in 1720.* He was introduced to Pope at an early period of his life; and, in return for the abundant adulation which he offered to that poet, was rewarded with his encouragement, and even his occasional assistance in versification. Yet, | admirer as he was of Pope, his manner leans more to the imitation of Dryden. In 1727 he published, by subscription, a volume of poems, which he dedicated to the Earl of Peterborough, who, as the author acknowledges, was the first patron of his muse. In the preface it is boasted, that the poems had been chiefly written under the age of nineteen. As he must have been several years turned of twenty, when he made this boast, it exposes either his sense or veracity to some suspicion. He either concealed what improvements he had made in the poems, or showed a bad judgment in not having improved them. His next publications, in 1730 and 1735, were an " Essay on Satire," and another on " Reason," to both of which Pope is supposed to have contributed many lines. Two sermons, which he printed, were so popular as to run through five editions. He therefore rose, with some degree of clerical reputation, to be principal of St. Mary Hall, Oxford; and was so much esteemed, that Lord Lyttelton recommended him to the Earl of Chesterfield, as the most proper tutor and travelling companion to his son. Harte had, indeed, every requisite for the preceptorship of Mr. Stanhope, that a Grævius or Gronovius could have possessed; but none of those for which we should have supposed his father to have been most anxious. He was profoundly learned, but ignorant of the world, and awkward in his person and address. His pupil and he, however, after having travelled together for four years, parted with mutual regret; and Lord Chesterfield showed his regard for Harte by procuring for him a canonry of Windsor. During his connection with Lord Peterborough, that nobleman had frequently recommended to him to write the life of Gustavus Adolphus. For this historical work he collected, during his travels, much authentic and original information. It employed him for many years, and was published in 1759; but either from a vicious taste, or from his having studied the idioms of foreign languages till he had forgotten those of his own, he wrote his history in a style so obscure and uncouth, that its merits, as a work of research, were overlooked, and its reception from the public was cold and mortifying. Lord Chesterfield, in speaking of its being translated into German, piously wishes that its author had translated it [* This according to Mr. Croker's showing, (Boswell, vol. i. p. 377) is not the case. The Walter Harte who took his degree of A.M. at Pembroke College, Oxford, in 1720, was not the poet; for he was of St. Mary's Hall, and made A.M. on the 21st January 1730. This one fact removes Mr. Campbell's after difficulties.] † Boswell Ly Croker, vol. iv. p. 449.] Harte's Life of Gustavus Adolphus, Mr. Chalmers tells us, was a very unfortunate publication. Hume's House of Tudor came out the same week, and Robertson's into English; as it was full of Germanisms, Latinisms, and all isms but Anglicisms." All the time, poor Harte thought he was writing a style less laboured and ornate than that of his cotemporaries; and when George Hawkins, the bookseller, objected to some of his most violent phrases, he used to say, "George, that is what we call writing." This infatuation is the more surprising, that his Sermons, already mentioned, are marked by no such affectation of manner; and he published in 1764 Essays on Husbandry," which are said to be remarkable for their elegance and perspicuity. Dr. Johnson, according to Boswell, said, "that Harte was excessively vain: that he left London on the day his Life of Gustavus' was published, to avoid the great praise he was to receive; but Robertson's History of Scotland' having come out the same day, he was ashamed to return to the scene of his mortification." This sarcastic anecdote comes in the suspicious company of a blunder as to dates, for Robertson's "History of Scotland" was published a month after [before?] Harte's "Life of Gustavus;" and it is besides rather an odd proof of a man's vanity, that he should have run away from expected compli ments. The failure of his historical work is alleged to have mortified him so deeply, as to have affected his health. All the evidence of this, however, is deduced from some expressions in his letters, in which he complains of frequent indisposition. His biographers, first of all take it for granted, that a man of threescore could not possibly be indisposed from any other cause than from reading harsh reviews of his "Life of Gustavus;" and then, very consistently, show the folly of his being grieved at the fate of his history, by proving that his work was reviewed, on the whole, rather in a friendly and laudatory manner. Harte. however, was so far from being a martyr, either to the justice or injustice of criticism, that he prepared a second edition of the "Life of Gusta. vus" for the press; and announced, in a note, that he had finished the "History of the thirty Years War in Germany." His servant Dore, afterward an innkeeper at Bath, got possession of his MSS. and this work is supposed to be irrecoverably lost. In the mean time, he was struck with a palsy in 1766, which attacked him again in 1769, and put a period to his life five years after. At the time of his death he was vicar of St. Austel and Blazy in Cornwall. His poetry is little read; and I am aware of hazarding the appearance of no great elegance of taste, in professing myself amused and in History of Scotland only a month before; and after perusing these, poor Harte's style could not certainly be endured. Mr. Chalmers perhaps may require to be told that industry in collecting, examining, and arranging the materials of history, and fidelity in using them, are the first qualities of an historian: that in those qualities Harte has not been surpassed; that in the opinion of military men Harte's is the best military history in our language, and that it is rising and will continue to rise in repute."