that a soldier's career was the most glorious in
the world. The hard study, the strict discipline, the rigid law and
order of cadet life seemed only admirable, and he soon stood at the
head of his class. But it was impossible that this enthusiasm should
last long. Poe was endowed by nature with the dreamy and artistic
temperament of the poet, and discipline and routine could not fail
to become in a short time unbearable. When this period arrived the
prospective life of the soldier lost its charm, and he was seized with
a desire to leave the Academy and bid a final farewell to military
life. It was impossible to do this without the consent of his
guardian, and as Mr. Allan refused this, Poe was forced to carry his
point in his own way. This he did by lagging in his studies, writing
poetry when he should have been solving problems, and refusing point
blank to obey orders. Military discipline could not long brook this.
Poe was court-martialed, and, pleading guilty, was discharged from the
Academy, disgraced but happy. During his stay there he had published a
third edition of his poems, containing a number of pieces not included
in the other editions. It was dedicated to his fellow-cadets, and was
subscribed for by many of the students.

Almost immediately after his departure from West Point, Poe went
to live with his aunt, Mrs. Clemm, and her daughter Virginia, who
afterward became his wife; and from this time forward he never seems
to have had any serious idea of a career otherwise than literary. In
1832, when he was in his twenty-fourth year, prizes were offered by a
Baltimore paper for the best short story and best poem that should be
presented. Among the material offered in competition the judges found
a small collection of tales bound together, and written in neat Roman
characters. These stories were the last ones read by the committee
which had about decided that there had been nothing offered worthy the
prize; their unmistakable signs of genius were instantly recognized.
It was decided that the prize of one hundred dollars belonged to this
author, and out of the series the story entitled _A Manuscript Found
in a Bottle_ was selected as the prize tale, though all were so
excellent that it was difficult to determine which was best. This
little volume had been submitted by Poe, and when the poetry came to
be examined it was found also that the best poem in the collection
was his. He was not, however, awarded the prize