WALTER HARTE.

About 1700-1773.

Walter Harte was the son of a clergyman of the same name who obtained, mirabile dictu, a Prebendary of Bristol, through the recommendation of Lord Chancellor Jefferies, in return for the manly freedom with which he remon. strated against his severities at Taunton.

The subject of this biographical sketch was authour of the History of Gustavus Adolphus, which work has been aptly said to be "full of Latinisms, Gallicisms, Germanicisms, and all isms, but Anglicisms." Hc was tutor to Lord Chesterfield's son, and is thus spoken of in Anderson's collection:

"The character of Harte seems to have been highly ami

able and respectable. He was beloved, esteemed, and revered by his friends. The testimonies of Pope, Fenton, and Lyttleton, are unquestionable authorities in favour of his intellectual and moral endowments. Even Chesterfield concurs in the fullest commendation of his amiable worth and consummate erudition, though his fastidious delicacy unfitted him to balance the excellence of his moral qualities against his deficiency in the graces of personal behaviour.

Meditations on Christ's Death and Passion.

An Emblem.

He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him. Isaiah liii. 5.

Σός είμι, ΧΡΙΣΤΕ· σῶσον, ὡς Αύλος θέλεις.

GREC. NAZ. CARM. JAM.

Respice dum transis; Quia sis mihi causa doloris.

HASTE not so fast, on worldly cares employ'd,
Thy bleeding Saviour asks a short delay :
What trifling bliss is still to be enjoy'd,
What change of folly wings thee on thy way?
Look back a moment, pause a while, and stay,
For thee thy God assumed the human frame
For thee the guiltless pains and anguish try'd;
Thy passions (sin excepted) his became :
Like thee he suffer'd, hunger'd, wept, and died.

Nor wealth nor plenty did he ever taste,
The moss his pillow, oft his couch the ground;
The poor man's bread completed his repast;
Home he had none, and quiet never found,
For fell Reproach pursued, and aim'd the wound:

The wise men mock'd him, and the learned

scorn'd;

Th' ambitious worldling other patrons tried;

The power that judg'd him every foe suborn'd; He wept unpity'd, and unhonour'd died.

For ever mournful, but for ever dear,
O love stupendous! glorious degradation!
No death of sickness, with a common tear-
No soft extinction claims our sorrows here;
But anguish, shame, and agonizing passion!
The riches of the world, and worldly praise,
No monument of gratitude can prove ;
Obedience only the great debt repays,
An imitative heart, and undivided love!

To see the image of the All-glorious Pow'r
Suspend his immortality, and dweil
In mortal bondage, tortured every hour:
A self-made prisoner in a dolesome cell,
Victim for sin, and conqueror of hell!
Lustration for offences not his own!

The unspotted for the impure resign'd his breath;
No other offering could thy crimes atone :-

Then blame thy Saviour's love, but not his death,

From this one prospect draw thy sole relief,
Here learn submission, passive duties learn;
Here drink the calm oblivion of thy grief:
Eschew each danger, every good discern,
And the true wages of thy virtue earn.
Reflect, O man, on such stupendous love,
Such sympathy divine, and tender care;
Beseech the Paraclete thine hand to move,
And offer up to heaven this silent prayer.

"Great God, thy judgments are with justice crown'd,

To human crimes and errours gracious still;
Yet, though thy mercies more and more abound,
Right reason spares not fresh-existing ill,
Nor can thy goodness counterwork thy will.
Ah, no, the gloom of sin so dreadful shows,
That horrour, guilt, and death the conscience fill:
Eternal laws our happiness oppose;

Thy nature and our lives are everlasting foes!

"Severe thy truth, yet glorious is thy scheme;
Complete the vengeance of thy just desire;
See from our eyes the gushing torrents stream,
Yet strike us, blast us with celestial fire;
Our doom, and thy decrees, alike conspire.

Yet dying we will love thee and adore :---
Where shall the flaming flashes of thy ire
Transpierce our bodies? Ev'ry nerve and pore
With Christ's immaculate blood is cover'd o'er and
o'er."

A SIMILE,

Upon a set of Tea Drinkers.

So Fairy elves their morning table spread
O'er a white Mushroon's hospitable head :
In acorn cups the merry goblins quaff

The pearly dews; they sing, they love, they laugh;
Melodious Musick trembles through the sky,
And airy sounds along the green wood die.