[1] See J. C. Ballagh, _White Servitude in Virginia_ (Baltimore, 1895.)
DEPOSIT (Lat. _depositum_, from _deponere_, to lay down, to put in the
care of), anything laid down or separated; as in geology, any mass of
material accumulated by a natural agency (see BED), and in chemistry, a
precipitate or matter settling from a solution or suspension. In
banking, a deposit may mean, generally, a sum of money lodged in a bank
without regard to the conditions under which it is held, but more
specially money lodged with a bank on "deposit account" and acknowledged
by the banker by a "deposit receipt" given to the depositor. It is then
not drawn upon by cheque, usually bears interest at a rate varying from
time to time, and can only be withdrawn after fixed notice. Deposit is
also used in the sense of earnest or security for the performance of a
contract. In the law of mortgage the deposit of title-deeds is usual as
a security for the repayment of money advanced. Such a deposit operates
as an equitable mortgage. In the law of contract, deposit or simple
bailment is delivery or bailment of goods in trust to be kept without
recompense, and redelivered on demand (see BAILMENT).
DEPOT (from the Fr. _dépôt_, Lat. _depositum_, laid down; the French
accent marks are usually dispensed with in English), a place where
things may be stored or deposited, such as a furniture or forage depot,
the accumulation of military stores, especially in the theatre of
operations. In America the word is used of a railway station, whether
for passengers or goods; in Great Britain on railways the word, when in
use, is applied to goods stations. A particular military application is
to a depot, situated as a rule in the centre of the recruiting district
of the regiment or other unit, where recruits are received and undergo
the necessary preliminary training before joining the active troops.
Such depots are maintained in peace time by all armies which have to
supply distant or oversea garrisons; in an army raised by compulsory
service and quartered in its own country, the regiments are usually
stationed in their own districts, and on their taking the field for war
leave behind a small nucleus for the formation and training of drafts to
be sent out later. These nucleus troops are generally called depot
troops.
DEPRETIS, AGOSTINO (1813-1887), Italian statesman, was born at Mezzana
Corte, in the province of Stradella on the 31st of January 1813. From
early manhood a disciple of Mazzini and affiliated to the _Giovane
Italia_, he took an active part in the Mazzinian conspiracies and was
nearly captured by the Austrians while smuggling arms into Milan.
Elected deputy in 1848, he joined the Left and founded the journal _Il
Diritto_, but held no official position until appointed governor of
Brescia in 1859. In 1860 he went to Sicily on a mission to reconcile the
policy of Cavour (who desired the immediate incorporation of the island
in the kingdom of Italy) with that of Garibaldi, who wished to postpone
the Sicilian _plébiscite_ until after the liberation of Naples and Rome.
Though appointed pro-dictator of Sicily by Garibaldi, he failed in his
attempt. Accepting the portfolio of public works in the Rattazzi cabinet
in 1862, he served as intermediary in arranging with Garibaldi the
expedition which ended disastrously at Aspromonte. Four years later, on
the outbreak of war against Austria, he entered the Ricasoli cabinet as
minister of marine, and, by maintaining Admiral Persano in command of
the fleet, contributed to the defeat of Lissa. His apologists contend,
however, that, as an inexperienced civilian, he could not have made
sudden changes in naval arrangements without disorganizing the fleet,
and that in view of the impending hostilities he was obliged to accept
the dispositions of his predecessors. Upon the death of Rattazzi in
1873, Depretis became leader of the Left, prepared the advent of his
party to power, and was called upon to form the first cabinet of the
Left in 1876. Overthrown by Cairoli in March 1878 on the grist-tax
question, he succeeded, in the following December, in defeating Cairoli,
became again premier, but on the 3rd of July 1879 was once more
overturned by Cairoli. In November 1879 he, however, entered the Cairoli
cabinet as minister of the interior, and in May 1881 succeeded to the
premiership, retaining that office until his death on the 29th of July
1887. During the long interval he recomposed his cabinet four times,
first throwing out Zanardelli and Baccarini in order to please the
Right, and subsequently bestowing portfolios upon Ricotti, Robilant and
other Conservatives, so as to complete the political process known as
"trasformismo." A few weeks before his death he repented of his
transformist policy, and again included Crispi and Zanardelli in his
cabinet. During his long term of office he abolished the grist tax,
extended the suffrage, completed the railway system, aided Mancini in
forming the Triple Alliance, and initiated colonial policy by the
occupation of Massawa; but, at the same time, he vastly increased
indirect taxation, corrupted and destroyed the fibre of parliamentary
parties, and, by extravagance in public works, impaired the stability of
Italian finance.
