This appears to have been Poe's last night at the university. He left it
never to return, yet, short as was his sojourn there, he left behind him
such honorable memories that his 'alma mater' is now only too proud to
enrol his name among her most respected sons. Poe's adopted father,
however, did not regard his 'protégé's' collegiate career with equal
pleasure: whatever view he may have entertained of the lad's scholastic
successes, he resolutely refused to discharge the gambling debts which,
like too many of his classmates, he had incurred. A violent altercation
took place between Mr. Allan and the youth, and Poe hastily quitted the
shelter of home to try and make his way in the world alone.

Taking with him such poems as he had ready, Poe made his way to Boston,
and there looked up some of his mother's old theatrical friends. Whether
he thought of adopting the stage as a profession, or whether he thought
of getting their assistance towards helping him to put a drama of his
own upon the stage,--that dream of all young authors,--is now unknown.
He appears to have wandered about for some time, and by some means or
the other succeeded in getting a little volume of poems printed "for
private circulation only." This was towards the end of 1827, when he was
nearing nineteen. Doubtless Poe expected to dispose of his volume by
subscription among his friends, but copies did not go off, and
ultimately the book was suppressed, and the remainder of the edition,
for "reasons of a private nature," destroyed.

What happened to the young poet, and how he contrived to exist for the
next year or so, is a mystery still unsolved. It has always been
believed that he found his way to Europe and met with some curious
adventures there, and Poe himself certainly alleged that such was the
case. Numbers of mythical stories have been invented to account for this
chasm in the poet's life, and most of them self-evidently fabulous. In a