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William FieldMemoirs of the Life, Writings, and Opinions of the Rev. Samuel Parr, LL.D.;
with Biographical Notices of many of his Friends, Pupils, and Contemporaries.Henry ColburnLondon2 vols1828
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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. I.
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.
CONTENTSOFTHE 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. ErskinePage 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. Winthrop198 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 Hurd259 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 BurgessPage 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. Wyndham304 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.
MEMOIRSOFDR. 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,
1Dr. 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.
2Camd. Brit. Leicest. ad fin.
3Fuller’sWorthies, vol. ii. p. 184. New Ed.
4Dugdale’sWarwicksh. 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
1Bibliotheca Parriana, p. 27.
2 See Brokesby’sLife
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
1Magni cujusdam animi, atque ejus viri
est, quem de suscepta causa, propositaque sententia, nulla contumelia,
nulla vis, nullum periculum posset repellere. Cic.
2Europ.
Mag. Aug. 1809.
3Fabricii
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
1Spital
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
1Dr.
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.
2Europ.
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 inRichards’ 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.
2Dr.
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 fromDr.
ParrtoMr. 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-
1Letter
to Mr. Nichols, Gent.
Mag.
2Munus 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
1Dr. Samuel
Johnson pronounced him to be “the most accomplished of the
sons of men.”
2Spital
Sermon, p. 136.
3Corn. 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-
1Europ.
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
1Europ.
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.
2Europ.
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
1Annual 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
1Europ.
Mag. 1809.
2Dr.
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
1Nichols’s Liter. Anec. vol. ii. p. 619.
2Spital
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
fromMr.
TysontoMr. 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.”
2Nichols’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
1Remarks
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
1Spital
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
1Spital
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,1Dr. Knox,2Dr. 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.
3Jebb’s Works, vol. ii. p. 255.
4Mr. 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.
2Spital
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
1Europ.
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.
2Moore’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
1Cicero. 2Europ.
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’sTom 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
1Europ.
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
1Gent. 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-
1Spital
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.
2Maurice’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
1Maurice’s Mem. part I. p. 60. 2Europ.
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
1Maurice’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.
2Mem. 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.
1Beloe’sSexagenarian, 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,
1Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 104.
2Beloe’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.1Dr. 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
1Europ.
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
1Middleton’sLife 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
1Europ.
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!
1Europ. 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-
1Sexagenarian, 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
1Maurice’s Mem. part 1. p. 105.
2Europ. 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.
4Beloe’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,
1Mem. 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
1Virgil. 2Horace.
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-
1Mem. 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
1New 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
1De
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.
2Mr. 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.
3Mr. 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
1European
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,”1Mr.
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
1Life 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-
1Mr. 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.
2Maurice’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
1Maurice’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.
1Maurice’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,1Dr. 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
1Maurice’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
1Spital
Sermon, notes. 2Bibl.
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.
2Forster 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,
1Præf. 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,1Jebb, 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
1Præf. 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
1Shakspeare. 2Sequel
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.
2Meadley’sMem.
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
1Shakspeare.
2Europ.
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.
2Hist. 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-
1Gibbon’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
1Markland
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-
1Parr’sLetter 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
1Newcome’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.”
1Sequel,
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
1Toulmin’sLife
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.—
1Letter
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
1Fox’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.
1Preface
to Bellendenus. 2Marquis of
Rockingham.
3Mr. Pitt. 4Præ. 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
1Præf. 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
1Præf. 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—
1Præf. ad Bell. p. 15. Beloe’s Trans, p. 33.
2Præf. 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’sLife 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
1Boswell,
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
1Miss
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,1Dr. 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-
1Boswell, 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
1Boswell’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.
2Priestley’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’sLife; 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-
1Spital
Sermon, notes, p. 111.
