ost part, he is compelled to walk, by furnishing him
with natural affections, evidently intended to fasten upon individuals;
by urging demands upon him which the very preservation of himself and
those about him compels him to listen to; by withholding from him any
considerable knowledge of what is distant, and hereby proclaiming that
his more proper sphere lies in what is near;--by compassing, him about
with physical obstacles, with mountains, with rivers, with seas
"dissociable," with tongues which he cannot utter, or cannot understand;
that, like the wife of Hector, it proclaims in accents scarcely to be
resisted, that there is a tower assigned to everyman, where it is his
first duty to plant himself for the sake of his own, and in the defence
of which he will find perhaps enough to do, without extending his care
to the whole circuit of the city walls.

The close of Parr's life grew brighter, The increased value of his stall
at St. Paul's set him abundantly at his ease: he can even indulge his
love of pomp--_ardetque cupidine currus_, he encumbers himself with a
coach and four. In 1816, he married a second wife, Miss Eyre, the sister
of his friend the Rev. James Eyre; he became reconciled to his two
grand-daughters, now grown up to woman's estate; he received them into
his family, and kept them as his own, till one of them became the wife
of the Rev. John Lynes.

In the latter years of his life, Parr had been subject to erysipelas;
once he had suffered by a carbuncle, and once by a mortification in the
hand. Owing to this tendency to diseased action in the skin, he was
easily affected by cold, and on Sunday, the 16th of January, 1825,
having, in addition to the usual duties of the day, buried a corpse,
he was, on the following night, seized with a long-continued rigor,
attended by fever and delirium, and never effectually rallied again.
There is a note, however, dated November 2, 1824, addressed by him to
Archdeacon Butler, which proves that he felt his end approaching, even
before this crisis.

"Dear and Learned Namesake,--This letter is important, and strictly
confidential. I have given J. Lynes minute and plenary directions for my
funeral. 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_."

Dr. Butler complied with his request, an