Authors (penes me) is inserted, Charge to the Clergy at Derby. 1824. 4to. 38. 6d.

A sermon, preached in the church of Hatton, near Warwick, at the Funeral of the Rev. Samuel Parr, LL.D. in obedience to his own request, March 14, 5 1825. And published at the request of the executors and friends assembled on the occasion. By the Rev. S. Butler, D.D. F.R.S. &c. archdeacon of Derby, and head master of Shrewsbury school. Ἐγὼ μὲν δὴ κατανοῶν τοῦ ἀνδρὸς τήν τε σοφίαν καὶ τὴν γενναιότητα, οὔτε μὴ μεμνῆσθαι δύναμαι αὐτοῦ, οὔτε μεμνημévos μǹ ovк éжawei. XENOPH. APOL. PRO SOCR. ad fin. London: printed 10 for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, Paternoster-Row, 1825. 4to. pp. 16. [In Cambridge university library].

P. 6: Of his intellectual powers it was impossible that he should not be conscious, and this made him too open to the praise of those who could not truly appreciate them, and who bestowed their hollow compliments with 15 insincerity of heart.'

Pp. 7-10: 'I am here in obedience to his command, and so far, I trust, in his own free and manly spirit, as to scorn offering to his memory, what I should despise to receive as a tribute to my own. I must ever speak of him with the warmth of affectionate friendship, with love for his virtues, 20 with admiration for his learning, and with gratitude for his regard; but I will say of him only that which I believe and know, and will never introduce the language of insincerity in a place and on an occasion, which, of all others, should admit only the voice of truth.

'He was gifted by nature with a most powerful and capacious intellect, 25 which he cultivated by early and diligent application. His memory was almost miraculous, and the stores which he could pour forth from it, on every subject of literature, were perfectly inexhaustible. In abstruse and metaphysical enquiries he had no superior. The quickness of his perception led his mind to remote and occult causes and their consequences, and 30 the soundness of his judgement enabled him to discriminate between truth and error, between hypothesis and fact. Deeply versed in the writings of the antient philosophers, and especially in those of the Academic and Peripatetic schools, and intimately conversant also with all the eminent writers on moral and metaphysical subjects in modern times, he could pierce into 35 the most secret recesses of the human mind, and trace its passions and its habits, its virtues and its vices, to the very source from which they spring. Yet this knowledge was but human...He whose keen and rapid glance could thus develope the motions of the human heart, and scrutinize those causes of our actions and feelings which are often unknown to ourselves, 40 was continually liable to misapprehension and error in his intercourse with mankind...And I have thought it but right to state this, because it may serve to explain and to remove many of those offences which were taken against him, by those who did not know his simplicity and singleness of heart, and who may have imagined themselves slighted where he never 45 intended to offend, or may have construed expressions of momentary feeling into the language of settled dislike.

'In serious argument he was keen, energetic, and irresistible, but the cheerfulness of his mind sometimes led him to paradox on lighter subjects, especially among those whom he loved; and in such cases he seemed to

contend not only for the sake of amusement, but perhaps also for that of strengthening his powers, and awakening his faculties for more grave discussion. The causes already mentioned have sometimes operated on these occasions to produce an unfavorable result among strangers, especially when combined with that impatience which was inseparable from his acute under- 5 standing and vigorous imagination, and perhaps, that desire of victory which was natural to his great and ardent spirit... They saw not the sterling worth, the innate benevolence of his heart; they knew not, what all who enjoyed his intimacy could testify, that if a hasty expression, uttered in the ardour of dispute, was couched in stronger terms than he would have used 10 in a moment of less excitement, it was not meant to inflict a permanent wound, and that it was utterly out of his nature deliberately to do an ill turn to the worst enemy he had.'

Pp. 10, 11: 'In politics his ardent love of freedom, his hatred of oppression, and his invincible spirit, joined to the most disinterested and incor- 15 ruptible integrity, and the most resolute independence, even in the days of poverty and privation, made him always a prominent and conspicuous character. Caution he despised; it was not a part of his noble and fearless nature. What he thought greatly he uttered manfully; and such a mighty master of language, when speaking or writing on civil and religious liberty, 20 carried away his hearers by the same resistless torrent of eloquence by which himself was swept along...He must be allowed to have been a most sincere and faithful lover of his country, zealously attached to her constitution, and only anxious that all ranks and parties should enjoy as much liberty of action and of conscience, as he conceived to be compatible there- 25 with. And in private life he was on terms of friendly and familiar intercourse with many whose opinions were removed as far as possible from his own. For myself, I may say, that differing from him on many political points, and particularly on one which a few years since was peculiarly near his heart, and on some theological questions, not one moment's interruption 30 to our friendship was caused by that or any other diversity of opinion, during more than five-and-twenty years.'

