these evidences of his industry and
genius, to find that all his ingenuity turned to the furtherance of a
fraud. He seems to have been morally dead to every thing like the
disgrace attending falsehood; for, when struggling afterwards in London
to appear prosperous while starving, he wrote home to Mr. Catcott, and
concludes his letter by stating that he intended going abroad as a
_surgeon_, adding, "Mr. Barrett has it in his power to assist me
greatly, by _his giving me a physical character_; I hope he will." He
seems to have had no idea that he was asking Mr. Barrett to do a
dishonest action.

But the grand fraud of his short life was boldly dared by this boy in
his sixteenth year. Why he should have ever descended to forge when he
felt the high pressure of genius so strong within him, is inexplicable.
Why, with his daring pride, he should have submitted to be considered a
transcriber, where he originated, is more than marvellous. The spell of
a benighting antiquity seemed around him; it might lead one to a belief
in "Gramarie"--that some fake spirit had issued forth from the "cofre of
Mr. Canynge,"[7] so long preserved in the room over the north porch of
this Bristol church of Redcliffe--a "_cofre_" secured by six keys, all
of which being lost or mislaid, the vestry ordered the "_cofre_" to be
opened; and not only "Canynge's _cofre_," but all the "_cofres_," in the
mysterious chamber: not from any love of antiquity, but because of the
hope of obtaining certain title-deeds supposed to be contained therein.
Well, these intelligent worthies, having found what concerned
themselves, took them away, leaving behind, _and open_, parchments and
documents which might have enriched our antiquarian literature beyond
all calculation.[8] Chatterton's father used to carry these parchments
away wholesale, and covered with the precious relics, bibles, and
school-books: most likely other officers of the church did the same.
After his death, his widow conveyed many of them, with her children and
furniture, to her new residence, and, woman-like, formed them into dolls
and thread-papers. In process of time, the child's attention being
aroused by the illuminated manuscripts, he conveyed every bit of
parchment he could find to a small den of a room in his mother's house,
which he called his own: and, when he grew a little older, set forth,
with considerable tact, in answer to all questions asked of him as to
how he obtained the poems and in