Here are draperies and involutions of
mystery from which mere curiosity stands aloof. This is the head which
we have loved, and which in our eyes wears a triple wreath of glory: the
laurel for his Apollo-like art, the lotos-leaf for his impassioned
dreams, and roses for his most gentle and loving nature.
How much of that which glorified De Quincey was due to opium? Very
little as to quality, but very much as to the degree and the peculiar
manner in which original qualities and dispositions are developed, for
here it is that the only field of influence open to abnormal agencies
lies. Coleridge, as an opium-eater, is the only individual worthy of
notice in the same connection. Had _he_ also confessed, it is uncertain
what new revelations might have been made. It is certain that opium
exercised a very potent effect upon him; for it was generally after his
dose that his remarkable intellectual displays occurred. These displays
were mostly confined to his conversations, which were usually
long-winded metaphysical epics, evolving a continued series of
abstractions and analyses, and, for their movement, depending upon a
sort of poetic construction.
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