Parabola, ellipse, hyperbole,
And quote whole books of Milton verbally;
Or while you is use, and wish to sip at ease
Your tea, quote strophes from Euripides,—
Discuss inscriptions Greek and Runic,
Peloponnesian wars or Punic,
Expatiate gravely on Ricardo, &c., &c., &c.
"Modern Superstition" winds up the volume. This treatise is enriched with memorable illustrations, from Pagan and Christian sources, philosophically arranged and commented on, as bearing on man's perennial sympathy with the invisible—a subject upon which Mr. de Quincey is always informing, animated, and impressive. He argues that the manifest vitality of the modes of popular superstition proves, that the popular intellect does not go along with the bookish or the worldly in pronouncing the miraculous extinct. Superstition, or the sympathy with the invisible, "is the great test," as he contends, "of man's nature, as an earthly combining with a celestial. In superstition lies the possibility of religion. And though superstition is often injurious, degrading, demoralising, it is so, not as a form of corruption or degradation, but as a form of non-development. … Superstition will finally pass into pure forms of religion as man advances. It would be matter of lamentation to hear that superstition had at all decayed until man had made corresponding steps in the purification and development of his intellect as applicable to religious faith." Among the numerous modes here reviewed, are the Ovidian types, representing supernatural power sympathising with humanity, as expressed by a "symbol incarnated with the fixed agencies of nature;"—the Ominous, illustrated by many a curious story, and comprehending such varieties as the old Roman observance of deep meaning in words and syllables, Napoleon's presentiments, the whole practice and doctrine of Sortilegy,—Ornithomancy, once elaborated into a science,—Rhabdomancy, a practice, it is said, not yet extinct even in England (especially in Somersetshire),—Nympholepsy, and its modern parallels, or cognate instances,—Oracles and Prophecies, ill-boding coincidences, portents, Palladia or protecting talismans, &c. Such is the concluding essay of the half dozen in this choice volume, and with readers of a grave, inquiring past, who have no zest for the erratic flights and effervescent humours of some of its forerunners, it will probably be the favourite of the whole.
⁂ Once again we recur to the question of Thomas de Quincey and the Pension List. There have been recent vacancies, and these, at the time we write, remain unfilled. Who has stronger claims than this distinguished but retiring and unobtrusive author? If any, speak, for him have we offended—by real ignorant neglect. Whether in regard to the quantity or the quality of his literary labours, Mr. de Quincey has long ago amply wrought out his title. Merit has made a pension his due. Reverses, and physical suffering, if we are not misinformed, have made it desirable. Once again then we reiterate a question which ought not to need reiteration, and which, this time, for the benefit of short-sighted authorities, we will thank the compositor to set up in good staring capitals—Why is not Thomas de Quincey on the Pension List?
