in our cut, he dated his first communication to Horace
Walpole. It is immediately in front of the Exchange, and although the
lower part has been altered frequently within remembrance, the upper
part remains as when Lambert rented it. It may be noted, that the upper
floors of the adjacent houses are still devoted to lawyers' and
merchants' offices.

[7] The great Bristol merchant, William Canynge, jun., is buried in
Redcliffe Church, to which he was a great benefactor, as he was to the
city of Bristol generally. He entered the church to avoid a second
marriage, and was made Dean of the College of Westbury, which he had
rebuilt. There are two monuments to his memory in Redcliffe Church, both
of which are seen in our engraving. One is a raised altar tomb with an
enriched canopy; and upon the tomb lie the effigies of Canynge and his
wife in the costume of the fifteenth century. The other tomb is of
similar construction, and is believed to have been brought here from
Westbury College; it represents Canynge in his clerical robes, his head
supported by angels, and resting his feet on the figure of a Saracen.
Here Chatterton frequently ruminated; indeed, the whole church abounds
with memorials which call to mind the sources of his inspiration; near
the door is an effigy inscribed "Johannes Lamyngton," which gave name to
one of his forgeries. He was never weary of rambling in and about the
church, and all his early works originated here.

[8] The muniment-room is a large low-roofed apartment over the beautiful
north porch of Redcliffe Church, which was constructed by Canynge. It is
hexagonal, and lighted by narrow unglazed windows. The floor rests on
the groined stones of the porch, strong beams of oak forming its roof.
It is secured by two massive doors in the narrow passage leading from
the stairs into it. Here were preserved several large chests, and among
them _Canynge's cofre_; from which Chatterton assured the world he had
obtained the Rowley MSS.; and from which MSS. were carried away and
destroyed, but the old chests still remain. There are seven in all, and
they bear traces of great antiquity. Many have been strongly bound with
iron, but all are now in a state of decay. This lonely cheerless room,
strewn with antique fragments and suggestive of the boy-poet's
day-dreams, is certainly the most interesting relic in Bristol. Its
comfortless neglect is a true epitome of the life of him who first
shaped his course from his