and a Warburtonian, not admitted into the
collections of their respective works," itself a collection
which our shelves could ill spare, though maliciously
republished by Dr. PARR. The dedication by Parr stands
unparalleled for comparative criticism. It is the eruption of
a volcano; it sparkles, it blazes, and scatters light and
destruction. How deeply ought we to regret that this Nazarite
suffered his strength to be shorn by the Delilahs of spurious
fame. Never did this man, with his gifted strength, grasp the
pillars of a temple, to shake its atoms over Philistines; but
pleased the childlike simplicity of his mind by pulling down
houses over the heads of their unlucky inhabitants. He
consumed, in local and personal literary quarrels, a genius
which might have made the next age his own. With all the
stores of erudition, and all the eloquence of genius, he
mortified a country parson for his politics, and a London
accoucheur for certain obstetrical labours performed on
Horace; and now his collected writings lie before us, volumes
unsaleable and unread. His insatiate vanity was so little
delicate, as often to snatch its sweetmeat from a foul plate;
it now appears, by the secret revelations in Griffith's own
copy of his "Monthly Review," that the writer of a very
elaborate article on the works of Dr. Parr, was no less a
personage than the Doctor himself. His egotism was so
declamatory, that it unnaturalized a great mind, by the
distortions of Johnsonian mimicry; his fierceness, which was
pushed on to brutality on the unresisting, retreated with a
child's terrors when resisted; and the pomp of petty pride in
table triumphs and evening circles, ill compensated for the
lost century he might have made his own!

Lord o'er the greatest, to the least a slave,
Half-weak, half-strong, half-timid, and half-brave;
To take a compliment of too much pride,
And yet most hurt when praises are denied.
Thou art so deep discerning, yet so blind,
So learn'd, so ignorant, cruel, yet so kind;
So good, so bad, so foolish, and so wise;--
By turns I love thee, and by turns despise.
MS. ANON. (said to be by the late Dr. HOM