THE hill it was high

As the maiden did climb,

And O she wished for her true love nigh,

And dearly she wished for the time

That she might be by

Her own true love of the azure sky.

The hill it was fair,

And sweet was the air,

But her true love was not nigh;

The cowslips look gay,

Her love is on his way,

And they meet on the hill of the sky.

AN EPIC UPON WINTER.

IN January or November's cold,

When stern winter his sceptre doth hold

By farm, or common side, or village lane, Or where the sturdy peasant

Doth drive a drain,

Cutting his way

Oft through the frozen clay;
Sometimes dressing a hedge,
Lopping away the cumbrous sedge-
There the fendifair, in numerous wing,
To taste, now fresh, the oozing spring,
And flock in the copse or on the bough,
In winter's merriment to dow.
Perhaps, near a gravel-pit,
Where doth the swiller boy
To carry sand his time employ,
The little sandybird doth sit
Upon a twig,

In expectation big

Or robin or blackbird in haste

The new brown atom to taste,
And pick their welcome cheer,
In winter's month so often drear.

To attach any undue importance to these irregular verses would be absurd; but the inborn love of nature is still discernible in the disjointed imagery and the poor rudderless words. Both pieces bear the author's initials, "L. C., " and are dated from "St. Peters."

While at St. Peters, Clennell appears to have been harmless; but in 1831 he again became unmanageable, and was placed in an asylum, where he remained until he died. In 1844 a monumental

tablet by R. Davies, a local sculptor, was erected to his memory in St. Andrew's Church, Newcastle.

It is difficult to determine the precise limits of talents so fatally interrupted, or to decide definitely whether their possessor should or should not be included among "the inheritors of unfulfilled renown." When attacked by his malady he was six-and-thirty, and if there be any truth in the axiom of Joseph de Maistre that "he who has not conquered at thirty will never conquer," Clennell had already passed that critical stage. But we do not place much faith in the utterance in question, and, setting speculation aside, it may fairly be affirmed of him that he was, after Nesbit, the best engraver among Bewick's pupils; and that when his mind gave way he was beginning to show powers of a higher kind as an artist, particularly in the line of landscape and rustic scenes. His distinguishing qualities are breadth, spirit, and rapidity of handling, rather than finish and minuteness; and the former characteristics are usually held to be superior to the latter. His unfortunate story invests them with an additional interest.

CHAPTER XII.

HARVEY, JACKSON, ETC.

WILLIAM HARVEY, the third of Bewick's pupils who attained to any distinction, is known chiefly as a designer on wood, and for a considerable period held the foremost place in the profession. In these days, when artists of this class are so numerous, it is difficult to understand how one man could completely command the field; and yet it seems certain that, about 1830-40, Harvey was the sole person to whom engravers could apply for an original design with security, and who devoted himself exclusively to the preparation of such designs. The history of wood-engraving," says a writer in the "Art Union" for 1839, "for some years past, is almost a record of the works of his (Harvey's) pencil." It was the custom to