In memory of John Martin, historical painter, born at Haydon Bridge, Northumberland, 19th July 1789, died at Douglas, Isle of Man, 17th February 1854.

Martin was a man greatly esteemed, and did much to promote intercourse between men and women devoted to literature, science, and art. Mr. Samuel Carter Hall, in his pleasant “Memoirs of Great Men,” supplies a genial sketch of this artist. “Martin, like so many other artists,” says Mr. Hall, “had a terrible wrestle with adversity on his way to fame. I remember his telling me that once he ‘owned’ a shilling; it was needful to hoard it, but, being very hungry, he entered a baker’s shop to buy a penny loaf. To his shame and dismay, he found the shilling was a bad one. ‘So long afterwards,’ added the painter, then at the realisation of his hopes and aims, ‘when I had a shilling, I took care to get it changed into penny-pieces.’”

A gravestone in the churchyard of Santon Parish Church contains the following curious inscription:—

Here, friend, is little Daniel’s tomb—
To Joseph’s age he did arrive.
Sloth killing thousands in their bloom,
While labour kept poor Dan alive.
How strange, yet true, full seventy years
Was his wife happy in her tears!

Daniel Tear died 9th December 1707, aged 110 years.

Epitaphs on Notable Persons.

We have under this heading some curious graveyard gleanings on remarkable men and women. Our first is from a tombstone erected in the churchyard of Spofforth, at the cost of Lord Dundas, telling the remarkable career of John Metcalf, better known as “Blind Jack of Knaresborough”:—

Here lies John Metcalf, one whose infant sight
Felt the dark pressure of an endless night;
Yet such the fervour of his dauntless mind,
His limbs full strung, his spirits unconfined,
That, long ere yet life’s bolder years began,
The sightless efforts mark’d th’ aspiring man;
Nor mark’d in vain—high deeds his manhood dared,
And commerce, travel, both his ardour shared.
’Twas his a guide’s unerring aid to lend—
O’er trackless wastes to bid new roads extend;
And, when rebellion reared her giant size,
’Twas his to burn with patriot enterprise;
For parting wife and babes, a pang to feel,
Then welcome danger for his country’s weal.
Reader, like him, exert thy utmost talent given!
Reader, like him, adore the bounteous hand of Heaven.