{"id":27188,"date":"2026-03-26T21:53:51","date_gmt":"2026-03-27T01:53:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/?p=27188"},"modified":"2026-03-27T18:07:05","modified_gmt":"2026-03-27T22:07:05","slug":"edgar-allan-poe-the-purloined-letter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/short-stories\/edgar-allan-poe-the-purloined-letter\/27188\/","title":{"rendered":"Edgar Allan Poe: The Purloined Letter"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Synopsis:<\/strong> \u201cThe Purloined Letter\u201d is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe, published in September 1844 in The Gift for 1845<\/em>. In Paris, the police prefect visits detective C. Auguste Dupin to consult him on a case that has him baffled: a letter of enormous political importance has been stolen right under its owner\u2019s nose by Minister D\u2026, who is using it to blackmail her. Although the police have thoroughly searched the alleged thief\u2019s mansion, the letter remains missing. Faced with the failure of conventional methods, the prefect turns to Dupin\u2019s ingenuity, who will use his unique analytical skills to solve the mystery.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"Edgar<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

The Purloined Letter<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Edgar Allan Poe
(Full story)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio<\/em>.
\u2014Seneca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AT PARIS, JUST AFTER dark one gusty evening in the autumn of 18\u2014, I was enjoying the twofold luxury of meditation and a meerschaum, in company with my friend C. Auguste Dupin, in his little back library, or book-closet, au troisi\u00e8me, No. 33, Rue Dunot, Faubourg St. Germain. For one hour at least we had maintained a profound silence; while each, to any casual observer, might have seemed intently and exclusively occupied with the curling eddies of smoke that oppressed the atmosphere of the chamber. For myself, however, I was mentally discussing certain topics which had formed matter for conversation between us at an earlier period of the evening; I mean the affair of the Rue Morgue, and the mystery attending the murder of Marie Rog\u00eat. I looked upon it, therefore, as something of a coincidence, when the door of our apartment was thrown open and admitted our old acquaintance, Monsieur G\u2014, the Prefect of the Parisian police.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We gave him a hearty welcome; for there was nearly half as much of the entertaining as of the contemptible about the man, and we had not seen him for several years. We had been sitting in the dark, and Dupin now arose for the purpose of lighting a lamp, but sat down again, without doing so, upon G.\u2019s saying that he had called to consult us, or rather to ask the opinion of my friend, about some official business which had occasioned a great deal of trouble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf it is any point requiring reflection,\u201d observed Dupin, as he forebore to enkindle the wick, \u201cwe shall examine it to better purpose in the dark.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat is another of your odd notions,\u201d said the Prefect, who had a fashion of calling every thing \u201codd\u201d that was beyond his comprehension, and thus lived amid an absolute legion of \u201coddities.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVery true,\u201d said Dupin, as he supplied his visiter with a pipe, and rolled towards him a comfortable chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd what is the difficulty now?\u201d I asked. \u201cNothing more in the assassination way, I hope?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh no; nothing of that nature. The fact is, the business is very simple indeed, and I make no doubt that we can manage it sufficiently well ourselves; but then I thought Dupin would like to hear the details of it, because it is so excessively odd.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSimple and odd,\u201d said Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, yes; and not exactly that, either. The fact is, we have all been a good deal puzzled because the affair is so simple, and yet baffles us altogether.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPerhaps it is the very simplicity of the thing which puts you at fault,\u201d said my friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat nonsense you do talk!\u201d replied the Prefect, laughing heartily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPerhaps the mystery is a little too plain,\u201d said Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, good heavens! who ever heard of such an idea?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA little too self-evident.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa! ha! ha\u2014ha! ha! ha!\u2014ho! ho! ho!\u201d roared our visiter, profoundly amused, \u201coh, Dupin, you will be the death of me yet!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd what, after all, is the matter on hand?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, I will tell you,\u201d replied the Prefect, as he gave a long, steady and contemplative puff, and settled himself in his chair. \u201cI will tell you in a few words; but, before I begin, let me caution you that this is an affair demanding the greatest secrecy, and that I should most probably lose the position I now hold, were it known that I confided it to any one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cProceed,\u201d said I.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOr not,\u201d said Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, then; I have received personal information, from a very high quarter, that a certain document of the last importance, has been purloined from the royal apartments. The individual who purloined it is known; this beyond a doubt; he was seen to take it. It is known, also, that it still remains in his possession.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow is this known?\u201d asked Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is clearly inferred,\u201d replied the Prefect, \u201cfrom the nature of the document, and from the non-appearance of certain results which would at once arise from its passing out of the robber\u2019s possession; that is to say, from his employing it as he must design in the end to employ it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBe a little more explicit,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I may venture so far as to say that the paper gives its holder a certain power in a certain quarter where such power is immensely valuable.