2Blackwood’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’sLife 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 SalmasiusDe Lingua
Hellenistica; with some critical works of H. Stephens;
the Optucula Theologica et
Philologica of Ernesti; some Academica Opera of Heyne; PlacciusDe 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 JonsiusDe 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’sAnalogy; 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
1Hæc 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’sSermon 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
1Discourse
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.
1Prior’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.
2Sequel 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
1Bibliotheca 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
1Gent.
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
1Discourse 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-
1Nullus 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
1Spital
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
1Bibl. 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.
1Gent. 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.
1Præf. 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
1Præf. 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
1Præf. 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
1Praef. 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,
1Præf. 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.
1Sequel,
p. 52. 2Paley’sMoral
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
1Bibl. 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,
1Reply 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
1Præf. ad Bellen. p. 70. Trans, p. 149.
2Præf. 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
1Reply
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
1Reply 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-
1Præf. 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. 2Praef. p 8. Trans, p. 17.
3Præf. 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
1Praef. 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.
1Præf. p. 14. Trans, p. 30.
2Præf. 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
Gevaitiusό 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
1Praef. 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
1Præf. 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-
1Præf. 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.
2Horne 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:
1Præf. 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
1Reply 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.”
2Bibl. 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’sHistory 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’sAeneid. 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.
2Div.
Leg. Book ii. sect. 4.
3Dedication
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
1Gibbon’s Works, vol. ii. p. 437.
2 “Delicacy of Friendship,” Hurd’s Works, vol. xiii. p. 283.
3Lowth’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.”1Another 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.
2Monthly
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’sworks. 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
1Warburton’s and Hurd’s Letters, p. 215.
2Hurd’sDiscourse 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-
1Warburton’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
1Exemp. 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.
2Quarrels of Authors, vol. iii. p. 287.
3Pursuits 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
1Bibl.
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.2Dr. 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’sLatin 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
1Bibl.
Parr. p. 535. 2Brit. Crit. Feb. 1812.
3Bibl.
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
1Cic. 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 1Artificemque 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.
3Sequel, 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
1Discourse 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
1Discourse
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.
1Discourse
on Education, notes, p. 15.
2Sequel,
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.
1Sequel, 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
1Letter 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
1Sequel 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
1New 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
1Bibl. 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.
1Birch’sLife 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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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,
1Sequel, 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:
1Moore’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-
1Reply 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
1Sequel,
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
1Sequel, 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
1Sequel, 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-
1Maurice’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
1New 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
1Maurice’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.
1Reply to
Combe, p. 80. 2Spital
Sermon, p. 109.
3Bibl.
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’sMemoirs.
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.”
1Memoirs
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,1Hartley, 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
1Blackwood’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-
1Spital
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-
1Public
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.”2Mr. 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
πεπλογραφίαVarronis.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.
2New 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
1Nichols’ 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
1Fox’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.
3Sequel, 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-
1Reply 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
1Duke 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-
1 Page 2. 2 Page 3.
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:—
1 Page 3.
“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
1 Page 9.
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
1Godwin’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
1New 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,3Dr. 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
1Life 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.
3Life 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.”
1Gent. 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’sCordial 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
1Reply to
Combe. 2Bibl. 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 μεγαοτοιουτος έννοειν ουδέν.Ælian. Var. Hist.. LONDON: HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1828. PRINTED BY A. J. VALPY, RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET.CONTENTSOFTHE 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. ParrPage 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. Parr14 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. Roscoe54 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—Lunn438 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.
Parr459
MEMOIRSOFDR. SAMUEL PARR.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.
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
1Characters 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
1Dr. 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 ΄στινΓάμους, 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,1Mr. 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
1Characters 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,
1Characters 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
1Characters 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.”
2New 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’sRasselas, 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
1Characters 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.
1Characters
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
1Dr.
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.”
2Characters
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
1Characters 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.
2Moral
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
1Anecdotes 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
1Letter 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.
2Characters 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
1Characters 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
1Characters of Fox, p. 620. 658. 818.
2Letter 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.2Mr. Fox studied much, and with ever
1 “Animus vere popularis saluti populi
consulens.”—Cic.
