On Sunday the grave closed upon the remains of another of those old colonists, the few surviving links which connect the primitive and present white generations of Victoria - we allude to the once well-known and widely-respected Major St. Lawrence Webb.

Deceased was born at Donaghade, County Down, North of Ireland, and at a very early age obtained a commission in the 65th Regiment. After a couple of years on the recruiting service, he proceeded to India, where he served until 1823, being through the Mahratta campaign, when he returned to England. He was then promoted to the 45th, and was again ordered upon foreign service, revisiting India, and with his regiment taking part in the Burmah campaign, and during a portion of the time commanding as senior captain. He passed twenty four years of his military life in India, had the cholera twice, was never wounded though in several actions, and returned with a sound liver to his native country, having previously obtained his rank as Major.

After serving a further three years in England, he determined upon giving up soldiering, and sold out. Major Webb had the good fortune to secure the personal friendship of the late Lord Raglan, then Lord Fitzroy Somerset, by whom he was strongly advised not to abandon his profession, and who predicted for him a brilliant military career if he remained. Had he acted upon Lord Somerset's suggestion, he would in all probability have gone to the Crimea with him; and if he did not leave his bones at the Alma or Inkermann, he might have returned with fresh laurels, and as a General of Division. Within six months of his selling-out, Colonel Armstrong, of the 45th, died - Major Webb certainly would have succeeded him.

Resolved, however, upon turning his sword into a ploughshear or stockwhip, he emigrated to the then Port Phillip, and arrived in this colony in 1840, when he purchased a station, and was engaged for many years in squatting and farming pursuits. One of his daughters married Dr. Foster Shaw, of Geelong.

He died at Sandridge on Wednesday, at the patriarchal age of eighty, much regretted by a large circle of acquaintance, who often took pleasure in listening to the pleasant gossip of the light-hearted entertaining old gentleman. - "Herald"