Memoirs of the Rev. Samuel Parr

Καί γάρ τό μεμνησθαι του άνδρός, καί αλλου άκούοντα, εμοιγε άεί πάντων εδιστον. Plato. Phaed.

LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1828. PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET. PREFACE.

It is well known to many of the friends of Dr. Parr, that, some time before his death, amongst other arrangements made by him, in the contemplation of that last solemn event, he had fixed his choice, for the office of his biographer, upon one, who had long held a high place in his esteem and confidence; who has honourably distinguished himself in the literary world; and who, on his part, signified his willing acceptance of the office, for which he had been selected. Thus an engagement was formed of a very interesting nature: of which Dr. Parr often spoke with much satisfaction; and which he has twice recognised, in most impressive terms, in his last will.

It soon appeared, however, that the biographer, appointed by Dr. Parr, did not proceed, as might have been expected, to the execution of the office assigned to him; and that, for reasons with which the public are at present unacquainted, but of which the writer of these pages is perfectly aware, that office was transferred to another person, a highly respectable member of the medical profession; who was chosen, indeed, by the illustrious deceased as one of his executors, though not as his biographer.

Under the circumstances now stated, the writer conceived that, without in the slightest degree violating any rule, even of the strictest propriety, he was at full liberty to listen to the solicitations of his friends, who were pleased to consider him, from his long intimacy with Dr. Parr, as well qualified, and, in other respects, not wholly incompetent to trace the principal events of his life, to mark the distinguishing features of his character, and to record his opinions on those important subjects to which the attention of his acute and powerful mind was incessantly directed.

Though it may easily be supposed that some sources of information, of which the writer would have thankfully availed himself, were not open to him; yet there are many others to which he did not fail to apply; and the information, thence obtained, added to his own, which was not inconsiderable, has enabled him to compose the “Memoirs” as they appear in the following pages. Among the persons, to whom the writer is indebted for their kind and valuable communications, he is bound to offer his grateful acknowledgments to Thomas Monro, M.D., formerly of London, now of Bushey, near Watford—to Henry Lee, M.D., of Hackney—to the two medical attendants on Dr. Parr, Amos Middleton, M.D., and Richard Jones, Esq., surgeon, both of Leamington—to Barron Field, Esq., late Judge of the Supreme Court, New South Wales—to the Rev. Dr. Wade, vicar of St. Nicholas, Warwick—to the Rev. John Kendall, vicar of Budbrooke, Warwickshire—to the Rev. James Hews Bransby, of Dudley—to John Parkes, Esq., during thirty years one of Dr. Parr’s most confidential friends; and to the sons of that gentleman, Samuel Parkes, Esq., of Liverpool, and Joseph Parkes, Esq., solicitor, of Birmingham—to Mrs. Edwards, during many years an intimate associate in the family of Dr. Parr—and to the eminently-distinguished William Roscoe, Esq., of Liverpool.

It is a subject of much regret to the writer, that, in consequence of numerous and indispensable engagements, he is able, at present, to send from the press, the first volume only of his intended work. He trusts, however, that the second will soon follow it.

And now, respectfully submitting these “Memoirs” to the candid judgment of the public, the writer ventures to express his hope that they may prove gratifying to the friends and admirers of Dr. Parr, and not altogether uninteresting or uninstructive to others.

Leam, near Warwick, December 14, 1827.

CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAPTER I. A.D. 1747—1752. Family of Dr. Parr on his father’s side—on his mother’s side—Notice of his father—of his mother—of his stepmother—His early education Page 1 CHAPTER II. A.D. 1752—1761. Dr. Parr’s admission into Harrow School—Notice of his two preceptors, Dr. Thackeray and Dr. Sumner—His progress in learning—His two rival associates, Sir William Jones and Dr. Bennet—Their voluntary exertions for their own improvement 12 CHAPTER III. A.D. 1761-1765. Dr. Parr’s destination for the medical profession—His dislike of it—His reluctant attention to his duties—Progress of his private studies—Accomplishment of his wish to exchange the medical for the clerical profession—His opinion of the former—His father’s proposal of sending him to Cambridge 26 CHAPTER IV. A.D. 1765—1766. Dr. Parr’s admission into Emanuel College, Cambridge—Notice of Dr. Richardson, the master—of Mr. Hubbard and of Dr. Farmer, the tutors—Admission of Dr. Bennet into the same college—Course of Dr. Parr’s studies—Death of his father—His pecuniary difficulties—His abrupt departure from Cambridge, in consequence—His account of the university—Remarks upon it Page 33 CHAPTER V. A.D. 1767—1771. Dr. Parr, head assistant of Harrow School—Some of its distinguished scholars—Mr. Sheridan—Dr. Parr’s official labours—His private studies—His ordination—His appointment to the curacy of Willesden—Death of Dr. Sumner—Dr. Parr’s inscription for his monument—Intended Memoirs of his Life 49 CHAPTER VI. A.D. 1771. Degree of A. M. conferred on Dr. Parr—His nomination as a candidate for the mastership of Harrow School—His rejection—Reasons for it assigned—Commotion in the school in consequence—Project of a new establishment—Dr. Parr’s marriage—Opening of Stanmore School—Secession of forty boys from Harrow—and of the second assistant 60 CHAPTER VII. A.D. 1771—1776. Plan of studies in Stanmore School—The Greek language—Importance of it—The Greek authors read—Manner of explaining them—Greek versification—Writing Greek—Greek plays acted—The Latin language—Authors read—Some defects in the public schools noticed—Exercises of the memory—Study of English Composition 71 CHAPTER VIII. A.D. 1771—1776. Discipline of Stanmore School—Literary associations of the upper classes—Dr. Parr’s love of youth—His affection for his own pupils—His kindness of manner towards them—His private instructions and admonitions—His correspondence with his pupils—His encouragement of all the active and healthful sports of youth—Their importance in the opinion of the ancients Page 88 CHAPTER IX. A.D. 1776—1777. Dissolution of Stanmore School—Causes of it—Dr. Parr’s appointment to the mastership of Colchester School—His removal to that town—His failure of success—His acquaintance with Mr. Twining—and Dr. Forster—His opinion of the American war—of Lord North—of the clerical petition—His appointment to the cures of the Hythe and Trinity Churches—His mode of preaching 106 CHAPTER X. A.D. 1779—1786. Dr. Parr’s appointment to the mastership of Norwich School—His removal to that city—His discouragements—His engagements as curate of St. George’s and St. Saviour’s—His four first published sermons—Degree of LL.D. conferred upon him at Cambridge—His two theses on that occasion—His first preferment—his second 121 CHAPTER XI. A.D. 1779—1786. Dr. Parr at Norwich—His religious candour—His high opinion of Dr. Taylor, minister of the Octagon Chapel—Inscription to the memory of that eminent divine, written by Dr. Parr—His letter on that occasion—His friendly intercourse with Dr. Taylor’s successors, Mr. Bourn and Mr. Morgan—Application to Parliament for the relief of the dissenting clergy, in the matter of subscription—Relaxation of the penal-laws against the Catholics—Riots in consequence—Trial of Lord George Gordon—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of his advocate, Mr. Erskine Page 132 CHAPTER XII. A.D. 1779—1786. Dr. Parr at Norwich—Account concluded—His deep interest in the political events of the times—Termination of Lord North’s administration—The Rockingham- succeeded by the Shelburne-administration—Coalition ministry—Commencement of the Pitt-administration—Death of Dr. Johnson—Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with him—Comparison between them—Interview of Dr. Priestley with Dr. Johnson—Inscription for Dr. Johnson’s monument—Intended Memoirs of his Life 147 CHAPTER XIII. A. D. 1780—1782. Dr. Parr’s first publications—Sermon delivered in Norwich Cathedral, on Christmas-day—First Discourse on Education, preached in behalf of the Norwich Charity-schools—Second Discourse—A Fast Sermon 166 CHAPTER XIV. A.D. 1786—1789. Dr. Parr’s settlement at Hatton—His parsonage-house—His library—Catalogue of his books—His plan of private tuition—His attention to his pastoral duties—His appointment to a prebend in St. Paul’s—Exchange of Hatton curacy for Waddenhoe rectory 182 CHAPTER XV. A. D. 1786—1790. Dr. Parr’s intimate friends in Hatton and the neighbourhood—Bree family—Mrs. Edwards—Dormer family—Mr. Gaches—Mr. Willes—Mr. Williams—Mr. Dewes—Mr. and Mrs. Greatheed—Mr. Morley—Mr. Tomes—Mr. W. and Mr. J. Parkes—Mr. Fellowes—Dr. Taylor—Dr. Lambe—Dr. Winthrop 198 CHAPTER XVI. A.D. 1786—1790. Dr. Parr’s Preface to “The Three Treatises of Bellendedus”—His Preface to “Tracts of Warburton and a Warburtonian,” &c.—He is committed by the former publication to the Whig party, and patronised by them—His near prospect of a bishopric—His opinions on parliamentary reform—on the fortification-plan—on the late Indian government—and on the Test Laws Page 221 CHAPTER XVII. A.D. 1787. Publication of “Bellendenus de Statu, Libri Tres”—Account of the author, and of his work—Of another work by the same author—Charge of plagiarism against Dr. Middleton—The three Dedications, to North, Burke, and Fox—The Preface—Public characters introduced into it—Beloe’s Translation of it 238 CHAPTER XVIII. A.D. 1789. “Dr. Parr’s Republication of Tracts by Warburton and a Warburtonian, &c. with a Dedication and two Prefaces”—Notice of Bishop Warburton—of Bishop Hurd—Offence committed by Dr. Jortin—Dr. Hurd’s “Delicacy of Friendship”—Offence committed by Dr. Leland—Dr. Hurd’s Letter to him—Warburton’s two Tracts—Question considered, Whether the republication of these Tracts is justifiable?—Dr. Parr’s vindication of himself—His character of Warburton—of Hurd 259 CHAPTER XIX. A. D. 1790—1792. Dr. Parr’s friendship with the Writer—Ordination-service in Warwick Chapel—attended by Dr. Parr—The public dinner honoured by his presence—His friendly intercourse with Dr. Priestley—His sympathy with the sufferings—his testimonies to the merits—his inscription to the memory, of Dr. Priestley —His opinion of Bishop Horsley—Mr. Belsham—Bishop Burgess Page 287 CHAPTER XX. A.D. 1791—1792. Birmingham riots—Hatton-parsonage threatened—Dr. Parr’s opinions—on the causes of the riots—on Burke’s “Reflections”—on Paine’s “Rights of Man”—on Mackintosh’s “Vindiciæ Gallicæ”—on the French Revolution—on the wars with France—on the defection of the Whigs—Character of Mr. Burke—of Mr. Wyndham 304 CHAPTER XXI. A.D. 1791—1795. Publication of “A Sequel to the Printed Paper lately circulated in Warwickshire,” &c.—Extracts from it—Dr. Parr’s account of his own principles and conduct—Mr. Cumberland’s “Retort Courteous to Dr. Parr”—Publication of “A Letter from Irenopolis to the Inhabitants of Eleutheropolis”—Extracts from it—Publication of “Remarks on the Statement of Dr. Combe,” &c.—Dr. Parr’s critical labours as a reviewer—Utility of periodical criticism 320 CHAPTER XXII. A.D. 1794—1795. Case of Joseph Gerrald, the pupil and friend of Dr. Parr—His trial for sedition at Edinburgh—Sentence of fourteen years’ transportation passed upon him—His removal to London—His long confinement in prison—His expressions of high regard for Dr. Parr in a letter from on board the Hulks—Dr. Parr’s letter to him—His voyage to Botany Bay—His arrival—His death 338 CHAPTER XXIII. A.D. 1794. Death of Sir Wm. Jones—His character—His literary attainments—His friendship with Dr. Parr—Lord Teignmouth’s Memoirs of his Life—Disingenuousness of that biographer in the opinion of Dr. Paley, and of Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Gibbon—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of him and of his works—His epitaph written by Dr. Parr—His observations on the state of the Universities—Dr. Parr’s remarks in reply Page 350 CHAPTER XXIV. A.D. 1794—1800. Death of Mr. John Smitheman—of Mr. Homer—of Bishop Horne—of Dr. Balguy—Case of Mr. Oliver, who was tried and condemned for murder at Stafford—His intended defence—Mr. Oliver visited in prison, and attended to the place of execution, by Dr. Parr—Ireland’s literary imposture—Spital Sermon preached by Dr. Parr—Letter to the Secretary of the Humane Society 368 CHAPTER XXV. A.D. 1794—1800. Dr. Parr’s opinions—on the execution of Louis XVI.—on the political changes in France which followed—on the measures of the Pitt-administration—on the trials of Hardy, Tooke, and others—on the new laws hostile to freedom—County meeting at Warwick for the dismissal of ministers—Affairs of Ireland—Trial of O’Coighley—Dr. Parr’s thanksgiving-sermon for the naval victories 385 CHAPTER XXVI. A.D. 1800—1803. Dr. Parr’s Spital Sermon—Its subject—In the first part a protest against Godwin’s “Political Justice”—in the second, an answer to Turgot’s Strictures on Charitable Institutions—The notes—Quotations from ancient and modern authors—Remarks on the obligation of gratitude, &c.—Atheism and superstition compared—Defence of the two Universities—Doctrine of future rewards and punishments—Dr. Parr’s Sermon on Patriotism—Reply to the argument of Lord Shaftesbury—and of Soame Jenyns—True and false patriotism—Conclusion 401 CHAPTER XXVII. A.D. 1801—1803. Offer to Dr. Parr of the living of Winterbourne—His letter to Lord Chedworth on that occasion—His recommendation of the Rev. James Eyre to his Lordship’s notice—His evidence on the question of the validity of his Lordship’s will—His request of some memorial of his Lordship’s friendship—Offer of the living of Graffham from Sir Francis Burdett—Letters on that occasion—Offer from Mr. Coke of the living of Buckingham—Large increase of income from Dr. Parr’s prebendal estates Page 421 CHAPTER XXVIII. A.D. 1800—1807. Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with Mr. Roscoe—His opinion of “The Life of Lorenzo”—and of “The Nurse,” a poem, in letters to the author—Dr. Parr’s high regard for Mr. Wakefield—His opinion of him as a scholar and a writer—Letter to one of his friends on occasion of his decease—Death of Dr. Parr’s younger daughter—His sketch of her character—Death of Mr. Wm. Parkes—Dr. Parr’s tribute to his memory—Death of Professor Porson—Biographical notice of him 437

ERRATA. P. 194. l.10. for 1779, read 1799. P. 197. l. 18. for £16,000, read £1600 per ann.

MEMOIRS OF DR. SAMUEL PARR.

CHAPTER I. A.D. 1747—1752. Family of Dr. Parr on his father’s side—on his mother’s side—Notice of his father—of his mother—of his stepmother—His early education.

Dr. Samuel Parr was born in the village of Harrow-on-the-Hill, Jan. 26, 1747. His father, Samuel Parr, was the third and the youngest son of the Rev. Samuel Parr, vicar of Hinckley and Stoke, in Leicestershire, and of Dorothy, daughter of the Rev. Francis Brokesby, D.D. rector of Rowley in Yorkshire, and author of the well-known “Life” of the celebrated Henry Dodwell.1 His mother was Ann, daughter of Leonard Mignard,

1 Dr. Brokesby was the author of a “Life of Christ,” and of a “History of the government of the Primitive Church.” He communicated to Mr. Hearne, in a letter printed in the 6th vol. of Leland’s Itinerary, some curious observations on British antiquities. “The very learned father of my paternal grandmother, Francis Brokesby, assisted Mr. Ray largely in the collection of English words not generally used. S. P.”—Bibliotheca Parriana, p. 395.

descended from a family of French refugees, and of Elizabeth Bates, of Stamford in Lincolnshire.

The family of Parr1 trace back their origin to a remote antiquity. One of their ancestors was Sir Wm. Parre, who lived in the reign of Edward IV.; and who married Elizabeth, the sister and the coheiress of Henry Lord Fitzhugh. His son, Sir Thomas Parre, married Maud, co-heiress of Sir Thomas Greene, of Greene’s Norton, Northamptonshire, and was the father of Queen Catherine Parre, sixth wife of Henry VIII.; also of Ann Parre, married to William Earl of Pembroke; and of Lord William Parre, afterwards created, successively, Earl of Essex, and Marquis of Northampton. This latter nobleman is described by Camden,2 as “an accomplished courtier;” and, by Fuller,3 as “a brave and skilful warrior.” He died, while on a visit at the Priory at Warwick, and was buried within the chancel of St. Mary’s Church, in that town. There was no monumental inscription, even in the time of Dugdale; and the coat of arms, sword, shield, helmet and crest, which that great antiquarian mentions, as suspended over his grave, have long since disappeared.4

Sir William Parre, the grandfather of this illustrious progeny, had two brothers; of whom, one was Humphrey, Lord Dacre of Guillesland, the other was John Parre; and it is from the latter of these

1 See the Pedigree, App. No. I.

2 Camd. Brit. Leicest. ad fin.

3 Fuller’s Worthies, vol. ii. p. 184. New Ed.

4 Dugdale’s Warwicksh. p. 320. Coventry Ed.

that Dr. Parr, in a direct line, is descended. The family, in this branch of it, long lived, with great respectability, in the county of Leicester, and produced several divines of learning and worth in the English church. They were always remarkably distinguished for a firm attachment to the cause of the unfortunate Stuarts, and for a steady adherence to those principles of divine right, both of monarchy and episcopacy, which, though long since exploded, were once maintained by many of the best and most honourable men in the nation.

It is known that Dr. Brokesby, “my learned great-grandfather,”1 as Dr. Parr speaks of him, like his friend, Mr. Dodwell, whose character he admired, and whose virtues he has celebrated,2 was a most conscientious and inflexible non-juror: and it must be told to his high praise, that, rather than deviate in the smallest degree from his own sincere convictions, he resigned his living of Rowley, and intrepidly braved all the serious difficulties, to which those of his party were, at that time, exposed. Of his great-uncle, also, the Rev. Robert Parr, rector of Willey, in Warwickshire, who was an excellent scholar, it is pithily recorded “that he loved, not money, but the Greek fathers, the Pretender, and the church.”3 Integrity, faithful to its cause, whatever that cause may be, and not to be moved by tempting gain or threatening

1 Bibliotheca Parriana, p. 27.

2 See Brokesby’s Life of Dodwell, passim.

3 He was buried at Hinckley, Aug. 8, 1750. See App. No. I.

power, from its even course, who can contemplate without admiration and delight?1

The religious and political principles transmitted to them from their ancestors, were reverently received, and fervently cherished, by Mr. Samuel Parr, the father, and the Rev. Robert Parr, the uncle, of Dr. Parr. The former exhibited a splendid proof of generous devotion to the cause which he had espoused, by advancing the large sum of 800l., being nearly the whole of his fortune, in aid of the young Pretender, at that time engaged in a last desperate effort to recover his lost honours: whilst the latter, when a scholar at Eton, in the same high spirit, refused to renounce, or even to conceal his principles, and was therefore obliged to relinquish the fair prospect, thrown open before him, of obtaining one of its fellowships. At a subsequent period, however, he went to Cambridge, and entered of King’s College, of which he was afterwards elected a Fellow, and ultimately appointed a Tutor. His services were highly estimated by his college;2 and, as some reward, he was presented to the living of Horsted, united with that of Cottishall, in Norfolk. There, he passed the remainder of his days, retired and contented; respectable for his learning,3 venerable for his

1 Magni cujusdam animi, atque ejus viri est, quem de suscepta causa, propositaque sententia, nulla contumelia, nulla vis, nullum periculum posset repellere. Cic.

2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

3 Fabricii Bibliotheca Græca. This book belonged to Dr. Parr’s learned uncle, rector of Horstead, Norfolk.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 701.

piety, and amiable for his virtue. Dr. Parr speaks of him with affectionate respect, in one of his works, as “his revered uncle.”1 He died, Sept. 8, 1759, and his memory was long cherished in the minds of his parishioners, with unfeigned esteem and gratitude. He was buried in Horsted church, where his merits are recorded in a monumental inscription,2 written in Latin, with much tenderness of feeling, and much energy of expression, by his ingenious and faithful curate, the Rev. Peter Elkington.

The principles of civil and ecclesiastical polity which, since the era of the Reformation, have been usually denominated the Whig principles, were those adopted, with the strongest convictions of his understanding, and with all the natural ardour of his temper, by Dr. Parr; and contrasted with them, it is curious to remark, in so many of his family, an attachment no less firm and devoted to the opposite principles of highest toryism in church and state. It is believed, however, that these principles, fondly cherished in his father’s mind, received a severe shock from the loss of his fortune, fruitlessly sacrificed in the last rash and ruinous attempt of the Pretender and his misguided adherents. From that time, it is said, Mr. Parr began to consider with favourable attention the more reasonable principles which he had hitherto opposed, and was at length induced to abandon as hopeless, at least, if not unjust, a cause which no longer appeared to be the cause of the nation. But whether this account be either in whole or in part

1 Spital Serm. p. 109. 2 See App. No. III.

correct, certain it is, that under his father’s direction the son was led, at an early age, to peruse the volumes of Rapin, the excellent historian of England. In studying the pages of that judicious and impartial writer, as Dr. Parr often declared, he found all his hereditary prejudices powerfully counteracted; and it was from them that he imbibed his first notions of those great principles of civil and religious liberty, which he so ardently embraced, and so strenuously maintained, through his future life.1

The family of Mignard, Dr. Parr’s maternal grandfather, as already mentioned, were French Protestants, driven from their native country by the most unwise, as well as most unjust revocation of the edict of Nantes, in 1685. But it is affirmed by M. de Watelet, author of the “Dictionnaire des Arts et de Peinture,” that the family was of English extraction, and that the original name was More. He relates that there were seven brothers, serving in the army of Henry IV. of France, all of handsome figure, and martial appearance; and that, on being all presented at the same time to that monarch, by the name of More, the king facetiously exclaimed, “Ce ne sont pas là des Mores, mais des Mignards.” Hence they were led to assume the latter, instead of their former name.

One of the seven brothers had two sons, who

1 “Rapin’s Hist. of England. This book formerly belonged to my father. When a child, I read through these volumes several times. It was the first book of English history I ever read. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 416.

attained considerable eminence as portrait-painters. They were born at Troyes, the one in 1608, the other in 1610. But from the places where they resided, they were commonly known by the names of “Mignard of Avignon,” and “Mignard the Roman.” The latter, who was superior in talent to his brother, was patronised by all the nobles of the French court, and especially by Louis XIV. himself, who sat to him for his portrait, it is said, no less than ten times. On the death of Charles le Brun he was appointed first painter to the king. Some account of him is given by Lord Orford, in his “Anecdotes of Painting.”

Whether any other branch of the family, besides that of Dr. Parr’s grandfather, took refuge in this country at the same time with them, is not known. It seems probable that Mr. Leonard Mignard was born in England; and it is certain that he married an English lady. He was long established as a surgeon and apothecary, at Harrow; and acquired an extensive practice in that village, and the surrounding country. Mr. Parr, who had been his apprentice, and afterwards married his daughter, on his death became his successor.

On succeeding to the practice of his father-in-law, Mr. Parr soon rose into high repute, both for his professional knowledge and skill, and for the active and faithful discharge of his professional duties. He is described by his son, in a letter to a friend,1 “as a man of very robust and vigorous

1 Dr. Percival of Manchester. See his Life, prefixed to the edition of his works, 4 vols. 8vo.

intellect;” and his natural powers were well cultivated by early education, and by subsequent reading and reflection.1 He possessed many good qualities of heart, as well as of mind; and by strict integrity of principle, by noble independence of spirit, and generous warmth of temper, though not without some degree of sternness of manner, he obtained and he deserved the respectful regards of all, to whom he was known.2

Early in November, 1762, Mr. Parr suffered a severe affliction in the loss of his wife, who was greatly and justly beloved by him, and sincerely and highly esteemed throughout the social circle in which she moved. The son always spoke of his father with profound respect, and of his mother with the fondest affection. He has sometimes been heard to declare, that he recollected being suckled at his mother’s breast. He spoke with perfect sincerity, though with an evident distrust of being believed. There was only one child in the family besides himself, a sister, Dorothy, who was born June 6, 1749. She was married, May 30, 1769, to Mr. William Bowyear, a lace manufacturer of Buckingham, who died January 3, 1775. The issue of this marriage was one daughter, Frances-Dorothy; who, with her mother, is still living. They are affectionately mentioned in

1 “Boerhaave’s Aphorisms. The gift of Dr. Thomas Carter, formerly under-master, and afterwards vice-provost of Eton, to his intelligent nephew, Samuel Parr, my father. S. P.” “Arbuthnot’s Essays on the nature of Aliments. The gift of Dr. T. Carter to my father, Aug. 9, 1739. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 462.

2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

Dr. Parr’s will, in which he bequeathes to them a handsome legacy.

Before the expiration of a year, after the death of his first wife, Mr. Parr was induced to marry a second time, to the great offence of his son Samuel, then in his sixteenth year; who, on that occasion, sturdily refused to exchange the garb of mourning, for a dress more suitable to the season of bridal festivity and gaiety. The son always recollected, with evident pleasure, this early instance of respect to the memory of a beloved mother, though in opposition to the views and wishes of a father whom he venerated. “My gray coat with black buttons,” he would often say, “I was ordered to put off, for a coloured one with lapels: but,” he would exultingly add—“I refused!” It does not appear that the stepmother, by her subsequent conduct, endeavoured to remove from her son’s mind the early prejudices which he had naturally conceived against her; nor that she ever obtained any high place in his favourable regards.

Mr. Parr’s second wife was Margaret, daughter of Dr. Coxe, formerly head-master of Harrow School. This connexion, however, was of short duration; for, on January 23, 1766, when he had nearly completed his fifty-fifth year, Mr. Parr died. His widow long survived him; and resided many years at Paddington, where she ended her days, January 4, 1805, at the advanced age of eighty.

Dr. Parr received his earliest instructions, next to those which all owe to maternal cares, from his father, who was a man of sound judgment and correct taste, and had acquired a good knowledge of the Latin, as well as the English language. It may be truly said, that Dr. Parr’s learned education began in his infancy; since he was successfully taught the rudiments of Latin grammar when he was four years old. It was, perhaps, the recollection of his own case which impressed the opinion so deeply on his mind, of the necessity of commencing, at a very early age, the study of the ancient languages, in order to insure proficiency in classical literature; and which led him to apply to those, who first engage in these pursuits late in life, somewhat contemptuously, the term όψιμαθεις of Cicero, or that of seri studiorum of Persius. He could not deny, however, that to this rule many very considerable, and some splendid exceptions must be admitted; such as Scaliger, among the learned of the last, and Gibbon the historian, and his own friend, Richard Payne Knight, of the present age.1

For himself, he was, indeed, “puer animi ad praecepta rapacis;” and is entitled to be placed among those who “ante annos, mentemque gerunt, animumque virilem.” Such, it is said, were the displays of intellectual prowess exhibited by him, in almost infantile age, on every subject to which his attention could be directed, as to call forth the loud and the lavish praises of all who witnessed them. Placed upon a chair, or, still

1 “Homeri Carmina, &c. cum Notis ac Prolegominis studio R. Payne Knight. This Homer was given me by my very acute and very learned friend, the editor. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 176.

more conspicuously, mounted upon a table, surrounded by a listening audience of friends, he was accustomed to repeat passages from authors, or, from the suggestions of his own mind, to reply to questions proposed, with a propriety and a spirit—which, in a child, none could refuse to admire, and few could forbear to applaud, and not seldom, perhaps, inconsiderately and extravagantly. To this circumstance some, who knew him well, have not hesitated to trace, as its first spring, that excess of vanity and self-complacency, which, though a real foible even in a great character, has too often been magnified unfairly, and exposed ungenerously to public ridicule or reproach.

CHAPTER II. A.D. 1752—1761. Dr. Parr’s admission into Harrow School—Notice of his two preceptors, Dr. Thackeray and Dr. Sumner—His progress in learning—His two rival associates, Sir William Jones and Dr. Bennet—Their voluntary exertions for their own improvement.

Intended by his father for the profession of which he was himself a member, young Parr, at the early age of five years, was sent to the school, which has so long given to his native village its great celebrity. This important institution owes its origin to the liberality of Mr. John Lion, who lived in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and possessed and cultivated a considerable estate in the neighbourhood. Of such a public benefactor, it was surely to be regretted, that, for the space of more than two hundred years, no sepulchral memorial to record his name, or to commemorate his good deeds, existed. But, at length, this cause of just regret was removed; and in 1805, a mural monument was erected, in the middle aisle of Harrow Church, near the spot where his remains lie interred. The inscription, in Latin, written with all his usual purity and elegance, was furnished by Dr. Parr.1

It was at Easter, 1752, that he, whose name has

1 See App. No. II.

since conferred upon it one of its proudest distinctions, was admitted a free scholar of Harrow School, at that time under the superintendence of Dr. Thackeray; a man well entitled, by his own merits, to demand a place in the records of honourable fame. But, as the preceptor to whom was committed the first forming of Dr. Parr’s mind, and by whom was laid the foundation of that high reputation which he afterwards attained, the master of Harrow may justly claim some grateful and respectful notice in the pages dedicated to the memory of his eminently distinguished pupil.

The Rev. Thomas Thackeray, D.D. was born at Hamsthwaite, in Yorkshire. He received the first part of his education at Eton; whence he went to Cambridge, and entered of King’s College. At a subsequent period, he offered himself as a candidate for the provostship of that college. But though his claims were powerful, yet ministerial influence interposed between him and the object of his ambition, and prevailed.1 Thus disappointed, he was induced to accept the office of assistant-master of Eton College. In 1746, he was chosen to succeed Dr. Coxe in the headmastership of Harrow School; and held this important post fourteen years. By his learning as a scholar, and by his abilities as a teacher, he raised the reputation of the school, and gradually ac-

1 “He was candidate for the headship of King’s, and would have beat all men but George; and George too, if Sir R. Walpole had not made George’s promotion a point.”—Letter from Dr. E. Pyle to his father, given in Richards’ History of Lynn.

quired for it a degree of celebrity which it had not before possessed.

With the virtues adorning private life he united that firm attachment to the rights and liberties of his country, which gives value and dignity to public character. As connected with the history of Dr. Parr’s opinions, it must be noticed that his earliest preceptor was an ardent and inflexible Whig; who, rather than deviate from the straight line of political integrity, turned indignantly away from some flattering prospects, which were, more than once, opened before him. As, at that time, his necessities were great; strong, in proportion, must have been the temptation which he thus nobly resisted; for he had a family of fourteen children dependent for support on his personal exertions, aided by the income of one small living in Essex.

Afterwards, better fortune attended him. His learning and his worth, and perhaps also the proof which he had given of political firmness and consistency, drew towards him the favourable notice of the truly excellent Bishop Hoadly; to whom, however, he was personally unknown. But the story cannot be better told than it is in the lively letter of Dr. Pyle before referred to.1 “The Bishop of Winchester,” writes the Doctor to his father, “never saw this man in his life; but had heard so much good of him, that he resolved to serve him if ever he could; yet said nothing to anybody. On Thursday last, he sent for this Dr. Thackeray;

1 See page 13.

and when he came into the room, my lord gave him a parchment, and told him, that he had long heard of his good character, and had long been afraid he should never be able to give him any serviceable proof of his good opinion of him; but that what he had now put into his hands was the archdeaconry of Surry, which he hoped would prove acceptable to him. Dr. Thackeray was so surprised and overcome, that he was very near fainting, as the bishop was giving him institution.”

Such, as a man and a scholar, was the instructor to whom Dr. Parr, almost in his infancy, was committed; and under whose care, for eight years, he continued. Of Dr. Thackeray he was ever accustomed to speak with the greatest reverence and gratitude; and often expressed the deepest sense of obligation for the valuable instructions and the kind treatment, to which he owed, he said, so much of the improvement, and so much of the happiness of his early life. In a work published some years ago, the following mention of his earliest preceptor occurs: “I have reason to love and revere him as a father, as well as a master.”1

One strange peculiarity, indeed, marked his character as a tutor. It was a rule with him never to bestow the least praise, even on the best performances of his pupils; because he conceived that applause tended only to produce indolence and vanity. This unhappy error,2 which excluded

1 “Remarks on Combe’s Statement,” p. 22.

2 Did Sir William Jones regretfully glance at his first preceptor, when he thus marks, with commendation, the opposite conduct of his second? “Amicâ laudatione, quæ in optimo

from his system one of the most powerful motives to exertion in the young and the generous mind,1 was counterbalanced by many of the best qualities, which can belong to an instructor of youth. He was vigilant, patient, laborious; and though a strict disciplinarian, possessed much kindness of temper, and much suavity of manner. In the summer of 1760, declining health obliged him to resign his office; and in the autumn following he died.2

To him succeeded Dr. Robert Sumner; a man, who was eminently conspicuous for great learning, in happy union with great talents; and who has always been represented as estimable in an uncommon degree for the pleasing attractions, blended with the solid and shining worth of his character. It was his high praise, that he was not only honoured reverently as a tutor, but loved fervently as a friend, by all those whose happy fortune placed them under his charge. By one of that favoured number, Dr. Parr himself, his literary claims are thus slightly touched: “He was a man, whose erudition, taste, and sagacity, have long induced me to rank him among the great ornaments

quoque animo vim habet summam ad majora incenderet.”—Præf. Pers. Asiat. Com.

1 “Mihi ille detur puer, quern laus excitat, quem gloria juvat,” &c. Quint.

2 Dr. Thackeray, like his successor Dr. Sumner, wrote little, as appears from the following paragraph: “My friend, I have had the good fortune to meet with the only writing which Thackeray ever sent to the press; and I am in possession of every syllable that Sumner ever printed.”—Letter from Dr. Parr to Mr. Nichols, Gent. Mag. June, 1825.

of our literature.”1 By another pupil, of still more illustrious name, Sir W. Jones, his whole character, moral, as well as literary, is beautifully drawn, in the Preface to his “Poesios Asiatic Comm.;” of which the following translation, though feeble and inadequate, may prove acceptable to the English reader.

“If there ever was a man worthy to be honourably remembered, it was he. In him, high powers of mind were united with pure integrity of heart. His dispositions were most excellent, and his manners most amiable. His learning was exact and profound. In the art of communicating and enforcing instruction, he was not surpassed by any master, whom I have ever known. Such were the sweetness and cheerfulness of his temper, that it would be difficult to say, whether he was more the love and the delight of his friends, or of his pupils. He was deeply versed in Grecian and Roman literature; and though, like Socrates, he wrote little himself, yet none ever displayed more acuteness, or more judgment, either in discovering and correcting the faults, or in discerning and applauding the excellencies of other writers.2 If instead of being placed at the head of a school, the course of events, or the favour of fortune, had conducted him to the bar or the senate; few would have ventured to dispute with him the praise of eloquence, even in England—the only country in the world where, at this time, the art is cultivated. For he pos-

1 Letter to Mr. Nichols, Gent. Mag.

2 Munus et officium, nil scribens ipse, docebo. Hor.

sessed all the great qualities of an orator, if not in their full perfection, yet certainly in a very high degree. His voice was powerful and melodious; his style was polished; his wit sportive; his memory wonderfully retentive. His eye, his look, his action, were not those of an ordinary speaker, but those rather of another Demosthenes. In a word, we may say of him, as Cicero said of Roscius, that whilst he seemed to be the only master fitted for the instruction of youth, he appeared to be at the same time the only orator fitted for discharging the most important offices of the state. For such a one, ought I not, then, to claim a high and distinguished place amongst the great and good of mankind?”

To the charge of these two masters young Parr was happily for himself confided; and under their fostering cares the powers of his mind soon began to open and expand; giving, as they expanded, high promise of future excellence. He was early marked by the whole school as an extraordinary boy; and in the first efforts of his understanding might have been perceived, as in the infant Hercules, all the greatness of that strength to which it afterwards grew. He himself often observed, that his mental faculties were unfolded very prematurely:1 adding, too, that with him prematurity did not, as years advanced, sink into imbecility;

1 He once said to a friend, “When a boy, I used to rise at five o’clock, and go into the garden, with a Greek grammar for my companion; and I made myself master of it in that way.” It is said of him, also, by an old schoolfellow, that he used to write exercises for many of the other boys of the school.

and that early proficiency did not seduce him, either into inglorious satisfaction with past, or careless indifference about future improvement. Through the whole of his course, at Harrow, he acquired for himself honourable distinction amongst his schoolfellows, and passed through the different classes, attended, not with the approbation only, but with the admiration of his tutors. Even Dr. Thackeray could not help expressing, by his complacent looks, those praises, which an uncompromising adherence to system forbade him to utter with his lips. His pupil, however, encouraged, if not by receiving the applauses of his master, at least by the consciousness of deserving them, pushed on, with ardour and diligence, in his career of classical learning—the great study of the school; and such was the rapidity of his progress, that, in Jan. 1761, “before he had quite completed his fourteenth year, he arrived at the first place of the first form.”1

Yet it must now be distinctly mentioned that, in pursuing the prize of literary honour, he had to contend with some powerful rivals; among whom, besides Mr. Halhed2 and Mr. Lytton,3 were his two

1 His own words. Spital Sermon, p. 125.

2 “Halhed’s Grammar of the Bengal Language. The gift of the author. Cui pudor, et justitiæ soror, incorrupta fides, nudaque veritas, quando ullum invenient parem? S. P.”—“Cruden’s Concordance. This book I have given to my dear friend Dr. Parr, the 4th day of the week, the 10th day of the month January, 1783. N. B. Halhed.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 38.243.

3 “Politiani Omnia Opera. This beautiful edition of Politian was given to me by the learned Richard Warburton Lytton. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 317.

constant and favourite associates, the late learned and excellent Dr. Wm. Bennet, Bishop of Cloyne, and the celebrated person, just mentioned, Sir William Jones,1 one of the most accomplished scholars, and one of the wisest and best men of his age; of whom Dr. Parr said, applying to him his own words—“It is happy for us all that this man was born!”2 The fond affection, which bound together these three young scholars, and which ripened into sincere and lasting friendship, appears the more remarkable, when it is considered with what eager emulation they contended for the praise of superiority, in every difficult attainment to which their minds were directed. “We lived together, we conversed together,” said Dr. Parr to a friend, “with the most perfect cordiality: there was no jealousy among us—that is a feeling only for little minds.” The classical reader may easily recollect and apply the words of the Roman biographer: “Id, quod erat difficillimum, efficiebatur, ut inter quos tantæ laudis esset æmulatio, nulla intercederet obtrectatio, essetque talium copula.”3

It is to be wished that some one, better informed upon the subject than the present writer, would tell, for the direction and encouragement of young scholars, more than is yet generally known of those extraordinary plans, which were adopted by the noble trio of Harrow School, for their own improvement, in addition to all that was required

1 Dr. Samuel Johnson pronounced him to be “the most accomplished of the sons of men.”

2 Spital Sermon, p. 136.

3 Corn. Nepos in Vitâ Attici.

in the regular and ordinary course of their studies. It is related by Lord Teignmouth, in his “Life of Sir Wm. Jones,” that they were accustomed to divide the neighbouring fields, so as to bear, to their imaginations, some rude resemblance to the map of Greece; and that each of them assumed, according to his fancy, some ancient name, and appropriated to himself some peculiar district, the honour and the integrity of which he was to maintain against all assailants. Thus, at one time, it was agreed that Jones should be called Euryalus, king of Arcadia; Bennet, Nisus, king of Argos; and Parr, Leander, prince of Abydos and Sestos.1 Under these, and other similar names, they held councils; they wrote memorials; they uttered harangues; they declared war; they negociated peace; whilst some of their schoolfellows consented to be styled barbarians, whose hostile attempts they were to prevent or resist. Puerile as such amusement may seem, it must have contributed much to fix in their memories the great events, and great characters, of ancient times; to fill their minds with just ideas of international law and civil government; and to form them to the habit of properly arranging their thoughts, and expressing them with precision, fluency, and force.

Nor was this all. The three youthful associates studied, together, the art of logic;2 and disputed with each other, on various topics, in the syllogistic form. Ancient history, and heathen mytho-

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

2 “Ars sciendi sive Logica. Dr. Parr and Sir William Jones studied logic from this book.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 424.

logy would, of course, afford them the principal subjects of these disputations. But they often turned to the discussion of other subjects, particularly those of natural history and botany; some knowledge of which they found, no doubt, necessary, or, at least, useful, in reading such productions as “The Works and Days” of Hesiod, and the “Bucolics,” and “Georgics” of Virgil. They even ventured to soar into the airy regions of metaphysics. Here, abstruse questions, such as easily admit of debate, would soon occur; of which many were suggested to them by Dacier’s translation of Plato’s Dialogues. In this last sublime and difficult science Dr. Parr carried his inquiries, according to his own account, farther than his two associates; whose wonder, he said, was often excited by the manner in which his whole thoughts seemed to be absorbed, and lost in speculations, into which they did not enter. “In truth,” added he, “I was often engaged in diving into the depth, or unravelling the intricacies, of subjects, which they could not, at that time, comprehend.”

As another trial of intellectual strength and skill, the three young scholars challenged each other to produce the most perfect imitation of some popular or favourite author. Dr. Parr has often been heard to speak with rapturous delight of his struggles to surpass his two associates;1 the one, in writing short abrupt sentences in the manner of “Phalaris’ Epistles;” the other, in copying the gaudy and meretricious, though captivating style of “Hervey’s

1 Europ. Mag. 1809.

Meditations.”1 Such was the generous emulation which glowed in the breast of these extraordinary youths; and Dr. Parr might truly say, as he often said, with an animation which spoke the ardour as well as sincerity of his feelings, “that he owed much, indeed, to his good fortune in having had for his earliest companions and rivals two most uncommon boys, as they were afterwards most distinguished men!”

In forming and improving their own style, their choice was happily directed to the purest and best models in the pages of Swift, Addison, Johnson, and other classical writers of England.2 These they read perpetually, and their comparative merits they often discussed in conversation. Each adopted, for the object of his imitation, the author which he most admired; and all strove to transfuse into their own compositions some portion of the excellencies of those, which they had selected for their models. It were easy to surmise which of the three great writers, just mentioned, allured and fixed the choice of Dr. Parr, and fired his ambitious hopes even at this early period. Of his youth-

1 “Hervey’s Meditations. This book was the delight of Dr. Parr when he was a boy; and, for some time, was the model on which he endeavoured to form a style.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 438. From this book Dr. Parr borrowed much of the sermon, which he was accustomed, for many years, to deliver in Hatton church, on May-day.

2 “Ossian’s Poems, by Macpherson. I read this book, when a boy, and was enamoured with it. When at college, I again read Ossian with increased delight. I now, though convinced of the imposture, find pleasure in reading Macpherson. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 525.

ful compositions, one of the first is said to have been a tragedy founded on the story of Ruth; and, indeed, it appears that both himself and Sir W. Jones were accustomed, sometimes jointly, and sometimes separately, to compose slight tragedies; usually constructed on the basis of some historical narration by which their fancy had been struck, or their feelings interested, in the course of reading or conversation.

The voluntary exercises, with a view to their own improvement, in which the three young scholars employed the hours,1 usually devoted by other boys to their sports, it should be remembered, were superadded to that vigorous application which their classical studies no doubt demanded, when conducted by such masters as Dr. Thackeray and Dr. Sumner. On the resignation of the former, the charge of their education passed into the hands of the latter.2 The fame of the new master as a great scholar and an able teacher, eclipsed even that of his predecessor; and it was a subject of deep regret to Dr. Parr that he was permitted to receive the benefit of his instructions only for the space of eight or ten months; whilst it was the happier fate

1 “Dodsley’s Preceptor. When I was young, this book entertained and instructed me.”—“Baker’s Medulla Poetarum Romanorum. When I was a schoolboy at Harrow, with Sir W. Jones, this book was a favourite of his, and he occasionally lent it to me. S. P.”—“Nature Displayed, 7 vols. translated from the French of Pluche. The favourite book of Dr. Parr when a boy.”—Bibl. Parrian. p. 148. 475. 517.

2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

of Sir W. Jones and Dr. Bennet to enjoy that high advantage three or four years longer.1

Such are the few, but if he mistake not, interesting particulars, which the present writer has been able to collect of Dr. Parr, during the period of his education at Harrow School. Of youthful age thus beating high with literary ardour—thus pressing forward to literary distinction—who would not venture to predict great future excellence, even with far inferior powers of intellect? This was, indeed, a result as surely to be expected as any natural effect from any natural cause whatever.

1 “Philosophical Survey of Nature. This book is rather favourable to the doctrine of necessity. In page 70 is the story of the Hanover wild boy. When Dr. Parr was at Harrow this boy lodged in the boarding-house of Mrs. King, where Sir W. Jones and Bp. Bennet also boarded. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 705.

CHAPTER III. A.D. 1761—1765. Dr. Parr’s destination for the medical profession—His dislike to it—His reluctant attention to his duties—Progress of his private studies—Accomplishment of his wish to exchange the medical for the clerical profession—His opinion of the former—His father’s proposal of sending him to Cambridge.

In the spring of 1761, Dr. Parr was removed from Harrow School. His father thought it was now time that he should turn his attention from the general pursuits of literature to the studies more immediately connected with the medical profession; for which, from his childhood, he was designed. As he grew up, indeed, he felt and avowed the strongest aversion from it; but that aversion being regarded as little more than youthful folly or caprice, was over-ruled, and his future destination fixed by parental authority.

Returning accordingly to his father’s house, under his direction, at the age of about fourteen, he began, and for the three or four next years, continued to read medical books,1 to prepare medical prescriptions, and to assist in surgical operations. But in none of these employments did he engage

1 “When my father wished me to be educated to the practice of medicine, he judiciously and earnestly recommended to me Huxham’s ‘Essay on Fever,’ and Boerhaave’s ‘Aphorisms.’ S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 469.

with a willing mind; and, for the last, from a degree of nervous sensibility, which he could not controul, he felt himself utterly unfit. He once described to the writer of these pages the extreme horror, which shook his whole frame, when requested to give assistance in the amputation of a limb, and the stern look, which his want of firmness drew upon him at the time from his father, followed by the bitterest reproach afterwards. “But nature,” he said, “was too strong for reason or reproof.” “For a physician,” added he, “I might have done well enough, but for a surgeon never.”

One or two amusing anecdotes are related of him at this period of his life. Being called from some more agreeable employment to compound medicines in the surgery, he revengefully pointed out to his father a grammatical error he had committed in a Latin prescription, which drew upon him the animated reproof, “Sam, d— the prescription, make up the medicine.” On another occasion, in obedience to orders received, he prepared a prescription, which his father had entered, after much hesitation, in the day-book, and in which was included a small quantity of laudanum; an article then for the first time cautiously introduced into medical practice. The next day reporting, with some exultation, the good effects of his medicine, his father expressed, though still hesitatingly, an intention of repeating the dose. “You may do that safely, sir,” said the son. “Don’t be rash, boy. Beginners are always too bold. How should you know what is safe?” “Because, sir, when I made up the prescription,” re-plied the son, “I doubled the dose.” “Doubled the dose! how dared you do that?” angrily said the father. “Because,” coolly rejoined the son, “I saw you hesitate.”

Neither time nor paternal authority could overcome his extreme dislike to the profession in which he was at present engaged. Glad, therefore, to escape at every opportunity from the duties imposed upon him by his father, he returned with ardour to those literary pursuits, in which he most of all delighted, and in which he was most of all qualified to excel. There is a pleasing little story related on the authority of one who was afterwards his pupil,1 which strikingly shows, even at that early age, his inextinguishable thirst for knowledge, and his anxious endeavours to obtain it. Withdrawn from the instruction of Harrow School, all the value of which he well understood, he yet contrived to secure for himself its benefits, in some degree, by the following happy expedient. Being regularly informed every day of the lesson, which the head class was to study, whilst engaged in the business of the surgery, rolling the pill, or pounding the mortar, he laid his book containing that lesson open before him. On that lesson he fixed at every interval his eye, and devoted as much of his attention to it as he could, in the full expectation of afterwards receiving the aid of Dr. Sumner’s comments upon it. For these comments were always, at his urgent request, conveyed to him by one of his friends, Jones, or Bennet, or Lytton, or some

1 “Maurice’s Memoirs of Himself,” part 2. p. 162.

other boy equally smitten with the love of learning, and touched, like them, with the generous desire of cherishing and promoting it in the minds of others, as well as his own.

Besides the lessons of Harrow School, all the benefits of which he might almost have been said still to receive, though no longer one of its scholars; he found time for pursuing a plan which he had laid down for himself, of reading and studying closely and critically some of the best Greek and Roman authors. He not only renewed but extended his acquaintance with the works, to which he had been introduced at school; and consulted some of the best commentaries, which came within his reach. He now began, indeed, to engage more earnestly in those philological researches, to which he devoted so much of his time and attention in future life. He entered, too, most seriously on metaphysical investigations; and these, ever after, became with him a favourite object of pursuit. Even at this early period, he read and meditated, with some degree of care, the pages of De Crousaz and Locke, of Plato and Aristotle. He wrote much on classical subjects, in the language of the classics; and greatly improved his taste and skill in English composition, by frequent and diligent practice; particularly in writing two series of essays, chiefly on moral subjects. A strange story is told, not very credible, and scarcely intelligible, that all his youthful exercises, as well as those of his two literary associates, Jones and Bennet, were at a subsequent period stolen, and carried off to Holland. Sermons, written by Dr. Parr, it is said, at the age of fourteen, are still in existence; but whether these are to be found among the stolen property in Holland, or in the hands of some curious collector in England, is not stated.1

In this manner, more devoted to the pursuits of literature than to the business of the surgery, he passed three or four years of his life; reluctantly engaging in the duties of his profession, and perpetually urging his desire to relinquish it. Embarrassed with this opposition to his wishes, his father endeavoured to overcome it, by suggesting new plans and unfolding new prospects, more flattering, as he thought, to the ambitious views of his son’s aspiring mind. At one time, it was proposed that he should remove to London, and place himself under the direction of Mr. Trusdale, an eminent practitioner in the metropolis; thus gaining an introduction to a wider and more important sphere of exertion and improvement. At another time, an offer was made of sending him to one of the Scotch universities, for the prosecution of his medical studies on an extended scale, preparatory to his entering on the higher department of the profession. But earnest entreaties and alluring representations were found to be equally unavailing; and at length his father wisely determined, and he would have acted still more wisely if he had sooner determined, to yield to the strong bent of his son’s inclinations. About the close of the year 1764, Dr. Parr obtained the permission which he had so long and so fervently desired of

1 Annual Obituary for 1826, p. 123.

exchanging the profession of medicine for that of divinity. He had then nearly completed his seventeenth year.1

Though he could not help regretting that so many years had been devoted to pursuits which were now to be finally abandoned; yet he often confessed that to his medical studies he owed obligations, on which he ever afterwards reflected with much satisfaction. For thus he was qualified to give occasionally useful hints of medical advice, which in a retired village pastor is often a qualification of great public benefit. Thus, too, he found a source of increased pleasure and interest in the perusal of medical books, which he was always much in the habit of reading;2 and thus he availed himself, with more ease and advantage, of opportunities, as they occurred, of forming acquaintance and cultivating friendship with medical men—whom, as a body, he held in the highest estimation. “They are a class of men,” says he, writing to his friend, Dr. Percival, “whom, after a long and attentive survey of character, I have found to be the most enlightened professional men in the circle of human arts and sciences.”3 Often, on other occasions, he has added this further to their praise—that they are the most learned and the most moral of all the classes of the community.

With his views now directed towards the sacred

1 Europ. Mag. 1809.

2 Dr. Parr’s library contained a very considerable collection of medical works.

3 See this letter referred to, p. 8.

offices of the church, the advantages of academical education became an object most desirable, and almost indispensable, to Dr. Parr; whilst, at the same time, the means of providing for its necessary expenses also became a question of serious and anxious consideration to his father, whose circumstances, though probably easy, were far from being affluent. For reasons of economy, too perseveringly urged, it is said, by his stepmother, the condition of his going to the university, at first proposed and insisted on, was that he should enter as a sizar, or servitor; which, perhaps, some readers may require to be told, is a low order of students, who gain their maintenance by waiting upon others. To this degradation the high spirit of the son would not readily submit; and he desired a month for the consideration of the terms, which at the end of that time were rejected.

Afterwards, however, it appears that either parental pride was roused, or parental feelings were touched; and Dr. Parr obtained the desired permission to proceed to Cambridge, unaccompanied by the humiliating conditions. A small sum was advanced, sufficient for all present demands, with the hope that he might procure future supplies by his own exertions, as a scholar, or a private tutor. After much discussion, the choice of a college was decided in favour of Emanuel College, chiefly by the friendly interference and advice of Dr. Sumner; who entertained a high opinion of his former pupil, and who ever felt a deep interest in all that concerned his improvement and his happiness.

CHAPTER IV. A.D. 1765—1766. Dr. Parr’s admission into Emanuel College, Cambridge—Notice of Dr. Richardson, the master—of Mr. Hubbard and of Dr. Farmer, the tutors—Admission of Dr. Bennet into the same college—Course of Dr. Parr’s studies—Death of his father—His pecuniary difficulties—His abrupt departure from Cambridge, in consequence—His account of the university—Remarks upon it.

Leaving Harrow in the autumn of 1765, Dr. Parr proceeded to Cambridge; and, according to the plan proposed and approved, entered himself of Emanuel College.

This college was at that time placed under the superintendence of Dr. William Richardson,1 who is described as a man of kind temper and agreeable manners; but rigidly exact in enforcing the regulations of academical order and discipline. Although not, as commonly supposed, a Jacobite, he was a decided and vehement Tory; and exerted himself, with all the zeal of a partisan, to maintain and to diffuse his own principles in his college and the university. It is curious to remark, in this

1 “Godwini de Præsulibus Angliæ Com. &c. This beautifully printed work of Goodwin contains many valuable additions and improvements. It was conducted by the late Dr. Richardson, master of Emanuel, in my time; and is dedicated to his patron, Abp. Potter, who encouraged, and, I believe, assisted him in his very useful work. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 402.

instance, the fluctuating nature of all human institutions. Emanuel College, at this time, so completely under the controul of persons of the highest toryism, both in church and state, was formerly regarded as the great nursery of the opposite principles, civil and religious, as held by those, who were contemptuously denominated puritans and roundheads.1

Such was the master of Emanuel, at the time Dr. Parr became a member of it: of which the tutors, at the same time, were, Mr. Hubbard and Dr. Farmer; the former a man of considerable, and the latter of high, repute. Of their merits, and of his own obligations to them, Dr. Parr thus speaks: “My tutors were eminently able, and to me uniformly kind.”2 In his catalogue of distinguished academics, who have done honour to the universities to which they belonged, he introduces the name of Mr. Hubbard, whom he calls “his venerable tutor:”1 and he has offered to Dr. Farmer other testimonies of his esteem and gratitude on various occasions. To both some respectful notice is due, in a work dedicated to the honourable remembrance of a pupil, whom their instructions have contributed to form to all that greatness of character, as a man and a scholar, which he afterwards attained.

The Rev. Henry Hubbard, M. A., was born at Ipswich, 1708, of humble parents; and, after the usual preparatory education, was entered of Clare

1 Nichols’s Liter. Anec. vol. ii. p. 619.

2 Spital Serm. p. 125. and p. 110.

Hall, Cambridge: whence, in 1733, he was removed to Emanuel College. In the discharge of his official duties, he was faithful, active, and unwearied. To a profound knowledge, he added an ardent love of the science of which he was professor; and with a deep-felt concern, combined a well-directed activity for the improvement of those, who were committed to his charge.1 As a man, he possessed many amiable qualities. In his temper, he was retired and unambitious; in his manners, simple and unassuming. Though exposed to the charge of avarice, he was in reality disinterested, and to a certain degree generous; but so frugal and parsimonious were his habits, that he amassed a larger fortune than any fellow of a college without a patrimony had ever been known to acquire.2 Though not distinguished by the extent or depth of his theological learning, he was a good divine; and, aided by the advantage of a dignified person and a commanding voice, he became a popular preacher. Like the majority of his college, he was a Tory in early life; but with advancing years and maturer reflection, he opened his mind to views more consonant with reason, and more conducive to the im-

1 “In this college he was happy in receiving the countenance, and in being permitted to attend the lectures, of that excellent tutor, Mr. Henry Hubbard, although he had been admitted under another person.”—Bp. Hurd’s Notes of Occurrences in his own Life.

2 “Harry Hubbard is to be buried on Thursday next, in the chapel-vestry. He has left 800l. in legacies, and 8000l. to the college; the largest fortune, I ever heard of, acquired by the fellow of a college.”—Letter from Mr. Tyson to Mr. Gough: Nichols’s Anec. vol. viii. p. 360.

provement, the elevation, and the happiness of the human species.

During his long residence in his college, he gained for himself so high a place in the good opinion of the whole society, that on the death of Dr. Richardson, in 1775, he was unanimously chosen to succeed him. But he declined the honour in a respectful address, modestly pleading his inability, and urging the growing infirmities of age. This pleasing and gratifying incident of his life he survived three years; and, on the 23d of Jan. 1778, peacefully expired. He published only a single sermon,1 preached in behalf of the widows of indigent clergy, in his native town, Ipswich, 1750.2

The second tutor, the Rev. Rich. Farmer, D.D., was of higher fame, and more splendid fortunes. He was born at Leicester, where his father was a hosier; and having received the earlier part of his education at the grammar-school of that town, he entered himself a pensioner of Emanuel College in 1752. In 1765, he was appointed the classical tutor; and in 1775 was chosen master of the same college. He was afterwards advanced to the office of principal librarian, and was twice elected vice-chancellor of the university.

Dr. Farmer was greatly distinguished by all those amiable qualities, which form the agreeable man and the delightful companion. He was sincere, frank, kind, generous, cheerful, and social. As a tutor, though his qualifications were such as

1 “My venerable tutor, Harry Hubbard’s sermon, was much and justly admired. S. P.”

2 Nichols’s Anec. vol. ii. p. 619.

to inspire respect, yet something considerable must be deducted from the value of his services, and imputed to that indolence of nature, and to those irregularities of habit, which constituted his principal defects. As a master, it was his just praise, that whilst other societies were too often disturbed by feuds and animosities, in the large college over which he presided, uninterrupted order and harmony prevailed; chiefly through the influence of his own good humour, softening the asperities of others, and infusing itself into the minds of all around him. As vice-chancellor, jealously watchful over the interests of the university, and carefully attentive at the same time to those of the town, which owed many important improvements to him; he acquired in both, and for many years retained, greater authority and influence than any other individual of his time.

As to his literary attainments, he held in no regard the mathematics, though the prevailing study of the university; and even in classical learning, to which he was much devoted, he gained the character of a good, rather than a great scholar. He owed his celebrity chiefly to his knowledge of old English literature, especially that part which is connected with the English drama; and as a writer, his reputation entirely depends upon one small but admirable work, entitled “An Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare:” which, by the confession of all, is a masterly performance; and completely settles a question, till then so frequently and so keenly agitated among men of letters.

Dr. Farmer was no proficient in theological learn-ing. The religious creed of the old church he adopted, just as he found it; and this he warmly maintained, in opposition to the then rising, and now powerful party, known under the name of Evangelical. If he was little distinguished as a divine, he was not much more so as a preacher. His sermons were ill composed, and worse delivered. His utterance at his first commencing was so vehement, as to make nervous people start; and so loud and so rapid in its progress, and often so abrupt in its close, as to produce, even upon those who were not nervous, the most displeasing, and sometimes ludicrous effect.

In his public principles, Dr. Farmer was a Tory of a high tone and temper. Ardently devoted to “the powers that be,” immovably attached to the existing order of things, he constantly opposed every scheme, and even every hint of reform, either in church or state, however reasonable or moderate. With the same pertinacity, he resisted some new academical regulations, which were proposed in his time; and yet so evidently wise and salutary were they, that, in despite of old and stubborn prejudices, they have since been in part adopted.

The qualities which Dr. Farmer possessed were, it need not be said, of brightest lustre in the eyes of a Tory ministry, like that of Lord North and of Mr. Pitt; and high preferment followed of course. The career of his professional honours may thus be slightly traced. He was appointed in 1769, a Whitehall preacher—in 1780, a prebendary of Lichfield—1782, a prebendary of Canterbury—in 1790, a residentiary of St. Paul’s; and, besides all these honours, another greater than all was placed not only within his sight, but also within his grasp: for twice the dignity of the bench was offered, and twice refused!

Early in 1797, Dr. Farmer was seized with an illness, which proved long and painful; and which, to the grief of the whole university, and of a wide social circle, terminated fatally on the 8th of Sept. in the same year. He was buried in the chapel of his college, near the altar, in a spot chosen by himself; and against the wall of the adjoining cloisters is a monumental tablet, of which the inscription in Latin is candidly, as well as pleasingly and forcibly written by Dr. Parr.1 By the same pen, also, is traced the following delineation of his character, in which its amiable and respectable qualities are brought, by a few masterly strokes, finely and strikingly to view, whilst the defects, which shaded them, are lightly touched with the hand of tenderness and delicacy:—

“Of any undue partiality towards the master of Emanuel College, I shall not be suspected by those persons who know how little his sentiments accord with my own upon many ecclesiastical and many political matters. From rooted principle and ancient habit, he is a Tory—I am a Whig; and we have both of us too much confidence in each other, and too much respect for ourselves, to dissemble what we think, upon any grounds, to any extent. Let me then do him the justice, which, amidst all

1 App. No. II.

our differences of opinion, I am convinced he will ever be ready to do me. His knowledge is various, extensive, and recondite. With much seeming negligence, and perhaps, in later years, with some real relaxation, he understands more, and remembers more, about common and uncommon subjects of literature, than many of those, who would be thought to read all the day, and meditate half the night. In quickness of apprehension, and acuteness of discernment, I have not often seen his equal. Through many a convivial hour have I been charmed by his vivacity; and upon his genius have I reflected in many a serious moment, with pleasure, with admiration, but not without regret, that he has never concentrated and exerted all the great powers of his mind in some great work, upon some great subject. Of his liberality in patronising learned men, and of his zeal in promoting learned publications, I could point out numerous instances. Without the smallest propensities to avarice, he possesses a large income; and without the mean submissions of dependence, he has risen to high station. His ambition, if he has any, is without insolence; his munificence is without ostentation; his wit is without acrimony; and his learning is without pedantry.”1

Such were the tutors of Emanuel College: under whose direction Dr. Parr entered on his academic course, with a mind confident of its own powers, well-disciplined by previous culture, and

1 Remarks on Combe’s Statement, p. 25.

panting after excellence, in every object of its aim. Classical, philological and metaphysical1 studies were still those, to which his attention was most fondly turned, and on which it was most eagerly fixed. But secretly aspiring to the highest of honourable distinctions, which, it is well known, Cambridge too partially bestows upon proficiency in her own favourite studies, mathematics and natural philosophy—he formed the serious determination of bending the whole force of his mind to those branches of knowledge; respecting which, important as they are, it may well admit of dispute, whether they are entitled to that great and almost exclusive importance, too long claimed for them in that university.

Amidst the high resolves which Dr. Parr had thus formed, and the ardent hopes which he had thus ventured to cherish—grievous to relate!—his pecuniary resources failed him, and he was reduced to the hard necessity of withdrawing himself from all the delights, and depriving himself of all the advantages of academic life. The circumstance is feelingly deplored by himself, in the following passage: “I was compelled to leave Cambridge, not by the want of a proper education, for I had ar-

1 “Scheibleri Metaphysica, &c. A favourite book. I first met with it in the public library at Cambridge. I diligently read it at the university, and at Hatton. S. P.”—“Vossii Aristarchus. This book Dr. Parr read at college; and there is no book to which he is more indebted for his knowledge of the Latin language.”—“Sophoclis Tragcediæ. Interleaved in 4 vols, completely filled with Ms. notes, probably written by Dr. Parr when at college.”—Bibl. Parr. pp. 209. 453. 701.

rived at the first place of the first form of Harrow School, when I was not quite fourteen—not by the want of useful tutors, for mine were eminently able, and to me uniformly kind—not by the want of ambition, for I had begun to look up ardently and anxiously to academical distinctions—not by the want of attachment to the place, for I regarded it then, as I continue to regard it, with the fondest and most unfeigned affection—but by another want, which it were unnecessary to name; and, for the supply of which, after much hesitation, I determined to provide, by patient toil and resolute self-denial, when I had not completed my twentieth year. I ceased, therefore, to reside, with an aching heart. I looked back, with mingled feelings of regret and humiliation, to advantages, of which I could no longer partake, and honours, to which I could no longer aspire.”1 Who, even at this distant day, can help sympathising with the sighs and the sorrows of a youthful scholar, fired with the spirit of literary ambition,—upon whom the fair prospect of fostering and gratifying it, thus pleasingly opened, and thus painfully closed?

When Dr. Parr went to Cambridge, he was in his eighteenth year; and the whole time of his continuance there scarcely exceeded twelve or fourteen months. Yet at that early age, and in that short space, his genius and his learning shone out so conspicuously, as to attract the notice, and excite the admiration, not only of those of his own college, but also of many of the most distinguished

1 Spital Serm. p. 125.

members of the university. Nor was his conduct less approved, than were his talents and his acquirements admired. His application to his studies was close and incessant, and his obedience to the college rules strict and exemplary. Though his spirits were lively and even gay, yet his pleasures were few, and of the most temperate and innocent kind. Though his temper was in a high degree social, yet his acquaintance was restricted to a small number, and those chiefly men of an inquiring mind and of studious habits.

One of the most intimate of all his associates was his former schoolfellow, Dr. Bennet, who had entered of the same college, about the same time; and whose tastes, opinions and pursuits were much in harmony with his own. At every interval of leisure, it was their great delight to meet and converse on literary and other subjects: often visiting at each other’s rooms; and, almost every day, pacing together the college-walks, or wandering through the neighbouring fields. To this early and beloved friend Dr. Parr unbosomed all his most secret thoughts, and especially those anxieties, which soon began to press heavily on his mind about the means of present or future support.

Towards the end of January, 1766, only a few months after Dr. Parr had left Harrow, and had removed to Cambridge, his father died suddenly; and he was summoned home to discharge the melancholy duty of following the remains of his last surviving parent to the grave. After a short absence he returned to Cambridge, finding himself in possession only of a small sum of money, all that his father had been able, or willing, to bequeath to him. That small sum, whatever it was, he confided to the care of his friend, Dr. Bennet, on whose considerate and faithful advice he was accustomed to rely. But so small it was, that no frugality on the one side, or careful management on the other, could prevent it from being, in a little time, exhausted.

And what was then to be done? The college to which he belonged offered him no chance of a fellowship: he had no friend, no patron, from whose resources he might be permitted to draw; and, rather than adopt the only remaining expedient of incurring debts which he could not speedily repay, he determined to leave Cambridge,1—a resolution the more painful, because he could entertain little or no hope of returning to it. He kept his name, however, on the college boards, with an intention, which subsequent events frustrated, of performing the usual exercises for a bachelorship in divinity—a degree which, by the customs of this university, is always granted to non-resident members, who have been in holy orders for ten years. The custom is peculiar to Cambridge; and seems liable, it must be owned, to some abuse, by too easily allowing to persons,

1 “On balancing his accounts, he found, to his extreme surprise, that he had 3l. 17s. over and above the full payment of his debts; and such had been the economy of his expenditure, that, he said, had he previously known of any such sum, he should have remained longer at Cambridge.”—Memorabilia of Dr. Parr. Lond. Mag. April, 1825.

not well deserving of its honours, a right to claim them.

The following sketch of the literary pursuits at Cambridge was given by Dr. Parr, in answer to the well-known remarks of Mr. Gibbon on the state of learning in the two universities; and it refers, no doubt, in some degree, to the time of his own residence there, though still more expressly to a period somewhat later.

Having mentioned the names, and appealed to the public services of those eminent professors, Dr. Halifax, Dr. Rutherford, Dr. Waring, Dr. Watson, all men of his own time, he thus proceeds:—“Whatever lectures may, or may not have been given by other professors, I am convinced that Mr. Gibbon, if he had visited Cambridge, would have been surprised to find, and ready, I trust, he would have been to embrace, many opportunities for congratulating other men upon the enjoyment of those advantages, which, during his own time, may not have been in his own college accessible to himself. He would have seen many elegant scholars, and many deep mathematicians among the tutors: he would have seen the most generous emulation, and the most indefatigable diligence in the younger members of the university: he would have seen plans of study recommended for their use—exercises prescribed for the display of their ingenuity, or the exertions of their industry—rewards proposed for their merits, in mathematics, in poesy, in prose, in Greek composition, in Latin and in English. In almost every college he would have seen young men, who were able to understand originals without the dim and delusive light of translations; who were well acquainted with Greek as well as Latin classics; and who had improved their taste, as well as enlarged their knowledge, by the aid of ‘dead languages.’ He would have seen days, and weeks, and years, employed in the most intense labour upon ‘living science.’ He would have seen amusements, exercise, society, health, and sometimes even life, cheerfully sacrificed to the acquisition of that knowledge which no learned man ever despised, who possessed it; and which no candid man would depreciate, who possesses it not.”1

This is a great, and many will think a flattering account of Cambridge literature. Indeed, in perusing it, a little allowance ought, in fairness, to be made for the natural warmth of disputation, and the common effect of unjust depreciation on the one side, in producing exaggeration on the other. It appears from a paper in the “Idler,” referring to about the same period of time, that Dr. Johnson, another competent judge, was far from entertaining so favourable an idea of the state of learning in the two universities; though he repels the imputation of wishing to decry them. For, not to insist on the “Journal” there given2 of a fellow of a college “steeped in port and ignorance,”—an individual, it is apprehended, of a large species, and a portrait drawn, it is

1 Spital Serm. p. 124.

2 No. 33, written by the Rev. T. Warton.

feared, but too closely from the life—even when the great moralist speaks as from himself, he states with concern that these noble institutions are “fallen from their primeval simplicity;” he observes, with sarcastic severity, that “literature is not the essential requisite of a modern academic;” and he seems to look for the chief advantages of these celebrated schools, not so much from the learning or the diligence of present instructors, as from “the Genius of the Place,” inspiring ardour in literary pursuits, by the recollection of its older and better times, and of the scholars of ancient renown, who mused and studied beneath its venerable walls. The strong representations and the spirited remonstrances of Dr. Adam Smith,1 Dr. Knox,2 Dr. Jebb,3 and other writers since his time, have also shown the defective state of our universities, and the necessity, in many important respects, of new and better regulations. If then it should be thought that Dr. Parr has drawn his pleasing delineation of Cambridge with the fond partiality of a son who loves and was torn from his “mother,”4 still that there is, upon the whole,

1 See the “Wealth of Nations.”

2 See his “Letter to Lord North,” and his “Remarks on the State of the Two Universities,” in Treatise on Education, vol. ii.

3 Jebb’s Works, vol. ii. p. 255.

4 Mr. Gibbon had said of Oxford, “She will as cheerfully renounce me for a son, as I am willing to disclaim her for a mother.” Of Cambridge, Dr. Parr re-echoes, “Never shall I have the presumption to disclaim her as a mother; and never may she have just occasion to renounce me as a son.”—Spital Serm. p. 125.

much truth in his statement, will hardly be denied. The outlines of the picture, at least, every impartial person will allow, are just, even if the colouring be high.

What kind and gratifying attentions Dr. Parr himself had received, and what agreeable and friendly connexions he had formed at Cambridge:—what high expectations of important advantages, from along residence in it, once delighted him:—and what sad and severe regret was excited in his mind, when he found himself obliged so soon to retire from it, may be inferred from the following passage:—

“Upon the access, with which I was honoured, at a very early period, to the presence of men, high in academical rank, and conspicuous for literary excellence, often have I reflected with the pleasure and the pride of an ancient writer,1 who has more than once recorded his own intimacy with the poets and the statesmen of the Augustan age. The unreserved conversation of scholars, the disinterested offices of friendship, the use of valuable books, and the example of good men, are endearments by which Cambridge will keep a strong hold upon my esteem, my respect, and my gratitude, to the latest moment of my life.”2

1 See Horace, Sat. x. lib. 1. Sat. i. lib. 2. Epist. xx. lib. 1.

2 Spital Serm. p. 125.

CHAPTER V. A. D. 1767—1771. Dr. Parr, head assistant of Harrow School—Some of its distinguished scholars—Mr. Sheridan—Dr. Parr’s official labours—His private studies—His ordination—His appointment to the curacy of Willesden—Death of Dr. Sumner—Dr. Parr’s inscription for his monument—Intended Memoirs of his Life.

Departing with slow and reluctant steps from the hallowed seat of learning and science, in which he had cherished the fond hope of passing many important and happy years of his life, Dr. Parr returned once more to Harrow. But here, too, the scene was mournfully changed! During the short period of his absence, as already noticed, his father had died, leaving him without the means even of a bare subsistence; and, in the house of his stepmother, if he found the shelter, he certainly could not find the pleasures or the comforts, of a home. Bitter were the pangs which, at that time, he felt—as he often said, with a deep sigh at the recollection—both in looking back to the golden prospects which had just closed upon him, at Cambridge, and in looking forward, through the gloom which then hung over his views, to the future.

But, under these circumstances of distress and discouragement, he was soon consoled, in no slight degree, by the testimony to his merits, which he received from one well qualified to estim-mate them justly; followed by an advantageous offer, which the same person, with friendly urgency, pressed on his acceptance. This was Dr. Sumner, his former preceptor, who, with every gratifying assurance of sincere and high regard, tendered him the office of head assistant in the school in which he had been educated. Though this office was, in many respects, agreeable to his wishes, and, in all, honourable to his character; yet it was not accepted, without some strong feelings of reluctance, arising principally from the consideration of his own youthful age,—not having yet reached his twentieth year—and the difficulty of maintaining authority over those, as pupils, with many of whom he had formerly associated as schoolfellows. But, in a little time, the repeated solicitations of Dr. Sumner prevailed; and Dr. Parr himself had the satisfaction to find that, in the event, the dreaded difficulty was more easily overcome than he had expected, by the natural firmness of his mind, and still more by the influence which his talents and qualifications soon obtained for him, and which every advancing year confirmed and increased.1

In the month of February, 1767, Dr. Parr entered on his new and laborious office, which he continued to hold during the space of about five years; and whilst, for the able and faithful discharge of his duty, he was highly respected by his superiors; at the same time he greatly endeared himself, by his kind temper and manner, to all his

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

pupils. He often related of himself, that though he used more indulgence than those who had preceded him at Harrow, yet he kept better order; “because,” said he, “I treated the boys with the respect due to young gentlemen.” Thus they were taught to respect themselves, and to acquire, in some degree at least, those feelings of self-dignity, which are ever found to be the surest preservative from low and unworthy actions, and the strongest incentive to propriety and rectitude of behaviour.

About this time, there were several scholars of Harrow, who afterwards appeared with honourable distinction in the literary and the political world—among whom may be mentioned the Earl of Hardwicke,1 the Marquis of Abercorn, Earl Spencer, Wm. Lytton, Esq., Nathaniel Halhed, Richard Archdall, and Mr. Sheridan.

Of this last celebrated person, it has been said that the honour was reserved for Dr. Parr of being the first to discover, and to call forth into active exertion, those extraordinary powers which afterwards blazed out, with so much lustre, in some departments of literature, and especially on the great theatre of public affairs. This account, though generally received, is, however, declared by Dr. Parr, in a letter recently published, to be incorrect.2 Speaking of himself and his learned coadjutor, he says, “We both of us discovered

1 “Athenian Letters, &c. The first edition was lent me by the late Lord Hardwicke. I have a second and a much improved edition given me by the present Lord Hardwicke, who was once my pupil. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 334.

2 Moore’s Life of Sheridan, vol. i. p. 6, &c.

talents which neither of us could bring into action, while Sheridan was a school-boy. He gave us few opportunities of praising him, yet he was aware that we thought highly of him; and anxiously wished that more should be done than he was disposed to do.” It evidently appears, however, from Dr. Parr’s own statement, to which the reader is referred, that something considerable was successfully done by the two able teachers, for the improvement of their careless and indolent, but ingenious and interesting pupil.

If, then, according to this amended account, the praise hitherto appropriated to Dr. Parr must be imparted in a degree to Dr. Sumner, yet it does not follow that it must be so in an equal degree. On the contrary, from the details of the statement above referred to, it is clear that the larger portion of that praise is still due to him, to whom the whole has been, perhaps, erroneously assigned; and what his own modesty or generosity refuses to accept, the justice of others may be permitted to claim for him. The facts of the case seem now to be these:—

In the absence of Dr. Sumner, when the charge of the two upper forms devolved upon Dr. Parr, the talents and the deficiencies of young Sheridan were, for the first time, distinctly observed and accurately marked by the assistant; and by him were afterwards fully reported to the principal. In consequence of that report, the eye of Dr. Sumner was directed, with more strict and observant attention, to the pupil, and some new and stronger efforts were exerted for his improvement. Even the plan itself, adopted for this purpose by Dr. Sumner, was first suggested and was always greatly aided by Dr. Parr; and the effect of it in fixing volatile thought, and in stimulating careless indolence to close application, was by no means small, though still much less than might have been wished or expected. On the whole, therefore, the account which has already gone forth to the public, seems not to be far from the truth; and, in reply to his own statement, it might have been said to the learned assistant of Harrow, “Hujus autem rei tu, es dux, si etiam comes sit.”1

Amidst the daily and almost hourly toils of delivering instructions, not only in the public school but also to some private pupils on whom he attended, it must now be related, that Dr. Parr was still ardent and incessant in his own studies. These, besides occupying the short intervals of leisure occurring in the day, usually commenced with more serious deliberation in the evening, and were frequently continued to a late hour of the night.2 He now extended to a wider range his classical readings, and dived with deeper researches into the treasures of philological lore,3 contained in the writings of commentators and critics, ancient and modern. He perused with continued and increased attention the works of the great metaphysical writers, and entered, for the first

1 Cicero. 2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

3 “Marklandi Epistola Critica ad Fr. Hare. This was the first publication of Markland; and one of the first philological works ever read by Dr. Parr.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 311.

time, into the vast field of theology; the whole compass of which he afterwards traversed with the bold step, the searching eye, and the impartial spirit of an honest, an ardent, and a fearless inquirer after truth. It must be owned, however, that the truth which he discovered for himself, he did not always feel the obligation of avowing, for the benefit of others.

In all his religious and philosophical inquiries, and classical and other literary pursuits, Dr. Parr received much important assistance, as well as much animating encouragement from Dr. Sumner; who was accustomed, when the daily business of the school ended, to withdraw with him into some more retired apartment, and to engage with him in free discussion on the various subjects to which his thoughts or his reading had been directed. Thus aided by the knowledge and experience, guided by the taste and the judgment of his learned superior,1 who seems to have been a man of the most enlarged and enlightened views, on all subjects of literature, politics, and religion, Dr. Parr gradually formed those maxims of thinking and acting, which became, in matters both of specula-

1 Of men, who, unfortunately, “have passed away without leaving any trace behind, except in the admiring recollection of their contemporaries,” who would not gladly gather up every little fragment? The following story is told on the authority of Mr. Lytton: “Dr. Sumner was so delighted with Fielding’s Tom Jones, that he used to declare he would, at any time, give ten guineas wholly to forget that fascinating novel, for the pleasure of coming anew to the literary banquet.”—Maurice’s Mem. part 2. p. 149.

tion and practice, the great leading and governing principles of his future life.

It is mentioned in the “Memoirs of his own Life,”1 by Mr. Maurice, the author of “Indian Antiquities,” who was himself a pupil of Dr. Parr, that the democratic spirit prevailed at this period in Harrow School; though, as he carefully adds, “to no culpable extent;” and he traces the cause of it to the admirable lessons so zealously inculcated on the young scholars, in the course of their classical studies. For who could help, as he well remarks, catching something of that love of freedom, and hate of tyranny, which breathes with such high and glowing spirit in all the great orators, poets, and historians of Greece and Rome—when these writings were explained, and those grand swelling sentiments of liberty enforced, by the learning, the argument, and the eloquence of the master of Harrow? To such early and powerful influence, acting on young and ingenuous minds, may undoubtedly be ascribed, in no small degree, that devotedness to freedom, and that attachment to popular rights, which marked so honourably the character of Dr. Parr, and his distinguished friend Sir Wm. Jones, especially in times, unhappily, too remarkable for corrupt subserviency to power, and for the meanest political sycophancy. Even of Dr. Bennet, when advanced to a bishopric, and thus removed from the retirement of a college into the circle of a court, it is only justice to say, that he ever acted with an independence of spirit, wor-

1 Part 1. p. 62.

thy the pupil of Sumner, and the associate of Parr and of Jones; and that he has entitled himself to a rank, not only amongst the most learned, but also amongst the most enlightened and liberal prelates, who have, in any age, possessed and adorned the episcopal dignity.

But, whilst occupied in the various labours of public and private tuition, and in the prosecution of his own important studies, Dr. Parr did not lose sight of the sacred profession, on which his early choice had been fixed, and to which his more matured wishes had been constantly directed. Having for some time entertained serious thoughts of entering into holy orders, at Christmas, 1769, he applied for ordination, and received it from the hands of Dr. Terry, Bishop of London. He immediately commenced his ministerial services at Willesden and Kingsbury, two neighbouring parishes in Middlesex, to the curacy of which he had been appointed by the incumbent, the Rev. Moses Wight. But the inconvenient distance of these places, five or six miles from Harrow, obliged him to relinquish the engagement, so early as the Easter of 1770.1

In the autumn of 1771 an event took place which was most truly mournful to Dr. Parr, and which was followed in its consequences by a great and painful change in his present situation and his future prospects. This was the death of “his beloved friend, instructor, and guide”—for so he reverently and affectionately speaks of Dr. Sumner

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

—a name consecrated to honourable and lasting remembrance, not, indeed, by the learned works which he produced, for he wrote little,1 but by the eminence of his virtues and attainments, and by the ability, the fidelity, and the success with which he discharged his various duties, as head of an important public seminary.2

The character of Dr. Sumner, finely drawn and beautifully coloured by Sir William Jones, has been already noticed;3 and the fervent, almost enthusiastic praise of one, so accomplished as a scholar, and so excellent as a man, is no slight encomium. Another tribute to his memory, equally estimable for the weight of its authority, was offered with equal warmth of veneration and gratitude by Dr. Parr himself, in the monumental inscription placed over the spot, near which his remains lie interred, in Harrow Church. It is written in Latin, with all the force and the elegance which that language so well admits, and

1 He published only one sermon, a Concio ad Clerum; “which, in point of Latinity, equals,” says Dr. Parr, “any of the compositions from the pen of any one of our countrymen in the last century.”—Gent. Mag. May, 1825.

2 “Dr. Sumner deservedly possessed the confidence of his scholars, and the respect of his literary companions. He had elegant manners, various erudition, and most exquisite taste. He was the instructor of my boyhood, and the guide of my youth; and during the thirty-eight years that have elapsed since his death, I have often thought of him, and often spoken of him, as ‘animam qualem neque candidiorem terra tulit, neque cui me esset devinctior alter.’ Samuel Parr, Hatton, Oct. 21, 1810.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 175.

3 See page 17.

which the writer so well knew how to employ.—It commemorates the rich endowments of Dr. Sumner’s mind, and the assiduity and success with which they were cultivated—the vast and various learning which he acquired—the extraordinary powers of eloquence which he possessed—the sportive wit which he had ever at command; in which, if there was any poignancy, it was softened and blended with Attic delicacy:—and all these it celebrates, as accompanied with the higher qualities of a heart, in all its inmost recesses pure and sincere—of manners, at once amiable and dignified—and of morals, studiously formed and invariably governed by the strictest rules of virtuous conduct.1

Such was Dr. Sumner. These are not the exaggerated praises of the tomb; but, according to the report of all who knew him, the fair and faithful representation of his life and character.—He died of an apoplectic seizure, at the age of forty-one, Sept. 22, 1771; and his sudden and premature death struck with grief and consternation not only the school over which he so honourably presided, and the wide circle of his acquaintances and friends, throughout which he was the object equally of respect and love, but also the whole literary world, which he adorned by his genius and his erudition; and which there was hope, had his life been lengthened, he would have instructed and delighted by some literary production worthy of himself.

Of such a man, it is surely to be lamented that

1 App. No. II.

no biographical record exists. A memoir of him, indeed, was meditated, and in part executed, by Dr. Parr, about the year 1815. It is left, however, in a state too imperfect to admit of its being given to the public. At least such is the report; but that the work had reached a state of great forwardness appears by the following extracts from a letter addressed by himself to his friend, the late John Nichols, Esq.2

“I have not lost sight of the Memoirs of Sumner.”—“My friend, I am far more anxious than you can be to get this business off my spirits; and the more so, as my intentions are known at Eton, Harrow, and Winchester, and much curiosity is excited.”—“Oh! that I could finish this work about Sumner! Books, letters, thoughts and materials are all ready; but where is to be found the scribe?”—“Between two and three hundred folio pages are now lying in my library; and must continue to lie there, till I can get a diligent and faithful scribe. The floor of my upper library is covered with books, to which I must have recourse; and I am sure that with the materials I have collected, and with my habits of rapid composition, I could in seven or eight days complete my Memoirs of Robert Sumner. I should suppose that seventy or eighty additional pages would be sufficient.”1

1 Gent. Mag. June, 1827.

2 This account of the state of the work is confirmed by another letter, published in the same number of the Gent. Mag. from E. H. Barker, Esq. of Thetford, who was employed as the amanuensis.

CHAPTER VI. A.D. 1771. Degree of M. A. conferred on Dr. Parr—His nomination as a candidate for the mastership of Harrow School—His rejection—Reasons for it assigned—Commotion in the school in consequence—Project of a new establishment—Dr. Parr’s marriage—Opening of Stanmore School—Secession of forty boys from Harrow—and of the second assistant.

To the mastership of Harrow School, as an ultimate object of his ambition, it seems that Dr. Parr had for some time directed his views; encouraged, it is said, by the approbation and the good wishes of the late principal. Dr. Sumner was then, indeed, himself in the prime of life; but whether he meditated, at no distant period, a resignation in favour of his friend, is to the writer unknown. On his death, however, Dr. Parr immediately declared himself a candidate to succeed him.

By the statutes of the founder, it is required, as a previous qualification, that every candidate should be a Master of Arts; and for that purpose application was made to the Duke of Grafton, then Chancellor of Cambridge, by whom Dr. Parr was instantly and handsomely recommended to the heads of the colleges. The proper papers were signed, the necessary orders were issued, and towards the end of September 1771, he was made, per literas regias, A. M. Of the kind and prompt attention which he received from all parties concerned on this occasion, he thus gratefully speaks:

“I was assisted in the most gracious manner by the chancellor, and by the several heads of houses, when the degree of Master became necessary to me in the pursuit of a most precious object.”1

Dr. Parr was now formally announced as a candidate for the vacant office, and the most sanguine hopes were entertained of his success. His claims, from great qualifications and from past services, were strong; and these were strengthened by the good opinion of the late master, and by the very statutes of the founder, which direct that preference should be given to those educated in the school; and which further direct that the higher offices should be filled, unless weighty reasons interfered, by those who have faithfully discharged the duties of the lower. But all these claims, powerful as they were, proved on the day of election unavailing; and some secret preponderating influence decided the choice of the governors in favour of the Rev. Benj. Heath, late assistant in Eton School. Of him, however, it is but just to say, that he was in himself an honourable opponent; and, for his qualifications, not unworthy to stand in competition even with Dr. Parr: though few could deny that, upon the whole, his pretensions were outweighed by those of his rival.

This decision, by which the claims of acknowledged merit and of tried fidelity were rejected, and a strong appeal to all the common principles of gratitude as well as justice resisted, appeared to the general apprehension so strange and per-

1 Spital Serm. p. 125. Europ. Mag. Sept. 1809.

verse, that curiosity was soon busied in searching into its motives. Youth was the avowed, but all agreed it was only the pretended, and not the real objection. Some secret causes, however, it was soon discovered, there were; so ill-disguised, as not to be long concealed. The following account of the true state of the case, as it was well understood at the time, is given on the authority of the late William Warburton Lytton, Esq.,1 who was himself then a scholar of Harrow.2

It seems that, by their statutes, the governors have a right not merely to solicit but to command holydays at their own discretion; and that, of late years, they had exercised that right so perpetually and so improperly, as to produce a dangerous relaxation in the discipline, and a serious interruption to the business of the school. Determined to check or stop this great and growing mischief, Dr. Sumner sometimes strongly remonstrated, and sometimes firmly resisted. The governors took high offence at what they thought an invasion of their privileges; and at length entirely withdrew their favour not only from him, but from all who supported him. Amongst these last stood conspicuously forward, Dr. Parr; and though they could not well attempt to displace one master for such an opposition to their will, they determined, at least, to defeat the election of another, from whom the same opposition was to be expected. Nor were they ashamed to urge,

1 Formerly of Knebworth Park, near Welwyn, Herts.

2 Maurice’s Memoirs, part 2. p. 150.

as the sole reason for his rejection, that he was then only in his twenty-fifth year; though they might have found more than enough to counterbalance that circumstance in his commanding person, in his looks much older than his years,1 in the degree of experience which he had already acquired, and in the high qualifications which he indisputably possessed.

Perhaps it may be amusing to some readers to be told that on this occasion, for the first time, Dr. Parr covered his head with that large obumbrating wig, which has so often been held up to public notice, and sometimes to public ridicule. On the same occasion, he put on also the dress, and assumed the manners of an elderly ecclesiastic; so that, with the aid of features marked with age even in youth, he had all the look, to those who did not know him, of a person ten or fifteen years older than he was.2 Nor is this to be condemned as an improper artifice, since such

1 This brings to the writer’s recollection an instance of Sir Wm. Jones’s pleasantry, which Dr. Parr often related in his hearing. They were walking, or riding together, in the neighbourhood of Harrow, in the days of their early intimacy, when Sir Wm. Jones, suddenly stopping and staring full in his countenance, exclaimed, “Upon my word, Parr, you are a fine fellow; if you should have the good luck to live forty years, you may stand a chance of overtaking your face.”

2 The following humourous story was often told by Mr. Lytton. The three masters, Dr. Parr, Mr. Wadeson, and Mr. Roderick, who participated largely in Dr. Sumner’s admiration of Tom Jones, determined to pay a visit one holyday to the house, the Hercules Pillars in Piccadilly, in which the author of that amusing work used to spend his convivial evenings. Thither,

personal appearance really contained a sufficient answer to all that was of any value in the objection, which had been opposed to his fair and reasonable claims.

The surprise and the concern of the disappointed candidate, and the grief and astonishment of his friends, were great. As, however, nothing was alleged against him but the single circumstance of his youth, he retired from the contest, defeated, but not dishonoured. His office of head assistant, with a feeling of what was due to himself, he immediately resigned. The keen regret of the younger members of the school for the loss of a favourite tutor, may be applauded; though the manner in which it was expressed, by acts of tumult and insubordination, must be condemned. These disturbances, at one time, assumed a serious aspect; and, with a total disregard to truth or probability, Dr. Parr was accused of exciting or fomenting them. But though the charge was vehemently urged in the public papers of the day, it soon appeared that it was entirely groundless.

accordingly they went; and there they partook of a jovial supper, and drank many a bumper to the great classical novelist. At length, the hour growing late, the bell was rung for the chambermaid, who soon appeared, and, as it was winter, with a pan of coals. Mr. Wadeson, as being the oldest person, naturally arose to follow her. “No! Sir,” said she, curtseying respectfully, and casting a side glance towards the gentleman in the large wig—“I hope I know my manners better than that, too; being taught to respect age, I must attend that gentleman first.” A loud laugh followed; and the gentleman in the great wig availing himself of the precedence thus granted, retired first to his dormitory.

Dr. Parr defended himself with indignant spirit, and with complete success; and instead of being the author or abettor, he was considered by all impartial persons as the great sufferer of wrong: no less in the issue of the election itself, than in the false and injurious representations of the consequences which followed at Harrow School. His pupil, Mr. Maurice, beyond all doubt, spoke the general sentiment of the times, when he called the rejection of claims so substantial, and the disappointment of hopes so reasonable, “an act of glaring injustice.”1

“It is difficult to describe,” says another of his pupils, “the anguish of his honest and ingenuous mind, when he was thus forcibly driven from the place in which he had drawn his first breath—in which he had received his earliest education—in which he had formed the most endearing connexions, and in which he had faithfully discharged the most important duties.”2 But if severely disappointed, he was not greatly discouraged; and from momentary depression of spirits, he was soon aroused and animated to greater exertions. Some plan for his future subsistence became necessary; and, after no long deliberation, the following was adopted.

His connexion with Harrow School being dissolved, he determined, by the advice of his friends, to embark in the serious and somewhat hazardous project of forming a similar establishment at the neighbouring village of Stanmore. A

1 Maurice’s Mem. part I. p. 60. 2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

suitable house was speedily procured, the necessary furniture was bought, and all the previous arrangements were completed, when he found himself opposed by an obstacle which he had little expected. In consequence of the reports so industriously circulated respecting the late disturbances at Harrow, his application to the bishop for a license was somewhat rudely and reproachfully rejected. Within a little time, however, the clouds which had obscured his reputation passed away: full justice was done to the rectitude of his conduct; the license was granted; and on the 14th of Oct. 1771, Stanmore School was opened.

At the head of the new establishment it was desirable that a female superintendent should be placed; and whether that circumstance prompted the resolution of marrying, as some have said, or merely hastened it, as others with more probability have thought, it is certain that early in the succeeding month of November, Dr. Parr was united in marriage to Jane, only child of Zachariah Marsingale of Carleton in Yorkshire, and niece of Thomas Mauleverer of Ancliffe, in the same county, Esq., descended from a very ancient and respectable family. It was, indeed, a match of convenience, rather than of love; and though there was mutual esteem, which may sometimes, in a good degree, supply the place of mutual affection; yet, in the present case, from great unsuitableness of temper, the union was never the source of much connubial felicity.

From Harrow, Dr. Parr was followed to Stanmore by so large a number as forty of his former scholars; “and these,” says Mr. Maurice, “were in general the flower of the school in the zenith of its glory.” Thus he had the satisfaction to receive, in the attachment of so many of his most distinguished pupils, and still more in the approbation and support of their friends, a testimony to his merits, which might well console him under the disappointment which he had sustained, and amidst the calumnies by which his character had been assailed and his peace annoyed.

Nor was this all. Another gratifying proof was on this occasion exhibited, of the sympathy which unmerited suffering is almost sure to excite; and of the esteem and admiration which high desert seldom fails to draw forth, and to attach with ardent devotion to itself. The second assistant, under the late Dr. Sumner, was the Rev. David Roderick, who, on the resignation of Dr. Parr, was earnestly solicited by the governors to remain at Harrow, and to fill up the vacant place of head assistant under the new master. But from concern or indignation at the wrong which had been done in defeating claims so just as those of the rejected candidate, he resisted all their entreaties; and announced his determination to follow the fortunes of his friend, and to support by his name and his services the intended establishment at Stanmore. The credit of an honourable name, tendered in a manner so encouraging to Dr. Parr, was joyfully accepted by him; and the services of an instructor of tried fidelity and known ability were received with respectful and grateful regard, by all those for whose benefit they were unceas-ingly exerted. Mr. Roderick is a man of very considerable powers of mind, of much acquired knowledge, and of great moral worth; and it has always been a subject of regret to his numerous friends and pupils,1 that none of the preferments of the church have ever been bestowed upon him, who contributed to rear so many of its firmest supporters, and some of its brightest ornaments. But it is a fact too notorious not to be confessed, and too injurious to the best interests of the country not to be deplored, that far other considerations than those of desert bear sway in the distribution of ecclesiastical honours and rewards.

The venerable scholar and divine just named is still living; and if these pages should reach him in his rural retirement, it is hoped that he will accept the tribute of the few lines here traced, which the writer is well assured express, though feebly, the sense entertained of his merits by the late illustrious associate of his labours as a preceptor, and by all those to whom in that character he was known. Of these, alas! the greater part are no longer among the living: but some still survive to remember him, as they ever must, with esteem and gratitude.

Since the above sentences were penned, it is pleasing to the writer to be enabled to subjoin the testimony of Dr. Parr, in his own words, to the excellencies of “his old and his trusty friend,” as left on record, amongst his most deliberate and matured thoughts on men and things, introduced

1 Maurice’s Memoirs, part 1. p. 82.

with so much solemn and striking effect into his “Last Will.” After having bequeathed a small legacy and a mourning-ring to the Rev. David Roderick, he adds, “whose sound understanding, whose various and deep learning, whose fidelity as a friend, and whose uprightness and piety as a Christian, have for the space of fifty years endeared his very name to my soul.”—It is only to the retiring and unassuming worth on which these generous praises are bestowed, touched though they are with the warm glow of partial friendship, that they can appear—as from all his information the present writer is confident—more than truth would dictate, and justice approve.1

Stanmore School opened under favourable auspices. The whole number of pupils, almost immediately obtained, fell little short of sixty: and a general sentiment of concern for the disappointment which Dr. Parr had suffered at Harrow, concurred, with a high opinion of his qualifications, to produce through a large circle many ardent

1 In a letter addressed to the writer of these pages, Mr. Roderick considers the terms in which Dr. Parr speaks of him as far above all his just claims. But must we admit diffidence in receiving, to disprove merit in deserving, praise? Or might we not allow him, who has thus solemnly recorded his grateful and affectionate esteem amongst so many other similar records, to say, with his own admired Isocrates—Δίκαιον ειναι νομίδων πάντας μέν περι πολλούς ποιεισθαι τούς έμαντώ πεπλεσιακύτας καί γεγενημένους άξίους ήμων΄ ούχ ηκιστα δέ τουτον, καί δια τήν ευνοιαν τήν είς ήμας, καί δια τήν άλλήν έπιείκειαν. μαλίστα μέν ουν έβουλόμην αν αύτόν συσταθηναι δί ήμων. Isocr. Epis. ad Philippum.

Men should not so far fear their own deservings, As to the low dishonouring of themselves. Shaks. wishes for his success, and many strenuous endeavours to promote it.1 Stimulated not only by the love of learning and the sense of duty, but also by the spirit of honourable rivalship with the school he had just left, the exertions of the tutor were great and meritorious; and the progress of the pupils was, in some due proportion, great and conspicuous. Many of these were young men of considerable talents, skilfully and vigorously cultivated, as may well be supposed, by those studies over which a Sumner presided, and in which a Parr assisted; and now resuming the same studies partly under the same direction, they were carried forward in a course of instruction, admirably adapted to complete the education of the school, preparatory to the higher pursuits of the college. Their ardour for literary improvement, placed as they were in circumstances of peculiar excitement, would naturally borrow some of its activity and its energy from fond attachment to the tutor, and zeal for the honour of his name.

1 Among his most zealous supporters at this time, were the Earl of Dartmouth, Mr. Sumner, father of the late member for Surry, and the celebrated Dr. Askew.

CHAPTER VII. A. D. 1771-1776. Plan of studies in Stanmore School—The Greek language—importance of it—The Greek authors read—Manner of explaining them—Greek versification—Writing Greek—Greek plays acted—The Latin language—Authors read—Some defects in the public schools noticed—Exercises of the memory—Study of English—Composition.

Instead of offering, as he could have wished, a full and detailed account of the system of education adopted in Stanmore School, the writer is obliged to content himself with tracing its mere outlines, which, however, he trusts, will be found sufficient to convey some just idea of it to his readers.1 On a subject so important as education, in its higher branches, the opinions of a man so eminently distinguished as Dr. Parr, for his learning, his sagacity, and his judgment, confirmed, as they after-

1 The writer is most happy in being able to state, that the account contained in this and the following chapter, has been submitted to the perusal and the correction of one of the few surviving Stanmore scholars, Dr. Monro, an eminent physician, formerly of London, now of Bushey, near Watford, who is pleased to express his general opinion in the following words: “I am afraid I have done very little in contributing useful information respecting the subject of your inquiries. But, indeed, upon reading over your outline of the general plan of education, it seems to me as nearly the truth as it can be.” The few, but valuable, communications with which Dr. Monro has favoured the writer, will be found inserted in some of the following pages.

wards were, by his long experience, may reasonably excite curiosity, and may fairly demand attention.

Superintended as it was by one of the first Grecians of the age, it might easily be supposed that in Stanmore School the study of Greek would form a leading object. Indeed, in every system of learned and liberal education, the study of that language is justly entitled to hold the first and principal place; and though the study itself must be confined chiefly to the literary and the superior orders of society, yet the beneficial influence of it is extended indirectly from them to all the more enlightened classes of the community. In the works of the ancient Greeks, every one knows, are presented the finest and most perfect models of composition in all its various kinds, historical, philosophical, rhetorical, and poetical. As long, therefore, as these works are known and read, and admired by the scholars and the writers of the age; so long the principles of pure and correct taste, and of sound critical judgment, cannot fail to be diffused extensively, and established permanently.

But it is not for the excellencies of composition alone that the literary productions of Greece have obtained, through so many successive ages, universal admiration. In the same writings, the noblest and most generous sentiments of conjugal, parental, filial, social affection, and the most elevated maxims of virtuous, dignified, public-spirited conduct are inculcated, with all the force of which argument is capable, and all the eloquence to which language can aspire. The wise precepts of philosophy, delivered in strains not unworthy to be listened to even by a disciple of the Christian school, are also recommended by the most beautiful and engaging examples which the history of a high-minded people could present, or which the powerful imagination of lofty genius could create. It is surely impossible that such works can be read without producing the happiest effects upon the minds, the manners, and the morals of those who read them; and it may be fairly said that, from these persons, the same happy effects are communicated in no inconsiderable degree to all who peruse their writings, or participate in any way, of their knowledge and of their improvement.

If, besides, we take into the account the two sacred volumes, the one containing the original of the Christian, and the other a faithful though not literal translation of the Jewish Scriptures, it is evident that the interests of religion are closely connected with the knowledge of the language in which those important volumes are written. The study of Greek is, therefore, absolutely necessary to form the learned and accomplished divine; and it must be added, that, besides the general advantage of high cultivation of mind, the same study offers some peculiar advantages, which it were easy to point out, important in no small degree to those intended for the superior, or even the subordinate stations, in the two remaining professions of law and medicine.1 These few remarks contain

1 See Knox on Liberal Education, Vol. i. p. 104. 108.—“He was a sound scholar, an elegant writer, and a truly Christian divine. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 581.

the substance of many conversations which Dr. Parr has held, with the writer and with others, when expatiating, as he often did with delight, upon the utility and importance of his own favourite language.

Among the Grecian writers, the highest place was assigned, in Stanmore School, to the orators and poets, and especially to the dramatic poets. The teaching of the Greek plays, Dr. Parr always called “the most difficult and the most honourable of school business:” and there were certain seasons peculiarly and almost exclusively devoted to it. “For three or four weeks,” says Dr. Monro,1 “before the usual holydays, Dr. Parr was accustomed to make the boys of the upper school read the Greek plays for seven or eight hours together; and he sometimes kept them so employed till near eleven o’clock at night.” The orators, too, obtained an almost equal share of close and careful attention.

On these subjects, always so delightful to the young and ardent mind, nothing could be more able and efficient than the manner in which the learned preceptor delivered his instructions. Be-

1 The writer has already acknowledged his great obligation to Dr. Monro, for his valuable communications on the subject of these memoirs. It is of this eminent physician that Dr. Parr expresses his high opinion in his sermon, preached on a great public occasion in the metropolis. “Pardon me, my hearers, if, speaking on this subject, I give vent to my feelings, and pay a just tribute of praise to the learning, wisdom, integrity, and humanity of that excellent person, who was once my scholar, and is now the physician of your Hospital for the Insane.” Spital Serm. p. 17.

sides the Grecian and Roman authorities’ brought in illustration, he was accustomed to adduce passages from modern writers, principally English, and to point out, in his own masterly way, their characteristic or comparative excellencies. So eloquent and impressive were these recitations, and the remarks which accompanied them, that “it was hardly possible,” says Mr. Maurice, “even for the most stupid boy not to be struck and aroused.”—“I have known,” continues he, “youth of sensibility affected even to tears; and I believe none who heard them ever forgot them.”1 On these occasions, the notes which Dr. Parr delivered, whether explanatory or illustrative, “were written down,” says Dr. Monro,2 “by the pupils, either at the time, or from recollection afterwards.”—“I had a large collection of them,” he adds, “which I gave to Mr. Beloe many years ago.”

The Rev. William Beloe, the person just mentioned, was another of Dr. Parr’s pupils, who, though unfavourable in his general representation of his early friend and tutor, has rendered due homage to many of his great qualities, and who thus speaks: “His taste was exquisite, acute, accurate,

1 “Parr’s memory,” says one of his pupils, “from nature and from application was very capacious. In reading a Greek or Latin author, a stream of illustration issued from him. When we were up at Virgil with him, he thundered out, ore rotundo, all the passages which the poet had borrowed, and whilst he borrowed, adorned, from Homer and Apollonius the Herodian.”—Parriana. New Month. Mag. Nov. 1826.

2 Mem. part 1. p. 64.

3 In his written communications to the writer.

elegant: and this he seemed to communicate and inspire. It was really delightful to hear him read; and I do not think that this accomplishment, which is never sufficiently cultivated, can possibly be carried to a higher degree of perfection than it was by him.”—“He possessed also,” continues Mr. Beloe, “extraordinary powers of eloquence; and his easy flow of words could only be equalled by his nervous, appropriate, and happy disposition of them.”

The gratefulness of this praise is, however, lessened by the disparaging words which follow: “He was proud of this talent; and somewhat ostentatious in the display of it.” But this little instance of spite—for such it is, though disguised under the apparent moderation and the acknowledged truth, in some degree, of the reflection—is nothing in comparison with the many unjust and shameless aspersions aimed at Dr. Parr’s character, scattered about in various parts of the work which formed his last literary labour.1 Let it, however, be known to the reader, that, on account of some real or supposed grievance in early schoolboy days, from that time to the latest moment of his life, Mr. Beloe secretly cherished strong feelings of resentment against one whose friendship he openly courted; and whose favours, on many important occasions, he eagerly solicited and accepted. On this unpleasing subject, a word or two, and only a word or two, will be said by the writer hereafter. At present a more agreeable theme occupies his thoughts and his pen.

1 Beloe’s Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 24.

With the study of the orators and the tragic and other poets, was united that of the historians and the philosophers of Greece. In perusing the former, the aids of chronological and geographical science were diligently employed, so far as necessary to illustrate the more important facts; and, in studying the latter, the interest of the young scholar was greatly increased, and his understanding greatly assisted, by an elaborate comparison instituted between the different systems taught in the different schools of Greece; accompanied with a clear and luminous exposition of the theories adopted by the more enlightened philosophers of modern times.1

Much importance was attached by the learned preceptor to the study of Greek versification, in which he was himself eminently skilled; and earnest and persevering were his efforts to teach its laws and to explain its intricacies to his pupils. But the desired success was not in all, perhaps not in many cases obtained. So extreme was sometimes the distaste for this difficult study, that it was not to be overcome; and even some of Dr. Parr’s most intelligent pupils have complained that too much of their time was consumed “in learning to unravel the complicated perplexities of Greek metre; which, after all, they very imperfectly understood.”2

But with far greater and more general success,

1 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 104.

2 Beloe’s Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 19. Maurice’s Mem. part I. p. 57. 64.

the practice of Greek composition, both in prose and verse, was introduced and enforced. It is a practice which has prevailed of late years more than formerly, in most of our private as well as public seminaries; and in the prosecution of a learned education, no employment can be more reasonable or beneficial. For though composition in Greek is not so often called for as in Latin, by the occasions which arise even among men of letters, yet, as a powerful instrument for acquiring or perfecting the knowledge of Greek itself, it cannot be too strongly recommended. No language can be well understood which is not written as well as read; and if that of Greece be important at all, it surely becomes of consequence that the most effectual means of acquiring it should be adopted and pursued. No professor of Latin would think of teaching that language without the aid of composition, at least in the form of what are called exercises; and why the same advantage should be denied to the professor of Greek, it is not easy to say.

As a proof of the high state of Grecian literature in Stanmore School, it deserves to be related that one of the most admired tragedies of Sophocles, the Œdipus Tyrannus, was acted with applause before a large body of the assembled literati; among whom were, Sir William Jones, Mr. Bennet Langton, Mr. Lytton, and many other of the most distinguished scholars. The choruses were omitted; but the dialogues were recited by the several performers with a propriety, a fluency, and a force, which reflected equal honour on the preceptor and the pupils. The scenes were furnished by Mr. Foote, and the dresses by Mr. Garrick.1 Dr. Monro mentions, that he himself was one of the deputation sent, on that occasion, to Mr. Garrick; that he and his associates found him at Drury Lane, engaged in rehearsing the part of Don Felix, in the comedy of “The Wonder;” and that they were received by him with the greatest kindness and attention. Some articles of Grecian costume were prepared, under the direction of the learned master, by his own family. The Œdipus was acted in 1775; and it was followed, the next year, by the Trachinians of the same tragedian. To these two representations belong the merit of being the first attempts of the kind in England.

But, in Ireland, long before this time, a Greek play, it appears, had been acted by the pupils of that profound scholar and eminent schoolmaster, Dr. Sheridan; distinguished as the friend of the celebrated Dr. Swift; and still more so as the grandfather of the no less celebrated Richard Brinsley Sheridan. It was in conversation with Sir William Jones, on the subject of that extraordinary representation, that the idea of a similar attempt first suggested itself to Dr. Parr,2 who was also aware, that the plan, as an excellent method for the improvement of young scholars, is

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809, Maurice’s Mem. part I. p. 64.

2 See his letter to Mr. Moore given in the “Life of Sheridan,” vol. i. p. 9.

recommended by so great an authority as Milton.1 After due deliberation, supported by the opinion of his illustrious friend, in defiance of all the ridicule or reproach which so novel or bold an attempt might possibly provoke, the plan was finally approved and adopted. Some invidious reflections were in fact thrown out upon the occasion, and Dr. Parr was induced to write some Greek Iambics, for the purpose of vindicating himself from the charge of affectation or singularity.2

He was so well satisfied, indeed, with the result of his own experiment, that he fully intended, if he had continued longer at Stanmore, to establish in his school the annual custom of representing a Greek play. He often spoke with pleasure of the good effect which it produced; and as often expressed a wish that his example had been followed in other seminaries. By the vigorous exertion of mind called forth in accomplishing so high and arduous a task, he found that his pupils more easily conquered the difficulties of which young scholars usually complain when they first engage in reading and investigating the ancient tragic wri-

1 “When all these employments are well conquered, then will the choice histories, heroic poems, and Attic tragedies, of stateliest and most regal argument, with all the famous political orations, offer themselves; which, if they were some of them got by memory, and solemnly pronounced with right accent and grace, as might be taught, would endue them with the spirit and vigour of Demosthenes or Cicero, Euripides or Sophocles.” A small Tractate on Education.

2 In his letter to Mr. Moore before referred to, Dr. Parr regrets that these are lost. By the diligent inquiries of his executors however they have since been found.

ters. An important object is gained, as he observed, by compelling that exact attention to Greek phraseology and Greek metre, which becomes so urgently necessary, in preparing for the public recitation of a Greek author. The long, previous, careful study of the drama itself, without which the youthful performer could not hope to appear with honour, or to escape from shame, would of course introduce into his mind clear and correct views of its plan, its incidents, and its characters; whilst the actual representation, aided by the influence of dress, scenery, and company, could not fail to excite a livelier perception, and to produce a deeper impression of all those excellencies, which so eminently belong to the, three great tragedians of ancient times, and most of all to Sophocles. The memory, too, must be in a high degree improved, by that severe exercise of it which would on such occasions be demanded.

But though the literature of Greece took the lead, especially among the higher classes of Stanmore School; yet, at the same time, that of its great and successful imitators, the Romans, received all the attention to which it is so justly entitled. Pre-eminent above the rest, in the judgment of Dr. Parr, were the writings of the all-accomplished Cicero; of whom it has been said, that “for arts and eloquence he has eclipsed the fame of Greece,” and that “by explaining all the parts of its philosophy to the Romans, in their own language, he superseded in some measure the use of the Greek language and the Greek lectures at Rome.”1 Large

1 Middleton’s Life of Cicero, vol. i. Pref. p. 23.

selections, therefore, from his works, and other selections, more or less extensive, from the works of the most distinguished Latin poets and historians, were constantly read in the school; and the numerous instances of beauty or sublimity in the style or sentiments, as they occurred, were noticed and pointed out, with that keenness of perception, that accuracy of taste, and that ardour of feeling, which the learned teacher, in so high a degree, possessed.1

In remarking upon the plans pursued in some of our celebrated public seminaries, one considerable defect, which Dr. Parr often mentioned, was, that sufficient portions of Latin prose, especially in Cicero and Cæsar, were not read; and another, that sufficient time was not devoted to the composition of prose in that language. These defects in the systems of other schools, no doubt, he was careful to remedy in his own; whilst he gladly adopted from them whatever he found worthy of approbation. Indeed, it would be great injustice not to add, that if he sometimes noticed errors, where errors he thought he saw, at the same time, he ever acknowledged, with generous pleasure, the merits of other teachers; and commended, with no niggardly praise, the well-devised plans of other schools.

Dr. Parr was a strenuous advocate for the practice of committing to memory large portions of Greek and Latin verses; and applauded, in this as well as in other respects, the plan of Winchester School, where that practice has been long

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

established, and carried to a great extent. It was his opinion, that by repeating passages, though not previously understood, a boy is incited by his own curiosity to explore, and is generally enabled by his own efforts to discover their meaning: that what is thus learnt by voluntary exertion, is learnt with more effect, and fixed with deeper impression on the memory; and that, by these means, the youthful mind gradually accumulates, in rich variety and abundance, stores of pleasing imagery, and sublime or beautiful expression.1

Alluding to these exercises of the memory, Dr. Monro mentions2 as an instance, that when he was first placed in the fifth form, he was ordered to get by heart as a holyday task—and no slight task!—the third Olynthiac of Demosthenes—which he accomplished. He mentions further, as an established regulation of the school, that the first business of the morning appointed for the upper classes, was a repetition of the lesson said the evening before; and this entirely from memory—which must have often required an exertion of its powers equal to their full extent. In some cases, the repetition-lesson was fairly and faithfully performed; but in many, he confesses, the task was accomplished by the aid of sly glances on the open book, which the master held in his hands. Not unfrequently the artifice remained undiscovered; but sometimes, by the sudden closing of the book, it was detected, and then—woe to the delinquent!

1 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

2 In his written communications to the writer.

Devoted to the study of the noble languages of antiquity, most of our great seminaries in England were formerly exposed to the just reproach of neglecting, and even despising, the language and the literature of their own country. For some considerable time, indeed, after the revival of letters, all the genius and taste and erudition which then existed, were to be found only in the volumes of the ancients; and most of the valuable works which subsequently appeared, were composed not in the vernacular language, but in the Latin—the universal language, as it was long regarded, of learning. Under such circumstances, it is easy to account for, and in some measure to excuse, the contempt, which the scholars of that age usually poured upon their native tongue, and the entire exclusion of it from the prevailing system of education.

But when, in process of time, the use of Latin gave way to that of the living language of the country, even in the works of the learned, and when English literature itself became, from the number and the excellence of its writers, a just and important object of attention; still to contend, under these altered circumstances, that the study of English forms no proper or necessary part of the education of Englishmen, is surely an absurdity which may well excite surprise. Yet so slow often is the progress of the plainest truths, and so strong the force of the grossest prejudices, that some ages elapsed before even that absurdity was generally perceived and acknowledged.

Among the first to discover, and to hold forth to public view, the strange error of excluding the ver-nacular language from the systems of public or private education, was the very learned prelate, Bishop Lowth; who not only opposed to it the strength of his reasoning and the weight of his authority, but also provided for it the practical means of correction, by publishing his excellent “Introduction to English Grammar,” which first appeared in 1765. This is, indeed, an admirable work; possessing the rare merit of being at once philosophical and popular: a book, which the accomplished scholar peruses and admires, and which the youthful learner reads and understands. Almost, it may be said, from the date of that publication, and greatly in consequence of it, the study of the English language has assumed the place, to which it is entitled in every wise and well-considered plan of English education.

It might easily be supposed that Dr. Parr, scarcely less eminent as an English scholar and an English writer than as a man of classical learning, would not be slow to approve and to adopt so necessary and so important an amendment in the present system of education; and accordingly, it appears that much attention was devoted in Stanmore School to the cultivation of the English language, by the study of its grammar and the perusal of its best writers, and especially by the frequent composition of English themes. For these last, questions proposed or approved by the tutor, were given on topics principally of history, either ancient or modern; of ethics, and sometimes even of theology; and before he dismissed the young writers to their task, in the course of an address of some length, in which all his own wonderful powers of speaking were displayed, he placed before them, in clear view and in full detail, the whole subject, on which they were required to think and to write.

“When he gave the upper boys a subject for a theme,” says Mr. Beloe,1 “he would descant upon the subject, in all its ramifications, for the best part of an hour, in a most amusing as well as instructive manner.”—“Even his common discourse,” says Dr. Monro, “always struck my youthful mind as possessing true and genuine eloquence; but when he gave out a thesis for an essay to his pupils, and expatiated upon it for their direction and assistance—in explaining the clear and comprehensive views which he took of every subject—his eloquence was indeed powerful and impressive.” Flowing in a rapid stream, his language, as Dr. Monro describes it, was rich, various, copious, always energetic, and often splendid; bearing along with it, like a golden tide, the delighted and enraptured minds of his youthful audience. He was so exact in the choice, so correct in the application of his words; his sentences were so nicely constructed and highly polished, that no written composition could appear more finished. “In short, on such occasions,” says Dr. Monro, “he seemed to be a perfect master of oratory.”

The exercises, for which the youths of the upper classes were thus admirably prepared, usually occupied some of the leisure hours of every day, and especially of holydays; and the obligation to per-

1 Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 24.

form them was rigorously enforced.1 In the case of the younger boys written translations might sometimes be prescribed, but original composition was not required. For no one ever exposed and ridiculed more pointedly than Dr. Parr, the absurdity of demanding invention from those, by whom the materials for invention could not as yet have been collected.2

In this manner, by the exertions of the tutor and the spirit of emulation in the pupils, a taste for English composition was excited with great effect, especially among the higher classes; and pleasing specimens of poetry, as well as prose, were produced, some of which have been published.3 It was no little encouragement to the lovers of English poetry—shrinking back as they often did from the dry mechanism of Greek and Latin versification—to be released, as they occasionally were, from the task of composing hexameters and pentameters, on condition of producing a good copy of English verses. But the attempt was hazardous; because failure, in any considerable degree, was always followed by disgrace and punishment—punishment from the master, and, what to the generous mind is still harder to bear, disgrace among the scholars.4

1 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 105.

2 Europ. Mag. Aug. 1809.

3 Among others may be mentioned, “The School-boy,” a poem by Mr. Maurice, which was praised even by Dr. Johnson; and “Translations from the Chorusses and Speeches of the Greek Tragedians,” by the same.

4 Beloe’s Sexag. vol. i. p. 21. Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 57. and 65.

CHAPTER VIII. A.D. 1771—1776. Discipline of Stanmore School—Literary associations of the upper classes—Dr. Parr’s love of youth—His affection for his own pupils—His kindness of manner towards them—His private instructions and admonitions—His correspondence with his pupils—His encouragement of all the active and healthful sports of youth—their importance in the opinion of the ancients.

As the higher classes of Stanmore consisted of youths of more advanced age and more matured intellect, they were exempted to a certain extent, by special privilege, from the restraints properly imposed upon others. They had therefore, with free permission, their morning breakfast-parties, and their evening conversation-parties; and sometimes, too, though without the knowledge of the master—which seems, it must be owned, to imply some want of due vigilance on his part—they had their more convivial meetings, which they called “Attic symposia.” Yet, even on these occasions, we are assured by Mr. Maurice,1 one of their number, that “no intemperance, no indecorum, no rude or riotous mirth, ever disgraced the scholars of philosophy and of Parr!” Though highly social, these meetings, he tells us, were in their essential character literary. To stimulate to mental exertion by exciting rational curiosity, and encouraging free inquiry, was the object, as he states,

1 Mem. part 1. p. 63.

proposed and pursued by “the accomplished young men” with whom, in consequence of the tutor’s kind recommendation, though much their inferior in years and in knowledge, he was permitted to associate.

Of course the history, the oratory, and the poetry of Greece and Rome, would often afford to them interesting topics of debate; but more usually their choice was fixed, on subjects of English history and English literature. Sometimes, with all the ardour of youthful patriotism, they reviewed the great events, favourable to the progress of civilisation and the arts and sciences among a people, once slightingly noticed as “toto divisos orbe Britannos,”1 or contemptuously marked as “Britannos hospitibus feros;”2 and, especially, they celebrated in their harangues the great events, which contributed to the attainment or the establishment of the civil rights and liberties, so essentially connected with the true glory and prosperity of every country. The fine Alcaic fragment in praise of Harmodius and Aristogiton, the deliverers of Greece, was perpetually recited by them in the original language, and often translated into their own; and the same detestation, in which they held a Grecian or a Persian tyrant, they easily transferred to the tyrants of England. Sometimes, again, the merits of our most distinguished writers were discussed; and Pope, Dryden and Swift, Addison and Johnson, Hume and Robertson, had each his respective partizans. The learned, the

1 Virgil. 2 Horace.

instructive, the elegant volumes of Gibbon had not then made their appearance; or, no doubt, they would have received from the juvenile critics their full tribute of applause.

“Young men of that age,” says Mr. Maurice,1 “will dare to think for themselves; and therefore it cannot excite wonder, if, among us, even Bolingbroke and Akenside had their admirers and their advocates.” But why is the philosophical poet placed in the same class with the philosophical statesman? The youthful censors acted surely under an erroneous impression, which many, indeed, much older than themselves, at that time received—probably from the unjust representations of the great literary tyrant of his age. Warburton had taken offence at some expressions in Akenside’s “Pleasures of Imagination,” and therefore, in remarking upon them, without the smallest hesitation, he ranks the author among “the freethinkers,” in defiance of the satisfactory evidence, which was immediately produced from his writings, of his reverential regard, not only for natural, but also for revealed religion. The same injustice seems to have been done to Dr. Middleton, in the Stanmore school; for even the authority of its great master2 could never induce, at least, the pre-

1 Mem. part l. p. 63.

2 “May not the Christian say of Middleton what Callixtus (a Lutheran divine) shrewdly said of Erasmus? Qui noster profecto non fuit, neque esse vel audiri unquam voluit. S. P.”—Bibl.Parr. p. 74. “He considered Dr. Conyers Middleton as a concealed infidel.” Butler’s Let. to Barker; Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 249. See also, “Recollections of Dr. Parr, by a Pupil,” New Month. Mag. Aug. 1826.

sent writer to admit that the name of this celebrated divine ought to be blotted out of the list of sincere believers in Christianity, notwithstanding his rejection of much, which has been commonly received as part of it.

The literary discussions of his pupils were always encouraged by the approbation, if not sometimes sanctioned by the presence of the learned superintendent, himself, who so well knew how, on such occasions, to bend from his dignity, without degrading it, and to invite familiarity without losing his claim to respect. It is mentioned by Mr. Maurice, that Dr. Parr was accustomed to give to his senior pupils frequent invitations to join his own social literary parties. “When engaged in our lessons,” says another of his pupils, Mr. Hargrave, “he assumed a magisterial gravity of manner; but, at other times, he conversed with us as friends, and frequently entertained us with the most amusing anecdotes.”1

Through life, indeed, it was ever gratifying to him, to mingle in the society of ingenuous and intelligent young men, and to impart to them useful instruction or interesting information, in the course of unrestrained conversation. And here, the writer, himself an instructor of youth, cannot suppress the recollection, forcing itself at this moment on his mind, of the high pleasure with which four of the elder of his pupils invited, some few years ago, to dine with Dr. Parr at Hatton, returned home, conveyed in his carriage, purposely ordered out

1 New Month. Mag. Aug. 1826.

for their accommodation—and the proud delight they felt in speaking of the kindness and condescension, with which they had been entertained by their indulgent host, and of the sportive wit and gay humour, the striking observations and amusing tales, by which, during their whole visit, they had been enlivened and almost enraptured. “Aye! were they delighted?” exclaimed Dr. Parr, with his usual ardour, when told of it, a few days afterwards; “and so was I too!” “Yes, indeed,” added he, speaking fervidly, “scarcely less was the pleasure received, than the pleasure bestowed.” He thought, and he felt with his own favourite Cicero, “Quid enim jucundius senectute stipatâ studiis juventutis?”1

On another occasion, though of much earlier date, returning home from Nottingham election, where he had been to give his vote in favour of that highly-distinguished lawyer, and truly excellent patriot, Mr. Denman, and stopping on his way at Leam, the place of the writer’s residence, he invited himself to dinner, absolutely insisting, however, on the condition that no separate table, nor second course should be provided for him. “No, no!” said he, “I shall dine with the boys, and fare alike with them.”

Dinner, on his own terms, being announced, almost as soon as he was seated in the midst of the youthful company, he began to take some kind notice of each, as each caught his eye. “Where do you come from?” was the first question addressed

1 De Senectute.

to every one; and the answer returned was sure to suggest some further inquiry. To one who came from Banbury, he talked of the battle of Edge Hill; and to another, who came from Market Bosworth, of that “bloody strife,” by which one king lost, and another gained, a crown. To a third, who said he came from Birmingham, “I suppose,” replied he, “you mean Brom-wych-am. Perhaps,” continued he, “you do not know the derivation, or signification of the word?—but I do.” And then he explained the first syllable to mean the name of a small tree, to which the neighbouring soil is favourable; the second, a steep declivity, such as that near the “high street,” the site of the original town; and the third, a home or dwelling-place; i. e. a town on a hill abounding with broom.

Guy’s Cliff being mentioned, he adverted to the tragic story of Gaveston, favourite of Edward II., who was beheaded on the summit of a hill near that place. Passing from the second Guy, Earl of Warwick, at whose instigation chiefly that dreadful deed was done, to the first and the most renowned Guy, and talking over the wondrous tale of his valiant deeds, Dr. Parr said that he was very learned in the old legends, and took great delight in reading the history of “Jack, the Giant-killer,” “Tom Thumb,” “Guy, and his wild boar and dun cow,” and all the rest of them.1

1 “Seven Champions of Christendom (the famous history of the). This very best edition was given me by the learned Dr. Anthony Askew, because it was a favourite book with me when a

One boy being pointed out to his notice, as the nephew of the celebrated but unfortunate French leader, Brissot, he turned to him a look of mingled curiosity and commiseration, which spoke the thoughts that stirred within him, though he carefully avoided all inquiries that might revive even transient feelings of pain in the youth’s mind. Another boy being mentioned as the grandson of Dr. Doddridge, he called for him, gazed upon him for some moments with evident delight; then taking his hand between his own, whispered a kind of benediction, and, with a benignant smile, and a tone of affectionate fervour, said, “Be a good scholar, and, above all, be a good man;” and, alluding to his grandfather, added, “He was a good man, and a good scholar.” The name of Doddridge led him to speak of other distinguished men among the non-conforming divines, and he spoke of them with expressions of high regard. He said that he had always lived as if there were no distinction of sects; and, in reply to the observation which this called forth, “So much the more to your honour, Doctor,” he exclaimed—“To my honour?—no! but so much the more to my comfort.”

Conversation, on topics so interesting to youthful curiosity, conducted with so much engaging affability of temper and manner, and accompanied with

boy. It is a most valuable, and not a common book.”—“Parismus folio. When I was a boy, at Harrow, Dick —— lent me a publication, in which, among other jocose romances, was the history of Parismus. Sir W. Jones, Dr. Bennet, now Bp. of Cloyne, and I, were delighted with it.” Bibl. Parr. p. 524-523.

so much imposing effect from eminence of fame and character, could not fail of fixing a deep impression on youthful minds. But, perhaps, it may surprise the reader to be told, that the above paragraphs were written, chiefly from the recollection, after a lapse of twenty years, of one who was himself a scholar of Leam school, and among the number present on that occasion. At a subsequent period, it was his good fortune to be introduced to the acquaintance of the great person to whom he then listened with so much reverence and delight; and by whom he was, ever afterwards, honoured with a large share of kind and friendly regard. He is now a physician of rising reputation, settled in the vicinity of the metropolis, and to his communications the writer is indebted for much valuable information, interspersed through these volumes.

The kindly sympathies which adorn our nature, especially when combined with the higher talents which exalt it, are, in every form, a most pleasing object of contemplation; and it well deserves distinct and honourable mention, that, with some sternness of authority as a master, and with much severity of temper as a disciplinarian, Dr. Parr united, in no small degree, the more amiable qualities of a wise and affectionate counsellor and friend.1 According to the report of all his pupils, with only a single exception,2 whilst he was rigorous in exacting their obedience, he, at the same

1 “Cum sibi ad literas monstraret viam, non austeram et inamabilem preceptoris disciplinary sed amici unice fidelis exhibuerit studiura.” Dr. Maltby. See Bibl. Parr. p. 149.

2 Mr. Beloe.

time, endeavoured, and rarely failed in his endeavours, to conciliate their esteem, and to deserve and obtain their confidence. If he was quick to discover and to reprove errors in thinking or acting, he was no less prompt to mark and to applaud whatever was right in sentiment, or right in conduct. If he was harsh in his censures, where censure was due, he was, at least to an equal degree, warm and liberal in his praise, where praise was merited.1 “Of course,” says Dr. Monro,2 “severity, in his public reproofs, was sometimes necessary; and, on such occasions, not only was his language full of the bitterest reproach, but his character of countenance was terrific; and I have not, to this day, forgotten the dread it used to inspire.”3 On the other hand, in his private admonitions—usually the most effectual in restraining the follies and correcting the faults of youth—“he always appeared,” adds Dr. Monro, “very kind, very sincere, very earnest; and his address, highly energetic, was strongly marked with religious fervour.”

It too often happens that young persons, by

1 “True it is, that my conception of men and things is vivid, and that my language about them is seldom feeble. But if my censures are severe, I hope that my commendations are more frequent and not less forcible. I am sure, too, that I have much oftener had reason to repent of my precipitation in praise, than of my injustice in reproach.”—Reply to Combe, p. 20.

2 In his written communication to the author.

3 Mr. Beloe speaks also, “of his terror-striking looks that were irresistible.” Sex. vol. i. p. 23.

some rash and wrongful act, involve themselves in difficulty or danger; and, in such a case, the pupils of Dr. Parr well knew that a better or surer method of relief they could not take, than by flying into the presence of their tutor; revealing to him the whole extent of the evil done, and imploring his advice or interference. Though not unsparing, it might be, of his own reproaches, he would hasten, with friendly speed, to shield them from the reproaches of others, and to save them from all serious consequences of their fault or folly. No youthful indiscretion could prevent him, in any case, from rendering full justice to those good qualities, which, perhaps, a less discerning eye could not discover, and which a less impartial spirit would not acknowledge.1

As he was careful, in every instance, to form a fair estimate of the mental powers and moral merits of those, committed to his charge; so, it may be added, he entertained a secret respect for the judgment which they, in their turn, might be disposed to form of his talents, his principles, and his temper; and when he delivered his opinions, or issued his orders, even though his opinions were respectfully received, and his orders implicitly obeyed, yet he was seldom well satisfied with himself, unless they were, at the same time, generally if not universally approved.

Much has been said of Dr. Parr’s severity in the maintenance of school-discipline; and yet there is reason to think that he was too often remiss in

1 European Mag. Aug. 1809.

noticing, or careless in correcting, even the serious faults of his pupils. In his letter to Mr. Moore, already referred to1—speaking of Sheridan’s love of mischief when at Harrow School—he seems to express more admiration of the spirit and vivacity which accompanied it, than concern for its ill effects on the moral feelings of the boy himself, or for the injuries and vexations suffered from it by others. To tax all the gardens in the neighbourhood for the supply of his apple-loft; and after having planned the robberies, and appropriated the booty, to instigate or compel the younger boys to become the depredators; in all this, there was surely meanness added to injustice, which demanded, instead of good-humoured raillery, the severest animadversion. Who cannot perceive in such early practices, insufficiently restrained, or half-applauded, the first springs of those aberrations, which marked, in too many instances, his future course—throwing a shade over a name, which his grateful country, adorned by his talents and benefited by his services, would fain have consecrated to pure and unsullied glory?

In the “Memoirs of his own Life,”1 Mr. Maurice speaks of what was facetiously called “The Jockey Club,” in Stanmore School, the members of which were accustomed, in the view of an approaching holyday, to hire all “the fleet Rozinantes” of the neighbourhood; and, on the expected day, to scour the whole country round, far and wide, full of fun and frolic, for many hours together; and all

1 Life of Sheridan, vol. i. p. 8. 2 Part 2. p. 3.

this entirely without the permission, though it could hardly be without the knowledge, of a superintendent, whom he describes as “Argus-eyed.” Such lawless wanderings—exposing to moral mischief 1 as well as personal danger—ought surely to have been watched and prevented.2

From the defects—to turn again to the excellencies which distinguished Dr. Parr as a precep-

1 Mr. Maurice confesses the frequency of his own visits to “a certain taberna, near the bottom of Stanmore Hill, ycleped the ‘Queen’s Head;’ where he was initiated into an art, not usually taught in schools, the ars bibendi.” Alas! his case in this instance affords another proof of the powerful influence of early habits, good or bad, upon the conduct of future life.

2 That these irregularities were sufficiently known, but not sufficiently checked, may appear from the following story, which Dr. Parr himself often told. Going out in a carriage one afternoon, he overtook, at some considerable distance from home on the road, a company of his boys, amusing themselves with riding asses. Instantly on the master’s approach, they all dismounted and fled, leaving their coats, which they had taken off, and other articles of dress, behind them in their fright. Coming up, the master alighted, collected the scattered vestments, and putting them in his carriage, returned home. For a day or two, he took no notice of the misdemeanour. But, after having held the delinquents for that time in a state of suspense and alarm, he brought out the collected spoils, and called upon those, to whom they belonged, to come forward and claim them; jocosely observing, that he had, somehow or other, got together a heap of old clothes; that he was not a dealer in such articles; and that it might seem difficult to account for his possession of them. As the claimants severally appeared, covered with confusion at the complete detection of the offence, and fearful of punishment, a significant smile, or a nod, was all the reproof they received.

tor—it is stated by his pupils,1 and deserves to be recorded by his biographers, that, besides delivering his instructions in the public schools, he was watchful of opportunities to interpose his advice in the conduct of their private studies; and that these he was careful to point towards the objects, more immediately connected with their intended situations in future life.2 To the youth, who had in view the study and the practice of medicine, he would recommend such writers as Hippocrates and Celsus, among the ancients, and Boerhaave, Mead, and Cullen, among the moderns. To the attention of the future barrister, civilian, or statesman, he would propose the volumes of Blackstone, Grotius, Puffendorf, and Vattel: and to those whose choice was fixed on the profession of a divine, he would guide, with careful hand, to the pure fountain of sacred truth, in the study of the Greek and Hebrew Scriptures, aided by the critical skill of Lambert Bos, Palairet, and Bowyer.3

The same anxiety which watched over the improvement and the happiness of his pupils, whilst

1 “Parum contentus singularem illam exantlâsse curam, dum in conspectu ejus ageret, intraque limites scholæ moraretur; defuerit nunquam in se adhortando, eam ut servaret in studiis prosequendis diligentiam, eumque in virtute sedulò excolendâ tenorem,” &c. Dr. Maltby.—See Bibl. Parr. p. 149.

2 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 105.

3 “Dr. Parr holds, that Mr. Bowyer is not a rash conjecturer; that he is not a mere retailer of Markland’s, Bentley’s and Wetstein’s guesses; that the last edition of the ‘Conjectures’ is a book which ought to be read by every scholar and every rational Christian.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 4.

under his care, continued even when they were withdrawn from it, and followed them to the universities, and to those stations of public or private life, which it was afterwards their lot to occupy. In the course of an epistolary correspondence of no small extent, he often conveyed his wise advice or his friendly wishes to those, who had minds to appreciate the importance of the one, or hearts to feel the value of the other. “Of these admirable letters,” says Mr. Maurice, “I have myself seen as many as, could they be collected and published, would make a volume, replete with the noblest precepts for the conduct of the rising generation.”1

To the present writer, long engaged in the business of education, next to the mental and moral improvement of his pupils, it has ever been his great delight to witness, and he has ever felt it an important duty to promote, their innocent amusements, and especially their active and healthful sports. It is, therefore, peculiarly pleasing to him to relate, that Dr. Parr was no less friendly to those feats of bodily exertion, and games of manly contention, which so much contribute to give health, agility, and firmness to the body, and, by a reciprocal effect, to impart also spirit, activity, and energy to all the powers and operations of the mind.

On the high days, specially devoted by the youths of Leam to the noble amusement of a cricket-match, in association with many young men of the surrounding neighbourhood, Dr. Parr

1 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 106.

was always delighted to appear among them; animating by his presence, by his good-humour, and his kind manner, amidst the fragrant fumes of his pipe, the sportive field and the sprightly throng; sharing, almost as much as the youngest and the gayest, in all the ardour of the contest, and in the life and joy of the whole scene.1

But there is one kind of personal contest, with respect to which the writer and his illustrious friend could not agree. He was the admirer and the advocate, which the writer is not, of pugilistic encounters among boys; and these he defended by the usual arguments, as the exercise of a manly and useful art, calculated to inspire firmness and fortitude, and to furnish the means of defence against violence and insult. It was amusing to hear him speak of the tacit agreement which subsisted, he said, between himself and his pupils at Stanmore, that all their battles should be fought on a certain spot, of which he commanded a full view from his private room; as thus he could see, without being seen, and enjoy the sport, without endangering the loss of his dignity. It must be owned, indeed, that there is more to be advanced in favour of the practice, considered as the least dangerous mode of terminating real quarrels, especially among the lower classes of the people, than can

1 “My good friend,” said Dr. Parr, on one occasion, to the writer, “I was passing, a day or two ago, by your field, and saw all your boys intently and merrily engaged in their sports. Oh! it was a sight which cheered my heart! Pray tell them from me that the old Doctor longed to throw away his hat and wig, and to run and make one among them!”

possibly be urged for those brutal exhibitions of venal stage-fights, which are unquestionably the disgrace of the age and the country.1

Among the Greeks and Romans, the importance, even at the earliest age, of those bodily exercises, called gymnastics, was highly estimated; and the ancients certainly understood better than the moderns the beneficial influence, mutually exerted by the three great branches of physical, intellectual and moral education. The aid of the first they held to be equally necessary with that of the second and the third, in order to form and to produce the proper model of a man, and to raise up the human creature to his due state of perfection. In their opinion, the highest refinements of the mind, without the exercise and improvement of the body, would leave the business of education only half accomplished; or rather the whole object of it would then be in a great measure defeated, because in that case the mental faculty itself would inevitably sink into a state of inertness or imbecility, either from over-action, and its necessary consequence, exhaustion, or from that strong sympathy which ever subsists between the two great parts of the human system. The mens sana could, therefore, according to their idea, have no possible, or at least no permanent, existence but in corpore sano.

Pliny, in one of his letters, describing the manner in which he was accustomed to unite the handling of the spear and the hunting of the boar with

1 See a sensible paper on this subject, by Dr. Bardsley, in the “Manchester Philosophical Trans.” 2d series, vol. i. p. 164.

the studious pursuits of literature, exclaims, “It is wonderful how much the mind is invigorated by the brisk action, and the vigorous exertion of the body!” Plato, in his “Protagoras,” calls that man a cripple who cultivates the powers of his mind only, leaving those of the body unemployed or unimproved. His disciple Aristotle, in his book on “Politics,” lays it down as a maxim, that, on corporeal vigour, mental energy greatly depends; and he strongly advises that in youthful age the mind should be moderately, but not strenuously, exerted; and that the principal care should then be, to preserve and improve the bodily health and strength. It was by these principles that his own conduct was guided, in the education of his illustrious pupil, the great Macedonian prince; of whom, it is well known, that he was carefully instructed in all the manly and martial exercises of the age; and was no less distinguished for strength and agility of body, than for the high and active powers of his mind.

Let no one, then, who may peruse these pages, think the subject degraded, when it is noticed with due commendation, that, at Stanmore School, all proper attention was given to those arts and amusements, which have for their object the culture of the external senses, and the preservation and improvement of the bodily health and vigour. Besides the elegant accomplishments of music, drawing, and dancing, the youths of Stanmore were accustomed to the hardier exercises of archery, fencing, and military drilling; and were encouraged, during the allotted hours of the day, to engage vigorously in all the usual sports of school-boys, and most of all in the game of cricket.

On the summit of the neighbouring hill, near which the first Duke of Chandos built a mansion, called the “Banqueting House,” there is a spacious area, once used as a bowling-green; and this was the place appropriated to the favourite English sport. Two or three times a week, matches were made, and the skill and strength of the contending parties called forth into full exertion. Around this elevated spot there was, and still is, a plantation of large and lofty firs; and it is amusing to be told that, here, those, who at one time performed the part of the ancient athletæ, would at other times assemble as juvenile philosophers; holding disputations on questions of science and literature, with all the solemn gravity of their venerable ancestors, the disciples of Plato and Aristotle, reposing in the groves of Academus, or walking amidst the deep shades of the Lyceum.1 If the reflecting reader should smile when he peruses these paragraphs, it will not be with the smile of derision or of contempt.

Of the scholars of Stanmore School, there were many, who afterwards appeared with honourable distinction, some more and others less, in the public or private walks of life; and of these, short biographical notices will be found subjoined to these Memoirs.

1 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 106.

CHAPTER IX. A.D.-1776-1777. Dissolution of Stanmore School—Causes of it—Dr. Parr’s appointment to the mastership of Colchester School—His removal to that town—His failure of success—His acquaintance with Mr. Twining—and Dr. Forster—His opinion of the American war—of Lord North—of the clerical petition—His appointment to the cures of the Hythe and Trinity Churches—His mode of preaching.

Stanmore School, if honourable in its course, was short in its duration. Though it was at first attended with much encouraging success, yet its profits were greatly diminished by the interest of heavy debts, contracted in the purchase of a suitable house and the necessary furniture; and though its credit stood deservedly high, yet, in the progress of a few years, it was found unable to bear up in competition with the old and extensive interests, which supported the neighbouring school of Harrow.

Superior to the meanness of literary jealousy, and ever anxious to do justice to the claims even of those of opposing views and sentiments,1 Dr. Parr always acknowledged in his fortunate

1 “Æqualitas et pares honorum gradus, et studiorum quasi finitima vicinitas, tantùm absunt ab invidiæ obtrectatione, ut non modo non exulcerare eorum gratiam, sed conciliare videantur.”—Præf. ad Bellendenum, p. 15.

rival, a man of learning, of talents, and of worth; and it may well be supposed that no exertion in the discharge of his official duties would be wanting on the part of Dr. Heath to justify, as far as such exertion could, the preference which, contrary to the general opinion of the merits of the respective candidates, he had obtained. At Eton, as second master, he had gained much honourable reputation; and it would have created no feelings but those of pleasure in him, to whose memory these pages are consecrated, could he have foreseen, recorded in the same pages, the following testimony, gratefully and affectionately borne to the merits of an excellent tutor, by one of his own pupils. It occurs in a letter from John Pollard, Esq., then a scholar of Queen’s College, Oxford, addressed to his brother Walter, who had just removed with the seceding throng from Harrow to Stanmore. “I know not your precise motives,” says the writer, “for quitting your former school; but since you are pleased with your new situation, I shall say no more. Impartiality, however, obliges me to say, that you could not have had a more excellent master than Dr. Heath; a man eminently distinguished for the good qualities of the head and the heart. At Eton, I had in him a steady friend, and a faithful adviser. He is exceedingly affable in his manners, and is profoundly learned, without any mixture of pedantry. I wish, therefore, his success at Harrow may be equal to his high deserts.”1

1 Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 82, note.

The wishes of his pupil, it may with truth be added, were amply realised. The reputation, acquired at Eton, was well sustained by Dr. Heath, as head of Harrow School; which, under his auspices, gradually recovered from the shock of the late disturbance, followed by the secession of so large a number of its best scholars; and, in no long time, rose to all the height of its former renown. Thus the chances of success were continually diminishing in a rival institution, at the distance of only two or three miles—indebted for its existence, at first, to strongly excited feeling, not likely to continue; and dependent for its duration chiefly on the influence of one great name, not yet invested with all the celebrity which it afterwards attained.

Such, at the end of about five years, were the discouraging circumstances of the great undertaking, in which Dr. Parr had embarked his little fortunes, at Stanmore. Oppressed by the weight of an expensive establishment, and disappointed in his hopes of public support, he was drawn at length to the painful resolution of relinquishing his plans, and of looking out for other means of adequate and honourable subsistence. He possessed a sincere friend and patron in the Earl of Dartmouth, three of whose sons were educated by him. But that nobleman, though appointed Secretary of State in 1772, and advanced in 1775 to the post of Lord Privy-Seal, found no opportunity of procuring for him any of the honours or emoluments of the church; and Dr. Parr was still obliged, as his sole resource, to rely “upon his own patient toil and resolute self-denial.”1 Towards the end of the year 1776, an event occurred which seemed favourable to his views and wishes. About that time, the mastership of the grammar-school at Colchester became vacant, by the death of the Rev. Mr. Smithies: and the offer of it, handsomely made on the part of the governors, was, after due deliberation, accepted.

From Stanmore—ever endeared to his recollection as the scene of his useful labours, and the centre which drew towards it many valuable acquaintances and friends—Dr. Parr removed with his family, consisting of his wife and a daughter, early in the spring of 1777, to Colchester; and entered with all his usual ardour on the duties of his new station. He had succeeded, much to his own satisfaction, in engaging the services of the Rev. Wm. Julius, whom he mentions as his “ingenious pupil at Stanmore, and his most meritorious assistant at Colchester.”2 The buildings of the public school, which had fallen into some decay, he repaired; and he took a house near it, for the reception of private boarders. These consisted principally of some pupils, who had accompanied him from Stanmore; and the number afterwards added was inconsiderable. Thus in a little time his prospects were again clouded over; and some further change in his plans, some new efforts for his support, became desirable, or even necessary.

