the two possibilities—­that of a knowledge of God through his works and that of a knowledge of Him in his essential nature.  The Godhead, in itself, is distinguished from the Godhead observed in its effects.  But our critic is zealous.  Moreover, being a divine, he is honest—­ingenuous.  It is his duty to pervert my meaning by omitting my italics—­just as, in the sentence previously quoted, it was his Christian duty to falsify my argument by leaving out the two words, ‘in part,’ upon which turns the whole force—­indeed the whole intelligibility of my proposition.

“Were these ‘misrepresentations’ (is that the name for them?) made for any less serious a purpose than that of branding my book as ‘impious’ and myself as a ‘pantheist,’ a ‘polytheist,’ a Pagan, or a God knows what (and indeed I care very little so it be not a ’Student of Theology’), I would have permitted their dishonesty to pass unnoticed, through pure contempt of the boyishness—­for the turn-down-shirt-collar-ness of their tone:—­but, as it is, you will pardon me, Mr. Editor, that I have been compelled to expose a ‘critic’ who courageously preserving his own anonymosity, takes advantage of my absence from the city to misrepresent, and thus vilify me, by name.  EDGAR A. POE.

“Fordham, September 20, 1848.”

From this time Poe did not write much; he had quarreled with the conductors of the chief magazines for which he had previously written, and they no longer sought his assistance.  In a letter to a friend, he laments the improbabilities of an income from literary labor, saying: 

“I have represented ——­ to you as merely an ambitious simpleton, anxious to get into society with the reputation of conducting a magazine which somebody behind the curtain always prevents him from quite damning with his stupidity; he is a knave and a beast.  I cannot write any more for the Milliner’s Book, where T——­n prints his feeble and very quietly made Dilutions of other people’s reviews; and you know that ——­ can afford to pay but little, though I am glad to do anything for a good fellow like ——.  In this emergency I sell articles to the vulgar and trashy ——­, for $5 a piece.  I inclose my last, cut out, lest you should see by my sending the paper in what company I am forced to appear.”

His name was now frequently associated with that of one of the most brilliant women of New England, and it was publicly announced that they were to be married.  He had first seen her on his way from Boston, when he visited that city to deliver a poem before the Lyceum there.  Restless, near the midnight, he wandered from, his hotel near where she lived, until he saw her walking in a garden.  He related the incident afterward in one of his most exquisite poems, worthy of himself, of her, and of the most exalted passion.