she dresses the balance. And when, dressing the balance, she conquers prejudices, especially those prejudices that divide classes and sections, she does a profoundly moral work. Poe long since exchanged "these voices" for "peace."
He has outsoared the shadow of our night.
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not, and torture not again.
What are our praise or blame to him? But what are they not to ourselves? He can dispense with editions and monographs, with monuments and portraits and celebrations. We cannot dispense with them because they are needed for the full expression of those sentiments of sympathy and gratitude, of generosity and justice without which we should be unworthy of our heritage of civilization. Yes—the fact that in two generations we as a people have made a not inconsiderable progress toward attaining an adequately sympathetic and just appreciation of the life and works of the poet we are honoring tonight is a fact we can scarcely over-emphasize, a fact for which we can scarcely be too thankful.
If, however, we would be thoroughly just, we must take some account of what the men and women who do not join us in honoring Poe or are grudging in their praise have to say in their own behalf. Why is it that the author of one of the best books we have on our poet told someone that he had to take a trip to Italy in order to get the taste of Poe out of his mouth? A Frenchman got satisfaction from praying to Poe, but although Poe is generally be-
