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Thomas de Quincey,
Biography
THOMAS DE QUINCEYa.
THIRTY-SIX years ago, within a month or two, the reading
public were delighted and perplexed by an article from a new
contributor, which had appeared in two consecutive numbers
of the "London Magazine." Just at that time the "London" was
amongst the most popular and prosperous of monthly
periodicals, and it well deserved its reputation and
success. Its celebrated editor, John Scott, had indeed
fallen in a duel six months before; but there still remained
amongst the writers whom he had enlisted in the work, men as
able as Cary, Cunningham, Hazlitt, and Charles Lamb, who
were contributing to it some of their most powerful and
charming compositions. Even in this company the new
contributor's article held to distance all competitors both
in brilliancy and depth; and even the masculine vigour of
the "Table-Talk," and the inimitable delicacy of "Elia's
Essays," were slighted for a while in the tumultuous burst
of approbation with which "The Confessions of an English
Opium-Eater" were receieved.
This was Mr. De Quincey's first effort as a writer for the
public, and it was a noble harbinger of the long series of
his subsequent productions. All the characteristic qualities
which an examination of the whole collection of his writings
would incline us to attribute to him, may be found, in
greater or in less degree, in the "Confessions." It was
obvious then - and the little work, in its original form,
bears witness to the same facts now - that the author had at
his command far larger stores of knowledge, and powers of
mind which had been subjected to a far richer and completer
culture, than those which the common herd of men of letters
wield; that he combined, in a word, philosophey, and
scholarship, and science, and imagination, with an almost
unequalled mastery of the arts and ornaments of speech. We
believe, indeed, that it would be hard to find, in all our
recent literature, another first work as stikingly
indicative of genuine and mature strength.
But the "Confessions" were far from being confined to the
one subject of Opium-eating. Indeed, for any parallel to the
absolute unreservedness of De Quincey's communications
concerning himself, we question whether it would not be
almost necessary to go back to the Essays of Montaigne or
the "Confessions" of Rousseau. Along with the history which
he gave of his own indulgence in the "accursed drug," he
associated a pretty complete
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