of his friends, a fund was raised, and an annuity purchased, which contributed very greatly to the comfort of his future life, and possibly to its prolongation. "On the recovery of his health in the spring of 1805, he returned to his charge, and endeared himself, if possible, still more to his friends and the congregation, by his increased solicitude for their eternal welfare, and the growing spirituality of his own mind. But his permanent connexion with Cambridge was now approaching its termination, just at the time when his friends were more than ever rejoicing in his light, and when they were looking for the matured and abundant fruits of his long and faithful labours among them. In the inscrutable dispensations of Him whose ways are past find. ing out, Mr. Hall was visited by a recurrence of his disorder with exacerbated violence, in November, 1805; and although he recovered in great measure from this attack, it was deemed by the faculty essential to his complete restoration, that he should lay aside all publick labours, and abstain as much as possible from all strong excitement. The consequence of these events was his resignation of the pastoral office, on the 4th of March, 1806, which was communicated by him to the church in a very affecting letter. This was received with the most pungent sorrow, followed by that resig nation to the Divine will which Christianity inspires. "Having spent some time among his friends in Leicestershire, he took up his residence at Enderby, a secluded and pleasant village near Leicester, where, by a union of calm retirement with gentle occupation, he gradually regained his health, and with it his capacity for usefulness in the church. As his strength would bear the exercise, he occasionally preached to a small congregation in Harvey-lane, Leicester, which many years before had been under the care of the celebrated Dr. Carey, now of Serampore. From this small remnant of a church, he at length received and accepted an invitation to become their pastor, and laboured among them with great success for nearly twenty years, the attendance continuing to increase so as to render it necessary to enlarge the place of worship two or three times. On the death of the excellent Dr. Ryland, pastor of the church at Broadmead, Bristol, Mr. Hall was invited to succeed him. After long and anxious deliberation, he complied with the invitation, and removed thither in 1825. Here he passed the few remaining years of his life, instructing and delighting the multitudes who thronged to hear him; visiting, however, occasionally, as he had often done before, his Cambridge friends, and sometimes the metropolis, and other places."-pp. 20-27. "We now turn to Mr. Chandler's 'Authentick Account of his Illness and Death;' a painfully interesting document, from which we extract the following medico-theological details." early youth, Mr. Hall was subject to acute "Throughout life, or at least from pain in the back. When it is considered ascertained to have been occasioned by that this long-continued affliction was venal calculi, of a very singular if not unique conformation, it is surprising that his expression of suffering should have patient: but that under the severer goadbeen so feeble, and his endurance of it so ings of these actual thorns in the flesh, he should rise superior to pain, and actually derive from it an additional excitement to his accustomed eloquence in preaching, and deliver on such occasions some of the richest and most brilliant of his discourses, of his mind, as it is signally demonstrative was as strikingly illustrative of the order of the perennial resources of Christianity."-p. 11. "Whilst, on the one hand, we have to dered necessary by the pain, which conregret that the recumbent position ren. tinued more or less through life, deprived ceived from his pen; on the other hand, us of what otherwise we might have reits giving occasion to so beautiful a diswe owe much to this very affliction, by play of the Christian graces, of patient resignation and general sympathy with the sufferings of others. during the last five or six years of his life, "Our esteemed friend was subject, to sudden attacks of difficult breathing. These attacks, consisting of laboured circulation of the blood through the lungs, produced more of terrifick agony than of positive pain-a feeling as of impending dissolution, and that in one of its severest modes. So great was his distress, that he has often said to me, during and after an attack, that he could more easily suffer seven years unabated continuance of the half-hour of the conflict within his chest ; pain in his back, acute as it was, than one and he always expressed a confidence, that if the attacks were to recur frequently, he should either not be able long to survive, or, (what he most dreaded,) he should be prevented from exercising himself in publick, and be laid aside, in a state of great affliction to himself, and of distress to his family. "The diseases which occasioned these attacks, were ultimately ascertained to have been a softened, and consequently weakened state of the muscular structure of the heart, and a chronick inflammatory process, going on in the interior membrane of the great arterial trunk."