But though his residence at Colchester was of short duration, and not cheered by the pleasurable

1 Spital Sermon, notes. 2 Bibl. Parr. p. 651.

feelings of hopes realised or endeavours successful, yet he always reflected upon it with much satisfaction, because it afforded him the opportunity of cultivating the friendship of two learned and excellent men, whom he ever afterwards held in the highest estimation.

Of these, one was the Rev. Thomas Twining, who was the son of an eminent tea-merchant in London, and who was intended by his father for his successor in the lucrative business which he had for many years carried on. But, in consequence of his own decided preference, he was permitted to engage in literary pursuits, and to devote himself to the clerical profession. He was rector of White Notley, in Essex; and, on the death of the Rev. Philip Morant, the celebrated antiquary, was presented to the rectory of St. Mary’s, Colchester. He was greatly distinguished for his classical knowledge and critical skill: and is well known to the public as the translator of “Aristotle’s Poetics.”1 This translation Dr. Parr always considered as admirable, equally for its correctness and for its perspicuity; and he always spoke with praise of the sound discriminating judgment, united with the vast and profound learning, displayed in the notes appended. If by the charms of elegant

1 To Dr. Parr’s copy of this book the following note is subjoined:—“The gift of the editor, whom I am proud and happy to call my friend, because he is one of the best scholars now living, and one of the best men that ever lived.”—“The notes of Twining are very learned; and, considered as a translation of a Greek original, his work, I believe, is not surpassed by any translation in the English language. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr, p. 223.

literature Mr. Twining could not fail to attract the admiration, he was no less sure to engage the respect and the love of Dr. Parr, by the amiable frankness of his temper, by the pleasing simplicity of his manners, and by the wit and the vivacity of his conversation. He was so conscientiously strict in the discharge of his professional duties, that he never allowed himself to be absent from his parish for more than a fortnight, in any one year, through the last forty years of his life. He died in 1804.

The Rev. Dr. Nathaniel Forster, the other of Dr. Parr’s most intimate friends at Colchester, was a man of powerful intellect, diligently cultivated, and vigorously exercised by profound researches into all the most important subjects of metaphysics, ethics, and theology. His conversation was highly interesting, and in no small degree instructive, to Dr. Parr,1 as he often declared; though they thought and felt very differently on the great public questions so eagerly debated in those times, chiefly relative to the disputes with America, and the measures of Lord North’s administration.2 But in these learned and enlightened men, differences of opinion had no power to destroy, nor even to

1 He calls him “the profound and sagacious Dr. Forster.”—Sequel to a printed paper, p. 108. And again, “Dr. Parr’s very philosophical, very learned, and very benevolent friend, the late Dr. Forster.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 562.

2 Forster on the Middlesex Election, in answer to Sir W. Meredith, 1762.—His answer to Junius—his answer to Mr. Dunning on the same subject, 1770. “Dr. Forster’s pamphlets are very able indeed. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 400.

diminish, the esteem, which their talents and virtues reciprocally inspired.

At this period, the American war, most unhappily for England, was raging in all its fury. “It was a war,” says Dr. Parr,1 “which commenced, and was afterwards conducted, under evil auspices;” and yet, as he observes, it was in its origin, “the war of the king and the nation.” The powerful remains of the Tory party, all those who were called, by a distinction at once novel and unconstitutional, “the King’s friends,”2 far the greater number of the clergy, and a large majority of the people, were undoubtedly the authors and abettors of that disgraceful and direful contest. With these, it must be reluctantly acknowledged, were united too many of the Whigs, actuated by a strange and absurd notion of “the omnipotence of Parliament;” as if its power extended alike to those who are really, and to those who are not even virtually represented. Opposed to this mighty combination of almost all the strength and population of the country, firmly and nobly stood the great body of the Whigs; led on by Lords Rockingham, Chatham, and Camden,

1 Præf. ad Bellen. pp. 8. 32.

2 “During Lord North’s administration, I was in company with the secretary of state and some other great officers, and I fiercely attacked the fashionable and mischievous distinction of the king’s friends. To you I am indebted for the fact, that the distinction originated in Lord Bath’s counsels. There was no distinct vestige of it before the public eye while George II. was upon the throne.”—Dr. Parr’s Letter to Charles Butler, Esq.; Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 223.

in the upper house, and by Burke, Barré and Fox, in the lower; and these were well supported by many of the great merchants and traders of the metropolis, by most of the various denominations of dissenters, and even by a considerable number of candid and intelligent clergymen, the avowed advocates of civil and religious liberty—among whom conspicuously appeared the names of Shipley, Watson, Tucker,1 Jebb, and Wyvill; and, though less prominently, those of Henry Taylor, Blackburne, Paley, and Parr. By all these, the war of Great Britain with her colonies was uniformly reprobated, as no less iniquitous in its origin, than disastrous in its progress, and likely to be, as it afterwards proved, inglorious in its issue.

But whilst he held in utter abhorrence the avowed principle and the proposed object of the American war, Dr. Parr was led afterwards, at least, to conceive a favourable opinion of the minister under whose administration all its fatal measures were pertinaciously defended and obstinately conducted. In the following passages some of the more estimable qualities which marked his character are depicted with a powerful, and many will think with a partial hand; and if the exculpatory statement of his conduct in the great affair of Ame-

1 Dean of Gloucester. His name is here inserted, chiefly on account of his bold and powerful appeal to the British nation, published so early as 1774, recommending an immediate acknowledgment of American independence. He published also important works on the subject of free trade, church-reform, and religious toleration. In his later years he seems to have deviated from the principles which he avowed in early life.

rica be admitted at all, it can only be as an apology for what, surely, on no principles of justice or policy it is possible to defend.

“Lord North possesses great natural acuteness, which he has improved by art and experience. With considerable dignity, he unites those powers of wit, which are both agreeable in adorning a narration, and irresistible in exciting ridicule. His memory is rich in the knowledge of antiquity, and happy in applying it to his purpose. His speeches distinguish him as an individual most amiably resolved to bear with the infirmities and follies of mankind, and often has his polished urbanity restrained the ill humour and asperity of others. His style, though not much ornamented, is certainly not mean. He comprehends a subject readily, and explains it with success. It is not his smallest praise that he not only says all that is necessary to his purpose, but that he never says more. To these accomplishments of the orator, possessed from nature, or acquired by diligence, is added the genuine and the greatest love of his country, whose ancient forms and customs he not only understands to admiration, but defends, whenever they become subjects of dispute, with vigour and with firmness. If we investigate more minutely the character of his mind, we shall have occasion to observe that, when in possession of the highest dignity, and opposed by a powerful competitor, he conducted himself with the greatest moderation. We shall find him steady in his attachments; peaceable when offended; successful in inspiring confidence which he never disappointed; never using his power for the depression of the weak; exempt from the very appearance of criminality, unless it be imputed to him that, in the prosecution of the American war, he did not keep pace with the ardour of public expectation. That war, originating in measures in which he had no concern, was undertaken by him with hesitation and reluctance. All resistance to the popular views and wishes being ineffectual, he was impelled to arms—to arms already stained with unexpiated blood, by the combined efforts of the sovereign, the senate and the people.”1

In 1772 a motion was brought forward in the House of Commons, very important to the cause of religious liberty, and to the honour and interests of the national church. This was in consequence of an application from certain clergymen, who had for some time associated together for the purpose of obtaining relief in the matter of subscription to the thirty-nine articles, by which they felt themselves seriously aggrieved. They consisted of about 250 of the most learned and enlightened of the clergy, and were usually called “clerical petitioners;” among whom were particularly distinguished Bishop Law, Archdeacon Blackburne, Dr. Jebb, Dr. Watson, and Mr. Wyvill.

On presenting their petition, it was powerfully urged by Sir W. Meredith, Mr. T. Pitt, afterwards Lord Camelford, and others, that the thirty-nine articles were drawn up at a period, when the nation had scarcely emerged from the darkness of

1 Præf. Bellendeni, p. 6. Beloe’s Trans, p. 16.

popery; that of these, some are obscure, others absurd, and others, in the opinion of almost all the reflecting part of the Christian world, false or dubious; and that of the clergy themselves, who sign them from compulsion, there are few who really believe them. Thus, it was contended, a habit of prevarication, dangerous to morals, is encouraged even in the teachers of religion; the church is dishonoured, and in the same proportion weakened; many of its conscientious members are distressed, or driven from its communion; and the entrance is barred against the admission into it of many upright and excellent men, who would otherwise seek it. Such were the cogent reasonings, by which the petition was supported; but it was, nevertheless, thrown out by a large majority; and when in the following session it was a second time presented, it was by the same powerful majority a second time rejected. “Not always the truth and justice of the question carries the verdict with it.”1

“When my beloved and respected friend, Dr. John Jebb,” says Dr. Parr,2 “was conducting a petition for relief from subscription, I was no stranger to the splendid talents and exemplary virtues which distinguished many of his associates. I was no enemy to that active and impartial spirit of inquiry, which had led other men into opinions far bolder than my own. But I refused to act with Dr. Jebb, because his plan grasped too much at once; and, because I was informed of a more temperate scheme, which was to have been laid before

1 Shakspeare. 2 Sequel to a printed paper, p. 52.

Archbishop Cornwallis, by two ecclesiastical dignitaries, who have since been deservedly raised to the episcopal bench.”1

Such was the conduct of Dr. Parr, and such his own account of the motives by which he was actuated, on this memorable occasion; when a great effort was made to remove one of the foulest blots, by which the English church is disfigured and defiled. There is no doubt that he approved in general of the principles on which the clerical petitioners proceeded; and that he acknowledged, to its full extent, the grievance of which they complained. But, like Dr. Paley, who, with the same view of the case, and the same doubtfulness of present success, acted the same cautious part, he reserved himself for some future occasion; when, encouraged by the accession of greater numbers, and by the sanction of higher authority, he would probably have united his own active efforts with theirs; and, perhaps, if the question had been pressed upon him, he would, with the same ingenuousness, have confessed with Dr. Paley—“I have been a coward in this business; but I will come in with the next wave, and that will be larger.”2

1 “Mr. Wollaston, Vicar of Chislehurst, Porteus, then Rector of Lambeth, afterwards Bishop of London, and York, then Dean of Lincoln, afterwards Bishop of Ely, waited upon Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury, to obtain his support for a review of the thirty-nine articles, and a reform of the church service on Dr. Clarke’s plan. They failed. But Porteus, many years afterwards, attacked the Socinians, in a pamphlet without his name. I smiled at the conversion of Porteus, when he wore a mitre. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 611.

2 Meadley’s Mem. of Paley, p. 90.

All, who were acquainted with Dr. Parr, well know that the habit of his mind was extreme caution and excessive timidity; that, through the whole course of his life, some of his later years excepted, whilst he was bold in thinking and even in talking, he was often fearful of acting; and that, not unfrequently, he advised and approved, and even secretly promoted measures, which he had not always the courage to avow publicly, or to support openly. In the present instance, however, it must be allowed, that Dr. Jebb and his friends weakened their cause “by grasping at too much, in too short a time;” or by pointing their objection against all subscription whatever, except only to the Scriptures, and not against that subscription of which, in the general opinion, they had good reason to complain. Thus, besides the high church and tory party, the determined foes of all human improvements, they raised up against themselves opponents in those who, though ready to tolerate diversity in religious opinions, yet conceived that some criterion, to secure the common faith of the clergy in a few great points, is necessary to an established church. But the petitioners were still right in their general principle, even if they too hastily pushed it to its extreme limits; and so just and spirited an attempt to remove a serious and oppressive evil ought not to have been deserted by any true friend to the cause of religious liberty, or of ecclesiastical reform.

It is painful to relate, that these first were also the last attempts ever made during the reign of George III. to correct glaring abuses, to redress crying grievances, and to introduce into the state of the church those alterations and amendments, which the change of circumstances and the improved condition of society demand; and which would at once redound to its honour, and contribute to its security and prosperity. But since “reform or ruin” is the inevitable doom of all human institutions, he that dreads the one should be cautious how he too pertinaciously opposes the other. “Beware! and lick not the sweet which is your poison.”1

During his short residence at Colchester, which scarcely exceeded twelve or fourteen months, Dr. Parr was ordained priest by Bishop Lowth; and, at the request of his friend, Dr. Forster, he entered upon the cures of the Hythe and the Trinity Church in that town. It may deserve to be noticed, that both here and at his curacies in Middlesex, he was accustomed to deliver his public discourses, without the aid of written notes; which, indeed, was his general practice through life. When speaking of it to his friends, he always ascribed the ease and the pleasure with which he adopted that practice to the habit of extemporary speaking, first acquired in his contests with his two powerful rivals at Harrow School, and afterwards called into constant exercise in the course of giving instruction to his pupils.2

It must, however, be remembered, that nature had supplied him in rich abundance with most of the qualities, contributing to form the impressive

1 Shakspeare. 2 Europ. Mag. Sept. 1809.

and accomplished speaker, in his figure, his voice, the force of his understanding, the ardour of his feelings, and the vigour of his imagination—in his quick and clear comprehension of every subject to which his attention was directed, and in the wonderful strength of memory which enabled him to bring out, promptly and copiously, on all occasions, the vast stores of knowledge collected from so many sources, and arranged with so much order in his mind. It will long be remembered by those who were statedly or occasionally his hearers, at a subsequent period, when he resided at Hatton, that in his extemporaneous addresses he often broke forth into a strain of fervid and forcible, and sometimes even sublime eloquence, by which his whole audience were astonished and enraptured.1 Under favourable circumstances Dr. Parr would have been an orator of a high order.

1 One being asked respecting a passage by which some of his hearers were particularly struck, whether he had read it from his book?—“Oh no!” said he, “it was the light of nature suddenly flashing upon me.”

CHAPTER X. A. D. 1779—1786. Dr. Parr’s appointment to the mastership of Norwich School—His removal to that city—His discouragements—His engagements as curate of St. George’s and St. Saviour’s—His four first published sermons—Degree of LL.D. conferred upon him at Cambridge—His two theses on that occasion—His first preferment—his second.

In the spring of 1778 the mastership of Norwich School became vacant, by the resignation of the Rev. George William Lemon,1 known to the literary world as the author of an “Etymological Dictionary,” and of other works; when Dr. Parr was induced to offer himself as a candidate for that office.

He had formed several agreeable connexions in the county of Norfolk; and at that time one of his cousins, to whom he was much attached, resided at Norwich. This was the Rev. Robert Parr, son of the Rev. Robert Parr, rector of Horsted and Cottishall—a name before respectfully mentioned in

1 He was the editor of a tract “On the Greek Accents,” by the celebrated Spelman, and author of “The Voyage of Æneas from Troy.”—“Mr. Lemon was Dr. Parr’s immediate predecessor in the mastership of Norwich School. He was not a very skilful teacher, and knew little of the world; but he was a worthy man, had great industry, and much learning. He was the intimate friend of Spelman, and was assisted by Spelman’s papers. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 698.

these pages. He was himself rector of Heigham, a small village, about a mile distant from the city. He had a brother, Francis, the survivor of twins,1 fellow of King’s College, Cambridge, who died early in life, at Harrow; of whom Dr. Parr thus speaks in a letter to a friend—“I loved him sincerely, and had many opportunities of serving him.” From his cousin, Robert, Dr. Parr possessed the reversion of a considerable estate, devised by will, contingent on the death of the widow; which event did not happen till the winter of 1823.

“August 1, 1778, at a full court of mayoralty, the Rev. Samuel Parr, A. M., was elected master of the grammar-school of Norwich, on the foundation of Edward VI.;”2 and early in the following year he fixed his residence in that city. Though so often disappointed in his views, he was still unbroken in his spirit; and though not encouraged in his labours as a teacher by public patronage; yet he once more resumed them, with undiminished ardour and with renovated hope. He introduced into the school some considerable improvements in the plan of instruction, and in the rules of discipline; and he had the happiness to receive under his charge several young persons, who afterwards appeared with distinction in the literary or political world. Of these some notice will be taken hereafter. In consequence of the strong recommendations of Dr. Parr, his late pupil, the Rev. William Beloe, whose name has already appeared,

1 See Pedigree, in the Appendix, No. I.

2 Hist. of Norfolk, vol. x. p. 216.

though not very honourably, in these pages, was chosen second master.

Many circumstances there were, especially those of pleasant, and, in no common degree, enlightened society, which rendered his situation at Norwich very agreeable to Dr. Parr; but among these it must now be told, the means of acquiring affluence, or even an easy independence, cannot be enumerated. The great expenses of frequent removals, and perhaps inattention to the due management of his pecuniary concerns, contributed, with the want of public support, to impoverish him; and the writer has often heard him feelingly describe the difficulties to which in this part of his life he was sometimes reduced. He well remembers that, once in particular, looking round upon a small library which the writer possesses, Dr. Parr’s attention was caught by the title “Stephani Thesaurus Linguæ Græcæ;” when, suddenly turning about, and striking vehemently the arm of the person, whom he addressed, in a manner very usual with him, he exclaimed, “Ah! my friend, my friend, may you never be forced, as I was at Norwich, to sell that work—to me so precious—from absolute and urgent necessity!”1

But though not loaded with the gifts of fortune, nor encouraged by the smiles of patronage—at least not till the later years of his life—yet in the full

1 “At one time in my life,” said he to his friend, Dr. Wade, “I had but fourteen pounds in the world. But then I had good spirits, and owed no man sixpence.”—New Monthly Mag. May, 1826.

consciousness of his own qualifications, as an instructor of youth; in the pleasing recollection of faithful and diligent endeavours, exerted for the improvement of his pupils; in the sincere and affectionate friendship, which he contracted with many of them, and in the expressions of esteem and gratitude, which he constantly received from all; he found sources of delight greater than he could have derived from the pecuniary success of his various undertakings, or from the honours and emoluments of his profession—though even these he was far from affecting to despise. It was a declaration which he often repeated to his friends, sometimes with eyes raised ardently to Heaven— sometimes with hands pressed fervently to his breast—that, on the whole course of his scholastic labours, ill-requited as in some respects they were, he ever looked back with the purest and the highest satisfaction.

Soon after his settlement at Norwich, with the duties of the school, Dr. Parr united those of the sacred office; and, as curate to the Rev. William Tapps, he served the churches of St. George’s Colgate and St. Saviour. He now occasionally delivered discourses, carefully composed; and in these, it is said, he sometimes soared above the level of the common apprehension. But more frequently he adopted his former and happier method of addressing his audience, without the preparation of writing; and he usually selected for his subject some difficult passage of Scripture, which it was his wish to explain; or some interesting event, or striking declaration, or important admonition, in the lesson, or gospel, or epistle, from which it was his aim to draw whatever moral or religious instruction it might be intended or fitted to afford. But these useful services in the church, his other pressing engagements did not allow him to continue much longer than a year.

Three sermons delivered on three public occasions, at the request of his hearers, were afterwards sent to the press; and these, as his first published works, will be noticed more fully in a succeeding page. The first was preached on Christmas-day, 1779; and the second and the third, on the all-important subject of education, were delivered before the governors of the charity-schools in Norwich; one in 1780, the other in 1782. Of the two last the author himself has given the following account.

“The second discourse was preached before a very respectable audience; and it is now submitted to the candour of the public, at the request of some persons—the sincerity of whose approbation I cannot distrust, and with the authority of whose judgment I ought not to trifle. I intend it as a sequel to the sermon which I published in 1780. In that sermon, I entered into a full and elaborate vindication of the general principles on which charity-schools are supported. But upon the present occasion, I have studiously preserved a plainer style: I have chiefly attended to the practical part of the subject: I have enlarged more copiously upon the best methods of religious education for all young persons; and, with few exceptions, I profess only to deliver such common and useful observations, as are adapted to the apprehension of the common and well-disposed readers.”

Of this second discourse, a gentleman still living in Norwich, Mr. John Taylor,1 a much-valued friend of Dr. Parr, in a letter to the writer of these volumes, thus speaks: “It occupied in the delivery, as I well remember, the full space of an hour and a half, having heard it myself at my parish church. It was preached before the corpo-

1 Alas! this excellent man is now no more. Almost at the moment of his lamented death, the writer, in consequence of some intimation conveyed to him, was indulging the hope of receiving a visit from his intelligent and obliging correspondent; and thus of adding to the pleasure of an interchange of letters, on the subject of these Memoirs, the still greater satisfaction of obtaining further and fuller information, orally, on the same interesting subject. Mr. Taylor was grandson of the celebrated Dr. Taylor; and though his education was somewhat restricted, and he was placed under the necessity of engaging early in trade, yet he inherited from his great progenitor his veneration for learning, and his ardour in the pursuit of knowledge, his enlightened views of Christian truth, and his devoted attachment to the great cause of the rights and liberties of men and of nations. In him the dignity, which serious religious principle and undeviating moral rectitude bestow, was accompanied and graced by all the loveliness which kind affectionate temper, and pleasing courteous manners confer. Whilst he was carefully attentive to the duties of private life, and was the pride and the joy of an extended family circle, his active mind and public spirit prompted him to engage, almost incessantly, in useful services, for the benefit of the city in which he resided, and especially of the religious community to which he more immediately belonged. His death was occasioned by an accident in travelling, near the residence of one of his sons, in the neighbourhood of Birmingham, June 23, 1826.

ration of the city; and as the service was to be succeeded by a public dinner, no small degree of impatience was visible in the looks of some of the Doctor’s auditors. But he still went on in his own course, utterly regardless of the frequent appeal to watches and other significant hints.”—As it appears in print, it extends through seventy quarto pages; and the preacher had some reason to say, as he does in his preface, “For the length of this sermon, I am unable to make any satisfactory apology.”

A fourth sermon, entitled “A Discourse on the late Fast by Phileleutheros Norfolciensis,” was published, though not preached, in 1781. The author in his preface declares himself to be “a serious, and, as he hopes, an unprejudiced clergyman of the Church of England.”—“He conceals his name,” he adds, “because he is not compelled by any motive of vanity to venture on publication; and he has published, because the sentiments he maintains seem to coincide with the most useful purposes which the late fast could be intended to promote. These sentiments, indeed, are not likely to obtain popularity by selfish adulation or seditious invective: they flatter the prejudices of no party; and are honestly intended to reform such immoralities as may be justly imputed to all.”

This sermon, though one of his first publications, Dr. Parr often told the writer, he considered as his best composition; and it is somewhat remarkable, that, by the constant study and frequent practice of writing, during the long course of more than forty years, he should not, in his own opinion, have surpassed his earliest literary efforts. It may remind the reader of the similar case of Mr. Gibbon and Sir Joshua Reynolds. Having related the history and discussed the merits of his first published work, entitled, “Essai sur l’Etude de la Litterature,” Mr. Gibbon thus concludes: “Upon the whole I may apply to the first production of my pen, the speech of a far superior artist, when he surveyed the first production of his pencil. After viewing some portraits which he had painted in his youth, my friend, Sir Joshua Reynolds, acknowledged to me that he was rather humbled than flattered by the comparison with his present works; and that, after so much time and study, he conceived his improvement to be much greater than he found it to have been.”1

As the course of his academical studies had been abruptly terminated by the hard necessity of leaving Cambridge, Dr. Parr could not regularly proceed to the degree of A. B. On an important occasion, as before related, he had been made A. M. by royal mandate; and now, aspiring to the honour of a doctor’s degree, he diverted, in opposition to the advice of his former tutor, Mr. Hubbard, from the line of divinity to that of law—as admitting of more expeditious proceedings—and at the commencement of 1781, he obtained the degree of LL.D.

On this occasion he delivered, in the law-schools, before crowded audiences, two theses; of which the subject of the first was, Hæres ex de-

1 Gibbon’s Memoirs, p. 92.

licto defuncti non tenetur; and of the second, Jus interpretandi leges privatis, perinde ac principi, constat. In the former of these, after having offered a tribute of due respect to the memory of the late Hon. Charles Yorke, he strenuously opposed the doctrine of that celebrated lawyer, laid down in his book upon “the law of forfeiture;” and denied the authority of those passages which were quoted from the correspondence of Cicero and Brutus; because, as he affirmed, after that learned and sagacious critic Markland,1 the correspondence itself is not genuine. The same liberal and enlightened views of the natural and social rights of man pervaded the latter, as well as the former thesis; and in both were displayed such strength of reasoning and power of language, such accurate knowledge of historical facts, and such clear comprehension of legal principles bearing on the questions, that the whole audience listened with fixed and delighted attention. The professor of law himself, Dr. Halifax, afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph, was so struck with the uncommon excellence of these compositions, as to make it his particular request that they should be given to the

1 Markland published, in 1745, “Remarks on the Epistles of Cicero to Brutus, and of Brutus to Cicero:” to which was added, a “Dissertation on Four Orations ascribed to Cicero,—‘Ad Quirites post reditum’—‘Post reditum in Senatu’—‘Pro Domo sua ad Pontifices’—‘De Haruspicum responsis.’” All these, it is contended, were not the productions of the great orator, but of some sophist of later times.—Besides subscribing to the opinion of Markland, Dr. Parr conceived, from the difference of style, that some other works usually ascribed to Cicero are not genuine.

public: but with that request, Dr. Parr could not be persuaded to comply. In the course of the disputations, also, usual upon such occasions, it excited general surprise to observe in him, who had been so short a time resident in the university, that acuteness of discrimination, and that promptness of reply, which would have done honour to one well practised in the logical forms of academical exercises.

Speaking, in a recent publication, of these exercises, and of the learned professor, in whose presence they were performed, Dr. Parr thus expresses himself: “When Dr. Halifax sat in the professional chair at Cambridge, the members of that university were much delighted, with the fluency and clearness of his Latinity, and with his readiness and skill in conducting the disputes of the law-schools. It was my own lot to keep under him two acts for my doctor’s degree; and surely, from the preparatory labours which I employed in correcting the language of two Latin theses, and in accumulating materials for a close logical dispute, likely to pass before a numerous, intelligent, and attentive audience, the obvious inference is that I did not set a small value on the abilities and acquirements of the professor.”1

In the year 1780 Dr. Parr obtained his first preferment, for which, it is scarcely necessary to say, he was indebted, not to public patronage, but to private friendship. This was the rectory of Asterby, in Lincolnshire, to which he was pre-

1 Parr’s Letter to Milner.

sented by Jane Lady Trafford, in return for his care and fidelity in the discharge of his trust, as the preceptor of her only son, Sigismund Trafford Southwell, Esq. of Norfolk; to whom he was sincerely and devotedly attached through life, and of whom, in the solemn contemplation of death, bequeathing to him a small memorial of himself, he speaks in terms of affection and gratitude, “as his much esteemed pupil, friend, and patron.”1

This first preferment—from which, after the stipend to his curate and other necessary expenses were paid, he never derived more than 36l. per annum—was followed, in 1783, by another and a better, for which he was again indebted to the same kind patroness, in the perpetual curacy of Hatton, worth about 100l. a year. He was advised and entreated by his diocesan, Bishop Thurlow, still to retain the living of Asterby; but he chose to resign it in favour of his curate, the Rev. Mr. Fowler, of Horncastle, who had no other preferment; upon whom, at his particular request, Lady Trafford was pleased to confer it; and who, by an allotment of land under an enclosure act, in lieu of tithes, found it much more valuable to himself than it had ever been to his predecessor.

1 Last Will.

CHAPTER XI. 1779-1786. Dr. Parr at Norwich—His religious candour—His high opinion of Dr. Taylor, minister of the Octagon Chapel—Inscription to the memory of that eminent divine, written by Dr. Parr—His letter on that occasion—His friendly intercourse with Dr. Taylor’s successors, Mr. Bourn and Mr. Morgan—Application to Parliament for the relief of the dissenting clergy, in the matter of subscription—Relaxation of the penal-laws against the Catholics—Riots in consequence—Trial of Lord G. Gordon—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of his advocate, Mr. Erskine.

In the course of his narrative, it is now the pleasing task of the writer to hold up to the notice and admiration of his readers, one of the most distinguishing excellencies in the character of Dr. Parr, which began about this time to shine out in its full lustre. This was his great and amiable candour; a virtue, in the spirit and the practice of which, it may almost be said that he was perfect. Such was the warm breathing and such the wide extent of his charity, that, spurning the narrow bounds of mere tolerance, he felt exactly the same respectful regard for the sincere and virtuous of all other denominations, as for those of his own. He had the happiness, at Norwich, to be surrounded by a number of the clergy, possessed of the same enlightened views, who rose with a noble superiority, like himself, above the prejudices, which too often divide men of real worth from each other; and who were disposed, and even eagerly desirous, to cultivate the good opinion, and, as opportunity offered, the acquaintance and friendship of those, whose religious creed differed from their own.

High, indeed, was the indignation which throbbed in his bosom, whenever he spoke of that unhappy spirit of censorious and intolerant bigotry which, in later years, has too much pervaded the clerical body, undoubtedly with many splendid exceptions; more especially, when he contrasted with it the wise moderation, the kind charity, the generous courtesy, towards those of differing opinions, which distinguished the clergy in the earlier part of his own life, and in the times immediately preceding. “Which of our dignitaries of those times,” he would often say to the present writer,—“our Herring, our Conybeare and Hoadley, our Butler, our Benson, our Waddington, and Law,—did not think themselves honoured by the esteem and the friendly regards of your Watts, your Doddridge, and your Lardner,—your Benson, your Chandler, and your Farmer?”—“But now,” thundering out with angry look and impassioned gesture, he would exclaim, “Oh! what a difference! to the good mind how distressful! to the right mind how disgustful!” Then softening a little, and speaking half-seriously and half-jocosely, “How I wish to be on the bench, were it only to show, to all about me, the example of a wiser and better spirit!”—“Aye,” pursuing the sudden suggestion of his imagination, he would continue, “to my very first public dinner, you, and all yours, whom I know, should be in-vited; your clergy should be placed without the smallest distinction among mine: you should be treated all alike—all with the same kind and respectful consideration.”—“Yes!” fired with benevolent delight at the thought, he would exclaim, “your proud scorn should soon soften into kind esteem, and mutual hate change into mutual love!”—“Aye, aye! we should eat and drink together, laugh and joke together, and then you might go away, and snarl, and bite one another, if you could.”

“Alas!” said he on another occasion, “for our church!—formerly she was the mother of all sects, now she is sectarian herself; embittered with the same spite and animosity to the sects, which the sects feel towards one another.”—“Oh! it is a change,” he would mournfully say, “as degrading to our dignity as weakening to our strength.”—“We have thrown ourselves down from the proud and secure eminence on which we once stood.”—“We are no longer the rallying point, to which you all ran, from each other’s wrathful passions and bitter strife. We are become to you all the one common object of suspicion or aversion. Instead of love, we get your hatred; and instead of respect, we shall soon have, and deserve, your contempt.”

Without surprise, but not it is to be hoped without pleasure, the reader of these pages will now peruse the following account of Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse, and indeed that also of many of his clerical brethren, with the Rev. Samuel Bourn, son of an eminent dissenting divine of Birmingham; who was at this time minister of the Octagon Chapel, Norwich, first as the assistant, afterwards as the successor, of the very learned and highly-distinguished Dr. John Taylor.

Dr. Taylor is well known to the learned world, as the author of a valuable Hebrew Concordance, in two volumes, folio, published by subscription; and among the subscribers, it deserves to be stated, appear the names of twenty-two English and fifteen Irish bishops, besides those of many of the inferior clergy. Another important work of the same author is, “A Key to the Apostolic Writings,” prefixed to a “Paraphrase on the Romans:” and it is here particularly mentioned, because it was a book greatly approved and admired by Dr. Parr; who considered it as the best introduction to the epistolary writings, and the best account of the whole Christian scheme, that has ever yet been published. As such, he constantly read and consulted it himself; as such, he earnestly recommended it to all who wished to form just and reasonable ideas of Christianity, and to understand properly those views of it, which are held forth in the writings of the apostles. Nor was he, in this opinion, by any means singular among the clergy of his church. The same work was held in similar

1 Returning from Leamington one day, some years ago, and calling upon the writer, Dr. Parr said, “I have just been visiting a very intelligent and excellent lady, Lady A——, who reads much, and reflects much, upon religious subjects; and who requested me to recommend some book, as a guide to the careful and critical study of the New Testament, especially the epistolary parts of it; and I think you will allow that my choice could not have fixed on a better than that, which I have just put into her hands—‘Taylor’s Key.’”

estimation, by Archbishop Newcome, Bishop Watson, Archdeacon Paley, and Dr. Hey; of whom the first describes it as “very instructive in explaining the phraseology of the apostolic writings;” the second not only praised it, but gave it a place in his “Collection of Theological Tracts;”—an honour which he conferred on another work of the same author, entitled “A Scheme of Scripture Divinity;” the third “recommends it to the careful perusal of all young clergymen, preparing for holy orders;” and the fourth refers to it, with approbation; and even adopts its general principles in his “Lectures,” delivered from the theological chair at Cambridge.1

After a residence of about twenty-four years at Norwich, in consequence of an invitation which he received and accepted, to take upon himself the office of divinity-tutor, in the newly-established academy at Warrington, Dr. Taylor removed to that town; where the course of a life, devoted to learning and religion and all the best interests of mankind, was terminated by a sudden death, in the night of March 1, 1761. The respect in which Dr. Parr held his talents, his acquirements, and his virtues, and the high approbation with which he regarded his theological opinions and writings, he has recorded in a Latin inscription,2 for a mural monument consecrated to his memory in the chapel

1 Newcome’s “New Testament,” vol. ii. App. Watson’s “Collection of Tracts,” vol. iii. Paley’s “Advice to the Young Clergy.” Hey’s “Lectures on Divinity,” p. 267, &c.

2 See App. No. II.

at Norwich, by some of his descendants—to one of whom Richard Taylor, Esq. of London,” was addressed the letter from which the following extracts are, by his obliging permission, here inserted:

“Dear Sir,—You fall into the same misconceptions, which I have often found in other men of very good sense, by wishing to introduce into an inscription, matter, which is more adapted to biography.”—“Excellent as may be the books which Dr. Taylor wrote in the retired situation, of which you speak, we must be content with what I have generally said of him, as a learned man.”—“Dr. Taylor was, I doubt not, a sincere and strenuous advocate for liberty, civil and religious. But he is not much known to the public, by his political tenets; and on looking at the epitaph, I find that the mention of those tenets would most offensively derange the order, in which I have enumerated his moral qualities, his literary performances, his pastoral labours, and that theology which made him a defender of simple and uncorrupted religion.”—“I hesitated a little about inserting the year, in which the chapel was founded; and a chapel it is called by those, who frequent it; and a chapel I shall continue to call it. You non-cons have done well to exchange the word meeting-house for chapel;

1 The writer had once the pleasure of introducing to the hospitalities of Hatton Parsonage another descendant of this learned divine, Edgar Taylor, Esq. of London. Dr. Parr was pleased with his guest, and talked to him much, in a high panegyrical strain, of his great ancestor; expatiating on the virtues of his character, the depth of his learning, and the value of his writings.

and as chapel is less dignified than church, we lofty and dignified ecclesiastics will permit you to make some approach to our holy phraseology. Improper it cannot be to specify the year. But why is it necessary? Let the naughty heretics put up a stone on the front of their chapel, with a date to perpetuate the memory of the time when it was built. This surely is a more proper way than slipping the date into the inscription.”—“My ears tingled, and the terrors of the spiritual court seized me, when I found myself describing the impugner of original sin as a vigorous defender of simple and uncorrupted religion.1 This may be very true; and if I had not thought so, I should not have said so. But the two houses of convocation might anathematise me for my rashness, heterodoxy, impiety, &c. &c.—I am, &c. S. Parr.”

Mr. Bourn, Dr. Taylor’s successor at Norwich, acquired considerable distinction as the author of six volumes of sermons, which, for originality of thought, for fervour of feeling, and vigour of expression, deserve to be placed high in that class of compositions.2 Though the doctrines maintained in them are not always accordant with the doctrines of the church, yet their publication was encouraged by the subscription of more than thirty clergymen in Norwich and its vicinity, and more than sixty in other parts of the kingdom: a striking proof of

1 “Bell on the Lord’s Supper.” “On the sacrament, my serious opinions agree with those of Hoadley, Bell, and Taylor of Norwich.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 20.

2 “Samuel Bourn was a masterly writer, a profound thinker, and the intimate friend of Dr. Parr at Norwich. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 704.

the liberality of those times!—“the proud times of the church!”—as Dr. Parr often exultingly called them:1 and it would be strange, indeed, if the candour and the kindness, which thus appeared on the one side, had not been answered in the same spirit, accompanied with all the respect and gratitude so deservedly due, on the other.

“When I lived at Norwich,” says Dr. Parr, “Mr. Bourn, a dissenting teacher, not less eminent for the boldness of his opinions than for the depth of his researches, was very well received by the worthiest and the most respectable clergymen of that city.” But even without the sanction of such authority, impelled by the strong convictions of his own mind, Dr. Parr would have courted—no one who knew him can doubt—the society of a man, whose character he could not but honour, though his opinions he might not approve. Speaking of friendly intercourse between persons of differing creeds, thus he remarks: “I have always found that when men of sense and virtue mingle in free conversation, the harsh and confused suspicions, which they may have entertained of each other, gradually give way to more just and more candid sentiments. In reality, the example of many great and good men averts every imputation of impro-

1 “Dr. Parr spoke to me of the latitudinarian divines with approbation: he agreed with me in thinking that the most brilliant era of the British church, since the Reformation, was when the church abounded with divines of that school. He observed to me that, while they respected antiquity, they were without bigotry; and that their liberality did not degenerate into indifference.”—Butler’s Letter to Mr. Barker, Reminis. vol. ii. p. 249.

priety from such intercourse; and the information which I have myself gained, by conversing with learned teachers of different sects, will always make me remember with satisfaction, and acknowledge with gratitude, the favour they have done to me, by their unreserved and judicious communications.”1

Impressed with these views, which were not, with him, slight or transient feelings, but deep-fixed principles, almost immediately on settling at Norwich, Dr. Parr sought the acquaintance, and afterwards cultivated the friendship of Mr. Bourn. For his talents and his attainments, he admired him; for the ardour of his inquiries and the freedom of his speculations, he applauded him; for the good qualities of his heart and the general rectitude of his conduct, he honoured and loved him. He rejoiced with him, in the time of his health and his prosperity; and consoled and relieved him, in the season of his sickness and his sorrow.

Once, Dr. Parr invited Mr. Bourn to accompany him to Cambridge; and there he introduced his “non-con friend,” so he familiarly called him, to the Fellows of his own college, and to some other distinguished members of the university. “They were delighted with him,” said Dr. Parr, “and he with them. They kept up a little sparring, but with perfect good humour on all sides; and I,” continued he, speaking jocosely, “now and then let off my crackers among them; just to give a hint that they must not quarrel. We had a most agreeable day.”

1 Sequel, p. 99.

In the later years of his life Mr. Bourn was very unfortunate. He had entrusted his little property to a brother, by whom the greater part of it was lost in unsuccessful trade: and the corroding anguish of disappointment was aggravated by the decline of health, which obliged him to resign his pastoral office, and to retire, in his 60th year, to meet, with a scanty provision, the infirmities of advancing age. His misfortunes called forth the benevolent sympathy of the clergy, with whose acquaintance he had been honoured; and by whom the most generous exertions were made for his relief. Among them, Dr. Parr, himself far from being in affluence, strained his means to benefit his friend. In consequence of his and of their favourable representations, Dr. Mant, Bishop of Cork, then visiting at Norwich, was induced to offer to Mr. Bourn immediate preferment in the church in Ireland, amounting to 300l. a year, with a promise of farther promotion. But these kindly-intended offers, from conscientious motives, he declined, thus gaining for himself the applause of all the wise and good, and of none more than Dr. Parr, who ever contemplated, with admiring delight, as a grand moral spectacle, integrity, brought to the severest test, and nobly approving itself true and genuine. Mr. Bourn survived this memorable event of his life nearly twenty years, and died, Nov. 10, 1796, at the advanced age of eighty-two.1

On his resignation, Mr. Bourn was succeeded

1 Toulmin’s Life of Bourn, p. 123 &c.

by the Rev. Geo. Cadogan Morgan, nephew of the celebrated Dr. Price, distinguished rather as a man of science than of learning, who was the author of two ingenious volumes entitled, “Lectures on Electricity.”1 He had the happiness to be received with the same friendly regards, as his predecessor, into the same circle of enlightened clergymen; who have conferred, some by their learning, and all by their candour, so much honour upon the church. He had, especially, the high gratification to be admitted to a place in the esteem and confidence of Dr. Parr, who often spoke with pleasure to the present writer, and to others, of the many estimable qualities which adorned his character, and with deep regret for the lamentable accident which happened to him in conducting, without due caution, some chymical experiments, and which occasioned his death in the year 1798.

To turn from more private to public affairs—early in 1779, a measure was brought forward in the House of Commons, which could not fail to excite a deep interest in the mind of Dr. Parr, and in that of all the friends of religious freedom, and even of national justice. This was a bill for the

1 In the fly-leaf of this work in Dr. Parr’s Library is inserted the following note: “Morgan was a very acute and very enlightened man. He was a dissenting preacher at the Unitarian Chapel, Norwich. He married Miss Hurry of Yarmouth. He was nephew to Dr. Price, and brother of the celebrated calculator William Morgan. He was Dr. Parr’s intimate acquaintance at Norwich. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 705.

relief of the dissenting clergy; who were entitled to the benefit of the toleration act, only on the absurd and unjust condition of subscribing to the articles of a church, from which they derive no advantage, and with which they disclaim all connexion. But though the bill carried on the face of it the broad stamp of right and reason; and though it was twice almost unanimously approved in the lower house; yet, by the combined influence of the “king’s friends,” and the ecclesiastical lords, it was twice rejected in the upper. On a third attempt, however, the sense of shame, united with the claims of justice, bore down all opposition, and the bill passed into a law. The debate on this occasion was memorable for a most admirable speech, delivered by Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph,1 avowing and maintaining principles, so large and so liberal, that the wise and excellent prelate may almost be said to have anticipated the enlightened views of those more improved times, when the very name and notion

1 “A great majority of these dissenting clergy, I am told, declare against all human authority in matters of religion. They hold, that no church has a right to impose an article of faith on any other religious community. I believe from my heart that they say true: at least, if they do not, he that can confute them is a much abler man than myself. Now, my Lords, these are men, who deserve our esteem for their science, their literature, their critical study of the Scriptures, and for their excellent writings, either in defending or teaching common Christianity; and, my Lords, they have of late stood forth, almost singly, in defence of the natural, civil, and religious rights of mankind,” &c.—Speech of the Bp. of St. Asaph, Works, vol. ii. p. 238.

of toleration is spurned at, as a wrong and an insult—and when into its place has succeeded a principle, more correct in its terms, as well as more just and generous in its meaning and spirit, viz. “the sacred and indefeasible rights of conscience.”

About the same period was exhibited another signal proof of the increasing liberality of the times, in the repeal of certain penalties, imposed by the act of William III. to prevent the growth of popery. What these penalties were can hardly be told, in the present day, without horror. Officiating priests were liable to be punished as felons or traitors; a popish heir, educated abroad, forfeited his inheritance; a son, or near relative, being Protestant, might possess himself of the estate belonging to his father, or his near relative, being Papist; and all who received the Catholic faith were deprived of the right of acquiring landed property by purchase. Laws of such extreme injustice and dreadful severity were not often suffered, indeed, by the lenient spirit of the age to be carried into effect; but proud and happy was the day for England when, by the unanimous consent of the king, the senate, and the people, these persecuting statutes were erased from the code of British legislation for ever. Dr. Parr, in the joy of his heart, hailed this as the first act, in the reign of George III., of that justice which had been so long and so deservedly due to the patience, the sincerity, and the loyalty of “his Catholic fellow Christians and fellow subjects”—“sacred and venerable names”1—under which he ever delighted to consider them, and speak of them.2

In consequence of this relaxation of the laws against popery, it is well known that serious tumults took place in Scotland, followed, in June, 1780, by the dreadful riots in London, which seemed at one time to threaten destruction to the whole city. These, however, were never regarded as the result of any thing like general disapprobation, called forth by the late act, but merely as violent ebullitions of fanatic zeal, such as are always to be found in the lower and more ignorant classes of the community. The leader of these mad intolerants, Lord George Gordon—himself scarcely a man of sane mind—was afterwards brought to trial on a charge of high-treason; and it was on this occasion that the late Lord Erskine exhibited the genius and the eloquence, which were still more conspicuously displayed on several subsequent occasions, important, in a high degree, not only to the safety of individuals, but to the dearest interests of the nation. The present charge rested on the principle of constructive treason; and so effectually did the spirited and powerful advocate plead against that odious and dangerous principle, that the accused, guilty though he may have been of other crimes, was declared not guilty of this.—

1 Letter from Irenopolis, p. 1.

2 “Why do the Romanists and Protestants revile each other? My prayer is, that God may bless both. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 681.

From that time Lord Erskine became the object of Dr. Parr’s high admiration: he was ever eager to cultivate his good opinion and his friendly regard; and never spoke of him but with almost enthusiastic love and veneration.

On the subject of the claims of Catholics, to a still more complete toleration, Dr. Parr thus explains his sentiments:

“In the present condition of the world, that restless and relentless temper, which once actuated the members of the Church of Rome, is visibly assuaged: a spirit of inquiry has imperceptibly in speculative points produced a spirit of moderation; and few, if any, of the practical mischiefs, which popery might formerly have brought down upon us, are any longer to be dreaded. Gladly therefore should I hail the day, in which the religious tenets of the Roman Catholics should not be permitted to obstruct the full recovery of their civil rights; and in which the Church of England, providing at once for its own interest and its own honour, should display to every other church a glorious example “of holding the faith, in the unity of the spirit and the bond of peace.”1

1 Fox’s Characters, vol. ii. p. 630.

CHAPTER XII. 1779—1786. Dr. Parr at Norwich—Account concluded—His deep interest in the political events of the times—Termination of Lord North’s administration—The Rockingham—succeeded by the Shelburne administration—Coalition ministry—Commencement of the Pitt administration—Death of Dr. Johnson—Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with him—Comparison between them—Interview of Dr. Priestley with Dr. Johnson—Inscription for Dr. Johnson’s monument—Intended memoirs of his life.

The years 1782 and 1783 were distinguished by extraordinary and important events, in the political annals of England. Early in March of the former year, the long and disastrous career of Lord North’s administration terminated in his forced resignation, to the great joy of the whole country: and that joy was raised still higher, by the formation of a Whig ministry under the happy auspices of the Marquis of Rockingham. But so early as the month of July following, the public hopes, which had been greatly excited, suffered a mournful disappointment, by the death of that upright and patriotic nobleman; followed by the disunion of the Whigs, in consequence of the disingenuous conduct of Lord Shelburne, who accepted the premiership without the smallest communication with his colleagues. Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, and their friends resigned; and the Shelburne administration, including the celebrated William Pitt, was formed.

It may easily be supposed that, if Dr. Parr shared in the general exultation which the former of these events created, that exulting joy was changed by the latter into the deepest sorrow. In a well-known and very extraordinary publication,1 which soon afterwards appeared, he thus with sarcastic severity exposes and censures the new minister, to whom he applies the Grecian name of Doson, because more ready to give than to keep promises.

“The anxious and amiable solicitude of Lælius2 had obtained for him the good-will and affection of all parties. Doson was, therefore, aware that the death of this excellent man would leave a clear and unobstructed field before him. All the faculties of his fruitful soul were exerted; and he finally determined, either to enjoy the glorious success of artifice, or to incur certain ruin. Rejecting, therefore, all communication with his former associates, who might develope his projects, or strenuously resist his ambition, he made “a certain one”3 his confederate in the administration of affairs.”4

Under the Shelburne administration, peace was restored; and come from what quarter it might, to a nation degraded, dispirited, and exhausted, peace was a precious boon: of which even the terms were perhaps as good as, under all circumstances, could have been expected. The Commons’ House, however, passed a vote of disapprobation; and the Shelburne administration was at an end.

1 Preface to Bellendenus. 2 Marquis of Rockingham.

3 Mr. Pitt. 4 Præ. ad Bell. p. 49. Beloe’s Trans, p. 106.

Then succeeded that wonderful phenomenon in the political world—the Coalition ministry; which instantly called forth one general, simultaneous, indescribable burst of mingled astonishment and indignation, from one extremity of the kingdom even to the other. “What a monstrous coalition!” was the universal cry. “The friends associated with the oppressors of America!” and, “The lofty assertors of prerogative united with the worshippers of the majesty of the people!”—Yet even that measure, apparently so abhorrent from all principle and so insulting to all decency, with the zeal of a partisan, Dr. Parr thus unreservedly approves and strenuously defends:

“Whatever objection may have been pointed against the coalition, and however frequently echoed by the tongues of unprincipled men, it will never fix an impression either on Fox or North, forcible enough, to make them repent of having buried their former enmities in oblivion. If their sentiments have in some instances submitted to change, they still defy the imputation of inconstancy. When the state had in a manner expired, from the effects of a calamitous and fatal war; they considered with the cool deliberation of reason, not only what was expedient for the public good, but what was most becoming and honourable for themselves. They were of opinion that the wounds of the late war could then only be healed, when a solid consistent union of all the virtuous could be effected, even by violent means, from the various sentiments and prejudices of a divided and distracted nation. They failed in their object, not from any fault of their own, but from their own ideas of duty, and the peculiar circumstances of the state.”1

Whether or not the praise of pure and patriotic motive be justly attributed to the noble Lord, few will deny it to the illustrious commoner; the whole tenour of whose conduct has amply redeemed this one great error of his political life, by which he lost, so as never completely to regain it, the public confidence. It is needless to add, that an administration, formed in defiance of public opinion, could not stand. The famous India bill was the rock on which it struck; but on which, under other circumstances, it would not have foundered. That bill was chiefly objectionable, in taking away from the East India Company the uncontrolled management of their commercial affairs; in other respects it might challenge a comparison with the rival bill—which owed its success rather to happier fortune than to superior merit. The great plan of Indian policy, proposed by Mr. Fox, is thus approved and defended by Dr. Parr:

“To those who are vehemently angry with Mr. Fox for proposing some novel experiments in an affair, and on an occasion altogether without precedent, I answer in the words of Canuleius—‘Will no circumstances justify innovations? and must those things which have utility for their object not be done, because they have never been done before?’—It is ordained by nature that they, who address themselves to the favour of the

1 Præf. ad Bell. p. 42. Beloe’s Trans, p. 92.

multitude, generally secure it; whilst those, who are endued with greater wisdom, are often listened to with reluctance and disapprobation. In that great change, to which we allude, we cannot but acknowledge that the occasion of exciting odium presented itself. Yet I am well persuaded that they who wished to counteract the dangerous tendency of Asiatic wealth, consulted both for the good and for the glory of their country. We may safely apply to them the words of Claudius—‘Though they acted in opposition to popular prejudice, neither their words nor their actions were inimical to public utility.’”1

After the defeat of the coalition ministry, commenced that administration which so long afterwards maintained its existence, under the auspices of Mr. Pitt—growing in power and flourishing in vigour during an eventful period; but exerting that power and that vigour, in many important respects, most unfavourably to the dearest rights and best interests of the nation. On this occasion, Dr. Parr thus expresses the deep concern, which penetrated and distressed his mind.

“It is irksome, it is painful, to speak of that mad delusion which, attaching itself to the passions of a restless public, employed the basest means to remove from their rank and station three such great and illustrious characters, as Burke, North, and Fox: a delusion which thus deprived the commonwealth of its truest protection and highest ornament. My mind is at this moment oppressed

1 Præf. ad. Bell. p. 40. Beloe’s Trans, p. 85.

with anguish, to recollect how the undivided care of the government was intrusted, not to such persons as I have been describing, but to men, young, new and inexperienced; who, confiding in their numbers, took violent possession of a citadel erected for the noblest purposes. That a mean and malignant multitude persecuted with such incessant bitterness, citizens of known integrity and senators of distinguished wisdom, cannot fail of exciting the wonder of posterity, as it justifies the ridicule of their opponents.”1

Such were the sentiments of Dr. Parr on the political events, which occurred, during the period of his residence at Norwich. They were not such opinions, he was aware, as would be likely to open before him a path to the honours and rewards of his profession. “It has ever been my rule of conduct,” says he, “to follow the impulse of my judgment and my conscience, without any regard to the praise or the censure of others.”2 This is, indeed, the principle of a great and a good mind; but it is not the maxim which must be adopted by him, who aspires to the high dignities and rich endowments of the church. These, alas! have hitherto been most commonly bestowed, not as the reward of learning or piety and virtue, but as the recompense of past, or the bribe of future, political subserviency.

Among the public events of this period—so strongly was the public feeling excited by it—

1 Præf. ad Bell. p. 15. Beloe’s Trans, p. 33.

2 Præf. ad. Bell. p. 57. Beloe’s Trans, p. 124.

may be placed the death of the celebrated Dr. Johnson—whose fame for extent and variety of learning was eclipsed only by the superior splendour, which will for ever irradiate his name, from his successful cultivation of the language, and his numerous and important contributions to the literature, of his country. He was deeply impressed, from his youthful days, with a sincere and solemn sense of religion, and was guided in his actions by the strictest rules of moral conduct, though not, it should seem, without some sad deviations from it.1 He was devoted through life to the pursuits of knowledge, and was almost constantly employed in rendering important services to learning and virtue. He was revered, and, to a certain degree, beloved by those whom he admitted into the intimacies of acquaintance or friendship, among whom were many of the most distinguished men of his time; and was courted and caressed by all the great, the wise, and the good, who could in any way obtain access to him. Though he suffered much, in his earlier years, from the inconveniencies of poverty, sometimes almost pining from absolute want; yet he afterwards rose to circumstances of easy and honourable independence. But with all these sources of elevation and enjoyment, it is lamentable to think that, from a certain constitutional melancholy, he was incapable of estimating at its real worth, or of enjoying in its just degree, the happiness, which even this imperfect state affords; and was unable to look for-

1 See Boswell’s Life of Johnson, vol. i. p. 144, and vol. iv. p. 437.

ward, with much cheering hope, to that higher state of being, which reason encourages, and revelation warrants us, to expect. If, however, his views of life were gloomy, and his anticipating views of death and eternity were too often dreadful; it is some relief to be assured that, as the event of dissolution drew near, his terrifying apprehensions gradually gave way to the influence of religious sentiment; and that he submitted, at length, with pious resignation, to the common lot of humanity. He expired, amidst the deep regrets and the grateful remembrances of the nation, Dec. 15, 1784, in the 75th year of his age.

It must have been at an early period of life that Dr. Parr was introduced to the personal acquaintance of Dr. Johnson; and it is probable that, during his residence at Harrow and Stanmore, interviews were not unfrequent between these two extraordinary men; of whom, it has been often said, that they bore a strong resemblance to each other in person, in manner, in strength of intellect, in variety of knowledge, and in powers of conversation.

As to personal resemblance—this probably consisted chiefly in size and figure, though somewhat perhaps also in the air and attitude, and a little too in the bold contour and oblique position of the head; but not at all in the features or the expression of the face. Dr. Johnson is said to have had a cast of countenance like that of an ancient statue; yet it has always been described1 as peculiarly hard

1 Boswell, Piozzi, Malone, &c.

and rugged; uncouthly marked with scars and cramps; almost constantly shaded with gloom, or soured with ill humour; even to the view of familiar acquaintances, displeasing; and to the eye of the stranger, strongly repulsive. But, in Dr. Parr, the features of countenance, though somewhat broad and harsh, were yet upon the whole agreeable; and the general expression, especially that of his fine grey eyes, thickly overshaded with bushy eyebrows, whilst indicating the energy of powerful intellect, exhibited at the same time much of the soft serenity, and the smiling complacency, which a mind at ease with itself, and a spirit glowing with the warm feelings of benevolence, seldom fail to impart. It was only when he was annoyed by rude intrusion, or when provoked by unreasonable opposition, that his countenance assumed the look of stern severity, or the scowl of angry displeasure, which has been sometimes represented as its natural or usual character.

With respect to the second great point of comparison—beyond all doubt the praise of superiority is due to Dr. Johnson, in native force and gigantic vigour of intellect; and the still higher praise of greater and more successful exertions, directed to the entertainment and instruction of mankind, in all the most pleasing, elegant, and useful departments of literature. But it must be admitted, on the other hand, that for various, extensive, accurate and profound erudition, Dr. Parr is entitled to claim the precedence; and, instead of a comparison, an almost perfect contrast might be drawn, between the low superstition, the weak prejudices, and the contemptible bigotry, by which the mind of the former was narrowed and degraded, and the large and enlightened views, and the just and generous sentiments, by which the mind of the latter was expanded and exalted.

If it be thought that in both these great men there was too much impetuosity and irritability of temper, and if it be said that both were too dictatorial in delivering their opinions, and too impatient in bearing contradiction from others; yet it must be acknowledged that nothing could be more opposite than the petulance, the moroseness, the intolerance, the arrogance, sometimes approaching to insolence, so frequent in Johnson, and the cheerfulness, the sprightliness, the good humour, the kind and courteous manner so habitual in Parr. It is probable that Johnson was feared more than he was loved, even by his intimate friends; it is certain that Parr possessed, in a wonderful degree, the power of attracting to himself the hearts of others;1 and of blending with the respect which his talents and acquirements commanded, a large portion of that affectionate regard, which pleasing and amiable qualities only can inspire. Johnson has been characterised as a “tremendous companion;” but Parr may be truly described as a kind, condescending, engaging associate, in whose presence every one felt himself easy and happy; whose displeasure nothing could seriously provoke but conceited ignorance, and intolerant bigotry, low cunning and base apostacy.

1 ——καί κεινος έπίστροϕοσ ήν άνθρώπων.—Hom. Od.

Of Dr. Parr’s colloquial powers, let the reader take the account of a celebrated female writer, given in a letter to a friend, after having been honoured by him with a visit of two days at Wellesbourne.

“I was prepared to expect extraordinary powers of conversation, but they exceeded every description I had received of them. He is styled the Johnson of the present day. In strength of thought, in promptness and plenteousness of allusion, in wit and humour, in that high-coloured eloquence, which results from poetic imagination, there is a very striking similarity to the departed despot. That, when irritated, he can chastise, with the same overwhelming force, I can believe; but unprovoked, Dr. Parr is wholly free from the caustic acrimony of that splenetic being. Benign rays of ingenuous urbanity dart in his smile, and from beneath the sable shade of his large and masking eyebrows, and from the fine orbs they overhang. The characters he draws of distinguished people, and of such of his friends whose talents, though not yet emerged, are considerable, are given with a free, discriminating, and masterly power, and with general independence of party prejudices. If he throws into the deepest shade the vices of those, whose heart he thinks corrupt, his spirit luxuriates in placing the virtues and abilities of those he esteems, in the fairest and the fullest lights; a gratification which the gloomy Johnson seldom if ever knew.”1

Another point, rather indeed of contrast than

1 Miss Seward’s Letters.

comparison, is so important, that it ought not to be passed without distinct notice. According to the confession of all his friends and biographers,1 Dr. Johnson too often allowed himself to play the part of the ingenious sophist, or the subtle disputant; taking up all questions indifferently; maintaining the right side and the wrong, with equal warmth and equal pertinacity; so eager for superiority, and so ardent for victory, in every contest, as to bear down his opponent, without the least regard to truth, fairness, or decency. Thus, it was impossible to determine, even when the great moralist appeared most serious in delivering, and most vehement in asserting, an opinion, whether he was speaking from the sincere convictions of his mind, or merely talking for the pleasure of contradicting others, or of exhibiting before them his intellectual prowess and his logical dexterity.

From this lamentable error, into which men of talents and eloquence are too easily betrayed, the writer feels much satisfaction in recording that Dr. Parr was entirely exempt; and though he would sometimes, perhaps improperly, conceal, yet never was he known to belie, his real sentiments. With all his powers of conversation, and all his love of display, he was conscientiously careful to assert no fact, which he did not believe, at the time, and to advance no opinion, which he did not sincerely adopt. The too common practice of embellishing truth with fiction, or of resorting, in the defence of it, to artifice and misrepre-

1 Boswell, Piozzi, Towers, &c.

sentation, he utterly abjured. Even fair advantages he would often forbear to press against a feeble adversary; and he ever regarded with scorn that mode of disputation, which logicians call argumentum ad ignorantiam.

It still remains to be said of the two great intellectual luminaries, so often brought into comparison, that they were both capable, perhaps in an equal degree, of the fond attachments of friendship; that both were deeply touched with compassionate feeling for the distress, and with benevolent sympathy in the happiness of others; and that both were ever delighted in the performance of acts of humanity and kindness towards those, whether friends or strangers, who solicited or needed them.

That Dr. Parr obtained, at an early period, a place in the good opinion of Dr. Johnson, appears from the circumstance, that to his powerful recommendation, Dr. Parr was chiefly indebted for his appointment to the mastership of the Norwich Grammar School. Indeed he has often been heard to speak of their friendly interviews, even before that time; of which one instance occurs to the writer’s recollection. This was in 1777, when Bishop Pearce’s “Commentary, with Notes, on the Four Gospels,” was published, to which the well-known “Dedication,” written by Dr. Johnson, was prefixed. Calling soon afterwards upon him, Dr. Parr mentioned that he had been reading, with great delight, his dedication to the king.—“My dedication!” exclaimed Dr. Johnson; “how do you know it is mine?” “For two reasons,” replied Dr. Parr: “the first, because it is worthy of you; the second, because you only could write it.”

On another occasion, being in private with Dr. Johnson, as he loved to relate, the great principles of civil rights and liberties became the subject of discussion; when the advocate of arbitrary maxims of government avowed sentiments very different from those which he had publicly maintained in his writings—such as are far more worthy of an enlightened philosopher and a free-born Englishman. Alluding to that conversation, Dr. Parr used to say, expressing himself, in his own strong language, “If ever man talked rebelliously, that man was Sam. Johnson.”—“But,” added he, with an arch leer and significant nod, “he was not then writing a book.”

The following is Mr. Boswell’s account, so often referred to, of an interview which took place between Dr. Johnson and Dr. Parr, some time in 1780.

“Having spent an evening at Mr. Langton’s with the Rev. Dr. Parr, he was much pleased with the company of that learned gentleman; and he afterwards said to Mr. Langton, “Sir, I am obliged to you for having asked me this evening. Parr is a fair man. I do not know when I have had an occasion of such free controversy. It is remarkable how much of a man’s life may pass without meeting with any instance of this kind of open discussion.”1

1 Boswell’s account, as Dr. Parr always said, is, in one instance incorrect, and in another imperfect. For this was by no means his first introduction to Dr. Johnson, as the account

“I remember that interview well,” said Dr. Parr—with great vehemence—when once reminded of it; “I gave him no quarter. The subject of our dispute was the liberty of the press. Dr. Johnson was very great. Whilst he was arguing, I observed that he stamped. Upon this, I stamped. Dr. Johnson said, Why did you stamp, Dr. Parr?—I replied, Because you stamped; and I was resolved not to give you the advantage even of a stamp in the argument.”1

The great delight with which, on all occasions that offered, Dr. Parr sought and maintained a friendly intercourse with the dissenting clergy, has already been distinctly noticed. Much clamorous objection having been raised against this part of his conduct, particularly as it respected his personal acquaintance with the highly distinguished, but greatly injured, Dr. Priestley; in a public vin-

seems to represent; and it omits all mention of some expressions which were uttered by Dr. Johnson of dislike to Dr. Parr, as an ardent and inflexible Whig; and which, whilst they discovered the narrow views and the intolerant spirit of the great Tory, bore honourable testimony, as Dr. Parr thought, to the firmness and the intrepidity with which he had asserted his own principles, even in the presence of so fierce and so powerful an opponent. “What pity,” exclaimed Johnson, “that such a man and such a scholar as Parr should be a Whig!” Something like the same littleness of spirit betrays itself, it may be recollected, in the concluding words of Johnson’s life of Watts: “Happy will be the reader, whose mind is disposed by his verses, or his prose, to imitate him in all but his non-conformity, to copy his benevolence to man, and his reverence to God.”

1 “Dr. Parr is allowed to have been the only man, who brought equal forces with Dr. Johnson into the field of argument, equal strength of native talent, equal learning, equal eloquence, equal wit, and equal effrontery. The day is re-

dication of himself, among other considerations, he stated and asserted the following fact—that “Dr. Johnson himself endured, and almost solicited, an interview with Dr. Priestley.” The assertion was regarded as a gross imputation upon the character of Dr. Johnson by his biographer, Mr. Boswell, who publicly and peremptorily denied the truth of it. The denial speedily called forth a reply from Dr. Parr, in a letter to the editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine;1 in which he repeated his assertion, and produced the most convincing evidence in its support, principally from the testimony of Mr. Rogers the poet, and Dr. Edward Johnstone of Birmingham. Mr. Boswell, however, remained unconvinced, and threatened a rejoinder; but his intention was frustrated by his death. There are few readers of these pages, it is apprehended, who will not be fully satisfied by the following short and simple statement from Dr. Priestley himself. Referring to the false report, much circulated at that time, that Dr. Johnson, at Oxford, left a company upon Dr. Priestley’s being introduced into it, he says—“We were never, in fact, at Oxford at the same time; and the only interview I ever had with him, was at Mr. Paradise’s, where we dined together, at his own request. He was particularly civil to me; and promised to call upon me the next time he should goto Birmingham.”2

corded, in which they measured their lances as chieftains of the Whig and Tory party. Never, it is said, was known such intellectual gladiatorship.”—Miss Seward’s Letters.

1 Vol. lxv. p. 179.

2 Priestley’s “Appeal to the Public,” &c. part 2. p. 103.

When it was determined to erect a monument, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, to the honour of one of the great scholars and the greatest English writer of his age, the task of composing the inscription was assigned, by the public wish and voice, to Dr. Parr; who, however, on its first proposal, shrunk with awe from the arduous undertaking. In writing to a friend, he thus expresses himself: “I must leave this mighty task to some hardier and some abler hand. The variety and the splendour of Johnson’s attainments, the peculiarity of his character, his private virtues, and his literary publications, fill me with confusion and dismay, when I reflect on the confined and difficult species of composition in which alone they can be expressed on his monument.”

Afterwards, however, repeated solicitations prevailed; and the difficult, as well as important task was undertaken by him; though, in the execution of it, he complained that its difficulties were increased, by the improper interference and the unreasonable objections of others. One expression in particular—“poetæ probabili”—though strictly classical, and, as he thought, exactly appropriate, he was obliged to reject, in deference to the opinion of Johnson’s admirers, who deemed it not sufficiently laudatory; and to substitute, instead of it, another more satisfactory to them, but injurious, in the opinion of many critics and in his own, to the effect of the whole composition. “The blockheads,” said he, “made me spoil my epitaph:” appealing, at the same time, in support of his opinion, to the authority of several great scholars; and among others, to Sir Wm. Scott, the present Lord Stowell, of whose deep learning, sound judgment, and exquisite taste, he held the highest opinion; and whom he has himself characterised in his favourite language, as του βαθύφρονος χαί σώφρονος.1

It is well known, that Dr. Parr, at one time, had formed the serious intention of writing the life of Dr. Johnson; and had not only arranged the plan, but had entered on the execution of the work. Of this he often spoke to his friends. “If I had continued it,” said he, on one occasion, “it would have been the best work I ever wrote. I should have related not only every thing important about Dr. Johnson, but many things about the men who flourished at the same time;” adding, with an expression of sly humour, “taking care to display my own learning.”—“Dr. Johnson,” he said, “was an admirable scholar; and would have had high reputation for mere learning, if his reputation for intellect and eloquence had not overshadowed it: the classical scholar was forgotten in the great original contributor to the literature of his country.”2

On another occasion, speaking on the same subject—“I once intended to write Johnson’s Life; and I had read through three shelves of books to prepare myself for it. It would have contained a view of the literature of Europe:” and—making an apology for the proud consciousness which he felt of his own ability—“if I had written it,” continued he, “it would have been the third most learned work that has ever yet ap-

1 Spital Sermon, notes, p. 111.

2 Blackwood’s Magazine, Oct. 1825. See App. No. II

peared.” To explain himself, he afterwards added, “The most learned work ever published, I consider Bentley “on the Epistles of Phalaris;” the next, Salmasius on the Hellenistic language.”1

On a third occasion, describing the nature of his intended work, and alluding to Boswell’s Life of Johnson, he said, “Mine should have been, not the droppings of his lips, but the history of his mind.”2

1 “Salmasii de Hellenistica Commentarius. In point of curious learning, I assign to this book the next place to Bentley upon Phalaris. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 699.—Being once asked how it could be that Salmasius should appear so great in one of his works, and so little in another—his defence of the Stuarts in answer to Milton?—Dr. Parr replied, “He then wrote as a hireling; he was not interested in the cause.”

2 “The following useful, and some of them scarce, books, from Falster to Colomesius (34 in number), were, many years ago, read, and laid by in a particular part of Dr. Parr’s library, for the special purpose of being used by him, when he intended, upon a very large scale, to write the life of Dr. Johnson. He meant also to employ the letters of learned men to a great extent: the writings of Bembo, Politian, and other Italian scholars; the Parrhasiana of Le Clerc, with the Poggiana, Casauboniana, &c.; the Polyhistor of Mornofius, and one of his critical works; various writings upon criticism, and De Ratione Studiorum; some parts of Scioppius, D. Heinsius, and Salmasius De Lingua Hellenistica; with some critical works of H. Stephens; the Optucula Theologica et Philologica of Ernesti; some Academica Opera of Heyne; Placcius De Scriptoribus Anonymis; and various other works, critical or historical, mentioned in this catalogue. He just now remembers the Aristarchus of Vossius; a work of Maussacus, subjoined to the edition of Harpocration, entitled Historia Rei Criticæ, and Jonsius De Vitis Philosophorum. He will ever have to lament that, amidst his cares, his sorrows, and his wants, he did not write the life of his learned and revered friend.”—Bibl. Parr.

CHAPTER XIII. A. D. 1780—1782. Dr. Parr’s first publications—Sermon delivered in Norwich Cathedral, on Christmas-day—First Discourse on Education, preached in behalf of the Norwich Charity-schools—Second Discourse—A Fast Sermon.

The earliest, and, if the present writer might venture to give his opinion, he would almost venture to add, the best of Dr. Parr’s publications, were two sermons, which appeared in 1780. They were printed together, though the subjects are not connected. They are rather argumentative than declamatory. The style is clear, rich, and nervous; often ornamented, and sometimes rising into a high strain of fervid and impressive eloquence. Whilst, however, it displays the excellencies, it discovers also the faults of Dr. Parr’s composition; especially in the want of variety, and in the excessive use of antithesis.

Of these two discourses, the former, from Gal. iv. 4.—preached in the cathedral at Norwich, on Christmas-day, 1779—offers a full and forcible reply to the objection urged against Christianity, founded on the three following circumstances—its late appearance, its partial propagation, and its imperfect efficacy. The questions bearing on these several points are clearly stated; the argument is closely and ably conducted; and the conclusions are, in every instance, fairly drawn and powerfully enforced.

The discourse opens with some general observations, chiefly taken from Butler’s Analogy; tending to show that the partial dispensation of Christianity is a circumstance, exactly accordant to the unequal distribution of good and evil throughout the whole system of creation; and that it is, therefore, no more an objection to the truth of revelation in the one case, than it is to the doctrine of providence in the other.

Proceeding from general remarks to the more particular examination of the objections proposed, the preacher first considers that which is pointed against the late publication of Christianity. The objection would, indeed, be unanswerable upon the supposition, that this revelation is necessary to the salvation of those to whom it is not made known. But a supposition so strange and so revolting, the preacher is too wise and too pious for a moment to admit. “We do not say,” he observes, “for we are neither required nor authorised to say, that Christianity is indispensably necessary to the salvation of those to whom it is not communicated. They will assuredly be judged according to the use of one talent, to whom it was not the will of God to intrust more.”

Respecting man’s inability to judge of the time, or the degree, in which it may become the Supreme Being to interpose, either for the prevention or the removal of evil, it is observed:

“Why evil exists?—from what fountain it springs?—and through what channels it is conveyed? are questions, about which we are more forward to inquire, than able to decide. Yet, surely, if the attributes of God can be vindicated, in the permission of vice; that vindication will extend to the gradual removal of it. Equally wise, no doubt, though most of them unknown to us, are the reasons, for which evil was suffered to enter into the world, or was checked in its course at one time rather than another.”

To show that, according to our best conceptions, there could not well have been a fitter time, than the time actually chosen for the first introduction of Christianity, the preacher takes a slight review of the state of the Jewish and Heathen nations; and, having supported his position by a variety of just and important considerations, he proceeds to the second objection, drawn from the circumstance of partial propagation. Here, he begins with observing, that both this and the former objection presuppose the excellence of the Christian scheme; for, if it be not calculated to correct the morals, and to promote the happiness of mankind, why should we be offended either that it was not more early published, or is not more widely disseminated?

The common way of stating the question respecting the partial distribution of Christian blessings is objected to. “It should not be asked—will God be kind to you, and unkind to another?—but, will he be more kind to you, than he has been to another?”1 To the objection thus brought forward, it is answered:—

1 Even this way of speaking seems liable to objection. There may be the same kind intention, and the same desire to promote happiness, both in granting and in withholding

“Has not the Deity made a difference between brutes and men? yet he is the wise Creator and Preserver of both. Has he not bestowed upon men the external materials of earthly good, and the internal capacity of using them in different degrees? yet he is the just Governor of all. If, then, intending some of his moral agents for less felicity in another life, he leave them to reason; and, at the same time, confer the aids of revelation upon those who are intended for greater felicity, he is still the righteous Judge of all. And shall our eye be evil, because the eye of our Maker is good?”

In reply to the third objection, taken from the imperfect efficacy of Christianity, it is observed:

“The premises admit that Christianity has been useful, in some degree; the conclusion affirms, that it ought to be rejected, because not so in the highest degree. Apply the same mode of reasoning to other cases. Civilisation has not reached its utmost perfection; and, therefore, we ought to return in haste to a state of barbarism. He that can leap from such premises to such a conclusion, has no right to complain of credulity in his opponents.”

The positive good effects of Christianity are

certain advantages, under different circumstances. Why should not the question be stated thus? “May not the Supreme Disposer, without any impeachment of his wisdom and goodness, place some of his creatures higher, and others lower, in the scale of being? and in like manner, may he not grant to some of his creatures, of the same order, more advantages, to others less?”

then distinctly and forcibly pointed out—in diminishing or removing some of the greatest evils in the social and the moral state of man—and in promoting the peace, the order, the improvement, and all the best interests of men and of nations. In this part of his discourse, the language of the preacher breathes the warmth and the energy, in a high degree, of religious gratitude and benevolent joy.

The following passage is quoted to show how early the mind of Dr. Parr was impressed with just and noble sentiments on that most important subject—toleration.

“That spirit must finally give new dignity and new stability to the cause of truth, as it fosters the freedom of inquiry; as it tempers the zeal which darkens knowledge; as it stimulates the industry which acquires it; and, above all, as it enlarges the sphere of charity—that celestial virtue which, in religious concerns, where it claims the pre-eminence, has been too long crampt and depressed, and of which every solitary instance, in times less enlightened, was lamented as a weakness, or condemned as a crime.”

The whole subject is summed up and concluded, with great force and great animation, in the following passages:—

“Though God had for many ages delayed the appearance of his Son, he, in the fulness of time, came forth. Though many obstacles have, in our apprehension, impeded the cause of revelation, it has spread itself over no inconsiderable part of the world. Though a variety of causes have ob-scured its lustre and counteracted its influence, the effects of it have been sufficiently extensive and sufficiently beneficial to interest our attention, to excite our gratitude, and to warrant our faith. The tide of human affairs, which before and after the publication of the Gospel has been secretly controuled by the providence of God, and invariably directed to the known and unknown purposes which he had in view, is, in these later ages, apparently turning in favour of Christianity. Mutually assisting, and assisted by other causes—by the cultivation of polite learning, and the more profound sciences, by experiments in natural philosophy, and researches in moral—by the steady exercise and humane temper of laws—by the liberal and enlarged principles of civil government—the Gospel is making new progress. The expectation of every worthy man may be innocently employed upon the prospect of some happy period, when the belief of our holy religion shall be universal, and its efficacy shall be complete. His efforts may, at least, be laudably exerted in accelerating that momentous event; by which the cavils of unbelievers will be put to silence, and by which the knowledge and the love of God will be deeply fixed in the hearts of all Christians, through all ages, and in all nations.”

The other sermon, from Heb. xiii. 16, preached at St. Peter’s Mancroft, in behalf of the Norwich Charity Schools, on Good Friday, 1780, is a full and masterly discussion of the question—whether knowledge should be communicated in any consi-derable degree, to the poor?—a question which has, of late years, so much and so deservedly engaged and fixed the public attention. By taking, in the present and in a succeeding discourse, the affirmative side of the question, Dr. Parr has entitled himself to the honour of being ranked amongst the earliest advocates of popular education; and of those, who have since appeared in support of the same cause, few have stated more clearly the duty, or pressed more cogently the obligation, of opening the sources of knowledge in no scanty measure, to the lower classes of the community; few have anticipated with more benevolent delight, its important effects in the vast increase of individual and social order, virtue, and happiness.

With what sarcastic severity, at the outset of his discourse, does he meet the opposers of public instruction, in the following passage!—

“From what source do their objections rise? Do they spring from real pity to the poor, whom knowledge is said to quicken to a more poignant sense of their misery? or, from real concern for the welfare of the community? which, as some men affirm, is always injured, when the poor presume to feel their wants, and to exert the means of relieving them. No! they rather proceed from the vanity of some, who affect to startle at the difficulties which elude common observation; from the hypocrisy of others, who would disguise their own insensibility to the sufferings of individuals, under the mask of solicitude for the public welfare; and from the selfish pride of more, who wickedly resist every liberal plan of improvement for their infe-riors, as an invasion of those privileges, which wealth is too apt to arrogate to itself.”

It may perhaps be thought difficult for its friends to decide to what extent popular education should be carried? On this point the preacher thus judiciously delivers his opinion:

“That degree of knowledge is far too little, we may say with confidence, when the poor are left in a state of profound ignorance concerning their civil rights, their social and religious duties, and their best interests both in this world and the next. It is too great, when their minds are swollen with insolence and vanity; when their curiosity is sent out upon the wing in quest of the very sublime or the very ornamental parts of learning; when their attention steals away from the occupations on which they depend for their livelihood, and is squandered upon points of trifling and unprofitable amusement. But from evils, so remotely consequential, so faintly probable, experience leaves us little to dread.”

The wisdom of communicating even political knowledge to the lower classes is thus maintained:

“Be the abilities of men naturally strong or weak, they are pushed on, by a kind of mechanical impulse, to form some judgment upon public questions, which yet they do not understand in their fullest extent. Unless, therefore, a decision, built upon scanty information be inferior to that which is built upon none, the assistance of education is not employed in vain, where it enables the poor to acquire some few materials for knowledge, and to arrange them with some little degree of ex-actness. If the wishes of those, who would bar up every avenue to knowledge against the lower and the busier orders of the community, were realised, the greater part of our species would be degraded to the most abject and servile condition; where inquietude might prey upon the vitals of morality, or despondency crush every mental power, by which the man is distinguished from the brute.”

How just from any man! how generous from a learned man!—the following sentiments:—

“For my part, I have too much respect for the collective happiness of the human species, to wish for a monopoly of knowledge, in any one profession, or in any one rank of men. So anxious is my concern for the poor, that I would not, without the most urgent necessity, expose them even to the possibility of suffering in their faith, in their morals, and in their rights, from the artifices of men, who, if they did not mean to abuse knowledge, would hardly wish to engross it.”

With one extract more, on the necessity and importance of religious instruction, the account of this admirable discourse must close:—

“That religion, in which the young man should be educated, is in all respects accommodated to his situation in life. The doctrines of it will preserve him from the extravagances of fanaticism, and the terrors of superstition, to which the poor are particularly exposed. The precepts of it tend to convert that churlishness of disposition, so frequently imputed to the lower orders, into an instrument of every sterner virtue—of perseverance in labour, of resolution amidst dangers, of hardiness under adversity. The promises of it will support him under the pressure of many secret afflictions, which the rich seldom discover, and sometimes cannot relieve. Taught by this religion to look up from his earthly benefactor, to a more gracious Benefactor in heaven, he is kept steady in the paths of virtue; and by that steadiness, the interests of the community, and the happiness of the individual, are, in the most effectual manner, secured and promoted.”

This first discourse on education was followed, in 1782, by a second and a still larger discourse on the same subject, which contains remarks on the best modes of instruction, with a view chiefly to the lower orders; but applicable, in a considerable degree, to the case of all. It is a discourse of no common excellence; and, if it cannot be said that the author has advanced much that is absolutely new, yet it must be acknowledged that he has pursued his subject into all its various ramifications, and entered into all its practical details, with great acuteness and great accuracy. Its undue length, as a pulpit-oration, cannot be urged as an objection to the perusal of it by the reader at his own leisure.

The discourse, of which the text is, Prov. xxii. 6, opens with some remarks on proverbial writings, in general, and on the Proverbs of Solomon in particular. They are just and ingenious; and the only objection to them is, that they are not necessary to the subject; and that they lengthen a discourse, which would be too long without them.

After having noticed and reprobated the opinions of Rousseau and Mandeville, who both assert, though for different reasons, that education is more injurious than beneficial; the preacher proposes the following division of his subject; 1st, The efficacy of education; 2d, The general objects of it; 3d, The particular case of charity schools.

Under the first head, among other important remarks, occur the following, in which it is easy to trace the principles of philosophical necessity, guiding and influencing the views of the writer:

“When persons have been trained up in a constant and sincere regard to their religious and social duties, sensibility in time anticipates the suggestions of reason, and passion faintly resists the dictate of conscience; the general course of life is almost mechanically exact; our best volitions are formed without anxious deliberations; and our best deeds are performed without painful effort.”

The following reflections, on the seeming inefficacy, but real advantage, of early education, are excellent:

“The good seed, though oppressed, is not totally destroyed. The blossoms are partially nipped, but the soundness of the soil yet remains. Even the first approaches, which persons virtuously educated, make to guilt, are attended with a shame and a compunction, to which men of gross ignorance are utterly callous; and when the heat of youth has, in some measure, spent itself, Reason gradually resumes her seat; and Religion, in a voice which cannot but be heard, reasserts her violated rights.”

The general advantages of education are admirably summed up in the following passage, in which the classical reader will recognise an imitation of a well-known and much-admired sentence of Cicero:1

“To our boyhood, wise and virtuous education gives that sweet simplicity and innocence, which melts every serious beholder into affection, and relieves even the savage heart with a momentary feeling of honest approbation. In our youth, it inspires us with such a fine sense of decorum, as makes us shrink from folly with scorn, and from vice with loathing; and it animates us, at the same time, with that unwearied activity of mind, which struggles with every difficulty, and triumphs over every danger. Our manhood it distinguishes by that firmness and dignity of thinking, which exalts us from one degree of excellence to another; which causes us to start at the smallest deviation from moral rectitude, and impels us to recover from the shock, by the instantaneous and determined exertion of our whole strength. To old age, which is itself the fruit of a well-spent life, it gives a serenity of mind, which the world can neither bestow, nor take away—a deep and sincere love of virtue, which finds a pure and perpetual source of pleasure in the effects it has wrought on the tempers and manners of our friends and our children—a comfortable remembrance of habitual well-doing, which alone can endear to us the days that are passed, and will return no more, or enable us to

1 Hæc studia adolescentiam alunt, &c.—Cic. Orat. pro Archia Poetæ.

look on to the approach of an unknown world, without solicitude and without dismay.”

Treating, under the second head, of the great objects of moral education, the preacher insists earnestly on the importance of inculcating the government of the passions—the sense of shame—the love of truth—habits of diligence—and a filial reverence of the Deity. On all these topics, many wise reflections are offered, to guide the judgment, and many useful rules are proposed, to direct the practice.

In stating, under the third head, his particular remarks, applicable to charity-schools, Dr. Parr again appears as the enlightened and zealous advocate of popular education; and recapitulates and urges anew many of the arguments, which he had before advanced in its favour. He maintains, by strong reasoning, clothed in forcible language, the importance of charity-schools in general, and bestows great praise upon those of Norwich in particular; in which some wise and well-considered plans seem to have been adopted, and vigorously and successfully pursued. Towards the close of his discourse, he enters, rather fully, into the consideration of female education, as it respects more especially the lower classes in the social order. Here he displays the same enlarged and enlightened views, as in every other part of his great subject; and warmly applauds the extended plans of mental and moral cultivation, which are adapted to a more improved state of human society, and which cannot fail, in their happy results, to give greater usefulness and consequence to the female charac-ter in every condition of life, without impairing its amiable qualities, or diminishing its pleasing attractions.

The following is the solemn and dignified conclusion of the whole discourse:

“It remains for me to address you with the solemnity of a preacher, who is speaking in the presence of his God, upon measures of which that God approves, and with the earnestness of a fellow-creature, whose face upon any similar occasion you will hereafter see no more. I therefore appeal to your humanity, this last time, for the sake of those innocent children, who now stand before you; and I make that appeal in the name of Jesus Christ, who died to save both you and them. I exhort you, upon every principle of social utility and religious obligation, not to be weary in well-doing. I pour forth my unfeigned thanks to Almighty God for the charitable disposition, with which he has hitherto inspired you, and for the numerous benefits, which have already resulted from your pious endeavours. I conclude with my fervent prayer, that these children may never depart from the way, in which they should go; and that their successors, who in future ages shall be trained up by the followers of your venerable example, may ever continue in habits of diligence in their callings, of peace and sobriety in their families, and of gratitude to their benefactors; or, to speak in other and better words, that they may live in a state of constant preparation for the tribunal of that Being, who once appeared upon earth, “to preach his gospel to the poor;” and who will assuredly exalt both them and their protectors to everlasting glory in the kingdom of his Father.”

To the second discourse on education a considerable number of notes is added, learned, elegant, and admirably adapted to the purposes of pleasing or useful illustration, for which they are intended.

A fourth sermon, published at Norwich, still remains to be noticed. It is entitled “A Discourse on the late Fast, by Phileleutheros Norfolciensis,” 1781. Of this, which the author himself pronounced to be his best composition, the present writer regrets that he has not been able to procure a sight. The whole impression, consisting of 450 copies, was sold within two months after its first appearance; and it is now a work of extraordinary rarity. On the writer’s application to the executors of Dr. Parr’s will, for permission to peruse their copy, it was instantly and kindly granted by Dr. J. Johnstone; but it was afterwards refused by his co-executor, the Rev. John Lines, rector of Elmley Lovett. To that refusal—in which it may be thought hard to discover the liberality of the scholar, or the courtesy of the gentleman—the reader of these pages must impute whatever disappointment he may feel in receiving, instead of a more full account, the following concise report from the Monthly Review:1

“This is by far the most masterly discourse, which has been published, on the late occasion. A vein of deep philosophical reasoning and political

1 Vol. lxv. p. 319. O. S.

speculation runs through it, and renders it more calculated for the closet than the pulpit; more fit to be read by the judicious, than to be heard by a common assembly. Sometimes, indeed, the author rises into declamation; that species of declamation which, while it rouses the imagination, does not offend the judgment; but, supported by good sense, and animated by elegant language, equally affects the heart and convinces the understanding.”

“The chief design of this discourse is, to correct false and delusive opinions respecting the nature and extent of divine judgments; to prove that government is the medium through which the Deity conveys punishment to a wicked and reward to a righteous people; and that between the misfortunes and the demerits of a nation there is always an intimate connexion, yea, ultimately, an exact proportion.”1

1 “‘Bishop Beadon’s Sermon before the Lords, 1793.’ I suspect that before writing this sermon he had been busy with ‘Phileleutheros Norfolciensis.’ S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 573.

CHAPTER XIV. A.D. 1786—1789. Dr. Parr’s settlement at Hatton—His parsonage-house—His library—Catalogue of his books—His plan of private tuition—His attention to his pastoral duties—His appointment to a prebend in St. Paul’s—Exchange of Hatton curacy for Waddenhoe rectory.

After remaining nearly seven years at Norwich, Dr. Parr was induced to think of once more changing the place of his abode; and having maturely weighed all circumstances, he finally determined, towards the close of 1785, to remove from that city, and to fix his residence at Hatton, of which parish he had been appointed the perpetual curate some time before. He was led to adopt this resolution principally with the view of relinquishing his laborious occupation, as the head of a public school, from which he had derived no adequate pecuniary recompense; and of adopting, instead of it, the plan of private tuition, from which it was his hope to obtain equal or greater remuneration, at a less expense of time and exertion.

With what satisfaction he had passed so many years of his life at Norwich, and with what reluctance he now withdrew from it, may be inferred from the following passage, which occurs towards the close of his second “Discourse on Education.” “From my arduous employment among you as an instructor of youth, I thought it incumbent upon me not to treat the great subject of instruction itself, in a light or shallow manner; and from my unshaken attachment to the best interests of a city, in which I have lived, let me hope, without dishonour, and which I shall not leave without regret, I am sincerely happy in this opportunity of bearing a most open and most decided testimony to the wisdom of your regulations and the rectitude of your motives.”1

It was always, indeed, a source of pleasure to Dr. Parr to look back to this period of his life; during which, he said, it was his lot to enjoy, more than at any other period, the delights, which social intercourse, in its higher refinement, affords. Frequently has the writer heard him exultingly talk of the cultivation of mind, and the liberality of sentiment, which marked the general character of society at Norwich and in Norfolk;2 and as frequently has he deplored the great inferiority, in these respects, which struck his view, on coming into Warwickshire; and which placed this county far lower, he thought, in the scale of intellectual and moral improvement. But a happy change has of late years taken place; the increasing knowledge of the times, with all its beneficial effects, has extended itself into Warwickshire, and has done much to relieve it from the reproach often cast upon it by Dr. Parr, of being the “Bœotia of England.”3

1 Discourse on Education, p. 70.

2 “Tell Mrs. P. that I am more and more convinced of the superior intellectual powers of the men of Norfolk.”—Letter from Dr. Parr to a friend in Warwickshire.

3 “O Johnny!” says Dr. Parr, writing from Norfolk to a friend in Warwickshire, “here are fine doings—wholly, wholly, wholly unlike those of your senseless and almost worthless county. Pray tell Mr. K. all my movements, and make him

He used, indeed, frequently to protest to the writer and to many others, that, had he known but of one half the number of “the boobies” and “the bigots,”1 swarming, as he found, through the county, never would he have stepped within its boundaries. He often vehemently complained of the reception which he met, on his first coming among those—whom, presumptuous as they were—almost as soon as they opened their lips, he declared,—“Bœotûm in crasso jurares aëre natos.” “Sometimes they boldly bounced upon him,” he said, “demanding, as if from authority, the articles of his political or religious creed. Sometimes they stole in slyly, and with all the arts of a busy and bitter inquisitor, endeavoured to pry into his opinions, and to draw out confessions, capable of being turned to their own purposes.”—“I was obliged,” said he, “to resist firmly—to declaim loudly—and to talk and talk, till, at last, I talked them down.”

Having, in January 1786, resigned the mastership of Norwich School, and bidden adieu to the friendly circle, with which he had been so long and so agreeably connected; Dr. Parr removed, in the following month of April, to Hatton; where, from this time, through the course of almost forty years, he constantly resided; and where, in the enjoyment of a healthful and happy old age, he closed his days.

understand them clearly, in your foggy atmosphere for the intellect.”

1 These are excellently well associated together in the memorable preface to Jortin’s “Remarks on Ecclesiastical History,” p. 22.

Hatton, or, according to Dugdale, “Heath-town,” so called from an extensive heathy tract near it, is a small retired village, situated upon a considerable eminence, at the distance of four miles from Warwick, on the high road leading from that town to Birmingham. It is a village of few resources for the convenience of the inhabitant, and of little attraction for the eye of the traveller. The country, however, in almost every direction, is pleasant and fertile; shaded with a profusion of trees, many of large size and luxuriant growth; and presenting from the brow of its hill, on the south, an extensive prospect over a rich and beautiful tract, well cultivated and well wooded; in the midst of which, Warwick rears its proud towers and battlements; and round which, a circuit of hills, at some distance, gently rise, shutting in the view on every side, except to the north-east corner, where it extends into Northamptonshire; and to the north-west, where it stretches over a vast expanse, terminated by the Worcestershire and Gloucestershire hills.

Formerly, on the summit of Hatton Hill stood a windmill; and as Dr. Parr was sitting on one of its lower steps, on a fine day early in the summer of 1790, enjoying this fine prospect, clad in a flowered-damask morning gown, with a pipe in his hand, the present writer had the pleasure of seeing, for the first time, that extraordinary man, whose good opinion and friendly regards he must ever consider as among the proudest and happiest distinctions of his life. Though not then introduced in form, he well remembers that the reception he met with was kind and gratifying.

At a short distance from the road, separated from it by a small garden and a slight fence, stands the parsonage-house, built of brick, presenting a plain, unassuming appearance, rising only to the height of two stories. It offers, however, more accommodation within, than its modest exterior might seem to promise; as it was much enlarged and improved by its late illustrious tenant.

On the ground-floor are the three principal apartments; the first, to the right, a small breakfast-room; the second, to the left, a drawing-room of scanty dimensions. The former was filled with books, the overflowings of the library; the latter, suitably furnished, was hung round with numerous prints, chiefly the portraits of literary men. Among these were, Thomas Twining, Thomas and Joseph Warton, Fox, Sheridan, General Washington, General Green, Paine, Buonaparte, Gibbon, Paley, Gilbert Wakefield, George Walker, the celebrated Porson, the highly-distinguished Sir Samuel Romilly, and the deeply-lamented Francis Horner.

Formerly, in this illustrious assemblage, conspicuously appeared Mr. Burke. But when, during the alarms of the French Revolution, he not only renounced, but opposed and even vilified the great principles of constitutional freedom, of which he had once been the powerful advocate, his picture was suspended in an inverted position; and, after some time, it was entirely removed. A similar indignity was once offered to the picture of Dr. Paley; who, during the same period of absurd and exaggerated alarm, had exposed himself by his conduct, especially in publishing his “Reasons for Contentment,” to the suspicion of inconsistency or insincerity. But this was afterwards restored to its right position, and suffered to retain its allotted place. Whilst, however, he always did ample justice to Paley’s extraordinary merits as a writer, Dr. Parr never could be persuaded to think favourably of the man.1

1 “I never thought Paley an honest man. He could not afford, forsooth, to keep a conscience; and he had none. He had great sagacity, wit, and science, some good-humour; but he was vain, inconsistent, * * * and selfish. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 672.—It is deeply to be regretted that a condemnatory sentence, expressed in terms so severe and so unqualified, should have been left recorded by the pen of Dr. Parr; especially unsupported as it is by any sufficient or satisfactory evidence, yet made known to the public. It is equally to be regretted, on the other hand, that by talking in an improper and unguarded manner, even on the most important subjects, and by speaking jocularly when he ought only to have spoken seriously, Dr. Paley has exposed himself so much to the suspicion of insincerity. Some disclosures, unfavourable to his credit, have lately been put forth to the public view in a periodical work of high repute, (New Monthly Mag. Jan. 1827.) which are said to rest on the testimony of one of his friends, a gentleman of unquestionable veracity and candour. That gentleman was known to Dr. Parr, by whom, in a recent publication, (Bibl. Parr. p. 567.) he is thus mentioned: “He is a very good scholar. He became conscientiously a member of the Church of Rome; and honourably resigned his fellowship at Magdalen College, Oxford.” But must the blow be suffered to strike home, so fatal to the honour of a name, dear, as that of Paley, to the English public? Are there no means of shielding from it the reputation of a man and a writer, whose reputation is closely connected with the interests of that religion which he has powerfully defended, and of that morality which he has in general, though not in every instance, wisely and ably explained and enforced? May we not reasonably and charitably hope, that the many expressions which fell from the lips of Dr. Paley—and which, if interpreted strictly, might seem to justify all that has been charged against him—are to be considered as sudden

In the drawing-room was one remarkable piece of furniture. It was an old and costly cabriole-chair, covered with Gobelin tapestry; to which the following history is attached. It was for many years used in the House of Commons; till, in consequence of some alterations, it was displaced, and presented to Mr. Burke. On his death, it was sold amongst his other effects, and was purchased by Peregrine Dealtry, Esq. of Brandenham House; and, on his decease, in 1814, it was presented by his sisters to Dr. Parr, who preserved, and highly prized it, as one of the great ornaments of Hatton-parsonage.1

The third and the principal apartment of Hatton-parsonage, the library, a spacious and handsome room, was built by Dr. Parr himself; and was stored with a vast collection of books, consisting, among others, of a fine assemblage of all the great works in the several departments of verbal criticism, classical literature, metaphysics, and theology. But, besides this large room and the breakfast-parlour, several closets, and other apartments, above stairs, were furnished with bookshelves, bending under their weight. One of these was called the upper library.

sallies of wit, rather than serious declarations of serious opinions? In particular, for the well-known expression referred to in the above note by Dr. Parr, may we not fairly admit the apology of his biographer in the following passage? “It was spoken jocularly; and, like many other expressions which he uttered, should by no means be rigidly interpreted, as implying a resolution to make self-interest the rule of his conduct.”—Meadley’s Life of Paley, p. 89.

1 Prior’s Life of Burke, vol. ii. p. 406.

Of this large collection of books, the whole may be characterised as useful, rather than curious or splendid; composed not so much of the rarest as of the best editions, in which the importance of the contents, not the beauty of the types, or the elegance of the binding,1 was principally regarded. As a scholar’s library, comprehending the wide range of ancient and modern literature, selected with taste and judgment, it is probably one of the most valuable collections ever brought together by a single individual. When Dr. Parr first settled at Hatton, it consisted of about 4000 volumes; and this number gradually increased to that of more than 10,000. “These books,” says he, in one of his publications, “I have long been collecting, with indefatigable industry: upon these I have expended more than half the produce of more than twenty years’ unwearied labour: these I consider as the pride of my youth, as the employment of my riper years, and perhaps the best solace of my declining life.”2

It is well known to his friends that, for several of his later years, Dr. Parr was employed in arranging his library, and preparing a Catalogue Raisonné, ultimately with a view to publication. This catalogue has recently been offered to the public, under the direction of his executors, ac-

1 “Dr. Combe has seen me sometimes laugh, and sometimes frown, amidst solemn harangues upon shining paper, large margins, pica print, morocco bindings, and other curious matters—far less familiar to my mind, and in my estimation somewhat less important, than just ideas and proper words.”—Reply to Combe, p. 47.

2 Sequel to printed Paper, p. 103.

companied with a short preface, signed by one of their number.1 Thus they have fulfilled what was certainly “a favourite wish” of their deceased friend; and have given to the learned world a fair opportunity “of seeing,” as Dr. Parr expressed it, “what sort of a collection of books had been made by a country parson.” The catalogue forms an octavo volume of 700 pages; and it will, no doubt, excite general surprise, that, with such limited means, he should have become possessed of so large a number of volumes: of which, though many appear to have been the gifts of authors and of friends, yet the far greater part were purchased by himself. To the titles of some of the books are

1 Bibliotheca Parriana; a Catalogue of the Library, &c. It is mentioned in the preface, that one very rare volume, “Micyllus de Re Metrica,” is missing; and that there is reason to apprehend “it has been purloined.”—“This book is of so great rarity,” it is added, “that Dr. Askew, to whom it once belonged, would not suffer Dr. Parr even to touch it, but showed it to him through the glass-case of one of the cabinets in his library.”—“The profane vulgar” will be astonished to hear, that book-stealing is a crime not unknown, and even not uncommon in the republic of letters! Other instances may occur to the reader’s recollection, even connected with some great names in the literary world, and still others may be found in this same catalogue.—“Hutchinson’s Use of Reason, &c. Part 2. I read, and once possessed Part the first: it was stolen. S. P.”—“Virgilii Opera illustrata, cura et studio Henrici Justice, Rufforthii Toparchæ. This book was printed in Italy, to which country the editor retired, when he had been prosecuted by the University of Cambridge for stealing books; and his sentence had been changed from transportation to exile for life. He was a member of Trinity College; he had a good fortune; he had been a magistrate in Suffolk; and with little chance of detection in a foreign land, he described himself as a toparch and a squire.”—Pp. 440. 695.

annexed short accounts of their authors, or remarks upon their works, written by Dr. Parr; in which his learning and judgment, the depth of his researches, and the extent of his information, the amiable candour of his opinions, and the generous fervour of his praises, advantageously appear. A few observations, insufficiently considered, or incautiously expressed, now and then occur; and for these the executors properly apologise. It is, however, greatly to be lamented that they have exposed themselves, not merely to the suspicion, but to the direct charge,1 of unfairly suppressing some declarations of Dr. Parr’s opinions, which he wished to be known to the public; and which, therefore, the public had a right to know. In the hopes which they have expressed—that so large and useful a collection of books may be kept together, and placed in a situation to serve as a guide to scholars of the present and future generations—the writer of these pages cordially joins; and in the same hopes all his readers will, he is assured, unite.

Richly furnished with all that a man of letters could want or wish, the library, as may easily be supposed, was the favourite apartment; in which Dr. Parr not only wrote and studied, at least during his later years, but almost lived. Though consecrated to the muses, it was thought no profanation to celebrate in this room, as being the most spacious, the rites of hospitality—for which Hatton-parsonage was long famed; and which so often filled the house with numerous guests, and

1 Gent. Mag. Oct. 1827.

the little neighbouring inn with trains of horses and carriages.1 It will be interesting to the reader to add, that, at the beginning of his last illness, which continued for many weeks, Dr. Parr was removed from his chamber into this apartment, where a bed had been put up for him, by his own express desire. Here, surrounded by the learned labours of the wise and the good of every age and every country, which had ever formed his chief occupation and delight during life, he passed, as he wished, the lingering hours of its closing scene; and here he breathed his last.

Few, who were intimate with Dr. Parr, can easily lose the recollection of another favourite apartment, a summer-house, built in the garden, at a short distance from the house; shut out from the view of it by the shade of trees, and looking rurally and pleasantly into a neighbouring field. Here, withdrawn, in some degree, from the intrusions, unavoidable in a large family, he was accustomed, for many years of his life, to pass the earlier hours of the morning, and sometimes the greater part of the day; absorbed in his own profound meditations, or holding converse with some chosen friend, or with “the mighty dead.” Dr. Parr called it “a retreat sacred to literature and friendship.”2 It

1 “So much has his loss been felt in the neighbourhood, that the turnpike-tolls, it is said, have fallen off, in consequence of the decrease of visitants.”—New Monthly Mag. May, 1826.

2 In the neighbourhood, it was humorously called the “Lion’s Den.” Alas! this little edifice—almost sacred as it was in the view of those who, like the writer, can remember hours and days of interesting and instructive conversation passed within—is now, by order of Dr. Parr’s successor, razed to the ground!

was a favour to be admitted into it—a favour which the writer had frequently the happiness of obtaining; and the easy unreserved communications of these morning interviews were usually more gratifying to him, than even the brilliant conversations, or the eloquent harangues, by which social parties were so often animated and delighted, round his dinner-table in the evening.

On settling at Hatton, Dr. Parr announced his intention of receiving into his house a few private pupils. The number was limited to seven; and these he soon obtained. It was at one time difficult to gain admission into that number, and the intercession of intimate friends has not seldom been employed for this purpose. But during the stormy period of the French Revolution, when the public odium, which almost overwhelmed his political associates, fell, with its full weight, on Dr. Parr, applications for the admission of pupils became much less frequent; and about the year 1798, he determined to offer no longer those services which, from the virulence of party spirit, were no longer held in due estimation. A considerable increase in his income, which occurred nearly at the same time, contributed to confirm his resolution. Alluding to this event, in a letter to his friend, the celebrated Mr. Roscoe, whom, however, he then knew only as a correspondent and an author, he thus expresses himself:—“I have lately seen much of Mr. P.; I value him highly; and often does our conversation turn upon you, and upon your writings. I know not whether I am more pleased with myself for sagacity, or for bene-volence, when I find from Mr. P. and others, that I have traced the man through his works. Some day or other we must meet. After the most intense drudgery of thirty-two years, I am now mei juris; and I intend, in one or other of my rambles, to visit Liverpool and Manchester again. I was there more than ten years ago; and they are the only towns of any size, in England, in which I was doomed to live a day or two without a companion, &c. Jan. 25, 1799.”

Dr. Parr’s treatment of his pupils, at Hatton, the writer can speak from his own observation, was always kind, if it was not always judicious. It must, indeed, be confessed, that he threw himself too open to the charge, of not properly checking that love of mischief in youth, which is often so vexatiously annoying to others; and—still worse!—of not sufficiently watching and resisting those evil propensities in the young, which are always so seriously injurious to themselves.

But, with the exception of these great errors, it may be truly stated that Dr. Parr was anxiously attentive to the important object of inculcating the principles of moral and noble conduct in those committed to his charge, and of inspiring them with generous ardour for literary improvement. His endeavours were, especially, directed to the important point of instilling into their minds the same high sense of honour, and the same strict regard to truth, by which his own was ever actuated. “I have a right to be believed,” are his words, “when I say, as the result of long and vigilant observation, that, if the habit of falsehood be once contracted, the whole moral system is immediately endangered. Truth is, undoubtedly, congenial to the mind of man; for who is there, not yet advanced to the verge of infatuation and frenzy, that does not wish the representation of things to correspond with the realities? Our selfishness gives us an interest in such a representation; our reason approves of its fitness; and when our feelings have been wrought up to the most exquisite sense of honour, we value the love of truth in preference to almost every other social quality.”1

The plan of literary instruction, which Dr. Parr adopted at Hatton, was the same as that, which he had hitherto pursued, as far as the difference between public and private education will admit. Even in his new situation he was still an advocate for most of the ancient rules of scholastic discipline; and especially for those corporal inflictions which, it is probable, no authority can long uphold against the growing conviction in the public mind, that such inflictions are as unnecessary and inefficacious, as they are barbarous and degrading.2

In his habits, as a tutor, even at the earlier, and still more at the later periods of his life, he was

1 Discourse on Education, p. 17.

2 “‘Lumbos dolare virgis,’ Dr. Parr considered so essential a process in the business of education, that, when asked respecting any one educated by him, ‘Whether he had been his pupil?’ his usual reply was, ‘Yes! I flogged him!’—Introducing one of his pupils to a lady as her guest, he addressed her in the following words: ‘Allow me, Madam, to introduce to you an old pupil of mine, whom I have often flogged, and who, I assure you, is all the better for it.’”—New Monthly Mag. Sept. 1826.

somewhat wayward and capricious—at one time punctual, at another time irregular, in his attendance upon his pupils; to-day severe, and remiss to-morrow, in enforcing the tasks, which he had enjoined, or the rules which he had prescribed. But his chief defects, as they struck the writer, were, those which are common to all men of great talents and learning, and which may be said to arise out of their very excellencies. The high powers, the quick comprehension, the rapid movements of their own minds, render it difficult for them to command, and to apply that degree of patient and indulgent attention, which the office of teaching so often requires. To sink down from the dignity of science—to descend from the loftier eminence of literature—to retrace, again and again, the first elements of knowledge, and to accommodate instruction to the dull or the feeble capacities of youth—all this is one of the hardest tasks, which humility has to teach, or which genius can be made to learn.

In addition to his engagements as a tutor, Dr. Parr devoted himself with ardour and diligence to the care of the parish, of which he now took upon himself the whole charge. It is pleasing to record that, with intellectual powers and attainments, which would have reflected honour on the highest station in the church, he bent down his mind to the duties of the humble sphere, in which it was his lot to move; and that, during his long residence at Hatton, he presented in himself an almost perfect model of that truly estimable character—a faithful village pastor.

Early in the year 1788, he obtained his most valuable preferment, as it proved in the end, the prebend of Wenlock Barnes, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, vacant by the death of the Rev. Dr. Wickens. For this he was indebted to the good opinion of Bishop Lowth, supported by the strong recommendations of the grandfather of the present Earl of Dartmouth. The reserved rents of the prebendal estates, for nearly twenty-one years, amounted only to about 20l. But as no new lease was granted, at the expiration of that time, Dr. Parr was entitled to the entire produce of the estates; which, after several expensive surveys, were re-let at an improved rent. A considerable quantity of land was, at a subsequent period, required for the purposes of the Regent’s Canal Company, for which he received a high price; and the whole became the source of a large revenue, scarcely less than 1600l.; thus rendering the closing years of his life not only easy but affluent.

In 1789 Dr. Parr was induced, with no view of advantage to himself, but for the accommodation of his successor, the Rev. Dr. Bridges, to exchange the perpetual curacy of Hatton, for the rectory of Waddenhoe, in Northamptonshire. Attached, however, to the place of his residence, he took care, in making this exchange, to stipulate for the undisturbed possession of the parsonage-house, and for the uninterrupted exercise of his ministerial functions, as deputy-curate of Hatton.

CHAPTER XV. 1786-1790. Dr. Parr’s intimate friends in Hatton and the neighbourhood-—Bree family—Mrs. Edwards—Dormer family—Mr. Gaches—Mr. Willes—Mr. Williams—Mr. Dewes—Mr. and Mrs. Greatheed—Mr. Morley—Mr.Tomes—Mr. W. and Mr. J. Parkes—Mr. Fellowes—Dr. Taylor—Dr. Lambe—Dr. Winthrop.

On settling at Hatton, Dr. Parr found, in his immediate neighbourhood, some agreeable society, especially in the family of the Brees, who have been seated, it is said, almost from the time of the Conquest, in the adjacent hamlet of Beausale, where they still possess a family-house, and a small estate.

But, among his parishioners, there was one, who soon attracted, in a particular manner, his notice, and who afterwards obtained a high place in his esteem and his friendly regards. This was a young female, Miss Hannah Wilson, the daughter of a respectable farmer, handsome in person, engaging in manners; possessing more than a common share of vivacity and vigour of understanding. To the mental and moral improvement of this “interesting young person,” as Dr. Parr often described her, his cares were studiously directed; and he was accustomed to speak, with pride and pleasure, of the progress of her mind, and the opening excellencies of her character. He took delight in guiding the course of her reading; and in communicating useful information, and calling forth mental exertion, by frequent and friendly converse. He constantly introduced her to the learned men who visited him,1 and always invited her to the literary parties meeting at his house.

At one time, he designed her, in his thoughts and wishes, for the wife of a celebrated professor, and the fellow of a college at Oxford, who was one of her admirers. But, in this instance, the impulse of affection would not obey the dictation of friendship, nor listen even to the suggestions of ambition, which might have been sufficiently gratified by an alliance with a man, high in literary fame, and rising prosperously in ecclesiastical wealth and dignity. She was afterwards married to Mr. Bellamy, a substantial yeoman, living at Hazeley House, in the neighbouring parish; and, at a subsequent period, some years after his death, she was a second time married, to John Edwards, Esq., of Stank Hill, near Warwick, and one of the aldermen of that borough.

In her house, at Hazeley, Dr. Parr always found the comforts of another home, and, in herself, the kind attentions of an affectionate friend. By her opinion he was often influenced; by her conversation he was always cheered and enlivened; and though in some of his later years she was divided

1 This lady often describes, with great pleasure and animation, her first introduction, by Dr. Parr, to some of those great men who have enlightened, adorned, and benefited the world. As thus: “Here, Mrs. Bellamy!” said Dr. Parr, “Mr. Porson; incomparably the first scholar on the earth! shake hands with him!” Thus again: “Here! I introduce to you Mr. Bentham: look at the greatest man, you ever saw! and shake hands with him!”

from his friendly intimacy, in consequence of unhappy family differences; yet she always cherished for him veneration and gratitude, as the guide of her early youth, and her faithful friend and pastor through the succeeding years of life.1

Within the distance of two miles from Hatton-parsonage is Grove Park, the seat of the noble family of the Dormers, with whom Dr. Parr was always on terms of friendly and neighbourly intimacy. They were a Catholic family; yet his esteem was increased, rather than lessened by that faithful adherence to the religion of their forefathers, for which the injustice of British law, and the jealousy of Protestant ascendency have doomed them to perpetual exclusion from some of the dearest rights of Englishmen and English peers. At their venerable mansion, known even so long ago as the reign of Edward III. by the name of “La Grave,” Dr. Parr was a frequent guest. Indeed he went thither, without any previous notice, in his ordinary costume, as often as he wished for the enlivening influence of a little cheering conversation; and he freely used the privilege of a neighbour, in borrowing books, pamphlets, and newspapers, whenever they were desired or wanted.

Charles, the eighth Lord Dormer, who died in

1 To this lady the writer has already acknowledged much obligation for many valuable communications on the subject of these Memoirs; and the reader may, perhaps, peruse them with greater confidence when he is told, that almost every page, especially of the second volume, has been compared with her vivid recollections; and by them, for the most part, corrected or confirmed.

1804, was deservedly respected for the integrity of his private, and the consistency of his public, conduct. But his son, Charles Lord Dormer, attained still higher elevation in worth and dignity of character, and presented still stronger claims to the respectful regards of those of his own, and those of all ranks. To him Dr. Parr was warmly attached; and he often spoke in praise of the estimable qualities which he possessed. He particularly admired the ardour of his attachment to the principles of his religious faith; and highly commended his zeal, worthy of a Catholic peer, in providing, that the social worship which he supported, and on which he attended during life, should not be discontinued at his death. This lamented event happened April 2, 1819; and, by his will, he ordered that a chapel should be erected on his estate; and he attached to it a house for the residence, and a salary for the maintenance of the priest. “Now was not that a noble deed?” exclaimed Dr. Parr, speaking of it to a friend, “to take care that his indigent fellow-catholics should not want the means of religious instruction and devotion, when himself should be no more!” Thus generously did Dr. Parr applaud, on every occasion, good, wherever good was to be found,—utterly regardless of those religious differences, which ignorant or envious bigotry so often imputes as moral guilt, tainting the whole character, and vitiating the best actions.

At Wootton-Wawen, about four miles from Hatton, long lived, and, in a good old age, died, the Rev. Daniel Gaches, for thirty-eight years vicar of that parish. His father, having somewhat extravagantly wasted a large property, called his children together, of whom he had several, and informed them, that, of the wrecks of his fortune, the portion which remained for each, amounting to a small sum, should, at their option, be devoted to the expenses of a learned education, or be put out to interest; the whole, when they came of age, to be at their own disposal. His son Daniel fixed his choice on the former of these alternatives; and was accordingly sent first to Eton, and then to Cambridge. He passed through the whole course of his studies with honourable distinction, and was presented by his college to the living of Wootton-Wawen.

Though somewhat stern in his manner, and severe in his reproaches, when he thought reproach deserved, Mr. Gaches was a kind friend, a hospitable neighbour, and an instructive and agreeable companion. Among his intimate associates were the late Sir Vicary Gibbs and Sir James Mansfield. In the general intercourse of society he appeared the polished gentleman; and in the discharge of his official duties, he approved himself the exemplary clergyman. For many years he was an able and active magistrate of the county: clear in discerning the nicest distinctions between right and wrong; prompt in explaining, and impartial in applying the maxims and rules of law, in all cases submitted to his decision.

Among classical scholars, Mr. Gaches might have claimed a place in the first rank; and a retentive memory, well fraught with all that the Grecian and Roman writers could teach, was accom-panied with much of that critical taste and judgment, which qualify for the perusal of their inestimable works, with the truest relish and the greatest advantage. It remains, however, to be lamented, that from his learning,extensive as it was, and from his talents, considerable as they were, the public have reaped no benefit, in any literary production, which might have transmitted his name with honour to posterity.—It is of him that the following amusing anecdote is told:

Mr. Gaches had brought with him a vast accumulation of Grecian and Roman lore, from Eton and from Cambridge, into the rural village of Wootton; where it was too often suffered to gather rust from disuse. In about the thirtieth year of his secluded life, Dr. Parr first settled at Hatton; and, in no long time, hastened to pay him a visit. The pleasure of two great scholars meeting together, under such circumstances, may easily be conceived. They shook hands, and without loss of time, began to engage in a sort of literary contest: Parr, with the aid of smoking, and Gaches, who never smoked, without it. “When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war.” English was almost despised; even Latin was lightly regarded; Greek was all the talk. Greek they spoke, and Greek they quoted, one passage in succession after another; so that if Lord Monboddo had been present, he might have fancied himself transported to his own beloved Athens. In this emulative display of their literary hoards, the generous strife was kept up with great spirit, and with various success, to a very late hour; when the vicar of Wootton was forced to yield, confessing himself out-talked and out-quoted, in the language, which most he loved; adding, by way of apology, that he had lived in a retired village so long, as to have become βάρβαρος μετα βάρβαρους. Without the smallest hesitation, and without a moment’s pause, Dr. Parr consoled the vanquished Grecian, by quoting from a passage in Menander these words: σύγε βάρβαρος; Ειθεν γενοιμην αύτος, ουτος βάρβαρος.

It was a subject of no small regret to their mutual friends, that these two great scholars, living so near together, and so remote from other learned associates, were too frequently divided from each other, not by literary rivalry, but by those little disputes on local and other trivial subjects, on which meaner mortals so often, and sometimes so fiercely, engage. Dr. Parr always, however, held the talents, the attainments, and the moral worth of his learned neighbour in due estimation; and on Mr. Gaches’ death, in 1805, he expressed his sense of them in an elegant Latin epitaph, inscribed on a monumental tablet, in Wootton-Wawen Church, where Mr. Gaches was buried.1

Among the neighbouring clergy whom Dr. Parr greatly esteemed, was the Rev. Edward Willes, son of the Right Hon. Edward Willes, Chief Baron of the Court of Exchequer, and one of his Majesty’s Privy-Council in Ireland. Possessed of an ample

1 App. No. II.

fortune, he lived retired at his own beautiful villa, Newbold-Comyns, near Leamington, devoted to the improvement of his estate and to the pleasures of literature. He was a man of considerable learning and deep reflection; cheerful in his temper, agreeable in his manners; and his conversation, though generally grave and instructive, was often enlivened by sallies of poignant wit and high-seasoned raillery. His admiration of the British constitution, as excellent in theory, did not prevent him from seeing and deploring its practical abuses; and though from his retired habits he was not a very active co-operator with the friends of freedom, yet he was an ardent well-wisher to all reforms, directed to the great object of checking and restraining every tendency to arbitrary rule, and of securing and extending the popular rights and liberties. A sincere friend, by honest preference, to the church of which he was a member and a minister, he was at the same time, from the dictates of an enlightened charity, not only tolerant, but friendly towards those of other churches; and was vehemently opposed to nothing, in any of the varying sects, but the bigotry too common to all. It will endear the recollection of his name to all the wise and good of every class of men and of Christians, to be told, that when the mad spirit of the Birmingham riots extended its malignant influence far and wide, and bore down the better principles in many a reasonable and virtuous mind, Mr. Willes, true to himself, amidst the general frenzy, not only protested against the horrid out-rages, but also with the risk of personal danger, and with the certainty of personal obloquy, offered to some persecuted individuals, whom he highly esteemed, an asylum in his own house, from the storm which at that time gathered round them, and threatened to burst, in fearful vengeance, upon them.

At Wellsbourn, about eight miles from Hatton, is still living, at an advanced age, the Rev. J. H. Williams, forty years vicar of that parish, who may justly claim a distinguished place among the most enlightened and liberal clergymen of his time. He is honourably known to the public, by three admirable sermons, published during the earlier periods of the late war; in which a solemn protest, ably supported by the united powers of argument and eloquence, is delivered against the shameless but too frequent abuse of war-fasts, to the purposes of exciting or promoting, at home, suspicion and intolerance, and abroad, the mad ambition of conquest, and the wicked thirst of blood. Of a man, who united in himself so much of the great and the good, of which cultivated and improved humanity is capable, Dr. Parr could not but entertain a high opinion, and he often spoke of him in terms of fervent admiration and esteem.

The writer, an enthusiastic admirer of that liberality of spirit in others which he endeavours to cultivate in himself, cannot forbear to record the following anecdote, worthy to grace more important pages than his own. At the time when the fiery zeal of Birmingham-bigotry was raging in all its fury, spreading, like an epidemical disease, throughout the whole body of churchmen, Mr. Williams happened to be dining with the Wellsbourn book-club, of which he acted as president, which consisted of the principal clergy and gentry of the place and its neighbourhood. After dinner, the standing toast of the times was given,—“Church and King;” which, however innocent in itself, was then the well-known watch-word of a party, supposed to look with complacency on the firing of houses, and the burning of property—not to say the destruction of life—as a just expression of holy indignation against obstinate non-conformists. Mr. Williams, who sat as chairman, on receiving the toast, not only declined it for himself, but openly and urgently stated his objection to it; powerfully appealing to the good sense and the right feeling of all present. Finding, however, his remonstrances unavailing, from that time he resigned his presidency; and withdrew from an association, which had suffered the virulence of party-spirit to prevail over the sentiments of common justice and common humanity. He, who has ever known and felt what it is to be opposed to the. sense of a whole company, with all of whom he is connected by the ties of near neighbourhood or long acquaintance, and with many of whom he is united by the still stronger ties of friendly regard, will appreciate the true greatness of such an act, as it deserves.

At the same pleasant village of Wellsbourn, is the seat of the late Court Dewes, Esq., whom Dr. Parr was always proud to name amongst the num-ber of his friends,1 and whom he once described to the writer, as an excellent scholar, as well as a perfect gentleman; critically skilled in Greek, Latin, Italian, and French. Mr. Dewes is known to the public as the correspondent of the celebrated Miss Seward; and it was at his house that she was honoured with a visit from Dr. Parr, of which she has given a pleasing account in a letter to her friend Mr. Saville, dated Dec. 7, 1792. It begins thus—“When I had the honour of a visit from Dr. Parr, he stayed two days and two nights at Wellsbourn;” and after having described the high pleasure which his conversation afforded, it concludes with these words—“I saw him depart with much regret, though his morning, noon, and evening pipe involved us in clouds of tobacco, while he stayed; but they were gilded by perpetual volleys of genius and wit.”2

But of all the friends living in the surrounding neighbourhood, there was none, by whose friendship Dr. Parr thought himself more honoured than that of Bertie Greatheed, of Guy’s Cliff, Esq. Rarely, indeed, in so elevated a station, have so many great and good qualities, raising and adorning the human character, met, in one rich assemblage, as in him. Of noble descent, with a majestic person, and pleasing and polished manners, he possessed strong powers of mind, well cultivated by early education, and improved by

1 “Auteurs déguisez sous des noms étrangers, &c. The gift of my very accomplished and worthy neighbour, Court Dewes, Esq., Oct. 26, 1791. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 275.

2 See another extract from the same letter, p. 157.

constant reading and reflection; aided by all the advantages of frequent intercourse with many of the most distinguished men of his time, and of a long residence in most of the principal countries of Europe. With the personal and intellectual endowments forming the accomplished gentleman, were associated the yet more important qualities, which constitute the virtuous man and the dignified Christian. In him, fervour of religious feeling, ardour of benevolent sentiment, purity of moral principle, soared above the ordinary standard of human excellence, even as it is to be seen in conditions of life less exposed, than those of rank and grandeur, to dangerous or pernicious influences.

Mr. Greatheed married his cousin, Miss Greatheed; a lady older than himself, but admirably qualified to insure and promote his happiness, by participating largely with him, in the same religious and moral feelings, in the same taste for the pure and simple pleasures of life, and the same delight in all the generous exertions of a benevolent spirit: and these qualities, possessed in common, were accompanied in her with a gay vivacity of temper and an engaging sprightliness of manner, peculiarly her own. Never, perhaps, was there, in the married state, a more perfect union of minds; and their great enjoyment through life seemed to be in each other’s society. They could not bear long separation; and from the day of their marriage, it is said, they were never afterwards, for many days together, separated. Thus united in life, they were scarcely divided in death. Mr. Greatheed, who had long enjoyed the reward of virtuous temperance, in the possession of almost uninterrupted health, after a short illness, died Jan. 16, 1826; and from that time, Mrs. Greatheed seemed to droop and to bend down, as if with desire, to the grave; neither expecting nor wishing much longer life. On the morning of June 1st, in the same year, she rose apparently as well as usual; but, in the act of dressing, felt herself ill; and, sitting down in a chair, within a few moments expired. She was interred in St. Mary’s Church, Warwick, between the remains of a son, whom she fervently loved, and those of a husband, whom she almost adored.

That son was their only child, deservedly their pride and their joy; whose opening character gave the fairest promise of virtuous excellence; and who, in the numerous and beautiful, and some even splendid, paintings, adorning the mansion of which he was once the heir, exhibited an extraordinary display of premature genius. Alas! at the age of twenty-two, to the inexpressible and inconsolable grief of his parents, and to the deep regret of all who knew him, he died, after a few days’ illness, at Vicenza, in Italy, Oct. 8, 1804. He left one daughter, the solace at first, and afterwards the delight of those who had lost in her father almost the love of life. She has since become the wife of the Hon. C. Bertie Percy, sixth son of the Earl of Beverley; and is now the inheritor of her grandfather’s fortune, and the possessor of Guy’s Cliff—so much admired for the pleasing and picturesque charms of its situation, and so long celebrated by the fame of its ancient inhabitant. To this lady, Dr. Parr has bequeathed a mourning-ring, “in testimony,” as he expresses it, “of his high regard for her ingenious father, and her truly excellent grandfather.”

Mr. Greatheed’s paternal inheritance, which was not large, consisted principally of West Indian estates, of uncertain produce. By great failure in his rental, and sometimes by the want of prudent economy, he was more than once reduced to considerable difficulties. But there was even, then, no unmanly depression of spirits in himself; and no mean servility with the hope of patronage from others. He contracted his expenses, and preserved his independence. He was nephew of the last Duke of Ancaster; on whose decease, in 1809, he had reason to expect some accession of fortune. But to his surprise and disappointment, he found the only provision made by the Duke’s will in his favour, was, the reversion of a very large sum, indeed, but entirely contingent on the death of a young man, then about eighteen, before attaining the age of twenty-five. Singular to relate, this young man, —— Collier, Esq., travelling in Italy with a party of friends, was attacked by banditti, plundered, beaten, threatened with death, detained many hours in dreadful suspense; and being afterwards released, on his arrival at Rome, whither he went, was taken ill of a fever, which terminated fatally. He died at the age of twenty-three; and thus Mr. Greatheed came into the possession of 7000l. a year.

Early in life, Mr. Greatheed aspired to the distinction of a writer, in the highest department of literary composition;1 and produced a tragedy with the title of “The Regent,” founded on a Spanish story; and expressly intended to give display to the talents of the celebrated actress, Mrs. Siddons, who had once been in the humble station of domestic attendant on his mother, Lady Mary Greatheed, and who afterwards obtained a high place in his esteem and friendly regards. The play was acted at Drury Lane, with considerable applause; and the part of Mrs. Siddons was sustained with powerful effect. But unfortunately, at that period, the king was labouring under the dreadful malady, which rendered the appointment of a regent necessary; when the bill, for that purpose, brought forward by the minister, it is well known, produced some of the most violent debates ever remembered in parliament, and created no small degree of suspense and agitation throughout the country. In this feverish state of the public mind, it was thought expedient, on account of its title and its subject, that the play, after a successful run of six or seven nights, should be withdrawn; and it was never afterwards revived. Though not, perhaps, entitled to a very high place in the class of composition to which it belongs, yet it is written in elegant, often nervous, language: it depicts, in glowing colours, the passions it is intended to represent; and abounds in strong and just sentiments, perhaps, more than in pathetic incidents, or interesting

1 He was also a poet, as appears from the following notice: “Florence Miscellany; a Collection of Poems. The gift of my enlightened friend, Bertie Greatheed, Esq., who contributed to this publication. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 518.

situations. Probably, there is in it too much of that “inactive declamation,” which, as Dr. Johnson observes, “on our stage is very coldly heard, however musical or elegant, however passionate or sublime.”

As a member of the state—with all due reverence for the monarchy and aristocracy, Mr. Greatheed was fervently attached to the popular part of our constitution; and he thought the power of the crown and the influence of the peers so dangerously increased, as to require vigorous counteraction, by watchful and jealous care, directed to the preservation and extension of the rights and liberties of the people. Whenever, therefore, the spirit of the town, or the county, in which he lived, was roused to the consideration of any great question of national interest, he was always found in the ranks of those who, whilst ready to support the just and necessary measures of government, are equally determined to oppose all unjust, arbitrary, and oppressive measures, from whatever quarter proceeding, and under whatever pretence, disguised or defended.

As a member of the church—though firm and devoted in his adherence to it, he was by no means indiscriminate in his admiration of it. Most of its mysterious dogmas he openly discarded; and all its uncharitable anathemas he utterly abjured. He thought that some reforms, in its present state, were absolutely required; and that some improvements, suited to more improved times, might be wisely admitted. But with a decided opinion in favour of the national establishment, he acknow-ledged, and, indeed, zealously maintained the right of toleration, in its fullest extent.

And here some grateful feelings arise, in the mind of the writer, in giving expression to which, he hopes to be pardoned. When, early in life, he was himself an object of persecution to some intolerant clergymen, he found a shield of powerful protection in the candour and the rectitude, and in the great name and authority, of Mr. Greatheed. When they falsely accused, he defended; when they unjustly reproached, he applauded; when they cruelly threatened, he encouraged. The publications, which the writer thought it necessary to send forth from the press in his own vindication, were all of them revised, corrected, and approved by Mr. Greatheed. Thus, like the figure of Justice, blind to what may be thought natural partialities, and regardful of nothing but holding with an even hand the great balance of truth and right, he stood on the side of the persecuted, though of another church, and opposed and condemned a persecuting spirit, even in the members of his own.

One of the earliest and most intimate of Dr. Parr’s friends in Warwickshire, was the late John Parry, Esq., for many years an eminent solicitor of Warwick, and for some years coroner for the county. He was a man of considerable powers of mind, well cultivated by early education; and afterwards exercised and improved by some reading, and by much observation of men and things, both in the discharge of professional duty, and in the general intercourse of society. Sincerity and warmth of attachment contributed to form in him the valuable friend; cheerful good humour and obliging manners, the agreeable companion; and just and honourable conduct, the estimable man. He was the more endeared to Dr. Parr, as a Whig of high tone and ardent spirit; who would have scorned to barter his principles for gain, or to desert them even in the worst of times. His house was the constant scene of generous hospitalities; and few of his numerous guests were received with more cordial welcome than Dr. Parr. But the pleasures of this social intercourse were not of long duration; for, early in Sept. 1792, Mr. Parry died. After his death, the house of his amiable widow was the frequent resort of Dr. Parr; where he always found the comforts of a home united with those, which the kind attentions of grateful friendship are sure to supply.

Among the earlier friends, whose acquaintance Dr. Parr cultivated during his residence at Hatton, honourable mention is due to the Rev. Mr. Morley, John Tomes, Esq., and Mr. William and Mr. John Parkes. The first, during the time when he was curate of Hampton-Lucy, was devoted in his attachment, and unceasing in his attentions to Dr. Parr; visiting him often, and rendering all the useful services of a literary assistant, and especially of an amanuensis. It was he who wrote the spirited sketch of the life and character of his illustrious friend, partly from his own dictation, given in the second volume of “Public Characters,” which appeared in 1810. For many years, distance of residence had prevented much personal intercourse; but the friendly assistant, to whom Dr. Parr was so often indebted, is thus respectfully noticed in his last will. “I give a ring to the Rev. and ingenious Mr. Morley of Aylesbury.”

In Mr. Tomes of Warwick, Dr. Parr always admired the vigorous understanding and useful activity, by which he is distinguished in private life; and he applauded the consistency and integrity of his public conduct; guided, as it has ever been, by large and enlightened views on all great questions, connected with the wise policy, the just rights and liberties, and the true prosperity and glory of the country. This gentleman has since been raised, by the almost unanimous suffrage of his fellow-townsmen, to the honour of being one of their representatives in parliament; and thus they have borne a high testimony of their respect for his public and private character, and of their gratitude for his exertions, so constantly directed to the local improvements, political freedom, and general welfare of their town.

Within the whole circle of his acquaintance, there were few persons of whom Dr. Parr entertained a higher opinion, or for whom he cherished a more sincere and affectionate regard, than for the late Mr. William Parkes, and his brother, Mr. John Parkes, who still survives. At one or other of their houses, in Warwick, he was in the habit of visiting frequently, and always with great satisfaction to himself. With them, he delighted to converse; to them, he was accustomed to disclose every secret of his heart; to them, he intrusted, for many years, with implicit confidence, the ma-nagement of his pecuniary, and many other of his most important affairs. When no opportunity of personal interviews occurred, hardly a day passed, either at home or abroad, in which he did not communicate with them by writing. A large collection of letters, notes and scraps now lies before the writer, addressed to one of them, being a small portion only, in comparison with the vast number which have not been preserved. In these, he gives to his friend an account, more or less minute, of his occupations, his visits, his journeys, his readings, his reflections, his cares, his joys, and his sorrows. They would strongly remind the classical reader of the correspondence of Augustus with Atticus, as described by Cornelius Nepos.1 Such an instance of friendship, subsisting in all its sincerity, and all its ardour, between persons not of the same religious creed, may appear somewhat extraordinary; especially in times when the raging spirit of party so often divides men of real worth from each other, and forbids the cultivation of those friendly intimacies, which could not fail to be the source of mutual pleasure and improvement.

It was within a few years after his settlement at Hatton, that Dr. Parr’s acquaintance began with the Rev. Robert Fellowes, who was afterwards admitted into the number of his most inti-

1 Nullus dies temere intercessit, quo non ad eum scriberet; adeo ut accuratè ille quid ageret, quid legeret, quid curæ sibi haberet, quibusque in locis, et quamdiu esset moraturus, certiorem faceret.—Vita Attici.

mate and beloved friends, and of whom, at that time, he thus wrote:

“He is curate of Harbury in Warwickshire, where I have often seen him employed among a well-chosen collection of books, and have been pleased with his conversation upon many interesting points of ethics, literature, and divinity. Now, in consequence of some reproaches thrown upon his character, I am bounden to say that I am acquainted with no clergyman in this or any neighbouring county, who is more respectable than Mr. Fellowes, for diligence in his studies, for acuteness in his understanding, for purity in his principles, for regularity and exactness in the discharge of his clerical duties, or integrity in the whole tenour of his life. He possesses only a scanty income, and has no prospect, I believe, of ecclesiastical preferment. But he administers medicine to the sick; he gives alms to the needy; he offers instruction to the ignorant; he visits the fatherless and the widow in their affliction; and keeps himself, in no common degree, unspotted from the world. He has sense enough to be a Christian without bigotry, and virtue enough to be a philosopher without profaneness. He professes Christianity from conviction; he explains it with perspicuity; he defends it with ardour; and he comments upon the temper and the actions of its blessed Author with reverence the most profound, and eloquence the most impressive.”1

1 Spital Sermon, notes, p. 81.

Among the frequent visitants at Hatton, during this early period, several distinguished members of that profession, which Dr. Parr ever held most in honour, remain to be mentioned.

Of these, the first was Dr. Taylor of Caithness, of whom, in a recent publication, Dr. Parr thus speaks: “He was a scholar, a philosopher, an acute physician—and my friend—while living, scarcely noticed at Warwick.”1 Of the few, however, the writer has the satisfaction to recollect that he was one, by whom Dr. Taylor was not only noticed, but highly regarded; and who derived much pleasure and improvement from cultivating his acquaintance. Similarity of opinion drew closer between them the ties of friendly intimacy. They entertained the same views of religious and Christian truth, and worshipped together in the same temple; and their thoughts were completely in unison on all the great subjects, connected with all the great interests of moral and social beings.

A second distinguished name to be mentioned, is that of Dr. Lambe, author of several important medical publications; of whom Dr. Parr thus expresses his high opinion: “He is a man of learning, a man of science, a man of genius, a man of distinguished integrity and honour, and my highly valued friend.”2 Favoured by the kind attention of such a man during his residence at Warwick, the writer may be pardoned for recording, in these pages, the honour and the happiness he could not

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 477. 2 Ibid, p. 471

but sensibly feel. Many and most pleasant, indeed, were the hours which he passed in listening to Dr. Lambe’s cheerful and instructive conversation; and sometimes in witnessing the progress of those ingenious chymical experiments, in which Dr. Lambe was at that time engaged, and of which the results have since been given to the world. From Warwick, he removed to a more extensive scene of activity and usefulness in London, where he still resides.

Nor can the writer refuse himself the gratification of offering a tribute of respectful remembrance to another member of the same profession, now no more, whom Dr. Parr numbered among his visitors and friends. This was Dr. Winthrop; who, after practising some time at Warwick, removed first to London, and then to Tunbridge, where, early in life, he died. The writer had the happiness to receive from him many proofs of friendly regards, in the intercourse of private life; and even in his public religious service, though of a different church, he was always encouraged by his approbation, and often animated by his presence. In Dr. Winthrop, all the qualities constituting the able physician and the estimable man, were accompanied and consecrated by a more than ordinary portion of devotional sentiment; and were crowned by a large share of that candour and liberality of spirit, which ennobles human character, and promotes so greatly the happiness of social life.

CHAPTER XVI. A.D. 1786—1790. Dr. Parr’s Preface to “The Three Treatises of Bellendenus”—His Preface to “Tracts of Warburton and a Warburtonian,” &c.—He is committed by the former publication to the Whig party, and patronised by them—His near prospect of a bishopric—His opinions on parliamentary reform—on the fortification plan—on the late Indian government—and on the test laws.

Hitherto the literary fame of Dr. Parr had been comparatively limited; but, in 1787, the public attention was greatly excited and drawn towards its author, by the appearance of the celebrated Latin preface to “The Three Treatises of Bellendenus.” The work was without a name, and curiosity busily turned in every direction to ascertain the writer; who was not discovered till after some time had elapsed, and much conjecture had been fruitlessly employed.

As a composition, this preface has been generally regarded as one of the finest specimens of modern Latinity extant; though some persons call in question its claims to the high praise, which others have conferred upon it. It has, however, been almost universally admired, as an able and animated exposition of the author’s opinions on the great events and actors in the political scenes of those times; comprehending many just and sagacious remarks on the principal measures of the two contending parties; and exhibiting many striking portraitures of character, drawn with nice discrimination of judgment, and touched with the powerful hand of a master. It is certainly, upon the whole, an extraordinary production; and it contributed, in no small degree, to advance the name of Dr. Parr to the height of celebrity, which it has since attained.

The first strong sensation created in the literary and political world by the Preface to Bellendenus had scarcely subsided, when public attention was again awakened, in an equal or greater degree, by another singular publication, entitled “Tracts of Warburton, and a Warburtonian, not admitted into their Works; to which are prefixed a Preface and a Dedication by the Editor;” who was soon discovered to be Dr. Parr. Of this, as well as the former publication, some account will be given in a subsequent page. Here, it will be sufficient to say, that the principal object was, to chastise the intolerance and the insolence by which the Warburtonian School was distinguished and disgraced; and particularly to throw a shield of protection over the fair fame of two eminent scholars and excellent men, who had been unjustly and rudely assailed, perhaps under the orders of the great master himself, by one of the most devoted of his disciples. This was a good service to the literary and the Christian community; and, in performing it, the writer has exhibited, in brilliant display, the great powers and endowments of his mind, and the extraordinary force and splendour of his composition.

If, in the latter of these publications, Dr. Parr appeared as the indignant reprover of arrogant domination, and as the generous advocate of freedom of thinking among literary men; in the former he stood confessed the bold and the ardent Whig, zealously attached to Mr. Fox, and to the wise and liberal principles of his policy, and firmly opposed to Mr. Pitt, and to the great principles of his long administration; of which, it has been said, that it added more to the burdens, and took more from the liberties of the people, than any administration since the unhappy days of the Stuarts. The remarks so vehemently pointed against the minister and his associates, though severe, are frequently just; yet, upon the whole, it must be owned that, in this far-famed preface, the spirit of the partisan prevails over the impartiality of the fair and dispassionate judge of public men and public measures; and that friends and foes are praised and blamed in a degree, beyond all due proportion to the qualities by which their respective characters were distinguished.

Thus openly assuming his station among the leading Whigs of his time, Dr. Parr was fully aware that he had shut the door against all hope of preferment from a court, which had ever regarded political subserviency as a recommendation, at least, equally powerful with literary excellence or moral worth. It was not long, however, before a prospect was unexpectedly disclosed to his view of obtaining the great object of his ambition, by means of the party, to which, from honest conviction, and by public profession, he was now united.

The autumn of 1788 was remarkable in the annals of England for the distressing malady of the king, and for the long and vehement debates in both houses of parliament, which followed in consequence: and which ended in the passing of a bill, vesting the powers of government with the name of regent, in the Prince of Wales. As the royal incapacity, according to the report of the physicians, was likely to be of long duration, there was every probability that Mr. Fox would be placed at the head of public affairs, by the decided choice of the prince; who had always acknowledged him as a personal friend, and who had uniformly professed to adopt his principles of legislation and government. In that case, it was natural to expect that Dr. Parr would be speedily advanced to some high station in the church, by those, with whom his merits as a divine and a scholar would be powerfully strengthened, by the claims of a political adherent.

It so happened that there was, at this time, a vacant seat on the episcopal bench; and it is well known to Dr. Parr’s friends that, early in 1789, he left Hatton for London, in consequence of a summons received, with the full expectation of being raised to that dignity, to which honourable ambition and conscious desert had long directed his wishes, if not his hopes. Had his political associates assumed the reins of government, and held them only for a fortnight, as he often used to relate, arrangements, already proposed and in part approved, would have been carried into effect: Dr. Huntingford would have been advanced to the see of Hereford, and himself nominated Bishop of Gloucester. With so much confidence did he look towards this flattering prospect, that his domestic plans were settled, as he said, with his family; and the great principles firmly fixed in his own mind, which should guide his conduct, both as the head of a diocese, and as a spiritual lord of parliament.1

But by the unexpected recovery of the king, announced to the two houses, March 2, 1789, the aspect of public affairs was suddenly changed; the existing administration retained its power; and thus was lost to Dr. Parr his first and almost his only chance of attaining the high honours to which, with so much just pretension, he aspired. Yet he has been often heard to declare that never, till then, did he fully understand the firmness of his own mind; nor could he have previously supposed that a disappointment, so apparently great, would have excited a pang so slight and so transient. He soon afterwards dined in company with the Right Reverend Prelate, who gained the preferment which he had missed; feeling nearly as much satisfaction, he said, as if he had himself obtained it. Within a short time, turning, without much regret, from the view of a court, to which he had been so closely brought, he left London, and hastened back to resume contentedly the calm pursuits of literature, and the active duties of the tutor and the pastor, in his beloved retirement at Hatton.

1 Gent. Mag. April, 1825, p. 370.

But even if his late disappointment had been more severely felt, not trivial would have been the consolation, which he soon received from a generous proposition brought forward about this time, and well supported by some of the leading and opulent Whigs. This was a subscription for his benefit, of which the amount was afterwards paid into the hands of the Dukes of Norfolk and Bedford; who agreed, in consideration of it, to grant him an annuity of 300l. for his life. It was a seasonable supply, which, from the scantiness of his pecuniary resources, had become, indeed, almost necessary; and, as a public mark of their respect and gratitude, it was deservedly due from the party, in whose defence he had stood forward, armed with the united powers of learning, argument and eloquence, at a period, when that party was at once furiously assailed by the government, and distrusted and nearly deserted by the people.

Among the occurrences, which, about this time, deeply interested the public mind, was the important plan of parliamentary reform, brought forward under the auspices of the minister himself; of which the principal object was, to transfer the right of representation from the decayed boroughs to the shires; and to extend the elective franchise from free-holders to copy-holders, in the case of counties, and, in that of populous towns, from the privileged few to the inhabitants at large. This was a most wise and well digested plan; and it received the fair and the liberal praise of Mr. Fox; yet it did not obtain the approbation of Dr. Parr, who thus unreasonably and unjustly decried it—“In forming and pursuing his great plan of popular representation, the minister exerted all the powers of his genius, and strained all the faculties of his mind. Not satisfied with the idea of introducing reform, his object seemed to be totally to alter the constitution of the senate. The views of which he thought so highly were, however, defeated by a majority of the house.”1

But in the subsequent conduct of Mr. Pitt, who, though solemnly pledged to this great object, never exerted one effort more to accomplish it, but ever after strenuously opposed it, there was certainly reason enough for language of even more bitter reproach than the following: “From the moment when his plan was rejected, all his ardour cooled, all his diligence relaxed. The very hope of healing what seemed to be corrupt in the state, was not only checked in his mind, but discarded from it. In this instance, some whom the name and the form of liberty transport almost beyond the bounds of reason, complain of his insincerity; and assert, that he who professed himself the great patron and support of their cause, uses a language foreign to his real sentiments.”1

But if Mr. Pitt has exposed himself to the reproach of having basely abjured the cause in which he had once so zealously embarked, he is entitled, however, for the next great measure proposed by him to high and unqualified praise. This was the commercial treaty with France; a measure founded on the wisest principles of sound and liberal policy.

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 20. Trans. p. 44.

