accompanies great profit. I will not, myself, abandon hope, and I entreat you to cherish it; but with those reserves which reflection supplies for the mitigation of possible disappointment. In calamities which strike with their full force upon ourselves alone, I think that the poet was a philosopher when he said:

"sors autem ubi pessima rerum

Sub pedibus timor est, securaque summa malorum."

And we remember another occasion in which it was properly said, by another expectant of evil:

66

Morsque minus pœnæ quam mora mortis habet."

Yet, dear Sir, it is difficult to lay down general rules upon the fluctuating operations of hope and fear. When the evil threatens those who are dear to us, I should be very cautious in applying the two maxims which I just now mentioned, and in the application of which, to our own cases, there is room for that conscious magnanimity which blunts the points of sorrow. You seem alarmed a little with yourself for not sympathizing sufficiently with the grief of your friends; but pray remember that the best moral properties, even of our benevolent affections, requires some balance, as Hutcheson calls it, that, by the wise constitution of our nature, there should be no waste of feeling in situations where energy would be wasted, and that even where the pangs of compassion are most sharp, the pain of the observer falls very short of the pain of the sufferer. You smart more for your own brother than for the relations of your friends, and this is very right. For those acquaintances which are more nearly related, grieve in these points more intensely than you. You can console them, and they can relieve their friends; and thus, dear Sir, we may learn to throw away refinement and sentimentality, and to follow nature in the lessons she gives us, " veræ numerosque modosque ediscere vitæ."

I am going to London next week; and as I stay only eight or nine days, I cannot go down to Harrow. But I shall gaze upon the hill, and I shall think of you and your colleagues, and

your boys. I give you all my affectionate blessing, and, dear and learned Sir, with great respect, I am your friend,

S. PARR.

*

DEAR DR. BUTLER,

*

Hatton, Oct. 21, 1811.

* Tell Harry Drury that the men of King's are lucky in the choice of a Provost, whose manners and temper were not spoiled by the pedantries, and pomposities, and fooleries, which accompany the long exercise of petty Archididaschalian authority. While I theoretically and justly oppose the pride of station, and the pride of learning, I do not, Dr. Butler, in the act of warning others, fall into the weakness and the guilt of thinking more highly of myself than I ought to think, and, remembering my own infirmities, I have more than once, when asked how I should feel and how I should act, if I were myself a bishop, replied, warily and humbly, as it became such an imperfect creature as myself:

Quemquam posse putas mores narrare futuros?

Dic mihi, si fias tu leo, qualis eris ?

Very true; but reflection, dear Sir, upon what is passing in the conduct of others will supply many useful preservatives for our own. Have you looked into Hurd's edition of Addison? I examined it lately at Cambridge, and it is trifling enough. Envy me and hate me, but congratulate me upon my having two Latin compositions of Addison unknown to his Right Rev. Editor. I should have given them to Hurd if I had known of his intention while he was living. I am enraptured with the second volume of Gray's Works, and I think that no man living could have discharged the duties of an editor with more ability than Mathias has shewn. Good sense, rarely the ally of genius and eruidition, is the noble characteristic of Gray's mind, and this is the more wonderful, because his literary associates, one and all, were fond of refinement. His charming translations of some Greek Epigrams have led me to look again at those of Grotius, and I am confirmed in my opinion that the merit of Grotius in this species of composition is unrivalled, but I assign the next place to Gray, who leaves Samuel Johnson far behind. I once, when a young man, dabbled in this sort of writing, and

was not much below mediocrity, but all my papers were lost at Emanuel. Lately I gave my College Library a magnificent manuscript of Chrysostom, in four volumes folio; it was five weeks on the road, and you may guess my tormenting anxiety till I heard of its arrival. Oh! I forgot to tell you that I yesterday refreshed myself with the charming, charming, charming Prolegomena of Grotius to his Translations, and forty years have elapsed since my reading it. Pray have you seen my friend Mr. Huntingford's edition of Pindar for the use of Schools? It contains some notes from Heyne and Benedict, and I have enriched it with a Dissertation upon one of the Pyths, by Barford: it is exegetic rather than what we call critical, and so much the better, and somehow or other the same thing is said by Heyne, of whom I say as Cicero did of Plato, "Nostri ille Deus;" but then I am a Polytheist in this way, and they who, with many of my contemporaries, are the " Dii majorum gentium" stand in my creed as the " Plebs superûm." Lately I met with a satisfactory illustration of a passage in Horace, which has puzzled all editors of all sorts; but I won't tell it you, because you did not meet me at Mr. Rye's. I am, dear Sir, very truly and respectfully yours,

S. PARR.

DEAR DR. BUTLER,

March 21, 1816.