DEPTFORD, a south-eastern metropolitan borough of London, England,
bounded N. by Bermondsey, E. by the river Thames and Greenwich, S. by
Lewisham and W. by Camberwell. Pop. (1901) 110,398. The name is
connected with a ford over the Ravensbourne, a stream entering the
Thames through Deptford Creek. The borough comprises only the parish of
Deptford St Paul, that of Deptford St Nicholas being included in the
borough of Greenwich. Deptford is a district of poor streets, inhabited
by a large industrial population, employed in engineering and other
riverside works. On the river front, extending into the borough of
Greenwich, are the royal victualling yard and the site of the old
Deptford dockyard. The first supplies the navy with provisions,
medicines, furniture, &c., manufactured or stored in the large
warehouses here. The dockyard ceased to be used in 1869, and was filled
up and converted into a foreign cattle market by the City Corporation.
Of public buildings the most noteworthy are St Paul's church (1730), of
classic design; the municipal buildings; and the hospital for master
mariners, maintained by the corporation of the Trinity House, which was
founded at Deptford, the old hall being pulled down in 1787. Other
institutions are the Goldsmiths' Polytechnic Institute, New Cross; and
the South-eastern fever hospital. A mansion known as Sayes Court, taken
down in 1729, was the residence of the duke of Sussex in the reign of
Elizabeth; it was occupied in the following century by John Evelyn,
author of _Sylva_, and by Peter the Great during his residence in
England in 1698. The site of its gardens is occupied by Deptford Park of
11 acres. Another open space is Telegraph Hill (9½ acres). The
parliamentary borough of Deptford returns one member. The borough
council consists of a mayor, 6 aldermen, and 36 councillors. Area,
1562.7 acres.
DEPUTY (through the Fr. from a Late Lat. use of _deputare_, to cut off,
allot; _putare_ having the original sense of to trim, prune), one
appointed to act or govern instead of another; one who exercises an
office in another man's right, a substitute; in representative
government a member of an elected chamber. In general, the powers and
duties of a deputy are those of his principal (see also REPRESENTATION),
but the extent to which he may exercise them is dependent upon the power
delegated to him. He may be authorized to exercise the whole of his
principal's office, in which case he is a general deputy, or to act only
in some particular matter or service, when he is termed a special
deputy. In the United Kingdom various officials are specifically
empowered by statute to appoint deputies to act for them under certain
circumstances. Thus a clerk of the peace, in case of illness, incapacity
or absence, may appoint a fit person to act as his deputy. While judges
of the supreme court cannot act by deputy, county court judges and
recorders can, in cases of illness or unavoidable absence, appoint
deputies. So can registrars of county courts and returning officers at
elections.
DE QUINCEY, THOMAS (1785-1859), English author, was born at Greenheys,
Manchester, on the 15th of August 1785. He was the fifth child in a
family of eight (four sons and four daughters). His father, descended
from a Norman family, was a merchant, who left his wife and six children
a clear income of £1600 a year. Thomas was from infancy a shy, sensitive
child, with a constitutional tendency to dreaming by night and by day;
and, under the influence of an elder brother, a lad "whose genius for
mischief amounted to inspiration," who died in his sixteenth year, he
spent much of his boyhood in imaginary worlds of their own creating. The
amusements and occupations of the whole family, indeed, seem to have
been mainly intellectual; and in De Quincey's case, emphatically, "the
child was father to the man." "My life has been," he affirms in the
_Confessions_, "on the whole the life of a philosopher; from my birth I
was made an intellectual creature, and intellectual in the highest sense
my pursuits and pleasures have been." From boyhood he was more or less
in contact with a polished circle; his education, easy to one of such
native aptitude, was sedulously attended to. When he was in his twelfth
year the family removed to Bath, where he was sent to the grammar
school, at which he remained for about two years; and for a year more he
attended another public school at Winkfield, Wiltshire. At thirteen he
wrote Greek with ease; at fifteen he not only composed Greek verses in
lyric measures, but could converse in Greek fluently and without
embarrassment; one of his masters said of him, "that boy could harangue
an Athenian mob better than you or I could address an English one."
