"Since this pamphlet was first published, the principles it aims to support have received confirmation from such a train of disastrous events, that it might have been hoped we should have learned those lessons from misfortunes which reason had failed to impress. Uninstructed by our calamities, we still persist in an impious attack on the liberties of France, and are eager to take our part in the great drama of crimes .which is acting on the continent of Europe. Meantime, the violence and injustice of the internal administration keep pace with our iniquities abroad. Liberty and Truth are silenced. An unrelenting system of prosecution [Query, persecution?] prevails. The cruel and humiliating sentence passed upon Mr. Muir and Mr. Palmer, men of unblemished morals, and of the purest patriotism, the outrages com. mitted on Dr. Priestley, and his intended removal to America, are events which will mark the end of the eighteenth century with indelible reproach. But what has Liberty to expect from a Minister [Pitt] who has the audacity to assert the King's right to land as many foreign troops as he pleases, without the previous consent of Par liament. If this doctrine be true, the boasted equilibrium of the Constitution, all the barriers our ancestors have opposed to the encroachments of arbitrary power, are idle, ineffectual precautions."

After pursuing this train of reasoning with the same clearness and vigour, it is pushed home to the character of Mr. Pitt in this splendid passage:

"But it is needless any farther to expose the effrontery, or detect the sophistry of this shameless apostate. The character of Pitt is written in sunbeams. A veteran in fraud, while in the bloom of youth; betraying first, and then prosecuting his earliest friends and connexions; falsifying every promise, and violating every political engagement; ever making the fairest professions a prelude to the darkest actions; punishing, with the utmost rigour, the publisher of the identical paper himself had circulated, are traits in the conduct of Pitt which entitle him to a fatal pre-eminence in guilt. The qualities of this man balance in an extraordinary manner, and sustain each other; the influence of his station, the extent of his enormities, invest him with a kind of splendour; and the contempt we feel for his meanness and duplicity is lost in the dread of his machinations, and the abhorrence of his crimes. Too long has he insulted the patience of his countrymen; nor ought we, when we observe the indifference with which the iniquities of Pitt's Administration are viewed, to reproach the Romans for tamely submitting to the tyranny of Caligula or Domitian. We had fondly hoped a mild philosophy was about to diffuse over the globe the triumph of liberty and peace. But, alas, these hopes are fled! The Continent presents little but one wide picture of desolation, misery, and crimes; on the earth, distress of nations and perplexity, men's hearts failing them for fear, for looking after those things which are coming on the earth.”

What follows, takes the tone of prophecy. It may be as beneficially heard by the Government of Lord Grey in 1833, as by that of Mr. Pitt

in 1793.

"That the seeds of public convulsion are sown in every country in Europe, (our own not excepted,) it were vain to deny; seeds which, without the wisest precautions, and the most conciliating councils, will break out, it is to be feared, in the overthrow of all Governments. How this catastrophe may be averted, or how,should that be impossible,—its evils may be mitigated and diminished, demands the deepest consideration of every European statesman. The ordinary routine of Ministeria Ichicanery is quite unequal to the task. A philosophic comprehension of mind, which, leaving the beaten road of politics, shall adapt itself to new situations, and profit by the vicissitudes of opinion; equally removed from an attachment to antiquated forms, and use less innovations; capable of rising above the emergency of the moment to the most remote consequences of a transaction; combining the past with the present and the future, and knowing how to defend with firmness, or concede with dignity; these are the qualities which the situation of Europe renders indispensable. It would be mockery of our present Ministry to ask, whether they possess those qualities."

In composing another new preface to the Apology, nearly thirty years

Mr. Hall has this note " Mr. Holt, printer at Newark, now imprisoned in Newgate for two years, for reprinting, verbatim," An Address to the people on Reform, which was sanctioned for certain, and probably written by the Duke of Richmond and Mr. Pitt."

later, in 1821, Mr. Hall, so far from retracting or softening the severity with which he had treated Mr. Pitt, deliberately repeats his opinion; convinced, as he asserts, that "The policy, foreign and domestic, of that celebrated statesman, has inflicted a more incurable wound on the constitution, and entailed more permanent and irreparable calamities on the nation, than that of any other Minister in the annals of British history. A simple reflection," he continues, "will be sufficient to evince the unparalleled magnitude of his apostacy,-which is, that the memory of the son of Chatham, the vehement opposer of the American war, the champion of Reform, and the idol of the people, has become the rallying point of Toryism; the type and symbol of whatever is most illiberal in principle, and intolerant in practice."

