rs the face of Isis or the
poppy-sceptred Demeter. Under this _papaverian_ mask it is likely to be
best known to the reader; for it is under the title of "Opium-Eater"
that he is most generally recognized. It was through his
Opium-Confessions, popular both as to matter and style, that he first
conciliated and charmed the reading public,--and to such a degree that
great expectations were awakened as to anything which afterwards he
might write. This expectation heightens appreciation; and in this case
it helped many a metaphysical dose down the voracious throat of the
public, without its being aware of the nauseating potion, or
experiencing any uncomfortable consequences. The flood of popularity
produced by the Opium-Confessions among that large intellectual class of
readers who, notwithstanding their mental capacity, yet insist upon the
graces of composition and upon a subject of immediate and moving
interest, was sufficient to float into a popular haven many a ship of
heavier freightage, which might else have fallen short of port.

The general interest which is manifested in De Quincey _personally_ is
also very much due to the fact that he was an opium-eater, and an
opium-eater willing to breathe into the public ear the peculiarities of
his situation and its hidden mysteries, or "_suspiria de profundis_."
This interest is partly of that vulgar sort which connects itself with
all mysterious or abnormal phenomena in Nature or in the human mind,
with a "What is it?" or a spiritual medium, and which is satisfied with
a palpable exhibition of the novelty; and partly it is of a
philosophical order, inquiring into the causes and modes of the abnormal
development. It is rarely the case that human vision is especially or
deliberately directed to the sun or the moon, except at the marvellous
season of eclipse, when interest is awakened by the novelty of the
appearance among the vulgar, and among philosophers by the unusual
nature of the phenomenon, demanding explanation. Then it is that the
people inhabiting this globe are excited by something which calls off
their attention from terrestrial trifles to that which connects them
with unknown worlds. If we had been born Hindoos, we should, at such
times, exhibit our skittish tendencies, "shying" at the sun-eating
monster with nervous apprehension, and should doubtless do our best,
through horrid yells and tintinnabulations, towards getting up a
tremendous counter-irritation upon the