that period capable of apprehending and remembering his conversations.
In his lucid intervals he must have said many wise, many learned, and
many brilliant things; perhaps his very disease, in its vacillation
between light and darkness, may have struck out many unexpected and
surprising beauties, which common attendants were utterly incapable of
appreciating. The flushes of the mind under the unnatural impulses of
malady are sometimes inimitably splendid. His reason, at times, was
sound, for his reason was fervid to the last. But it is said that his
shrieks sometimes resounded through the cathedral cloisters of
Chichester till the horror of those who heard him was insupportable.

All these speculations may appear tedious to those whose curiosity is
confined to facts: but new facts regarding Collins are not to be had:
and what are facts unless they are accompanied by reflections,
conclusions, and sentiments? The use of facts is to teach us to think,
to judge, and to feel: and facts, regarding men of genius, are valuable
in enabling us to contemplate how far the gifts of high intellect
contribute to our happiness, or afford guides for the rest of mankind;
in what respects they have the possessors upon an equality with the herd
of the people; and where they expose them to temptations from which
others are free. For these purposes the ill fated Collins is a
melancholy illustration: the Muse had touched the lips of his infancy,
and infused her spirit into him; she had given him a piercing
understanding, and an amiable disposition and temper; she enabled him to
come forth with poetry of the first class, in the earliest bloom of
youth; and to deserve, if not to win, the envied laurel, which millions
have reached at in vain! What seeming glories and blessings were these!
Yet to how few was so much misery dispensed as to this once envied
being! May we not hope that his spirit now has its mighty reward?

Let it not be denied that there is high virtue in the culture of the
mind, when directed to pure and elevated objects, and accustoming itself
to travel in lofty paths! The mind cannot attain the necessary
refinement, nor have its sight cleared of the film of earthly grossness,
unless the heart throws off the dregs of coarser feeling, and keeps its
wings afloat on a lighter and airier atmosphere. It may be said, that
there have been bad men who have been great poets: but this position
remains to be proved. The dissolute men who