426 
THOMAS CHATTERTON. 
Thomas Chatterton,” in which he avowed his determination to put an 
end to his life on'the following day, which was Easter Sunday, 1770. 
On discovering it, Mr. Lambert immediately dismissed him from his 
house and service, in which he had lived upwards of two years and 
nine months. As he did not then put his threat into execution, it is 
probable that it was an artifice to obtain his dismission ; especially 
as he had before terrified Mr. Lambert’s mother and the servants with 
similar intimations. He had acquired so little law in this situation, 
that he was unable to draw up a legal discharge from his appren- 
ticeship. 
London was now the great object of his views, as the only proper mart 
for his abilities, and an intimate friend of Chatterton has furnished us 
with his own account of his plans for the metropolis. “ My first attempt,” 
said be, “ shall be in tfie literary way : the promises I have received 
are sufficient to dispel doubt ; but should I, contrary to expectation, 
find myself deceived, I will in that case turn Methodist preacher. 
Credulity is as potent a deity as ever, and a new sect may easily be 
devised. But if that too should fail me, my last and final resource 
is a pistol.” This is certainly not the language of a simple ingenuous 
youth, smit with the love of sacred song — a Beattie’s minstrel, as 
some of Chatterton’s sentimental admirers have chosen to paint him. 
On his arrival in London, he applied to the booksellers, his former 
correspondents, and immediately engaged in a variety of literary 
labours, which required equal industry and versatility of parts. A 
history of England, a history of London, a magazine, essays in the 
daily papers, and songs for the public gardens, were among his 
actual or projected tasks. Above all, party politics were his darling- 
pursuit. He connected himself as intimately as he could with the 
patriots of the day ; and was extravagantly elated with an introduction 
to the celebrated city magistrate, Mr. Beckford. Soon finding, how- 
ever, that money was scarce on the opposition side, he observed to a 
friend, that he was a poor author who could not w'rite on both sides ; 
and he was not long in adopting this prudential maxim. For a time, 
it appears, that he indulged himself in the most sanguine hopes of 
attaining distinction and affluence by the exertions of his pen ; and 
his letters to his friends were filled with visionary prospects of this 
sort, partially excusable in a youth not eighteen. It is right to men- 
tion, as a proof of the tenderness of his social affections, that the 
prospect of being able to assist his family, and raise them from their 
humble sphere, appears to have given him peculiar pleasure ; nor did 
he omit to send them little presents out of his first gains. 
His taste for dissipation, however, kept pace with his hopes ; and 
he asserted, that to frequent places of public amusement was as ne- 
cessary to him as food.” Yet it would seem, that with respect to the 
grosser pleasures of sense, he still preserved a temperate restriction. 
What occasioned the very sudden change in his expectations, does 
not clearly appear. He probably found that he had nothing to hope 
from the patronage of the great, and that he must henceforth depend 
upon the booksellers for a scanty and hard-earned subsistence. This 
severely mortified his pride, and seems to have disgusted him with 
his literary labours. He even wished to quit the scene of his disap- 