\u201d The Prefect was fond of the cant of diplomacy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStill I do not quite understand,\u201d said Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo? Well; the disclosure of the document to a third person, who shall be nameless, would bring in question the honor of a personage of most exalted station; and this fact gives the holder of the document an ascendancy over the illustrious personage whose honor and peace are so jeopardized.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut this ascendancy,\u201d I interposed, \u201cwould depend upon the robber\u2019s knowledge of the loser\u2019s knowledge of the robber. Who would dare\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe thief,\u201d said G., \u201cis the Minister D\u2014, who dares all things, those unbecoming as well as those becoming a man. The method of the theft was not less ingenious than bold. The document in question\u2014a letter, to be frank\u2014had been received by the personage robbed while alone in the royal boudoir. During its perusal she was suddenly interrupted by the entrance of the other exalted personage from whom especially it was her wish to conceal it. After a hurried and vain endeavor to thrust it in a drawer, she was forced to place it, open as it was, upon a table. The address, however, was uppermost, and, the contents thus unexposed, the letter escaped notice. At this juncture enters the Minister D\u2014. His lynx eye immediately perceives the paper, recognises the handwriting of the address, observes the confusion of the personage addressed, and fathoms her secret. After some business transactions, hurried through in his ordinary manner, he produces a letter somewhat similar to the one in question, opens it, pretends to read it, and then places it in close juxtaposition to the other. Again he converses, for some fifteen minutes, upon the public affairs. At length, in taking leave, he takes also from the table the letter to which he had no claim. Its rightful owner saw, but, of course, dared not call attention to the act, in the presence of the third personage who stood at her elbow. The minister decamped; leaving his own letter\u2014one of no importance\u2014upon the table.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHere, then,\u201d said Dupin to me, \u201cyou have precisely what you demand to make the ascendancy complete\u2014the robber\u2019s knowledge of the loser\u2019s knowledge of the robber.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d replied the Prefect; \u201cand the power thus attained has, for some months past, been wielded, for political purposes, to a very dangerous extent. The personage robbed is more thoroughly convinced, every day, of the necessity of reclaiming her letter. But this, of course, cannot be done openly. In fine, driven to despair, she has committed the matter to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThan whom,\u201d said Dupin, amid a perfect whirlwind of smoke, \u201cno more sagacious agent could, I suppose, be desired, or even imagined.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou flatter me,\u201d replied the Prefect; \u201cbut it is possible that some such opinion may have been entertained.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is clear,\u201d said I, \u201cas you observe, that the letter is still in possession of the minister; since it is this possession, and not any employment of the letter, which bestows the power. With the employment the power departs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue,\u201d said G.; \u201cand upon this conviction I proceeded. My first care was to make thorough search of the minister\u2019s hotel; and here my chief embarrassment lay in the necessity of searching without his knowledge. Beyond all things, I have been warned of the danger which would result from giving him reason to suspect our design.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut,\u201d said I, \u201cyou are quite au fait in these investigations. The Parisian police have done this thing often before.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cO yes; and for this reason I did not despair. The habits of the minister gave me, too, a great advantage. He is frequently absent from home all night. His servants are by no means numerous. They sleep at a distance from their master\u2019s apartment, and, being chiefly Neapolitans, are readily made drunk. I have keys, as you know, with which I can open any chamber or cabinet in Paris. For three months a night has not passed, during the greater part of which I have not been engaged, personally, in ransacking the D\u2014Hotel. My honor is interested, and, to mention a great secret, the reward is enormous. So I did not abandon the search until I had become fully satisfied that the thief is a more astute man than myself. I fancy that I have investigated every nook and corner of the premises in which it is possible that the paper can be concealed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut is it not possible,\u201d I suggested, \u201cthat although the letter may be in possession of the minister, as it unquestionably is, he may have concealed it elsewhere than upon his own premises?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is barely possible,\u201d said Dupin. \u201cThe present peculiar condition of affairs at court, and especially of those intrigues in which D\u2014is known to be involved, would render the instant availability of the document\u2014its susceptibility of being produced at a moment\u2019s notice\u2014a point of nearly equal importance with its possession.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIts susceptibility of being produced?\u201d said I.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat is to say, of being destroyed,\u201d said Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue,\u201d I observed; \u201cthe paper is clearly then upon the premises. As for its being upon the person of the minister, we may consider that as out of the question.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cEntirely,\u201d said the Prefect. \u201cHe has been twice waylaid, as if by footpads, and his person rigorously searched under my own inspection.