De Quincey's old servant at Worcester has pointed out the rooms of his famous master, on No. Ten Staircase.
De Quincey entered the college about 1803, on an allowance of one hundred pounds a year. Very little is known of his life there.
Dr. Cotton, the head of the College, remembered him as a quiet and studious man, who did not frequent wine-parties, although he was not an abstainer. He was remarkable, even in those days, for his rare conversational powers and for his extraordinary stock of information upon all sorts of subjects. He did not make many friends, but he read a great deal; and he was looked upon, generally, as a very uncommon person. He had tasted the destructive drug in London, but it was in Oxford that he became addicted to its use, although not yet its slave. He passed a very brilliant written examination for his degree of B. A., but he never appeared for it in person; and he left Oxford without it. His name was taken off the College books in 1810 and he went to London to find solace in Charles Lamb, in the opera, and in opium.
When De Quincey was at Oxford, says James Hogg, Worcester was in bad repute. There were no very good tutors, and the young men there were greatly low in point of attainment, and very