If Mr. Hall afterwards felt his habits of study and retirement disturbed by political discussion, and his ministerial usefulness impaired by association with men whose characters and conduct he could not in all respects approve; and if he receded from the open field in which he had gathered so many laurels, to a quieter station, it will still be seen by reiterated declarations much later in life, that he neither abandoned his early principles, nor shrunk from their avowal. In instances more within the prescribed range of a clergyman's duty, he still occasionally employed his pen on such topics as the Test Act, West India Slavery, and those acts contemplated by the administration, under the influence of the Established Clergy, to infringe the liberty of Dissenters as teachers and preachers, disguised by the odious pretext, that infidelity and rebellion were covertly taught in the schools and places of worship they were diligently opening in those villages left by the Establishment destitute of religious or human instruction. He was the champion of the Dissenters from the incessant and malignant attacks of that fit successor, in his slavish principles, of the Bonners and Lauds-Bishop Horsley; against whom Mr. Hall directed the whole force of his reason, eloquence, and powers of sarcasm. But we must revert to his first years in Cambridge, before he had yet girded up his loins for this combat. The description of the private life of this politician, polemic, and popular sectarian preacher, while he resided at Cambridge, is extremely winning and delightful. His conversation among his friends was brilliant and playful; witty, in the best sense, from the great justness, as well as the acuteness of his remarks. His congregation were his friends, and he lived a great deal among them; enjoying their society, and conciliating their regard by steady attention to their best interests, and by familiar kindness. He made it a rule to visit all his people, whether merely hearers or members of the church, once a quarter. 66 (6 These," says his biographer, were not calls but visits, and usually paid in the evening, when he could meet the whole assembled family. Among the lower class, to make them quite at their ease, he would sit down to supper; and, that this might involve them in no extra expense, he took care they should all know that he preferred a basin of milk." The poorer widows of his flock were not forgotten in these periodical visits. To them, he said, he repaired for religious instruction, and was seldom disappointed. On such occasions, he selected his ever favourite repast of tea; and it was his practice to carry tea and sugar with him, taking special care that there should be more than could possibly be needed, and asking permission to leave the remainder behind him." Conceive the Dean, or the Rector, or even the plain Presbyterian D.D., carrying his paper bag of sugar and tea in his pocket, to spend an evening with Widow Smith or Dame Brown! These, we presume, are what churchmen call the " insidious arts of sectarians."

He persuaded the poorer members of his church to associate in little friendly bands for reading, pious conversation, and prayer, going " from house to house;" and in these social and pious exercises, he frequently met them, besides in weekly meetings in the vestry of his chapel.

Contemporary with these evenings, were mornings devoted to the Greek Classic Poets, the study of Plato's Philosophy, and the higher mathematics. Hall also acquired a knowledge of the Hebrew language, under the Hebrew teacher in the University; and, as he said, qualified himself for the society of Doctors of Divinity, by learning to smoke tobacco under the great Dr. Parr, the pipe being the test of admission. We now approach the critical point of Mr. Hall's life, the publication of his celebrated Sermon on Modern Infidelity; on which Dr. Gregory, who had a hand in bringing it into the world of letters, rests as the chief corner-stone of his friend's reputation, and which is here marshalled first in order among his collected works. We have seen Mr. Hall's sentiments in 1793. The purity of motive which dictated the political Sermon of 1799 we cannot question; though that sermon is, in many essen tial points, at variance both with the previous and the later recorded opinions of the author. A Radical would at once detect the source of this aberration, on discovering that, in a period when the military usurpation of Bonaparte had destroyed the fairest hopes of the friends of freedom, and a considerable re-action had taken place in England in consequence of the atrocities which stained the French Revolution, Mr. Hall had fallen into the dangerous association of his Whig friend, Sir James Mackintosh, and of Dr. Parr. The All-Hail! with which his Sermon was received by Churchmen, by the very moderate Whigs, and by temporizing Reformers, and the ferment this defalcation in a brother excited among the tried friends of liberty, are pregnant circumstances. The sermon was admired, " and recommended to every body," by Mr. Windham; praised by the Bishop of London; read by the Bishop of Bangor, and by him recommended to Lord Grenville; celebrated in the notes of Dr. Parr's famed Spital Sermon; reviewed by Dr. Nares; mentioned with approbation by Dr. Ketts; loudly praised by the members of Cambridge University; and whispered of at "the Duchess of Gordon's route." The students thronged the Baptist Meeting-House, and a kind of negotiation was opened with Mr. Hall, who would have been warmly welcomed to conform. The best apology that can now be alleged for this act of inconsistency, is that Hall died at last a Baptist pastor; though for a season he took a position almost under the wing of Bishop Horsley, and all but adopted the sentiments, and even the language, he had so manfully exposed and castigated in that arrogant prelate.