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou might have spared yourself this trouble,\u201d said Dupin. \u201cD\u2014, I presume, is not altogether a fool, and, if not, must have anticipated these waylayings, as a matter of course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot altogether a fool,\u201d said G., \u201cbut then he\u2019s a poet, which I take to be only one remove from a fool.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTrue,\u201d said Dupin, after a long and thoughtful whiff from his meerschaum, \u201calthough I have been guilty of certain doggrel myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSuppose you detail,\u201d said I, \u201cthe particulars of your search.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy the fact is, we took our time, and we searched every where. I have had long experience in these affairs. I took the entire building, room by room; devoting the nights of a whole week to each. We examined, first, the furniture of each apartment. We opened every possible drawer; and I presume you know that, to a properly trained police agent, such a thing as a secret drawer is impossible. Any man is a dolt who permits a \u2018secret\u2019 drawer to escape him in a search of this kind. The thing is so plain. There is a certain amount of bulk\u2014of space\u2014to be accounted for in every cabinet. Then we have accurate rules. The fiftieth part of a line could not escape us. After the cabinets we took the chairs. The cushions we probed with the fine long needles you have seen me employ. From the tables we removed the tops.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy so?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSometimes the top of a table, or other similarly arranged piece of furniture, is removed by the person wishing to conceal an article; then the leg is excavated, the article deposited within the cavity, and the top replaced. The bottoms and tops of bedposts are employed in the same way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut could not the cavity be detected by sounding?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBy no means, if, when the article is deposited, a sufficient wadding of cotton be placed around it. Besides, in our case, we were obliged to proceed without noise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut you could not have removed\u2014you could not have taken to pieces all articles of furniture in which it would have been possible to make a deposit in the manner you mention. A letter may be compressed into a thin spiral roll, not differing much in shape or bulk from a large knitting-needle, and in this form it might be inserted into the rung of a chair, for example. You did not take to pieces all the chairs?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCertainly not; but we did better\u2014we examined the rungs of every chair in the hotel, and, indeed the jointings of every description of furniture, by the aid of a most powerful microscope. Had there been any traces of recent disturbance we should not have failed to detect it instantly. A single grain of gimlet-dust, for example, would have been as obvious as an apple. Any disorder in the glueing\u2014any unusual gaping in the joints\u2014would have sufficed to insure detection.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI presume you looked to the mirrors, between the boards and the plates, and you probed the beds and the bed-clothes, as well as the curtains and carpets.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat of course; and when we had absolutely completed every particle of the furniture in this way, then we examined the house itself. We divided its entire surface into compartments, which we numbered, so that none might be missed; then we scrutinized each individual square inch throughout the premises, including the two houses immediately adjoining, with the microscope, as before.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe two houses adjoining!\u201d I exclaimed; \u201cyou must have had a great deal of trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe had; but the reward offered is prodigious!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou include the grounds about the houses?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll the grounds are paved with brick. They gave us comparatively little trouble. We examined the moss between the bricks, and found it undisturbed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou looked among D\u2014\u2019s papers, of course, and into the books of the library?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCertainly; we opened every package and parcel; we not only opened every book, but we turned over every leaf in each volume, not contenting ourselves with a mere shake, according to the fashion of some of our police officers. We also measured the thickness of every book-cover, with the most accurate admeasurement, and applied to each the most jealous scrutiny of the microscope. Had any of the bindings been recently meddled with, it would have been utterly impossible that the fact should have escaped observation. Some five or six volumes, just from the hands of the binder, we carefully probed, longitudinally, with the needles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou explored the floors beneath the carpets?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBeyond doubt. We removed every carpet, and examined the boards with the microscope.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd the paper on the walls?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou looked into the cellars?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen,\u201d I said, \u201cyou have been making a miscalculation, and the letter is not upon the premises, as you suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI fear you are right there,\u201d said the Prefect. \u201cAnd now, Dupin, what would you advise me to do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo make a thorough re-search of the premises.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat is absolutely needless,\u201d replied G\u2014. \u201cI am not more sure that I breathe than I am that the letter is not at the Hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have no better advice to give you,\u201d said Dupin. \u201cYou have, of course, an accurate description of the letter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh yes!