t verging to decline, its splendors rise,
Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise;
While, scourged by famine from the smiling land,
The mournful peasant leads his humble band;
And while he sinks, without one arm to save,
_The country blooms, a garden and a grave._'

Among those whom Mr. Craig had numbered with the friends of his better
days, the first rank might have been conceded to that most eccentric and
interesting child of genius, Thomas DeQuincey.

Mr. Craig had thrown open to his use a lovely cottage and grounds,
commonly known as 'the Paddock,' which DeQuincey and his family occupied
for several years as privileged guests. 'The Opium-eater,' as he was
universally called by the villagers, was not more remarkable in
character than in appearance. His attenuated form, though but five feet
six in height, seemed singularly tall; and his sharply aquiline
countenance was strongly indicative of reflection. This aspect was
increased by a downward cast of the eyes, which were invariably fixed
upon the ground; and in his solitary walks he seemed like one rapt in a
dream. Such a character could not but be quite a marvel to the literary
coterie of Cockpaine, which found in him an inexhaustible subject of
discussion; while the more common class of the community viewed him with
solemn wonderment--'aye, there he gaes aff to th' brae--he'll kill
himsell wi' ower thinkin'--glowrin all the day lang--ah, there's na gude
in that black stuff; it's worse nor whiskey and baccy forbye.' Such were
some of the ordinary comments on the weird form which was seen emerging
from 'the Paddock' and moving in solitude towards the hills. Taciturnity
was a striking feature in DeQuincey's character, and was, no doubt,
owing to intense mental action. The inner life, aroused to extreme
activity by continued stimulus, excluded all perceptions beyond its own
limits, and the world in which he dwelt was sufficiently large without
the intrusion of external things. In his walks I would often follow in
his track, with that fondness of imitation peculiar to childhood, but
was never the object of his notice, and never heard him converse but
once. Overcome by such recluse habits, DeQuincey showed no desire to
court the patronage of the great, and had but little intercourse with
the lordly family of the Dalhousies. Indeed, his only intimacy was with
Mr. Craig, whose hospitality had won his heart. He was at this time
still consuming enormous quantities