In a happy vein of sarcasm, Mr. Hall, in one of his earlier publications, contrasts the tender relentings of this pious Protestant Bishop over the downfal of Antichrist, his lamentation for "those venerable exiles" the prelates and clergy of the fallen Church of France, with his inveterate, unceasing malignity towards Protestant Dissenters of every denomination. How painful to find Mr. Hall himself, a few years afterwards, in speak. ing of the same fallen Hierarchy, describe it as the "Christian priesthood," whose "religious institutions," Atheists and Infidels had trodden down; forgetting for the time that this same "priesthood" had been mainly instrumental in so corrupting and brutalizing a whole people, as to render them not alone unfit "for the felicity of the heavenly mansions." but for together living in civilized human society. But this was but one, though a very prominent feature of a sermon otherwise powerful, useful,

and highly eloquent. It was an aberration, but was short-lived; and since Dr. Gregory has omitted, or has not thought it necessary to bring this act, of which he is indeed rather boastful in his friend, into complete harmony with his previous conduct, we shall, merely by borrowing a few of the Doctor's own gatherings. On the restoration of the Bourbons, a gentleman called upon the author of the sermon which imputes not to tyranny and priestcraft, the atrocities of the French Revolution, but solely to the writings of Voltaire, Diderot, and Rousseau, and expected him to express himself in terms of the utmost delight at the Restoration. It was in those days when the English ladies were kissing old Blucher, doting on the whiskers of Alexander, and making white cockades to be worn by patriotic gentlemen; days when the Guelphs and Bourbons, "natural enemies," were mingling tears of joy, and exchanging embraces; that the congratulations of Mr. Hall were expected, on the event which spread universal joy over British society." I am sorry for it," he said; "the cause of knowledge, science, freedom, and pure religion on the Continent will be thrown back half a century." Of the Battle of Waterloo he pronounced, "That Battle and its results seemed to me to put back the clock of the world six degrees." This may atone for the equivocal passages in a discourse rendered of suspicious tendency by the praise it received in very suspicious quarters. One or two more of his political sermons contain exceptionable passages, and The Sentiments Proper to the present Crisis preached to rouse the country against. France, after the rupture of the peace of Amiens, might, in its railing at Bonaparte and exhortations to silent, respectful submission to rulers, have fitted the lips of any Churchman of the day. But with this, much that is estimable is interwoven.

From boyhood, Mr. Hall had been subject to some organic disease, seated in the lower part of the back, which, through life, occasioned him frequent and intense pain; and was the ultimate cause of his death. In 1803, after a violent and long-continued attack of this singular malady, attended by sleeplessness and great depression of spirits, he left Cambridge for the neighbouring village of Shelford, for the benefit of riding on horseback. But here he missed, says Dr. Gregory, " his delightful evenings, spent in the society of the intelligent classes of the congregation; and he missed still more the simple, heart-refreshing remarks of the poor of his flock, whose pious converse had always been peculiarly soothing to his mind." His social habits thus suspended, he betook himself to severer study. His solitude was unbroken, his nights became sleepless; and after a long continuation of nervous excitement, his mental health was completely subverted. He was restored in about two months; but had a second and worse attack, and retired from the pastoral office, after having officiated for fifteen years at Cambridge. The estimation in which he was held by his flock, was manifested by the generous provision made for him for life, immediately on his first seizure, by a subscription set on foot among them and his other friends. A letter from Sir James Mackintosh, then Recorder of Bombay, written on hearing of the mental indisposition of his early friend, is so affectionate and amiable in spirit, and so elegantly written, that we cannot forbear transferring part of it to our pages.