Towards the close of his fifteenth year he visited Ireland, with a
companion of his own age, Lord Westport, the son of Lord Altamont, an
Irish peer, and spent there in residence and travel some months of the
summer and autumn of the year 1800,--being a spectator at Dublin of "the
final ratification of the bill which united Ireland to Great Britain."
On his return to England, his mother having now settled at St John's
Priory, a residence near Chester, De Quincey was sent to the Manchester
grammar school, mainly in the hope of securing one of the school
exhibitions to help his expenses at Oxford.
Discontented with the mode in which his guardians conducted his
education, and with some view apparently of forcing them to send him
earlier to college, he left this school after less than a year's
residence--ran away, in short, to his mother's house. There his mother's
brother, Colonel Thomas Penson, made an arrangement for him to have a
weekly allowance, on which he might reside at some country place in
Wales, and pursue his studies, presumably till he could go to college.
From Wales, however, after brief trial, "suffering grievously from want
of books," he went off as he had done from school, and hid himself from
guardians and friends in the world of London. And now, as he says,
commenced "that episode, or impassioned parenthesis of my life, which is
comprehended in _The Confessions of an English Opium Eater_." This
London episode extended over a year or more; his money soon vanished,
and he was in the utmost poverty; he obtained shelter for the night in
Greek Street, Soho, from a moneylender's agent, and spent his days
wandering in the streets and parks; finally the lad was reconciled to
his guardians, and in 1803 was sent to Worcester College, Oxford, being
by this time about nineteen. It was in the course of his second year at
Oxford that he first tasted opium,--having taken it to allay neuralgic
pains. De Quincey's mother had settled at Weston Lea, near Bath, and on
one of his visits to Bath, De Quincey made the acquaintance of
Coleridge; he took Mrs Coleridge to Grasmere, where he became personally
acquainted with Wordsworth.
After finishing his career of five years at college in 1808 he kept
terms at the Middle Temple; but in 1809 visited the Wordsworths at
Grasmere, and in the autumn returned to Dove Cottage, which he had taken
on a lease. His choice was of course influenced partly by neighbourhood
to Wordsworth, whom he early appreciated;--having been, he says, the
only man in all Europe who quoted Wordsworth so early as 1802. His
friendship with Wordsworth decreased within a few years, and when in
1834 De Quincey published in _Tait's Magazine_ his reminiscences of the
Grasmere circle, the indiscreet references to the Wordsworths contained
in the article led to a complete cessation of intercourse. Here also he
enjoyed the society and friendship of Coleridge, Southey and especially
of Professor Wilson, as in London he had of Charles Lamb and his circle.
He continued his classical and other studies, especially exploring the
at that time almost unknown region of German literature, and indicating
its riches to English readers. Here also, in 1816, he married Margaret
Simpson, the "dear M----" of whom a charming glimpse is accorded to the
reader of the _Confessions_; his family came to be five sons and three
daughters.
For about a year and a half he edited the _Westmoreland Gazette_. He
left Grasmere for London in the early part of 1820. The Lambs received
him with great kindness and introduced him to the proprietors of the
_London Magazine_. It was in this journal in 1821 that the _Confessions_
appeared. De Quincey also contributed to _Blackwood_, to _Knight's
Quarterly Magazine_, and later to _Tait's Magazine_. His connexion with
_Blackwood_ took him to Edinburgh in 1828, and he lived there for twelve
years, contributing from time to time to the _Edinburgh Literary
Gazette_. His wife died in 1837, and the family eventually settled at
Lasswade, but from this time De Quincey spent his time in lodgings in
various places, staying at one place until the accumulation of papers
filled the rooms, when he left them in charge of the landlady and
wandered elsewhere. After his wife's death he gave way for the fourth
time in his life to the opium habit, but in 1844 he reduced his daily
quantity by a tremendous effort to six grains, and never again yielded.
He died in Edinburgh on the 8th of December 1859, and is buried in the
West Churchyard.
