st summer; for which I return
you my sincere thanks. I have another more perfect copy of the
ode; which, had I known your obliging design, I would have
communicated to you. Inform me by a line, if you should think one
of my better judgment acceptable. In such case I could send you
one written on a nobler subject; and which, though I have been
persuaded to bring it forth in London, I think more calculated for
an audience in the university. The subject is the Music of the
Grecian Theatre; in which I have, I hope naturally, introduced the
various characters with which the chorus was concerned, as
OEdipus, Medea, Electra, Orestes, etc. etc. The composition too is
probably more correct, as I have chosen the ancient tragedies for
my models, and only copied the most affecting passages in them.
"In the mean time, you would greatly oblige me by sending the
score of the last. If you can get it written, I will readily
answer the expense. If you send it with a copy or two of the ode
(as printed at Oxford) to Mr. Clarke, at Winchester, he will
forward it to me here. I am, Sir,
"With great respect,
"Your obliged humble servant,
"WILLIAM COLLINS.
"Chichester, Sussex, November 8, 1750."
"P. S. Mr. Clarke past some days here while Mr. Worgan was with
me; from whose friendship, I hope, he will receive some
advantage."
Soon after this period, the disease which had long threatened to destroy
Collins's intellects assumed a more decided character; but for some time
the unhappy poet was the only person who was sensible of the approaching
calamity. A visit to France was tried in vain; and when Johnson called
upon him, on his return, an incident occurred which proves that Collins
wisely sought for consolation against the coming wreck of his faculties,
from a higher and more certain source than mere human aid. Johnson says,
"he paid him a visit at Islington, where he was then waiting for his
sister, whom he had directed to meet him: there was then nothing of
disorder discernible in his mind by any but himself; but he had
withdrawn from study, and travelled with no other book than an English
Testament, such as children carry to the school: when his friend took
it into his hand, out of curiosity to see what companion a man of
letters had chosen, 'I have but one book,' said Collins, 'but that is
the best.'"
To this circumstance Hayley beautifully alludes in his epitaph on him:
He,
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