Pp. 11-13: As to his learning, it was the most profound, and, I may add, the most varied and extensive, of any man of his age. He has left a chasm in the literature of his country which none of us, who are here 35 assembled to do honour to his memory, shall ever see filled up. He combined in himself a rare and happy union of qualities that are seldom compatible with each other; quick perception and sound judgement, retentive memory and vivid imagination; to these he added unwearied assiduity and accurate research. As a classical scholar he was supreme-deeply versed 40 in history, especially that of his own country; in metaphysics and moral philosophy not to be excelled; in theology he had read more extensively, and thought more deeply, than most of those who claim the highest literary fame in that department. He was admirably versed in the history and constitution of our own church, in the origin of its liturgy, which no man 45 admired more...and in the writings both of its founders and of those great luminaries who flourished in the seventeenth century. He was well acquainted also with the constitution of those sects and churches which differ from our own. He was well read in controversy, though he loved

not controversialists, for his benevolent and tolerating spirit was shocked by anything like rancour among men who believe a gospel of love...

'Thus pre-eminent himself in learning, he was, of all men whom I have ever known or read of, the most liberal in communicating it, and in sowing 5 the seeds and fostering the growth of it, by his advice, by his interest, and very largely and frequently by his pecuniary assistance to all scholars who stood in need of it, and especially to his brethren in the church, and to young men of promising talents, whose means were inadequate to their support at the universities. Were I not withheld by the delicacy of the IO subject, I could corroborate this assertion by many splendid instances...He was utterly destitute of all littleness and jealousy of spirit, and never mentioned the name, either of friend or foe, who had any pretensions to learning, without rendering ample justice to his merits on that score.'

Pp. 13, 14. Parr's benevolence to the poor. 'There are those amongst 15 you...who can remember it [the church], without the religious gloom of its numerous painted windows, without the splendid decorations of its altar and its pulpit, with scarcely any of the marble on its walls, without its organ, without those bells in whose cheerful sounds he so much delighted; in a word, who may recollect it to have been one of the meanest, instead of 20 being, as it is now become by his bounty, undoubtedly one of the best kept and best adorned places of divine worship which this neighbourhood can present. Truly may we say that he found it brick and has left it marble. And what speaks far beyond the praise of solemn and decorous ornament, behold the testimony of his labours, in the enlarged dimensions of the edi25 fice itself—not so much called for by the increased population of his parish, as by the increased and increasing numbers of that population who have been brought by him to frequent his church.'

Pp. 15, 16: His piety..., though unostentatious, was fervent and sincere. Though tolerant in the highest degree to the opinions of all whom he 30 believed to be sincere, he had a thorough and pervading sense of religion in

his own mind, a firm belief in the promises of the Gospel, and a confiding trust in the mercies of God. I never knew him mention that august name without the utmost reverence, and though... his piety was most unostentatious, yet frequently when I have come upon him unexpectedly, and some35 times during the pauses of our more serious conversations (and I may add, that I rarely, perhaps never, passed a day with him, in which some religious topic did not form part of them); I have seen him occupied in devout and private aspirations, with that fervour of manner and animation of countenance, which though the lips spoke not, sufficiently declared the holy and 40 reverential feelings of his 'heart. But, above all things, his delight was to contemplate and discourse upon the divine benevolence. This was the master chord to which his own heart was responsive: he loved to be absorbed and lost, as it were, in the contemplation of that divine goodness... Even in his last illness, and in those moments of temporary alienation, for some such there sometimes were, when the mind often betrays itself..., this great and pervading feeling was strongly displayed. There was a holiness and purity in his very wanderings, which bespoke the habitual piety and benevolence of his soul, and which perhaps is a more affecting and salutary lesson to the survivors, than any death-bed exhortation could afford.' This sermon was introduced after the lesson (Barker's Parriana, 1. 119

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seq.) and was preached in obedience to Parr's request, 2 Nov. 1824 (Johnstone's Memoirs of Parr, 838): 'I desire you, if you can, to preach a short unadorned funeral sermon. Rann Kennedy is to read the lesson and grave service, though I could wish you to read the grave service also. Say little of me, but you are sure to say it WELL.'

5

Parr was a member of St. John's college, as well as of Emm., and both colleges can shew his portrait. No reputation has more entirely perished; but somewhat unjustly, as will be plain to any one who will read his Spital Sermon, his discourse on education, or his most instructive letters. The reverence with which so many men of high birth or of high standing in the IO political and literary worlds regarded him, was not only creditable to them, but exercised upon them an elevating influence, which makes his name worthy to rank with Johnson's. Yet many now conceive of him only as a gourmand, a vain disputant, and a composer of antithetic inscriptions; to not a few the well-known saying ‘Porson first,-Burney third,' sums up 15 the whole character of the man. The above words of Butler, the notices of Parr by De Quincey and Cyrus Redding, and John James Blunt's review of his life (reprinted from the Quarterly in his collected essays), will enable the reader to form a truer estimate of one of the kindest hearted and best read Englishmen of the last generation.

