Review, vol. xxxii. p. 294.) But the efforts of the publisher were vain; the poems were above the taste of the age; the sale was most unsuccessful; and the indignant author burned with his own hands the copies that remained.

"In what strange torpor," says sir E. Brydges, were the fancy, the feelings, and the taste of the nation buried, when they could receive with indifference the Ode on the Passions, and the Odes to Fear, and to Evening! But these perhaps are too abstract for the multitude, who cannot admire them till long established authority supersedes their own judgments. So it was even with Milton, whose early compositions, the Lycidas, L'Allegro, and Il Penseroso, the very essence of poetry, were little noticed by his contemporaries, while the vile doggrel of such wretched rhymers as Cleveland, and Brome, and others of the same stamp, was universally praised and admired.”—Censura Literaria, vol. iii. p. 340.

But these odes did not escape the notice of Gray, on whose opinion of them I shall offer no remarks. He thus writes to Mr. Wharton, Dec. 27, 1746. "Have you seen the works of two young authors, a Mr. Warton, and Mr. Collins, both writers of odes? It is odd enough, but each is the half of a considerable man, and one the counterpart of the other. The first has but little invention, very poetical choice of expression, and a good ear. The second, a fine fancy, modelled upon the antique, a bad ear, great variety of words and images, with no choice at all.

b Joseph Warton, who published a small volume of odes at the very time those of Collins appeared.

They both deserve to last some years, but will not.” -Mitford's Gray, vol. ii. p. 169, 4to.

In June 1749 our poet published An Ode occasioned by the death of Mr. Thomson.

The following letter shows that Collins and Joseph Warton intended to publish a joint volume of their odes: Mr. Wooll, (in whose Memoirs of Dr. J. Warton it originally appeared, p. 14,) thinks that the work was really published, but he is undoubtedly mistaken:

I

"DEAR TOM,-You will wonder to see my 1 name in an advertisement next week, so I thought I would apprise you of it. The case was this. Collins met me in Surrey, at Guilford races, when I wrote out for him my odes, and he likewise communicated some of his to me; and being both in very high spirits, we took courage, resolved to join our forces, and to publish them immediately. flatter myself that I shall lose no honour by this publication, because I believe these odes, as they now stand, are infinitely the best things I ever wrote. You will see a very pretty one of Collins's, on the death of Colonel Ross before Tournay. It is addressed to a lady who was Ross's intimate acquaintance, and who, by the way, is Miss Bett Goddard. Collins is not to publish the odes unless he gets ten guineas for them. I returned from Milford last night, where I left Collins with my mother and sister, and he sets out to-day for London. I must now tell you, that I have sent him your imitation of Horace's Blandusian Fountain, to be printed amongst ours, and which you shall own or not, as you think

proper. I would not have done this without your consent, but because I think it very poetically and correctly done, and will get you honour. You will let me know what the Oxford critics say.

66

Adieu, dear Tom,

"I am your most affectionate brother,

"J. WARTON."

Without a date of time or place.

.

The following letter, (preserved in Seward's Supplement to the Anecdotes of Distinguished Persons, p. 123,) informs us, that an Ode on the Music of the Grecian Theatre, with which Collins seems as well satisfied as with The Passions, has been unfortunately lost to posterity:

"SIR,-Mr. Blackstone of Winchester some time since informed me of the honour you had done me at Oxford last 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 Edipus, Medea, Electra, Orestes, etc. etc. The composition too is probably more correct, as I have chosen the ancient tragedies for my mo

dels, 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 y 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.

“To Dr. William Hayes, professor of music, Oxford.”

Note 8, p. 3. His appearance was decent and manly.

Langhorne thus describes him: "Mr. Collins was, in stature, somewhat above the middle size; of a brown complexion, keen, expressive eyes, and a fixed, sedate aspect, which, from intense thinking, had contracted an habitual frown."

Noté 9, p. 3. His disposition cheerful.

"This great poet did not often wander into the gayer and lively scenes. of his art. The following verses by him, on a quack doctor of Chichester, are still remembered in that city:

Seventh son of doctor John,

Physician and chirurgeon,

Who hath travell'd wide and far,
Man-midwife to a man of war,

C

In Chichester hath ta'en a house,
Hippocrates, Hippocratous.

Collins was extremely attached to a young lady, who was born the day before him, and who did not return his passion with equal ardour. He said, on that occasion, that he came into the world a day after the fair."-Seward's Suppl. to Anec. of Dist. Per. p. 125.

"We cannot," says Mr. D'Israeli, "decide of the temper of a man viewed only in a circle of friends, who listen to the ebullitions of wit or fancy; the social warmth for a moment throws into forgetfulness his secret sorrow. The most melancholy man is frequently the most delightful companion, and peculiarly endowed with the talent of satirical playfulness and vivacity of humour. But what was the true life of Collins, separated from its adventitious circumstances? It was a life of want, never chequered by hope, that was striving to elude its own observation by hurrying into some temporary dissipation. But the hours of melancholy and solitude were sure to return; these were marked on the dial of his life, and when they struck, the gay and lively Collins, like one of his own enchanted beings, as surely relapsed into his natural shape."-Calam. of Auth. vol. ii. p. 205.

Note 10, p. 3. His uncle, Mr. Martin, a lieu

tenant-colonel.

On the following line of Pope,

Wash Bladen white, and expiate Hays's stain, (Dunc. iv. 560.) Dr. J. Warton thus remarks: "Colonel Martin Bladen was a man of some literature, and trans