It is mortifying to think that, to such a measure, the enlightened mind of Mr. Fox was opposed; and that he rested one of his great objections to it, on the strange principle of natural and invincible enmity between the two neighbouring nations. With no less surprise than concern, we observe the same objection urged, and the same odious principle admitted, by Dr. Parr, in the following passage:—“It may be remarked that nature seems to have placed an insuperable bar to union, in divided shores, opposite fortunes, and varying laws, customs and genius. They who applaud this treaty, loudly and boisterously contend that the ambitious spirit of the French will now be lulled to repose; and that we shall have nothing hereafter to fear, from their open attempts or secret arts. But the character of the French is, in my opinion, marked by a lust of power and by perfidiousness. When, therefore, they make spontaneous and liberal offers, my distrust is only the more awakened. I fear lest war be enveloped in the mantle of peace.”1

Little disposed, however, as he was to approve of his measures in general, Dr. Parr awarded to the minister his due share of praise for the part taken by him in the great affair, which, in 1787 began, and for so many years afterwards continued to engage, though with decreasing interest, the attention both of Europe and of Asia. This was the trial of Mr. Hastings, who was impeached by the commons, it is well known, for high crimes and misdemeanours, committed during his administration as Governor

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 21. Trans, p. 46.

general of British India. “In what relates to the Asiatic governor,” says Dr. Parr, “the minister seems to have recovered his energy of mind; and he lent his strenuous exertions, in bringing to the light of day that truth, which had been so long buried under a most enormous pressure.”1

But though conducted with all the zeal and the talents of the opposition, and sanctioned by the authority of the minister, this celebrated trial, after being shamefully protracted to the end of its seventh year, terminated in the acquittal of the accused, by the votes of twenty-one against eight peers; being all who thought themselves qualified to deliver an opinion, on so complex and so long depending a cause. “It was, indeed, a most lame and impotent conclusion,” as was well observed at the time, to which so much display of talent and so much parade of justice were thus brought at last!

Of those, who appeared as actors in this imposing scene of a mighty state-delinquent, summoned before the grand inquest of the nation, none was more distinguished than Mr. Sheridan; to whom, as his tutor, and the tutor of his son, Dr. Parr was united by the ties of friendship, as well as those of political party. It may easily be supposed, therefore, that he would participate largely in the universal admiration, excited on that occasion by the wonderful efforts of genius and eloquence, which have immortalised the name of that great and almost unrivalled orator. The following

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 62. Trans, p. 134.

is part of the splendid eulogy, traced by the pen of his learned preceptor and friend:

“In a late public cause, instituted against a certain governor, how extensive were his claims to favour and to fame! In how wonderful a manner did he communicate delight, and incline the most reluctant to his purpose!” “To the discussion of this cause, he came admirably prepared. All was anxious expectation. From the very beginning, he appeared to justify impatience. That subject, so various, complicated, and abstruse, he comprehended with precision, and explained with acuteness. He placed every argument in that particular point, in which it had the greatest energy and effect. Throughout a very long speech, he was careful to use no imprudent expression, but was uniformly consistent with himself. His style was dexterously adapted to the occasion. In one part, he was copious and splendid; in another part, he was more concise and pointed, and gave additional polish to truth. As he found it necessary, he instructed, delighted, or agitated his hearers. He appeared to have no other object in view, than to give the fairest termination to the business; to prove the guilt of the accused, by the most indisputable evidence, and to confirm the object of the investigation, by strong and decisive reasoning.” “With how much applause he was heard by an attentive senate, is universally known. His most determined adversaries were compelled to render tribute to his excellence. A large portion was added, not merely to his fair and honourable popularity, but to his solid and un-fading glory. Posterity will again and again, with renewed wonder and delight, peruse that composition, and with heartfelt animation will often exclaim, in the words of Aeschines, ‘Oh that we had heard him!’”1

Another question of deep interest, to all the friends of religious liberty, agitated during this period, was the question of the “Test Laws;” by which dissidents from the national church are excluded from all offices of trust and honour, whether civil or military. A first time, in 1787, and a second time, in 1789, the repeal of these laws was moved in the House of Commons, by Mr. Beaufoy, a senator of considerable talents, information and influence, in a speech at once temperate, judicious and impressive. He was powerfully supported by Mr. Fox and others; but opposed, with much vehement declamation, by Lord North, and, with much show of candour and speciousness of reasoning, by Mr. Pitt. The question was, upon the whole, favourably received by the House; and, on the latter occasion, it was lost by a majority, in a full assembly, of no more than twenty.

The defeat, which they had thus sustained, was, in fact, considered by the friends of the repeal, as equivalent to a victory; and most unhappily, their triumph in the present, and their confident anticipation of final and complete success, betrayed them into some gross errors and indiscretions, which proved fatal to their cause. Zeal excited opposing zeal: the old and appalling cry of “the church is

1 Praef. ad Bellen. p. 31. Trans, p. 65.

in danger,” was raised with astonishing success: the timid were alarmed; the artful were emboldened; and the result was, that on a third application, in 1790, the claims of reason and justice, ably maintained as they were, by Mr. Fox, Mr. Beaufoy, Mr. W. Smith, and others, were rejected by the overwhelming majority of 295 to 105.

On these important occasions, the writer feels much regret in recording, that Dr. Parr was found, not among the friends, as, from his attachment to the cause of religious freedom, might have been expected, but among the opposers of the repeal. It ought, however, to be remembered, that the true principles of toleration were not then so well understood as at present; nor were they carried to the same wide and just extent. It was, therefore, we may fairly presume, from some honest doubts, that Dr. Parr declared against the wise and equitable policy of Mr. Fox, devoted as he was to him; and adopted, in preference, the less enlarged and less generous views of Mr. Pitt, though to his general measures so decidedly opposed. Thus he sounds the praises of the great statesman, whom he so severely censures in the same volume: “The minister, with a manly spirit, defended the rights of the church, and made his eloquence a kind of sedulous hand-maid to the political sagacity of Lord North; and he claims, therefore, and deserves our highest commendation.”1

It will hardly be disputed, by any reasonable and well-informed politician of the present day,

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 62. Trans. p. 134.

that the claims of the dissenters are founded on the clearest principles of equity and policy; yet it must be acknowledged, at the same time, that their manner of advancing those claims was, in some instances, not wise or becoming. The severity of remonstrance, and the bitterness of reproach, with which they assailed their adversaries, too often served only to rouse indignation, and to provoke more determined opposition. The numerous meetings of their delegates in London, and in various parts of the country—in which warmth of feeling animated, while prudence did not always guide, their deliberations—produced, as the natural effect, counter-meetings. These meetings were convened in almost every county, and every considerable town, throughout the kingdom; to which all the friends of the establishment, led on by their clergy, flocked, in eager and anxious crowds, as if the very foundations of their church were shaken. Of all these, one of the most noted for its numbers and its zeal, was the meeting of the noblemen, the gentlemen and the clergy of the county of Warwick, held in the Shire-hall at Warwick, Feb. 2, 1790, at which the Earl of Aylesford presided, and at which Dr. Parr attended, without, however, taking any active part in the proceedings. Thus he explains the views which then actuated, and the hopes which then cheered, his mind.

“In the earlier part of my life, I thought the Test Act oppressive; but in the year 1782, I very carefully and very seriously re-examined the subject, and changed my opinion. In 1790, I strenuously opposed the attempt to procure a repeal; and yet I cannot help indulging the comfortable hope that, in the progress of intellectual and moral improvement, religious animosities will at last subside; and that the restraints for which I have contended, and do still contend, will be no longer thought necessary for the public safety, by the heads of that church, which I have never deserted, and by the members of that legislature, which I have never disobeyed.”1

One would, indeed, hope that the day cannot be very far distant when, even in the opinion of the great authorities here appealed to, the public safety will not require the exclusion of loyal subjects from their civil rights, merely on account of their religious opinions. It is pleasing, however, to state, that, from this time, Dr. Parr began to open his mind to the conviction, that all such rules of exclusion are equally repugnant to the strictest justice, and to the soundest policy; and that during all the later years of his life, he was the firm and zealous opposer of all religious tests whatever. The uninterrupted exercise of their religion, granted to all non-conformists, whether Protestant or Catholic, secured by law, with an exclusion from all offices of trust and emolument, he considered, according to the just distinction of Dr. Paley,2 as partial toleration; and their full admission to all civil privileges and capacities, as complete toleration. The latter, and not the former, appeared to him, at once, the most just and generous, and the wisest and safest system, which a nation can adopt.

1 Sequel, p. 52. 2 Paley’s Moral Philos. vol. ii. p. 334.

Attached to a volume in Dr. Parr’s library, entitled “The Right of Protestant Dissenters to a complete Toleration, 1789,” is the following note: “This very able book was published on the application of the dissenters for the repeal of the Test Act. It has been ascribed to Sergeant Heywood, who, probably, was assisted by lawyers and dissenting clergymen. It is the only powerful book produced by the application; and it wrought a total change in Dr. Parr’s mind, on the general principle of tests. He always disapproved of the sacramental test; and he now sees the injustice and inefficacy of all religious tests whatever.”1

It was, probably, during the earlier periods of Mr. Pitt’s public life, that Dr. Parr sought and obtained an interview with the prime-minister, of which he often spoke to his friends, with mingled pride and pleasure. Opposed to the general course of his administration, and severely as he reprobated many of its most distinguished acts; yet it was impossible that he should not think highly of Mr. Pitt’s talents, both as a statesman and as an orator; and he always rendered full justice to the enlightened views which dictated some of his measures, and the upright intentions which guided all. “If a friend of Mr. Pitt,” said he in one of his publications, “were to ask me for a dedication, I should disdain, from political motives, to refuse compliance. Without offering the smallest violence to my own settled principles, I should endeavour to gratify the warm, and, it may be, honourable prejudices of Mr. Pitt’s adherent. In

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 615.

the wide range of that minister’s attainments, talents, and even measures, I should not very long be at a loss for topics of commendation, at once appropriate and just. I should select those topics with impartiality; I should seize them with eagerness; I should exhibit them with all the advantages of exemplification and arrangement, with all the embellishments of diction, and all the ardour of panegyric, which my understanding and my erudition, such as they are, would enable me to employ.”1

Thus capable of fairly estimating the merits, as well as demerits, of a great political adversary, it need surprise no one that Dr. Parr should conceive a wish for the honour of being admitted to a conference with a minister, who was for so many years the favourite of the king and the people, and who so long held in his hands the destinies of England, and, in some degree, of Europe. Accordingly, by means of a common friend, Dr. Parr caused a message to be communicated, importing, that as he supposed an interview would not be disagreeable to Mr. Pitt, and as he was sure it would be highly gratifying to himself, if Mr. Pitt should be disposed to grant him that favour, Dr. Parr requested that he would appoint a time and a place, such as might best suit his own convenience. The communication was favourably received; a time and a place were fixed; and the great statesman and the great scholar met. Their conversation was long and animated; embracing a variety of topics, chiefly, it may be supposed,

1 Reply to Combe, p. 9.

of literature; as politics were, by express agreement, excluded; and, after having passed several hours together, they separated with many expressions of mutual regard. Dr. Parr was highly delighted with the interview; and was confirmed by it in his favourable opinion, long entertained, of the pure and good intentions, which actuated the mind of Mr. Pitt, as a man and a statesman—even amidst the deplorable political errors, under the ruinous effects of which the country is at this moment suffering, and will, probably, continue to suffer for years to come.

CHAPTER XVII. A. D. 1787. Publication of “Bellendenus de Statu, Libri Tres”—Account of the author, and of his work—Of another work by the same author—Charge of plagiarism against Dr. Middleton—The three Dedications, to North, Burke, and Fox—The Preface—Public characters introduced into it—Beloe’s translation of it.

William Bellenden, a native of Scotland, descended from an ancient and honourable family, lived in the reign of James I., and was preferred by him to the office of Master of the Pleas, or Requests; an office of which the business seems to have been to receive petitions, and to make a report of them to the sovereign. He was a man, eminent for his talents and his learning; and is said to have been professor of the Belles Lettres, in the University of Paris. It is certain that, leaving his native country, he passed many years of his life, devoted to literary pursuits, in the French metropolis. As the reader of petitions to one prince resided so long in the capital of another, it should seem that the office itself was nominal, or that it admitted of being performed by deputy. These few particulars comprise all that has been discovered of the early or the later history of Bellendenus. It is not even known how long he lived, nor when, or where, he died.

During his residence at Paris his mind was not suffered to languish, nor were his studies barren of public utility; for here he composed his three treatises, and published them successively in the following order: “Cicero Consul”—“Cicero Princeps”—“De Statu Prisci Orbis.” The two first, from a principle of gratitude, he inscribed to James’ accomplished son, Prince Henry; who died, to the grief of the whole nation, at the early age of eighteen; and the last he dedicated to his second and only surviving son, afterwards the unfortunate Charles I. As the three treatises are on subjects in some degree connected with each other, he was induced, at a subsequent period, to print them together in one volume; reversing the order in which they originally appeared, and giving to the whole the title of “De Statu.” This was done in 1616.

Of the three books—the first, “De Statu Orbis” exhibits, in a series of slight but masterly sketches, the progress of religion, philosophy, and legislation, beginning with the earliest ages, and pursuing them through all their various modifications and improvements, during the times of the Egyptians, the Hebrews, the Greeks, and the Romans. The second book, “De Statu Principis,” shows the origin of all power in a state, and the true end for which government is instituted, prescribes the duties of princes and rulers, and strongly enforces those maxims of wisdom, which ought ever to guide both their public and private conduct. The third and the largest book, “De Statu Reipublicas,” explains the nature and duty of the consular and senatorial dignity at Rome; and delivers, in minute detail, those great rules of right conduct, applicable to all who are intrusted, especially under free governments, with any share of public authority, civil, sacerdotal, or military.

Prefixed to the three books is a short introductory treatise, entitled “De processu et scriptoribus Rei Politicæ”—of which the object is to trace to their sources the false notions in religion, and the erroneous and defective views in moral and political science, prevalent in the earlier ages of the world. Even in this small part, as well as throughout the whole work, much curious and valuable information is communicated in a style perspicuous and elegant, with all the advantages of clear and lucid arrangement; and no reader can peruse it without being struck with the learned and diligent research, the strong powers of intellect, and the deep feelings of piety and virtue, which every where conspicuously appear.

Besides this work, Bellendenus had begun another and a still greater, entitled “De tribus Luminibus Romanorum;” with which high distinction it was his intention to decorate the name of Cicero, Seneca, and the Elder Pliny.1 But to the regret of all scholars, he lived to complete only the first of the three divisions of his work. “It is an admirable performance,” says Dr. Parr,

1 “Bellend. de tribus Luminibus Romanorum, &c. This celebrated work is posthumous. It relates to Cicero only; and of the other two Lumina we have nothing. In the spring of 1783, Sir William Jones told me, that his learned father-in-law, Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph, held Seneca to be one of the Lumina; and the learned Dr. Lowth, Bishop of London, told me in 1787, that he believed Pliny to be the other. But it is singular that Shipley had not heard of Pliny, nor Lowth of Seneca. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 336.

“bearing, in every part, testimony to the diligent application, and the superior genius of the writer. Whatever we find in the different writings of Cicero acutely conceived, or elegantly expressed, he has not only collected in one view, but has elucidated in the clearest manner.”1

It is in reference to this last work, that Dr. Parr has exhibited a serious charge against a scholar, and a writer of high renown, to whose various excellencies he has, at the same time, rendered ample justice. “Dr. Middleton,” says he, “was a man of no common attainments; his learning was elegant and profound; his judgment was acute and polished; he had a fine and correct taste; and his style was so pure and harmonious, so vigorously flowing, without being inflated, that, Addison alone excepted, he seems to me without a rival.”—“As to his mind,” continues Dr. Parr, “I am compelled with grief and reluctance to confess, that it was neither ingenuous nor faithful; and I am vehemently displeased to find, that a man, so enlightened and accomplished, should have attempted to deprive another of his merited fame. For I assert, in the most unqualified terms, that Middleton, in his Life of Cicero, was not only indebted to Bellendenus for many useful and splendid materials, but that, whenever it suited his purpose, he has made a mere transcript of his work.”2

This extraordinary instance of literary theft had long indeed been suspected, but was never till

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 70. Trans, p. 149.

2 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 3. Trans, p. 7.

now sufficiently proved; and it must be owned, that it casts a dark shade over a name, which had hitherto shone, with resplendent lustre, in the republic of letters.

The three treatises of “Bellendenus de Statu” had long been remarkably scarce, when, in 1786, a new edition was projected, in concert with Dr. Parr, by the late Rev. Henry Homer, formerly of Emanuel College, Cambridge. Of the origin and progress of this design, the following account is given by Dr. Parr:

“Mr. Homer had often heard me speak of the high esteem in which I held Bellenden’s book, “De tribus Luminibus,” and of the great pains I had taken to examine how far the charge of plagiarism from that work, urged against Dr. Middleton, was well founded. My conversation might, or might not, have excited his curiosity about the name of Bellendenus. But I know that he was a diligent searcher after curious books; and soon afterwards, having met with Bellenden’s three treatises, he wrote me a good-humoured and triumphant letter about his discovery. In the month of October, 1786, he came to me at Hatton, bringing with him the book in his pocket; and at the same time, talked about publishing it. I examined the tracts, which I had never seen before; I concurred with him in the propriety of publishing it; and the result of our conversation was, that I should assist in revising the sheets, write the dedications and preface, and partake of the expense. Thus we entered on the work by common consent from the beginning, and pursued it with joint exertion to the conclusion.”1

Of the dedications and the preface, also, the learned writer has left upon record the following detailed account:

“Pleased as I was with the whole design proposed in October, I wrote the dedications and the preface, too, before the end of November. The preface at first filled about a sheet of paper; and contained such information, as I was able to obtain from my books. I afterwards gained, by means of Mr. Homer’s inquiries and my own, additional information, which I occasionally inserted, as soon as it reached me. About the end of November, or early in December, my daughter, who was very ill, went with her mother to London; and remained, for some time, under the kind and judicious care of Dr. Combe. I suffered great inquietude of mind, from the danger in which I supposed her to be. I sought relief, and found it, in preparations for the enlargement of the preface. The political matter was then for the first time introduced; and, of course, the preface grew larger and larger, as new efforts produced new additions. It was, in December, first transcribed by Mr. Maltby; and afterwards, in the month of January, 1787, it was again transcribed by him. In the same month, I had an opportunity of showing it to Mr. Sheridan. It happened to me, as it does to other men of letters engaged in a favourite work, that revisal, communication, and reading, supplied fresh ideas; and the

1 Reply to Combe, p. 42.

size of the preface was, in the second transcript, much increased, before I sent it up to the press, in the month of January. Whilst it was printing, I revised every sheet twice. I made several corrections in the style, a few alterations in the arrangement, and some additions to the matter. It was published about the end of May, or beginning of June.”1

From Dr. Parr’s great admiration, and from his frequent perusal of Bellenden’s unfinished work, “De tribus Luminibus Romanorum,” as mentioned by himself, the idea was no doubt suggested to his mind, of celebrating, under the similar designation of “Tria Lumina Anglorum,” the praises of the three illustrious statesmen, Burke, North, and Fox. He has, therefore, not only inscribed to them in three elegant dedications2 the three books of which the work consists; but he has also devoted a considerable portion of his preface, to a discussion of their respective merits, as statesmen and as orators. Their distinguishing excellencies, as orators, are traced in clear and strong lines; and the maxims and measures of policy, approved or adopted by them, as statesmen, are strenuously defended, and often lavishly applauded. But the whole preface, it must be owned, is written rather in the style of vehement declamation, than of cool and dispassionate reasoning.

Of the “Tria Lumina Anglorum,” the first presented to our view, on this political canvass, is, Mr. Burke; whose qualities, as a public man and a public speaker, are flatteringly delineated. But let it be

1 Reply to Combe, p. 43. 2 App. No. II.

remembered, it is Mr. Burke—qualis erat!—in his happiest phasis—before he assumed the strange shape in which he appeared after the French Revolution—opposing not only the party with which he had so long and so uniformly acted; but opposing, also, and even reprobating all the great principles of liberty and policy, which he had so constantly avowed, and so ardently maintained—Quantum mutatus ab illo!

“That man requires no studied panegyric as to his moral character, whose manners are conciliating and agreeable, and whose actions are directed by the rules of virtue. But the rectitude and integrity of Burke are so conspicuous, that defying all scrutiny into his own, he may be justified in exacting a rigorous account of another man’s conduct.”1

Then—as an orator—his eulogist thus speaks of him:

“Athens was the parent and patroness of science. But an Athenian audience would have listened, with delight, to Burke; would have admired his inventive copiousness of diction; would have thought the goddess Persuasion enthroned upon his lips.”—“He, who imitates Burke, may be assured that his model is marked by Attic excellence; and he, who hears him with delight, may be satisfied that his own progress in literature is far from being contemptible.”

The unfortunate war-minister, during the long contest with America—in private life so beloved!—as a public man so reprobated!—is next intro-

1 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 7. Trans, p. 15.

duced; and his character favourably, many will think too partially, represented, is given in a passage quoted in a former page of this work;1 to which may be subjoined the following:

“If we investigate more minutely the character of his mind, we shall have occasion to observe, that when in possession of the highest office, and opposed by a powerful competitor, he conducted himself with the extremest moderation. We shall find him steady in his attachments; placable in his resentments; successful in inspiring that confidence, which he never disappointed; without the least appearance of criminality, unless it be that, in the prosecution of the American war, he did not keep pace with the ardour of the public expectation.”—“But great as are his claims to praise in other respects, our admiration is principally attracted by the firmness, with which he supported adversity; and the dignity, which, in the midst of danger and difficulty, he preserved pure and undiminished.”2

If the portraitures of the two first great ornaments of Britain are but slightly touched, that of the third is more fully drawn, and more highly finished. He is thus introduced:

“My third illustrious character possesses a mind great and lofty, and, at the same time, full of candour and simplicity; who, alone, claims the singular merit of excelling in almost every species of eloquence.”3

1 See p. 114. 2 Praef. p 8. Trans, p. 17.

3 Præf. p. 9. Trans. p. 19.

Among the many striking and beautiful delineations of the vast and wonderful powers of Fox’s oratory, are the following:

“If he do not forcibly impress his audience at the commencement of his speeches, his strong and varied powers, as he proceeds, progressively rouse and fix attention. His introductory skirmishes, if we may so term them, are contrived—not for insulting parade, in imitation of the Samnites, who did not use in battle the spears, which they brandished before it—but so as to be of the greatest advantage to his purpose, when he appears more particularly anxious to gain the victory. If strenuously pressed, he retreats, not as if he had thrown away, or even dropped his shield; but he seems wholly collected in himself, and merely to be making use of a feint, whilst selecting a better situation. When his object is, to refute his adversaries, he accumulates all his powers. Sometimes, he applies the more compressed weapons of logic; and, with their extreme acuteness, harasses those who are most versed, and most obstinate in the contest. Sometimes he expands himself, and lets loose all the reins to that species of eloquence, which is more difficult, more magnificent, more splendid. But all the superior greatness of his genius is then apparent, when, unresisted, he takes possession of what seemed capable of a vigorous defence; when he describes the opinions and manners of men; when he applies examples; when he alarms his adversaries with apprehensions of the future; when he denounces vengeance against crimes; when he passes the limits, which restrain ordinary speakers; when he expresses the emotions of supplication, of hope, of detestation.” 1

The unhappy errors of Mr. Fox’s conduct, especially at the beginning of his career, though acknowledged and lamented with all the regrets of virtuous consistency and dignity, are yet stated with those fair allowances, which candour requires, and moral justice approves.

“I will confess that when Mr. Fox first entered on the dangerous paths of early life, when the blaze of the world first burst upon his inexperienced sight, he had not the resolution to forego the pleasures, the pursuits, or, if you please, the follies of his companions. I will concede yet more: I will even allow that his deviation from the right line of discretion was not abrupt or casual, but precipitate and continued; that he consumed his patrimony, became the victim of usurious engagements, and sullied the lustre of his rank and birth by vicious indulgence. But these delights, fallaciously so termed, never detained or occupied him very long. He felt a conscious superiority of talents; the studies of eloquence, at intervals, captivated his fancy; and with all his indiscretions, he preserved a certain dignity of character. We are bold to assert that he was never profligate. The interests of his country occasionally employed his thoughts and his active exertions. If, in the hours of indolence and retirement, his pursuit of pleasure was immoderate; yet, when occasion required, he was able to display the lustre of

1 Praef. p. 11. Trans, p. 23.

superior virtues; and he had always the faculty, which he still retains, of conciliating the affections of his friends.”1

The errors and indiscretions of youthful days were greatly atoned for by the subsequent conduct of Mr. Fox, in private, but especially in public life. So his admirer and his advocate powerfully pleads:—

“He may justly be ranked amongst the number of those, of whom there are many, entitled to the praise of estimable characters; who, from a youth consumed in intoxicating pleasure, have emerged, at length, and become deserving as men, and illustrious as citizens. Whilst employed in public affairs, all his plans were formed with so much diligence and energy, he was so vigilant and so indefatigable in the pursuit of the public welfare, so prompt and active in transacting business, that no spirit of jealousy or opposition could withhold from him the commendation, which was alike due to the wisdom of his councils, and the vigour of his actions.”2

But besides the “Tria Lumina”—the three principal figures in the picture—characters of other leading men of the times are sketched, with uncommon force and spirit; generally, with much truth of resemblance, though not wholly without those discolourations, and even distortions, by which the grave, as well as the merry satirist so often disguises or disfigures the reality of objects to the view of others, and sometimes to his own.

1 Præf. p. 14. Trans, p. 30.

2 Præf. ad Bellen. p. 15. Trans, p. 32.

Among the persons, standing most prominently forward in this splendid piece of political painting, is the prime-minister himself; and placed in contrast with him, appears his great rival in debate, Mr. Sheridan. These are surrounded with a group of personages, of whom the chief are Miso-Themistocles, Doson, Novius, Thrasybulus, and Clodius; who are easily known, “vizarded” as they are, to be the late Duke of Richmond, the first Marquis of Lansdowne, Lord Chancellor Thurlow, Mr. Dundas, and Mr. Wilkes.

With respect to the prime-minister, whom the writer, for reasons given by himself,1 forbears to name, it must be confessed that the largest portion of Dr. Parr’s preface is one continued severe, indignant invective, pointed against the principles and the measures of his administration; and yet justice is not denied even to him, nor is a certain degree of qualified praise withholden from him. In the following passage, his admirers will acknowledge something like a fair estimate of his talents as an orator:

“This young man is distinguished by an ornamented and florid style of eloquence, which, as it seems transferred to the senate entirely from the schools of the sophists, offends the sagacity of some, and the dignity of others. He possesses,

1 “Some perhaps may be inquisitive to know why I have distinguished a certain young man of exalted station by a Greek appellation? I have, in this instance, imitated the example of Nicholas Heinsius, who, in his letter to Gronovius, frequently calls Gevaitius ό Δεινα, avoiding, in testimony of contempt, to give him his proper name.”—Praef. p. 75. Trans, p. 157.

however, one faculty, in my opinion his chief recommendation—that of speaking with facility on all occasions. The ancients were accustomed to believe that this talent could only be the effect—though the honourable effect—of continued industry. Whatever be the necessity of the occasion, as soon as he rises, at the very waving of his hand, and the motion of his foot, an exuberance of words, like the Pompeian Band, bound to their leader by the solemnity of an oath, press themselves forward with zealous eagerness; and very remarkable it is, that, whilst speaking with great variety, and still greater celerity, in all the turns and changes of debate, he is so accurate in the choice, and so correct in the application of his words, that he never, in the minutest instance, deviates from grammatical precision. Though there are some who do not entirely approve of that rapidity of style, which is produced by the imagination, when warm with new ideas; yet, even these acknowledge, that if his language were committed to writing, it could not be more polished or more perfect.”1

There is, in the following passage, a spirit of fairness and candour which, especially in a political disputant, all must approve and all admire:—

“I distinguish the cause from those who support it, hating the one, but not the other; which sentiment I particularly apply to that young man, in whom I willingly confess to have discovered proofs, both of virtue and genius, when first he

1 Praef. p. 23. Trans, p. 50.

entered the career of glory. Betwixt the barrier and the goal, however, a long distance and various objects intervene. The way to it is insidious; ‘puzzled with mazes and perplexed with errors.’ Why should I dissemble my sentiments? His colleagues seem to have brought him down from the skies; and to have succeeded in making him, not like his connexions, but most preposterously unlike himself.”1

Next to the minister, and opposed to him as he often was, in keen debate, appears Sheridan; in whose portrait, evidently drawn by the hand of partial and admiring friendship, the general likeness will be acknowledged, amidst the high colouring, with which it is heightened and adorned.

“It cannot be denied that there are some, among his adversaries, with whom the minister constantly avoids the encounter. At least, he fails in obtaining the applause even of his friends, whenever he opposes himself to that man, whose talents as an orator and a disputant, are so eminently great; who penetrates into every subject of whatever nature, and understands every weapon of attack and defence; who rivals Hyperides and Lysias in acuteness, Menander and Aristophanes in wit.”—“To a profound knowledge of affairs, Sheridan unites all the essential qualities of the orator. His vein of humour is great and delightful; his erudition is polite, elegant, and extensive; his quickness of apprehension and acuteness of reply

1 Præf. p. 61. Trans, p. 132.

are really wonderful; besides which, on all occasions, he discovers the most ingenuous and exquisite urbanity.”1

Of the remaining characters—Doson and Miso-Themistocles are introduced, merely for the purpose of receiving their sentence of condemnation; the one, for his mad fortification-projects, the other for his disingenuous conduct towards his political associates, after the decease of the Marquis of Rockingham. Clodius, too, is seen only for a moment, and is then dismissed, stamped with this mark of reprobation:—“The daring falsehoods of Clodius, which formerly inspired kings with terror, cease now to allure a smile, or the faintest murmur of applause; for, having been again and again repeated, they excite fastidiousness, among the lowest of the vulgar.”2

There are still two bold sketches to be noticed. The one is that of Novius:—“He is an orator, who carries menace and terror on his brow; but we think his eloquence Thrasonic, and despise its loudest thunder. His appearance never fails to communicate the idea of outrage; and his countenance is alike gloomy and terrific. Vast in his person, bold in his sentiments, pompous in his words, and powerful, not so much in the qualities of wisdom, as in the consequence, which he gives to trifles, he has secured the prejudices of the Upper House. His style of oratory is warm and petulant; neither remarkable for its neatness, nor offensive for its vulgarity. His attempts at ridi-

1 Præf. p. 29. Trans, p. 61. 2 Preef. p. 53. Trans, p. 115.

cule are mean and disagreeable. His replies to his opponents are constantly acrimonious. His constructions of law are artful and malignant. He often becomes so vehement and furious, as to exceed all bounds of decorum,—I had almost said, of reason.”1

“Behold now the mighty, the enormous Thrasybulus! whose countenance and appearance afford amplest matter for ridicule. If you wish to know the qualities of his eloquence, it is marked by no elegance or ornament; it is rude and offensive; always maimed, confused and obscure. To this add a prompt volubility of tongue, and impudence not easily abashed; with a tone of voice, which, though I have heard, I should find it difficult to describe. At one time, it menaces him with suffocation; at another time, it is harsh, as if passed over a file.”—“They who have seen Thrasybulus inclining, sometimes to this, sometimes to that side, are at a loss to imagine which will be favoured with his suffrage. His zealous services, indeed, every man of power may direct and command, as he pleases. He openly confessed, that no eye shall ever discover in him a reluctance to undertake measures of a difficult nature, or a fastidiousness with respect to those which appear base and dishonourable. By being every thing to every man, he insinuated himself into the favour of the great. His interest is therefore secure; for he never knew what it was to blush.”2

Such is a slight analysis of the Preface to Bel-

1 Praef. p. 49. Trans, p. 103. 2 Praef. p. 53. Trans, p. 116.

lendenus; and, imperfect as it is, it may yet be sufficient to convey some idea of that singular production to readers, to whom the original itself may not be acceptable. They will at least be able to judge of the validity of the objection urged against it, as being, like the two “well-known prefaces of Sallust, entirely unconnected in its subject with the work to which it is prefixed. It cannot be denied, that the objection is founded in the long established rules of propriety and good taste; and yet, who would wish to take away either the short but pleasing and instructive proems to the histories of the Catiline and Jugurthine wars? or the long, the learned, the animated and eloquent preface to Bellenden’s treatises? When amusement or instruction is really communicated, a little incongruity as to time or place is easily pardoned.”1

Of the merits of this preface, as a composition, the writer presumes not to give any opinion of his own:—“Laudatur ab his, culpatur ab illis.” Whilst some have extolled it as a master-piece of modern Latinity, others have represented it as a copious collection of words and phrases, culled from the best authorities, and skilfully interwoven with each other, leaving little in the language, which can be called the writer’s own.”2 But allowing the just-

1 “Bellen. de Statu libri tres. I republished this book, and wrote for it a preface which attracted some notice. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 336.

2 Horne Tooke once said of it, “It consists of mere scraps;” and the sarcasm was reported to the learned editor. They happened soon afterwards to meet. “So, Mr. Tooke,” said Dr. Parr, “you think my ‘Preface’ mere scraps?”—“True,” replied Tooke, with his usual inimitable promptness, “but you know, my dear doctor, scraps are often titbits!”

ness of the remark, in a degree, it would hardly be fair to urge it to the extent of destroying all claims, on the part of Bellenden’s editor, to the honour of an original writer. Bellenden himself not only professes to form his style on the model of Cicero, but has borrowed freely from his master, especially in his third book; which, indeed, is little more than a vast collection of Cicero’s thoughts, in the very words of Cicero. Even in his first and second books, where he speaks more from himself, it is often difficult to distinguish the language which he borrows from his own; and yet, upon the whole, who will deny him the praise of being a skilful and elegant writer of Latin?

But on this subject let Dr. Parr himself be heard:

“My relief from the continued fatigue of a laborious situation has been the perusal of Greek and Latin authors. The candid reader will, therefore, forgive me, if I should be found to have used in this preface such words and phrases as, in the course of my reading, have excited my more particular attention. To what precise limits the imitation of the ancients may extend, I pretend not to determine. In matters of this kind, every one has his own particular taste to pursue, and judgment to satisfy. Merit, in such cases, is not to be decided from particular phrases or expressions, but from the general tenour and complexion of the entire performance.”1

Thus, also, in answer to some remarks of a literary opponent, he speaks in another publication:

1 Præf. p. 73. Trans, p. 154.

“Hitherto, I have been accustomed to think, that the preface excited some degree of attention to the work itself; and had gratified a little the curiosity of scholars not only in England and Scotland, but also in Germany: where I know that Mr. Heyne paid a most honourable tribute of commendation to me, for not preferring what Milton calls the ‘gay rankness’ of modern fustianists to the native Latinism of Cicero.”1 He afterwards adds, “Highly as I am gratified by the approbation of Mr. Heyne, I by no means aspire even to the qualified praise bestowed on those writers who are known by the name of Ciceronians. Instead of imitating, as some scholars have professed to do, the manner of Terence or Tacitus among the ancients, or of Lipsius and Strada among the moderns, I have endeavoured, as far as my slender abilities would permit me, to make the style of Cicero a general model of my own; and, at the same time, I have avowedly followed the example of many learned men in the occasional use of words, which are not found in the writers of the Augustan age. Even in the corrected preface to Bellenden, I have discovered some faults; and I have no hesitation in saying, that I think my own talent for Latin composition very inferior to that of Sir W. Jones, Bishop Lowth, Dr. Philip Barton, Dr. Lawrence, and Sir G. Baker.”2

Soon after the preface to Bellendenus had made its appearance, an English translation was published by Mr. Beloe, without the knowledge and

1 Reply to Combe, p. 47. 2 Ibid, p. 82.

consent, and, as it afterwards appeared, contrary to the wishes of the author. Thus, however, the translator speaks in his own justification:—

“If the learned author of the preface had condescended to favour the public with his name, motives of delicacy would have restrained us from translating it, without the express sanction of his approbation. As he has not done this, we may indeed indulge conjecture concerning him; but conjecture is, in its very nature, vague, and of necessity it is often fallacious. It would, however, be invidious and malignant to suppose that any man delivers sentiments in a dead language, which he will not avow, or which he cannot vindicate, in his own. We will not, therefore, believe, that with respect to the editor of Bellendenus we have any resentment to deprecate; we are even inclined to hope that he will expect no further apology from us, than we are ready to make from the consciousness of not having rendered adequate justice to his taste, his erudition, and his genius.”1

Attached to the copy of this translation in Dr. Parr’s library, are the following words—“Hastily and incorrectly translated by the notorious William Beloe, who apologised to Dr. Parr for the liberty he had taken.”2

1 Advertisement to the “Free Translation of the Preface to Bellendenus.”

2 Bibl. Parr. p. 336.

CHAPTER XVIII. A.D.1789. “Dr. Parr’s Republication of Tracts by Warburton and a Warburtonian, &c. with a Dedication and two Prefaces” Notice of Bishop Warburton—of Bishop Hurd—Offence committed by Dr. Jortin—Dr. Hurd’s “Delicacy of Friendship”—Offence committed by Dr. Leland—Dr. Hurd’s letter to him—Warburton’s two Tracts—Question considered, Whether the republication of these Tracts is justifiable?—Dr. Parr’s vindication of himself—His character of Warburton—of Hurd.

Few readers will require to be told that Warburton, the celebrated Bishop of Gloucester, was a man of powerful mind, which he assiduously cultivated with little assistance from others, and of vast and various learning, for which he was indebted almost entirely to his own laborious exertions. He received no other education, but that of a common grammar-school;1 and was brought up to the study of the law, in which, for some years, he practised as an attorney. Changing afterwards his views, he entered into the church, and soon obtained considerable preferment; though it was not till a late period of life that he rose to its higher dignities. As a divine, a scholar, and a writer, he was long regarded not only as the distinguished ornament of his profession, but also as one of the

1 “With eloquence so vigorous, knowledge so various, and genius so splendid, Warburton might justly have laughed at the censures of his contemporaries, upon his want of skill in verbal criticism, and his want of practice in Latin composition, S. P.”—Bibl. Parr, p, 640.

great men of his age and his country. Far, however, from being content with the respect and the deference, to which he was really entitled, he set up for himself a bold claim of dictatorial authority, which least of all in the republic of letters can ever be patiently endured. The consciousness of his own abilities inspired him with a proud esteem of self, and a haughty disdain of others, which he was at no pains to conceal, even in his conduct, and still less in his writings. Nothing could be more disgraceful in itself, or more degrading to the clergyman and the man of letters, than the contempt and abuse, which he poured upon all, by whom his opinions were rejected, or in the smallest degree opposed.

His works are numerous; and all bear the stamp of his superior genius: but it is genius, deserted by common reason and sense; wandering without a guide; perplexed with its own errors, lost in the mazes of its own creation. No one more frequently mistook the shadows of imagination for the realities of truth; and none ever more scornfully rejected the best established opinions of mankind, or more obstinately and arrogantly maintained his own peculiar notions, however visionary and absurd. It was his delight to employ the mighty powers of his mind in searching after strange and repulsive novelties, and dressing out whimsical and astounding paradoxes in the imposing garb of new and important discoveries. It was impossible, therefore, with all his just claims to the respectful regards of others, that he should not be the object often of silent wonder, and sometimes of serious censure. But if he created many enemies, he also attached to himself many friends and partisans, by whom he was at once admired, loved, and feared.

Amongst the number of his devoted followers, none was more remarkably distinguished than Dr. Hurd, the late Bishop of Worcester; who, on every occasion, pressed eagerly forward to do him homage, with all the zeal of a sworn vassal to his liege lord; and who ever stood ready armed to defend him, when attacked; to support him when attacking others; and to claim for him the victory, even when repulsed or defeated. Dr. Hurd never shrunk from maintaining the most absurd or objectionable of Warburton’s theological dogmas, or critical decrees; nor hesitated to encounter with rude defiance or cool derision, the most reasonable and respectable of his opponents. “Pariterque in bella ruebant;” and it might be added, “his unus amor erat.” For, never were disciple and his master so well pleased with each other, or so profuse in their mutual adulations. This sufficiently appeared in their long published writings; and was still more glaringly exhibited in the volume of “Letters,” bequeathed by his Lordship of Worcester, as a legacy to posterity; being printed during his lifetime under his own direction, though not presented to the public till after his death. Nothing can be more truly disgusting than the gross flattery so complacently given and received, in the course of these Letters; and yet even this would have been less intolerable, if it had not been accompanied by so many supercilious remarks and scornful jeers, pointed against some of the greatest and best men of the literary world, who refused to measure their opinions by the standard of Warburtonian infallibility.

Dr. Hurd was, in many respects, an amiable man and an exemplary clergyman. He was an accomplished scholar, and an elegant, though by no means a faultless writer. It is much to be lamented, therefore, that he should have imbibed, in so large a portion, his master’s acrimony of temper, and have imitated so frequently his contemptuousness of manner: nor is it possible to absolve him from the severe censure, which Mr. Hume has pronounced in the “Short Account of his Life;” where, speaking of one of his own works, he observes, that “Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with all the illiberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility, which distinguished the Warburtonian school.”1

Such was Warburton, and such the Warburtonian—whose tracts, rejected by their authors, were republished, certainly with no friendly views, by Dr. Parr; and, therefore, his conduct may seem to require some explanation, or to call for some vindication—if, of vindication, it admit.

Be it known then, if not already known, to the reader, that, among the many persons, who brought down upon them the displeasure of the great hierophant of Gloucester, there were two more notorious, perhaps, than the rest, Dr. John Jortin, and Dr. Thomas Leland; and their story must now be told somewhat in detail.

1 “My own Life,” prefixed to Hume’s History of England, vol. i. p. 13.

Of his numerous productions, the great and the favourite work of Warburton was, “The Divine Legation of Moses demonstrated;” of which, it may be truly said, that never was there a work so universally read at the time, and so soon afterwards utterly neglected, and almost utterly forgotten. Such is the fate of misguided, though splendid genius!1

Amidst the wild conjectures and strange assertions, the unsafe premises and unsound conclusions, with which that singular production abounds, not the least remarkable is the allegorical interpretation attempted to be imposed on the sixth book of Virgil’s Aeneid. The learned author contends, “that Eneas’ adventure to the infernal shades is no other, than a figurative representation of his initiation into the mysteries, and an exact one, especially, of his initiation into those of the Eleusinian spectacles.”2 The hypothesis is supported with much ingenuity and learning; but it is a “baseless fabric,” which dissolves and vanishes at the first touch of true criticism, or even of sound sense. “It is,” says Dr. Parr, “completely confuted, in a most clear, elegant, and decisive work of criticism; which could not, indeed, derive authority from the greatest name, but to which the greatest name might with propriety be affixed.”3—“These critical observations,” as it

1 “The Divine Legation of Moses” is a monument, already crumbling into dust, of the vigour and the weakness of the human mind.”—Gibbon.

2 Div. Leg. Book ii. sect. 4.

3 Dedication to Warb. Tracts, p. 192.

afterwards appeared, were written by the historian of the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.”1

And now for the high misdemeanour laid to the charge of Dr. Jortin. He was guilty of the twofold offence2 “of writing upon the same subject, and of not taking the same view of it with “the inquisitor-general and judge-supreme of the opinions of the learned.”3 He had published a volume, containing “Six Dissertations;” in the last of which, he dares to discuss the subject of the Sixth Eneid; and ventures thus to notice, cautiously and respectfully, the Warburtonian hypothesis. “That the subterraneous adventure of Eneas is intended by Virgil to represent the initiation of his hero, is an elegant conjecture; which has been laid before the public, and set forth to the best advantage, by a learned friend.” He then proceeds, but without one word of direct objection to the allegorical interpretation to deliver his own, which, no doubt, he thought more reasonable; referring the decision, as indeed he safely might, to the judgment of the readers.

Such was the offence committed against the self-created lord of the literary world, which was thought to call for exemplary punishment; and the task of inflicting it was promptly taken upon himself, by one of the ablest, perhaps, certainly one of the most obsequious of his servants. A pamphlet accordingly soon appeared, with the title “On the Delicacy of Friendship; a seventh

1 Gibbon’s Works, vol. ii. p. 437.

2 “Delicacy of Friendship,” Hurd’s Works, vol. xiii. p. 283.

3 Lowth’s Letter to Warburton, p. 9.

Dissertation, addressed to the Author of the Sixth:” of which, though it appeared without a name, the writer was in no long time discovered to be Dr. Hurd; and surely, of all the productions which ever came from the pen of a scholar of reputation, and a man of respectability, this was the most offensive and inexcusable. It was received with the indignation1 which it merited, by men of all parties, not excepting some of Warburton’s friends.2 Unjustifiable in its object, odious in its spirit, false in many of its statements, and futile in most of its reasoning, it can hardly be condemned, on its own account, with too much severity; and when considered as an address from one scholar to another, of equal or greater pretensions, it must be pronounced, in a high degree, pert and petulant, if not rude and insolent. He that can read it, with patience enough to admire it as a composition, must first forget the outrage which it offers, not only to the dignity of letters, but to the just decorum of common life.

“Who will refuse the praise,” asks Dr. Parr, “at least of ingenuity, to the Dissertation on the Delicacy of Friendship? Perhaps it is difficult to name a book where the defects of the cause are so abundantly supplied by the skill of the advo-

1 “See the base and malignant ‘Essay on the Delicacy of Friendship.’”—Gibbon.

2 Address to Dr. Hurd by Dr. Brown, author of “Essays on the Characteristics,” and a friend of Warburton:—“I think, my friend, you are in danger of hurting Dr. Warburton, as well as yourself, by the intemperance of your zeal,” &c.—Warb. Tracts, p. 200.

cate; or where the barrenness of the subject is more successfully fertilised, by the fancy of the writer. But these literary excellencies, however extraordinary, and however indisputable, are not sufficient to atone for the moral imperfections, which accompany them.”1

Such is the case of the first delinquent—let that of the second, Dr. Leland, be next heard. He was charged, in this high court of literary inquisition, with the offence of calling in question, amongst other strange and extraordinary positions, maintained by Warburton in his “Doctrine of Grace,” the two following:—the first, on the subject of divine inspiration—“that a rude and barbarous style, abounding with every fault that can deform a language, is so far from proving such language not inspired, that it is one certain mark of its being so;” and the second, on the subject of human eloquence—“that its true end is, to stifle reason, and inflame the passions.” These assertions Dr. Leland presumed to deny, and even attempted to refute, in his “Dissertation on the Principles of Human Eloquence;” and, what is more, in this attempt, by the general confession of the literary world, he has succeeded.

To defend the authority of his master from so daring an attack, Dr. Hurd again rushed forward, still disguised, and determined to call the bold assailant to a severe account. Accordingly he published, without his name, “A Letter to the Rev. Dr. Leland,” &c. “This letter,” says Dr.

1 Preface to Warb. Tracts, p. 176.

Parr, “is distinguished by a sort of sparkling vivacity and specious acuteness, which may, for a time, reconcile the reader to the want of solidity.”1 Another critic, still more severe, thus delivers his opinion: “A spirit of insolence breathes through this whole letter, with an academical pertness unworthy of a polite scholar; and, in an anonymous writer, extremely mean. As a defence of the Bishop of Gloucester, it is specious and plausible, but far from being solid or satisfactory.”2

Such is the history of the two tracts by a Warburtonian, which, together with two by Warburton himself, not admitted into the collected works of their respective authors, Dr. Parr thought proper to publish; and the question is, whether that republication admits of fair and reasonable vindication?3

Of Warburton’s tracts, the first consists of “Miscellaneous Translations, in Prose and Verse, from the Roman Poets, Orators, and Historians:”4—most of them inadequate and even incorrect, as translations, and all of them clothed in language, coarse, unpolished, often obscure, and still oftener, ungrammatical. The second and the more considerable work is entitled, “A Critical and Philosophical Inquiry into the Causes of Prodigies and

1 Preface to Warb. Tracts, p. 175.

2 Monthly Rev. Oct. 1764.

3 See the negative of this question maintained, Monthly Rev. Aug. 1789.

4 “This was Dr. Warburton’s first publication. It is very scarce; having been bought up, by his order, as often as it appeared. S. P.’—Bibl. Parr. p. 227.

Miracles, as related by Historians;” in which, if the reader sometimes stands aghast at the absurdity, or wonders at the temerity, or smiles at the credulity of the writer, there are bursts of Warburton’s powerful genius, and displays of his extensive learning, which will not fail to arrest his attention. Upon the whole, however, it will hardly be thought that these works, even considered as juvenile performances, reflect much honour upon their illustrious author; though it may still be admitted, in the language of the learned editor, “that his character will suffer no diminution of its lustre from their republication, among readers of candour and discernment.”1

But let Dr. Parr be heard more fully in his own words. “They, who are curious in collecting books, must certainly be anxious to possess all the writings of this eminent prelate. They, who mark with philosophic precision the progress of the human understanding, will look up to Warburton with greater reverence and greater astonishment, when they compare the better productions of his pen with his worse. The faults of the one are excused, by the imperfections of his education; but the excellencies of the other must be ascribed only to the unwearied activity, the unshackled boldness, the uncommon and almost unparalleled vigour of his native genius.”2

1 Preface to the Warb. Tracts, p. 1.

2 “This work was republished by Dr. Parr, but omitted in Bishop Hurd’s edition of Bishop Warburton’s works. And why omitted? For, with all its singularities, it has many marks of the vigorous and original mind of that distinguished prelate.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 690.

Such are Dr. Parr’s reasons, as stated by himself. But whether they justify sufficiently the republication, since no purpose of public good could possibly be answered by it, may reasonably admit of doubt. At all events, the editor of the complete edition of Warburton’s works is to be commended, not blamed, because, in rejecting these two tracts, he certainly consulted the wishes, and probably obeyed the express injunction of the author himself; in which case, even Dr. Parr allows “he acted an honourable part.”

Had Dr. Hurd, indeed, followed the dictates of his own judgment, unquestionably he would have given a place at least to one of these tracts, among the other works of Warburton. For, in one of his letters to his illustrious friend, thus he writes: “I met with the ‘Essay on Portents and Prodigies,’ which I liked the better, and still like it, because I understood it was most abused by those, who owed you no good will.”1 This, it must be acknowledged, is an odd reason for admiration: a better is given in the following passage—“The author, perhaps, may consider this tract with the same neglect as Cicero did his earlier compositions, on rhetoric; but the curious will regard it with reverence, as a fine essay of his genius, and a prelude to all the great things he was afterwards seen capable of accomplishing.”2

Warburton himself, however, it is certain entertained a very different opinion of this work, and

1 Warburton’s and Hurd’s Letters, p. 215.

2 Hurd’s Discourse on Poetical Imitation, Works, vol. ii. p. 206.

took much pains to suppress it. Thus in one of his letters he speaks: “I was very much a boy, when I wrote that thing, about prodigies; and I never had the courage to look into it, since;1 so that I have quite forgot all the nonsense it contains. But, a few years before Curl’s death, he wrote me a letter, to acquaint me he had bought the property of my excellent Discourse; and that, as it had been long out of print, he was going to reprint it; only he desired to know, if I had any additions or alterations to make, he should be glad of the honour of receiving them. The writer and the contents of his letter very much alarmed me; so I wrote to Mr. Knapton, to go to the fellow, and buy my book of him again; and so ended this ridiculous affair, which may be a warning to young scribblers.”2

From this passage it appears how great was the anxiety of Warburton, to consign the first early effort of his genius to oblivion; and though that anxiety might not have been distinctly known to Dr. Parr, yet it was sufficiently intimated by the actual exclusion of the tract from the authorised edition of Warburton’s works. But to drag, a first or a second time, into the light a literary production of any writer, contrary to his own wish, where no object of public utility demands it, is a liberty which seems hardly to be justified.

The case of “Tracts by a Warburtonian” stands, however, on different grounds; and something may be said, which will, perhaps, go far towards vindi-

1 Warburton’s and Hurd’s Letters, p. 219.

cating the act of republishing them, even without the consent of their author. It is generally understood that Dr. Hurd had been most diligently employed, some time before, in buying up all the remaining copies of his two pamphlets, with a view to their total suppression; and though they were afterwards admitted, no doubt, by his order, into the complete edition of his works, yet the admission, it must be remembered, was, in a manner, forced upon him, by the failure of his endeavours to suppress them.

Since, then, not the slightest reparation was ever offered to the two learned and excellent persons, whom he had so grossly insulted, it is reasonable to conclude that, in his attempted suppression, he was actuated, not by generous views of doing justice to them, but by the desire merely of escaping from the deep disgrace which, in the opinion of the literary world, he had brought upon himself. It might well be thought justifiable, therefore, to stop and baffle the scornful abuser of others, in his endeavour to hide his own shame, unaccompanied, as it was, with the faintest acknowledgment, expressed or implied, of his own delinquency; and it will not be denied, that a fair as well as an effectual mode of exposing to deserved reprobation so rude and so wrongful an attack on two illustrious ornaments of learning and religion, was to hold up the offensive tracts themselves, by publishing them, to the view and indignation of all; thus, at once, appeasing the shades of injured and departed excellence, and exhibiting to literary railers, however high their rank, and however splendid their fame, a salutary warning for ages to come. So at least thought Dr. Parr. “These great and good men,” says he, “are certainly entitled to some compensation or other; and the republication of the books written against them will more effectually answer this honourable and necessary purpose, than a direct argumentative defence. It will show, by the brightest proofs, that Leland and Jortin scarcely need any elaborate justification; and that their antagonist, however plausible in his objections, or smart in his raillery, cannot, without the greatest difficulty, be justified by himself or his admirers.”1

But let the learned editor be heard, still further, in his own justification: “By the writer of these pamphlets, two very learned and worthy men were attacked, with most unprovoked and unprecedented virulence. The attempt to stifle them is, however, a very obscure and equivocal mark of repentance in the offender. Public and deliberate was the insult, which he offered to the feelings of those whom he assailed; and, therefore, no compensation ought to be accepted, which falls short of a direct and explicit retractation. Even by his friends, his silence has not yet been represented as the effect of contrition. His pen has not been employed in any subsequent publication, to commend two writers, against whom he had formerly brandished his censures. His example—and this is worst of all—is at hand to encourage any future adventurer, who may be disposed to attack the best books, and the best men; and, afterwards,

1 Dedication of the Two Tracts, &c. pp. 165, 166.

when the real merits of the dispute, or the real character of his opponents are known, may contrive to let his mischievous cavils sink into oblivion, to skulk, as softly as he can, from detection and disgrace; nay, to set up serious pretensions to candour as a writer, to decency as an ecclesiastic, and to meekness as a Christian.”—“This republication may, therefore, deter, and it is certainly intended to deter, others from indulging any mean expectation, that a calumniator can derive security from the very failures of his calumnies; or that what has been repeatedly and deliberately done in secret, will not, sooner or later, be punished openly. It may lessen, and is certainly intended to lessen, the number of those who speak too well of a man, by whom Warburton was most extravagantly flattered, Leland most petulantly insulted, and Jortin most inhumanly vilified.”1

Such were the motives—and who will deny that they are just and worthy?—which led to the republication of the Warburtonian tracts; and from the same motives avowedly were written the celebrated dedication and preface, which accompanied them. This dedication, addressed to Bishop Hurd, as well as the preface that followed it, is written, as the reader is aware, in a strain of vehement and indignant remonstrance against the contemptuous and domineering spirit, which marked so disgracefully the character of his master and his own; and which, on the two occasions just noticed, broke forth, in a torrent of malignant

1 Preface to the Two Tracts, &c. pp. 178, 179.

abuse, bearing down before it all the due restraints of literary courtesy, and even of social civility.

It is true, the wrongs complained of, in the case of Leland and Jortin, were not, at the time of this publication, of very recent date. But “as no healing balm had been poured into their wounded spirits, by the hand which pierced them,” while they lived; and as no sufficient vindication had been offered to their injured names by others, either before or since their death; it was worthy of Dr. Parr to stand forth in their defence; to claim for them the respect which is their due; and to cause “the blighted laurels of their fame to spring up afresh, and to blossom anew,” over their graves. Most just and most grateful, indeed, is the highly-wrought eulogium, here bestowed upon the two great names, which Warburton dishonoured, and which Hurd insulted.1

It is seriously to be regretted, that the literary intolerance which ought to have been subdued, even in Warburton, by the general indignation of scholars, and by the strong remonstrances, in particular, of Bishop Lowth, Dr. Sykes, Henry Taylor,2 and others, unhappily survived him, and shed all its evil influence over the mind of Dr. Hurd; who had by no means the same excuse to offer, from natural irritability of temper, or from great superiority of talent. That high estimation of self, and that proud contempt of others, for mere difference of opinion, which he had too often discovered in his life and in his writings, were most offen-

1 See these given in a future page. 2 Vicar of Crawley.

sively exhibited, in what may be regarded as his last act, in the posthumous publication referred to in a former page. If Dr. Hurd had committed no other offence, he would have merited the severest censure for the low and wretched abuse, which he has poured out upon many good men, and many good and even great scholars—in the volume of “Letters between himself and an eminent prelate, lately deceased.” The scurrilous language,1 of which there is so much reason to complain, proceeded, indeed, chiefly from the pen of Warburton; but even for this, who is to be made responsible to the moral and the literary world? Not surely he, who wrote the letters in strictest confidence to a friend: no!—but he, who, after long and cool deliberation, printed them in his lifetime, and published them, by an express

1 Exemp. grat. “The mad Whiston.”—“That extreme poor creature, Spence,” (author of Polymetis, &c.)—“That scoundrel Voltaire.”—“That wretched fellow, Priestley.”—“Taylor more duncified than the dunce Webster,” (the former the learned editor of Demosthenes, &c. the latter an author of good repute.)—“Dr. Young, the finest writer of nonsense of any in this age.”—“Licking up the drivel of the Hoadleians.”—“The wretch Jackson (author of Ancient Chronology, &c.) spent his days in the republic of letters, in one unvaried course of begging, railing, and stealing.”—“Joseph Warton’s impertinence.”—“The vagabond Scot’s (Smollett’s) written nonsense.”—“Lowth’s wit and reasoning, God knows and I also, are much below the qualities, that deserve those names.”—“Leland’s second thoughts, as nonsensical as the first.”—“Jortin as vain as he is dirty.”—“His conduct mean, low, ungrateful.”—“His friends dirty fellows.”—“His heart full of rancour.”—“His overrating his abilities, and the public’s underrating them, made so gloomy a temper eat his own heart,” &c. &c.

order, after his death. It wears the appearance of a mean and dastardly spirit, in the “wary bishop,” to resolve to put forth his scurrilities to the world; but not till he himself should be placed beyond the reach of that indignation, which they were sure to excite, and of those animadversions which, he might justly dread they would provoke.

If, then, it be considered how easily men of high powers and attainments are betrayed into a spirit of dogmatism, and what mischief is done to the cause of truth and learning, by the admission of despotical authority into the republic of letters; it was desirable that the last decisive blow should be given to claims so outrageous, as those of Warburton and his followers, and an example held up as a warning against all future attempts to fetter the right of private opinion, and the freedom of public discussion, among literary men. This important service, by the present publication, Dr. Parr has performed with incomparable ability; and he has thus entitled himself to the gratitude of all, who wish well to the moral and intellectual improvement of mankind.

But though the views of public good, avowed by the author, might seem to explain sufficiently the origin of this extraordinary publication; yet there are some persons, who, not satisfied with this explanation, have thought themselves justified in ascribing it rather to motives of a more private and personal nature.

Disraeli, in his “Quarrels of Authors,” states it, as if it were a well-known fact, that “a great philologer delivered a memorable sermon, which, besides the sesquipedalia verba, was perhaps the longest that ever was heard: that a certain bishop, who had always played the part of one of the most wary of politicians1 in private life, and who thoroughly understood the meaning and use of the French word retenue, was heard, in an unguarded moment, to declare that he did not like the doctor’s vernacular sermon; and that this being reported to the person whom it most concerned, the mighty and vindictive Grecian collected the rejected works of the bishop and his patron; and has furnished posterity with a specimen of the force of his vernacular style, giving to the wary bishop a lesson, which he had scarcely ever wanted all his life, of the danger of an unlucky epithet.”2

The same story is repeated by the author of the “Pursuits of Literature” in one of his notes. “The unfortunate Education-Sermon,” says he, “Bishop Hurd happened to dislike.—Hinc illæ lacrymæ! This produced the republication of Warburton’s and Hurd’s Tracts, with the splendid and astonishing Dedication by Dr. Parr.”3 Indeed, it must be owned that the story receives some countenance from the following passage in the Dedication itself: “Knowing, my Lord,” says the writer, “the rooted antipathy, which you bear to long epistolary introductions in classical writers, to long vernacular sermons from Dr. Parr, and to long Latin anno-

1 “In Parr’s sarcastic but eloquent Dedication, he deals a severe blow or two at Bishop Hurd, for certain crawling but thriving qualities, &c.”—New Monthly Mag. Dec. 1826.

2 Quarrels of Authors, vol. iii. p. 287.

3 Pursuits of Literature, p. 115.

tations from Philip D’Orville, I will take care not to stray beyond the limits of a just and legitimate dedication.”1

There are others, again, who think they can plainly discover the true origin of this publication in the following remarkable passage; in which the writer, describing what Warburton was not, certainly meant to describe what Hurd, in his estimation, was: “He, my Lord, threw a cloud over no man’s brighter prospects of prosperity or honour, by dark and portentous whispers, in the ears of the powerful. He, in private company, blasted no man’s good name, by shedding over it the cold and deadly mildews of insinuation. He was too magnanimous to undermine, when his duty and his honour prompted him to overthrow. He was too sincere, to disguise the natural haughtiness and irritability of his temper, under a specious veil of humility and meekness. He never thought it expedient to save appearances, by shaking off the shackles of consistency—to soften the hideous aspect of certain uncourtly opinions, by a calm and progressive apostacy—to expiate the artless and animated effusions of his youth, by the example of an obsequious and temporising old age. He began not, as others have done, with speculative republicanism; nor did he end it, as the same persons are now doing, with practical toryism. He was a churchman without bigotry. He was a politician without duplicity. He was a loyalist without servility.”

Considered as compositions, the Dedication and the Preface to the Warburtonian Tracts have been

1 Dedication to the Two Tracts, &c. p. 170.

generally regarded as among Dr. Parr’s happiest efforts; and have certainly established his claim to a distinguished rank, among the great writers of his age. All the excellencies of his style, here, burst “like a flood of glory” on the astonished and delighted reader; though, it must be owned, that its usual defects are almost equally conspicuous, especially his excessive and inveterate love of antithesis.

But though constituting a great fault, when carried to excess, yet antithesis in itself, as all know, is one of the most pleasing and powerful figures of rhetoric; and many striking specimens of it occur in the volume, now under consideration. Thus, in the following passage, the literary portraitures of the two prelates are placed together, in strong contrast; and it will be owned, that the likeness is sufficiently exact in the case of Warburton, whilst in the case of Hurd it approaches far too much towards caricature.

“He blundered against grammar; and you refined against idiom. He, from a defect of taste, contaminated English by Gallicism; and you, from excess of affectation, sometimes disgraced what would have risen to ornamental and dignified writing, by a profuse mixture of vulgar or antiquated phraseology. He soared into sublimity, without effect; and you, by effort, sunk into a kind of familiarity, which, without leading to perspicuity, borders upon meanness. He was great, by the energies of nature; and you were little, by the misapplication of art. He, to show his strength, piled up huge and rugged masses of learning; and you, to show your skill, split and shivered them into what your brother critic calls ψήγματα χαί άραιώματα. He sometimes reached the force of Longinus, but without his elegance; and you exhibited the intricacies of Aristotle, but without his exactness.”

Yet not only is full justice done, but high praise awarded, to the beauties and elegancies, which, “amidst many laughable and many loathsome singularities,” adorn their writings.

“Often has my mind hung with fondness and with admiration over the crowded, yet clear and luminous galaxies of imagery, diffused through the works of Bishop Taylor, the mild and unsullied lustre of Addison, the variegated and expanded eloquence of Burke, the exuberant and dignified ease of Middleton, the gorgeous declamation of Bolingbroke, and the majestic energy of Johnson. But were I to do justice, my Lord, to the more excellent parts of your own writings, or of Warburton’s, I should say that the English language, even in its widest extent, cannot furnish passages more strongly marked, either by grandeur in the thought, by felicity in the expression, by pauses various and harmonious, or by full and sonorous periods.”

Thus again, in the following passage, their mental prowess and intellectual achievements are described; and, by the help of the favourite antithesis, brought into contrast:

“To grapple with the unwieldy was among the frolics of Warburton, whilst your Lordship toiled in chasing the subtle. He often darkened the subject, and you perplexed it. He, by the boldness and magnitude of his conceptions, overwhelmed our minds with astonishment, and you, by the singularity and nicety of your quibbles, benumbed them with surprise. In him, we find our intellectual powers expanded and invigorated by the full and vivid representation which he sometimes holds up, both of common and uncommon objects, while you, my lord, contrive to cramp and to cripple them by all the tedious formalities of minute and scrupulous analysis. He scorned every appearance of soothing the reader into attention, and you failed in almost every attempt to decoy him into conviction. He instructed, even where he did not persuade, and you, by your petulant and contemptuous gibes, disgusted every man of sense, whom you might otherwise have amused by your curious and showy conceits.”

But though alive to the serious defects of Warburton, both as a man and as a writer, yet generous justice is done to all his great and shining excellencies, in the following passages:

“The Bishop of Gloucester, amidst all his fooleries in criticism, and all his outrages in controversy, certainly united a most vigorous and comprehensive intellect with an open and generous heart. As a friend, he was zealous and constant; and, as an enemy, he properly describes himself to have been choleric, but not implacable.”

“What I have written about Warburton was suggested to me, by a frequent but unprejudiced perusal, and by a fond, though not undistinguishing approbation of his works. I read them, in the earliest and the happiest stages of my literary pursuits. They captivated my imagination; they exercised my reason; they directed my attention towards the most important topics; and they sent out my curiosity in quest of the most useful knowledge. The impressions made upon my mind were strong and deep.”

“The dawn of Warburton’s fame was overspread with many clouds, which the native force of his mind quickly dispelled. Soon after his emersion from them, he was honoured by the friendship of Pope, and the enmity of Bolingbroke. In the fulness of his meridian glory, he was caressed by Lord Hardwicke and Lord Mansfield; and his setting lustre was viewed with nobler feelings than those of mere forgiveness, by the amiable and venerable Dr. Lowth. Halifax revered him: Balguy loved him; and, in two immortal works, Johnson has stood forth in the foremost rank of his admirers. By the testimony of such a man, impertinence may be abashed, and malignity itself may be softened.”

These few extracts may serve to give, to the reader, some idea of the nature and the spirit of this powerful remonstrance against moral and literary injustice, though supported by all the imposing influence of rank and talent. Curiosity might be disposed to inquire, what impression was produced by it, on the mind of him, to whom it was principally addressed? But all such curiosity will find itself stopped and baffled by the impenetrable silence, within which the “wary bishop” thought it best to retire and entrench himself. Not only did he adopt the resolution of offering no formal defence, but he studiously avoided, in his subsequent publications, the slightest allusion either to the bold remonstrant or to the subject of his appeal. It should appear, however, as if he never felt, or as if he affected not to feel, the disgrace, which he had brought upon himself, by the shameless attempt to debase and to defame two fair and illustrious names, of which one at least will probably descend to posterity with more honour than his own. “Among some occurrences in his life,” prefixed to his collected works, he has coolly noted down the two obnoxious publications, with the proper dates, but without the least expression of concern or regret at the sentence of reprobation which had been pronounced by the verdict of public opinion against them. In his “Life of Warburton,” too, not a word of apology occurs for the serious wrong to others, which in this and so many instances, was done by his great master and by himself; and, to crown all, in his posthumous volume of “Letters,” he has repeated, publicly and deliberately, after a long interval of time, amid the cool reflections of age, and in the full prospect of death, those rude jeers and calumnious reproaches, which, if uttered in the heat of controversy, would have been in a far less degree censurable; or which, if confined to the privacy of confidential communication, would not of course have been amenable at all, before the bar of public judgment. No one has a right to pry into the secrecy of an epistolary correspondence; but when such correspondence is put forth to the world, by one of the parties engaged in it, that party becomes, like any other author, responsible to the public. The secret whispers thus proclaimed aloud, from that moment become open calumnies; and as long as his book is known, and the real state of facts remembered, so long the offending individual will remain self-branded with the guilt and the shame of a public reviler and slanderer.

Annexed to “Leland’s Dissertation on the principles of Human Eloquence,” in Dr. Parr’s library, is the following note: “This copy was given to me by Dr. Leland himself; and thinking that he had confuted his opponent, and that his opponent had treated him with unbecoming and unmerited scorn, I republished the whole dispute. I dedicated the book to Bishop Hurd, and the dedication was followed by no answer. S. P.” But, though not from Dr. Hurd himself, yet an answer soon came forth from one of his friends, Dr. Lucas, who had been presented by him to the rectory of Ripple, in Worcestershire. “It is a well-meant defence of his learned patron,” says Dr. Parr; who adds, that “he found nothing in it to blame, but a very rash, invidious, and groundless charge of having written some puffs in the newspapers about his own learning and his claims to ecclesiastical preferment.”1 He afterwards mentions that a copy of it was sent by the author, with his written compliments, to Dr. Parr, “who read it, with much entertainment from its vivacity, with no conviction from its argument, and with calm contempt at the false and injurious intimation contained in it.”2

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 443. 2 Id. p. 651.

Some manuscript extracts from “Hurd’s Life of Warburton” are accompanied with the following note: “That Life was prefixed to the posthumous 4to. edition of Warburton’s Works, and therefore could in print be possessed only by the subscribers. The learned Mr. Gaches1 was a subscriber, and lent the book to Dr. Parr; who caused extracts to be made, from some apprehension he might have occasion for them, if any unseen and unpleasant event should render it necessary for him to resume the controversy with Bishop Hurd. Dr. Parr met with many passages which offended him; but as the names of Dr. Jortin and Dr. Leland were studiously avoided, Dr. Parr was resolved not to defend any other excellent men, whom the biographer had treated harshly. Archbishop Secker found an advocate in Mr. W.——. Dr. Parr lamented the languor of the Wykehamists, in suffering the unjust attack upon Bishop Lowth to pass unnoticed.2 Dr. Parr, in the correspondence between Hurd and Warburton, met with some offensive matter about Leland and Jortin; but as, in consequence of Warburton’s life, written by Hurd, and softened too, in all probability by Dr. Parr’s publication, and perhaps extorted from Hurd sooner than he intended to let it see the light, there has been a considerable change in pub-

1 See p. 202.

2 What can be more outrageously unjust than the following representations? “Bishop Lowth’s Latin Lectures on Hebrew Poetry,” says Dr. Hurd, “are written in a vein of criticism not above the common; and his translation of Isaiah is chiefly valuable, as it shows how little is to be expected from a new translation of the Bible for public use.”—Life of Warburton.

lic opinion, Dr. Parr determined not to take up his pen.”1

“Many notable discoveries,” says Dr. Parr in his dedicatory address to Dr. Hurd, “might be made by comparing the variæ lectiones, the clippings and the filings, the softenings and the varnishings, of sundry constitutional doctrines as they crept by little and little into certain ‘Political Dialogues.’” This statement is denied by a writer in the British Critic;2 but to his copy of these dialogues the following note is subjoined by Dr. Parr:3 “For the purpose of knowing whether I had once spoken too severely of Bishop Hurd, respecting the changes silently and gradually made in his celebrated dialogues, I carefully compared the fourth edition with the two former ones; and the result was, my conviction that I had done the bishop no injustice. If I had thought differently, my determination was to retract and apologise. S. P.”4

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 535. 2 Brit. Crit. Feb. 1812.

3 Bibl. Parr. p. 439.

4 “Dr. Hurd, it is well known, published, at one period of his life, Moral and Political Dialogues with a woful whiggish cast. Afterwards, his Lordship having thought better, came to see his error, and republished his work, with a more constitutional spirit. Johnson, however, was unwilling to allow him full credit for his conversion. I remember, when his Lordship declined the honour of being Abp. of Canterbury, Johnson said, ‘I am glad he did not go to Lambeth; for, after all, I fear he is a Whig in his heart.’”—Boswell’s Life of Johnson, vol. iv. p. 202.

CHAPTER XIX. A.D. 1790—1792. Dr. Parr’s friendship with the Writer—Ordination-service in Warwick Chapel—attended by Dr. Parr—The public dinner honoured by his presence—His friendly intercourse with Dr. Priestley—His sympathy with the sufferings—his testimonies to the merits—his inscription to the memory of Dr. Priestley—His opinion of Bishop Horsley—Mr. Belsham—Bishop Burgess.

In the course of his narration, he, who writes these pages, now approaches a period peculiarly interesting to himself, because it was the period of his first acquaintance with the highly distinguished person, to whose memory they are, with mingled reverence and affection, dedicated. Thirty-six years ago, that acquaintance began; and it soon ripened into a friendship, kind and condescending, the writer is sensible, on the one part, grateful and respectful, he is sure, on the other. He thinks he may here adopt and apply the language of a favourite author: “Ego admiratione quadam virtutis ejus; ille vicissim opinione fortasse nonnulla, quam de meis moribus habebat, me dilexit: auxit benevolentiam consuetude”1

Through the long space of time just mentioned, living within the distance of four miles, his intercourse with Dr. Parr was frequent, and always

1 Cic. de Am.

to himself improving and delightful.1 Their conversation on the various subjects of literature, morals, religion, and politics, when alone, was checked by no reserve, and fettered by no restraint. Their opinions sometimes differed; yet rarely did that difference create, even for a moment, one unpleasant thought, and never one unkindly feeling. When literary advice or literary aid was sought from Dr. Parr, it was always cheerfully afforded. In every joy and sorrow of life, to no friendly bosom was it possible to turn, the grateful recollection of the writer testifies, which beat more fervently with sympathetic pleasure, or throbbed more acutely with sympathetic pain.

Others have complained, and apparently not without just reason, of the loss of Dr. Parr’s friendly regards from slight or insufficient causes. But it has been the fortune of the writer to possess and enjoy all the pleasures and advantages of that friendship, without interruption, from the day of its first commencing to the hour which closes, in this world, all human friendships. He boldly adds, that though a sincere and profound admirer, he was no flatterer of Dr. Parr; and that the firmness, and sometimes even the warmth with which he opposed in him whatever appeared to his own honest judgment erroneous in opinion, or wrong in action, instead of diminishing the kind and 1 Artificemque tuo ducit sub pollice vultum: Tecum etenira longos mem in i consumere soles.—Pers. affectionate regard with which he was honoured, confirmed and increased it.1

In July, 1790, the writer was ordained minister of the High-street Chapel, in Warwick; when the sermon,2 usually addressed at such a time to the congregation, was delivered by Dr. Priestley; and the charge, usually addressed to the minister, by Mr. Belsham. “On that occasion,” as Dr. Parr himself relates, “having never witnessed the ceremony of ordination among the dissenters, he was present.”3 On the preceding Sunday, too, as he also relates, “knowing that, in the city of Dublin, churchmen, dissenters, and catholics, lay aside all distinctions to attend sermons for charity-schools, he was present, when Dr. Priestley delivered a sermon of that kind in the same chapel.”—“He thought it no disgrace,” are his own words, “to go and hear a sensible discourse, delivered by a distinguished preacher, however he might differ from him upon abstruse points of speculation.”—“Very few and very simple,” said he, on another occasion, “are the truths, which we have any of us a right to pronounce necessary to salvation. It is extremely unsafe to bewilder the judgment, or to inflame the passions of men, upon those abstruse subjects of controversy, about which bigots indeed may dogmatise with fierce and imperious confidence; whilst they, who are scholars with

1 See App. No. V.

2 This sermon was afterwards published. Dr. Parr notes it, in his Catalogue of Books, as “a very judicious sermon.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 549.

3 Sequel, p. 100.

out pedantry, and believers without superstition, are content to differ from each other, with sentiments of mutual respect and mutual forbearance.”1

The ordination-services of the chapel, just mentioned, were followed, as usual upon such occasions, by a public dinner, to which Dr. Parr had been previously invited. In the most obliging manner, he accepted the invitation; and nothing could exceed the greeting of joyful welcome, with which he was received, on entering, the room where the company was assembled. The present writer, young as he then was, may be pardoned, when he confesses the pride mingled with the pleasure which he felt, on being placed at the head of the table, to see himself supported on his right by Dr. Parr, and on his left by Dr. Priestley, two of the most celebrated divines—one of his own, and the other of the national church,—honoured, too, with the presence of a third divine, Mr. Belsham, scarcely less distinguished than the former, and of several other ministers of great respectability; and surrounded by a large company of friends and well-wishers. To him it was, indeed, an interesting and important day; and he still looks back to the honours of it, with delighted recollection, not unmingled, he hopes, with sentiments of a higher and more serious nature. “Unus ille dies sibi quidem immortalitatis instar fuit.”

The conversation, as might be supposed, was

1 Discourse on Education, p. 25.

animated and instructive; and amidst other subjects, turned much on the good old times of William III. and the two first Georges: when churchmen and dissenters met together, in friendly intercourse; and when the points about which they differ were forgotten and disregarded, in consideration of the great points, in which all are agreed. Dr. Parr expressed his sentiments on this pleasing topic, with all his usual energy and eloquence, much in the manner, and entirely in the spirit of the following passage, from one of his own published discourses: “I would have our young men educated in the sentiments of the warmest affection, and the highest reverence, for the established religion of this free and enlightened country. I would at the same time endeavour to convince them, that, in all the various modes of Christian faith, a serious observer may discover some sound principles, and many worthy men. I would tell them that the wise and the good cherish within their own bosom a religion, yet more pure and perfect than any formulary of speculation they externally profess; that their agreements upon points of supreme and indisputable moment is greater, perhaps, than they may themselves suspect; and that upon subjects, the evidence of which is doubtful, and the importance of which is secondary, their difference is nominal rather than real, and often deserves to be imputed to the excess of vanity or zeal in the controversialist, more than to any defects of sagacity or integrity in the inquirer.”1

1 Discourse on Education, p. 27.

It was on the above occasion, that Dr. Parr was introduced to a personal acquaintance with Dr. Priestley. But it appears from one of his earliest publications, that he had long entertained for him all the sentiments expressed in the following words: “The man lives not, who has a more sincere veneration for his talents and his virtues, than I have.”1 In another publication, he remarks: “Having had occasion, in one of my works, to censure Dr. Priestley, when he had replied with equal firmness and equal politeness, I was so graceless, as neither to despise nor hate him.”2

In the same publication he relates, that when “he preached for the charity-schools at Birmingham, he earnestly recommended to the attention of his audience two admirable sermons, written by Dr. Priestley, one of which is on Habitual Devotion, and the other on The duty of not living to ourselves.”2 But though he stated that he bestowed, upon these sermons, the praise which they deserve, yet he has not stated the high and energetic terms, worthy of himself, in which that praise was conveyed. “Of the two sermons, now mentioned,” said the eloquent preacher, “I confidently affirm, that the wisest man cannot read them without being wiser, nor the best man without being better.” All, who have perused the excellent sermons, here referred to, must acknowledge, that great and generous as the praise is, it is not more than equal to their merits.

1 Discourse on Education, notes, p. 15.

2 Sequel, p. 98, 99.

With such strong prepossessions in favour of Dr. Priestley, none will be surprised to hear, that Dr. Parr was eager to embrace the opportunity of forming an acquaintance with him; and that the acquaintance, thus begun, was the commencement of a friendship, which was terminated only by death. From this time, their intercourse was not unfrequent; and yet, says Dr. Parr, “living as I have done, for the space of more than five years, within the distance of sixteen miles from Dr. Priestley, I have seen him far less often, than one man of letters would wish to see another, under the same circumstances.”1

But even this degree of personal intercourse, too scanty for their mutual wishes, was of short continuance; for, beginning in July 1790, it was closed by the hand of violence, for ever, on the dreadful fourteenth of July 1791. Deep is the blot of shame, with which that period is marked in the annals of English history! Blind and infatuated bigotry broke loose from all the restraints of law, and even of common justice and humanity; and its rage, artfully excited and fomented by interested men, was basely directed against one obnoxious, but most virtuous and illustrious individual. His house, his library, his philosophical apparatus, the most truly valuable and useful that any individual ever possessed; his manuscripts, the labours of many years of his life, were all consumed in one tremendous conflagration; and his life itself was saved only by flight. Nor did his persecution end here.

1 Sequel, p. 105.

Followed by the same unrelenting bigotry whithersoever he went—his peace incessantly annoyed—his name perpetually insulted—he was at length obliged to fly from a country, of which he ought to have been the pride and the joy, and to take refuge on a foreign shore, whence he never returned.—“O quam indigna perpeteris!”

Such was the barbarous persecution—reviving, at the end of the eighteenth century, all the bad spirit of the dark ages—which the great and excellent man was fated to endure, with whom Dr. Parr had so lately entered into pleasing and friendly intercourse; and whom, far from slighting and deserting him under these trying circumstances, he drew closer to his heart. The high estimation in which he had ever held his talents, and his moral worth, was raised still higher, by commiseration for sufferings, so great and unmerited, and by admiration of the calm composure, so worthy the philosopher, and of the magnanimous forgiveness, so becoming the Christian, with which they were endured. After Dr. Priestley’s flight from Birmingham, during the short interval of his continuance in England, when few opportunities of personal communication occurred, Dr. Parr wrote to him frequent letters either of advice or condolence; and when far removed from his native land, Dr. Parr still followed him, with kind and friendly sympathy; and never shrunk from the task, invidious and even dangerous as it then was, of standing forth, in attestation of his merits, or in vindication of his honourable fame, against all his ignorant or malignant opposers.

It would be unjust to withhold the following encomium, written, it must be remembered, at a time, when the great name, on which its praises are so liberally bestowed, was, more than usually, the object of the boldest and the bitterest calumnies.

“Let Dr. Priestley be confuted, where he is mistaken. Let him be exposed, where he is superficial. Let him be repressed, where he is dogmatical. Let him be rebuked, where he is censorious. But let not his attainments be depreciated, because they are numerous, almost without a parallel. Let not his talents be ridiculed, because they are superlatively great. Let not his morals be vilified, because they are correct without austerity, and exemplary without ostentation; because they present, even to common observers, the innocence of a hermit and the simplicity of a patriarch; and because a philosophic eye will at once discover in them the deep-fixed root of virtuous principle, and the solid trunk of virtuous habit.”1

Who can decide—whether the sentiments in the following passage are more honourable to him, by whom they were uttered, or to him on whose behalf they were so generously expressed—especially “the evil days” and “the evil tongues” considered, on which they had then so unhappily fallen?

“I have visited him, as I hope to visit him again, because he is an unaffected, unassuming, and very interesting companion. I will not, in

1 Letter from Irenopolis, p. 18.

consequence of our different opinions, either impute to him the evil which he does not, or depreciate in him the good which he is allowed to do. I will not debase my understanding, or prostitute my honour, by encouraging the clamours which have been raised against him, in vulgar minds, by certain persons, who would have done well to read before they wrote—to understand, before they dogmatised—to examine, before they condemned. I cannot think his religion insincere, because he worships one Deity, in the name of one Saviour; and I know that his virtues, in private life, are acknowledged by his neighbours, admired by his congregation, and regarded almost by the unanimous suffrage of his most powerful and most distinguished antagonists. Upon every subject of literature which comes within my reach, I will talk, and I will write to him, without reserve; and, in proportion as his opinions may appear to me to approach truth, and to recede from it, I shall assent without reluctance, or dissent without dissimulation.”1

Early in 1804 death deprived the world of the great philosopher and divine, of whom blind and remorseless bigotry had, ten years before, bereaved his country; and when his former congregation, at Birmingham, did honour to themselves by erecting a monument to his memory, from the pen of Dr. Parr proceeded the inscription,2 which conveys to posterity the admiration of his virtues and the

1 Sequel to a printed Paper, p. 106

2 App. No. III.

gratitude for his services, excited in the minds of those who had the best opportunities of estimating the true excellence of the one, and appreciating the full value of the other. Attached to the mention of “Codex Theodori Beza Cantabrigiensis Evangelia et Apostolorum Acta complectens,” in the catalogue of Dr. Parr’s library, is the following note:—“This beautiful edition of Beza’s Text was given to me spontaneously and politely, by order of the vestry of the Unitarians of Birmingham, soon after I had written an English inscription for Dr. Priestley, whose monument is erected in the Unitarian Chapel. He was an eminently great and truly good man; and Dr. Parr’s most respected, most injured and calumniated friend. S. P.” Excellent and admirable, indeed, is the example, of what is most generous and noble in human character, presented to the view—when Parr is beheld—defending the calumniated name of Priestley, whilst living—and recording his just praises, in a monumental inscription, when no more!

A bold polemic, like Dr. Priestley, fearlessly attacking the main articles of the popular creed, and publicly challenging its advocates to stand forth in its defence, soon found himself assailed, as might have been expected, by a whole host of adversaries. Amongst these came forward, with proud look and menacing air, that celebrated champion of high orthodoxy and high episcopacy, Dr. Horsley; who was richly rewarded for his exertions, by being promoted successively to the see of St. David’s, Rochester, and St. Asaph. He was a man endued with great powers of mind, and possessed of vast stores of erudition; of that kind, especially, which is usually denominated recondite. His writings are numerous; some valuable, and all bearing the stamp of his superior genius and learning. But, as a controversialist, he was extremely unfair and illiberal; never hesitating to resort, when argument failed, to disingenuous artifice, or contemptuous reproach. His avowed purpose of vilifying or destroying the honourable fame of his illustrious opponent, in order to diminish the authority of his name, and the influence of his writings, was a project worthy the darkest times of popish ignorance and superstition; when to falsify and deceive, for the honour and the interest of the church, was regarded as virtuous. Never was censure more just, or more deserved, than that which was cast upon him by Dr. Parr, in the following passage: “In too many instances such modes of defence have been used by him against this formidable heresiarch, as would hardly be justifiable against the arrogance of a Bolingbroke, the buffoonery of a Mandeville, and the levity of a Voltaire.”

But if the censorious spirit of Bishop Horsley’s religion was an object of abhorrence to Dr. Parr, equally so was the arbitrary spirit of his politics. It is impossible ever to forget, and it will be difficult even to forgive, the treasonable offence, committed against the sacred rights of men and of Britons, by that amazing and monstrous declaration, uttered in his place in parliament, “that the people have nothing to do with the laws but to obey them.” The strong indignation excited in the mind of Dr. Parr, by so extreme an outrage against all the natural feelings, and constitutional principles of Englishmen, burst forth in a keen and cutting remonstrance, addressed to the mitred pleader for Ottoman law on British soil. It was armed with a threefold sting, such as the bitterest terms from the three languages, most sacred to freedom could supply; and was composed in the triple form of English blank verse, Latin iambics, and Greek hexameters.1

Among the divines engaged in the ordination-service, as above related, was the Rev. Thomas Belsham, formerly tutor in the academy at Daventry, and afterwards in the college at Hackney; and subsequently, the successor of the excellent and venerable Theophilus Lindsey, as minister of Essex-street Chapel, in London. He was then first introduced to the personal acquaintance of Dr. Parr; and from that time a friendly intimacy commenced, which proved the unfailing source of mutual pleasure. Dr. Parr always spoke of Mr. Belsham in terms of high regard; and often expressed admiration of his talents as a man, of his attainments as a scholar, and his powers as a writer.

One of the latest of the numerous publications, with which Mr. Belsham has favoured the world, is “A Translation and Exposition of the Epistles of Paul the Apostle, with notes.” This work, Dr. Parr considered as one of the most important theological works, that have appeared for a century past. Of the preliminary dissertation in particular, as a clear, reasonable and judicious exposition of

1 New Monthly Mag. Aug. 1826. He denominated Horsley, in the Greek verse, Ίππώτης.

the principles, which ought to guide every translator of the apostolic writings, Dr. Parr declared the most unqualified approbation. “With the author of that dissertation,” said he on one occasion to the present writer, “I go along smoothly and delightfully from the beginning to the end, with perfect accordance of sentiment, and the most complete satisfaction of mind.” As an expositor, too, he thought Mr. Belsham, in exploring the sense of the author, acute, profound, and above all conscientious; and in explaining it, learned, ingenious, and eminently successful. “Yes!” said he, upon another occasion to the writer, “this is, indeed, a work, of which those of your church may well be proud, and with which the reasonable of every church might well be pleased.” If, as a grateful pupil, penetrated with a deep sense of obligations long ago contracted, but never to be forgotten, the writer feels some elation of mind in recording this high encomium on the great work of a revered and beloved tutor, he is sure he will easily be pardoned.1

As the great public advocate for the Unitarian faith, it might almost be said that Mr. Belsham succeeded into the place of the zealous, the active, the intrepid Priestley; and many are the contro-

1 “The Epistles of Paul translated, &c. This excellent work of Belsham was given to me by the writer. I do not entirely agree with him upon some doctrinal points; but I ought to commend the matter, style, and spirit of the preface; and, in my opinion, the translation does great credit to the diligence, judgment, erudition, and piety of my much respected friend. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 21.

versies, in which he has been summoned, by the call of friends, or the challenge of adversaries, to engage. In all these controversies, Dr. Parr felt no inconsiderable interest: those, especially, in which the opponents were Bishop Howley, Bishop Burgess, and Dr. Moysey. The “Letters,” addressed by Mr. Belsham, to the first of these prelates, Dr. Parr thought were to be commended, equally for the fairness of the reasoning, the courteousness of the manner, and the vigour and vivacity of the style. The answer to the Bampton lecturer, Dr. Parr pronounced “a most able reply indeed;”1 and though severe and caustic, yet not more so than the bad temper of the lecturer, the rude strain of his invectives, and the calumnious nature of his charges, justly merited. Of the learning, the virtue and the piety of Bishop Burgess, Dr. Parr entertained a high opinion; but he estimated, at a lower rate, the strength of his understanding, the soundness of his judgment, and the correctness of his opinions.2 “It was grievous,” he

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 21.

2 “The Divinity of Christ proved from his own declarations, &c. by Bp. Burgess. From the eminently learned and truly pious author.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 567.—And so, as the reader probably knows, “the little secret” is told—told by one of the high orthodox party—told with all the indignation, which all honest men of all parties must feel! See Gent. Mag. Oct. 1827. There it will be seen, proved by credible testimony, that, after the above note, stands in the original Ms. of the Catalogue the following words—He does not convince me. “Few but significant words!” exclaims the detecter of the artifice; on the omission of which he has justly fixed the broad mark of “disingenuousness.”—“To my mind,” adds he, “on the subject of Dr. Parr’s religious opinions, these few words

often exclaimed with a sigh, “to find a man and a prelate of so much real worth and dignity of character, among the feeblest of reasoners, and the boldest of railers against those sectaries—of whom—erroneous though they may be in opinion—what Archbishop Tillotson once said, all fair judging men will still say—‘that they are entitled to respect for their learning and their talent, and no less so for their sincerity and their exemplariness.’”1

It was the unhappiness of the present writer to be embroiled, very early in life, in a contest with some of the high churchmen of Warwick; who were urged on by two or three of their clergy, certainly, not the most distinguished among their brethren for understanding, learning, or character. On the first establishment of their own Sunday-

speak volumes.” It is reported that other omissions, equally important, have been discovered by means of printed copies of cancelled sheets, which have found their way into the hands of several persons; by some of whom, it is hoped, they will be given to the public. But there is another and a better hope, which the writer ventures to express, namely, that by immediately publishing the omitted parts, the editor of the Catalogue will make his own amende honorable for conduct so unfair to the public, and so discreditable to himself. The apology set up by the editor of the Gent. Mag., if it justify the omission of what would hurt the feelings of any living person—which, indeed, is as far as the apologist carries it, and which, even to that extent, might be questioned—yet beyond that point, certainly, the apology cannot for a moment be admitted. The opinions on important subjects which Dr. Parr has recorded, with a view to publication, most surely cannot be suppressed, without at once defrauding the public of their right, and doing violence to those wishes of the dead, which all are accustomed to regard with reverence as sacred.

1 Birch’s Life of Tillotson, p. 321.

schools, by an express rule, non-parishioners were excluded; when another school, principally though not solely for the benefit of the excluded children, was instituted; and it was this school, superintended by the writer himself, which became the object of the vehement and angry contention just alluded to. The jealousy, or, as they said, “the alarm”1 of the good friends of the church being excited—after much private altercation, and several public meetings, held in due form at the court-house, his worshipful the mayor presiding—an order was issued to the supporters of the obnoxious school, requiring them to dismiss the scholars, and shut up the school! Resistance to this order was followed by threats of ruined trade to those who were traders—and to others, threats of a visit from the church and king rioters of Birmingham, who were then in the full possession and the uncontrolled exercise of their tremendous power.2 The former threat was accomplished, but the latter failed; whether to the disappointment of those who had used it, can only be matter of conjecture. It is but justice to add, that the littleness and the iniquity of the whole transaction were the objects of scorn and reprobation to Dr. Parr, and to the best friends of the church in the town and the neighbourhood; and that the kind support which the writer and his friends received from him and from them, at that period of distress and dismay, were such as must ever remain fixed in grateful recollection, as long as the powers of memory shall last.

1 Words of a handbill publicly circulated.

2 See a list of the pamphlets published on this occasion, Bibl. Parr. p. 84.

CHAPTER XX. A.D. 1791—1792. Birmingham riots—Hatton-parsonage threatened—Dr. Parr’s opinions—on the causes of the riots—on Burke’s “Reflections”—on Paine’s “Rights of Man”—on Mackintosh’s “Vindiciæ Gallicæ”—on the French Revolution—on the wars with France—on the defection of the Whigs—Character of Mr. Burke—of Mr. Wyndham.

The course of the narrative has brought the reader into the midst of those disgraceful and direful scenes—the Birmingham riots. It is a subject, which the writer reluctantly approaches; and from which he wishes, as speedily as possible, to retire. He can truly say with Eneas, animus meminisse horret luctuque refugit; with Eneas, he may also say, quæque ipse miserrima vidi; and to the extent of threatened violence and dreaded danger at the time, and of painful annoyance from reproach and insult long afterwards, he may add, et quorum magna pars fui. In touching upon these horrible transactions, fearful of speaking with deeper feelings of indignation, and in stronger terms of reprobation, than at this distance of time, and under the very different circumstances of the present period, may seem proper or necessary, he will endeavour to say little; and what little he may find occasion to say, shall be said more in the words of Dr. Parr than in his own.

Never in the history of modern times, as the reader is no doubt aware, did the spirit of party rage more furiously, among all ranks of people in this country, than at the era of the French Revolution. By that astonishing event, the hopes and the fears of the friends and the enemies of popular freedom were equally and intensely excited. The high Tories both in church and state, supported by a powerful administration, assumed a terrific aspect, and set themselves in fierce and formidable array, against all the advocates for the rights of men and of nations. Most strenuous efforts were exerted, and most determined measures were adopted, not merely to foil, but to crush, every matured plan, or even distant proposal, which had for its object the reform of abuses, or the amelioration of law and government. At last, a dreadful project was concerted and carried into execution, of which the intent was to beat down, by one mighty blow, the rising spirit of liberty, and to lay it prostrate in the dust for years, if not for ages to come.

Of this horrible project, Birmingham was the chosen place;—the anniversary of the taking of the Bastile, July 14, 1791, intended to be celebrated by a public dinner, was the selected time;—and the dissenters, ever identified with the steadiest friends of civil and religious freedom, were the devoted victims. The passions and the prejudices of the vulgar, by every possible means, were previously aroused and inflamed. On the day appointed, a rabble was easily collected, and as easily incited to acts of violence and outrage, by the instigation of artful leaders; among whom some even of the clergy, and some even of the magistracy were found. Not only the chapels, but the dwelling-houses, the elegant villas and spacious mansions belonging to the dissenters, were laid in ashes, and the owners were obliged to fly in every direction for safety. All social feeling, all moral obligation, seemed to be at once suspended or abjured; and not only in Birmingham, but through the whole surrounding neighbourhood, to the distance of many miles, for the space of four or five days and nights, by the mad fury of churchmen acting on the drunken delirium of a mob—the reign of terror was complete.

For his well-known attachment to the great cause of liberty, and for his firm adherence to one of its most zealous and intrepid advocates, Dr. Parr, in these dreadful times, was exposed to much obloquy, to much serious inconvenience, and often to much alarming apprehension. “His principles were on a sudden gnawed at,” as he himself expresses it, “by vermin whispers, and worried by brutal reproaches: his house was marked for conflagration; his books were threatened with destruction; and for three days and three nights his family was agitated with consternation and dismay.” Well might he exclaim—“In what age, or in what country, do I live? Whither, as an unoffending citizen, shall I flee, for the protection of the laws? and where, as a diligent and faithful teacher of Christianity, shall I look for its salutary influence, even amongst those, who make their boast of being its most zealous defenders? ‘O superbiam inauditam! Alios in facinore gloriari, aliis ne dolere quidem impunitè licere!’ But the ways of Providence are unsearchable: and among all the anomalies, which baffle conjecture and afflict sensibility, in the moral world, the follies, the ficklenesses, and the passions of man are the most inexplicable and the most deplorable. He is a tyrant, in defence of liberty. He is a plunderer, in support of law. He is an oppressor, for the honour of government. He is a savage, in the very bosom of society. He becomes the unrelenting persecutor of his species, for the imaginary glory of his God.”1

The reader will be glad to learn, that the distance of Hatton from the scene of riot saved the parsonage-house; and that the arrival of the military, at the end of the fourth day, removed the apprehension of further mischief. Those who had the means of knowing how widely the evil spirit of Birmingham extended itself around, and with what malignant influence it acted, even on good minds, will think that no small praise is conferred by the following statement, which Dr. Parr has put upon record:—“I have great satisfaction in saying, that the sentiments of my parishioners, though very friendly, as I trust they always will be, to the interests and the honour of our ecclesiastical and civil establishments, were, in one or two instances only, marked by that sanguinary spirit of violence, which had pervaded other parts of the country. I am bound also to add, that the strenuous and kind assistance, which many of them gave my family in the hour of danger, will ever endear them to their

1 Sequel, p. 103.

minister, and entitle them to commendation from every well-wisher to the church and the state, in whom zeal is united with knowledge, and knowledge has been productive of charity and vital religion.”1

Of the dreadful outrages themselves, Dr. Parr thus delivers his opinion:—

“I know that the Birmingham riots were distinguished from the London riots, in 1780, by many singular and many hideous circumstances—by a seeming regularity of contrivance—by a strange chaos of levity and ferocity in the execution—by reports of the debility, reluctance, and outrageous partiality, in the administration of public justice—by the temporary extinction of common prudence, common justice, and common humanity in private companies—by the most shameless language of triumph in some diurnal and monthly publications—and by vestiges of such remorseless and ill-disguised approbation in certain well-educated men, here and elsewhere, as in times past would have steeled the heart, for participation in the massacre of St. Bartholomew, in the fires of Smithfield, and in those human sacrifices which the Christian world has often seen exhibited, as acts of faith, by the holy order of St. Dominic.—Pudet hæc opprobria!”2

The low and malignant passions, which kindled the fires of Birmingham, by no means subsided when those fires were extinguished, but continued long afterwards to exist; assuming a thousand

1 Sequel, p. 114. 2 lb. p. 113.

frightful shapes—in the form of songs, satires, anonymous letters, caricature-prints, allegorical medals, paragraphs in newspapers, toasts and speeches at convivial or political meetings—all expressive of hate and insult towards the sufferers, and of complacency or exulting joy in their sufferings.

It happened, at this period, that, dining in a public company, Dr. Parr was called upon to drink “Church and King”—the watch-word of a party, and the reigning toast of the times. At first, he resolutely declined. But the obligation of compliance being urgently pressed upon him—rising, at length, with firmness and dignity—with a manner of impressive solemnity, and with a voice of powerful energy, he spoke thus—“I am compelled to drink the toast given from the chair; but I shall do so, with my own comment. Well, then, gentlemen—Church and King.—Once it was the toast of Jacobites; now it is the toast of incendiaries. It means a church without the gospel—and a king above the law!” The wit of this cutting reproof may claim to be admired; but the manly and the noble spirit which dared, at this season of popular fury and frenzy, to espouse the cause of the persecuted, and to rebuke the insolent triumph of the mad persecutors, demands to be gratefully and fervently applauded.

A few months prior to the Birmingham riots, a most extraordinary work appeared; and to the political and religious animosities, excited and fomented by it, those dreadful outrages may, in no small degree, be attributed. This was the cele-brated Mr. Burke’s “Reflections on the French Revolution:” a work, which, however greatly it may be admired as a composition, must be for ever detested for its spirit, and for its tendency and its effects for ever deplored. Almost from the instant of its appearance, the whole nation was suddenly divided into two opposite and fiercely-contending parties. High toryism, under its protection, once more reared, with bold assurance, its portentous front; whilst the better principles of whiggism seemed for a time to shrink from before it. Never, indeed, was there a publication sent forth from the press, more wonderfully calculated by its delusive statements, its specious reasonings, its eloquent and vehement declamation, its loud and confident tone, to flatter the pride of royalty and of greatness, to foster the prejudices of ignorance and of error, to check the spirit of inquiry and of freedom, and to stop the progress of reform and of improvement. Thus Dr. Parr describes the effect it produced on his mind.

“Upon the first perusal of Mr. Burke’s book, I felt, like many other men, its magic force; and, like many other men, I was at last delivered from the illusions which had ‘cheated my reason,’ and borne me on from admiration to assent. But though the dazzling spell be now dissolved, I still remember with pleasure the gay and celestial visions, when ‘my mind in sweet madness was robbed of itself.’ I still look back, with a mixture of piety and holy awe, to the wizard himself, who, having lately broken his wand, in a start of frenzy, has shortened the term of his sorceries; and of drugs so potent, as ‘to bathe the spirits in delight,’ I must still acknowledge that many were culled from the choicest and ‘most virtuous plants of paradise itself.’”1

But powerful as was the production of Mr. Burke, on the one side, it was soon followed, on the other, by a still more powerful production in Paine’s “Rights of Man.” Though an attack directed not merely against the absurdities of Mr. Burke, and the corruptions of the English constitution, but against the principles of the constitution itself; it is impossible to deny the wonderful force of intellect, and strength of language, with which the work is written. Being addressed more to the reason, and less to the passions, than the “Reflections on the French Revolution,” it was calculated to make a deeper and more lasting impression on the public mind; and though it could not fail to offend all the privileged orders, whom it sometimes justly exposes and sometimes unjustly asperses; yet it was eagerly read, and extravagantly admired by the great body of the people, for whose rights and liberties it pleads, always with bold confidence, often with energy scarcely to be resisted, and sometimes with arguments never to be refuted. Of its far-famed author, thus happily has Dr. Parr caught the likeness, and sketched the portrait:

“I recognise, in Mr. Paine, a mind, not disciplined by early education, nor softened and refined by various and extensive intercourse with the

1 Sequel, p. 63.

world, nor enlarged by the knowledge which books supply; but endued by nature with great vigour, and strengthened by long and intense habits of reflection. Acute he appears to me, but not comprehensive; and bold, but not profound. Of man, in his general nature, he seems only to have grasped a part; of man, as distinguished by local and temporary circumstances, his views are indistinct and confined. His notions of government are, therefore, too partial for theory, and too novel for practice; and under a fair semblance of simplicity, conceals a mass of most dangerous errors.”1

But of the numerous answers to which Mr. Burke’s book gave rise, there was one, entitled “Vindiciae Gallicae,” the production of his friend, Mr., now Sir James, Mackintosh, which Dr. Parr, in a high degree, admired. Thus in a fine, animated, commendatory strain, he describes the author and his work:

“In the rapid and eccentric motions of Mr. Burke’s mind, through the vast and trackless space of politics, it often loses the power of attraction upon my own: and as to Mr. Paine, upon my first approaching him, I was instantly repelled to an immeasurable distance; and, for a time, was content to view him, as philosophers look through a telescope, at some dim and sullen planet, whose orbit is at the remotest extremity from the centre. But in the middle and more temperate path, which Mr. Mackintosh has generally pursued, I could often accompany him with pleasure: for, like the earth

1 Sequel, p. 78.

in the solar system, he seems neither to approach too near to the dazzling fountain of light, nor to recede from it too far. My friend, for I have the honour to hail him by that splendid name, will excuse me for expressing in general terms what I think of his work. In Mackintosh, then, I see the sternness of a republican, without his acrimony, and the ardour of a reformer, without his impetuosity. His taste in morals, like that of Mr. Burke, is equally pure and delicate with his taste in literature. His mind is so comprehensive, that generalities cease to be barren, and so vigorous, that detail itself becomes interesting. He introduces every question with perspicuity, states it with precision, and pursues it with easy, unaffected method. Sometimes, perhaps, he may amuse his readers with excursions into paradox; but he never bewilders them by flights into romance. His philosophy is far more just, and far more amiable than the philosophy of Paine; and his eloquence is only not equal to the eloquence of Burke. He is argumentative without sophistry, fervid without fury, profound without obscurity, and sublime without extravagance.”1

The reader is aware that this narrative, in its progress, has reached to the astonishing and eventful period of the French Revolution—so auspicious in its commencement—so disastrous in its course—and terminating so mournfully to the disappointment of all the true friends of human improvement and happiness. For scarcely more mortifying to the

1 Sequel, p. 82.

wishes and the hopes of the wise and the good was the military despotism of Buonaparte, than the forced and almost unconditional restoration of the Bourbons—still retaining too much of the arbitrary spirit, which has ever characterised that despotic race of princes.

In contemplating this stupendous transaction in the history of the modern world, Dr. Parr’s sentiments were those of approbation or disapprobation, according to the different points to which his attention was directed; and if he saw much in the conduct of the early revolutionists to lament and condemn, he found much, also, to admire and applaud. He thought that the old government of France was no longer fit to be endured; that “it was morbid in its aspect, morbid in its extremities, morbid in its vitals;” and that it was therefore absolutely necessary to contrive and to adopt some new form, better calculated to answer the true end of all just governments, in securing the liberties, and promoting the happiness of the people.

To the last moment of his life, Dr. Parr held the opinion that the great though unsuccessful attempt, to throw down despotic rule, and to establish a free constitution in France, cannot fail to be productive of much present, and still more future good, because many wise and useful institutions formed at the revolution, still remain; and because the spirit then aroused, and the information then diffused, still continue, in some degree, and will increase, operating as a salutary check on arbitrary power, and either gradually introducing the principles of civil and religious liberty, or preparing the way for a second revolution, in which the crimes and errors of the first will be avoided, and the whole conducted under better auspices, to a happy and glorious issue. “Great events have happened,” said he in reference to these times, “and events yet greater will, perhaps, ere long, burst from the womb of greater causes; and happy is the man, who, mingling the love of freedom with the love of peace, and order, and social union, surveys, with philosophic calmness and religious awe, the gracious designs of Providence, magnificently unfolding themselves in the intellectual, the civil, and the moral improvement of mankind.”1

But, however in some instances he might disapprove and regret the conduct of the French themselves, nothing could exceed the high and utter abhorrence with which he regarded “the counsels and the conduct of those sanguinary fanatics who would unblushingly and unfeelingly rouse the unsparing sword of foreign potentates, and point it without provocation, without precedent, without any other plea than will, without any other end than tyranny, against the bosom of Frenchmen, contending with Frenchmen alone, upon French ground alone, about French rights, French laws, and French government alone.”2

“If, indeed,” continues he in a style of peculiar energy and solemnity, “the threatened crusade of ruffian despots should be attempted, it will be, in my opinion, an outrageous infringement upon the laws of nations; it will be a savage conspiracy

1 Sequel, p. 84. 2 Ib. p. 73.

against the written and unwritten rights of mankind; and therefore, in the sincerity of my soul, I pray the righteous Governor of the universe, the Creator of men, and the King of kings; I pray Him to abate the pride, to assuage the malice, and to confound the devices of all the parties, directly or indirectly leagued in this complicated scene of guilt and horror; this insult upon the dignity of human nature; this treason against the majesty of God’s own image—rational and immortal man!”1

The war thus solemnly deprecated by Dr. Parr, and by many of the wisest and best men of the country, begun, however, with the too general concurrence of the nation, was continued, with one short interval, for more than twenty-two years, and drew after it a long train of dreadful consequences, from which England, though now in the twelfth year of peace, has not yet recovered. Indeed, so incurable seems the mischief she then sustained, especially in the complete derangement of her finances, that the evil will probably be felt not only by the whole present, but also by many succeeding generations.

The horrible enormities, which attended the progress of the revolution in France, and the brilliant successes, which every where followed the march of her armies, united to produce the most unhappy effects on the public mind in England, by creating unreasonable fears for the national security and independence; and still more, by exciting a suspicious dread of every measure favourable to liberty, and even of liberty itself. The general alarm,

1 Sequel, p. 13.

proceeding from these causes, many of the great leaders of the Whigs themselves either really or pretendedly caught; among whom were the Duke of Portland, Lords Fitzwilliam, Spencer, and Loughborough, in the upper house; and Mr. Burke, Mr. Wyndham, and Sir Gilbert Elliot, in the lower.1 All these persons not only deserted their own, but unblushingly joined the opposing party, eagerly proffered to them their active services, and soon obtained an ample recompense for the support they now gave to measures which they had before vehemently condemned. The Duke of Portland, in particular, was dishonourably distinguished by accepting the office of third secretary of state; an office which he himself had strenuously laboured to abolish, both as superfluous, and as increasing the means, before too abundant, of corrupt influence. Dr. Parr said of him, with taunting severity, “Virtue in the noble Duke certainly has not been left to its own reward.”

But of all the alarmists, as they were popularly named, none excited more seriously the disapprobation of Dr. Parr, and that of every right-minded man in the nation, than Mr. Burke; who, in some well-known debates in parliament, in an unfeeling and insulting manner, not only renounced the party, but also abjured the friendship of Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan; and, from that time, not content with condemning their politics, he went the length

1 “History of the Political Life of Mr. Fox, &c. This book was ascribed to the very celebrated Dr. Lawrence, and was written while he adhered to Whig principles, and to his faithful friend and warm admirer, Mr. Fox. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 401.

of aspersing their characters, sometimes by artful insinuations, and sometimes, too, by open and calumnious charges.

In a letter to a friend, Dr. Parr thus gives vent to the sorrow and the anger, which then agitated and distressed his mind: “I am most fixedly and most indignantly on the side of Mr. Sheridan and Mr. Fox against Mr. Burke. It is not merely French politics which produced the dispute. No! no! There is jealousy lurking underneath—jealousy of Mr. Sheridan’s eloquence—jealousy of his popularity—jealousy of his influence with Mr. Fox—jealousy, perhaps, of his connexion with the Prince. Mr. Sheridan was not, I think, too warm; at least, I should myself have been warmer. Why! Burke accused Mr. Fox and Mr. Sheridan of acts leading to rebellion; and he made Mr. Fox a dupe, and Mr. Sheridan a traitor!”1

In the same letter, Dr. Parr expresses the unfavourable opinion of Mr. Burke, which was then first fixing itself, and which afterwards gathered strength in his mind: “I know his violence of temper, and obstinacy of opinion, and—; but I will not speak out; for though I think him the greatest man upon earth—yet in politics I think him, what he has been found to be, to the sorrow of those who, have acted with him. He is incorrupt I know; but his passions are quite headstrong; and age, disappointment, and the sight of other men rising into power and consequence sour him.”

Of Mr. Wyndham, another of the Whig alarmists, the following sketch of character, drawn by Dr. Parr, is in his happiest manner:

1 Moore’s Life of Sheridan, vol. ii. p. 127.

“With Mr. Wyndham, though I lament his violence and abhor his apostasy, I am very unwilling to come to an open rupture. I remember with delight those happier days, when he sustained a better part, with better men; when the charms of his conversation were not counteracted by the errors of his politics; when he was animated, but not ferocious; and when his refinements, instead of being dangerous in practice, were, in theory, only amusing. But I know well, as I long have known, the peculiarities which have lately burst on the public eye: nor can I assign any limits to the fury of his passions, or the stubbornness of his prepossessions. He is proud by nature; he is visionary by habit; by accident he was made treacherous; and, by station, he will be made imperious, intolerant, and inexorable.”

CHAPTER XXI. A.D. 1791—1795. Publication of “A Sequel to the Printed Paper lately circulated in Warwickshire,” &c.—Extracts from it—Dr. Parr’s account of his own principles and conduct—Mr. Cumberland’s “Retort Courteous to Dr. Parr”—Publication of “A Letter from Irenopolis to the Inhabitants of Eleutheropolis”—Extracts from it—Publication of “Remarks on the Statement of Dr. Combe,” &c.—Dr. Parr’s critical labours as a reviewer—Utility of periodical criticism.

Circumstances, connected with the unhappy times of the Birmingham riots, give occasion to the two next publications of Dr. Parr; of which the first arose out of a dispute with a neighbouring clergyman, the Rev. Charles Curtis, vicar of Solihull, rector of St. Martin’s, Birmingham, and a brother of the well-known Sir William Curtis, alderman of London.

Born of parents, who were dissenters, it might have been expected that, even after entering within the pale of the church, Mr. Curtis would have retained some kindly feeling towards those of the sect, to which his family belonged. But it was proved that the Rector of Birmingham participated largely in the bitter spirit, of which Dr. Priestley and his non-conforming friends were the objects and the victims. Instances are left on record of the ardent and active zeal with which he pressed forward, among the champions of the church and the king, on that most tremendous occasion.

It is not to be doubted that some portion of the same vengeful feeling was directed towards Dr. Parr, as the commiserating friend of the persecuted, and the firm and determined enemy of persecution. It is certain, at least that some offensive expressions uttered by Mr. Curtis, once in the presence, and once in the absence of Dr. Parr, were followed by two anonymous and abusive letters, which Dr. Parr suspected that Mr. Curtis had written. These suspicions, apparently resting on strong grounds, were met on the part of Mr. Curtis by a positive and solemn denial, at an amicable conference proposed by some common friend. Here the dispute might have been suffered, with consummate propriety, to end. But Mr. Curtis thought not so; and a printed statement of the whole case written and circulated by him, drew after it the publication, of which some account is now to be given. It is entitled, “A Sequel to a printed Paper circulated in Warwickshire by the Rev. Charles Curtis,” &c.

Respecting the principal subject of this publication, it is only necessary to say, that, though a strong case of suspicion was certainly made out against the rector of Birmingham, yet it was soon afterwards satisfactorily proved, that, however supported by appearances, the suspicion was unfounded in reality; and Dr. Parr, when afterwards convinced of his error, was not long in offering honourable reparation. It is this occurrence to which, with amiable candour, he refers in the following passages:—

“To find by experience that friendships are mortal, is the hard but inevitable lot of fallible and imperfect man. It has, however, always been, and always will be, one of the first wishes of my heart, and one of my first prayers to Heaven, that no enmity of mine may ever be immortal. That my practice is correspondent to my profession, the candid reader will allow, when he is told, that from my unwillingness to perpetuate quarrels beyond the exigences of self-defence, I took occasion, in the summer of 1793, to make proposals for a reconciliation with a gentleman, with whom I have been engaged in an unpleasant and well-known controversy, and the affair was brought to an amicable termination.”1

But gladly turning away from the unhappy occurrences here referred to, and from another—most deeply disgraceful!—on which Dr. Parr animadverts with great severity; the writer hastens to observe, that, intermingled with the subject of private dispute, are many just and striking remarks on the great leading subjects of public discussion, during the earlier periods of the French Revolution; and many, also, it may be added, of which the high interest is, since that time, rather increased than diminished. For surely this is true of all that is here powerfully urged, on the necessity of admitting reforms into our civil and ecclesiastical systems, as the only means of preventing violent and hazard-

1 Reply to Combe, p. 75.

ous changes; and on the wise policy of introducing such improvements, as the views and wants of a more enlightened age demands. Some of Dr. Parr’s observations on these last important subjects, will be submitted to the attention of the reader hereafter. One or two extracts only are here subjoined.

In terms of conscious integrity and dignity, worthy of himself, Dr. Parr thus speaks of his own principles and conduct:—

“In the purity of my conversation—in the regularity of my morals—in the diligent and conscientious discharge of my professional duty—and in a steady attachment to the established religion of my country, I will not .yield the palm of superiority to any clergyman now living, however exalted may be his rank—however distinguished may be his talents—and however applauded may be his orthodoxy. Whether or no the course of my reading, and the habits of my thinking, may not have led me to more correct notions, and to a more ardent love of civil and religious freedom, than some men are supposed to entertain, is a question which I will not discuss to the extent to which I might carry such a discussion, without insincerity and without impropriety. But my principles, I am sure, will never endanger the church—my studies, I hope, are such as do not disgrace it—and my actions, I can say with confidence, have ever tended to preserve it from open, and what I conceive to be unjust attacks.”1

1 Sequel, p. 51.

The moderation of spirit and the cautiousness of temper, which marked his character as a religious and a political reformer, are thus described:—

“There are in this kingdom men of no mean consideration, for ability and rank,—men whom I thoroughly know and sincerely regard, and by whom I am myself neither unknown, nor I would hope, unregarded. These men, I believe, are not accustomed to charge me with an overweening fondness for sects, or any blind confidence in the leaders of sects. They are aware that with great constitutional warmth of temper, I unite those habits of discrimination, which gradually teach men to be impartial in opinion—to be temperate in action—and to accommodate the results of speculation to the real state of man. Sometimes, they may give me the praise of a little sagacity for discerning a greater or a less portion of bigotry in every quarter, where I see excess of zeal upon points of doubtful evidence; and, perhaps, of utility yet more doubtful. But they have much oftener seen me assailed with good-humoured raillery, for some wayward propensities towards the sternness of Toryism, when I resisted the vicious refinements of theory, and condemned all immoderate ardour for sudden and sweeping innovations, of which I can neither perceive the immediate necessity, nor calculate the distant consequences.”1

The “Sequel” called forth, not wholly without some fair pretext, a humorous production from the pen of Mr. Cumberland, entitled “Curtius

1 Sequel, p. 53.

rescued from the Gulf; or the Retort Courteous to the Rev. Dr. Parr, in answer to his learned pamphlet,” &c. By the help of the index to the Delphin and other editions of the Classics, the author contrived to draw together a number of passages, in which the Latin word par occurs: and with these he plays the punster ingeniously enough; pointing his witticisms chiefly against the love of ancient lore, in which he thought “the most learned doctor” had indulged himself satis superque.

For the second title to this little piece of merry wit, something might be urged; but the first is entirely a misnomer; since Curtius was not in the least rescued from the gulf; nor was one word said, tending, in the smallest degree, to relieve him from the imputations which, whether justly or unjustly, had been thrown upon him. It has been said, that the name of Cumberland was ever after a disagreeable sound in the ears of Dr. Parr; an assertion, which appears to the present writer, destitute of all probability. He, who could so little regard, and so easily forget, and so cordially forgive the biting satire of the “Pursuits of Literature,” could never be much annoyed by the harmless raillery of the “Retort Courteous.”

From what he has said of himself in the following passage, who, that intimately knew him, will withhold assent? “By that countless swarm of scribblers, who amuse themselves, and readers equally idle with themselves, by paragraphs upon my opinions in politics, my peculiarities in dress, or my love of ancient literature, I have too much firmness, and too much understanding, to be offended for one moment. My character, I am told, presents a wide front for attack, to those puny assailants; and, so long as they abstained from the poisoned weapons of malevolence, I often smiled, as no doubt I often shall smile, at the light and feeble shafts of ridicule.”1 If Cumberland’s shafts were not of the very best temper, nor aimed with the very best skill, they were certainly untouched with the poison of malignity.

A second publication of Dr. Parr’s, which connects itself with the history of the Birmingham riots, entitled “A Letter from Irenopolis to the Inhabitants of Eleutheropolis,” was sent from the press, in consequence of a report that a second commemoration of the rench Revolution was intended at Birmingham. The report proved erroneous; yet who will regret that it had the effect of calling forth, though but into momentary exertion, the powers of so acute and vigorous a mind? The “Letter” is, indeed, most excellent; full of just reasoning, noble sentiment, and fine writing: and one knows not whether to admire most the fair, the candid, the conciliating spirit of the writer, or the beauty, the richness, the energy, and the dignity of the composition. It has been pronounced by many competent judges, the best of Dr. Parr’s publications; and it was begun and finished in the course of a single day.

In the very opening of the Letter, how soothing to the outraged feelings! how respectful to the

1 Sequel, Pref. p. 7.

injured and insulted characters of those whom he addresses, are the following expressions!

“Permit me to address you in a spirit of candour and respect, under the sacred and endearing name of fellow-citizens and fellow-Christians. With intentions not less pure, and probably with researches not less diligent than your own, I cannot profess to think with you upon many speculative subjects, both of politics and religion. But freedom of inquiry is equally open to you and to myself: it is equally laudable in us, when conducted with impartiality and decorum; and it must equally tend to the enlargement of knowledge and the improvement of virtue, while our sincerity does not betray us into precipitation, and while our zeal does not stifle within us the amiable and salutary sentiments of mutual forbearance. The principles, upon which we are agreed, are surely of more exalted rank, and of more extensive importance, than those about which we differ; and while that importance is felt as well as acknowledged, we shall welcome every argument, and resist every invective, from whatever quarter they may proceed.”1

What generous anxiety appears in the following passage, to render the full measure of due praise to those, who had deserved so well from the community—but who had been so dreadfully injured in property—and then, in order to extenuate the wrong, so cruelly defamed in character!

“These plain but interesting considerations,

1 Page 1.

gentlemen, are presented to your view, by a man, who has risked, and would again risk the imputation of singularity, of indecorum, and even of apostasy, by doing to you what is just, and speaking of you what is true. Though he does not profess himself an advocate for many of your tenets, he can with sincerity declare himself not an enemy to your persons. He knows only few among you; but he thinks well of many. He respects you, for temperance and decency in private life; for diligence in your employments, and punctuality to your engagements; for economy without parsimony, and liberality without profusion; for the readiness you show to relieve distress, and to encourage merit with little or no distinction of party; for the knowledge which many of you have acquired, by the dedication of your leisure hours to intellectual improvement, and for the regularity with which most of you are said to attend religious worship. As to the late deplorable events, he believes you have been misrepresented, and he knows you have been wronged.”1

How honourable to the character of the illustrious but ill-requited Priestley, at once “the glory of his country, and its shame,” are the following expressions! and how gratifying must they have been to the feelings of his devoted and admiring congregation!

“The Scriptures, you will consider, still lie open to you. The house in which you did homage to your Creator, will soon be rebuilt. Though you

1 p. 9.

cannot again obtain the honour and the advantage you derived from such an instructor as Dr. Priestley, your sect is hardly so barren of excellence as not to supply you with a successor, whose talents indeed may be less flattering to your honest pride, but whose labours will not be less meritorious, in discharging the duties of his clerical station, nor less instrumental in making you all wise unto salvation. I should not think well of your sensibility, if you were indifferent to the loss of so excellent a preacher as Dr. Priestley. But I should think very ill of your moderation, if you made that loss a pretext for perpetuating disputes, which, if my arguments or my prayers could prevail, would speedily have an end.”1

Who will dispute the truth of the following representation of himself, and of the great principles which actuated his own mind, and guided his own conduct?

“The writer is a lover of peace; and of liberty, too, he is a most ardent lover, because liberty is the best means by which real peace can be obtained and secured. He therefore looks down with scorn upon every species of bigotry, and from every species of persecution he shrinks with horror. He believes that wheresoever imperious and turbulent teachers have usurped an excessive ascendancy over the minds of an ignorant and headstrong multitude, religion will always be disgraced, morals always vitiated, and society always endangered. But the real honour, the real interests,

1 Page 17, 18.

the real and most important cause of the established church he has ever supported, and will support, as he also ever has contended, and will contend, in favour of a liberal, efficient and progressive toleration.”1

How touching and solemn the pathos in the concluding passages of this admirable letter!

“In regard to yourselves, gentlemen, the writer means to warn, rather than to censure. The effect of that warning he consigns to your own wisdom, and the unsearchable will of that Providence, in submission to which he has ever found the most solid comfort. But in giving you that warning, he has an entire confidence in the purity of his motives. In enforcing it, he boldly appeals to the justness of his argument; and, upon concluding it, he is at this moment conscious of having discharged a most important duty to you and to your neighbours, to the church and to the state, to his country and to his God.”2

Early in 1794, Dr. Parr was engaged in another controversy of a different nature, from that into which he had lately been drawn; more connected, indeed, with his pursuits as a scholar, but not less painful to his feelings as a man.

A variorum edition of Horace had been projected by the late Mr. Homer, in conjunction with Dr. Charles Combe, a physician of some eminence in London, a scholar of considerable attainments, who was particularly distinguished as a learned

1 Page 39. 2 Page 40.

medallist. The plan was to adopt the text of Gesner; to give the best selection from the different commentators; to add the index of Tretter with some improvements; and to print the various readings of the first editions, and also of seven Mss. in the library of the British Museum. On the proposed plan, and during its progressive execution, the advice and occasionally the aid of Dr. Parr were sought and obtained. But when the work had advanced no further than the middle of the fourth book of Odes, Mr. Homer, who was generally considered as its real and efficient editor, died. After his death, in consequence of some difference of opinion, Dr. Parr withdrew his countenance from Dr. Combe; by whom, however, the work was completed, and finally presented to the public.

The first appearance of this new edition of Horace was accompanied with a prevailing report, that Dr. Parr was one of the editors of a book, in which he assisted only for a certain time, and to a certain extent, and of which, as a whole, he did not approve. In order to check that report, which he thought injurious to his reputation, as a scholar, he sent an advertisement, explaining the real state of the case, to the “British Critic;” and at the same time announced an intention to write a criticism on the work; which was accordingly published in the same Review, and was continued through four successive numbers. His remarks display all his usual acumen, taste, and judgment; and their general effect was, certainly, unfavourable to the credit of the new edition of Horace.

At this criticism the learned editor was vehemently incensed, which was natural; and his anger got the better of his judgment, which was unfortunate. Instead of defending his work, he assailed the critic; and, not content with calling in question the justness of his critical decisions, he shamefully aspersed his moral character.1 Under charges, bearing hard on his veracity, his integrity, and his generosity, especially in his literary and pecuniary transactions with his late friend, Mr. Homer, it could not be expected that Dr. Parr should remain silent. His answer, though somewhat tediously minute, is spirited and powerful; as a composition possessing much merit, and as a vindication of himself, complete and triumphant. It is entitled “Remarks on the Statement of Dr. Charles Combe, by an occasional Writer in the British Critic.”

From this pamphlet large extracts are inserted, in various parts of this work; and one or two are here subjoined, of which the first contains Dr. Parr’s own account of his critical labours in periodical reviews:

“The reader will I trust excuse me, if, for reasons of delicacy, I now take an opportunity to state the whole extent of the share I have ever had in Reviews. To the British Critic, I have sent one article, besides that, which was written for the

1 Even the very title of Dr. Combe’s pamphlet is fierce and astounding:—“A Statement of Facts relative to the behaviour of Dr. Parr to the late Mr. Homer and Dr. Combe, in order to point out the source, falsehood, and malignity of Dr. Parr’s attack, in the British Critic, on the character of Dr. Combe.”

Horace. For the Critical Review, I have furnished a few materials for two articles only.1 For the Monthly, I have assisted in writing two or three; and the number of those which are entirely my own does not exceed six or seven.2 In almost all the critiques, my intention was to commend rather than to blame; and the only one, in which I ever blamed with severity, related to a classical work, the editor of which deserved reproof for the following reasons. He clothed bad criticism in bad Latin. He had not availed himself of that information, which preceding editions would have supplied to any intelligent critic. From the stores of other critics he produced little, and from his own stores less, that was valuable. But he had indulged in rude and petulant objections against Dr. Bentley, and for this chiefly I censured him. Here ends the catalogue of my crimes, hitherto committed in Reviews; and as I have now somewhat more leisure than I formerly enjoyed, it is possible that I may now and then add to their number.”

His opinion on the utility and importance of periodical criticism is thus given:

“Of the share which I have already taken, and

1 One of these is a review of “Fellowes’ Body of Theology,” June, 1808.

2 “Bishop Bagot’s Charge. From my great regard to Dr. Bagot, I with difficulty got leave from Dr. Griffiths to insert rather a favourable account of this Charge in the Monthly Review. Dr. Griffiths afterwards told me that some of his colleagues were displeased with him for granting me this permission. S. P.”—“Manilii Astronomicon curâ Burtoni. I reviewed this shallow and censorious book. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 601. 693.

may hereafter take in these periodical publications, I never can be ashamed. I might plead the example of many scholars both at home and abroad, far superior to myself in vigour of intellect and extent of erudition. But I rather wish to insist upon the utility of the works themselves, and upon the opportunity they furnish to men of learning for rendering some occasional service to the general cause of literature. There is no one Review in this country but what is conducted with a considerable degree of ability; and though I decline the task of deciding on their comparative excellence, I have no hesitation in saying that they all of them deserve encouragement from learned men. They much oftener assist, than retard the circulation of books; they much oftener extend, than check the reputation of good books; they rarely prostitute commendation upon such as are notoriously bad. For my part, I am disposed to view with a favourable eye the different opinions and propensities, which may be traced in the minds of the different writers. By such collision of sentiments, truth is brought into fuller view; and the reader finds himself impelled by the very strongest curiosity to examine the reasons, upon which men of talents nearly equal have founded decisions so totally opposite. By posterity, too, Reviews will be considered as useful repositories of the most splendid passages in the most celebrated works. They will show the progress of a country, or an age, in taste and arts, in refinement of manners, and the cultivation of science. They mark the gradations of language itself, and the progressive or retrograde motions of the public mind, upon the most interesting subjects in ethics, in politics, and religion.”

From the review of the variorum Horace in the British Critic, the following extracts are here given.—The first is a pleasing delineation of the character of Horace as a writer, and of the excellencies and the charms which so powerfully attract and delight every reader.

“The writings of Horace are familiar to us from our earliest boyhood. They carry with them attractions which are felt in every period of life, and almost every rank of society. They charm alike by the harmony of numbers, and the purity of the diction. They exhilarate the gay, and interest the serious, according to the different kinds of subjects upon which the poet is employed. Professing neither the precision of analysis, nor the copiousness of system, they have advantages, which, among the ordinary classes of writers, analysis and system rarely attain. They exhibit human imperfections as they really are, and human excellence as it practically ought to be. They develope every principle of the virtuous in morals, and describe every modification of the decorous in manners. They please without the glare of ornament, and they instruct without the formality of precept. They are the produce of a mind enlightened by study, invigorated by observation; comprehensive, but not visionary; delicate, but not fastidious; too sagacious to be warped by prejudice, and too gene-rous to be cramped by suspicion: they are distinguished by language adapted to the sentiment, and by effort proportioned to the occasion: they contain elegance without affectation, grandeur without bombast, satire without buffoonery, and philosophy without jargon.”

The value of verbal criticism is thus fairly and forcibly stated.

“The attention of the present age has been very generally directed to experimental philosophy, to historical investigation, and to the discussion of the profoundest subjects in politics, in morals, and metaphysics. Quod magis ad nos Pertinet, et nescire malum est, agitamus. As members of civilised society, and as friends to the whole commonwealth of literature and science, we acknowledge the utility of such researches; we are sensible of the difficulties attending them; and we admire all the judicious and intense exertions of the human understanding, by which those difficulties are gradually surmounted. But, however extensive may be the importance of the studies which are now most prevalent, and however brilliant the success with which they may have been prosecuted, we feel no diminution of our reverence for the labours of those scholars who have employed their abilities in explaining the sense, and in correcting the text of ancient writers. Verbal criticism has been rarely despised sincerely by any man who was capable of cultivating it successfully; and if the comparative dignity of any kind of learning is to be measured by the talents of those, who are most distinguished for the acquisition of it, philology will hold no inconsiderable rank in the various and splendid classes of human knowledge. By a trite and frivolous sort of pleasantry, verbal critics are often holden up to ridicule, as noisy triflers, as abject drudges, as arbiters of commas, as measurers of syllables, as the very lacqueys and slaves of learning, whose greatest ambition is “to pursue the triumph and partake the gale” which wafts writers of genius into the wishedfor haven of fame. But even in this subordinate capacity, so much derided, so little understood, they frequently have occasion for more extent and variety of information, for more efforts of reflection and research, for more solidity of judgment, more strength of memory, and, we are not ashamed to add, more vigour of imagination, than we see displayed by many sciolists, who, in their own estimation, are original authors. Some of the very satellites of Jupiter are superior in magnitude, and, perhaps, in lustre, to such primary planets as Mars and the Earth.”

CHAPTER XXII. A. D. 1794—1795. Case of Joseph Gerrald, the pupil and friend of Dr. Parr—His trial for sedition at Edinburgh—Sentence of fourteen years’ transportation passed upon him—His removal to London—His long confinement in prison—His expressions of high regard for Dr. Parr in a letter from on board the Hulks—Dr. Parr’s letter to him—His voyage to Botany Bay—His arrival—His death.

In the course of the year 1794, the mind of Dr. Parr was painfully agitated, by the cruel fate of one of his earlier pupils, the richly-gifted, the greatly imprudent, but dreadfully injured, Joseph Gerrald; to whom he was attached with a fondness truly paternal; and by whom he was beloved, with all the sincerity and warmth of filial affection.

He was a native of the West Indies, where he possessed an estate of 3000l. a year; but a large portion of it was consumed in the course of a long litigation, in the expensive courts of that country. He was sent to England for his education; and had the good fortune to be placed under the care of the master of Stanmore School. He was a young man of high talents, and high attainments; of the nicest feelings of rectitude, and the keenest sense of honour; of firmness never to be shaken, of courage never to be daunted, in what he conceived to be a great or a good cause. Unhappily, he suffered himself to be hurried into irregularities, which it is neither necessary to palliate, nor possible to excuse.

In a course of dissipation, he soon wasted his fortune, and deeply injured his health; and yet, in the midst of all, he never renounced his virtuous principles, and never wholly neglected his intellectual improvement. He pursued, indeed, his pleasures and his studies, with nearly equal ardour; and though too eagerly bent on the gratification of low desires; yet he ever showed that noble passions still throbbed within him; and he never destroyed in those around him the hopes of seeing him rise, at length, to all that excellence, of which he was capable.

Leaving England early in life, he went to America; and practised, for some time, as an advocate in the courts of Pennsylvania. Fired with the love of liberty, first kindled by his study of Grecian and Roman history and literature, and afterwards reanimated by his residence in the land of republican freedom, he returned to England; and enrolled himself among the bold and ardent patriots, who, about the time of the French Revolution, stood forward in the great cause of political renovation, with more zeal, it must be owned, than discretion; with the greatest purity of intention, no doubt, but with too much theoretical extravagance, and too little practical wisdom. Several of these, of whom Mr. Gerrald was one, having met in what they called the “Convention of Delegates,” at Edinburgh, were suddenly apprehended on a charge of sedition; and were successively brought to trial, before the High Court of Justiciary.

Being himself in London, at large on bail, when he first heard of the trial and conviction of his associates, he was seriously advised and earnestly entreated, by his revered tutor and by other friends, to save himself from a relentless persecution, by flight; and they generously offered to indemnify his bail against all pecuniary forfeiture. But every such proposal, though repeatedly urged upon him, he resolutely and even indignantly rejected, conceiving it to be a dereliction of duty, and a violation of honour. Though he knew himself prejudged and foredoomed, he hastened to his trial, with all the high and heroic spirit of the Athenian sage, placed in similar circumstances, and pressed by similar entreaties; who, rather than seem to elude the sentence of the law, or to shrink from the support of a good cause, nobly refused to escape, and greatly resolved to die.

“He heard my proposal attentively,” says Dr. Parr, in a written memorandum of this extraordinary occurrence, “but with no emotion of joy. At first he paused; then, after calmly discussing with me the propriety of the proposal, he peremptorily refused to accede to it; and finally, after hearing my earnest entreaties, and affectionate remonstrances, closed our conversation in words to the following effect:—‘In any ordinary case,’ said he, ‘I should, without the smallest hesitation, and with the warmest gratitude, avail myself of your offer. I readily admit that my associates will not suffer more, because I suffer less. I am inclined to believe with you, that the sense of their own sufferings will be alleviated by their know-ledge of my escape. But my honour is pledged; and no opportunity for flight, however favourable, no expectation of danger, however alarming, no excuse for consulting my own safety, however plausible, shall induce me to violate that pledge. I gave it to men, whom I esteem, and respect, and pity; to men, who, by avowing similar principles, have been brought into similar peril; to men, who were confirmed in those principles, and led into that peril, by the influence of my own arguments, my own persuasions, and my own example. Under these circumstances, they became partakers of my responsibility to the law; and therefore, under no circumstances, will I shrink from the participation with them in the rigours of any punishment, which that law, as likely to be administered in Scotland, may ordain for us.’ He uttered the foregoing words emphatically, but not turbulently; and finding him fixedly determined upon returning that night to Scotland, I did not harass his mind by any farther remonstrance. He was very calm, before we parted; and I left him, under the very strongest impressions of compassion for his sufferings, admiration of his courage, and moral approbation of his delicacy and his fidelity.”

The trial came on March 3, 1794. The defence of the accused, by himself, though an astonishing display of powerful reasoning and glowing eloquence, proved unavailing. A most unrighteous and barbarous sentence of transportation for the term of fourteen years was pronounced upon him; though it was strongly urged that such a sentence, to one in his state of declining health, would be equivalent to a sentence of death. In April following, Mr. Gerrald was removed to London, and committed to Newgate; whence, in October, he was transferred to Giltspur-street prison. During the long period of his confinement, his sufferings were soothed, and his mind was cheered, by his frequent and numerous visitors, of whom some were of high rank. Various offers of money made to him by private persons, it is said, he pertinaciously declined. It is even related that the counsel for the prosecution, at the close of his trial, went to him; apologised for the part which a painful duty had imposed; and, at the same time, placing in his hands a purse of money, pressed it upon his acceptance; which, however, though destitute, Gerrald, gratefully, indeed, yet somewhat proudly, refused. But, what may seem still more incredible, it is further related, that, when a pardon was offered by the secretary of state, on conditions which appeared to him incompatible with the dictates of his conscience, he rejected it with firmness, and not wholly without some strong feelings of indignation.1

After remaining more than twelve months, immured in the prisons of London, on May 2, 1795, about three in the afternoon, just as he was lying down to take some repose, which his ill-health rendered necessary, he was suddenly called out of his apartment; and without being permitted to return, or to take leave of his infant daughter, the com-

1 Maurice’s Memoirs, part 2. p. 166. Beloe’s Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 262.

panion of his imprisonment, he was instantly put into a post-chaise, conveyed to Gosport, sent on board the “Sovereign” transport, which was then already freighted with its living cargo, and soon afterwards set sail for Botany Bay.

In this manner, as Dr. Parr often related the story, the ill-fated Gerrald was needlessly and barbarously hurried away, from the shores of England; and not only was personal intercourse with his friends prohibited, but even communication by letter was interdicted. “Struck with amaze and horror at this flagitious conduct, useless in every way to justice, I sat up all night,” said Dr. Parr to a friend, “and wrote a letter of six sides to Wyndham. I never wrote any thing before or since so severe. I sent off the letter, to which I never got a reply; but an order was given to allow the communication. Wyndham must have felt that remonstrance, if ever he felt any thing in his life.”1

In a letter, dated “Portsmouth, May 16, 1795, on board the Hulks”—addressed to one of his warmly sympathising and kindly attentive friends, the much-injured Gerrald thus expresses the virtuous and grateful sentiments, which glowed in his breast, so honourable at once to himself and his preceptor.

“My dear Mr. Philips—I know not how to express the rising sentiments of my heart, for your unbounded kindness to me. The best return, the only return I can make, is, to convince you, by the virtue and energy of my conduct, that I am not

1 New Monthly Mag. May, 1826.

altogether unworthy of your friendship. A parade of professions neither suits you, nor me, nor the occasion. You know my feelings, and will, therefore, do justice to them: and with this simple observation, I close the subject. I have repeatedly attempted to write to my ever honoured and loved friend and father, Dr. Parr; but it is impossible. The tender and filial affection which I bear to him, the recollection of the many endearing scenes which we have passed together, the sacred relation which subsists between Joseph Gerrald and that Samuel Parr, who poured into my untutored mind the elements of all, either of learning or morals, which is valuable about me; whose great instructions planted in my bosom the seeds of magnanimity, which I trust I now display, and at which persecution herself must stand abashed; all these, my friend, rush at once upon my mind, and form a conflict of feeling, an awful confusion, which I cannot describe; but which he, who is the cause, I know can feel, and feel in the most full and virtuous extent. To the greater part of my friends, I have written—to Dr. Parr I have not written; but to his heart my silence speaks. The painter who could not express the excessive grief, covered with a veil the face of Agamemnon. Tell him, then, my dear Mr. Philips, that if ever I have spoken peevishly of his supposed neglect of me, he must, nay, I know he will, attribute it to its real cause—a love, vehement and jealous, and which, in a temper like Gerrald’s, lights its torches at the fire of the furies. And when my tongue uttered any harshness of expression, even at that very period my heart would have bled for him; and the compunction of the next moment inflicted a punishment far more than adequate to the guilt of the preceding one. Tell him to estimate my situation not by the tenderness of his own feelings, but by the firmness of mine. Tell him that if my destiny is apparently rigorous, the unconquerable firmness of my mind breaks the blow, which it cannot avert; and that, enlisted as I am in the cause of truth and virtue, I bear about me a patient integrity, which no blandishments can corrupt, and a heart which no dangers can daunt. Tell him, in a word, that as I have hitherto lived, let the hour of dissolution come when it may, I shall die the pupil of Samuel Parr.” &c. &c.

On his part, the kind and considerate preceptor was not unmindful of his injured and suffering pupil. As Gerrald was removed, without the allowance of one moment of time for preparation, and almost without the common necessaries of life, Dr. Parr immediately raised for him a small sum, by subscription among his friends, and accompanied that seasonable supply with a letter, most worthy, indeed, of himself; which, for the soft and gentle tone of its reproof—for the wise and holy strain of its admonition—and, for the soft and soothing tenderness of its consolation, it is impossible to read, without admiring and revering the kind friend and comforter, or without deeply commiserating, and yet in some degree congratulating, the sufferer:—Cujus fato illacrymans soleo, hanc epistolam legens. The pecuniary contribution found its way, at length, to the unfortunate person for whom it was intended; but alas! there is reason to fear that the letter, by some deplorable fatality, never reached him; and that he lived the short remainder of his days, and passed the lingering hours of dissolution, without the support and the relief, which that letter could not have failed to afford him. But though lost to him, it will not be lost to others. In these pages it shall be faithfully recorded, for the gratification of all, to whom it is delightful to contemplate the spectacle of wisdom and kindness weeping over the misfortunes, lightening the sorrow, and animating the courage, of youthful patriotism, when drooping and dying under the arm of cruel and relentless oppression.

“Dear Joseph,—I hear with indignation and horror that the severe sentence, passed upon you in Scotland, will shortly be carried into execution; and remembering that I was once your master, that I have long been your friend, and that I am your fellow-creature, made so by the hand of God; and that by every law of that religion, in which I hope to live and die, I ought to be your comforter; now, dear Joseph, I am for the last time writing to you. Oh! my dear friend, at this moment my heart sinks within me; and, with a wish to say a thousand things, I am hardly able to say one. But you shall not leave this land without one sincere—one affectionate—one solemn farewell. Joseph, before we meet again, that bosom which now throbs for you, and the tongue which now dictates, will be laid in the cold grave. Be it so. Yet, my dear friend, I must cherish the hope, that death is not the end of such a being as man. No! Joseph, no! there is a moral government going on, and in the course of it our afflictions will cease, and compensation will be made us, I trust, for all our unmerited sufferings. There is another world, and a better; and in that world I pray to God, that I may meet your face again. Bear up, I beseech you, against the hard and cruel oppression, which the evil spirit of these times, and your own want of discretion, have brought upon you. Mackintosh has informed me of that which is about to happen, and I have done all that I can in your favour. Let me conjure you to conduct yourself, not only with firmness, but also with calmness. Do not, by turbulence in conversation or action, give your enemies occasion to make the cup of misery more bitter. Reflect seriously upon your past life, and review many of those opinions which you have unfortunately taken up; and which you know, from experience, have little tended to make you a happier or a better man. I do not mean, Joseph, to reproach you. No!—such an intention, at such a crisis, ought to be far from my heart. But I do mean to advise you, and to excite you to such a use of your talents as may console you under the sorrows of this life, and prepare you effectually for all that is to follow. I will send you a few books, in addition to other matters. They will cheer you, in the dreary hours, you will have to pass upon that forlorn spot, to which the inhuman governors of this country are about to send you. Some time ago, I saw your dear boy, and depend upon it, that for his sake and yours, I will show him all the kindness in my power. I shall often think of you. Yes, Joseph! and there are moments, too, when I shall pray for you. Farewell, dear Joseph Gerrald, and believe me your most unfeigned and afflicted friend,

Samuel Parr. Hatton, May, 1795.

“Pray write to me—God Almighty bless you, Joseph—farewell.”

The promise which he here gave, and which he had before given, to take charge of one of his two children, a son, thus cruelly bereaved of their only surviving parent, Dr. Parr most faithfully and anxiously performed. Amongst other important services, he had the good fortune to obtain for him the favourable notice of Dr. Howley, the present highly venerated and truly excellent Bishop of London; and, in his last will, Dr. Parr warmly expresses his sense of obligation to that prelate, “for his humane and generous behaviour to Joseph Gerrald, whom an unfortunate, rash, but most ingenious and most eloquent father, in the anguish of his spirit, committed to his friendly protection.”

