dinary one. Feeling that hell had come, and
that death was at hand, he determined, by a mighty effort, to arise from
his degradation. For a season his struggles were great and impotent, as
those of the giants cast down by Jove under Etna. The mountain shook,
the burden tottered, but the light did not at first appear. Nor has he
ever, we suspect, completely emancipated himself from his bondage; but
he has struggled manfully against it, and has cast off such a large
portion of the burden that it were injustice not to say of him that he
is now FREE.

It were ungracious to have dwelt, even so long, upon the errors of De
Quincey, were it not that, first, his own frankness of disclosures frees
us from all delicacy; and that, secondly, the errors of such a man, like
the cloud of the pillar, have two sides--his darkness may become our
light--his sin our salvation. It may somewhat counteract that craving
cry for excitement, that everlasting Give, give, so much the mistake of
the age, to point strongly to this conspicuous and transcendent victim,
and say to his admirers, "Go ye and do _otherwise_."

We pass gladly to the subject of his genius. That is certainly one of
the most singular in its power, variety, culture, and eccentricity, our
age has witnessed. His intellect is at once solid and subtle, reminding
you of veined and figured marble, so beautiful and evasive in aspect,
that you must touch ere you are certain of its firmness. The motion of
his mind is like that of dancing, but it is the dance of an elephant, or
of a Polyphemus, with his heavy steps, thundering down the music to
which he moves. Hence his humor often seems forced in motion, while
always fine in spirit. The contrast between the slow march of his
sentences, the frequent gravity of his spirit, the recondite masses of
his lore, the logical severity of his diction, and his determination, at
times, to be desperately witty, produces a ludicrous effect, but
somewhat different from what he had intended. It is "Laughter" lame, and
only able to hold one of his sides, so that you laugh at, as well as
with him. But few, we think, would have been hypercritical in judging of
Columbus' first attitudes as he stepped down upon his new world. And
thus, let a great intellectual explorer be permitted to occupy his own
region, in whatever way, and with whatever ceremonies, may seem best to
himself. Should he even, like Caesar, stumble upon the shore, no matter
if he stumble _fo