1858.] THE CLENT HILLS. 389 



reflected, and our business now is with facts, not with feelings. 

 But if these terrific fires do not remind the reader of classical 

 English poetry of that dismal place where the palace of Pande- 

 monium was erected, we do not know anything or any place on 

 earth that will. There are gleams and flickers from the heaps 

 of coal burning into coke, blazes and sparks from the tall and 

 from the stumpy chimneys, and a steady red glare from the 

 furnaces themselves. 



In broad daylight these are not noticed, except when in 

 proximity to the fiery objects. Clent itself is singularly free 

 from all these necessary nuisances, A single manufactory of 

 scythe-blades at Belbroughton, two or three miles distant, is the 

 only place which reminds one of Vulcan^s sons, or of the grand 

 workshop of the world. 



Before concluding this, the picturesque part of our theme, we 

 venture to quote a few lines from the elegant and amiable poet 

 of the ' Seasons.' That it refers to the Clent Hills and their 

 views and scenic beauties there is ample proof, both from the 

 beginning of this eloquent address to the noble and courteous 

 occupant and owner of Hagley Hall, as well as from the descrip- 

 tion of the scene : — 



" O Lyttelton, the friend ! thy passions thus 

 And meditations vary, as at large, 

 Courting the Muse, thro' Hagley Park thou stray'st. 

 The British Tempe ! There, along the dale. 

 With woods o'erhung, and shagg'd with mossy rocks. 

 Etc. etc. (A poetic embeUishmeut.) 



Meantime you gain the height from whose fair brow 



The bursting jjrospect spreads immense around ; 



And snatch'd o'er hill and dale, and wood and lawn 



And verdant field and darkening heath between ; 



And villages embosom'd soft in trees, 



And spu'y towns by surging columns marked 



Of household smoke, your eye excursive roams, 



Wide stretching from the Hall in whose kind haunt 



The hospitable genius hngers stUl, 



To where the broken lanskip, by degrees 



Ascending, roughens into rigid hiUs ; 



O'er which the Cambrian momitains, like far clouds 



That skirt the blue horizon, dusky rise." 



If any readers of Thomson will compare this brief description 

 of the mossy rocks, Clent-hill views, British Tempe and all, with 