Setting sail, towards the end of May, 1795, Mr. Gerrald left the shores of that country, to which he returned no more. During his voyage, he suffered much from bodily disorder, and still more, if possible, from the degrading and painful circumstances of his situation. It is related, by his former school-fellow, Mr. Maurice, that a mutiny of the convicts, on board the same vessel, was suppressed, and a massacre of the officers prevented, by his influence and his exertions. Mr. Maurice also mentions, with much approbation, that of the books which he selected as a source of consolation, amid the weariness of solitude, and the languor of disease, one, which he most highly prized, was “Cudworth’s Intellectual System.”1

Early in November, Mr. Gerrald reached the place of his final destination. He arrived in a very feeble and declining state of health; and, gradually growing worse, at the end of about five months, he found a refuge from all his sufferings in the grave. A few hours before he expired, calling some friends to his bed-side, he said, “I die in the best of causes; and, as you witness, without repining.” He was buried in a garden forming part of a little plot of ground, which he had purchased at Farm Cove in Port Jackson. The inscription on his tomb records that “he died a martyr to the liberties of his country, March 16, 1796, in the thirty-fifth year of his age.”2

1 Maurice’s Memoirs, part 2. p. 166.

2 “On the 5th of Nov. 1795, arrived Mr. Joseph Gerrald, a prisoner, in a very weak and impaired state of health. In this gentleman we saw, that not even elegant manners, great abilities, the gifts of nature matured by education (because he misapplied them), could save him from landing an exile on a barbarous shore; where the few who were civilised must pity while they admired him.”—“At three in the morning, 10th March, 1796, Mr. Gerrald breathed his last; glorying in being a martyr to the cause which he termed that of freedom, and considering as an honour that exile, which brought him to an untimely grave.”—Collins’ Hist, of New South Wales, p. 433. 469.

CHAPTER XXIII. A.D. 1794. Death of Sir Wm. Jones—His character—His literary attainments—His friendship with Dr. Parr—Lord Teignmouth’s Memoirs of his Life—Disingenuousness of that biographer in the opinion of Dr. Paley, and of Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Gibbon—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of him and of his works—His epitaph written by Dr. Parr—His observations on the state of the Universities—Dr. Parr’s remarks in reply.

In the year 1704, the whole civilised community of Europe and Asia, and even of America, was struck with one common sentiment of deep-felt sorrow, by the mournful intelligence of the death, after a short illness, of the excellent and incomparable Sir Wm. Jones, so justly the pride of his country, and so truly the wonder and the glory of his age. Rarely, indeed, in any age or any country, has ever been exhibited, more largely or more happily blended, all that is great with all that is good in human character; and few have commanded, in a higher degree, the esteem and the admiration, united with the love and the gratitude of mankind. In him extraordinary powers of intellect, early and diligently cultivated, were assiduously and successfully devoted to literary pursuits, very diversified in their nature; but all important, more or less, in themselves, and all consecrated, with anxious care, to the noblest purposes of human improvement and happiness. In him, also,—and this is his highest praise—the richest endowments of mind were accompanied with the best dispositions of the heart; and his talents and his virtues reflected mutual splendour on each other. His piety was at once rational and fervent; his moral taste was pure and uncorrupted; his moral and political integrity was not to be shaken by the most seductive offers of honour or profit; and the warm benevolence of spirit, which glowed so intensely in the amiable charities of private life, expanded itself into all the sentiments of the truest patriotism, and the most generous philanthropy.

As a linguist, for the extent of his attainments, he was unrivalled. His knowledge included all the ancient and most of the modern languages, amounting, in number, to no fewer than twenty-eight; many of which he studied critically, and well understood all. As a scholar, the wide range of his researches embraced the literature of the earlier, the middle, and the later ages, and of the eastern united with that of the western hemisphere. He was a man of science, as well as a man of letters; and, among other branches, directed particular attention to those of chymistry and anatomy. For the vigorous exercise of his faculties, he often dived deep into the abstruser mathematics; and, for a pleasing relaxation, amused himself with the study of botany, and the theory of music. As a lawyer, his chosen profession, he was profoundly versed in all the legal principles and forms, both of the country in which he was born, and of the distant country in which he was appointed to discharge—and most ably and faithfully did he discharge!—the highest judicial functions. India, as well as England, had cause to mourn his loss; and all the more deplored the event, as it so unexpectedly and so prematurely deprived the world of one, whom the unanimous suffrages of the wise and good of mankind have placed among the most perfect and the most exalted of human beings. He closed his short, but brilliant and important career, April 27, 1794, in the forty-seventh year of his age.

It is no slight honour, reflected on the name even of Dr. Parr, to say, that he was the early, the constant, the esteemed, and beloved friend of Sir William Jones. Their friendship began, as already related, in school-boy days, from similarity of tastes, and the union of studies and amusements. It was cemented by congeniality of sentiment on all the more important subjects of literature, politics, and religion; and was continued and increased, through advancing life, by increasing admiration of each others virtues and talents: nor was it terminated but by that last solemn event, which puts an end to all the amiable and delightful connexions of men with their fellow-men in this world, for ever.

In a pamphlet, which appeared soon after the melancholy intelligence of his death arrived in England, Dr. Parr mentions, with mournful regret, his illustrious friend, as one of the four persons who had possessed a larger share of his confidence, than any other human being; adding, “for the sake of learning and virtue, I will apply to him, with a few alterations, what Plato said of Socrates—“΄Ηδε ή τελευτη του εταιρου ήμιν εγένετο, άνδρος, ώς ήμεις φαιμεν αν πάντων ων επειράθημεν, πολυμαθέστατον, χαι μάλιστα χαλου χαι αγαθον.”1 In a later publication, Dr. Parr speaks of him “as a man raised far above his contemporaries, et natura admirabili, et exquisita doctrina, et singulari industria;”2 and, in another still more recent, calls him the illustrious and unparalleled Sir William Jones, his pre-eminently learned school-fellow and friend.”3

It has been said that Dr. Parr once designed to write the life of Sir William Jones; and, if it be so, this, and the intended lives of Johnson, Sumner, and Fox, were the four literary projects, of which the execution, no doubt, would have done equal honour to himself, and to those whose merits would have been so strikingly delineated, and so splendidly emblazoned. But of all these fair projects, alas! it is to be feared, the true and the whole account is pretty nearly as follows: that the first never proceeded beyond the mere intention of writing; that the second advanced no farther than preparatory researches, of much labour, indeed, and of no small extent; that the third ended in collecting and arranging all the materials, and yet leaving the work in a state not fit for publication; and that the last shrunk away from a “Life,” into a mere sketch of character; which, however excellent in itself, was but a small compensation to the public, for the disappointment of expectations, too inconsiderately excited on the one side, and too hastily admitted on the other.

1 Reply to Combe, p. 80. 2 Spital Sermon, p. 109.

3 Bibl. Parr. p. 225. 696.

Within a few years after the death of Sir Wm Jones, it is well known, that “Memoirs of his Life and Writings” were given to the public by his friend and his intimate associate in India, Lord Teignmouth. Though, in this work, ample justice, upon the whole, is done to the great and the elevated character which it professes to describe; yet, by many persons, to whom that character was intimately known, the work was not read without some strong feelings of disapprobation; because it fails in giving a full and fair representation of Sir William Jones’ opinions on the two most important subjects, religion and politics; or rather, because, on those subjects, it contains much misrepresentation.

Dr. Paley, according to the report of his biographer, Mr. Meadley, often animadverted, with some severity, on the very “unsatisfactory accounts” which Lord Teignmouth has given of Sir William Jones’ political principles and conduct. “He was a great republican,”1 said Dr. Paley, “when I

1 “Sir Wm. Jones’ Dialogue between a Farmer and a Country Gentleman, on the Principles of Government. A most able dialogue, published without his name, by Sir William Jones. He told me he wrote it after a conversation, in which he maintained, and Vergennes denied, that the first principles of government could be made intelligible to plain, illiterate readers. Dr. **** who was present, doubted. Jones wrote the dialogue in French. They met. Vergennes yielded—. **** decided. Jones, on his return, translated the book, and it was published, without animadversion, by the Constitutional Society. His brother-in-law, the Dean of St. Asaph, procured a Welsh translation; then came the prosecution from Fitzmaurice, the righteous and rival magistrate of the Dean. All this I heard

knew him;” alluding to a period when the accomplished barrister was distinguishing himself by his writings, and by his exertions to obtain some important reforms in the British constitution. “The sentiments which he then avowed so decidedly,” continued Dr. Paley, “he certainly never afterwards disclaimed; and his sentiments on questions of great public importance ought to have been neither extenuated nor withheld.”1 But nothing of all this appears in Lord Teignmouth’s Memoirs.

It is hardly necessary to remind the reader, that the approbation of republican principles is not in the least inconsistent with a full acknowledgment of all the excellencies which really belong to the English constitution, as fitted to secure and promote, in a high degree, the peace, the order, the freedom, and the happiness of this country. To be a true and loyal member of the British community, we are not surely required to believe that its government has touched the very point of perfection; nor are we obliged to assert that other forms or modifications of government may not hereafter be devised, more excellent than all that have preceded, more accommodated to the feelings, and better adapted to the views and wants of people, in a more advanced state of social refinement and moral improvement.

In the censure, severe as it is, pronounced by

when talking, at his chambers in the Temple, with Jones, on the Monday after he had been knighted, and the prosecution against the Dean commenced. The preface, Sir William Jones told me, was written by Bishop Shipley. S. P.”

1 Memoirs of Paley, p. 220.

Dr. Paley, on the disingenuous concealment, so discreditable to the character of Lord Teignmouth, as a biographer, Dr. Parr entirely concurred; and the same censure he extended from the account of the political, to that which is also given of the religious opinions of Sir William Jones. In describing the long and anxious inquiry which preceded conviction, as might be expected, in the case of one of the most upright, as well as enlightened of men; and in tracing the progress of his mind from a state of doubt and difficulty, to that of firm belief in the Jewish and Christian revelations, the narrative is, no doubt, substantially correct, as it is deeply interesting. But when Lord Teignmouth, whose creed is highly orthodox, laboured to make it appear that Sir William Jones adopted the same creed, he must have strangely misconceived, or wilfully misrepresented, the truth.

Dr. Parr often asserted in the hearing of the present writer, as from his own knowledge, that so far from admitting the popular views of Christianity, Sir William Jones held those which are commonly distinguished by the name of Unitarianism. That assertion is, indeed, proved, as far as negative proof can go, by the passages from his writings, produced by Lord Teignmouth in the “Memoirs.” In all these, it is impossible not to remark, the total absence of every expression, which might imply the admission of such a theological system, as that attributed to him by his biographer. Every one of his devotional pieces, and all his observations of a religious kind, proceed upon the principles of what the learned Dr. Lardner calls the ancient Nazarean doctrine, or that of the early Jewish Christians. In some degree, on the authority of these very passages, and still more, on the decisive authority of Dr. Parr,1 the writer thinks himself warranted

1 Proofs of the disingenuousness or strange misconception of Lord Teignmouth.—“The following,” says his Lordship, “is a direct and public avowal of Sir Wm. Jones’ belief in the divinity of our Saviour;”—no doubt, in the orthodox sense of the word is meant:—“The title, Son of God, was often applied, by a bold figure, agreeably to the Hebrew idiom, to angels, to holy men, and even to all mankind, who are commanded to call God their Father; and, in this large sense, the Apostle to the Romans calls the elect the children of God, and the Messiah, the first-born among many brethren. But the words only-begotten are applied transcendently and incomparably to him alone. His being born of a virgin, alone might fully justify that phrase.”—“This quotation affords,” as his Lordship adds, “a decisive proof of the belief of Sir Wm. Jones in the sublime (i. e. the orthodox) doctrines of the Christian religion!!” Again—the following expressions, Lord Teignmouth calls a decisive testimony of his reliance on the merits of a Redeemer, i. e. in the orthodox sense of the words!!—“Admit me not weighing my unworthiness, but through thy mercy declared in Christ, into thy heavenly mansions,” &c. Again—the following expressions are represented by his Lordship as an avowal of Sir Wm. Jones’ faith in the godhead of Christ!!—“I cannot help believing the divinity (not deity) of the Messiah, from the undisputed authority, and manifest completion of many prophecies, especially those of Isaiah, in the only person recorded in history to whom they are applicable.” Yet a few pages afterwards, in the same work, Sir Wm. Jones styles Moses “the divine legate.” If the above are instances of disingenuousness, is not the following something worse?—Passage as given by Lord Teignmouth, to show that Sir Wm. Jones believed the common Trinitarian doctrine. “Nothing can be more evident, than that (to use the words of Sir Wm. Jones) the Indian Triad and that of Plato are infinitely removed from the holiness and the solemnity of the Christian doctrine of the

in placing Sir William Jones amongst the members of the anti-trinitarian and anti-calvinistic schools of Christian philosophers; and of adding his illustrious name to those of Newton, Locke, and Milton, of Clarke, Tucker,1 Hartley, and Law.2

In the same year, 1794, the literary world suffered another eclipse of its splendour in the death of the author of the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.” Mr. Gibbon was exposed to much and deserved reproach, not for his rejection of Christianity—since honest, though mistaken, opinion, who has a right to condemn?—but for his artful and insidious mode of attacking it: yet it would be a violation of all justice, not to acknowledge in him, a learned and accomplished scholar, an elegant and powerful writer, a pleasing and instructive companion, and an amiable and virtuous man. But if his personal character obtained for him, less than it deserved, the general esteem; he had the gratification to receive, in its full measure, that grateful applause, to which he has entitled himself, as a writer, by directing the powers of his

Trinity, and that the Trinity of our Church cannot without profaneness be compared with that of the Hindus.”—The same passage as written by Sir William himself. “The Indian Triad and that of Plato are infinitely removed from the holiness and the solemnity of that doctrine, which pious Christians have deduced from texts in the Gospel; though other Christians, as pious, openly profess their dissent from it. Each sect must be justified by its own faith and good intentions. This only I mean to inculcate, that the Trinity of our Church cannot without profaneness be compared with that of the Hindus.”—Jones’ Works, vol. ii. p. 9. 41. 235, 236, 237.

1 Author of “The Light of Nature Pursued.”

2 Bishop of Carlisle.

mind so successfully, and by applying the stores of his learning so happily, to the elucidation of one of the most eventful and important periods in the history of the world.

Those who were in the habit of conversing with Dr. Parr, well know that he was ever accustomed to speak of Mr. Gibbon with all the respect due to the virtues of his private life, and with all the admiration due to his talents and his acquirements, as displayed in his writings, especially in his great historical work; which, in conjunction with those of Hume, of Robertson, and we now exultingly add of Roscoe, has completely redeemed the British nation from the reproach of having produced no history of high reputation and dignity. Dr. Parr could not, indeed, but deplore Mr. Gibbon’s disbelief of Christianity; and he has publicly censured him, because he cast away the evidence of all miracles whatever, and because he derided, as well as rejected divine revelation. At the same time, however, he turned with horror from the thought of deprecating his worth, as a man, or his merit as a scholar and an author. He felt and acknowledged all the force of the objections, which have been urged against some parts of his celebrated history; and yet he shrunk, with disdain, from the too common injustice of decrying, on account of these faults, the solid and the shining excellencies of a work, which will for ever remain as a monument to the fame of the author, and to the honour of the country which gave him birth.1

1 But see a very different opinion of this work pronounced by a great Warburtonian, with all the proud presumption of the

Dr. Parr could not, then, but exceedingly dislike and condemn that censorious bigotry in relation to Mr. Gibbon, which vented its rage in unmeasured abuse and indiscriminate censure; and it was with unfeigned pleasure that he bore his testimony of approbation to the strain of calm reasoning, and to the spirit of amiable candour, with which the “Apology for Christianity” is written, by a liberal and enlightened prelate, the late Bp. Watson, who, in exposing the erroneous views of Mr. Gibbon, did ample justice to the good qualities of the man, and to the great qualities of the historian. On that occasion, it excited, in Dr. Parr, the utmost indignation to hear of the perverse and petulant remark of Bp. Hurd; who, offended by the display of a spirit so opposite to that of his own Warburtonian school, converted the mildness and the candour of the reasoner into an argument against the sincerity of the writer—spitefully observing,—“The Apology was well enough, if the author were in earnest.”1

With this fair disposition to render to all their due, and to weigh impartially the merits and the defects of others, it will not surprise the reader to be told that, on receiving from Lord Sheffield, the

school to which he belonged; closing with the following words—“Mr. Gibbon survived but a short time his favourite work. Yet he lived long enough to know, that the most and best of his readers were much unsatisfied with him. And a few years more may, not improbably, leave him without one admirer. Such is the fate of those who will write themselves into fame, in defiance of all the principles of true taste and true wisdom!”—Hurd’s Works, vol. v. p. 401.

1 “Anecdotes of the Life of Bishop Watson,” vol. i. p. 99.

friend and the biographer of the deceased historian, a request to take upon himself the task of writing the monumental inscription, Dr. Parr, without hesitation, signified his compliance. Though he might see something in the character of Mr. Gibbon, of which he did not approve, yet he saw much which a Christian divine, without the reproach of inconsistency, might applaud. Aware, indeed, of the delicacy of the task, undertaken by one who was an ecclesiastic, he thought it prudent to consult the opinions of his illustrious friend, Mr. Fox, and of his much-honoured friend, Dr. Routh, of Magdalen College, Oxford; and by his own good judgment, aided by their excellent advice, he was happily guided in the choice of his topics, and the selection of his phraseology. Nothing could be more just and appropriate to the great subject of the epitaph, than the praises bestowed on the high powers of his mind, and the vast compass of his knowledge, on his pre-eminence as an historian, exhibited in the luminous pages which trace the declining and the fallen fortunes of Rome; on the richness, the harmony, the elegance, the vigour, and the splendour of his style, as a writer; on the sagacity of his observations and the moderation of his temper, as a philosopher and a politician, and on the blended kindness, affability, and dignity which marked his character as a man and a gentleman. The inscription to the memory of Gibbon is regarded, by competent judges, as one of the best of the many which proceeded from the pen of Dr. Parr.1

1 See App. No. III.

But whilst he rendered all due respect to the estimable qualities of Mr. Gibbon, Dr. Parr was not the less firm in opposing whatever might appear to him unjust or erroneous in his opinion. It is well known that Mr. Gibbon has inserted in the very interesting “Memoirs of his own Life” strictures on the moral and literary state of the two Universities; written, it may be allowed, with too much contemptuousness of spirit, and yet it cannot be denied that his remarks are founded, to a considerable degree, in truth and justice. It is certain, that the same representations in substance, though, perhaps, less offensive in form, have been held forth by other persons, whose motives few will dare to impugn, and whose authority all would be disposed to respect. For, this surely may be said of such men as Mr. Gray, Dr. Jebb and Dr. Watson, of Cambridge, and Dr. A. Smith, Dr. Napleton, Dr. Johnson, and Dr. Knox, all men of Oxford.

Amidst the vast body of notes and disquisitions subjoined to the Spital Sermon, of which some account will be given hereafter, Dr. Parr has entered on a long and elaborate vindication of the two Universities; in which he appears, the writer laments to say, too much the advocate of things as they are, and too much the opposer of such reforms as all human institutions, either from original defects, or from growing abuses, or from the altered circumstances of the times, require. In replying to Mr. Gibbon, Dr. Parr writes with a warmth of indignation, and expresses himself with a severity of censure, greater than the occasion seems to justify or even to excuse. No good reason appears for imputing to Mr. Gibbon any unworthy motive in recording the unfavourable opinion which, not himself only, but many others, have formed of the state of Oxford, and, though in a less degree, of its sister University: and it seems no more than common candour to believe, that he might be actuated by the love of learning and the generous wish of human improvement, at least as much as by resentful remembrance of the treatment which he received, in early life, from his own college, or by disdainful anger towards the three learned academics who ventured to write against him. Because he has exposed, in strong colours, some of their great and glaring defects, is it just to represent him as hostile to those ancient and venerable institutions? He might admit the advantages, which, amidst all their imperfections, they still possess; and yet, without inconsistency, condemn their abuses. He might acknowledge their utility and importance, to a certain extent; and yet desire, without reproach, to render them, by well-considered reforms, more important and more extensively useful. It is certain, that he has conferred the meed of his liberal praise upon some able and active professors, who appeared at Oxford, after his dismission; and has noticed, with ardent pleasure, the improved systems of discipline which have been, in later years, introduced into some colleges.

It is no answer to Mr. Gibbon to say, that, among the thousands, who have gone forth from Oxford and Cambridge, into the great circle of society, there have been many ingenious and learned men; men illustriously great, or eminently good. Long, indeed, and splendid is the catalogue which Dr. Parr has produced of academics, within his own time, who have been celebrated, more or less, by classical, oriental, theological, and natural knowledge, by literary talents, by professional skill, or by parliamentary abilities; and among these some, undoubtedly, there are, whose names will be inscribed with honourable distinctions in the scrolls of immortal fame. But of all these, the question is, how much did they owe to the advantages of the place, and how much to themselves, in spite of all its disadvantages? Such men, it has been well observed, are like noble and vigorous plants, which would grow and flourish, not only in the cultivated fields or gardens, but on a mountain or in a desert. Dr. Parr himself once declared, speaking of the two great Grecians, Porson and Burney, “that Cambridge, of which they were members, had nothing to do with their learning: they would have been great any where.”1 Even if it could be shown that the Universities before their late reforms were excellently adapted to the cultivation of high talent: this would not be enough; unless it could be shown also, that such a system was brought into vigorous action, as is fitted to call forth inferior ability, to animate ordinary diligence, and to stimulate by honours and rewards, to the higher degrees of common proficiency.

It is pleasing, however, to add that, as Mr. Gibbon’s complaints were not uttered without just

1 Blackwood’s Mag. Nov. 1825.

cause, so neither have they been urged without good effect. In consequence of his remonstrances, the severity of which constitutes, perhaps, their value and their efficacy, supported by the remonstrances of others, especially of Dr. Knox, which were scarcely less severe, the public attention has been drawn to this important subject, so intimately connected with all the great interests of the nation; and compelled by the stern voice of public opinion, the two Universities have admitted, though “with slow and sullen reluctance,” some great and beneficial changes; particularly, in the institution of a more useful and liberal plan of education, in the establishment of public examinations, and in the institution of college-prizes. But though much has been done, much still remains to be done; especially in rendering the new regulations more generally efficacious, by extending their salutary influence from the gifted few, to the great body of their fellow-collegians. At present the two Universities are rather to be considered as confined nunneries for genius, than as spacious and open grounds, in which ordinary minds are to be cultivated, and from which the fruits of valuable knowledge may be dispersed in rich abundance, through the whole community, including the middle, if not the lower, as well as the higher classes.

“From the sincere, the ardent, the anxious regards which I bear to both Universities,” says Dr. Parr, “I have sometimes wished to see a few alterations admitted into our academical studies; and, perhaps, in both of them might be pointed out academical men, who are capable of planning such alterations with wisdom, and of conducting them with full and visible effect.”1

Some further improvement in the system of university-education, Dr. Parr was, therefore, disposed to admit; and though his concession is warily expressed, and seems to be restricted within scantylimits, yet it is known to all his more intimate friends, that, since this passage was written, more than twenty years ago, he has considerably enlarged his views of the reforms, which are not only desirable, but urgently necessary, both in church and state, both in schools and universities. It was his decided opinion, through the later years of his life, that all our public institutions require not only to be cleared from their abuses, but to be modified and renovated, so as to be better adapted to the altered circumstances, and the improved state of the times.

Amongst the most necessary reforms in the regulation of the two great public seminaries of England, what upright and ingenuous mind can forbear to wish most ardently, that the strange, absurd, nugatory, and immoral practice may be speedily abolished, of requiring oaths to be taken for the observance of statutes, which it is impossible to enforce; and of demanding subscription to numerous and perplexing articles of faith, which have not been examined; or, if examined, it is well known, are not generally believed by those who subscribe, or even by those who demand the subscription? From this most objectionable test, in particular, and from all tests of exclusion whatever, Dr. Parr was strongly averse; and he ever stre-

1 Spital Sermon, notes, p. 111.

nuously contended, upon the principle of wise policy, as well as of strict right, for the admissibility of every member of the state, whether a member of the church or not, into the full participation of all the advantages, and all the honours, which the Universities have to bestow.

CHAPTER XXIV. A.D. 1794—1800. Death of Mr. John Smitheman—of Mr. Homer—of Bishop Horne—of Dr. Balguy—Case of Mr. Oliver, who was tried and condemned for murder at Stafford—His intended defence—Mr. Oliver visited in prison, and attended to the place of execution by Dr. Parr—Ireland’s literary imposture—Spital Sermon preached by Dr. Parr—Letter to the secretary of the Humane Society.

In the month of March, 1794, an event, distressing to Dr. Parr, happened in his own family, at Hatton. This was the death, after a few days’ illness, of one of his pupils, John, the son of John Smitheman, Esq. of West Coppice, in Shropshire. An interesting account of the piety and the sensibility, which Dr. Parr discovered, on that affecting occasion, was given by the Rev. Mr. Morley, then of Hampton Lucy, in a letter to a friend, from which the following are extracts:—

“Visiting him at Hatton, in obedience to a summons which I received,” says Mr. Morley, “I found him in the greatest distress. Such, indeed, was the bitterness of his grief, that you would have thought a darling child of his own had died. The day was spent most sorrowfully; and the next morning, after a messenger had been sent to convey the melancholy tidings to the unexpecting parents, the doctor went in search of comfort to his friend and neighbour Lord Dormer. Returning home in the evening, and entering the library, where Mrs. Parr, her two daughters, and myself, were sitting, he sat down, without speaking, by the fire, and sobbed like an infant. His attention was, however, soon called to the preparations necessary for the funeral: in the midst of which, the wonted vigour of his mind returned; and he dictated to me one of the most pathetic and impressive funeral orations, that, perhaps, have ever been penned in any language. What follows will never be effaced from my memory. We were smoking our pipes the evening before the interment, when it was told to the doctor that the coffin was about to be screwed down. He sat quietly a few moments, and then hurried me along with him to the chamber, where the deceased lay. There, after taking a last view of the corpse, he ordered the whole house to be assembled; and, falling on his knees, while his grief seemed as if it would, every moment, stop his utterance, he burst forth into an extempore prayer, so piously humble, so fervently devout, so consummately eloquent, that it drew tears from all present.”1

The remains of the deceased were interred within the chancel of Hatton Church, and the last offices of humanity and religion were performed with striking and mournful solemnity. The funeral discourse, dictated by Dr. Parr, was delivered by Mr. Morley; and deep was the impression which it fixed on all who heard it. A mural monument was afterwards placed near the grave of the much-lamented youth, of which the inscription was writ-

1 Public Characters, 1810.

ten by his afflicted tutor; who also honoured his memory by a biographical notice, which appeared in the Gentleman’s Magazine.1

Some time before this melancholy event, the learned world had to lament the loss of one of its most laborious and useful members, and Dr. Parr of one of his most respected and beloved friends, in the death of the Rev. Henry Homer, his able and diligent coadjutor in the publication of Bellendenus; whom he estimated highly as a scholar, and of whom, as a friend, he declared that, with the exception of Sir William Jones, and two persons not named, “he possessed more of his confidence than any other human being.”2 Mr. Homer was a man of pure integrity of heart, and of undeviating rectitude of conduct; and he has entitled himself to a high place in the records of honourable fame, by his firm and unshaken adherence to the dictates of conscience, in resigning his fellowship, and relinquishing all his prospects of rising in a church, to the religious dogmas of which he entertained serious and insurmountable objections. A very pleasing delineation of his moral and literary character, taken from the scattered notices of him, which occur in “Dr. Parr’s Reply to Combe,” will be found in a future page.

About the same period died at Bath, the amiable and excellent Dr. Horne, Bishop of Norwich, to whose mild virtues and respectable talents Dr. Parr has borne his testimony in the following beautiful passage:

“Of such a prelate as Dr. George Horne, who

1 Gent. Mag. April, 1794. 2 Reply to Combe, p. 79.

would not be eager to record that the life, which had been spent in virtue, was closed in calm and pious resignation? Little as I am disposed to embrace some philosophical opinions which he was known to entertain, or some proofs of scriptural doctrines which he was accustomed to enforce; I cannot forbear to praise Dr. Horne, at that moment, when to flatter him were vain. To me, his character was known only by his writings, and by report. But they who were acquainted with him personally, concur with me in giving him credit, for uniting a playful fancy with a generous heart. He is, indeed, distinguished as an antagonist of the Unitarians, and as an advocate for the Hutchinsonians. But his temper was never contaminated by the virulence of bigotry; and his taste diffused a colouring of elegance over the wild but not unlovely visions of enthusiasm. His peculiarities did not obscure his excellencies. He loved Hebrew; and he understood Greek. He defended Hutchinson; but, in spirit and in truth, he had learned Christ. His known sincerity gave a wider and a fuller effect to his celebrated piety. Dr. Horne professed only what he believed, and practised all that he taught. Having been really “a saint in crape,” he did not affect the appearance of being “twice a saint in lawn.” May the Church of England ever be adorned by such prelates, such scholars, and such men, as a Watson, a Bagot, and a Horne!”1

Nearly about the same time, that church was deprived of another of its most distinguished mem-

1 Sequel, p. 107.

bers, by the death of Dr. Thomas Balguy, Archdeacon of Winchester. He was the learned and ingenious son of a learned and ingenious father, the Rev. John Balguy, Prebendary of Sarum; to whom the religious world is indebted for several valuable moral and theological works; and especially for two volumes of Sermons, which rank among the best in the English language. It is remarkable that, while the father belonged to the school of Hoadly, the son was associated with that of Warburton: the first, the most reasonable in its doctrine, and the most liberal in its spirit, of any that was ever formed with in the pale of the English church; the last, disgraced by its paradoxical absurdities, and still more disgraced by its dogmatism and its bigotry. It appears, however, that Dr. Thomas Balguy was, of all its disciples, the least tainted with the vices of a school, to which he was attached more, perhaps, from admiration of its great master, than from approbation of its peculiar tenets, or from participation in its arrogant and intolerant temper. In 1781, the bishopric of Gloucester was offered to his acceptance; but decay of sight, and infirmity of health, obliged him to decline it. His character as a divine, a man of letters, and the friend of Warburton, is thus traced by Dr. Parr:

“No man living is, in my opinion, more able than Dr. Balguy to unfold with precision the character of Bishop Warburton, or to state with impartiality the merits of those controversies in which he was engaged. But bodily infirmities have already deprived the English church of this great and good man’s protection as a prelate; who would have been vigilant without officiousness, firm without obstinacy, and pious without superstition. The same unhappy and unalterable cause will, I fear, deprive posterity also of that instruction, which, as a biographer of Warburton, he was qualified to convey, by solid learning, by an erect and manly spirit, by habits of the most correct and enlarged thinking, and by a style which is equally pure, elegant, and nervous. The history of those who defended, and of those who opposed Warburton, would, in the hands of so consummate a master, have been a most interesting and instructive work, not unworthy of being called in Cicero’s language a πεπλογραφία Varronis.1

Early in the year 1797, the attention of Dr. Parr, in consequence of the representations of some common friend, was drawn to the melancholy case of Mr. Oliver, a surgeon of great respectability at Burslem, in Staffordshire; who appears to have been remarkably distinguished by serious religious principle and correct moral conduct, by mild and benevolent dispositions, and pleasing and engaging manners. This unfortunate gentleman had paid his addresses to Miss Wood, the daughter of a considerable potter, in that neighbourhood; and his proposals were favourably received by herself, and were approved, at first, by her father and her friends. Afterwards, however, Mr. Wood thought proper, for reasons which do not appear, to withdraw his consent, and to forbid all further intercourse between the parties. The disappoint-

1 Preface to Tracts of Warburton, &c. p. 183.

ment preyed upon a mind subject, in a high degree, to morbid irritability; and in the anguish of his spirit, Mr. Oliver was urged on to the dreadful resolution of destroying himself. For that purpose, and, as he always affirmed, for that purpose only, he borrowed pistols, east bullets, and proceeded with all the cool deliberation which, in such cases, is not uncommon.

On the morning of the day, which he had fixed for the last of his life, he went to the house of Mr. Wood, with two loaded pistols concealed about his person; and having obtained an interview with that gentleman, in the presence of his clerk, Mr. Bathwell, he inveighed, in strong terms, against the wrong and the cruelty of first encouraging, and then, for no just cause, rejecting his proposals to his daughter. He was heard with indifference, or with contempt; when—continuing his remonstrance with increasing warmth—he vehemently declared that his life was become insupportable; and finally protested that he was determined to die, and to die at that very instant, in that very house. In a moment, eagerly and hurriedly, he drew out one of his pistols; and presented it, with the butt-end, to Mr. Wood, passionately imploring death at his hands. Mr. Wood, perhaps, considering the whole as an attempt to terrify him, pushed away the pistol, with some expressions, either of cutting reproach, or of sneering insult. All this was more than Mr. Oliver, in the high-wrought, half-frensied state of his mind, could bear. He was stung, as he himself said, almost to madness; and, in the moment of extreme irritation, reversed his pistol, and fired. Mr. Wood fell, mortally wounded. The wretched perpetrator, struck with horror at his own dreadful but unpremeditated deed, instantaneously pulled out his second pistol; and, in the very act of dispatching himself, was seized, disarmed, and overpowered by Mr. Bathwell. Then, exclaiming, “Oh! what have I done!”—“what misery have I brought upon this family and upon myself!”—he sat down in an agony of grief and distraction, passively waiting the arrival of the officers of justice.

He was committed, for trial, to Stafford jail. There, in consequence of his own earnest solicitation, he was visited by Dr. Parr; to whom he disclosed all the circumstances of his case, with an urgent request that the whole might be put into the form of a defence, to be read at his trial. The request, with every assurance of compassionate concern, was granted.

Dr. Parr, on his return to Hatton, summoned to his aid the present writer, as his amanuensis; and for the greater part of two days, and almost the whole of the intervening night, they were occupied in arranging and preparing the proposed defence. He who now records the affecting story, well remembers Dr. Parr’s distressful feelings on the occasion, and his devoted attention to the task, in which he had so benevolently engaged. All the powers of his mind seemed to be stretched in full and vigorous action. In the midst of his labours, as if to excite himself to the greatest exertion, he often exclaimed, “Ah! let us do our best!”—“It is a work of justice, as well as of compassion.”—“Let us struggle to save, if not the life, at least the character, of an unfortunate, more than a guilty man.” In the course of the second day the defence was completed. The facts of the case were detailed in a clear and striking manner: much strong reasoning, and many forcible observations were introduced; and the whole was skilfully directed to the point of proving a case of that extreme provocation, to which the lenient spirit of the English law extends merciful indulgence, imputing the crime to infirmity rather than malignity; and instead of wilful murder, construing it into the milder offence of manslaughter. The closing appeal to those, on whose verdict the awful sentence of life or death depended, was powerfully pathetic, and reminded the writer of a similar address, composed by Dr. Johnson, for the unfortunate Dr. Dodd.

The defence, thus anxiously prepared, was, however, not called for. Though a strong case of gross provocation was fairly made out, yet, on careful reconsideration, under legal advice, it was thought, that resting as it did, almost entirely on the statement of the accused, unsupported by other evidence, it would fail of producing the intended effect. It was finally determined, therefore, to change the ground of defence into a plea of insanity; for which, it was believed, that sufficient evidence would be found, in the fact of hereditary mental malady, and in the deranged state of the prisoner’s mind, during his confinement, and some time before it, as attested by the evidence of his servants, several of his friends and neighbours, and especially by that of two eminent physicians, Dr. Arnold of Leicester, and Dr. E. Johnstone of Birmingham. The plea, so supported, did not, however, avail. The accused was found guilty, and received sentence of death.1

Dr. Parr arrived at Stafford a day or two before the commencement of the trial; and passed almost all his time in visiting, advising, and consoling the unhappy man; and, when every hope of life was extinguished, he exerted all his remaining efforts in administering to him the supports of friendly sympathy and of religious consolation. He passed with him almost the whole of his last day, and nearly the whole of his last night.

His behaviour, as Dr. Parr often related, was, to an astonishing degree, calm, collected, and even cheerful; except when, indeed, his unfortunate attachment was alluded to, either by himself or others; for then, he was greatly agitated—his countenance was convulsed—and his whole appearance completely maniacal. But at other times, he had generally the look, and even the smile of complacency, and seemed not to feel the least wish for life, nor the least dread of death. He acknowledged the criminality of the act, as the effect of sudden and ungovernable passion; but utterly and steadily repelled the imputation of every thing like preconceived malice, or premeditated design. Having retired for a few hours, long after midnight, Dr. Parr returned once more to his unhappy charge, early on the morning of execu-

1 See the “Trial,” published at Stafford.

tion; assisted him in the last awful preparations; accompanied him to the foot of the scaffold; and there took of him a solemn and affectionate leave. The unhappy man died with perfect composure and submission; and never after was his name mentioned by Dr. Parr, but with deep commiseration for his fate, intermingled with the regret which all must feel for his crime.

The year 1797 was remarkable, in the history of literature, for a most extraordinary imposition upon the curiosity and credulity of the nation; in which Dr. Parr, himself deceived, was made the instrument of deceiving others. This was the daring and infamous attempt of the two Irelands, father and son, to pass upon the world some forged writings of their own, for the genuine manuscripts of the incomparable Shakspeare. Amongst these, was a tragedy, called “Vortigern and Rowena,” which so far imposed upon Mr. Sheridan, then manager of Drury Lane Theatre, that he agreed to purchase it for a very considerable sum. But, on the very first night of representation, it received its sentence of condemnation, and the whole imposture was soon afterwards detected, to the full satisfaction of the public, by Mr. Malone, in an admirable work, full of deep research and of just criticism, entitled, “Enquiry into the authenticity of the pretended Shakspeare Papers,” &c.

Like many persons of unquestionable sagacity and judgment, Dr. Parr was too easily induced to give credence to the solemn affirmation of the two bold literary forgerers; and was even prevailed upon to draw up a full and formal attestation to the authenticity of their fabricated manuscripts; which he was himself the first to sign. To this instrument a considerable number of respectable names was afterwards affixed; though it is curious to observe that, among these, the name of Mr. Sheridan is not to be found. He, it seems, had always entertained some secret doubts in his mind; and it was probably under the influence of similar distrust, that the celebrated Porson, being urgently solicited to add his name to those of the attesting believers, steadily refused; wittily observing, that “he had ever felt the strongest repugnance to signing articles of faith.”

Among the forged papers is one, entitled “Shakspeare’s Profession of Faith;” in which some striking and beautiful expressions do certainly occur; though hardly enough to justify the encomium pronounced upon it by the late Dr. Joseph Warton; who, on perusing it, exclaimed, “there are many beauties in the liturgy of our church; but this composition far surpasses them all!” These words Mr. Ireland, it seems, had reported as uttered by Dr. Parr: to which circumstance Dr. Parr alludes in the following note, annexed to his copy of “Ireland’s great and impudent forgery, called ‘Shakspeare’s Miscellaneous Papers,’ &c.”—“I am almost ashamed to insert this worthless and infamously trickish book. Ireland told a lie, when he imputed to me the words which Joseph Warton uttered, the very morning when I called on Ireland, and was inclined to admit the possibility of genuineness in his papers. In my subsequent conversation, I told him my change of opinion. But I thought it not worth while to dispute in print with a detected imposter. S. P.”

Sustaining a distinguished character as a public man, warm in his attachment, firm in his adherence to the principles of those, who usually stood opposed to the measures of administration, Dr. Parr found himself, as might have been expected, shut out from the great preferments and the high dignities of the church; the honours and emoluments of which have been so notoriously employed as instruments of promoting state purposes, rather than those connected with learning or religion. But that he should never have been called by any of his ecclesiastical superiors to the honourable office of preaching at any of their visitations; or, that he should never have been raised to the rank of a magistrate, to which clergymen of far inferior consideration have so often been elevated: these are instances of studied neglect, which may surely be considered as violating the fair claims of common civilities, or as transgressing the due bounds of political decorum.

Amidst this too general neglect of learning and worth, it is pleasing to mention one public mark of respect which Dr. Parr received from an enlightened and patriotic senator, Harvey Christian Combe, Esq., then Lord Mayor of London; by whom he was nominated to preach the annual charity sermon at Christ Church, commonly called the Spital Sermon. On this occasion a large concourse of people, amongst whom were many distinguished literary characters, assembled. “Before the service began,” says one of his friends, “I went into the vestry, and found Dr. Parr seated, with pipes and tobacco placed before him on the table. He evidently felt the importance of the occasion; but felt, at the same time, a confidence in his own powers. When he ascended the pulpit, a profound silence prevailed. Unfortunately, from the great extent of the church, his voice was very imperfectly heard, especially towards the close of his sentences. The sermon occupied nearly an hour and a quarter in the delivery;1 and in allusion to its extreme length, it was remarked by a lady, who had been asked her opinion of it, “enough there is, and more than enough”—the first words of its first sentence. This bon mot, when reported to the preacher himself, was received by him with much good-humour.”2

This sermon was afterwards published by request. The subject is benevolence, considered under the amiable form of the private and partial affections, and as it assumes the grander form of universal philanthropy. Being a subject to which

1 “Apropos of the Spital Sermon. It gave birth to a tolerably facetious remark of Harvey Combe, albeit unused to the facetious mood. As they were coming out of church, after the delivery of that long discourse, ‘Well,’ says Parr to Combe, ‘how did you like it?’ always anxious for well-merited praise, from whatever quarter it proceeded. ‘Let me have the suffrage of your strong and honest understanding.’ ‘Why, Doctor,’ returned the alderman, ‘there were four things in your sermon that I did not like to hear.’ ‘State them,’ replied Parr eagerly.’ ‘Why, to speak frankly then,’ said Combe, ‘they were the quarters of the church clock, which struck four times before you had finished it.’ The joke was good-humouredly received.”—New Month. Mag. Nov. 1826.

2 New Month. Mag. Aug. 1826.

public attention was greatly directed at that time, it was not improperly nor unseasonably chosen by the preacher. But it must be acknowledged that, in his manner of conducting the discussion, and even in the spirit in which it is conducted, there is much to be disapproved. It is surely to be lamented that, in the discourse of such a preacher on such a topic, there should be more of the rhetorical declaimer than the sagacious or powerful reasoner, more of the warm and the vehement disputant contending for victory, than of the calm philosopher investigating truth, or the grave divine explaining and enforcing it.1 It is still more to be regretted that this discourse should have been the vehicle of a personal attack upon a celebrated writer, Mr. Godwin, who was, at that time, an acknowledged friend; and who, in his reply, soon afterwards published, complains, not without reason, that he was unfairly treated, since he was reproved for errors in his work, which he had ingenuously confessed, and was charged with consequences as flowing from his principles, which he utterly denied and disclaimed. But when all these objections are admitted, to their fullest extent, for this discourse the praise may still be claimed of having called forth much energy, much learning, and much eloquence to the arduous task of fixing and

1 “The Education Sermon is I think superior to his famous Spital Sermon: certainly its manner is less controversial, which is some advantage; for where Parr had any doctrine to refute, he was a stanch polemic, full as anxious to get the victory as to discover the truth.”—New Month. Mag. Nov. 1826.

elucidating the nature of general as distinguished from partial benevolence; of investigating and determining how far the one is compatible with the other; and of pointing out, and warning against, the danger of checking the growth of the private affections, on which human happiness chiefly depends, by adopting wild and extravagant theories of universal philanthropy, and of obstructing the active duties of social life, which always lie near home, by indulging the vain conceit of effecting great and important good to the whole collective species. Of this sermon some further notice will be taken hereafter.

Considering the fame of Dr. Parr as a scholar, and his powers as a preacher, it may seem strange that the influence of his name, and the aid of his services should not have been oftener employed in support of those charitable institutions, which have always owed so much to the zeal and the eloquence of the Christian advocate; and which, by their number and their importance, reflect, in so high a degree, honour on this country. It should appear, however, from a letter 1 addressed to Dr. Hawes, who had applied to him, in the name of the Royal Humane Society of London, to preach their annual sermon, that he was not much disposed to listen favourably to such applications. Of this letter the following are extracts:—

“Indeed, Sir, I am not holding the jargon of trite and hollow profession, when I express to you my grateful sense of the honour which the steward

1 Nichols’ Anecdotes.

and members of the Humane Society have conferred upon me, by requesting me to preach before them at the next anniversary. I am sure that an institution, so benevolently designed and so judiciously conducted, deserves the serious attention, and, where circumstances will admit, the active support of every conscientious clergyman.” “But the distance at which I live from London; the inconvenience which I have more than once experienced from leaving my parochial business in the spring; and the necessity which the frequent applications to me for charity sermons has imposed upon me of fixing some limitation to compliance, compels me to state, though with reluctance, that I am unable to perform the office, which, by your letter, I am desired to undertake,” &c. &c.

CHAPTER XXV. A.D. 1794-1800. Dr. Parr’s opinions—on the execution of Louis XVI on the political changes in France which followed—on the measures of the Pitt-administration—on the trials of Hardy, Tooke, and others—on the new laws hostile to freedom—County meeting at Warwick for the dismission of ministers—Affairs of Ireland—Trial of O’Coighley—Dr. Parr’s thanksgiving-sermon for the naval victories.

Adverting to the state of public affairs, it may seem needless to say that Dr. Parr, like all other reflecting persons, continued to watch, with intense and often painful anxiety, the course of events, both at home and abroad, during the whole momentous period of the French Revolution. Whilst he approved, after close and serious examination, many parts of that Revolution, and especially the limitation set to the French monarchy in 1789; he deplored the rapid and turbulent changes which followed afterwards; marked, as they were, with extravagances which scared the common reason, and attended with crimes and cruelties which shocked the common feelings of mankind. The spirit of humanity sighed to see her very name and nature forgotten, or remembered only to be outraged; and the genius of liberty wept to behold her sacred cause at once dishonoured and betrayed.

On the death of the amiable, and, in many respects, virtuous, though, it must be added, feeble and faithless monarch of France, Dr. Parr, in de-scribing the sentiments of Mr. Fox, expressed his own. “That most deplorable event may have surprised other men more than it did such observers as Mr. Fox; but no Christian, however pious—no loyalist, however ardent—no human being, however compassionate, viewed it with more horror and indignation.”1

Of many of the Brissotine party, one of the first which bore sway in revolutionary France, Dr. Parr had conceived a favourable opinion.2 He called them that determined phalanx of moderate men, whose wisdom and whose vigour were destined to uphold the state; whose virtues were set in motion, and in appearance brought into being by the shock of empires; and who will, in the midst of havoc and disorder, by their authority, strike down bad citizens; and, by their counsels, hush the warring elements of passion and interest into peace.3 The encomium on their merits and intentions might be no more than just; but the augury of their success proved too favourable. In the political hurricane

1 Fox’s Characters, vol. i. p. 293.

2 Of one of these Dr. Parr thus speaks: “Viewed on the fairer side of his character, M. Condorcet seems to have been worthy of happier times than those in which he lived, of better colleagues than many of those with whom he acted, and of enemies far nobler than those by whom he was destroyed. His knowledge was various and recondite; his genius was vigorous and comprehensive; and upon one atrocious deed, to which he was impelled by the frenzy of political resentment, and the waywardness of philosophical fanaticism, who does not wish that the accusing angel may drop a tear?”—Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 143.

3 Sequel, p. 67.

which followed the death of the king, they were found unequal to the task of steering the vessel of the state. It was wrecked, and they perished in the storm.

The reign of tyranny and terror followed under Robespierre and the Jacobins; but fortunately it was of short duration. Within a few months after he had gained the perilous ascendancy, the tyrant fell; and those who had been the instruments of his oppressions and his cruelties perished with him, to the number of twenty-one, on the scaffold. “I congratulate France, Europe, and the whole civilised world,” said Dr. Parr, speaking of this event, “on the extinction of such restless and remorseless enemies to the human race.”1

But whilst he looked with dismay and with horror on the poisonous maxims broached, and on the dreadful outrages committed, in a neighbouring country, “I felt no obligation,” as he said, “to speak smooth things upon all that is passing at home.” Indeed, he not only condemned the anti-gallican war, in its principle and in its object; but all the great and leading measures of the Pitt-administration, he utterly disapproved and vehemently reprobated. The arbitrary maxims of government, too openly avowed—the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, on the slightest pretences, five or six times, in the course of a few years—the long and rigorous confinement of vast numbers of persons, not one of whom was afterwards brought to trial—the extreme severity, with which prose-

1 Reply to Combe, Pref. p. 4.

cutions for libel were conducted—the lavish expenditure of the public money, especially in loans to foreign states—all these and some other measures, breathing the same spirit, following each other in quick succession, were indeed sufficient to excite, in every true friend of his country, feelings of the deepest distress and dismay, if not of despair.

But of all the proceedings of the Pitt-administration, there was none which struck the minds of men of all parties with amazement and fearful apprehension, more than the attempt to fasten the charge of high-treason upon those, who might, perhaps, have been justly regarded as wild or visionary reformers; but whose utmost offence could not, by the law of England, have been pushed one step beyond the crime of sedition. Dark, indeed, and disgraceful is the page of British history, which records that such persons as the respectable Thomas Hardy, the celebrated Horne Tooke, the upright and ingenious Jeremiah Joyce, and nine or ten others, most or all of them men of irreproachable characters, were brought to the bar [of justice] accused as traitors, for engaging in a plan, openly and peaceably, of which the only object was, to introduce a purer system of representation, in the very spirit, once professed by the prime minister himself, and on the very principles once avowed and recommended by another distinguished member of His Majesty’s government.1—Proh patria, inversique mores!

It was, on this occasion, that the late Lord

1 Duke of Richmond, in his famous letter to Col. Sharman.

Erskine, then Mr. Erskine, attained the height of his fame as an orator, and of his glory as a patriot, by his astonishing exertions, in conducting the defence of the accused, and in maintaining the rights of men and Englishmen. Nothing could exceed the general joy diffused through the country, when, after a long investigation, the verdict of acquittal, in defiance of all the powers of government, was pronounced. Even those who were most opposed to the principles of the reformers, strongly felt that their own, and every man’s security, was involved in the issue of the trial; and they might have adopted the language of Dr. Johnson, on a similar occasion, “I am glad these people were not convicted of this constructive treason; for though I hate them, I love my country, and I love myself.”

In the universal admiration, which followed the glorious defender of English law and liberty, none participated more largely than Dr. Parr. It was for a long time afterwards his delight to talk of him to every one, as an advocate, raised up, it might almost be thought, by a special Providence, exactly suited to the magnitude and importance of the occasion—coming intrepidly forward at an awful crisis in the fate not only of many individuals, but of the whole nation—exerting efforts, which for courage, perseverance, ardour, and ability, seemed almost supernatural; completely baffling, and, at length, triumphantly defeating, one of the boldest and the basest machinations, which had ever yet been formed against the dearest rights and liberties of Britons, and which involved every principle to be detested, and threatened every consequence to be dreaded. Something like what has been stated, was the fervid and the energetic language, in which Dr. Parr was accustomed to speak of the talents, the eloquence, and the patriotism, so brilliantly displayed by Mr. Erskine, on this momentous occasion; and which proved happily successful in beating down a most daring and flagitious attempt to destroy political opponents by the bloody hand of the executioner, and to change the principles of a free, into those of a despotic government.

The high opinion which Dr. Parr entertained of Lord Erskine’s public services, and his grateful sense of some private obligations conferred upon himself, he has thus expressed in his “last will.” “I give to the Right Honourable Lord Erskine a mourning ring, as a mark of my unfeigned respect for his noble exertions, in defending the constitutional rights of juries, and the freedom of the press; and for his vigorous and effectual resistance to the odious principle of constructive and accumulative treason: and I thankfully add, for his disinterested acts of kindness to my sister and to myself.”

On the publication of “Lord Erskine’s Speeches at the Bar,” in five octavo volumes, a splendid copy was sent to Dr. Parr; accompanied with a letter, which conveyed, in the most gratifying manner, assurances from the noble donor, of his veneration and his affection for the scholar and the friend, to whose acceptance they were presented, and to whose favourable attention they were submitted. From this letter, the following extracts are here given:—“Dear Dr. Parr—If I had published these volumes myself, you should have had the very first copy of them. If they contain nothing that may advance the cause of the world, they ought to be presented to nobody; but if they do—in whose library can they be so fitly put as in yours?—though, on my own account, I fear the severe judgment of one, who must have ever present to his mind the superior compositions of antiquity.”—“My hope, however, is, that you may be deceived into an approbation of them, when you recollect that it is the cause of our own renowned and beloved country, which is pleaded in them—and by an old and sincere friend,” &c.—“Erskine.”

Disappointed in their attempt, by the perversion of law, to crush the spirit of reform and of freedom, the Pitt-administration next endeavoured to effect their purpose, by introducing great and ominous changes into the laws themselves. With this view, they brought forward two tremendous bills; one in the Upper House, by Lord Grenville, called “The Treason Bill;” which went the length of throwing down some of the best securities, provided, by the wise and venerable law of Edward III., for the safety of the subject; and which, also, defined the crime of sedition, in words so vague, as to include every action which ministers might please to term seditious. The punishment, too, for this last offence, before severe enough, was now extended, on a second conviction, from fine and imprisonment, to the barbarous punishment of transportation for seven years. Not less objection-able was the second bill, introduced by Mr. Pitt, in the Lower House. It was called “A Bill to prevent Seditious Meetings;” but it might properly have been entitled—a Bill to fetter the free exercise of the right of discussing public measures, and of petitioning for the redress of grievances. “When that Bill passed,” said Mr. Fox, “the most valuable part of the British constitution was gone; its foundation and its corner-stone were subverted and destroyed.” Of these new and arbitrary laws, Dr. Parr never spoke but with perfect horror; and as a strong expression of his feelings, the standing toast, for some time, regularly given by himself, at his table, was “A bill1 for the framers of the two Bills.”

It cannot be denied, that the Pitt-administration was long supported by a large majority, not only of the two Houses, but of the nation; whose fears were powerfully acted upon, by many terrifying events in the progress of the French Revolution—by the astonishing success of the French arms—by the dread of a threatened hostile invasion, and by the perpetual alarm of domestic plots and conspiracies, which it was the aim of a detestable policy to excite and propagate.

But at length the ruinous effects of a protracted and unsuccessful war produced in the public mind strong feelings of dissatisfaction with the conduct of government; and early in the year 1797, meetings for the purpose of obtaining a change of men and measures were held in many parts of the kingdom; the metropolis spiritedly leading the way.

1 A kind of hatchet with a hooked point.

Amongst others, a meeting of the county of Warwick was convened, under the authority of the high-sheriff, Robert Knight of Barrels, Esquire, which was so numerously attended, that it was necessary to adjourn from the Shire-hall in Warwick to the race-ground. Here, a petition to the king, stating the causes of complaint, and praying for the dismission of ministers, was moved by Sir John Throckmorton, seconded by Bertie Greatheed, Esq., and supported by some other gentlemen, and particularly by Sir Francis Burdett—who, on that occasion, almost for the first time, assumed the public character, which he has since sustained, with so much honour to himself, and so much benefit to his country. In the great object of this meeting Dr. Parr entirely concurred; and he exerted all his efforts to promote it. He was not only present; but it was also his intention, though he afterwards relinquished it, to deliver a speech, previously written, which he read to the writer; who has still a clear recollection of it, as a vehement and powerful remonstrance against the maxims and the measures of an administration, so long possessing, and so ill-requiting the public confidence. The proposed petition to the throne was approved and adopted, by a large majority, amidst the loudest acclamations.

The whole history of Ireland, since its first connexion with England, in the reign of Henry II., consists of little but accounts of public disturbances, arising from the most deplorable misrule; and proceeding, in the usual course, from discontent to disaffection—and from secret disaffection to open revolt. In 1797, a conspiracy of a deep and dangerous nature was formed, into which many of the most honourable men in the country, from pure and patriotic, however mistaken, motives, had entered. Of these, two persons, one the celebrated Arthur O’Conner, the nephew and the reputed heir of Lord Longueville—and the other, James O’Coighley, a Catholic priest of high spirit and great address, were seized in Margate, at the moment of their intended embarkation for France, on a secret mission, it was said, to the French Directory. They were tried at Maidstone, on a charge of high-treason. O’Conner was acquitted; but O’Coighley was found guilty, received sentence of death, and was executed. He died with the calm and heroic fortitude of a martyr, suffering in what he conceived to be the cause of his country.1

Dr. Parr, who respected the patriotism, and pitied the fate of the unfortunate O’Coighley, was soon afterwards in company with a young barrister, a native of Scotland, who had greatly distinguished himself by his powerful writings in favour of civil and religious liberty. At that time, however, he was suspected of the intention of immolating his principles on the shrine of his ambition; though whatever may have been his temporary errors and inconsistencies, an admiring and grateful nation will acknowledge, that, by a splendid course of

1 “Observations on the Trials of O’Coighley, Admiral Byng, Fenning, Perreau. I think that O’Coighley was harshly treated. I hold that Byng was murdered. I hold with the utmost confidence that Elizabeth Fenning was innocent. I doubt the innocence of Robert Perreau, but I always pitied him.”

public services, he has since nobly redeemed them. In the course of conversation, this gentleman had observed, that O’Coighley richly deserved his fate, since it was impossible to conceive of a greater scoundrel. “By no means, sir,” said Dr. Parr; “for it is very possible to conceive a greater scoundrel. He was an Irishman—he might have been a Scotchman; he was a priest—he might have been a lawyer; he was a traitor—he might have been an apostate!”

After the commencement of the revolutionary war, a royal proclamation was issued every year for the observance of a fast; and a service for the occasion, composed by the bishop, was ordered to be read in churches. Many of these services were such as Dr. Parr could not approve, because, in his opinion, they were calculated to flatter national pride, and to offer unmanly insult to the feelings, or unjust reproach to the character, of the nation with which we were at war. But, whilst he was careful, as he himself has stated, “from motives of decorum, not incompatible, he trusted, with integrity, and in conformity to the obligations imposed upon him, not so much by his personal conviction, as by his clerical office, without any addition, any diminution, or any alteration whatever, to read every sentence, every word, every syllable, and every letter, which his civil and ecclesiastical superiors had been pleased to prescribe for common use on these days;”1 he was careful, at the same time,

1 In the passages here quoted from a Ms. sermon by Dr. Parr, some nice distinctions are drawn, which the writer con-

to state fully and clearly his own opinions on all the great questions of public interest, and especially on the war itself—which he always reprobated in its principle, condemned in its object, and deplored in its continuance. “I must confidently assert my right,” said he, on one of these occasions, “to distinguish between compliance and assent; and to contend, that they who may be authorised to demand the homage of external submission, are not therefore authorised to explore, and much less to controul, the operations of private judgment.”

On the 19th December, 1797, in consequence of the late naval victories, a day of national thanksgiving was appointed, when his majesty, the members of the two houses of parliament, and the great officers of state, went in grand triumphal procession to St. Paul’s; and when the flags taken from the Spanish, the French, and the Dutch, were borne in solemn pomp, and deposited with holy exultation on the altar of that cathedral. A remarkable sermon, of which a Ms. copy now lies before the writer, was delivered by Dr. Parr, on this occasion, at Hatton, from which the following extracts are subjoined:—

That he did not sympathise in the spirit of self-gratulation, and of exultation over the defeated enemy, in which the nation at that time too much indulged, appears from the following passage:

“I cannot think that a man fulfils the most im-

fesses he cannot admit; and the whole, considered as an apology for reading with the lips, in the solemn services of religion, what the heart disapproves, he must own, is to him unsatisfactory.

portant purposes of this solemnity, by gazing at the pageantries of splendid spectacles, or by haranguing on the glories of successful conflicts. I cannot shut my eyes to the frightful devastation of war, be it just or unjust, be it necessary or unnecessary. I cannot deafen my ears to the loud and piercing lamentations of my fellow-creatures, be they sufferers in this or any civilised country. In truth, to those intelligent, dispassionate, and benevolent friends of mankind, who turn away from senseless clamour to solid fact; who ascend from prejudices to principles; who consecrate that which is sound in philosophy by that which is pure in religion; who measure the properties of things by their effects, and the merit of agents, not by their professions, however plausible, not by their rank, however elevated, but by their actions alone: to all such persons, it may now and then be difficult to reconcile appearances with realities, the commands of legitimate authority with the scruples of sober reason, the prudential regulations of human governments with the righteous and awful dispensations of Divine Providence.”

The self-flattery of nations is thus exposed:

“In reality, the current and favourite language of states is a very precarious rule for distinguishing either their comparative or their absolute deserts. All refuse to others, what each arrogates to itself. All disavow ambition, and none resist it. All are ready to deplore the evils of sanguinary contention, and none are reluctant to inflict them, where pride is to be flattered, or revenge is to be inflicted. All impute the miscarriages of their enemy to the in-justice of his pretensions; and none have the sagacity or the fortitude to assign the cause for the disasters that befal themselves. At the moment in which they chant their hymns of praise, all declare that it is the Right Hand of the Lord which alone giveth the victory; and, at the next, they burst out into vehement and vaunting encomiums upon their own matchless wisdom and their own mighty power. All acknowledge their numberless and crying iniquities, while they bend the knee in any sacred place of worship; and all boast of their peculiar and superior virtues as soon as they are out of it. All affect to deprecate the displeasure of the Deity, when they profess to humble themselves before him ‘in sackcloth and ashes;’ and all challenge his favour, when they array their hosts and raise aloft their standards, and blow aloud the trumpet as a signal for attack and carnage. Common sense, no doubt, recoils from such glaring inconsistencies, philosophy startles at them, and philanthropy shrinks from them.”

The following is an awfully striking picture of the calamities of war, accompanied with a powerful appeal to the moral responsibility of all who encourage or promote it:

“When fields are desolated—when ancient and towering cities are torn from their deep foundations—when the tempest pours its undistinguishing and unrelenting rage alike against the throne of the monarch and the cottage of the peasant—when all the harmless enjoyments which solace, and all the useful arts, which adorn social life, are at a stand—when industry droops, without the means of employment—when misery sighs, without the prospect of succour—when indigence pines without a pittance of daily bread—when the blood of man formed in God’s own image is deliberately and systematically shed by the hand of man—when the orphan weeps in solitude and silence, and the grey hairs of a father are brought down with sorrow to the grave; surely, amidst such scenes there is something upon which a man of reflection may be permitted to pause; when he recollects, that for all these, they who counsel, they who execute; aye, my brethren, and they too who rashly approve, must one day render a strict account before that Being ‘unto whom all hearts are open, and all desires, however secret, are known.’”

That Dr. Parr seriously disapproved the custom of depositing the trophies of war on the altars, or of suspending them within the temples of a holy and benevolent religion, appears from the following passage:1

“In all probability there was more good sense, more good nature, more tenderness towards man, more humility before God, in a compact between certain heathen nations, by which it was stipulated, that, in order to prevent any arrogant, lasting, and insulting memorial of the contests, which might arise between neighbouring countries, no armour should be hung up, no pillars should be erected, but an inverted spear only should be

1 “The placing military banners in cathedrals was highly censured by my preceptor, who said, ‘It is a pagan custom. The temple of the God of peace ought not to be polluted with the blood-stained trophies of war.’”—New Monthly Mag. Aug. 1826.

placed on the spot of victory. So strange, however, and arbitrary are the changes of language, that the word trophy, which, in its original signification, specifically and emphatically implied the inoffensive, unassuming, temporary mark of military superiority, should be transfixed to those prominent and permanent signs by which the haughtiness of conquerors would perpetuate the fame of their achievements, and expose the weakness of their vanquished foes to the scorn of distant ages.”

CHAPTER XXVI. A.D. 1800-1803. Dr. Parr’s Spital Sermon—Its subject—In the first part a protest against Godwin’s “Political Justice”—in the second, an answer to Turgot’s Strictures on Charitable Institutions—The notes—Quotations from ancient and modern authors—Remarks on the obligation of gratitude, &c.—Atheism and superstition compared—Defence of the two Universities—Doctrine of future rewards and punishments—Dr. Parr’s Sermon on Patriotism—Reply to the argument of Lord Shaftesbury—and of Soame Jenyns—True and false patriotism—Conclusion.

The sermon, commonly called the Hospital, or, by abbreviation, the Spital Sermon, is annually preached at Christ Church, Newgate-street, before the Lord Mayor of London, and the incorporated governors of various charitable institutions, chiefly of royal foundation, established in the City. In compliance with the request of his friend, Harvey Christian Combe, Esq., who, at that time, filled the civic chair, on Easter Tuesday, 1800, Dr. Parr delivered the discourse, of which some account is now to be given.

It is much to be regretted that, instead of a moral and religious disquisition, on the subject of which it professes to treat, the preacher should have allowed his discourse to assume the form of a personal attack, as already noticed, on a very distinguished writer and a friend; and still more to be regretted is the want of fairness and candour, so evident, in declaiming, vehemently and acrimoniously, against the errors of a system, even after those errors had been publicly acknowledged and abjured. It is true, the ingenuous confession, which did so much honour to the author of “Political Justice,” is inserted, by Dr. Parr, among “the notes,” accompanied with its due commendation, in the following words:—“I will not insult the foregoing observations with the name of concessions. I am more disposed to consider them as modifications, suggested by maturer reflection, and expressed with some degree of contrition, that they had neither occurred to the writer, nor had been conveyed to the reader before.”1

But even these commendatory expressions, almost concealed and lost as they are amidst a vast body of notes, could hardly be considered as a sufficient reparation for the injury done by the bitter invectives scattered through a discourse, which was delivered to a crowded audience from the pulpit, and afterwards to the world from the press. Such a procedure, it must be owned, wears too much the air of a private apology for a public affront. If acknowledged error must be proclaimed aloud, and censured with unsparing severity, justice surely demands that the rare merit of the frank and explicit acknowledgment should be, at least, as openly announced and applauded.

But waving these objections to the form of this discourse, and to the spirit which too much pervades it, even in the subject matter of it, the

1 Page 52.

reader will, probably, find much to which his judgment will not readily yield assent.

Entering on the consideration of his important subject, benevolence, the preacher begins with stating and condemning two theories, which have been proposed for explaining the nature and the origin of the social affections. The first of these he reproachfully terms the “selfish system;” though in reality, when cleared from offensive and objectionable terms, and represented in its true form, it seems to be the most reasonable and probable of all the theories, which have yet been suggested.1 According to that theory, the essence of virtue consists in its tendency to promote the highest happiness of every individual; and moral obligation resolves itself, at last, into that all-powerful obligation, which is imposed upon every intelligent being, of providing, in the best possible manner, for his own true and permanent felicity. What are called disinterested affections, according to the same theory, always take their first rise from interested motives, or from views of personal good; and it is only by length of time, and a succession of efforts, that they reach their disinterested state; or that state, in which they prompt to action, without the least regard to considerations of self-advantage, and even with a certain degree, more or less perfect, of self-oblivion. If it be said that a noble and generous action may be performed, solely for its own sake, or for the sake of some gra-

1 This theory is adopted in its principle by Bishop Cumberland, Rutherforth, Brown, Helvetius, Hume, Hartley, Tucker, Gisborne, and Belsham.

tification, arising out of itself; still it may be asked, what is that very gratification but another name for happiness to the agent, and happiness too of the most pure and exalted kind?

But though to this theory the term selfish seems to be contemptuously applied by Dr. Parr, and though he found much to censure, no doubt, in the representations which have been sometimes given of it, especially by the Epicureans of old, and by the schoolmen of the middle ages, yet when placed in its true light, and guarded against abuses, it is evidently the theory which he himself adopted. For thus, in one place, he expresses himself: “I grant that every man’s satisfaction is the spring that actuates all his motions;”1 and though he affirms that “our sympathy with others arises from the very constitution of our nature, and not from any views of personal advantage;”2 yet he afterwards gives, not very consistently with this, the following account of the origin and progress of the benevolent affections: “Probable it is that, by the laws of association, the elements of these affections, which impel us ‘to weep with those that weep,’ and ‘to rejoice with those that rejoice,’ were first brought into action, by events which immediately interested ourselves—which produced our own pleasure, or removed our own pain.”3

The second of the two theories, and that which is more particularly noticed and censured by Dr. Parr, he calls the “philanthropic system;” or that which requires us to direct our benevolent thoughts

1 Page 32. 2 Page 2. 3 Page 4.

and wishes, and even our active efforts, if we can, to the good of the whole collective species: but not surely to the exclusion, nor even to the neglect, of the kind and affectionate regards which we owe to those more immediately connected with us. No modern advocate of the doctrine of philanthropy could mean more, than that universal benevolence is the supreme law of our moral nature, as it certainly is of our divine religion; and that to it, therefore, all the partialities of kindred and friendship must be held in due subordination. Such, indeed, is the wise provision of nature, that the excess is more common than the want of those charities of husband, father, brother, son, on which human happiness so much depends. Here, consequently, there is less urgent call for the exertion of the moralist; whilst, on the other hand, the benevolent affections, which have for their object men in the larger circles of neighbourhood, country, and the world, usually require to be expanded rather than contracted, and need much oftener to be warmed into life and urged into activity, than to be checked and chilled. If, then, it should be found that Mr. Godwin has spoken too little in favour of the private affections, and too much in praise of general benevolence; this is not surely an offence which required to be visited with all the severity of censure bestowed upon it by Dr. Parr. On such a subject, from such a man, who could have expected language so full of reproach, as the following?

“If you compare the selfish with the philan-thropic system, you will find that the one never occasioned so much mischief as it seemed to threaten; and that the other will be productive of less good than it promises, accompanied by a long and portentous train of evils, which had been negligently overlooked, or insidiously disguised by its panegyrists.”1—And again—“In the motives by which the philanthropist is impelled, the kind affections may be so writhed round the unsocial; in the character of his actions, the freaks of absurdity may be so blended with the outrages of wickedness, that if our common sense did not revolt from the incongruous mass, scarcely any process could separate affectation from hypocrisy, delusion from malignity, that which deserves only pity or contempt from that which calls aloud for reprobation.”2

Proceeding from his introductory observations to the more particular consideration of his text, which is happily chosen from Gal. vi. 10. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith—the preacher observes, that “this text, like many other passages of Scripture, has the substance, without the form of genuine philosophy;” that “in language obvious to every understanding, it exhibits the result of the most minute analysis which can be given of our faculties and duties as social beings;” that “it contains all that is practicable in the doctrine of general benevolence, and all that is required of us indispensably by that which is particular.” To these observations a critical re-

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mark is added on the original expression εργαζώμεθα το άγαθον, which is pursued at great length in a learned note.” That expression it is shown implies not merely to do good, but to labour to do good—or to exert strenuous efforts in doing it. “As to the import of the text, nothing,” says the preacher, “can be more just than the condition laid down by the apostle, let us labour in doing good as we have opportunity:—nothing more comprehensive than the precept, let the good be done unto all men:—nothing more proper than the preference given, to than who are of the household of faith.”1

Having explained the language of his text and proceeding to the two-fold division of his subject—in the first, the preacher proposes to consider the nature of benevolence, general and partial, and the consistency of the one with the other; and in the second, to inquire into the value of the charitable institutions placed under the charge of the incorporated governors, to whom the discourse was particularly addressed.

Under the former of these divisions—after stating the obvious fact, which no philanthropist would attempt to deny, that the more remote our connexion with social beings, in the same degree our benevolent feelings become less vivid, and our desires for their happiness less ardent and anxious—and after having admitted almost as fully as the most ardent philanthropist could desire, not only the practicability, but the duty, of extending our kind thoughts and good wishes, wide as the world of human creatures—he goes on to observe:—

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“Now whether we conceive of universal benevolence as a quality of nature, or a principle of action, it is highly expedient for us not to misunderstand its properties or its offices. I admit and I approve of it as an emotion of which general happiness is the cause; but not as a passion of which it could often be the object. I approve of it as a disposition to wish, and, as opportunity may occur, to desire and to do good to those with whom we are quite unconnected. I approve of it as a capacity, sometimes to receive uneasiness from their pains and satisfaction from their joys; but an uneasiness and a satisfaction far less frequent, less intense, less permanent, than the uneasiness and satisfaction which we feel for those around us, and by which we are stimulated to act as we feel in their behalf.”1

In this passage, the preacher’s design seems to be to show the difference between himself and the philanthropists, whom he opposes; and yet so small and evanescent does the difference, after all, appear, that we might almost wonder at the zeal of the opposer, as Mr. Godwin himself observes, if it were not recollected how often the warmth of disputation rises, exactly in proportion to the minuteness of the point which divides the disputants. There are some other passages, besides, in which concessions are made in favour of universal benevolence, large enough to please and satisfy the most enthusiastic of its admirers. Still, however, the preacher apprehends that the doctrine of philanthropy may be pushed too far, so as to produce

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“a long and portentous train of evils;” some of which he thus enumerates:—

“If the mother could forget the child that hung at her breast—if the friend, with whom we took sweet counsel together, should forsake us, when we are compelled to beg our daily bread—if they who have trodden the same soil with ourselves, spoken the same language, followed the same customs, enjoyed the same rights, obeyed the same laws, bowed before the same altar, should be no more endeared to us than other men, whose kindness we have never experienced, whose faces we have never seen, whose voices we have never heard—if all these things were done under the pretence ‘of cultivating universal philanthropy,’ what would become of society; which parental affection, which friendship, which gratitude, which compassion, which patriotism do now uphold?—how changed would be the scenes around us?—how blunted the edge of all our finer affections?—how scanty the sum of our happiness?—how multiplied and embittered the sources of our woe?”1

To this ardent and eloquent appeal against the dangers of philanthropy, would it not be fair to reply—that if the doctrine of universal benevolence could be so far perverted as to produce, or even to encourage, insensibility to the claims of kindred, friends, and countrymen, this would be a gross abuse of the doctrine, like that to which the best principles of religion and morality are liable; but that, from the natural and almost irresistible strength of the private and domestic affections, such

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an abuse can hardly be conceived as falling within the limits of possibility, certainly not of probability. “A sound morality requires,” says Mr. Godwin, “that nothing human should be regarded by us as indifferent; but it is impossible we should not feel the strongest interest for those persons whom we know most intimately, and whose welfare and sympathies are united with our own.” And again:—“Philanthropy is a bank, in which every creature that lives has an interest; the first and preferable tallies being, by the very nature of the case, in the possession of those who are nearest to us, and whom we have the most frequent opportunity to benefit.”1 Against the doctrine thus stated, what reasonable objection can be opposed? or what moral dangers can be apprehended from it to the growth or the vigour of the parental or the filial affection, or to the sentiments of love, friendship, and patriotism?

Proceeding from the first to the second division of his subject—the preacher here offers some remarks, in reply to the objections of a celebrated foreigner against charitable institutions in general, founded chiefly on the abuses, to which long experience has shown they are ever liable: sometimes, indeed, though not often, it is to be hoped, to the extent of subverting all the purposes of utility which they were intended or adapted to accomplish. This foreigner was the late M. Turgot, minister to Louis XVI., “who had deeply explored,” says Dr. Parr, “the true science of politics, and was sincerely attached to the interests of humanity.” The objections of such a man are

1 Godwin’s Reply to Parr, &c.

considered and answered, with all the respect and deference due to him. In showing that these objections least of all apply to the charitable institutions of which he was then the advocate,1 the preacher expatiates, with much feeling and force, on the advantages which, under a wise system of management, they still afford, for the relief of almost all the wants and miseries of men in the lower classes of the community; and with a solemn and pathetic appeal to his audience, in their behalf, he concludes.

Not the least valuable, and by far the most extensive portion of this publication, is the notes, which comprise, besides several disquisitions, a vast miscellaneous collection of extracts from writers, ancient and modern, bearing more or less on the topics discussed in the sermon. Among the former, Aristotle and Plutarch furnish, in rich abundance, their share of these quotations; and, next to them, Plato and Seneca. Gassendi, the great impugner of the Aristotelian doctrines, is often appealed to. Of the more modern writers, many valuable passages are borrowed from Lord Bacon, Bishops Taylor and Butler, Hutchinson, Adam Smith, Hume, Tucker; and next to these,

1 These are the five following institutions:—Christ’s, St. Thomas’, St. Bartholomew’s, Bethlem, and Bridewell hospitals. The encomiums bestowed on the four first of these noble institutions are probably just. But the last, with an endowment of 8000l. a year, is shamefully perverted from its original purpose, which was that of a school of industry for untaught youth, a place of occupation for unemployed men, and a house of refuge for the infirm, the vagrant, and the destitute. It is now used as a common prison!

from Barrow, Bentham, Kaimes, Hooker and Reid. As an apology for his numerous quotations from writers supposed to look with no favourable eye on the evidences of revelation, Dr. Parr fairly and liberally observes, that they who speak truth, howsoever discovered, have a right to be heard; and they who assist others in discovering it, have the yet higher claim to be applauded; and surely upon the propriety of any practice recommended by reason, as well as inculcated in the Scriptures, the testimony of supposed deists is no less weighty among the impartial, nor less acceptable to the serious, than that of professed Christians.

Of the disquisitions, as from their length they may be called, which occur among the notes, the first is, on the question whether general character in the object ought to influence the exercise of compassion in cases of distress, or of gratitude in return for kindness received. The difficulty of determining the moral merits of another is strongly urged; and independently of its connexion with the question proposed, the following passage, which may be read as an appeal against censoriousness, is striking:—

“Who art thou that judgest another? Who has laid open to thee every thought of his heart?—or made to thee every effect and every tendency of his actions known? Who has revealed to thee every extenuating circumstance of his misconduct, or every secret, minute, and exquisitely delicate motive, which in the sight of heaven may have enhanced the merit of his better deeds? Who has thrown open to thy view the register, in which are recorded all that he has done well, and all that he has done amiss, from his youth upwards until now? If the tree which is very good can easily be discerned from the tree which is very corrupt; yet in most of the objects that are placed before thee, canst thou determine how many blossoms of virtue have faded away from want of nourishment, of opportunity, or encouragement, or example? How many have reached their full maturity unobserved by thee? How many roots of good intention may yet be exempt from decay, and, in due season, bring forth fruit, some ten, and some a hundred fold?”1

The effects of atheism and superstition compared, form the subject of the second disquisition; in which occurs the following passage, admired by many of his friends, and considered by the author himself as the best in his book:

“What, I would ask, are the general effects of superstition and atheism upon the happiness and the conduct of mankind? Superstition, it is granted, has many direct sorrows; but atheism has no direct joys. Superstition admits fear, mingled with hope; but atheism, while it excludes hope, affords a very imperfect security against fear. Superstition is never exposed to the dreary vacuities in the soul, over which atheism is wont to brood in solitude and silence; but atheism is sometimes haunted by forebodings, scarcely less confused, or less unquiet, than those by which superstition is annoyed. Superstition stands aghast at the punishment reserved for wicked men in another state; but

1 Page 71.

atheism cannot disprove the possibility of such a state to all men, accompanied by consciousness, and fraught with evils equally dreadful in degree, and even in duration, with those punishments. Superstition has often preserved men from crimes; but atheism tends to protect them from weaknesses only. Superstition imposes fresh restraints upon the sensual appetites, though it may often let loose the malignant passions; but atheism takes away many restraints from those appetites, without throwing equal checks upon those passions, under many circumstances, which may excite them, in the minds of its votaries. Superstition is eager from a vicious excess of credulity; but atheism is obstinate from an excess of incredulity equally vicious. Superstition is sometimes docile from conscious weakness; but atheism is always haughty from real or supposed strength. Superstition errs and perverts only in consequence of error; but atheism rejects, and, for the most part, disdains to examine after rejection. Superstition catches at appearances; but atheism starts back from realities. Superstition may, in some favourable moment, be awakened to the call of truth; but atheism is generally deaf to the voice of the charmer ‘charm she ever so wisely.’”1

The longest and the most remarkable of all the discussions, pursued under the form of notes, is the defence of the two universities, in answer to the objections of Gray, and still more of Gibbon. Of this some notice has already been taken. It is extended through the space of thirty-two closely-

1 Page 97.

printed quarto pages, and closes with the following words: “For the time I have spent, and the efforts I have made in this note, I, with great sincerity and great confidence, urge the plea of Mr. Gibbon, that I am conscious of having discharged a momentous duty to the interests of the public; and for the freedom of some parts, the seriousness of others, and the length of the whole, no vindication will be required by the considerate, and no apology will be accepted by the froward.”

Another long discussion, and the last which occurs among these copious annotations, is on the subject of future rewards and punishments, of which the substance is thus given, by the writer himself: “The result of the whole,” says he, “is this. It is a part of our present condition to be the subject of future rewards and punishments. It is a part of our present nature to be influenced, and very strongly too, by the hope of the one, and the fear of the other: but that hope and that fear, however necessary they may be to regulate, do not obstruct the proper energies of other parts of the same nature. They leave us to be actuated by the love of God and the love of our neighbour, in consequence of regards quite distinct from the peculiar objects, which they may themselves present to our minds. To the original and distinct force of these affections, they bring an additional and distinct force of their own.”

Towards the end of the year 1803, Dr. Parr published another sermon, which he had preached on the fast-day, Oct. 19, in Hatton church. The subject is patriotism, and it is divided into two parts.

The first comprises an argument vigorously conceived, ably conducted, and eloquently enforced, in reply to the mis-statement of Lord Shaftesbury on the one hand, and Soame Jenyns on the other. The former writer held it forth, as an objection to Christianity, that, professing to be a perfect code of ethics, it omits all mention of the love of country; whilst the latter considered that very omission as an excellence, and even as a proof of the divine origin of the system, because patriotism, according to him, as a principle, is founded in narrow views, and as a passion, has been the cause of more mischief and misery to the world, than any one passion of the human mind besides.

In reply to the first of these mis-statements, it is justly contended, that though not formally mentioned in the Christian code, yet patriotism must, by fair construction, be understood as included within the meaning of those precepts, which inculcate general benevolence to our species, in all their moral and all their social relations; and is further recommended and enforced by the example of its great Author. For what lawgiver, moralist or philosopher can be named, in ancient or modern times, in whom a purer or warmer spirit of patriotism breathed; or who employed himself with more ardour and activity, in reforming the religion, correcting the morals, and promoting the true interests and happiness of the country in which he was born?

Such are the arguments urged in refutation of the first of the two statements just referred to. In reply to the second, it is only necessary, says the preacher, to draw the great line of distinction, between true and false patriotism. The former is a reasonable and virtuous love of our country, an ardent attachment to its rights, its freedom and independence, accompanied and controlled by a sacred regard to the rights, the freedom and the independence of other nations. The latter is that blind, infatuated, misguided passion, which substitutes the hatred of other countries for the love of our own; and which seeks to raise the power and the fancied glory of the nation to which we belong, upon the degradation and ruin of surrounding nations. The former, as already shown, Christianity approves and enforces. But it is admitted—nay, for the honour of religion, and the happiness of the world, it is contended—that the latter makes no part of Christianity; that it is neither sanctioned by the precepts, nor ennobled by the praises, nor countenanced by the example, of its divine author; but that it is, by fair implication, disclaimed and rejected by him.

It was notoriously the false and not the true patriotism which prevailed both in the Jewish and the Heathen world: and for this reason, as it is here ingeniously conjectured, the Christian lawgiver omitted the express and formal recognition, by a direct and peremptory command, even of true patriotism, lest it should be perverted, by the rash or the crafty, to the purposes of encouraging that mad, restless, ambitious spirit, which has too long usurped its name, and which has been the fruitful source of all the aggravated and accumulated crimes and calamities, of almost all the wars, which have disturbed and desolated the world, from the earliest to the latest times. It may be added, that if the substance of the thing be there; if the duty itself be found in the Christian system, in all its most essential branches of obedience to the constituted authorities and established laws, and in zeal for the public good, the omission of the name, or of the formal definition, becomes of little consequence.

The closing part of this admirable discourse consists of a powerful and most impassioned appeal, on the state of the country at that time, threatened with all the horrors and miseries of hostile invasion; and whilst it carefully discriminates between justifiable and unjustifiable warfare, it exhorts and animates, in a fine strain of mingled piety and patriotism, to a brave and determined resistance to all the attempts of an insulting and invading foe.

The following is a sketch of false patriotism, contrasted with a portraiture of the true and the genuine:—

“No approbation is to be expected from the suffrage of the religionists, by the factious incendiary, by the rapacious adventurer, by the ruthless oppressor, or by the ambitious and tyrannous conqueror, when bedecked with titles, and laden with spoils, and reeking with blood of fellow-christians and fellow-men, he calls himself the saviour of his country. Upon the worthless, shameless, pitiless ruffian, who, plunging his weapon into the bosom of a disarmed, fallen, sup-pliant antagonist, would bring back the atrocities of savage hordes into the conflicts of Christian combatants, tarnish the annals of his country to the latest posterity, and agitate the whole civilised world with astonishment at the flagitious overt act, indignation at the dastardly excuse, and horror at the portentous example—upon the cool-headed and flinty-hearted sophist, who, from motives of groveling avarice, or rampant ambition, puts ‘evil for good and good for evil’—upon the perfidious counsellor, who would ‘fashion, rest, and bow his reading in opening or sustaining titles miscreate, the right of which suits not in native colours with the truth;’ and this too when he ‘empawns the person or the honour of his royal master, and would awake the sleeping sword of war’—upon all such wretches the religionist looks down, as the betrayers of their sovereign, the corrupters of their fellow-subjects, and the murderers of their species.

“From the loathsome and terrific forms which lurk under the glare of false patriotism, I gladly turn to the contemplation of that purer lustre in which the true love of our country is arrayed, in the eye both of God and of man. To him, then, who goeth to the battle, sincerely and seriously, in the well-applied name, and for the well understood glory of the Lord of Hosts—to him who would deliver the ‘meek and humble’ from the cruel ‘despitefulness’ of the mighty and the ‘proud’—to him who ‘snappeth asunder the spear of the destroyers, and burneth their chariots in the fire’—to such a patriot, contending in such a cause, and for such ends, even religion holds forth encouragement in the promise of ‘the life that now is, and of that which is to come.’ His merits, indeed, will be rewarded by the ardent gratitude and the rapturous admiration of the people among whom he was born, and whom he has rescued from enemies abroad, or from oppressors at home.—His name will be pronounced with reverence in the assemblies of princes, and the festivities of nations.—His feats are transmitted from generation to generation, by the testimony of faithful and impartial historians—they are holden up to wonder and to imitation, in the sublime and animated eloquence of statesmen and patriots—they are consecrated, as it were, by the calm and solemn applause of wise and virtuous sages—nay more, they are recorded in the infallible, immutable registry of heaven, where the spirits of ‘just men made perfect’ may even now be permitted to sympathise with kindred excellence; and where angels and archangels, upon such occasions as these, may not disdain to behold and approve.”

CHAPTER XXVII. A.D. 1801—1803. Offer to Dr. Parr of the living of Winterbourne—His letter to Lord Chedworth on that occasion—His recommendation of the Rev. James Eyre to his Lordship’s notice—His evidence on the question of the validity of his Lordship’s will—His request of some memorial of his Lordship’s friendship—Offer of the living of Graffham from Sir Francis Burdett—Letters on that occasion—Offer from Mr. Coke of the living of Buckingham—Large increase of income from Dr. Parr’s prebendal estates.

All the preferment, which Dr. Parr had hitherto obtained, consisted of the rectory of Waddenhoe, worth about 120l. a year, and the prebendary of St. Paul’s, at that time of only nominal value. But in 1801, he received an offer from Lord Chedworth of the living of Winterbourne, in Wiltshire, entirely without any solicitation on his part, and accompanied with the most respectful and obliging expressions, on the part of his Lordship. As that living was of no higher value than Waddenhoe, and not tenable with it, after due consideration, he thought proper to decline the generous offer. In a letter, written on this occasion, he thus gave utterance to the feelings of a grateful heart:—

“My Lord—I tell you the real sentiments of my soul, when I declare to you, that scarcely any event of my life gave me such exquisite delight, or so much honest pride, as I felt from the perusal of your Lordship’s letter. To the last moment of my existence, I shall remember your Lordship’s kindness; and in that remembrance, I shall find a pure and perpetual source of gratification to my best moral feelings, and of solace under the infirmities of approaching old age.”—Then, after stating the reasons which oblige him to decline the offered gift, he adds—“To your injunction of secresy, I shall pay a temporary, but I am quite incapable of yielding an unqualified and unlimited obedience. My gratitude, my pride, my sense of propriety and justice, will not suffer me to conceal for ever from the world, that Lord Chedworth has been pleased to consider me not unworthy of his protection; and permit me, my Lord, to own to you yet farther, that in the account, which they, who come after me, may probably be inclined to give of my pursuits as a scholar, of my principles as a religionist, and of my fortune as an ecclesiastic, I shall not only be desirous, but ambitious of having it recorded that you were my patron. Pardon me for reserving this tribute to the disinterested friendship, to the intellectual attainments, to the literary, political, and moral sympathies of a nobleman, whom I have long been accustomed to respect.”

But whilst he thus declined for himself the offered gift, at the same time, he ventured to propose, to the benevolent consideration of his noble friend, the case of a neighbouring clergyman—by whom, indeed, the intended patronage was scarcely less deserved, and by whom it was even more needed. Thus he continues:

“It is with mingled feelings of reluctance and confidence, that I venture to throw myself upon your candour, for excusing the very great and very unusual liberty, which I am about to take, in submitting to your Lordship’s consideration that which follows. I can have little doubt that your Lordship will, in the circle of your own acquaintance, find a proper object for your patronage; and nothing can be more adverse to that which I ought to do, or more remote from what I wish to do, than to interfere in any measure you mean to take, about the living of Winterbourne. You will, therefore, have the goodness to consider me, not as urging a request, but as stating a case, when I say that in my neighbourhood there is a clergyman, whose personal deserts and personal misfortunes have long interested me, in his worldly interests. He has the care of a small country school, with a tolerable house, and an annual salary of about 80l. He was educated at Oxford. He is more than fifty years old. He has for many years served two curacies, very distant from each other, for a stipend, which, with the surplice-fees, amounts nearly to 60l. a year; and in consequence of sentiments, more congenial to the true spirit of the constitution, than the miserable and merciless prejudices of the day will tolerate, he has no chance of preferment. He is a very good scholar. He is a sensible man: his principles are honest; his application to books is extensive; and his conduct quite irreproachable. He has an excellent wife and six children; and is not unlikely to have more. With an income so scanty as that for which he toils, it is utterly impossible for him to make the smallest provision for so numerous a family at his death; and with an aching heart have I known that, during the late season of distress, he has found it very difficult to procure food and raiment for the passing day. My Lord, I am doing homage to your wisdom and humanity, in that which I have just written about a beloved friend. But I once more beseech your Lordship to acquit me of all intentions to embarrass you, by solicitation; and once more, I will implore your pardon for troubling you with a statement, which neither the experience I have found of your kindness, nor the trust I can repose in your liberality, would suffer me to suppress.”

The writer is delighted to record that he was himself honoured with a place in the friendly regards of the excellent clergyman, the late Rev. James Eyre, whose case is here so feelingly described; and he is gratified to bear his testimony to the merits which are here, with so much fond affection, depicted. But the strength of understanding, the integrity of principle, the ardour in the pursuits of useful learning, and the activity in the discharge of laborious duties, ascribed in this letter to Mr. Eyre, were accompanied, it may be truly added, with fervour in a high degree of conjugal and parental affection, with a noble candour of sentiment towards those of differing opinions, and with an uncommon warmth of kind and generous feeling towards all men. Nor is it the least part of his due praise to add yet further, that, under straitened and trying circumstances, he always maintained that independence of spirit, and the dignity of deportment, which mark the gentleman, and adorn the clergyman.

It will give pleasure to the reader to be told, that the appeal so delicately and so forcibly urged, in the above letter, proved successful. Early in July, 1801, Mr. Eyre was inducted into the living of Winterbourne; and the kindness of the patron was properly and gratefully acknowledged in a letter, from which the following is an extract:—“Be assured, my Lord, that to the last hour of my life, I shall remember with joy your intended patronage of myself, and your noble protection of the man whom I recommended to your favour. He, his wife, his children, his relations, his well-wishers, and eminently among them the writer of this letter, will often recollect, and often pronounce with heartfelt satisfaction, the honoured name of Lord Chedworth.”

By this generous act of seasonable and well-directed patronage, Mr. Eyre found the path of life considerably smoothed; and yet it was still to him a rugged and difficult path. With a family of ten children, he possessed no adequate means of providing for their suitable maintenance during life, and none of making provision for their support at his death. It is deeply to be deplored that, whilst enormous revenues are assigned to the higher and the dignified clergy, of which the influence must be seriously injurious to their character as ecclesiastics; the laborious, and by far the most useful and important members of the clerical body are, in too many instances, left exposed to all the hardships of abject poverty. A more equal distribution of its ample funds would be a most wise and happy measure for the church, which the country, too, will, no doubt, imperiously demand, whenever the public attention shall once be fixed on the enormity of the evil just referred to, and on the mischievous consequences flowing from it, not to the clergy only, but to the whole Christian and civil community. So thought Dr. Parr, through all the later years of his life; and so must think every reasonable and reflecting person, who wishes well to the honour, the interest, and the permanence of the national establishment.

Early in 1813, Mr. Eyre died,1 and was soon followed to the grave by his beloved wife, and, within no long time, by several of his children. Those that survived were, with his usual ardour and activity-of benevolence, received by Dr. Parr into his protection; and were all of them furnished by him, or through his intercession, by his friends, with the means of gaining an honourable support. In his will he has bequeathed to them legacies to a considerable amount.

The late Lord Chedworth, whom from this time Dr. Parr proudly regarded as his patron and his friend, possessed very considerable powers of mind, happily cultivated by early education and subsequent study; and with these were united many of the best qualities of the heart. But his conduct was marked with so many strange peculiarities, as

1 “On Friday last, March 13, 1813, died, in his 65th year, the Rev. James Eyre, master of the free-school at Solihull. This most respectable man was equally distinguished by the solidity of his understanding and the benevolence of his heart. In his death, society has sustained a very great, and his numerous family an irreparable loss. S. P.”—Warw. Advertiser, &c.

might well create a suspicion of some unsoundness of intellect. For many years he lived in a state of entire seclusion from society, in a private house, at Ipswich; where, often labouring under extreme depression of spirits, he was cheered and relieved by the frequent visits of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Penrice—the one his legal adviser, the other his medical attendant. He always warmly acknowledged himself indebted, for much of the ease and comfort of his life, to the exertions of the former of these gentlemen, in the management and improvement of his estates; and to the skill and attention of the latter, in the care of his mental and bodily health. In return for these important services, he thought proper, at his death, to bequeath to them a large proportion of his estates, by a will, which afterwards became the subject of legal discussion, at the suit of the heir-at-law, who endeavoured to set it aside, on the plea of mental incapacity in the testator.

On an issue from the Court of Chancery, the question was tried, and the validity of the will confirmed, by the verdict of a jury, with the full concurrence of Lord Ellenborough, the judge. Subsequently, however, a new trial was moved for, before the Lord Chancellor Erskine, on the ground of an affidavit, sworn to by Dr. Parr, declaring his firm belief “that the late Lord John Chedworth, with great talents, attainments, and virtues, united an understanding, not completely sound; and that an hereditary propensity to insanity was increased by some unfortunate events of his life.” But the affidavit produced no effect; the motion for a new trial was rejected; and the validity of the will finally established. It seems, upon the whole, sufficiently clear that the noble person whose case thus became the subject of legal inquiry, was, indeed, liable to occasional aberration of mind; but that—whether to such a degree as to incapacitate for making a will?—was a question fairly left to be decided, and was, no doubt, justly decided, by the jury.

In the course of these proceedings Dr. Parr was exposed to many severe reflections, in consequence of some letters, written by himself to Lord Chedworth, and produced and read at the trial, which contained many complimentary expressions on his Lordship’s intellectual powers and literary acquirements, and which were supposed to give a direct contradiction to the statements of the affidavit. In reality, however, there was no inconsistency in the case; since it is well known that the finest minds are subject to the saddest derangements; and that mental obliquity, in one respect, is often found to be compatible with the full and vigorous exercise of the understanding in others.

Among the letters produced on this occasion, was one in which Dr. Parr expresses to Lord Chedworth his desire of possessing some memorial of his friendship; suggesting that a piece of plate, with a suitable inscription, would be such a memorial as would be most of all acceptable to him. For this letter he became, though with little reason, the object of ridicule to some, and of censure to others. It is, indeed, certain that he was delighted to receive such testimonies of the esteem and affection of his friends, and especially of his pupils; and that he was always proud to display, before the gaze of the visiters at his table, those which he possessed. Among the rest, he was accustomed to point, with peculiar pleasure, to an epergne presented by Lord Dartmouth, to a cup presented by Mr. Coke, to the very tureen now presented by Lord Chedworth, and to two salvers presented, one by Dr. Alexander, bishop of Downe, the other by Dr. Davy, head of Caius College, Cambridge. Two goblets also, held in high estimation, with Greek inscriptions, which once belonged to the very learned Dr. Taylor,1 were sure to be exhibited, with a sort of reverential respect, especially to the learned and sometimes to the unlearned guest. But if, in all this, there are those who can espy weakness; surely the foible is not such as needs excite much of sneering contempt, or much of angry reproach. The writer is not aware that these memorials of friendship were obtained by any act of degradation; unless, indeed, it must be laid down peremptorily that it is in itself, under all circumstances, a degrading act to prefer a request—even where the request, it is known, will excite no feelings but those of complacency and delight, and where the pleasure of bestowing the gift, it is certain, will at least equal the pleasure of receiving it.

On occasion of Lord Chedworth’s gift, Dr. Parr was charged with another offence—that of

1 These, from their late learned possessor have passed, by his gift, into the possession of another learned divine, Dr. Butler, of Shrewsbury.

writing an inscription laudatory of himself. But from this charge he was completely exonerated, by the statement of Mr. Eyre, which was given in a letter to the editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine. From that statement, it appears that it was once, indeed, the intention of Dr. Parr to write the inscription, which would then have been a simple expression of esteem and gratitude towards the noble donor;1 that this intention was afterwards relinquished, in consequence of the express desire of Lord Chedworth; and that the inscription, such as it now is, was written by Mr. Eyre himself, in the name, and in compliance with the request, of his Lordship, agreeably to the following directions: “I wish,” said Lord Chedworth, “the inscription to be short and simple; expressive of the reverential regard,2 which I bear to Dr. Parr, of which, it is my wish, the plate should be considered as a sort of monamentum et pignus. The qualities, which I most revere in our illustrious friend, are his great abilities, his profound learning, his genuine zeal for liberty, his devout attachment to revelation, his unassailable integrity, and especially his most active and boundless benevolence.”3

But though Dr. Parr could not avail himself of the kind intentions of Lord Chedworth, by accepting the living of Winterbourne, another proposal soon followed, from Sir Francis Burdett, which led to happier results. This was the generous offer communicated in the subjoined letter:—

1 “Condignum donum quali st qui donum dedit.”—Plaut.

2 “Condignum donum qual st cui dono datu est.”—Plaut.

3 Appendix, No. VI.

“Sir,—I am sorry it is not in my power to place you in a situation which will become you—I mean in the episcopal palace at Buckden; but I can bring you very near to it. For I have the presentation of a rectory, now vacant, within a mile and a half from it, which is very much at Dr. Parr’s service. It is the rectory of Graffham, at present worth 200l. a year; and, as I am informed, may soon be worth 270l. a year; and I this moment learn that the incumbent died last Tuesday.”—“Dr. Parr’s talents and character might well entitle him to a better patronage than this, from those, who know how to estimate his merits. But I acknowledge that a great additional motive with me to the offer I now make him is, that I believe I cannot do any thing more pleasing to his friends, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Knight; and I desire you, Sir, to consider yourself as obliged to them only. I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, &c.

Francis Burdett.”

The grateful acceptance of a gift so entirely unsolicited and unexpected, is conveyed in the following letter:—

“Vicarage House, Buckden, Sept. 26, 1802.

“Dear Sir,—After rambling in various parts of Norfolk, I went to Cambridge, and from Cambridge I yesterday came to the parsonage of my most respectable friend, Mr. Maltby, at Buckden, where I this morning had the honour of receiving your letter. Mrs. Parr opened it last Friday at Hatton; and I trust you will pardon the liberty she took in desiring your servant to convey it to me in Huntingdonshire, where she knew that I should be, as upon this day.”—“Permit me, dear Sir, to request that you would accept the warmest and most sincere thanks of my heart for this unsolicited, but most honourable expression of your good-will towards me. Nothing can be more important to my worldly interest than the service you have done me, in presenting me to the living of Graffham. Nothing can be more exquisitely gratifying to my very best feelings than the language in which you have conveyed to me this mark of your friendship. Indeed, dear Sir, you have enabled me to pass the years of declining life in comfortable and honourable independence. You have given me additional and unalterable conviction, that the firmness with which I have adhered to my principles has obtained for me the approbation of wise and good men. And when that approbation assumes, as it now does, the form of protection, I fairly confess to you, that the patronage of Sir Francis Burdett has a right to be ranked among the proudest, as well as the happiest events of my life. I trust that my future conduct will justify you in the disinterested and generous gift which you have bestowed upon me; and sure I am that my friends, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Knight, will not only share with me in my joy, but sympathise with me in those sentiments of respect and gratitude, which I shall ever feel towards Sir Francis Burdett.”—“Most assuredly I shall myself set a higher value upon your kindness, when I consider it as intended to gratify the friendly feelings of those excellent men; as well as to promote my own personal happiness.”—“I shall wait your pleasure about the presentation; and I beg leave to add, that I shall stay at Buckden for one week only, and shall have reached Hatton about this day fortnight, where I shall obey your commands. One circumstance, I am sure, will give you great satisfaction, and, therefore, I shall beg leave to state it. The living of Graffham will be of infinite value to me, because it is tenable with a rectory I now have in Northamptonshire; and happy I am, that my future residence will be fixed, and my existence closed upon that spot where Sir Francis Burdett has given me the power of spending my old age with comforts and conveniences quite equal to the extent of my fondest wishes, and far surpassing any expectations I have hitherto ventured to indulge.—I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, &c.

S. Parr.”

In November, 1802, Dr. Parr went to take possession of his new rectory; of which, writing to his friend, Mr. J. Parkes of Warwick, he gives some account in the following letter:

“Dear Sir,—I thank you for the trouble you have, with your usual kindness, taken in adjusting matters with Colonel P—; and I am sure that you were very right in not writing for my approbation or opinion—approbation, dear John, you could not fail to deserve and to obtain; and as to opinion, any I might form would have been of little value, in opposition to your own.”—“Last week I knelt before a bishop for institution; I rang a bell upon induction; I read the Morning and Evening Services, with the salutary appendages of Articles, &c. &c. Having now passed through the whole circle of ecclesiastical forms, I have acquired plenary possession of things spiritual and things temporal, as rector of Graffham. The parsonage-house will be well repaired, but not enlarged. The farm is about to be leased at an advanced rent. A farm-house must be built, with a barn, for which materials are to be removed from the parsonage, under the protection of a faculty; and a roost for hens and their amorous male protectors, with three styes for pigs, &c. &c.”—“I shall instruct my Waddenhoe flock on Sunday next; and then proceed to Northampton, on my way home, &c. Believe me, dear Sir, your sincere wellwisher and obedient servant,

S. Parr.” November 29, 1802.

But the possession of this new benefice did not induce Dr. Parr to think of leaving his favourite residence at Hatton; nor did even the offer of a still more valuable preferment, which occurred a few years afterwards. This was the living of Buckingham, which, in the summer of 1808, was tendered to his acceptance, by his kind and faithful friend, Mr. Coke, of Holkham. It is a living of much higher value than either that of Waddenhoe or Graffham; and might have been held in conjunction with one, but not both of them. The writer well recollects Dr. Parr’s making a long morning visit at Leam, for the express purpose of conversing on the subject of this new, and in many respects alluring, offer: when all the reasons which, after much deliberation, determined him to decline it, were carefully examined and weighed. These reasons were the necessity of residing in Buckingham—the ruinous state of the parsonage-house—the want of ground sufficient for rebuilding it—his growing attachment to the place where he had so long lived, and the many agreeable connexions which he had formed in its neighbourhood.

In a pecuniary point of view, indeed, further preferment was now become less necessary to Dr. Parr, as, about the year 1804, he was entitled to the full profits of the prebendal estate, to which he had been so long looking. Thus exulting in the prospect of a happy independence, during the closing years of his life, he wrote to Lord Chedworth, in a letter, dated from Cambridge, March 18, 1803:—“You will be glad, aye, my Lord, you will be very glad to hear that part of my errand to London, was to make arrangements about a prebendal estate, which, next year, will come into my possession, and which will add considerably to the comfort of my declining life. I am much harassed by business, and sorely afflicted with a cold. I am vexed at not having seen you here, during my stay. It is an awful time; but I have not abandoned all hopes of peace,” &c.

Though, at a subsequent period, the value of this prebendal estate was much increased by the sale of land, at a high price, to the Regent Canal Company, as already mentioned; yet, in consequence of allowing the tenant the large sum of 400l. a year for buildings and improvements, the whole amount was received by Dr. Parr, only during about the five or six last years of his life. By a singular regulation, in the right of granting leases, his family will continue to enjoy the benefit of this estate, though not without some deductions, owing to the neglect of certain legal forms, for twenty years after his decease.

CHAPTER XXVIII. A.D. 1800—1807. Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with Mr. Roscoe—His opinion of “The Life of Lorenzo”—and of “The Nurse,” a poem, in letters to the author—Dr. Parr’s high regard for Mr. Wakefield—His opinion of him as a scholar and a writer—Letter to one of his friends on occasion of his decease—Death of Dr. Parr’s younger daughter—His sketch of her character—Death of Mr. Wm. Parkes—Dr. Parr’s tribute to his memory—Death of Professor Porson—Biographical notice of him.

The year 1795 was distinguished in the annals of English literature, by the publication of a work of extraordinary merit; which was attended with the singular fortune of being received, on its very first appearance, not only by professed scholars, but by almost every class of readers, and by all the various, and at that time fiercely contending, parties in the nation, with one instantaneous and universal burst of admiration and applause. This was “The Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici,” by William Roscoe, Esq. of Liverpool. In this important work, the author has opened to his countrymen new and delightful sources of information on some of the most interesting subjects of history and literature; and he has enhanced, in a high degree, the value of that information, by the mild spirit of philosophy and humanity which uniformly guides his pen, by the pure sentiments of moral and politi-cal rectitude which breathe through every page, and by the correctness, the perspicuity, the elegance, and the energy of a style, which is in all respects worthy of the subject. Within two years, this admirable work passed through three quarto editions, when it was published in an octavo form; and these have since been followed by many other editions.

The attention of Dr. Parr was soon drawn to this work; and, after carefully perusing it, he addressed the following letter to the author, by whose kind permission it is here subjoined:

“Sir,—For the liberty I am going to take with a gentleman, whom I have not the honour personally to know, I have no other, and probably I could find no better apology, than the frankness, which ought to subsist between literary men upon subjects of literature.”—“Your life of Lorenzo de’ Medici had been often mentioned to me by critics, whose approbation every writer would be proud to obtain; and as the course of reading, which I pursued about thirty years ago, had made me familiar with the works of Poggius, Pico of Mirandula, Politian, and other illustrious contemporaries of Lorenzo, I eagerly seized the opportunity of borrowing your celebrated publication from a learned friend at Oxford.”—“You will pardon my zeal, Sir, and you may confide in my sincerity, when I declare to you, that the contents of your book far surpassed my expectation, and amply rewarded the attention with which I perused them.—You have thrown the clearest and fullest light upon a period most interesting to every scholar.—You have produced much that was unknown; and to that which was known, you have given perspicuity, order, and grace.—You have shown the greatest diligence in your researches, and the purest taste in your selection; and upon the characters and events which passed in review before your inquisitive and discriminating mind, you have united sagacity of observation, with correctness, elegance, and vigour of style.”—“For the credit of our national curiosity and national learning, I trust that the work will soon reach a second edition; and if this should be the case, I will, with your permission, send you a list of mistakes, which I have found in some Latin passages, and which, upon seeing them, you will certainly think worthy of consideration. Perhaps I shall proceed a little farther, in pointing out two or three expressions, which seem to me capable of improvement; and in stating my reasons for dissenting from you upon a very few facts of very little importance.”—“At all events, I shall give you proofs of the care with which I have read your admirable work; and as to the petty strictures which I may have occasion here and there to throw out, you will find an honest, and let me hope a satisfactory explanation of my meaning, in the words of Politian to Pico—‘Neque ego judicis, sed Momi personam indui, quem ferunt sandalium Veneris tandem culpasse, cum Venerem non posset.’”—“It is proper for me to add, that I do not understand Italian; but am told by a very intelligent neighbour, who is said to read it critically, and to write it elegantly, that the matter contained in that language is apposite, curious, and instructive.—I have the honour to be, &c.

S. Parr.” Hatton, Oct. 4, 1797.

“I well recollect,” says one of his own pupils, “the manner in which Dr. Parr devoured every page of Roscoe’s ‘Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici.’ After his first perusal of the book, he went through it again with me, to whom he dictated numerous critical observations and suggestions, which he enclosed in a complimentary letter to Mr. Roscoe; and which, I believe, led to a friendly intercourse between the Doctor and that gentleman.”1

These friendly criticisms were indeed received, as is here intimated, with a due sense of obligation by the candid and ingenious writer for whose use they were intended; and the intimation is also correct, that they proved the means of introducing an epistolary correspondence, followed by several personal interviews; of which Dr. Parr always spoke with high and rapturous delight. From a second letter, which passed on this occasion, the following are some extracts:

“I am determined to lose no time in acknowledging my good fortune upon the acquisition of a correspondent, whose candour is worthy of his talents, and whose letters are fraught with all the elegance and all the vigour which decorate his publication.”—“I rejoice, Sir, not so much upon your account, as upon that of your readers, to whom you have opened so large and so delightful a field of entertainment and instruction, when you tell me

1 New Monthly Mag. July, 1826.

that the life of Lorenzo has already gone through three editions, and that it will soon appear in an octavo form. The edition open before me is that of 1796. I borrowed it from the learned librarian of New College, Oxford; and I shall return it next week, because it belongs to a society, where you will have many readers very capable of appreciating your merit, and well disposed to acknowledge and to proclaim it.”—“By what the ancients would have called the afflatus divinus, I anticipated your willingness to let me speak with freedom; and your letter justifies me in ascribing to you that candour, which is the sure criterion and happy effect of conscious and eminent worth. Indeed, Sir, I saw in your work vestiges of excellence, which, in my estimation, is of a much higher order than taste and learning. I found deep reflection; and, therefore, I expected to find a dignified and virtuous moderation in the science of politics. I met with sentiments of morality, too pure to be suspected of hypocrisy, too just and elevated to be charged with ostentation; and give me leave to add, that they acted most powerfully on the best sympathies of my soul. If, in this season of old corruptions and new refinements, a Fenelon were to rise up among us; and, if by a conversion in the understandings and hearts of sovereigns, not less miraculous than that recorded of Paul, he were appointed to train up the heir of a throne to solid wisdom and sublime virtue, sure I am that he would eagerly put your book into the hands of his pupil, and bid him— Noctuma versare manu, versare diurna.— I am no stranger to the sweets of literary and social intercourse between kindred spirits; and, therefore, I wonder not that you call Dr. Currie your friend. Present my best compliments to him; and believe me, with just and sincere respect, dear Sir, your very faithful and obedient servant,

S. Parr.” Hatton, Dec. 17, 1797.

In the year 1798 appeared another work by the same author, entitled “The Nurse; a poem, translated from the Italian of Luigi Tansillo.” According to the short account prefixed to the poem, Tansillo was a native of Nola, in the kingdom of Naples; and “was one of the brightest wits in that constellation of genius, which appeared in Italy in the 16th century; and which yet diffuses a permanent light over the horizon of literature.” The object of his poem is to inculcate on mothers the discharge of their natural duty towards their infant offspring; and to reprobate the custom of transferring that duty to others. As the subject is thus highly interesting in itself, “so is it treated in a manner peculiarly pointed and direct; yet without violating the decorum which is due to the public at large, and in particular to the sex to whom it is addressed.” A copy of this work, presented by the author, was read by Dr. Parr with eager delight; and the kindness of the giver, and the pleasure which his work afforded, were gratefully acknowledged in a letter, from which the following is an extract:

“Dear Sir,—You and I have read and rejected many a grave definition of man; and if the failure of others were not sufficient to deter us from attempts to define, we should hardly, on such a question, observe the three laws which logicians produce, as indispensably necessary to a just definition. But we can describe what is prominent, or even peculiar, in species and in individuals; and can you, after all your variety of research, and with all your fertility of conception, point out a more proper term for man than a procrastinating animal? Such is man—and such have I been. Mr. C—— left your book at Birmingham, while I was rambling about Wales. In the beginning of October I received it, at Birmingham. I brought it to Hatton. I read it twice—I liked it exceedingly—I determined, again and again, to write to you—I have been busy—I have been vexed—I have been idle—I have remembered, and remembered my resolution again and again; and again and again I have neglected to execute it. Your kind letter, and even the sight of your hand-writing, have roused me from my delirium. Tansillo interested me even by his subject. The short but pithy life you have prefixed, sent me to the book with yet stronger emotions. I read, and was delighted with his tenderness, his just indignation, his deep observation upon character, his earnest and most expressive expostulations. A mother I am not; and yet if I were, and had sinned against his laws, such a monitor would have awakened me to repentance. I am a man and a father, and a diligent and anxious observer of what passes in the earlier stages of what you and I consider education, &c. &c.

S. Parr.” Jan. 25, 1799.

But, whilst cultivating the new and the valuable acquaintance, which afterwards proved to him the source of so much high satisfaction, nearly about the same time, Dr. Parr’s attention was painfully drawn to the cruel wrongs, followed by the premature death of a friend, whose learning he respected—whose talents he honoured—whose virtues he admired—and whose misfortunes he deeply deplored.1 This was the Rev. Gilbert Wakefield, eminently distinguished as a scholar and a writer; and as a man, yet more eminently distinguished for moral rectitude, which no earthly hope or fear could move from its even course—for benevolent ardour, which no perverse opposition, or ungrateful returns to himself, could check in its pursuit of good to others—and for generous love of country, which seemed to regard all personal considerations as nothing, and even “the threats of pain and ruin to despise,” in supporting the sacred cause of its rights and liberties.

Mr. Wakefield was one of those persons who fell a victim to the barbarous persecution, which ministerial vengeance brought down upon so many innocent, but obnoxious individuals, during the period of the French Revolution; and which will for ever fix a deep and indelible stain on the Pitt-administration, even if it had been far more glorious, than its zealous partisans have represented it. For a few unguarded expressions, in one of his political publications, he was consigned to the common jail

1 “Wakefield. Silva Critica. The gift of the learned, pious, and injured author. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 330.

of Dorchester, and there he was detained for the space of two years, in rigorous confinement. Set free, at the end of that period, he had scarcely escaped the “harpy claws” of power, when he was seized with a fever, the consequence of overexertion after long restraint; and within two weeks from the first day of his illness, and fourteen from the time of his liberation, he died, Sept. 9, 1801, in the forty-sixth year of his age.

Of all his friends and admirers, and he had many, there were few who loved and admired him more than Dr. Parr; and the present writer, in the habit of visiting both, was often employed to convey messages of kind inquiry, and invitations of friendly hospitality, from one to the other. But though Mr. Wakefield greatly respected Dr. Parr, yet from the impulse of his own stern and unyielding integrity, which led him to judge severely of others, he could not help sometimes expressing, in strong terms, his disapprobation of Dr. Parr’s insincerity and inconsistency, as he did not scruple to term them, in disguising so much his sentiments on important subjects, and in refusing to act publicly in support of principles, which, in private, he was known to approve. These censures, however, were pointed against him more as a theologian and an ecclesiastic, than as a politician; and if in any degree deserved in the earlier periods, they were far less so in the later years of his life; when, it is certain, he threw around his opinions much less disguise, and when few opportunities of openly avowing and maintaining them occurred, which he did not embrace.

If, on his part, Dr. Parr occasionally adverted to those defects in Mr. Wakefield, which cast a shade over the splendour of a good and a great name, it was always with tenderness and delicacy. Sometimes he lamented, and sometimes blamed, but much oftener candidly excused, that irritability of temper, which appeared so offensively in the publications of Mr. Wakefield, though not at all in his conversation or manners. It is neither necessary nor possible to justify the severe censures, the acrimonious invectives, the rude personalities, which may be found in his controversial writings, and even in those on subjects of philology and classical literature. But the example of other critics of great fame—the warmth of his own temper—the unmerited provocations which he received—the haste with which he wrote and published, and which precluded the possibility of corrections or obliterations, such as more sober reflection might have dictated; all these considerations were often forcibly urged by Dr. Parr in extenuation of faults, which certainly detract something from the excellence of Mr. Wakefield’s writings, important and valuable as they are.

Of his style in Latin composition, Dr. Parr formed no very favourable judgment; and of his conjectural emendations, he did not in general approve. He thought that Mr. Wakefield wanted the time and the patience necessary to that discrimination, which would have made his conjectures fewer, indeed, but more probable; and his principles, in forming and elucidating them more exact. He fully acknowledged, however, the success, and highly commended the judgment, with which he applied his philological learning to the elucidation of the Scriptures; and in speaking of the imperfections which appeared in Mr. Wakefield’s writings, he never attempted to depreciate their real merits. “Many,” said he,1 writing to a friend, “who, like myself, discern his imperfections, are far below Mr. Wakefield, not only in industry, but in acuteness; not only in extent, but, perhaps, in accuracy of knowledge; not only in the contributions which they have made, or endeavoured to make, to our general stock of knowledge, but in their capacity to make them so largely or so successfully.”2

On receiving intelligence of Mr. Wakefield’s death, communicated by a common friend,3 Dr. Parr addressed to that friend a letter in reply; from which the following are extracts:

“Sir,—I was yesterday evening honoured with your letter; I read the contents of it with inexpressible anguish; I passed a comfortless night, and this morning I am scarcely able to thank you as I ought to do, for your delicacy in averting the shock, which I must have suffered, if intelligence so unexpected and so distressing had rushed upon me from the newspapers.”—“In the happiness of the late Mr. Wakefield, I always took a lively interest: many are the inquiries I made about the

1 Life of Wakefield, vol. ii. p. 449.

2 “Lucretii Opera à Wakefield. 3 vols. 4to. The gift of the very learned editor. S. P.”—“Wakefield’s Remarks on Horsley’s Ordination Sermon. Pungent. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 185. 689.

3 Life of Wakefield, vol. ii. p. 221.

state of his health, and the course of his studies, while he was at Dorchester: great was my anxiety to see him after his sufferings were at an end; and when his name was announced to me at my lodgings in Carey Street, I seized his hand eagerly; I gazed steadfastly upon his countenance; I was charmed with the freshness of his spirits, and the apparent stoutness of his constitution; I anticipated for him a succession of years after years, during which he might have smiled at the malice of his enemies, and enjoyed the sympathies of his friends; and, at parting, I received from him a book, which the circumstance of captivity under which it was written endeared to me, and which his death has now consecrated.”1—“To the learning of that excellent person, my understanding is indebted for much valuable information;2 but my heart acknowledges yet higher obligations to his virtuous example. I loved him unfeignedly; and though our opinions on various subjects, both in criticism and theology, were different, that difference never disturbed our quiet, nor relaxed our mutual good-will.”—“In diligence, doubtless, he far surpassed any scholar, with whom it is my lot to have been personally acquainted; and though his writings now

1 “Noctes Carcerariæ. The last gift of the beloved and much respected author. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 634.

2 When the name of Wakefield occurs to us, who does not heave a momentary sigh, and, catching the spirit with which Jortin once alluded to the productions of learned and ingenious dissenters, repeat the emphatical quotation of that most accomplished and amiable scholar—“Qui tales sunt, utinam essent nostri?”— Review of the Variorum Horace, British Critic, vol. iii. p. 123.

and then carry with them some marks of extreme irritability, he was adorned, or, I should rather say, he was distinguished, by one excellence, which every wise man will admire, and every good man will wish at least to emulate. That excellence was, in truth, a very rare one; for it existed in the complete exemption of his soul from all the secret throbs, all the perfidious machinations, and all the mischievous meanness of envy.”—“For my part, sir, I shall ever think and ever speak of Mr. Wakefield, as a very profound scholar, as a most honest man, and as a Christian, who united knowledge with zeal, piety with benevolence, and the simplicity of a child with the fortitude of a martyr.”—“Under the deep and solemn impressions which his recent death has made upon my mind, I cannot but derive consolation from that lesson, which has been taught me by one of the wisest among the sons of men. ‘The souls of the righteous are in the hands of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise, they seem to die, and their departure is taken for misery—but they are in peace.’ I am, &c.

S. P.”

In no long time after the death of “the beloved and much respected friend,” whose loss he deplored so feelingly in the above letter, Dr. Parr had to lament that of several other of his friends; among which number were, in his own neighbourhood, Lord Dormer, and the Rev. Mr. Gaches; and, at a distance, the Rev. Thomas Twining,1

1 “Mr. Twining of Colchester του Άττικωτατον.” Spital Serm. p. 109.

whose friendship he had fondly cherished from an early period of life; and more distantly still, the celebrated Dr. Priestley, whose friendly regards, though of later date, he cultivated with almost equal reverence and affection. The former died at Colchester, in the summer of 1804; and the latter, somewhat earlier in the same year, at Philadelphia, after an exile from his native shores of about ten years.

But the hand of death, which was thus striking down his friends around, was soon destined to reach nearer to himself; and towards the end of 1805, Dr. Parr was deprived, by that dreadful distemper, a lingering consumption, of the younger of his two daughters, Catherine Jane Parr, who was then in her 24th year. She had been, for some time, removed from Warwickshire, to try the benefit of milder air, at Teignmouth on the Devonshire coast. But the change came too late; and, as her father expressed himself in a letter to a friend, “Many, aye, many a time have I reproached myself, for not acting vigorously, according to my own conviction, in sending my daughter sooner to a more favourable climate, though in opposition to the judgment of a most sagacious and truly affectionate mother.”

The death of this excellent young lady was calm and peaceful. What seldom happens, in such cases, she was fully aware of her own situation; and gave several particular directions about her own funeral. The lingering hours of closing life were much soothed by reading “Rogers’ Pleasures of the Memory;” over which she hung with delighted attention. She retained her faculties to the last; and marked the gradual approach of death with evident complacency. On the morning of her decease, after having washed, and composed her dress, with more than ordinary care, as if preparing for some great event, she desired her pillow to be moved, so as to admit of her taking a view of the sea, when, having looked on its vast expanse for a moment or two, she expired.

Inferior in powers of intellect to her elder sister, Catherine possessed, in a higher degree, the attractive graces of kind and amiable disposition, and of bland and obliging manners. She had much of the gay sprightliness of wit, but none of its satirical poignancy. She was her father’s favourite, and in losing her, he was for a time inconsolable. Thus, in a letter dated Teignmouth, Nov. 23, 1805, addressed to his excellent friend Mrs. Bellamy, now Mrs. Edwards, he communicates the sad intelligence:—

“Dear Madam,—I reached Teignmouth on Wednesday afternoon, and found my beloved child so ill, as to be incapable of being removed, as she and I wished, so as to breathe her last amidst the soothing and affectionate attentions of her friends at Hatton. Poor Sarah arrived this morning about two; but too late to see her dear sister alive; for yesterday, at a quarter before two, my Catherine expired in the presence of her mother and myself. I believe that a more virtuous soul never appeared in the presence of God. I hope to meet her, where this painful separation will no more be felt. Oh! Mrs. Bellamy, this is the sharpest affliction I ever experienced. But of this no more.—Her parents and sister will follow the lifeless corpse by short stages, from this place to Hatton, where it will rest in the library, according to my dear child’s desire, till the time of interment. The funeral will be on Monday fortnight; and as my beloved Catherine was so often indebted to your kindness at Hazely-House, I desire that you and Mr. Bellamy will attend as mourners.—I am, your much afflicted, but sincere wellwisher,

S. Parr.”

According to the intention, expressed in the above letter, the remains were conveyed from Teignmouth to Hatton; and deposited, with a kind of state, in the library, where they were kept till it was no longer safe. There they were visited by the afflicted mother, at stated hours every day; who always went alone, and remaining long, especially before retiring to rest at night. The disconsolate father, too, often resorted to the same mournful scene, and at every visit spent some time in prayer, kneeling down near the coffin: nor could he, without difficulty, be torn away from the sad spectacle, when at length necessity required it.1 After the last rites of hu-

1 Much as it may surprise the reader, especially if little informed of the singularities which marked, in many instances, the mind and conduct of Dr. Parr—it was, no doubt, the warmth of parental affection which dictated the wish, and its constancy which, after the lapse of so many years, gave to that wish the form of the following extraordinary directions—found with many others of a similar kind, amongst his own written orders for his own funeral! “I lay particular stress upon the following directions: My hands must be bound by the crape hatband which I wore at the burial of my daughter Catherine. Upon my breast must be placed a piece of flannel, which

manity and religion had been, with due solemnity, performed, he thus gave expression, in the Obituary of the Gentleman’s Magazine,1 to the feelings of parental love and grief:—

“At East Teignmouth, Devon, in her 24th year, died, after a long and painful illness, which she bore with exemplary patience and resignation, and the last hours of which she hallowed by an act of duty to her father, Catherine Jane, second and youngest daughter of the Rev. Dr. Parr. She was distinguished by playfulness of wit, and sweetness of disposition, by purity of mind and goodness of heart, by affection to her parents and reverence of her God. Her venerable father, whose attainments are exceeded only by the strength of his understanding, and the warmth of his heart, will long and deeply feel and lament her loss. It leaves a void in his enjoyments, which no other being can fully supply. Her afflicted mother, of whom she was the constant and beloved companion, and round the fibres of whose heart she was closely entwined, weeps, like Rachel, for her child, and ‘refuses to be comforted because she is not.’ Her sorrowing sister clings to the remembrance of her with the fondest affection; and her surviving friends, to whom she was deservedly endeared, can never call to mind her various virtues without the mournful tribute of a sigh.”

Catherine wore at her dying moments at Teignmouth; and there must be a lock of Catherine’s hair, in silk and paper, with her name, laid on my bosom, as carefully as possible, and covered and fastened with a piece of black silk.”

1 Gent. Mag. Dec. 1805.

This affecting memorial, consecrated to a beloved daughter, was, within a short time, followed by another tribute, which Dr. Parr was called upon “in the discharge of a last and a pious duty,” as he himself expresses it, to pay to the memory of a much esteemed friend. This was the late Mr. W. Parkes, of the Marble Yard, Warwick; one of the most intelligent, upright, agreeable, and benevolent of men, who died amidst the sorrowful regrets, not of his afflicted friends only, but of the whole surrounding neighbourhood, July 13th, 1806. Though not a member of the same church with himself—yet utterly and nobly regardless of every other except the great and essential distinction of mental and moral worth, as Dr. Parr ever was—thus he portrays the pleasing picture of departed excellence, as it appeared in private life:—

“This excellent man discharged all the various and sacred duties of domestic life, with the most irreproachable exactness and amiable tenderness. He was intelligent, punctual, and diligent, in conducting the numerous and important concerns of a very extensive business; and unwearied in his endeavours to relieve the indigent, and to protect the oppressed. The activity of his benevolence was unrestrained by any narrow and invidious distinctions of sect or party. His equanimity was alike undisturbed by adverse and prosperous fortune. His patriotism was firm and temperate, and his piety was rational and sincere. By constancy in his friendships, by placability in his resentments, by the ingenuous openness of his temper, by the manly independence of his spirit, and by the general conformity of his moral habits to his religious principles, he obtained, and deserved to obtain, the esteem of his neighbours, the confidence of his employers, and the unalterable regard of an enlightened and respectable acquaintance. The memory of such a person will ever be dear, and his example instructive, to the poor who shared his bounty, and to every class of men that had opportunities for contemplating his virtues. For the space of twelve months he laboured under a lingering and complicated malady, of which neither the causes could be ascertained, nor the effects resisted, by the most skilful physicians, both in the capital and in the neighbourhood. But he supported, with unshaken fortitude, the pains of disease and the languor of decay; and with the unfeigned resignation of a Christian, he looked forward to death, as the passage appointed by Heaven, to a glorious immortality.”

In the course of the year 1807, the wide circle of his friends, among whom pre-eminently stood Dr. Parr, and the whole world of letters, were alarmed by reports of the declining health of the celebrated Greek Professor of Cambridge, Richard Porson. He was one of the most extraordinary men of his time; in talents, surpassed by few; in learning, and especially in Greek learning, certainly not excelled, and scarcely even equalled by any, not only of his own age, but of all former ages. He had been long subject to spasmodic asthma; and this painful disorder, increasing in the frequency of its recurrence, and the virulence of its attack, reduced him, towards the end of the year just mentioned, to a state of so much debility, as to threaten fatal consequences. He afterwards, however, recovered in some degree, though unfavourable appearances soon returned; and, in the autumn of the following year, after suffering much, under the effects of an intermittent fever, he was seized with apoplexy. He languished for some days; and gradually sinking, on Sept. 28, 1808, in his forty-ninth year, he expired.

He was undoubtedly one of those intellectual prodigies, which now and then appear to astonish, to delight, and to instruct mankind. With powers of memory1 almost miraculous, he united acute penetration, clear discernment, and correct judgment. His learning was enlivened by brilliancy of wit and humour; and his mental excellences were adorned by the noblest moral qualities. His piety was sincere; his integrity was inflexible; and more ardour of benevolence glowed in his heart than was generally apparent to others. So sacred with him were the rights of conscience, so extended his views of religious liberty,2 that he not only tolerated, but honoured and applauded differing Christians, and even opposing unbelievers, if they were sincere and virtuous. He resigned his fellowship, and closed against himself the prospect

1 He once told a friend of Dr. Parr, Mrs. Edwards, whose name has so often occurred in these pages, “that his memory was a source of misery to him, as he could never forget any thing, even what he wished not to remember.”

2 “Pillars of Priestcraft and Orthodoxy shaken, by Richard Baron, 4 vols. A favourite work of Professor Porson. S. P. “Gordon’s Cordial for Low Spirits, 3 vols. A favourite work of Porson’s. S. P.” Bibl. Parr. pp. 86. 520.

of rising in the church, rather than conform to the prevailing but most immoral practice of signing articles of faith, which are not believed. Alas! on the phasis of this brilliant sun, some spots were visible! There was so much coldness in his manner, as might seem to import the absence of all kindly feelings; and such occasionally were the caprices of his temper, that none could, with any sagacity, explain, and few could, with any patience, endure them. His worst fault, which it is well known was inebriety, has however been usually, and no doubt justly ascribed to his inability to sleep; a misfortune under which he laboured even from his childhood. But whatever may have been his errors or infirmities, they are lost in the blaze of intellectual and moral splendour which surrounded his character, and which will for ever claim for him the reverence, the admiration, and the gratitude of mankind.

Though the opportunities of personal intercourse did not very frequent occur, yet Dr. Parr always delighted in the society of Mr. Porson, and always spoke of him, as the first of scholars, and one of the greatest of men. In the list of learned academics, he is mentioned as του πάνυ θαυμαστου; and his qualifications and his services as Greek Professor of Cambridge, are thus described: “Mr. Porson, the Greek Professor, has not read more than one lecture, but that one was πίοαχος εξ ιερης ολίγη λιβάς. He has written, however, books of utility, far more extensive than lectures could be; and I speak from my own actual observation, when I state, that the Greek plays, edited by this won-derful man, have turned the attention of several academics towards philological learning; which, it must be confessed, has few and feeble attractions to the eagerness of curiosity, or the sprightliness of youth.”

As a scholar, a critic, a man of high talent, the character of Mr. Porson is sketched with a strong and a bold hand, in the following passage:

“Mr. Porson is a giant in literature, a prodigy in intellect, a critic, whose mighty achievements leave imitation panting at a distance behind him, and whose stupendous powers strike down all the restless and aspiring suggestions of rivalry into silent admiration and passive awe. He that excels in great things, so as not to be himself excelled, shall readily have pardon from me, if he errs in little matters adapted to little minds. But I should expect to see the indignant shades of Bentley, Hemsterhuis, and Valckenaer, rise from the grave, and rescue their illustrious successor from the grasp of his persecutors, if any attempt were made to immolate him on the altars of dulness and avarice, for his sins of omission, or his sins of commission as a corrector of the press. Enough, and more than enough, have I heard of his little oversights in the hum of those busy inspectors who peep and pry after one class of defects only, in the prattle of finical collectors, and the cavils of unlearned, and half-learned gossips. But I know that spots of this kind are lost in the blaze of this great man’s excellencies. I know that his character towers far above the reach of such puny objectors. I think that his claims to public veneration are too vast to be measured by their short and crooked rules, too massy to be lifted by their feeble efforts, and even too sacred to be touched by their unhallowed hands.”1

One of Mr. Porson’s most remarkable publications, “Letters to Archdeacon Travis,” is thus praised by Mr. Gibbon: “I consider it as the most acute and accurate piece of criticism, which has appeared since the days of Bentley. Mr. Porson’s strictures are founded in argument, enriched with learning, and enlivened with wit; and his adversary neither deserves nor finds any quarter at his hand.” The same work Dr. Parr thus characterises: “Inimitable and invincible;”2 and speaking of the publication to which it was an answer, he adds: “Travis was a superficial and arrogant declaimer; and his letters to Gibbon brought down upon him the just and heavy displeasure of an assailant equally irresistible for his wit, his reasoning, and his erudition—I mean the immortal Richard Porson.”3

1 Reply to Combe. 2 Bibl. Parr. p. 689. 3 Ibid. p. 601.

END OF VOL. I. PRINTED by A. J. VALPY, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.

MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE, WRITINGS, AND OPINIONS OF THE REV. SAMUEL PARR, LL.D.; WITH BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF MANY OF HIS FRIENDS, PUPILS, AND CONTEMPORARIES. BY THE REV. WILLIAM FIELD. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. Όστις δε ουκ έπαινει και υπερθαυμάξει τον ανηρα, δοκει μοι μεγα οτοιουτος έννοειν ουδέν. Ælian. Var. Hist.. LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1828. PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET. CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER I. A.D. 1800—1807. Dr. Parr’s deep interest in political events—Elevation of Buonaparte—Pacific overture from France—Union of Great Britain and Ireland—Mr. Pitt’s resignation—Peace of Amiens—War renewed—Mr. Pitt’s death—Mr. Fox, secretary of state—Notice of his short administration—His death—His funeral attended by Dr. Parr Page 1 CHAPTER II. A.D. 1807—1810. Dr. Parr’s letter to Mr. Roscoe on peace—Abolition of the slave-trade—Dismissal of the Whig ministers—Dr. Parr’s encomium upon them—His portraiture of himself—The Catholic question—Dr. Parr’s censure on the Copenhagen expedition—His thoughts on Spanish affairs—Death of Sir John Moore—Dr. Parr’s inscription to his memory—Royal jubilee—Imprisonment of Sir Francis Burdett—The right of imprisonment, asserted by the Commons, denied by Dr. Parr 14 CHAPTER III. A.D. 1809. Publication of “Characters of Mr. Fox”—A character written in Latin by Dr. Parr—Other characters selected from newspapers—from magazines, sermons, &c.—A character written by Dr. Parr in English—Notes—Disquisition on the state of the penal laws—Remarks on Mr. Fox’s historical work—Reprint of four scarce tracts 34 CHAPTER IV. A.D. 1809—1812. Dr. Parr’s attention to the administration of justice—His compassionate concern for criminals—His forbearance to prosecute—His exertions to mitigate severity of punishment—His visits to Warwick gaol—His attendance on the condemned—His care to provide for the defence of the accused—Case of a clergyman tried for murder—Of another clergyman capitally accused—Case of a youthful pilferer, stated in a letter to Mr. Roscoe 54 CHAPTER V. A.D. 1810—1813. Death of Mrs. Parr—Her character—Marriage of Miss Parr—Her family—Her death—Her character—Dr. Parr’s letter to Mr. Roscoe on the occasion—His disunion with his son-in-law—Their reconciliation—A second separation—Dr. Parr’s letters to his grand-daughters 68 CHAPTER VI. A.D. 1811—1815. Death of Dr. Raine—His character—Monumental inscription for him—Dr. Parr’s opinion of the public schools—Death of Dr. White—His literary labours—His celebrated Bampton Lectures—Death of Mr. Dealtry—His character—Death of the Duke of Norfolk—His political character—Death of Mr. W. Lunn—Dr. Parr’s address to the public in behalf of his family 78 CHAPTER VII. A.D. 1812—1815. Public affairs—Death of Mr. Perceval—Liberal overtures to the Whigs—Liverpool administration—Fall of Buonaparte—Dr. Parr’s opinion of the Vienna manifesto—and the Holy Alliance—His notice of parliamentary proceedings—Catholic question—Property tax—Unitarian toleration act 92 CHAPTER VIII. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s second marriage—His happy old age—Reconciliation with his grand-daughters—His ample income—His domestic habits—His studious mornings—His epistolary correspondence—His handwriting—His amusements—His social parties 104 CHAPTER IX. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s conversations—His gaiety and affability of manner—His powers of wit—Encouragement of modest merit—Kind consideration for inferior intellect—His colloquial harangues—His contempt of assuming ignorance—Horror of profane ridicule—Dislike of punning—Occasional severity of censure 118 CHAPTER X. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s friends in his later years—Mr. Chandos Leigh—Mr. Webb—Dr. Maltby—Dr. Butler—Mr. R. Kennedy— Mr. Corrie—Mr. Bartlam—Mr. Coke—Mr. Roscoe—Duke of Sussex—Dukes of Bedford, Norfolk, and Leinster—Lord Holland—Lord John Russell—Mr. Rogers, &c. &c. &c.—Dr. Parr’s admiration of female excellence in Mrs. Sheridan—Mrs. Opie—Mrs. Dealtry, &c. 138 CHAPTER XI. A.D. 1816—1820. Comparative view of the three learned professions—Dr. Parr’s preference of the medical profession—His opinion of the ancient physicians—Hippocrates, Celsus, Galen, &c.—His opinion of the modern physicians—Browne, Sydenham, Boerhaave, &c.—His medical friends—Dr. Percival, Dr. Arnold, Dr. James Johnstone, &c.—His opinion of the legal profession—His friendly intercourse with many of its distinguished members—Jones, Erskine, Romilly, &c.—His opinion of some of the church-dignitaries—His friends at Cambridge—at Oxford 166 CHAPTER XII. A.D. 1816—1820. Public events—Effects of the victory of Waterloo on the temper of the English government—Large military establishments maintained—Continuance of the war-tax threatened—County-meetings at Warwick on the subject—Letter from Dr. Parr to the Lord Mayor of London—Continued suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act—County-meeting on the subject at Warwick—Ministerial attempts against the liberty of the press—Manchester massacre—Prosecution of Mr. Hone—Dr. Parr’s intercourse with him—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of Major Cartwright—Sir Francis Burdett’s visit with Dr. Parr at Leam 189 CHAPTER XIII. A.D. 1816-1820. Death of Bishop Watson—His autobiography—His plans of ecclesiastical reform—Approved by Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Sheridan—Dr. Parr’s opinion of his biographer—Their interview at Hatton—Death of the Princess Charlotte—Dr. Parr’s funeral discourse on the occasion—Death of Dr. Combe—His character—Biographical notice of Dr. Burney—His epitaph written by Dr. Parr—Death of Sir S. Romilly—Dr. Parr’s intimacy with him—Death of Sir P. Francis—Dr. Parr’s opinion respecting the authorship of Junius’ Letters 205 CHAPTER XIV. A.D. 1819. Northern tour—Dr. Parr at the Lakes—His visit to Mrs. Watson—Mr. Curwen—Mr. Brougham—Sir J. Graham—Dr. Parr at Glasgow—His interview with Mr. Kinman, Mr. Graham, &c.—His visit at Balloch Castle—His opinion of Professor Young—Professor Milne—Mr. Pillans, &c.—His visit to Bishop Gleig—Dr. Parr at Edinburgh—His friendly intercourse with Professor Stewart—His preference of the Hartleyan to the Scotch philosophy—His opinion of Professors Brown, Dalzel, &c.—His interviews with Mr. Jeffrey, Mr. Fletcher, &c.—His opinion of Sir Walter Scott—Dr. Parr’s return home—Visit to Sir C. Monck, Archbishop of York, &c. 226 CHAPTER XV. A.D. 1820—1821. Story of Queen Caroline—Dr. Parr’s introduction to her, when Princess of Wales—Her travels abroad—Her reputation assailed by calumnious reports—Their effect on the public mind in England—Dr. Parr’s protest against the exclusion of her name from the Liturgy—Affair of St. Omer—The Queen’s arrival in London—Her cause espoused by the nation Dr. Parr admitted to her presence and councils—Her answers to the addresses of the people—Her trial—and acquittal—Dr. Parr’s estimate of her character—Mr. Canning’s testimony in her favour—Her sufferings—and death—Dr. Parr’s reflections on the outrages at her funeral 245 CHAPTER XVI. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with Dr. Rees—and Dr. Lindsay—His occasional attendance on divine service in dissenting chapels—His opinion of the Rev. Robert Hall—His letters to the Rev. Charles Berry—Biographical notice of the Rev. Peter Emans—Dr. Parr’s kind feelings towards those of different sects—His encomium on Dr. Lindsay—His letter to Dr. Rees 266 CHAPTER XVII. A.D. 1820—1824. Death of Bishop Bennet—Character of him by Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Bartlam—Anecdote of him—Death of Mr. R. P. Knight—Notice of Dr. Symmons—His “Life of Milton”—Dr. Parr’s acquaintance with Mr. Hollis—Vindication of Sir Walter Raleigh from the charge of infidelity—Notice of General Cockburn—Mr. U. Price—Sir J. Aubrey—Professor Bekker—Mr. Hermann—Dr. Griffiths—Mr. Nichols—Dr. Parr’s letter on the subject of King Richard’s Well 288 CHAPTER XVIII. A.D. 1820—1824. Dr. Parr as a village-pastor—His attention to the repair and improvement of his church—Its beautiful painted window destroyed by a hurricane—replaced by a second window—Additional painted windows—Dr. Parr’s love of bells—A new peal put up in his church—Letters on the subject to Mr. Roscoe, and Mr. Postle—The body of the church rebuilt—Dr. Parr’s careful management of the charities belonging to his parish—His attention to the temporal as well as spiritual welfare of his parishioners—May-day at Hatton 308 CHAPTER XIX. A.D. 1820—1824. Dr. Parr as a parish priest—His care to perform all the offices of the church—His manner of reading the Liturgy—His mode of commenting on the Scriptures—His critical remarks inserted in the margin of the Hatton Prayer-Book—His manner of preaching—The subject-matter of his discourses—His opinion of the evangelical party—His religious instruction of the young—His support of popular education 325 CHAPTER XX. A.D. 1820—1825. Dr. Parr’s first dangerous illness—His recovery—Celebration of his seventy-third birth-day—His closing years—His last illness—His composure of mind—His piety—His benevolence as displayed in his last hours—His death—His funeral—His monumental inscription written by himself 342 CHAPTER XXI. Review of Dr. Parr’s character—His person—His intellectual powers—His learning—His Latin epitaphs—His English composition—His theological, metaphysical, ethical studies—His attachment to his church—His religious sentiments—His spirit of candour—His character as a member of the state—His domestic character 355 CHAPTER XXII. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished scholars of Stanmore School—Julius—Gerrald—Pollard—Maurice—Beloe—N. H. and M. Alexander—W. C. and H. Legge—C. and J. Graham—Madan, &c. &c. 392 CHAPTER XXIII. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished scholars of Norwich School—Headley—Tweddell—Dealtry—Monro—C. J. Chapman—Maltby—Howes—Goddard—B. Chapman—Trafford Southwell—Sutcliffe, &c. 413 CHAPTER XXIV. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished of Dr. Parr’s pupils at Hatton—Thomas Sheridan—Smitheman—Bartlam—Lord Tamworth—Wilder—Lord Foley—George A. Legge—P. and W. Gell—Dr. Davy, &c. 427 CHAPTER XXV. Various characters written by Dr. Parr—Hooker—Meric Casaubon—Bentley—Edwards—Helvetius—Mandeville and Rousseau—Three furred manslayers—Jortin—Leland—Homer—Lunn 438 APPENDICES. Pedigree—Latin epitaphs—English epitaphs—Inscription on the monument of Rev. Robert Parr—Letter—Inscription on a piece of plate—Letter of Mrs. Wynne—Tribute of respect to the memory of Dr. Parr 459

MEMOIRS OF DR. SAMUEL PARR.

The detail of public events, with which so many pages of these volumes are filled, may seem to be out of place in the memoirs of a private life. But it should be considered that Dr. Parr was in reality a public man: and from his intimate connexion with all the great leading men of his own party, and his habit of freely conversing with those of other parties, it is scarcely to be doubted that his opinions must have produced, on some occasions, at least, an influence, though secret, yet not inconsiderable, on the state and progress of national affairs. It is certain, however, that a large portion of his retired hours was occupied in reflecting upon past and present occurrences, both at home and abroad, following them into their probable consequences, whether near or remote, and communicating the result of his deep and anxious meditations to others, in the course of an extensive correspondence, which included persons of all ranks, professions and parties.

Among the events of these times, one of the most astonishing in itself, and the most important in its consequences, was the appearance, on the great scene of political contention in France, of an extraordinary person; who was destined to pursue a long and brilliant course; terminated, however, miserably, by defeat, degradation, captivity, and a lingering death, in a distant and desert isle. This person, the reader is aware, was Napoleon Buonaparte—in whom, it is hardly necessary to say, Dr. Parr always acknowledged and admired a genius of the highest order: though it was impossible to contemplate the great and commanding qualities, which he possessed, without fearful apprehensions, when, combined with them, there appeared a restless and boundless ambition, setting at defiance, in the pursuit of its object, all regard to the rights of other nations, and to the true interests of his own. Speaking of the ex-emperor, when his character was fully developed, Dr. Parr said that the words of Tacitus aptly described him, as one who thought “summa scelera incipi cum periculo, peragi cum præmio:” and he often compared him to the Macedonian Philip, who was said “μεθύειν τω μεγέθει των πεπραγμένων.”

