The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2


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"I am aware," said the traveller, as he drew a sigh of deep delight  
after gazing on this scene, entranced, for nearly an hour, "I know that  
here, in my circumstances, nine-tenths of the most fastidious of men  
would rest content. This panorama is indeed glorious, and I should  
rejoice in it but for the excess of its glory. The taste of all the  
architects I have ever known leads them, for the sake of 'prospect,' to  
put up buildings on hill-tops. The error is obvious. Grandeur in any of  
its moods, but especially in that of extent, startles, excites--and then  
fatigues, depresses. For the occasional scene nothing can be better--for  
the constant view nothing worse. And, in the constant view, the most  
objectionable phase of grandeur is that of extent; the worst phase of  
extent, that of distance. It is at war with the sentiment and with the  
sense of seclusion--the sentiment and sense which we seek to humor in  
'retiring to the country.' In looking from the summit of a mountain we  
cannot help feeling abroad in the world. The heart-sick avoid distant  
prospects as a pestilence."  
It was not until toward the close of the fourth year of our search that  
we found a locality with which Ellison professed himself satisfied. It  
is, of course, needless to say where was the locality. The late death of  
my friend, in causing his domain to be thrown open to certain classes  
of visiters, has given to Arnheim a species of secret and subdued if  
not solemn celebrity, similar in kind, although infinitely superior in  
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