"MY DEAR HALL,

"I believe that, in the hurry of

Bombay, Sept. 21, 1805. leaving England, I did not

answer the letter which you wrote me in December 1803. I did not, however, for

VOL. II.-NO, XII,

3 F

get your interesting young friend, from whom I have had one letter from Constantinople and another from Cairo, where he now is. No request of yours could indeed be lightly esteemed by me.

"It happened to me a few days ago, in drawing up (merely for my own use) a short sketch of my life, that I had occasion to give a faithful statement of my recollection of the circumstances of my first acquaintance with you. On the most impartial survey of my early life, I could see nothing which tended so much to excite and invigorate my understanding, and to direct it towards high, though, perhaps, scarcely accessible objects, as my intimacy with you. Five-and-twenty years are now past since we first met, yet hardly any thing has occurred which has left a deeper or more agreeable impression on my mind. I now remember the extraordinary union of brilliant fancy with acute intellect, which would have excited more admiration than it has done, if it had been dedicated to the amusement of the great and the learned, instead of being consecrated to the far more noble office of consoling, instructing, and reforming the poor and the forgotten."

Sir James then delicately approaches his friend's mental malady, which was the probable cause of his writing.

"It is not," he continues, "given us to preserve an exact medium. Nothing is so difficult as to decide how much ideal models ought to be combined with experience; how much of the future ought to be let into the present, in the progress of the human mind. To ennoble and purify, without raising us above the sphere of our usefulness; to qualify us for what we ought to seek, without unfitting us for that to which we ought to submit, are great and difficult problems which can be but imperfectly solved.

"It is certain the child may be too manly, not only for his present enjoyments, but for his future prospects. Perhaps, my good friend, you have fallen into this error of superior natures. From this error has, I think, arisen that calamity with which it has pleased Providence to visit you: which, to a mind less fortified by reason and religion, I should not dare to mention; but which I really consider in you as little more than the indignant struggles of a pure mind with the low realities which surround it-the fervent aspirations after regions more congenial to it-and a moment. ary blindness produced by the contemplation of objects too bright for human vision. I may say, in this case, in a far grander sense than that in which the words were originally spoken by our great poet,

On your return to us, you must surely have found consolation in the only terres trial produce which is pure and truly exquisite; in the affections and attachments you have inspired, which you were most worthy to inspire, and which no human pollution can rob of their heavenly nature. I exhort you, my most worthy friend, to check your best propensities for the sake of obtaining their object. You cannot live for men without living with them. Serve God then by the active service of men. Contemplate more the good you can do than the evil you can only lament. Allow yourself to see the loveliness of virtue amidst all its imperfections; and employ your vivid imagination, not so much by bringing it into contrast with the model of ideal perfection, as in gently blending some of the fainter colours of the latter with the brighter hues of real experienced excellence; thus heightening their beauty instead of broadening the shade which must surround us till we awaken from this dream in other spheres of existence.

The calamity by which Mr. Hall was visited, like every remarkable dealing of Providence with a good and wise man, was attended with blessed consequences. He came forth of the furnace like refined gold. Though his masculine mind soon recovered its natural hardy tone, his spirit was, from this time, more affectionate and humble, and his devotional feelings were more deep and intense, than in his more ambitious years. After his recovery, he spent an interval of soothing and restorative quietude, amidst the scenes of his youth, and began again to preach to the small scattered flocks in his neighbourhood. Some short time afterwards, he accepted the charge of the Baptist congregation at Liecester; a charge more in accordance with his present frame of mind, than the guidance of the refined and critical audience of Cambridge. They