Narrative and Miscellaneous PapersDe Quincey, Thomas
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Narrative and Miscellaneous Papers
De Quincey, Thomas
English essays; English fiction
years, and it has not killed me yet;' but this was an answer which, in
the case of beer, Kant would not allow of.
On the 22d of April, 1803, his birth-day, the last which he lived to
see, was celebrated in a full assembly of his friends. This festival he
had long looked forward to with great expectation, and delighted even
to hear the progress made in the preparations for it. But when the day
came, the over-excitement and tension of expectation seemed to have
defeated itself. He tried to appear happy; but the bustle of a numerous
company confounded and distressed him; and his spirits were manifestly
forced. He seemed first to revive to any real sense of pleasure at
night, when the company had departed, and he was undressing in his
study. He then talked with much pleasure about the presents which, as
usual, would be made to his servants on this occasion; for Kant was
never happy himself, unless he saw all around him happy. He was a great
maker of presents; but at the same time he had no toleration for the
studied theatrical effect, the accompaniment of formal congratulations,
and the sentimental pathos with which birth-day presents are made in
Germany. [Footnote: In this, as in many other things, the taste of Kant
was entirely English and Roman; as, on the other hand, some eminent
Englishmen, I am sorry to say, have, on this very point, shown the
effeminacy and _falsetto_ taste of the Germans. In particular, Mr.
Coleridge, describing, in The Friend, the custom amongst German children
of making presents to their parents on Christmas Eve, (a custom which
he unaccountably supposes to be peculiar to Ratzeburg,) represents the
mother as 'weeping aloud for joy'--the old idiot of a father with 'tears
running down his face,' &c. &c., and all for what? For a snuff-box, a
pencil-case, or some article of jewellery. Now, we English agree with
Kant on such maudlin display of stage sentimentality, and are prone to
suspect that papa's tears are the product of rum-punch. Tenderness
let us have by all means, and the deepest you can imagine, but upon
proportionate occasions, and with causes fitted to justify it and
sustain its dignity.] In all this, his masculine taste gave him a sense
of something fade and ludicrous.
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