Will Catcott prove, to the fatisfaction of any perfon befide himself, that evidence is difcovered of the tower's having declined; or that C. could not poffibly know or judge that the tower had declined? If he can, ftill C. might by accident have hit upon such a thing, especially after he had seen the foregoing paffage about BurgeCastle. Chance makes luckier hits than this continually.

In February, p. 104, are fome lines, figned Afaphides, dated January 29, 1769—“ On Mr. "Alcock, a miniature painter, of Bristol." They are printed in Chatterton's Mifcellanies. But should they be thought inferior to other things in his own and Rowley's name; and should that inequality, which we are obliged to pardon in the greatest geniuses, be used as an argument against a boy; I know not any proof that he wrote this, or another poem which we find in April, p. 217, with the fame fignature. He almost always figned himself D. B. the initials of his firft Latin fignature, Dunhelmus Bristolienfis. He is here twice, and only twice, made to affume the ftrange name of Afaphides.

In March, p. 146, is inferted an encomium on Pope's pastorals from Ruffhead. In May, p. 272, we read the pastoral of Elinoure and Juga, from D. B. dated May 1769. ห

In

In April, p. 193, we find "remarks on the "works of fome of the moft eminent painters, " with fhort anecdotes of their lives." It was a little later, in the year 1769, than April, I think, that C. offered to furnish Mr. Walpole with Rowley's MS. of "a feries of great pain"ters that had flourished at Bristol."

In "an account of the most celebrated mo"nafteries in Europe," (April, p. 201) mention is made of the abbey of St. Alban's, which was fuppreffed at the diffolution of monafteries. The scene of Elinoure and Juga (in the next month, May, p. 272.) is laid on Ruddeborne bank, a river near St. Alban's (as we learn from Chatterton's notes); and after the dialogue, Elinoure and Juga

-moved gentle o'er the dewy mees,

To where St. Alban's holy fhrines remain.

In May, p. 272, immediately before his own Elinoure and Juga, is inferted a monody. Some of the lines, together with the motto, I shall tranfcribe.

Farewel the tranquil mind! farewel content!
Farewel the plumed troops, and the big war,
That make ambition virtue! Oh! farewel!
Farewel the neighing fteed, and the fhrill trump,
The spirit-firring drum, the ear-piercing fife,

The

The royal banner, and all quality,

Pride, pomp, and circumftance of glorious war!
And, oh! you mortal engines, whofe rude throats
Th'immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit,
Farewel!

Shakespeare,

Farewel, Calcaria, now farewel !

Meand'ring wharf adieu !

Ye neighb'ring vills, I cease to tell
What joys I fhar'd in you!

Farewel fair bridge, and Gothic pile, );
Adieu yon moat and mill !

No more yon murm'ring water-fall,

Its ruftic din I hear;

No more yon bells fo fweetly call
My fteps to wander there.

1

No more, dear F******* ! thy fweet fong)
Delights my lift'ning ear;

No more, dear Tom, thy fiddle's ftrung,..
My penfive foul to cheer.

No more, gay Flora, your guittar,

Though fraught with melody;
No more your voice, yet fweeter far,

Will fill my heart with glee.

No more, my friends, I join your joy,
Your concert, fong, or ball.

Adieu, delightful Bramham park,
Thy walks, thy meads, thy groves.

Thy proud pavillions, and thy cot,
With bomely thatch done o’er ;
Thy diftant views, thy rural grot,

Adieu! farewel!

Give me leave, now, to tranfcribe you a few lines from Rowley's firft eclogue. The old (and fometimes unintelligible) words, I will change for C's more modern ones in his notes.

Speak to me not; I ken thy woe in mine.
O! I've a tale the devil himself might tell.
Sweet flourets, mantled meadows, forefts dign,
And groves far-feen around the hermit's cell;
The fweet ribible dinning in the dell;
The joyous dancing in the alehouse court;
Eke the high fong and every joy-farewel!
Farewel the very shade of fair disport!

Of the impoffibility to prove imitation I am
well aware.
But for intentional imitation I
do not here contend. The originality of C's
fublime genius would not have ftooped from its
height to imitate any man that ever wrote. The
question is, whether we perceive the remarkable
turn of Othello's farewel, and whether C's won-
derful memory had retained that, and the ruftic
din, the fiddle, guittar, &c. from a perusal of the
monody, without being confcious of it. C. him-
felf explains ribible to be a "violin," a mufical
inftrument

instrument, not known, I fancy, to the period at which the scene of this eclogue is laid; nor very natural in the eclogue, though truth might mark the propriety of it in the monody,By the nature of his plan, the folding doors of imitation were effectually shut against Chatterton, His hands were tied up from picking and stealing. What other poet, ancient or modern, except Homer (and even Homer had his ancients perhaps,), can produce an octavo volume, and fuch an octavo volume, in the whole courfe of which, after a fearch of fome years, the beft and oldest heads are not able to detect him with certainty more than fix or eight times? And those coincidences must of course have been the effect more of memory than defign. Rather different are the following coincidences; of which many (befide thofe they have the honefty to own) might be collected from every page of every poet but this boy.

Love, free as air, at fight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Pope. El. to Abelard.

For foon as maiftery comes, fweet love anone
Taketh his nimble wings, and foon away is gone.
Spenfer. 3. 1. 25. `

A few remarkable coincidences to which à few, and but a few, might still be added, are pointed out in a letter prefixed to C's Mifcell, which originally appeared in the St. James's Chro

nicle.

U3

Love