Hidden in Plain Sight
Purloined Letter, I hid a letter in plain sight of the police. Despite numerous, exhaustive, searches of
the thief’s apartment, the police failed to find the object of their
search. Why? Because I showed them what they wanted to see by i.) offering
many possible hiding places and ii.) leaving the desired letter, albeit with
alterations disguising it’s original appearance, right under their noses. Since the police, by training and
experience, were conditioned to search in hidden
locations, they ignored the disguised letter placed in plain sight.
It may be that I have hidden the solution to The Beale Papers in plain sight. Perhaps the ciphers are merely bait for the
unwary, who can say?
Acrostics and Other Secret
Can you find my valentine in this poem?
For her these lines are
penned, whose luminous eyes,
expressive as the twins of Loeda,
find her own sweet name that, nestling, lies
this page, enwrapped from every reader.
narrowly this rhyme, which holds a treasure
– a talisman—an amulet
be worn at heart. Search well the
words – the letters themselves. Do not
trvialest point, or you may lose your labor.
yet there is in this no Gordian knot
might not undo without a sabre,
one could merely understand the plot.
upon this page whereon are peering
eager eyes, there lies, I say, perdu
well-known name, oft uttered in the hearing
poets, by poets; as the name is a poet’s, too.
letters, although naturally lying –
Like the knight Pinto
(Mendez Ferdinando) –
Still form a synonym for
truth. Cease trying!
You will not read the riddle though you do the best you
Sargent Osgood was my valentine.
Beginning with the first line of the poem, select the first letter of
the first line, the second letter of the second line, the third letter of the
third line, etc. to spell Frances Sargent Osgood.
Finding an acrostic, The Beale Papers or Thomas J. Beale, for example, in one of my
writings would create quite a stir in the world of literature. Such a find would go a long toward proving
my authorship of The Beale Papers. Sometimes I could not resist leaving
these little hints, it may be worth the effort to search for such a clue.
It is hard to ignore a book entitled Eureka, when searching for a buried
literary treasure. This essay on “the
material and spiritual universe” was, at least on the surface, a treatise on
“the physical, metaphysical and mathematical…universe: of its essence, its
origins, its creation, and its present condition and its destiny.” The essay, about two hundred pages long, was
not well received during my time.
Although some have credited me with predicting the big bang theory and
the existence of black holes, most have ignored this work since my death.
Eureka may be fertile hunting
ground for Beale researchers. In the
first place, the name eureka and the discovery of gold are closely linked. Secondly, because this essay has been
reviewed as a scientific study, it has never, to my knowledge, been analyzed
for the symbolic, below the surface messages that are present in the majority
of my work. At first glance such a
review would not be necessary as this is not a work of fiction. Perhaps this is a mistake. Finally, I recommend a close examination of
the preface of Eureka, my message
here may indicate the existence of a hidden poem.
the few who love me and whom I love—to those who feel rather than to those who
think—to the dreamers and those who put faith in dreams as in the only
realities—I offer this Book of Truths, not in the character of Truth-Teller,
but for the Beauty that abounds in its Truth; constituting it true. To these I present the composition as an
Art-Product alone:--let us say as a Romance; or, if I be not urging to lofty a
claim, as a Poem.
What I here propound is true:--therefore
it cannot die: --or if by any means it be trodden down so that it die, it will
“rise again to the Life Everlasting.”
it is as a Poem only that I wish this work to be judged after I am dead.
Could it be that I have
hidden a great poem in this scientific treatise? True, an essay on the cosmos can be an Art-Product, a Romance, a
thing of beauty in its own right. But a
poem, especially a great poem such as The
Raven, is a much better forum for expressing beauty and romance. What lies beneath the surface?