20

Prof. John James Blunt in Quarterly Rev. for April 1829 (XXXIX. 298): 'Dr. Butler complied with his [Sam. Parr's] request [that he would preach at his funeral], and amply made good the opinion here expressed. He spoke of him like a warm and stedfast friend, but not like that worst of enemies, an indiscreet one; he did not challenge a scrutiny by the extrava- 25 gance of his praise, nor break, by his precious balms, the head he was most anxious to honour.'

Johnstone, Memoirs 839, 840: 'Dr. Butler was charged with introducing too many defects, and resting upon them too long, in his delineation of Dr. Parr's character. It was without reason that this blame was cast upon the sermon... Though there was no aim at pathos, or affectation of tenderness, so really affecting was the conduct of the whole ceremony, that many a sob was heard, and every eye was moist.'

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Johnstone's Memoirs of Samuel Parr, 627 seq. In September 1791 began Dr. Parr's acquaintance with him [Butler], then a boy leaving Rugby 35 School, and actually, or about to be, entered at Christ Church, under the tuition of the present Dean [1828, i. e. Cyril Jackson]. By Parr's interference this plan was changed, and Cambridge was chosen, as more likely to be conducive to the interests of the young scholar, who had been introduced to his notice by the merit of a copy of Latin verses.... From 1793 to 40 1801 there appears to have been no intercourse. It was in this interval that Butler established himself as a scholar, was preferred to be Head Master of Shrewsbury School, and was, in 1802, presented to the living of Kenilworth, his native place. In 1806, on the resignation of Dr. Ingles, he was candidate for the place of Head Master of Rugby School. 45 Parr felt the utmost zeal on this occasion; but his zeal was unavailing, though exerted for the interests, and on the behalf of one whose learning was scarcely surpassed, and whose diligence and skill in the instruction and management of youth were unrivalled, and who appears to have been

the only candidate on the day of election who had been educated at the school; a qualification which, independently of the credit he had obtained for the school by gaining more classical prizes at the University than all the scholars which had been sent from it, gave him a claim to preference, 5 ceteris paribus,...under the Act of Parliament then existing for the regula

tion of the school.'

Sam. Butler to Sam. Parr, Shrewsbury, March 15, 1802 (Parr's Works, VII. 359): 'I should have taken an earlier opportunity of addressing you... to thank you for the high honour you have conferred on me, in mentioning IO my name in the notes to your Spital Sermon .....The acquaintance of a scholar so eminent as yourself was too honorable and gratifying to me to be lost without regret; may I add, that I should be happy on a favorable opportunity to renew it. But I am now never above a week in the year in Warwickshire, and that time, being so short, I wholly appropriate to my 15 father and mother.'

R. P. Knight to Sam. Parr, Whitehall, March 12, 1805 (ibid. 306, 307): 'Mr. Butler's having obtained your friendship...is a testimony of his merit sufficient to recommend him to me, and to induce me to do every thing in my power to promote his interest. I therefore lost no time in 20 speaking both to Lord Abercorn and Lord Northwick; but the former is no governor, and the latter had before received so favorable an impression of Butler's character, that my recommendation seemed to be superfluous; so that I hope there remains little doubt of his election.'

There is a friendly letter from Butler to Parr 10 Dec. 1805 in Johnstone's 25 Memoirs of Parr, 633, 634.

Parr to Butler, Aug. 28, 1806 (Works, VII. 359, 360): 'No man living is more deeply impressed than I am with a sense of your great attainments as a scholar, and of your numerous and solid qualifications to preside over a public school. No man can be more ready than I am to bear a direct, 30 sincere, and public testimony to your merits. I therefore could not be displeased with the contents of your last letter, and while I thank you for the marked, and manly, and delicate attention which you shew to my possible scruples, I will tell you, with all imaginable plainness, the real state of my mind...My political sentiments, and the habits of my thinking, 35...have always determined me to stand aloof from the gentlemen of Warwickshire... For these reasons I am unwilling to address any testimonial directly to the Rugby Trustees. But I will in my own way, and with sufficient formality, put upon paper what I know of your intellectual, literary, and moral worth; and what I wish, not merely in justice to you, 40 but for the general interests of education...I commend you for the dignified manner in which you have made your application, and for your own sake, for the sake of your family and friends, and for the sake of our youth, I most heartily wish you success.'

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Johnstone, Memoirs, 528, 529. Sam. Parr to Sam. Butler, Caius Coll. Cambridge, Dec. 12, 1808: 'If I were writing a book you should find me ready and earnest in doing justice to your meritorious exertions, and your judicious opinions on subjects of literature. On the present occasion I have no hesitation in communicating to you what I have already stated, and shall hereafter state, to the scholars of this kingdom, on the marked and