distress which individual experience will, in general, fill up with bitter fidelity. In such cases, 'to imitate the noble Romansi n brevity,' awakes a sympathy which the utmost babbling of loquacious sorrow never can. Such is the effect of the epitaph on Smitheman. But when the character of the deceased is to be expressed, the case is altered. Then to adhere strictly to the severe (we had almost said meagre) modes of the ancient inscription, is to sacrifice the dead man to the dead language, and to distort his limbs, in order that his bed may fit him. Such is the epitaph on Johnson. Parr lived to allow himself greater license, and by so doing, in all probability satisfied himself less, and all other men better. For, if this species of composition, as practised by the later Greeks and Romans, succeeded to the sensible symbols of a former age, to the shield which bespake the departed warrior, or the oar which was laid on the sailor's grave, and, therefore, still confined itself to the expression of a few matters of fact, we see no reason why these manacles of its barbarous origin should be binding upon us, on whom the ends of the world are come—or, if the stern republican of Greece or Rome, jealous of all superiority, was not disposed to lavish words upon the dead, however deserving, we see no reason why we, who are not yet at least republicans, should be phlegmatic too—or, if the heathen of eighteen hundred years since was fitly described by certain heathen terms, does it seem reasonable that we, who are not heathens, should be described (in order to save the Latin) in the same, or else not be described at all, any more than that a man who is killed by a cannon should be described (in order to save the Latin) as having been killed by a battering-ram-or, if the ancient epitaph was calculated to be placed on a stone by the highway side, do we see a reason for adopting a slavish adherence to its forms, when our own monuments stand in religious buildings, and should, therefore, have inscriptions breathing a religious spirit— 'Duo cum idem faciunt, Hoc licet impune facere huic, illi non licet, Ter. Adelph. v. 4. These, or some such considerations, weighed eventually with Dr. Parr, and his epitaphs became more circumstantial, more ornate, more Christian. Such are those of Burke, of Sir J. Moore, of Dr. Burney. Parr's Greek reading was as boundless as his Latin. It is bursting its searments in every letter and in every note that he writes. I must say of him, as was said of an old writer,'—and then comes the Greek. His friend has the gout, or he has it not, (for either case will serve his turn,) and then comes chiragra and Χειραγρα, Xεpaypa, and a dissertation thereupon. He is opposed to a Χειραγρα, gigantic host of politicians, but then he says, with old Hesiod,' &c. He is in trouble, not, however, as other men are, but ¿v τρικύμια κακῶν ; he gets out of it, and then τόν λίμενο ευρε. He desires to illustrate the sentiments of a sermon or a pamphlet ; and the philosophy, the oratory, the biography of Greece lie at his feet. As Attic Greek critics there were some superior to him, -as universal Greek scholars, perhaps none. Porson could not have produced the notes on the Spital Sermon, nor could Parr have written the Preface to the Hecuba. We mean nothing invidious in the comparison,-Arcades ambo. Neither of them has left behind him his fellow. Unhappily for the world and for themselves, they both forgot, the one in his appetites, the other in his passions, that prudent, cautious self-controul,' which Burns, who knew so well what it was to lack it, pronounced to be 'wisdom's root.' We must end as we began, with expressing the difficulty we find in comprehending and producing Parr's character as it really was. We are lost in a maze of contradictions. Nor we only, but those who knew him from his boyhood upwards; witness that most clever and graphic sketch of him given by Sir W. Jones, in Greek:* he is there' one great antithesis.' The key to him, however, is this, that he was the creature of feeling almost as absolutely as Rousseau. Hence, his conclusions being in obedience to the impulse of the moment, were in general too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;' both adopted and abandoned without sufficient consideration. His vanity was so extravagant as to make even Parr, with all the dignity of his intellect and acquirements, not unfrequently an object of ridicule to others, and, with all the advantages of a temper naturally cheerful, a tormentor to himself. It set him on the watch to spy out symptoms of disrespect where none was intended, and to exact punctilious attentions, which few pay without reluctance, and none will pay long upon demand. It blinded him to a lesson which the experience of life soon reads to any man, the lesson of his own insignificance-that his society, however agreeable to others, is not essential to their happiness-that they will forego it rather than have it with a taxthat, if he retires from the world, inquiries soon cease to be made about him; and, if he dies, his place is shortly filled up, and himself is forgotten. Parr wanted ballast—his judgment was not equal to the task of keeping so powerful a machine steady. The disproportion of this faculty to the rest rendered him incapable of sorting his knowledge; of assigning to his speculations their proper place and relative importance. When he exhibits a *Vol. i. p. 478. great great question to our view, he perplexes us by the multiplicity of cross lights he throws upon it, all equally strong. The prominent consideration which would naturally govern our opinion is made to lose its effect by a careful enunciation of the difficulties involved in it. The subordinate consideration, on the other hand, which might have been safely overlooked, is swelled into seeming importance by a plausible array of merits which had escaped us. Meanwhile our decision is neutralised, for we can only come to that of Sir Roger de Coverley, that much may be said on both sides.' Yet, fond as Parr was of balancing a point speculatively, so that it is not always easy to say which part he takes, in practice he could never hit upon the mean-he could never trace out the line between learning and pedantry, between liberty and licence, between insolence and servility-he was ever running against every post in the race of life, and ever wondering that others passed him by. 'At est bonus'-but, with all his splendid failings, he had splendid virtues too, and many indeed of his failings leaned to their side. Though stricken by poverty, he was never tamed into meanness; but emerged from sixty years' comparative want into affluence, with a spirit that would have done justice to the revenues of a sultan. In the worst of times he had crouched to no man, he had been in bondage to no man. Even then he seated himself in cathedrâ, and dictated a lecture, like one having authority, to prince or prelate, as it might happen.