-SOUTHEY, Quar. Rev. vol. xi. p. 497.] terested by several parts of it, particularly by his "Amaranth." In spite of pedantry and grotesqueness, he appears, in numerous passages, to have condensed the reflection and information of no ordinary mind. If the reader dislikes his story of "Eulogius," I have only to inform him, that I have taken some pains to prevent its being more prolix than is absolutely necessary, by the mechanical reduction of its superfluities. EULOGIUS: OR, THE CHARITABLE MASON. FROM THE GREEK OF PAULUS SYLLOGUS. In ancient times scarce talk'd of, and less known, When pious Justin fill'd the eastern throne, In a small dorp, till then for nothing famed, And by the neighbouring swains Thebaïs named, Eulogius lived: an humble mason he; In nothing rich but virtuous poverty. From noise and riot he devoutly kept, Sigh'd with the sick, and with the mourner wept; Half his earn'd pittance to poor neighbours went; They had his alms and he had his content. Still from his little he could something spare To feed the hungry, and to clothe the bare, He gave, whilst aught he had, and knew no bounds; The poor man's drachms stood for rich men's pounds; He learnt with patience, and with meekness taught, His life was but the comment of his thought. On the south aspect of a sloping hill, No stately larch-tree there expands a shade A nameless dwelling, and an unknown name! This spot, for dwelling fit, Eulogius chose, And then, without the aid of neighbours' art, Wife he had none: nor had he love to spare; They thank'd their Maker for a pittance sent, Four rooms, above, below, this mansion graced, No flesh from market-towns our peasant sought: Each barley-head untax'd, and daylight free :) Meanwhile God's blessings made Eulogius The happiest, most contented man alive. gave, content. Alternate were his labours and his rest, Eusebius, hermit of a neighb'ring cell, prayer; Make yonder man the fav'rite of thy care: One day, in turning some uncultured ground, Till a gay conscious pride, unknown as yet, Touch'd a vain heart, and taught it to forget: And what still more his stagg'ring virtue tried, His mother, tut'ress of that virtue, died. A neigb'ring matron, not unknown to fame, (Historians give her Teraminta's name,) The parent of the needy and distress'd, [blest: With large demesnes and well saved treasure (For, like th' Egyptian prince, she hoarded store To feed at periodic dearths the poor:) This matron, whiten'd with good works and age, Approach'd the sabbath of her pilgrimage; Her spirit to himself th' Almighty drew;Breath'd on th' alembic, and exhaled the dew. In souls prepared, the passage is a breath From time t' eternity, from life to death. But first, to make the poor her future care, She left the good Eulogius for her heir. Who but Eulogius now exults for joy? New thoughts, new hopes, new views his mind employ. Pride push'd forth buds at every branching shoot, Sought other objects than the tatter'd poor; stray; A famous Greek rhetorician in the fourth century, whose orations are still extant. And, wand'ring to the hermit's distant cell, At night a dream confirm'd the hermit more; His master's presence, nay, his name denied. There walk'd Eusebius at the dawn of light, There walk'd at noon, and there he walk'd at night. In vain. At length, by Providence's care, He found the door unclosed, nor servants near. He enter'd, and through several rooms of state Pass'd gently; in the last Eulogius sat. Old man, good morrow, the gay courtier cried; God give you grace, my son, the sire replied: And then, in terms as moving and as strong, As clear as ever fell from angel's tongue, Besought, reproved, exhorted, and condemn'd: Eulogius knew him, and, though known, contemn'd. The hermit then assumed a bolder tone; His rage was kindled, and his patience gone. Without respect to titles or to place, I call thee (adds he) miscreant to thy face. My prayers drew down heaven's bounty on thy head, My late request, all-gracious Power, forgive! And that yon miscreant may repent, and live, Give him that poverty which suits him best, And leave disgrace and grief to work the rest.” So pray'd the hermit, and with reason pray'd.Some plants the sunshine ask, and some the shade. At night the nure-trees spread, but check their bloom At morn, and lose their verdure and perfume. Reason the felon of herself was made, And nature's substance hid by nature's shade! Our fine man, now completed, quickly found Congenial friends in Asiatic ground. 1 The advent'rous pilot in a single year On less important days, he pass'd his time T' increase this load, some sycophant report The Demon having tempted Eulogius to engage in rebel- Now see Eulogius (who had all betray'd Forsaken, helpless, recognised by none, Proscribed Eulogius left the unprosp'rous town: For succour at a thousand doors he knock'd; Each heart was harden'd, and each door was lock'd. A pilgrim's staff he bore, of humble thorn; Fame through Thebaïs his arrival spread, That he had lost the world and found himself. Scipio sought virtue in his prime, He served the state with zeal and force, All, all from thee, When Diocletian sought repose, Cloy'd and fatigued with nauseous pow'r, For fools t' admire, and rogues devour: He, who had ruled the world, exchanged Heart's-ease, and meadow-sweet adorn Supremely gracious Deity, Thus Charles, with justice styled the great And from a throne to shades withdraws; In vain the Saracen complied, And fierce Northumbrians stain'd with gore. Supremely gracious Deity, Observant of th' almighty will, Prescient in faith, and pleased with toil, Abram Chaldea left, to till The moss-grown Haram's flinty soil; Supremely gracious Deity, ANONYMOUS. FROM THE ANNUAL REGISTER FOR 1774. VERSES, Copied from the window of an obscure lodging-house in the neighbourhood of London. STRANGER! Whoe'er thou art, whose restless mind, Like me within these walls is cribb'd, confined; What though to deck this roof no arts combine, Soothe every care, and make each dungeon smile: In her, what kings, what saints have wish'd, is given, Her heart is empire, and her love is heaven. |