I reckon with entire confidence on your granting more attention to my request than you usually pay to the vague and perhaps unreasonable recommendations with which you are beset and sometimes annoyed. I have heard within this day or two that Vere Monro is placed under your auspicious care at Harrow. Now, I beseech you to believe me when I say, that the welfare of the lad is to me most interesting. His second cousin, Dr. Monro, was sent with me to Stanmore when I was disappointed at Harrow, and every hand stretched out to serve me commanded my gratitude. His father, Thomas, was educated by me at Norwich, and some events occurred in which mercy triumphed over formal justice, and the result even exceeded my expectations. Thomas was a gentleman, a scholar, and a Christian. We love those to whom we render those services

which ought to make them love ourselves; and when Thomas was at College, I had opportunities of carrying on that system of kindness that began when he was at school. He had no mean talent for Greek and Latin verse-he had some humour. His taste was very correct. He married an excellent woman; and if you knew, as I did, his tender and affectionate feelings, his exemplary diligence and seriousness as a parish priest, his abilities and activity in performing the duties of a teacher, and his domestic virtues, you would not wonder at my attachment to such a pupil and such a friend. He is no more; but to my sensibility he lives in his children; and I intreat you, dear Sir, to do for the boy all that can be done......

I have often said, that in vivacity and elegance you excel all my male correspondents, and I use the restrictive term because I very often hear from a female whose letters are adorned with the exquisite beauties that wit, taste, and genius, can throw around composition. Well, my friend, there is a gaiety and a vigour, too, in the letters of Harry Drury which make his letters very delightful indeed.....

Farewell, remember me to Harry Drury and his wife, and to my sweetheart Martha Evans and her spouse. I am, very truly, your well-wisher and respectful humble servant,

S. PARR.

DEAR SIR,

July 15.

...I could fill a sheet with that which passes in my mind about the election of a Divinity Professor at Cambridge. Kaye is an unforeseen and respectable candidate-he is a for midable rival-he is really a man of science, a good classical scholar; a good-natured and a well-bred man, and admirably formed to adorn his academical situation; but he is not such a veteran as Maltby, nor have his talents or his attainments been brought so frequently and so severely to the test. Ned in a manner quite unexampled got the University Scholarship; he took a Wrangler's degree, he got a classical medal; he has again and again preached before the University, upon public occasions, when the Cantabs wanted either courage or ability;

he has published some of the sermons so preached—he has sent forth a volume of Theology which does credit to him as a scholar and as a Christian. He has defended the Church by his pamphlet on the Bible Society; he is the editor of Morell's Thesaurus. Look, then, at the variety and the number, and the intrinsic value of these things, and find me, if you can, a single Cantab whose pretensions are equal to Ned's. At all events, I hope that we shall escape from the Calvinists, and if Ned be foiled I shall be consoled with the reflection, that such a man as Kaye is successful, Let me conjure you to take care of your health, health, health. God bless you.

I am truly your friend and respectful humble servant,

S. PARR.

Dr. E. D. Clarke, the celebrated traveller, and afterwards Cambridge Professor of Mineralogy, and with whom we have so accurate an acquaintance through the admirable memoir of his life by Mr. Otter, was Dr. Parr's correspondent on various topics; but especially certain Greek inscriptions. One letter drew from Dr. Parr an eulogium on Mr. Mathias, which I am happy to have it in my power to publish.

DEAR SIR,

Hatton, Jan. 22, 1814.

Tell me, I beseech you, where our very learned and truly ingenious and nobly minded friend Mr. Mathias is now to be found; tell me how he is in health and spirits; tell me what he is doing in the pursuit of knowledge, or for the communication of it. Whatsoever concerns such a scholar and such a man cannot fail to interest me unfeignedly and intensely. I must first tell you a story, and then I shall ground upon it a request, or I had almost said, a command. Mathias wrote to me from Italy a letter, which I have read two or three times with a pro