roner has no minutes of the melancholy buff nefs, and is unable to call any of the circumstances, at this distance of time, to his memory. The witneffes before the Inqueft, as appears by his memorandum, were Frederick Angell, Mary Fofter, William Hamsley: none of whom I have been able to find out. That his despair fhould fix on Auguft, that it fhould not have staid, at least, till the gloomier months of win ter, muft furprize those who are fenfible of the influence of fuch a climate as ours. Recollecting what Mrs. Newton fays of the effect the moon had upon her brother, I fearched for the moon's changes in Auguft, 1770. Much cannot be prefumed from them. The moon. was at the full on the 6th, and in the last quar ter the 14th. The 20th, at 11 at night, there was a new moon. The fatal day was the 24th. ---But who can bear to dwell upon, or argue about, the felf-deftruction of fuch a being as Chatterton? The motives for every thing he did are paft finding out..

His room, when it was broke open, after his death, was found, like the room he quitted:

at.

"known." Now, the manner is certainly known i the caufe (real indigence) is not. Can any one be fure he was not determined to feal his fecret with his death?

at Mr. Walmsley's, covered with little fcraps of paper. What a picture would he have made, with the fatal cup by his bedfide, destroying plans of future Ellas and Godwins, and unfinished books of the battle of Haftings? M. I have had the---(call it what you will) to spend half an hour in this room. It was half an hour of most exquifite fenfations. My vifit of devotion was paid in the morning, I remember; but I was not myself again all day. To look round the room; to fay to myfelf, here stood his bed; there the poifon was fet; in that window he loitered for fome hours before he retired to his last rest, envying the meaneft paffenger, and wifhing he could exchange his own feelings, and intellects, for their manual powers and infenfibility! Then, abhorrence of his death, abhorrence of the world, and I know not how many different and contradictory, but all distracting ideas! Nothing fhould tempt me to undergo fuch another half-hour.

Briftol, ftand forth! Too juft are even these rhymes
Without a trial to condemn thy crimes.

Come forward, anfwer to thy curfed name!
Stand, if thou dare, before the bar of fame.

Bristol, hold up thine hand, that damned hand

Which featters mifery over half a land,

The land of Genius!

3

But

But my indignation cannot stay for rhyme, yet it muft vent itself.

Tell me, Bristol, where is Savage?* Whither didst thou drive Hume ?+ Where haft thou hid the body of murdered Chatterton? Where are his mother and his fifter? Could not the female hand of charity ‡ spare one mite to the starving child

* Johnson's life of Savage.

"In 1734," fays Hume, in his life, "I went to Brif"tol, with fome recommendations to eminent merchants; but, in a few months, I found that scene totally unfuit<< able to me." In his history, fpeaking of Naylor the mad quaker, who fancied himself transformed into Chrift, we are told," he entered Bristol, mounted on a horse;"I fuppofe," adds Hume, "from the difficulty in that "place of finding an afs." 4to edition, 1770. vol. 7. p. 350.

The following is a lift of the late Mrs. Peloquin's pub. lic donations, who died at Bristol.

To the chamber of the City of Bristol, for the

child of Genius! Miferable Hamlet!* as Chatterton calls thee. Unworthy fuch a treasure ! Much more unworthy his guardian care! For, canft thou be sure, ungrateful city, the spirít of neglected Chatterton does not still beft dez light to haunt the place which gave him birth? Canft thou be certain his watchful providence did not lately extinguish the threatening flames of treafon? Perhaps, while I write, his fpirit protects your commerce;

Or, in black armour, ftalks around"
Embattled Briftol, once his ground,

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And glows, ardurous, on the castle stairs ;
Or, fiery, round the mynfter glares.
Perhaps for Bristol still he cares;
Guards it from foemen and confuming fire;
Like Avon's ftream enfyrkes it round,
Nor lets a flame enharm the ground,
Till in one flame all the whole world expire. ‡

But the feelings of the moment have hurried me away. Bristol is not culpable. She may be proud that the produced C. and need not, perhaps, blush for his death. Had he remained in

the

* See his fecond letter to his mother.
John the Painter.

See the conclufion of the "Song of Ælla,"

རྒྱན་ ན་

themiferable hamlet," Rowley must inèvitably have worked his way in the world." Sir Charles Bawdin" and the "fong of Ælla," were already known to fame. Rowley's other poems muft foon have blazed out-they could not, cold as was the age, have been kept much longer, even by the chilling hand of pewter patronage, from kindling a flame in the literary world, which haply might have cheered their author and Chatterton might, now (diftracting reflexion!); might, nine years ago; might, before he was twice nine years old; have been confidered as the most extraordinary prodigy of genius the world ever faw. Nay, had he continued at Briftol only a few weeks longer, had he continued in the world only a few days longer, he might have been preserved, For, oh my M. I have been affured that the late amiable Dr. Fry, head of St. John's in Oxford, went to Briftol the latter end of August 1770, in order to fearch into the history of Rowley and Chatterton, and to patronize the latter if he turned out to be the former, or to deferve affiftance-when, alas! all the intelligence he could pick up about either was, that Chatterton had, within a few days, deftroyed, himself.

Let