The Complete Essays by Edgar Allan Poe--Delphi Classics (Illustrated) by Edgar Allan Poe

Author:Edgar Allan Poe [POE, EDGAR ALLAN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Parts Edition 10 of 21 by Delphi Classics
Publisher: Delphi Classics (Parts Edition)
Published: 2017-08-25T00:00:00+00:00

American Poetry [lecture],” (Text-01), “Wrenn” fragment, 1843

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Mrs. Maria Brooks, the author of “Zophiel, or The Bride of Seven”, is <however> >>one of<< the most <justly> distinguished of our poetesses. Her language is bold, nervous, passionate — her imagination rich, lofty, spiritual. Her chief faults are bombast and extravagance. She has been highly lauded by Southey — and is one among the few of Southey’s innumerable protégés, whom he has not quite overwhelmed and destroyed by indiscriminate laudation.

The allusion to the poet laureate brings to my remembrance the patronage he was pleased to bestow upon two very remarkable instances of precocious poetical talent — I mean the Misses Davidson — Lucretia Maria and Margaret Miller.

It is about <two> >>4<< years ago, I believe, that Mess: Lea & Blanchard published “The Biography and Poetical Remains of the late Margaret Miller Davidson” — a work given to the world by Washington Irving. In common with all who read I was deeply interested in the narrative set forth. The portrait of the young and beautiful enthusiast did not fail to excite my warmest sympathies, and I dwelt upon the pleasing yet melancholy theme with a lingering delight. Of the biographical portion of the book, I said, indeed, what every one says (and most justly) — that nothing could be more intensely pathetic. In respect, however, to the “Poetical Remains”, the tone of my observations was not in accordance with the mass of my contemporaries. Without calling in question the precocity of the child, I was forced to dissent from that extravagant eulogium which had its origin, beyond doubt, in a confounding of the interest felt in the personal poetess and her sad fortunes, with a legitimate admiration of her works. I did not, in truth, conceive it to be either honest or necessary, to mislead, in any degree, the public taste or opinion, by styling “Lenore”, as it exists, a fine poem, merely because its author might have written a fine poem had she lived, I emphasize the “might”; for the history of all intellect demonstrates that the point is a questionable one indeed, The analogies of Nature are universal; and just as the most rapidly-growing herbage is the most speedy in its decay — just as the ephemeron struggles to perfection in a day, only to perish in that day’s decline — so is the mind early matured, only to be early in its decadence; and when we behold, in the eye of infancy, the soul of the adult, it is but indulging a day-dream to hope for any farther proportionate development. Should the prodigy survive to ripe age, a mental imbecility, not far removed from idiocy itself, is too frequently the result. From this rule, the exceptions are rare indeed; but it should be observed that when the exception does occur, the intellect is of a Titan cast, even to the days of its extreme senility, and acquires renown not in one, but in all the wide fields of fancy and of reason.

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