writing-usher to a classical school. He was afterwards appointed one of the choir in the Cathedral of Bristol, and subsequently became the master of the Freeschool, situated in Pyle-street, in the same city, which latter situations he continued to hold conjointly till the time of his death, which took place in August, 1752, three months before the birth of his son, who was thus ushered, a posthumous child, into the world. This parent, if we may credit the statements and authorities of the poet's last biographer, was scarcely competent to have supplied the careful attention and control for which Dr. Gregory-on the boy's partdeplores his premature loss.1 That he was clever and fond of study, there is evidence to prove. He believed, moreover, in magic, and was deeply read in Cornelius Agrippa.

Of the mother of Chatterton little is known previous to her husband's death. She appears to have been a plain, worthy woman; of gentle, though some

1 That he (Chatterton's father) was a man of some talent and shrewdness, is evident from the various testimonials of those who knew him well; but he was inclined to dissipated habits, and was of a "brutal disposition." The house in which he lived had only two sitting-rooms, and he often passed the whole night roaring out catches in one of them, with some of the lowest rabble of the parish. His wife he always treated with the greatest indifference, and once, on being asked why he married her, he coolly replied, “solely for a housekeeper." That he was not likely to experience much "careful attention" from his father may be inferred from the fact of the ill-usage Mrs. Chatterton received from him; and few will doubt, that, as the wife was treated with harshness and neglect, the son would have experienced similar treat ment.-Dix's Life of Chatterton.—(1837.)

what melancholy disposition,-of mild and amiable qualities, and possessing withal a most devoted attachment to her children, of which Thomas, the subject of this memoir, was the second, the eldest, a girl, being at the time of his birth apparently some years old. In order to support her family, now relying entirely on her own exertions, she opened a day-school, and advertised herself as a milliner or sempstress-a resource which the attention of her neighbours, who very greatly esteemed her, appears to have rendered valuable, both by their patronage and assistance.

The infancy of Chatterton is distinguished by little that is worthy of record. At the age of five years, he was sent to the school in Pyle-street, formerly under the superintendence of his father, and then kept by a Mr. Love. Here, however, he exhibited no symptoms of that precocious genius which, ere long, was to "make grey-headed erudition bend before it." On the contrary, he was remarkably dull and stupid, receiving into his apparently obtuse skull no portion of the luminous instruction which the pedagogue of a free-school could be supposed to impart.

Indeed, it seemed pretty plain that the young Chatterton was about to turn out an incorrigible dunce. The most ordinary attainments acquired by the generality of children while yet in the nurse's arms,-the commonest rudiments of knowledge, the very letters of the alphabet, though insinuated by no harsh master, but by the care of a fond and anxious mother, seemed to baffle every attempt made to penetrate the hopeless stupidity which there was reason to apprehend he would always exhibit. This circumstance appears to have caused his poor parent, to whom he was sent

back on the score of incapacity, a great deal of uneasiness; and we are told by a neighbour, that "until he was six years and a half old, she thought him to be an absolute fool, and often when correcting him, told him so."

But a change was soon to be displayed. There chanced to be in her possession an old musical manuscript, in French, and adorned with illuminated capitals. It arrested the child's attention: to use his mother's words, he "fell in love" with it.1 He began to read. An ancient black-letter Bible, which she brought to her assistance, completed the attraction. Thomas Chatterton was no more a dunce.

His mental cultivation now commenced in earnest. He read with the utmost avidity. He stormed the bookshelves of all his acquaintance. He devoured, not volumes, but libraries. "At seven," says the same neighbour, who was much in the house, "he visibly improved at eight years of age he was so eager for books, that he read from the moment he waked, which was early, until he went to bed, if they would let him.”

1 He was taught to read from an old black-letter Testament, or Bible. Perhaps the bent of most men's studies may, in some measure, be determined by accident, and frequently in very early life; nor is it unreasonable to suppose that his peculiar attachment to antiquities may, in a considerable degree, have resulted from this little circumstance.-DR. GREGORY.

One of his biographers [Chalmers] has expressed surprise that a person in his mother's rank of life should have been acquainted with black-letter. The writer might have known that books of the ancient type continued to be read in that rank of life long after they had ceased to be used by persons of a higher station.-CAMPBELL.

And the dreams of ambition were already commenced. A manufacturer promised to make the children a present of some earthenware-a cup or plaything that might gratify a child: he asked the boy what device should be inscribed on his. "Paint me,” replied the future creator of Rowley-"Paint me an angel, with wings and a trumpet, to trumpet my name over the world." This anecdote rests upon credible authority—that of his sister.

"My brother," writes the same relation, in her expressive letter to Sir Herbert Croft, "very early discovered a thirst for preeminence. I remember, before he was five years old he would always preside over his playmates as their master, and they his hired servants. He was dull in learning, not knowing many letters at four years old, and always objected to read in a small book. He learnt the alphabet from an old folio musicbook of my father's, my mother was then tearing up for waste paper: the capitals at the beginning of the verses I assisted in teaching him. I recollect nothing remarkable till he went into the school, which was in his eighth year, excepting his promising my mother and me a deal of finery, when he grew up, as a reward of her care."

The affection with which he regarded his relatives, whom throughout his life he distinguished by every token of regard, forms indeed one of the most interesting traits of his character. Here it began to manifest itself in the promise of fine clothes-of gauds and frippery-which no doubt his pen was to procure; and the child's dream of greatness derived additional splendour from the imagined glories of his bedizened friends.

Another change became apparent in him. He grew reserved and thoughtful. He was silent and gloomy for long intervals together, speaking to no one, and appearing angry when noticed or disturbed. He would break out into sudden fits of weeping, for which no reason could be assigned; would shut himself up in some chamber, and suffer no one to approach him, nor allow himself to be enticed from his seclusion. Often he would go the length of absenting himself from home altogether, for the space, sometimes, of many hours; and his sister remembered his being most severely chastised for a long absence; at which he did not however shed one tear, but merely said, "It was hard indeed to be whipped for reading."

Not unfrequently a search was instituted. His mother's house was close to the fine structure of St. Mary Redcliffe, and they well knew that the boy's favourite haunts were the aisles and towers of that noble pile. And there they would find the truant, seated generally by the tomb of Canynge, or lodged in one of the towers, reading sometimes, or what if thus early imagining Rowley? Stealing away in this manner, he would constantly awaken the solicitude of his friends, to whom his little eccentricities were already the source of much uneasiness.

In August, 1760, when he had not quite attained his eighth year, he was admitted into the school established at Bristol for charitable purposes, by one Edward Colston in 1708. This person, who was a merchant, and who by excess of industry possessed himself of almost unlimited wealth, has recorded his benevolent disposition in the numerous benefactions which he has bestowed on his native city. In this institution,