Edgar Allan, author of the Raven, was born at Baltimore in the United States, in January 1811. His father, David Poe, while a student of law at Baltimore, had become enamoured of Elizabeth Arnold, an English actress, with whom he eloped. He married her, gave up his studies, and took to the stage. After a few years, they both died, leaving behind them three children in a state of utter destitution. The eldest, Edgar, a child of remarkable beauty and precocious wit, was then about six years old; and a Mr John Allan, a wealthy merchant, adopted him. In 1816 he visited Great Britain in company with Mr and Mrs Allan, and subsequently passed from four to five years with the Rev. Dr Barshby, in a school kept at Stoke-Newington, near London. On his return to the United States he entered the university at Charlottesville, and there gave evidence of feats of hardihood, reckless wildness, and considerable genius. Gambling and intemperance induced his expulsion from the university. He quitted the place much in debt; and on Allan's refusal to accept some of the drafts, he wrote him an abusive letter, quitted the place, and sailed for Greece, then engaged in a struggle with the Turks. We know but little of his adventures for a year; at the end of which time he broke in upon the slumber of the American minister in St Petersburg, to save him from penalties incurred in a drunken debauch. Through the ambassador's intercession, he was enabled to return to the United States. He became a cadet in the military academy, and, after passing ten months there, he was cashiered for dissipation and neglect of duty. He returned to Allan, who was still disposed to treat him as a son; but owing to a quarrel with the future Mrs Allan, he and his patron parted for ever. He published a small volume of verses, enlisted as a private soldier, was recognised by officers at the military academy, who were forming measures for his release, with prospects of success, when it was discovered that he had deserted. Two prizes were now offered by the proprietor of the Baltimore Saturday Visitor for the best tale and poem suited to his magazine. Poe competed, and was successful. This award was published 12th October 1833. He obtained, through the exertions of this committee, the editorship of a magazine published at Richmond, Virginia; but after the lapse of a few months, he fell into a state of brutish drunkenness, which resulted in his dismissal. While at Richmond, in January 1837, he had married his cousin, Virginia Clemm, a very amiable and lovely girl, who was as poor as himself. He went from Richmond to Baltimore, from Baltimore to Philadelphia, and from Philadelphia to New York. Towards the end of 1838 he settled in Philadelphia, and became editor of a magazine which Burton the comedian had recently established. Here he stayed for more than a year; his works were appreciated; his fame was increasing; when, before the summer was over, he relapsed into his former habits, and was for weeks regardless of everything. This led to his dismissal. Some months afterwards he became editor of Graham's Magazine. His connection with this periodical, which continued about a year and a half, was one of the most active and brilliant periods of his literary life. He wrote for it some of his finest tales and most charming criticisms. During his residence at Philadelphia his manner was usually very quiet and gentlemanly; he was generally dressed with simplicity and elegance; and there was a singular neatness and air of refinement about his home. For this he was mainly indebted to his mother-in-law, who loved him with more than maternal devotion and constancy. In 1841 he removed to New York, where he was received into circles accustomed to the appreciation as well as to the production of literature. It was here, during the outset of his career, that he published his poem of the Raven, of which Mr Willis justly observed, "It is the most effective single example of fugitive poetry ever published in America." His reputation as a magazine editor rose rapidly; and his tales and critical articles set him on the high road to fame. In 1846 Poe's constancy again gave way, and he was reduced to quite an alarming destitution. He was ill; his wife was dying; and his mother-in-law, with his manuscript in her hand, was wandering the streets of New York. In 1848 he advertised several lectures, with the view of obtaining money to start a long-contemplated monthly journal. They were subsequently published as Eureka, a Prose Poem, on the cosmogony of the universe, to the composition of which he brought his subtlest and highest gifts in their fullest power. From this period Poe did not write much; he had quarrelled with most of the chief magazines for which he had formerly written. His name was associated about this time with one of the most brilliant women of New England; and he has immortalized her by the poem, "I saw thee once—once only—years ago." They were not married, however; and the breaking of the engagement seems entirely owing to his own willful caprice. After a temporary absence from New York in the autumn of 1849, he arrived in Baltimore. He met acquaintances who induced him to drink, and, after a night of insanity and exposure, he was borne to an hospital, where he died the same evening at the age of thirty-eight.

In person, Poe was below the middle height, slenderly but compactly formed, and in his better moments was gentlemanly in an eminent degree. His voice was modulated with astonishing skill, and his elocution was at times wellnigh supra-mortal. He was at all times a dreamer, dwelling in ideal realms peopled with the creatures and accidents of his brain. His harsh experience had apparently deprived him of all faith in man and woman. His poetry is characterized by great originality and sweetness. He was a master of rhythm; and put nothing out of his hand that did not bear the stamp of his genius. He wrote but little; but that little was in general of the highest mark. No American poet has reached the poetical heights which were familiar to Poe. His verses have all a dreamy, unworldly grandeur about them; sufficiently real to awaken an interest in the reader, and sufficiently ideal to carry him beyond himself and the things of sense and time. For a perfect mastery over language, and that subtle harmony which constitutes the very highest music, Poe knew but few equals. His versification was liquid and musical; and his entire composition was constructed with the design of being as near perfection as possible. His prose tales are very much like his poetry; but with this difference, that in general he chooses for his poetry subjects fitted to awaken melancholy, or at most exquisite sorrow; while in his prose he harrows up to the foundation the very roots of one's nature, and seems to take a positive pleasure in the exercise. A number of his pieces, to be sure, mainly address themselves to our curiosity, without involving the reader in any fit of feverish anxiety; yet so masterly is this executed, that one might safely say, no one, of any measure of culture, began a story of Poe's without completing it with breathless interest. The style is so simple and yet so accurate, so smooth and yet so highly finished, that it is only on reflection that one perceives the charming vehicle on which he has been carried along. He had a most subtle and delicate intellect, and an imagination singularly weird and unworldly. His works, and especially his poems, were more or less a reflection of his life. He wrote with fastidious difficulty, and in a style too high to be well paid. His works have been published in 4 vols., 1857.