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POETICAL WORKS

WILLIAM COLLINS ;

WITH THE

COMMENTARY OF LANGHORNE.

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED,

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF COLLINS,

WRITTEN BY
DR. JOHNSON.

EMBELLISHED WITH ENGRAVINGS,

'FROM Tire: JESIGN) OF ME
RICHARD WESTALL, FS2. R. A.

LONDON:
PRINTED BY CHARI.ES WHITTINGHAM,

Dean Street ;
FOR JOHN SHARPE, OPPOSITE YORK HOUSE, PICCADILLY.

1804.

College; but unhappily there was no vacancy. This was the original misfortune of his life. He became a commoner of Queen's College, probably with a scanty maintenance; but was in about half a year elected a demy of Magdalen College, where he continued till he had taken a bachelor's degree, and then suddenly left the University; for what reason I know not that he told.

He now (about 1744) came to London a literary adventurer, with many projects in his head, and very little money in his pocket. He designed many works; but his great fault was irresolution, or the frequent calls of immediate necessity broke his schemes, and suffered him to pursue no settled purpose. A man, doubtful of his dipner; or*trembling at a creditor, is not můck disposed to abstracted meditation, or remote inquiries. He published proposals for a History of the Revival of Learning; and I have heard him speak with great kindness of Leo the Tenth, and with keen resentment of his tasteless successor. But probably not a page of the History was ever written. He planned several tragedies, but he only planned

them. He wrote now-and-then odes and other poems, and did something, however little.

About this time I fell into his company. His appearance was decent and manly; his knowledge considerable, his views extensive, his conversation elegant, and his disposition cheerful. By degrees I gained his confidence; and one day was admitted to him when he was immured by a bailiff, that was prowling in the street. On this occasion recourse was had to the booksellers, who, on the credit of a translation of Aristotle's Poetics, which he engaged to write with a large commentary, advanced as much money as enabled him to escape into the country. He shewed me the guineas safe in his hand. Soon afterwards his uncle, Mr. Martin, a lieutenant-colonel, left him about two thousand pounds; a sum which Collins could scarcely think exhaustible, and which he did not live to exhaust. The guineas were then repaid, and the translation neglected.

But man is not born for happiness ; Collins, who, while he studied to live, felt no evil but poverty, no sooner lived to study than his

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