During nearly fifty years De Quincey lived mainly by his pen. His
patrimony seems never to have been entirely exhausted, and his habits
and tastes were simple and inexpensive; but he was reckless in the use
of money, and had debts and pecuniary difficulties of all sorts. There
was, indeed, his associates affirm, an element of romance even in his
impecuniosity, as there was in everything about him; and the diplomatic
and other devices by which he contrived to keep clear of clamant
creditors, while scrupulously fulfilling many obligations, often
disarmed animosity, and converted annoyance into amusement. The famous
_Confessions of an English Opium Eater_ was published in a small volume
in 1822, and attracted a very remarkable degree of attention, not simply
by its personal disclosures, but by the extraordinary power of its
dream-painting. No other literary man of his time, it has been remarked,
achieved so high and universal a reputation from such merely fugitive
efforts. The only works published separately (not in periodicals) were a
novel, _Klosterheim_ (1832), and _The Logic of Political Economy_
(1844). After his works were brought together, De Quincey's reputation
was not merely maintained, but extended. For range of thought and topic,
within the limits of pure literature, no like amount of material of such
equality of merit proceeded from any eminent writer of the day. However
profuse and discursive, De Quincey is always polished, and generally
exact--a scholar, a wit, a man of the world and a philosopher, as well
as a genius. He looked upon letters as a noble and responsible calling;
in his essay on Oliver Goldsmith he claims for literature the rank not
only of a fine art, but of the highest and most potent of fine arts; and
as such he himself regarded and practised it. He drew a broad
distinction between "the literature of _knowledge_ and the literature of
_power_," asserting that the function of the first is to _teach_, the
function of the second to _move_,--maintaining that the meanest of
authors who moves has pre-eminence over all who merely teach, that the
literature of knowledge must perish by supersession, while the
literature of power is "triumphant for ever as long as the language
exists in which it speaks." It is to this class of motive literature
that De Quincey's own works essentially belong; it is by virtue of that
vital element of power that they have emerged from the rapid oblivion of
periodicalism, and live in the minds of later generations. But their
power is weakened by their volume.
De Quincey fully defined his own position and claim to distinction in
the preface to his collected works. These he divides into three
classes:--"_first_, that class which proposes primarily to amuse the
reader," such as the _Narratives, Autobiographic Sketches_, &c.;
"_second_, papers which address themselves purely to the understanding
as an insulated faculty, or do so primarily," such as the essays on
Essenism, the Caesars, Cicero, &c.; and finally, as a _third_ class,
"and, in virtue of their aim, as a far higher class of compositions," he
ranks those "modes of impassioned prose ranging under no precedents that
I am aware of in any literature," such as the _Confessions_ and
_Suspiria de Profundis_. The high claim here asserted has been
questioned; and short and isolated examples of eloquent apostrophe, and
highly wrought imaginative description, have been cited from Rousseau
and other masters of style; but De Quincey's power of sustaining a
fascinating and elevated strain of "impassioned prose" is allowed to be
entirely his own. Nor, in regard to his writings as a whole, will a
minor general claim which he makes be disallowed, namely, that he "does
not write without a thoughtful consideration of his subject," and also
with novelty and freshness of view. "Generally," he says, "I claim (not
arrogantly, but with firmness) the merit of rectification applied to
absolute errors, or to injurious limitations of the truth." Another
obvious quality of all his genius is its overflowing fulness of allusion
and illustration, recalling his own description of a great philosopher
or scholar--"Not one who depends simply on an infinite memory, but also
on an infinite and electrical power of combination, bringing together
from the four winds, like the angel of the resurrection, what else were
dust from dead men's bones into the unity of breathing life." It is
useless to complain of his having lavished and diffused his talents and
acquirements over so vast a variety of often comparatively trivial and
passing topics. The world must accept gifts from men of genius as they
offer them; circumstance and the hour often rule their form. Those
influences, no less than the idiosyncrasy of the man, determined De
Quincey to the illumination of such matter for speculation as seemed to
lie before him; he was not careful to search out recondite or occult
themes, though these he did not neglect,--a student, a scholar and a
recluse, he was yet at the same time a man of the world, keenly
interested in the movements of men and in the page of history that
unrolled itself before him day by day. To the discussion of things new,
as readily as of things old, aided by a capacious, retentive and ready
