Thomas De Quincey

Nor, in truth, has any great writer made the attempt.

Not only is our language highly composite, but the component words have, in De Quincey's phrase, happily coalesced.

It is easy to jest at words in osity and ation, as dictionary words and the like.

But even Lord Brougham would have found it difficult to dispense with pomposity and imagination.

German philosopher Immanuel Kant became quite addicted to the drink in the final 15 years of his life.

Thomas De Quincey, in his essay On the Last Days of Immanuel Kant, is illuminating.

Coffee must be brought upon the spot, a word which he had constantly in his mouth during his latter days, in a moment.

Knowing what would happen, I had taken care that all the preparations should be made beforehand.

I gotta tell people, right? So, one of the essays is called LaVonna and Our Ladies of Sorrow, which is a discussion of the ancient Roman goddess of childbirth, LaVonna.

And then the author, De Quincey, conjures up three... companions mater lacrimorum mater suspiriorum and mater tenebrarum and that is our lady of tears our lady of sighs and our lady of darkness and you might recognize one of those as a movie we're covering

mm-hmm

two of them actually oh yeah mother of tears oh yeah

i watch no longer i myself am there he transports us to the very place he describes does not merely hand us a stereoscopic glass in which to observe a well-defined photograph one other quality has always struck me in mr bullen's work in spite of the

fact that he knows so much science and makes so keen and convincing a use of this knowledge there is always an air of mystery and enchantment about his writing de quincey's brother told de quincey that all his arguments against the supernatural were perfectly sound here in england but that they did not hold to the south'ard of the line in the southern seas were still to be found realms

where pure reason was not supreme but mr bullen's experiences

and idyls are to the south'ard of the line he deals as a rule with that region of romance and hence it is i suppose that a sense of something

Within the velvety shadow which extended far to the northwestward from that bold headland lay our brig a lonely almost pathetic object with sails all vertical in the utter calm and taut as boards with the drenching dew the royals peering above the enwrapping dark gleamed silver-white where the unintercepted moon-rays touched them crowning the homely craft with a radiant halo of silver sheen i stood alone in the silent gloom of the deck completely absorbed in the solemn beauty of the scene and utterly unmindful for the present of the severe stress of our encompassing emergencies after the fierce heat of the glowing day the caressing coolness of the hour was a pure delight for although not a breath lifted the down fringing the dog-vein suspended just above my head there was a freshness in the atmosphere which belied the thermometer a sound rippled along through the quiet sending a responsive thrill over my scalp as of an attuned nerve mellow and sustained the clear call of the muezzin from the minaret in zanzibar town had travelled this great distance bearing its tremendous challenge allah dropping all consonants on its way only the open vowels persisted but even so none could mistake the words obedient even in sleep to the call of his faith zahidir our suwali steward turned upon his mat near the mainmast and rising to his feet with hands outstretched before him began in low gutturals the majestic ritual of the musulmani meanwhile the swelling tide of moonlight had invaded the sombre area wherein we lay until the whole of the vessel was shining in purest light every rope spar and sail shimmering in that wonderful luminosity looked unearthly a phantom that the returning sun would dissipate with his workaday beams here and there on the deck wherever a little shelter could be found from the soaking dew lay figures in many an uneasy attitude brokenly slumbering and muttering through the helpless delirium of fever for all hands save the second mate myself two malagasy and two arabs were desperately sick the poisonous malaria which crawls stealthily to the zanzibar anchorage out of the foulness of that most filthy town aided by the treacherous exhalations from the soil everywhere had stricken them down and their only hope of recovery seemed to lie an escape from that dangerous vicinity therefore but principally because of our affection for our suffering skipper with his wife and child all tossing in delirium we had dared to get under way and proceed to sea in such a plight but

now

relieved by my careful brother officer i went below knowing from painful experience that stifling as the air might be down in my berth it was far safer than on deck i awoke streaming as if in the sudatorium of a hammam and after a careful rubdown and complete change of rig returned on deck to relieve my faithful partner a small air from the african land was just lifting the

lighter sails and making a pleasant little ripple warble alongside

By the way, did I ever tell you how it happened that Mr.

Bonds gave up calling me a delightful conversationalist? No? Well, you see, he lived almost opposite to us, and he practiced on the cello until Papa, who was very fond of De Quincey, said he no longer dared to read, murder considered as one of the fine arts.

Suddenly, he stopped practicing and-

Mercy on us, had anything happened to him?

His own solution is advanced not as a practical measure, but merely as an illustration to show that the world is full of opportunities for the peaceful development and continuation of the martial qualities of human life.

This essay was written for general dissemination as a publication of the American Association for International Conciliation, February 1910. as it not only presents a peace program but defines as well the most familiar arguments of the war party, no militarist article has been included, although it may be mentioned that a suggestive apology for war is to be found among De Quincey's essays and also in Ruskin's Crown of Wild Olive.

Additional documents on conciliation, approaching the question from innumerable points of view, are published by the association mentioned above.

End Editor's Introduction The Moral Equivalent of War by William James The war against war is going to be no holiday excursion or camping party.