It was always believed, however, by Dr. Parr, that the military chieftain of France would have been checked, or, perhaps, finally arrested, in his career of mad ambition, if the offer of a negotiation for peace, which followed his first elevation, had been courteously received and dispassionately considered, instead of being instantly and indignantly rejected by the English government. It was, therefore, a subject of deep regret to him, as well as to many of the wisest and best men of the nation, that so favourable an opportunity was lost of terminating honourably the contest, in which the nation had been so long engaged. Dr. Parr, in lamenting the failure of Mr. Fox’s efforts to stop the ravages of war, and to restore the blessings of peace, thus delivers his opinion:—“By carrying into effect his favourite measure, Mr. Fox might have restrained that military power; which, generated by the enthusiasm of revolution, has transferred the desperate courage of self-preservation to the hazardous enterprises of ambition; which has gathered increase of strength from increase of resistance; which has formed fresh projects after every instance of fresh success; and which, at one time, threatened speedy and total subjugation to the convulsed, dismayed, and infatuated continent of Europe.”1

Another important event of these times was, the union of Great Britain and Ireland; an act of legislation which met with general concurrence in England; but, in Ireland, after much opposition, a kind of sullen acquiescence was purchased from the Catholics, who form the largest part of the

1 Characters of Fox, p. 297.

population, by a promise, communicated from authority, of admission to all the privileges of British subjects. That promise Mr. Pitt found himself unable to fulfil; and in consequence resigned his official dignity, after the possession of it for seventeen years. If that resignation had proceeded from a regard to consistency of public character, or to the obligation of a solemn pledge, it would have been honourable. But, perhaps, Dr. Parr was not far from the truth when, writing to his friend, Mr. Parkes, he said, “I have weighty reasons for assuring you that Pitt’s resignation is one of the most cunning and most mischievous acts of his life.” That it was totally unconnected with principle, was sufficiently proved by his return to office, without the smallest stipulation in favour of that measure, to which the sacrifice of place had been ostensibly offered.

After the retirement of Mr. Pitt and his friends from office, under the administration, at the head of which, to the surprise of the nation, was placed Mr. Addington, late speaker of the House of Commons, the peace of Amiens was signed. Even this pacification, though it seemed to rest on no very firm basis, was joyfully welcomed through the whole country; and it was celebrated by festivities at Hatton parsonage where the very name of peace was regarded as the sacred symbol of all that is good and happy for men and nations.1

1 Dr. Parr often repeated with much animation and delight a beautiful Greek passage on peace, as the greatest of all blessings, in which, amongst others, are the following lines:—

Alas! it proved only a hollow truce. Fresh disputes arose; preparations for hostilities, on both sides, recommenced; and national animosities burst forth with a fury, which seemed to portend nothing less than a war of extermination.

Dr. Parr often spoke of Mr. Addington as a well-intentioned man; but possessing no high powers of intellect; not capable of comprehensive views; and devoid of the political sagacity and intrepidity necessary to the conduct of public affairs, especially in difficult times. The new minister soon felt himself, indeed, unequal to the task which he had assumed, and prudently resigned it. The many attempts now made to form an administration, which should include the most distinguished men of all parties, Dr. Parr watched in their progress, with intense anxiety. But they all failed: and Mr. Pitt, supported by some of his former colleagues, ventured to resume his station at the head of government.

His second administration was short; and, for the most part, unprosperous. Abroad, he saw his warlike projects ending, with the splendid exception of the victory of Trafalgar, in disappointment and disaster. At home, he found arrayed against him a more formidable opposition than he had ever before encountered; and he no longer possessed in the same degree the favour of the sovereign, or Τί εστιν άγαθόν; Νυν ευρον—ειρήνη ΄στιν Γάμους, εόρτας, συγγενεις, παιδας, ϕιλους, Πλουτον, υγιείαν, σιτον, οινον,ήεόνην, Αυτή διδωσι, κ. τ. λ. the confidence of the people. From these sources of anxiety, added to the cares and fatigues inseparable from high station, the health of the premier, which had been for some time precarious, suffered serious injury; and, within eighteen months from the time of his return to office, he sunk, by a gradual decline, into the grave. He died January 23d, 1806. In life, he was more admired than approved; and, after death, was more honourably than gratefully remembered, by the nation over whom he had long borne sway, little short of absolute. Such, as Dr. Parr conceived, is the fair and sober estimate which public opinion has now formed of the celebrated statesman, so often unreasonably extolled by some, and as often unjustly depreciated by others.

To the general surprise, a Whig administration succeeded; and, chiefly by the intervention of Lord Grenville,1 Mr. Fox was once more, after his long exclusion, admitted into the royal presence and councils, as secretary of state for the foreign department. High, it may easily be supposed, was the exultation, and many were the joyful festivities, on the happy occasion, at Hatton. By a remarkable contrast with Mr. Fox’s former coalition, the present was generally approved; and the nation, gratified by his official appointment, would have been still more so, if the station of prime minister had been assigned to him. “It was a decisive proof of his moderation,” says Dr. Parr, “that when he was employed as a servant of the crown, he was content to bear the chief responsibility for measures,

1 See his celebrated letter, May, 1805.

without vaulting into the chief official situation. He humbled, but did not debase himself: and for the loss of exaltation to the highest ministerial power, he was abundantly repaid by the esteem of his colleagues, and the confidence of his party.”1 But what was commendable in Mr. Fox might be unfortunate for his country.

It should, indeed, be remembered, injustice to Mr. Fox, as Dr. Parr often observed, that he was made responsible for certain measures, which excited general surprise and indignation; but which had, probably, never received the sanction of his approbation. If, however, it cannot be denied that some great errors were committed by the administration, of which he was a part; yet it must be acknowledged, on the other hand, that these errors were well atoned for by several important measures, which they proposed and accomplished; especially, by introducing limited service into the military code; by establishing useful regulations in various public offices; by imposing restrictions on the slave-trade; and, above all, by carrying through parliament a resolution for its total abolition. Dr. Parr might, therefore, appeal to the truth of facts, in support of the following observations:—“΄Αρχα δείξει ανδρα, said Bias. I have often heard it remarked, while Mr. Fox was out of power, that he was better qualified to lead a party in opposition, than to hold any high office in the British nation; that it is much easier to object to measures than to plan them; and that Mr. Fox’s parliamentary eloquence

1 Characters of Fox, p. 291.

was a very equivocal proof of political wisdom. Luckily for the wellwishers of Mr. Fox, they were at last supplied with an opportunity of bringing his character to the test, implied in the maxim of old Bias; and they may, with confidence, appeal to the judgment of impartial men, upon the measures, pursued, or proposed, by Mr. Fox, during the few months he was capable of acting for his country in 1806.”1

Most auspiciously, indeed, did Mr. Fox commence his ministerial career, by an explicit declaration of the three great objects to which his efforts should be immediately and strenuously directed. The first was, the abolition of the slave-trade, as already mentioned; the second, the reestablishment of a general peace; the third, the restoration to their just rights of the long-oppressed English and Irish Catholics. But scarcely had he adopted decisive measures for the accomplishment of the first great object, when his bodily health sunk under the too vigorous exertions of his mind; and, after a short illness, he expired, September 13, 1806, in the 59th year of his age.

Mr. Fox’s death was mourned by a whole admiring and grateful nation; and few, it may be believed, were more deeply affected than Dr. Parr. He had long been honoured by his friendship; and it was a distinction of which he was highly and justly proud. He revered his genius: he admired and loved his character: he approved and adopted enthusiastically all those grand political principles,

1 Characters of Fox, p. 581.

for which Mr. Fox was distinguished, and by which he will be immortalised.1

“After having enjoyed,” says Dr. Parr, “health of body and serenity of mind to an advanced period—after tasting the purest pleasures of friendship and literature—after deserving the confidence of his countrymen—after obtaining the respect of surrounding nations—after devoting a long and laborious life to the freedom of England, the tranquillity of Europe, the abolition of the African slave-trade, the correction of Asiatic enormities, and the general happiness of all his fellow-creatures—Mr. Fox was doomed to pay the last debt of nature. Uncorrupted by the fascination of praise, undis-

1 The partialities of the personal and political friend are pleasantly exposed in the following story, related by one of Dr. Parr’s pupils:—“To Grove-park he occasionally sent me on an embassy to obtain the Courier newspaper; and, upon my return, made me read to him the parliamentary debates, which were at that time, full of interest. In the delivery of Mr. Pitt’s speeches, I sometimes took a malicious pleasure in giving the utmost possible effect to the brilliant passages; upon which the Doctor would exclaim, ‘Why, you noodle, do you dwell with such energy upon Pitt’s empty declamation? Don’t you see it is all sophistry?’ At other moments he would say, ‘That is powerful!—but Fox will answer it!’—When I pronounced the words ‘Mr. Fox rose,’ Parr would roar out ‘stop!’ and, after shaking the ashes out of his pipe and filling it afresh, he would add—‘Now, you dog, do your best.’—In the course of the speech, he would often interrupt me, in a tone of triumphant exultation, with exclamations such as the following—‘Capital!’—‘Answer that, if you can, Master Pitt!’ And at the conclusion—‘That is the speech of the orator and the statesman:—Pitt is a mere rhetorician:’ adding after a pause—‘a very able one, I admit.’”—New Monthly Mag. Aug. 1826.

mayed by the clamours of slander, sighing for peace to an exhausted world, and bequeathing to posterity an example, fitted to impress the purity, simplicity and grandeur of his own character upon that of his countrymen, he expired, amidst the tears of his friends, and the affectionate embraces of his nearest and most beloved relations. ‘O fallacem hominum spem, fragilemque fortunam!’”1

The opinions formed of great public characters, especially in times of political contention, are not always such as will stand the test of cool and dispassionate examination at a future and more tranquil period. The observation forcibly applies to the case of the two rival senators and statesmen, of whom England was deprived within the short space of eighteen months; and, perhaps, the estimation in which they were held, by all impartial men, only a few years after their death, is correctly stated by Dr. Parr in the following passage:2—

“Mr. Pitt seems to be less censured by his former adversaries, and less idolised by his former panegyrists. The gratitude of some for favours received; the predilection of others for the system of politics, which is now thought to prevail; the pleasing remembrance of personal friendship; and the sincere participation of that respect which all his countrymen felt for his magnanimous contempt of pelf; preserve some degree of veneration, and, I add, of affection, for his name. No man was ever more applauded, in the zenith of his power; and conspicuous, most assuredly will his talents

1 Characters of Fox, p. 307. 2 Ibid. p. 302.

be, in the records of history. Yet the brilliancy of many of his speeches has faded with the freshness of the occasion which produced them; and the sentiment of popular admiration which, during his lifetime, was most lively, has undergone a partial decay. But Mr. Fox, who had little to give, beyond good wishes, and little to receive from other men, besides the same wishes, as the recompense of his good meaning, even now keeps a hold, which, from the regret which mingles with it, is stronger, perhaps, than that which he had, when he was living, upon our attention, our esteem, and love. He will long continue to keep it, because his actions were not at variance with his professions; because his political virtues were not disproportioned to his political abilities; and because his errors and infirmities were not accompanied by cowardice, fickleness, dissimulation, or venality.”1

It was, on one of the earliest acts of Mr. Fox’s short administration, that Dr. Parr passes his encomiums in these fervid strains:—

“Might we not rest the credit of our friend’s sagacity, moderation, steadiness and honour, upon his manifesto to the court of Berlin, about the seizure of Hanover?2 I read it six times atten-

1 Speaking of Mr. Fox, soon after his death, Dr. Parr said, “that he had in his nature neither gall nor guile: he never gave his mind to a fraud, nor his tongue to a lie.”—“His,” said he, on another occasion, “was the soul of pure benevolence: never did it heave with the sigh of envy; never throb with the pang of malevolence.”

2 New Annual Register.

tively, and with fresh satisfaction from every fresh perusal. I have heard of the serious impression which it made, in the best-informed circles at home, and in every court upon the continent. But how shall I describe it? Shall I say it was conceived and expressed more majorum? It was so. Shall I add, as Dr. Young said of Johnson’s Rasselas, that it is a mass of sense? It was that and more. Let me characterise it, then, in the emphatical words of an ancient critic, Ηολλης ην πείρας τελευταιον επιγέννημα.”1

It is delightful to contemplate, at the beautiful close of a patriot’s life, such endeavours as those which Mr. Fox exerted to put an end to the miseries of war, and restore, to the contending nations of Europe, the blessings of peace, in the spirit of peace. To these last efforts of the expiring patriot Dr. Parr thus alludes:—“The prospect of approaching dissolution served only to enliven his zeal, and to accelerate his exertions. In his correspondence with the wily and eloquent minister of France, written under the pressure of disease, and even on the verge of the grave, we still see the same noble qualities of the heart, cooperating with the wonderful powers of his judgment. We see in it no deviation from those sacred rules of sincerity and truth, which extend the authority of their obligation over the whole agency of moral being; and diffuse their happy influence alike over the pursuits of individuals, and the negotiations of statesmen.”2

“Mr. Fox’s funeral,” as described by Dr. Parr

1 Characters of Fox, p. 305. 2 Ibid.

in his letter to Mr. Coke, “was attended by persons of the highest distinction for science, learning, political ability, and hereditary rank. The procession was marked by a deep and solemn silence, which evinced the unfeigned sorrow of the spectators; and his remains were interred in Westminster Abbey—the hallowed depository of departed sages, heroes, patriots, and kings. Away with those politics and that philosophy, which would steel our hearts against the honest feelings of nature! Why, dear sir, should we dissemble? or how can we forget what we experienced when the lifeless body of our friend was committed to the ground, near the grave of a rival, who, but a few months before, had fallen from the heights of fame and power, into the valley of the shadow of death? Was it not melancholy and awe, mingled with a sort of wonder, and with solemn reflections upon the appointed end of genius, ambition, and all sublunary glories? Reviewing and cherishing what we then felt, during the hallowed rites of burial, why should we hesitate to apply to these extraordinary men the striking words of the poet? Hi motus animorum atque hæc certamina tanta, Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt.”1

The admirers of Mr. Fox will remember with satisfaction that the funeral was attended by the following ecclesiastics—Dr. Parr, Dr. Knox, Dr. Symmons, Dr. Raine, Dr. Hughes, principal of Jesus College, Oxford, and Dr. Davy, master of Caius College, Cambridge.

1 Characters of Fox, p. 309.

CHAPTER II. A.D. 1807—1810. Dr. Parr’s letter to Mr. Roscoe on peace—Abolition of the slave-trade—Dismissal of the Whig ministers—Dr. Parr’s encomium upon them—His portraiture of himself—The Catholic question—Dr. Parr’s censure on the Copenhagen expedition—His thoughts on Spanish affairs—Death of Sir John Moore—Dr. Parr’s inscription to his memory—Royal jubilee—Imprisonment of Sir Francis Burdett—The right of imprisonment, asserted by the Commons, denied by Dr. Parr.

Deep was the regret felt by Dr. Parr, in common with many of the best friends of their country, when he saw the negotiations for peace, so happily begun under the auspices of Mr. Fox, terminated by his death, and the very spirit of peace expiring with him. It was however some satisfaction to observe that, amidst the loud and increasing clamours of the war-party, there were a few bold and determined advocates of peace: among whom conspicuously appeared Mr. Roscoe—a name now become as dear to liberty and humanity, as it was before to literature and the arts. In a pamphlet, entitled “Considerations on the Causes, &c. of the Present War,” that able writer delivered a clear and powerful exposition of the dangers of persisting in the contest, and of the expediency and necessity of proposing a negotiation for peace. Of this publication, and of the great object to which it is directed, Dr. Parr expressed his opinion in a letter, dated February 8, 1808, from which the following is an extract:—

“Dear Sir,—I have been rambling in Buckinghamshire; where, on January 26, I kept my birth-day, in a company of sound constitutional Whigs. Yesterday, on reaching Oxford, I had the pleasure of receiving your letter, which my daughter had forwarded from Hatton. Accept my best thanks for the present of your excellent book. I read it with eagerness. It is a most masterly performance; and will produce all the good effect you wish for among good men. But of peace itself I begin to despair, &c.—S. P.”

It was at a somewhat earlier period that the “Life of Lorenzo de Medici” had been followed, from the pen of the same writer, by the “Life and Pontificate of Leo X.” During the progress of this work, Dr. Parr was often consulted and on its appearance before the public, he thus offered his congratulations to the author:—

“Dear and excellent Mr. Roscoe,—Accept my hearty thanks for the most valuable present with which you have honoured me. I expected your book with much impatience, under the fullest conviction that you have triumphed over all the difficulties of your subject. It is your right and your duty to speak out on the motives of agents, as well as on the effects of actions; and in me you will

1 “Roscoe’s Life and Pontificate of Leo X., 4th edition.—To the Rev. Dr. Parr, these volumes, improved by his corrections, and honoured by his remarks, are respectfully presented by the author.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 383.

find not only an attentive, but an impartial reader. Reflection and study have worn down the prejudices of my ecclesiastic profession, and raised my mind to higher considerations, than the victories of the turbulent, or the wranglings of the orthodox, &c.—S. P.”

In the new parliament, which assembled January, 1807, the electors of Liverpool did themselves honour by returning, as one of their members, their highly-distinguished townsman, Mr. Roscoe; nor was there any election, at that time, which gave more general satisfaction. The lovers of literature united in their congratulations with the lovers of peace and freedom; and among the first who hastened with their joyous expressions on the happy occasion was Dr. Parr, in the following note, perhaps Mr. Roscoe’s first franked letter:—“My dear friend,—I seize my pen, amidst the bustle of elections, to congratulate you on your election.—May Heaven bless you and yours!—S. P.”

Painfully disappointed in his hopes of peace, Dr. Parr found no small source of consolation in the triumph which, about this period, the cause of justice and humanity obtained by the abolition of the slave-trade. It was a long-contested and a hard-earned victory, gained over a system of fraud, violence and oppression, revolting to all the feelings of human nature; but sanctioned by time, supported by national pride and prejudice, and connected with commercial and trading interests.

For no less than twenty-one years,1 a question

1 The first petition on the subject of the slave-trade was

—which to the unprejudiced and unperverted mind needed only to be stated, in order to be decided—was agitated, again and again, in both Houses of Parliament, often with little success, and sometimes with little prospect of success. Even so late as the session of 1805, the usual bill presented to the Commons, for the fourteenth or, fifteenth time, was rejected, with much indifference, by a majority of 77 to 70. But the end of this infamous traffic was at last approaching. The memorable resolution of 1806, adopted in both Houses, declaring the necessity of abolishing it, was, in the very next session, carried into full effect. That resolution had been moved by Mr. Fox; and his reflections on this last important service, rendered to his country and to humanity, are said, on good authority, to have soothed his pains, and cheered his spirits, in the last moment of expiring life.

Of all those, who devoted themselves to this glorious work of justice and benevolence, the praise is pre-eminently due to three individuals, Granville Sharpe, Thomas Clarkson, and William Wilberforce. To the first belongs the proud distinction of being the first active mover in the great cause: to the second and the third, that of being its most zealous and persevering advocates, the one within, the other without, the walls of parliament. Of bodies of men, engaged in the same great moral contest, the sect of the Quakers is entitled to the highest commendation; and next to them,

presented to the House of Commons by the Quakers in 1783.

the clergy of all denominations, especially those of the Establishment. As these last have too often exposed themselves to censure, for their opposition to reforms and improvements, civil or ecclesiastical; let it to their lasting honour be remembered, that, by their exertions in arousing attention, and diffusing information, they have mainly contributed to produce the grand and happy result, which relieved the nation from a heavy load of guilt and infamy; and delivered, from dreadful wrongs and cruelties, the unoffending tribes of Africa.

Foremost in this goodly array of all the wisdom and virtue of the nation, it is scarcely necessary to say that Dr. Parr took his stand. On every occasion, he was ready with his pen, and with the sanction of his name and his presence, to aid in exposing and destroying a system of horrible outrage against all the common rights and feelings of humanity. In a note to a neighbouring friend, dated so early as July 1800, he thus writes—“And now for the slave-trade—Pray consult with your leading men at Warwick. I shall sign; and, if called upon, but not otherwise, will write the petition. Again let me repeat—pray consult! S. P.”

Scarcely had this most wise and most righteous measure been accomplished, when, by a sudden revolution in the cabinet, produced by the agitation of the Catholic question, the Tory principles, so triumphant through the late reign, after a momentary depression, revived once more; and gained a new and signal victory in the dismissal of the Whig ministers, who have never since been able to re-obtain the ascendancy. Their rise had been joyfully hailed, and yet their fall was little lamented, by the nation, or even by their own partisans.1 Justly censured, however, as they were, for some unadvised and unfortunate acts; yet the short duration of their power, and the peculiar difficulties of their situation, considered, it must be acknowledged that they performed many important services, for which they will long be remembered with respect and gratitude by their country.

The following encomium, passed by Dr. Parr upon the members and the measures of the Whig administration, though merited, on the whole, is yet too indiscriminate to be perfectly just:—

“They were men of sense, men of letters, gentlemen, and statesmen. They restored the old and venerable character of a free, a just and strong government, in the view of the people and of Europe. When I think of Mr. Canning, Lord Harrowby, and Lord Chatham, I shall not say that their predecessors engrossed all the talents. They never themselves harboured such a presumptuous thought: they never uttered such a silly expression. But their intentions were honest: their measures were wise; and their fall was unmerited by themselves, though not unexpected by those who have observed of what stuff court favourites and novi homines are sometimes made.”2

1 Dr. Johnson’s words were often quoted on this occasion, with too much appearance of reason, “that Tories are Whigs when out of place, and Whigs Tories when in place.”

2 Characters of Fox, p. 306.

Whilst thus lamenting the dissolution of the Whig ministry, Dr. Parr, in anticipation of allusions that might be made to his own connexion with them, has given a sketch of himself, conceived with much spirit, and touched with strong effect, in the following passage:—

“Some men will ask—Was I not personally interested in the continuance of their power? For aught I know, I might; and for aught I know, I might not. But thus much I do know; and to those who would insult me with the question, I should confidently say thus much—that, from my youth upward to the present moment, I have never deserted a private friend, nor ever violated a public principle—that I have been the slave of no patron, and the drudge of no party—that I have formed my political principles without the smallest regard, and have acted upon them with an utter disregard, to personal emoluments and professional honours—that for many and the best years of my existence I endured very irksome toil, and suffered very galling need—that measuring my resources by my wants, I now so abound, as to unite a competent income with an independent spirit—and that, above all, looking back to this life, and onward to another, I possess that inward peace, which the world can neither give nor take away.”1

The dismissal of the Whigs from office was speedily followed by the dissolution of parliament; and so complete was the triumph of toryism, supported by its powerful ally, fanatical zeal, that

1 Characters of Fox, p. 306.

many even of the most independent and patriotic members were unable to secure their re-election. Among them, Mr. Roscoe found himself obliged to resign his pretensions to the honour of representing his native town, so lately conferred upon him. This displeasing event, and the deplorable infatuation of the public mind, at that period, Dr. Parr bewailed, with anguish of spirit, in the impassioned language of the following letter:—

“Dear Mr. Roscoe—I am seized alternately with stupor and indignation at the state of public affairs. Do not suppose that I am a tame or careless observer of the strange and disgraceful events, which have occurred at Liverpool. Disdain, I beseech you, to repel any accusations. All wise and all virtuous men will deplore your removal from parliament, and will detest or despise the artifices of your opponents. Reading, reflection, the society of wise men, and the conscious rectitude of our own intentions, will preserve you and me from the perturbation and dismay which other men may experience in these strange and eventful times. The yell of ‘No popery!’ has been heard even at Cambridge; the effects of it were visible in the late election; and on the walls of our senate-house, of Clare-Hall chapel, and of Trinity-Hall, I saw the odious words, in large characters. The good sense of the country, dear sir, will not speedily return. There is a great and portentous change in the public mind; and you and I are at a loss to assign the cause, or to predict the consequences. So it is that amidst the fury of the tempest, and the wreck of our fairest hopes, I feel myself sustained and animated by the reflection that you, and those who supported you, deserved a better fate. I am, &c.—S. P.”

The old and the hideous cry, mentioned in the above letter, raised by the Tory ministry, in order to secure their triumph, was re-echoed with all the frantic vehemence, real or assumed, of terrified or irritated bigotry, from all classes of the people, and especially—eheu! posteri, negabitis!—from the two universities1 and the whole clerical body—though not without some splendid exceptions. Among the last, who not only admitted, but strenuously supported, the claims of the Catholics, a conspicuous place is due to Dr. Paley, Mr. Wyvill, Bishop Watson, Bishop Bathurst, and Dr. Parr.

The three former, in this small but illustrious band, have left their deliberate and decided opinion in favour of Catholic emancipation—the first in a celebrated work,2 considered by some as of almost oracular authority—the second, in a small, but admirable pamphlet, entitled, “A more extended Discussion in favour of Liberty of Conscience recommended”—the third, in a “Charge” delivered to his clergy, and published in 1808, and also in the interesting “Memoirs of his own Life.” In this last posthumous work, Bishop Watson thus strongly

1 “No circumstance, in the opposition made to the Catholic claims, is so provoking to me, as the blind infuriate hostility of the two universities, which our Roman forefathers most meritoriously founded and endowed. Here my heart sometimes glows with indignation, and sometimes bleeds with anguish.”—Dr. Parr’s Letter to Mr. Butler. Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 215.

2 Moral and Political Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 341.

expresses himself: “I have thought it my duty to declare publicly my approbation of a measure, calculated, I sincerely believe, above all others, to support the independence of the country, to secure the stability of the throne, to promote peace among fellow-subjects, and charity among fellow-Christians, and in no probable degree dangerous to the constitution in church or state.”1

The venerable Bishop Bathurst, who still lives to uphold the national church by his wisdom, and to adorn it by his virtues, from the first session after his elevation to the bench, as often as the Catholic claims were brought under the consideration of parliament has never failed to appear in his place, as their advocate; though hitherto opposed, with a single exception, by all his right reverend brethren. To the extraordinary merits of these exertions, and to the various excellencies by which this eminent prelate is distinguished, Dr. Parr has borne his testimony in his “last will” as follows—“I give a ring to the Right Reverend Dr. Bathurst, Lord Bishop of Norwich, as a mark of my reverence for his learning and wisdom—for his inflexible firmness in supporting the sacred cause of toleration—and for those pure and hallowed principles of Christian charity, which adorn every part of his character, social and religious.”

It has been noticed in a former part of this work, that Dr. Parr, early in life, entertained doubts about the expediency of repealing the test laws; but that, by further reading and reflection, these doubts were removed; and in his later years, he

1 Anecdotes of Watson, vol. ii. p. 241.

saw and felt, with strong conviction, as a matter of policy, the advantage, and as a matter of claim, the justice, of admitting Catholics, as well as other dissidents, to all the civil privileges of British subjects. “Unfeignedly and avowedly,” says he, in one of his publications, “I am a well-wisher to the petitions which the English and the Irish Catholics have presented to parliament in order to obtain relief from certain galling restraints and insulting exclusions. I do not believe, whatever others may, that the success of these petitions would be dangerous to the doctrine, the discipline, and the usefulness, of the Established Church, to the fundamental principles of the constitution, or to the permanent tranquillity of the state.”1

The honest recorder of Dr. Parr’s opinions must not attempt to conceal that, for the old Romish church, he ever entertained an almost reverential respect; and that he was accustomed to extol its merits, to soften its errors, and to palliate its enormities, more than, to the writer’s apprehension, truth would warrant or candour require. In his strong way of talking, he used to say that he was but imperfectly a Protestant; and that, if ever he changed his religion, it would be to go back to the bosom of the mother-church, “that great and ancient and venerable church,” as he loved to designate it. So highly did he estimate the erudition of its many great scholars, that, speaking of a distinguished modern divine, he said, “he was a very learned man in the English church, and would almost have been considered so in the Church of

1 Letter to Dr. Milner, p. 35;

Rome.” He carried his favourable opinion of the latter so far, as to avow his belief that, with the reformation of some of its more glaring abuses, it would have stood firm and flourishing to this day.1 “I shall always maintain, openly and unequivocally,” says he, “that in far the greater part of those doctrines, which the Church of England has classed among the essential truths of Christianity, the Church of Rome has long professed, and continues to profess, the same belief.”2

Great stress has been laid, by many Protestants, on those interpretations of Scripture which refer to the Romish hierarch and hierarchy, the prophetic declarations, in the apostolic epistles, about “the man of sin,” and “the son of perdition,” and “the antichrist;” and those also in the Apocalypse about “the mystery,” “Babylon the great,” “the mother of harlots,” and “the abomination of the earth.” But whilst Dr. Parr acknowledged “depth of science in Mede, eminence of genius in Bishop Warburton, acuteness of reasoning and elegance of diction in Bishop Hurd, and a spirit of diligent inquiry in Bishop Newton and Bishop Halifax,” by all of whom these interpretations are zealously maintained: yet, in common with Grotius, Episcopius, Archbishop Sheldon, and Dr. Hammond, he considered the interpretations them-

1 “Every intelligent and serious and honest teacher of the English church, ought to read attentively the three following books—The Catholic Liturgy, published by Gandolphy—The Roman Missal for the use of the Laity—Vespers according to the Roman Breviary. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 681.

2 Characters of Fox, p. 623.

selves as destitute of all just foundation;1 and, at the same time, as calculated, at once, to embitter the minds of the Protestants and to exasperate those of the Catholics. The notion, also, that the Church of Rome is chargeable with impiety or idolatry in their supposed worship of glorified saints, or in their adoration of the sacramental elements, Dr. Parr resisted as a false and groundless imputation.

But though he thought thus favourably of the Romish church, yet it would be most unjust to conclude that Dr. Parr did not give a sincere and decided preference to the church to which, by profession, he belonged: nor would the writer have thought it necessary to guard against so unwarrantable a conclusion, had it not been for the amazing and audacious attempt of the late Dr. Milner, to induce the world to believe, contrary to all probability, and in the absence of all evidence, that many not only of the members, but of the dignitaries of the English church have died in the Catholic faith. Dr. Parr himself undertook to rescue the fame of Bishop Halifax2 from so gross an aspersion; and that no similar imputation may rest upon his own name, the following passages from his printed works are here subjoined:—

“For my part, it is my lot to differ from the

1 Characters of Fox, p. 653, &c.

2 “Not only Bishop Halifax, Bishop King, Dr. Rennel, Dean of Winchester, according to Dr. Milner, but Luther, Melancthon, Beza, secretly cherished, while they openly rejected, the Catholic faith!”—See Milner’s End of Religious Controversy, part iii. p. 326.

Church of Rome in several doctrinal points more widely than some of its fiercest opponents.”—“I wish the cause of Protestantism to be ever victorious over the errors of the Romish church.”—“I think the Church of England the best ψυχης ΄Ιατρειον in Christendom.”1—“With the members of the English church, I have lived in communion from my boyhood to my grey hairs; and in the same communion, I hope to pour forth my latest breath.”2

By the wretched expedient of rousing against the Catholics the blind rage of religious bigotry, so disgraceful to the character of the nation and their own, the new ministry, with the Duke of Portland as the nominal, and Mr. Perceval as the efficient head, soon found themselves firmly fixed on the seat of government. Their first attention was directed to the vigorous prosecution of the war; but unfortunately their wisdom did not appear equal to their vigour. Almost their first measure was an attack upon Denmark, a friendly state, because she refused to give up the entire of her fleet into their possession. This unjustifiable transaction was instantly condemned by a considerable part of the nation,3 with a truly English

1 Characters of Fox, p. 620. 658. 818.

2 Letter to Milner, p. 36.

3 “Lord Sidmouth designated it as ‘an outrage.’ Lord Grenville denounced it as ‘an indelible disgrace to the country.’ Mr. Windham and Dr. Lawrence both termed it ‘a lasting monument of disgrace.’ Mr. Whitbread branded it as ‘a treacherous and base aggression on our parts.’ Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Tierney, and other distinguished members of parliament, spoke of it in corresponding language of obloquy and

abhorrence of whatever looks like a violation of public honour or equity: though in the minds of the far greater number that noble and characteristic feeling was absorbed for a time, in admiration of the boldness of the enterprise, and in joy at its success. Among the former conspicuously stood Mr. Roscoe; by whom it was exposed and reprobated, in the publication before alluded to.1 Writing to him on the subject, Dr. Parr thus expressed himself:—

“I find nine persons out of ten disposed to continue the war—disposed to approve of all that passed at Copenhagen—disposed to consider Mr. Canning’s defence of the measure as solid and satisfactory. What are you to expect from people so infatuated? When Canning proposed seizing next the Russian fleet, the King is said to have answered—“Well—well, Canning, we will have no more ship-stealing this year.” The culprits, dear sir, may be taken up and punished, when another opportunity occurs. I am with you in every statement, every opinion, every conclusion, of your book,” &c.

Early in 1808, the attention of all England and all Europe was drawn towards the Spanish Peninsula; where scenes of outrage were passing, at which the astonishment, first excited, was soon lost in the extreme of indignation and horror. The prime mover and the chief actor, it soon appeared, was the designing and daring ruler of France;

condemnation.”—See Parliamentary Debates, February 14, 1808.

1 See p. 14.

but the events are too recent to need repetition here. Suffice it to say, that the effect of his bold and flagitious attempt to seize the sovereignty of Spain, was to rouse, in the whole Spanish nation, the spirit of determined resistance—which recoiled on the oppressor, and finally destroyed him.

“Spain,” says Dr. Parr, speaking of these times, “has made a noble effort to recover her independence; and Napoleon will, I trust, experience the justness of Hannibal’s observation, Non temere incerta casuum reputat, quem fortuna nunquam decepit. Let us not despair. The people, opposed to this mighty conqueror, are actuated by the purest and strongest motives, which can influence the human mind. Under the auspices of leaders truly patriotic, they will show what a people can achieve, who are fighting for their laws, their independence, their family, their friends, and the religion of their fathers.”1

The first great object of the Spanish patriots was to effect a peace, and to form an alliance, with England; and their overtures were answered by a correspondent spirit, on the part of the sovereign, the parliament, and the people. A powerful force was sent to their aid, under the command of Sir John Moore, a general of high repute. It is not within the design of the writer to narrate the manner in which, deceived by false intelligence, and allured by deceitful promises, the British general, advancing from Corunna too far into the country, found himself opposed by a far superior force; part of which was commanded by Marshal

1 Characters of Fox, p. 576.

Soult, and part by Napoleon himself. Compelled by hard necessity, he began, and, amidst incredible hardships, finally accomplished, his retreat to Corunna. Here, at the head of exhausted and dispirited troops, he was attacked by the pursuing army. A hot engagement ensued: the enemy was beaten; but, in the moment of victory, the brave commander, struck on the right arm by a cannonball, fell, and soon afterwards expired.

With a generous admiration of skill and valour even in an adversary, Marshal Soult reared a monument to the fallen hero on the spot, where he had received his mortal wound. But being formed of wood—though afterwards repaired by order of the Spanish general, Marquis Romana—within a few years the monument appeared to be going fast to decay. In 1814, therefore, by direction of the English government, a new and more durable monument of marble was erected on the same spot; and, at the request of Lord Bathurst, the inscription was written by Dr. Parr.1

The British general fell, indeed, in “the field of proud honour:” yet, for a moment, a cloud seemed to gather over the splendour of his reputation; as if, in his Spanish campaign, he had betrayed either a want of foresight in advancing, or a want of firmness or courage in retreating. But this cloud soon passed away; and ample justice was done to his extraordinary merits, on this, as well as on former occasions, by the nation, in whose battles he had so often bled, and in whose

1 See App. No. II.—See also a translation by Dr. Parr, App. No. III.

service he had so nobly died. Whatever, in his military plans, might seem open to objection, is satisfactorily explained, in the “Narrative of the Spanish Campaign,” written by his brother, James Moore, Esq.

Dr. Parr entertained much regard for the family of Sir John Moore, as well as the highest esteem, mingled with admiration, for the illustrious general himself. His father was the amiable and excellent Dr. Moore, well known for his pleasing and popular works, consisting chiefly of “Travels” and “Novels;” and honourably distinguished as the kind and judicious friend and correspondent of the celebrated Ayrshire poet. With his brother, just named, a surgeon of eminence in London, and author of several useful medical publications, Dr. Parr cultivated a personal acquaintance. He frequently visited at his house; and always spoke with great respect of his character, and of his professional talents. In his last will, he bequeathes a ring “to his highly-valued friend, James Moore, Esq.”1

October 25, 1809, was pleasingly distinguished in the annals of British loyalty, as being the day on which the Sovereign entered into the fiftieth year of his reign. It was observed, therefore, throughout the kingdom, as a national jubilee. The virtues of the King’s private life, and the good intentions which marked his public acts, were the theme of

1 “Moore’s History of the Small-pox—History of Vaccination.—The gifts of the author, a skilful surgeon in Conduit-street, and brother to the celebrated, but injured, Sir John Moore.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 473.

universal and grateful acknowledgment; and most sincere was the public rejoicing on the happy occasion. Among other places, Hatton-parsonage was the scene of loyal festivities: in which the writer had the pleasure of participating. Dr. Parr pronounced, on this occasion, a beautiful and affecting eulogy on the character of the King; and gave, also, as a toast—“May all good kings live to be old; and all old kings live to be good!” Alas! the monarch long, indeed, survived this era: yet his rational existence closed the next succeeding year, when he was seized with a mental malady, from which he never recovered.

In the year 1810, during the parliamentary inquiry into the Walcheren expedition, the public attention was suddenly and powerfully diverted from it, to some rash and unadvised proceedings in the House of Commons. A person named John Gale Jones had been summoned to its bar, on a charge of publishing a libel, reflecting on the character of one of its members; and was ordered, on the speaker’s warrant, to be sent to Newgate. Against the power, thus assumed, Sir Francis Burdett, both in his place in parliament and in a letter to his constituents, indignantly protested, as entirely subversive of the principles of the constitution, and utterly inconsistent with the personal safety or liberty of the subject. If an accused person, without form of trial, without means of defence, without examination of witnesses on oath, can thus be pronounced guilty, and committed to prison by those who are at once his accusers and his judges, then, indeed, there is despotic power in England, of a most tremendous kind, against which all the securities, provided by the laws, are of no avail. But in opposition to this plain and cogent reasoning, the Commons, on both sides of the House, seemed determined to maintain their imagined privileges; and, for venturing to deny them, Sir Francis was committed prisoner to the Tower: whence he was not liberated till the close of the session.

On this subject, after much inquiry and much deliberation, Dr. Parr formed a most decided opinion, in which almost all the reflecting part of the nation have since concurred, that under no circumstances whatever is the House of Commons invested with authority to inflict punishment for any misdemeanour, further than may be strictly necessary to preserve order, and to prevent interruption, in their own proceedings. In confirmation of his opinion, he appealed to the debates and resolutions of the two Houses, on the Aylesbury case, in the reign of Queen Anne. On that occasion, the commitment of the six men of Aylesbury to prison, by the Commons, was declared by a vote of the Lords to be contrary to the laws; and a decision was pronounced by Lord Chief-justice Holt, that they ought to be forthwith set at liberty. “If this exorbitant claim,” said that great and upright magistrate, “were once established, the subject might be deprived of his dearest right by the mere arbitrary will of the Commons; and the injured party remain wholly destitute of any legal or regular means of reparation or redress.”

CHAPTER III. A.D. 1809. Publication of “Characters of Mr. Fox”—A character written in Latin by Dr. Parr—Other characters selected from newspapers—From magazines, sermons, &c.—A character written by Dr. Parr in English—Notes—Disquisition on the state of the penal laws—Remarks on Mr. Fox’s historical work—Reprint of four scarce tracts.

Early in the year 1809 issued from the press a work, in two volumes, 8vo. entitled, “Characters of the late Charles James Fox, by Philopatris Varvicensis.” This was soon recognised as the production of Dr. Parr. Though it bore a strange and repulsive appearance; yet they, who had the resolution to search into its contents, soon found that it possessed intrinsic worth, sufficient to claim for it more attention than, from the form in which it was presented to the public, it could hope to obtain. It proved to be the last of Dr. Parr’s publications; and he often reflected upon it with pleasure, as consecrated to the memory of a friend and a patriot, whom most of all he loved and revered. Those who felt disappointed at not receiving from the pen of Dr. Parr “the Life of Mr. Fox,” which public rumour had promised, were yet pleased to witness the honours here rendered, upon a less extended scale, by the first scholar, to the first statesman of his age.

Of the two volumes, of which some account is now to be given, the former opens with the “Character of Mr. Fox,” written in Latin by Dr. Parr, which originally appeared in the preface to “Bellendeni de statu Libri Tres,” as noticed in a former part of the present work. This is followed by a selection of “characters,” drawn of him, soon after his death, which, it was thought, might not be unacceptable to the public in a permanent form. It consists of seven or eight articles from the London, and about as many from the country newspapers. They are selected with impartiality; and many are written with considerable, and some with great ability. It is gratifying to observe that all the various writers of all the opposing parties seem eager to pay, with one harmonious consent, their homage to the shades of a great, a wise, a patriotic, and an honest statesman.

Next to the characters, taken from the diurnal and weekly journals, others, more carefully composed, are selected from magazines, reviews, pamphlets, sermons, speeches, and poems. Among all these, the praise is due to the Universal Magazine of having preserved in its pages, perhaps, the best detailed account hitherto given of Mr. Fox; and it may surely be regretted that no able pen has yet been employed to record, in an extended biographical memoir, the great principles which formed his political system, and the noble and amiable qualities which distinguished his public and private character. The time is now distant enough to admit of weighing, in the balance of impartial consideration, all the transactions of his important and eventful life; and by longer delay much advantage must be lost, in the fading recollection of those from whom valuable communications might be expected, and still more in their disappearance from the scene of earthly existence.

Three solemn and affecting testimonies are next inserted, borne to the merits of the departed statesman, in public discourses, delivered to their respective congregations, on the Sunday succeeding his funeral, by Mr. Aspland, Mr. Belsham, and Dr. Symmons: of which, the first is fervid and animated; the second, dignified and energetic; and the third is a fine burst of grief, from a heart filled with veneration and gratitude, pouring its sorrows, in strains of touching pathos, over the grave of the friend and benefactor of his country and the world. These are followed, among other articles, by a splendid eulogy, ascribed to Sir James Mackintosh, and by two sketches of character, drawn with uncommon ability and spirit; the one by Mr. Godwin, the other by the Rev. Robert Fellowes.

Though it was a matter of general surprise that Dr. Parr should stoop to the humble task of compiling articles from newspapers, magazines, and other productions of the day; yet there are few persons who will not be glad to reap the fruit of his labours, in the possession of these “selected characters:” nor is it improbable that, thus preserved, they may prove not uninteresting to a distant posterity, by the views which they exhibit of the merits or demerits of an illustrious statesman, as estimated by some of his intelligent contemporaries.

The first volume closes with a delineation of Mr. Fox’s character, by the Editor himself, conveyed in the form of a letter, addressed to Thomas William Coke, Esq. It is a grand portrait of a glorious character, drawn with much discrimination of judgment, wrought up with powerful effect, and adorned with splendid colouring, by the hand of a master. Who can help wishing that this admirable sketch had been so filled up as to form “a life” of the orator and the statesman, who possessed indeed various and almost unrivalled excellencies; but whose proudest title, in his own estimation, was “the Man of the People?”1

Having traced, in bold outline, the great character intended to be represented, Dr. Parr enters into a detail, somewhat minute, of Mr. Fox’s attainments as a scholar, his talents as a speaker, his merits as a statesman, his conversational powers, his private pursuits, his moral qualities, and his social habits.

The detail begins with the employment of his retired hours. Among these were, poetical and prose composition; of which the former has ever been admired for the easy flow of its numbers, and the varied tints of its expression; and the latter for its perspicuity, its purity, its simplicity and elegance.2 Mr. Fox studied much, and with ever

1 “Animus vere popularis saluti populi consulens.”—Cic.

2 Mr. Prior, in his Life of Mr. Burke, vol. ii. p. 27, relates that “Dr. Parr, though so staunch a friend of the man of the people, expressed himself slightingly of the taste and literary merit displayed in Mr. Fox’s ‘Letter to the Electors of Westminster:’ observing, that there are passages in it at which Addison would

new delight, the best English, French and Italian poets, and the best epic and dramatic writers of antiquity. He read the celebrated authors of Greece and Rome, not only with taste, but with philological precision. Among his most admired authors were Euripides and Aristophanes: and though himself the most Demosthenean of all speakers, yet he was more delighted with Cicero than with Demosthenes.

His reading in metaphysical books was confined and desultory: yet he possessed many of the greatest advantages, which metaphysical studies are supposed to bestow on the operations of the human understanding. His habit of taking large and comprehensive views, and of looking at every subject on every side, enabled him to find the shortest way to the stronger probabilities, and the more important results; and his good sense led him to acquiesce in them when found.

He studied law; for he was not so absurd as to imagine that this study is wholly separate from that of politics. He distinguished, however, between the duties of a legislative assembly and a court of judicature; and he thought that lawyers do not often make good senators, and still less

have smiled, and Johnson would have growled.” This account is opposed to all that the writer ever heard, and he has heard much, on the subject, from Dr. Parr, who often spoke with admiration of that “Letter,” expatiating, sometimes almost rapturously, on the “matchless felicities of its simple style”—“so perspicuous, that the most ignorant might understand it; and so pure and energetic, that the most accomplished scholar must be delighted with it.” He thought it in many respects superior to the style of Mr. Fox’s historical work.

often good statesmen. The habit of reasoning, contracted from long practice in their profession, too frequently produces a narrowness and obliquity in their way of thinking; and these disqualify them for the clear comprehension, and the just decision, of those vast and complicated questions, on which depend the fate of kingdoms and the welfare of nations.

In the social circle, it is allowed that Mr. Fox was often silent, though never contemptuous; often reserved, but never morose. At times, however, he took his full share in the liveliest or in the gravest discussions; and then he could trifle without loss of dignity, or dispute without loss of temper. Whenever, in short, by the importance of the subject, or by the cheerfulness of his spirit, he was induced to talk, his conversation was not unworthy of his general fame.1

Of his habits in private life, it is said, such was the superiority of his mind to simulation and dissimulation, such the exemption of his temper and manners from petty conceit and wayward singularity, that they who approached him oftenest esteemed him most. Their admiration was excited, when they observed that he, who was eminent in great things, had the power without effort, and without art, to please friends, strangers, and domestics, upon all those little occasions, on which other men are rarely found to unite simplicity with propriety, and to preserve dignity without indulging self-importance.2

Speaking of the moral qualities, which distin-

1 Page 185. 2 Page 579.

guished Mr. Fox—“In him,” says Dr. Parr, “we behold that true benevolence which teaches men to sympathise with the sorrows and the joys of their fellow men; and impels them to alleviate the one, and to heighten and perpetuate the other. In him, too, we behold the last, greatest, best, and rarest of its effects, in the disposition which he manifested not only to love and encourage virtue, but, on every proper occasion, to admit and enforce every possible extenuation of ‘all the sins, negligences, and ignorances,’ to which man is made subject by the will of his Creator; for purposes sometimes, indeed, inscrutable, but, in numberless instances, visibly righteous and wise.”1

Something is said by Dr. Parr, though obscurely said,2 about Mr. Fox’s religious opinions: the amount of which, however, seems to be what follows. He had not much considered the evidences of Christianity, and had not attained to a clear and decided conviction of its heavenly origin; yet he held in the highest reverence its leading doctrines, and its moral precepts: but could find no sufficient reasons for admitting some other doctrines as part of it,3 which many wise and good men have believed to be so. It seems, indeed,

1 Page 190. 2 Page 219.

3 During the period of the great controversy between Dr. Horsley and Dr. Priestley, the subject being mentioned to Mr. Fox, he observed, in the hearing of a friend of the writer, that he was certainly no reader of theological books; that he understood little of the state of the argument between the two mighty disputants; but that his mind had sometimes glanced towards the main question, which the one affirmed and the other denied; and that as far as such a glance might entitle

highly probable that there was, in Mr. Fox’s mind, much of the real feeling, with little of the show of piety;1 and certainly there was charity, such as the best Christian might own: of which brilliant was the display, in his noble and generous exertions for the good of men and of nations, through his whole course of active life; and which shone out, with mild lustre, in its decline and its close. For, even then, his mind sinking under the pressure of disease, was still occupied with thoughts of good to man; and his last wishes—his dying as they had ever been his living aims—were, freedom to Africa, and peace to the world!

As a British senator, he had deeply explored the essential and characteristic properties of a mixed government; and upon balancing their comparative conveniences and inconveniences, he avowedly preferred them to the more simple form. Yet he was aware that, sometimes from the slow, and sometimes from the sudden operation of external circumstances, liberty may degenerate into licentiousness, and loyalty into servility; and from

him to speak, it did appear to him that all the appearances of reason, and all the probabilities of truth were on the side, not of the hierarch, but of the heresiarch.

1 When some gentleman expressed to Dr. Parr his surprise at having heard Mr. Fox say “he should be a Christian, even if the divine authority of Christianity could not be proved;”—“because,” said that gentleman, “I supposed that Mr. Fox knew little, and thought little about religion at all”—“Oh!” replied Dr. Parr with warmth, “do you think that in such a mind religion did not hold a seat, though the waves of the world rolled over it?”

temperament, as well as from reflection, he avoided, and exhorted others to avoid, both extremes.1

His claims to the glorious title of the “People’s Friend” are thus set forth:—

“Ready he was, not to irritate or delude, but to protect those fellow-subjects who are doomed to toil and die without the cheering hope of distinction. Ready he was to procure for them the attentions and aids which substantial justice would grant without reluctance, and sound policy proffer without solicitation, to their wants, their numbers, their rights from nature, and their usefulness to society. Ready he was to put their reason, their gratitude, their self-interest on the side of government, by securing for them mild and equitable treatment; and thus to soothe the galling and dismal feelings, which lurk and throb within the heart of man, from the consciousness of neglected indigence, of slighted merit, and of weakness alarmed by insult bordering upon oppression.”2

As an orator, his distinguished quality is stated to be simple and native grandeur. In the opening of his speeches, it is allowed, he was sometimes tame and uninteresting; but, as he advanced, he never failed to summon up growing strength with the growing importance of the subject. The luminousness and regularity of his premeditated speeches are acknowledged by all; and if there was an apparent neglect of method in his extemporaneous effusions, it should be remembered that, in arrangement as well as expression, genius may

1 Page 217. 2 Page 203.

sometimes “snatch a grace beyond the reach of art.” Mr. Fox, it is added, seldom put forth his strength in reply; but when he did, he showed himself well qualified to perform the arduous task.1

As a minister, it was not till the decline of life, that a short and scanty opportunity was granted him of unfolding his views, and of reducing his great principles into action: but he remained long enough in office to exhibit a mind, stored with a perfect knowledge of the complicated relations in which the British empire stood to foreign powers. Even in the few measures which he proposed, and in the spirit which he inspired both at home and abroad, he manifested the extraordinary superiority of his practical abilities; and if he had been permitted to live and to accomplish the wise and salutary plans which he had formed, what happy consequences might have been expected, instead of the multiplied and aggravated calamities that followed!2

Concerning that great and amazing event of his time, the French revolution, Mr. Fox thought that, by a wise forbearance, early adopted and steadily maintained on the part of the European states, or by a most considerate and cautious interference, if any just occasion for it offered, the licentious uproar of popular frenzy might have been hushed in the beginning of the contest—the savage triumphs of sanguinary upstarts might have been prevented—the awakened spirit of reform and improvement might have proceeded wisely and happily in its course—the constitution of

1 Pages 225. 229. 2 Page 304.

France might have been so ameliorated as to answer all the purposes of good government—and even the life of its sovereign might have been preserved, and his authority established on the basis of legitimate and limited monarchy.1

Adverting to one of the most extraordinary publications of Mr. Burke, his “Letter to the Duke of Portland,” Dr. Parr enters into a refutation of the amazing charges there exhibited against Mr. Fox, amounting some of them to no less than sedition, disloyalty, and “almost to treason.” But can such charges need refutation?—charges, opposed to all probability, and destitute of all evidence—charges, never believed in any one serious moment by any one sane person—not even by the accuser himself, except when by rage deprived of reason.2

After having directed his attention more particularly to Mr. Burke, and remarked with some severity, though with much truth and fairness, on the line of conduct which he pursued during the period of the French revolution, Dr. Parr returns once more to his great subject—dwells with fond lingerings of delight on the measures of Mr. Fox’s short administration, abruptly terminated by death—touches lightly and pathetically on the grief of his friends and the sorrows of his country, upon the saddening occasion—and closes with describing the last mournful honours of his funeral; which, though private, was yet impressively and solemnly grand.3

The series of slight details given in the few preceding pages, may serve to place before the reader,

1 Page 293. 2 Page 240, &c. 3 Page 308.

some idea of the powerful delineation of character, consecrated to the just and honourable remembrance of the patriot of England, and the friend of mankind, by one, who fervently loved and admired him; and who exposed himself surely to no imputation of unreasonable partiality, when he thought that, underneath his whole portrait, might be truly subscribed the dignified and comprehensive praise, conveyed in these words—“Uno ore ei plurimæ consentiunt gentes, populi primarium fuisse virum.”1

Turning from the first to the second, and by much the larger volume of this work, comprising five hundred pages closely printed in small letter, the reader will be surprised to find that it consists wholly of notes, and of notes upon notes, together with additional notes, and additions to notes.

Of these, the first which arrests attention, by its length and its importance, might be termed a disquisition on the state of the criminal laws in England. It occupies more than two hundred pages, and well deserved to have been given to the public as a separate treatise. It is to be lamented that an intention, which Dr. Parr had signified, of publishing it in that form, with English translations of all the passages quoted from other languages, was frustrated by his death. In that form, no doubt, it would be well received by the public; especially at a time when the spirit of inquiry is laudably directed to objects of such supreme importance, as the penal code and the due administration of justice.

It is impossible that the present writer, within

1 Page 299.

the compass to which he is confined, should convey to his readers an adequate idea of the depth of the research and extent of the information, the clearness and cogency of the reasoning, the justness and force of the observations, and the equity and humanity of the spirit, by which this treatise is distinguished. To state some of the principal points of the subject, which the reflecting and benevolent author discusses, is all that can here be attempted.

His great object, then, is to propose a complete reform of the penal code; to be effected not by a repeal of one statute after another, but by a revision of the whole. For this great purpose, it is proposed that a committee of both Houses should be appointed, to continue from year to year; consisting not of professional men only, but of other persons also, whose experience in the affairs of life is large and various, and whose minds are richly stored with that knowledge, which is supplied by the science of ethics, and the history of ancient and modern legislation.

The proposed reform is to be conducted upon the following principles:—that crimes and penalties should be more equitably proportioned; that some of the milder punishments should be softened, and others increased; that transportation, imprisonment, and hard labour, should be substituted for death, in all cases, except those of the highest offences; and that the whole code, thus reformed, should be arranged in some regular systematic order, and expressed in language, clear, precise, and intelligible to all.

It is conceived that punishments ought invariably to follow conviction of crimes; and that the one should be so proportioned to the other, as very seldom or never to require the interposition of royal clemency; of which the tendency is to weaken the authority of law, and to expose to the suspicion of injustice every sentence pronounced and not executed. But whenever it is thought right to call into exercise the royal prerogative of mitigating punishment, the reasons for it ought always to be publicly and officially stated, that it may appear to be a considerate and not a capricious act; an act of mercy fairly due to the criminal, and not of favour granted to the importunity of others.

Treason, premeditated murder, barbarous assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm, robbery and burglary attended with personal violence and cruelty, and, perhaps, one or two others, are the only crimes to be punishable with death; and most solemn and most weighty are the arguments, drawn from considerations of policy, of humanity, of equity, and of religion, which are here powerfully enforced, to show the inexpediency, the inefficacy, the cruelty, and the iniquity of shedding human blood in any case, but that of the most heinous and most dangerous offences.

Public executions, under this projected code, being extremely rare, will be, for that reason, the more awfully impressive; and to increase the effect, they ought to be conducted with the utmost publicity, with the greatest order and solemnity, in the presence of magistrates; and they should generally take place as near as may be to the spot where the crime was committed.

In cases of murder, that part of the law which requires execution within forty-eight hours after conviction, is here marked with disapprobation. As the proof of the crime usually depends upon circumstantial evidence, more or less satisfactory, it is recommended that opportunity for further inquiry should always be allowed; and if no favourable circumstances appear within a reasonable time, then, that the sentence should be carried into execution.

Against the opinion of Dr. Paley, who denies the popular maxim—“it is better for ten guilty men to escape, than for one innocent man to suffer:” a strong protest, supported by strong reasons, is here entered. In such a case, death to the innocent sufferer is to be considered, says Dr. Paley, as a misfortune, which he ought to bear resignedly; but Dr. Parr more justly terms it a dreadful wrong, of which he and every one else ought to complain loudly. For, it is most fallacious to contend, that the whole question lies between the individual and the community; since when one innocent man suffers, all others are endangered; or at least disturbed in that sense of personal security, which is the greatest blessing the social state has to offer.

In cases of crimes to which discretionary punishment is annexed, it is proposed, that the measure of it should be determined by the jury, and not by the judge. For surely the law, it is remarked, may be so well explained by the court, and so well understood by the jury, as to qualify them for apportioning the punishment, when they have pronounced the verdict.

It is absolutely necessary, to the due administration of justice, as here strongly asserted, that a place of refuge, and the means of employment should in all cases be found for criminals, set at liberty; and of course sent back to society, stamped with that ignominy, which excludes them from all honest occupation. Without some provision of that kind, is it possible that criminals should be withheld from repeating the same offence, or committing others in succession, without end? Necessity is above all law, and mocks at all dangers.

Great stress is here laid upon the importance of a vigilant and active police; and above all, upon the due promulgation of laws. Statutes, recently enacted, it is proposed, should be read by every minister to his congregation, at the end of every parliamentary session; and a judicious abridgment of the whole code should, at certain times, be printed; and copies placed for public reading, or individual perusal, in all churches and chapels. Religious discourses, adapted to the occasion, should always accompany the public recitation of the laws.

Such is a slight and imperfect analysis of an admirable disquisition, on one of the most important subjects, that can engage the attention of moral and social beings. In the course of it, Dr. Parr not only delivers his own opinion, but constantly appeals to the authority of several great names—names in this connexion, so truly endeared to every lover of mankind—Sir Thomas More, Erasmus, Beccaria, Voltaire, Eden, Dagge, Johnson, Bentham, Bradford, Romilly, and Basil Montagu.

With the labours of these distinguished men, in a cause, above all others, sacred to justice and humanity, Dr. Parr has thus associated his own; and has united the sanction of his name, and the force of his reasoning, with theirs, in recommending, instead of a severe and sanguinary code, the infinitely preferable system of mild and lenient government, of which the advantages are summed up by himself, with impressive effect, in the following beautiful passage:—

“Oh, my friend! this celestial virtue—lenity in the exercise of judicial power—brings with it blessings innumerable and inestimable. It soothes the unquiet, and charms the benevolent. It is welcomed as an appeal to the good sense and the gratitude of mankind, rather than their fears. It calls forth our admiration, reverence and affection; and binds our judgment and our hearts to the seat of justice, and to the throne of majesty. It is ascribed to conscious integrity, reposing on its own substantial worth, and to conscious strength, disdaining alike to seek and to accept any foreign succour.”1

Amidst a vast variety of notes, consisting of quotations from ancient and modern authors, besides the lengthened note on the penal laws, a second, nearly as long, occurs, extending through one hundred and eighty pages, of which the subject is, a review of Mr. Fox’s unfinished work, entitled “History of the early part of the Reign of

1 Page 386.

James II.” It begins with some remarks on the style; which, though highly perspicuous and forcible, and adorned with all the charms of simple elegance, is yet sometimes injured, it is said, by the admission of low and familiar expressions, inconsistent with the dignity of historic composition. But if some defects may be imputed to the diction, or to the arrangement, of Mr. Fox’s history, the most unqualified praise is here given to him, for the manner in which he has performed the higher and more important duty of a faithful historian. Nothing can exceed his anxious endeavour to discover the truth of facts for himself; nor his scrupulous care to present it fairly and fully to his readers. In this respect, all must own, he has discharged his trust with ability rarely equalled, and with fidelity never surpassed. The chief excellence, however, the peculiar and inestimable value of Mr. Fox’s historical work, consists, it is here stated, in its being an authentic record of all those wise maxims of policy, and those just and noble principles of liberty, which he adopted and uniformly maintained; and which have established for him the character of one of the greatest, the best, the most enlightened and truly patriotic statesmen, that ever appeared on the stage of public affairs, in any age, or any country of the world.

A large part of this second long note is occupied with remarks, in reply to the animadversions of the British Critic on the principles and conduct of Mr. Fox, as well as on his historical work: some of which, however, are quite unworthy of any reply from Dr. Parr, or from any one else. For surely this at least may be said of the base insinuation, that Mr. Fox “approved the principle of assassination, and first avowed it after his honourable reception at the Tuileries.” Such an insinuation might well have been left in quiet possession of its rightful privilege, “that of being repeated only by the malevolent, and believed only by the very weak and the very prejudiced.”1

In order to complete the view of Dr. Parr’s literary labours, given in these pages, the titles of two other publications, in which he was concerned, are here subjoined.

The first is a reprint of five metaphysical tracts.—1. “A Demonstration of the impossibility of an External World,” by Arthur Collier.—2. “A Discourse on Gen. i. 1,” by the same.—.3. “Man in search of himself,” by Abraham Tucker.—4. “Conjecturæ de sensu, motu, et idearum generalione,” Dav. Hartley auctore.—5. “Enquiry on the origin of the Human Appetites and Affections.”

These treatises were printed more than twenty years ago; and it was Dr. Parr’s intention to publish them, with a preface, as he thus announces to his friend, Mr. Roscoe: “With all the difficulties which impede me, in throwing my thoughts on paper, I shall venture to sit down and write a preface to some metaphysical tracts, which I have reprinted, and which are likely to be not uninteresting to such readers as yourself.” This intention, however, was never fulfilled; and the whole impression still remains in the printer’s warehouse.

1 Page 208.

The other publication edited by Dr. Parr consists of four sermons:—1. A Sermon preached at Bishop-Stortford on the anniversary of the school-feast, by Dr. John Taylor. 2. A Fast Sermon before the House of Commons, 1757, by the same. 3. A Visitation Sermon, preached at Durham, by Bishop Lowth. 4. A Sermon before the Lords, January 30th, 1749, by Bishop Hayter.

“Taylor’s sermons,” says Dr. Parr, “are masterly, indeed, both in the matter and the composition; and show the goodness of his head, the soundness of his judgment, and the elegance and vigour of his English style.”

Bishop Lowth’s sermon at Durham was once well known and very celebrated. It afterwards became extremely scarce. It is an admirable discourse, written in the spirit of enlightened wisdom, virtue and piety, on the importance of promoting religious knowledge, Christian charity, and moral purity, as connected with the support and progress of Christianity in the world. It well deserves the sanction, which it has here received, of Dr. Parr’s approbation.

“Of the amiable and venerable Bishop Hayter, who was for some time preceptor to George III.,” says Dr. Parr, “scarcely any vestiges remain. The sermon now republished strongly marks the correctness of his judgment, the delicacy of his taste, the candour of his spirit, and the soundness of his opinions on morals, politics, and religion.”

CHAPTER IV. A.D. 1809—1812. Dr. Parr’s attention to the administration of justice—His compassionate concern for criminals—His forbearance to prosecute—His exertions to mitigate severity of punishment—His visits to Warwick gaol—His attendance on the condemned—His care to provide for the defence of the accused—Case of a clergyman tried for murder—Of another clergyman capitally accused—Case of a youthful pilferer, stated in a letter to Mr. Roscoe.

On the subject of the penal code—a subject of such paramount importance to every civilised community—Dr. Parr has offered to the public the fruit of much careful reading, much close observation, and much deep reflection, in the long and valuable disquisition, of which some account is given in the preceding chapter. No subject, indeed, more frequently engaged his attention; or excited in his mind, whenever adverted to, stronger emotions of sorrow and indignation. “Is it possible,” he would say, “for any reflecting and benevolent person, without shame and grief, and even horror, to examine a statute-book like ours?—where death is commissioned to keep the keys of so many cells, and to shake a dreadful dart in so many directions.” Happily, however, the fact is, that common reason and equity wage a perpetual war with the positive institutions of the land; that the malefactors, annually executed, fall far short of the number annually condemned; and that thus the barbarous spirit of law is powerfully controlled by the just and humane spirit of the times. In full accordance with that spirit, directed to so great and good an object, Dr. Parr was always watchful of every opportunity to correct or to palliate, as far as individual exertions can, the wrongs and mischiefs which he so deeply deplored.

He often complained that the higher orders did not yet sufficiently sympathise with the lower, at the sight of evils, which little affect themselves; and that growing wealth and luxury have produced, among all ranks, an unfeeling temper towards the crowds of miserable beings, who are driven by want to crime; and who ought, therefore, to be regarded as more unfortunate than guilty. Considering the strong and almost irresistible temptations, to which the poor and destitute are left exposed, he looked upon many a criminal, doomed by the law to die, “as far less sinning than sinned against;” and when he heard of such an one being led to execution, he would sometimes repeat the words, which the pious and excellent Boerhaave is said to have uttered on similar occasions: “May not this man be better than I?”1

1 “On the days, when the prisons of this great city are emptied into the grave, let every spectator of the dreadful procession put the same question to his own heart—May not this man be less culpable than I am? For who can congratulate himself upon a life, passed without some act more mischievous to the peace and prosperity of others, than the theft of a piece of money?”—Johnson’s Rambler, No. 114.

Impressed with these sentiments of compassionate concern for unhappy criminals, and shuddering at the cruel and remorseless spirit of English law, Dr. Parr adopted a course, which many would think a dereliction of public duty, by declining, in his own case, to prosecute, and by inducing others, in similar circumstances, to exercise the same forbearance. In justification of himself, however, he could appeal to the authority of Dr. Johnson, who observes, “that the necessity of submitting the conscience to human laws is not so plainly evinced, nor so generally allowed, but that the pious, the tender, and the just will always scruple to concur with them, in an act, which private judgment condemns.”1—Dr. Parr thus feelingly and forcibly explains his own sentiments, in reference to his own conduct:

“Three times, let me confess, I have suffered the most painful struggles, between the sense of private and public duty; and three times, dreading the severity of our laws, I have yielded to my humanity conspiring with my reason, when they forbad me, without real necessity, to shed the blood even of the unrighteous. One of the offenders, after leaving my family, ventured upon other crimes in other places; a second, by my suggestion, entered into the army: I have not been able to trace the conduct of the third. But under a deep conviction of my responsibility to the tribunal of Heaven I shall ever look back with approbation to my forbearance.”2

In cases of capital conviction, if circumstances

1 Rambler, No. 114. 2 Characters of Fox, p. 402.

of extenuation came to his knowledge, Dr. Parr did not, like too many, pity and slumber; but he instantly and strenuously exerted his endeavours to procure remission of the last dreadful penalty, which human laws can inflict. Among severed instances, within the writer’s recollection, one is related by Dr. Parr himself, as occurring whilst he resided at Norwich; when, in consequence of a powerful appeal, addressed to the Duke of Portland, a respite was granted, which was speedily followed by a free pardon. It was ever afterwards pleasing to him to reflect that the act of grace, thus obtained, was well-deserved and well-requited.

“Eagerly do I embrace this opportunity,” says Dr. Parr, “of paying a public and grateful testimony to the memory of an illustrious person, lately deceased. Disregarding the difference of our political sentiments, he, at my request, gave the fullest effect to my exertions for saving an unfortunate person, who had committed the crime for which he was on the point of suffering death, but was guiltless of some aggravations, hastily imputed to him; and who, by the diligence, the sobriety and honesty, which he has uniformly manifested for the space of twenty-five years from the time of his liberation, has fully justified the opinion I had entertained of him, and amply repaid to society the mercy shown him by the executive government.”1

During the earlier periods of his residence at Hatton, Dr. Parr was accustomed frequently to

1 Characters of Fox, p. 464.

visit the county-jail at Warwick; exploring those abodes of human misery and vice, in search of opportunities for the exercise of his ardent and active humanity. At that time, the state of prisons became an object of serious attention to the parliament and the public, in consequence of the representations and remonstrances of the benevolent Howard—so gloriously immortalised as the “prisoner’s friend;” and, no doubt, in Dr. Parr’s frequent visits to Warwick jail, he would mark with an observant eye, and watch with a lively interest, the progress of those improvements in its arrangement and discipline, which, then commencing, have since been carried here, and also in every part of England, to an extent, gratifying to humanity, and honourable to the country. His most anxious inquiries, however, were directed to the cases of the prisoners; of such, in particular, as might be in any way recommended to his notice; and he was always glad to impart, wherever it was desired or needed, his advice or his admonition, his encouragement or his bounty.

But it was to the deplorable case of condemned convicts, to which his attention was most of all attracted; and for these so strongly were his sympathetic feelings excited, as often to destroy for a time all the peace and composure of his own mind. “Ah!” he would say, “had I pronounced the ‘dreadful notes’ of a sentence which I heard this morning, it would have torn my heart with anguish; and the recollection of it would have disturbed my slumbers for weeks, months, and years.” On one occasion, when, in the assize-court of Warwick, his “soul had been harrowed up” by the sound of “those dreadful notes,” instantly turning to a friend who was with him, and hastening away, he said—“Come! let us go out of this slaughter-house!”1

But, agonised as were his feelings, when he beheld man doomed by his fellow-man to die—and that, too, as he thought sometimes rashly and unwarrantably—yet these feelings were absorbed in compassion for human wretchedness, and in the desire of administering the soothing comforts, which kind sympathy and religious hope afford, in the last and worst extremities. For many years, therefore, Dr. Parr imposed upon himself the task, however painful, of visiting, advising, and consoling, in the gloomy dungeons of Warwick jail, the miserable beings, awaiting their awful fate from the hand of the executioner. Thus he describes his own feelings and reflections, on these distressing occasions:—

“Such are the fixed and serious sentiments of one, who for many years has been an attentive observer of judicial proceedings; of one, who is no stranger to the pleas, usually urged for the rigour of our laws; of one, who has thought it the charitable duty of his order to prepare malefactors for eternity, by lessons of resignation and repentance; of one who, while he soothed them by consolation, when they were about to taste the bitterness of death, rarely failed to explore the deepest recesses of their hearts; of one who, upon a view of all circumstances, has been yet more

1 New Monthly Mag. May, 1805.

rarely satisfied with the justice of that sentence, which doomed his fellow-creatures to die—to go, they knew not whither—to be sent to their last account, with all their imperfections on their head,—when, from the scantiness of their education, the untowardness of their habits, the inquietude of their spirits, and the shortened span of their existence, little or no reckoning could be made. Oh! horrible!—most horrible!”1

In the discharge of his painful office, dreadful was the example of human obduracy, which he was sometimes forced to witness; produced, as he always maintained, by the combined effects of laws too severe, of a police too remiss, and of moral discipline and instruction, especially in the case of young offenders, either insufficiently applied, or wholly neglected. Speaking of one, who had been capitally convicted and executed—upon whom he had bestowed much pious care with little apparent success, but who had met his fate with an intrepidity which passed with the spectators for fortitude—he remarked, that “his intrepidity was without the calmness of resignation, and without the sanctity of repentance; and yet there were some loose and floating notions of virtue.”—Another lamentable case is thus described by himself:—

“A recent instance of deplorable obduracy has fallen within my notice. A youth of twenty-two had deserted more than once, and betook himself to robbery. He anticipated death, as the probable punishment of his thievery or his desertion. He

1 Characters of Fox, Notes, p. 358.

neither cared, nor professed to care, at what time, or in what manner, it might overtake him. He despaired. He plundered: He defied the wrath of man. He frowned at the mention of God. He laughed at a violent death, as the affair of a moment; and without showing the smallest symptoms of shame, or compunction, or terror, he underwent the sentence of the law. Thus was he cut off from existence, at a time when, from his youth and his strength, he might have been compelled to be useful; and he was hurried into eternity, for which he was but little prepared. Are these light considerations? He must be something more, or something less than man, who would dare to call them so.”1

The reader will probably recollect the deep interest which Dr. Parr felt in the case of a man of much excellence of character, who was hurried, in a moment of sudden irritation, into a crime, for which he suffered death—as related in a former part of the present work.2 To this unhappy individual, there is an affecting allusion in the following passage:—

“To a very enlightened man, who thought himself unjustly condemned, I had occasion to state the principle of submission to private wrong for public good, and to enforce it by the example of Socrates, and other examples, yet more sacred; and I pressed them with so much earnestness, as to prevent an act of suicide, which my unhappy friend was determined to perpetrate, on the morn-

1 Characters of Fox, Notes, p. 394. 2 Vol. i. p. 373.

ing of his execution. ‘Memoriam quoque ipsam cum voce perdidissemus, si tam oblivisci in nostra potestate esset, quam tacere.’ That silence I have hitherto preserved upon an event most afflicting to my soul; and I have now found a proper opportunity for breaking it.”1

Dr. Parr’s anxiety to perform with due effect the benevolent office, which, on these melancholy occasions, he took upon himself, is apparent in the following passage:—

“Some years ago,” says he, “when I was accustomed to visit persons under sentence of death, I often felt the want of a proper service. I could not persuade myself to read some prayers, and some exhortations, which I found in books. They seemed to me either unintelligible or unprofitable to offenders, whether obdurate or penitent. I cannot help wishing, therefore, that a form of prayer, annexed to the old Irish Prayer Book, may be introduced by authority into the English Prayer Book. The topics are, indeed, very pertinent; the language is simple and solemn; and a spirit of the most rational and most pure devotion prevails through the whole.”2

After the short detail now given, the reader may easily conceive the high satisfaction with which Dr. Parr hailed an event, bearing a most favourable aspect upon a cause, which lay so near his heart. This was the formation of a society, the professed object of which is, “the diffusion of knowledge respecting the punishment of death, and the improvement of prison discipline.” Of

1 Characters of Fox, Notes, p. 411. 2 Ibid. p. 707.

this society, Dr. Parr immediately became a member; and he bequeathed to it the sum of nineteen guineas at his death. Amongst its most ardent and active members conspicuously appears Basil Montagu, Esq., whose name has already been mentioned in these pages, and to whom Dr. Parr has borne honourable testimony in the following terms:—

“My very ingenious and benevolent friend, Mr. Basil Montagu, has sent to the press a large collection of the opinions, which many distinguished writers upon the penal code of England and other countries have delivered, in recommendation of other punishments, as substituted for death. He has been much commended, I am told, by professional men, for his publications on subjects connected with the studies and duties of his profession. I esteem him highly for his literary attainments and personal virtues. Gladly, too, would any advocate for the reform of the penal code acknowledge such a man as συνεργον του χόπου της αγαπης.”1

In our courts of justice is sometimes exhibited a spectacle, from which Dr. Parr always turned with disgust and dismay. It is when a whole sable tribe of lawyers appear arrayed, on the side of a criminal prosecution, against a friendless individual, unsupported by a single legal adviser. It is true, in such cases the presiding judge is presumed to sustain the office of counsel for the prisoner. But, with the humane and judicious Blackstone, Dr. Parr always thought the express appointment of an advocate to conduct the de-

1 Characters of Fox, p. 799.

fence, in this case, so essential to the fair administration of justice, as to demand the interposition of the legislature. In order to supply that serious deficiency, it is well known that, on many occasions, Dr. Parr procured legal advice, at his own expense, for those who could not procure it for themselves. One or two instances occur to the writer’s recollection.

At the Warwick assizes, in the spring of 1812, a clergyman of the Church of England, who had long resided in that town, and who was subject to fits of derangement, was tried for shooting the servant girl of the house, in which he lodged. The public feeling was strongly excited against him; and it was most important to provide for his defence, in the best possible manner. He had some small property, but no command of present supplies; and no one seemed willing to advance the necessary sums, as it was supposed there would be much uncertainty or difficulty in obtaining repayment. At length the unfortunate case was stated to Dr. Parr, who instantly and eagerly ordered the best legal advice to be secured; desired that no expense should be spared; and declared himself responsible 1 for the whole amount, which exceeded 100l. That sum he paid on demand. The unhappy man was acquitted on the plea of insanity; and at a subsequent, though somewhat distant period, the money was repaid by his trustees.

1 “Ille se interposuit; pecuniamque sine fœnore, sine ulla stipulatione, credidit. Ita aperuit se non fortunæ sed hominibus, solere esse amicum.”—Corn. Nepos.

Oh a still later occasion, another clergyman was tried at Warwick assizes, capitally charged with a heinous and revolting crime. The popular indignation was high and clamorous; and the accused was wholly destitute of the means of providing for his own defence. But no sooner was the case made known to Dr. Parr than, with all his usual ardour, he interposed, and generously advanced the sum required. “Horror of crime,” he said on that occasion, “can never destroy the claims of justice, and ought never to extinguish the feelings of humanity. Every accused person, whether guilty or not, ought, in the means of defending himself, to be put upon a level with his accusers; especially where the laws are so remorseless, and the penalty so dreadful.”—It should be added that, of the persons benefited, in the two instances now referred to, the former was but slightly known to Dr. Parr, and the latter entirely unknown.

The case of an unfortunate youth, guilty of petty theft, is related by Dr. Parr, with all the warm feelings of compassionate concern so peculiarly characteristic, in the following letter to Mr. Roscoe:—

“Dear and most esteemed Mr. Roscoe—The bearer is an Irish lad, who has no friend in the world, or the world’s law. He is about twenty years old. He was brought into my neighbourhood by his parents, who have deserted him. He was unknown; he was unassisted; he was unemployed. In danger of starving, he, on Thursday night, opened the door of my carriage, which was at an inn in Leamington. He found in it a pair of gaiters, a large coachman’s great-coat, and a small great-coat. He took away the small great-coat. The robbery was discovered late at night; and the proprietor of the inn the next morning began to inquire. He traced the offender to a neighbouring village. He seized and secured him; and the poor wretch immediately confessed his crime; and conducted his pursuer, who was the constable, to the house of a country tailor, with whom he had left the coat to be mended. Last night the constable came to me for orders. I heard the story with anguish. My servant shall not prosecute. The constable is compelled to bring the poor creature before a justice; and I am endeavouring, by previous communication with his worship, to stop further proceedings, that the poor fellow may not be sent to jail. Ample is the punishment already inflicted by menaces, reproaches, and confinement in a dark. room. His terrors, I am told, are unexampled. If I can manage with the justice, I shall pay his passage to Liverpool, when all must depend on your humane protection. Pray have him sent forward to Ireland; and, like the Samaritan, I will pay you what is laid out when I go your way again, or before. I must take this letter with me to Warwick. My spirits are disturbed by this affair; and my house is beset by those, who are come to me about it.——My dear friend, I add a line or two just to say that I have rescued the poor creature from the gripe of the law. I commend him to the mercy of God, and to you as the instrument of that mercy. Accept my best wishes to all who are near and dear to you. I am, most unfeignedly, respectfully, and affectionately, your friend.—

S. Parr.”

CHAPTER V. A.D. 1810—1813. Death of Mrs. Parr—Her character—Marriage of Miss Parr—Her family—Her death—Her character—Dr. Parr’s letter to Mr. Roscoe on the occasion—His disunion with his son-in-law—Their reconciliation—A second separation—Dr. Parr’s letters to his grand-daughters.

The year 1810 was marked by a succession of melancholy events, in the family of Dr. Parr. The first was the death of his wife, the consequence, it was believed, of excessive fatigue and anxiety in attending upon her eldest and only surviving daughter; whose health had been for some time in a declining state; and who was then residing, for the benefit of sea-air, at Teignmouth in Devonshire. Mrs. Parr’s presence had been required on a trial, at Shrewsbury assizes; and the hurry and exhaustion of a rapid journey from Teignmouth to that town, and from Shrewsbury back to her charge at Teignmouth, was followed by a sudden illness; which, within a few days, terminated fatally, on April 9, 1810.

In the course of her late journey, Mrs. Parr was met by Dr. Parr at Birmingham. Their short interview was affecting in the extreme; rendered so by the weight of their domestic sorrows; and they bade each other adieu, little supposing that that farewell would be their last! Though, from great unsuitableness of temper, their union was not happy; yet Mrs. Parr unquestionably felt a sincere regard for the honour and the interest of her husband: and if she was too quick in noticing, and too severe in upbraiding his foibles, she could not be insensible to the extraordinary merits, which obtained for him the admiration, and attached to him the affection, of so many good and enlightened men, in all classes of the community. On his part, he often spoke, with pride and pleasure, of the strength of her understanding,1 the independence of her spirit, and of the grace and dignity of her manners, which were remarkably such as distinguish persons of superior birth and station.

Of her family and her education, Dr. Parr has himself given the following account:2—“Her grandmother was Mrs. Mauleverer, widow of Thomas Mauleverer, Esq. of Arncliffe, Yorkshire, whose maiden name was Hodgkinson; and who belonged to a very ancient and respectable family in the north of England. Her mother was Mrs. Marsingale. She died in childbed of her only daughter, Jane, whom Dr. Parr married in Nov. 1771. The widow Mauleverer, her grandmother, was a very well-informed, well-bred lady, and a most exemplary Christian. She, during her widowhood, lived and died at Darlington, in the county of Durham, where she treated her motherless grand-daughter, Jane, with the greatest kind-

1 “Priestley’s Theological Repository, 6 vols.—These six volumes were given by Dr. Priestley to my late sagacious and serious wife, Jane Parr. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 87.

2 In a manuscript in the writer’s possession.

ness; bestowed upon her a good education; set her a good example; and, upon her death, bequeathed to her a legacy of 700l.”

Much kind feeling towards his wife breathes in the tender pathos of the following passage, written by Dr. Parr on the death of his younger daughter. It touchingly describes the sorrows of a parent bereaved of the object of her fond affection; and bears witness to the fidelity and tenderness, with which she had fulfilled the obligations of maternal love and duty. “Her afflicted mother, of whom she was the constant and beloved companion, and round the fibres of whose heart she was closely entwined, weeps, like Rachel, mourning for her child, and refusing to be comforted because she is not.”

Mrs. Parr was buried in the chancel of Hatton church; but there was no sepulchral memorial of her, till, in 1826, her name, and the dates of her birth and death, were engraven, according to Dr. Parr’s orders, on the same marble tablet which records his own.

Scarcely had the grave closed over the remains of Mrs. Parr, when it was opened a second, and again a third time, to receive those of her granddaughter and her daughter. Miss Sarah-Anne Parr had been married, in 1797, to John, the eldest son of Colonel Wynne of Plasnewydd, in Denbighshire. At the time of his marriage, he was one of Dr. Parr’s pupils; and as he was then in his minority, it was, what is termed, “a stolen match.” It proved, as was generally augured at the time, an unhappy union; and, in a few years, a separation was the consequence. The issue of the marriage was three daughters, Caroline Sobieski, Augusta-Eliza, and Madelina. On the birth of the third, which took place after the separation, an attempt was made, on the part of the lady, to obtain an interview, with the hope of effecting a reunion with her husband. But the attempt failed; and this and other disappointments, to which she was afterwards subjected, together with the loss of her mother and her daughter, so affected her declining health, as to hasten her dissolution. She breathed her last at Hatton, July 8, 1810.

Thus, within the space of three months, it was the melancholy fate of Dr. Parr to follow to the grave his wife, his daughter, and his granddaughter; and who but must acknowledge there was some justice in the severity of the remark to his friend, Mrs. Edwards, when he received from the herald’s-office a description of the Wynne family-arms, with the view of erecting a hatchment in honour of his deceased daughter? On observing that these armorial-bearings were “six bees,” he mournfully exclaimed—“Ah! Hannah, my family never partook of the honey of the hive; but the wound they gave was the sting of death.”

Mrs. Wynne was greatly admired for the vigour of her understanding, the brilliancy of her imagination, the keenness of her wit, and the powers of her conversation. She acquired, by reading the best English and French authors, a considerable store of knowledge, useful and ornamental; and what she wrote was written with much ease, elegance, and spirit. She possessed extraordinary talent in discriminating characters, and pourtraying the excellencies which adorned them; and still more in exposing and satirising the peculiarities and foibles1 by which they were in any degree marked. She was the pride of her father’s heart; and over her loss, as she was the last of his family, he long and deeply mourned. He had a picture taken of her after her death, as she lay in her coffin. It was a distressing likeness; and he was wont to gaze on it, with a sigh, to the last. It hung for many years in the drawing-room; but some time before his death, to the great relief of all his friends and visitors, it was removed.

The following tribute to the memory of his last surviving daughter, from the pen of her afflicted father, appeared in the Gentleman’s Magazine, August, 1810:—

“At Hatton, near Warwick, died, in the thirty-eighth year of her age, Mrs. Sarah-Anne Wynne, the only remaining daughter of the Rev. Dr. Parr. The brilliancy of her imagery in conversation and writing; the readiness, gaiety, and fertility of her wit; the acuteness of her observation on men and things; the variety of her knowledge upon the most familiar and most profound subjects were

1 See in App. No. VII. a sportive effusion of Mrs. Wynne, humorously rallying her father’s habit of affecting mysterious secrecy on trifling subjects. It was occasioned by his conducting a friend, with much form, into a retired apartment, for the purpose of making, as he said, some very important and very confidential communication. It was written during their absence; and delivered to that friend, on his return with Dr. Parr, to the rest of the company.

very remarkable. They, who lived with her on terms of intimacy, were again and again struck with admiration, at the rapidity, ease, vivacity, and elegance of her epistolary compositions. Whether upon lively or serious topics, they were always adapted to the occasion; they were always free from the slightest taint of affected phraseology and foreign idiom; they were always distinguished by a peculiar felicity and originality of conception and expression; and the genius displayed in them would undoubtedly have placed the writer in the highest class of her female contemporaries, if she had employed her pen upon any work, with a deliberate view to publication. Her reading in the most approved authors was diversified and extensive; her memory was prompt and correct; and her judgment, upon all questions of taste and literature, morality, and religion, evidently marked the powers with which she was gifted by nature, and the advantages which she had enjoyed for cultivating those powers, under the direction of enlightened parents, and in the society of learned men, to which she had access from her infancy. With becoming resignation to the will of Heaven, she endured a long and painful illness, which had been brought upon her by the pressure of domestic sorrow, on a constitution naturally weak. Her virtues as a friend, a child, a wife, and a mother, were most exemplary; and her piety being sincere, rational, and habitual, gave additional value to the great faculties of her understanding and the generous feelings of her heart.”

Writing to his friend, Mr. Roscoe, he thus un-bosoms to him the grief, which, at this time, weighed on his heart:—

“Dear and much respected Mr. Roscoe,—For these two years, my mind has had no peace; and when you consider the severity, number, and rapid succession of the calamities, which have befallen me in domestic life, you will not wonder at the poignancy of my anguish. From change of scene, and the society of friends, I have derived some consolation: but my feelings are wounded; my kindest intentions have been frustrated; and, through the remainder of my existence, I have only to look for precarious and temporary mitigations of sorrow. You, dear sir, can understand the wretchedness of my situation; and from you I confidently expect sincere and soothing sympathy. I often think of you—often talk of you; and had it been possible, I should have proceeded onward from Shrewsbury to Liverpool. But my spirits were much disturbed about two grand-children, whose happiness is most dear to me; and I was under the necessity of returning, in order to make some arrangements for their welfare. I am anxious to discharge those sacred duties to them, which are imposed upon me by my own deep and unfeigned sense of right, and by the dying request of a most tender mother and a most dutiful daughter.

“Yours, &c. “S. P.” “October 4, 1810.”

An event, long desired by the friends of Dr. Parr, and most important to the young relatives, for whose welfare he expressed so much solicitude in the above letter, at length took place. This was a reconciliation between himself and his son-in-law, effected by the kind interference of the tried and faithful friend of the family, Mrs. Edwards; who thus repaid her great obligations to the parents, by the most devoted attachment to the interests of their grand-children. Uncertain about their precise situation at the time, she took a journey to Chester, for the sole purpose of inquiry; and there she had the good fortune to obtain the desired information. On her return home, she wrote to their father and his family, stating to them her views and wishes; and at the same time pleaded their cause so well with Dr. Parr himself, that conciliatory letters were exchanged; and Mr. Wynne and his daughters arrived at Hatton-parsonage at Christmas, 1812.

Great were the rejoicings, and many the festive entertainments, at Hatton-parsonage, and among the friends of Dr. Parr in the surrounding neighbourhood, on the happy occasion. Few, who were present, can easily forget the somewhat over-acted solemnity with which a goblet of spiced wine was introduced by Dr. Parr, with a kind of benediction, as the cup of reconciliation; and, after a suitable address, handed round to the company. Alas! who could have predicted what happened?—that within one short month, the reunion thus attested was, by a deplorable misunderstanding, dissolved for ever! Previously to this unhappy separation, Dr. Parr presented some family watches and other gifts to his grand-daughters, accompanied by a letter, addressed to each, in which the fol-lowing fervent expressions of paternal solicitude and affection occur:—

“Your mother, foreseeing her approaching dissolution, requested that I would give this watch to her daughter Caroline. I now perform the sacred duty which she imposed upon me. I give it you, my dearest grand-daughter; I trust that you will value it as it deserves to be valued. I earnestly entreat you never to part with it; but to keep it for the sake of your grandmother, who loved you—of her grandmother, by whom she was herself beloved—of me, your grandfather, by whom you are loved most tenderly; and above all, of your own most affectionate mother. My dear grand-daughter Caroline, I give the watch to you on Christmas-day, with the hope that this circumstance will make a deep, lasting and solemn impression on your ingenuous mind; and I pray God Almighty to bless you, your sister, and your father. Preserve this letter as long as you live; and read it often and seriously. From just respect to the memory of the dead, and tender regard for the living, I shall have the watch accompanied by some additional presents. Keep them for my sake. Caroline, at no very distant time, and, perhaps, before you visit me again at Hatton, I may be called to another world; and the hand which writes this may be in the cold and silent grave, near the remains of your aunt Catherine, your grandmother, your sister Madelina, and your mother. May God’s will be done! and may we all meet together in heaven! Caroline, dear Caroline, wheresoever I live, and whensoever I die, it will be found that you had a most considerate and affectionate friend in your grandfather.—

S. Parr.”

Nearly the same expressions occur in the letter which was at the same time addressed to her younger sister, accompanied with another watch, “which,” says the writer, “my dear Catherine, on her death-bed, desired, at a proper time, might be given to you, as a mark of her regard; and, as her affectionate father, and your faithful friend, I now perform the sacred duty she imposed upon me,” &c.

Dr. Parr took leave of his grand-daughters, who were torn from him, in consequence of the unhappy misunderstanding, to which allusion has just been made,in the following note:—“I observe, and, for your sake, I lament the present state of things between your father and myself; because it is very different from that which existed when, in the sincere and tender affection of my soul, I wrote to you my letters. I pray God to bless and preserve you.—S. P.”

CHAPTER VI. A.D. 1811—1815. Death of Dr. Raine—His character—Monumental inscription for him—Dr. Parr’s opinion of the public schools—Death of Dr. White—His literary labours—His celebrated Bampton Lectures—Death of Mr. Dealtry—His character—Death of the Duke of Norfolk—His political character—Death of Mr. W. Lunn—Dr. Parr’s address to the public in behalf of his family.

Towards the end of the year 1811, an event took place, deeply lamented by Dr. Parr, and by all the friends and patrons of public education, in the death of the Rev. Matthew Raine, D.D., for twenty years head-master of the Charter-house School. With ample stores of sound and elegant literature, he united unwearied diligence in communicating instruction to his pupils; and with the authority of a master blended the benignity of a parent. As a man, a Christian, a clergyman, and an Englishman, piety, integrity, benevolence, mildness of temper, and gentleness of manner, zeal tempered by candour in the pursuit and profession of religious truth, and the most devoted attachment to the pure principles of the British constitution, conspired to form in him a character of high and attractive excellence. Having announced his intention of retiring from the station, which he had so long held, honourably to himself and beneficially to others, he was presented to the living of Halling-bury, in Essex; and he was at the same time elected to the office of their preacher by the Society of Gray’s Inn. But whilst contemplating this change of situation, he was suddenly seized with a fever, which, in the space of three days, terminated fatally.

During the Christmas of 1809, Dr. Raine, accompanied by his brother, Jonathan Raine, Esq. M.P. for Newport, and by some other friends, passed three or four weeks at Leamington Spa, distant about five miles from Hatton. This visit afforded opportunities for several agreeable interviews between himself and Dr. Parr, by whom he had been long known and greatly esteemed. Alas! too soon after this pleasing intercourse, Dr. Parr was called to perform the melancholy task of expressing the high sense he entertained of his various merits, in the form of an inscription for a monumental tablet—consecrated to the memory of their beloved and honoured tutor by his grateful pupils, and erected in the chapel of the Charterhouse.1

The great public institutions for education in this country, over one of which Dr. Raine had so long presided, were always the objects of much anxious attention to Dr. Parr; and he watched their flourishing or declining state, with strong emotions of joy or sorrow. Even amidst the solemnities of his last will, his mind once more recurs to the subject which had so often occupied his thoughts; and having respectfully named the most distinguished preceptors of his time to the number

1 See App. No. II.

of twelve or fourteen, leaving to each a mourning ring, he adds, “which I hope they will accept as a mark of my high regard for their literary attainments, and of my well-founded and unalterable attachment to the cause of public education, as conducted in the public schools of this kingdom.”

As the character of every seminary must depend principally upon that of the masters, it was always a source of great satisfaction to Dr. Parr, to observe that those at the head of the public schools, during his time, were in general some of the ablest and most learned men to be found in the kingdom. “It was consoling,” he often said, “to reflect that private interest and court favour, which have intruded, with unhallowed step, almost every where else, have not yet presumed to enter within the precincts of our public seminaries; and that personal and literary merit has generally prevailed in the election of those, to whom the interests of learning for generations to come are committed.” He thought that these schools still maintained undiminished their long-established reputation; and still largely contributed to the diffusion of classical literature, in its purest and best form, among the professional and superior orders of the community. He would often remark, with exulting pleasure, that there is now even more Greek learning in this country than formerly; and that many Greek scholars have appeared in later times, who, in his youthful days, would have been regarded as prodigies. Adverting to the comparative state of ancient and modern literature, as con-nected with academical institutions, he thus expresses himself:—

“As to the merits of men, ingenious, learned, eminently great, or exemplarily good, who in past ages have gone forth from learned retreats into the wide circle of society, pleni sunt omnes libri, plena exemplorum vetustas. But even in later times, the torpor of old age has not crept upon them; the sorceries of indolence have not enfeebled them; the poison of luxury has not corrupted them; the foul mists of barbarism have not gathered over them; the baleful light of superstition has not glimmered round them; the portentous meteors of infidelity have not glared upon them. No! for among those who have issued from our schools and universities, I recollect with triumph the names of many, who, during my lifetime have been distinguished by classical, oriental, theological or mathematical knowledge, by professional skill or parliamentary abilities. Their pursuits, indeed, are not similar; nor their talents equal. Some instruct, and others please. Some excel in solidity of judgment, and others in splendour of imagination. Some are known by their eloquence; others, by their writings: and few, perhaps, have been content to exercise their powers only in academical contests or literary conversations. But they have all obtained distinction among their contemporaries; and many of them will attract the admiration of posterity.”1

Speaking of the public schools, and distributing to each the praise, which, in his opinion, belonged

1 Spital Sermon, p. 109.

to each, he often expatiated with delight upon the “solid Greek learning” of the Charter-house—upon the “correct compositions,” both Latin and English, of the Etonians—and upon “the elegance united with correctness,” which distinguished the literary exercises of the Wykehamists. Of Westminster his opinion was less favourable. The celebrity of Rugby school stood, he thought, deservedly high, especially under the auspices of the late very learned Dr. James; whose plan of education he often commended as “elegant and comprehensive.”—Of Christ’s Hospital he has expressed his opinion, in the following terms:—

“When I reflect upon the comprehensive plan of education for young persons, adopted in this school; upon the salutary discipline established among them; upon the various kinds of knowledge in which they are instructed; upon the many excellent teachers that have been set over them; upon the many industrious and prosperous tradesmen, the many courageous defenders of their country, the many luminaries of learning and religion, that have come from this seminary; I am persuaded that no school or college in this kingdom is entitled to higher praise, on the ground of accommodation to the real interests of society.”1

During the course of 1814, it was again the lot of Dr. Parr to see the diminished circle of old and intimate friends still diminishing. Among those admitted to his confidence, few obtained a larger share than Dr. White, canon of Christ’s Church, Oxford, Regius professor of Hebrew, and Laudian

1 Spital Sermon, p. 17.

professor of Arabic in that university. His father was a journeyman weaver, and he himself was brought up to the same trade. His early education, it may be supposed, was very confined: but afterwards, by his own exertions, he carried forward his own improvements to a wonderful extent, and even succeeded in acquiring a considerable knowledge of the learned languages. It was his thirst for information, and his love of books, which drew towards him the notice of the celebrated Dean Tucker; who was surprised, one day, on entering his father’s cottage, to find a Greek Testament lying upon the loom, at which he was working. Under the auspices of the dean, after some preparatory instruction, he was sent to Oxford: where he soon raised himself to distinction by his talents and exertions; and especially by the extraordinary assiduity and success, with which he applied himself to the study of oriental literature.

Of his literary labours, the following account is given by Dr. Parr, in one of his publications:—“Dr. White is the author of a very judicious sermon on the Septuagint. He published an inaugural speech; which, in point of composition, far excels that which is usually found in the Clavis Pentateuch of Dr. Robertson. He translated and edited in 2 vols. 4to. the Syriac Version of part of the New Testament, which belonged to Dr. Gloucester Ridley. He long ago completed, and might with very little exertion publish, what Pocock Jun. left unfinished in the translation of Adollatiph’s Egyptian History. He has lately done signal service to young clergymen, by an edition of the received text of the New Testament, with the most important variations in Griesbach, and by a “Diatessaron,” drawn up in conformity to the chronology, approved by Archbishop Newcome; and to his professional studies he, in his “Bampton lectures,” was much indebted for the happy choice of a subject, and for the very masterly manner in which it has been treated.”1

But after the “Bampton lectures,” last mentioned, had obtained, for their reputed author, universal admiration and applause, by the depth of learning, the strength of reasoning, and the power of eloquence, which they display, at the end of the fourth year, as the reader probably knows, it was discovered, to the general astonishment, that many of the discourses were the production of another person—Mr. Badcock, a dissenting clergyman, who soon afterwards conformed to the Established Church; and that Dr. Parr had also contributed, to the same work, much valuable assistance. The evidence was clear and decisive; and the learned professor was reduced to the mortifying necessity of acknowledging the fact.

If, however, the confession2 thus extorted is to be received as a declaration of the whole truth; it must still be allowed, in favour of Dr. White, that even after the deduction of all that belongs to another, enough remains to establish for him a claim to high literary merit. But it was impossible that he could hope to escape censure, for the

1 Spital Sermon, p. 123.

2 A statement of Dr. White’s obligations to the Rev. Samuel Badcock and the Rev. Samuel Parr, LL.D.

extreme disingenuousness of assuming to himself all the praise, of which so large a share belonged to others; and of withholding, in the first instance, the public acknowledgment due to those, by whom he had been so materially assisted.

In the “Bibliotheca Parriana”1 appears the following entry:—“The Bampton lectures, 1784, with the original autographs of Joseph White, Samuel Parr, Henry Richards, afterwards head of Exeter College, and John Parsons, afterwards head of Baliol College, and Bishop of Peterborough, when by appointment they met at Hatton-parsonage, 9th June, 1789, for the purpose of ascertaining what share Dr. Parr had in corrections, substitutions, and additions of the aforesaid sermons.”—From this examination it appeared, that the share of the work which belongs to Dr. Parr consists in the verbal correction and improvement of the whole, in the composition of the greatest part of the tenth lecture, and in the addition of many notes.

But though, by this discreditable affair, a shade was thrown over the fair fame of Dr. White; yet his attainments as an oriental scholar, and his abilities as a Christian advocate, were universally acknowledged; and the preferment which he soon afterwards obtained, was the subject of sincere congratulation among the friends of learning, and the wellwishers to the best interests of the church. He was made prebendary of Gloucester cathedral, and was subsequently presented to the valuable living of Melton in Suffolk. He retired to this

1 Page 84.

village on his marriage in 1790; and there, in the month of August 1814, he died.

In the succeeding month of the same year Dr. Parr sustained another severe loss, in the death of Peregrine Dealtry, Esq. of Bradenham, near High Wycombe. Of this awfully sudden event, he thus communicates the intelligence to his friend Mr. Parkes:—“Dear Sir,—With anguish I have to inform you that my old and dear friend Mr. Dealtry was, on Thursday last, found dead in his bed, at Ryde in the Isle of Wight. Mr. Willes was with him the day before he died, and most wisely and kindly wrote to me. This disaster will damp the joy I look for, in accompanying another valuable friend, upon an important errand. But in this school of adversity, I have been long practised; and have learned to submit to the will of Heaven. I wish you all well, till I return; which will not be till the beginning of October. My head is confused, and my heart aches. I am truly yours.—S. P.”

Mr. Dealtry, son of Dr. Dealtry, formerly an eminent physician at York, was distinguished by a most upright and honourable mind, and by all those qualities which form the character of the worthy and the useful country gentleman. He was the early pupil, and the constant friend of Dr. Parr, who paid a tribute of respectful and affectionate regard to his memory, in a biographical Memoir, which will be found in a subsequent part of this volume.

It was at a period, somewhat earlier, that Dr. Parr was summoned to the melancholy task of commemorating, in a monumental inscription,1 the various excellencies, which distinguished the character of another of his friends, a young man of great attainments and great promise, John Baynes, Esq. of Trinity College, Cambridge. After attaining to the highest honours of the university, and aspiring, with fairest expectation, to those of the bar, he died at the early age of twenty-eight. He is mentioned by Dr. Parr “as the learned, ingenious, much admired, and much beloved friend of Sir Samuel Romilly and himself.”2

Among the eminent persons, in the higher orders of the community, with whose kind and friendly regards Dr. Parr was favoured, he had the honour to rank the late Duke of Norfolk; and it was with the deepest concern that he received information, in September 1815, of the serious illness which, early in the ensuing December, terminated in the death of this truly patriotic nobleman. In parliamentary conduct, first as Earl of Surrey in the Lower House, and afterwards as Duke of Norfolk, in the Upper, he well sustained the character of an enlightened and upright senator, uniformly actuated, at once, by that high independence of spi-

1 App. No. II.

2 “Sullivan’s Lectures on the Constitution and Laws of England, &c.

Huncce ego accipio lubens libellum, Qui me non movet æstimatione; Verum est μνημόσυνον mei sodalis, Artium juvenis bonarum amantis, Doctis omnibus et bonis amandi.

Joannis Baynes, Coll. Trin. Cant. Socii. Prid. Non. Maii, 1783.”—Bibl. Parr, p. 420.

rit, which becomes a peer, and by that devoted attachment to popular rights, which might have been expected to be found only in a plebeian. He adopted the principles of Mr. Fox; and with him was opposed to the unjust and ruinous contest with America, and afterwards to the no less unjust and still more ruinous war with France. By the unyielding firmness of his public conduct, he excited the jealousy, or alarmed the fears, of the Pitt administration in the high-day of its power; and he was in consequence deprived of the lieutenancy of the West Riding of Yorkshire, and of the command of its militia.

As the opinions of the late Duke of Norfolk, on all the subjects most interesting to men and to Englishmen, closely agreed with those of Dr. Parr, their interviews were always agreeable; and occasionally, for several weeks together, Dr. Parr was the delighted visitor and the welcome guest, at one or other of the duke’s magnificent seats, and especially at the grand baronial residence of his ancestors, Arundel Castle. Being without issue, the late duke was succeeded by his brother the present duke, for whose intelligence and integrity Dr. Parr entertained high respect; and to whom he was indebted for many kind and gratifying attentions. It scarcely need be added that, in such a mind as Dr. Parr’s, the sentiments of respect inspired by excellence of general character were confirmed, and if possible increased, by that conscientious adherence to the religion of his ancestors, which places the present Duke of Norfolk—the premier Duke and Earl-Marshal—at the head of the Catholic peerage in England.

That sympathetic concern, which Dr. Parr always felt for the distresses of others, was, early in 1815, painfully excited, by the truly afflicting case of Mr. W. Lunn, a man of considerable worth, and a bookseller of high respectability in Soho Square, London. By a concurrence of unfortunate events, the affairs of his trade—that of a dealer in classical books, on a new and extensive system—were thrown into such a state of embarrassment, as, to his terrified apprehension, admitted of no possible relief; and from the pangs of disappointment and dread of disgrace, he sought refuge in a voluntary death. Impressed with great esteem for the character, and with deep commiseration for the fate, of an upright and honourable man, Dr. Parr took upon himself the task of relating, in a biographical memoir, the principal events of Mr. Lunn’s active and useful life, and the deplorable circumstances which led to his untimely death. This memoir, which will be found in a future page, was prefixed to a new catalogue of the remaining book-stock, with the benevolent view of promoting its sale, for the benefit of the widow and her two daughters, who were left without any other resources. It is a most pathetic appeal to all the just and generous feelings of the British public, especially to those of the learned world; and there is reason to hope it was attended with much good effect. How heart-moving is the representation in the following passage!

“Disappointed in his expectations—alarmed at the prospect of impending losses—perplexed by the application of creditors, whose demands he had frequently satisfied with exemplary punctuality—conscious of having exhausted the whole of his property in procuring books, some of which he might be obliged to sell at a less price than that which he had advanced for them—unaccustomed to propitiate the severe by supplication, to trick the artful by evasion, and to distress the friendly by delay, he was suddenly bereaved of that self-command, which, if he could have preserved it, would have eventually secured for him unsullied respectability, undiminished prosperity, and undisturbed tranquillity. But in the poignant anguish of his soul, delicacy prevailed over reason, and panic over fortitude. Every expedient proposed by his faithful and affectionate advisers was at one moment adopted with gratitude, and at the next rejected with frenzy; every present inconvenience was magnified into an insurmountable obstacle; every possible future mischance was anticipated as an inevitable and ruinous calamity. To his disordered imagination retreat seemed impracticable; to his unaltered and unalterable sense of honour resistance appeared unjustifiable: by his wounded pride submission was deemed alike ignominious and inefficacious. He reflected and was impatient of reflection; he hoped and was ashamed of hope; he approved and disapproved; he decided and hesitated; he despaired and perished!

“Happily for the human race, all the extenuations which accompany such cases are reserved for the tribunal of that Being, who knoweth of what we are made, and remembereth that we are but dust. In the mean time, many a Christian will be disposed to commiserate the circumstances of Mr. Lunn’s death; and many a man of letters may find reason to deplore the loss of his well-meant and well-directed labours.”

CHAPTER VII. A.D. 1812—1815. Public affairs—Death of Mr. Perceval—Liberal overtures to the Whigs—Liverpool administration—Fall of Buonaparte—Dr. Parr’s opinion of the Vienna manifesto—and the Holy Alliance—His notice of parliamentary proceedings—Catholic question—Property tax—Unitarian toleration act.

Early in the year 1812, Dr. Parr went to London, and passed there several months, watching, with much anxiety, the progress of those political events, which took place about this period, and which so seriously disappointed the hopes, he, in common with many of the best friends of the country, had ventured to form and to cherish.

In consequence of the King’s lamented incapacity, the Prince of Wales had been appointed regent, under certain restrictions, which were to expire February 1, 1812. But, even after that time, to the regret of many persons, and to the surprise of more, though his own political principles were avowedly different; yet the Prince thought proper to permit the ministry, of which Mr. Perceval was the ostensible leader, to continue in office. Certain proposals were, indeed, communicated, by order of the Regent, “to some of those friends, with whom the early habits of his public life were formed,” inviting them “to strengthen his hands, and to constitute a part of his government.” But these proposals were deemed such, as could not be consistently or honourably accepted. “There is a confused rumour,” says Dr. Parr, writing at this time to a friend, “of a change of ministry. I cannot go into particulars. But I can assure you there will be infinite difficulty in any new arrangement; and this may compel the Prince to stumble on with the present ministry, whom he hates, and by whom he is hated.”

But in the month of May, an extraordinary and tragical event deprived the administration of its principal support. This was the death of Mr. Perceval, who fell by a pistol-shot in the lobby of the Commons’ House, from the hand of an assassin, named Bellingham. Though, on inquiring into the case of this wretched man, there seemed to be strong reasons for believing that he was insane, yet the application for time to procure legal evidence of the fact was refused; and within six days he was tried, condemned, and executed. The precipitancy of these proceedings, and the general belief that Bellingham had been an injured man, and that he was disordered in mind, excited much commiseration in his favour, even in spite of the enormity of his crime. To these circumstances Dr. Parr alludes, in the following note, written from London to a friend in the country:—

“The execution of Bellingham went off quietly. The spectators, with one natural feeling, said to him, ‘God bless you!’ I cannot write more just now. Beware of rashness in judging others. Remember, at the same time, the danger and the guilt of directly or indirectly encouraging assassination. It is God alone can decide whether Bellingham was morally guilty or not. I do not approve of all that passed at his trial. I fully believe him to have been a maniac; and three sagacious physicians, who have read his trial, agree with me in that opinion. Farewell.—S. P.”

After the death of the premier, a new administration was to be formed; and the hopes of Dr. Parr and his political friends were again excited. It must be owned that a fair and liberal overture was now made to Lord Grey and the Whigs, through the medium of Lord Moira, which was however ultimately defeated in its object, in no small degree it seems, by the duplicity of one of their own party.1 Thus terminated in disappointment the expectation of seeing such an administration formed, as the exigencies of the time appeared to demand; and the Tories, with Lord Liverpool at their head, were left in full possession of the powers of government, which they have ever since, with one short interval, retained. Expressing his deep regret on this occasion, Dr. Parr thus writes to his friend:—“The new ministry is not yet quite formed. Some great lords will be in town tonight or to-morrow. I expect arrangements to be finished on Monday or Tuesday. There are many knotty points, yet to be settled. My friend! these are strange times; and there is in high places great wickedness. Direct your letters to me under cover to R. Adair, Esq. I dine with Lord Carrington on Wednesday. I shall leave town on the

1 See Moore’s Life of Sheridan, vol. ii. p. 425, &c.

following Tuesday, and reach Hatton on Friday. God bless you all! S. P.—May 23, 1812.”

Turning from the state of domestic, let the reader glance his eye over that of foreign affairs, at this momentous period; when events followed each other in rapid succession, calculated to rouse and fix the surprise, and awe the attention, of persons far less deeply interested than Dr. Parr, in the progress of human affairs, and the fate of men and nations.

The great and amazing changes which took place about this time, in the state of the European world, will easily recur to the reader’s mind. Buonaparte, the wonder and the terror of his age, was now, by his restless ambition and boundless usurpation, working his own destruction; and preparing for himself a fall as signally disgraceful, as his rise had been rapid and splendid. The universal abhorrence, excited by his many acts of perfidy and tyranny, seemed at last to call into action the physical energies of all Europe, as if in one united mass; which, even with the vast resources of his country, and his own genius, he found himself unable long to resist. His misfortunes beginning with the discomfiture of his army in Spain on the one side, and the dreadful horrors of his disastrous retreat from Moscow on the other, were followed by his defeat in the battle of Leipzic, the capture of Paris, and his forced abdication, April 11, 1814. His return from Elba, the next succeeding spring, and his resumption of the imperial dignity, were but a momentary gleam of light amidst the deepening shades which gathered round him; and his falling fortunes were quickly laid for ever prostrate in the memorable field of Waterloo: from which he escaped, only to find a miserable exile on the rock of St. Helena; where, gradually sinking under the weight of bodily disorder and mental suffering, he expired in May, 1821.

Though the ex-emperor of France possessed many noble qualities, which deserve, and will obtain, the admiration of the present and future generations; and though he conferred upon his country many important benefits, which will never cease to be remembered and acknowledged; yet who can forget the faults of his character? or forgive the errors and crimes of his conduct? or who can deny that his government was a military despotism? The downfall of such a despotism, therefore, could be no subject of regret to the friends of human liberty and happiness; and it would have been the source of unmingled and exulting joy, if it had not been followed, on the part of the great triumvirate, who now ruled the destinies of Europe, by measures as tyrannical and oppressive as those, from which they had proclaimed and promised deliverance.

In a letter dated April 12, 1815, the very day on which Napoleon, after his return from Elba, published, apparently with the general concurrence of France, his new “Constitutional Act,” highly favourable to popular rights; and very soon after the famous manifesto had been issued from Vienna, Dr. Parr thus writes to his friend, Mr. Parkes:—

“Dear Sir,—I have just read the Vienna decla-ration. It is quite novel to put enemies at war on the footing of traitors; and yet this sceptred gang menace every partizan of Napoleon, who may fall into their hands, with a sentence of death. They have shut up all avenues to pacific negotiation. In their frenzy, they throw away the scabbard, at the very moment, when they draw the sword. Mr. Parkes! they make out no case, in the way of statement, or in the way of argument. Theirs is the very worst possible cause; and whether victory or defeat be reserved for the royal and imperial conspirators, the civilised world is doomed to experience the worst possible consequences. I am truly your wellwisher,—S. P.”

When the contest was decided, and the tremendous confederacy called the Holy Alliance, was completely formed, and its views divulged, Dr. Parr thus writes to the same friend:—

“Dear Sir,—When the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia said concisely and emphatically ‘the confederation of the Rhine must be dissolved,’ my assent was instantaneous and unfeigned. But after the atrocious system of usurpation, rapine, and oppression, which has lately been formed—after the violation of every principle, which secures the independence of nations—after an interchange of secret articles, which unite the parties in a bond of alliance against England, and every other country in Europe, daring to assert their social rights, or to resist internal despotism—I say, without disguise and without qualification, the conspiracy of Vienna must be resisted. Should the just indignation of Norway, Italy, Belgium, Switzerland, Saxony, and the minor states of Germany, be roused, and two or three of the conspirators be destroyed, I shall not for one moment feel one pang. Disappointed hope, violated justice, menaced freedom, and insulted humanity, compel me to lift my voice against the whole confederated band of royal traitors, plunderers, and tyrants. I respect and pity Louis XVIII. I distrust and I dread Napoleon. I despise and I abhor C——. But I love old England, and think her governors the most dangerous enemies of her ancient and sacred constitution. I remain, dear Sir, your wellwisher, and respectful servant,

“S. Parr.”

The following letter, written soon after the battle of Waterloo, explains the grounds of those fearful apprehensions for the consequences of that event, to all the great interests of the civilised world, which then possessed the minds of many of the most enlightened men in the country:

“Dear Mr. Roscoe,—My peace of mind has been for some months quite destroyed. There lay before me a choice of evils; and, after the partition-conspiracy at Vienna, followed up by proclamations worthy of Sylla, I decided for Napoleon. My friend, in these troublous times we look about for consolation; and I have found a small portion of it in the possible suspension of carnage, in the diminution of taxes, and the delay of national bankruptcy. Yet, the strong question upon which kings and the people are now at issue, and the determination of oppressors to crush all social rights, and all social improvements, by mili-tary violence, their vigorous sympathies in their common cause, and their combined strength, perpetually recur to my mind. There will be an end, dear sir, of national independence. What violations of promises!—what bloodshed are we to look for in France! The monsters are now giddy with victory; but they will soon form a system for securing themselves by perpetuated and extended cruelty. I dreaded Napoleon; but I dread and I detest his enemies far more. There is no chance of cure for the inveterate and legitimate crimes of the old governments. As to the Bourbons, I despise, and am compelled to detest them. There is no sincerity among them; and you and I, who are old-fashioned moralists, look upon sincerity as the foundation of all virtue. But I will write no more. We must talk together, and before we meet, there will be a rank and abundant harvest of evils. You and I are pure from the blood of our fellow-creatures; and we can turn from the savage clamours of the world, to commune with our own hearts. God bless you!

“S. Parr. “Hatton, July 6, 1815.”

Among the great subjects of parliamentary inquiry during this period, it was with high satisfaction that Dr. Parr observed the progress of the Catholic question, which seemed to be advancing under favourable auspices, to a happy issue. Referring to an important resolution adopted by the House of Commons in 1812, “to take into consideration the state of the laws respecting the Catholics, at an early period of the ensuing ses-sion,” Dr. Parr writes thus to one of his friends:—“Tell Mr. E. that, by all parties, the Catholic question is considered as settled, in consequence of Mr. Canning’s motion, which was carried by a decided majority.” But these flattering appearances proved delusive: for when the bill of promised relief was brought forward in 1813, it was found unsatisfactory alike to Catholics and to Protestants; and, after vehement debates, it was finally rejected. It is lamentable to think that, from that time to the present, including a period of no less than fifteen years, the loud and reiterated complaints of so large a class of British subjects, enforced upon the legislature, by the most convincing reasoning, and the most commanding eloquence, have failed to procure for the cause of reason and justice the triumph, which it must ultimately obtain.

July 11th, 1813, is a day, which deserves to be marked, with honourable distinction, in the history of religious toleration: as on that day one of the most cruelly persecuting statutes, which had too long disgraced the British code, received its death-blow; and the royal assent was given to an act repealing all laws, passed in ages of ignorant bigotry, against those Christians, who impugn the doctrine of the Trinity. As the writer is one of the number, benefited by that great act of public justice, he had very soon afterwards the pleasure to receive from Dr. Parr the most sincere and heartfelt congratulations, on the happy occasion. “Even the very manner of passing the act,” said Dr. Parr, “increases my satisfaction: because it seems to declare the state of public feeling no less remarkably than the act itself.” For, with the unanimous concurrence, so far as then appeared, both of the church and the state, both of the executive and legislative authority, the bill was brought in; and, without the slightest whisper of objection, was suffered to proceed through all its stages, till it passed into a law.

It was with no small degree of proud exultation, such as was always excited in his mind, by every circumstance honourable to his church, that Dr. Parr spoke of the wise moderation of the bishops, who concurred in the measure; and especially of the metropolitan, who not only approved it in private, but supported it in public, by a manly speech, replete with good sense and good feeling; in the course of which he asserted, as with truth he might, that the bill was not called for, by any attempt to put the laws complained of in force. In proportion, however, to the satisfaction which Dr. Parr thus felt and expressed, was his concern, on discovering that a measure, so right and so reasonable, was resisted, when it was first proposed, and lamented after its adoption, by a prelate—for whom he entertained the highest veneration, as a man of learning and great moral worth. Under this painful disappointment, he consoled himself, he said, by the assurance that Bishop Burgess, the bold advocate for persecuting laws in the 19th century, would find himself almost, if not quite alone; and that not even the imposing influence of courageous singularity, nor the acknowledged excellence of a pure and elevated character, would draw after him many followers, in an age in which the claims and benefits of religious, as well as civil liberty, are so well and so generally understood.

It was always a subject of regret to Dr. Parr, as it is to the present writer, that the act of repeal just referred to was not extended, so as to include the disbelievers of revelation. Dr. Parr thought that the soundest policy, as well as the strictest justice, calls for such extension; and that the precepts and the spirit of Christianity demand it. He was, indeed, tremblingly alive to the evil of diffusing error, and was much too fearfully apprehensive of the mischiefs of exciting controversy. But he dreaded far more the greater evils of intolerance; and was, therefore, an advocate for leaving the press open to the free discussion of all religious, as well as political questions. Aware of the extreme difficulty of drawing the line between an exceptionable and an unexceptionable mode of conducting disputations, he conceived, upon the whole, that it would be best to grant unrestrained freedom of writing and publishing, even as to the manner: consigning what are thought impious or blasphemous publications to no other punishment, but the general contempt and abhorrence which they will be sure to excite; and which, in the end, will most effectually counteract all their pernicious influences. With these views, on which Dr. Parr often expatiated with great eloquence, especially in the later years of his life, it is perhaps unnecessary to add, that he utterly condemned the prosecution of sceptical or infidel writers; of which prosecutions, he was accustomed to say, the only effect is, to draw towards the prosecuted, credit for their sincerity, respect for their courage, and pity for their sufferings; and to secure for their writings a far more general notice, than they could otherwise obtain. Speaking of such attempts to support or suppress opinions by force—“Ah! Well!” said he, “governors will know better by-and-bye: but they might as well attempt to scare the thunder by the attorney-general’s parchment, as to stop the progress of either truth or error, by pains and penalties.”1

1 “The proper punishment of a low, mean, indecent scurrilous way of writing against religion, seems to be neglect, contempt, scorn, and general indignation. And if we leave all further punishment to Him, to whom vengeance belongs, I have thought it might be much for the honour of ourselves and our religion.”—Dr. Lardner’s Friendly Correspondence with Bishop Waddington. Works, vol. i. p. 115.

CHAPTER VIII. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s second marriage—His happy old age—Reconciliation with his grand-daughters—His ample income—His domestic habits—His studious mornings—His epistolary correspondence—His handwriting—His amusements—His social parties.

Dr. Parr had nearly completed his 70th year when he announced to his friends an intention of entering, a second time, into the married state. The communication was unexpected: and the first surprise soon gave way to serious apprehension for the consequences of such a change, at so late a period of life. This apprehension was, however, soon removed, when it was found that he had fixed his choice on Miss Eyre, sister of his late much-respected friend, the Rev. James Eyre of Solihull; a lady of suitable age, whom he had long known and esteemed; and who was excellently qualified by good sense, and by gentle and amiable dispositions and manners, for the task—certainly no easy task!—of watching over his health and happiness in his declining age.

To this lady he was married at Coventry, December 17, 1816: and the union proved to him even more than was anticipated—the source of satisfaction through remaining life, and of solace in approaching death. Never, indeed, was Hatton parsonage a scene of so much domestic order and felicity, as in the seven years, during which it was under the superintending care of the second Mrs. Parr. Again and again, has the writer heard his illustrious friend declare that these last years were those, in which he had, above all others, the most perfect enjoyment of life. Surrounded abundantly with the conveniences and comforts, which wealth can procure; cheered by the soothing and unceasing attentions, which conjugal kindness only can supply; exempt, in good measure, from bodily disorders and from decays of the understanding; consoled amidst many painful, by many pleasing, remembrances of the past, especially by the consciousness of his own integrity, and animated by religious hope, in the prospect of the future;—his was that happy old age, which, under favourable circumstances, is, perhaps, the most desirable period of human existence. Writing, in his 77th year, to his friend the celebrated Mr. Brougham, he thus describes his own state and feelings:—“animo quem nulla senectus,—say I, triumphantly, in the words of an ancient poet.”

Among the events which contributed to throw cheering rays over the evening of Dr. Parr’s life, was the restoration of his grand-daughters to the place they were entitled to hold in his affectionate regards. Their father had married a second time; and it became, therefore, still more desirable to secure for them the protection of their grandfather. Many attempts for the purpose had been made without success; and they were indebted at length for a second reconciliation, more auspicious than the first, to the persevering efforts of the same true and unfailing friend, to whom they owed so much on the former occasion.

Lost for some time from her sight, but never absent from her thoughts, Mrs. Edwards was reduced to the expedient of seeking information concerning them through the medium of a stranger, to whom she ventured to write—a clergyman, who had just been presented to a living near their father’s residence in Wales; and whose name had accidentally caught her eye, in looking over a list of “preferments,” in a magazine. Guided by the knowledge thus obtained, she wrote to the young ladies themselves; and so well explained her views and urged her wishes, that, with her father’s consent, the elder sister, who bore a striking resemblance to her mother, made a journey to Warwick. After a day or two of painful suspense, she proceeded thence on a Sunday morning to Hatton. About an hour before the commencement of divine service, at which time her grandfather was generally known to be in his most composed and happy state of mind, she called at the parsonage, and was admitted to his presence. “Let him but see you,” said her kind adviser and encourager, “and nature will do the rest.” So it proved. The feelings of natural affection, powerfully excited by this sudden interview with the child of his daughter, and her very image, were triumphant; and the parent received back the long-estranged grand-daughter to his embraces and his heart.

But what must have been the delight of the friend, by whom the whole plan had been concerted, and who was eagerly and anxiously watching its progress, when she gained a first and a full assurance of its success, on entering the church-field at Hatton, by seeing the grandfather and the grand-daughter moving arm in arm, as she followed them, at a distance, to the church!—“The high-throbbing joy of that exquisite moment,” says the writer’s informant, the affectionate friend herself, “no words can describe!”

This happy restoration of the elder sister to those paternal regards, from which she had been too long divided, was soon followed by that of the younger. From that time they were received by their grandfather into his guardian care; and their opening characters were gradually unfolding qualities, which could not fail to conciliate his esteem, mingled with his fondest affections.

A will, which Dr. Parr had made, and by which they had been almost disinherited, was replaced by another, more just to them; and they are now inheritrixes, in main part, of the large property of which he died possessed. Miss Wynne was married in Sept. 1822, to the Rev. John Lines, rector of Elmley-Lovett in Worcestershire. Miss Augusta Wynne, whose countenance greatly resembles her grandfather, is still unmarried.

It is pleasing to dwell on the closing period of Dr. Parr’s life, when, after “having endured very irksome toil, and suffered very galling need,” for many years, he found himself placed in a state of ease and affluence. He had now the ample means of exercising that generous hospitality, in which he delighted, and of indulging freely in the benevolent luxury of relieving the wants of others. Withdrawn entirely from the business of tuition since the year 1800, he determined to devote the remainder of his days to the calm pursuits of literature, intermingled with the pleasures of learned and friendly society. The circle of his acquaintance was large, and included many of the persons most distinguished for rank, for knowledge, for worth of character, for ardour of patriotism and activity of benevolence. Their company and their correspondence constituted one of the greatest sources of his happiness; and the frequent interchange with them of letters and of visits agreeably diversified and relieved the solitude of the secluded village, in which he lived.

He rose early even in his old age; and throwing carelessly round him his clothes, which were not uncommonly of uncouth shape and coarse texture, and not unfrequently well worn, and well patched, with his head enveloped in a night-cap, he sat down in his library, and employed himself in reading, writing, or dictating to others. Here, in the midst of his learned labours, he was often found by his morning visitors, to whom he seldom refused admittance; and whom he scrupled not to receive, attired as he was, totally unconcerned about his own grotesque appearance, and in truth hardly conscious of it. It was his habit, almost immediately on rising, to call for his pipe, with which he welcomed the morn, and cheered the studious hours of the day, as well as animated the social or the solitary evening.

The same habits of industry, which he had acquired in youth, and cultivated in manhood, remained unchanged in advanced age. His thirst for knowledge was as ardent, and his application to study as persevering in the later, as in the earlier periods of life:1 and, as was said of Solon and Cato, he grew old learning something every day. Such was his impatience of doubt or error, where any thing like certainty may be obtained, that the least hesitation as to matters of fact, or the least perplexity as to the construction of a sentence, or the import of a phrase or word, would send him upon his researches; and he would persist in turning over volume after volume, till his uncertainty was removed. Though his reading was devoted chiefly to the great writers of ancient and modern times, whose works demand the severest exercise of the understanding; yet he would not disdain to peruse the publications of the passing day, if recommended to his notice; and he would discuss their merits with fairness and candour, always generously bestowing the praise to which they might seem entitled.

His morning hours were often devoted to his correspondents, who were very numerous; including not only his intimate friends, but many also of the most eminent writers and scholars in

1 “Æschyli Supplices et Eumenides Gr. recensuit G. Burges, &c.—Samueli Parrio, cui ne unum quidem, οιοι νυν βροτοί εισιν, parem e primis annis usque ad extremam senectutem astiduum cultorem fautoremque strenuum Græcæ literæ invenerunt, hunc libellum ipse ϕιλλη millit commendatque G. Burges.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 134.

this country, and some also of those on the continent. His letters, which, if collected, would form several folio volumes, were written in the true epistolary style of unaffected ease and simple elegance, frequently enlivened by sallies of sportive wit and pleasantry. They were usually on subjects connected with public affairs, and the important events of the day, concerning which he was accustomed to inquire anxiously and to reflect deeply. They often comprised critical remarks on the works of modern writers, and still oftener on those of the ancient Greeks and Romans. His literary communications to authors, who applied to him for assistance, were large and liberal; and his aid was sometimes gratuitously offered to those who had not presumed to solicit it. If, on perusing any recent publication, he was much pleased or interested by it, he would sometimes write a critique upon it, more or less minute, and forward it, inclosed in a letter to the surprised and delighted author.

Occasionally Dr. Parr took upon himself to address letters of remonstrance or reproof to the zealous theologian, or to the controversial writer, who had offended, as it appeared to him, against the laws of literary courtesy, or the precepts of Christian charity. Of this an instance lately occurred in the case of no less a person than that of the Lord Archbishop of Dublin. To that high dignitary he twice presented a protest against the unfairness of reasoning, the rashness of assertion, and the bitterness of invective, which have too much dishonoured his Lordship’s polemical writings; and have injured rather than aided the cause of which he is the advocate. Writing to a friend, he says,

“I gave a wholesome pastoral lesson to the new bishop; and, by letters, I have dropped serious though not very pleasing counsel into the minds of two of the right reverend dignitaries. I did not spare the Tory parsons. They crammed me with their heresies; and I dosed them with intellectual physic, prescribed by reason and Scripture, prepared in my shop, and administered by my hands, &c.—S. P. Holkham, August 21, 1816.”

It was a great misfortune, which Dr. Parr had often occasion to lament, that his handwriting was such as to be utterly illegible to those who were not accustomed to it, and almost so to those who were. He was always glad, therefore, to employ an amanuensis when writing for others, or even for himself, as he could not without difficulty decipher his own misshapen characters. The present writer, on receiving from him a note of only a few lines, was always obliged, in reading it, to seek the help of others; and sometimes to despatch a messenger for explanation to Dr. Parr himself. Among the mass of letters and papers now lying before him, the writer finds few, indeed, in which there are not many words, often clauses, and sometimes whole sentences, which have never yet been made out, even by persons considered as most skilful in giving form and order to these “chaotic scrawls,” as they were frequently termed by Dr. Parr himself. Thus humorously he describes his own manuscript of “Characters of Mr. Fox,” in a letter to his printer. Mr. Belcher of Birmingham, to whom, and to his son, the present Mr. Belcher, he was warmly attached, and of whom he always spoke in the same high terms of respect, in which they have ever been spoken of by all to whom they are known.

“Sir,—I hope that your son will pardon the new tax I am going to lay upon his patience, when I request him, if possible, to put together the scattered limbs of the book, just in the same form in which he received them; so that I may hereafter show to my friends a many-headed, many-handed, many-footed monster, which certainly belongs to no known species; and for which all printers, booksellers, and devils of the press will put up their prayers that it may never propagate its own shapeless race; but remain a solitary individual, for blockheads to stare at, and men of sense to laugh at. I am sure that my learned friend, who writes for me, and all my scholarly acquaintance, will give your son the highest praise for industry and good sense, in making out the confused and deformed contents of a MS. quite unexampled since the invention of letters: for, I verily believe that the negroes of Africa, and the Cherokees of America, and I had almost said the long-tailed animals, from which Lord Monboddo supposes the human race to have been descended, might be taught in two months to write more legibly.—I am your sincere wellwisher,

“S. Parr.”

On the same subject, Dr. Parr speaks in a more serious strain towards the close of the preface to the two volumes just referred to:—“The editor has felt frequent and serious inconvenience from his early and perverse inattention to an attainment, the usefulness of which was justly appreciated by an ancient critic: “Non est aliena res, quæ fere ab honestis negligi solet, cura bene et velociter scribendi,” &c. He unfortunately accustomed himself “velociter scribere, non bene.” But he hopes to put some check upon the boyish heedlessness and petty vanity of others, by reminding them that, in the art of writing, Mr. Fox was eminently distinguished by the clearness and the firmness, Mr. Professor Porson, by the correctness and elegance, and Sir Wm. Jones, by the ease, beauty, and variety, of the characters, which they respectively employed.”

After a studious morning,1 Dr. Parr usually took his only exercise, which was gentle riding on horseback, enlivened by a few friendly calls on more distant neighbours. He had no inclination for any of the sports of hunting, shooting, or fishing;2 nor had he the least taste for gardening or

1 “It is very well known both to my pupils and my visitors, that few men are less idle than myself; and by many of my friends it will not be denied that a pretty considerable share of my time has been allotted to their writings. From my daily avocations, as an instructor, from my numerous, and I hope useful exertions, as a parish-priest, from the variety and extent of my correspondence, from the different affairs, about which I am either consulted or employed by different persons in different parts of the kingdom, I am often bereaved of the leisure, which would otherwise be dedicated to the prosecution of my studies, the relief of my spirits, and the preservation of my health.”—Reply to Combe, p. 54.

2 “Daniel’s Rural Sports, 4to. plates.—The gift of Jockey “Dr. Maltby to Jockey Dr. Parr.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 478.

agriculture. His corporeal frame was robust and vigorous; but he had not sufficient agility to enjoy much the pleasures of walking. Though, during his later years, he kept his coach, and sometimes went in it, with a kind of state, of which he was sufficiently vain, drawn by four horses; yet, almost to the last, he generally preferred riding on horseback. He was often to be seen, on the road from Hatton to Warwick, or from that town to Leamington, moving slowly along, the most grotesque figure imaginable, wrapped in an old blue cloak, with coarse worsted stockings, and one rusty spur; his head covered with a huge cauliflower wig, and a small cocked-hat overtopping all; his servant preceding him about a dozen yards, either on foot or horseback.1

His constitution was so hardy, that he went out in all states of the weather, except in snow, of which he had the greatest dread; as he pleasantly describes in the following note to his friend Mr. Parkes, written in the hard winter of 1807:—“I begin to fear that it scarcely will be in my power to wait upon you to-morrow. My chief apprehension is lest I should catch cold, in encountering my inveterate and invincible enemy—snow. I bid defiance to frost, to rain, to wind and heat; but I am always worsted in my conflicts with snow. However, if possible, I will be with you, &c.—S. P.”

Dr. Parr’s nature was highly social; and he almost always spent his evenings in the company of his family and his domestic visitors, or in that

1 New Monthly Mag. May, 1825.

of some neighbouring friends. He was fond of the pleasures of the table; and probably, in the course of the whole year, few days passed, in which he did not meet some social party, round the festive board, either at home or abroad. At such times, his dress was in complete contrast with the costume of the morning; for he appeared in a well-powdered wig, and always wore his band and cassock. On extraordinary occasions, he was arrayed in a full-dress suit of black velvet, of the cut of the old times, when his appearance was imposing and dignified.

After dinner, but not often till the ladies were about to retire, he claimed, in all companies, his privilege of smoking, as a right not to be disputed; since, he said, it was a condition, “no pipe, no Parr,” previously known, and peremptorily imposed on all who desired his acquaintance. Speaking of the honour once conferred upon him, of being invited to dinner at Carlton House, he always mentioned, with evident satisfaction, the kind condescension of his present majesty, then Prince of Wales, who was pleased to insist upon his taking his pipe as usual. Of the Duke of Sussex, in whose mansion he was not unfrequently a visitor, he used to tell, with exulting pleasure, that his Royal Highness not only allowed him to smoke, but smoked with him. He often represented it as an instance of the homage which rank and beauty delight to pay to talents and learning, that ladies of the highest stations condescended to the office of lighting his pipe. He appeared to no advantage, however, in his custom of demanding the service of holding the lighted paper to his pipe from the youngest female, who happened to be present; and who was, often, by the freedom of his remarks, or by the gaze of the company, painfully disconcerted. This troublesome ceremony, in his later years, he wisely discarded.

The reader will probably recollect, in the well-known story, his reply to the lady by whom he had been hospitably entertained, but who refused to allow him the indulgence of his pipe. In vain he pleaded that such indulgence had always been kindly granted, even in the mansions of the highest nobility, and even in the presence and in the palace of his sovereign. “Madam,” said Dr. Parr to the lady, who still remained inexorable, “you must give me leave to tell you, you are the greatest—“ whilst she, fearful of what might follow, earnestly interposed, and begged that he would express no rudeness.—“Madam,” resumed Dr. Parr, speaking loud, and looking stern, “I must take leave to tell you—you are the greatest—tobacco-stopper in England.” This sally produced a loud laugh; and having enjoyed the effects of his wit, he found himself obliged to retire, in order to enjoy the pleasures of his pipe.

Dr. Parr was accustomed to amuse himself in the evening with cards, of which the old English game of whist was his favourite. But no entreaties could induce him to depart from a resolution, which he adopted early in life, of never playing, in any company whatever, for more than a nominal stake. Upon one occasion only, he had been persuaded, contrary to his rule, to play with the late Bishop Watson for a shilling, which he won. Pushing it carefully to the bottom of his pocket, and placing his hand upon it, with a kind of mock-solemnity, “There, my Lord Bishop,” said he, “this is a trick of the devil; but I’ll match him: so now, if you please, we will play for a penny;” and this was ever after the amount of his stake.1 He was not, on that account, at all the less ardent in the prosecution, or the less joyous in the success, of the rubber. He had a high opinion of his own skill in this game, and could not very patiently tolerate the want of it in his partner. Being engaged with a party, in which he was unequally matched, he was asked by a lady, how the fortune of the game turned? when he replied—“Pretty well, madam, considering that I have three adversaries!”

1 Those two very learned men, Mr. Markland and Dr. Clarke, fond, like Dr. Parr, of whist, were not equally scrupulous as to the amount of their stakes. The former, in a letter to Mr. Bowyer, thus writes: “The person you mention was formerly my acquaintance and great benefactor. I won a hundred pounds of him once at whist; and got it every farthing.”

CHAPTER IX. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s conversations—His gaiety and affability of manner—His powers of wit—Encouragement of modest merit—Kind consideration for inferior intellect—His colloquial harangues—His contempt of assuming ignorance—Horror of profane ridicule—Dislike of punning—Occasional severity of censure.

With the convivial pleasures, in which he so much delighted, Dr. Parr never failed to intermingle those of the intellectual kind, by the exertion of the extraordinary colloquial powers, with which he was gifted. Sincere, frank, kind, cheerful, and social, to him no joys of life were greater than those of free, interesting, animated conversation; in which learning disdains not to relax its brow, and to associate with gaiety and mirth; and in which grave discussion refuses not to admit the enlivening influence of the amusing tale or the merry jest. “The vigour of my animal spirits,” he said of himself, “and the love I have for social intercourse, rarely permit me, when in company, to sit in sullen silence, or to keep a gloomy and watchful reserve, or to affect that pompous solemnity which some men assume, who wish the copiousness and solidity of their ideas to be estimated in a direct proportion to the paucity and feebleness of their words.”1

1 Reply to Combe, p. 71.

He was always, indeed, easy of access, prompt to reply, and forward to communicate. He told a story well; loved sportive wit; admired a spirited retort, even when directed against himself; and was always the first to catch the smile of pleasantry, and never the last to join in the roar of laughter.

When the company consisted of those only whom he knew and respected, and especially of those whose sentiments on the great subjects of religion and politics were congenial with his own; his conversation, released from all restraint, was truly delightful, and often highly instructive; abounding in acute and powerful observations, happily or forcibly expressed, in pleasing or striking illustration, in bold and brilliant repartee, and in well-drawn characters and curious anecdotes of distinguished men of his own or of former times. The topics were not always started by himself; he willingly followed at any time the lead of others; and taking up almost any subject suggested by them, he made it his own, and seldom failed to excite the admiration of all present, by the extent and accuracy of his information, and by the justness, the reasonableness, the strong sense, and often the deep reflection, which distinguished almost all his opinions. One,1 who was aided by his instructions in youth, and guided by his advice in maturer age, and who always listened to him with the profoundest attention, in a letter to the writer, thus describes the effect produced on his mind:—“There were times,

1 Joseph Parkes, Esq., author of “History of the Court of Chancery.”

when the wisdom of his conversation excited in me the idea of nothing less than the inspiration of which we read in certain holy books.”—“Et alta et divina quadam mente præditus.”

“Though I have met many, if not most of my countrymen distinguished for literature or science,” says Dr. Gooch, “I have seldom heard any thing equal to, and never any thing more striking than his conversation. It was spirited—often vehement—it surpassed the rest of the company, more in quality than in quantity; for while it was sufficiently distinguished by the value of the thought, or the felicity of the expression, there was never that everlasting flow, which sometimes overlays and smothers conversation. When he said any thing striking, it was accompanied by a dictatorial manner, an uplifted arm, and a loud voice; but you could perceive an under expression of humour, as if he was conscious, and meant it to be understood, that it was a piece of acting. In his opinions, there was a simplicity, a common sense, a dislike of refinement and paradox, which I was not prepared for: they were the sentiments of a man of good sense, sometimes very simply, sometimes very strikingly expressed.”1

Before strangers he was often reserved; and though seldom silent, was cautious, on such occasions, in the choice both of his topics, and of the language which he employed in discussing them. “I do not allow myself,” said he, “to converse upon every subject to which I have attended, before every man whom I meet.”2—“I quite

Blackwood’s Mag. Oct. 1825. 2 Reply to Combe, p. 72.

shrink,” he writes to a friend, “from the very thought of joining the large and promiscuous company, to which you invite me. This kind of society I have found, by experience, to be extremely inconvenient and unpleasant; and it would oblige me to submit to multiplied restraints, which prudence instructs me, in such company, to put upon my conversation.” To another invitation, not perfectly agreeable to him, which came from a lady, he thus writes in reply, with good humour smiling through his anger:—“Dear H—, You have more than forty times heard me express my reluctance to meet strangers; and you must have frequently seen the inquietude I felt in their presence. However, I will come; and unless you, by your attempts at logic or at eloquence, put me into bad humour, I shall make a silent one, or a stupid one, of your party; or, if things go wrong, a bowing, and a soft-tongued, and a swift-removing guest. Dear H—, thou hast a demon, and art half-mad and quite bad; and so, farewell! Believe me, your angry friend, S. Parr.”—“To Mrs. ——, with Dr. Parr’s frowns.”

His learning, which was poured forth, so promptly and so copiously when required, Dr. Parr never suffered, on ordinary occasions, to appear at all; and the littleness of pedantry is, in no degree, to be imputed to him, in conversation at least, whatever may be said of his writings. He has been accused of speaking with too much complacency of himself; but such instances of vanity, never very frequent nor very obtrusive, may easily be pardoned in one, who could not be unconscious of his own talents and acquirements; and who was perpetually receiving the tribute of their praise from writers of the greatest name, and from visitors and correspondents of the highest rank. Indeed, when he spoke of his learning, it was always as a claim, universally admitted; and to which, therefore, it was entirely unnecessary to assert his pretensions. There were, besides, a sincerity and a frankness in his very nature, which seemed to scorn disguise, and to spurn at the common restraints of propriety and decorum. Whatever emotions were strongly excited within, he was sure to express, especially when surrounded by his friends, with all the simplicity and openheartedness of a child; and, no doubt, he sometimes gave utterance, too inconsiderately, though not often very offensively, to the exultings of self-estimation, which most men endeavour to conceal from others, though all acknowledge to themselves. But if he did occasionally speak of his own powers of mind, and of his stores of intellectual wealth; at other times, throwing a glance over the vast field of human inquiry, he would say, with unaffected humility, that what he knew was nothing compared with what he knew not. When receiving the compliments, which his literary celebrity so often called forth, he has frequently declared, that it was not, so much, on that account that he valued himself, as on his solicitude to carry the high moral principles, which he admired, into the conduct of life.

He has been charged with the fault of talking too much, and leaving no room for others to speak. But this is not much to be wondered at, and little to be complained of; when it is considered that those who gathered round him came for the very purpose of hearing him converse, and were seldom disposed to talk more than was necessary to keep the stream of conversation full and flowing.

If his manner, acquired in the long exercise of scholastic authority, was too dictatorial, yet it was not often over-bearing; and there was not an atom in his temper either of harshness, or of moroseness, or of contemptuousness. He rarely employed the keenness of his wit, or the caustic powers of his language for the purposes of annoyance; and he was seldom provoked to angry severity, and yet more rarely to scornful derision, except by presuming ignorance, by prating dulness, or, above all, by censorious bigotry. “I am far more addicted,” he said of himself,1 “to anger than to contempt. But if my censures are severe, I hope that my commendations are more frequent, and no less forcible. I am sure, too, that I have much oftener had reason to repent of my precipitation in praise, than of my injustice in reproach. Against the babble of conceited sciolists—against the clamours of saucy pretenders—against the decisions of pompous and officious dogmatists, I do indulge contempt.” When such he met, then, indeed, he did not spare; nor rested till he had laid his adversary prostrate, or compelled him to submissive silence.

But in all other cases, he was kind and condescending even to men of the humblest intellect. He delighted to discover, and to bring into notice,

1 Reply to Combe, p. 20.

modest worth; and always applauded generously, and sometimes lavishly, what he thought worthy of praise. Instead of exposing, it was much oftener observed that he patiently corrected, the mistakes of the ill-informed, or the ill-judging; and so far from taking advantage of the hesitation or confusion by which some men of good sense, in explaining their ideas, embarrass themselves, or perplex and distress others, he would come promptly to their aid, seize instantly their meaning, and clothe it in clear and intelligible language, with some such prefatory words as these—“This is what you mean;” or, “Now, you should put it thus.”1

In the same spirit of kind consideration for others, when he saw a man, perhaps, of strong sense and of real worth, but of few words, hard pressed by another in conversation, he would fly, in the moment of difficulty, to his relief. As an instance, it is related that when Mr. C——, a man sparingly endued with diction, was pushed in argument beyond his strength, by the celebrated Sir James Mackintosh, Dr. Parr interposed, and rescued the weaker from the grasp of the stronger adversary. “Ah!” said Sir James, “it was a rescue, like that of Virgil’s Æneas by a cloud; but it was a cloud of words.” On another occasion, when the same powerful disputant was engaged in a colloquial contest, to which he was more than equal. Dr. Parr again interposed; observing, “Friend I—cannot talk you down, Jemmy; but he can think you down, Jemmy.”

His stores of biographical and literary anecdotes

1 New Monthly Mag. May, 1826.

were abundant; and, in relating them, dialogue and narrative were agreeably blended, in a manner peculiarly his own. Though he delighted most in the easy careless flow of unrestrained conversation; yet sometimes his discourse would take the form of a set harangue, extended to considerable length, and delivered with oratorical effect. Of this an instance occurs to the writer’s recollection. He was dining some years ago at Hatton, in company with several clergymen; and among them was an Irish dignitary, who talked long and loudly of “our excellent church,” of “our venerable establishment;” in whose fair face, it should seem, he could discover “neither spot nor wrinkle, nor any such thing.”