memory, which dispensed with reference to printed pages, he brought also
the exquisite keenness and subtlety of his highly analytic and
imaginative intellect, the illustrative stores of his vast and varied
erudition, and that large infusion of common sense which preserved him
from becoming at any time a mere _doctrinaire_, or visionary. If he did
not throw himself into any of the great popular controversies or
agitations of the day, it was not from any want of sympathy with the
struggles of humanity or the progress of the race, but rather because
his vocation was to apply to such incidents of his own time, as to like
incidents of all history, great philosophical principles and tests of
truth and power. In politics, in the party sense of that term, he would
probably have been classed as a Liberal Conservative or Conservative
Liberal--at one period of his life perhaps the former, and at a later
the latter. Originally, as we have seen, his surroundings were
aristocratic, in his middle life his associates, notably Wordsworth,
Southey and Wilson, were all Tories; but he seems never to have held the
extreme and narrow views of that circle. Though a flavour of high
breeding runs through his writings, he has no vulgar sneers at the
vulgar. As he advanced in years his views became more and more decidedly
liberal, but he was always as far removed from Radicalism as from
Toryism, and may be described as a philosophical politician, capable of
classification under no definite party name or colour. Of political
economy he had been an early and earnest student, and projected, if he
did not so far proceed with, an elaborate and systematic treatise on the
science, of which all that appears, however, are his fragmentary
_Dialogues_ on the system of Ricardo, published in the _London Magazine_
in 1824, and _The Logic of Political Economy_ (1844). But political and
economic problems largely exercised his thoughts, and his historical
sketches show that he is constantly alive to their interpenetrating
influence. The same may be said of his biographies, notably of his
remarkable sketch of Dr Parr. Neither politics nor economics, however,
exercised an absorbing influence on his mind,--they were simply
provinces in the vast domain of universal speculation through which he
ranged "with unconfined wings." How wide and varied was the region he
traversed a glance at the titles of the papers which make up his
collected--or more properly, selected--works (for there was much matter
of evanescent interest not reprinted) sufficiently shows. Some things in
his own line he has done perfectly; he has written many pages of
magnificently mixed argument, irony, humour and eloquence, which, for
sustained brilliancy, richness, subtle force and purity of style and
effect, have simply no parallels; and he is without peer the prince of
dreamers. The use of opium no doubt stimulated this remarkable faculty
of reproducing in skilfully selected phrase the grotesque and shifting
forms of that "cloudland, gorgeous land," which opens to the
sleep-closed eye.
To the appreciation of De Quincey the reader must bring an imaginative
faculty somewhat akin to his own--a certain general culture, and large
knowledge of books, and men and things. Otherwise much of that slight
and delicate allusion that gives point and colour and charm to his
writings will be missed; and on this account the full enjoyment and
comprehension of De Quincey must always remain a luxury of the literary
and intellectual. But his skill in narration, his rare pathos, his wide
sympathies, the pomp of his dream-descriptions, the exquisite
playfulness of his lighter dissertations, and his abounding though
delicate and subtle humour, commend him to a larger class. Though far
from being a professed humorist--a character he would have shrunk
from--there is no more expert worker in a sort of half-veiled and
elaborate humour and irony than De Quincey; but he employs those
resources for the most part secondarily. Only in one instance has he
given himself up to them unreservedly and of set purpose, namely, in the
famous "Essay on Murder considered as one of the Fine Arts," published
in _Blackwood_,--an effort which, admired and admirable though it be, is
also, it must be allowed, somewhat strained. His style, full and
flexible, pure and polished, is peculiarly his own; yet it is not the
style of a mannerist,--its charm is, so to speak, latent; the form never
obtrudes; the secret is only discoverable by analysis and study. It
consists simply in the reader's assurance of the writer's complete
mastery over all the infinite applicability and resources of the English
language. Hence involutions and parentheses, "cycle on epicycle," evolve
themselves into a stately clearness and harmony; and sentences and
paragraphs, loaded with suggestion, roll on smoothly and musically,
without either fatiguing or cloying--rather, indeed, to the surprise as
well as delight of the reader; for De Quincey is always ready to indulge
in feats of style, witching the world with that sort of noble
horsemanship which is as graceful as it is daring.
It has been complained that, in spite of the apparently full confidences
of the _Confessions_ and _Autobiographic Sketches_, readers are left in
comparative ignorance, biographically speaking, of the man De Quincey.