\u201d\u2014And here the Prefect, producing a memorandum-book proceeded to read aloud a minute account of the internal, and especially of the external appearance of the missing document. Soon after finishing the perusal of this description, he took his departure, more entirely depressed in spirits than I had ever known the good gentleman before. In about a month afterwards he paid us another visit, and found us occupied very nearly as before. He took a pipe and a chair and entered into some ordinary conversation. At length I said,\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, but G\u2014, what of the purloined letter? I presume you have at last made up your mind that there is no such thing as overreaching the Minister?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cConfound him, say I\u2014yes; I made the re-examination, however, as Dupin suggested\u2014but it was all labor lost, as I knew it would be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow much was the reward offered, did you say?\u201d asked Dupin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, a very great deal\u2014a very liberal reward\u2014I don\u2019t like to say how much, precisely; but one thing I will say, that I wouldn\u2019t mind giving my individual check for fifty thousand francs to any one who could obtain me that letter. The fact is, it is becoming of more and more importance every day; and the reward has been lately doubled. If it were trebled, however, I could do no more than I have done.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy, yes,\u201d said Dupin, drawlingly, between the whiffs of his meerschaum, \u201cI really\u2014think, G\u2014, you have not exerted yourself\u2014to the utmost in this matter. You might\u2014do a little more, I think, eh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow?\u2014in what way?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy\u2014puff, puff\u2014you might\u2014puff, puff\u2014employ counsel in the matter, eh?\u2014puff, puff, puff. Do you remember the story they tell of Abernethy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo; hang Abernethy!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo be sure! hang him and welcome. But, once upon a time, a certain rich miser conceived the design of spunging upon this Abernethy for a medical opinion. Getting up, for this purpose, an ordinary conversation in a private company, he insinuated his case to the physician, as that of an imaginary individual.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018We will suppose,\u2019 said the miser, \u2018that his symptoms are such and such; now, doctor, what would you have directed him to take?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Take!\u2019 said Abernethy, \u2018why, take advice, to be sure.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut,\u201d said the Prefect, a little discomposed, \u201cI am perfectly willing to take advice, and to pay for it. I would really give fifty thousand francs to any one who would aid me in the matter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn that case,\u201d replied Dupin, opening a drawer, and producing a check-book, \u201cyou may as well fill me up a check for the amount mentioned. When you have signed it, I will hand you the letter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was astounded. The Prefect appeared absolutely thunder-stricken. For some minutes he remained speechless and motionless, looking incredulously at my friend with open mouth, and eyes that seemed starting from their sockets; then, apparently recovering himself in some measure, he seized a pen, and after several pauses and vacant stares, finally filled up and signed a check for fifty thousand francs, and handed it across the table to Dupin. The latter examined it carefully and deposited it in his pocket-book; then, unlocking an escritoire, took thence a letter and gave it to the Prefect. This functionary grasped it in a perfect agony of joy, opened it with a trembling hand, cast a rapid glance at its contents, and then, scrambling and struggling to the door, rushed at length unceremoniously from the room and from the house, without having uttered a syllable since Dupin had requested him to fill up the check.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he had gone, my friend entered into some explanations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe Parisian police,\u201d he said, \u201care exceedingly able in their way. They are persevering, ingenious, cunning, and thoroughly versed in the knowledge which their duties seem chiefly to demand. Thus, when G\u2014detailed to us his mode of searching the premises at the Hotel D\u2014, I felt entire confidence in his having made a satisfactory investigation\u2014so far as his labors extended.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo far as his labors extended?\u201d said I.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said Dupin. \u201cThe measures adopted were not only the best of their kind, but carried out to absolute perfection. Had the letter been deposited within the range of their search, these fellows would, beyond a question, have found it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I merely laughed\u2014but he seemed quite serious in all that he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe measures, then,\u201d he continued, \u201cwere good in their kind, and well executed; their defect lay in their being inapplicable to the case, and to the man. A certain set of highly ingenious resources are, with the Prefect, a sort of Procrustean bed, to which he forcibly adapts his designs. But he perpetually errs by being too deep or too shallow, for the matter in hand; and many a schoolboy is a better reasoner than he. I knew one about eight years of age, whose success at guessing in the game of \u2018even and odd\u2019 attracted universal admiration. This game is simple, and is played with marbles. One player holds in his hand a number of these toys, and demands of another whether that number is even or odd. If the guess is right, the guesser wins one; if wrong, he loses one. The boy to whom I allude won all the marbles of the school. Of course he had some principle of guessing; and this lay in mere observation and admeasurement of the astuteness of his opponents. For example, an arrant simpleton is his opponent, and, holding up his closed hand, asks, \u2018are they even or odd?