-pp. 12, 13. "On Thursday, February 10th, Mr. Hall was attacked with a very severe paroxysm, by which he was prevented from preaching the usual sermon preparatory to the ordinance of the Lord's Supper; and with this attack commenced that tendency to augmentation of disease which so rapidly hastened his dismission. He appeared as well as usual on the preceding part of the day, and had not long before received the visit and executed the request of a friend, whom, on leaving, he attended in his customary manner to the door, and handed to her carriage. I spent an hour or two with him subsequently to this seizure; which I found, on inquiry, had commenced whilst he was in his study, preparing for the evening service. He sustained it for some time, expecting it might subside. On attempting, at length, to come down to the parlour, the symptoms were greatly aggravated by the exertion, which necessitated him to remain half-an-hour on the stairs before he could acquire power to proceed. He had endured the whole of this paroxysm alone, in the hope that he should recover without alarming his family, or disappointing his congregation; and had not some of his family discovered him, in the painful situation in which he was placed, it is probable that no one would have been aware of its occurrence. "Our beloved pastor had for some time past, evinced a peculiar anxiety respecting the poorer part of his flock, and on a recent occasion he had publickly expressed his concern that they did not make themselves more familiar, by giving him more frequent invitations; telling them that he should feel even greater pleasure in visiting them than others, who could afford him more substantial entertainment. He referred to this subject with me, and spoke at some length, begging he might be informed of any whom I knew to be ill or in trouble, and expressed in general his full intention of visiting the sick and afflicted more assiduously. As he lay before me, scarcely rallied from a violent attack of unusual duration, talking with his usual fluency, and in a remarkable strain of humility, I could not but view him with surprise, evidencing, as he did, the highest intellectual vigour combined with the manifestation of the most lowly dispositions. "I did not see Mr. Hall again until summoned, on Lord's-day morning, February 13th, when I visited him in conjunction with another medical friend. I found he had passed a dreadful night, suffering the acutest pain in the back in unusual combination with the most agonizing distress in the chest. The two affections were in their results most torturing; the one requiring constant recumbency, which directly aggravated the other; whilst the erect posture necessary to a mitigation of the agony of difficult respiration, was incompatible with his sufferings in the back. Having been kept, for many hours, in constant vibration between these opposite efforts at relief, and unrelieved by the usual, and even unusual, doses of opium, he was dejected and sunk to an alarming degree. Painful as it was to see a great and mighty spirit so prostrated by bodily infirmity, it was nevertheless edifying to witness the divine efficacy of Christian principle in sustaining an undeviating composure of mind. There was no murmuring, no repining, no irritable expression; but the most patient endurance of the aggravated sufferings. To a friend, who visited him this day, he said, 'Oh, my dear sir, I have suffered intense agony; but I have received unspeakable mercies-mercies unspeakable-unspeakable. I am the chief of sinners, and yet I have received the most abundant mercies.' For many hours, during the day, he suffered dreadfully, feeling as if he could not long survive. He was, however, relieved, towards evening, from the violence of distress; but being unable to exert himself without exciting a paroxysm, it became necessary to prepare a bed for him in the parlour, whence he was never more to pass, till borne by hiss afflicted people to the tomb. "Mr. Hall was much relieved on Monday, but remained exceedingly weak. On Tuesday, he had so revived that our hopes were sanguine, expecting that, as on former occasions, his paroxysms would subside, and leave him in a short time again capable of publick duty.”