Two passages in his _Confessions_ afford sufficient clues to this
mystery. In one he describes himself "as framed for love and all gentle
affections," and in another confesses to the "besetting infirmity" of
being "too much of an eudaemonist." "I hanker," he says, "too much after
a state of happiness, both for myself and others; I cannot face misery,
whether my own or not, with an eye of sufficient firmness, and am little
capable of surmounting present pain for the sake of any recessionary
benefit." His sensitive disposition dictated the ignoring in his
writings of traits merely personal to himself, as well as his
ever-recurrent resort to opium as a doorway of escape from present ill;
and prompted those habits of seclusion, and that apparently capricious
abstraction of himself from the society not only of his friends, but of
his own family, in which he from time to time persisted. He confessed to
occasional accesses of an almost irresistible impulse to flee to the
labyrinthine shelter of some great city like London or Paris,--there to
dwell solitary amid a multitude, buried by day in the cloister-like
recesses of mighty libraries, and stealing away by night to some obscure
lodging. Long indulgence in seclusion, and in habits of study the most
lawless possible in respect of regular hours or any considerations of
health or comfort,--the habit of working as pleased himself without
regard to the divisions of night or day, of times of sleeping or waking,
even of the slow procession of the seasons, had latterly so disinclined
him to the restraints, however slight, of ordinary social intercourse,
that he very seldom submitted to them. On such rare occasions, however,
as he did appear, perhaps at some simple meal with a favoured friend, or
in later years in his own small but refined domestic circle, he was the
most charming of guests, hosts or companions. A short and fragile, but
well-proportioned frame; a shapely and compact head; a face beaming with
intellectual light, with rare, almost feminine beauty of feature and
complexion; a fascinating courtesy of manner; and a fulness, swiftness
and elegance of silvery speech,--such was the irresistible "mortal
mixture of earth's mould" that men named De Quincey. He possessed in a
high degree what James Russell Lowell called "the grace of perfect
breeding, everywhere persuasive, and nowhere emphatic"; and his whole
aspect and manner exercised an undefinable attraction over every one,
gentle or simple, who came within its influence; for shy as he was, he
was never rudely shy, making good his boast that he had always made it
his "pride to converse familiarly _more socratico_ with all human
beings--man, woman and child"--looking on himself as a catholic creature
standing in an equal relation to high and low, to educated and
uneducated. He would converse with a peasant lad or a servant girl in
phrase as choice, and sentences as sweetly turned, as if his
interlocutor were his equal both in position and intelligence; yet
without a suspicion of pedantry, and with such complete adaptation of
style and topic that his talk charmed the humblest as it did the highest
that listened to it. His conversation was not a monologue; if he had the
larger share, it was simply because his hearers were only too glad that
it should be so; he would listen with something like deference to very
ordinary talk, as if the mere fact of the speaker being one of the same
company entitled him to all consideration and respect. The natural bent
of his mind and disposition, and his lifelong devotion to letters, to
say nothing of his opium eating, rendered him, it must be allowed,
regardless of ordinary obligations in life--domestic and pecuniary--to a
degree that would have been culpable in any less singularly constituted
mind. It was impossible to deal with or judge De Quincey by ordinary
standards--not even his publishers did so. Much no doubt was forgiven
him, but all that needed forgiveness is covered by the kindly veil of
time, while his merits as a master in English literature are still
gratefully acknowledged.[1]
[BIBLIOGRAPHY.--In 1853 De Quincey began to prepare an edition of his
works, _Selections Grave and Gay_. _Writings Published and
Unpublished_ (14 vols., Edinburgh, 1853-1860), followed by a second
edition (1863-1871) with notes by James Hogg and two additional
volumes; a further supplementary volume appeared in 1878. The first
comprehensive edition, however, was printed in America (Boston, 20
vols., 1850-1855); and the "Riverside" edition (Boston and New York,
12 vols., 1877) is still fuller. The standard English edition is _The
Collected Writings of Thomas De Quincey_ (14 vols., Edinburgh,
1889-1890), edited by David Masson, who also wrote his biography
(1881) for the "English Men of Letters" series. The _Uncollected
Writings of Thomas De Quincey_ (London, 2 vols., 1890) contains a
preface and annotations by James Hogg; _The Posthumous Writings of
Thomas De Quincey_ (2 vols., 1891-1893) were edited by A. H. Japp
("H. A. Page"), who wrote the standard biography, _Thomas De Quincey:
his Life and Writings_ (London, 2 vols., 2nd ed., 1879), and _De
Quincey Memorials_ (2 vols., 1891). See also Arvède Barine,
_Neurosés_ (Paris, 1898); Sir L. Stephen, _Hours in a Library_; H. S.
Salt, _De Quincey_ (1904); and _De Quincey and his Friends_ (1895), a
collection edited by James Hogg, which includes essays by Dr Hill
Burton and Shadworth Hodgson.] (J. R. F.)