Having suffered him to run the whole length of his line, with no other interruption but a smile, now and then, of pity, or a frown, sometimes, of displeasure, Dr. Parr rose at length from his seat; and, after puffing in clouds for a moment or two, laid down his pipe—then resting one arm on the table, and enforcing all he said, by the ponderous movements of the other, he broke out into a vehement declamation on the state of the church—painting in glaring colours the grievances under which “it was sick, though, he hoped, not dying”—especially in the unequal distribution of its revenues—in the mysticism of some parts of its creed—in the absurdity of some of its articles—in the servile spirit, too prevalent both among its higher and lower clergy—and in their obstinate resistance to the most reasonable and desirable improvements. He insisted that the church was fast losing ground, both in the esteem of the more reflecting part, and in the affections of the great body of the community. “Unitarians,” said he, “multiply and calmly persevere. Methodists multiply, and rage and swagger. High churchmen hate both and abuse both; and deny the necessity of reforming themselves.”—“The church is in danger. I own it,” said he, “but let them look to it who have brought it on; and who will not adopt the only method for saving us.”—“Reform,” cried he, roaring out with a voice that literally thundered, and assuming an attitude which seemed to defy all contradiction—“Reform! I say, is the only safety for our church. As sure as the uprooted tree must bend, or the tower undermined must bow—so surely our church must fall, unless it be refixed in the good opinion of the people.” Then turning to the reverend dignitary, “Sir,” said he, “I give you your choice—reform? or ruin?”—“and mark my words, within twenty years, that choice, which ever it be, must take effect.” He concluded with giving as a toast, “The Church of England and Ireland! may it be delivered from all its enemies, and from undistinguishing admirers and extravagant encomiasts—of all its enemies the worst!”

That Dr. Parr was highly and sometimes fiercely indignant, when encountered by ignorance, talking with the confidence of knowledge, or folly aping the air of wisdom, must be known to all who have heard of him. The following instances are within the recollection of many of his friends.

He was insisting upon the importance of discipline, established on a wise system, and enforced with a steady hand, in schools, in colleges, in the navy, in the army—when he was suddenly and somewhat rudely interrupted by a young officer, who had just received his commission, and was not a little proud of his blushing honours. “What, sir,” said he, “do you mean to apply that word discipline to the officers of the army! It may be well enough for the privates.”—“Yes, sir, I do,” was the stern reply; “it is discipline makes the scholar—it is discipline makes the soldier—it is discipline makes the gentleman—and the want of discipline has made you—what you are.” To another young man, by whom he had been much annoyed, he said, “Sir, your tongue goes to work before your brain; and when your brain does work, it generates nothing but error and absurdity.” To a third, who was one of bold and forward, but ill-supported pretensions, he said, “B—, you have read little—thought less—and know nothing.”

It happened in a large company that the question was proposed to him, and urgently pressed upon him, why he had not published more?—or something more worthy of his fame? The expressions of surprise and regret, which went round the company, he bore with perfect good humour; till at length a young scholar, jestingly, perhaps, but somewhat pertly, called to him—“Suppose, Dr. Parr, you and I were to write a book together?”—“Young man,” he replied, “if all were to be written in that book which I do know, and which you do not know, it would be a very large book indeed!”

Even ladies were not spared, who incurred his displeasure, either by pertinacious adherence to the wrong in opinion, or by deficiency of attention to the right and the amiable in conduct. To one, who had violated, as he thought, some of the little rules of propriety, he said—“Madam, your father was a gentleman, and I thought that his daughter might have been a lady.” To another, who had held out in argument against him, not very powerfully, and rather too perseveringly, and who had closed the debate by saying—“Well! Dr. Parr, I still maintain my opinion;” he replied—“Madam, you may, if you please, retain your opinion, but you cannot maintain it.” To another, who had also ventured to oppose him, with more warmth of temper than cogency of reasoning, and who afterwards apologised for herself, by saying, “that it is the privilege of women to talk nonsense.”—“No, madam,” replied Dr. Parr, “it is not their privilege, but their infirmity. Ducks would walk if they could; but nature suffers them only to waddle.”

Though a decided and ardent politician, Dr. Parr was seldom betrayed into the injustice of denying the real merits of those, to whom he was opposed; or of rejecting the fair palliations, of which their political delinquencies may, in many cases, admit: yet he was sometimes severe in his remarks upon public men, and especially upon those, who, in deserting their party, incur the suspicion of base dereliction of principle, even in despite of their own claim of acting from honest change of opinion.

Of a living senator of high powers and attainments, who had been guilty of some great errors, both in his public and private conduct, he said, “He is one of the most intellectual of God’s creatures; but one half of his mind is employed in giving effect to his villany, and the other half in finding a shelter for it.”—Describing the eloquence of a great orator and statesman, now no more, he said, “It was at best but a plausible and popular eloquence, which glitters with puerile points, which swells with tumid insignificance, which carries its bombast almost to frenzy, and mistakes the rash for the sublime.”—Of another orator, still more recently deceased, undoubtedly the greatest of his time, Dr. Parr thought—that his style of speaking marked, too much, on some occasions, the declaimer from the schools, and, on others, the wrangler from the bar: and lamenting over his eloquence, when too often employed, as it once was, in giving speciousness to error, and the semblance of justice to wrong, he said to a friend—“Sir, his speeches are froth—sometimes sugared froth—sometimes peppered froth; but froth always!”

If there was one offence, more than another, which excited in Dr. Parr’s mind feelings of disgust and disdain, it was petulant remark, or indecent wit, or vulgar abuse, directed towards religious subjects. He would listen, with candid attention, to calm and sober reasoning, even though pointed against the most sacred principles of natural or revealed religion; but with no patience could he bear “the effrontery of the libertine, the arrogance of the scoffer, or the impiety of the blasphemer.” How he felt upon such occasions, he has himself told in the following passage:—

“I have met with several persons, who were ready enough to confess, and even eager to avow and defend, their infidelity. I must acknowledge that their language, in my presence, at least, was decorous; and that their aim, as it appeared to me, was rather to vanquish by disputation, than to insult by profaneness. The yell of blasphemy never assailed my ears from more than one human voice, and that voice has long been silenced by death. Firmly, but not in the gall of bitterness, I bestowed upon the defender the discipline he deserved, for a most unprovoked outrage; and I have often thought it was well that a table stood between us; for he had the grim visage of a ruffian; and his hands, I know, had been imbued in the blood of a fellow-creature. Ειδως αύτν το ονομα, says an old writer, ουχ επιμνησθήσομαι. But I am glad he was not an Englishman.”1

Once being in company with a young man of noble family, of much kindness of temper, and excellence of general character, but who had suffered himself, in an unguarded moment, to indulge his pleasantry at the expense of his better feelings, and had proposed to him, with an air of laughing levity, that question—“whether he thought, the cross on the back of the ass was really occasioned by our Saviour’s riding on that animal into Jerusalem?”—Dr. Parr instantly replied, with knit brow and raised voice—“Mr. S. D., it would be

1 Spital Sermon, p. 91.

well if you had a little more of the cross, and a little less of the ass!”

Some years ago, Dr. Parr was passing a few days with an old pupil, an eminent barrister, at his house in Staffordshire, when it happened that another visiting inmate was the celebrated H. C., Esq., a brother barrister. One day, a large company were invited to dinner, consisting, amongst others, of several neighbouring clergymen; of whom one was fresh from college, just initiated into holy orders, and strangely ignorant, or strangely forgetful of the little proprieties which regulate social intercourse, at least in the higher circles. This young ecclesiastic, whether conceitedly, for the purpose of display, or unseasonably, if with a view of gaining information, proposed to Dr. Parr question after question, on subjects of theology, much to the offence of the great divine, who exceedingly disliked the introduction of such topics in mixed companies, at festival entertainments. Not, however, deterred by the evident displeasure, with which his questions were received, or rather repulsed, he still persisted; and, among other inquiries, pressed, with peculiar earnestness, for an answer to the following:—“Whether Mahomet had ever seen the Christian Scriptures?” “Sir,” answered Dr. Parr, coldly and tauntingly, “I have not the pleasure of Mahomet’s acquaintance.”—“But,” resumed the querist, “Dr. Parr, do you think that Mahomet had seen only a false gospel, and the epistle falsely ascribed to Barnabas?”—“Sir, I have not the honour of knowing Mr. Barnabas either,” re-plied Dr. Parr, with increased sternness of accent and manner. But, nothing daunted even by this rebuff, the young inquisitive returned once more to the charge:—“Excuse me, Dr. Parr; but let me ask you, do you think that Mahomet had ever seen a true gospel or not?”—“Sir,” answered Dr. Parr, greatly irritated, “if you will draw my teeth, why, then, to save my dinner, I must say that I think Mahomet had never seen a true gospel.”—“And pray,” said Mr. C., who had been looking on, watching, perhaps, with a little spiteful pleasure the old lion, vexed and chafed by the teazing buzz of the insect, calling out from the corner of the table where he sat—“And pray, Dr. Parr, did you ever see a true gospel?”

Unprepared for this new and sudden attack, Dr. Parr seemed for a moment confounded; and the attention of the whole company was anxiously directed towards him. But soon recovering himself, and rising from his seat, with an imposing air of dignity, and with a commanding voice of authority, he spoke thus:—“H. C., if you had ever seen a true gospel, you could not have understood the learned language in which it is written; and if you had seen that true gospel, and could have understood that learned language, you could not have comprehended the sublime character it delineates, or the pure morals it inculcates; and if you could have read that true gospel, and comprehended that sublime character, and those pure morals; yet, to shelter your own bad propensities and habits, you would have struggled hard to prove the character a fiction, and the morals a falsehood!” It scarcely need be added, that all present were struck with mingled awe and admiration; the bold assailant was abashed, and sunk into silence, from which, during the evening, he could not recover; and after indulging in his usual deep potations, he was carried off senseless to his bed.

The following anecdote is told by one of Dr. Parr’s pupils:—Of flippancy of remark on religious subjects he was highly impatient. He once, in my hearing, rebuked Mr. F——, a barrister, in good set terms. This gentleman had somewhat inconsiderately observed, that it was human authority which had put the seal of authenticity on the books of Scriptures; and that the councils of Trent and Nice had decided which were apocryphal, and which were not so. Dr. Parr with some difficulty heard him to the end of his sentence; when, after a most ominous puff from his pipe, he addressed him nearly in these words: “Mr. Frith, or Mr. Forth, or Mr. Froth—excuse me if I forget your name—I have not the honour of your acquaintance; and the specimen you have just given of your theological knowledge does not make me highly ambitious of it. Sir, give me leave to tell you, that you are as far from correct chronology in your remark, as you are from right reasoning. These two councils, which sat at widely remote periods of time, had nothing to do with the distinction of books, as at present received into our church. It arose from the consent of the early Christians, and is built upon the authority of the ancient fathers. You have given an opinion upon a subject which you ought not to have approached; and have betrayed ignorance without modesty, and pedantry without learning. Leave these matters to maturer knowledge and sounder understandings. This advice I honestly give you. In the words of Lucretius I will enforce it: Ne mea dona, tibi studio disposta fideli, Intellecta priusquam sint, contempta relinquas.”1

Of all the species of wit, punning was one which Dr. Parr disliked, and in which he seldom indulged; and yet some instances of it have been related. Reaching a book from a high shelf in his library, two other books came tumbling down; of which one, a critical work of Lambert Bos, fell upon the other, which was a volume of Hume, “See!” said he, “what has happened—procumbit humi bos.”—On another occasion, sitting in his room, suffering under the effects of a slight cold, when too strong a current was let in upon him, he cried out, “Stop! stop! that is too much. I am at present only par levibus ventis.” At another time, a gentleman having asked him to subscribe to Dr. Busby’s translation of Lucretius, he declined to do so, saying it would cost too much money; it would indeed be “Lucretius carus.”

Speaking of this play upon words, he said that it betrays an intrinsic poverty in the language which easily admits it; and that the richest language, the Greek, was the least susceptible of it. That language was, he remarked, so copious, as to supply words for almost every shade or variety of thought, so as not often to require the use of the same word in different senses. Not, he added,

1 Luc. lib. i. 1. 47.

that there are no Greek puns. There are many, he said, in Aristæus, and some in Aristophanes. He instanced one in Ælian, which he thought tolerable. A loquacious traveller had been talking much of himself, and had tired every one present with his accounts of countries which he had traversed, and of places which he had visited, when a Grecian lady interposed, by observing that though he had just come from the Hellespont, there was one place, however, on that coast, in which it was plain he had never been. “What is that?” he demanded eagerly; “Sigæum”1 was the answer; and the equivoque silenced him.2

If he was not displeased with this instance of an ancient, the following instance of a modern Greek pun extorted from him applause. He had been engaged in a warm debate with “his acute and learned friend,” as he describes him, Mr. Payne Knight, who gained a considerable advantage over him, and said something by which he was so irritated, that he exclaimed, “Sir, this is not fair argument: it is downright impudence.”—“True, Doctor,” said Mr. Knight, “the Greek word for it is Παρρησία.” In an instant, all his ill-humour disappeared. He was not only appeased, but delighted; and shaking his antagonist by the hand, cried out, “A fair retort! Sir, I forgive you! I forgive you!” and then laughed heartily.3

From the dignity of literary or other important discussions, he was never unwilling, especially on

1 In the Greek σιγη, which signifies silence.

2 New Monthly Mag. Dec. 1826.

3 Ibid. Aug. 1826.

joining the ladies in the drawing-room, to descend to the level of ordinary conversation, on any little topics of the day or the place; delighting every one by the kindness and affability of his manner, and communicating to all the effects of his own gaiety and good-humour. Even on children he often bestowed his attention, and was glad to amuse and interest them, by some striking remark or pleasing story. He had a custom of sometimes taking them in his arms, and pronouncing over them a sort of benediction, apparently accompanied by a mental prayer, as if in their behalf.

The following note in reply to a much-esteemed friend, who often invited him to enjoy the pleasures of a social pipe, in a room of his house, of which he was fond, shows how much he was pleased with easy unrestrained interchange of thoughts on any or all the little occurrences of common and daily life:—

“My friend,—What you said to me about the smoking-cell vibrated to my very heart, as worthy of the kindness which, for many years, and upon many subjects, you had professed, and you had felt, and you had practically manifested towards myself. Yes, into the little room, of which you spoke so courteously, I will come: talk unreservedly, cheerfully, and abundantly upon any thing or nothing; and fumigate the ceiling, from the hot, and copious, and fragrant exhalations of my pipe.”

The gay delight with which he always met company, and his desire that all should truly enjoy themselves, on such occasions, appear in the following note of invitation to a friend:—

“Dear Mrs. Edwards,—Do your duty on Monday. Bring your husband to dinner. Listen to Dr. B— about good, sound orthodoxy; to Mr. M— about the virtues of jalap and Leamington waters; to Mr. K— about the mysteries of oriental mythology, theology, and theogony; and to Dr. Parr, thin B—, and Jack B—, about any thing or nothing. You may also talk scandal or love, or both, with seven-petticoated bipeds. Farewell.—S. P.”

CHAPTER X. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s friends in his later years—Mr. Chandos Leigh—Mr. Webb—Dr. Maltby—Dr. Butler—Mr. R. Kennedy—Mr. Corrie—Mr. Bartlam—Mr. Coke—Mr. Roscoe—Duke of Sussex—Dukes of Bedford, Norfolk, and Leinster—Lord Holland—Lord John Russell—Mr. Rogers, &c. &c. &c.—Dr. Parr’s admiration of female excellence in Mrs. Sheridan—Mrs. Opie—Mrs. Dealtry, &c.

Whilst Dr. Parr, advancing beyond the age of seventy, had, like all who approach the extreme limits of human existence, to lament the loss of most of his earliest, and many of his best friends; there were still many, in whose society he sought and found the enjoyments, which social intercourse always afforded him in so high a degree. Among these, in his immediate neighbourhood, besides his old friends, Mr. Greatheed, Mr. Tomes, and Mr. Parkes, were Mr. Twamley of Warwick, Dr. Middleton of Leamington, and the late truly upright and amiable Bayes Cotton, Esq. of Kenilworth; for whom, and for all the members of his large family,1 he entertained a sincere and affectionate regard.

He had also, in 1813, the happiness of acquiring an excellent neighbour and friend, in the late J. H.

1 “I give a ring to Samuel Cotton, Esq. of Basinghall-street, as a mark of my personal esteem for him and his family, and of my thankfulness for his meritorious kindness to my grand-daughters.”—Dr. Parr’s will.

Leigh, Esq.; who, about that time, came into possession of the noble mansion and vast estates of Stoneleigh Abbey; and, after his death another, in his son and successor, Chandos Leigh, Esq.:” of whom Dr. Parr expressed his opinion in the following terms—“a lively companion, an elegant scholar, a zealous patriot, and an amiable and honourable man.” He often congratulated the friends of liberty in Warwickshire, on the support which their cause must derive from the residence among them of one, so ardently devoted to it, and possessing the influence, which rank and fortune always command; and most of all, when adorned and dignified by cultivated talent, and by pure and elevated character.

Another event of recent date, which Dr. Parr hailed, he said, “with swelling pride and thrilling joy,” as happy for Warwickshire, was, the appearance of a zealous patriot, where it might be least expected, in the ranks of its gentry: among whom, perhaps, more than in any other county, the highest toryism, it is well known, thrives in all its vigour. This was Arthur Gregory, Esq. of Stivichall; who, rejecting the more confined and less generous views of those immediately around him, adopted as the result of his own inquiries, and avowed, from the impulse of his own high and independent spirit, the wiser and sounder principles, which derive the origin of all just govern-

1 “Three Tracts, &c.—Juvenile Poems, &c. by Chandos Leigh, &c.—The gifts of the author, an ingenious poet, an elegant scholar, and my much-esteemed friend.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 523.

ment from the will of the people, and place the true end of it in its fitness to secure and promote their freedom, their improvement, and their happiness.

The writer is ambitious to record in his pages the honour of another distinguished patriot, ardent, active, long-tried, well-proved, of whom Dr. Parr entertained a high opinion; and whose exertions in cherishing the sacred flame of liberty, especially in times when it seemed to be almost expiring, have conferred the most important obligations on Warwickshire. To none, living within the precincts of the county, would it be necessary to subjoin the name of Francis Canning, Esq. of Foxcote.

Though from the days of John Rous, the celebrated antiquary, who died in the reign of Henry VII., through a long succession of years, Warwick has produced no person of eminence in learning or science; yet now it may boast of having given birth to a man of genius and a scholar, in Walter Savage Landor, Esq., author of “Gebirus,” and of “Idyllia Heroica,” &c., and is still more known to the public as the author of “Imaginary Conversations:” a work generally and justly admired for the originality of thought, the depth of reflection, and the free and fearless spirit of inquiry, which it exhibits; and for the style, always animated, and often powerful, in which it is written. Mr. Landor has, for some time past, ceased to reside in his native town; but, whilst a near neighbour, he was a frequent visitor of Dr. Parr, at Hatton; who, in a letter of introduction to a literary friend, thus speaks of him:—“In the course of the summer, you will be called upon by Mr. Walter Landor, who is going on a tour to the lakes. He is my particular friend. He is impetuous, openhearted, magnanimous; largely furnished with general knowledge; well versed in the best classical writers; a man of original genius, as appears in his compositions both in prose and verse; a keen hater of oppression and corruption; and a steady friend to civil and religious liberty. I am confident you will be much interested by his conversation; and it is my good fortune to know that his talents, attainments, and virtues, amply compensate for all his singularities.”

Warwick may also reckon with pride another in the number of its native sons, Mr. Badams, who has acquired much and deserved celebrity by great powers of mind, ardently devoted to the pursuits of science and the improvement of the useful arts. Among the excellencies to be recorded by the biographer of Dr. Parr, one is the care and the kindness, with which he air ways noticed and fostered retired, modest, and especially youthful talent and merit. Many are the young men whom, at different times, he received into his protection; whom he aided by his instructions, guided by his advice, and encouraged by his praise; and among these may be particularly mentioned Mr. Badams, and Wm. Lowndes, Esq. The former is now rising high in fame and fortune, as an ingenious, laborious, and successful chymist, at Birmingham; the latter has appeared with distinguished reputation, as a barrister, in the Court of Chancery; and few have done more honour to the sagacity which first discerned and to the friendly anxiety and assiduity, which afterwards watched and cherished the opening qualities of mind and character, which in these, and other instances, have since been displayed in their full expansion to the world.

The writer well remembers an interesting story told him by Dr. Parr, of a young man of promising abilities, whom he found in the station of a common servant; who, under his auspices, received an education sufficient to qualify him for entering into holy orders; who, in consequence of his strong recommendations, was regularly ordained by the bishop; and who is now a clergyman of the church, in the west of England. Other instances of a similar kind are well known to many of his friends.

Among those in his immediate neighbourhood, with whom Dr. Parr most frequently associated, and to whom he was most indebted for those little personal attentions which contributed to the ease and comfort of his later years, were the Rev. Elias Webb,1 and the Rev. John Kendall. For some time past, the Rev. Dr. Wade2 has been necessarily resident at Cambridge; yet he always rejoiced

1 “Virgilii Opera, cura et studio H. Justice.—This volume was given to Dr. Parr by his much-esteemed neighbour, the Rev. Elias Webb.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 695.

2 This gentleman adopts for his model the subject of these “Memoirs,” as the most perfect and attractive example of religious charity, which has been, in our time, exhibited. That he has largely imbibed the spirit he professes to admire, and that he is a disciple worthy of the master he has chosen to follow, is proved by his excellent “Letter to the late Mr. Canning,” in which he nobly declares himself the advocate of unlimited toleration; and by another letter, which is here, with his permission, subjoined. It is addressed to the present writer;

when opportunity offered to renew his visits at Hatton, and was always received with the kindest welcome. Of other clerical friends, there were few in whose society Dr. Parr more delighted than in that of the Reverend Dr. Butler, Rann Kennedy, J. Corrie, and J. Yates.1 The two former are distinguished members of his own church; and the two latter were not less the object of his esteem, because they belonged to another. As his attentive and obliging amanuensis, who resided for some time under his roof, Dr. Parr owed much to the services of E. H. Barker, Esq. of Thetford, formerly of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Editor of “Henry Stephens’ Thesaurus.”

But there was no one of his friends in whom he

who is sure that his readers, if capable in any degree of admiring generous sentiments of candour, clothed in the most graceful and engaging forms, will peruse it with high delight.

“Reverend Sir,—A gentleman, who officiated for me a few Sundays ago, took occasion to direct an attack against those persons, who used the liberty, which, by undoubted right, they possess, of leaving the Church of St. Nicholas, for the advantage of being your auditors. I beg leave to assure you that such use of my pulpit was as disagreeable to me as it was unexpected. I wish my pulpit to be a place for delivering exhortations, relative to the great principles of our common Christianity, and not for uttering harsh or angry animadversions on the tenets or the conduct of those who may conscientiously dissent.—I am, Rev. Sir, with much respect, your obliged servant,

“A. S. Wade.” “Vicarage St. Nicholas, March 21, 1821.”

1 See a tribute to the memory of Dr. Parr, given by the Rev. Mr. Yates in a sermon delivered at the New Meeting-house, Birmingham.—App. No. VIII.

reposed greater confidence, and for whom he felt more affectionate regard, than the late Rev. John Bartlam, formerly his pupil, afterwards his almost constant domestic visitant; who devoted himself for many years, by every kind and prompt exertion of personal service, to his ease and happiness; and on whose death, which happened two years before his own, Dr. Parr said, and might well say, “that the loss of a companion so amiable, and of a friend so faithful, was to him irreparable.”

Dr. Parr’s love of social intercourse led him to seek the pleasures of it, beyond the limits of his own neighbourhood, by frequent excursions to the residence of distant friends; and so extensive was his acquaintance, that he found, in almost every part of the kingdom, those whose doors gladly opened to receive him. There were few of his numerous visits of which he was accustomed to speak with more satisfaction than those to Mr. Dealtry of Bradenham, Mr. Bartlam of Alcester, and Dr. Maltby of Bugden. It was impossible that he should not feel the honour and the pleasure of having been several times a welcomed guest at Arundel Castle, at Woburn Abbey, at Cossey Hall,1 and in the mansion of the Princess of Wales at Blackheath.

But gratifying to him, above most others, were his visits to Holkham, the seat of Thomas William Coke, Esq.; in whose friendly regards he had the happiness to obtain a high place. Here he often passed several weeks, in the full enjoyment of all the pleasures which a princely abode, surrounded

1 The seat of the present Lord Stafford.

by beautiful scenery, and splendid entertainments, graced and enlivened by well-informed and well-selected company, could afford. In a letter to his friend, Mr. Parkes, dated Holkham, August 22, 1816, thus in gay and animated strains his pen flows on:—“I arrived here on Monday; and here for some time I shall stay. Oh! you ought to be with us! in a mansion so magnificent—with banquets so hospitable—in society so enlightened, and interesting—and with a host so intelligent, upright, polite, magnanimous, and benevolent. How do I wish you were here!—S. P.”

The pure and exalted character, traced by a few strokes in the above letter, is drawn with a stronger hand, and somewhat more at length, in the following dedicatory lines, beginning with what the distinguished patriot probably regards as not the least part of his praise. They are addressed to him, “as the personal and political friend of the late Charles James Fox—the faithful and independent representative of the county of Norfolk—the judicious and munificent promoter of agricultural improvements—the steady guardian of constitutional freedom—the resolute opposer of intolerance, corruption, and unnecessary war—a gentleman in his manners and spirit—and a Christian in his faith and practice.”

Speaking of the “great commoner,” as he loved to designate him, when his fair claims to the honours of the peerage had been the subject of discussion, Dr. Parr said, “Talk of titles! why, Coke of Norfolk is a higher title than any that kings can bestow!” A last grateful and admiring testimony he has placed among the records of his “Will,” in the few expressive words following: “To his honoured friend and patron, Thomas Coke, Esq. of Holkham, whose exemplary virtues in public and private life shed additional lustre upon his ample fortune and his elevated station in society.”

But even the charms of Holkham scarcely exceeded, in Dr. Parr’s estimation, the pleasures which his visits afforded him at Allerton Hall, near Liverpool, at that time the residence of William Roscoe, Esq.1 The publication of “the Life of Lorenzo de Medici,” as already noticed, led to an epistolary correspondence; and from that time Dr. Parr conceived and cherished the desire of forming a personal acquaintance with the author: but it was not till the year 1806 that a favourable opportunity occurred. Early in the spring of that year, for the first time, he visited Mr. Roscoe at Allerton: and how much he was delighted by the attentions which he received, and by the society to which he was introduced, he has himself expressed in a letter, dated Hatton, March 25, 1806, of which the following is an extract:—“Dear Mr. Roscoe,—I am now in my sixtieth year. I have conversed with the wisest and most learned of my contemporaries; and I say to you, with great sincerity, that the days, I spent with you and your family, were among the happiest days of my life.

1 “Thesaurus Cornucopiæ et Horti Adonidis Græce, folio, &c.—This book was given me by my most enlightened and honourable friend, William Roscoe, Esq. of Liverpool. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 268.

I shall remember you; I shall esteem you; I shall praise you; I shall bless you, one and all, again and again. Yes! dear sir, I am thankful to Heaven, for granting me such an intellectual and such a moral repast. I shall again be thankful, if I am permitted again to see you and your wife and children. I am, &c.—S. P.”

A second visit to the same friendly circle, and to the same hospitable mansion, took place in the autumn of 1815; the pleasures of which Dr. Parr anticipated in the following letter, dated Hatton, Sept. 5, 1815:—

“Dear and excellent Mr. Roscoe,—I am looking eagerly forward to the visit which I am to pay you at Liverpool; and most sincerely do I rejoice that my long-tried friend, and much-respected patron, Mr. Coke, is to be of the party. Now, dear sir, I will open to you a little of my views, with unfeigned and unusual gladness. I shall first sojourn with you at Allerton, and shall take care my stay be not tiresome to you. I have promised to spend two or three days with Mr. Martin. I shall give one day to Dr. Crompton, and another to Mr. Shepherd.1 I very seldom preach, except in my own parish church; but, having lately made two sermons, I shall, perhaps, deliver them in your neighbourhood, if the Principal of Brazen-nose should be resident at Liverpool,

1 “Microcosmography, or a Piece of the World Discovered, &c.—The gift of my learned friend, the Rev. Mr. Shepherd of Gateacre, Oct. 6, 1815. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 377. Of the same friend Dr. Parr thus speaks in a letter to Mr. Roscoe:—“Give my best compliments and best wishes to my intelligent, high-spirited, and very honest brother pastor, Mr. Shepherd.”

and think it worth his while to offer me his pulpit. I heard the other day from Mr. Coke. He will write to me again from Lord Anson’s, and fix the day on which we are to set out. I am, &c.—S. P.”

His renewed intercourse with a family, whom he so much esteemed, in company with his excellent friend and patron, and the enlightened society, which he met, rendered his second visit to Allerton Hall as delightful as the first. Thus he expressed his happy and grateful feelings, in a few lines of acknowledgment to his kind host and hostess:—

“And now, dear sir, I must entreat you and Mrs. Roscoe to accept my warm and unfeigned thanks for the hospitable and friendly reception, with which you honoured me at Allerton. To the latest hour of my life shall I remember my tour, with joy and even triumph. Within the same space of time, never was so much happiness, intellectual and moral, crowded upon my mind. Within the same circuit of place, I never met with so many enlightened and interesting companions. As I lay great stress on all the little courtesies, which endear man to man, I beg you will remember me, in strong terms of tenderness and respect, to Mrs. and Misses Roscoe and your sons, to Mr. and Mrs. Martin and their little ones, to Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd, to Dr. Bostock, Dr. Trail, &c. &c. &c. I am, with high regard, yours,—

S. Parr.” “Hatton, November 20th.”

Among his distant excursions, one of the most frequent and most agreeable to Dr. Parr was a visit to the metropolis. Here, when his stay was long, he usually went into lodgings, generally in Carey-street, near the residence of the eminent solicitor, and his own faithful legal adviser, Henry Hoyle Oddie, Esq. This gentleman was a profound admirer of Mr. Pitt, and the intrepid defender of all his measures At his hospitable table, Dr. Parr was often engaged with him “in tremendous colloquial conflicts” on political subjects: on which occasions, says a friend who was sometimes present, “the violence of each was alarming; but they always parted in good humour.”—“His understanding,” said Dr. Parr, speaking of Mr. Oddie, “is one of the strongest I ever grappled with; and his heart is excellent: but, in politics, he is a fanatic.”1

On his arrival in Carey-street, Dr. Parr soon found himself numerously attended by friends, who hastened to him with their kind inquiries and obliging invitations; and often by strangers, who were desirous, from the celebrity of his name, to be introduced to his acquaintance. During his whole stay, though extended to the length of five or six weeks, he was generally engaged to dine out every day, with some public or private party.

From the time of rising to a late hour in the afternoon, he usually remained at his lodgings; and during almost the whole interval, he might have been said to hold a levee, so great was the number, and so constant the succession of persons, who came to see and converse with him. Though he was delighted with all this homage, yet he

1 New Monthly Mag. Aug. 1826.

would sometimes say with an arch smile, “How inconvenient it is to be so notorious!” In his morning dishabille, he was almost as regardless of appearances as in his library at Hatton; but this was carefully exchanged for all the pomp of the clerical dress, on going into company in the evening.1

There was another tax upon his time and his patience, which he was obliged to pay for the privilege of being “so notorious,” in sitting to artists for his picture or his bust: of the former of which there are probably not less than eight or ten, and of the latter, three or four. But that this was a tax not very reluctantly paid, may appear from the following letter addressed to his friend, Mrs. Edwards:—

“London, June 11, 1813.

“Dear Mrs. Edwards,—I thank you for sending the important papers. I have taken care to have what you told me conveyed to the Princess of Wales. Perhaps, in a few days, I shall see her. I dine with a grand party to-morrow. How would you rejoice to see the picture for which I am sitting at this very moment! It is a half-length; and is admired by dukes, archbishops, bishops, lords, and ladies. To-morrow it is to be inspected by some of the royal family. The frame is grand, like those at Guy’s Cliff.—Farewell!—To be sure, after all my fine doings here, I shall be quite stupid in the company of borough-babblers and country bumpkins. Oh! what would you give to ex-

1 New Monthly Mag. July, 1806.

change the female for the male attire, and to be as rakish as I am here!—Once more, farewell!—. The mark of x S. Parr.”

About the same time, and much in the same strain, he wrote to another of his friends:—

“Dear Mr. P.—I hope this will find you in the best health and spirits. I am overwhelmed and distracted by the kindness of my friends. Actually, I have not one moment clear from the engagements of calls, letters, and visitings. I am sitting for my picture to one artist, who will soon finish it; and must sacrifice hours to another, who is equally anxious to take my visage. You do right to tell me of B—’s misfortune. I shall give him a guinea. Again, I repeat, never, never was I so overwhelmed by dukes, bishops, lords, ladies, baronets, and scholars. Your true friend,—S. P.”

Among “the grandees,” as Dr. Parr usually styled them, alluded to in the above letter, who honoured him with their notice, the first mention is due to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, by whom he was graciously received on the terms, not of mere acquaintance, but of friendly intimacy. His reverential and grateful testimony to the illustrious character of the Royal Duke, ennobled more by his excellent qualities than by his elevated rank, Dr. Parr has thus recorded in his “Last Will:”—“I leave a ring, value five guineas, to His Royal Highness the Duke of Sussex, as a mark of my well-founded and unalterable respect for his highly-cultivated understanding, his exalted spirit, and his truly constitutional prin-ciples, worthy as they are of an English prince, the son of my late revered sovereign, George III.”

On his part, the Royal Duke has proclaimed, in a manner worthy of himself, his high regard at once, for two eminent scholars and divines, distinguished in different ways, and attached to different religious communities—yet the object to each other of unfeigned esteem and affection—by placing, in his noble library at Kensington, as companion-pictures, the portraits of Dr. Parr and of Dr. Rees, painted by Mr. Lonsdale. Thus he has displayed the superiority of a mind, which, regarding all other differences as comparatively nothing, looks only to the great distinction of intellectual and moral excellence. When a friend of the writer, a member of the body corporate of London, well known for his attachment to the cause of constitutional liberty, and for his active exertions in its support,1 was visiting the Royal Duke, in his library—having first viewed the fine portrait of Dr. Parr, he turned to that of Dr. Rees, and uttered some expressions of surprise and pleasure at the honour thus done to a divine not of the national church. The liberal and enlightened prince, speaking with fervour, exclaimed, in reply, “I love that good old Non-Con!”

Dr. Parr often talked with high delight of the attentions which he received from another member of the royal family, the Duke of Gloucester; who, though he has not pursued exactly the same bold and decided course of political conduct as his royal rela-

1 Samuel Favell, Esq.

tive, is yet to be proudly numbered among the generous advocates of popular rights and liberties. On the death of the Duke of Grafton in 1811, the honour of being his successor, as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, was conferred, to the great joy of all the friends of freedom, in opposition to some powerful party interests, on the Duke of Gloucester; and none watched the progress of the election with more solicitude, or witnessed its success with more satisfaction, than Dr. Parr. Thus writing to a friend, he expresses himself:—“I was much disappointed in not seeing you at Cambridge Installation. Perhaps there never was any public festivity, where so much good sense was united with so much good humour and good manners; or where learning, wisdom, and true patriotism, had so large a share with rank and fortune, in the splendid exhibition which adorned it. It was the triumph of a good cause: the triumph of personal worth in our Chancellor, and of independence in his constituents.”—It must be added, that the Royal Duke was pleased to transmit, in a handsome and gratifying letter, his acknowledgments to Dr. Parr for his good wishes and his strenuous exertions, on the memorable occasion.

Next to royalty, of the high and the old nobility, always the object of his profound veneration,1 Dr. Parr had the honour and the happiness to reckon, in the number of his friends, the late and the present Dukes of Norfolk, the late and the

1 “Ilium ordinem ab adolescentia gravissimum sanctissimumque duxisset”—Cic.

present Dukes of Bedford,1 the late Duke of Devonshire, the first and the present Marquis of Lansdowne, the late Earl of Donoughmore, Lord Holland,2 Lord Anson; and of those more recently raised to the peerage, Lord Erskine and Lord Hutchinson. Of illustrious commoners, friends of Dr. Parr, what more splendid names can be found than those of Mr. Fox, Mr. Burke, Mr. Windham, Mr. Sheridan, General Fitzpatrick, and Mr. Grattan?—though unhappily from two of these, as already noticed, during his later years, by the collision of political opinion, he was divided.

The lumina civitatis just mentioned, belong most of them to the age gone by. Of those of the present time, inspired by the same patriotic spirit, and guided by the yet more enlightened views which increasing knowledge continually unfolds, occur, in the list of Dr. Parr’s friends, the following names, worthy of all honour—the Marquis of Tavistock, Lord John Russell,3 Lord Althorpe, Sir Francis Burdett, Sir James Mackintosh, and Robert Smith, Henry Brougham, and Thomas Denman, Esqrs.

The three first of distinguished noble family,—

1 “Lord John Russell’s Memoirs of the Affairs of Europe, &c—The gift of his Grace the Duke of Bedford. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 41].

2 “Morcelli Inscriptiones.—From his sincere friend, Vassall Holland. There is no writer on the subject of inscriptions worthy to be compared with Morcellus. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 377.

3 “Quis est illo aut nobilitate, aut probitate, aut optimarum artium studio, aut innocentiâ, aut ullo genere laudis præstantior?”—Cic. Orat. pro Marcello.

and more distinguished still for those qualities which, according to the Roman poet, constitute “nobilitas sola atque unica,”—are mentioned, in the “Last Will” of Dr. Parr, with profound respect “for their intellectual, their political, and their moral excellencies.” He has there recorded, also, his esteem and gratitude towards “his honoured patron,” Sir Francis Burdett; and his high regard for the four celebrated lawyers—no less celebrated as senators—whom he praises “for their talents, patriotism, and integrity.”

Among the literati, whom his visits to London gave him opportunities of meeting, Dr. Parr always mentioned with marked distinction, Samuel Rogers, Esq,1 and Mr. Pettigrew, Mr. Burges, and Mr. Baly of Cumberland-place. The first he admired as a poet, and greatly esteemed as a friend; and the last he praised for qualities which few would appreciate at a higher rate than himself, “as an acute verbal critic, and as a skilful writer of Greek heroics.” In the “Bibliotheca Sussexiana,” lately published, Mr. Pettigrew has displayed his accurate and extensive knowledge as a bibliographer; and Dr. Parr owed to him many obligations for information on the subject, and for assistance in the purchase of books.2 To his “learned friend,”

1 “I give a ring in token of high regard to Samuel Rogers, Esq., author of the justly celebrated poem on the ‘Pleasures of Memory.’”—Last Will of Dr. Parr.

2 “Pettigrew’s Memoirs of Dr. Lettsom, 2 vols Ptttigrew’s Eulogy on Dr. Lettsom.—The above two works were given me by my much respected friend, Mr. T. J. Pettigrew, surgeon, who purchased several books for me with great judgment. S. P.”~Bibl. Parr. p. 408.

Mr. Burges, Dr. Parr was united, not only by the love of letters, but also by attachment to the sacred cause of freedom, as noticed in the following inscription:—“To the Rev. Samuel Parr, LL.D., the staunch friend and advocate of liberty, civil and religious, this play, ‘Sons of Erin, or the Cause of the Greeks,’ is sent as a parting memorial from the author, G. Burges.”1

During a visit in London, in the year 1813, Dr. Parr became acquainted with one of the most extraordinary men of his time, Lord Byron. Though, on his first introduction, he was not very graciously received by the high-born poet, yet this was succeeded by other and more agreeable interviews; and Dr. Parr was led to form a more favourable opinion of his temper and manners. It is at least certain that he was always eager to render the homage of his praise to the elevated genius by which that nobleman was distinguished;2 and that his writings were in the number of the very few works of modern poetry which Dr. Parr could be induced to read. His “Childe Harold,” he thought, incomparably his best production.

It is well known that Dr. Parr was severely

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 514.

2 “Speaking of Lord Byron to a friend—‘He holds my attention,’ said Dr. Parr, ‘and excites my feelings more strongly than any poet I ever read; except,’ added he, after a short pause, ‘the chorusses of Æschylus, and they make me mad.’—‘Byron! the sorcerer! he can do with me as he will. If it be to place me on the summit of a dizzy cliff; if it be to throw me headlong into an abyss; or if to transport me into Elysium, or to leave me alone, on a desert isle—his power is the same!’”—Monthly Mag. Jan. 1826.

satyrized in the “Pursuits of Literature:” a work of great notoriety in its day; but which, as a virulent effusion of party-spirit, will probably soon pass into oblivion: and yet he always admired in its author the high attainments of the scholar, and the great powers of the writer. Regardless of the affront of which he had reason to complain, Dr. Parr was some years ago induced to solicit, in a letter to Mr. Matthias, the favour of his acquaintance; and the overture was received in the same spirit, in which it was offered. An exchange of literary presents, which was followed by other friendly civilities, is thus remembered and acknowledged by Dr. Parr in his “Last Will.” I bequeath a mourning ring to James Matthias, Esq. of Middle Scotland-yard, as a thankful acknowledgment to him for having presented me with that magnificent copy of Gray’s Works, which derives so large a share of its value from the taste, learning, sagacity, and moral principles of an editor, peculiarly qualified to do justice to the transcendental merits of such a scholar and such a poet as Mr. Gray.”1

Writing, during one of his visits in London, to his friend, Mrs. Edwards, thus he exultingly describes the pleasures and the gaieties of his town life:—

“Dear Mrs. Edwards,—This is written by B—, whom I detain in London, that he may see some

1 “Gray’s Works, edited by T. J. Matthias.—Presentation Copy.—No editor ever surpassed Matthias: whom I consider one of the most accomplished scholars of the present day. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 520.

of the fine sights, with an account of which he may regale your itchy ears, when he gets into the murky air of Warwickshire. I never was so dissipated, or so happy; and you shall hear some very fine things when I get home, if you behave prettily. On Tuesday, Lord Moira was of our party. When I saw his ingenuous countenance and majestic air, the tears came into my eyes. There were besides, two earls, one viscount, one baronet, three countesses, Mr. Coke of Norfolk, three ladies, one plain miss, and one grave doctor. Yesterday I was in company with Lord Byron: his manners are amiable, and his genius is exquisite. It was a delightful day: though the company consisted of—whom? Why, nothing but lords and authors; and one man of merit, poignant wit, and a very good scholar. Would you not consent to dress as we males do, for the pleasure of dining with Mr. Grattan, Lord Donoughmore, Lord Hutchinson, and other folks, who have brains as well as titles? God bless you and Mr. E. I am, &c.—S. P.”

On occasion of another visit in London, much in the same strain, he writes to the same friend:—

“Dear Mrs. Edwards,—I write this to inform you that I am very well; and that my friends in town are more numerous than ever. I have seen the Duke of Bedford. I have dined with the Duke of Norfolk, and with the Duke of Gloucester, at his Royal Highness’s mansion; where I met Lord Erskine, who calls upon me to-day, to give me some books. I dined last Monday with Lords Donoughmore and Hutchinson; and met Mr. Grattan. He is by far the most wonderful man I have yet seen. Drs. Lambe and Winthrop1 wish me to dine with them. Never, never, never was I so suitably or so enviably situated, as in the hospitable house of Mr. and Mrs. Montagu. I am, &c.—S. P.”

Dr. Parr was accustomed to speak with something of the gallantry of old times, of the intelligent and accomplished females, whom he had the pleasure to reckon in the number of his friends or acquaintance. In one of his early publications, he has noticed, with approbation, the higher rank in the scale of intellectual and moral improvement, and even of literary distinction, to which women, of late years, have successfully aspired. “They are no longer considered,” says he, “as being what the God of heaven and earth never intended they should be—a useless incumbrance, or a glittering but empty ornament. They are found to be capable both of contributing to our convenience, and of refining our pleasures. Their weakness is, therefore, protected; their fine sensibilities become the object of a regard, which is founded on principle as well as on affection; and their talents are called forth into public notice. Hence the excellence which some of them have displayed in the elegant accomplishments of painting, music, and poetry, in the nice discriminations of biography, in the broader researches of history, and in moral compositions, where the subject is illuminated by the graces of an unaffected and natural eloquence. The truth of this assertion will be readily admitted in an age like our own, which may boast of an

1 See vol. i. p. 219, 220.

Aikin and a More, a Sheridan and a Stewart, a Brooke and a Burney, a Carter and a Montague.”1

The excellencies of female character, as presented to his own immediate observation, Dr. Parr was always quick in discerning, and fervent in admiring. Of Mrs. Sheridan,2 the mother of the celebrated orator, the third among the names just enumerated, he often spoke in terms of high and enthusiastic praise. He said that he had several times seen her, and that she was “quite celestial.” A monumental inscription, drawn up by him, commemorates the honour and the happiness of the husband, in having for his wife “the ingenious and amiable author of Sydney Biddulph, and of several dramatic pieces, which have been well received.”3 With equal or greater admiration, Dr. Parr used to talk of the first wife of Mr. Sheridan; and delighted to describe the extraordinary fascination of her person and manners, and the still more powerful attractions of her understanding and her heart. He cordially joined in the compliment of a distinguished prelate, that “she seemed to be the connecting link between angels and women.” During his occasional visits in London, he generally passed a day or two with her venerable mother, Mrs. Linley, then living, at an advanced age, in Southampton-street, Covent-garden. He said that he could discern in her countenance many of the traits which he had admired in her daughter; and, in reference to her,

1 Discourse on Education, p. 59. 77.

2 Moore’s Life of Sheridan, vol. i. p. 11.

3 See App. No. III.

he remarked that a fine woman in years is viewed with the same sort of feeling with which an old Roman would behold the Temple of the Gods in ruins.1

Of the literary ladies of his time, whose works he praised, and in whose society he delighted, one was Mrs. Opie. “She unites in herself,” said he to a friend, “qualities which we seldom see combined in the same female. She is well-looking; she writes well; she talks well, sings well, dances well; and is altogether not only a very amiable, but a very fascinating woman.”2 The writer, who had the pleasure of meeting, some years ago, Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton, at Hatton, well remembers the cordial welcome, and the respectful attentions, with which she was received and entertained by her delighted host. Always animated in company, he seemed on that occasion to exceed himself in vivacity and gaiety of spirits; and to rejoice in the opportunity of doing honour to a lady of much literary fame; and still more nobly distinguished by the deep-fixed religious principles, and the high-toned moral sentiments, which marked her character. Dr. Parr entertained the highest respect for the genius and virtues of Mrs. Barbauld,3

1 ChMarsh1835.Parriana. Nov. 1826.

2 Ibid. Aug. 1826.

3 Some one said, in Dr. Parr’s presence, that Mrs. Barbauld had written an excellent imitation of the style of Dr. Johnson. Parr—‘She imitate Dr. Johnson! Sir, she has the nodosity of the oak, without its strength—the noise of the thunder without its bolt—the contorsions of the sibyl, without her inspiration.’”—Dr. Gooch in Blackwood’s Mag. Oct. 1815. This

whose earthly course terminated nearly at the same time with his own. The opportunity of personal interviews did not often occur; but the writer, in the habit of visiting both, was often the bearer of messages of kind inquiry and friendly remembrance from one to the other.

Of one excellent lady, now living, Dr. Parr said, “she is for angels to admire, and for men to imitate;” and of another lady, “that her heart has the purity of crystal, without its hardness, and all its brightness, without any of its coldness.” In the fly-leaf of “Rivarol-Discours préliminaire du nouveau Dictionnaire de la Langue Francaise,” is inscribed as follows:—“This book was given to Dr. Parr by his beautiful, witty, sagacious, truth-speaking, warm-hearted, and unfortunate friend, Mrs. A. Green, of Lan-Saint-Frede, Monmouthshire.”

Writing to a female friend, thus he expresses himself:—“My dear H—,—Your eyes would have started with tears of joy, if you had read a letter which came to me this morning from two enlightened and pure-hearted ladies. If my frame were stronger, earth would be, in my present condition, almost an anticipation of heaven: and to Him who dwelleth in heaven, my soul ought to be and is

speech, ascribed by mistake to Dr. Parr, was uttered by Mr. Burke. There is in it far more wit than truth. It is remarkable that, of all his imitators, in Dr. Johnson’s own opinion, the best was Mrs. Barbauld: “for she had imitated,” he said, “not only the cadences of his sentences, but the cast of his thoughts.”

grateful for the exquisite and hallowed pleasure, He has enabled me to feel from the society of the great, the wise, and the virtuous.”

The following portraiture of female loveliness and dignity, shining forth with mild lustre in the character of a deceased lady whom he greatly venerated, is drawn with extraordinary beauty and energy. She was the daughter of Richard Langley, Esq. of Wykeham Abbey, in Yorkshire, and the relict of John Dealtry, M. D., once the highly-favoured pupil of Boerhaave, and afterwards an eminent physician in the city of York.

“The memory of this excellent woman was retentive: her judgment was exact; and the knowledge, which she had acquired from books, was both ornamental and useful; diffusing itself, without ostentation, over the gayest and the most serious subjects, and adapting itself without effort to the lighter and more important concerns of social life. Her penetration into the characters of those, with whom she conversed, was acute, not precipitate; and her remarks upon all their prominent and all their latent varieties were luminous from good sense, not dazzling from refinement. In the distinctions, which she made between merit and demerit, her understanding was neither misled by prejudice, nor warped by envy. Her praise was appropriate without exaggeration, and her censure was significant without asperity. Formed upon that plan of education, which prevailed in the reign of George II., her manners were agreeable and even impressive, from dignified case and uniform propriety; and she united the most unruffled tem-per with the most delicate sensibility. By promoting in her family and in her neighbourhood those innocent recreations, which are suited to the vivacity of youth and the cheerfulness of manhood, she threw around old age an aspect at once amiable and venerable. Her morals were not only blameless, but exemplary; and as her principles of religion were the result of judicious inquiry and frequent meditation, they were exempt alike from the weaknesses of superstition and the reveries of fanaticism. They softened the heart, whilst they enlightened the head. They regulated her actions in this world; and they elevated her hopes to a future and a better state. For more than the space of twenty years, she was afflicted with blindness; and for that of three years, with palsy. But these evils, which, among the generality of mankind, might have clouded the brightness of every joy, and deepened the gloom of every sorrow, were borne by her with the steady fortitude of a heroine, and the humble patience of a Christian. She retained her wonted relish for the pleasures of social intercourse: she preserved the unimpaired and ready use of her intellectual faculties; and with the assistance of her children, as readers to her, she obtained for her curiosity the choicest gratification, which books can supply: she was rescued from those alternate vicissitudes of melancholy and inquietude, which often accompany the loss of sight and debility of limbs; and to her habit of observation upon the events of earlier and happier times, she daily added fresh stores of information, and found in them fresh materials for calm and solemn reflection. Surrounded by the respect of her acquaintance, by the gratitude of her domestics, by the confidence of her friends, and by the most tender affection and dutiful attentions of an eldest son, the only surviver of two infant brothers, and also of two daughters, all of whom had resided with her from their youth, and who felt their own happiness inseparably connected with the comforts and enjoyments of a most deserving parent, she sunk without a struggle, Aug. 23, 1812, under the instantaneous and silent stroke of that death, the approach of which she had long contemplated with unfeigned and unshaken resignation to the will of her Creator.”

CHAPTER XI. A.D. 1816—1820. Comparative view of the three learned professions—Dr. Parr’s preference of the medical profession—His opinion of the ancient physicians—Hippocrates, Celsus, Galen, &c.—His opinion of the modern physicians—Browne, Sydenham, Boerhaave, &c.—His medical friends—Dr. Percival, Dr. Arnold, Dr. James Johnstone, &c.—His opinion of the legal profession—His friendly intercourse with many of its distinguished members—Jones, Erskine, Romilly, &c.—His opinion of some of the church-dignitaries—His friends at Cambridge—at Oxford.

In the comparative view which he often took of the three learned professions, Dr. Parr thought the preference due, in many respects, to the medical.1 “Whilst I allow,” says he, “that peculiar and important advantages arise from the appropriate studies of the three liberal professions, I must confess, that in erudition, in science, and in habits of deep and comprehensive thinking, the pre-eminence must be assigned, in some degree, to physicians.”2 In the hearing, indeed, of the present writer, he has often declared that he consi-

1 “The most desirable profession,” said Dr. Parr, “is that of physic: the practice of the law spoils a man’s moral sense and philosophic spirit: the church is too bigoted and stiff-starched; but the study and practice of physic are equally favourable to a man’s moral sentiments and intellectual faculties.”—Dr. Gooch in Blackwood’s Mag. Oct. 1825.

2 Reply to Combe, p. 82.

dered the medical professors as the most learned, enlightened, moral, and liberal class of the community; and though he often lamented the scepticism on religious subjects which some have shown; yet even this, he thought, might be explained upon principles, which evince the strength rather than the weakness of the human mind, contemplating under certain circumstances the multiplicity and the energy of physical causes. But if the “Religio medici,” when weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, might in some instances be found wanting; yet he consoled himself, he said, with reflecting on the many instances in which there was certainly the deepest conviction of religious truth, not merely declared by an exterior profession, but displayed in all its best and happiest effects on the heart and the conduct. “In support of our sacred cause,” he would often say, “might we not triumphantly appeal to such illustrious names as those of Sir Thomas Browne, Sydenham, Boerhaave, and Hartley, in days that are past; and, in our own times, to those of Gregory, Heberden, Falconer, and Percival?”1

There was no subject on which Dr. Parr delighted to converse more than on the character and the pretensions of the great men, who, at different times, have appeared in the medical world. Speaking of the most distinguished of all the ancient physicians, Hippocrates, he said that he had read much of his works, as much as any man in this country: and he thought that the duties of a physician were never more beautifully exemplified

1 Reply to Combe, p. 83.

than in his conduct, or more eloquently described than in his writings. He often particularly noticed the attention which the great father of physic paid to the nature and properties of water, and its effects on the human frame. This he considered as a subject of far more importance to the medical practitioner than is commonly apprehended; and perhaps the observation was suggested to his mind, by recollecting the laborious researches, directed to that very object, by his much-respected friend, Dr. Lambe; begun during his residence at Warwick, and continued many years after his removal to London. Celsus he pronounced “a very wise man;” and said that his works ought not only to be read, but read night and day, by the medical student. His style, he said, is very good Latin; and if it were not so, he ought still to be read for the medical knowledge which he communicates. Almost all that is valuable in Hippocrates, he remarked, may be found clearly and beautifully epitomised in Celsus. In recommending to a young physician the study of Aretæus, a bold and decisive practitioner in the reign of Vespasian, whose works have ever been admired for the accurate description of diseases which they contain, and for the judicious mode of treatment which they prescribe—“Aye,” said he, “if I could find one, with a mind like Aretæus, he should be my physician.” Speaking of Dioscorides, distinguished no less as a botanist than as a physician, he said that he sometimes read his works, and always with pleasure, though it is often difficult to translate his words, especially in the description of plants. Tournefort, Sibthorpe, and other travelling botanists, have taken, he thought, the only sure method of explaining the plants both of Theophrastus and Dioscorides, by diligent researches in the countries where they were originally found. He looked upon Galen as decidedly one of the most learned men who have ever appeared in the medical world; though inferior in other respects, especially as a pathological observer, to Hippocrates or Aretæus. The poem of Frascatorius, the celebrated physician of Verona, in the 16th century, being mentioned, Dr. Parr said, it was one of the most classical productions, which have appeared since the Georgics of Virgil; with which indeed for its melodious versification, its vivid imagery, and its noble sentiments, it has often been compared.

Descending from the ancients to the moderns, he often spoke in praise of the literary acquirements and professional skill of Sir Thomas Browne, Sydenham, and Harvey; but pre-eminently his favourite medical writer was Hermann Boerhaave; and upon his genius, his attainments, his important works, and his noble character, he was accustomed to expatiate, with almost rapturous delight. It was he that opened, Dr. Parr said, a new and splendid era in the science of medicine and chemistry: and to his instructions, delivered in his lectures and his writings, the wonderful discoveries and improvements of later times may be principally ascribed. Next to Boerhaave, the glory of the Dutch school of medicine, stood, in Dr. Parr’s estimation, the contemporary and friend of Boerhaave, Dr. Mead, the illustrious ornament of me-dical science in England; who was eminently distinguished, not only for his professional talents, but also for his literary attainments, and for his fine taste in all the arts which adorn and improve human life. The Latin style of his works, Dr. Parr said, is entitled to commendation: but, he added, though a good scholar, Dr. Mead was not skilful in writing Latin; and was therefore obliged to borrow the aid of Dr. Ward1 and Dr. Letherland.2

In Dr. Freind he admired the man of profound erudition, as well as of extensive medical knowledge: and in reading his works, he always met, he said, the deep-thinking philosopher, as well as the elegant writer. Sir George Baker he considered not only as one of the best physicians, but also as one of the best scholars, and one of the best writers of Latin of his day; and readily yielded to him, in this last respect, the palm of superiority over himself. Dr. Akenside he extolled as a man of vast learning, as well as of high talent, but united, unhappily, with excessive pride. Cullen he thought a most extraordinary man; and said that he once intended to write his life. In Dr. Aikin he acknowledged elegance of taste and high cultivation

1 “Ad Middletoni de Medicorum Vet. Rom. conditione Diss. Responsio.—By Ward of Gresham College, who, together with Dr. Letherland, defended Mead against Middleton, but unsuccessfully. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 473.

2 “Reinesii Variorum Lectionum libri tres.—Dr. Parr very much values this book; for it was once the property of the very learned Dodwell, of Wasse, whom Dr. Bentley pronounced the next scholar to himself, and Dr. Letherland, who was called the walking dictionary. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 319.

of mind. Dr. Heberden he called “the amiable and accomplished author of the ‘Commentaries,’ or history of the diseases which came under his own observation, written in pure and flowing Latinity.” Of Dr. Gregory, well known for his useful moral as well as medical publications, Dr. Parr remarked, “that his writings are extensively read, and that they do credit to the ingenuity, the sensibility, and the piety of the author.”

With great and unfeigned respect, Dr. Parr cherished the memory of Dr. Percival, Dr. Arnold,1 and especially of Dr. James Johnstone of Worcester, whom he describes “as a man of much intellectual vigour and various research,”2 and of his son the accomplished and truly excellent Dr. James Johnstone;3 whose life fell a sacrifice, at the age of thirty, to his humane and zealous discharge of professional duty, in visiting the prisoners, during the period of a raging fever in Worcester gaol. No medical practitioner ever acquired, within the same space of time, a higher reputation than this young physician; and his virtues, his talents, and the valuable services of his life, terminated under such affecting circumstances by his death, have secured for him a place in the grateful and honourable remembrance of the city

1 “Arnold’s Case of Hydrophobia, &c—Ex dono eruditi auctoris. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 462.

2 Bibl. Parr. p. 391.

3 “Account of the Medicinal Water near Tewkesbury, by James Johnstone, Jun.—He was the elder and most ingenious son of the very ingenious Dr. Johnstone of Worcester. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 634.

in which he lived and died, and of all to whom his name and his merits were, in any degree, known. A monument to his memory was erected in Worcester cathedral; for which the inscription in Latin was written by Dr. Parr.1

Of the members of the medical profession, whose friendship Dr. Parr cultivated, whilst living, and whom he has enumerated in his “Last Will” amongst the number of his friends, are, Dr. E. Johnstone, and Dr. Male, of Birmingham, Dr. Lambe, Dr. Bright, and Sir Anthony Carlisle2 of London, Dr. Hill of Leicester, Dr. Bourne of Coventry, and his own medical attendants, Dr. J. Johnstone, Dr. A. Middleton, Mr. Blenkinsop,3 and Mr. Jones. In the same solemn registry, he has recorded the high value at which he prized the friendship of “the very learned, scientific, and truly pious Dr. Falconer of Bath;” and of the eminently distinguished Dr. Holme, “who,” says he, “in sincerity, in uprightness, in professional skill, in taste for reading classical authors, and in the knowledge of chymistry, zoology and English antiquities, has few equals among his contemporaries.”

1 App. No. II.

2 “Synopsis of the Arrangement of the Preparations in the Gallery of the Museum of the Royal College of Surgeons.—This book was given me in Lincolns Inn Fields, by a skilful surgeon, a profound philosopher, a most animated writer, and a most valuable friend, Sir Anthony Carlisle. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 476.

3 “I give a ring to Mr. Blenkinsop of Warwick, surgeon, whose professional diligence and judgment have for many years contributed to the health and comfort of my family and my own.”—Dr. Parr’s will.

Of the legal profession, in its effect on the mind and the character, the reader is aware that Dr. Parr thought unfavourably. As its honours and preferments depend so little upon merit, and so much upon court-favour, he could not help trembling, he used to say, for the moral and especially for the political integrity of those, who entered into it. He often deeply deplored the subserviency, to men in power, amounting almost to sycophancy, not only of the law-officers, but even of too many of the judges; and often indignantly adverted to the remarkable fact that, during the last and the present reign, their decisions on all questions between the crown and the people have been, with few exceptions, against popular rights, and in support of regal prerogative. In mentioning this last term, so much a favourite with the advocates of absolute authority, he would sometimes pause; and, with a smile, remark, that of all their arguments, none amused him more than those founded on prerogative; “because,” said he, “the very derivation of the word, from prae-rogare, supplies of itself a clear and sufficient answer to them.” In describing the state of the law, he condemned, with severity, the excessive attachment of lawyers to the barbarous institutions of ancient times, their pertinacious adherence to the most obvious errors and absurdities, and their obstinate resistance to all reformation of “that hideous mass,” as he called it, “of iniquity, inconsistency and sanguinary cruelty, the criminal code.”—“We are bad enough,” he said, “in the church:—but the church is purity itself compared with the law:—the accumulated abuses of which,” he often insisted, “ought to be reprobated by every honest and reflecting man, as at once the shame and the curse of the country.”

With this strong opinion on the defective and corrupted state of the law, and on the evil influences, to which all who engage in the study and practice of it are exposed, great in proportion would of course be his admiration of those magnanimous individuals, who have not only the virtuous principle to stand firm against the tempting seductions of professional honours and emoluments; but who have the strength and elevation of mind, to break from the trammels of long-established system—to soar above the powerful prejudices, which chain down the whole herd of practitioners to their hoary precedents and antiquated maxims, and to ascend to those large and enlightened views of jurisprudence, which lead to the true end of all just government, in securing and promoting the rights, the liberties, and the happiness of the governed. In this high class of illustrious individuals stand the distinguished names of Jones, Erskine, Romilly, Bentham, Mackintosh, Montagu, Brougham, and Denman, and all these, it was with pride and with joy that Dr. Parr reckoned in the number of his friends. Amongst many others, also, for whom he entertained the greatest possible respect, may be mentioned, Sir William Adam, Sir Thomas Plomer, Mr. Sergeant Wilde, Sir James Scarlett, Sir Nicholas Tyndal, Mr. John Williams, and Mr. Dwarris.1

1 All these are respectfully noticed in Dr. Parr’s will.

Among the liberal and enlightened members of the legal profession, who were honoured with a place in the friendly regards of Dr. Parr, the writer is proud to introduce into his pages the name of one of his own relatives, Barron Field, Esq., late judge of the supreme court of New South Wales. On assuming his official dignity in the distant province, over which he was appointed to preside, he was called to deliver an opinion on certain actions, to recover duties which had not been imposed by Parliament; and he gave it against the crown. So equitable and so reasonable did this opinion appear, that the governor of the colony, who had himself imposed the duties, acquiesced in it; and the crown-lawyers at home afterwards fully justified it. The writer cannot soon forget the high and delighted approbation, which Dr. Parr expressed, when he was informed of these acts of constitutional firmness and spirit, exhibited on the seat of justice; where, he was accustomed with sorrow to remark, we too often see the subserviency of the courtier, rather than the independence and impartiality of the judge.1

1 “Cases have occurred, in which Mr. Justice Field has displayed a very independent judgment; and has proved that although he was ready to give effect to the public orders and proclamations of the governor, whenever he found them to be consistent with the laws of England, or to be justified by palpable necessity; yet he has never allowed his decisions to be swayed by any consideration of the personal wish of the governor, or the supposed influence of the government. Your lordship has been already apprised of Mr. Justice Field’s refusal to receive actions in the supreme court for the recovery of duties on spirits, or imported goods, until those duties had received the sanction of the British legislature.”—Second Report of Commissioners of Inquiry in New South Wales, p. 9.

Dr. Parr always spoke, with peculiar satisfaction, of his occasional intercourse with Charles Warren, Esq., chief justice of Chester; “who has often delighted me,” he said, “by the shrewdness of his remarks, by the clearness of his reasoning, and by the great accuracy of his knowledge in the Latin language.”1 Of the late Mr. Serg. Lens, so justly regarded by the whole profession, and by every one who knew him, as a model of all that is honourable and dignified in the lawyer and the man, he has thus traced the character:—“His erudition, his taste, his correct judgment, his spotless integrity, gave additional lustre to the reputation, which he deservedly acquired by his professional knowledge.”1 He entertained, and he has expressed a high opinion of the present Mr. Sergeant Rough, “for his professional and classical knowledge, for his delicate sensibility, for his polished manners, and pure integrity.”1 To this gentleman he intended to bequeath a legacy of 100l.; but afterwards changed the bequest into a gift of the same amount presented to him during life. With exultations of pride and delight Dr. Parr often spoke of his acquaintance with the celebrated Jeremy Bentham, Esq., whom he describes as “the ablest and most instructive writer on the most difficult and interesting subjects of jurisprudence that ever lived.”1

Mr. Butler of Lincolns Inn, eminent as a lawyer, and highly distinguished as a writer, has himself given an account of his friendly intercourse with

1 Last Will.

Dr. Parr, in the second volume of his Reminiscences, lately published. “They frequently met,” he relates, “at the houses of their common friends: the reminiscent could not but be gratified in seeing that Dr. Parr was pleased with his society; and even sometimes desired him to be invited to parties purposely made for him. The reminiscent uniformly found the Doctor instructive and agreeable: with strong prepossessions on some subjects; with kind and liberal feelings on all; loved and esteemed in proportion as he was known and justly appreciated; ever mentioned with esteem, and frequently with gratitude. He honoured the reminiscent by a bequest of a ring.”1 This account is given by Mr. Butler as introductory to “a correspondence” of some extent between himself and his learned friend—in the course of which some pleasing criticism on classical subjects occurs; and many remarks by Dr. Parr, chiefly complimentary, on Mr. Butler’s publications in defence of the “Catholic faith,” of which he is a bright ornament and a powerful advocate. Certainly, if any thing could reconcile a Protestant to the religious system, for which Mr. Butler pleads—a system so revolting to reason, so opposed to the rights of private judgment, and to the benefits of free inquiry—it would be the softened aspect under which that system is exhibited, and the tolerant spirit with which it is united, in his writings and in his conduct.

In the whole circle of the legal profession there were few who stood higher in Dr. Parr’s estima-

1 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 187.

tion than Robert Smith, Esq.,1 member in the last parliament for Lincoln. He was educated at Eton; where he acquired fame, not only as a classical scholar, but as a principal contributor to a work entitled “The Microcosm,” reflecting so much honour on the youthful writers engaged in it. From Eton he went to Cambridge, and entered of King’s College. He is mentioned by Dr. Parr, among the learned academics,2 whose numbers and whose merits justify, he thought, the application to the two universities of the praise bestowed by Cicero upon Athens, as “omnium fere doctrinarum inventrices, ubi dicendi vis scribendique, vel reperta, est vel perfecta.”

Shortly after his appearance at the bar, Mr. Smith received a high legal appointment at Calcutta. On his return to England, he soon obtained a seat in parliament; but he greatly disappointed the expectations, excited by the extraordinary powers he was known to possess, when he appeared among the orators of St. Stephen’s. He rose to speak; and after uttering a few sentences, sat down, and was never heard more.3 With that anxiousness

1 “Homeri Opera, Gr. et Lat. curante Lederlino et post eum Stephano Berghlero, 2 vols.—The gift of that most honourable, magnanimous, learned, ingenious man, Mr. Robert Smith, before he went to India in 1803. I value them exceedingly; for they were his constant companions. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 175.

2 “Τη άκριβεία και δεινότητι μεγαλοπρεπεία, ευδοκιμουντος.”—Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 110.

3 “To Dr. Parr’s most sagacious and most learned friend, Robert Smith, whose terrors in his first, and indeed only speech in parliament, quite overcame his wonderful courage,

to soften the pang of disappointment, which ever distinguished him, Dr. Parr soothingly said, on hearing of it: “Well! it is of little consequence. Smith can well afford to lose the portion of additional fame, which that speech would have gained him.” In his “Last Will,” bequeathing to him a ring, he bears his testimony to that “admiration with which he had ever contemplated in him erudition, genius, and magnanimity!”

The public have heard much of the friendship which subsisted between Dr. Parr and Sir James Mackintosh; and of the long interruption of that friendship, in consequence of some serious displeasure, which he, by whom it was excited, would probably now confess, not to have been wholly without just and reasonable cause. That displeasure, and the cause which excited it, are here alluded to, however, merely in justification of the part which Dr. Parr thought himself obliged, on that occasion, to take. Replying to the exclamation of an acquaintance, “What! you and Parr not friends! why, you were the idol that he worshipped!” when Sir James said, “That may be: but Parr is a furious iconoclast, who knocks down the idol he has set up!”—there was more wit

he used to apply one of Polemo’s sayings—‘Gladiatores aliquando spectans, quendam æstuantem et horrorem præsentis exitii totius corporis sudore declarantem cum intueretur; talis est, experto credito, dixit miseria oratoris declamatorii.’ The same remark has been made by Cicero concerning himself—‘Equidem et in vobis animadvertere soleo, et in me ipso sæpissime experior, ut exalbescam in principiis dicendi, et tota mente et omnibus artubus contremiscam,’ &c.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 693.

than real force in the reply; since it cannot be denied that the idol, thrown down, was not exactly that, which had been set up.

It is pleasing to relate that the friendship, thus interrupted, was afterwards renewed; and the object of respectful and affectionate regards restored to its former place in Dr. Parr’s estimation. Many are the testimonies he has borne to the talents, the acquirements, and the public services, of which he thought so highly; and to these is added, in his “Last Will,” the following:—“I bequeath to Sir James Mackintosh, M. P., a ring, as a mark of my unfeigned respect for his deep researches in metaphysics, ethics, history, and literature—for his splendid eloquence—and for his meritorious parliamentary exertions, in mitigating the severity of the penal code.”

Of the church, among the dignitaries, to whom Dr. Parr looked up with high and unfeigned respect, were Archbishops Sutton and Magee, Bishops Howley, Cornwall, Pelham, Burgess, Law, and Legge, and his own pupil, Bishop Alexander. Great similarity in literary pursuits and tastes, much harmonious concurrence in religious and political opinion, and an equal participation in the same noble spirit of candour and charity, drew close the attachment between himself and the excellent Bishop Bathurst. He delighted to speak of the “very learned” Bishop Kaye, the “amiable and accomplished” Bishop Ryder, the “kind-hearted and learned” Bishop Huntingford, and “the eminently learned” Bishop Blomfield, lately raised to the see of Chester. But how disappointed and mortified would Dr. Parr have been, if he had lived to witness the first efforts of the last-mentioned prelate exerted, as a peer of parliament, and that too in opposition to his own decided opinion in former life, against the claims of a large portion of his Majesty’s subjects to the rights which belong to them as men and Britons! On so plain a question of civil policy and religious toleration, involving, too, the integrity and safety of the empire; the determined resistance of so many of the clerical and of some other orders of the community, pretending to be “pars indocili melior grege,” is the shame of the present age, as it will be the wonder or contempt of the next.

Of the state of the ecclesiastical bench, during his own time, speaking generally, Dr. Parr often said, that it comprised, indeed, no very great learning, no very brilliant talent, but much strong sense, much right feeling, and a large portion of the wise and just spirit of religious moderation. To express his idea of that moderation, turning to the present writer, whom with affected concern, but with real good-humour, he usually designated “the inveterate non-con,” or the “incorrigible heretic,” he would say, “Sir, I do not believe there are more than two or three individuals on the bench, if so many, who would do even such as you the slightest harm.” He always, however, bitterly deplored, as mistaken and mischievous policy, the opposition of the high dignitaries and the whole clerical body to all reforms both in church and state, and to all plans for the diffusion of know-ledge, and the extension of religious and civil liberty. “Ah!” he would often mournfully say, “our venerable church is injured and dishonoured far more by its friends than its enemies.”—“Yes,” he would sometimes add, “if they go on so, much longer, they will force even me, who hate schism, to become a schismatic.”

With these strong sentiments impressed upon his mind, it is easy to imagine the joy, with which, if he had lived, Dr. Parr would have witnessed the progress and the happy issue of the late parliamentary proceedings, which terminated in the repeal of the test and corporation acts; and that joy, it may be added, would have risen to the high and proud exultation, which all who are concerned for the honour of the church must feel, in observing that this important measure was not only not opposed, but approved and actively promoted, with few exceptions, by the whole bench of bishops; and approved also, in general, though not actively promoted, by the whole body of the clergy. “De nobis, quos in republica vobiscum simul salvos et ornatos, quoties cogitabitis, toties de incredibili liberalitate, toties de singulari sapientia vestra cogitabitis; quæ non modo summa bona, sed nimirum audebo vel sola dicere.”1

There is one distinguished divine, in the church, towards whom Dr. Parr always felt and expressed the most extreme dislike and disapprobation. Even his sincerity in the profession of religious truth he called in question; and would never acknowledge him for a true and faithful son of the

1 Cicero.

church. The present writer, having read and studied his theological works, with high satisfaction, was strongly disposed, from admiration of the author, to think well of the man; and in attempting to defend his character, and especially in asserting the value of his literary labours, he often found himself engaged in a warm contest with his illustrious friend. “He had once some right feeling,” said Dr. Parr, “but he has long walked in a crooked path.”—“Of his talents,” he would say, “I will allow they are considerable, but not great: and of his learning, that it is something, but not much; and what little he has is second-hand, not derived from original sources, but from modern writers.” Even upon one of the most acute, and probably most important theological, works of the last century, Dr. Parr, more from the impulse of his prejudices than from the dictate of his judgment, poured ridicule and contempt. On another ground, his censures, hurled against the distinguished ecclesiastic here alluded to, were more reasonable. “Sir,” said he on one occasion to the writer, “will you pretend that our church owes him any obligation for the audacious attempt to prove that it would be endangered by the circulation of the Scriptures, if unattended or unexplained by the Common Prayer Book?”—“What an attempt!” he exclaimed, after a moment’s pause, with a scornful expression, “why, it is as much as to say that the plain and obvious sense of Scripture is against us! If you, or any of your heretical crew had so said, we should have instantly retorted,—a foul calumny! a wicked lie!”—“I say,” con-tinued he, speaking vehemently, “that publication was the act of a traitor, stabbing the breast which he ought to protect and cherish.”—“And, sir,” added he, “what I tell you, I have told him:—yes, himself!” and then he went on to relate the following story, which the writer has heard him repeat more than once or twice:—“When I visited him,” said he, “at his own college, soon after the publication just mentioned, I reproached him bitterly for his disingenuous and unworthy conduct; and on parting with him at the college-gates, I laid hold of his coat-button, and looking him full in the face, said, ‘For writing that book—I do not swear—but I use the word emphatically—you are a —— ——!’”

Occasionally he visited Cambridge; and he always returned from his excursions refreshed and delighted. This was the transient scene of one of the happiest periods of his life; and from the recollection of the pleasures and advantages which he there enjoyed, Cambridge kept a strong hold upon his respect and gratitude, to the latest moment of his existence. He was proud of belonging to that university, because, as he often observed, more unfettered freedom of thought and inquiry was admitted, and wiser and better plans of study adopted, than at Oxford; though it must be owned that some late important reforms have done much to remove the reproach, which had so long rested on that sister university.

At Cambridge, it was always with joy that Dr. Parr met his former associates, rivals, and instructors; though of all these, the number, with ad-vancing life, must have been continually diminished, by removal and by death. But other friends succeeded in their places, and rendered his visits often highly interesting, and always agreeable. In a letter to Mr. Parkes, dated Cambridge, June 10, 1814, thus he writes:—“I never spent my time more agreeably; and yet, you may suppose, that my understanding and my memory have been severely exercised by the many learned men with whom I have had to converse, and sometimes to struggle.” Speaking to his friend, Dr. Wade, who had mentioned his intention of going to Cambridge—“Aye,” said he, “when I met you there in the summer of 1822, I had a delightful visit. Then I took Mrs. Parr with me to show her the university. I was most sumptuously entertained in the combination room of your college. Pray, remember me to Hornbuckle; and tell him I shall never forget his hospitality. We were all in high spirits; full of fun and glee. I think they did not dislike my company.”1

Among his Cambridge friends, who stood high in his estimation, were, Dr. Davy, master of Caius; Dr. Cory, master of Emanuel; Dr. Thackery, provost of Kings, the grandson of his own revered preceptor, formerly master of Harrow School; Mr. Brown, of Trinity; Mr. Woodhouse, of Caius; and the two learned Professors Monk and Dobree. Dr. Davy was, for a short time, Dr. Parr’s pupil, and through life his devoted friend; of whom he has expressed his high opinion in these words of his “Last Will:”—“I give to Dr. Davy a ring, as

1 New Monthly Mag. June, 1825.

a mark of my just, and therefore great respect for him, as a man of learning, as a man of science, and a man of integrity quite unsullied.” Of Mr. Brown, in a letter of introduction to Mr. Roscoe, he thus speaks:—“He is a Whig; he is a scholar; he is a gentleman; and he is my friend.”

Sometimes Dr. Parr visited Oxford, and though these visits were less frequent, they were scarcely less agreeable than those to Cambridge. It may be thought that he entertained an unfavourable opinion of the Oxford men, since he used to say, “they are very good men; but too orthodox in religion, too rampant in loyalty, and too furious in politics.” It was, indeed, impossible that he should not look with disgust upon the efforts of lazy, prejudiced, and jealous minds, to shut out, from the first and greatest university, the light of increasing knowledge and improvement, and to paralyse the exertion, and stop the progress of human thought; yet he was ready to do justice to every individual instance of literary excellence, which appeared amongst its professors: and he acknowledged that he always found at Oxford many very wise and very worthy men, with whom he delighted to converse; and some of whom he was most happy to receive, on the terms of friendly and confidential intimacy. Among these, were the late Dr. White, professor of Arabic; the late Rev. H. Kett, of Trinity; Dr. Elmsley, of Alban Hall; Dr. Copplestone, provost of Oriel; and Dr. Vaughan, warden of Merton; and to them remains to be added the name of “his most learned, most wise, upright, and truly pious friend”—so he him-self reverently designates him—Dr. Martin Routh, of Magdalen College.

It is of this learned scholar and excellent man that Dr. Parr thus writes to his friend, Mr. Roscoe:—“I have told you that I think the President of Magdalen, where I am now residing, the most learned ecclesiastic in England, and one of the best men in Christendom. He is nominally a Tory; but his sagacity, his knowledge, his integrity, his independence, and his benevolence, lead him to think and sometimes to talk with you and me. Yes!—you ought to be acquainted,” &c.

It is of the same most revered and beloved friend, that Dr. Parr, in one of his printed works, has drawn the following portrait, traced with the outlines, no doubt, of truth and fidelity, though probably touched with the warm colourings of fond and affectionate friendship:—

“Why should I deny myself the satisfaction, I must feel in saying of him here, what of such a man I could say every where, with equal justice and equal triumph? The friendship of this excellent person, believe me, readers, will ever be ranked by me, among the sweetest consolations and the proudest ornaments of my life. He, in the language of Milton, ‘is the virtuous son of a virtuous father;’ whose literary attainments are respected by every scholar to whom he is known; whose exemplary virtues shed a lustre on that church, in which they have not been rewarded; and whose grey hairs will never descend to the grave, but amidst the blessings of the devout and the tears of the poor. He fills a station, for which other men are some-times indebted to the cabals of party, or to the caprices of fortune; but in which he was himself most honourably placed, from the experience his electors had long had of his integrity, and the confidence they reposed in his discernment, in his activity, and his impartiality. The attachment, he professes to academical institutions, proceeds not less from a sincere conviction of their utility, than from a deep reverence for the wisdom of antiquity, in the regulations it has made, for preserving the morals of youth, and for promoting the cultivation of learning. His government, over the affairs of a great and respectable college, is active without officiousness, and firm without severity. His independence of spirit is the effect not of ferocious pride, but of cool and steady principle; which claims only the respect it is ever ready to pay; and which equally disdains to trample on subordination, and to crouch before the insolence of power. His correct judgment, his profound erudition, and his various knowledge, are such as seldom fall to the lot of man. His liberality is scarcely surpassed even by his orthodoxy; and his orthodoxy is not the tumid and fungus excrescence of prejudice, but the sound and mellowed fruit of honest and indefatigable inquiry. In a word, his mind, his whole mind, is decked at once with the purest crystals of simplicity, and the brightest jewels of benevolence and piety.”1

1 Sequel to a Printed Paper, &c. p. 108.

CHAPTER XII. A.D. 1816-1820. Public events—Effects of the victory of Waterloo on the temper of the English government—Large military establishments maintained—Continuance of the war-tax threatened—County-meetings at Warwick on the subject—Letter from Dr. Parr to the Lord Mayor of London—Continued suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act—County-meeting on the subject at Warwick—Ministerial attempts against the liberty of the press—Manchester massacre—Prosecution of Mr. Hone—Dr. Parr’s intercourse with him—Dr. Parr’s high opinion of Major Cartwright—Sir Francis Burdett’s visit with Dr. Parr at Leam.

Though the splendid and decisive victory of Waterloo raised, to the highest pitch of elevation, the military glory of Great Britain and her allies; and though its immediate result, in putting an end for ever to the mad career of the mightiest warrior, and the most daring oppressor, of modern times, was the subject of unfeigned joy to all the friends of social order and happiness; yet too soon was that joy changed, by the events that followed, into deep and mournful disappointment. It was by no means from the mere impulse of splenetic humour or mortified ambition that Bonaparte spoke—nor was his assertion unsupported by the truth of facts—when he declared that “the battle of Waterloo was as fatal to the liberties of Europe, as that of Philippi was to Rome; and, like that, too, pre-cipitated the European states into the hands of a triumvirate, associated for the purposes of suppressing knowledge, destroying freedom, and reestablishing despotism through the whole eastern continent.”1 Even in England, the government caught something of the arbitrary spirit of the holy alliance; with which, by similarity of views and reciprocity of feeling, though not by express treaty, they seemed to be, at that time, too closely united.

Of this increased tendency to arbitrary rule, the first effect soon appeared, in the successful attempt of the ministry to keep up a large standing army, to the extreme distress of an impoverished nation, as well as in direct contradiction to the principles of the English constitution, and in utter defiance of all those ancient and well-founded jealousies, which, in better times, it was thought wise to respect and to cherish. This attempt was followed by another, happily not so successful; which was, to convert into a permanent source of revenue the tax on property, or rather on income; an odious and oppressive tax, originally introduced with a solemn pledge that, as by the necessities of war it was demanded, so with the return of peace it should cease.

This last attempt, so grossly outraging the public feelings, roused every where a spirit of determined resistance: public meetings were convened

1 Las Casas, vol. iii. part iii. p. 67. Dr. Parr thought the “conversations” of Bonaparte, lately published by this and other writers, valuable lessons of most wise and sagacious policy.

in all parts of the kingdom; and among other places at Warwick. In calling this meeting, and in promoting all the objects of it, Dr. Parr took a leading part; as may appear from the following extract of a letter to Mr. Parkes, dated Feb. 2, 1815:—

“I wrote about the requisition for calling a county-meeting to Mr. Taylor of Birmingham; and, in a very polite letter, he tells me he shall not be in Warwickshire, at the time of the meeting. I am glad to hear that Sir C. Mordaunt1 is disposed to favour our petition. I depend upon early information of the day, fixed by the sheriff. I am confident that Mr. Canning2 will do all that is right, in arranging the topics of the petition, and in selecting the speakers in the county-hall, &c.—S. P.”

The meeting referred to was held at Warwick, Feb. 18, 1815, when the petition for the repeal of the obnoxious tax proposed by Francis Canning, Esq. and supported by Sir C. Mordaunt, Sir R. Lawley, and others, was unanimously approved. The petitioners were not then successful; but, in the following year, their petitions were renewed, and the voice of the nation finally prevailed. On these occasions, it was remarkable, that the aristocracy, generally the friends, were found amongst the opponents, of the ministry; who did not scruple openly and reproachfully to ascribe their opposition to views of private, more than public interest; and Dr. Parr, too, thought that there were other objects, which might, with at least equal reason, have called forth their patriotic zeal.

1 Then member for the county. 2 Of Foxcote.

For thus he writes to his friend, Mr. Parkes:—

“Dear Sir—I send you the papers, which came to me yesterday from Mr. Horner. If I were concerned in preparing the county resolutions, I should avail myself of the important suggestions, which he has communicated; and I should certainly insist, far more copiously and more energetically, on the dangers of our large military establishments, than on the mischiefs of the property-tax. I am your sincere well-wisher,—S. P.”

“Hatton, Feb. 28, 1816.”

It is pleasing to relate that even in the metropolis, where it might be supposed that court-favour and ministerial patronage would necessarily obtain a powerful influence, a large portion of patriotic spirit, faithfully cherished and nobly exerted, has always appeared; diffused more or less amongst its various classes of bankers, merchants, traders, and never wholly excluded from its body corporate. Many who have attained to civic honours, have aspired also to the more resplendent honours, which irradiate the patriot’s name: Sawbridge, Townsend, Combe, in days that are past, have been worthily succeeded, in our time, by Wood, Waithman, Goodbehere, and Favell. So deservedly high stood the first of these in the estimation of his fellow-citizens, that, at the close of his mayoralty in 1815, he was raised a second time to the dignity of chief magistrate; and thus the name of Wood becomes proudly associated with those of Barnard and Beckford, on whom the same high distinction was conferred, the one in the reign of George II. and the other in the early part of that of George III. It was on the important occasion of his re-election to the civic chair, that Dr. Parr received an invitation to the grand festivities of the Mansion-house—to which the following answer was returned:—

“Hatton, November 1, 1816.

“My Lord,—Suffer me to thank your Lordship for inviting me to your dinner on the 9th of this month; and to assure you that, with pleasure and with pride, I should obey your polite and friendly summons, if I were not detained in Warwickshire by numerous and important avocations. I have not been an inattentive observer of the events, which occurred during your mayoralty; and most heartily do I rejoice that your peculiar merit has procured for you peculiar honours among your fellow-citizens, and is not only applauded by your zealous supporters, but acknowledged by your most determined opponents. Amidst the general and well-deserved praise of the public, you, perhaps, will allow me, as a man of letters, as an Englishman, and as a teacher of Christianity, to bear my testimony to such firmness, mingled with moderation, as you have manifested in your political principles, to such activity guided by good sense, in your official measures, to indignation so just against the profligate and obdurate, and to compassion so unfeigned towards the desolate and oppressed.—To vigilance, integrity, and benevolence in all the arduous duties of your station, you add other ornamental and other useful qualities; such, I believe, as are not very often found collectively in the chief magistrate of our metropolis. Yes, my Lord, in Mr. Wood, I discern the generosity of a Barnard without his coarseness, the hospitality of a Beckford without his ostentation, the intrepidity of a Sawbridge without his turbulence, and the sagacity of a Townsend without his asperity.—I see that persons of the most exalted rank and the most unblemished characters attend your private parties; and, therefore, if the members of administration stand aloof from your public entertainments, you, my Lord, will smile at their illiberality; and every honourable man in the country will despise their perverseness and their rudeness. I trust, my Lord, your example will have its full influence upon the spirit and conduct of your successors; and I am sure that history will faithfully record the virtues, of which your contemporaries now experience the extensive and most beneficial effects. I shall not fail to drink a bumper to your health on the 9th of November; and I know that some of my enlightened neighbours are disposed to pay the same tribute of respect to your Lordship, as a wise magistrate and a steady patriot. When employed to christen a child of your worthy precursor, Mr. Combe, I once spent a very happy day with the late Mr. Fox at the Mansion-house; and in the expectation of equal happiness, I shall give you an opportunity of asking me to your table, if I visit the capital, in the course of the ensuing year. I beg of you to present my best compliments to the Lady Mayoress, and to Mr. and Miss P—; and glad shall I be, my Lord, to welcome you at my parsonage, whensoever you find your way into War-wickshire. I have the honour to be, &c.—

S. Parr.”

Among other arbitrary measures, adopted by the ruling powers in England, about this time, the nation was roused to a sense of its wrongs and its dangers, by the repeated suspension, on the slightest pretences, of the Habeas Corpus Act; always proudly and justly regarded as the grand security for the personal liberty of the subject. Public meetings were, in consequence, convened, and conducted with a spirit worthy of Englishmen, in almost every part of the kingdom; and of these, one, very numerously attended, was held in the Shire-hall of Warwick, June 21, 1817, at which the Hon. Henry Verney, now Lord Willoughby-de-Broke, presided. The business of the day was opened, in a long and admirable speech, by Francis Canning, Esq.—who then proposed the form of a petition to both Houses of Parliament, praying them “to adopt such measures as might prevent the liberties of Englishmen from being sacrificed to the real, or pretended, but groundless, fears of his Majesty’s ministers; and especially to resist every attempt that might be made to continue any longer the suspension of the act of Habeas Corpus.” He was followed by Dr. Parr; who observed that, “after the able and eloquent address, distinguished equally by its luminous method, its powerful argument, and patriotic spirit, just delivered by his excellent friend, little remained to be added by him.” He wished it to be understood, he said, that though his signature, in consequence of absence from home, had not been affixed to the re-quisition; yet that “the object of it he should ever approve, and support, with all the powers of his head and all the feelings of his heart.” He condemned, in strong terms, the suspension of the act in question, “as a shameless and most flagrant violation of the most sacred and important rights of Englishmen;” and censured with indignant severity, “all the flimsy pretences which had been urged in its support, as an insult to the common sense of mankind.” Concurring, as he did, in the words and the spirit of the petition, now proposed, he concluded with recommending it to the meeting, as worthy of their adoption; and, amidst the loud acclamations of a large majority, it was accordingly adopted.

But the nation had still other causes of serious complaint against the Liverpool-administration, especially in the new and alarming doctrine set forth by Lord Sidmouth, in a well-known circular, “that justices of the peace are empowered to arrest, and hold to bail, persons charged with libels, even though not previously declared such, by the verdict of a jury.” It was a bold attempt to crush, or at least to check, the liberty of the press; and the credit which Lord Sidmouth had acquired for mildness of spirit and goodness of intention was greatly diminished by this and other obnoxious measures; and, most of all, by the unadvised act of writing an official letter of thanks to the perpetrators of the horrible massacre, which took place at Manchester, on the dreadful 16th of August, 1819. Certainly, an instance is hardly to be found in the annals of a civilised nation, of a more cruel and cowardly assault made upon an unarmed multitude, by a military body, acting under the orders of the magistracy. Between three and four hundred were killed or wounded; and painful to reflect!—the barbarous massacre, if not previously projected, was afterwards openly approved, by the high authorities of the state!

The low and misguided policy of the same administration appeared in another affair of a different kind, which happened some time before, and which drew upon them no small degree of public contempt and reprobation. This was the prosecution of Mr. Hone, a bookseller in London; who was put upon his trial for three successive days, on three several indictments, charging him with libellous publications, consisting of political parodies on the Church catechism, and other parts of the Common Prayer Book. The practice itself, to say the least, is highly indecorous; and yet it was proved, on the trial, to be by no means unprecedented or uncommon; and instances were adduced, as in the case of the late Mr. Canning’s poetry in the “Anti-jacobin,” in which it was impossible to impute any profane intention to the writer or publisher. Mr. Hone conducted his own defence, with a presence of mind, with a research of literature, with a force of reasoning, and a fervour of eloquence, which called forth universal astonishment and admiration. On the first day, the charge was fairly left to the consideration of the jury, by Mr. Justice Abbott; but, on the second and third days, it was vehemently pressed against the defendant by Lord Chief-justice Ellenborough; who, however, had the mortification to find all his efforts unavailing. The charge against the defendant was that of blasphemy; but the juries plainly saw that it was the satire upon themselves which the ministerial instigators of the prosecution disliked, and that their horror at profaneness was the mere stalking-horse, under which they thought to take a fatal aim at a political adversary. Three times a verdict of acquittal was pronounced; and three times the hall of justice and the adjacent streets resounded with the shouts of triumph from an immense multitude, anxiously waiting the issue of the trial. The public testified their sense of the hypocrisy of the prosecution, and of the extraordinary ability and firmness which Mr. Hone displayed, in his defence against it, by a liberal subscription in his favour.

In the spring of 1820, Mr. Hone was summoned to give evidence, on a trial at Warwick, in which the late venerable Major Cartwright was one of the defendants. On that occasion, Mr. Hone received many kind and flattering attentions from Dr. Parr; who always loved to contemplate talent, wherever it is to be found; and who conversed much with him, and invited him to partake of the hospitalities of Hatton-parsonage. In a note to a friend, he writes thus:—“Dear Sir,—Hone is a prodigy of genius and heroism. He dines with me next Sunday. Pray, come and meet him. You will be pleased with him. Yours, &c. S. Parr.—Hatton, April 2, 1820.”

At the trial just referred to, it will probably be within the reader’s recollection, that Major Cart-wright, Mr. Wooler, and four others, were accused of a conspiracy to bring the government into contempt, by electing a legislatorial attorney for the town of Birmingham. They were all found guilty; though it is difficult to discover what crime they had committed, or against what law they had offended. The worst that can well be charged against the whole affair is extreme indiscretion or folly: and it may be questioned whether the folly or indiscretion, on the part of the accusers, was not almost equal, in making that the subject of a state prosecution, as treasonable, which was really fit only to be treated with silent contempt, as unmeaning and ridiculous.

Dr. Parr entertained great esteem and veneration for “the good old major,” as he was often styled; and though as far as Mr. Fox himself from approving all his theoretical principles of government, yet he concurred entirely in the encomium which that eminent statesman pronounced in his place in parliament. “Major Cartwright,” said Mr. Fox, “is a man whose enlightened mind, whose profound constitutional knowledge, whose purity of principle and consistency of conduct through life, place him in the highest rank of public characters.”

During the short period of his attendance at Warwick assizes, Major Cartwright paid a visit to Dr. Parr at Hatton, where he was received with all that respect for his character, and that sympathy with his sufferings, to which he was so fully entitled. The strong feelings of his mind on the subject of the prosecution, Dr. Parr afterwards expressed in a letter to the major himself, dated Hatton, September 15, 1820, from which the following is an extract:—“I really and avowedly think you a most injured man; and I lament the servility, the corruption, the intolerance, and the cruelty, of which so many vestiges are to be found among the dignitaries of my own order; and, I am sorry to add, among the ministers of public justice. Our infatuated rulers are blindly rushing into every outrage that has a tendency to accelerate revolution,” &c.

Among the numerous witnesses summoned to appear on the trial of Major Cartwright, were Sir Francis Burdett, and Samuel Favell, Esq., one of the common-council of London; and the writer cannot deny himself the pleasure of recollecting a delightful day, passed in the company of these gentlemen, who did him the honour of accepting an invitation to dinner at Leam, where they were met by Dr. Parr, and a party of common friends. The number being small and select, the conversation freed from all restraint, soon became highly interesting and animated, especially on the part of the learned divine, and the illustrious senator. As might have been expected, at that turbulent season, politics were, with them, a leading topic of discussion; and the rashness and violence of the Liverpool-administration drew from both of them expressions of high indignation and abhorrence. Even the dreadful slaughter of unarmed and unresisting men and women at Manchester, they thought not so revolting to the feelings of justice and humanity, as the cool and deliberate approbation of it, expressed in the sovereign’s name, by Lord Sidmouth and his colleagues. Considered as the sudden and furious excess of zeal for loyalty, or alarm for public safety, it might have been apologised for, it was said, and pardoned. But to hold it forth as a legal and laudable act!—to adopt it as the measure of a regular government!—that, indeed, did appear to them horrible! What worse, it was asked, could be found in the summary justice, or the bloody executions, of barbarous states?

The memorable letter of Sir Francis Burdett to one of his constituents, on the subject just referred to, was not the less admired and applauded by Dr. Parr and all present, because it was so vehemently censured by the lovers of brute force and martial law; nor did the author of it express the least sense of shame or sorrow for having written it, though it had just been pronounced by a learned judge and a Leicestershire jury—grossly libellous.

Connected with the outrages at Manchester, was the trial of Mr. Hunt and others at York, which at that moment was drawing to its close: and on which the two illustrious guests of Leam thought they hazarded nothing in delivering the following opinion—that, from a view of the whole evidence, which had been published, it would be hardly possible to find a verdict of guilty; that, in case such a verdict should be found, the defendants could never, with any show of decency, be called up for judgment; but if so called up, that none but the mildest sentence could be passed, without offering a ruder shock to all the feelings of fairness and equity, than the public mind could bear. Alas! for the honour of British justice! history must record that every one of these most reasonable expectations was falsified by the event!

Amidst the gloomy prospects, which at that time gathered round the country, as a source of relief and hope, Sir Francis Burdett expatiated, with the noble enthusiasm of a benevolent mind, on the vast and wonderful diffusion of knowledge, of late years, penetrating through the mass of society down to its lowest orders; and he threw out the following observation, which obtained, in a particular manner, the notice and assent of Dr. Parr and of all present—that, if hitherto the course of human improvement has been in a direction from the higher to the lower ranks, now the process seems to be exactly reversed; that men in the inferior classes, by means of good education and cheap publications, are rapidly rising in the scale of intellect; and that from them intelligence is “working its way upward,” and forcing upon those of higher station the necessity of reading, inquiring, and reflecting. For, under such circumstances, it was contended, that, by the mere sense of shame, or the sheer love of superiority, in the absence of better motives, even the lazy and the stationary beings, with whom the privileged orders abound, will be impelled to mental exertion in discarding the ignorance, the errors, and the prejudices which degrade and disgrace them; and will find it impossible to keep their eyes closed against that increased and increasing light of knowledge, which shines and blazes all around them. Thus, as Sir Francis explained his ideas in a better manner than the writer with his best recollection can do, the vast movement of the human mind advances, through the whole collective body, rapidly and eagerly in the lower and the middle classes; and, by an impulse chiefly derived from them, somewhat slowly, indeed, and reluctantly, but yet surely, in the higher.

Among other topics, the invaluable writings of that extraordinary man, Jeremy Bentham, being mentioned, Sir Francis Burdett declared himself his profound admirer and attentive reader; and when the strange singularity, the puzzling perplexity, and sometimes the almost impenetrable obscurity of his style were objected, Sir Francis avowed that he liked it the better for that very reason; because it imposed a severe exercise upon his understanding, and obliged him to pause and reflect. At all events, he insisted, that if, in exploring the sense of the author, the labour was great, it was always amply rewarded by the value of the discovery. To this latter reason, at least, if not to the former, all who have studied the important writings in question will cordially assent. Dr. Parr did not lose the opportunity of declaring the high veneration which he had always felt for one, whom he considered as the “wisest man” of his time; whose powerful and penetrating mind has anticipated, he said, the improvement of coming ages; and who, on the all-important subject of jurisprudence, has discovered and collected knowledge which will scarcely find its way to the great mass of human intellect, perhaps, through the course of another century. On every occasion, he spoke with exulting pleasure of his friendly intercourse with Mr. Bentham; and in describing the warmth of their debates, he would say—“Ay, when we meet we often fight together like dragons.” On his part, the greatest political writer was no less gratified by this occasional intercourse with the greatest scholar of his age. He once good-humouredly called him a “housebreaker,” because when he had ordered himself to be denied to all visitants, Dr. Parr had several times effected a kind of forcible entrance; followed the servant, against his consent; pushed on his way into his master’s presence; and had then held him in close conversation, for some hours in succession. It does not appear that even these violent intrusions were disliked; or that stricter orders were given to prevent them.

CHAPTER XIII. A.D. 1816—1820. Death of Bishop Watson—His autobiography—His plans of ecclesiastical reform—Approved by Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Sheridan—Dr. Parr’s opinion of his biographer—Their interview at Hatton—Death of the Princess Charlotte—Dr. Parr’s funeral discourse on the occasion—Death of Dr. Combe—His character—Biographical notice of Dr. Burney—His epitaph written by Dr. Parr—Death of Sir S. Romilly—Dr. Parr’s intimacy with him—Death of Sir P. Francis—Dr. Parr’s opinion respecting the authorship of Junius’ Letters.

In the month of July 1816, died, at an advanced age, the truly excellent Dr. Watson, Bishop of Landaff; of whom it will long be remembered and repeated, as a tale of shame and reproach to the dispensers of ecclesiastical preferment during the reign of George III., that, with the strongest claims to the highest promotion, which talents, learning, exalted character, and important services can establish, he was doomed to remain for thirty-five years in possession of the poorest bishopric, utterly excluded from the prospect of farther advancements. In the history of this eminent prelate, and that of the subject of these Memoirs, stands glaringly exhibited the fact, so unpropitious to the well-being of the church, that its emoluments and dignities are the appropriated rewards, not of moral or literary excellence, but of political subserviency, and court-sycophancy. In such a state of things, can it be denied that the national establishment is grossly perverted from its proper and professed object, as an institution for religious purposes; and turned into a vast machine of state policy, injurious in its operations to the independence and respectability of the clergy, and to the rights and interests of the church and the country?

Soon after the death of Bishop Watson appeared in one 4to. volume, “Anecdotes of his Life,” written by himself; of which Dr. Parr always spoke in terms of high approbation. He considered the book not only as a pleasing delineation of the life of a scholar, emerging from obscurity, and rising to distinction by his own exertions; but also as a valuable record of sound, just, and reasonable opinions, on all the great questions of the times, most intimately connected with the stability and prosperity of the church, with the honour and welfare of the nation, and with the improvement, the order and happiness of the world. He admitted, indeed, that there is a want of dignity in the frequent and fretful complaints of ministerial neglect, which occur in these volumes; and yet, he would often candidly add—“we must remember, however, that they were by no means causeless complaints:” and whilst he allowed that the biographer sometimes talked too complacently of himself, he would often urge the fair consideration that, where conscious merit is shamefully underrated or overlooked, the language of self-vindication will be apt insensibly to run into that of self-commendation. “O yes!” he once said, speaking energetically, “the bishop’s claims were great—even if he did, in some degree, ‘make foul the clearness of his own deservings,’ as Shakespeare has it, by publishing them too pompously.”

In the Bibliotheca Parriana, twice is Bishop Watson censured by Dr. Parr, with some severity, though, as the writer thinks, with little reason, because he has admitted into his catalogue of books for the use of theological students a work, entitled “An Essay on the Nature and Existence of the Material World;” a work “of which the principles lead,” says Dr. Parr, “to unqualified scepticism in natural as well as revealed religion.”1 There is, indeed, little doubt that the admission complained of, was a mere act of inadvertence, easily pardonable in the selection of so large a number of books: yet, supposing the work in question was designedly admitted, and even recommended, where is the ground of censure? Upon the principles of fair and free inquiry, ought not the young student to be directed to read the ablest books, and to examine and weigh the strongest reasonings, on all sides of all important questions? And would not the very attempt in this enlightened age, to suppress opinions, and to stifle argument by concealment, no less than by force, be

1 “It is a curious fact, that the Bishop of Landaff gravely recommends this very work, as likely to please those who have a turn for metaphysical inquiries. I suspect he had hardly read beyond the title-page.”—“This book is negligently recommended in Bishop Watson’s list of books for young students in divinity! Risum teneatis, amici! S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 446.

regarded as unjust,—scarcely, indeed, practicable even if just?1

Bishop Watson was most of all admired and applauded by Dr. Parr, in his character of the ardent and intrepid advocate for unlimited toleration to all without the pale of the church; and for reform and improvement, carried to a wide extent, within it. In a charge delivered in 1792, speaking of the test and corporation acts, thus the bishop expresses himself:—“There seem to me but two reasons for excluding any man from office; the one, want of capacity; the other, want of attachment to the constitution of the country. That the dissenters want capacity will not be affirmed; that they want attachment to the civil constitution of the country, has been asserted, indeed, by many, but proved by none;” and, therefore, his inference is, that “all laws of exclusion against them are oppression.” On these principles, Bishop Watson nobly acted, when, at the request of Mr. Pitt, the subject of the test laws was taken into consideration by the bishops in full assembly. On that occasion, in opposition to the whole bench, with the single

1 “Another instance of the same unreasonable and disingenuous attempt to suppress opinion by concealment occurs in the following entry:—‘Livre des Trois Imposteurs’—‘Traite des Trois Imposteurs’—Both lettered on the back ‘Αρρητα και Άόρατα.’ These two books are scarcely to be met with, and Dr. Parr being offered the choice of one or the other, thought it more discreet and becoming for himself to keep both; and thus far prevent the diffusion of a dangerous opinion. Dr. Parr is very anxious that such books should not go abroad, and fall into the hands of young or mischievous persons.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 686.

exception of Bishop Shipley, he gave his unhesitating vote for their repeal; and he carried the same just principles into his view of the Catholic question, as noticed in a former page. “I make no secret of my opinion,” says he, “that the cordial reception of the Catholics and dissenters into the bosom of the constitution, by the extinction of all disqualifications, is not only due to them, but is become necessary to secure the independence of the empire, and the safety of the country.”1

The plan of ecclesiastical reform, proposed at different times by Dr. Watson, and approved, for the most part, by Dr. Parr, embraced within it almost all the great objects to which the hopes of many of the best friends of the church have been long and anxiously, but hitherto vainly, directed. It begins with a project for the more equitable and reasonable appropriation of its revenues, by equalising the bishoprics, and by reducing the very rich, and augmenting the very poor livings. It recommends, as the best means of terminating perpetual litigation between the parish and the priest, a commutation of tithes for land of equal value; and it strongly urges the necessity of strict prohibitory laws, to remove those scandals of the church—pluralities and non-residences. The plan proposes also the abolition of all subscription to human articles of faith; the revision of the thirty-nine articles; the amendment of the liturgy; the exclusion of the Athanasian, if not of the Nicene Creed; and the introduction of a corrected version of the Scriptures. Concurring, generally, in these views

1 Watson’s Anecdotes of his Life, vol. ii. p. 433, 8vo. ed.

of the wise and enlightened prelate, Dr. Parr used to say that, with some such plan of reform, adapted to the state of times of increasing knowledge, the church would stand and flourish for ages; but with no reform, no improvements—whilst improvement is rapidly advancing every where else—is it possible to hope for it, he would ask, a duration of even “twenty years” to come?

In the same month of July, in the same year, 1816, with the interval only of a few days, the state was deprived, as before the church had been, of one of its brightest ornaments. This was Mr. Sheridan, the early pupil and the constant friend of Dr. Parr, whose youthful genius he contributed to foster; whose career as a writer, a senator, an orator, as the leader of a party, and the counsellor of a prince, he watched, with mingled delight and solicitude; whose character, exhibiting in strong contrast its lights and its shades, he marked with blended admiration and regret; and whose death, attended with so many melancholy circumstances of destitution and distress, he lamented in bitter sorrow, not wholly disconnected with some keen feelings of indignation, directed towards those from whom relief at such a crisis might well have been expected. Most of the great faults imputed to Sheridan, may be traced to his wants and his debts; and when these are remembered to his disadvantage, it should always at the same time be recollected gratefully by his country, that had he been less sincerely or firmly devoted to her cause, “he might have died a rich apostate, instead of closing a life of patriotism in beggary; he might, to use a fine expression of his own, have hid his head in a coronet, instead of earning for it but the barren wreath of public gratitude.”1

These last are the words of his recent biographer, the Anacreon of Ireland, a philosopher and patriot, as well as a poet, whose “Memoirs of Sheridan,” though assisted by some communications from Dr. Parr, were not published till after his decease. But what the learned divine thought of the biographer himself, he has thus expressed in his last will:—“I bequeath a mourning ring to Thomas Moore, Esq., who stands high in my estimation, for his original genius, for his exquisite sensibility, for his independent spirit, and for his incorruptible integrity.”

Among the published “Recollections” of one of Dr. Parr’s friends, are given the following notes of a visit, when Mr. Moore was for the first time introduced to him at Hatton:—“The poet of freedom,” says the narrator, “was of course animated and brilliant; and Dr. Parr was highly delighted with him.” Speaking of the “Fudge Family,” Dr. Parr declared that he had been much amused with it; but seemed humorously to think an apology necessary for reading it. “It is seldom,” he said, “that I read modern books.”—“No, no,” added he, “but I have all these in my head;”—pointing to the vast collection of learned books stored up around him. Near the close of the visit, he desired his lady to join with him in expressing the sense she could not but entertain of the extraordinary merits of their visitor: and when she hesitated from diffidence, he exclaimed in his ener-

1 Moore’s Life of Sheridan, vol. ii. p. 492.

getic manner,—“She can’t speak; but I’ll tell you why—she is fascinated.” At parting, he presented a volume of Latin poetry of the middle ages to Mr. Moore, who seemed to set a great value on the gift;1 and who has thus expressed his opinion of the giver:—“to the massy erudition of a former age, he joined all the free and enlightened intelligence of the present.”

The 6th of November, 1817, is marked with mournful distinction in the annals of England, as the day on which happened an event, universally and justly regarded as a national calamity. This was the premature and melancholy demise of the Princess Charlotte, the heiress of the crown, and the pride, the hope and the joy of the nation. Never, perhaps, amidst the snares of grandeur, and especially of royal grandeur, did human character stand, in the general estimation, higher than that of this young princess; and the display of early excellence carried forward the fond expectations of all to a reign of talent and virtue, of happiness and glory. In the sorrows of a whole afflicted people, tributary to departed greatness and goodness, few participated more largely than the learned curate of Hatton: who, following the general example, addressed to his parishioners a pathetic and instructive discourse, on the affecting occasion. Though delivered in the morning of the Sunday, subsequent to the funeral, yet, to heighten the effect, the windows of his church, by his order, were closed; and the whole service was performed by the light of candles. Dr. Parr carried to a great length his opinion of the salutary

1 Monthly Mag. Jan. 1826.

effect, produced by exterior rites and forms; and thought that the sentiment of devotion need not disdain to borrow aid from the influence of solemn pomp and ceremony, acting through the medium of the senses, and the imagination, on the mind.

Early in 1817 died at London, in his seventy-fourth year, Charles Combe, M.D., the fellow-pupil at Harrow, afterwards the intimate friend, and subsequently the literary opponent, of Dr. Parr, in a controversy, of which some notice has been already taken.1 Commencing with questions of classical learning and critical taste, it soon degenerated into a personal altercation; during which some strange charges, rashly advanced by the editor of Horace, on the one side, were indignantly repelled by his reviewer, on the other. It was one of those “quarrels of authors,” which reflected little credit on the persons engaged in it, and especially on the accusing party; and Dr. Parr judged wisely in giving directions to his executors that his “Reply to the Statement of a Co-editor,” should make no part of the “Collected Works,” to be published by them.

Dr. Combe was a man highly respectable, as Dr. Parr bore testimony, even in the heat of debate, for his intellectual endowments, his moral excellencies, and his professional knowledge and skill: and he praised him, particularly, for his successful study of ancient medals, in which, indeed, he was unrivalled.2 It was this which introduced him to the friendly notice of the celebrated Dr. Wm. Hunter; by whom he was en-

1 See vol. i. p. 330. 2 Reply to Combe, p. 2. 22.

gaged to undertake the task of arranging and describing the noble collection of coins, which forms the most valuable part of the Hunterian Museum. The task was admirably begun, but never completed: and the Museum has, since the death of Dr. Hunter, been removed to Glasgow University; to which, by his bequest, it now belongs.

Towards the end of the year 1817, the world of letters had to lament the loss of one of its most illustrious scholars, in the death of the Rev. Charles Burney, LL.D. He was of a family, which possessed, and honourably though variously displayed, superior talents and attainments—his father, Dr. Burney, as a professor and historian of music—his elder brother, the late Admiral Burney, as the companion of Cook in his two last and most important voyages—and his sister, Madame D’Arblay, as the author of several pleasing and elegant works of fiction.

Dr. Burney was educated at the Charter-house; and was afterwards admitted of Caius College, Cambridge; whence he removed to King’s College, Aberdeen. Here he soon rose to distinction as a classical scholar, and regularly proceeded to his degree of A.M. From the same college he afterwards received his degree of LL.D. In 1781 he commenced his career, as an instructor of youth at Highgate; and pursued it, successively, at Chiswick, Hammersmith, and, finally, at Greenwich, where he established the celebrated school, over which still presides his son and successor, the Rev. C. Parr Burney; of whom Dr. Parr speaks, in his last will, with affectionate respect, “as his worthy godson, and the learned son of a very learned father.”

Dr. Burney, Professor Porson, and Dr. Parr, form the bright constellation of British luminaries, who shed a lustre over the classical, and especially the Greek literature of the age and the country in which they lived. Though it might be thought difficult to determine their relative stations in the rank of scholarship, yet Dr. Parr himself scrupled not to decide the question, by saying, as he often did, “There are three great Grecians in England: Porson is the first; Burney is the third; and who is the second, I need not tell.”1 But whatever superiority he might, justly or unjustly, claim for himself, it scarcely need be said, that he held in the highest possible estimation the learning, and especially the Greek learning, of Dr. Burney; to whom, for an accurate and intimate knowledge of the Grecian drama, probably, he would not have hesitated to assign the first place, instead of the last, in this great triumvirate of scholars.

Though the published works of Dr. Burney, whether as author or editor, are not numerous; yet some, at least, in the opinion of all scholars, possess high intrinsic value; particularly his “Bentleii et Doctorum Virorum Epistolæ,” and his “Tentamen de metris ab Æschylo, in choricis cantibus adhibitis.” The Monthly Review, from

1 Though the truth of this anecdote has been called in question, yet it is certain that the words here ascribed to Dr. Parr were uttered in the house of the writer, and in the hearing of some of his friends.

an early period, contains many criticisms on classical works by him: and his own name is certainly entitled to claim a place among the “Anglorum ΠΑΕΙΑΔΑ,” of whom he speaks, who, in the eighteenth century, says he, “Græcos scriptores, laboribus criticis, illuminârunt;” and whom he denominates, not perhaps with the happiest choice of expression, “Magnanimi heroes!”—“En! Bentleius, Dawesius, Marklandus, Taylorus, Toupius, Tyrwhittus, Porsonus.”1

Dr. Burney did not enter into holy orders till the year 1807. He was soon afterwards appointed one of his Majesty’s chaplains; and in 1815 was preferred to the valuable living of Deptford in Kent. Here he resided during the remaining portion of his life, which proved not long; for, on the morning of Christmas-day, 1817, he was seized with apoplexy, and within three days expired. A monumental tablet, erected by his parishioners in Deptford Church, bears an inscription, written by his friend Archdeacon Thomas, in which are thus drawn the great lines of his character:—“In him were united the highest attainments in learning, with manners at once dignified and attractive; and peculiar promptitude and accuracy of judgment, with equal generosity and kindness of heart. His zealous attachment to the Church of England was tempered with moderation; and his impressive discourses from the pulpit became doubly beneficial from the influence of his example. His parishioners erected this monument as a record of their affection for a revered pastor and friend, of

1 Pref. ad Tentamen de Metris, &c.

their gratitude for his services, and of their unspeakable regret for his loss.”

Soon after the death of Dr. Burney, it was determined by some of his former pupils, under the auspices of one of the most distinguished of that number, Dr. Kaye, now Lord Bishop of Bristol, to raise a monument in Westminster Abbey, as a tribute of their own sincere and grateful respect for the memory of an honoured and lamented preceptor: and the arduous task of writing the Latin inscription was committed to Dr. Parr.1 Indeed, among the friends of Dr. Burney, no one could easily have been found more capable, of estimating his attainments and his services as a scholar, of appreciating his merits and his attractions as a man and a divine, and of representing them to others with all the strong and impressive effect, of which the language, intended to be employed, so well admits. “This epitaph,” says one of those at whose request it was written, “harmonious and correct and vigorous as it is in its language—excellent as it is for the selection of its topics—is peculiarly gratifying, as it contains a portrait of the deceased, which with the utmost truth of delineation, and freshness of colouring, delightfully brings back him, who is departed, to the recollection of all who knew him.”2

Early in November, 1818, closed, under deplorable circumstances, the life of one of the greatest, wisest and best men of his time, Sir Samuel Romilly. It will excite in no considerate mind any other emotion than that of unmingled sorrow,

1 App. No. II. 2 Gent. Mag. April, 1819.

to be told that he died in consequence of a delirium, brought on by excessive grief for the loss of a beloved wife, which armed his own hand against himself. The writer will not attempt, nor will the reader expect, a delineation of the various excellencies which shone out in his character, diffusing a lustre over every path of life, public or private, in which he moved. Delightful, indeed, would it be, to indulge in the recollection of those important services, which he has rendered to the cause of justice, liberty, and humanity, through the course of a laborious life, by the exertion of faculties, which, if not of the highest intellectual order, were yet powerful, and of a kind admirably fitted for the accomplishment of practical good; and which, to that one great object were ever faithfully and ardently devoted. But reluctantly turning away from a spectacle so grand arid so attractive, as that of fine talent, high principle, and generous sentiment, brought together in beautiful union, and put forth, under the direction of the soundest wisdom, in active effort, for the benefit of mankind—the writer hastens to his purpose, of merely recording the long and sincere friendship which subsisted between Dr. Parr, and the great and excellent man whose name has just been mentioned.

That friendship commenced soon after his first appearance at the bar, in 1783: when, having fixed his choice on the midland circuit, Sir Samuel Romilly, for several years, constantly attended the assizes and the quarter-sessions at Warwick. On such occasions, he seldom failed to visit Hatton, where he was always received with cordial welcome by Dr. Parr; whose discerning eye soon discovered in his opening character, the clear presages of his future fame and fortune. It was after his departure, on one of these occasions, that, speaking to a friend and a pupil, who had been present, Dr. Parr said, “mark my words—Romilly is a great man—we, who are his friends, know this now; but, in a little time, the world will know it.” This was spoken more than twenty-seven years ago, when that name was little heard of, which the noblest energies, devoted to the best of causes, have since consecrated to the grateful and honourable remembrance of mankind for ages to come.1

In consequence of rapidly increasing practice, after a few years, Sir Samuel withdrew from the circuit, and confined himself to the duties of a Chancery barrister, united with those of a British senator. From that time, his personal intercourse with Dr. Parr was less frequent; but they still kept up, by letter, an interchange of thoughts, confidentially communicating to each other their sentiments on all the great public questions of the times: those especially to which the attention of Sir Samuel Romilly, as a lawyer or a legislator, were more particularly directed. When his extraordinary merits, and the similarity of their views and principles on all subjects of deepest interest to mankind are considered, it will surprise no one to find it recorded in the “Last Will” of Dr. Parr, that “he regarded his lamented friend with esteem and

1 New Monthly Mag. Aug. 1816.

affection more than brotherly.” During his lifetime, he had been induced to offer to his acceptance, φιλίας χάριν, a very valuable present of plate, which was received by Sir Samuel only a short time previously to his death.

When the dreadful intelligence of that melancholy event was brought to him, Dr. Parr was dining at the house of a friend. He instantly laid down his knife and fork, and covered his face with his hands. An eye-witness declared to the writer’s informant, that he never beheld a more affecting sight. For a moment, he was the image of dumb-despairing grief. Then turning away from the table, his eyes filled with tears, he arose and quitted the room. Retiring into another apartment, he begged to be left alone. After some time, he called for his servant, and, as he filled his pipe, anxiously inquired whether Sir Samuel had received the plate, intended to be sent to him? whether he was certain that it had been delivered at his house? On receiving the desired assurance, he expressed much satisfaction, saying it was a comfort to him to know it. He hardly ever afterwards mentioned the name of Romilly, without a pause of reverence before he uttered it, followed by a deep sigh. He is said to have expressed several times an intention of composing and publishing some work, tributary to the memory of his lamented friend. But this, it is apprehended, was rather a wish than a purpose; or, if it ever ripened into a project, nothing was done, as far as appears, to carry it into effect.

In the course of the year 1818, another public character, of no small eminence, disappeared from the scene of earthly existence in Sir Philip Francis. Born an Irishman, he became, by education and habits of life, an Englishman. After having served with credit in some of the subordinate offices of government at home, he was sent in 1773 to India, as one of the members of the council at Calcutta. Here he distinguished himself by his opposition to the oppressive measures of Mr. Hastings’ administration; and, on his return to England, by his indefatigable exertions to bring the oppressor to public disgrace and punishment. Having obtained a seat in parliament, he acquired and ever supported the reputation of an upright senator, and an able and impressive speaker. He lived, and enjoyed life, to the advanced age of seventy-eight; and, from his activity and usefulness, continued to the last, it was said of him, “that his country could have better spared many a younger man.”

But the name of this distinguished senator is introduced into these pages, chiefly from its connexion with that great literary question of modern times—“Who was Junius?” An attempt has been made, as the reader is perhaps aware, to prove that the nominis umbra, so long the object of curious and dubious search, is no other than Sir Philip Francis; and that it was he, whose mighty pen held in awe the political world, though the hand which guided it was unknown, and even unguessed. A work entitled “Junius identified,” and an elaborate criticism upon it, by Mr. Brougham, in the Edinburgh Review, has successfully tracked, in the opinion of many, the real Junius, through the shades of wonderful and mysterious secrecy, in which it was his singular choice to live, and his firm resolve to die; and from which he has hitherto been able to set at defiance all efforts of inquiry, and all hopes of discovery. Speaking of these publications, a very learned judge is said to have declared, “that if any dependence can be placed upon the law of presumptive evidence, the case is made out;” and the general opinion seems to be, that the long-agitated question is, by these publications, set at rest. “Ad extremum, manifesta deprehensione, conclusa res est.”1

But Dr. Parr, who had examined the question with deep attention, though with strong bias on his mind, in favour of another person, writing to a friend, thus expresses himself:—“We must all grant that a strong case has been made out for Francis; but I could set up very stout objections to those claims. It was not in his nature to keep a secret. He would have told it from his vanity, or from his courage, or from his patriotism. His bitterness, his acuteness, his vivacity, are stamped in characters very peculiar upon many publications, that bear his name; and very faint, indeed, is their resemblance to the spirit, and, in an extended sense of the word, to the style of Junius.”

In a letter to another friend, on the same subject, Dr. Parr thus writes:—“Sir Philip Francis was too proud to tell a lie; and he disclaimed the work. He was too vain to refuse celebrity, which he was conscious of deserving. He was too intrepid to

1 Cicero.

shrink, when danger had nearly passed by. He was too irascible to keep the secret; by the publication of which, at this time of day, he could injure no party with which he is connected, nor any individual for whom he cared. Besides, we have many books of his writing upon many subjects, all of them stamped with the same character of mind. Their general lexis, as we say in Greek, has no resemblance to the lexis of Junius; and the resemblance in particulars can have far less weight than the want of a general resemblance. Francis uniformly writes English. There is Gallicism in Junius. Francis is furious, but not malevolent. Francis is never cool; and Junius is never ardent.”

Dr. Parr’s own opinion respecting this great literary secret of modern times, he has stated in a letter to Charles Butler, Esq. of Lincoln’s Inn, from which the following is an extract:—1

“For these forty years I have had the firmest conviction that Junius was Mr. Lloyd, brother of Philip Lloyd, dean of Norwich, and secretary to George Grenville.2 My information came from two most sagacious observers; and when I spoke to the second, I did not tell him what I had previously heard from the first. One of my witnesses was Dr. Farmer, a most curious, indefatigable, acute searcher into literary anecdote; and he

1 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 224.

2 “Junius’s Letters, 2 vols.—The writer of Junius was Mr. Lloyd, secretary to George Grenville. This will one day or other be generally acknowledged. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 407.

spoke with confidence unbounded. The other was a witness of a yet higher order, who opposed, and, I think, confuted Junius, upon the Middlesex election.1 He was a most wary observer, and a most incredulous man, indeed: he had access, not to great statesmen, but to the officers who were about the House of Commons and the House of Lords: he rested neither day nor night, till he had made his discovery; and there lives not the human being, upon whose judgment I could rely more firmly for a fact. When you and I meet, I will tell you the whole story. All that I shall now add, is, that a very sagacious gentleman of Ireland, who died last year, had, from other. premises, worked out the same conclusion. I could, with little effort, refute all that has been said about single-speech Hamilton, Edmund Burke, Glover,2 author of Leonidas, and Sir Philip Francis.”

But with deference to the great authorities here appealed to, and in opposition to all that he has heard from Dr. Parr and others, the present writer is of opinion that, among all the rival claims for the authorship of Junius’s letters, those of Mr. Lloyd seem to him to rest on the slightest foundation. One fact, which, if well attested, would go far to decide the question, is, that he had been in a languishing state of health for some time, and was

1 Probably Dr. Nathaniel Forster of Colchester. See vol. i. p. 111, note.

2 “Memoirs of Mr. Glover.—This book abounds with interesting anecdotes. The editor supposes the author of Leonidas to be the same with Junius; but in this, I believe, he was mistaken. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 406.

actually lying on his death-bed, at the date of the last of Junius’s letters; which yet indicates in the writer the full possession of health and vigour. On the same side of the question must also be placed, as a weighty consideration, the judgment of Mr. Butler, and of a literary friend, delivered in the following words:—

“The last time that Dr. Parr was in town, he communicated to me the evidence and arguments by which he supported his hypothesis that Mr. Lloyd was the author of the letters signed ‘Junius.’ They appeared to me very inconclusive. A literary gentleman of the highest eminence, to whom also he communicated them, thought the same. I have quite forgotten them.”1

1 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 258.

CHAPTER XIV. A.D. 1819. Northern tour—Dr. Parr at the Lakes—His visit to Mrs. Watson—Mr. Curwen—Mr. Brougham—Sir J. Graham—Dr. Parr at Glasgow—His interview with Mr. Kinman, Mr. Graham, &c.—His visit at Ballock Castle—His opinion of Professor Young—Professor Milne—Mr. Pillans, &c.—His visit to Bishop Gleig—Dr. Parr at Edinburgh—His friendly intercourse with Professor Stewart—His preference of the Hartleyan to the Scotch philosophy—His opinion of Professors Brown, Dalzel, &c.—His interviews with Mr. Jeffrey, Mr. Fletcher, &c.—His opinion of Sir Walter Scott—Dr. Parr’s return home—Visit to Sir C. Monck, Archbishop of York, &c.

Early in 1819 Dr. Parr formed the project of a tour through the northern counties of England, and the southern counties of Scotland, from which he anticipated much pleasure; and which proved to him the source of many agreeable reflections, through the remaining years of life. Thus, in arranging his plans, he writes for information to his friend, Mr. Parkes:

“Dear Sir,—If it be practicable, I shall go from Carlisle into Scotland. Will you favour me with an account of the distances from Carlisle to Glasgow, and from Glasgow to Edinburgh? Note, if you please, the intermediate stage; and add the names of the second or third best inns. I never go to hotels, or grand houses of entertainment. Be so good as to write at your leisure, fully, on a large sheet of paper. It may be the last journey I shall ever take; and certainly it is the longest I ever did undertake. Yours, very truly,

S. Parr.— May 29, 1819.”

In the following month of July, Dr. Parr left Hatton, accompanied by the Rev. John Lines, afterwards his grandson-in-law, and his friend Thomas Sanctuary, Esq. of Wissenden, in Norfolk, and attended by his old and faithful servant, Samuel Coleman. He travelled by way of Birmingham, Manchester, Lancaster, Kendall; and arrived before the end of the month in the midst of the magnificent scenery, formed by the vast assemblage of lakes and mountains, in Westmoreland and Cumberland. Here he continued for some time, “astonished and enchanted,” as he expressed it, at almost every turn and step, by the view which nature, in this romantic region, exhibits of the grand and the awful, united with the picturesque and the beautiful.

But the powerful fascination, which all experience in viewing these wonders of creation, nowhere did he feel more, he said, than at Keswick—that “vale of Elysium,” as it is termed by his favourite poet, Gray. The sketch which the bard has given, in bold outline, though without the least attempt to add effect by shade and colouring, Dr. Parr found to be as faithfully as it is minutely drawn. But perhaps a more concise, and at the same time exact and impressive description could not easily be given than the following, from the pen of Dr. Brown:—:

“The full perfection of Keswick consists of three circumstances—beauty, horror, and immensity: but to give a complete idea of the three, as they are here conjoined, would require the united powers of Claude, Salvator, and Poussin. The first should throw his delicate sunshine over the cultivated vales, the scattered cots, the groves, the lake and wooded islands. The second should dash out the horror of the rugged cliffs, the steeps, the hanging woods, and foaming waterfalls: whilst the grand pencil of Poussin should crown the whole, with the majesty of the impending and soaring mountains.”

But though by no means insensible, like Dr. Johnson, to the charms of nature, whether attired in sylvan ease, or arrayed in solemn grandeur; yet social and intellectual enjoyments were those in which Dr. Parr most of all delighted; and of these his northern tour procured for him an ample share. He had the pleasure of visiting Mrs. Watson, widow of the late excellent Bishop of Landaff, on the banks of the Winander Mere, and Mr. Curwen, the member for Cumberland, at Workington Castle. He passed two delightful days at Brougham Hall, the seat of the celebrated barrister; and as many at Netherby, the elegant mansion of his former pupil, Sir James Graham: the possessor of an immense territory, which was converted by the care of his father, Dr. Graham, at a vast expense, from a barren waste into a highly cultivated and beautifully ornamented tract.

From Netherby, Dr. Parr crossed the borders; and, taking the road through Moffat and Hamilton, arrived, early in the month of August, at Glasgow. It hardly need be said that he was greatly pleased with all that he saw of this handsome city, especially the high-church, the infirmary, the theatre, and the college-buildings; and that he was highly delighted with the society of learned and enlightened men, to whom he was introduced. Among these were “the witty, the keen-sighted and the right-hearted, Mr. Kinman,” as Dr. Parr describes him; and Mr. Graham, the advocate, “whose intellectual powers, whose virtuous feelings, and whose enlarged views on the duties, interests and rights of man, in a state of civilised society could not fail,” he said, “to make a deep impression on his mind.”1

Dr. Parr was indebted for many kind attentions to Mr. Buchanan,2 at that time the member for Dumbartonshire, and brother-in-law of his old friend, Mr. Parkes; at whose, seat, Ballock Castle, beautifully situated on the banks of Loch Lomond, he passed four or five pleasant days. In grateful remembrance of the obligations which he then received, this gentleman and some of his family

1 Last Will.

2 “Scott’s Staggering State of the Scot’s Statesman for 100 Years, &c.—In the month of April, 1815, I met Mr. Buchanan at the house of his brother-in-law, John Parkes, Esq., North Gate-street, Warwick; and some how or other I was led to speak of this work, and my own unsuccessful attempts to purchase it. Mr. Buchanan, at the moment, did not seem to take notice of my words; but, on Thursday, June 1, 1815, I, to my great surprise and great joy, received from Mr. Parkes the precious volume; accompanied by a most sensible and polite letter from Mr. Buchanan. Gladly and gratefully do I acknowledge this important act of kindness. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 418.

are thus respectfully noticed in his ‘Last Will.’ “I bequeath to my enlightened and hospitable friend, John Buchanan, Esq., to his ingenious and well-informed son, and to the studious, the artless and kind-hearted Mr. Creichton, tutor of Mr. Buchanan, jun., each a ring as a token of my regard.”

The state of Glasgow university could not fail to be the object of solicitous inquiry to Dr. Parr; and the opinion he formed of it was favourable. Of Professor Young he thought so highly, as to declare that “if he had to prescribe the best possible plan of a liberal education, an attendance on the Greek lectures of that learned professor should make a part of it.” For the memory of the late Professor Reid, so eminently distinguished by his writings on the philosophy of mind, and for that of Professor Millar, scarcely less distinguished for his publications on the great subjects of law and government, Dr. Parr cherished a profound veneration. The present Professor Milne he admired, he said, “alike for his exemption from affectation and pedantry, and for his distinguished proficiency in useful and ornamental literature.”

The want of good grammar-schools, preparatory to its universities, struck him as the great defect in the system of education in Scotland; and to engage the services of well-qualified masters, brought up in the public schools of England, he thought would be the best remedy for it. He held, however, in due estimation the sound learning, taught at the High-school, Edinburgh, so far as it extends; and spoke always with great respect of the head-master, Mr. Pillans, and of the second master, Mr. Carson; whose grammatical work he considered as one of the most useful books, which can be put into the hands of young Latin scholars. Thus highly he commends it, in a letter to a friend:1 “I am going to mention a book, which has long been a desideratum. The under-master of the High-school, Edinburgh, has written a very judicious and instructive book upon qui, quæ, quod, and the subjunctive mood. I have recommended it to some of the first schools in this kingdom. He who makes himself master of this book will understand principles, not very well understood in our public schools hitherto. I am taking pains to diffuse the knowledge of them.”

Leaving Glasgow, he made an excursion through Kilsyth to Stirling. Here, with a melancholy pleasure, he surveyed the remains of former grandeur in the castle: including within its vast precincts the parliament-house, now almost roofless, and falling fast to decay; and the palace, from a royal residence converted into military barracks. Dr. Parr and his party were well received, he said, by the governor, who resides in spacious apartments, kept in good repair. He often recollected, with much satisfaction, his interview at Stirling with the venerable Bishop Gleig, whom he describes2 as “very orthodox, but very honest, and eminently enlightened.” From Stirling, passing through Linlithgow, where he stopped to view the old palace, famous as the birth place of the unfortunate Queen of Scots, but now a ruin, he arrived

1 Rev. Charles Berry of Leicester. 2 Bibl. Parr. p. 603.

at Edinburgh, and took up his residence at Macgregor’s Hotel in Princes-street.

In viewing the objects of curiosity, which the antiquities of the old and the splendour of the new town presented, he found much to amuse and interest. But his greatest enjoyment was derived from the company and the conversation of many of the most distinguished persons in the city; by all of whom he was received with the kindest and most respectful attentions. It was ever delightful to him to talk of the days of “intense intellectual gratification” which he passed at Edinburgh; and he seemed to entertain a higher opinion, if possible, than before, of the literary men who so well supported in their time the honour reflected on their country, by the fame of David Hume, Robertson, Adam Smith, John Home, Black, Blair, and others. He often spoke with admiration of their great intellectual powers; or, as he expressed it, “their confounded strong heads;” and loved to expatiate on the important services which they have rendered to science, useful learning, and elegant literature. Though Edinburgh university is most of all renowned as a medical school, yet, as a place of general education, he thought it entitled to high praise for “the many admirable lectures, delivered by a succession of the ablest professors, on the greatest subjects that can interest human curiosity, or exercise human understanding.” He once mentioned to a friend that, in consequence of reports, much circulated in England, of the want of care in the northern universities, to inculcate religious principles and feelings, he had directed his inquiries particularly to that point; “and on that point, I am happy to say,” added he, “I found all right.”

On this important subject, he had ventured, some years before, to express a favourable opinion, in the following passage in one of his published works;1 and it must have been a peculiar satisfaction to him to find it confirmed by his own observations, during his visit in Scotland:—“From the celebrity of Mr. Hume’s name, the depth of his researches, the acuteness of his reasonings, the felicity of his illustrations, the captivating beauties of his style, and the amiable qualities of his heart, a suspicion has arisen, that his opinions about religion are widely diffused among the more enlightened inhabitants of North Britain. On the contrary,” says Dr. Parr, “they distinguish between the sober advances of theologians, in the broad and beaten road of common sense, and their hasty strides in the obscure and winding by-paths of metaphysics. They separate superstition, which must enfeeble and debase the mind, from religion, which ought to invigorate and exalt it. They assign to them not only the truth of a doctrine, but the energy of a sentiment, and the comprehensiveness of a principle. They admit not only the capacity of the human understanding to infer the existence of a deity from his works, but the propensity of the human heart to view him as the governor and judge, as well as the creator of the world; to do him homage by acts of reverential and grateful adoration; to look upon his will as a

1 Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 159.

rule of action; to feel in his displeasure an object of most alarming but salutary fear; and to rejoice in the hope of his favour, as animating our strongest affections and noblest faculties in the pursuit of virtue.”

Among his literary friends at Edinburgh, the first mention is due to the celebrated professor of moral philosophy, “the sagacious, the enlightened, the virtuous Dugald Stewart,” as Dr. Parr designates him: “in whose writings,” as he adds, “are united the perspicuity of Dr. Reid, the acuteness of Adam Smith, and the precision of David Hume.”1 The moral and intellectual sympathies of such men must have rendered their interview delightful. Dr. Parr visited Mr. Stewart at his residence, Kinneil House,2 and saw him several times in various companies. To the merits of this eminent professor he has borne a respectful and affectionate testimony in the following clause of his Last Will:—“A friend endeared to my soul, from the simplicity of his manners, the candour of his spirit, and the purity of his principles; and who, at the same time, commands my admiration by his profound and capacious views, as a metaphysician; and by the correctness, by the perspicuity, and occasionally by the glowing and sublime eloquence which adorn his style.”3

1 Spital Serm. Notes, p. 112.

2 “Napier’s Remarks on the Writings of Lord Bacon.—This book was given by the author to Dugald Stewart; and by Dugald Stewart it was given to me at Kinneil House, Aug. 25, 1819. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 447.

3 “Stewart’s Philos. Essays.—The gift of the author, my

But neither the partiality of friendship to the man, nor the admiration of excellence in the philosopher and the writer, could induce Dr. Parr to admit or approve the system of mental philosophy, which Professor Stewart, it is well known, has zealously espoused; and which he has supported with all the powers of his vigorous and cultivated mind, and adorned with all the charms of his clear, correct, and elegant composition. This system, first propounded by Dr. Reid, which places the foundation of human knowledge in certain “instinctive principles of truth;” or, as Professor Stewart rather chooses to term them, certain “fundamental laws of human belief,” depends, as it appeared to Dr. Parr, upon far too many gratuitous assumptions; and he agreed in opinion with those, who think that, by multiplying, almost without bounds, the number of original innate principles, this system throws back, instead of carrying forward, the science of mind; and perplexes and obscures the subject, which it attempts to explain.

But if he disapproved of the leading principles of the new philosophy, he disliked still more the spirit of arrogance and insult, with which it has been too often maintained against those, who have adopted theories different from, or opposed to it. He could never think or speak, without shame and grief, of such expressions as “the quibbles of Locke,”1 “the reveries of Hartley,”2 and other

inestimable friend, and the most enlightened philosopher now living. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 456.

1 Stewart’s Philos. Essays, 4to. p. 40. 2 Ibid. p. 130.

contemptuous phrases, which Mr. Stewart had suffered to fall from his pen, inconsistently both with his professed character as a philosopher, and with the natural candour and courtesy of his own disposition and manners. Though Dr. Parr thought most highly of the professor as a man of letters, he estimated at a lower rate his pretensions as a man of science; and he more than once observed to the present writer, that in the successful investigation of the phenomena of mind, the professor, with all his fair and acknowledged claims, must be content to take his station far below the two great philosophers, whose labours he has unjustly depreciated, and whose fame he has rudely assailed.

Dr. Parr read, with some care, though with little satisfaction, the writings of another Scotch philosopher, Dr. Gregory, jun., author of “Philosophical and Literary Essays,” one of the most zealous of all Dr. Reid’s disciples: who undertook the mighty task of demonstrating his adopted system mathematically. “Though my mind,” said Dr. Parr, “was vigorously exercised, rather than ultimately convinced, by the elaborate work of Dr. Gregory, on liberty and necessity, yet I feel for him much respect, as a very acute reasoner, and a very instructive moralist.”1 He lamented, however,—and who would not?—that this writer has exceeded all his associates in the severity of his censures, directed against the advocates of the opposing system; since he scruples not to lay on them the heavy charge of mala fides; in avowing and maintaining doctrines secretly disbelieved.

1 Spital Serm. Notes, p. 159.

From his attachment to the theory, opposed to that of Reid and Stewart, Dr. Parr never failed to urge on every youthful inquirer the close and careful study of Locke, in whose work, he thought, the solid foundation of all just knowledge of the human mind is laid; and in addition to it, or, sometimes, in substitution of it, he recommended the treatise of Locke’s admirable expounder, Condillac. “I have advised a friend,” said he, on one of these occasions, “whose fastidious taste is offended by the style of Locke, to read Condillac. There,” continued he, “will be found all the principles of Locke, brought into a small compass, and presented in a clear and intelligible form.”

Of Hartley he entertained an almost enthusiastic reverence; both for the purity, piety and benevolence of his heart, and for the depth, the comprehension, the sagacity, and the eminent success of his researches.1 In such high estimation did he hold the “Observations on Man,” that, probably, he would not have dissented from the opinion of Dr. Priestley, who placed that work, for the instruction he derived from it, next in value to the Scriptures. Dr. Parr read it much; he quoted it largely in his own writings; and, about twenty years ago, he took upon himself to reprint a small Latin treatise, entitled “Conjecturæ quædam de sensu, motu, et idearum generatione.” This treatise, containing the outlines of the theory, he said,

1 “Hartley has investigated the principle of association more deeply, explained it more accurately, and applied it more usefully than even his great and venerable precursor Mr. Locke.”—Dr. Parr’s First Sermon on Education, p. 42.

was written by Dr. Hartley, and published without his name, as the precursor of his great work. Thus cautiously did he proceed, observed Dr. Parr, intending to try what effect a concise statement of his doctrine might produce upon the mind of the learned reader, before the full exposition of it was offered to the world. “See,” said Dr. Parr, “what a perilous attempt it is, to decry old errors, and to advance new truths! Dr. Hartley found it so,” added he; “for, with all his cautiousness, and the evident sincerity and simplicity, with which his whole book is written, it was received, at first, with indifference, with wonder, or with contempt; and now, when his reputation begins at last to rise, the Scotch philosophers come, striving, with the hand of violence, to beat it down.”

Of the literary productions, sent forth of late years from the northern universities, one, of which Dr. Parr used to speak in terms of high, almost unmeasured praise, was “Lectures on the Philosophy of Mind, 4 vols.” by Dr. Thomas Brown, professor of moral philosophy at Edinburgh; who had previously distinguished himself by an admirable essay on “The Relation of Cause and Effect.” The latter is noted in the Bibliotheca Parriana,1 “as the gift of the excellent and most enlightened author;” and the former is characterised by the single expressive word “inestimable.” Professor Brown was by no means disposed to subscribe to the prevailing doctrines of the Scottish school. He thought and judged for himself; he pushed his inquiries

1 Page 428.

freely and intrepidly into the whole extent of his subject; and his investigations, conducted on sounder and soberer principles, have proved in their result far more satisfactory. But, unhappily, before he could put his last hand to his great work, after suffering much from the effects of declining health, Dr. Brown expired at Bromley, near London, early in 1820, in the forty-second year of his age.

Another learned professor, who contributed much to support the high reputation of Edinburgh, though no longer living at the time of Dr. Parr’s visit in that city, was the Greek professor, Mr. Dalzel, author of several elementary volumes,1 to which many a youthful scholar owes much obligation. His works, introductory to the noblest language of antiquity, Dr. Parr considered as of superlative excellence; and on his Latinity he has passed the following encomium: “Among the Latin compositions, which have come forth from the universities of Scotland, since the time of Dr. Hutcheson, I have seen none so distinguished by the best effects of early practice and well-formed taste, so accurate in the choice of phraseology, so easy in the structure of the sentences, and so harmonious in the cadence of the periods, as the writings of Professor Dalzel.”2

There were two men of eminence at Edinburgh,

1 “Dalzel’s Coll. Græca Maj. 2 vols.—The gift of the learned and worthy professor. Coll. Græca Min.—Viro celeberrimo Samueli Parr, LL.D., hunc libellum, summse observantise causa, misit A. Dalzel, 1802.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 161.

2 Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 159.

in whose society Dr. Parr had hoped to pass many agreeable hours; but, in this hope, he was mournfully disappointed, by their death; which took place, in one case a few months, and in the other a few weeks only, before his arrival. The first was Professor Playfair, who endeared himself to his friends by the charms of kind disposition and gentle manners, blended with the dignity which pure moral principles and conduct bestow; and who raised himself by his great and various attainments both in literature and science to a high place, in the estimation of the university, to which he belonged, and of the whole literary world. The second was the well-known historian of Scotland, Malcolm Laing, Esq., whose work was emphatically styled by Mr. Fox “a treasure;” opening new sources, he said, of interesting information; presenting new views of important transactions; and constituting a valuable acquisition to all who wish to obtain a true knowledge of the history of the nation of which it treats. Upon the same work Dr. Parr has also passed his encomium, in the following terms: “The ardour of Mr. Laing in the cause of liberty is not disgraced, by democratic coarseness or theoretic refinement. His inquiry into the controverted question of Mary’s participation in the death of Darnley is minute without tediousness, and acute without sophistry. Whether I consider,” says he, “his sagacity in explaining causes, his clearness in relating facts, his vigour in pourtraying characters, or his ingenuity in unfolding and enforcing principles, I shall ever find reason to lament that the continuance of Hume’s history was not undertaken by a writer, so eminently qualified as Mr. Laing for a work so arduous and important.”1

Among other persons, to whom he was introduced at Edinburgh, it is impossible that he should not have felt animated and delighted by the conversation of the celebrated Mr. Francis Jeffrey; “whose various knowledge,” says Dr. Parr, “whose keen penetration, whose inviolable integrity and ardent patriotism do honour to his country and his age.” It was, no doubt, with strong feelings of esteem and gratitude, intermingled with some painful recollections, that he met Mr. Fletcher, “the humane comforter and the spirited advocate,” as he himself calls him, “of his infatuated but ever to be lamented pupil, Joseph Gerald.” Another gentleman of the Scotch bar, Mr. Murray, he mentions, “as a most eloquent pleader, and a most honourable man:” and of the keeper of the archives, Mr. Thompson, he speaks, “as a man, whose various and curious stores of information are accompanied by the clearest discernment and the most exquisite taste.”

