We hope, against hope,
that the forgery is not proved.
Chatterton was born in Bristol, on the Avon, in 1752, of poor parents, but
early gave signs of remarkable genius, combined with a prurient ambition.
A friend who wished to present him with an earthen-ware cup, asked him
what device he would have upon it. "Paint me," he answered, "an angel with
wings and a trumpet, to trumpet my name over the world." He learned his
alphabet from an old music-book; at eight years of age he was sent to a
charity-school, and he spent his little pocket-money at a circulating
library, the books of which he literally devoured.
At the early age of eleven he wrote a piece of poetry, and published it in
the _Bristol Journal_ of January 8, 1763; it was entitled _On the last
Epiphany, or Christ coming to Judgment_, and the next year, probably, a
_Hymn to Christmas-day_, of which the following lines will give an idea:
How shall we celebrate his name,
Who groaned beneath a life of shame,
In all afflictions tried?
The soul is raptured to conceive
A truth which being must believe;
The God eternal died.
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