\u2019 Our schoolboy replies, \u2018odd,\u2019 and loses; but upon the second trial he wins, for he then says to himself, \u2018the simpleton had them even upon the first trial, and his amount of cunning is just sufficient to make him have them odd upon the second; I will therefore guess odd;\u2019\u2014he guesses odd, and wins. Now, with a simpleton a degree above the first, he would have reasoned thus: \u2018This fellow finds that in the first instance I guessed odd, and, in the second, he will propose to himself, upon the first impulse, a simple variation from even to odd, as did the first simpleton; but then a second thought will suggest that this is too simple a variation, and finally he will decide upon putting it even as before. I will therefore guess even;\u2019\u2014he guesses even, and wins. Now this mode of reasoning in the schoolboy, whom his fellows termed \u2018lucky,\u2019\u2014what, in its last analysis, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is merely,\u201d I said, \u201can identification of the reasoner\u2019s intellect with that of his opponent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is,\u201d said Dupin; \u201cand, upon inquiring of the boy by what means he effected the thorough identification in which his success consisted, I received answer as follows: \u2018When I wish to find out how wise, or how stupid, or how good, or how wicked is any one, or what are his thoughts at the moment, I fashion the expression of my face, as accurately as possible, in accordance with the expression of his, and then wait to see what thoughts or sentiments arise in my mind or heart, as if to match or correspond with the expression.\u2019 This response of the schoolboy lies at the bottom of all the spurious profundity which has been attributed to Rochefoucauld, to La Bruy\u00e8re, to Machiavelli, and to Campanella.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd the identification,\u201d I said, \u201cof the reasoner\u2019s intellect with that of his opponent, depends, if I understand you aright, upon the accuracy with which the opponent\u2019s intellect is admeasured.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor its practical value it depends upon this,\u201d replied Dupin; \u201cand the Prefect and his cohort fail so frequently, first, by default of this identification, and, secondly, by ill-admeasurement, or rather through non-admeasurement, of the intellect with which they are engaged. They consider only their own ideas of ingenuity; and, in searching for anything hidden, advert only to the modes in which they would have hidden it. They are right in this much\u2014that their own ingenuity is a faithful representative of that of the mass; but when the cunning of the individual felon is diverse in character from their own, the felon foils them, of course. This always happens when it is above their own, and very usually when it is below. They have no variation of principle in their investigations; at best, when urged by some unusual emergency\u2014by some extraordinary reward\u2014they extend or exaggerate their old modes of practice, without touching their principles. What, for example, in this case of D\u2014, has been done to vary the principle of action? What is all this boring, and probing, and sounding, and scrutinizing with the microscope and dividing the surface of the building into registered square inches\u2014what is it all but an exaggeration of the application of the one principle or set of principles of search, which are based upon the one set of notions regarding human ingenuity, to which the Prefect, in the long routine of his duty, has been accustomed? Do you not see he has taken it for granted that all men proceed to conceal a letter,\u2014not exactly in a gimlet hole bored in a chair-leg\u2014but, at least, in some out-of-the-way hole or corner suggested by the same tenor of thought which would urge a man to secrete a letter in a gimlet-hole bored in a chair-leg? And do you not see also, that such recherch\u00e9s nooks for concealment are adapted only for ordinary occasions, and would be adopted only by ordinary intellects; for, in all cases of concealment, a disposal of the article concealed\u2014a disposal of it in this recherch\u00e9 manner,\u2014is, in the very first instance, presumable and presumed; and thus its discovery depends, not at all upon the acumen, but altogether upon the mere care, patience, and determination of the seekers; and where the case is of importance\u2014or, what amounts to the same thing in the policial eyes, when the reward is of magnitude,\u2014the qualities in question have never been known to fail. You will now understand what I meant in suggesting that, had the purloined letter been hidden any where within the limits of the Prefect\u2019s examination\u2014in other words, had the principle of its concealment been comprehended within the principles of the Prefect\u2014its discovery would have been a matter altogether beyond question. This functionary, however, has been thoroughly mystified; and the remote source of his defeat lies in the supposition that the Minister is a fool, because he has acquired renown as a poet. All fools are poets; this the Prefect feels; and he is merely guilty of a non distributio medii in thence inferring that all poets are fools.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut is this really the poet?\u201d I asked. \u201cThere are two brothers, I know; and both have attained reputation in letters. The Minister I believe has written learnedly on the Differential Calculus. He is a mathematician, and no poet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are mistaken; I know him well; he is both. As poet and mathematician, he would reason well; as mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all, and thus would have been at the mercy of the Prefect.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou surprise me,\u201d I said, \u201cby these opinions, which have been contradicted by the voice of the world. You do not mean to set at naught the well-digested idea of centuries. The mathematical reason has long been regarded as the reason par excellence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018Il y a \u00e0 parier,\u2019\u201d replied Dupin, quoting from Chamfort, \u201c\u2018que toute id\u00e9e publique, toute convention re\u00e7ue est une sottise, car elle a convenu au plus grand nombre.