He was, once or twice, in the company of an author of greater and more extended celebrity, perhaps, than any other of his time: whose diversified talents have been displayed in the various departments of poetry, biography, history, criticism, and works of fiction. This, the reader need not be told, is Sir Walter Scott; whose conversation, however, it was noticed, that Dr. Parr rather

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 704.

avoided than solicited. He conceived, whether justly or unjustly, that the literary Hercules had proved himself, on certain occasions, a political Proteus: and the slightest deviation from public principle was with him an offence not easily forgiven. This suspicion of the public man, no doubt, influenced the opinion, which he always avowed of the author. He thought that his fame was more brilliant, than solid or lasting. “As a critic or a biographer, who,” said Dr. Parr, “will attempt to carry up his claims very high?”—“His reputation must, then,” continued he, “depend chiefly upon his poems and his novels.”—“But is not his poetry even now,” added he, “almost forgotten? And does not their fading popularity threaten the same fate to his novels?”—The present writer, who is but slightly acquainted with the works of this celebrated author, cannot, however, bring himself to believe that so universal, and such long-continued public estimation could exist, unsupported by real and great merit; and if that merit may have been sometimes rated too high, he finds it impossible to doubt that it is brought down far too low by the above language, which, nevertheless, as the well-known opinion of Dr. Parr, he has felt himself obliged to record.

Writing to a friend during his stay at Edinburgh, Dr. Parr remarks, “that the beauties and glories of this city are correctly though faintly pourtrayed in a ‘Tour through England and Scotland, by Thomas Newte, Esq.;’ a work replete,” says he, “with profound research and useful observa-tion, which do equal honour to the author, as a philosopher, and a patriot.”1 Writing to another friend, he slightly sketches his own “tour,” in a letter dated Edinburgh, August 21, 1819.

“Dear Sir,—You will be glad to hear that I am in good health, and that I have had a most delightful journey. We visited the lakes. Sanctuary and Sam ascended Skiddaw, whilst I was on the Derwent-Water. Skiddaw is the grandest mountain I ever saw in England; but must yield to Ben Lomond. After passing two days with Mr. Brougham, we finished our English travels at the fine seat of Sir James Graham. We are charmed with North Britain. The scenery of nature, and the improvement from art throughout Scotland, far surpass my expectation. No part of my journey has been more pleasant to me than the time I spent at Balloch Castle, the seat of Mr. Buchanan, finely situated on the banks of Loch Lomond. Pray tell Mr. Parkes of the delightful visit I had at his brother-in-law’s. We were well received at Glasgow, Stirling, Linlithgow, and no less so at Edinburgh. To-day I set off for Mr. Dugald Stewart’s, Kinneil House; and shall return on Wednesday. Last Sunday I heard an excellent discourse from Bishop Gleig, primate of the Scotch Episcopal Church; and to-morrow I shall be a hearer of the celebrated Mr. Allison. I shall leave Edinburgh on Saturday next, on my return home. We meet with hospitality, rank, affluence, learning and science, every where; and, after

“Newte’s book was written by Dr. W. Thompson. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 412.

these luxuries, physical, intellectual, and moral, I must be content with the tame and lifeless scenes of Warwickshire. Pray remember me to all my friends; and especially to my good parishioners, whom I do not forget amidst all my high and exquisite enjoyments. I am, &c.—

S. Parr.”

Leaving Edinburgh early in the month of September, and travelling through Berwick, Newcastle, Durham, York, Sheffield, and Nottingham, Dr. Parr reached Hatton, early in the following month of October. On this journey, he was kindly and hospitably entertained, for several days, at Belsay Castle, the seat of Sir Charles Monck,1 the member for Northumberland, and the near relative of his friend and his physician, Dr. Middleton of Leamington; and, afterwards, at Bishop’s Thorpe, the palace of the Archbishop of York.2

1 “Stewart’s Philosophical Essays.—The gift of the very accomplished, enlightened, and honourable representative for the county of Northumberland, Sir Charles Monck, Bart., when I was visiting his hospitable and most elegant mansion, Belsay Castle, Sept. 5, 1819. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 456.

2 “Archbishop of York’s Sermon at the Coronation of George IV.—Excellent! S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 572.

CHAPTER XV. A.D. 1820—1821. Story of Queen Caroline—Dr. Parr’s introduction to her, when Princess of Wales—Her travels abroad—Her reputation assailed by calumnious reports—Their effect on the public mind in England—Dr. Parr’s protest against the exclusion of her name from the Liturgy—Affair of St. Omer—The Queen’s arrival in London—Her cause espoused by the nation—Dr. Parr admitted to her presence and councils—Her answers to the addresses of the people—Her trial—and acquittal—Dr. Parr’s estimate of her character—Mr. Canning’s testimony in her favour—Her sufferings—and death—Dr. Parr’s reflections on the outrages at her funeral.

The year 1820 unfolds a dark and distressing page in English history; from which every reader, who honours his king, and loves his country, would gladly turn away, with an ardent wish that it could be blotted out, as a tale of falsehood or fiction, for ever. This is the amazing and melancholy story of Queen Caroline, wife of George IV., of whom posterity will be astonished to read in British annals that, though a sovereign princess, and the royal consort of England, she was brought to public trial, by the demand, not of the people, but of the court; and that on the charge, not of a state crime, but of a civil or moral offence, which, if committed at all, was committed under circumstances, usually regarded as exculpatory, in the courts of English judicature. More astonished still will posterity be, as they read on, to learn that even this charge, on the very first touch of examination, crumbled into dust; and proved, indeed, to be the mere fabrication of a deep and dreadful conspiracy, aiming at nothing less than to deprive an innocent female of her fair fame, and a queen of her rightful crown and dignity. But most of all astonished, and no less indignant, will future ages be, to find, in pursuing farther the mournful tale, that though her Majesty’s reputation survived the rude shock which had assailed it, and even rose triumphant from the attempt to degrade and destroy it; and that though her royal dignity was, in consequence of the imperious decree of public opinion, acknowledged; yet that all its due splendour, and almost all its just rights, were, with studied purpose, denied or withheld. Nor, without sympathetic concern and grief, largely intermingled with amazement and indignation, will men of future times—following the melancholy story to its sequel—review the hard fate of an English queen, convicted of no crime, yet forsaken by almost all of royal and noble rank in the country; and left exposed to perpetual mortification and insult, from the whole tribe of court-dependants and venal writers—treatment which so preyed upon her spirits, so shook and agitated her frame, as to lay the foundation of a painful disorder, terminating in premature death.

Early in 1814, it is well known, her late Majesty was induced, by no good advice, to leave the kingdom, with the intention of passing a few years abroad. It was some time before that period, that Dr. Parr had the honour of being first introduced to her Royal Highness, then Princess of Wales, whose reception of him he always described as most gracious and gratifying. Several times he visited her at Blackheath; once or twice he accompanied her to the theatre; and once he was in the train of her attendants at the exhibition of pictures at the Royal Academy, Somerset-house.

Her Majesty continued abroad six years; during which time, she travelled through many of the principal countries of Europe, Asia, and Africa; but fixed her residence chiefly at the palace D’Este, on the lake Como, near Milan. It was here, most of all, that she was surrounded with spies, and beset with snares; that every step of her conduct was watched; and, not only little unfavourable appearances, but even the most innocent or meritorious actions, were converted into causes of suspicion, or grounds of accusation. Tales of scandal, imputing the lowest profligacy, were framed and propagated,it was said, by hired agents; and the grossest falsehoods, from frequency of repetition, and boldness of assertion, acquired at length the credit and the confidence of truth. With these tales, every Englishman visiting Italy was sure, at almost every turn, to be met. They were perpetually rung in his ears; in many cases he had not the means, or had, perhaps, no adequate motive to inquire into their truth or falsehood; and, thus deceived himself, he returned home, full-charged with such reports, as, if well-founded, would prove the Queen of England to have been one of the vilest and most abandoned of her sex. Such reports, repeated by a thousand tongues, could not fail to produce the effect intended, by exciting a general suspicion, and even a prevailing belief, of guilty conduct, especially in the higher circles, among whom chiefly they were circulated.

On the death of the late King the royal wanderer prepared to return to England, to assume the high dignity, which now devolved upon her. The writer well remembers a conversation, which passed between Dr. Parr and some of his friends, in the library at Hatton, on the credibility of the many reports, derogatory to her honour, which were, at that moment, put into more active circulation than ever. With all his favourable prepossessions, he said, he could not help feeling the most painful apprehensions that so many reports must have their foundation, in some gross impropriety, if not criminality, of conduct. Still, however, he strenuously maintained, even in that case, that a public investigation, with a view to degradation and dethronement would be a measure, equally unwise and unconstitutional. “What!” said he, “are we going to set up the new and unheard-of principle, that private misconduct disqualifies for royal dignity?—Why, upon that principle, we should dethrone more than half the princes that ever reigned.” He loved the British monarchy far too well, he said, not to dread the effect on the public mind, of tearing down the veil which it is often prudent to draw around the private life of princes; and throwing open to the full gaze, the follies and the vices to which they, more than other persons, are ever exposed. He would admit no distinction in the case of a profligate king or queen: and when urged with the often-alleged impropriety of allowing one of blasted, or even suspected character, to preside at the head of female society in moral Britain, he insisted that the worst which could happen in such a case would be, that a queen or a princess, finding her drawing-room deserted, and herself despised, would soon seek a refuge, either in retirement at home, or concealment abroad.

Impressed with these views, and, at the same time, by no means disposed to confound the distinction between a suspicion and a proof of guilt; when the order of council, dated Feb. 12, 1820, was issued, for the exclusion of the Queen’s name from the liturgy, Dr. Parr instantly, and strongly, and publicly expressed his disapprobation of it. He considered it as a measure at once unwise, unjust, and, after a careful consideration of the statute, illegal: and his solemn protest against it, of which the following is a copy, he has left recorded in the parish Prayer Book of Hatton:—

“Numerous and weighty are the reasons which induce me deliberately and solemnly to record in the Prayer Book of my parish the particulars which follow. With deep and unfeigned sorrow, I have read a London Gazette, dated Feb. 12, 1820, ordering the exclusion of the Queen’s name from the liturgy. It is my duty as a subject and an ecclesiastic, to read what is prescribed for me, by my sovereign, as head of the Church of England. But it is not my duty to express approbation, as well as to yield obedience, when my feelings as a man, and my principles as a Christian, compel me to disapprove and to deplore. If the person who, for many years, was prayed for, as Princess of Wales, has not ceased to be the wife of the royal personage, who was Prince of Wales, most assuredly she becomes Queen when he becomes King: and Queen she must remain, till by some judicial process her conjugal relation to her legitimate sovereign be authoritatively dissolved. Whensoever, therefore, I shall pray for all the royal family, I shall include Queen Caroline, as a member of it. Though forbidden to pronounce her royal name, I shall, in the secret and sacred recesses of my soul, recommend her to the protection of the Deity. I shall pray that God may endue her with his holy spirit, enrich her with his heavenly grace, prosper her with all happiness, and bring her to his everlasting kingdom, through Jesus Christ our Lord.—Thursday, Feb. 17, 1820, Samuel Parr, LL.D. resident minister of Hatton for thirty-four years and eleven months.”

In another memorandum, on the same subject, inserted in the same prayer-book, are the following words:—

“I have long been convinced, from the statute, that the omission of the Queen’s name was illegal. By a strange oversight, the privy-council did not extend their regulation to what is called the bidding prayer. Not having received any order to omit the name of Queen Caroline in that prayer, I have introduced it, and shall continue to introduce it, before the sermon.—S. Parr.”

“Feb. 5. 1821.”

Early in the month of June following, it was with an astonishment which he shared, in common with the whole country, that Dr. Parr received intelligence of the extraordinary scene, which had passed at St. Omer. There, it is well known, her Majesty, then on her way home, was met by an offer from government of £50,000 a year for life, with an amnesty for past imputed offences, on condition of never assuming the title of queen, and never returning to England. This offer, instantly rejected with the highest indignation, was followed by a threat of instituting a legal inquiry into her conduct, on a charge of adultery; accompanied by the farther threat of regarding her first appearance on British ground, as the signal for commencing proceedings. The threats were repelled with the same cool contempt as the bribe; and without the smallest wavering in her mind, without even consulting her legal adviser, who was then at St. Omer she hastened forward to Calais, and there embarked for England.

It would be difficult to describe the great and tumultuous agitation, excited throughout the whole country, by the strange proceedings at St. Omer, followed by the arrival of the Queen herself in London; where, as if in the presence of the whole nation, she threw down the challenge to her accusers: proudly disdaining, on the one hand, their offers of a princely revenue, with a promise of impunity; and scornfully defying, on the other, their threats of exposure and punishment. Such conduct, under such circumstances, it was every where loudly asserted and reasserted, could only be accounted for on one of two suppositions—con-scious innocence, or stark madness. From that moment, the Queen was almost universally regarded as a calumniated and injured woman, coming in collision with a tremendous power; and consigned to infamy and ruin, for no fault of her own, but from the pure misfortune of standing in the way of the views and wishes of other persons. If the court and the courtiers be excepted, it may be truly said that one common and deep-felt sentiment pervaded the whole public mind, of indignation at the wrongs, and of sympathy with the sufferings of a high-spirited, but ill-fated princess, forced into a contest for her honour and her rights, against such fearful odds. Never did scorn of supposed injustice, and abhorrence of supposed cruelty, assume an air and attitude of more determined resistance; never did generous enthusiasm, in behalf of a hapless victim, burst forth in nobler efforts, than in the conduct of the English people, on this great occasion. The whole population seemed to rise, as one man, hastening to mingle in the unequal strife; hurling defiance against the ministerial oppressors, and throwing the shield of their protection round the oppressed. Thus the most powerful combination, perhaps, ever arrayed against a single individual, was defeated, by the still mightier power of public opinion; and the cause and triumph of the Queen became the cause and triumph of the nation.

From the moment that intelligence of the affair at St. Omer reached him, Dr. Parr considered it almost, if not quite, decisive of the point at issue between the royal person accused and her accu-sers. “Yes!” said he to the writer, “in that affair, I can see the clearest indications, on the one side, of treachery, scared at its own purpose, and distrustful of its own grounds; and, on the other, the calm consciousness of innocence, true to itself, fearless of inquiry, and confident of coming safely and honourably out of it.” This first impression soon gathered strength, not only from the recurrence of his former good opinion, founded on some personal knowledge of her Majesty, when Princess of Wales; but, also, from the recollection of a similar attempt, in 1806, over which she had completely triumphed; and, in no long time, the conviction, firmly fixed itself in his mind, that this was a second plot, more deeply laid than the first, concerted with the same view of abrogating her Majesty’s conjugal and regal claims, by the only possible means, that of defaming and destroying her character. Under that conviction, which the occurrences of almost every day tended to confirm, Dr. Parr instantly resolved upon the line of conduct which he thought it became him to adopt, with an utter disregard of every possible or probable consequence to himself.1

In pursuance of this resolution, soon after her Majesty’s return to England, Dr. Parr hastened to London, to offer his congratulations on her safe arrival in this country, and to tender his assurances of continued and devoted attachment to her person and dignity. He was received with all the respectful and grateful regard, due to one of his high

1 “Ille autem sui judicii, potius, quid se facere pavesset, intuebatur, quam quid illi laudaturi forent.”—Corn. Nep.

consideration, as a divine and a scholar, coming forward so promptly, and taking the part so courageously of a persecuted female, of elevated rank, indeed, but to whom was fearfully opposed all the powers of the state, and from whom stood aloof almost all that was great and noble in the land. He was from this time admitted into her Majesty’s confidence: he was consulted by her on several important occasions; and was always proud and happy to offer his best advice, on every subject connected with her honour and her interest.

It was in consequence of his recommendation, that the Rev. Robert Fellowes, then so well known to the public by his many excellent publications on the great subjects of religion and morals, and, since his accession to the fortune of the late Cursitor-Baron Maseres, by his public spirit and generosity in the cause of learning and science, was appointed to the office of domestic chaplain and private secretary to the Queen. In this latter capacity, the arduous task devolved upon him of enditing the answers to the numerous congratulatory addresses presented to the Queen, from all parts of the kingdom, and from all classes of the community, on her first arrival, in the midst of her loyal subjects; and afterwards, on the happy occasion of the compulsory abandonment of the charges against her. Though in some of these answers, it was generally considered that the topics were not very wisely chosen, and that expressions were, in a few instances, introduced, not well-accordant with the sober dignity of a royal person; yet they were most of them greatly and justly admired for their high and ardent tone of thought, for their beauty and energy of language, and for their noble spirit of liberty and philanthropy, so worthy of the enlightened sovereign of a free people. These answers have been often attributed, in part at least, to Dr. Parr: but, in a letter, now lying before the writer, Dr. Fellowes distinctly states that they were all composed by himself; and that though some were previously read to Dr. Parr, yet in no instance was a word of alteration proposed or suggested by him.

But there was one extraordinary publication—“the letter addressed by her Majesty to the King”—so much applauded by some, and censured by others, in which both Dr. Fellowes and Dr. Parr declared that they had no participation whatever. It was, indeed, shown in manuscript to her private secretary by the Queen; but it was not submitted to his revision; nor did she think proper to reveal the writer’s name to him. The letter, whoever may be its author, is powerfully written, in a strain of very bold and very bitter invective; and yet is it possible to say, that there was nothing in the wrongs and provocations of the royal person, whose name it bears, which might be fairly urged to excuse, if not to justify it?

After a residence for several months in London, occasionally, in attendance upon the Queen, towards the end of August, Dr. Parr returned to Hatton; and resumed the laborious task, in which he had been for some time engaged; and of which he thus speaks, in writing to a friend: “I am busied night and day, preparing such a catalogue of my numerous books, as may guide my executors, when I am no more: nor can any consideration easily draw me away from this business.” His attention, however, was, at the same time, almost incessantly directed towards the critical state of her Majesty’s affairs, who was then in the very midst of the fiery ordeal, through which she was made to pass. Though remaining at a distance from the extraordinary scene, his presence not being then required; yet he marked, with intense anxiety, the whole course of the strange and anomalous proceedings, in which British justice and common equity seemed to be alike disregarded.

Their very commencement in “a bill of pains and penalties” he reprobated, as having in it all the iniquity of an ex post facto law. The charges, as set forth with so much art and effort, though with so little power, in the opening speech of the attorney-general, some of which were never even attempted to be proved, seemed to him so monstrous, as to outrage all probability, to belie our common nature, and, by their own incredibility, to stab, and almost to destroy themselves. But when the evidence was actually produced, which, in order to sustain for a moment such charges, ought to have been the best and most unexceptionable, he largely participated in the general astonishment to find that it was the worst possible; in itself the most suspicious and unsatisfactory that could be; and in many of its material circumstances afterwards completely rebutted. Improbable, however, in the extreme, as the charges, and contemptible as the evidence, appeared to him; yet he was always deeply impressed with the apprehension that the mighty power of the ministerial prosecutors would ultimately prevail. But after a long and severe struggle, it is well known, the “bill of pains and penalties” was carried by so small a majority in the House of Lords, that it was thought necessary to abandon it; and then, with exultation, proportioned to the previous depression of hope, Dr. Parr shared in the high-bounding joy of the whole country, on the great occasion of a magnanimous queen, discomfiting all her enemies, and breaking triumphantly away from all the snares drawn so closely round her,—from which it seemed at one time hardly possible she could escape.

Contrasted with the wrongs and the sufferings of Queen Caroline, Dr. Parr often talked with delight of her personal merits and attractions, which he represented as extraordinary. He thought that impartial posterity would place her high in the rank of eminent women, and still higher in the rank of illustrious princesses. He described her as possessed of a good understanding, of a noble and lofty spirit, of a warm and benevolent heart; gay, lively, open, unsuspicious in her temper; pleasing, though not strikingly beautiful in her person; amiable and engaging in her manners, in which, however, ease and frankness, he owned, prevailed more than dignity. He often, with great satisfaction, referred to the fair and honourable testimony borne to her character by the late Foreign Secretary of State; and that, too, at the very moment, when the flood-gates were ready to be drawn, and the whole torrent of calumnious abuse, long accumulating, to be poured in, with overwhelming fury upon her. Nothing, indeed, could be more finely turned, or more delicately touched, than the praise which Mr. Canning bestowed upon the powers of her mind and the fascination of her manners: “such,” he said, “as would render her the grace, the life, and the ornament of any court in Europe, in which she might choose to appear.” Equally remarkable was the generous warmth, with which that distinguished orator, previous to the commencement of the investigation, declared his wish and his hope, and even his confident expectation, “that she would come out of all her trials and difficulties with a pure conscience and unsullied fame.” Public declarations so favourable to the Queen, and, as uttered by a leading member of administration, so important to her interests, could not fail of attracting the admiring attention of Dr. Parr; and almost unbounded was his applause, when they were followed by Mr. Canning’s resignation of office. That minister chose rather to retire from his share in the administration of government, than to act inconsistently with his honest convictions, or to violate the pledge he had given in the following words: “So help me God! I will never place myself in the situation of an accuser towards this illustrious individual.” Previous to his resignation, he also declared, “that if he had stood in any other situation than that which he occupied, he should have been ready to fly to her aid; and then he should have been all ardour and affection, if he might use the expression, in her service.”1

It is stated in some published “Recollections” of one of his friends and pupils, that “when hard pressed upon the subject, Dr. Parr acknowledged that the late Queen had, in a few instances, justly incurred the imputation of levity.” To the present writer, he has often, without the slightest hesitation, made the same admission: but it should be understood, that he meant no more than such instances of levity, as transgress the little rules of reserve and propriety, which are thought in this country, and justly thought, to become female decorum, or to befit princely dignity; and by no means such as offend against moral purity. So indeed the Recollector himself rightly puts it. “If Dr. Parr admitted,” says he, “that the Queen, in some few instances, turned aside from the sober austerities and the strict decorums of an English matron, it was only in lesser matters; and even from these she might,” he insisted, “have been recalled by mild remonstrance.”—“But this lady,” said Dr. Parr, “was beset with spies, and surrounded by enemies, whose malignant penetration virtue itself could not escape.”2

Standing conspicuously forward to maintain the cause of an oppressed individual against the designs of her formidable foes, consisting of his Majesty’s ministers, their numerous dependants, and their faithful allies, the clergy, Dr. Parr became, as

1 Dodsley’s Annual Register, 1820, p. 150, &c.

2 New Monthly Mag. Dec. 1826.

might have been expected, the object of much public animadversion. But in the proud consciousness of his own upright intentions, he suffered the censorious remarks of others to pass unheeded. “I set at defiance,” said he, writing to a friend, “the invectives of party-scribblers, and the taunts of courtiers, and the frowns of nobles and princes.” It was always with evident feelings of self-gratulation, that he spoke of the independence which he had secured for himself, by never courting, for their favour, the great, and never cringing, for their patronage, to the men in power. Thus he gained, as he often remarked, “the advantage of entire freedom from restraint, in adopting those views of a momentous public question, which best approve themselves to his own honest conviction.”—“I feel the comfort of that now,” said he. In one of the public journals, distinguished by the frequency and the severity of its attacks upon him, some offensive and injurious observations had been inserted, during his late residence in London, which concluded, insolently enough, with advising him “to go back to his parishioners, and to resume his official duties, in that church, of which he might be, but was not, the ornament.” When some of his friends represented that these observations called for a reply from him, he spurned indignantly at the thought, exclaiming, “Let the asses bray!” and when the same point was a second time urged upon him, by some other of his friends, he still persisted in his determination. On this last occasion, he observed that he knew who the writer was; upon whom he good-humouredly bestowed some praise; and he even acknowledged that the article in question was well written. Then emphatically repeating the words—“The church, of which he might be, but was not, the ornament”—he resumed, with a complacent smile, the pipe, which he had just laid down.

When the vast power of a government, like that of England, ruling by influence, is considered; and when, also, the difficulty is fairly estimated, of obliterating unfavourable impressions of another, which strong suspicion of guilty conduct has once fixed in the mind, even though the suspicion prove to be unfounded; it will excite no great surprise to find that, of all the nobility and the higher order of gentry, convinced of her Majesty’s innocence, there were few who had the firmness of courage, and the independence of spirit, to appear amongst her friends and adherents. But if almost all who were elevated in rank or station shrunk away from the presence of an acknowledged, though not a crowned, queen: some, however, there were, who remained faithfully attached to her person and her interests even to the last. Among these, none have established for themselves a stronger claim to the grateful and respectful regards of their contemporaries, or to the honourable and reverential remembrance of posterity, than Lady Ann Hamilton and Lord and Lady Hood. To them will indisputably belong a share of the same high and hallowed plaudits, which, for ages to come, will follow the names of Bishop Juxton and the Abbé Edgeworth; who, regardless of hazard or obloquy to themselves, consoled the sorrows of two fallen princes; and with firm and affectionate fidelity accompanied, the one Charles I., and the other Louis XVI., to the scaffold. The loyal and generous devotion of the noble lord, and of the two noble ladies, just named, to their royal mistress, sinking down under the weight of accumulated sufferings, was, it may easily be believed, the object of admiration, and the theme of frequent and fervent praise, to Dr. Parr; and he has recorded the sense he entertained of their merits and their services, in the following clauses of his Last Will:—“I bequeath a ring to the Right Honourable Lady Ann Hamilton, whose dignified manners, whose discriminating judgment, and whose heroic fidelity in the cause of her majesty, Queen Caroline, are worthy of her Ladyship’s elevated rank, and of her descent from the ancient and most noble family, of which she bears the name.”—“I bequeath rings to the Right Honourable Lord and Lady Hood, as a mark of my respect, generally, for their virtues in private life, as well known in my neighbourhood; and, particularly, for their fidelity and kindness in the cause of their most injured Queen.”

Extreme distress in the present world is never very lasting; and all excruciating pains, whether of body or mind, soon make an end of themselves or of the sufferer. The acquittal of the Queen, though it dispersed the clouds of suspicion and calumny which had gathered over her fair fame, was yet followed with nearly all the consequences to herself, which would have attended degradation. “I have, indeed, the empty name,” she truly said, “but I have none of the privileges or the dignities of a queen.” Instead of befitting honour, studied insult was her portion. Even after her acquittal, she was still “scandal’s choicest mark;” and, in hostility to her, the flatterers of power, and the hunters after preferment, found the greatest advantages to themselves. Added to other mortifications, she seems to have keenly felt her exclusion even from the sight of the splendid pageantry of the coronation, in which she ought to have been a principal figure; and it was within less than a fortnight after that time that she was seized with the fatal distemper, which hurried her to the grave.

Her death was peaceful and pious. There was evidently a deep sense of the injuries she had suffered; but no trace of that guilt, with which she was charged; and which, if it existed, must have been felt; and if felt, could not well have been wholly concealed. No! there was all the peace of a good conscience, and serene hope leaning on divine favour, and looking to heavenly felicity. Till the last chill touch of death, hers was a heart glowing with all the best and the kindliest feelings of our nature; affection to her friends, gratitude to “her faithful English,” and generous forbearance towards her enemies. “They have destroyed me,” were almost her last expiring words, “but I forgive them.” On several most trying and difficult occasions, she exhibited, all must allow, the high spirit and dignity of conscious integrity and virtue. But if ever she was magnanimous in life; in death she was heroic. Rarely has dying behav-iour appeared clothed with higher degrees of religious and moral grandeur than hers. It gives a direct contradiction to the calumnious reports raised and propagated against her. The wretch, who lived, as she is said to have lived, could never die as she died.1

The writer will not trust himself to describe the horrible outrages, which attended the last mournful ceremony of conveying her remains from England, according to her own desire, for interment near those of her family at Brunswick. They are besides too deeply impressed on the remembrance of every reader, to need repetition here. But the feelings on the sad occasion, high-beating in every bosom, not closed up by party prejudice against all sense of common decency and humanity, were forcibly expressed by Dr. Parr, in the following language, which, in communication with his friend, Dr. Wade, burst from his torn and indignant spirit:—

“Even if this unfortunate and injured Queen had violated her duty; the Scriptures furnish us with an instance of the compassion and respect, due to royal persons, upon whom the grave has closed. For when Jehu was on the point of gratifying his vengeance against the wife of Ahab, and had commanded her to be thrown down from the wall, he yet remembered her illustrious birth, and exclaimed, “Go, see now what is become of this unhappy woman, and bury her—for she is a king’s daughter.”—But here, when, on the contrary, the innocence of the accused person has

1 See the New Annual Register, 1821, p. 304, &c.

been established after two severe investigations; and once, too, be it observed, in the judgment of those, who have notoriously taken an active part with her persecutors;—when the feelings of an enlightened and generous people have been strongly excited in her favour;—when her reiterated and aggravated sufferings have procured for her a lively. sentiment of pity;—when her patience and magnanimity, under the sharpest trials, had made her an object of universal admiration;—under these circumstances, surely the hearts even of her fiercest adversaries might have been melted to some degree of the same pity, if not raised to some pitch of the same admiration, by her recent death, and the greatness of spirit with which she met it.”

CHAPTER XVI. A.D. 1816—1820. Dr. Parr’s friendly intercourse with Dr. Rees—and Dr. Lindsay—His occasional attendance on divine service in dissenting chapels—His opinion of the Rev. Robert Hall—His letters to the Rev. Charles Berry—Biographical notice of the Rev. Peter Emans—Dr. Parr’s kind feelings towards those of different sects—His encomium on Dr. Lindsay—His letter to Dr. Rees.

Among the divines, not of his own church, with whom Dr. Parr in his later years associated and occasionally corresponded, was the late Rev. Abraham Rees, D.D. F.R.S., minister of the dissenting chapel in Jewin-street, London. He is known to the public as the author of four volumes of excellent sermons; and, still more, as the editor of the new “London Cyclopedia.” For several years he usually passed five or six weeks, in the summer, at Leamington near Warwick, which, from an insignificant village, has lately risen to the consequence of one of the largest and most fashionable watering-places in the kingdom; and from his dignified person, his cheerful temper, his easy and obliging manners, and his entertaining and instructive conversation, he was always the centre of attraction in every company in which he appeared.

But the circumstance which rendered these annual visits peculiarly agreeable to him, was the opportunity they afforded of enjoying much pleasing intercourse with Dr. Parr, who, on his part, was no less delighted with the conversation of Dr. Rees. Few days passed on which they did not meet, either at Hatton or Leamington, or at the house of some common friend; and, on these occasions, the writer had frequently the pleasure of being one of the company. It was highly gratifying to witness the sincere esteem and affection, which these two divines, though of different churches, felt and expressed for each other; and the unreserved freedom with which they conversed on all subjects, from the gay and the amusing to the serious and important. In the course of their long conferences, they ranged together, it might almost be said, through the whole circle of the sciences, not wholly excluding the arts, comprehended within the vast compass of that laborious work which one of them has presented to the world. Their sentiments on all the great questions of theology, politics, and literature, generally harmonised; and where they differed, it is hardly necessary to say, they differed without the smallest diminution of mutual respect.

A vehement debate, in which they once engaged, occurs at this moment to the writer’s recollection. He had entertained at dinner, Dr. Parr, Dr. Rees, Dr. Lindsay, the Reverends Timothy and David Davis, and a large party of friends, at Leam; and, in the course of much interesting and animated conversation, some theological questions were started; and, amongst others, the Arian notion of the person of Christ, to which Dr. Rees was zealously attached; and which, with a sort of public challenge, he stood forth to defend. Somewhat to the surprise of every one, Dr. Parr accepted the challenge; and maintained, in opposition to him, the unitarian doctrine, perspicuously stating, and forcibly urging, the principal arguments on this side of the long-disputed question. The debate was ably sustained; and each of the disputants put forth all his strength in the friendly contest. It is no discredit to Dr. Rees to say that, in the faculty of reasoning, and still more in the powers of eloquence, he was inferior to his great opponent, who, on closing the debate, took care to set himself right with the company, by declaring that, though he had said what might be fairly said in favour of unitarianism, yet he was not himself an unitarian. But if his opinions did not exactly accord with the doctrine of that sect, it will appear, however, in a subsequent page, that they did not widely differ from it.

The late Dr. James Lindsay, whose name has just been mentioned, was an extraordinary man; surpassed by few in all the best and noblest qualities, which constitute intellectual and moral greatness. For many years, he was the pastor of the Scots’ church, in Monkwell-street, London; and was the immediate successor of the celebrated Dr. Fordyce. It was in the summer of 1814 that he accompanied Dr. Rees in his visit to Leamington; and the opportunity was gladly embraced by Dr. Parr of cultivating a more intimate acquaintance with one, whom he had long known, and had as long admired and loved. Their intercourse was frequent, and mutually agreeable. Dr. Lindsay possessed great powers of conversation; and it was plea-sant to observe that Dr. Parr was sometimes put to the full and vigorous exertion of his own powers, in order to maintain his accustomed superiority.

During the period of his stay at Leamington, Dr. Lindsay once conducted the morning-service of the High-street chapel, Warwick, on which occasion Dr. Parr had declared his intention of being present; nor did he think it any degradation to appear in the full dress of a clergyman, though within walls not consecrated by episcopalian authority. The sermon, delivered by Dr. Lindsay, was an interesting and instructive discourse, since published, “On the character of the beloved disciple;” and both in it, and in the prayers which were put up, some expressions were introduced, respectful to the great divine then present, and to the church of which he was a minister. At the close of it, Dr. Parr declared that he had seldom attended any religious service with a higher degree of satisfaction; and, alluding particularly to the discourse, he said to a friend, on leaving the chapel, “this is true Christianity.”

It is well known that, through life, he was in the habit of going occasionally to places of worship protected,—as he used to say, “most wisely and most justly protected”—though not established, by state authority. His feelings on this subject were exactly those expressed in the following passage from the pen of a liberal divine, some time ago deceased:1—“I know not how it is, but I confess, though a clergyman of the establishment, I see no evil in joining, for public worship, or social inter-

1 Simpson’s Plea for Religion.

course, with any of the denominations of Christians. I hear what passes with candour; join, where I approve; and reject whatever appears contrary to Scripture, and the plain dictates of sound reason and common sense. I am well aware this comes not up to the full standard of orthodoxy. But if such conduct constitutes a bad churchman, I am not anxious to be accounted a good one.” In the same spirit, Dr. Parr thus writes to a friend:—“You are aware of those jealousies and prejudices which churchmen feel upon any connexion whatever with persons who are not of the national church. I feel them not; I disapprove of them speculatively; I resist them practically. But many of my clerical brethren are out of humour with me for so doing.”

So in-wrought were these sentiments into the mind of Dr. Parr, that no ridicule or reproach could produce upon them the least effect. Some years ago, after attending morning-service at one of the chapels in Manchester, he happened to dine in company with a zealous Church-of-England man, who immediately began to question him tauntingly on the subject. “Well! Dr. Parr,” said he, “where have you been this morning?”—“To Cross-street chapel,” was the answer. “What! to a dissenting chapel!” exclaimed he scornfully;—“how strange!” Then, after a moment’s pause, resuming in the same tone—“And pray, Dr. Parr,” said he, “where will you go next?”—“Sir, do you ask,” replied Dr. Parr, speaking slowly and solemnly, “where I shall go next?—Why, sir, if I remember, and practically regard what I have heard this morning, the place I shall go to last—if not next—is—heaven!”1

There were few of the more distinguished dissenting divines, of whom Dr. Parr had not been, at one time or other, a hearer; and to the respective merits of each he was always eager to render the meed of his sincere and generous praise. He has several times heard the celebrated Mr. Hall preach; and, on one of these occasions, being asked by a friend whether he had been pleased—“Pleased,” replied he, “Sir, I have been enraptured!”—To another friend, who had observed, that of all the eminent preachers among the various classes of dissenters, Mr. Hall might claim the first place:—“Yes, sir,” said Dr. Parr, “and you might have added, within the pale of the church too.”

Of one of the most admired of Mr. Hall’s published discourses, that “on Modern Infidelity,” Dr. Parr thus speaks:—“In common with all men of letters, I read with exquisite delight Mr. Hall’s sermon, lately published. As compositions, his former works are replete with excellence; but this last approaches to perfection, μετα του σεμνου την χάριν εχει.” Mr. Hall himself, Dr. Parr thus highly panegyrises:—“I will give my general opinion of him,” says he, “in words which were employed to describe a prelate, whose writings are,

1 Dr. Parr was once present in a dissenting chapel, seated near the pulpit, when the officiating minister was one of inferior merit, which gave occasion to the following jeu-d’esprit:—

A paradox of paradoxes the greatest by far. Parr below the preacher, and yet the preacher below par. I believe, familiar to him; and whom he strongly resembles, not, perhaps, in variety of learning, but in fertility of imagination, in vigour of thinking, in rectitude of intention, and holiness of life. Yes, Mr. Hall, like Bishop Taylor, has the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the acuteness of a schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, and the piety of a saint.”1 To this testimony he has added another, in the following clause of his Last Will:—“I bequeath a mourning ring to the Rev. Robert Hall, as a mark of my reverence for his exemplary virtues, and of my admiration of his sublime and hallowed eloquence.”

Among the dissenting clergy, whom Dr. Parr received into the number of his personal friends, was the Rev. Charles Berry, of Leicester; of whom he often spoke in high terms, as uniting strong powers of mind with a good share of solid and useful learning, and a keen sense of moral purity and propriety with the affections of a benevolent heart, and the attractions of unassuming and amiable temper and manners. In two long letters, with which the writer has been obligingly furnished, the plan of a classical education is traced, by Dr. Parr, in bold outline, intended for the use of Mr. Berry, in which, among other expressions of friendly regard, the following occur:—“Remembering that you, my dear sir, are endowed with good sense, and with more than usual capacity for good taste, I shall give you some advice upon the questions you proposed to me, about the education of your children. I shall endeavour to

1 Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 63.

put you and your boys, in a strait path, and upon strong grounds; and you will consider this code of instruction as a decisive mark of my friendship for you.” Then, having prescribed the method, in which he thought the Greek and Latin might best be studied, in order to form the complete and accomplished scholar, he thus humorously proceeds: “I can forgive your heresy, and your schism; but I think you ought to be tormented in Tartarus, seven years, if you do not follow my advice, implicitly, implicitly, implicitly. I am looking to use, not to display: and I speak with the authority, which experience justifies me in assuming.”—Afterwards, entering on another part of his subject, he thus writes:—“I have only to speak on one more subject; and I speak feelingly. If you wish your boys to be good theologians, make them good biblical grammarians:” and having given minute directions as to the best means of accomplishing that object, he adds, “when once they are thus become good grammarians, they may take their choice for heterodoxy or orthodoxy; though, probably, they will care little for either.”—Drawing the second of his two letters to a close, thus he expresses himself:—“As I seldom see you, I have written very fully: and as I really esteem you, I have written, also, very earnestly. I beg you will send your answer by Dr. Hill, who is coming to my birth-day feast, on the 11th of January. I wish you lived near me. Give my compliments and best wishes to your wife; and to your children, I send my services and affectionate blessing.—I am, dear Sir, truly your well-wisher, &c.—S. Parr, Dec. 21, 1819.”

There was another dissenting divine, who resided in his own neighbourhood, long since deceased, for whom Dr. Parr professed high regard, and with whom he always gladly associated. He had, like Dr. Parr, an extensive knowledge of books; and, like him, too, possessed a large and well-chosen library; which he purchased with the careful savings of a very scanty income;1 and in which he found the chief occupation and enjoyment of his life. It happened, in his later years, that pecuniary difficulties compelled him to think of selling, at least, some considerable portion of his books; when Dr. Parr, being informed of these difficulties, summoned the present writer to a conference, in order to devise, if possible, the means of relief. He began with protesting, as a point which he had previously and decidedly fixed, that not a single volume of that library should, with his consent, be sold. He then desired to know what sum would meet the necessity of the case; and, being told about 200l., after the pause of a moment, he recommended a subscription; declaring, that what could not be raised of that sum elsewhere, should be advanced by himself, and by some of his own friends, to whom he would immediately apply. “Never,” said he, speaking with ardour, “shall our friend have to mourn the loss of his books. No, No! he shall not be deprived, in his old age,

1 “Bromley’s Remarks on the Grand Tour of France and Italy.—This book was once in the possession of the Rev. Mr. Emans, a studious dissenting minister of Coventry; who, with a small income, contrived to buy many good books. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr: p. 702.

of the solace, which they alone can afford.”—Of this generous offer, however, it was not found necessary to take advantage; as the money was obtained by loan, from other quarters.

The person here referred to, was the Rev. Peter Emans, of Coventry; and as the much-respected friend of Dr. Parr, and his own, the writer hopes to be pardoned, if he indulge, for a moment, in the recollection of a very amiable and estimable man. A vigorous understanding, assiduously cultivated; a judgment truly, almost severely correct; learning, various, extensive, and accurate; piety, rational, unostentatious, and deep-felt; benevolence, which breathed its fervid spirit in warm affection to his friends, in feeling compassion to the distressed, in generous regards to all his fellow-creatures around him, and even in humane consideration for the sensitive creatures below him:—these were the predominating qualities, accompanied with the exactest attention to the little proprieties and kind offices of social life, and recommended by the charms of gay, cheerful, even playful temper, and of obliging unassuming manners, which combined to form in him a character of no common excellence and dignity. As a Christian, his faith was the effect of sincere conviction, the fruit of long, learned, and anxious investigation; and whilst his views of Christian doctrine were different, in many important respects, from those of the prevailing creed; yet he was never forward to question the opinions, or to oppose the prejudices of others. As a preacher, his sermons were well arranged and well digested, usually directed to the great objects of practical religion; always judicious and instructive; somewhat deficient in animation and pathos; but distinguished by seriousness of thought, by justness and strength of reasoning; by great purity and perspicuity, and some vigour of style. He published nothing with his name; but he was a frequent writer in the Monthly Review, in the earlier and better days of that first and best of all the early critical journals.

In the younger part of life, Mr. Emans was known and received, with honourable distinction, in a wide circle, in which were some men of the higher orders in society, and some of the greatest eminence in literature. But during his later years, straitened circumstances, and an obscure situation, though unattended with the slightest querulousness of temper, or with the smallest degradation of exterior appearance or manner, threw a veil over the many excellencies of his character, and prevented some from discerning, and others from duly honouring them. He was born in London; and his education, which was begun at St. Paul’s school, was completed at Mile End academy. After various settlements at Dorking, Ipswich, Nottingham, and some other places, he finally fixed himself at Coventry. Through his long life, he was never once laid on the bed of sickness; till, on a visit to a friend at Dudley, he was suddenly seized with a painful disorder; and, within a few days, expired, June 28, 1810, in the seventy-fourth year of his age, not leaving one surviving relative, near or distant, to lament his loss; but followed to the grave by the deep regrets of all who had the happiness to know him. ϕευ ω αγαθη χαι πιστη ψυχη, οιχη δε απολιπων ημας.1

Dr. Parr was one of those who considered dissent as a good rather than an evil; and who acknowledged, in the various classes of dissenters, instead of enemies, useful auxiliaries to the church. He often said, that the great cause of religion derived benefit from diversity of opinions, and opposition of views and interests in its professors; because, thus, attention is awakened, inquiry stimulated, and discussion promoted: of all which the general result must be favourable to truth and virtue. He thought that the church owed much obligation to dissenting divines, for their many able defences of the great common principles of Christianity; and that its thanks were even due for writings, which objected to what appeared to them erroneous or defective, in the national system of doctrine or discipline; because well-founded objection is sure, at last, to produce conviction, and conviction amendment and improvement. He felt an utter contempt for such little-minded men; great, though they might be, in other respects, as those, of whom Bishop Watson mentions one1—an eminent divine, too, in the church—who, on accidentally opening a book, written by a dissenter, immediately closed it, declaring that “he never read dissenting divinity.”3 Two or three times

1 Xenophon.

2 See the admirable preface to Bishop Watson’s Collection of Theological Tracts, p. xix.

3 It should seem that some Church of-England worthies

Dr. Parr has publicly censured, in Bishop Halifax, of whom, however, he thought highly, “the Warburtonian spirit,” which induced him contemptuously to call the author of the “Credibility of the Gospel History,” “the laborious Dr. Lardner.”1—“To my weak understanding, and grovelling spirit,” says he, “it does not seem the best method for supporting the general interests of literature and religion, that one scholar should speak thus of another; not upon a doubtful or unimportant subject of taste or criticism, but upon the merits of a work, intended like that of Lardner, to uphold the common cause of Christianity.”2

Impressed with these views, so far from wishing ill to dissenting societies, Dr. Parr always rejoiced to hear of their prosperity; and was even willing to assist in promoting it. “If dissent, and with it the spirit of generous rivalry, should ever be annihilated,” he was accustomed to say, “so much the worse for our church: for, in that case, its clergy and its members, amisso cui æmulari consueverant in segnitiam torporemque resoluti essent.” The wants of indigent ministers of other denominations, if

carry their proscription of dissenting writings beyond the science of theology. The writer once heard Dr. Rees tell, to the great amusement of Dr. Parr, a story of an Oxford divine, who had ordered the New Cyclopedia, at its first appearance, to be sent to him regularly; but who, after receiving ten or twelve numbers, made the woful discovery that the editor was not of the church; when, instantly he returned to his bookseller, to be disposed of as he could, all the numbers already purchased, with orders to send no more!

1 Preface to Warburtonian Tracts, p. 109.

2 Reply to Combe, p. 29.

properly made known to him, he was as ready to relieve as those of his own church; and his contribution towards the building or repairing of dissenting chapels was seldom solicited in vain. He used to say, “we of the church are more bound, from our situation, to aid in supporting the institutions of other sects, than they are to aid in supporting ours. The state takes care of us: and we ought to take a little good care of them.” When, a few years ago, some improvements and embellishments were proposed in the High-street chapel, Warwick, Dr. Parr gave five guineas towards the expense; to which many other members of the established church, after his example, liberally contributed. On that occasion he said to the writer, “your people ought to give more attention to the appearance of your places of worship; such places ought not only to be decent, but handsome: divine service loses something of its proper dignity, when performed in mean or unsuitable edifices.” He hardly ever visited any considerable town or village, in his occasional journeys, without inquiring into the state of the dissenting congregations and the character of their ministers; and when he received favourable reports, it was always with evident satisfaction that he communicated them to the present writer, at their first meeting after his return.

He was much gratified by an invitation, which he received and accepted, to dine with a number of dissenting ministers, at the library founded by the Rev. Dr. Williams in Red-Cross-street, London; and spoke afterwards with great pleasure of the large collection of books with which it is furnished, and the numerous portraits of distinguished divines by which it is adorned. His concern for the honour and the happiness of the dissenting clergy led him to remark, with regret, the restraint, under which they are too often held by their congregations. Though fettered by their forms in other respects, yet, in that respect, he said, the ministers in the church enjoyed more freedom than those out of it: and he concurred in the observation of a friend that, among the non-conformists in England, and the Presbyterians in Scotland, “it was not the learned who teach the people what to believe; but the people who prescribe to the learned what they are to teach.” He sometimes expressed great solicitude about the proper education of young candidates for the dissenting ministerial office; and never ceased to deplore deeply their exclusion from the two universities; a measure which he always reprobated, as no less unwise in the state, than unjust to them. Speaking of our academical institutions, he lamented that they were formed on so small a scale, and dependent on such scanty funds; and he asked why York academy was not converted into a large and noble college, which might invite numbers, and obtain, as in that case he doubted not it would, a considerable share of public support? With what joy, if he had lived a few months longer, would he have hailed the wise, liberal, and magnificent project of the London University!

Once being present at the high bailiff’s annual dinner in Birmingham, it was mentioned to him that when the toast “To the health of the clergy” was sometimes followed by another, “To that of the dissenting ministers of the town,” many churchmen, jealous of what they conceived the dignity of the church, hesitated or refused to receive it. As soon, therefore, as the latter toast had been given, and duly honoured, Dr. Parr rose to address the company. He began with returning thanks for the compliment paid, in the first instance, to the church of which he was a member; and then went on to state, as the strong and settled conviction of his mind, derived not from desultory reading, but from long and laborious study, that the principles of the English church were those of toleration, carried to their utmost extent: and that there was a time—“though we have seen,” said he, “a long and dreary interval—when archbishops and bishops, the highest dignitaries and the brightest luminaries of the church, thought themselves honoured, in cultivating the acquaintance and the friendship of the heads of the dissenting churches.” Reasoning thus from the writings and the conduct of the greatest and best men, in the purest and best times of the church, he insisted that its true principles were those of the most perfect liberality towards all, who conscientiously dissent from it: and he concluded in nearly the following words—“In these principles, I thank God, I have been brought up; in the maintenance of these principles, I have lived; and in the avowal of these principles, I hope I shall die.” He then walked round the room; shook hands with many of the dissenting clergy then present; and, as it was growing late, retired.

The just and the generous principles, not of bare tolerance, but of esteem and affection towards the sincere and the worthy of all sects, which Dr. Parr hoped to maintain till death, it may almost be said, he avowed and maintained even after it. In his “Last Will,” he has recorded his assurances of kind and respectful regards to more than thirty individuals, not of his own church; and among them are the names of the following divines—Dr. Rees, Dr. Lindsay, Mr. Belsham, Mr. Hall, Mr. Cogan, Mr. Shepherd, and Mr. Corrie. To all these he has bequeathed mourning rings, as tokens of friendship; and—will the reader pardon the seeming or the real vanity of the writer in adding of himself—that he also was honoured with the same mark of friendly regard, accompanied, too, with expressions, gratifying, he confesses, in the highest degree, to his feelings—“Hoc juvat, et melli est, non mentiar!”1

Dr. Lindsay, whose name is thus enrolled among the friends of Dr. Parr, died four years before him. In an assembly of divines of the three denominations of dissenters, convened at the library in Red-Cross-street, for the purpose of considering Mr. Brougham’s proposed plan of national education, Dr. Lindsay had delivered his sentiments on that important subject, and had just resumed his seat—when, falling suddenly into the arms of those

1 Horace.

around him, he expired, Feb. 14, 1821, in the sixty-fourth year of his age.

Soon after this lamented event—speaking to the writer, in a tone of deep-felt grief—“Ah!” said Dr. Parr, “our friend Lindsay is gone!”—“Oh! he was a noble creature!—We shall long remember him—long mourn his loss.” On a subsequent occasion, he expressed his opinion nearly in the terms, and quite to the effect, that follows:—“He had fine talents: he had a good store of ancient learning; and of modern literature his knowledge was various, extended, and well digested.—Then, as to his moral qualities, there, we can scarcely say too much—he was pure in heart; social in temper; benevolent in spirit; most upright in conduct. Some would say there was a sternness about his integrity; and a vehemence, almost passionate, in urging the right, and opposing the wrong, as it appeared to him, in sentiment or action. But, in reality, there was all the sweetness, as well as all the fairness, of candour. In debate, if he was sometimes warm, he was never overbearing: if there was pressing earnestness, there was no discourtesy in his manner. As a patriot and a philanthropist, the love of his country and of his kind was in him a glowing passion, as well as a steady principle. As a Christian and a preacher, religion was in him a subject of ardent feeling, as well as of honest profession; and, though destitute of the graces of elocution, yet he possessed, in no inferior degree, all the eloquence, which sincere conviction, vivid conceptions, strong emotions, and great command of language can supply.”

Adverting to his “Discourses,” of which a volume had been recently published, Dr. Parr affirmed that “in all the first and best qualities of sermons, there were few in the English language that could be placed above them.” For clear arrangement, for cogent reasoning, for just and striking observation, for purity and energy of moral sentiment, for fervour of devotional and benevolent feeling, and for all the charms of a style, chaste, terse, flowing and elegant, sometimes tenderly pathetic, and sometimes rising towards the impressively solemn and sublime—these sermons, he said, almost touch the point of perfection. In his own copy they are characterized as “eloquent and philosophical;” and in the same copy is inserted the following inscription:—“Presented to Dr. Parr in testimony of profound respect for distinguished talents, uniformly employed under the guidance of an upright mind, and the impulses of a kind and benevolent heart, in promoting the great cause of truth and freedom—from the author.”1

During his occasional visits at Manchester, Dr. Parr was always delighted to renew his friendly intercourse with the late Rev. W. Hawkes, for more than thirty years minister of the chapel in Morely-street, erected with a particular view to the benefit of his services, by a number of respectable persons, who had long known, and who greatly appreciated his talents as a preacher, and his merits as a man. Though he was one of those men of superior claims, but diffident of themselves,

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 68.

who shrink from the gaze of public observation; yet he could not conceal the many excellencies of his character from the notice and admiration of an extended circle of friends and acquaintances. Among these was Dr. Parr; who often spoke in terms of high commendation of the great and good qualities of his understanding and his heart. Perhaps the tie of union was closer drawn between them by the circumstance that both were accustomed to regard, with comparative indifference, the points of doctrine about which Christians differ: and to reflect in their own minds, and to insist in their preaching, far more on the great points, in which they are all agreed. In the Bibl. Parr,1 annexed to the title “Hawkes’ Sermons, 2 vols.” is added this note:—“A man of deep reflection: and a very perspicuous and correct writer.—S. P.”

It was [about the year 1820, that Dr. Rees discontinued his annual visits to Leamington; a circumstance which seems to have given occasion to the following letter, or, at least, to some of the expressions contained in it. The reader will be struck with that part, in which Dr. Parr acknowledges the pleasure and the benefit, which both himself and his parishioners had derived, from the use of Dr. Rees’s published sermons, in his own church-services at Hatton.

“Dear and excellent Dr. Rees,—The sympathies of friendship are rather invigorated, than enfeebled in my mind, by old age. I shall always reflect with pleasure and with pride, that I had

1 P. 64.

the honour of ranking such an enlightened man as Dr. Rees among my friends. I received your letter, with more than usual interest; for it recalled to me many scenes of rational delight, which are to return no more. We have lost Dr. Lindsay; but the remembrance of his talents, attainments, upright principles, and generous spirit, will glow in your bosom, and my own, till we sink into the grave. Dr. Rees, I am sure that no personal partialities have influenced my judgment, in my estimation of the sermons which you gave to Mrs. Parr. I have preached more than half of them. They guide me, and they animate me, as a preacher. They satisfy me as a critic. They strongly resemble the sermons of Jortin; and they impress me with no painful feeling of inferiority, when they have been interrupted by his discourses, and those of Clarke, Bishop Pearce, and Sherlock. I wish you were an eye-witness of the ardour which they inspire, when I deliver them from the pulpit. Joyfully and thankfully shall I receive the two additional volumes; and you may be assured that I shall unreservedly tell you my opinion of their merits.—Why do you abandon your purpose of going to Leamington; where the baths and the waters, as you know experimentally, are favourable to your health? At our advanced time of life, procrastination is very dangerous. Come to your old apartment at Copp’s, Do not forget how much your lively conversation, your good manners, your good sense, and your good nature cheered young and old, male and female, churchmen and non-cons, when you were at the head of the table.—I suppose you will not be a gazer at the coronation. Have you seen Glover’s answer to our famous polemic, Bishop Marsh? Pray read it. Upon public affairs, you and I have the same fears, and the same indignation.—With great sincerity I subscribe myself your friend and respectful obedient servant,

“S. Parr.”

CHAPTER XVII. A.D. 1820—1824. Death of Bishop Bennet—Character of him by Dr. Parr—Death of Mr. Bartlam—Anecdote of him—Death of Mr. R. P. Knight—Notice of Dr. Symmons—His “Life of Milton”—Dr. Parr’s acquaintance with Mr. Hollis—Vindication of Sir Walter Raleigh from the charge of infidelity—Notice of General Cockburn—Mr. U. Price—Sir J. Aubrey—Professor Bekker—Mr. Hermann—Dr. Griffiths—Mr. Nichols—Dr. Parr’s letter on the subject of King Richard’s well.

Dr. Parr had now entered into his seventy-fourth year; and it could be no surprise to him to see the circle of his earlier friendships fast contracting, and drawing almost to a point. In the summer of 1820, his feelings were severely wounded by the death of one of the oldest and most beloved of all his friends, Dr. Bennet, the senior bishop of Ireland. He was an accomplished scholar, an enlightened divine, and an amiable and virtuous man. He was much devoted to the study of British antiquities; and was particularly distinguished for his knowledge of Roman roads. Though he published nothing himself, he communicated much valuable information to Mr. Nichols, the historian of Leicestershire; and to Mr. Polwhele, the historian of Cornwall. By the interest of Lord Westmoreland, who had been his pupil at Cambridge, he was promoted, in 1790, to the bishopric of Cork; and was thence translated to the rich see of Cloyne. In 1791, he was married to Frances, daughter of the Rev. Wm. Mapletoft; but he had no children.

Dr. Bennet, as the reader knows, was Dr. Parr’s schoolfellow at Harrow, and his fellow-collegian at Cambridge; and the following testimony of mutual regard, written many years afterwards, will interest and amuse. It is inscribed on the first leaf of “Kenna’s Political Essays on the Affairs of Ireland,” in the hand-writing of Dr. Bennet. “This book is presented, with every good wish, to Samuel Parr, curate of Hatton, by Wm. Bennet, bishop of Cloyne, January 1, 1795, as a token of long and uninterrupted friendship;” and to this is added what follows—“A witty author has observed, that bishops and curates are now seldom seen together, except in the prayer for the clergy.—S. P.”1

But the reader must not longer be detained from the pleasure, with which he will contemplate the splendid portrait, drawn and coloured by the hand of fond and affectionate friendship, as presented to his view in the following passage:—

“There is one man, whom I cannot remember, without feeling that all my inclination to commend, and all my talents for commendation, are disproportioned to his merits. From habits, not only of close intimacy, but of early and uninterrupted friendship, I can say there is scarcely one Greek and Roman author of eminence, in verse or prose, whose writings are not familiar to him. He is equally successful in combating the difficulties of

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 407.

the most obscure, and catching at a glance the beauties of the most elegant. Though I could mention two or three persons, who have made a greater proficiency than my friend in philological learning; yet, after surveying all the intellectual endowments of all my literary acquaintance, I cannot name the man, whose taste seems to me more correct and more pure, or whose judgment upon any composition in Greek, Latin, or English, would carry with it greater authority to my mind. To those discourses, which, when delivered before an academical audience, captivated the young, and interested the old; which were argumentative without formality, and brilliant without gaudiness; and in which the happiest selection of topics was united with the most luminous arrangement of matter—it cannot be unsafe for me to pay the tribute of my praise, because every hearer was an admirer, and every admirer will be a witness. As a tutor, he was unwearied in the instruction, liberal in the government, and anxious for the welfare, of all intrusted to his care. The brilliancy of his conversation, and the suavity of his manners, were the more endearing, because they were united with qualities of a higher order; because, in morals, he was correct without moroseness; and because, in religion, he was serious without bigotry. From the retirement of a college, he stepped, at once, into the circle of a court. But he was not dazzled by its glare, nor tainted by its corruptions. As a prelate, he does honour to the gratitude of a patron, who was once his pupil, and to the dignity of a station, where, in his wise and honest judgment of things, great duties are connected with great emoluments. If, from general description, I were permitted to descend to particular detail, I should say, that, in one instance, he exhibited a noble proof of generosity, by refusing to accept the legal and customary profits of his office from a peasantry, bending down under the weight of indigence and exaction. I should say, that, on another occasion, he did not suffer himself to be irritated by perverse and audacious opposition; but, blending justice with mercy, spared a misguided father, for the sake of a distressed dependent family; and provided, at the same time, for the instruction of a large and populous parish, without pushing to extremes his episcopal rights when invaded, and his episcopal power when defied. While the English universities produce such scholars, they well deserve to be considered as the nurseries of learning and virtue. While the Church of Ireland is adorned by such prelates, it cannot have much to fear from the spirit of restless discontent and excessive refinement, which has lately gone abroad. It will be instrumental to the best purposes, by the best means. It will gain fresh security and fresh lustre, from the support of wise and good men. It will promote the noblest interests of society; and uphold, in this day of peril, the cause of true religion. Sweet is the refreshment afforded to my soul, by the remembrance of such a scholar, such a man, and such a friend, as Dr. Wm. Bennet, bishop of Cloyne.” 1

1 Reply to Combe, p. 25.

What, it might well be asked, in the sacred name of moral honour and moral rectitude, must be thought of the law, requiring subscription to numerous, unintelligible, inexplicable articles of faith, which could betray a mind like that of Bishop Bennet, into such poor and wretched sophistry as that contained in the following extracts of a letter, addressed to the late Gilbert Wakefield?

“You have doubts on the subject of our articles; and where is the man who has not? At least, I should have a very bad opinion of the sense and the heart of the man, who has not. And do you really think that every man, who subscribes is guilty of perjury, but the very few who understand them literally? Perjury, perhaps, is too harsh a term: subscribing that a thing is true, being very different to swearing to the truth of it. But you, at least, think us guilty of gross prevarication; and here remains the difficulty, whether you think the possession of the comforts, and what some think the honours of life, worth such a prevarication or not? This, my dear Wakefield, you only Can determine. Fecerunt alii et multi et boni. But, I own, authority is a very bad argument against conscience. If it were not, I would mention, in particular, your fellow-collegian, Jortin. He professed himself a doubter about the trinity, yet he subscribed repeatedly. I do not see why we need scrupulously inquire in what sense the articles were originally, or are now imposed? If I can make the declaration, that I believe them to be true—take the word truth as you please—I have done enough; but I fear I shock you,” &c. &c.1

The loss of his early and excellent friend, Bishop Bennet, was, in no long time, followed by another, most deeply deplored by Dr. Parr, in the death of his beloved pupil and friend, and for many years his almost constant companion, the Rev. John Bartlam. He expired suddenly, in the shop of Mr. Lloyd, bookseller, Harley-street, London, March 6, 1823; and so great was the shock to Dr. Parr, that he never entirely recovered from it. A party of his friends had assembled to dine with him, and the dinner was just going on table, when the distressing intelligence arrived at Hatton. He instantly withdrew into a private apartment; where he remained so long that his friends were preparing to depart, when he returned: and having previously desired that no allusion might be made to the event, he sat down; conversed with them much as usual; and maintained, in an extraordinary manner, the command over his feelings during the whole evening. He was for some time afterwards accustomed to place a vacant chair on the very spot, which Mr. Bartlam had usually occupied at his table, and often looked at it in mournful silence; but never uttered his name.2 A biographical memoir of his much lamented friend and companion, written by Dr. Parr, will be found in a subsequent part of this volume.

A high instance of a noble and generous spirit,

1 Wakefield’s Life, vol. i. p. 376.

2 New Monthly Mag. June, 1826.

well known, in all its circumstances, to the present writer, reflects so much honour on a worthy and estimable name, that he cannot refuse himself the pleasure of adorning these pages with it; most deserving as it is of more lasting remembrance, than these pages are likely, except from the subject of them, to ensure. At a time, when, in consequence of unhappy differences, Dr. Parr was estranged from the family of his son-in-law, with little prospect of reconciliation; he thought fit to execute a will, by which he left the greater part of his large property to Mr. Bartlam. As soon as intimation of this intended bequest was communicated to him, Mr. Bartlam vehemently protested against it; and urgently pleaded the superior claims, and the greater needs, of the two motherless grand-daughters; who, whatever might be the offences of others, were certainly clear of all blame. This first, itself a rare act of disinterestedness, was followed by a second. Finding all his representations and remonstrances unavailing, Mr. Bartlam lost no time in writing to the person most deeply interested; revealed to him Dr. Parr’s intentions, respecting the disposal of his property; and, as the only remaining expedient, earnestly recommended an immediate attempt to effect a reconciliation—offering to aid the attempt by his own best advice, and his own most strenuous efforts. The attempt was accordingly made; and, to the disappointment of none more than of him who advised it, proved unsuccessful. But “what can stop an honourable mind from an exploit of honour?” As it appeared that Dr. Parr’s purposes could not be changed, Mr. Bartlam fixed in his own mind, and disclosed to his confidential friends, his final determination; which was, to acquiesce apparently in the dispositions of the will, but at the same time to regard himself, simply and solely, as a trustee for the benefit of others; bound, by every sacred obligation, to convey whatever might be received by himself, without the smallest diminution, to those, to whom, in his own opinion, it more rightfully belonged.

These soaring acts of disinterestedness, as if rising in beautiful climax, were succeeded and crowned by still another, and perhaps a greater. For, when, by the judicious interference of one of the best and most faithful friends of the family, the long-desired reconciliation was not only attempted, but accomplished: the first to approve and promote the attempt, and to hail its success, was the very person, who, by that result, found himself not only removed from the heirship of a great property, which many would have thought he might, without discredit, have retained; but deprived also of the proud delight which he had anticipated, of relinquishing his own legal claims, in favour of what appeared to him the stronger and juster equities of others. In times when the “amor sceleratus habendi”1 is suffered to bear down too much all the nobler principles of the human mind, may not this whole transaction be placed among the deeds of true magnanimity,

1 Ovid.

“which exceed all speech?1”—“Ουδέ τις λόγω εϕιχέσθαι δύναιτ΄ αν.”

Early in 1824 Dr. Parr received intelligence of the death of another much honoured friend, in the Cursitor-Baron Maseres; who, through the course of a long life, reaching to its ninety-third year, sustained a distinguished reputation, among men of letters, by his own literary acquirements, which were great; and by the ardour and liberality, with which he patronised and promoted the general cause of literature. Over all the subjects of highest interest to human beings, moral, religious, and political, he allowed his thoughts to range, with the most unfettered freedom; and the views he adopted were worthy of an upright, enlightened, and reflecting mind. Though in his professional career he was not eminent, yet his knowledge of law was accurate and profound; and the most difficult and important questions were often proposed for his opinion. In private life, all who knew or approached him, were pleasingly impressed by the charms which his social and cheerful temper, his bland and obliging manners, and his animated and instructive conversation threw around him; and were equally struck with the dignity, which pure moral rectitude, high religious principle, and the glowing sympathies of benevolence, conferred upon him. Some of the strong lines of his fine character are thus traced by Dr. Parr—“Baron Maseres, I regard, as most venerable from his attainments in various branches of

1 “Deeds that are truly great exceed all speech.”—Shakspeare’s Henry V.

science, from his extensive researches in history and theology, from his manners, at once inartificial and dignified, from his pure and ardent love of constitutional liberty, and from that hoary head, which is a crown of glory, when found in the way of righteousness.”—Alas! amidst so much excellence, there was one blot of littleness and inconsistency. From the benefits of that toleration, of which he was the strenuous advocate, he contended for the exclusion of his Catholic fellow-subjects!

In the same year, 1824, the number of Dr. Parr’s friends was still further diminished, by the sudden decease of Richard Payne Knight, Esq. “whom he always greatly admired,” he said, “for his acuteness, his taste, and his most curious and profound erudition.”1 Mr. Knight was long and honourably distinguished in the literary circles of the metropolis; and he is entitled, by universal consent, to be placed high among the most eminent Greek scholars of his age. He is said to have been an occasional writer in the Edinburgh Review. Amongst his acknowledged works are, “An Account of the Worship of Priapus in Ionia,” and an “Enquiry into the Principles of Taste,”2 &c.—He bequeathed his matchless col-

1 Last Will.

2 “Homeri Carmina studio R. P. Knight.—Viro venerabili, eruditissimo, amicissimo, Samueli Parr, in his diligentissimis studiis, duci, doctori, et magistro suo, quæ maxima et pulcherrima potuit grati animi monumenta, dignissimaque summa ejus elegantia, amicitiæ diuturaæ pignora, dono dat editor.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 692.

lection of medals, drawings and bronzes, worth 30,000l., to the British Museum.

Nearly about the same time, closed his mortal course, the Rev. Thomas Rennel, B.D., F.R.S., son of the dean of Winchester, and one of the most zealous and intrepid among all the champions of the English church, exactly as it is by law established. Of him, in the language of high, but, no doubt, just panegyric, Dr. Parr thus speaks:—“My authority is good, not only from common fame, but from the general consent of scholars, and my own personal observations, when I say, with confidence, that, by profound erudition, by various and extensive knowledge, by a well-formed taste, by keen discernment, by glowing and majestic eloquence, by moral character, pure without austerity, and piety, fervent without superstition, the son of the dean of Winchester stands among the brightest luminaries of the national literature and the national church.”

A sincere and devoted friendship subsisted for many years between Dr. Parr and the late Rev. Charles Symmons, L.L.D., celebrated as the author of the “Life of Milton;”1 in whom, it is just as well as high praise to say, that the poet of freedom has at last found a biographer worthy of himself. Dr. Symmons was more the pupil of nature than of art; and was guided, even on important occasions, by the impulses of a high and enthusiastic spirit, more than by the sober maxims,

1 Among his other works is “Virgil’s Æneid, translated,” of which Dr. Parr says, “I think this one of the best translations in the English language.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 696.

or cold calculations of prudence and propriety. His character has been, therefore, sometimes misconceived, by those, who contemplated it at a distance; whilst those, who associated intimately with him, saw in it the most perfect sincerity, the noblest simplicity, the firmness of unyielding integrity, and all the kindest feelings of the purest benevolence. Even his imputed faults were but the exuberances, proceeding from the good and amiable qualities of his heart.

Of Symmons’ “Life of Milton,” Dr. Parr never spoke but in terms of rapturous commendation. He considered it as the most able and faithful, the most complete and finished picture of the greatest of poets and the noblest of patriots, which has yet been given to the public. He would not admit, what some have thought, that it is too highly wrought, and too strongly coloured. He admired, as he often said, the keenness of penetration, the strength of observation, the force of reasoning, and the fire of eloquence, which the advocate displays, in repelling the calumnious aspersions thrown on an illustrious character; and in demanding the praises due to the talents which exalted, and to the virtues which adorned it. Even the vehemence of indignation, with which the bold reprover exposes and censures the Tory detractors of Milton, and of which some have complained, he would defend, by saying “opprobriis dignos laceravit.”

The first publication of the “Life of Milton,” in 1807, led to a long and interesting correspondence, of which Dr. Symmons speaks in the follow-ing grateful strains:—“Dr. Parr must forgive me, if I here state that the benefit which this second edition of my work has derived from the assistance of his judgment, has been so considerable, as to give him a just claim to the thanks of my readers and myself. In a correspondence which has passed between us, his deep and accurate erudition has supplied me with so much curious observation on the subject of Milton’s Latin poetry, that, if I could consent to arrogate the possessions of a friend for my own, and to shine with the wealth of others, I could make a splendid figure, and appear great beyond the design of my nature, and the indulgence of my fortune. The high reputation of Dr. Parr for learning and for talent cannot acquire the least elevation from my panegyric; and when I affirm, that his virtues, as a man, are equal to his merits as a scholar and a writer, I say only what his friends know, and what his enemies have not the confidence to deny. I speak of him, on this occasion, to gratify myself; and he must pardon my justifiable vanity.”1

It has been truly observed, that partly, perhaps, by the happy conformation of natural constitution, and still more by the moral influence of instruction and example, the talents and the virtues of the parent are not unfrequently transmitted, in a greater or less degree, to the offspring; and the observation in the case of Dr. Symmons is strikingly verified. A volume of “Poems” was published by him in 1813, of which some were his own productions; but the greater part were those

1 Symmons’ Life of Milton, 2nd ed. Pref.

of his daughter, Miss Caroline Symmons, who died at the early age of fourteen, and who displayed, in her verses, a brilliancy of fancy, a richness of expression, and a maturity of judgment, which might almost seem miraculous. His son, too, has acquired a high reputation as an accomplished scholar; and is advantageously known, in the literary world, as a translator of the “Agamemnon” of Æschylus.

In his “Last Will,” Dr. Parr thus bears his testimony to the good and great qualities of his two friends; of whom the son only now lives, to sustain the honours of the name, by the cultivation of his admirable talents; and by their exertion, it is to be hoped, in literary labours, for the benefit of others:—“I bequeath mourning rings to my friend, the Rev. Dr. Symmons, a scholar, a poet, a gentleman, and a real Christian; and to his son, John Symmons, Esq., whose capacious and retentive memory, various and extensive learning, unassuming manners, and ingenuous temper, have procured for him a high rank in the catalogue of my friends.”

In the winter of 1824 died, at High Wycombe, in the eighty-fourth year of his age, John Hollis, Esq., a near relative of the celebrated republican, Thomas Hollis, Esq. He was a man of strong understanding, of deep reflection, and of great moral worth. Dr. Parr respected his character, and cultivated his acquaintance; nor did he think the worse of him, because he belonged to the number of those—a small number, it is believed— who, after fair and impartial inquiry, remain un-convinced by all the vast, various, and consistent evidence, adduced to prove the truth of Christianity.1 Thus Dr. Parr speaks of him, in a note:—“Mr. Hollis gave Dr. Parr his ‘Apology’ in the year 1809; and, in the summer of 1812, he sent him his other works. Mr. Hollis leads a studious and blameless life at High Wycombe, Bucks, where Dr. Parr sometimes visits him. He is confessedly an unbeliever; but he never writes profanely. He is charitable and respectful in his judgment upon the character of Christians: he devotes his time and his fortune to doing good; and, be his errors what they may, Dr. Parr is bound, by the principles and spirit of Christianity, to love and honour such a moral agent as Mr. Hollis.” And in another note, he adds,—“Dr. Parr knew Mr. Hollis personally; and considered him one of the most serious, upright, and benevolent of human beings. They often conversed upon the most important subjects; and whatsoever be the errors of Mr. Hollis, he supported them with much ability, and without any taint of acrimony or profaneness.”2

1 The pious, the candid, the amiable Bishop Porteus contemplated the possibility, at least, of honest unbelief, in the following passage—addressing those, in whose minds, after careful examination of the evidences of Christianity, doubts of its truth remain:—“Think whether you can boldly plead, before the tribunal of Christ, the sincerity of your unbelief, as a bar to your condemnation. That plea may possibly be in some cases a good one. God grant that it may in yours! But remember this one thing: you stake your own souls upon the truth of it.”—Porteus’ Sermons, vol. i. Serm. 2. See other passages to the same effect in the same discourse.

2 Bibl. Parr. p. 572.

The fairness and the candour of his sentiments in reference to the temper and the conduct of modern unbelievers, Dr. Parr has displayed in the following passage:—“Many, who may not be wholly with us, are not therefore fiercely and corruptly against us. They investigate: they may sometimes doubt after investigation, as we ourselves may sometimes believe, without it. But they do not, in this country, at least, insult our understandings and our feelings with the effrontery of the libertine, the arrogance of the scoffer, or the fell impiety of the blasphemer. Diffident they are and humble, where the knight-errant of atheism rejects indiscriminately and undauntedly. They are silent, where he clamours rudely. They blush, where he dogmatises; and they shudder, when he reviles. By such inquirers, then, no snares will be laid for credulity; no encouragement holden out to rashness; no palliatives spread over the deformity and the foulness of vice; no objections pushed forward that can affront the authority, or wound the delicacy, of real virtue.”1

But while prompt to render all manner of justice to the motives and the merits of those, who, after sober inquiry, are dissatisfied with the evidence, on which the truth of revealed religion rests; yet his anxiety, on the other hand, that they should gain no unfair advantage from the authority of great names, which do not belong to them, is evinced in the following note:—

“Dr. Parr is bound to make the following statement. Mr. Hume, in his History of England,

1 Spital Serm. p. 13.

speaks of Sir Walter Raleigh, as one of the first free-thinkers in this country.1 Now, in Raleigh’s History of the World, he again and again writes as a believer in revelation. What, then, should lead Mr. Hume to his opinion? It was, Dr. Parr suspects, hastily and not very fairly formed from the title of one of his tracts, “The Sceptic.” This acute and philosophical little work contains, indeed, the medulla of scepticism; but then it is a mere tentamen or lusus, as Mr. Hume might have seen. But Mr. Hume looked no further, or he would have found, in other parts of the same volume, decisive proofs of Sir Walter’s piety. Dr. Parr appeals to the “Instructions to his Son;” and to the “Dutiful Advice of a loving Son to his aged Father.” In the former, there is a chapter with the title “Let God be thy director in all thy actions;” and in the latter, though there is no express mention of the name of Christ, there are frequent and express references to the New Testament, to St. Austin, St. Cyprian, and Daniel.”2

In the records of his “Last Will,” among the persons of whom Dr. Parr has made honourable mention, added to those before enumerated, are General Cockburn of Shamgannah Bay, Uvedale Price, Esq., and Sir John Aubrey, Bart. M. P. Of the first he speaks as a friend, “whose vivacity in conversation, whose various knowledge, whose ardour in the cause of civil and religious liberty, and whose urbanity, probity and benevolence in private life, entitled him to a very large share of his esteem

1 See also Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 232.

2 Bibl. Parr. p. 451.

and confidence.” The second he praises, “not only as a correct and elegant scholar, but as an English writer, not surpassed by any of his contemporaries in purity of style.” The third, most upright as a private, and most honourable as a public man, had sitten in eleven successive parliaments; and Dr. Parr speaks with admiration of “his dignified firmness, as a senator, and with gratitude, of his uniform and active kindness towards himself.”

In the same solemn record of last thoughts and last friendships, occur the names of two illustrious foreign scholars, by whose good opinion Dr. Parr was honoured, and with whole learned epistles he was sometimes favoured: the one, Mr. Professor Bekker, of Berlin; the other, Mr. Hermann of Leipsic. The latter he describes as a writer, who blends the most profound philosophy, with the most exact and extensive erudition: and whom he pronounces to be, in his judgment, the greatest among the very great critics of the present age.”1 In the “Bibliotheca Parriana,” the “Orphica, Gr. et Lat., recensuit G. Hermannus,” is thus noted: “The value of this book is beyond calculation heightened by the acute and exquisitely learned dissertation of Hermann. S. P.”—And to the “Hermanni Dissertationes variae” with this inscription: “Intelligentissimo harum literarum ar-

1 “My hero is Hermann. He is not only a scholar, but a philosopher of the highest order; and he smiles, probably, as I do, at the petty criticisms of puny sciolists, who in fact do not understand what is written by this great critic.”—Dr. Parr in a letter to Mr. Bohn. See Bibl. Parr. p. 305.

bitrio Rev. S. Parrio G. Hermannus,” is subjoined—“A most precious volume.—S. P.”1

To the long and splendid list of Dr. Parr’s friends, remain to be added the names of two veterans in periodical literature; of whom, one is Dr. Griffith, the editor of the Monthly Review; a journal which, commencing in 1749, comprises the history of English, including notices of foreign literature, for the greater part of a century. The other is Mr. Nichols, of whom Dr. Parr speaks “as his long-known and beloved friend, the very intelligent editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine;” and who, in his turn, thus expresses his sentiments of high esteem, in the advertisement to the third volume of his “Literary History of the Eighteenth Century:”—“Should my truly benevolent and incomparable friend, Dr. Parr, which I have every reason to hope and expect, find leisure and inclination, by the assistance of an amanuensis, to revise the many sterling pages which I know he has already written to adorn these ‘Illustrations,’ I shall not for a moment hesitate in setting the press again at work: and proud, very proud, shall I be to conclude my labours, by the productions of so very elegant and enlightened a coadjutor.”—The hope here expressed was never realised.

The following communication in a letter from Dr. Parr is given by Mr. Nichols, in his “Literary Anecdotes,” vol. ix. p. 107:—

“As to Bosworth-field, six or seven years ago, I explored it, and found Dick’s Well; out of which, the tradition is, that Richard drank during

1 Bibl. Parr. p. 305.

the battle. It was in dirty mossy ground; and seemed to me to be in danger of being destroyed by the cattle. I therefore bestirred myself to have it preserved, and to ascertain the owner. The Bishop of Down spoke to the Archbishop of Armagh, who said the ground was not his. I then found it not to be Mrs. Pochin’s. Last year, I traced it to a person, to whom it had been bequeathed by Dr. Taylor, rector of Bosworth. I went to the spot, accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Lines of Kirkby-Mallory. The grounds had been drained. We dug in two or three places, without effect. I then applied to a neighbouring farmer, a good intelligent fellow. He told me his family had drawn water from it for six or seven years; and that he would conduct me to the very place. I desired him to describe the signs. He said there were some large stones, and some square wood, which went round the well at the top. We dug, and found things as he had described them; and having ascertained the very spot, we rolled in the stones, and covered them with earth. Now Lord Wentworth and some other gentlemen mean to fence the place with some strong stones, and to put a large stone over it, with an inscription, which I will desire Mr. Lines to send you,” &c.1

1 App. No. II.

CHAPTER XVIII. A.D. 1820—1824. Dr. Parr as a village-pastor—His attention to the repair and improvement of his church—Its beautiful painted window—destroyed by a hurricane—replaced by a second window—Additional painted windows—Dr. Parr’s love of bells—A new peal put up in his church—Letters on the subject to Mr. Roscoe, and Mr. Postle—The body of the church rebuilt—Dr. Parr’s careful management of the charities belonging to his parish—His attention to the temporal as well as spiritual welfare of his parishioners—May-day at Hatton.

Dr. Parr was a strenuous advocate, not only for decency and solemnity, but for pomp and splendour, in the construction of religious edifices, and in all that relates to the celebration of religious worship. Such pomp and splendour, he thought, speak powerfully, through the senses and the imagination, to the heart. “What!” he would often ask, “is it possible not to feel the heightened effect of devotional services, performed, with all due state, amidst the awful grandeur of a large and magnificent cathedral?” Those vast and stately piles, reared by the piety of our ancestors, were to him the objects of the most enthusiastic admiration and delight; and he often gazed with ecstasies of pleasure on the beautiful engravings of these and other ecclesiastical buildings, which he possessed. He greatly applauded the care of modern times to provide for the accommodation of an increasing population, by the erection of so many spacious and handsome churches; some of them not unworthy to be compared with the noble and venerable structures of former ages. Writing to his friend, Mr. Nichols, he thus expresses himself:—“I am glad that you have engraved the views of the cathedrals; and I should be transported with joy, if, for the honour of the Protestant cause, and of the established church, the parliament would vote twenty millions for erecting a sacred edifice, which, in magnitude and grandeur, should surpass St. Peter’s! Though an obscure country parson, I would contribute 200l. or 300l. on such an occasion.”

Strongly impressed with these feelings, Dr. Parr was always carefully attentive, not only to the proper repairs, but to the suitable embellishment, of the church, in which, for so many years, he was the officiating minister. This, at his first settlement in the parish, was a small structure of humble appearance; neither in its exterior or interior ever touched by the hand of improvement; and barely protected from the decays or injuries of time and the weather. But, under his fostering care, it gradually assumed a new and a different aspect; and is now one of the most commodious and handsome of country churches.

His improvements began with the building of a vestry; in which, among other uses of it, he was accustomed to take his pipe, before commencing, and after closing the service, and even during the intervals of it. This was followed by a plan for improving and adorning the chancel, ultimately with a view of forming in it a mausoleum for him-self and his family: on which occasion the talents of the late Mr. Eginton, of Birmingham, were called into exercise. By this distinguished artist, a beautiful painted window was executed, consisting of three compartments: “the Crucifixion,” in the centre; “St. Peter” on one side, and “St. Paul” on the other. Grievous to relate, during a stormy night, in the month of November, 1810, this beautiful window was blown into the interior of the church, and dashed to pieces!

Though “agonized,” as he said, by this great misfortune, Dr. Parr had yet the spirit to set about instantly repairing the mischief, by giving orders for a new window; which was accordingly executed by the son of the former artist, whose performance, it is no small praise to say, is little inferior in merit to that of his father. It consists of three compartments, of which the subjects and arrangements are the same as in the former window. In addition to these, are introduced into the side windows “The agony in the garden” and “the Ascension.” Suspended against the walls, are whole-length oil-paintings of Moses and Aaron. In the body of the church, too, the windows are adorned with painted glass. In one, appears the head of “Cranmer,” the founder of the English church, and its reformer from popery; and in another, that of “Tillotson,” the faithful guardian of the same church, and its preserver, when in danger of relapsing into the errors it had renounced. A third window is also filled with painted glass, brought from the cathedral at Orleans, representing a group of ancient patriarchs and prophets, the gift of Mrs. Price, of Bagginton Hall; and in a fourth window, are three figures, unknown, or, at least, undescribed.

In a letter to Mr. Roscoe, dated Hatton, November 11, 1818, soliciting subscriptions towards repairing the loss of his first window—in which, it hardly need be added, he was successful—Dr. Parr writes:—

“Now, dear sir, I shall so far confide in your most valuable and long-tried good-will towards me, as to state some particulars, in which I am much interested. You know that I am exceedingly intent upon the decoration of my village-church, and that I have expended upon it large sums of my own, and have sometimes troubled you and my other friends for contributions to it. Whatever share may be assigned to whim or singularity, in this solicitude for the ornaments of a place of worship, I shall without difficulty gain credit from a man of your discernment, when I tell you that my exertions have been accompanied by very favourable effects on the minds, and on the manners, and on the morals of my parishioners. They hear from me, not mystical or controversial, but plain, earnest, practical discourses. They hear them with greater pleasure, because the house of worship is endeared to them by the improvements I have made in it. In 1794, I put up a costly and beautiful painted window, of three compartments, at the east end of my church. They delighted me and my flock. They attracted the notice of neighbours and of strangers. They produced, for the artist, some lucrative employment, at Oxford and at other places. This window was, on the 11th of this month, shattered to pieces by a violent hurricane. Never shall I enter into the church with a composed mind till the window is restored; and I have determined to restore it. I shall have, in one compartment, “the Transfiguration;” in the middle, “the Crucifixion;” and in the third, “the Ascension.”1 Without scrutinising the faith of men of taste, I am sure that they would have been charmed with the picture of the Crucifixion, which was lately destroyed. I hope that you will like the substitution of “the Transfiguration” and “the Ascension” for the two large figures of Peter and Paul. But I think it somehow unkind, and even heterodox, to turn the two apostolical worthies out of church; and, therefore, I shall put smaller figures of them into two windows. I have agreed to give 150l. for the eastern window, and 24l. for the two side windows; and I calculate the incidental expenses at 10l. or 12l. I feel very little difficulty in expressing my earnest hope that you will favour me with a contribution. Like other ecclesiastical zealots, I am a sturdy beggar in the cause of the church; and I hope that, in spite of all their heretical prejudices, Mr. Martin, Mr. Shepherd, and Dr. Crompton, will, upon this occasion, make their peace with the hierarchy, and show their good-will to me, by contributing to the restoration of the window. If they should raise any objection, upon the score of doctrine or discipline; I must desire you to undertake the office of disputant, and to beat down their impious cavils. If you cannot convince, you may at least persuade; and per-

1 A different arrangement was afterwards made.

suasion will be satisfactory to me, as a true member of the priesthood, if it be accompanied with some pecuniary advantage to the mother-church. I am, &c.—

S. Parr.”

Other appendages, useful or ornamental, for which Hatton Church is indebted to the liberality of Dr. Parr, or, through his influence, to that of his friends, are, the parish-clock; the splendid decorations of the pulpit and the altar; the service of plate for the communion-table, and the organ. This last was introduced into the public service in August 1818: on which occasion, Dr. Parr preached a long and learned discourse; tracing the origin and the progress of sacred music, and showing its pleasing and useful application to the purposes of religious worship.

But of all his improvements, none gave him a higher degree of satisfaction than the recasting of the parish-bells, with the addition of a new one; and these were so well tuned, that he often boasted they were the most musical peal in Warwickshire. From his youth he was fond of bells; and frequently rang them for his own amusement.1 The friends, accustomed to visit him on Sundays, have often observed the extreme pleasure with which, sitting in his parlour in a summer’s evening—his windows open—he would listen to the sounds of his own bells, as they were wafted over the fields, in front of his house, “now, in sweet cadence, dying away,” and “now, pealing loud again, and louder still.” On such occasions, he would remain

1 “Jones’s Clavis Campanalogia, or a Key to the Art of Ringing.—A favourite book. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 478.

for some time silent and motionless, his eyes upraised, his countenance fixed, as if wholly absorbed in the delightful sensations which the distant harmony created.

His love of music of this kind led him to study the whole history of bells, from the period of their first introduction into the Christian church, about the sixth century, and to investigate the various uses, rational or superstitious, to which they have been applied. Persons, who introduced the subject in conversation, were surprised to witness the ease and accuracy with which, in answer to a sudden inquiry, he could tell the number, weight, names, and qualities, of almost all the principal bells in England, and even in Europe.

In the Bibliotheca Parriana,1 added to “Magii de tintinnabulis,” &c., is the following note:—“This learned work was written by Magius, whilst he was working as a slave in a quarry in Turkey. Dr. Parr bought and read the book, while he lived in Colchester. He has since met with only one learned book, on the subject of bells. He found it in the copious and curious library at Shrewsbury, and borrowed it with the leave of the learned master, Dr. Butler. He, for many years, made inquiries for it among many booksellers; but they knew nothing of it.”2

1 Page 479.

2 Dr. Parr calls this work a great curiosity; and gives its title, of which part is as follows:—“Abb. Jo. Bapt. Paccichelli Xti. ex Regali Parlhenopæo Theologorum Collegio de Tintinnabulo Nolano Lucubratio Autumnalis,” &c.—Bibl. Parr. p. 479.

Of his own fondness for bells, and his proficiency in the art of ringing, he boasts, in the following extract of a letter to Mr. Roscoe, dated Hatton, July 20, 1807.

“I shall take my chance for your smiles, or your frowns, in what I am going to add. As a teacher of religion, I never touch upon mysteries, and always cry down intolerance. But with great caution about doctrines, I have great zeal and great love for ceremonies, which are not gaudy nor burdensome; which have no connexion, even to the imagination, with doubtful and unprofitable controversies; which captivate the senses, and inspire common observers with piety, or at least with a sense of decorum. This opinion I have carried into practice very successfully with my rustic hearers; and for that purpose I have frequently expended large sums of my own money, and large contributions from my friends and pupils, in the decoration of my parish-church. Now I am preparing to close my labours, by assisting to get a new and enlarged set of bells. It so happens that from my youth upwards, even to this hour, I have been a distinguished adept in the noble art of ringing; that I have equal delight with Milton in the sound of bells; that I have far superior knowledge, in the science of casting them; and that my zeal for accomplishing my favourite project is very great. I hope, my dear sir, you will not be displeased with me for saying that, in the list of my subscribers, I shall be very proud and very happy to put down the illustrious name of Mr. Roscoe, &c. S. P.”

On the same subject, he writes in a letter to another friend, John Postle, Esq. of Colney, near Norwich; by whose obliging permission the following extracts are here inserted:—

“My peal of bells is come. It cost a great sum of money; and as I want to pay the founder, I take the liberty of requesting, that you will have the goodness to forward the contribution, which you promised me; and which I ask with great boldness, when I am pleading in favour of my improved parish-church, and of my parishioners, who are endeared to me, as a sort of family; and whose present and future interests are most important to me. I believe that my Norwich friends would have honoured me, as a country parson, if they had seen the harmless but animated festivity of my village, on Friday last. A new tenor bell had been given them by my pupils, my friends, and myself: and we have no inconsiderable share in the charges of some of the old bells, which have been recast and enlarged. My orthodoxy has endowed all of them with scriptural appellations. The great bell has inscribed upon it the name of Paul; and is now lying upon our green. It holds more than seventy-three gallons. It was filled with good ale, and was emptied, too, on Friday last. More than three hundred of my parishioners, young and old, rich and poor, assembled: and their joy was beyond description. I gave some rum for the farmers’ wives; and some Vidonia and elder wine for their daughters: and the lads and lasses had a merry dance in a large school-room. Now, as the apostle Paul preached a famous sermon at Athens, I thought it right that his namesake should preach also at Hatton: and the sermon was divided into the following heads—‘May it be late before the great bell tolls, for a funeral knoll, even for the oldest person here present!’—‘may the whole peal ring often, and merrily, for the unmarried!’—‘may the lads make haste to get wives, and the lasses to get husbands, and hear the marriage peal!’—Now, was not that a good sermon?—and of more use than what we often hear from the pulpit, in the fast-day harangues of time-serving priests, the mystical subtleties of furious polemics, and the hypocritical cant of methodistical fanatics?—I am, &c. S. Parr. Hatton, July 3d, 1809.”

But all his other improvements must yield in importance to the plan proposed and adopted in 1822; which was no less than to take down the body of the church, and to rebuild it on a more enlarged scale. The design was well formed and well executed; and the whole expense was defrayed partly by the contributions of Dr. Parr’s friends, and chiefly by sums advanced by himself.

Hatton church, seated on a gentle eminence, in the midst of retired fields, as it now appears, is a structure of considerable size, and presents a handsome exterior. It is commodiously fitted up, and splendidly adorned within. It consists of a strong square tower at the west end; a chancel; a spacious nave; one aisle in the middle, and pews on each side. By a judicious arrangement, worthy to be adopted in every place of worship, instead of the old plan of double pews, by which one half the congregation are placed with their backs towards the officiating minister, single pews only are admitted: which, being all of equal width, and forming regular parallel lines, present, in their appearance, a pleasing uniformity, and bring the whole audience full before the view of the speaker, in a manner peculiarly striking and animating to him, and much to the advantage of his hearers. The light, admitted into the interior, through the painted glass of the windows, is exactly of that kind which the great epic poet of England so happily terms “dim religious light;” and an air of soft and composed solemnity reigns through the whole, such as is usually considered most propitious to the exercises and to all the serious sentiments of devotion. Round the wall both of the chancel and the nave are numerous monumental tablets; of which the inscriptions are many of them in Latin, and almost all of them the production of the late learned deputy curate. Painted on boards, in large letters, and loftily suspended, are the following sentences:—“Fear God.”—“Honour the King.”—“Love one another.”—“Faith.”—“Hope.”—“Charity.”—“The greatest of these is charity.”

On the 5th of October, 1823, this newly-erected edifice, as it might almost be termed, was opened for divine service; when vast numbers assembled themselves from all parts of the surrounding neighbourhood, and the church was crowded to excess. A sermon, adapted to the occasion, from the text Lev. xix. 30, “Ye shall reverence my sanctuary,” was composed by Dr. Parr; but the office of preacher was assigned to the Rev. T. M. Deighton, at that time assistant minister of St. Mary’s, Warwick; and most impressively was the discourse delivered by him. This gentleman had recently exchanged the military for the clerical profession; and, though without the advantage of a learned education, yet, guided by correctness of moral feeling, animated by ardour of religious sentiment, and aided by extraordinary powers of elocution, he succeeded in conducting the services of the church with powerful effect; and promised, in no long time, to become one of its most distinguished and acceptable readers and preachers. But, to the deep regret of his numerous friends and admirers, the course of his present, and all the hopes of his future usefulness were too soon terminated. Early in 1825 his health began to decline; and at Madeira, whither he went for the benefit of a milder climate, he died, in March 1826.

Among other important objects, which engaged the attention of Dr. Parr, as the faithful pastor of Hatton, were the proper management and application of its charitable fund; some of which are of considerable amount. One bequest, which had been lost to the parish for thirty-six years, was by his exertions recovered, and, by his care, trebled in value. Another bequest, appropriated to the purchasing of clothes for the poor, was made to produce, in nearly a threefold proportion, more than formerly. A third, left for the repairs of the church, which had been grossly misapplied, was rescued from the hands of improper persons, and placed in those of trustees; under whose di-rection it has been increased in its value, and strictly devoted to the purposes for which it was originally intended.

With the character of their instructor and their guardian, Dr. Parr united, in his conduct towards his parishioners, the kind feelings of the father and the friend. He inspired their reverence by the eminence of his learning and the celebrity of his name: he engaged their esteem and gratitude by the ardour of his concern, and the constancy of his efforts, for their temporal and spiritual good: he conciliated their warm affection by the benignity of his temper, and the condescension of his manners. Without lowering, or, at least, without losing his dignity, he encouraged them to talk to him with freedom and familiarity; he entered, with lively interest, into their great and their little affairs; and participated with them in all their cares, their joys, and their sorrows. The humblest man in the parish, even the beggar passing along the road, (the writer testifies what he has seen,) could, at almost any time, gain admission to his presence, and was sure to obtain from him a favourable hearing. He was glad to advise, to aid, and to relieve, whensoever his advice, his protection, or his bounty was solicited or needed. Especially to the last solemn office of visiting the sick and dying, he was anxiously attentive; administering to them, not with the coldness of mere form, but with the emotion of deep sympathy, the services and the consolations of religion. But whilst thus devoted to the higher duties which the pastor owes to his parishioners, he used to say, it was also his duty, and all would say it was his delight, to see and to promote their temporal comforts, and even their harmless pleasures.

There was one happy day in the year, marked, with peculiar distinction, in the annals of Hatton parish. This was May-day; on which a rural fête was given, under the auspices of the reverend pastor himself; who, on principles which might almost be called moral, was friendly, in a high degree, to those amusements, which draw men together “with smiling faces and merry hearts,” as he phrased it, for the purpose of giving and receiving pleasure. It was a fixed opinion, in his mind, that, above all other means, social entertainments are the most effectual for promoting kind feeling and good-will among men and neighbours. He often said that, in nine instances out of ten, where persons are divided from each other, by disesteem or dislike, only bring them together—let them know each other—and from that moment they are friends. Impressed with these sentiments, he always marked with his approbation, and often encouraged by his presence, balls, concerts, races, theatrical exhibitions, fairs, clubs, and other social meetings; those, especially, in which the high and the low associate and come into communion with each other. Though he strongly pleaded for the rights and the honours of the privileged orders; yet he insisted that such distinctions are carried, in this country, much too far; and that if the higher classes would bend down, and the lower look up, more, the result in checking the undue pride of the one, and encouraging the pro-per confidence of the other, would be beneficial to all.

With these views chiefly, it was that, reviving a pleasant custom of olden times, Dr. Parr used, for many years, to invite the rich and the poor of his neighbourhood to meet together, in friendly intercourse, on the day on which, formerly, as old John Stow tells, “every man, except impediment, would early in the morning walk into the sweet meadows and green woods; there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet flowers, and with the harmony of birds, praising God in their kind;”—“whilst the after-part of the day was spent in dancing round a may-pole; which, being placed in a convenient part of the village, stands there, as it were, consecrated to the Goddess of Flowers, without the least violation offered to it, in the whole circle of the year.”

About two hundred yards from Hatton parsonage, are seen, on the opposite side of the road, a cottage or two, overtopped by a few aged and lofty firs, which throw their shades over a small green; and this was the chosen spot, where a may-pole, tall and straight as a ship’s mast, was erected, and is still left standing, “without the least violation offered to it;” the memorial of a social and joyful day, gone by, perhaps never to return. Here, on the expected morn, the early villagers repaired, and the preparations commenced. A sufficient space, boarded and roped round, was provided for the dancing; and the naked may-pole soon received its appropriate adornings of flowers, some natural, some artificial, all fancifully formed into garlands, and tastefully decorated with ribands. The company invited were the sons and daughters of the neighbouring farmers and tradesmen, the young ladies and gentlemen of the surrounding towns and villages, and many of the visitants from Leamington. These were greatly augmented in number by others, who came, uninvited, as spectators of the scene.

Soon after the hour of noon, the music struck up, and the dancing began. All was mirth and joy; pleasure brightly shone in many a rustic countenance; whilst those of higher grade seemed to throw off all reserve, and to join, with light step, and heart as light, in the amusements of the day. Dressed in his clerical habits, the delighted pastor was every where to be seen, bustling about amidst the happy crowds; gay as the gayest; shaking hands with one, chatting with another; greeting, with smiles and merry jests, the rosyfaced girls he met, or archly inquiring after their absent friends and favourites. Wherever he went, he was sure to be received with the welcome of looks, and words, and gestures, which showed that he was as much beloved as respected.

About the hour of three, dinner was usually announced, and the summons joyfully obeyed. The female part of the company were entertained at the parsonage, where a cold but abundant repast was prepared; whilst the male visitants were left, from the want of room, to provide for themselves, at the village inn. But the separation was of no long duration. Within little more than an hour, the whole company re-assembled; partners were re-chosen; and many a mazy circle was again footed merrily round. The master of the rustic ceremonies soon appeared, pacing about as before; conversing with friends; scattering his playful wit amongst every little group he met, or watching the progress of the dancing—which, with a short interval allowed for tea, continued till nine o’clock—when, resuming his official dignity, he pronounced his good wishes of health and happiness to all, and closed the scene. In a few minutes all was quiet. Such is the history of a may-pole day at Hatton. Might not the example be recommended, as worthy of imitation, by every pastor of every village throughout the country?

CHAPTER XIX. A.D. 1820—1824. Dr. Parr as a parish priest—His care to perform all the offices of the church—His manner of reading the liturgy—His mode of commenting on the Scriptures—His critical remarks inserted in the margin of the Hatton prayer-book—His manner of preaching—The subject-matter of his discourses—His opinion of the evangelical party—His religious instruction of the young—His support of popular education.

The faithful care, with which Dr. Parr discharged all the duties of a parish priest, has been already noticed; and it must now be added, that this care continued unabated to the close of life. It was rarely that he sought or accepted assistance in the usual services of the church; and the baptismal, the communion, the matrimonial, and the burial services, he still less rarely resigned to others. His death was hastened by a resolution, which he could not be persuaded by any entreaties to relinquish, of performing the last solemn offices over the grave of one of his parishioners, on a cold and windy day.

Nothing could be more solemn and impressive than Dr. Parr’s manner of reading the liturgic forms of the church; with the exception, indeed, of those parts, of which he did not approve. Many of his clerical brethren, it is well known, alter or omit those expressions, or portions of the service, which do not accord with their own opinions. But Dr. Parr always considered himself bound to read the whole prescribed form, without the least diminution or variation; though it may well bear a question, whether his careless or hurried manner of reading what he seriously disapproved, did not seem to pour upon it more contempt, than silent omission would have done.

Some years ago, it was stated by a correspondent, in a periodical work,1 who had attended the services of Hatton church, on the previous Christmas day, that, in reciting the Athanasian creed, Dr. Parr read it, with a haste and a levity, which many would deem indecorous or irreverent. It was also stated, that in his address to his audience, he denounced the creed as a forgery, imposed upon the Christian world, under the name of a bishop, by whom it was never written: or even if it were, he said, he should never be deterred from rejecting absurdities so gross, even by the sanction of a name so great.

“This letter-writer,” says Dr. Parr, in his reply, published in the same work,1 “is correct, when he describes me as not pronouncing all the sentences of the Athanasian creed, with the same slowness, or the same solemnity, and as professing not to look upon Athanasius as the author of the creed. I cannot, at this distance of time, take upon me to say precisely what terms I used about the contents of the creed. I was not, indeed, likely to express any marked approbation of it. But I am inclined to believe, that your correspondent has inadvertently imputed to me stronger language of disapprobation than I really employed. While the Athanasian

1 Christian Reformer, Feb. 1818. 2 Ibid. Aug. 1818.

creed is retained in the service of our venerable church, I hold it my duty not to omit it. But while I read it faithfully and audibly, I think myself authorised to lay more or less stress upon particular parts, according to my own discretion.”

With the exception of what few persons, in the present day, will deny to be really objectionable parts of a most rational and sublime service, it may be said, with truth, that never was the liturgy of the church read with more exact propriety, or with more impressive energy, than by the officiating minister of Hatton. The most careless hearer could scarcely fail to be roused to attention, and struck with awe, when, with his majestic air, his devout looks, his deep and solemn tones, he repeated such admirable prayers as the confession, the general supplication, and the general thanksgiving; or when he recited that beautiful and animated, though not wholly unexceptionable form, the litany; or when, from the communion table, he delivered the decalogue, with a voice which seemed to speak his sense of that high and holy authority, under which it was originally promulgated.

It was his custom to comment on the lesson, or the collect, of the day; and his explanatory remarks were always instructive to the highest, and usually intelligible to the lowest, of his hearers. If, indeed, a clerical friend happened to be present, he would occasionally introduce critical observations, with this notice, that they were intended, not for the congregation generally, but for his learned brother in particular, by whom only, he would add, they could be fully understood. He often took with him into the reading-desk a volume, and sometimes two or three, consisting of different translations or expositions of the Scriptures; and from these he read passages, previously selected, for the information of his hearers. No teacher of religion was ever penetrated with a more earnest desire to enlighten ignorance, and to correct error; to guide the honest inquirer after truth, and to aid his judgment in forming just and reasonable sentiments on all subjects connected with the religious principles, the moral conduct, and the future expectations, of man.

The following may serve as a specimen of his manner of commenting on the Scriptures. Reading, on Christmas day, the appointed lesson, from Isaiah ix. 1—8, in which occurs that memorable passage—“To us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace,” &c.—he said that a great part of this lesson was not correctly translated; and that he had long wished to see it, either more correctly given, or entirely expunged from the church service. He added that he was obliged to read it as it there stands; but that he would give them another translation of the same passage, which he thought much nearer to the original. The translation which he accordingly gave seems to have been partly that of Bishop Lowth, and still more nearly that of Grotius, the Septuagint, and Mr. Dodson.

Reading, on the same occasion, as the second lesson of the day, the proem to John’s Gospel, he observed that the term there employed, “the word,” did not well express the meaning of the original; and that if the term “wisdom” were substituted for it, the translation would be more literal and just. He referred to the well-known passage, Prov. viii. 23, &c., in which similar expressions are found; and which he doubted not the evangelist had in view, when he wrote these introductory sentences. Further remarks, on the same passage, given by Dr. Parr, on other occasions, are as follows: “In the beginning,” i. e. “at the creation.”—“All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made,” &c.—“In him was life,” &c.—“For him read it.”—“The darkness comprehendeth it not,” read “receiveth it not.”—“He came unto his own,” i. e. land; “and his own,”i.e. “countrymen, received him not.”—“The word was made flesh;” i. e. “tabernacled, dwelt for a time in a fleshly tabernacle.”—“Only-begotten of the Father.”—“Christ is so called six times in the Scriptures; it means peculiarly beloved, like an only child.”—“For of in the same clause, read from the Father, i. e. who came from him.”—“Full of grace and truth.”—“Grace means favour; and truth means solid substantial doctrines, opposed to the figures and shadows of the law. But the better interpretation would be true real favour.”

These last remarks are extracted from the margin of the prayer-book belonging to Hatton Church; and it deserves to be mentioned, as a proof of Dr. Parr’s careful attention to the instruction of his parishioners, that, in the margin of the same prayer-book are inserted a considerable number of explanatory or emendatory notes, on other passages of the English Bible, and on various parts of the church-service. These notes, though not often original, are useful and important. It is much to be regretted that the prayer-book, by an act scarcely warrantable, and certainly not respectful or grateful to the memory of its late minister, was, soon after his death, removed from the church, and even from the parish!

Except on particular occasions, Dr. Parr seldom wrote sermons, or delivered those of his own composition from the pulpit. His usual method of preaching was, to read select passages from the printed sermons of eminent divines; of whom his favourites were Barrow, Clark, Balguy, Pierce, Jortin, among those of the English church; and Fawcett, Rees, G. Walker, and Zollikoffer, members of other churches. But, in the course of his reading, he always introduced his own observations; which not unfrequently, indeed, formed the largest portion of the whole: and from the justness and value of the thought, from the felicity and energy of the expression, and from the solemn earnestness of the delivery, these unpremeditated observations never failed to fix on the hearers the most powerful impressions. Sometimes, after reading no more than a single page or two from his borrowed sermon, he would expatiate on the subject of it, or on some other connected subject, so freely and so copiously, as to occupy the whole of the allotted time: when closing his book, he would promise to finish, at a future opportunity, the discourse which he had then only begun.

On one occasion, as Dr. Parr related in the hearing of the present writer, he was preaching in his church at Hatton, and had just entered on his discourse, when he observed among his audience one whom he knew, and whom he characterized as a “Brom-wych-am bigot.” Instantly changing his subject, and slightly, apologizing for the change, he proceeded to deliver, as he expressed it, “a wholesome lesson” on the meanness and the misery of an intolerant spirit, and the duty, the reasonableness and happiness of cultivating sentiments of esteem and kind regard towards honest men of all religious sects. On these topics he spoke for the greater part of an hour; and, according to the report of several competent judges, a discourse more forcible in its remonstrances, more persuasive in its reasonings, or more fervid, flowing, and impressive in its language, has rarely been heard from the pulpit, or read from the press.

On another occasion, of much earlier date, his talents, as a pulpit improvvisatore, were put to a very severe test. He had engaged to preach at St. Laurence’s Church, Norwich, of which his cousin, the Rev. Robert Parr, was at that time the minister; and, as a trial of his extemporaneous powers, it was agreed that the text, on which he was to comment, should be chosen by his cousin, who was to read prayers, and should be given to him, as he passed the desk, to ascend the pulpit. The result, it is said, was, that no premeditated discourse could have been more conspicuously arranged, more elegantly expressed, or more fluently delivered.

The subjects of Dr. Parr’s sermons, whether composed by himself, or borrowed from others, were not often controversial; although, on particular occasions, he thought proper to state explicitly his opinions on some of the most important subjects in dispute among Christians, and to defend them with all the force which argument and eloquence could supply. But the general strain of his preaching was moral and devotional. Thus, on one occasion, he speaks of himself: “Upon abstruse and controverted points of theology, I very rarely introduce any observations of my own. My talents, such as they are, seem to me much better employed in reasoning of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come.”1—On another occasion, he thus explains his sentiments: “I have chosen to speak of that sympathy, which arises from the participation of religious duties in the sanctuary, rather than that, which proceeds from similarity of opinion upon abstruse and polemical questions of divinity. The moral effects of the latter are often unfavourable to benevolence; and, with the highest respect for the talents and erudition of those persons, who are most capable of examining such Questions, I shall venture to express my most fixed and solemn judgment, that they ought to be very rarely introduced, and very temperately discussed, in discourses from the pulpit.”2

It was a singular and unfortunate circumstance that the rector and the perpetual curate of Hatton, on the great controverted questions of theology, held opinions diametrically opposite: the one

1 Christian Reformer, Aug. 1818. 2 Spital Sermon, p. 87.

zealously adopting the more simple and rational views of Christianity, maintained by Tillotson, Clark, Hoadley, Jortin, and Newcome; the other as zealously embracing the strange and mystical system, so boldly asserted by Romaine, Hawker, Hawes, Rowland Hill, and other “nameless rhapsodists.” What a striking instance among a thousand others to show that, in aiming to establish uniformity, even on important points, the Church of England attempts an impossibility!

The annual visitations to Hatton, which the rules of ecclesiastical discipline required from the incumbent of the living, and the sermons delivered by him for three or four successive Sundays, were, it may easily be supposed, the source of much uneasiness, and sometimes of extreme vexation, to the resident minister. On these occasions Dr. Parr generally contrived to be absent; or, if at home, he never attended the services of the church. On resuming his public duties, he has frequently been known to address his congregation to the following effect: “My dear parishioners! if, during my absence, any dark, abstruse, unintelligible notions of religion have been held up to your view—think of them no more—forget them—reject them!”

It must be owned that Dr. Parr thought too unfavourably, and expressed himself too acrimoniously, of that class of religionists to which Dr. Bridges, himself a most amiable and excellent man, belongs; and which, without all doubt, includes a large number of pious and virtuous men, and of useful and exemplary ministers, both within and without the pale of the church. But absurd in themselves, and dangerous in their moral tendency, as their peculiar doctrines appeared to him, he was aware that, for this evil, there are counteracting influences to be found in the great common principles of Christianity; and it was, therefore, against their assuming an intolerant spirit that his censures were chiefly directed. In his zeal to oppose and repress that spirit, he might almost be said to have forgotten, or renounced, his own principles of toleration, when, in one of his publications he hints at the necessity “of some well-considered and well-applied regulations,”1 under civil authority, to restrain them, “as men who may be ready to do evil, that good, according to their own views of their own interests, may come; and who actually do hold language, not only insulting to a learned priesthood, but also most inflammatory to illiterate hearers.” These expressions refer to the Calvinistic and other methodists, out of the church: but afterwards in the same publication, he mentions, with much regret, the great number of “evangelicals,” as they are called, within it; and speaks, with evident alarm, “of their rage for proselytism, their ample funds for the purchase of advowsons and presentations, their spiritual alliances with two most powerful classes of the sectaries, and their uncharitableness of feeling towards all others.”2

But whatever errors of opinion or conduct may be imputed to the evangelical party, a tribute of

1 Characters of Fox, p. 819. 2 Ibid. p. 827.

high praise is due to their sincerity, their zeal, their active and useful services, directed to the good of their fellow-men, especially among the lower orders. It is gratifying to add, that some of their more objectionable and revolting tenets have been greatly modified; and that more enlarged sentiments of charity have been introduced into their minds, by the powerful influence of the increasing knowledge and the growing liberality, which constitute the honour and the happiness of the present age and of this nation.

It once happened that an itinerant preacher of the evangelical cast came into the village of Hatton; and attempted, not wholly without success, to draw an audience round him. Dr. Parr was anxious that the peace of his neighbourhood should not be interrupted by the contention and the animosity, which religious disputes too often create. He waited, therefore, upon the preacher, and stated to him the order, the harmony, and the general attention to religious and social duty, which prevailed throughout his parish; and then, in a mild and respectful manner, urged his request that nothing should be said or done, as far as conscientious feelings would permit, calculated to produce strife or dissension among his parishioners. This conciliatory address was well received by the zealous missionary; and produced, upon his subsequent conduct, all the effect that was desired.

When, on another occasion, he had received some accounts of the great popularity, which an evangelical preacher of considerable name had ac-quired in his native village of Harrow,—“Ah!” said he, “I grieve that the splendour of the old hill, which, to my imagination, shone with the united glories of Zion and Parnassus, should be outblazed and obscured by the glare of these new lights!”

But though he disliked extremely the system of doctrine which has assumed the name of evangelical, yet he was not slow to perceive, nor reluctant to acknowledge, the good intentions and the moral excellencies of those, by whom that system is received. Even in the moment of uttering bitter invectives against them, he would always concede, that, false and disfigured as their representation of Christianity, in many respects, may be, yet that there is in it much more of valuable truth than of pernicious error; and that, inconsiderate and mischievous as their proselyting zeal may, in many instances, have proved, yet that the harm done is far more than counterbalanced by the real good effected.

Speaking of John Wesley, Dr. Parr once said that he had seen him, and heard him preach; that he admired him greatly; that, in his public and private character, he was truly apostolical; and that if he could have quitted the church, it would have been to follow him. In the pleasing and spirited sketch of “Two Days with Dr. Parr,” it is related that, when the name of a friend, whom he had not seen for many years, was mentioned by some one present, he immediately exclaimed, “Sir, he is a methodist! But his methodism is founded upon good principles, a fervid imagination, and an affectionate heart. He is a most excellent, and, besides, a most scientific man.”1

Of the pastoral office, one important, yet too much neglected duty, though expressly enjoined by the canons of the church, is, the religious instruction of the young: and to this duty Dr. Parr devoted much attention. It was of course incumbent upon him to teach the catechism of the church, though to some parts of it he felt strong objections; particularly to the unqualified, incautious manner in which the doctrine of a threefold Deity is stated, without the least hint of the unity: so that it is scarcely possible for the young scholar, learning and repeating this statement, to form any other notion but that of three distinct divine beings. The writer is, however, assured, that Dr. Parr was careful to furnish his catechumens with proper explanations of whatever may be thought difficult or dubious; and to instruct them in the doctrine of the church, according to the most rational interpretation of which it admits. He took pains also to teach them, in repeating the required answers, to speak with that propriety of manner, which produces a clearer understanding and a stronger impression of the sense. A friend of the writer, who was present, well recollects the air of satisfaction, and the tone of encouragement, with which he addressed a little boy about seven or eight years old; praising him for his attention to former admonitions, and for the intelligent and correct manner, in which

1 Blackwood’s Mag. Oct. 1825.

he had then delivered his answers. The thrilling pleasure which such commendation conveys to the youthful mind, none but those, who have long been watchful observers of its feelings and operations, can well imagine.

It is one of the high honours, which belong to Dr. Parr, as noticed in a former page, that he was one of the first, who in modern times have asserted publicly the right of the poor to the benefit of wise and good education; comprehending the means of acquiring their proper and reasonable share of the knowledge and intellectual improvement, of the age and country in which they live. These enlightened views, which he adopted at the earliest, he held with confirmed and increasing conviction to the latest, period of life. As the charity-schools, established in so many parts of the kingdom, had been found insufficient, for the dissemination of elementary learning, throughout a vast and growing population, he marked with much satisfaction, the rise and progress of the first attempt to supply that great want by the institution of Sunday schools. He was, indeed, no friend to the gloomy or rigid observance of the Sunday; and he was not without apprehension that the confinement required, and the tasks imposed, in those schools, would encroach too much upon the season for innocent relaxation, which the day so happily affords to the more laborious classes of society. But though he thought this objection had not been sufficiently adverted to, and guarded against, yet he entirely concurred in the general opinion of the extensive good, which Sunday schools have effected, in the mental and moral improvement of the lower orders of the community.

This first great and successful plan for the communication of knowledge, throughout the great mass of the people, was soon followed by another, still more complete and efficient, in the establishment of Lancasterian schools. So evident an advance towards the accomplishment of his own early and ardent wishes, was a new source of gratification to Dr. Parr. He admired the cheap, simple, rational mode of teaching adopted in these schools; and was delighted to witness, as opportunity offered, the decent appearance and orderly arrangement of the youthful crowds, assembled together; and the ease and the regularity, with which the vast machine of discipline and education moves on. When, after visiting one of the schools, the common objection, taken from the supposed want of religious instruction, was urged against them, he replied—“I see that sufficient care is taken to inculcate, in religion, great principles, and, in morals, good maxims; and I am satisfied.” He often smiled with pity or contempt at the weak and unreasonable apprehensions, which so many of his clerical brethren entertained, lest the increasing knowledge of the people should be followed by a decreasing attachment to the church. Such apprehensions he stigmatised, as no less dishonourable to that church, than groundless in themselves; and even if not wholly without foundation, still it was impossible to look, he would frequently observe, but with amazement and scorn, upon those, who have the folly to expect, or the littleness to desire, that the interests of any human establishments, civil or ecclesiastical, should finally prevail over the greater interests of the society, for whose good alone they exist.

The signal success of the Lancasterian schools, working on the fears of the high-church clergy, soon roused them into action; and it was speedily determined, not as a matter of choice, but as a measure of self-defence, to establish schools of their own, which they had the address to call “national schools.” But against that appellation Dr. Parr always vehemently protested, as a false assumption; “because,” said he, “from whatever benefits these schools may offer, one-half of the nation, at least, by an express law of exclusion, are shut out.” Speaking one day on the subject to the writer—“I am afraid,” said he, with a significant smile, “it will not do to pry too closely into the motives, in which this great scheme of national education has originated. No doubt, its intended purpose is, to inculcate what some would call ‘wholesome prejudice,’ quite as much as to communicate useful knowledge.”—“But never mind,” continued he, “here is knowledge, and there is prejudice; and depend upon it the first will, in the end, be too strong for the last.”—“Yes,” resumed he, after a short pause, “these schools, you will say, without, are hedged round by exclusions, and within, fettered by restrictions; and yet, in spite of all, the sure effect will be to put the key of knowledge into the hands of the common people: and trust me, when once they have it, they will make a proper use of it.”—“Upon the whole,” added he, “I am satisfied that the result of these two rival institutions will be a balance of good, though perhaps not equal good; and therefore I shall give my support to both.” Accordingly, besides his contributions during life, he has left, by his will, 10l. to the Lancasterian school of Birmingham, and 10l. to that which he scrupulously calls “the school conducted upon Dr. Bell’s plan,” in the same place. Upon a similar principle, he has left sums to the support of two very different societies; which have sometimes been placed in almost hostile array against each other—the British and Foreign Bible Society, and the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge: to the former, ten guineas; and to the latter, probably because of its greater need, the larger sum of nineteen guineas.

CHAPTER XX. A.D. 1820—1825. Dr. Parr’s first dangerous illness—His recovery—Celebration of his seventy-third birth-day—His closing years—His last illness—His composure of mind—His piety—His benevolence as displayed in his last hours—His death—His funeral—His monumental inscription written by himself.

In these “Memoirs,” having traced the progress of a long, studious, and active life, it is now the melancholy task of the writer, to delineate its closing scene.

Dr. Parr had always the happiness to enjoy, with little interruption, excellent health and spirits. His digestive powers were good; and, though often severely tried, were found unfailing. Dr. Middleton, who was for the last twenty years his household physician, in a written communication, with which he has favoured the writer, states that, during the whole period, till the year 1820, he was never in attendance upon Dr. Parr himself more than twice; and, then, merely in cases of slight indisposition. He remarks that, whatever might be the disordered action of the body, of which he sometimes complained, or whatever the excitement of his mind, by which he was often painfully oppressed—all gave way to the soothing influence of his pipe,—his never-failing resource, on these as well as all other occasions. “It operated like a charm,” says his physician, “and seemed to render the aid of medicine needless.”

In the early part of January, 1820, after spending, as he said, a happy day, in the company of Lord Blaney, at the Bedford hotel, in Leamington, Dr. Parr returned to Hatton, on a cold night, in an open carriage; and when he reached home, complained of being unwell. The next morning, he was worse: his physician was sent for; and he was found to be suffering under the influence of considerable fever, which was speedily followed by a violent attack of erysipelas. He was always subject to slight leprous affection about the nails of the hand; and the inflammation now extended over both the hands and wrists. It was at one time attended with symptoms, which excited much alarm; but the care of his medical attendants, and the strength of his constitution prevailed. After suffering much pain and inconvenience, he slowly recovered from this attack; though not, as he always thought, from its debilitating effects upon his bodily and mental vigour. “I shall never,” he said, “again be the man I was.”

During the progress of this painful disorder, the writer frequently visited him; and always found him, not only patient, but even cheerful; and often gay and jovial. He cannot easily forget the spirit and energy, with which he conversed upon all subjects: nor the satisfaction with which he inhaled the fumes of his pipe, from which he could not be separated; although, being unable to hold it himself, he was obliged to employ for the purpose one of the village-boys. Indelibly impressed upon the writer’s remembrance, especially, is the high and almost fiery indignation with which Dr. Parr condemned the “Six Acts,” as they were called, which had then lately passed; and which had created, he said, a new era in the state of English law: dangerously increasing the powers of the government, and daringly encroaching on the liberties of the subject. His censures did not spare the Grenville party, nor Mr. Plunkett, as their organ, who, on that momentous occasion, abjured the cause of the people; and supported measures, so arbitrary in their spirit, and so harsh and barbarous in their provisions, as to be fit only for an age of darkness and for a land of slaves.

On the 26th January, 1820, Dr. Parr completed his seventy-third year; and, though suffering under the severity of his disorder, yet, in opposition to all the remonstrances of his physician, he determined that the day should be celebrated at Hatton, by a large party of friends, some from a great distance, whom he had previously invited. Thus cheerfully he writes to his friend, Mr. Parkes—

“My inflammation is abated: but still there is absolute necessity for caution, and abstinence. My spirits are in good order for Wednesday. We shall have good company, and good fare. I shall fast, while you feast; and yet I shall be merry.—By the blessing of God, I have long had an inward merriness. of heart, which looks to another world, and which this world can neither give nor take away.—What a splendid list of contributors to our banquet!—Duke of Sussex, turbot; Duke of Bedford, game; Lord Tamworth, game; Lord Bishop of Worcester, venison; Mr. Leigh, venison; Mr. Coke, game; and let us not forget fish from Parson Philips, and a pie from cousin Foster. Bid your son Johnny whet his appetite, and sharpen his grinders, and strengthen his stomach, and then he may eat and drink to the full. Farewell.—

S. Parr. Hatton, Jan. 23.”

The company invited assembled at Hatton on the appointed day: among whom were the families of Stoneleigh Abbey, Guy’s-Cliff, Toddlington, Taddlethorpe, Alscote, Newbold, and Studley Castle: and, after a sumptuous dinner, when the cloth was drawn, Dr. Parr entered the room: his hands bound up; his face pale; his frame feeble; but his spirits full and flowing; and his joy, at the sight of so many friends, high and unbounded. For three or four hours he conversed with all his accustomed ardour and animation; his wit gay and sportive as ever; his language energetic, impassioned, often rising into strains of eloquence, worthy of his best days; and, after having, from a glass held to his lips, drank to the toasts, given according to a list prepared by himself, he retired. Of these toasts, some of the more striking and characteristic, were the following:—“Liberty to subjects, and independence to nations”—“The cause of Greece”—“May the lion of old England never crouch to the Russian bear or the French baboon”—“A patriot-king, and an uncorrupt parliament”—“May servility be far banished from our universities, and intolerance from our church.”

When recovered from this serious illness—with returning health, it was thought that Dr. Parr returned too incautiously to all the luxuries of the table. But to every remonstrance, which the prudence of his physician interposed, his constant reply was—“Why, you know we always repent, to sin again”—“For seventy-three years, my stomach has never complained. It knows nothing of your modern doctrine of dyspepsia.” “To such an appeal, from a man entered into his seventy-fourth year, in the full possession of health and spirits, what could I,” says Dr. Middleton, “oppose?” From this time, feeling little of the decays of age, except, perhaps, a slight failure in the recollection of recent events, Dr. Parr continued to read and converse, to perform the duties, and to enjoy the pleasures of life, through his five remaining years, with almost as much vivacity and vigour, as at any former period.

But the end of the longest life must come. On Sunday, January 17, 1825, Dr. Parr entered the pulpit, for the last time, in Hatton church. He appeared in much of his usual health; and delivered his discourse with more than his usual earnestness and energy, as was remarked by several persons present; though, in such cases, it must be owned, excited feelings are apt to magnify realities. After the morning service, he had still another duty to perform, which, to him, was always very affecting, in reading the burial-service over the grave of a parishioner. The air was keen; the wind boisterous; and Dr. Parr stood, though not wholly unprotected, in the church-yard. On returning home, and sitting down to dinner, he complained of cold and the loss of appetite: and, after taking two or three pipes, he went restless and shivering to bed.

The next morning it was thought necessary to send for Dr. Middleton, who found him lying upon a sofa smoking. “Here am I,” said he to his physician, “much in the same state, as at the beginning of my last illness.”—“My hands, indeed, as you see, are at liberty;” holding out to him his pipe as he spoke; “but my legs are immovable.” “Ah!” said he afterwards, “I fear they are going to follow the example of the hands.”—“Yes!” continued he, with his wonted pleasantry, “these rebellious extremities are quarrelling for the precedency, which shall take me out of the world.” On examination, appearances were alarming. It was found that a determined erysipelas had taken place, with a rapidity seldom before witnessed. Summonses were sent off to Dr. J. Johnstone at Birmingham and to Mr. Jones at Leamington. All that watchful care and medical skill could do, was done. The disease in the legs was, after some time, subdued; but the constitution had received a shock, from which it could not recover.

Dr. Parr’s last illness was long-protracted: and, during the course of it, appearances were, more than once, so flattering, as to excite in the minds of his family and his physicians the strongest hopes of his recovery; and to diffuse, through a large circle of those who loved and honoured him, a joy, proportioned to the distress which melancholy forebodings had previously produced. But about twelve or fourteen days before his death, the last lingering hope took its flight. From that time, he gradually and almost imperceptibly declined: and at seven o’clock in the evening of Sunday, March 6, 1825, ceased, without a struggle or a groan, to breathe.

His mind, whenever it was self-possessed, during the solemn closing period, was calm, patient, resigned, and overflowing with benevolence. It was most gratifying, said his weeping relatives and attendants, to hear, coming from his lips, mingled with the devoutest breathings of pious acquiescence in the will of Providence, the fervid and glowing expressions of the same generous concern, which he had ever felt for the welfare of his friends, of his country, and of all mankind. Even in his last hours, it seemed to be still his delight, as it ever was in life, to range, with the joy of a benignant spirit, through the whole compass of rational creation; extending his kindest thoughts and wishes to all human beings. If a newspaper was read to him, or any public occurrence mentioned in his hearing, he still discovered the same deep-felt interest as ever, in each event, near or distant, which bore a favourable aspect on human improvement and happiness. Thus he died, as he had lived, possessed and animated with that high religious sentiment, with those elevating Christian hopes, and with that warm and diffusive benevolence, which shed over his character a brighter effulgence, than all the splendour of his talents, his learning, or his fame.

“More perfect composure of mind, more entire submission to a higher will, less anxious attention to self, and more kind concern for others, on a dying bed, I have never seen,”—says Dr. Middleton, in his written communication to the author, who often attended him for many hours in the day, and sometimes watched him through the night. “He seldom complained,” says he, “and never murmured. Always tranquil, often cheerful, he was satisfied with every one about him, and with every little arrangement for his comfort. His feelings for himself seemed, indeed, at times, to be entirely absorbed in feelings for others. It was not often that he was heard praying, either for his own relief in life, or deliverance by death. But frequently, with uplifted eyes and expressive looks, such as none who witnessed them can ever forget, he was heard imploring divine protection and blessing in behalf of others. Thus he passed his last hours, neither dreading, nor yet impatiently wishing, the moment of dissolution: and when he perceived that moment approaching, calling around him the members of his family and his two physicians, he pressed the hand of each successively to his heart, and then, with a soft sigh and a gentle smile, expired.”

Long habituated to look, with the eye of calm anticipation, to the appointed end of all human beings, in his later years Dr. Parr repeatedly wrote “directions for his funeral;” of which the last bear date March 17, 1824; and these, in the same year, were followed by some “additional directions.” In them, he minutely describes the hour and the place of interment, the order of the procession, the manner of preparing the church, for the occasion, and the mode of conducting the service: he enumerates the clerical friends to be invited, and mentions the persons to be engaged as the bearers of the body: he describes the very ornaments of the coffin, and names the persons to be employed in making it. But the most extraordinary of these directions are the following; which, however strange they may appear, no doubt originated in the warmth of his affection for his children, and in the sincerity of that respect, with which he ever cherished the memory of his deceased wife.

“I lay particular stress upon the following directions: My hands must be bound by the crape hatband which I wore at the burial of my daughter Catherine: upon my breast must be placed a piece of flannel which Catherine wore at her dying moments at Teignmouth. There must be a lock of Madelina’s hair enclosed in silk, and wrapped in paper, bearing her name: there must be a lock of Catherine’s hair in silk, and paper with her name: there must be a lock of my late wife’s hair, preserved in the same way: there must be a lock of Sarah Wynne’s hair, preserved in the same way. All these, locks of hair must be laid on my bosom, as carefully as possible, covered and fastened with a piece of black silk to keep them together.”

Among the persons selected for the melancholy honour of bearing his pall, Dr. Parr had long fixed his choice upon the writer of these volumes, not only as being his neighbour and his friend, but also expressly as being the member of a religious community different from his own. “His reason for this choice,” as he repeatedly declared, “was to proclaim to the world, that the same sentiments of religious candour, which influenced him through life, were strong in death.” Dr. Parr’s considerate care—more, it appeared, than necessary—to secure the “feelings of his non-conforming friend from the possibility of being hurt by any high-church pride after his death,” has been publicly stated, with evident sympathy of sentiment, by Dr. Wade.1 Justice demands from the writer an explicit and grateful acknowledgment, that he met with nothing but the kindest and most respectful attention, from every one of the clergy assembled on the mournful occasion.

The morning of the funeral was announced by the tolling of the great bell in Hatton church; which continued its solemn knell till, at the appointed hour of one, the procession began to move; when, in an instant, the sounds from the gray tower changed; and successive peals of soft and cheerful melody were heard. This was done according to the directions of the deceased, with an intention to produce, in the minds of his funeral attendants, the same happy frame with which his hearers had been accustomed to enter with him into the house of prayer; and, at the same time, to proclaim to all, that death to the Christian is no subject of grief, but rather of joy—that “to die, to him, is not loss, but gain.”

Leaving the parsonage-house, the procession moved on foot, exactly in the order, prescribed by the deceased, amidst crowds of spectators, consisting of his own parishioners, and of persons of all descriptions from the surrounding country. The two officiating ministers, the venerable Archdeacon Butler and the Reverend Rann Kennedy, leading the way, were followed by the Rev. Mr. Laugharne, Dr. Parr’s curate, and Mr. Blen-

1 New Monthly Mag. May, 1826.

kinsop, his apothecary, and by his two physicians, Dr. J. Johnstone and Dr. Middleton. Then was borne slowly along the body: the pall being supported by the following reverend divines—Mr. Brook and Mr. Podman, Mr. Kendall and Mr. Palmer, Mr. Webb and Mr. Newby, Dr. Wade and Mr. Field. The relatives, the intimate friends, and the servants of the deceased next succeeded; and these were followed by a long train of gentlemen, many of whom came uninvited, consisting of persons of various religious denominations, but all actuated by one common sentiment of regret for the loss of a great and a good man, who was, perhaps, the most perfect example, which the age afforded of that glorious expansion of heart, which embraces within its kind regards and good wishes all Christians, without distinction of sect or party, and all men, without exception of name or nation.

Three times the procession rested, in its way to the church, in places fixed by the deceased himself, with the kind intention of relieving the fatigue of those, who were to bear his remains. On entering the church, which was darkened, the first appearance to the view of the spectator was that of a capacious funereal vault: but as the eye, passing from the glare of day, gradually adapted itself to the dimmer light of the numerous wax tapers, the form and the decorations of the building, and the marble monuments, with which its walls are adorned, distinctly appeared.

As soon as the mourning company were seated, and the officiating ministers had taken their places, the doors were thrown open, and the surrounding crowds admitted. The prayers and the appointed portions. of Scripture were read by the Rev. Rann Kennedy, minister of St. Paul’s Chapel, Birmingham, with solemn and impressive effect. Like his divine Master, he was seen to weep over the grave of his deceased friend. The sermon delivered by the Rev. Dr. Butler, archdeacon of Derby, has been long before the public: and it is only necessary, in this place to say, that it was delivered with fervour and with feeling; and that to the high, and not more high than just, eulogium, pronounced by him on departed greatness and excellence, the sentiments of every heart beat responsive. At intervals, simple pieces of music were performed by the rustic choir, accompanied with the sweet-toned melody of a small organ, which had been placed there by the deceased himself. At length the sacred remains were deposited in the tomb; and the mournful ceremony ended. The bells again began to peal; and attended by their soft and solemn sounds the crowd returned to their homes, “with no expectation of beholding a second time a man so highly and so nobly endowed.”1

On the following Sunday a funeral-sermon was preached in the morning at St. Nicholas Church, and another in the evening at the High-street Chapel, Warwick.

A mural monument, prepared under the direction of Dr. Parr in his lifetime, has since his death been erected in Hatton Church, and placed next to those of his own family, on which appears the

1 See Birmingham Chronicle, March 17th, 1825.

following short and simple inscription written by himself:—

On the north side of this Chancel lieth the Body of Mrs. JANE PARR, who died at Teignmouth, Devon, April 9th, in the year 1810, Aged 63: And next are deposited the remains of her Husband, the REV. SAMUEL PARR, LL.D. who for 39 years was resident and officiating Minister of this Parish, and who died on the 6th of March in the year 1825, Aged 78. Christian Reader! What doth the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love mercy, to be in charity with your neighbours, to reverence your holy Redeemer, and to walk humbly with your God?

CHAPTER XXI. Review of Dr. Parr’s character—His person—His intellectual powers—His learning—His Latin epitaphs—His English composition—His theological, metaphysical, ethical studies—His attachment to his church—His religious sentiments—His spirit of candour—His character as a member of the state—His domestic character.

If, in these volumes, a fair and faithful representation of the life, the writings and the opinions of Dr. Parr is placed before the reader, nothing more can be necessary to enable him to form a just estimate of his character as a man, a scholar, an author, and a member of the church and the state. But a few particulars, drawn together in the present chapter, which may assist a little to guide that judgment, will not perhaps displease; and it is for this part of the work that the writer has reserved a fuller account than has yet been given of Dr. Parr’s theological studies and religious sentiments.

In his person—of which those who have never seen him may desire to be told something—he was about the middle height, squarely built, of strong athletic frame, not much inclined to corpulency. His head was large and somewhat cumbrous: his hind-head remarkably capacious: his forehead full and firm: his eyes, of a fine grey colour, possessed uncommon animation even in his old age, and were finely overhung with large bushy eye-brows. His features, though somewhat coarse, were not irregular, and upon the whole pleasing; strongly indicating the mental energy, and still more the benevolent spirit, which breathed and stirred within him. When thoughtful and silent, the general expression of his countenance was that of serene satisfaction; and when conversing, his looks were those of benignity and goodhumour. His smile was peculiarly fascinating. In his whole air and manner there was much of the dignity which commands respect, and still more of the kindness and condescension which conciliates affection. His voice was remarkably powerful: he managed it with singular judgment and effect; and, in spite of his lisp, he might have been an orator.

The powers of his mind were of a high order. Few surpassed him in quickness of perception; and still fewer have equalled him in the wonderful faculty of a memory, so retentive as to be pronounced almost “miraculous.”1 What he once knew seemed never to be erased from his remembrance. His recollection even of names and dates, and the minuter circumstances of facts, rarely failed him. His imagination, vigorous and excursive, was united with a judgment strong and penetrating, though not always sound or correct; and all his intellectual powers were diligently cultivated by deep meditation and constant and careful reading.

As a scholar—in the opinion of the most com-

1 Dr. Butler’s Funeral Sermon for Dr. Parr, p. 8.

petent judges, his learning was vast and various, accurate and profound. He explored the most hidden recesses of ancient erudition; and knew what few even of the learned knew besides himself: nor should it ever cease to be remembered, that all his literary stores were collected together, not in a state of ease and affluence, but amidst want and privation—not under the warm sunshine of patronage, but beneath the chill shade of obscurity and neglect.

Of the Greek and Roman languages he was a consummate master; and wrote and spoke both, with ease and elegance. His Latin epitaphs are universally admired; some for the conciseness and simplicity, others for the richness and magnificence, and all for the classic purity of their style. All the great writers of antiquity he not only read but studied; and with the most learned commentators and critics, both of earlier and later ages, he was familiarly acquainted. Of the oriental languages, he knew only the Hebrew; and of the modern, only the French.1

Among the celebrated writers of Greece, he read, with enthusiasm, Demosthenes; and often talked of “the matchless beauties,” and “inconceivable perfection,” of his style. The tragic poets, “as high actions, and high passions, best describing,” were the constant theme of his enraptured praises; and over their fine passages he hung, with exquisite delight. His knowledge of Greek and Latin metre was exact and profound. Of the great fathers

1 “Guarini Il Pastor Fido, con note.—I began this year, 1807, to learn Italian: but I made little progress, having other literary pursuits in other languages.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 532.

of ancient philosophy, there was no one an object of higher admiration to Dr. Parr than the founder of the academic school; and he prided himself much on the close and careful attention, with which he had read his works. He often observed that there is a great deal of irony in Plato; and that he had never met with more than three or four persons in England who well understood him.

Of these persons, the first he named was Floyd Sydenham; who translated several of Plato’s dialogues; and whom he described, as a man worthy not only to be reverenced for his learning, but to be loved for the candour and modesty of his disposition, and for the simplicity and gentleness of his manners. He mentioned that he once met him at a coffee-house in London, where he lodged: that he used to take breakfast, and sometimes a slight supper; but had no means of procuring for himself a dinner; and that he would have perished with hunger, if he had not, when almost expiring, been found and relieved by a friend.1 The second person, who, in Dr. Parr’s opinion, well understood Plato, was the poet Gray; whose commentary upon the writings of that great philosopher was published some years ago by Mr. Matthias. “When I read his observations,” said Dr. Parr, “my first impulse was to exclaim, Why did not I write this?”—“Gray alone,” he remarked, “possessed the merit of avoiding the errors into

1 This great scholar, it is well known, died in prison for debt: and it was public sympathy with his deplorable case, which gave rise to that benevolent institution called “The Literary Fund.”

which other commentators have fallen: there are no fine-spun observations; no metaphysical absurdities in Gray.” A third person, whom Dr. Parr mentioned as an incessant reader of Plato, who entered deeply into his meaning, and caught and reflected in his own writings something of the playfulness of his style, was Tucker, the author of the “Light of Nature pursued.”

Of Roman writers, Cicero seems to have been Dr. Parr’s favourite. There was none whose works he studied more; and he sometimes spoke with almost awful reverence of his “divine mind.” The three books “De Officiis” he thought one of the most perfect works transmitted down to us from antiquity. Among his reputed works, however, he agreed with Markland that there were some not his, nor in any respect worthy to be his;1 but there were others which, though from internal evidence he was convinced they are not genuine, he yet thought possessed great merit. He doubted the authenticity of the treatise “De Republica,” of which considerable fragments have lately been discovered in the Vatican, and published by the Abbé Mai; who, in his opinion, was not a critic equal to the task of deciding upon the genuineness of an ancient classic author.

His native language Dr. Parr studied, with the nicest care; and he wrote it in a style clear, correct, often elegant, sometimes highly ornamented, especially with classical allusions, and always fervid and energetic. But with all its excellencies his style has great faults. It is too laboured and arti-

1 See vol. i. p. 129.

ficial. There is too much measuring of clauses, and balancing of periods. It abounds too much with antithesis; is deficient in native idiom; and there is in it too little variety. Occasionally it is overcharged with epithets, sometimes not very happily chosen. The thought is now and then constrained to shape itself, as it were, to the form and structure of the sentence, rather than the sentence permitted naturally and freely to express the thought. But with all these blemishes, few, even of our great writers, have written the language with more purity and perspicuity, with more vigour and dignity.

He disliked the task of composition, and was generally glad to escape from it; and yet, when once engaged in it, the rapidity with which he conceived and dictated, would be almost incredible to those who had no opportunity of witnessing the fact. On a subject which he had previously meditated, he would pour out his sentences, for many hours together, almost without intermission; and the composition thus produced was so perfect, as to need little or no correction. It was, however, a great misfortune that from the extreme defects of his hand-writing, he was thrown into a state of irksome dependence upon the precarious, and sometimes reluctant, aid of his visitors and friends; and to this cause may be ascribed much of that disinclination, which he felt, for the labour of composing, especially with a view to publication.

Though it is certain that by the care, with which he studied the works of men of learning and ge-nius of all times and countries, his intellectual powers must have been wonderfully invigorated and expanded; yet, on the other hand, it may be questioned whether they were not impeded, in their free and full operation, by the immensity of learning which he acquired. His memory, full fraught with all that he had collected from books, was so faithful in preserving, and so prompt in producing, its treasures, that when he sat down to compose, it seemed as if the sentiments and the language of others rushed, like a resistless torrent, upon him, and overpowered, or at least greatly obstructed, all his attempts at original thinking. He found it easier to adopt the ideas and combinations of ideas, so deeply imprinted by frequent reading on his mind, than to strike out new trains of reflection for himself. But whether this will account for it or not, it is certain that, in his published writings, we are too often presented with the thoughts of others, when we should have been glad to receive his own; and that we perceive in his works the extent and variety of his learning, rather than the native powers or vigorous operations of his own mind.

Dr. Parr was rather a man of learning than a man of science. During his short residence at Cambridge, he had seriously determined to apply himself to the study of mathematics and natural philosophy. But, when unhappily obliged to retire precipitately from that university, the strong motive for engaging in the favourite studies of the place was withdrawn; the resolution he had formed was suspended, and never afterwards resumed. Of natural science, therefore, he knew little; and his notions, on almost all its various branches were crude and imperfect. Yet, when his curiosity was excited by hints in conversation, or by reports of any of the great scientific discoveries of the day, he would eagerly seek the means of forming some just ideas respecting them. The little knowledge of those subjects, which the writer possesses, was often put in requisition for that purpose. Frequently, during his visits at Leam, proposing some question of natural or experimental philosophy, he would desire the writer to give him the same familiar explanation which he gave to his own pupils, and to exhibit before him the same simple experiments, which he was accustomed to show to them. Once he remembers being sent for, with great urgency, to Hatton, for no other purpose but to explain to him, scientifically, the nature and structure of a common refracting telescope, which he had just received as a present from a friend; and to show him the manner of using it. So ardent was his thirst for information on all subjects, that he would not disdain to accept it from any one, qualified, in the slightest degree, to impart it.

Theology, his proper study, as a divine, was one of his favourite pursuits; and his inquiries embraced the whole range of that extensive and important science. He read, of course in their original languages, the Scriptures; and compared with them the various versions, ancient and modern. To the perusal of the sacred volume he brought all his learning, all his critical skill, and all his most devoted attention. Every important passage, even almost every word, he examined with scrupulous accuracy, and endeavoured to ascertain its true meaning with conscientious care. Critical remarks on difficult or disputed passages of Scripture abound in the notes to his sermons: they occur sometimes in the sermons themselves, and in one or two of his other published works.

Though the Apocalypse or “Revelation of John” is one of those sacred books, the authenticity of which was called in question, so early as the age of Eusebius; yet, in modern times, it appears to have been almost universally received, even by those who have most attentively examined its evidence and its contents, as the learned Joseph Mede, the illustrious Sir I. Newton, and the judicious Dr. Lardner. But Dr. Parr held a different opinion, which he thus boldly states in a letter to Mr. Charles Butler:—“The Apocalypse is in the canon of your church and mine: but I have no belief in its authenticity. The writer was a man of genius and an enthusiast: and his mind was heated with the writings of Zachariah and Ezekiel.”1 It must be owned, indeed, that of those who admitted its genuineness, some, as Calvin and Whitby, have confessed themselves unable, after the most careful perusal, to penetrate into its meaning; and others, as Daubez, Lowman, and Bishop Newton, who have attempted to explain it, have succeeded so little to the general satisfaction, that the Apocalypse, whether authentic or not, must still be regarded as a “sealed book.” Dr. Priestley, however, thought it “impossible for any intel-

1 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 210.

ligent and candid person to peruse it, without being convinced that, considering the age in which it appeared, none but a person divinely inspired could have written it.”

