hat sigh in uneasy
slumbers, and the proud, watchful mountains that look down upon all--the
man that would not only look upon these with his natural eye but feed
his soul upon them as a sacrament, must do so in solitude. And so too, I
hold, should one listen to the deep harmonies of music of the highest
class."

At length the hour came when Mr. Graham felt that he must tear himself
away--bring this strange visit to an end. Before going he felt moved by
an impulse to express something of the effect it had had upon him.

"Mr. Poe," he said, "I wish to thank you for one of the most delightful
evenings of my life and for having taken me into the heart of your home.
I can find no words in which to express my appreciation. Tonight, at
your fireside, it seems to me that I have had for the first time in my
life a clear understanding of the word happiness."

Edgar Poe smiled, dreamily.

"Why should we not be happy here?" he answered. "Concerning happiness,
my dear Mr. Graham, I have a little creed of my own. If I could only
persuade others to adopt it there would be more happy people--far more
contented ones--in the world."

"And the articles of your creed?" queried Mr. Graham.

"Are only four. First, free exercise in the open air, and plenty of it.
This brings health--which is a kind of happiness in itself--that
attainable by any other means is scarcely worth the name. Second, love
of woman. I need not tell you that my life fulfils that condition." (As
he spoke, his eyes, with an expression of ineffable tenderness, wandered
for a moment--and it seemed involuntarily--in the direction of his
wife). "The third condition is contempt for ambition. Would that I could
tell you that I have attained to that! When I do, there will be little
in this world to be desired by me. The fourth and last is an object of
unceasing pursuit. This is the most important of all, for I believe that
the extent of one's happiness is in proportion to the spirituality of
this object. In this I am especially fortunate, for no more elevating
pursuit exists, I think, than that of systematically endeavoring to
bring to its highest perfection the art of literature."

"I notice you do not mention money in your creed," remarked his guest.

"No, neither do I mention air. Both the one and the other are essential
to life, and to the keeping together of body and soul. It goes without
saying that the necessities of life are necessary to happiness. But
money--me