EWAN CLARK OF STANDING-STONE. WAN CLARK was born in the year 1734, * at Standing-stone, near Wigton. His brother, the Rev. Wilfrid Clark, was Vicar of the parish of Wigton for thirty-nine years. In his youth, Ewan Clark was in the army; but what experience he had of military life, or how long he served there, we have not been able to learn. his longest poem, The Rustic, he has left us a clever sketch of an old soldier, tired and worn out with a long day's march, part of which we quote :— In a close lane, A veteran soldier on his knapsack slept ; His remnant trunk, (its limbs were lopt away,) Spoke the fair stature of his perfect day. Oft in his slumbers would the old hero start, And mutter terms of military art; Grasp close his crutch, and impetuous cry, In "Charge, charge brave comrades-see, the Frenchmen fly!" In 1779, he published a volume of Miscellaneous Poems at Whitehaven, which contained his Pastorals in the Cumberland dialect. Mr. W. A. Fidler, of Standing-stone, has kindly furnished us with all our information respecting Ewan Clark. It was mostly gathered from an old gentleman, since dead, who left Clark's school in 1796, when he was twelve years old. He afterwards kept a school at Standing-stone, where he taught about fifty boys and girls the elements of a plain English education. His wife was a homely frugal dame, who spun her own linen, and gave the girls lessons in sewing during schoolhours-a branch of female instruction much neglected in our day. The school became famous for turning out good readers. Ewan Clark took great interest in the progress of his pupils, and was always anxious to promote their happiness by all means in his power. The children had few holidays; but once a year they were given free access to a garden full of gooseberries, behind the cottage, and allowed to frolic and play there as long as they pleased. His song I trudg'd up to Lunnon thro' thick and thro' thin, first appeared in Hutchinson's History of Cumberland. The Rustic, a poem in four cantos, was published in London, 1805, when its author was seventy years old. This poem, though unequal as a whole, contains passages worthy of Bloomfield or Clare. After passing a life of great retirement at Standingstone, Ewan Clark died May 26th, 1811, aged seventy-seven years. He was interred in Wigton church-yard, where a plain headstone marks his resting place. The family burial ground is adjoining. EWAN CLARK'S SONGS. I TRUDG'D UP TO LUNNON THRO' THICK AND THRO' THIN. [This clever song-full of playful, harmless satire-was written for the Cumberland Anniversary Society of London, and was sung with great eclat at their annual meeting held April 14th, 1785.] KEST off my clogs, hung th' kelt cwoat on a pin, And trudg'd up to Lunnon thro' thick and thro' thin, And hearing the fiddlers-guid fwoks-I've meade free To thrust mysel in, your divarshon to see. Derry down, &c. Odswinge! this is brave! canny Cummerland, oh! Derry down, &c. Since I's here, if you'll lend your lugs to my sang, I'll tell you how aw things in Cummerland gang; How we live-I mean starve-for, God bless the king! His ministers-darr them!-are nit quite the thing. Derry down, &c. Thur taxes! thur taxes! Lord help us, amen! Now countrymen these are hard laws, d'ye see. Derry down, &c. My honest plain neighbor, John Stoddart, declares Derry down, &c. The tax upon maut-argo, tax upon drink- And windows-ey, there I can feelingly speak- Derry down, &c. But dead or alive, I my taxes will pay, To enjoy every year the delights o' this day. I'll meet you neist year, and for twenty years mair! Derry down, &c. ENGLISH ALE. Whilst barley grows on British ground, Some praise the generous juice of wine, Of nectar, drink of gods we've heard, Mount then the tankard with full measure, |