* He was frank, ingenuous, unguarded; incapable alike of uttering a falsehood and suppressing a truth-his maxim still was, ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat. Contrary to the way of the world, (Parr's way generally was so,) the prosperity of his friends tried his attachment to them, much more severely than their distress. He was very likely to pick a quarrel with them, when they were promoted unto honour,' either from a feverish suspicion of lukewarmness on their part, or from an ill-concealed pride of independence on his own; but if they or their children came to be in want, Parr was the last man to turn away from them when they would borrow of him, or to cut their acquaintance because they happened to be going to Botany Bay. Of his vast acquirements, he can scarcely be thought to have left behind him such a monument as he was capable of rearing up-no one great work which he could bequeath unto posterity, with the certainty that they would not let it die.† 'Burn *Vol. i., p. 322. What was said of Salmasius,' (thus writes a friend,) may with justice be applied to Parr-that his learning ran to waste in petty quarrels and controversial pamphlets. He, Burn them all,' was one of the many conflicting directions he gave about his papers-so imperfect did he reckon them. His learning went with him to his grave, after having wasted itself for so many years in notes which apparently dripped from his common-place book into the press, in fugitive conversations, in desultory correspondence, and, in fairness we must add, in a most liberal communication of it to all who sought it at his hands. We do not mean to undervalue the works which he has committed to us our opinion of their merits has been expressed in detail. Many of them are, no doubt, such as could have been produced by no other man alive; but still, as a scholar of the first magnitude, we could have wished that he should have been able to write on some one effort of his own, as his own sepulchral inscription-si monumentum quæris, aspice. This he was capable of doing, and has not done. He has entrusted a large portion of his fame to the memory of those who knew and have survived. him; and when they, in their turn, shall be gathered to their fathers, it will be the classical antiquary alone who will be able to tell of the extraordinary erudition of Samuel Parr. He, too, like that hero of letters, was one of the promissores librorum, and, as the Cynthia of the minute" flashed across him, was filled by some great prevailing intention, which died ere it came to maturity. “I make my promises," says Warburton, "like a young courtier, and keep my countenance when I break them, like an old one," and so his republisher might have said likewise. There is enough in his enumeration of the formidable squadron of authors he had set apart for his life of Johnson, to furnish matter both for a smile and a sigh. He seems to have inherited something from each of those great men of the last age whom we most reverence; and the surprise is the greater that, with such arrows in his quiver, he should at last have missed the mark. With much of Bentley's bold independence, recondite classical knowledge, and ready and original application of it; Johnson's power of mind and precision of language; Warburton's comprehensiveness of grasp and variety of research; he has left nothing which can be thought, even by the warmest of his admirers, to have raised him to a parity with any of that illustrious trio. He wanted, indeed, the calx et arenagood sense to correct and chasten his speculations, sound judgment to discriminate proper objects of inquiry, and an unity of purpose to marshal and combine his resources. With these, how different would have been his fate! Instead of leaving to posterity a character motley, ambiguous, and compounded, in which there is much to blame, much to praise, but everything to laugh at, and compositions in which learning often loses its dignity, and talents their merited respect; he might exultingly have bequeathed to us a name of stable and unequivocal greatness, and works which would have insured him an indestructible fame.'-MS. ART. ART. II.-Regulations for the Guidance of those who may propose to embark, as Settlers, for the New Settlement on the Western Coast of New Holland. 1. His Majesty's Government do not intend to incur any expense in conveying settlers to the New Colony on the Swan River; and will not feel bound to defray the expense of supplying them with provisions, or other necessaries, after their arrival there, nor to assist their removal to England, or elsewhere, should they be desirous of quitting the Colony. 2. Such persons as may arrive in that settlement before the end of the year 1830, will receive, in the order of their arrival, grants of land, free of quit rent, proportioned to the capital which they may be prepared to invest in the improvement of the land, and of which capital they may be able to produce satisfactory proofs to the Lieutenant Governor (or other officer administering the Colonial Government), or to any two officers of the Local Government appointed by the Lieutenant Governor for that purpose, at the rate of forty acres for every sum of three pounds which they may be prepared so to invest. 3. Under the head of investment of capital will be considered stock of every description, all implements of husbandry, and other articles which may be applicable to the purposes of productive industry, or which may be necessary, for the establishment of the settler on the land where he is to be located. The amount of any half-pay or pension which the applicant may receive from Government, will also be considered as so much capital. 4. Those who may incur the expense of taking out labouring persons, will be entitled to an allowance of land at the rate of fifteen pounds, that is, of two hundred acres of land, for the passage of every such labouring person, over and above any other investment of capital. In the class of " labouring persons," are included women, and children above ten years old. Provision will be made by law, at the earliest opportunity, for rendering those capitalists, who may be engaged in taking out labouring persons to this settlement, liable for the future maintenance of those persons, should they, from infirmity or any other cause, become unable to maintain themselves there. 5. The licence of occupation of land will be granted to the settler, on satisfactory proof being exhibited to the Lieutenant Governor (or other officer administering the Local Government), of the amount of property brought into the colony. The proofs required of such property will be such satisfactory vouchers of expenses as would be received in auditing public accounts. But the full title to the land will not be granted in fee simple, until the settler has proved, to the satisfaction of the Lieutenant Governor (or other officer administering the Local Government), that the sum required by Article 2 of these regulations (viz. one shilling and sixpence per acre) has been expended in the cultivation of the land, or in solid improvements, such as buildings, roads, or other works of the kind. 6. Any grant of land thus allotted, of which a fair proportion, of at |