The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1897-11-16
POTPOURRI

among English men OF letters,
Tk0znas DeQuincey. We have often
discussed some salient feature OF his
very remarkable mind or his almost
znrfva1led style for splendor and vigor.
He is one OF the half dozen very great
atyiists in Great Britain among prose
writer's. Today we wish to write some
thing OF his failures. We nave but lit
lie doubt that the main cause OF his
mot producing some continuous, un-
xhroken ~work-some grand, stupendous
wok-his opus-was owing
10 the fierce struggle he had to wage
against his old habit Of opium eating,
and the consequent nervous debility
that followed him through life. At 70
years Of age he had either to walk
twelve miles daily or to labor for hours
In moving q pile Of rocks he kept under
cover to be used in rainy weather, be-
f0Fe he could obtain the necessary
sleep. Peter Bayne, the eloquent Scotch
critic, says of him.:
I'VE hin DeQuincey was naturally
fitted to take his station among the
great systematic thinke Of the olden
xirne, and something unique in litera-
kare might have been achieved by the
operation Of such a piercing
intellect and so imperial an magma
xfon on the pedestal Of the nineteenth
century. When his arms, in the
strength of manhood, and with all their
gigantic powers untrammeled, might
have been piling mountain among
monntain, he had still to wrestle in
mortal agony with a serpent of dead
Her venom and more overwhelming
power than ever coiled around the an
Client hero"
An American writer of books, and a
critic Of acuteness and judgment and a
writer Of considerable grace, DR.. Math-
>ews, a western writer, we think, nearly
twenty years ago or perhaps longer,
wrote this felicitous passage:
Among the fairies who dropped
gifts in his cradle, there was one whose
gifts was a curse. She gave him irres-
~ oIutjon-the want of co-Ordinating
: power, central control, Intellectual
vo1stfon. 1t is for this reason that De
Quincy. with all his transcendent abil-
: tiles tHnd immense learning, has 10
commanding position in English liter
Ature4i1.the centre of no circle"
Let US dwell a little on this mastery
and yet irresolute writer upon whom SO
many gifts were bestowed. He lacked
capacity to act. Other great men have
suffered in this way. We not long since
In these columns pointed to even a
greater man than De Quincy, a con-
temporary and acquaintance, Samuel
Taylor Coleridse, who was a sad VIC
finn Of the same imperious and para
1yzing habit hat mastered De Quincy.
He thought profoundly and intensely.
hut his mental efforts were spasmodic
rather taan regular; hence only frac-
z1onal, unfinished productions were
sent forth from his full and exhaust
IfeB Intellectual mine.
From his plastic touch there proceed
81 Nc perfect statuary like those Of
-Pr1xitiies or Phidias-every proportion
-Wnmetrical. every part complete n
6eautifu1 like the Apollo, or the Venus,
"a the LAGOON. However exquisite
the design as far as unfolded, or ad-
nlrable the traceries of his cunning
hand 40 he evoked from the rude mar
Ale. the lovely image that filled his ac-
tive. teeming brain, there was still
something incomplete and unsatisfac-
fSry: for some portion of the lofty N
@ception had not been bodied forth, and
only existed as yet in the chambers of
his grand intellect, where, alas! it re-
manned forever. He left, therefore, no
perfect work of art. All that remains
are the most matchless Torsos-on1y
40 splendid and peerless, that wonder
and admiration are blended with pro-
found regret and disappointments as
we contemplate them.
At this day many men with a very
small portion of his ability, learning,
and genius, are exerting far greater
Influence upon the worlds thoughts. 1t
rs because of the incomplete, indeter-
animate character of his writings-hav-
Ing no great end in view-no chosen
Sodi tOWdruS WHICH he uirecteu MS
Heeting coursers, that he exerts so lit
kIe influence and boasts no lotteries or
circles who look up to him.. Primus
Inter Illustres, as their great leader
and apostle. In the beautiful words Of
DIR Mathews. his writings are reveries,
outpourings, improvisions, not works.
He modulates and weaves together
fragments OF divinest song, but gives
Hs no symphony. Cleans come upon
his page from deep centre fires; lights
: lash across 1t from distant horizons;
: but the light is that Of a dancing will
O-fhe-wisp, not the steady throbbing
nY utar NV which man mo ~h.U>