Next to the sacred writings, he read carefully and extensively the works of all the most learned commentators and divines, both of his own and of preceding ages. If he was not deeply versed in the writings of the Christian fathers, he often perused them with much attention. Among these, Origen was his favourite; and his great talents, his vast learning, his high spirit, and his noble conduct, were ever the objects of his fervent praise. Lactantius, for his pure and elegant Latinity, so often styled the Christian Cicero, could not fail strongly to attract his notice. He acknowledged in Jerome profound and extensive erudition; and often spoke with delight of the extraordinary eloquence, united with the learning of Chrysostom. He professed to have read attentively the works of Athanasius; and said that he found much to commend in his acuteness and his occasional eloquence; and much also to condemn in his dogmatical spirit, and in his bitter censures against those whom he undertook to confute. He admired the genius and the attainments, more than the judgment or the temper, of Augustin; and probably would not have much dissented from the opinion of Erasmus. “Plus me docet,” says he, “Christianas philosophise unica Origenis pagina, quam decem Augustini.”

Of the modern theologians, those whom Dr. Parr held in highest estimation were Grotius, Clark, Waterland, Bishop Butler, Patrick, Lowth, and Pearce, and more especially Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, and Barrow.1 His approbation of Dr. Taylor’s “Key” to the apostolic writings has been already noticed: and, with Bishop Newton,2 he thought that Mr. Locke “has done more towards clearing and fixing the sense of Paul’s epistles than any or all of the commentators before him.”2 He was a great admirer of the “Latitudinarians,” as they are called; of whom some of the principal were the ever-memorable Hales, Chillingworth, Cudworth, and Tillotson; and in later times, Hoadley, Jortin, and Shipley. “I like your account of the Latitudinarian divines,” says he, in a letter to Mr. Butler, “and you may put me down in the number.”3

With theology Dr. Parr united deep researches into the kindred subjects of ethics, and the more useful parts of metaphysics; and he read, with profound attention, all that has been written on these subjects, from the days of the academic and peripatetic philosophers to those of Locke, Hartley, Reid, and Stewart. He held in much esteem the two latter of these writers, and in still more the two former; and he approved and adopted to their full extent the doctrine of association, and even that of philosophical necessity, as applied, by the second of these illustrious philosophers, to the

1 Ωκηρον μεν σεβω, θαυμαζω δε Βαρροωον, και ϕιλω Ταιλωρον.—Parr.

2 Bishop Newton’s Works, vol. iii. p. 446.

3 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 229.

explanation of the phænomena of the human mind.

It is stated by one of his friends and pupils, that Dr. Parr held that philosophy, which teaches that the human soul is a “spirit that must be immortal, because it is exempted from the common qualities which generate corruption: because, being an uncompounded essence, and having no parts which admit of separation, it cannot be dissolved.”1 Probably this account refers to an early period of Dr. Parr’s life. During his later years, it is well known to his more intimate friends, that his views of the human mind assimilated much with those of Locke and Hartley; and that, with Bishop Law and Archdeacon Blackburne, he considered the inference from immateriality to indiscerptibility, and from indiscerptibility to immortality, as incoherent and inconclusive reasoning; and therefore he founded his hopes of futurity chiefly on the Christian doctrine of a resurrection from death to life. On this last point Dr. Parr thus expresses his opinion:—“We investigate the evidence which natural religion supplies, for the probability of a future state; and, at the same time, distinguishing between that evidence and the animating prospects which revelation opens to us, we hold up to the admiration and the gratitude of mankind, the doctrine of eternal life, as especially and solely the unmerited and covenanted κάρισμα του θεου εν Ίησου Χριστω.”2

1 New Monthly Mag. Nov. 1826, p. 437.

2 Characters of Fox, p. 821.

It is not to be supposed that a man, of so powerful and reflecting a mind, would adopt any opinion, either in philosophy or theology, upon the mere authority of others. On the contrary, he inquired and judged for himself. His attention was, at one time, particularly engaged by the important controversy concerning the divine origin of Christianity, which, a century ago, was agitated with more than usual earnestness, in the literary and religious world. All the arguments advanced against the truth of revelation, as well as those adduced in its favour, he weighed carefully and impartially. It is no disparagement to Dr. Parr to say, that he was strongly impressed with the force of some considerations, urged in disproof of revealed religion. But if he felt and acknowledged difficulties, where difficulties there are, yet he often declared, as the result of all his inquiries, that “the various, consistent, stupendous evidence in support of revelation, on the one side, is such as to bear down all objections, weighty as they sometimes are, on the other.”1 But whilst satisfied and thankful in his own conviction of the truth of Christianity, yet, in some of the preceding pages, it appears how large and liberal was his candour towards those who, after honest inquiry, are unable to attain the same conviction.2

As a member and a minister of the Church of England, he was always deeply solicitous for its honour and interests. Of national establishments, in general, and his own in particular, he

1 His own words to the writer. 2 See p. 301.

approved; not, indeed, on the old exploded principle of divine appointment, but on the plain and intelligible ground of public utility. Though his attachment to the church was sincere, it was not blind or indiscriminate. He knew and admired its excellencies. He knew, also, and lamented its defects. He was perfectly aware that, in all human institutions, the changes of time, without adverting to other obvious causes, introduce many abuses, which will require the hand of correction: or if not, yet that modification and improvement will become necessary, from the altered or advanced state of the community, for whose wants, and whose welfare, they are intended to provide.

Dr. Parr carried his views of ecclesiastical reforms to the full extent of the plans, proposed by Bishop Watson, as noticed in a former page.1 Such plans, if they had been adopted, would have satisfied all the reasonable men of those times; and would have left little ground for any great or formidable objection, which the more active spirit of inquiry, now rising and spreading, could easily discover. Too long delay in rectifying abuses, palpable to all the world, not only endangers sometimes the very existence of useful institutions, but is attended with this farther mischief, that, when the day of reform comes at last, the reformation is usually pushed beyond the safe limits of palliatives and correctives, into great and essential changes, producing much present inconvenience, and perhaps threatening more. “This may be no argument to the bold and daring speculatist,”

1 Vol. ii. p. 209.

Dr. Parr used to say; “but I am one of the cool and cautious reformers, who dread all sudden and sweeping innovations, of which I can neither perceive the immediate necessity, nor calculate the distant consequences.”

He was strict, even scrupulous, in his observance of all the forms of the church: and, perhaps, his love of pomp and ceremony in religious worship, was carried farther, than accords with the general sentiment of the present enlightened age. But in the reverence, which he expressed for the English liturgy, most persons of the best critical taste and judgment would entirely concur with him. Much, however, as he admired it, yet he felt serious objections to some of its parts; and would have received, with joy, any proposal from authority for its revision, with a view to alteration and improvement. He greatly commended Dr. Clarke’s proposed corrections, in his “Common Prayer Book reformed,” of which several editions, with farther emendations, have since been published. A few years ago, one of these later editions was, by the liberal donation of an eminent barrister, and one of his Majesty’s counsel, introduced into the High-street Chapel, Warwick; of which a copy at his own request, a short time before his death, was presented to Dr. Parr. After repeated perusals, he expressed, to the writer, his opinion, in the following terms:—“I have read your prayer book with delight. Oh! it is a holy and a rational book! Sound sedate reason, and true sublime devotion in beautiful harmony! It is, in most respects, such as approves itself to my best judgment; and ardently do I wish it were admitted into all our churches!”

Indeed, whatever opinions may be entertained on abstruse questions of speculative theology, yet all reasonable men must acknowledge the strong claims to preference of that form of prayer, which recognises all the great leading doctrines of Christianity; and which leaves untouched points of doubtful disputation; which entirely rejects the jargon of the schools, and the scarcely less reprehensible language of polemics; and which employs, as much as possible, especially in stating controverted propositions, the simple language of Scripture. These were the principles, in composing a public liturgy, which were approved by Archbishop Herring, Bishop Watson, Dr. Paley, and Dr. Parr: and surely the substitution of such a liturgy, in place of the present, in many instances most objectionable, because most unscriptural form, would be a wise and needful change in the celebration of national worship.

Dr. Parr studied, with the closest attention, the whole history of the English church, and especially of its liturgy and its articles; and marked, with the exactest care, every successive change, which had been introduced, from the period of their first adoption to that of their last revisal. Between these two periods, the Common Prayer Book was revised and amended, as he often observed, not less than eight or ten times: and he always strongly protested against the notion that, when revised the last time, one hundred and sixty years ago, that revision was, on any account, to be considered as final. The preface to the book;1 the circumstances of the times, unfavourable to such a calm review as might, with any show of reason, preclude the necessity of farther revision; the great, though abortive, attempt of Archbishop Tillotson in 1689; and the decided opinion of many of the most eminent divines and dignitaries of the church;—all concur to expose the absurdity of a supposition, so monstrous in itself, as that the judgment of the revisers, in 1661, ought to bind down, to their formularies of faith and worship, the present and future generations. But every attempt since that time to procure an amended liturgy,—painful to tell!—has hitherto proved unavailing: though supported by the “hints”2 and “the arguments” of the great,3 by the reasonings and remonstrances of the wise and the learned, and by the ardent wishes of a large proportion of the clerical body.4

In a Ms. sermon, now lying before the writer, delivered in Hatton Church, September 25, 1812,2

1 “It has been the wisdom of the Church of England, ever since the first compiling of her liturgy, to keep the mean between two extremes, of too much stiffness in refusing, and too much easiness in admitting any variation from it.”—And again, “The particular forms of worship, being things in their own nature indifferent, and alterable, and so acknowledged,” &c.—Preface to the Common Prayer.

2 “Hints recommending a Revisal of the Liturgy,” by the Duke of Grafton.

3 “Proposals for a reform of the Liturgy,” by a late Under Secretary of State.

4 See “Free and Candid Enquiry:” also, “The Confessional;” and Bishop Watson’s “Considerations on Revising the Liturgy and the Articles,” &c.

Dr. Parr states his opinions, on the two Christian rites, baptism and the Lord’s supper. Separating from the former all such ideas, too commonly associated with it, as “regeneration,” a “new birth,” “washing from guilt,” “remission of sin,” he considers it merely as a mode of professing Christian faith—in the case of adults, for themselves—in the case of infants, by parents, in behalf of their children, implying and acknowledging a solemn obligation to communicate to them the benefits of Christian education. On the second of these rites, the preacher expatiates much at large; tracing its history from its first institution; pointing out the sources of the many astonishing abuses, successively introduced into it; reprobating, in the strongest terms, all such notions connected with it as “altar,”1 “sacrifice,”2 “holy mystery,”3 “awful ceremony and protesting against attributing to

1 “Altars.—Such works as Companions to the Altar are deceitful in their title. I tell you plainly that the Lord’s table is not an altar; that it ought never to be so denominated; and that from the unauthorised and injudicious use of the word, many fierce contentions, and many strange corruptions have taken their rise.”—Parr’s Ms. Serm.

2 “Sacrifice.—When Christians come to the Lord’s table they do not sacrifice, nor partake of a sacrifice, but merely profess their belief in the death of their Lord, in obedience to their Lord’s injunction.”—Ms. Serm.

3 “Holy mystery.—The term is not applied to the Lord’s supper in the Scriptures; but was borrowed from the Heathen mysteries in order to disguise the native simplicity of the Christian rite.”—Ms. Serm.

4 “Awful ceremony.—When I call you to this service, I do not summon you to any fanatical extravagancies, to any superstitious mummery, to any mystical charm, to any perplexing, confounding, overwhelming scenery, where the mercies of the

it any other efficacy, besides its own moral influence. From the whole of this discussion, the preacher arrives at this rational conclusion, that the Lord’s supper is merely a commemorative rite,1 in the Christian church; simply a memorial of the sufferings and death of its great Founder, considered as a part of the divine plan, formed for the illumination, reformation, and ultimate salvation of men: and he contends that its use and benefit consist entirely in its tendency to excite and cherish pious feelings, benevolent sentiments, and virtuous desires and resolutions in the minds of all, who engage in it.2

On the subject of controversial divinity, it has been charged against Dr. Parr, that he threw over his opinions a veil of mystery; so as to leave it doubtful what they really were, and that even the most proper and becoming appeals to him were met with evasive reply, or determined silence. For this the writer praises him not. But he must say, for himself, that he has no cause to complain of the slightest reserve, in that respect. During many hours of private conversation with Dr. Parr, questions of religious controversy were fully and

Deity are veiled to your sight, under the clouds and the darkness, which surround the throne of his offended justice, armed with the thunder of his omnipotence.”—Ms. Serm.

1 “Object of this institution.—It is something done in remembrance of Christ’s death:—it is to show forth that Jesus poured out his righteous soul on the cross, that he has set the sacred seal of his blood to the truth of his mission.”—Ms. Serm.

2 “On the sacrament my serious opinions agree with those of Hoadley, Bell, and John Taylor of Norwich.”—“Every serious

freely discussed between them. Sometimes, on these occasions, with an affectation of secrecy, with an air of overstrained solemnity, which some may reckon among his foibles, he would desire the writer to lock the door of the apartment, in which they were sitting, that no sudden intruder might overhear their conversation, on these deep subjects, as he termed them, and, perhaps, misconceive, or misrepresent it.

Without attempting to enter into a full detail, the writer proposes to touch upon some of the great leading points; and to show, by a few slight sketches, the general form and complexion of that religious system, which most approved itself to Dr. Parr’s mind, especially in the later years of his life.

First—with respect to the Supreme Being: he held the divine unity in the strictest sense, though under the modification, or, as some would term it, the disguise of Sabellianism, or nominalism. According to this doctrine, the three distinctions in the divine nature are merely three different names of one and the same being, expressive of the three great and important relations, which he bears to his human offspring as their Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier. Many divines both within and without the church, it is well known, have adopted

and intelligent Christian ought to read attentively this learned and argumentative work of Waterland on ‘The Christian Sacrifice.’”—Bibl. Parr. p. 20 and 593.—If a person approves of opinions maintained by one author, and recommends a serious attention to the arguments urged against them by another, where is the inconsistency, of which so much has been said?

the same doctrine, as Hooker, Burnet, Wallis,1 South, Baxter, and even Calvin. But what may be thought still more extraordinary is, that this very doctrine of nominalism, or, as it has been sometimes called, philosophical unitarianism, was declared, by a public decree of the University of Oxford, towards the end of the 17th century, to be the true doctrine of Christianity and of the church, whilst the opposite doctrine of the realists, and now the prevailing orthodoxy, was condemned!

Next—as to the moral condition of man: with the strongest convictions of his mind, Dr. Parr repulsed from him all the strange and astounding representations, held forth by the Calvinists—expressed by the terms, original sin, hereditary depravity, arbitrary election, eternal reprobation. With Bishop Burnet, he always contended that the ninth and tenth articles of the church were purposely worded, with such a latitude of expression, as to admit of being interpreted consistently with the doctrine of Armenius, as well as of Calvin. Be that as it may, it is certain that the former, and not the latter, has, for a long time, been the prevailing doctrine among the English clergy. “Our divines,” says one of Dr. Parr’s favourite writers, “have bidden adieu to Calvinism; and have left the fatalists to follow their own opinions; and to rejoice, if they can rejoice, in a religious system, consisting of human creatures without liberty, doc-

1 Dr. Parr thought most highly of the work of Wallis, and often advised the writer to reprint it as a most able defence of the divine unity.

trines without sense, faith without reason, and a God without mercy.”1

Closely connected with the nature and moral condition of man, is the next important inquiry—respecting the terms, on which, though frail and offending, he may yet hope to obtain Divine forgiveness, and to be received into Divine favour: an inquiry which involves the question of what is called the doctrine of atonement. But this word, Dr. Parr often observed, in its modern acceptation, is not a scriptural term; and, therefore, he declined the use of it altogether. It occurs in four places only in the New Testament; and, in every one, signifies nothing more than reconciliation: at-one-ment, or being at one—i. e. bringing together on friendly terms, those who were, before at variance. That word is now, however, adopted, in the very different sense of expiatory sufferings, which on the part of the great Mediator, it is said, were necessary, in order to appease Divine wrath, on account of human guilt, and to satisfy the claims of Divine justice. But though this is the popular doctrine of the times, yet there are many wise and good men, who have taken a different view of the subject; and who conceive that the true scripture doctrine of reconciliation consists entirely in a moral change, produced in the temper and conduct of the offending creature. On the part of the great Creator, no disposition to be reconciled, to the truly repentant, can be wanting. He is placable in his own nature; and no effort of another, no foreign

1 Jortin.

consideration whatever, can be necessary to induce him to impart forgiveness, whensoever sincerely and fervently implored. All that is wanted, therefore, to effect the desired reconciliation, is repentance and reformation in every guilty offender; and this is the end and design of the Christian scheme, and of the death of its great Author, as an essential and important part of it.

It was the second of these representations which appeared to Dr. Parr as the more reasonable and scriptural: the first he considered as utterly irreconcilable with any tolerable notions of the divine perfections, and with the clear doctrine of the Christian revelation. On this subject he felt strongly; and both in his public discourses, and in his private communications, he expressed his sentiments with all the warmth and energy natural to him. He often declared that the common doctrine in question seemed, to his view, nothing less than “a libel upon the just and benevolent Deity”—“a gross impeachment of the divine character”—“placing it in that light, in which no good man would wish his own to appear.” Several of Dr. Parr’s friends well recollect a long, learned and elaborate sermon, delivered by him, in Hatton Church, on Good Friday, April 5, 1822; in which he traversed the whole field of theological controversy, and decided almost all the great leading points against the dicta of modern orthodoxy. He particularly discussed the doctrine of Christian reconciliation; stated and asserted his own view of it; and exposed and impugned the “high satisfaction-scheme,” with all the strange notions connected with it—such as, infinite offences committed by finite creatures, inexorable justice, vicarious punishment, imputed guilt and imputed righteousness. It is to be hoped that this important discourse will be found amongst the number of those, announced in the edition of Dr. Parr’s collected works, which has been so long expected by the public.

The statement of one more, and that a very momentous point, will complete the view proposed to be given of Dr. Parr’s religious opinions. It relates to the future state of man. With most divines, he held the doctrine of different degrees of future rewards and punishments, proportioned to the merits or demerits of every individual character. But in opposition to the prevailing notions, he contended, with Origen and Clemens Alexandrinus, among the ancients, and with Dr. Thomas Burnett, Bishop Newton, Dr. Hartley and his commentator Pistorius, and many others, among the moderns, that future punishments are properly corrections; intended and fitted to produce moral reformation in the sufferer; and to prepare, ultimately, for the gradual attainment of greater or less degrees of happiness. All must acknowledge that, if true, this is a glorious doctrine, calculated to fill the benevolent mind with high and unutterable satisfaction and joy. But what must be said of the opposite doctrine of never-ending misery? “Imagine such a doctrine,” says Bishop Newton, “you may; but seriously believe it you never can. The thought is too shocking, even to human nature: how much more abhorrent, then, must it be from divine perfection.”—“The Creator must have made all his creatures finally to be happy; and could never form any one, whose end he foreknew would be misery everlasting.”—“We can be sure of nothing,” as the excellent bishop afterwards adds, “if we are not sure of this.”1

Since, in consequence of his own impartial inquiries, Dr. Parr was led to reject, in so many instances, the doctrines of the church: the question has been sometimes asked, whether moral honour and rectitude did not impose upon him the obligation of withdrawing from it? But such a question who has a right to decide? The firmness, the integrity, the intrepidity, we must ever admire, of those who, in obedience to the dictates of their conscience, resigned their preferments, and dissolved their connexion with a religious community, whose leading principles they could not approve. But, on the other hand, how many are there, men of high and unimpeachable characters, who, with the same objections pressing on their minds, have not thought themselves obliged to pursue the same course? Of these, some have satisfied themselves, by determining never to renew their subscription to articles of faith no longer believed; and others, by resolving to omit, in reading the prescribed form of worship, every thing which they deemed seriously objectionable; whilst others have taken refuge from present uneasiness, in the hope of a revision, followed by such alterations, of the Common Prayer Book, as will bring it nearer to their views of Christian truth. For reasons, then, satisfactory, no doubt,

1 Bishop Newton’s Works, vol. vi. p. 369.

to their own minds, all these excellent persons have continued members of a church, of which, with many serious objections to it, they still upon the whole approved. And who shall dare to censure or condemn? “Who art thou that judgeth the servant of another? To his own master he standeth or falleth?”1 The propriety of continuing in the church, “when conscientious scruples exist in the mind,” says Dr. Parr, speaking of a case similar to his own, “will depend upon personal circumstances, which must be different with different men, and upon general principles, about which the best scholars, and the best Christians, are not wholly agreed.”2

There are few readers, it is to be hoped, who, in perusing the preceding pages, have not been pleasingly and powerfully struck with the fine example of religious candour, which, in these “Memoirs,” is attempted to be presented to their view. Seldom, or never, perhaps, has this celestial virtue appeared upon earth in a purer spirit, or under a more engaging form. There was here, not only the absence, but the utter abhorrence of bigotry: there was not only the presence, but the glowing warmth, the stirring and active life, of Christian charity. With the strongest conviction of his understanding, Dr. Parr adopted it as a first and a great principle—that the sincere and virtuous of all religious creeds are equally the objects of divine favour,3 and

1 Rom. xiv. 4. 2 Answer to Combe’s Statement, p. 26.

3 “Bagshaw’s Dissertationes Anti-Socinianæ.

‘Et gens quæ infausti placitis addicta Socini Christiados inter vix meritura locum est.’

Dr. Parr directed these verses to be transcribed from the poems of Adrian Reland. But in defiance of the poet, who was inge-

have equally a right to challenge approbation from men.1 Far from resting, therefore, in the mere negative merit of thinking no ill of those of different persuasions, he felt for them the same kind and respectful regards, as for those of his own: and disdaining to admit coldly the good intentions, or to acknowledge faintly or reluctantly the talents or the merits, of those opposed to him in opinion; his generous and ardent mind sprang forward, with eager delight, to claim for them all the justice, or

nious, and of Bagshaw, who was dull, Dr. Parr will not erase the Socinians out of his catalogue of Christians.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 17.

1 “In the exoteric and esoteric doctrines of the English church, I have met with no rule by which I am pledged to entertain any hatred whatsoever to Dissenters, whether Protestant or Catholic; and, therefore, ‘as much as lieth in me I would live,’ and exhort others to live, ‘peaceably with’ the Lutheran, Greek, Roman,and Genevan churches, and all other Christian societies. With the light of natural religion, and in the spirit of revealed, I think it my duty to be kindly-affectioned towards all Jews, Turks, infidels, schismatics, ‘and heretics,’ as belonging to ‘one’ great ‘fold under’ the care of ‘one’ good ‘shepherd!’ How does the sacred and indispensable duty of doing good, especially unto those of the household of faith, absolve me from the obligation to do good, if it be possible, to all other men? Are they not endowed, like myself, with rational faculties, capable of physical happiness and social union; and placed, or at least believed by me to be placed, in a state of discipline, as subjects of reward or punishment in a life to come? Why then should I ‘judge them,’ or ‘set them at nought;’ or, by my intolerance, ‘throw stumbling-blocks in their way,’ to the adoption of that religion which I have embraced as true? ‘To their own master,’ as they are ‘fully persuaded in their own mind, every one of them standeth or falleth.’ ‘Yea,’ I trust, ‘they will be holden up;’ for, by methods, and for purposes quite unknown to me, the moral Governor of the universe ‘is able to make them stand.’”—Characters of Fox, vol. ii. p. 740.

to demand for them all the praise, to which they might seem to him fairly entitled.

He read and admired greatly the writings of those scholars and divines, in times past, whose tolerant and conciliatory spirit reflected so much lustre on the far less liberal and enlightened age, to which they belonged. As one of the finest specimens of the Christian charity, which he so much loved, he often pointed to a passage in Bishop Montague’s preface to his “Apparatus ad Origines Ecclesiasticas;” and to another in Bishop Bramhall’s answer to Mr. Baxter. Alluding to the first of these, in a letter to his friend, Mr. Butler, thus he writes:—“Read it, say I, to Protestants and to Romanists.”1 But of all the writings on that subject, which lay so near his heart, there were none which he read with more perfect satisfaction than those of Jeremy Taylor, Grotius, and George Cassander. Speaking of the last two, thus he gives vent to the ardent feelings of a benevolent mind. “With what attention, and oh! with what delight, have I read the Consultatio Cassandri, the Votum pro pace Ecclesiastica, and the noble work of Grotius, Rivetiani Apologetici Discussio. I differed often in opinion, but I always harmonized in spirit, with the Præfatio of Cassander ad Cæsarem Carolum V., and the Confessio Fidei Augustani.”2

Though Dr. Parr was an advocate for a wealthy and a powerful church-establishment, yet it was always with the express reserve that not only the religious, but also the civil rights of those, who dissent should be most sacredly regarded. He objected, as others have objected, to the very term

1 Butler’s Reminiscences, vol. ii. p. 205. 2 Ibid. p. 206.

toleration; because it involves in it both error and insult. It imports a right to prescribe articles of faith and forms of worship, to others; and implies violated obligation in those, who refuse to submit. Here is gross error. Then, as if waving a right where there is none, and granting a pure favour instead of yielding a just claim, the language of the tolerator is—“I am entitled to forbid, yet as a mere act of grace I consent to permit others to think and act in religious matters, as conscience dictates.”—“What an outrage,” Dr. Parr would exclaim, “to all common sense and decency!”—“Surely,” he would conclude, “it is high time that a word which denotes falsehood, should be exchanged for one, that speaks truth; and that the abject spirit, which implores or accepts toleration, should give place to the nobler spirit which claims and demands, as a just, sacred, unalienable right, in all religious concerns, ‘absolute liberty—just and true liberty—equal and impartial liberty!’“1

These may be called Dr. Parr’s last and most matured opinions, on the rights of conscience and the claims of religious liberty; and it is pleasing to observe, that, with these, his first and his earliest thoughts are in exact accordance. With heartfelt satisfaction, the writer takes leave to offer, to the attention of his readers, the following passage, from Dr. Parr’s first printed book, a fast sermon, published almost half a century ago: and the admirer of liberal principles will acknowledge with delight, that, in the testimony which he bore to the private character, in the praise which he bestowed upon

1 Locke’s words in the Preface to his Letter on Toleration.

the public services, in the joy which he expresses at the rising importance, and the zeal with which he asserts the just claims of those, not belonging to his own church, the preacher displayed, even in that day, a spirit of candour and liberality, which would have done high honour even to the present far more improved and enlightened times.

“It will not, I hope, be thought paradoxical, if, in recounting the happy effects of our admirable constitution, I should mention the present condition of those numerous and respectable citizens, who are not included within the pale of our ecclesiastical establishment. Their condition, indeed, does the highest honour to our country, and to our age. By the most vigorous efforts of the understanding, they have delivered themselves from the galling bondage of bigotry and superstition, with which their forefathers were unfortunately shackled. They have made many valuable improvements in literature, in science, and in rational theology. They have acquired a degree of literary importance, which, so long as it is controlled by the supreme power of the laws, must eventually contribute to the general stability of our freedom, and the general dignity of our empire. It has, I know, been asserted, that their zeal in the defence of liberty is turbulent, and their ideas of it romantic. I will not enter into the invidious discussion of the charge, which no man who adduces it means, I trust, to extend beyond individuals; but I should be guilty of the meanest dissimulation, if I did not acknowledge that the greater part of them have the merit of acting consistently with their solemn professions, and noblest interests. Whether it be owing, to the steady principles in which they are educated, or to the advantageous circumstances in which they are placed, few of them have hitherto learned to barter away their most important rights for those splendid but treacherous bribes, the influence of which has been unfavourable among persons, to whom I stand in a nearer and more sacred relation. Undoubtedly we have reason to thank God, that the illiberal and pernicious distinctions, which divide them and ourselves, are gradually wearing away; and the day, perhaps, will at last come, when a system of perfect equality shall be thought at once consistent with the public safety, and conducive to the public welfare. The spirit of our benevolent religion requires this auspicious change: the principles of our free constitution warrant it; the tendency of external events seems to favour it; and the exertions of all good and wise men should be employed to accomplish it. At all events, the capacity of a state to admit such a change is no inconsiderable part of our national glory; and every approach that has been actually made towards it, should be considered as a national advantage.”

The whole discourse, from which this extract is taken, possesses extraordinary merit, such as may seem to justify the opinion conceived of it by its author; who always regarded it as his best, as it is his first publication. And here the writer eagerly embraces the opportunity of acknowledging the obligation, for the pleasure of perusing it, which he owes to the favour of a learned, liberal and enlightened divine of the Church of England, personally unknown to him, whose name, if he were permitted to introduce it, would do honour to these pages. Kindly concerned for the disappointment which the writer expressed, when he was denied a sight of this very scarce sermon—by a refusal, which certainly he was not prepared to expect—the excellent clergyman just alluded to, who happened to possess a copy, was pleased, in the most gratifying manner, to offer him the loan of it, with permission to keep it as long as it might be wanted. The offer was gratefully accepted; and the book instantly sent. The writer afterwards received a second copy of the same work, from a divine of his own religious community, whose obliging attention he begs also to acknowledge with the sincere and grateful thanks, to which it is so justly entitled.

If the reader—pardoning this short digression—turn from the view of Dr. Parr’s character, as a member of the church, to consider him as a member of the state, he will, without hesitation, acknowledge in him, emphatically, an English patriot. He admired and revered the British constitution, as settled in 1688; because it recognised and established the principles of a free government, and gave us a beautiful theory, even if to after ages was left the task of reducing it completely into practice. Though favourable to “a solid substance and a magnificent form of monarchy,” he well knew the tendency of all power to enlarge itself. He was fully aware that the regal prero-gative has, in fact, dangerously encroached on popular rights; and he felt, therefore, with all the wiser and more independent part of the nation, the necessity of “a well considered and comprehensive reform in the Commons House.” That one reform, he thought, would draw after it all other needful reforms; and give the best chance for such farther improvements as the advancing state of society might suggest or demand. In the great science of legislation, he thought it not absurd to pursue perfection, nor undesirable to advance more and more towards it, though to reach it may be impossible. He was not of opinion that any form of government could be so contrived as to be equally adapted to the circumstances of a nation for ages to come; and he conceived it to be the duty of a wise legislator to accommodate his plans to the progressive changes, which growing intelligence, improving morals, more refined manners, more extended commerce, and other causes, must necessarily introduce, with advancing time, into the state of every country.

Patriotism, in the well-regulated mind of Dr. Parr, held its place in due subordination to the principle of general benevolence. “By ancient learning, he was warmed into the enlightened love of ancient freedom.” But the freedom he loved was for all: and was, therefore, more expanded and generous in its spirit, than that of ancient freedom, which seldom stretched the views of men beyond the country of their birth. In liberty, under the protection of wise and good laws, he saw the main-springs of individual improve-ment and happiness, and of national prosperity and glory: and it was exulting to him to witness the principles of it, extending and prevailing among other nations, as well as his own. Looking abroad, and auguring from some favourable appearances, the rapid advancement of the human species, “What auspicious times are approaching!” he would rapturously exclaim. “The spirit of inquiry, of freedom, and of improvement, starting into life, and pressing forward into action, in almost every part of the old and new world! Who can calculate or conceive the glorious effects, in the vast accumulation of knowledge, virtue and happiness among mankind?”

Descending from the more public to the private life of Dr. Parr, the reader has remarked, no doubt, the care and the fidelity with which he discharged all his duties, as a village-pastor. It has been seen with what unwearied attention he devoted himself to the great object of promoting the religious and moral improvement of his flock: and that the duties of the minister were accompanied with all the kind offices which, by his advice, his encouragement, and his bounty, he could administer to his parishioners on the little daily occasions of common life. The poorest man in Hatton, it has been noticed, even the poorest wanderer through it, never made known to him his necessities in vain. It deserves to be added that his humanity extended to the inferior creatures; and it was ever pleasing to him to witness their enjoyment of the happiness, for which their Creator designed them. He was fond of his domestic animals; and thought that some degree of gratitude is owing to those which do us service. Like Cowper, he gave protection to the hares, which sometimes resorted to his garden. With Montaigne, he considered it a reflection upon our common nature that so few take pleasure in seeing animals peaceful and sportive, whilst multitudes run to see them worry and tear one another. He was severe in his censures of those barbarous amusements in which Englishmen too much delight—though, be it to their credit said, less now than formerly—and he was bitter in his reproaches of Mr. Wyndham, when, by his witty speech, he had driven Lord Erskine’s bill for the suppression of cruelty to animals, which had been sent down from the Upper House, with peals of laughter, out of the Lower.

Followed into the family circle—as (except in some of his later years) he was not equally happy, it must be owned that Dr. Parr did not appear equally amiable. Exposed, in a degree, to the same domestic evils as Socrates, he did not meet them, with the same command of temper, or patience of spirit. When displeased from trifling causes, he was too angry; and sometimes resented smaller offences, with too much passionate severity. He was wanting in that wise discretion, which knows when it is good to be firm, and when it is better to yield. If faithful to all the higher duties of the conjugal and parental relations; he was not, however, sufficiently regardful of those little nameless offices of obliging attention and civility, which are of the more importance, as the occasions for them recur every day and every hour of the day. To his servants he was always kind, but not always judiciously kind. At one time, he assumed too much in the exercise of his authority: at another, sunk, in his condescension, too low. He had not that happy medium, which he ascribed to his friend, Mr. Fox, “inter abruptam contumaciam, et deforme obsequium.”

Even beyond the domestic circle, his faults of temper were sometimes too apparent. Though the farthest possible removed from spite and malice, he was too often irritable, petulant, and capricious. He was sometimes too easily offended; and when offended, not always easily reconciled. Though possessing the wonderful power of reading a character, as it is said, at a glance: yet, when his own prejudices, or the artful insinuations of others, interposed, he very often strangely misjudged of men. He sometimes withdrew his confidence from those, who had not ceased to deserve it; and bestowed it upon those, who were not worthy to receive it. He was sometimes the dupe of the ill-designing; and sometimes the unconscious instrument of promoting the ends of the evil-minded. It has been said, and it cannot be denied, that his manners even to his friends were sometimes rude and offensive; and that his conversation, even before the young and inexperienced, was occasionally, though not often, loose and indecorous. Even his notions of some points of morals were not so strict, unbending, and uncompromising, as in a divine and a moralist might have been expected.

But what are these and some other little defects which might be pointed out, in the subject of these “Memoirs?” They are like a few light clouds, passing over a serene and majestic sky: and they are lost in the splendour of excellence, which will for ever encircle his name, and claim for him an honourable place among the wise, the great, and the good of mankind.

CHAPTER XXII. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished scholars of Stanmore School—Julius—Gerrald—Pollard—Maurice—Beloe—N. H. and M. Alexander—W. C. and H. Legge—C. and J. Graham—Madan, &c. &c.

The glories of the painter, we see in the canvass, which his art has adorned with the forms and the colours of nature; those of the sculptor, we behold in the marble or the bronze, which his hand has modelled into the shape, and almost inspired with the life, of breathing and animated existence; and where are we to look for the honours of the instructor, but in the minds, which he has cultivated and improved, or in the characters, which he has contributed to form to excellence, moral and intellectual? As the clarissimum sui monumentum, this and the few remaining pages are devoted to short biographical notices of those pupils of Dr. Parr, who have reflected lustre on his name, as their preceptor, by their talents or their learning; by the distinguished reputation they have acquired, or by the elevated stations to which they have attained.

Commencing with the “worthies of Stanmore:” pre-eminent among these, was William Julius; of whom it is high praise to say that he was captain of the school, at a time, when that honour could have been won only by extraordinary deserts and extraordinary exertions. “He was a most excel-lent scholar,” says his fellow-pupil, Mr. Maurice, “a native of the tropic, a soul made of fire, and a child of the sun.” Of his history, since leaving Stanmore, little is known to the present writer. It appears that he entered into holy orders; and was engaged by Dr. Parr, as an assistant in his school at Colchester. He is the author of a “Fast Sermon” preached February 10, 1779, of which this account is given in the Bibliotheca Parriana.—“It is intended to show the tyranny and oppression of the British King and Parliament, respecting the American colonies, and is inscribed to the Congress.”

Of the high-minded, richly-endowed, but most ill-fated Joseph Gerrald, the second in the scale of merit, the melancholy story has already been told.1 Here, therefore, it is only necessary to add that, while at Stanmore, he shone, a star of splendour, amidst a constellation of young men, of whom some were eminently distinguished by their intellectual powers and attainments. Mr. Maurice pronounces him to have been “an incomparable scholar;” and mentions, as no small proof of his proficiency in Greek learning, that in the representation of the Œdipus Tyrannus of Sophocles, “he went eloquently through a part of eight or nine hundred lines, without a pause or a blunder!”

Another name, which stood high in the scale of honourable distinction at Stanmore, was that of Walter Pollard; who, like the friend of Sir Philip Sidney, wished above all to be known to posterity, as the intimate and beloved associate of

1 Vol. i. chap. 22.

Sir William Jones. He was the second son of Dr. Pollard, a physician of eminence at Barbadoes. Early in life he was sent to England to be educated; and was placed first at Eton, and afterwards at Harrow School. For the ability which he displayed, and for the application which he exerted, he was the pride of his tutor, Mr. Roderick, and the delight of his master, Dr. Sumner. When Dr. Parr, foiled in the object of his honourable ambition, retired from Harrow, Mr. Pollard, at his own request, formed one of the youthful throng, who followed him to Stanmore. Hence, in 1772, he removed to Emanuel College, Cambridge, where he maintained and increased the reputation which he had previously acquired; and, by his ingenuous temper, his sportive humour, his sprightly manners, his virtuous principles, and his literary attainments, gained the love and admiration of all his fellow-collegians. He was particularly happy in obtaining and long possessing the friendly regards of,that accomplished nobleman and elegant scholar, the Earl of Hardwicke; of Mr. Hamilton, afterwards Marquis of Abercorn; of Mr. Manners Sutton, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury; and of the celebrated William Pitt—all men of Cambridge.

But amidst the delights of interesting study and dignified society, at the end of the third year, he was painfully surprised, and almost overwhelmed, by intelligence of the entire destruction of his fathers estate, and the total ruin of the family fortunes, by one of those dreadful hurricanes, so frequent in the West Indies. Obliged immediately to leave Cambridge, with a view to the study of the law, he entered himself of the Inner Temple. But having a small estate in Virginia, secured to him by his father, he was induced in 1780 to visit America. Here he continued for some years; and here, at one time, it was his intention finally to settle. Embittered, however, in his spirit, by some vexatious disappointments, he changed his purposes; and, in 1789, returned to England.

On his arrival in his native country, he was received with sincere welcome by his two noble friends, Lords Hardwicke and Abercorn; and, in no long time, chiefly by their influence, he obtained from Mr. Pitt the appointment of Comptroller of the Exchequer. Thus placed in a situation exactly suited to his wishes, he passed the remainder of his days, in the enjoyment of ease united with dignity, in the pleasing interchange of active duty and retired study; and in the possession of those greatest and purest of delights, which virtuous friendship affords. He closed an honourable course, remarkably chequered with the good and the evil of life, towards the end of the year 1818.1

Thomas Maurice, a name so often referred to in the earlier parts of these volumes, received the first part of his education at Christ’s Hospital. But on the death of his father, many years master of the school, belonging to the same foundation at Hertford, the son was removed to Mr. Wesley’s seminary at Kingswood, near Bristol, by the direc-

1 “Stephani Ciceronianum Lexicon. Exdono juvenis optimi doctissimique G. Pollard 7. Cal. April, 1783. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 266.

tion of the Wesleyan Methodists, with whom his mother had unfortunately connected herself. She was even betrayed into a marriage with one of their local preachers, who had fixed a longing eye upon a considerable fortune, which she possessed. An appeal was afterwards made to the Court of Chancery, in behalf of the family, with a view to the protection of the property; which ended, as is too often the case, in the success of the suit, and the ruin of the suitors—”Victor plorat.”1

Thus released from unjust controul, though with the loss of almost all his paternal inheritance, Mr. Maurice left Kingswood; and having fixed his choice on the clerical profession, it was at length determined by his friends to send him for the completion of his education to Stanmore School. Of his first introduction to Dr. Parr, he has himself given the following account:—

“When, according to previous appointment, we met, I was neither terrified by his quick, penetrating glance, nor dismayed by the awful magnitude of his wide, overshadowing wig. I felt, however, degraded in the presence of so great a scholar. I repeated the tale of my early calamities, and ingenuously confessed my profound ignorance. His answers were, in a high degree, candid and consoling; and having been shown some specimens of my poetic talent, he honoured them with a gratifying but guarded eulogy.”2

Almost from his first arrival at Stanmore, Mr. Maurice had the good fortune to engage the particular notice of Dr. Parr; by whom, not only were

1 Juvenal. 2 Memoirs, Part I. p. 60.

his studies conducted with extraordinary care, and the benefit of private, added to that of public instruction; but by whom, also, his pecuniary wants were generously supplied, though with small hope of ever receiving any adequate remuneration. On his part, Mr. Maurice was not negligent in availing himself of the advantages, now offered; and for the first two years, at least, his attention to literary pursuits was close and persevering; though, interrupted after that time, as he ingenuously confesses, by schemes of pleasure too frequently introduced, and by acts of dissipation too thoughtlessly allowed. Upon the whole, however, his diligence was commendable.

From Stanmore, at the age of nineteen, Mr. Maurice removed to Oxford; and by the direction of Dr. Parr, was entered of University College, and placed under the tuition of Mr. Scott, now Lord Stowell. But though removed from the immediate inspection, Mr. Maurice was not withdrawn from the kind and almost paternal cares, of his late preceptor; who still watched and guided him, in his conduct; still directed and animated him, in his studies; and still continued to impart, out of no abundant resources, the pecuniary aid, which his necessities called for. Thus Dr. Parr writes to him in a letter, dated Stanmore, Feb. 10, 1775.

“Maurice—Among your numerous well-wishers, there is not one who thinks of you more favourably, or feels for your interests a greater anxiety, than myself. You have now an opportunity of pursuing your studies vigorously, under the arrangements formed for your accommodations; and of laying a broad and solid foundation for future fame and happiness. A steady adherence to the line, which I have marked out, will secure you both. One thing more, though no longer my pupil, I must beg to impress upon you. Amid the temptations of Oxford, I earnestly recommend you frequently to revolve in your mind the many serious conversations, which have passed between us. Considerations of this kind will tend to repress the ebullitions of your too great natural volubility. I wish to see you a scholar: but, above all, I am solicitous for your moral conduct. That, indeed, is of infinite, of everlasting concern! May you think it so; and may your caution be proportioned to the difficulties you have to combat, and the distinction you may obtain.”

At Oxford, Mr. Maurice proceeded to his degree of B.A.; and being soon afterwards ordained by Bishop Lowth, he entered upon the duties of the sacred office, as curate of Woodford, in Essex. Though his literary labours were immense; and though his zeal in the cause of high-orthodoxy and ultra-loyalty was ardent and active; yet the rewards, he received, were scarcely commensurate with his fair and reasonable expectations. The most auspicious period of his life was about the year 1800; when he obtained the vicarage of Worm Leighton, in Warwickshire, the office of assistant librarian to the British Museum, and the governmental pension, which had been formerly bestowed on the poet Cowper. The latter portion of his life was grievously embittered by a dreadful distemper of the nervous kind, for which human aid could afford no relief. At length, from the sufferings of helpless and hopeless misery, he was happily delivered by his death; which happened March 30, 1824, in the seventieth year of his age.

Mr. Maurice’s publications were numerous. As a poet, he obtained considerable applause in his day. But he is chiefly known to the present public as the author of “Indian Antiquities,” in 7 vols, and the “History of Hindostan,” in 6 vols. In these works vast labours and wide research are every where conspicuous; and the composition, in general, is powerful and splendid; but not often chaste or elegant. The author has brought together a rich variety and abundance of materials; but in the art of compression, and in the skill of arrangement, he is extremely deficient. In his pages, fanciful conjecture too often takes the place of historical fact; rhetoric is too much employed instead of reasoning; large conclusions are drawn from scanty premises; and the strength of assertion far exceeds the weight of evidence. But the greatest fault of all is, the avowed adoption of a pre-conceived system, and the determined adherence to it, from the commencement, through the whole progress of the work: since, in such a case, the danger is extreme, of perverting language, of distorting appearances, and misrepresenting facts, in order to support a favourite theory. Perhaps a more lamentable instance of learning and genius, bewildered and lost in the deceitful mazes of hypothesis, has been rarely seen than in the “Indian Antiquities;” and, though in a less degree, in the “History of Hindostan.”

Of Mr. Maurice, as a man and an author, the opinion entertained by his preceptor was upon the whole favourable: and gratifying indeed to the pupil, if he had survived, would have been the testimony which Dr. Parr placed among the sacred records of his Last Will; and expressed in these terms—“I have long admired him for his fertile and lively imagination; for his various, and many of them profound researches; and for his open and generous heart.” On his part, Mr. Maurice has recorded his sentiments of esteem and gratitude towards one of his first and best friends, in several of his publications: and amongst other instances, may be noticed, the following inscription on one of the plates in the “Indian Antiquities:”—“To the Rev. S. Parr, LL.D., my preceptor in youth, my firm friend in more advanced life, this plate, in grateful testimony of science acquired and talents improved, is respectfully inscribed by T. M.”

But a favourable opinion of the author, and, to a certain extent, of the works on which his literary fame principally rests, did not prevent Dr. Parr from perceiving all their great and glaring defects. Besides the want of order and method, of which all Mr. Maurice’s readers complain, Dr. Parr could not approve of the hypothetical principles on which so much of his principal work is written; and he thought that in his main object the author had entirely failed. Like Sir William Jones, he could not but gaze with wonder, or smile in derision, at the idea of seeking support for the great leading article of the popular theology in the Indian triads, or the Jewish sephiroth: and he stood aghast at the absurdity of supposing that, in the Hebrew Scriptures, a most important doctrine is taught, which the people for whose use those Scriptures were written, from the earliest to the latest times, have never discovered. This he thought an absurdity too palpable to find admission into any fair and unprejudiced mind; though supported by some great authorities in former times, and though even more lately approved by Bishop Horsley,1 and adopted by Bishop Tomline.2

In recording, among the pupils of Dr. Parr at Stanmore, the name of William Beloe, what has been before alluded to must now be distinctly told;3 and told it cannot be without shame and grief, that the last act of his life was an unworthy act of injustice and ingratitude. In his “Sexagenarian,” printed in his lifetime, but published after his death,4 he has put forth, in too many of its pages, insinuations of spleen and tales of scandal, tending to wound the feelings, or to sully the fame, of many honourable and virtuous men; and among these he has rudely and wrongfully assailed the character of one of his earliest and one of his best friends, Dr. Parr. To him, coming from such a hand, cruel, indeed, was such a blow. For “what would be slighted from an enemy, and then

1 Letter from Bishop Horsley to Mr. Maurice. Mem. part ii. p. 178.

2 “Elements of Theology,” vol. ii. p. 74.

3 Vol. i. p. 75.

4 “Beloe’s Sexagenarian, or the Recollections of a Literary Life,” 2 vols.

would seem but as a falsehood, often wounds like truth, when spoken by one who is esteemed a friend.”1

In this unhappy publication, Mr. Beloe holds out, under the offensive name of “Orbilius,” the most unfavourable representations of that distinguished master, “under whose care,” he yet acknowledges, “that he became a good scholar,”1 and, “by whose exertions the foundations of his literary character were laid.”1 Sometimes by sly insinuation, at others by open assertion, Mr. Beloe imputes to him shameful capriciousness and cruelty in the exercise of his authority; though in direct contradiction to the uniform testimony of his pupils; scarcely excepting Mr. Beloe himself, whom the force of truth compels thus to speak:—“I cannot say that he was ill-humoured.”3 But besides general invective, there is one specific charge, which may seem to require particular notice.

It appears that some “very reprehensible act of indelicacy had been perpetrated in the school;” and that Mr. Beloe was unjustly suspected of being the guilty person; though, as he himself adds, when questioned, “he was so perplexed and agitated that he must have appeared guilty to every one but the real culprit.”4 This unfounded suspicion, however, according to his own statement, was accompanied with no direct charge, and was followed by no threatened or inflicted punishment; full justice was afterwards done to him; and honourable atonement was offered and accepted.

1 Shakspeare. 2 Beloe’s Sex. vol. i. p. 19. 3 Ibid. p. 25.

4 Ibid. vol. i. p. 23.

But whilst peace was thus proclaimed with the lips, he feels no shame to confess that deep resentment then and for ever rankled in his heart.1 Even in after life, though he wore the semblance of friendship to Dr. Parr, and solicited, or received without soliciting, the aid of his purse, his pen, his advice, and his interest, yet still the offence of one groundless, but unavoidable suspicion was such, he avows, as could never be forgotten or forgiven, through the whole course, even to the very end, of life.

It is not easy to conceive a more palpable case of “complaint without reason,” or “malice without cause,” than that which Mr. Beloe has here made out against himself. The true secret, however, of this mighty and immortal hate, may probably be discovered in the following statement of a fact, which he has thought proper to conceal: but which, in an article written by Archdeacon Butler,2 has since been revealed.

Whilst at Stanmore School, so much was young Beloe the object of general dislike, amounting even to abhorrence, that “a deputation from the fifth and sixth forms waited on the master to represent the general wish of the school that this boy should be removed.” After listening to facts, and weighing consequences, Dr. Parr, in a private communication with the boy’s father, advised him “to withdraw his son from a situation, in which it was evidently impossible he should continue.” This, in all probability, was the real injury, “in-

1 Odium in longum jaciens.

2 Monthly Review, February, 1818.

calculable,” as Mr. Beloe is pleased to call it, which he so long and so deeply resented. But, even in this case, “what best is, he takes the worst to be.” For praise, surely, rather than blame, in this affair, attaches to the master of Stanmore School. The order and the harmony of the little community, over which he presided, was seriously disturbed by the bad temper, or bad conduct, of one individual: the removal of that individual became therefore necessary; and the measure, which necessity required, with the kindest consideration for him, was carried into effect in the manner least likely to be offensive to his feelings or injurious to his reputation. And yet it was for this, it should seem, that Mr. Beloe felt no regret, whilst living, no remorse, when dying, to leave behind him a public avowal of enmity long masked under the appearance of friendship—a confession of secret grudge, constantly cherished towards the person whose kindness he scrupled not to ask and to accept, so long as it was wanted; but whose feelings he hesitated not to insult, and whose character to vilify, when that kindness was wanted no longer!

Soon after leaving Stanmore, under these discreditable circumstances, Mr. Beloe went to Cambridge, and was admitted at Bennet College. But, even here, so great were the faults of his temper, that, as he himself relates, in no long time he was proscribed from all friendly intercourse with his fellow-collegians; or, to use his own expressive words, “he was avoided as a dangerous malignant.”1 Thus, left in a great measure to himself,

1 Beloe’s Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 34.

as he ingenuously confesses, he was permanently benefited; and by careful endeavours to improve his mind and to controul his temper, at length he recovered the good opinion he had lost. His abilities and his attainments were, unquestionably, very considerable: and nothing but his own perverseness of temper could have prevented him from receiving at first all those respectful attentions, in his college, which, he says, he obtained at last. In 1777 he gained the declamation-prize, with great honour; and, 1779, proceeded to his degree of A.B., at which time he was the senior member of the college.

Early in 1800, Mr. Beloe was chosen assistant teacher, under Dr. Parr, of Norwich School. Here he continued three years, “steadily performing the duties of his office:” and, with a look of complacency, and a manner of civility, but with no heart of love, holding daily communications with one, “to whom,” as he says, “the greatest scholars of the day bowed their heads; whose learning was alike various and profound; whose intellectual powers were bounded by no ordinary limits; whose conversation could not fail to be instructive; and whose friendship was by many considered as synonymous with patronage.”1—In that friendship, Mr. Beloe, at least, found patronage: and his present appointment as the first-fruits of it, he owed to the kind intercessions of one, whom living he hated, and dying he defamed.

In 1803 Mr. Beloe removed to London; and, within the space of a few years, he obtained the

1 Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 169.

mastership of Emanuel Hospital in Westminster, the vicarage of Eastham in Norfolk, the living of Allhallows, London Wall, and a prebendary, first of Lincoln, and afterwards of St. Paul’s, London. But the appointment, most of all agreeable to his wishes, that of under librarian to the British Museum, he soon lost, in consequence of some valuable articles being purloined, by a person whom he had permitted, too incautiously, to examine the books and drawings. Removing from the British Museum to Kennington, here he passed the remainder of his days; and here, April 11, 1817, he died.

Mr Beloe’s works are, a “Translation of Herodotus,” 4 vols. 8vo.—“A Translation of Aulus Gellius,” of which the long and the learned preface was furnished by Dr. Parr: and this is another instance of that kindness, which Mr. Beloe received without gratitude; or at least with gratitude, not powerful enough to subdue the resentful feelings, which he concealed and cherished in his mind, to the last moment of life. He was also one of the original projectors of the “British Critic;” and, in conjunction with Archdeacon Nares, conducted it to its forty-second number, when he resigned it to others. Here, also, he obtained much valuable assistance from Dr. Parr. “Anecdotes of Literature and Scarce Books,” was another considerable work; in which, however, Mr. Beloe promised more than he performed: and the public expectation was consequently much disappointed. To this catalogue remains to be added Mr. Beloe’s last work, “The Sexagenarian:” concerning which the first wish of all his best friends must have been, that it had never been written, and their second, that it had never been published. Though undoubtedly there are in it many interesting narrations, many pleasing anecdotes, many just and striking observations, and much easy and elegant writing: yet, as a whole, it must be marked and reprobated as “the annals of scandal:”1 and it is impossible to deny the truth that is mixed with the severity of the following report of it made by the public critics:—“It is a book which, for presumption, mistatement, and malignity, has rarely, within our knowledge, been exceeded, or even equalled.”2

If the account in the preceding paragraphs could not be written, without strong feelings of regret—it is with unalloyed sentiments of pleasure, that the writer proceeds to record, among the pupils of Dr. Parr, the honourable names of Nathaniel and Henry Alexander, and their cousin Monsey Alexander, nephew of James Dupré

1 “Beloe’s Sexagenarian.—Dr. Parr is compelled to record the name of Beloe as an ingrate and a slanderer. The worthy and enlightened Archdeacon Nares disdained to have any concern in this infamous work. The Rev. Mr. Rennel, of Kensington, could know but little of Beloe. But having read his slanderous book, Mr. Rennel, who is a sound scholar, an orthodox clergyman, and a most animated writer, would have done well not to have written a sort of postscript. From motives of regard and respect for Beloe’s amiable widow, Dr. Parr abstained from refuting Beloe’s wicked falsehoods; but Dr. Butler of Shrewsbury repelled them very ably in the Monthly Review. S. P.—Bibl. Parr. p. 393.

2 Monthly Review, February, 1818.

Alexander, governor of Bengal, afterwards created Earl of Caledon. The first, of whom Dr. Parr speaks, in his “Last Will,” as “his much-respected pupil,” is now the Lord Bishop of Down. The second, Henry, distinguished himself as a powerful speaker in the Irish House of Commons: and when that parliament was, under the lure of false or broken promises, cheated out of its existence, he was for some years chairman of the committee of ways and means, in the British House of Commons. Afterwards he was appointed colonial secretary at the Cape of Good Hope; and there, in 1817, he died. The third, Monsey, was the grandson of the celebrated and eccentric, Dr. Monsey, physician to Chelsea Hospital. He was a good scholar, particularly skilful in making Greek and Latin verses; and therefore much courted by the dull or idle boys of his class. His mental powers, as well as his literary acquirements were very considerable: and he had much of that love of disputation, and pertinacity of opinion, which distinguished his extraordinary grandfather; but united with little of his eccentricity, and with none of his severity of temper, or roughness of manner. After completing his education at Oxford, he entered into the clerical profession; and was appointed tutor to the present Earl of Bristol. Subsequently, he obtained a considerable living in Ireland: but, by a violent fever, caught in the zealous discharge of his parochial duties, he was carried off in 1795, in the 38th year of his age.

Among the Stanmorian scholars, deserving of honourable mention, were the three sons of the truly virtuous and religious Earl of Dartmouth, of whom Dr. Parr speaks in his “Last Will,” as “his honoured patron.” Alas! these three noble youths, the Honourable William, Charles and Heneage Legge, all perished, at no distant period after leaving Stanmore, in the ardent pursuit either of literary honour, or military glory. The first, of whom alone the writer is able more particularly to speak, was intelligent and accomplished; and excited, in a high degree, the hope that in him dignity of birth and station would be truly ennobled by virtuous and elevated character. His memory was honoured, by his affectionate and afflicted tutor, with a Latin inscription, engraven on his tomb in Switzerland; where he died, and was buried.

Two names of great respectability next occur, in those of Charles and James Graham, sons of the late excellent Dr. Graham, of Netherby, in Cumberland—whose ample fortune was devoted, in no scanty portion, to the noblest purposes of diminishing the ills of life, and increasing the sum of human happiness. He died early in 1782; and was followed to his grave, within only a few days, by the elder of his accomplished sons, just after his marriage, and at the moment of his accession to one of the largest estates in his native country. The survivor is the present Sir James R. Graham, Bart., the present member for Carlisle.

Martin Madan is another name, not unworthy to be recorded among the distinguished scholars of Stanmore. He was the son of the celebrated preacher at the Lock Hospital in London, who is well known to the public as the translator of Juvenal and Persius, and still more as the author of “Theliphthora,” in which, to the great scandal of the whole civilized and Christian world, the lawfulness of polygamy is maintained. His son, Martin, was a young man of genius, but cynical in his temper and eccentric in his conduct. He appeared with credit at the bar; and was the author of a periodical paper of some humour, entitled “The Traiteur.”

Of Dr. Thomas Monro, one of his highly-respected pupils, the learned preceptor has himself expressed all he thought, in a public discourse, delivered on one of the most interesting and important occasions of public charity, which occur in the metropolis. Having spoken of mental disease, as one of the most awful visitations of Providence, and, therefore, as one of the justest objects of human compassion, he thus proceeds, “Pardon me, my hearers, if, speaking upon this subject, I give vent to my feelings; and pay a just tribute of praise to the learning, wisdom, integrity, and humanity of that excellent person, who was once my scholar, and is now physician of your hospital.” On leaving Stanmore, at the end of 1776, Dr. Monro went to Oxford, and entered of Oriel College. Here, under the direction of his tutor, the late Provost, the Rev. Dr. Eveleigh, of whom he reverently speaks as a most excellent man, he pursued his studies with a view to the profession which he had chosen. Thence he removed to London, where he fixed his residence; and where, for the long space of forty years, he continued to practice in that profession, with great reputation and success. In 1820, he withdrew from his public duties; and is now living in retirement, at Bushey, near Watford, in Hertfordshire.

Three names next occur in the list, with which the writer has been furnished, worthy to be respectfully noticed among the Stanmorian scholars. The first is that of John Wright, whom Dr. Parr designates as “his learned and highly-esteemed pupil,” and who is the author of a volume of Latin poetry; the second, that of William Cuninghame, now of Enterkine, in North Britain, and the author of a work entitled the “Principles of the Constitution of Government;” and the third, that of Adam Askew, son of the celebrated Dr. Askew; to whom, as one of his earliest and best friends and patrons, Dr. Parr ever felt and acknowledged the most important obligations.

The catalogue of distinguished Stanmorian names is not yet closed. The following still remain to be added—alas! that the whole addition should be in the melancholy form of an obituary! Thomas Charles Fountayne, son of the Dean of York, who died, whilst pursuing his studies at Cambridge—George Downing, afterwards a conveyancer of eminence in London, who died from over-exertion, in discharging his duty as one of the Light-Horse Volunteers—Richard Birch, who held an honourable post at Bengal, where he died, a victim to the climate—Thomas Norbury Kirby, afterwards president of the council in his native island of Antigua; where he died full of honours, but not full of days—and Daniel Barwell, who, returning home from India, where he had acquired an ample fortune, was wrecked off the coast of Zealand; when, swimming with a valuable bulse of diamonds, his only remaining treasure, firmly grasped in the one hand, and stemming the waves with the other, he had nearly reached the shore; but being almost exhausted, he called for help to a Dutchman, who instantly rushed into the water, received from his out-stretched hand the diamonds, and then left him, unaided, to perish in the sea!

CHAPTER XXIII. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished scholars of Norwich School—Headley—Tweddell—Monro—C. J. Chapman—Maltby—Howes—Goddard—B. Chapman—Trafford Southwell—Sutcliffe, &c.

Of the pupils of Dr. Parr at Norwich, who afterwards rose to honourable distinction in the literary world, tenderly respectful is the mention due, in the first place, to the name of a young and an accomplished scholar—the late Henry Headley—in whom strength of understanding, refinement of taste, extended and various knowledge, combined with amiable and virtuous dispositions, and with correct and dignified conduct, to form a character, of which the intellectual and the moral excellence admirably supported and adorned each other.

His father, an intelligent clergyman, the faithful pastor of a retired village, who discerned the superiority of his son’s talents, sent him, at an early age, to Norwich School. Here he became a good, if not a great scholar; and hence, with a mind inspired with the love, and enriched with the stores of literature, he removed to Oxford. He entered of Trinity College; and regularly proceeded to his degree of A. B. Young as he was, he soon appeared as an author; and he had no cause, in the many pages which he wrote, to implore, in consideration of his youth, the indulgence of his readers. Even his first productions would stand the test of critical examination; and if such he was, in his youthful bloom, what would he not have been in the full maturity of age?

He was a contributor to a periodical work, on the plan of the Spectator, entitled, “Olla Podrida.” For several years he was a correspondent of the Gentleman’s Magazine; and gained much applause by an elegant volume of original poetry. But his fame chiefly depends upon his two volumes of “Select Beauties of Ancient English Poetry, with Remarks.” By these selections, he has opened to his countrymen a source of pleasing gratification, in the unaffected simplicity and the tender pathos of some of their earliest bards; and, in his own remarks, he has every where exhibited proofs of a pure taste and a discriminatory judgment. The first of his admired works he published, when he had just entered his twentieth year; and before he had completed his twenty-third, he was no more!—a short life, if estimated by the number of its days; but not so, if measured by progress in mental improvement and literary honour. “Quantum ad gloriam longissimum ævum peregit.”

He formed an attachment to a lady, in which his hopes were disappointed; and he afterwards married very unhappily. Whilst grief, from this twofold source, preyed upon his mind, he was attacked by pulmonary disease, to which he was constitutionally disposed. All the symptoms of a rapid decline soon appeared, and he was advised to try the effect of a warmer climate. He went abroad with the usual hope, and returned with the usual disappointment. His last illness was long and distressing; but he passed through the period of suffering, and closed it, with a happy tenor of mind—desirous of life, yet not fearful of death. At length the deciding moment came; and with meek submission of his own to a higher will, be resigned his mortal existence, November 16, 1788.

His memory has been fragrantly embalmed by the muse of Mr. Bowles; and the following sketch of his character is feelingly drawn by the pen of Mr. Beloe:—“Here let a tribute of the tenderest affection and respect be paid to the memory of one of those ‘bright gems,’ whose lustre was too soon (alas! how soon!) obscured in ‘the dark unfathomed caves’ of death. He, who employs the pen, in delineating his character, knew him in his boyish days; witnessed the earliest dawn of his genius; viewed his progress with delight and astonishment; occasionally aided his literary labours; remarked, also, with no common anguish, the approach of that incurable malady, which finally and abruptly hurried him to the grave.”1

A name of no faint lustre next appears on the list of Dr. Parr’s pupils, in that of the accomplished Tweddell.2 He was born, June 1, 1769, at Threepwood, near Hexham, in Northumberland; and was educated under the tuition, first of the Rev. Matthew Raine, at Hartforth School, in the

1 Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 172.

2 Pause on the tomb of him who sleeps within: Fancy’s fond hope, and Learning’s favourite child, Accomplished Tweddell! &c. Greece, a Poem by Wm. Haygarth, Esq. North Riding of Yorkshire; and afterwards of Dr. Parr, as the writer supposes, at Norwich. The rich endowments of the mind, committed to his charge, were early discovered, and skilfully cultivated, by the first of these excellent preceptors; and his plans were pursued and completed, with no less skilful care, by the second. Perfected in all the preparatory learning of Greece and Rome, Mr. Tweddell went to Cambridge, and entered of Trinity College. Here academic honours gathered thick around him; and within the short period of four years, he gained seven university, and three college prizes! The compositions, in Greek, Latin, and English, thus marked with pre-eminence, by the literary judges of Cambridge, when afterwards published, with the title of “Prolusiones Juveniles,” obtained the praises of all the eminent scholars, both of his own and of foreign countries. Leaving Cambridge, Mr. Tweddell entered himself a student of the Middle Temple; but soon relinquished the study of law for other pursuits, more agreeable to his wishes; and in the autumn of 1795, he set out on his foreign travels.

Having passed through several countries of Russia, Germany, and Switzerland, and visited some of the islands in the Archipelago, he arrived in Greece, and fixed his residence at Athens. Here, for four months, he was diligently occupied in exploring and in delineating, both with his pen and his pencil, the remains of art or science, to be found amidst its venerable ruins. It is impossible to look into the correspondence, published under the title of his “Remains,” without seeing every where displayed, the energies of a powerful, and reflecting mind, united with the sympathies of a benevolent and feeling heart; exquisite purity of literary, accompanied with no less purity of moral taste; an ardour panting equally after intellectual and virtuous excellence; and an uncommon capacity at once for that close and concentrated attention, which draws knowledge from books, and for that quick and varied observation, which collects it from the survey of men and things. But the hopes, which so much high promise had excited, were doomed to be mournfully disappointed. Returning to Athens, from a tour in Northern Greece, Mr. Tweddell was seized with a fever, common in that climate, which, on the fourth day, terminated fatally. He died July 25, 1779, and was buried in the Temple of Theseus, now converted into a Christian church.1 On a white marble stone, placed over his grave, is inscribed a “beautiful epitaph,” written in Greek by the Rev. Robert Walpole, of Canon Abbey, near Norwich.2 It was known that Mr. Tweddell had amassed large and valuable materials for publication; but, to the surprise and the regret of his friends and the public, all these disappeared, in a way, which has never yet been satisfactorily explained.

When intelligence of an event, so distressing to every lover of learning and the arts, first reached 1 ——— Rest, loved youth, In thine own Athens laid! Secure of fame While worth and science win the world’s applause. Wrangham’s “Holy Land,” a prize Poem.

2 See Tweddell’s Remains, p. 14.

him, Dr. Parr was at Cambridge: and in a letter to a common friend, dated November 19, 1799, he thus gives utterance to the deep-felt sense of his own loss, and to his sympathy with the deeper sorrows of others.—“Oh! Mr. Losh, my heart sank down within me, when I read the melancholy tale in a provincial newspaper; and I was quite unable to fix my thoughts steadily to the subject; and to believe an event, which, if true, must blast so many of my fairest prospects, in that portion of existence, which is reserved for me.”—“Soon after my arrival at Hatton, I will write a letter of consolation to the afflicted father. You may assure him, that no man ever esteemed his son more unfeignedly, ever respected him more deeply, ever loved him more fondly than myself. I cannot calculate my own loss: and in the sorrows of those, to whom he was so near, I sympathise with all my heart and all my soul.”

An honourable name to be recorded among the pupils of Dr. Parr—though the writer is doubtful whether at Stanmore or at Norwich—is that of Peregrine Dealtry, Esq. of Bradenham, near High Wycombe: of whom the following biographical Memoir was written by Dr. Parr himself:—

“He was the son of the late Dr. Dealtry of York, a physician highly esteemed by Boerhaave, to whom he had been pupil; and intimately acquainted with the late Mr. Mason, by whom his talents and virtues are recorded in a very elegant epitaph, which is engraven on Dr. Dealtry’s monument in York Cathedral.

“Mr. Dealtry was educated by the Rev. Dr. Parr; and from the time of his leaving school to the very hour of his death, lived with him, upon terms of the most sincere regard and most unbounded confidence.

“This excellent man was at Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, at the time of his decease, on the morning of Thursday, September I, 1814. He had complained of a slight indisposition, on the preceding evening; not of such a nature as to excite any serious concern in himself or his friends. But when his servant entered his chamber, on the following morning, he found him a corpse.

“Mr. Dealtry, who was usually mentioned among his numerous friends by the name of Perry Dealtry, was a gentleman of very amiable character. His manners were simple and unassuming, without the smallest foppery or parade. None of the varied lines of affectation, or of vanity, ever discoloured any part of his conduct. The good which he did, and he did much, was done without any view to publicity, or any of the common stimulants of ostentation. His mind had not been very laboriously cultivated; but he was far from being wanting in discrimination; and he possessed much sterling good sense, without any of the glitter of superior illumination. He never made any pretensions to literature; but in fact his knowledge was more extensive than it appeared to a casual observer; and his remarks often indicated sagacity, and reflection.

“He was a steady friend to civil and religious liberty; and in earlier life had mingled a good deal with men, whose politics were of a less sober temperament than his own. Mr. Dealtry loved liberty, as a practical good; in the enjoyment of which all orders of the state had a common interest. He could think for himself, and had opinions of his own; but he never evinced any narrow-minded antipathy to persons, whose sentiments were opposite to those, which he espoused. He could bear and forbear; hence his company was uniformly acceptable. His fortune was ample; and he knew how to observe the right medium between parsimony and extravagance. There was one virtue in which he particularly excelled, and it is not of every day’s occurrence in these times—this was hospitality. But he was not hospitable by fits, or for the occasional gratification of his own pride. His table, which was emblematical of his beneficent disposition, was never scantily supplied. There was always an abundance of viands, and of the best quality, without any profuseness or ostentation. No man was ever more happy to see his friends; no one entertained them, with more unfeigned cordiality. The stranger saw the good-humoured complacency of his host and soon felt himself at home, in his house. In short, he was a man made up, not of showy ingredients, but of all the bland elements. The several good qualities, which constitute a gentle master, a kind neighbour, a warm friend, and a tender relative, were his in no ordinary degree. And the tears which will bedew his grave, are those which are the constant homage of the heart to a character of genuine worth.”

Among the pupils of whom Dr. Parr often spoke with much affectionate esteem, was the Rev. Thomas Monro, nephew of the late and cousin of the present eminent physician of that name;—a name, the honours of which he has himself well supported, though in a different profession,1 by his attainments and his virtues. “He was an admirable scholar,” says Mr. Beloe, “and the delight of all who knew him.”2 After completing his course of study, under his learned preceptor at Norwich, he went to Oxford, and was admitted of Magdalen college. He greatly distinguished himself, whilst at Oxford, by the share which he took in the “Olla Podrida,” a periodical work of considerable merit, before alluded to: of which a second edition appeared in 1788. His coadjutors in that work were Bishop Horne, Mr. Greaves, author of the Spiritual Quixote, Mr. Headley, Mr. Kett, and some others. With the ardent love of literature, it may seem strange to tell, that he united an almost equally ardent love of fox-hunting. To this last circumstance he probably owed his introduction to the friendly notice of Lord Maynard: by whom he was presented to the valuable rectory of Eyton Magna in Essex. Here he constantly resided; intermingling with the duties of the sacred office, and those of private tuition, the pursuits of useful and elegant literature.

Besides the contributions to the “Olla Podrida,” Mr. Monro is the author of the following works—“Essays on Various Subjects”—“Modern Britons”—“Spring in London”—and, in

1 Sexagenarian, vol. i. p. 181. 2 See page 414.

conjunction with Mr. Beloe, he gave to the English public a “Translation of the Epistles of Alciphron;” an ancient writer, of whom little is known; but whose work Mr. Monro pronounces to be “the production of an elegant mind and a vigorous imagination.”1

It is darkly and insidiously hinted, rather than fairly stated, by the “Sexagenarian,”2 who was then Dr. Parr’s assistant teacher at Norwich, that one of his pupils, in consequence of something in the treatment, which he received from his master, “at which his generous and manly mind revolted,” suddenly disappeared from school. The insinuation, there is too much room to apprehend, was “set down in malice:” it is, at least, entirely unsupported by fact, if the following statement, given on the high authority of Dr. Butler, is to be believed:—“The boy’s disappearance from school was owing to no previous cause of complaint whatever; but entirely to the persuasions of another, who was disposed to run away, and who wanted a companion. He soon returned; confessed his fault; was restored to his place without the slightest punishment; and ever afterwards proved himself a diligent, dutiful, and grateful pupil.” This youth, seriously wrong only in this one act, grew up into the wise and the virtuous man, and subsequently became the amia-

1 Another learned and sagacious critic seems to have estimated the merits of this work at a lower rate. “As an ancient writer, Alciphron deserves to be perused,” says Dr. Jortin; “but whoever expects much entertainment, will be disappointed.”

2 Vol. i. p. 180.

ble and exemplary clergyman. He respected and loved his master, as long as he lived; and owed to him, through the whole course of life, many important obligations, which he always felt and acknowledged. It can be no discredit to his memory, to add the name of the Rev. Thomas Monro.

Another of Dr. Parr’s much-esteemed pupils, and afterwards his friend and correspondent, was the late Rev. Charles John Chapman, B.D., who, for twelve years was the under minister, and for twenty-two years the upper minister of St. Peter’s Mancroft in Norwich. Benevolent in his heart, and upright in his conduct, mild in his temper, and amiable in his manners, he obtained, and he deserved, the respect blended with the love of all those, with whom he associated, or to whom he was known.

Faithful in the discharge of his clerical duties, he entitled himself to the esteem and the gratitude of his parishioners; who testified the just sense they entertained of his merits, by the unanimous choice, which raised him from the lower to the higher station in their church. Besides pecuniary contributions, his beneficence took the nobler form of personal services, directed to the interest of all the great public charities, established in the ancient city of which he was a denizen. All these owe to him obligations, which cannot easily be estimated, and will not soon be forgotten.

After finishing his studies, under the care of his learned preceptor, whom he ever revered as his friend, as well as his tutor, he went to Cambridge, and was admitted a member of Corpus Christi college. He took his degree of B.A. in 1789, and regularly proceeded M.A. and B.D. In 1792 he entered on the duties of his sacred office in Norwich; and to the good opinion of his fellow-townsmen he was indebted for the only preferment which he ever obtained. He died April 28, 1826, in the fifty-eighth year of his age.

On the list of Dr. Parr’s pupils, a distinguished name next occurs in that of he Rev. Edward Maltby—eminent as a scholar and as a divine; who has deservedly obtained high preferment in that church to which he belongs, and which be adorns. Of those, who have received the benefit of Dr. Parr’s instructions, it would be difficult to name any one, who has reflected upon him greater honour; and it will not be thought surprising that the mutual attachment of such a tutor and such a pupil, should have ripened into a sincere friendship, and constituted the source of mutual happiness through the course of life. Their views on all the great subjects of literature, morals, and theology, and of civil and ecclesiastical polity, very nearly assimilated; and, in the same noble spirit of religious liberality, both alike participated. Honoured with a token of remembrance, he is characterised in the “Last Will” of Dr. Parr, “as his beloved pupil and friend, the very learned Dr. Maltby.”

Of the valuable works, by which Dr. Maltby has already benefited the learned, and instructed the religious world, the principal are the following: A new edition, corrected and enlarged, of “Morell’s Lexicon Græco-Prosodiacum”—“Illustra-tions of the Truth of the Christian Religion”—“Sermons,” in 2 vols. 8vo.

Of the first of these, Dr. Parr often spoke in terms of high approbation, as a work of profound erudition, and of laborious investigation; in all respects worthy of his pupil, and which would not have been unworthy of himself.—Of the second, Dr. Parr once conveyed his opinion to the writer in nearly the following words: “What! have not you read Maltby’s Illustrations? Then get the book. You will be delighted with it. It is replete with sound learning, strong sense, and just reasoning. Its piety is pure, and its charity perfect. You will find your own friends treated, as they ought to be, with great respect, as good scholars and good Christians. Even the infidels are refuted, but never abused.”—Of the “sermons,” Dr. Parr considered the theology to be that of the English church, in its best times. There is in them, he said, no “evangelical mysticism”—no “methodistical jargon;” but all is pure Christianity, as it appeared to him, exhibited in all its beauty and all its energy. As compositions, he thought the style clear, vigorous, and impressive; though not often touched with pathos, yet always animated with the fervour of strong feeling, and with the eloquence of deep and solemn conviction. Upon the whole, it was his opinion, that the church has produced no sermons of superior, and few of equal, merit, since the days of Clarke, Sherlock, Jortin, and Balguy.

With the following short enumeration of some respectable names, which have come to the writer’s knowledge, the present account must close. The Rev. Francis Howes, author of a “Translation of Persius,” and of a volume of “Poetical Translations from various Grecian and Roman writers;” Rev. B. Chapman; Rev. L. Robinson; Rev. — Hasnall, Rev. — Sutcliffe, Sigismund Trafford Southwell, William Dalrymple, Thomas Norgate, Philip M. Martineau, and John Pitchford, Esqrs. Most of these are mentioned in Dr. Parr’s “Will,” “as his excellent pupils and friends,” to whom he bequeaths rings, “as a small token of his affectionate regard.”

CHAPTER XXIV. Biographical notices of some of the more distinguished of Dr. Parr’s pupils at Hatton—Thomas Sheridan—Smitheman—Bartlam—Lord Tamworth—Wilder—Lord Foley—George A. Legge—P. and W. Gell—Dr. Davy, &c.

In the list of Dr. Parr’s pupils at Hatton, brilliant is the name which first occurs in that of Thomas Sheridan, son of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and of his first wife the celebrated Miss Linley. In the expression of his face he much resembled his beautiful mother; and from his father, he inherited his talents, his versatility of temper, and indolence of habit. Like his father, too, he was noted for his love of fun and frolic, much to the annoyance of all, with whom he associated, or near whom he resided. Even his venerable tutor was not spared; and many a merry tale is told of the pranks, which he played off against him. But he loved his master too well, seriously to disturb his peace, or to distress his feelings. There was, indeed, no malignity in his mischief; and for any material injury which might result from it to others, he was always eager to offer ample reparation.

On leaving Hatton—distinguished, it may be supposed, more for his wit than his learning—more for the endowments with which nature had gifted him, than for those attainments which are the fruits of diligent application—after an interval of time, which seems not to have been well employed, he went to Cambridge. But here his stay was short. He soon entered into the army; and served as aide-de-camp to the Earl of Moira. Early in life he married a Scotch lady; and went, in the capacity of colonial paymaster, to the Cape of Good Hope. Here his house was the constant resort of jovial company; and by the brilliancy of his wit, and the powers of his conversation, he was the life of every party that met him, either at home or abroad. But the dreadful, malady, of which the seeds were implanted in his constitution, too soon began to show its alarming progress; and after a short struggle he sunk into his grave, in the prime of manhood, leaving a widow and two children.

The next is a name ever endeared to the tender and mournful recollection of Dr. Parr—John Smitheman; who, whilst he was pursuing his studies at Hatton parsonage, was suddenly seized with a violent distemper, which, after a short illness, brought him to his grave in the bloom of youth, March 25, 1794. “He had made something more than common proficiency in literature,” says Dr. Parr, in a short biographical memoir, “as will be readily admitted by those who are told that at the age of sixteen, he had read Juvenal and Persius, the orations of Aeschines, and Demosthenes de falsa Legatione and de Corona, the tragedies of Sophocles, and the odes of Pindar; and, as it was the intention of his instructor to lead him through the same course of study, when his intellectual faculties were still more matured, he would have been qua-lified to enter with advantage upon the more arduous pursuits of the university. To the greatest mildness of temper, and the most engaging suavity of manner, he joined a sound understanding and an honest heart. His life was unspotted with one vice; and his death, lamented as it is by his acquaintance, his friends, and his family, yet must be considered by the wise and the good, as an early and gentle wafting to immortality. The funeral was conducted with mournful solemnity. The pall was supported by a nobleman and five neighbouring gentlemen; and a sermon was preached on the occasion by the Rev. Mr. Morley. The tears of his comrades, his friends, and even the unlettered villagers, who attended the awful ceremony, were a more decisive and more honourable testimony to the virtues of this excellent young man, than the artificial and laboured language of panegyric.”

Another name, deeply engraven in the fond and grateful remembrance of Dr. Parr, is that of John Bartlam; for whom he has recorded his esteem and his affection, in the following biographical memoir:—

“He was born at Alcester, Warwickshire, in July, 1770. His maternal ancestors were members of the Church of England; his paternal, down to his grandfather, belonged to the Church of Rome. His father, with a well-cultivated understanding and polished manners, was admitted to an early intimacy with the late Marquis of Hertford; by whose kindness he was first appointed to a military, and afterwards to a civil employment. While he was pursuing his favourite amusement of fishing, in an arm of the sea near Orford in Suffolk, the boat was suddenly overset, and he was drowned, in the sight of his villa, leaving behind him a wife and three sons.

“After the decease of her beloved husband, Mrs. Bartlam fixed her abode at Alcester; where she received many courteous attentions, and many important services from the noble family at Ragley. Thomas, the eldest son, after a short stay, as colleger, at Eton, was removed to Rugby school; where his brothers, Robert and John, had been placed, under the care of the late Dr. James, who had meritoriously introduced the Eton plan of instruction; and thus laid the foundations of all the celebrity which that seminary afterwards acquired, and now deservedly retains. In the winter of 1786, he had the misfortune to be in the number of those boys who, in consequence of disobedience, were sent away.

“Hearing that his case was accompanied with many circumstances of mitigation, Dr. Parr made some inquiries into his general character; and finding that he was a good scholar, and had stood high in the esteem of his master, the Doctor applied for permission to take him as a pupil. The request was granted; and Mr. Bartlam came to Hatton, where he had comfortable lodgings in the village, and received the same instruction that was given to the other pupils of Dr. Parr. His application there was diligent; his classical learning was considerable; and his good behaviour and good nature so endeared him to the Doctor, as to produce a friendship, which continued to the end of his life.

“Mr. B. entered as commensalis of Merton college, May 16, 1789; was elected portionist, April 26, 1790; took the degree of B.A. February 13, 1793; gained the Chancellor’s prize for the English essay, 1794; was elected Fellow of Merton, August 3, 1795; took the degree of M.A., May 25, 1796; was pro-proctor, 1805; and, in the absence of the senior proctor, who was confined by illness, Mr. Bartlam delivered a very elegant speech in Latin.

“In the year 1797, Mr. Bartlam was presented to the perpetual curacy of Tetenhall, Staffordshire, by Sir John Wrottesley; and ten years after he resigned it, when the brother of Sir John was of proper age to be his successor. In January, 1800, he was presented to the vicarage of Beoley, in Worcestershire, by Mr. Holmes, and to the curacy of Studley, by Mr. Knight of Barrels, in Warwickshire. October the 1st, 1811, he was presented, by the warden and fellows of Merton College, Oxford, to the vicarage of Ponteland, in Northumberland.

“When his attention was called to business by a sense of duty, he was acute without artifice, and active without selfishness. While he filled the office of bursar, in Merton college, he increased the revenues of the society, by judicious improvements in the method of letting leases; and, while incumbent of Studley, he exerted himself strenuously and successfully in founding a parochial school. At Hatton, he was often employed by Dr. Parr as an amanuensis; and by these means he not only increased his stock of know-ledge, but acquired a copious, correct, and often beautiful style in the English tongue. His letters to numerous correspondents, and his more elaborate writings for the pulpit, abound with proofs of his erudition and his ingenuity.

“Bartlam’s perception of beauties, in prose and verse, was quick and lively; his memory was retentive; his flow of. words, both in writing and speaking, was ready and copious; and his delivery, in addressing either an enlightened Or promiscuous audience, was distinct, without ostentatious precision; animated without noisy vehemence,1 or serious without “austere sanctimony.”1 Hence his talents and his literary attainments procured for him the honourable distinction—“laudari a laudatis viris;”2 and among them may be classed Dr. Cornwall, the venerable Bishop of Worcester; Lord Holland; Sir Charles Monk; the late Dr. Charles Burney; his excellent son, now living; Mr. Nichols, the intelligent and well-known conductor of the Gentleman’s Magazine; Mr. E. H. Barker, the editor of Henry Stephens’ Thesaurus; Mr. Archdeacon Butler, the editor of Æschylus; Dr. Edward Maltby, the editor of Morrel’s Thesaurus; Dr. Symmons, the ingenious biographer of Milton, and translator of Virgil; his son, John Symmons, who, like Richard Porson, is a prodigy in extensive reading, never-failing memory, and skilful application; the eloquent and philosophical Robert Fellowes; the sagacious and learned Wm.

1 Vid. Nævius in Hectore, and Cicero, lib. vi. Familiar. Epist. 12.

2 Vide Shakspeare.

Lowndes, of Gray’s Inn; the very learned Samuel Blomfield, who has long been preparing an edition of Thucydides; the celebrated Mr. Crowe, public orator at Oxford; and that most profound scholar and exemplary Christian, Dr. Martin Routh, president of Magdalen College.”

“Such are the excellent contemporaries, by whom John Bartlam was deservedly respected for his talents. It is, however, to be lamented, that the luxuries of taste, which were always within his reach, decoyed him from the toil of study; and that a consciousness of ability to gain more knowledge, soothed him into content with that, which he had already gained. In his political and religious creeds, he was much influenced by the precepts and the example of his instructor. Shunning all extravagant and visionary notions about government, he was a steady advocate for constitutional liberty; and by the natural ardour and benevolence of his mind, he was led to be a zealous champion in the sacred cause of toleration. Wheresoever he discerned intellectual and moral excellence, his head and his heart led him to do homage to the possessors; nor did he stop to inquire whether they were Non-Episcopalians or Episcopalians, Homousians or Unitarians, Lutherans or Calvinists, Protestants or Romanists; At the same time, he was most sincerely, and even affectionately attached to the interests and honour of the Established Church. By the advice, and according to the practice of his preceptor, he weighed attentively and impartially all argumentative discussions upon the merits of that church in doctrine or discipline; but his indignation kindled, when those doctrines or that discipline were assailed by vulgar raillery, or sectarian virulence. In the discharge of his pastoral duties, he was most exemplary. He was ever ready to relieve the wants of his parishioners, to heal their disputes, to enlighten their understandings, and encourage their virtues. Perhaps few human beings have passed from the cradle to the grave with less annoyance from the soreness of vanity, the restlessness of ambition, or the corrosions of envy. Unlike Carazan,1 “who was known to every man; but by no man saluted.” Bartlam, whether going to the sanctuary or the banquet, was greeted with a smile on every countenance; and every voice of the poor, as he passed onward, was raised, in supplication for his health and his happiness. Long, indeed, will he be remembered with esteem, affection, and gratitude, by the inhabitants of Alcester, Studley, Beoley, and many neighbouring parishes.”

“From the late Marquis of Hertford he received occasional acts of courtesy; and there is reason to believe that he would have been honoured with patronage from the present Marquis, who discerned clearly, and estimated justly, his solid merit, as a man of letters, as a gentleman, and an enlightened, faithful teacher of religion. The sweetness of his temper, and the vivacity of his conversation, procured for him many well-wishers, and many admirers, in the higher classes of society. Bartlam, in his ordinary intercourse with the world,

1 Vide the Adventurer, No. 132.

was unaffecting, unassuming, undesigning; and, in domestic life, he often recalled to the mind of the observer a beautiful passage in Horace, Vivet extento Proculeius revo, Notus in fratres animi paterni.1

“To his surviving brother, the precentor of Exeter, and to his preceptor and guide, Dr. Parr, the loss of a companion so amiable and a friend so faithful is irreparable.

“This excellent man died in London of an apoplexy, Thursday, February 27. He was interred in the church of Alcester, on Friday, the 7th of March, in the same vault with his late worthy brother, Robert. His funeral was conducted with great solemnity; and his remains were accompanied to the grave by his brother, the precentor of Exeter, by the Hon. Mr. Eardley, by the Rev. Dr. Vaughan of Merton, by Dr. Parr, by Dr. John Johnstone, and by many respectable gentlemen and clergymen in the neighbourhood of Alcester.”

In the course of the same year, Dr. Parr had to lament the loss of two of his much-esteemed friends and pupils, who had pursued their studies nearly at the same time, at Hatton. The one was Lord Viscount Tamworth, eldest son of Earl Ferrers, who died in the month of June, 1824. The other was Sir Francis John Wilder, Knt., who, in three successive parliaments, was chosen representative for the borough of Arundel. Early in life he entered into the army; and passed through the

1 Lib. ii. Od. 2.

various gradations of rank, till, in 1821, he was promoted to that of lieutenant-general. He died at the Manor House, Binfield, in Berkshire, January 23, 1824.

Two names of noble families are next to be recorded in the number of Dr. Parr’s pupils at Hatton. One, that of Thomas Lord Foley; and the other, that of the Hon. and Rev. Archdeacon Legge, of whom Dr. Parr thus speaks: “as my friend, as a well-bred gentleman, and a pupil, well-informed ecclesiastic, he is entitled to my warmest regards.”

Honourable mention is due to the names of Philip Gell, Esq., a few years ago high-sheriff for the county of Derby; and of his brother, Sir William Gell, who is well known to the public as the chamberlain to her late Majesty, Queen Caroline, in her travels abroad, and as her faithful adherent during her cruel persecutions at home. Furnished with all the stores of classical and elegant literature, he went to Cambridge, and became a member of Jesus College, and afterwards a fellow of Emanuel College. Stimulated by a rational and dignified curiosity, much to be commended in the young and the wealthy, he set out, in 1802, on his foreign travels; and particularly devoted his attention to the investigation of the classic ground of Phrygia Minor. The work, which he afterwards presented to the literary world, entitled “The Topography of Troy and its vicinity, illustrated by Drawings and Descriptions,” is most splendid and elegant. It is said that the outlines of the views and the descriptions are minutely correct, and that the general resemblance to the places and the objects represented is exact and striking.1

Among the more distinguished names of Hatton scholars, the following remain to be added:—Dr. Davy, master of Caius College, Cambridge—the Rev. William Philips, of Ealing, Hants—the Rev. Samuel Hemming, of Drayton, Warwickshire—Dr. Perkins—Robert J. West, of Alscote, Esq.—George Newnham Collingwood, of Moor-House, Hawkhurst, Kent, Esq.—Hon. William Spencer, author of Leonora, and other works of fancy—Richard Parry, Esq. of London—Henry Oddie, Esq.—Francis Hargrave, Esq.

1 “The ‘Remains of Troy’ were given me by my very ingenious pupil, Sir William Gell; and the book is in all respects worthy of his acuteness, erudition, and taste. S. P.”—Bibl. Parr. p. 347.

CHAPTER XXV. Various characters written by Dr. Parr—Hooker—Meric Calaubon—Bentley—Edwards—Helvetius—Mandeville and Rousseau—Three furred manslayers—Jortin—Leland—Homer—Lunn.

Hooker.—The names which learned men bear for any length of time, are usually well founded. If Duns Scotus was justly called “the most subtle doctor,” Roger Bacon “the wonderful,” Bonaventure “the seraphic,” Aquinas “the universal and evangelical,” surely Hooker has, with equal, if not superior justice, obtained the name of “the judicious.” Bishop Lowth, in the preface to his English Grammar, has bestowed the highest praise upon the purity of Hooker’s style. Bishop Warburton, in his book on the Alliance between the Church and State, often quotes him, and calls him “the excellent, the admirable, the best good man of our order.”1

Meric Casaubon entered at Christ Church: he soon became a student there; he took both his degrees in arts; he published several useful works in literature and theology; he was preferred by Archbishop Laud; he was created doctor in divinity by the order of Charles I. Though deprived of his livings, he refused to accept any

1 Spital Sermon, p. 63.

employment under Cromwell; when an immediate present of nearly four hundred pounds, an annual pension of three hundred pounds, and the valuable books of his father, which had been purchased by James I., and then deposited in the royal library, were proffered to him at different times. He recovered his ecclesiastical preferment, after the Restoration: he lived prosperously, and studied diligently, till he had reached his seventy-second year; and by his learning, affability, charity, and piety, he proved himself worthy of all the attentions which had been shown to him, by the parent who loved him, the university which had educated him, and the princes who had succoured him.1

Bentley.—The memory of Bentley has ultimately triumphed over the attacks of his enemies, and his mistakes are found to be light in the balance, when weighed against his numerous, his splendid, and matchless discoveries. He has not much to fear, even from such rivals in literary fame as Cunningham, Baxter, and Dawes. He deserved to obtain, and he has obtained, the honourable suffrages of kindred spirits—a Lennep, a Ruhnken, a Hemsterhuis, and a Porson. In fine, he was one of those rare and exalted personages, who, whether right or wrong in detached instances, always excite attention, and reward it—always inform, where they do not convince—always send away their readers with enlarged knowledge, with animated curiosity, and with

1 Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 119.

wholesome exercise to those habits of thinking, which enable them, upon maturer reflection and after more extensive inquiry, to discern and avoid the errors of their illustrious guide.1

Edwards.—About eighteen years ago I read Mr. Edwards’ “Enquiry into the modern prevailing Notions of the Freedom of Will,” &c.; and I afterwards lent it to a learned friend, whom it completely detached from the common opinions, or, perhaps, I should rather say, from the popular language of men, upon a subject over which the ferrum λογομαχίας has been, and hereafter will be drawn, again and again. Charmed as I was with the metaphysical acuteness and the fervent piety of the writer, I became very desirous to read his Dissertations “Concerning the end for which God created the World, and the Nature of true Virtue.” I met with them about the year 1790; and I found in them the same romantic imagination, the same keen discernment, the same logical subtilty, and the same unextinguishable ardour. Mr. Edwards is a writer who exercises our minds, even where he does not satisfy them; who interests us, where he does not persuade; who instructs and improves us, where he does not ultimately convince.2

Helvetius.—Doubtless, his perspicuity, his vivacity, his facility in gliding through the mazes of metaphysics, and his unrelenting hostility against

1 Critique on the Variorum Horace, in the British Critic, 1794, p. 423.

2 Spital Sermon, Notes, p. 76.

the usurpations, of what he calls, “prejudice,” will always secure him a numerous class of readers. The chief faults which I observe in his writings, as compositions, are, a looseness of arrangement, which sometimes slackens the attention, and sometimes bewilders the judgment of his readers; a fondness for multiplying narratives, which frequently interrupts the continuity of his reasoning; and a wantonness in scattering witticisms, which are often not well suited to the importance of his subjects. In his work upon education, however, he has completely refuted the captivating, but most pernicious paradoxes of Rousseau: and to his “Essay on the Mind,” though deeply tinged with hatred of priesthood, and lavishly decked with trappings of infidelity, I cannot refuse the praise of brilliant genius, and of benevolence, which, however romantic and ill-directed, I dare not pronounce insincere.

Mandeville and Rousseau. In Mandeville there is but little room for praise: he has a shrewdness and he has vivacity; but his shrewdness degenerates into sophistry, and his vivacity into petulance. His eye is fixedly bent on the darker parts of human character. He seems to take a malignant pleasure in dragging to light what prudence and candour would induce us to conceal; and by the horrid features of exaggeration, in which he paints the vices of his species, he produces a sickness of temper, a secret and restless spirit of incredulity, when for a moment he twists our attention to a contemplation of their virtues.

But in Rousseau there are brighter talents and more amiable qualities. He was himself benevolent; and, upon the minds of others, he inculcated that benevolence, which he loved. He admired virtue in some of her most noble forms; and has displayed her with a splendour, which enraptures the imagination, and warms the heart. Dangerous as I think the tendency of his general system, I am not totally destitute of taste to discern, of sensibility to feel, and of justice to acknowledge, his moral and his intellectual excellencies. But these excellencies may stamp an unjust and fatal authority upon his errors. As an inquirer therefore after truth, and as a friend to religion, I cannot applaud the one without lamenting the other. Fictitious representations of what is praiseworthy are useful, I confess, for preparing the mind of man to act in real life. Yet fiction itself has boundaries, which sound and sober sense has a right to prescribe, but which the acuteness of feeling, and the vigour of fancy, in lieu of genius, are apt to overleap. After repeated—after serious, I am sure, and, I hope, after impartial perusal of his celebrated work, I think the scenes romantic, and the tendency on the whole very pernicious, in the mixed condition of the world, and amidst the mixed characters of those, who form the mass of mankind. The readers, who cannot discriminate, will assuredly be misled; and when admiration overpowers the judgment in persons of a better class, the inclination and the power to discriminate are too often lost. Many of the circumstances which he has supposed will rarely exist; and in those which do exist, his representation of them will flatter the vain, misguide the unwary, and perplex even the virtuous.1

Three Characters, evidently intended for three late judges, whom Dr. Parr entitled the Three Furred Manslayers.

With learning, taste, and genius, which adorned the head, but improved not the heart, one of them was a sober, subtle, inexorable interpreter and enforcer of sanguinary statutes. With a ready memory, keen penetration, barren fancy, vulgar manners, and infuriate passion, another indulged himself in the gibberish of a canting fanatic, and the ravings of an angry scold, before trembling criminals. With sagacity enough to make the worse appear the better cause to superficial hearers, and with hardihood enough not to express much concern for the bodies of men, or their souls, the third carried about him an air, sometimes of wanton dispatch, and sometimes of savage exultation, when he immolated hecatombs at the altar of public justice. Armed with “giant strength,” and accustomed to use it “like a giant,” these protectors of our purses transferred to thievery that severity, which the court of Areopagus employed only against cut-throats, and they did so where judges were not bound by a peculiar, direct, and sacred oath, adapted to the peculiar character of the tribunal, and where offenders had not the chance, as among the Athenians, of a more favourable issue from appeals to Thesmothetæ; nor that privilege of

1 Discourse on Education, p. 71.

going before trial into voluntary exile, which, on the first institution of this court, had been granted to them by legislators, who, ειθ ηρωες ησαν ει τε θεοι ουχ επέθεντο τοις ατιχήμασιν, αλλ΄ ανθρωπίνως επε χούϕισαν, εις οσον ειχι χαλως, τας συμφοράς.

If a Βωμος Έλέου, like that at Athens, had been placed in the avenue to our English courts, these διχασπόλοι ανδρες would have differed from each other in their outward demeanour, and yet would have remained equally guilty of “bearing the sword in vain.” Elaphocardius, upon approaching the hallowed spot, might have paused for a second, winced under a slight stroke of rebuke from the monitor within, and quietly sneaked by on the other side. Cardamoglyphus would have wrung his hands, lifted up his eyes to heaven, implored forgiveness to himself as a miserable sinner, and before sunset would have boasted of “not being as other men are,” regraters, sabbath-breakers, libertines, and more especially, as that execrable criminal who stood before him at the bar. But the steps of Cynopes would not have been turned aside to the right hand or to the left; his eye would have darted upon the emblems of the altar with a glare of fierce disdain; he would negligently have swept the base of it with the skirts of his robe; he would have laughed inwardly at the qualms of one of his compeers, and scoffed without disguise at the mummeries of the other. Happily these arbiters of life and death are now no more; they have left an example not very likely to be imitated by their venerable successors; and my hope is, that the mercy which they showed not to others in this World, may, in another world, be shown to them.1

Jortin.—As to Jortin, whether I look back to his verse, to his prose, to his critical, or to his theological works, there are few authors, to whom I am so much indebted for rational entertainment, or for solid instruction. Learned he was, without pedantry. He was ingenious, without the affectation of singularity. He was a lover of truth, without hovering over the gloomy abyss of scepticism; and a friend to free inquiry, without roving into the dreary and pathless wilds of latitudinarianism. He had a heart, which never disgraced the powers of his understanding. With a lively imagination, an elegant taste, and a judgment most masculine and most correct, he united the artless and amiable negligence of a schoolboy. Wit without ill-nature, and sense without effort, he could, at will, scatter upon every subject; and in every book, the writer presents us with a near and distinct view of the real man. His style, though inartificial, is sometimes elevated; though familiar, it is never mean; and though employed upon various topics of theology, ethics, and criticism, it is not arrayed in any delusive resemblance, either of solemnity, from fanatical cant; of profoundness, from scholastic jargon; of precision, from the crabbed formalities of cloudy philologists; or of refinement, from the technical babble of frivolous connoisseurs.

At the shadowy and fleeting reputation, which

1 Characters of Fox, Notes, p. 344.

is sometimes gained by the petty frolics of literary vanity, or the mischievous struggles of controversial rage, Jortin never grasped. Truth, which some men are ambitious of seizing by surprise in the trackless and dark recess, he was content to overtake in the broad and beaten path: and in pursuit of it, if he does not excite our astonishment by the rapidity of his strides, he, at least, secures our confidence by the firmness of his step. To the examination of positions advanced by other men, he always brought a mind, which neither prepossession had seduced, nor malevolence polluted. He imposed not his own conjectures, as infallible and irresistible truths, nor endeavoured to give an air of importance to trifles, by dogmatical vehemence. He could support his more serious opinions, without the versatility of a sophist, the fierceness of a disputant, or the impertinence of a buffoon: more than this—he could relinquish or correct them with the calm and steady dignity of a writer, who, while he yielded something to the arguments of his antagonists, was conscious of retaining enough to command their respect. He had too much discernment to confound difference of opinion with malignity or dulness, and too much candour to insult, where he could not persuade. Though his sensibilities were neither coarse nor sluggish, he yet was exempt from those fickle humours, those rankling jealousies, and that restless waywardness, which men of the brightest talents are too prone to indulge. He carried with him, into every station into which he was placed, and every subject which he explored, a solid greatness of soul, which could spare an inferior, though in the offensive form of an adversary, and endure an equal with, or without, the sacred name of friend. The importance of commendation, as well to him who bestows, as to him who claims it, he estimated not only with justice, but with delicacy, and therefore, he neither wantonly lavished it, nor withheld it austerely. But invective he neither provoked nor feared; and, as to the severities of contempt, he reserved them for occasions where alone they could be employed with propriety, and where, by himself, they always were employed with effect—for the chastisement of arrogant dunces, of censorious sciolists, of intolerant bigots in every sect, and unprincipled impostors in every profession. Distinguished in various forms of literary composition, engaged in various duties of his ecclesiastical profession, and blessed with a long and honourable life, he nobly exemplified that rare and illustrious virtue of charity, which Leland, in his reply to the Letter-writer, thus eloquently describes:—“Charity never misrepresents; never ascribes obnoxious principles or mistaken opinions to an opponent, which he himself disavows; is not so earnest in refuting, as to fancy positions never asserted, and to extend its censure to opinions, which will perhaps be delivered. Charity is utterly averse to sneering, that most despicable species of ridicule, that most detestable subterfuge of an impotent objector. Charity never supposes, that all sense and knowledge are confined to a particular circle, to a district, or to a country. Charity never condemns and embraces principles in the same breath; never professes to confute, what it acknowledges to be great; never presumes to bear down an adversary with confident assertions. Charity does not call dissent insolence, or the want of implicit submission a want of common respect.”1

Leland.—Of Leland my opinion is not, like the Letter-writer’s, founded upon hearsay evidence, nor is it determined solely by the great authority of Dr. Johnson, who always mentioned Dr. Leland with cordial regard and marked respect. It might, perhaps, be invidious for me to hazard a favourable decision upon his “History of Ireland,” because the merits of that work have been disputed by critics, some of whom are, I think, warped in their judgment by literary, others, by national, and more, I have reason to believe, by personal prejudices. But I may with confidence appeal to his writings, which have long contributed to public amusement, and have often been honoured by public approbation—to the “Life of Philip,” and to the translation of Demosthenes, which the Letter-writer professes to have not read: to the judicious “Dissertation upon Eloquence,” which the Letter-writer did vouchsafe to read, before he answered it: to the spirited defence of that Dissertation, which the Letter-writer probably has read, but never attempted to answer. The “Life of Philip” contains many curious researches into the principles of government established amongst the leading states of Greece:

1 Tracts by Warburton and a Warburtonian, p. 194.

many sagacious remarks on their intestine discords: many exact descriptions of their most celebrated characters, together with an extensive and correct view of those subtle intrigues, and those ambitious prospects, by which Philip, at a favourable crisis, gradually obtained an unexampled and fatal mastery over the Grecian republics. In the translation of Demosthenes, Leland unites the man of taste with the man of learning, and shows himself to have possessed not only a competent knowledge of the Greek language, but that clearness in his own conceptions, and that animation in his feelings, which enabled him to catch the real meaning, and to preserve the genuine spirit, of the most perfect orator Athens ever produced. Through the Dissertation upon Eloquence, and the Defence of it, we see great accuracy of erudition, great perspicuity and strength of style, and, above all, a stoutness of judgment, which in traversing the open and spacious walks of literature, disdained to be led captive, either by the sorceries of a self-deluded visionary, or the decrees of a self-created despot.”

Henry Homer was born in 1751, and was the eldest of seventeen children. His father, the Rev. Henry Homer, was rector of Willoughby, in Warwickshire. He was sent at the age of seven to Rugby School; and became, at the end of seven years, the head boy of sixty. The celebrity of that school, then under the care of the Rev. Mr. Burrows, was not so great, nor the plan of education pursued in it so elegant and compre-

1 Tracts by Warburton and a Warburtonian, p. 193.

hensive, as we have seen them, under the auspices of the very learned Dr. James. Yet Mr. Burrows possessed, as I am told, very sound understanding, and a very respectable share of erudition: the progress which Mr. Homer made under him was such as to do credit to the abilities of the teacher, and the diligence of the scholar. From Rugby, Mr. Homer was removed to Birmingham School, where he remained three years more, under the care of the Rev. Mr. Brailsford, of whose talents, as an instructor, I cannot speak with precision. But of Mr. Price, his successor, I am warranted in saying that he is a man of very refined taste, and of learning more than common. As Mr. Homer had been the head boy of Rugby School, and as he continued three years at Birmingham, we may presume that he was, for that time, employed in reading some of the best classical authors.

“In November 1768, Mr. Homer was admitted of Emanuel College, Cambridge, under Dr. Farmer; and, in that college, I saw him, at a very early period of his academical life. The pleasantry and good sense diffused through his conversation, and perhaps the singularity of his name, attracted my attention; and produced an acquaintance, which soon grew into friendship. I will hazard the imputation of arrogance for saying that new incitements were given to his industry, and new prospects opened to his curiosity, by my well-meant advice. Mr. Homer proceeded regularly to his Bachelor’s degree in 1773, to his Master’s in 1776, to his Bachelor’s in Divinity in 1783. He had lived in Warwickshire, about three years before he became a fellow; and returned to the university soon after his election. He then resided much at Cambridge; where his mind was neither dissipated by pleasure, nor relaxed by idleness. He frequently visited the public library; and was well acquainted with the history, or contents, of many curious books, which are noticed only by scholars. Of the Greek language, he was by no means ignorant; though he did not profess to be critically skilled in it. He had read many of the Latin classical authors. About orthography he was very exact. He was not a stranger to many niceties, in the structure of the Latin tongue. He had turned his attention to several philological books of great utility and high reputation. He was well versed in the notes, subjoined to some of the best editions of various authors; and of his general erudition, the reader will form no unfavourable opinion, by looking at a catalogue of the works, in which he was engaged.”—“Mr Homer knew how to adapt docility and firmness to different occasions. His friends he never teased, by impotent cavils and futile inquiries. He never attempted to show off his own powers, in that frivolous jargon, or that oracular solemnity, which I have now and then observed in persons, who prated yesterday, as they prate today, and will prate to-morrow, about subjects, which they do not understand. Such is my opinion of Mr. Henry Homer. He, to my knowledge, had fed on the dainties that are bred in a book. He had eaten paper, as it were, and drunk ink. His intellect was replenished.

“As the merits of Mr. Homer stand at this moment in full view before my mind, I will turn my attention towards some points in Mr. Homer’s conduct which have ever fixed him in my esteem; and which, in the judgment of all good men, will do honour to his independence and integrity.

“Mr. Homer, in consequence of some religious scruples, refused to take priest’s orders; when, by the statutes of the founder he was required to take them, in order to preserve the rank he had attained in college. From a senior fellow he became a junior; and after various negotiations his fellowship was declared vacant, on the 20th June, 1788. The first intelligence I had of this affair, was sent me by a common friend; and, sure I am, no man living could have been more surprised and afflicted than I was, upon receiving it. I wrote to Mr. Homer several letters of sympathy and counsel. I asked about the unknown cause—I deprecated the probable consequence, but to no purpose—for his answers were short and sharp; evidently intended to check inquiry and to avert expostulation. When I afterwards saw him in London, I twice resumed the subject; and spoke with that mixture of delicacy and earnestness, which was adapted to the difficulties of his situation, and the exquisiteness of his feelings. Twice he repelled and silenced me, by declaring that his conduct was the result of long and serious deliberation; that his mind was made up to all possible inconveniences; and that the interposition of his friends would answer no other purpose, but that of irritation.

“Knowing that enlightened and amiable men are sometimes hurried into rigorous proceedings by their political zeal; I for a long—yes—a very long time—had painful doubts, whether Mr. Homer had been perfectly well used. But after strict and repeated inquiry, I was convinced, thoroughly convinced, that my friend had met with fair, and, from some quarters, most indulgent treatment; and that, in a case so very notorious, the statutes left no power of mitigation whatever, in the hands either of the fellows or the master. Mr. Homer persisted in obeying the dictates of his conscience; and the members of the college were compelled to act under the direction of their statutes, and by the force of their oaths.

“Though I collected from the general conversation of Mr. Homer that he was not adverse to a partial and temperate reform of the Church of England; yet, in no one moment of the most private and confidential intercourse, did he open to me his doubts, upon any particular subject of doctrine. When I was talking to him about the events, which had recently passed in college, he, for the first time, told me, that, many years before, he stood aloof from some preferment, which, in all probability, was within his reach; and that he had taken an unalterable resolution of not accepting any living, either from private patrons, or from any academical society. The reasons, upon which that resolution was founded, he did not reveal to me: nor did I think myself authorised to investigate them. But I ever have honoured, and ever shall honour, so much moderation, mixed with so much firmness. He never indulged himself in pouring forth vague and trite declamation, against the real or supposed errors of churchmen. He never let loose contemptuous and bitter reproaches against those, who might differ from him, upon speculative and controversial topics of theology. He remained a quiet, and, I doubt not, a sincere conformist within the pale of the establishment, after renouncing all share of its profits, and all chance of its honours. On this rare and happy union of integrity and delicacy, panegyric were useless. They who read of his conduct will approve of it; and, among those who approve, some wise and virtuous men may be found, whom his example may encourage to imitate. In praising Mr. Homer, I mean not to censure some enlightened and worthy contemporaries, who, from motives equally pure, may not have pursued the same measures. The propriety of continuing in the church, as he continued, will depend upon personal circumstances, which will be different, with different men, and upon general principles, about which the best scholars and the best Christians of this age are not wholly agreed.

“From the quickness of Mr. Homer’s temper, and perhaps of my own, we now and then wrangled, in our conversation, and in our letters. But the effects of these little altercations were temporary: and I feel the very highest and purest satisfaction in being able to affirm that, from the commencement of my acquaintance with him, to the very latest hour of his life, we never had one serious dispute—one difference which sent us, with throbbing bosoms, to a restless pillow, for one night; or darkened our countenances with one frown, upon the succeeding day. Many and great were his exertions, in compliance with my requests, and for the management of my concerns. Many, too, are the thanks, which I returned to him; and many the services, which I endeavoured to render him.

“Mr. Homer, in his last illness, which took place early in 1791, had been for three or four weeks with his father in Warwickshire, before I knew that he was ill. But the very day after the evening, in which the intelligence reached me, I sent a special messenger, with a letter full of anxious and affectionate inquiry; and I received an answer, which I clasped to my bosom; and which I, at this moment, keep deposited among the most precious records of friendship. In a day or two, I hastened in person to his father’s house. With anguish of soul, I found my friend pale, emaciated, and sunk beyond the power of recovery. I talked to him with all the tenderness, which the sight of such a friend, in such a situation, could have excited in the most virtuous breast. I came away with a drooping head, and with spirits quite darkened by the gloom of despair. Again I hastened to see him, if the lamp of life should not be wholly gone out; and again I did see him, on the evening before his eyes were closed in death. With tears, not easily stifled, and with an aching heart, I accompanied his sad remains to the grave; and, in many a pensive mood, have I since reflected on the melancholy scene. Many a look of fondness have I cast upon his countenance, which meets me, in an excellent engraving, as I enter my study, each revolving day. Many an earnest wish have I formed, that my own last end may be like his—a season of calm resignation, of humble hope, and of devotion; at once rational, fervent, and sincere.”

Mr. Homer died of a rapid decline, May. 4, 1791, in the fortieth year of his age.1

Mr. Lunn resided, as a bookseller, at Cambridge, for ten years. In March, 1797, he came to London, and succeeded Mr. Samuel Hayes, in Oxford-street. On his removal into Soho-square, in 1801, he, by the advice of scholars, and with the approbation of friends, established the Classical Library upon a new and extensive plan. His views were announced in a perspicuous and even elegant advertisement; in which, with a tone of thinking far raised above the narrow and selfish views of a mind, intent only upon profit, he endeavoured to interest in his own favour such persons, as habitually look with veneration to the memory of Bentley, to the erudition of Hemsterhuis, and his illustrious school, and to the sagacity, taste, and learning, of our celebrated countryman, Richard Porson.

The whole of Mr. Lunn’s property was embarked in his trade; and, under circumstances more favourable, his accumulation must have been rapid. But he had to struggle with unusual and most stubborn difficulties. Insurances were high.—Goods were often delayed; for which Mr. Lunn had been obliged to pay before they reached him.

1 Answer to Combe’s Statement.

The course of exchange ran for many years against England; and the loss which Mr. Lunn sustained, from this cause, on the amount of the invoices, was sometimes twenty, sometimes twenty-five, and sometimes even thirty per cent. The sale of books, procured under these unavoidable and irremediable disadvantages, was in many instances slow and precarious. Mr. Lunn, like every other bookseller, was doomed to losses, from the inability of his employers to make their payments. He dealt with men, whose rank, whose delicacy, and, upon some occasions, whose poverty protected them from that importunity, with which the generality of tradesmen enforce their claims. He rarely expected immediate payment—he never demanded it—he allowed for it a reasonable discount; and in the mean time, for the support of his credit both at home and abroad, he was compelled to fulfil his own engagement without deduction, and without delay.

We have now to record the chief cause of those embarrassments, which disturbed his spirits, and shortened his existence. The return of peace, by opening a free communication with the continent, was beneficial to other traders, but most injurious to Mr. Lunn. They accumulated their stock, without the numerous impediments, which Mr. Lunn had encountered. They were exempt from many of those restrictions upon importation, to which Mr. Lunn had for many years been obliged to submit. They were able to buy, and therefore to sell, at a cheap rate those articles, for which Mr. Lunn had previously paid the foreigners a very high price. They purchased after a favourable alteration in the course of exchange, and with considerable diminution in charges for assurance.

Here follows the interesting passage already given before in this volume,1 and with some further particulars relative to the melancholy situation of Mr. Lunn’s family, the memoir closes.

1 P. 89.

APPENDICES.

I. Pedigree. II. Latin Epitaphs, &c. III. English Epitaphs. IV. Inscription on the Monument of the Rev. Robert Parr. V. Letter To Dr. Parr. VI. Inscription On A Piece Of Plate Presented By Lord Chedworth. VII. Humorous Letter of Mrs. Wynne. VIII. A Tribute of Respect to the Memory of Dr. Parr.

[Folding plate] APPENDIX, No. II. Joanni Lion, Prestoniæ in Parvecia Harroviensi Mortuo Sext. Non. Octobr. anno Christi mdxiii. Et in hac Ecclesia sepulto; Fundi domino cultorique Assiduo, frugi, probo, Sapienti sine via et arte, Et, quia bonis suis optime uti novit Unice fortunato; Scholæ impensis ejus extracts, Et ad pueros Græcis ac Latinis Literis Erudiendos institute, Gubernatores, magistri, atque alumni Hoc monumentum, collata pecunia, Ponendum curaverunt, Anno sacro m.dcccxv. In Harrow Church.

Thomæ Thackeray, S. T. P. Coll. Regal, apud Cantabr. olim Socio, Chisseliæ Parvæ atque Haydoniæ In agro Essexiensi Rectori, Frederico Principi Valliæ a Sacris, Archidiacono-Southriensi, Scholæ Harroviensis per xv. ann. Magistro, Viro integerrimo, sanctissiiuo, Et adjuventutem liberaliter erudiendam Studio optimarum artium et suavitate morum Egregie instructo; Qui, Conjuge sui amantissima Liberisque xiv. superstitibus, Decessit Londini vn. Cal. Octobr. Ann. Domini mdcclx. Ætatis lxvii. Et in sepulcreto hujus Ecclesiæ A latere Occidentali conditus est, Nepotes ejus Ll. M. hoc Monumentum posuerunt

Α Χ Ω Ricardus Farmer, S. T. P. Magister hujus Collegii, Vir facetus et dulcis festivique sermonis, Græce et Latiné doctus; In explicandâ veterum Anglorum Poesi Subtilis atque elegans; Academiæ Cantabrigiensis stabiliendæ Et amplificandæ studiosus, Regis et Patriæ amantissimus, Vixit ann. lxii. mens. iii. dies xiiij; Decessit sexto id. Septemb. Anno Domini mdcclxxxxvii; Et conditus est juxta aram vicini sacelli, In sepulchro, quod sibi vivus nuncupaverat. In the Cloisters of Emanuel College.

H. S. E. Robertus Sumner, S. T. P. Coll. Regal, apud Cantab, olim Socius; Scholæ Harroviensis haud ita pridem Archididascalus. Fuit huic prætantissimo viro Ingenium naturâ peracre, optimarum Disciplinis artium sedulo excultum, Usu diuturno contirmatum, et quodam Modo subactum. Nemo enim Aut in reconditis sapientiæ studiis illo Subtilior extitit, Aut humanioribus literis limatior. Egregiis cum dotibus naturæ, tum Doctrinæ præditus. Insuper accedebant, In sententiis, vera ac perfecta eloquentia; In sermone, facetiarum lepos, planè Atticus, Et gravitate insuper aspersa urbanitas; In moribus, singularis quædam Integritas et fides; Vitæ denique ratio constans sibi, et ad Virtutis normam diligenter Severèque exacta. Omnibus qui vel amico essent eo, Vel magistro usi, Doctrinæ, ingenii, virtutis justum reliquit desiderium, Subitâ, eheu! atque immatura morte Correptus, Prid. Id. Septemb. Anno Domini m,dcc,lxxi. Ætat. suæ xli. In Harrow Church, Middlesex.

Joanni Taylor, S. T. P. Langovici nato; Albi ostii, in agro Cumbriensi, Bonis disciplinis instituto; Norvici, exequendum munus Pastoris delecto a.d. mdccxxxiii. Rigoduni, quo in oppido, Senex quotidiæ aliquid addiscens, Theologiam et Philosophiam Moralem docuit; Mortuo Tert. Non. Mart. Anno Domini mdcclxi. Ætat. lxvi. Viro integro, innocenti, pio; Scriptori Græcis et Hebraicis literis Probe erudito; Verbi divini gravissimo interpreti; Religionis simplicis et incorruptæ Acerrimo propugnatori; Nepotes ejus atque pronepotes, In hac capella, Cujus ille fundamenta olim jecerat, Monumentum hocce honorarium Poni curaverunt. In the Octagon Chapel, Norwich.

Α Χ Ω Samueli Johnson, Grammatico et Critico, Scriptorum et Anglicorum literate perito, Poetæ luminibus verborum admirabili, Magistro virtutis gravissimo, Homini optimo et singularis exempli, Qui vixit ann. lxxv. mens. ii. dies xiiii. Decessit Idib. Decembr. ann. Christ. cIc. Iccc. lxxxiiiI. Sepult. in Æd. sanct. Petr. Westmonasteriens. xiii. Kal. Janvar. ann. Christ. cic. iccc. lxxxv. Amici et Sodales literarii Pecunia conlata H. M. faciund. curaver.

Danieli Gaches, A.M. Collegii Regalis in Academia Cantabrigiensi Quondam Socius Ecclesiæ hujusce per ann. xxxviii. mens. ix. Ministro, Irenarchæ, de comitatu Varvicensi Optime merito; Siquidem æqui et boni peritiasimus fuit, Et ad nodos legum solvendos Quam maxime expeditus: Non solum literis Græcis atque Latinis Apprime docto, Sed etiam vi quadam ingenii, Quæ ad excogitandum acuta, Et ad memoriam firma atque diuturna erat, Egregie prædito: Qui vixit Ann. lxxii. mens. vi. Decessit iv. . id. Septembr. Anno Sacro mdcccv. Maria Gaches, Conjux ejus superstes, h. m. p. s. p. c. In Wooten Wawen Church.

Edmundo Burke, Viro, tum ob doctrinam multiplicem et exquisitam, Tum ob celeres illos ingenii motus, Qui ad excogitandum acuti, et ad explicandum ornandumque uberes sunt, Eximio ac præclaro: Optime de literis, quæ solas esse omnium Temporum Omniumque locorum expertus vidit; Optime de senatu, cujus periclitantis Ipse decus et columen fuit; Optime de Patria, in Cives Sui amantissimos, eheu! ingrata, Nunquam non promerito, Librum huncce ea, qua par est, observantia, d. d. d. a. e. a. o. Dedication to Dr. Parr’s edition of Bellendenus.

Honoratissimo Viro Frederico Domino North, Qui in æquabili et temperato dicendi genere Facile primas tenet: Quem sciunt omnes, tum in sermone, tum moribus gravitatem servare, Non tristem ilium ac tetricam, Sed comitate quadam et lepore Suavissime conditam: Qui optimorum et avium et virorum Amicitia dignissimus, Novit simpliciter et candide ponere inimicitias: Cujus nunquam in Clientium turbam infidelem Ingratamque Justa exarsit ira; Nunquam in legibus institutisque majorum Defendendis Industria elanguit; Nunquam perturbatis temporibus, sua cum Res ageretur, Fides virtusque contremuit: Librum huncce in summæ obserrantiæ, Admirationis, et pietatis Testimonium, d. d. d. a. e. a. o. Dedication to Dr. Parr’s edition of Bellendenus.

Carolo Jacobo Fox, Quòd veram illam et absolutam eloquentiam Non modo coluerit, sed cultam, qua potuit, Ad salutem Patriæ dignitatemque tuendam Contulerit; Quod in suscipiendis sive amicitiis, sive inimicitiis, Has semper voluerit mortales Habere, illas sempiternas; Quod mente solida invictaque permanserit in Proposito, Atque improborum spreverit minus; Quod in causa, quæ maxime popularis esse Debuisset, Non populariter illc quidem, Ut alii fictè et fallaciter populares, Sed strenuè ac fortiter versatus sit; Quòd, denique, in fœdissimo illo Optimi prudentissimique Senatus naufragio, Id demum, imò id solum Quod turpe esset, Miserum existimarit, atque adeò cum bonis Libere πολιτευτέον statuerit, Potius quam periculose et simulate et cupide inter malos, Librum huncce ea, qua par est, observantia, d. d. d. a. e. a. o. Dedication to Dr. Parr’s edition of Bellendenus.

Edvardus Gibbon. Criticus acri ingenio et multiplici doctrina Ornatus, Idemque historicorum qui fortunam Imperii Romani Vel labentis et inclinati, vel eversi et funditus Deleti Literis mandaverint, Omnium facile princeps, Cujus in moribus erat moderatio animi Cum liberali quadam specie conjuncta, In sermone Multa gravitati comitas suaviter aspersa, In scriptis Copiosum, splendidum, Concinnum orbe verborum, Et summo artificio distinctum Orationis genus, Reconditæ exquisitaque sententiæ, Et in monumentis rerum politicarum observandis Acuta et perspicax prudentia, Vixit aunos lvi. mens. vii. dies xxviii. Decessit xii. cal. Feb. Anno Sacro mdcclxxxxiv. Et in hoc mausoleo sepultus est, Ex voluntate Johannis Domini Sheffield, Qui amico bene merenti et convictori humanissimo h. tab. p. c. At Fletching in Sussex.

Α Χ Ω Joanni Smitheman, Qui vix. ann. xv. mens. viii. dies Decessit viii. id. Mart. Anno Sacro cic. Iccclxxxxiiii. Joannes et Margareta Smitheman, Parentes infelicissimi, Unico et charissimo filio Contra votum posuerunt.

H. S. E. Joannes Moore, Allectus in equestrem ordinem Balnei A Georgio Tertio Britanniarum Rege; Ortu Scotus, Imperator fortis idemque innocens, Et rei militaris peritissimus Scientia et usu: Qui In Batavia, Corsica, Ægypto, India Occidentali, Hostes fugatos vidit; Hispanorum tetra et detestabili tyrannide oppressorum Jura, leges, aras et focos, Summo quo potuit studio tutatus est; Et post varios belli casus, Cum ad Corunnam ægre accessisset, Milites suos, Longo itinere, fame, frigore, enectos, Ad subeundam prælii dimicationem Hortando erexit, Audendo confirmavit; Et Gallis numero copiarum fretis, Et felicitate ducis pæne perpetua superbientibus, Victoriam e manibus eripuit; Legioni quadragesimæ secundæ, Societate periculomm diu secum conjunctissimæ, Et memori rerum in Ægypto prospere gestarum, De virtute digna commilitonibus suis Gratulatus est; Et vulnere pro patria sociisque ejus accepto, Vitam, uti multum et sæpe optaverat, Bene consummavit, xvii kal. Februar. Anno Sacro mdcccviii.

Georgius, Georgii Tertii filius, Britanniarum Regnum Unitum Regens, et qui regiæ Majestati a sanctioribus consiliis sunt hoc monumentum ponendum curaverunt, Anno Sacro mdcccxiiii. Erected on a Monument at Corunna.

Matthæo Raine, S. T. P. Coll. Trin. in Academia Cantabrigiensi socio, Scholæ Carthusianæ, cujus antea fuerat alumnus, Per xx annos Archididascalo, In capella societatis Anglice dictæ Gray’s Inn, Ann. ii. mens. iii. conscionatori, Qui vixit ann. li. mens. iii. dies xxix. Decessit xv. cal. Octobr. Ann. Sacro mdcccxi. Et in hoc sacello sepultus est: Homini justo, integro, pio, Civi in Patriam optime animato, Interpreti sacræ Scripturæ Veritatis cupidiori quam contentionis, Et solito audientiam sibi facere Naturali quadam auctoritate Et genere orationis gravi ac virili, Magistro liberalium artium, Græcis et Latinis literis apprime docto, Et præceptori recte vivendi Propter suavitatem sermonis atque morum Dignissimo, Qui in loco sancti parentis haberetur, Discipuli ejus sua sponte suoque sumtu H. M. P. C. C.

Jacobo Jonstone, Jun. Qui in hac urbe per ix annos Artem medicam exercuit, Et dum ægris in carcere inclusis Opem ferebat, Febris ibi sævientis contagione Correptus, Decessit xviii. kalend. Sept. Anno Christi mdcclxxxiii. Ætat. suæ xxx. Jacobus Jonstone, M. D. Fil. B. M. F. C. In Worcester Cathedral.

Carolo Burneio, LL.D. S.T.P. A.S. R.S. Sodali, Graæarum literarum et Latinarum Professori In Regia Academia Londinensi, Georgio Tertio Britanniarum Regi a Sacris, Ecclesiæ Lincolniensis Præbendario, Cliffiæ, et Ecclesiæ D. Pavli Deptfordiensis In Agro Cantiano Rectori, Scholæ Grenovicensis per xviii Annos Magistro, Qui vixit Annos lx. dies xxiv. Decessit Quinto Cal. Januar. Anno Sacro cic ic ccc xviii. Et Deptfordiæ sepultus est Discipuli ejus hoc monumentum, pecunia collata, posuerunt. Inerant in hoc viro Plurimæ et reconditae literæ, Judicium artis critiæ præceptis Stilique frequentissima exercitatione limatum, Et in nodis rei metricæ solvendis, Eximia quædam sollertia. In libris, quos Latine ant. Anglice conscripsit, Lucidus erat sententiarum ordo, Et sine fuco nitor verborum. Sermonem ejus ad magnam Et ingenii et doctrinæ opinionem commendabant, Motus animi ad excogitandum celeres, Vox plena et canora, Acies oculorum acerrima ilia quidem, Sed hilaritate totius vultus suaviter temperata, Et argutiæ jucundissimo lepore conditæ, Quum. juvenes ad politiorem humanitatem informaret, Accuratius quoddam et exquisitius docendi genus adhibebat; Et in mentibus eorum ad omne officii munus instruendis, Personam magistri summa fide et gravitate tuebatur. Hasce ad laudes accesserunt Singularis vitæ atque naturæ comitas, Quæ optimi cujusque benevolentiam conciliabat; Et discipulos ad amorem et reverentiam præceptoris sui Mirifice alliciebat, Assiduum et vehemens studium in promendis consiliis, Quæ, ludimagistris indigentibus aut senio confectis Solatium ac perfugium præbere possent, Et digna homine perfecte erudito diligentia In comparanda bibliotheca, Quæ libris, aliis manu scriptis, Aliis e prelo emissis, Ita ornata fuit, Ut, post mortem possessoris luctuosam Emeretur sumtu publico, Et jussu Anglici Parliamenti In Britannico Museo collocaretur. Maxime autem in Burneio elucebantur Voluntas in Anglicam Ecclesiam propensissima, Spes æternae salutis pie in Christo posita, Et consuetudo pure atque caste Venerandi Deum.

JOANNI BAYNES, A. M. Collegii S. Trinitatis apud Cantabrigienses socio, Juveni diserto et sine maledictis faceto, Vi ingenii ad excogitandum acuta, Et firma ad memoriam mirificè præito; Græcis et Latinis literis penitus imbuto; Legum Anglicarum interiore Et recondita disciplina erudito; Libertatis conservandæ perstudioso; Patriæ bonorumque civium amantissimo; Simplici justo et propositi Animose et fortiter tenaci; Qui vixit ann. xxviii. mens. iii. dies xxviii. Decessit Londini pridie non. August. Anno Sacro mdcclxxxviii. GULIELMUS BAYNES Contra votum superstes Filio bene merenti H. M. P.

Ricardo Lubbock, Norvici nato; Græcis Latinisque literis Ibidem instituto; Magnam postea in Academia Edinburgensi Laudem adepto Propter ingenii lumen, quod in thesi ejus De Principio Sorbili conscripta eluxerat; Viro Ab omni doctrina liberali et maxime philosophia Cumulate instructo; Sermonis comitate et suavissimis moribus Ex imie prædito; De amicis suis et propinquis Optime merito; Patriæ amantissimo; Qui cum in urbe, qua natus fuerat, Medicinam per xxiiii annos Scienter et perite exercuisset, Gravi diuturnoque morbo affectus, Decessit, quarto non. Septembr. A. D. mdcccviii. aet. xxxxviiii. Brigitta Lubbock, Conjux ejus superstrs, H. M. S. S. P. C.

Aqua ex hoc puteo hausta Sitim sedavit Ricardus Tertius, Rex Angliæ, Cum Henrico Comite de Richmondia Acerrime atque infensissime Prælians, Et vita pariter ac sceptro Ante noctem cariturus, ii. kal. Sept. A. D. mcccclxxxv. Inscribed on King Richard’s Well, in Bosworth Field.

APPENDIX, No. III. ENGLISH EPITAPHS, &c. This Tablet Is consecrated to the Memory of the Rev. Joseph Priestley, LL. D. By his affectionate Congregation, In Testimony Of their Gratitude for his faithful Attention To their spiritual Improvement, And for his peculiar Diligence in training up their youth To rational Piety and genuine Virtue: Of their Respect for his great and various Talents, Which were uniformly directed to the noblest Purposes; And of their Veneration For the pure, benevolent, and holy Principles, Which through the trying Vicissitudes of Life, And in the awful hour of Death, Animated him with the hope of a blessed Immortality. His Discoveries as a Philosopher Will never cease to be remembered and admired By the ablest Improvers of Science. His Firmness as an Advocate of Liberty, And his Sincerity as an Expounder of the Scriptures, Endeared him to many Of his enlightened and unprejudiced Contemporaries. His Example as a Christian Will be instructive to the Wise, and interesting to the Good, Of every Country, and in every Age. He was born at Fieldhead, near Leeds, in Yorkshire, March 24, A. D. 1733. Was chosen a Minister of this Chapel, Dec. 31, 1780. Continued in that Office Ten Years and Six Months. Embarked for America, April 7, 1794. Died at Northumberland, in Pennsylvania, Feb. 6, 1804.

Sacred to the Memory Of George Loyd, Esq., late of Manchester, Barrister, Who died at Bath, October the 12th, 1804, In the 55th year of his age. This excellent man was long and justly endeared To his family, by tenderness as a husband, and kindness as a father; To his acquaintance, by the gentleness of his temper, and suavity of his manners, And to his numerous and respectable friends, By the ardour, the sincerity, and the steadiness of his attachments. In the application of his general knowledge To the characters of men, and the events of life, He preserved that rare and happy union Of correctness and liberality, Which is the surest criterion of a mind Vigorous from nature, Comprehensive from reflection, And virtuous from principle. In the discharge of his professional duties, He was deservedly celebrated For the soundest judgment and the strictest integrity. His conversation was at once agreeable and instructive From the quickness and variety of his conceptions, The activeness and accuracy of his reasoning, And the perspicuity, exactness, and elegance of his diction. His patriotism was neither warped by prejudice, Nor tainted by faction, Nor staggered by real or imaginary danger. His benevolence was enlarged without singularity, And active without ostentation. His fortitude was alike unshaken By the pressure of a lingering and complicated disease, The consciousness of progressive and incurable blindness, And the expectation of approaching death.

Catherine Jane Parr, youngest daughter of Samuel and Jane Parr, was born at Norwich, June 13th, 1782, died at East Teignmonth, Devon, November 22d, 1805, and on December 9th was buried in this Chancel, where the remains of her afflicted parents will hereafter be deposited, at the request of a most beloved child, whom they hope to meet again at the Resurrection of the Just to Life Everlasting.

Quæ Templo Catharina in hoc sepulta est, “Prudens, casta, decens, severa, dulcis, “Discordantia quæ solent putari, “Morum commoditate copulavit, “Nam vitæ comites bonæ fuerunt “Libertas gravis et pudor facetus,” His est juuetus amor pius suorum, Et cura ex animo Deum colendi. In Hatton Church, Warwickshire.

Mrs. Sarah Anne Wynne, the ingenious and beloved daughter of Samuel and Jane Parr, was born at Stanmore, in Middlesex, December 31st, 1772; died at Hatton, July 8, 1810, and was interred on the 18th in this Chancel between the remains of her sister Catherine Jane Parr, and her third daughter Madalina Wynne, who departed this life, May 26th, 1810, aged two years, eight months, and nine days.

This Translation was dictated by Dr. Parr. Here lieth interred Lieutenant-General Sir John Moore; Created Knight of the Bath by George the Third, King of the Britannic Isles. A Scot by birth. A commander heroic in valour, Pure from rapacity and avarice, And skilful in the whole range of military affairs From science aided by experience. In Holland, Corsica, Ægypt, and the West Indies He saw his enemies put to flight. While the Spaniards were oppressed by a fell and detestable Tyranny, he, with the utmost possible ardour, endeavoured To defend their rights, their laws, their altars, and Their habitations; and, after the vicissitude of prosperous And adverse events incident to war, when he with Difficulty had made his way to Corunna, And when his soldiers were debilitated and exhausted By the length of their march, and by hunger, and by cold, He roused them by the earnestness of his exhortations, And he emboldened them by the courageousness of his example, To encounter the perils of unequal conflict. From the French, when they were confidently relying On the number of their forces, and proudly exulting in the Peculiar and almost uninterrupted good fortune of Their leader, he suddenly snatched the palm of victory. Upon the soldiers of the 42d Regiment, Long endeared to him by the participation of common danger, And awakened by one short and pithy admonition to The remembrance of their successful achievements in Egypt, He bestowed his congratulations and his praise, As upon followers, who by their prowess had approved Themselves worthy of being called his fellow-warriors; And having received a wound in the defence of his country And her allies, according to the wish, which he had expressed Frequently and fervently, He closed his life gloriously in the field of honour On the 16th of January, 1808.

George, The Son of George the Third, Prince Regent of the United Kingdom of Great Britain And Ireland, and the Members of the Cabinet Council Commanded this Monument to be erected In the Year of our Lord 1814.

APPENDIX, No. IV. Inscription on the Monument of the Rev. Robert Parr. Siste, Hospes; Moræ pretium est scire Cujus huc conduntur cineres. Roberti Parr, A. M. Collegii Regalis apud Cantab, haud ita pridem Socii Ecclesiarium postea de Horsted et Coltishall Rectoris quam dignissimi. Si vitam spectas, vixit quod docuit; Si fortunam, plura meruit quam tulit. Obiit magno parochiarium et amicorum luctu, Maximo conjugis et filiorum desiderio, Die octavo Septembris, A. D. 1759. Ætatis 56. Hoc quicquid est monumentum In memoriam tam cari capitis Pia mœrensque conjux erexit Maria Parr. Vale!! APPENDIX, No. V.

This letter is here inserted merely to show the perfect freedom, with which the writer was allowed, and accustomed, to protest against whatever in the views or opinions of Dr. Parr appeared to him erroneous.

Dear Sir,

I find that I cannot yet get away from home, on Saturday next; otherwise I should have been proud and happy to make one of the party, to which you are so good as to invite me.

O my Dear Doctor!—how has your last letter on the subject of ——— cut me to the heart! To see so noble a mind as yours laid prostrate at the feet of so poor, dull-beaded, cold-hearted a creature as ——— does indeed fill me with grief, not wholly unmingled with shame. Well! your first opinion is still unalterably mine: and whilst I shall always remember that first opinion, and the generous warmth with which it was expressed, to your honour, I shall try to forget that you ever adopted an opposite opinion—which, indeed, is not properly your opinion—in deference to reasons, which appear to me so wretchedly frivolous, so pitifully flimsy, as to be worthy only of the person, from whom they proceeded.

Notwithstanding this unfortunate difference between your opinion and mine—or rather between your first and your second opinion—let me assure you that no one upon earth more highly venerates, or more ardently loves you, than

Yours ever truly, W. Field. Leam, Jan. 4.

Within a few days after the date of the above letter Dr. Parr came uninvited to Leam, dined and spent the day there; and if he saw not his error, as the writer has reason to think he did, at least he showed, by the marked attention, and friendliness of his behaviour, that he was not displeased with the frankness, which endeavoured to convince him of it.

APPENDIX, No. VI. Inscription on a piece of plate presented by Lord Chedworth to Dr. Parr, written by the Rev. James Eyre. Samueli Parr, L.L.D. Viro, ob ingenium peracre et perelegans, Eruditionem multiplicem et reconditam, Singularem Libertatis amorem, Et mentem simultationis omnino nesciam, eximio, Hocce summæ suæ observantiae Et constantissimae erga eum benevolentiæ monumentum Johannes Baro De Chedworth, Anno Sacro mdccciii. (TRANSLATION.) To Samuel Parr, L.L.D. A man celebrated for an extraordinary acute and elegant genius, Universal and profound erudition, A distinguished love of Liberty, A mind unconscious of deception, John Baron Chedworth Has dedicated this memorial, In testimony of his high opinion And uninterrupted regard. a.d. 1803. APPENDIX, No. VII. Humorous Letter of Mrs. Wynne, referred to p. 72, vol. 2. To J. P. Esq.

My Dear Sir,—Every well-constituted mind—and yours, I have abundant reason to esteem well-constituted—is stored with principles equally important to society, and efficacious in procuring its own happiness. Among these principles, fidelity is constantly affirmed to hold the highest place; and so loudly and unanimously have mankind applauded the exercise of this virtue, that the idea of deceit is at least outwardly spurned by the very basest of mankind, and to quote a trite though striking adage, there is honour even among thieves. Perhaps there is no situation in life more painful, than to contain within one’s bosom either joys or sorrows, without the power of participating them with some person, upon whose truth and sympathy the heart may safely rely. Such is the lot of many. But I trust such misery will never be mine. Your prudence, your wisdom, your unstained fidelity, your unassailable secresy, are my pledges; and I hasten to relieve my oppressed soul from a secret of the very highest possible importance; a secret, which my intimate acquaintance with men of the highest celebrity has alone enabled me to penetrate; a secret, upon which the fate of empires, if not of the whole human race, depends; a secret, of magnitude sufficient to convulse the mind of a stoic, however hardened by apathy; a secret, in short, too overwhelming in its effects, to be confided to a man less rigid in his moral principles, less blameless in the tenour of his conduct, less fortified against the power of temptation, or less proved by repeated and unfailing trials, than yourself. But, my friend, beware; and if you feel unequal to the trust I am about to repose in you, destroy immediately this paper, before you lead yourself into a snare, which will blast your own peace of mind for ever, and hurl the thunderbolt of destruction upon unoffending millions. Above all, keep the secret from all women. Mrs. John is a very worthy woman; I always praise her, though there is somewhat of a rebellious disposition in maintaining what she thinks right in her mind, which at times gives me great pain for your domestic comfort. You know, my friend, that women have no souls; that is, I mean, no souls except such as we choose to allow them. They are ignorant with respect to metaphysics and Greek—they are animals sent into the world to be a sort of medium between us, the faultless angels of creation, and the brutes of the field—they are to make our shirts, nurse our children, dress our dinners, wait on us when sick, try to amuse us when well, and serve as vents for those tyrannical and violent passions, which we dare not exercise on each other for fear of a beating. These are the proper duties of women, according to five thousand ancients, and ten thousand moderns; and nothing can so totally destroy the reputation of a man, as treating them with confidence or affection. Let me trust, then, my dear friend, that with your accustomed good faith, good sense, and good disposition to act as becomes a man, you will cautiously abstain from trusting any of your own sex, and still more anxiously avoid to hint to any of the inferior female race, this secret. I am going to dine with the servants of Mr. Bromley, at the Falcon alehouse.

S. Parr. Hatton, May 16.

APPENDIX, No. VIII. A Tribute to the Memory of Dr. Parr, from a Sermon delivered in the New Meeting Home, Birmingham, by the Rev. James Yates.

To the views which I have set before you (on the evils of sectarian animosity), my own mind has been led by the feelings of solemn and affectionate reverence for the character of that distinguished minister of religion in the Church of England, whose life diffused instruction and amusement amongst us, and whose death has occasioned a general regret throughout this neighbourhood. I need not apologise for introducing into a dissenting congregation the praise of a man, whose extensive attainments and wonderful energy of character and understanding, joined to the most manly independence and the noblest virtues, rendered him an ornament to the Christian Church, to his country, and to mankind. But, since his philanthropy was bounded by no sectarian prejudice, and extended its vital warmth and beneficial influence far beyond the circle of his own denomination, it becomes us to remember him—as he would have wished us to remember him—as our friend and brother. This congregation more especially owes to him a large debt of gratitude and admiration. Let me recall to your memory those dreadful times when the spot where we are now assembled was covered by a heap of ruins. How nobly did he then come forward to vindicate your body from unmerited reproach, and at the same time to preserve them by his earnest and affectionate entreaties, and his solemn and powerful admonitions, from rashly exposing themselves to a repetition of the same evils under which they were still suffering; and, when the upright Christian philosopher to whom this bereaved congregation then looked with sorrowing anxiety, was assailed from every side by the shafts of misguided rage and cruelty, how equitable, how kind, and how courageous was the support which we received from the same nervous and discriminating pen! Dr. Parr was then in the prime of life; and had he put forth one-tenth part of his power in the methods usually adopted by ambitious ecclesiastics, he would have risen by easy and rapid strides to the highest honours and emoluments of his church. But he not only scorned to rise by defaming and oppressing his neighbours; he was always ready to clear the defamed, and to succour the oppressed; and the greatness of his mind appeared in this, that having resolved never to seek promotion at the expense of his independence and integrity, or by the violation of truth and charity, he remained to the end of life satisfied with his choice, and continued his clerical labours in a comparatively humble rank; witnessing with a benevolent pleasure the success of those around him, but never complaining that he was left behind. Entertaining the most enlarged and enlightened views of the welfare of mankind, which were the result of profound and vigorous reflection, and which were accompanied by an intenseness of benevolent feeling, he manifested the sincerity of those philanthropic views by his actions and habits of life. He delighted in society, as the means of promoting mutual affection. He loved to bring together men of different religious sentiments, and, by showing to each the estimable qualities of the rest, to induce them to think well of one another. The flow of his kind and friendly feelings was strong and full, as the conceptions of his mighty understanding, and unconfined, as his ideas of the Divine benevolence. He uniformly studied to efface those unhappy distinctions and antipathies, which separate man from man; and to diffuse around by his preaching and bis conversation, his influence and his example, the spirit of candour, moderation, and forbearance, and the blessings of Christian charity.

It becomes us to be grateful to God for raising up so great and good men, as our late venerated neighbour; and, according to our humble powers and limited opportunities, to endeavour like him to assuage among Christians the violence of sectarian animosity, and to practise ourselves and inculcate in others the same spirit of universal benevolence.

THE END. CORRECTIONS. VOL. I. P. 10, l. 13. for Perseus read Horace 66, l. 23. — Ancliffe —— Arncliffe 75, note, — Herodias —— Rodian 211, l. 21. — — Colier, Esq. —— Hon. Brownlow C. Colyear 261, l. 18. — his unus, &c. —— his amor usus est 297, l. — Beza —— Bezæ 209, note, — ίππάτης —— ίππότης 304, l. 12. — magna pars —— pars magna 344, l. 31. — illacrymam —— illacrymare 365, l. 22. — nunneries —— nurseries 395, l. —— — Bps. —— Archbishop 421, l. 3. — Prebendary —— Prebend

VOL. II. P. 12, l. 12. for at read as 105, l. 22. — quem, &c. —— “quam

“Gratia quæ dictis? animo quàm nulla senectus.” Silv. L. v.3. LONDON: PRINTED by A. J. VALPY, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.