by the rankly-growing grass. Horrible filth festered one. He is the man of the crowd. It will be in vain to follow; for in the damrned-up gutters. The whole atmosphere teemed With I shall learn no more of hirn, nor of his deeds. The worst heart of desolation. Yet, as we proceeded, the sounds of human life reVived e world is a grosser book than the 'Hortulus Anincm;* r and per- by sure degrees, and at length large bands of the rnost abandone aps it is but one of the great mercies of God that 'er lasst sich of a London populace were seen reeling to and fro. The ipirits o icht lesen.' " the old man again flickered up, as a lamp which is near its" death hour. Once more he strode onward with elastic tread. Sifddenl e "ITortutus Animw cum Oratiunculis Aliquibus Superadditis" of unninger . corner was turned, a blaze of light burst upon our sight; and we Footnote added first irt-B. The end of the footnote. A is dated at the q deadly pale. (A) Lorimer Graham (C) correction,is end November, 1840. merely the addition of a period at the 5 1 4 • 5 1 5 • THE MAN OF THE CROWD INTERLUDE: 1840 9. Jean-Louis Guez de Balzac (1594-1655) said this of the style of Tertullian NOTES (A.n. 16o-23o); according to Menagiana (second edition, Paris, 1694), p. 86. Poe Motto: "That great evil, to be miable to be alone," is from L -2. Bruyere'S' probably used it at second hand. Les CaracQres, section 99, "De l'homme." It is also quoted in "." ro. Friedrich August Moritz Retzsch (1779-1857) was a German painter 1. This quotation recurs at the end of the tale, and is discussed in ,note 19. and engraver, noted especially for his illustrations of Goethe's Faust. In his long review of Henry F. Chorley's Memorials of Mrs. Hemans (SLM, October 1836), 2. Poe's descriptions frequently echo Dickens' language. The most strikin' parallels are quoted in the notes below; others, less important, might be found.t. Poe notes that "Retzsch and Flaxman were Mrs. H's favorites among modern artists. " Hervey Allen in Israfel (1926), II, 515, thought Poe's story "reveals impressions of the visit to London with the Allans," but while a schoolboy of tw \elve, o 11. Compare " Whitman," line 42: "What wild heart-histories refined Arnerican family, rnight observe large crowds in London streets by daY seem to lie enwritten." he would know nothing of gin-shops at first hand. 12. A roquelaire (usually spelled roquelaure) is a knee-length cloak, men- 3. The Greek Phrase rneans "the rnist that previously was upon [them]." It tioned also in "." Iliad, V, 127, where Athene reinoves the haze from the eyes is adapted from the 13. This is an echo of St. Luke 9:57, "I will follow thee whithersoever of Diornedes, to permit him to distinguish the gods in battle. Poe used the sarrie thou goest." words in his "Arnerican Novel-Writing" (not collected by Harrison) in the PittS- burgh Literary Examiner and Western Monthly Review for August 1839. 14. City Hall Park in Poe's day was the center of life in New York City. 4. In a review of Mrå. Sigourney's Letters to Young Ladies (Southern Liter- 15. The source of much of the description of the old man and his behavior ary Messenger, July 1836), Poe accuses Leibnitz of "a multiplicity of errors' in Dickens' "Thoughts about People," which describes at St.,James's Park a on the subject of the faculty of Memory, but in another review quotes him man who "walked up and down before the little patch of grass on which the approvingly. However, the philosopher named at this point in the earlier versints chairs are placed for hire, not as if he were doing it for pleasure or recreation, of this tale is George Combe (1788-1858), now chiefly remembered as a phrenol- but as if it were a matter of compulsion." ogist. He was also a moral philosopher, advocating the study of the natural 16. Compare Gray's "Impromptu," line 14: "Turrets and arches nodding world as a guide to hurnan conduct. He visited America in 1838. Poe referre to their fall." There is a similar description of dilapidated streets and houses to hirn favorably in a review of Amos Dean's Philosophy of Hurnan Life in m Poe's "King Pest." Burton's, February 1840, and as "George Combe — than whom a more candid Gritical an 17. This paragraph and the next owe much to Dickens' sketch of "Gin- never, perhaps, wrote or spoke," in a review of Macaulay's Shops" which Poe adrnired enough to reprint in full in his review of Watkins June 1841. Gorgias of Leontini, on the othe Miscellaneous Essays in Graham's, Tottle (SLM, June 1836). Pertinent parts are: hand, was a statesman and sophist of the time of Plato, who gave his name to \t of absurdit The filthy and miserable appearance of this part of London can hardly Socratic dialogue on rhetoric. His style was elaborate, to the poin be imagined by those who have not witnessed it. Wretched houses, with He is narned -also in "How to Write a Blackwood Article." broken windows patched with rags and paper, every room let out to a different 5. Eupatrids are persons belonging to the noblest farnilies. family, and in many instances to two, or even three filth every where — 6. ThiMble rig is the shell game. a gutter before the houses and a drain behind them — clothes drying at the The passage referred to in Lucian of Samosata is in the twenty=fo windows, slops emptying from the ditto; girls of fourteen or fifteen, with matted 7. hair, walking about bare-footed, and in old white great coats, almost their only section of his Somnium ("The Dfeam," also called "The Cock") and is mS »e. covering; boys of all ages, in coats of all sizes, and no coats at all; men and Poe in a review of Lord Brougham's Historical Sketches of Statesme'n wornen, in every variety of scanty and dirty apparel, lounging about, scolding, Flourished in the Time of George III in Burton's, September drinking, srnoking, squabbling, fighting, and swearing. "Fifty Suggestions," number 21. You turn the comer. What a change! All is light and brilliancy. The hum 8. One source of the description of the prostitutes is in "The Pawbb of many voices issues from that splendid gin-shop.... Shop" in Sketches by Boz: It is growing late, and the throng of men, women, and children who have In the next box is a young female, whose attire, miserably poor, --but een constantly going in and out, dwindles down to two or three occasional tremely gaudy, wretchedly cold, but scrupulously fine, but too plaifil Ybes< e stragglers — cold wretched-looking creatures, in the last stage of emaciation her station in life. The rich satin gown with its faded trimmings the d disease. The Imot of Irish laborers become furious in their disputes; out thin shoes, and pink silk stockings — the sumrner bonnet . Some) of the party are bome off to the station-house, and the remainder the sunken face where a daub of rouge only serves as an'inde X7r- o- -:the,raya:gesk mk home to beat their wives for complaining, and kick the children for dar- of squandered health ... and where the practisefl rnileis awretched mocke to be hungry. of the misery of the heart — cannot be mistaken. 5 1 6 INTERLUDE: 1840

