And strange as it
may seem, I once heard this identical instance cited as a triumphant
vindication of the most sublime article of either Pagan or Christian
faith. Nay, from the lips of a theological professor, the fragmentary
glimmerings of a maniac's mind have been adduced for precisely the same
purpose.]
Coleridge was indolent from temperament, a disposition which was
increased by opium. Hence De Quincey was of the opinion that it injured
Coleridge's poetic faculties; which probably was the case, since in
genuine poetry the mind is prominently realistic, its motions are all
outward, and therefore excessive indolence must of necessity be fatal.
De Quincey's physical system, on the contrary, seemed preconformed to
opium: it demanded it, and would be satisfied with nothing else. No
temptation so strong _could_ have been presented to Coleridge. De
Quincey really craved the drug. His stomach was deranged, and was still
suffering from the sad results of his youthful wanderings in London.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333