an Letters, and the fame to which he had risen giving him new
authority, he made or marred the reputation of many a literary aspirant.

Exposition of plagiarism became a hobby with him, and his attacks upon
Longfellow upon this ground, brought on a controversy between him and
the gentle poet which reached such a heat that it was dubbed "The
Longfellow War." All attempts of friends and fellow journalists to make
him more moderate in his criticisms were in vain; they seemed indeed,
but to excite the Imp of the Perverse, under whose influence he became
more merciless than ever. An admirer of this virtue carried to such an
extreme that it became a serious fault, as it was assuredly a grievous
mistake, humorously characterized him in a parody upon "The Raven,"
containing the following stanza:

"Neither rank nor station heeding, with his foes around him bleeding,
Sternly, singly and alone, his course he kept upon that floor;
While the countless foes attacking, neither strength nor valor lacking,
On his goodly armor hacking, wrought no change his visage o'er,
As with high and honest aim he still his falchion proudly bore,
Resisting error evermore."

Many of the "waspish foes" thus made turned their stings upon his
private character, against which there was already a secret poison
working--the poison that fell from the tongue, and the pen of Rufus
Griswold. He had the ear of numbers of Edgar Poe's friends in the
literary world, and what time The Dreamer dreamed his dreams in utter
ignorance of the unfriendliness toward him of the big man whose big
brain he admired, the big man watched for his chance to insert the
poison. It was invariably hidden in a coating of sugar. Poe was a
wonderful genius, he would declare, his imagination--his style--they
were marvellous! Marvelous! His _head_ was all right, but--. The "but"
always came in a lowered tone, full of commiseration, "_but_--his
_heart_!--Allowance should, of course, be made for his innate lack of
principle--he should not be held _too_ responsible. His habits--well
known to everyone of course!"

No--they were not even suspected, many of his listeners replied. Might
not Dr. Griswold be mistaken? they asked. Was it possible that an
habitual drunkard could turn out such a mass of brilliant and artistic
work? And consider the exquisite neatness of his manuscript!

Peradventure the listener persisted in believing his informant
mistaken--peradventure he