"in reviving reason's lucid hours,
Sought on _one_ book his troubled mind to rest,
And rightly deem'd the Book of God the best."

A journey to Bath proved as useless as the one to France; and in 1754,
he went to Oxford for change of air and amusement, where he stayed a
month. It was on this occasion that a friend, whose account of him will
be given at length, saw him in a distressing state of restraint under
the walls of Merton College. From the paucity of information respecting
Collins, the following letters are extremely valuable; and though the
statements are those of his friends, they may be received without
suspicion of partiality, because they are free from the high colouring
by which friendship sometimes perverts truth.

The first of the letters in question was printed in the Gentleman's
Magazine:

"Jan. 20, 1781.

"MR. URBAN,

"WILLIAM COLLINS, the poet, I was intimately acquainted with, from
the time that he came to reside at Oxford. He was the son of a
tradesman in the city of Chichester, I think a hatter; and being
sent very young to Winchester school, was soon distinguished for
his early proficiency, and his turn for elegant composition. About
the year 1740, he came off from that seminary first upon roll,[5]
and was entered a commoner of Queen's college. There, no vacancy
offering for New College, he remained a year or two, and then was
chosen demy of Magdalen college; where, I think, he took a degree.
As he brought with him, for so the whole turn of his conversation
discovered, too high an opinion of his school acquisitions, and a
sovereign contempt for all academic studies and discipline, he
never looked with any complacency on his situation in the
university, but was always complaining of the dulness of a college
life. In short, he threw up his demyship, and, going to London,
commenced a man of the town, spending his time in all the
dissipation of Ranelagh, Vauxhall, and the playhouses; and was
romantic enough to suppose that his superior abilities would draw
the attention of the great world, by means of whom he was to make
his fortune.

"In this pleasurable way of life he soon wasted his little
property, and a considerable legacy left him by a maternal uncle,
a colonel in the army, to whom the nephew made a visit in
Flanders during the war. While on his tour he wrote several
entertaining letters to his Oxford friends, some of which I saw.