\u2019 The mathematicians, I grant you, have done their best to promulgate the popular error to which you allude, and which is none the less an error for its promulgation as truth. With an art worthy a better cause, for example, they have insinuated the term \u2018analysis\u2019 into application to algebra. The French are the originators of this particular deception; but if a term is of any importance\u2014if words derive any value from applicability\u2014then \u2018analysis\u2019 conveys \u2018algebra\u2019 about as much as, in Latin, \u2018ambitus\u2019 implies \u2018ambition,\u2019 \u2018religio\u2019 \u2018religion,\u2019 or \u2018homines honesti,\u2019 a set of honorable men.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have a quarrel on hand, I see,\u201d said I, \u201cwith some of the algebraists of Paris; but proceed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI dispute the availability, and thus the value, of that reason which is cultivated in any especial form other than the abstractly logical. I dispute, in particular, the reason educed by mathematical study. The mathematics are the science of form and quantity; mathematical reasoning is merely logic applied to observation upon form and quantity. The great error lies in supposing that even the truths of what is called pure algebra, are abstract or general truths. And this error is so egregious that I am confounded at the universality with which it has been received. Mathematical axioms are not axioms of general truth. What is true of relation\u2014of form and quantity\u2014is often grossly false in regard to morals, for example. In this latter science it is very usually untrue that the aggregated parts are equal to the whole. In chemistry also the axiom fails. In the consideration of motive it fails; for two motives, each of a given value, have not, necessarily, a value when united, equal to the sum of their values apart. There are numerous other mathematical truths which are only truths within the limits of relation. But the mathematician argues, from his finite truths, through habit, as if they were of an absolutely general applicability\u2014as the world indeed imagines them to be. Bryant, in his very learned \u2018Mythology,\u2019 mentions an analogous source of error, when he says that \u2018although the Pagan fables are not believed, yet we forget ourselves continually, and make inferences from them as existing realities.\u2019 With the algebraists, however, who are Pagans themselves, the \u2018Pagan fables\u2019 are believed, and the inferences are made, not so much through lapse of memory, as through an unaccountable addling of the brains. In short, I never yet encountered the mere mathematician who could be trusted out of equal roots, or one who did not clandestinely hold it as a point of his faith that x2<\/sup>+px was absolutely and unconditionally equal to q. Say to one of these gentlemen, by way of experiment, if you please, that you believe occasions may occur where x2<\/sup>+px is not altogether equal to q, and, having made him understand what you mean, get out of his reach as speedily as convenient, for, beyond doubt, he will endeavor to knock you down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI mean to say,\u201d continued Dupin, while I merely laughed at his last observations, \u201cthat if the Minister had been no more than a mathematician, the Prefect would have been under no necessity of giving me this check. I know him, however, as both mathematician and poet, and my measures were adapted to his capacity, with reference to the circumstances by which he was surrounded. I knew him as a courtier, too, and as a bold intriguant. Such a man, I considered, could not fail to be aware of the ordinary policial modes of action. He could not have failed to anticipate\u2014and events have proved that he did not fail to anticipate\u2014the waylayings to which he was subjected. He must have foreseen, I reflected, the secret investigations of his premises. His frequent absences from home at night, which were hailed by the Prefect as certain aids to his success, I regarded only as ruses, to afford opportunity for thorough search to the police, and thus the sooner to impress them with the conviction to which G\u2014, in fact, did finally arrive\u2014the conviction that the letter was not upon the premises. I felt, also, that the whole train of thought, which I was at some pains in detailing to you just now, concerning the invariable principle of policial action in searches for articles concealed\u2014I felt that this whole train of thought would necessarily pass through the mind of the Minister. It would imperatively lead him to despise all the ordinary nooks of concealment. He could not, I reflected, be so weak as not to see that the most intricate and remote recess of his hotel would be as open as his commonest closets to the eyes, to the probes, to the gimlets, and to the microscopes of the Prefect. I saw, in fine, that he would be driven, as a matter of course, to simplicity, if not deliberately induced to it as a matter of choice. You will remember, perhaps, how desperately the Prefect laughed when I suggested, upon our first interview, that it was just possible this mystery troubled him so much on account of its being so very self-evident.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d said I, \u201cI remember his merriment well. I really thought he would have fallen into convulsions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe material world,\u201d continued Dupin, \u201cabounds with very strict analogies to the immaterial; and thus some color of truth has been given to the rhetorical dogma, that metaphor, or simile, may be made to strengthen an argument, as well as to embellish a description. The principle of the vis inerti\u00e6, for example, seems to be identical in physics and metaphysics. It is not more true in the former, that a large body is with more difficulty set in motion than a smaller one, and that its subsequent momentum is commensurate with this difficulty, than it is, in the latter, that intellects of the vaster capacity, while more forcible, more constant, and more eventful in their movements than those of inferior grade, are yet the less readily moved, and more embarrassed and full of hesitation in the first few steps of their progress. Again: have you ever noticed which of the street signs, over the shop-doors, are the most attractive of attention?