payments, or hastily to comply with the requisition of the missionaries for a determinate part of the society's income, more especially as they had by a deed of settlement secured to themselves the entire acquisitions at Serampore, whether arising from public contributions or their own personal exertions conjointly, and had virtually at least subjected the home society to a sort of feudal dependence in all time to come, on persons whom they knew not, whose characters could not be ascertained, and whose conduct was not under their controul.

Entertaining this rational and consistent view of the subject, Mr. Hall often lamented that he had not the concurrence of his philosophic friend who, to use his own words, had he not been "so credulous of the delusive representations," by the plausible and interested agent of the Serampore establishment, "would not have written a single sentence of that letter" which he has lately given to the public, reflecting not only on the judgment and impartiality of Mr. Hall, and of Dr. Ryland, whose authority he is sometimes anxious to quote, but also on that of the committee, who had the best possible means of information, and whose decision is accorded by a large majority of the subscribers throughout the country.

On his return from London to Bristol he slept at Newbury, unable to bear the fatigue of so long a journey; and having been several days from

home, mixed up with various company, and jaded with almost incessant conversation, his physical and moral powers began to flag, and needed some repose. He therefore retired to the inn, intending to remain incog. An estimable young minister, then stationed at Newbury, having been previously informed of his expected arrival, hastened to the inn, entreating him to accept accommodations at the house of a friend. Mr. Hall peremptorily refused the offer, ordered a bed at the inn, and seemed not in the mood to receive a stranger. But having placed himself in a reclining posture, and lighted his pipe, his visitor ventured to introduce a little conversation relative to the excellent Samuel Pearce, and hinted his having understood that Mr. Hall had been the means of introducing him to the congregation at Birmingham. Mr. Hall replied rather sharply, "There was no merit at all in that, sir. It requires no sagacity for a man to discover the sun; and the highly estimable qualities of Pearce were equally conspicuous." After appearing for a little while repulsive, he entered into a calm and friendly conversation, and at length conceived an attachment which was cherished to the end of life.

He detailed the incidents of his late visit in London; and having noticed the vast crowds of persons who have of late years acquired the habit of frequenting public meetings, he expressed an apprehension that in many instances it served only as an apology for the neglect of private devotion.

He feared it was a symptom of the soul being in such a state, that it shrunk from retirement and self-examination, and found a refuge in appearing frequently in public services. It looked as if the piety of some christians was so meagre in its character, that it could exist only under the excitement produced by large public assemblies.

He then offered some striking remarks on the injurious effects on the minds of ministers, occasioned by their preaching too frequently. The demands of such congregations as expect three sermons on the Lord's day, were preposterously unreasonable, as has been made apparent in too many instances. They make a demand which no man can adequately meet. An attempt is made to satisfy it; the result very shortly is, the congregation begin to complain of the exercises of the pulpit as being crude and insipid. Hurried and frequent preaching, he remarked, upon the affecting and all-important doctrines of salvation, seriously injures and impoverishes the mind, exhausts the power of feeling, dries up the dew of a man's sensibility, and leaves the soul to chill in the coldness of apathy.

Before Mr. Hall left Newbury, he visited his old acquaintance Mr. Bicheno, formerly pastor of the baptist church in that place, and the well-known author of some valuable dissertations on prophecy, published soon after the French revolution of 1789, and having reference to that great event. Mr. Bicheno had long been in a state of deep

affliction from a paralytic affection, and was overjoyed on receiving so unexpected a visit from one whom he had long held in the highest estimation. The delicacy of Mr. Hall's conduct on this occasion was evidently the result of a profound understanding, of feelings deeply imbued with the spirit of the gospel, and highly characteristic of his usual candour and christian kindness.

The theological speculations of his afflicted friend were on some points equivocal; he doubted the athanasian hypothesis, and preferred the notion of a modal trinity; but his speculations had no visible influence on his practical or devotional system; his piety was sincere and unquestionable, his whole deportment upright and unblemished. Mr. Hall approached his bedside, not to put interrogatories on points of doctrine, not to measure the extent of his creed, but to sound the depth of his experience, to ascertain the foundation of his hope, and to pour into his soul those heavenly consolations which suited the condition of a dying christian. With exquisite tenderness he pressed the hand of his afflicted friend, and for a few minutes his emotions rendered him unable to say more than, "How are you-how do you do?" Then, after awhile, "Where have you put your trust for salvation and eternal life?" On the rock,

"And do you

on the rock alone, was the answer. feel happy in relying on the atonement of Christ Jesus?" Yes, perfectly so. I have nowhere else to go for eternal life. This answer was accom

panied with a flood of tears. Mr. Hall declined asking any farther questions. He then closed

the interview by offering up appropriate supplications, full of pathos and the most touching simplicity.

In the autumn of this year Mr. Hall paid another visit to his friends at Leicester, where he continued for three weeks, and appeared like a father among his children, visiting from house to house, and leaving none unnoticed. Anxious to afford to others the pleasure of an interview, some of them gave a sort of general entertainment; but being soon wearied and oppressed with such profuse attentions, he determined to limit their hospitalities by delivering a pointed discourse from Luke x. 38-42, which had the desired effect. He looked in pretty good health, says a correspondent, but seemed aged; yet its chief effect was that of imparting additional dignity to his countenance, and weight to his character. He could walk but little, and was unable to read without spectacles, a circumstance which had not before been observed at Leicester. "We have also noticed the general absence of those brilliant displays of wit and humour in conversation, which used to flash upon us with so much startling delight; instead of this there is now a steady glowing brightness, a vivid mildness of conception that warms and cheers, and yields a more permanent satisfaction. The habitual theme of his ministry now amongst us is, the love, of

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