2Mr. 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
1Rambler,
No. 114. 2Characters 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
1Characters 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
1New
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
1Characters 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-
1Characters 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
1Characters 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-
1Characters 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
1Spital
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
1Spital
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
1Spital
Sermon, p. 123.
2A
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.
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’sFriendly Correspondence
withBishop
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 SupplicesetEumenidesGr.
recensuitG.
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,1Dr. 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’sRural 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
1New 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
1Reply 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,
1Joseph 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. 2Reply
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,
1Reply 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’sÆneas 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
1New 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
1Spital
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 “Lucretiuscarus.”
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,
1Luc. 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.
2New
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.
WhilstDr. 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
1New 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-
1New 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-
1Samuel 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,1Dr.
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,2Lord 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,3Lord
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
1Bibl. 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,
1Discourse on Education, p. 59. 77.
2Moore’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
1ChMarsh1835.Parriana. Nov. 1826.
2Ibid. 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.
2Reply 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
1Reply 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.
2Bibl. 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-
1Butler’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
1Cicero.
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
1New
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
1Sequel 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
1Las 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
1Watson’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-
1Moore’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
1Monthly
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. 2Reply 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. 2Gent.
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
1New 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
1Cicero.
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
1Butler’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
1Butler’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
1Rev. Charles Berry of
Leicester. 2Bibl.
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
1Spital
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
1Spital
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.
1Stewart’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.
1Spital
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.
2Spital
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
1Bibl. 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
1Dodsley’s
Annual Register, 1820, p. 150, &c.
2New 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-
1Simpson’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,
1Dr. 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
1Spital
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
1Xenophon.
2 See the admirable preface to Bishop Watson’sCollection 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.
2Reply 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
1Horace.
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,
1Bibl. 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’sanswer 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
1Bibl. 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
1Reply 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,
1Wakefield’s Life, vol. i. p. 376.
2New 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,
1Ovid.
“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.”1Mr. 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
1Symmons’ 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.
2Bibl. 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,
1Spital Serm. p. 13.
speaks of Sir Walter Raleigh,
as one of the first free-thinkers in this country.1 Now, in
Raleigh’sHistory 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.
2Bibl. 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. ParrioG.
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
1Bibl. 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.
2Dr. 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
1Christian 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
1Christian
Reformer, Aug. 1818. 2Spital
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
1Characters 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
1Blackwood’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-
1New 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-
1Dr.
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-
1Butler’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
1Ωκηρον μεν σεβω, θαυμαζω δε Βαρροωον, και
ϕιλω Ταιλωρον.—Parr.
2Bishop
Newton’s Works, vol. iii. p. 446.
3Butler’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
1New Monthly
Mag. Nov. 1826, p. 437.
2Characters
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
theDuke 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,1South, 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-
1Dr. 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
1Jortin.
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,
1Bishop
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
1Rom. xiv. 4. 2Answer to
Combe’s Statement, p. 26.
3 “Bagshaw’sDissertationes
Anti-Socinianæ.
‘Et gens quæ infausti placitis addicta SociniChristiados 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’sanswer 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
Cassanderad 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
1Butler’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
1Locke’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
1Juvenal. 2Memoirs, 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.
1Shakspeare.
2Beloe’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-
1Odium in longum jaciens.
2Monthly 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,
1Beloe’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
1Sexagenarian, 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.
2Monthly
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—TraffordSouthwell—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
1Sexagenarian, 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
1Sexagenarian, 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’sLexicon 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’sIllustrations? 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 Demosthenesde 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
1Lib. 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
1Spital
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
1Spital
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
1Critique
on the Variorum Horace, in the British Critic, 1794, p. 423.
2Spital
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.
MandevilleandRousseau. 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
1Discourse 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
1Characters 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:
1Tracts 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-
1Tracts 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.
1Answer 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 ViroFrederico 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 theRev. 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.