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have never given the matter a thought,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere is a game of puzzles,\u201d he resumed, \u201cwhich is played upon a map. One party playing requires another to find a given word\u2014the name of town, river, state or empire\u2014any word, in short, upon the motley and perplexed surface of the chart. A novice in the game generally seeks to embarrass his opponents by giving them the most minutely lettered names; but the adept selects such words as stretch, in large characters, from one end of the chart to the other. These, like the over-largely lettered signs and placards of the street, escape observation by dint of being excessively obvious; and here the physical oversight is precisely analogous with the moral inapprehension by which the intellect suffers to pass unnoticed those considerations which are too obtrusively and too palpably self-evident. But this is a point, it appears, somewhat above or beneath the understanding of the Prefect. He never once thought it probable, or possible, that the Minister had deposited the letter immediately beneath the nose of the whole world, by way of best preventing any portion of that world from perceiving it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut the more I reflected upon the daring, dashing, and discriminating ingenuity of D\u2014; upon the fact that the document must always have been at hand, if he intended to use it to good purpose; and upon the decisive evidence, obtained by the Prefect, that it was not hidden within the limits of that dignitary\u2019s ordinary search\u2014the more satisfied I became that, to conceal this letter, the Minister had resorted to the comprehensive and sagacious expedient of not attempting to conceal it at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFull of these ideas, I prepared myself with a pair of green spectacles, and called one fine morning, quite by accident, at the Ministerial hotel. I found D\u2014at home, yawning, lounging, and dawdling, as usual, and pretending to be in the last extremity of ennui. He is, perhaps, the most really energetic human being now alive\u2014but that is only when nobody sees him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo be even with him, I complained of my weak eyes, and lamented the necessity of the spectacles, under cover of which I cautiously and thoroughly surveyed the whole apartment, while seemingly intent only upon the conversation of my host.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI paid especial attention to a large writing-table near which he sat, and upon which lay confusedly, some miscellaneous letters and other papers, with one or two musical instruments and a few books. Here, however, after a long and very deliberate scrutiny, I saw nothing to excite particular suspicion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt length my eyes, in going the circuit of the room, fell upon a trumpery fillagree card-rack of pasteboard, that hung dangling by a dirty blue ribbon, from a little brass knob just beneath the middle of the mantel-piece. In this rack, which had three or four compartments, were five or six visiting cards and a solitary letter. This last was much soiled and crumpled. It was torn nearly in two, across the middle\u2014as if a design, in the first instance, to tear it entirely up as worthless, had been altered, or stayed, in the second. It had a large black seal, bearing the D\u2014cipher very conspicuously, and was addressed, in a diminutive female hand, to D\u2014, the minister, himself. It was thrust carelessly, and even, as it seemed, contemptuously, into one of the uppermost divisions of the rack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo sooner had I glanced at this letter, than I concluded it to be that of which I was in search. To be sure, it was, to all appearance, radically different from the one of which the Prefect had read us so minute a description. Here the seal was large and black, with the D\u2014cipher; there it was small and red, with the ducal arms of the S\u2014family. Here, the address, to the Minister, diminutive and feminine; there the superscription, to a certain royal personage, was markedly bold and decided; the size alone formed a point of correspondence. But, then, the radicalness of these differences, which was excessive; the dirt; the soiled and torn condition of the paper, so inconsistent with the true methodical habits of D\u2014, and so suggestive of a design to delude the beholder into an idea of the worthlessness of the document; these things, together with the hyper-obtrusive situation of this document, full in the view of every visiter, and thus exactly in accordance with the conclusions to which I had previously arrived; these things, I say, were strongly corroborative of suspicion, in one who came with the intention to suspect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI protracted my visit as long as possible, and, while I maintained a most animated discussion with the Minister upon a topic which I knew well had never failed to interest and excite him, I kept my attention really riveted upon the letter. In this examination, I committed to memory its external appearance and arrangement in the rack; and also fell, at length, upon a discovery which set at rest whatever trivial doubt I might have entertained. In scrutinizing the edges of the paper, I observed them to be more chafed than seemed necessary. They presented the broken appearance which is manifested when a stiff paper, having been once folded and pressed with a folder, is refolded in a reversed direction, in the same creases or edges which had formed the original fold. This discovery was sufficient. It was clear to me that the letter had been turned, as a glove, inside out, re-directed, and re-sealed. I bade the Minister good morning, and took my departure at once, leaving a gold snuff-box upon the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe next morning I called for the snuff-box, when we resumed, quite eagerly, the conversation of the preceding day. While thus engaged, however, a loud report, as if of a pistol, was heard immediately beneath the windows of the hotel, and was succeeded by a series of fearful screams, and the shoutings of a terrified mob. D\u2014rushed to a casement, threw it open, and looked out. In the meantime, I stepped to the card-rack, took the letter, put it in my pocket, and replaced it by a fac-simile, (so far as regards externals,) which I had carefully prepared at my lodgings\u2014imitating the D\u2014cipher, very readily, by means of a seal formed of bread.