—pp. 18-23. "On Wednesday, he was evidently not so well; and on Thursday his attacks augmented, both in frequency and force. He this day expressed his doubts whether he should preach the next Lord's-day; and that he did not know whether he should ever preach again, but that he remained in God's hand; that he was thankful it was so, for he would do every thing he thought best; -adding, I am God's creature, at his disposal; and that is a great mercy.' "On Friday, he remarked to the friend who sat up with him through the night, in reply to a question, 'I have not one anxious thought either for life or death. What I dread most are dark days. I have not had any yet: I hope I shall not have them.' "On Saturday evening, we were all summoned to witness a more violent attack than any preceding. From this state, however, he was gradually recovered; but remained a long time much exhausted. His voice was very feeble, often inaudible; but when heard it was generally to express his thanks to one and another of his family and friends, for their attentions. "It having been deemed unsafe to leave him this night merely in the hands of friends, I remained up with him. About twelve o'clock he went to bed, and soon passed into an apparently tranquil sleep. In this state he remained very quietly till towards one, when I perceived his chest beginning to heave. In a short time he awoke, and arose on his elbow, saying he must get up, and instantly sprang out of bed to obtain the relief to which the standing attitude was necessary. Almost immediately after gaining his usual position, as near as possible to the fire, a seizure of great severity, threatening to be suddenly fatal, succeeded. Becoming for a few moments insensible, bathed in cold perspirations, and pulseless, he sank down against me, sliding to the floor; so that I feared he would not rise again; but, having been with difficulty elevated on his feet, he recovered his recollection and volition, and threw his arm and weight across my shoulders, by which I was enabled to support him through an hour of intense suffering. When he was a little recovered, I asked him whether he felt much pain. He replied that his sufferings were great: 'but what, (he added,) are my sufferings to the sufferings of Christ? his sufferings were infinitely greater: his sufferings were complicated: God has been very merciful to me-very merciful: I am a poor creature -an unworthy creature; but God has been very kind-very merciful.' He then alluded to the character of the sufferings of crucifixion, remarking how intense and insufferable they must have been, and asked many minute questions on what I might suppose was the process by which crucifixion brought about death. particularly inquired respecting the effect of pain-the nervous irritation-the thirst-the oppression of breathing-the disturbance of the circulation-and the hurried action of the heart, till the conversation gradually brought him to a consideration of his own distress; when he again reverted to the lightness of his sufferings when contrasted with those of Christ. He spoke of our Lord's enduring the contradiction of sinners against himself-of the ingratitude and unkindness He he received from those for whom he went about doing good-of the combination of the mental and corporeal agonies sustained on the crosss-the length of time during which our Lord hung-the exhaustion occasioned, &c. He then remarked how differently he had been situated; that though he had endured as much or more than fell to the lot of most men, yet all had been in mercy. I here remarked to him that with most persons the days of ease and comfort were far more numerous than those of pain and sorrow. He replied But I have been a great sufferer in my time: it is, however, generally true; the dispensations of God have been merciful to me.' He then observed that a contemplation of the suf ferings of Christ was the best antidote against impatience under any troubles we might experience: and recommended me to reflect much on this subject when in pain or distress, or in expectation of death." pp. 24-28. "The subsequent part of the night was passed more quietly; not, however, without other attacks, but they were of a much slighter description. Towards morning he again went to bed, and passed into a quiet sleep, in which he remained undisturbed for a considerable time. "During the Lord's day, he had several sections read to him, from Campbell's Gospels, a book he had with him the whole of the week, and with which he seemed particularly pleased, taking great delight in hearing one or another of his family read. On being informed, in the evening, that the afternoon had been devoted by his church to special prayer on his behalf, he expressed great pleasure, saying, 'I am glad of it, very glad of itI am glad for their sakes, as well as my own.' Towards night there was a great alteration; his strength was much sunk, and his countenance altered. He expressed to the friend who was with him, his simple reliance on his Saviour, and repeated nearly the whole of Robinson's hymn, 'Come thou Fount of every blessing,' &c. During one of the paroxysms, he exclaimed to a friend, Why should a living man complain? a man for the punishment of his sins? I think I have not complained-have I, sir?