dent by the fact that in the following
October, he being ill, Mrs. Clemm applied to N. P. Willis for some
employment for him, who gave him a place in his office as assistant
editor. Willis says that Mrs. Clemm's countenance as she pleaded for her
son-in-law was "beautiful and saintly by reason of an evident complete
giving up of her life to privation and sorrowful tenderness" for those
whom she loved. Of Poe, he says that he was "a quiet, patient,
industrious and most gentlemanly person, commanding the utmost respect
and good feeling of every one." He also says, in speaking of a lecture
which he delivered about this time before the _New York Lyceum_, and
which was attended by several hundred persons: "He becomes a desk; his
beautiful head showing like a statuary embodiment of Discrimination--his
accent like a knife through water."

It was now--in January, 1845--that _The Raven_ was published in the
_Evening Mirror_, taking the world by storm. Probably no one was more
surprised at its immediate success than was Poe himself, who, as he
afterwards stated to a friend, had never had much opinion of the poem.
He now found himself elevated to the highest rank of American literary
fame, and with this his worldly fortune should also have risen, yet we
find him going on in the same rut as before, writing but little for the
magazine and for that little being poorly paid--too poorly to enable the
family to live in any degree of comfort. From one cheap lodging to
another they removed, with such frequency as to suggest to us the
suspicion that their rent was not always ready when due.

But after some time the old discontent returned upon Poe. Willis and the
_Mirror_ were too narrow for him; and he sought and was fortunate enough
to obtain a place on the _Broadway Journal_, at that time the leading
journal of the day, and of which he was soon appointed assistant editor.

With a good salary, the family were now enabled to live in more comfort.
They rented a front and back room on the third story of an old house on
East Broadway, which had once been the residence of a prosperous
merchant, but had long ago been given over to the use of poor but
respectable tenants. It was musty and mouldy, but here they were
elevated somewhat above the noise and dust of the street, and had
sunlight and a good view from the narrow windows.

It was here that, late one evening, Mr. R. H. Stoddard, whose sarcastic
pen is so well known, called on Poe inste