et lips: while
standing by the bedside he is suddenly struck down in a trance, and his
description of the scene is one of the noblest prose poems in the
English language. But even here, amid the absorbing disclosures of a
frantic sorrow, when the mighty swell of passion had reached its
culmination, and a solemn Memnonian wind, 'the saddest that ear ever
heard,' began to arise, and the seals of a heavenly vision were about to
be unloosed--even here he pauses, philosophically to 'explain why death,
other conditions being equal, is more profoundly affecting in summer
than in other parts of the year'!

We have said that De Quincey was an eminent master of the historic art.
His power in this direction is signally displayed in his account of 'The
Household Wreck,' 'The Spanish Nun,' 'The First Rebellion,' and the
'Flight of a Tartar Tribe.' 'The Household Wreck' is a powerful and
dramatic narrative, but the plot is somewhat confused; on the whole, it
is decidedly inferior to the 'Spanish Nun.' The nun is a _bona-fide_
historical personage, and her career is delineated with surprising
effect. She was the daughter of a Spanish hidalgo, who pitilessly
carried her in infancy to the Convent of St. Sebastian, where she
remained until the age of fifteen; the quietude of that cloistered life
her stormy spirit could no longer brook; she eloped, assumed male
attire, became the page of a nobleman, at whose house she saw that 'old
crocodile,' her father, who was now searching with mock solicitude for
his absconded daughter; exposure was imminent; no safety remained until
the ocean divided her from Spain, and her plans were formed at once; the
nun embarked for South America, doubled Cape Horn, was shipwrecked on
the coast of Peru; finally arrived at Paita; killed a man in a street
encounter; escaped death only by promising to marry a lady who had
fallen in love with her; once again there was no security but in flight;
she joined a cavalry regiment commanded by her own brother, to whom she
was unknown; him she unwittingly killed in a midnight duel; then follow
the terrific passage of the Andes, the fearful tragedies at Tucuman and
Cuzco, her return to Europe in compliance with royal and papal commands;
she approaches the port of Cadiz; myriads upon myriads line the shore
and cover the houses to catch a glimpse of the martial nun; cardinals
and kings and popes hasten to embrace her; the thunders of popular
welcome arise wherever she appears