mbined with the
_Casket_, took the name of its new owner. He found little in Poe's
conduct to reprove, nor does he remember any cause beyond envy and
malice for Griswold's truculent slanders. A quarrel of an hour led to
Poe's dismissal, but the friendly relations between the wayward poet and
his former employer remained unsevered. From New York, Poe sent Graham
the manuscript of a story for which he asked and received fifty dollars.
The story remained unpublished for a year, when Poe again appeared in
the editorial room and begged for the return of the manuscript, that he
might try with it for the prize of one hundred dollars offered for the
best prose tale. Graham showed his "love and friending" for the author
by surrendering the story, and the judges awarded to Edgar Poe the prize
for the "Gold-Bug."

After the dismissal of Poe, the magazine, still under Graham's
management, was edited by Ann Stephens and Charles J. Peterson, until
Rufus Wilmot Griswold sat in the responsible chair. James Russell Lowell
was a subordinate editor of the magazine as early as 1843, and in April
of that year communicated to Nathaniel Hawthorne the desire of the
editor, Edgar Allan Poe, that he too should become a contributor. In
1845 Lowell was married and continued to reside with his wife in
Philadelphia. The following letter was the first written by Mrs. Lowell
from Philadelphia to her friend Mrs. Hawthorne:

PHILADELPHIA, Jan. 16, 1845.

MY DEAR SOPHIA:--I wished to write to you before I left home, but
in the hurry of those last hours I had no time, and instead of
delicate sentiments could only send you gross plum-cake, which I
must hope you received. We are most delightfully situated here in
every respect, surrounded with kind and sympathizing friends, yet
allowed by them to be as quiet and retired as we choose; but it is
always a pleasure to know you can have society if you wish for it,
by walking a few steps beyond your own door.

We live in a little chamber on the third story, quite low enough to
be an attic, so that we feel classical in our environment; and we
have one of the sweetest and most motherly of Quaker women to
anticipate all our wants, and make us comfortable outwardly as we
are blest inwardly. James's prospects are as good as an author's
_ought_ to be, and I begin to fear we shall not have the
satisfaction of being so _very_ poor after all.