ons!

An extraordinary circumstance occurred on the death of Anthony Collins.
He left behind him a considerable number of his own manuscripts, there
was one collection formed into eight octavo volumes; and that they might
be secured from the common fate of manuscripts, he bequeathed them all,
and confided them to the care of our Des Maizeaux. The choice of Collins
reflects honour on the character of Des Maizeaux, yet he proved unworthy
of it! He suffered himself to betray his trust, practised on by the
earnest desire of the widow, and perhaps by the arts of a Mr. Tomlinson,
who appears to have been introduced into the family by the
recommendation of Dean Sykes, whom at length he supplanted, and whom the
widow, to save her reputation, was afterwards obliged to discard.[18] In
an unguarded moment he relinquished this precious _legacy of the
manuscripts_, and accepted _fifty guineas as a present_. But if Des
Maizeaux lost his honour in this transaction, he was at heart an honest
man, who had swerved for a single moment; his conscience was soon
awakened, and he experienced the most violent compunctions. It was in a
paroxysm of this nature that he addressed the following letter to a
mutual friend of the late Anthony Collins and himself.

SIR, _January 6, 1730._

I am very glad to hear you are come to town, and as you are my best
friend, now I have lost Mr. Collins, give me leave to open my heart
to you, and to beg your assistance in an affair which highly concerns
both Mr. Collins's (your friend) and my own honour and reputation.
The case, in few words, stands thus:--Mr. Collins by his last will
and testament left me his manuscripts. Mr. Tomlinson, who first
acquainted me with it, told me that Mrs. Collins should be glad to
have them, and I made them over to her; whereupon she was pleased to
present me with fifty guineas. I desired her at the same time to take
care they should be kept safe and unhurt, which she promised to do.
This was done the 25th of last month. Mr. Tomlinson, who managed all
this affair, was present.

Now, having further considered that matter, I find that I have done a
most wicked thing. I am persuaded that I have betrayed the trust of a
person who, for twenty-six years, had given me continual instances of
his friendship and confidence. I am convinced that I have acted
contrary to the will and intention of my