met at Bath at the house of a common friend. De Quincey saw George III, who talked to him about the De Quincey family. He then took a tour to his friend's family in Ireland in 1800, where he was present at the last sitting of the Irish House of Lords. Returning to England, he paid a visit to Lord Carbery's seat at Laxton, Northamptonshire. Lady Carbery, a clever woman, about ten years his senior, had been a Miss Watson. She had known the De Quinceys and made a pet of Thomas in his childhood. She now regarded him as an Admirable Crichton, consulted him in her Greek studies and in theological questions, and tried in return to teach him to ride. In 1801 he was sent by his guardians to the Manchester grammar school. A residence of three years would entitle him to an exhibition of forty guineas, which, added to his allowance of 150l., would enable him to proceed to Oxford. The master, Charles Lawson, was a good scholar, but already growing old; he had drunk the Pretender's health with Byrom, had been disappointed in love, and had become an infirm recluse and an inefficient master. The time allowed to his pupils for exercise had dwindled into nothing. De Quincey's liver became deranged, and he was dosed to excess by a stupid apothecary. The intellectual standard of the school was apparently high. De Quincey's mother had subscribed for him to the Manchester Library, and he had friends outside the school. Lady Carbery passed the winter at Manchester and made him her associate in Hebrew studies. He formed an intimacy with John Clowes [q. v.] the Swedenborgian, then an old man, who took a final leave of secular studies by giving away the last remnant of his classical library, a Clarke's ‘Odyssey,’ to De Quincey. He made the acquaintance also of Roscoe and Currie, the biographer of Burns, while visiting some friends at Liverpool. His ill-health, however, and the monotonous routine of the school made him wretched, and he entreated to be removed. His guardians were obdurate, and at last he determined to run away. He obtained a loan of ten guineas from Lady Carbery and escaped from the house in July 1802. He had thoughts of going to the lakes, a district already associated in his mind with Wordsworth's poetry. He had read ‘We are Seven’ in 1799, and in 1803 he opened a correspondence with Wordsworth himself. Meanwhile he resolved to go to Wales, after visiting Chester, where his mother was settled, and obtaining a secret interview with his sister. He reached Chester on foot in two days; the news of his flight had preceded him, the sister had set off in pursuit of the fugitive, and some servants who saw him near the house brought out his uncle, Colonel Penson, then at home on furlough. Penson rather sympathised with the boy's dislike of school, and it was agreed that he should be permitted to carry out his Welsh plan with an allowance of a guinea a week. He rambled for some time among the mountains, and made acquaintance with a German, De Haren, who initiated him in the study of Richter and other German authors. Living was ridiculously cheap, and he sometimes saved money by bivouacking in the open air, or lived upon bread and milk at hospitable farmhouses, repaying his entertainers by writing letters on love or business, and by the charm of his conversation. He felt the absence of books, and the larger hotels, where alone he could meet with educated conversers, were too expensive. He was resolved, however, to be independent of his guardians, and finally determined to go to London, hoping to raise 200l. which would supply him sufficiently until his majority. His London adventures are described in some of the most interesting chapters of the ‘Confessions.’ The money-lender to whom he applied was dilatory. His money vanished, and he was then allowed to sleep in a house in Greek Street, Soho, belonging to a disreputable but not unkindly attorney called Brunell, who acted as agent for money-lenders. Here he encamped at night with a neglected child for his sole companion, wandering about the streets and parks during the day. He made friends with outcast women who were kind to him, and especially with a girl called Ann, who once spent her last sixpence upon a glass of wine to revive him in a fainting fit. At last a family friend accidentally met him and gave him a 10l. note. He then went to Eton to try to get some security signed by his friend Lord Westport. Lord Westport was absent, but he obtained a promise from another acquaintance, Lord Desart, and returned to London. He now lost all traces of Ann, although they had arranged for a meeting, nor could he ever hear of her again. The money-lenders made difficulties about Lord Desart's conditions, but an unexplained accident suddenly led to reconciliation with his friends. He returned to Chester and was sent to Worcester College, Oxford, with an allowance of 100l. a year. The inadequacy of the sum caused new recourse to the money-lenders. Oxford seems to have made little impression upon De Quincey. London, the provost of Worcester, is said to have formed a high opinion of his talents. He was known for his conversational power, and regarded as a quiet and studious man. He studied