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe disturbance in the street had been occasioned by the frantic behavior of a man with a musket. He had fired it among a crowd of women and children. It proved, however, to have been without ball, and the fellow was suffered to go his way as a lunatic or a drunkard. When he had gone, D\u2014came from the window, whither I had followed him immediately upon securing the object in view. Soon afterwards I bade him farewell. The pretended lunatic was a man in my own pay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut what purpose had you,\u201d I asked, \u201cin replacing the letter by a fac-simile? Would it not have been better, at the first visit, to have seized it openly, and departed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cD\u2014,\u201d replied Dupin, \u201cis a desperate man, and a man of nerve. His hotel, too, is not without attendants devoted to his interests. Had I made the wild attempt you suggest, I might never have left the Ministerial presence alive. The good people of Paris might have heard of me no more. But I had an object apart from these considerations. You know my political prepossessions. In this matter, I act as a partisan of the lady concerned. For eighteen months the Minister has had her in his power. She has now him in hers\u2014since, being unaware that the letter is not in his possession, he will proceed with his exactions as if it was. Thus will he inevitably commit himself, at once, to his political destruction. His downfall, too, will not be more precipitate than awkward. It is all very well to talk about the facilis descensus Averni; but in all kinds of climbing, as Catalani said of singing, it is far more easy to get up than to come down. In the present instance I have no sympathy\u2014at least no pity\u2014for him who descends. He is that monstrum horrendum, an unprincipled man of genius. I confess, however, that I should like very well to know the precise character of his thoughts, when, being defied by her whom the Prefect terms \u2018a certain personage\u2019 he is reduced to opening the letter which I left for him in the card-rack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow? did you put any thing particular in it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy\u2014it did not seem altogether right to leave the interior blank\u2014that would have been insulting. D\u2014, at Vienna once, did me an evil turn, which I told him, quite good-humoredly, that I should remember. So, as I knew he would feel some curiosity in regard to the identity of the person who had outwitted him, I thought it a pity not to give him a clue. He is well acquainted with my MS., and I just copied into the middle of the blank sheet the words\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2018\u2014\u2014Un dessein si funeste, S\u2019il n\u2019est digne d\u2019Atr\u00e9e, est digne de Thyeste. They are to be found in Crebillon\u2019s \u2018Atr\u00e9e.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE END<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe Purloined Letter\u201d is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe, published in September 1844 in The Gift for 1845. In Paris, the police prefect visits detective C. Auguste Dupin to consult him on a case that has him baffled: a letter of enormous political importance has been stolen right under its owner\u2019s nose by Minister D\u2026, who is using it to blackmail her. Although the police have thoroughly searched the alleged thief\u2019s mansion, the letter remains missing. Faced with the failure of conventional methods, the prefect turns to Dupin\u2019s ingenuity, who will use his unique analytical skills to solve the mystery.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":27187,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[559],"tags":[591,586,630,570],"class_list":["post-27188","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-short-stories","tag-crime","tag-edgar-allan-poe-en","tag-realism","tag-united-states","generate-columns","tablet-grid-50","mobile-grid-100","grid-parent","grid-33"],"acf":[],"taxonomy_info":{"category":[{"value":559,"label":"Short stories"}],"post_tag":[{"value":591,"label":"Crime"},{"value":586,"label":"Edgar Allan Poe"},{"value":630,"label":"Realism"},{"value":570,"label":"United States"}]},"featured_image_src_large":["https:\/\/lecturia.org\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/03\/Edgar-Allan-Poe-La-carta-robada.webp",1024,1024,false],"author_info":{"display_name":"Juan Pablo Guevara","author_link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/author\/spartakku\/"},"comment_info":"","category_info":[{"term_id":559,"name":"Short stories","slug":"short-stories","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":559,"taxonomy":"category","description":"","parent":0,"count":419,"filter":"raw","cat_ID":559,"category_count":419,"category_description":"","cat_name":"Short stories","category_nicename":"short-stories","category_parent":0}],"tag_info":[{"term_id":591,"name":"Crime","slug":"crime","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":591,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":8,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":586,"name":"Edgar Allan Poe","slug":"edgar-allan-poe-en","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":586,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":28,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":630,"name":"Realism","slug":"realism","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":630,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":52,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":570,"name":"United States","slug":"united-states","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":570,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":294,"filter":"raw"}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27188","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=27188"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27188\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":27201,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27188\/revisions\/27201"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/27187"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=27188"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=27188"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=27188"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}