Page 13 of 172 MEMOIR OF EDGAR ALLAN POE. - Complete Poetical Works

This cryptographic assertion was made in connection with what the public deemed a challenge, and Poe was inundated with ciphers more or less abstruse, demanding solution. In the correspondence which ensued in 'Graham's Magazine' and other publications, Poe was universally acknowledged to have proved his case, so far as his own personal ability to unriddle such mysteries was concerned. Although he had never offered to undertake such a task, he triumphantly solved every cryptogram sent to him, with one exception, and that exception he proved conclusively was only an imposture, for which no solution was possible.

The outcome of this exhaustive and unprofitable labor was the fascinating story of "The Gold Bug," a story in which the discovery of hidden treasure is brought about by the unriddling of an intricate cipher.

The year 1841 may be deemed the brightest of Poe's checkered career. On every side acknowledged to be a new and brilliant literary light, chief editor of a powerful magazine, admired, feared, and envied, with a reputation already spreading rapidly in Europe as well as in his native continent, the poet might well have hoped for prosperity and happiness. But dark cankers were gnawing his heart. His pecuniary position was still embarrassing. His writings, which were the result of slow and careful labor, were poorly paid, and his remuneration as joint editor of 'Graham's' was small. He was not permitted to have undivided control, and but a slight share of the profits of the magazine he had rendered world-famous, whilst a fearful domestic calamity wrecked all his hopes, and caused him to resort to that refuge of the broken-hearted--to that drink which finally destroyed his prospects and his life.

Edgar Poe's own account of this terrible malady and its cause was made towards the end of his career. Its truth has never been disproved, and in its most important points it has been thoroughly substantiated. To a correspondent he writes in January 1848:

"You say, 'Can you _hint_ to me what was "that terrible evil" which

caused the "irregularities" so profoundly lamented?' Yes, I can do more

than hint. This _evil_ was the greatest which can befall a man. Six

years ago, a wife whom I loved as no man ever loved before, ruptured a

blood-vessel in singing. Her life was despaired of. I took leave of

her forever, and underwent all the agonies of her death. She recovered

partially, and I again hoped. At the end of a year, the vessel broke

again. I went through precisely the same scene.... Then again--again--

and even once again at varying intervals. Each time I felt all the

agonies of her death--and at each accession of the disorder I loved

her more dearly and clung to her life with more desperate pertinacity.

But I am constitutionally sensitive--nervous in a very unusual degree.

		Weakness of attitude becomes weakness of character. Albert Einstein

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