18. Compare "Silence — a Fable": "And the lynx lay down a't the feet of the Demon, and looked at him steadily in the face." 19. The German quotation appears also (applied to a book by "Mr. Mathews") in the forty-sixth of Poe's "Fifty Suggestions." The Latin work here printed at Strass- mentioned is certainly the Ortulus anime cum oratiunculis burg by Johann Reinhard GriMinger, January 31, 1500 (no. 8937 in Hain's Repertorium Bibllographicum, Stuttgart, 1826-38), of which there is a copy in the TALES: 1841-1842 British Museum. Poe's spelling of the title and the printer's narne are retained here as given in all his texts. They are those of his probable source, Isaac D'Israeli there tolit D'Israeli's "Religious Nouvellettes" in Curiosities of Literature. describes the book as having indecorous illustrations. Poe presumably hads, some other source for his German sentence, which has not yet been found. I have no es), the word hortulus emended er because, although Buch is neuter (calling ior is rnasculine. At the beginning of his story Poe translated the German literally, "It does not permit itself to be read." Here he took this to mean that the book was too shocking for a reader to peruse it cornpletely; but the meaning of his source may have been that the book referred to was exeCrably printed, or that no copy was available. It will 'be recalled that in 1837 Poe boarded with the learned bookseller William Gowans, who took an interest in incunabula, of which Griin- inger's "srnall octavo in Gothic type" is an example. 2. COLLECTED WORKS OF T ALES

GROTESQUE AND ARABESQUE.

BY EDGAR A. POE.

Selteamen tochter Jovis Seinem sehosekinde Der PhantaSie. GOETHE. TALES AND SKETCHES 1831-1842

IN TWO VOLUMES. EDITED BY

VOL. J. THOMAS OLLIVE MABBOTT with the assistance of Eleanor D. Kewer and Maureen C. Mabbott

PHILADELPETA

• LEA. AND :- BLANCHARD. 1840. THE BELKNAP PRESS OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, Massachusetts London, England 1978

124"1"V'e Mreen, InIrrror