-and I won't complain.' Monday, February 21st, he seemed much more composed. On my entering his room early in the morning, he rose on his elbow, and immediately asked me, (not knowing that I had remained up,) if I had been well provided for, and if I had passed a comfortable night. He was thus attentive in his inquiries, to all who waited upon him, frequently expressing the most anxious concern for their comfort. In ad 600 Literary and Philosophical Intelligence. dressing one of his family, he said, 'Seek man. ings of this body!' Mrs. Hall then asking he then hesitated, as if incapable of bring "On entering his room, I found him shoulders for support, with a look of evi- 38. "Mr. Hall appears to have died from a failure of the vital powers of the heart, amidst the most vigorous energies of consciousness and volition; his placidity and Chandler, being in striking concomplacency of spirit, says Mr. trast with the wild and powerful convulsions of a frame yielding in its full strength. But he died in faith; and of little comparative importance, therefore, is it what was the condition of the mortal frame, or even the immediate perceptions, joyful or painful, of the immortal "the end is peace;" that to live spirit. It is enough to know that being Christ, to die is gain: and gain unspeakable, we doubt not, through the infinite merits of his loved and respected servant of Saviour, was it to this much beChrist." Literary and Philosophical Intelligence, etc. Remarkable Conduct of a Horse.-Mr. Israel Abrahams, in the vicinity of this town, has a horse that will of his own accord, pump a sufficiency of water for all the other horses on the farm. We have witnessed him, when turned loose into the barn-yard, go directly to the pump, take the handle between his teeth, and throw the water with as much force, and almost as much regularity, as a man would, until he would pump enough for his companions and himself, when he would drink, and deliberately retire. No pains were ever taken, or means used, to learn him a business which proves a great accommodation to himself, and relieves his owner of considerable labour.-Centreville (Ind.) Times. Destruction of Weeds in Garden Walks, &c.-Take 100 lbs. of water, 20 lbs. of quick lime, and 2 lbs. of flour of sulpher; boil them in an iron vessel, and after it is settled, draw the clear part off. When diluted as may be required, and paved and other walks well sprinkled with the preparation, no weeds, it is stated, will appear for many years.-Recueil Ind. Protection of Firemen.-The Marchese Origo, of Rome, has devised a cheap and effective mode of protecting firemen. Their articles of dress are dipped in a solution of alumine and sulphate of lime; and when dry, are saturated with soap water. Firemen thus equipped have remained a quarter of an hour, exposed to an intense heat, without being in the least injured. These dresses do not cost more than ten dollars each. Flames may be extinguished also, by playing on them with a common engine, with a solution of sulphate of alumine, and common clay. Smell of Paint Removed.-The offen sive smell of oil cloths, varnishes, and paints, are said to be removed by chloric fumigation in a close room. Remedy against Flies.-The odour of the oil of laurel is not disagreeable, and the stalls of butchers rubbed with it, are said not to be frequented with flies. The frames of glasses and pictures might be preserved in this way. Maternal Tenderness in a Sparrow.—A sparrow, which had built her nest on the thatch-roof of a house, was observed to continue her regular visits long after the time when the young birds had taken their flight. This unusual circumstance continued throughout the year; and in the winter, a gentleman who had all along observed her, determined on investigating its cause. He therefore mounted a ladder, and found one of the young ones detained a prisoner, by means of a string of worsted, which formed part of the nest, having become accidentally twisted round its leg. Being thus incapacitated from procuring its own subsistence, it had been fed and sustained by the continued exertions of its mother.Raleigh Register. The New Volcano.-The Philomel brig of war, which left Malta harbour on Thursday afternoon, the 19th of July, with the masters of the St. Vincent and Ganges, to ascertain the correct particulars, &c. of the New Volcano Island, forming off Sciacco, in Sicily, discovered the object at one A. M., on Thursday, the 21st. At six, observed a thick smoke issuing apparently from the sea, the spot bearing N. W. W.; and, on steering in that direction, fell in with the Hind cutter VOL. IX.-Ch. Adv. at nine, which vessel had left Malta on Sunday the 17th, but had not yet reached the New Volcano, owing to calms. The island then bore N. W. by W., six or eight miles distant; at 9 deg. 45 min. the Philomel hove to, three miles to windward. Capt. Smith, with the two masters and Col. Bathurst, a passenger, left the vessels in boats, for the purpose of taking soundings as near as they could approach with safety, but had scarcely got one mile away, when the volcano burst out with a tremendous explosion, resembling the noise of a very heavy thunder storm, and flames of fire, like flashes of lightning. The boats were covered with black cinders, which also fell on board the vessel, and all around, to a distance of at least three miles from the volcano. The eruption, in all its fury, lasted seven minutes, and when the smoke had somewhat cleared away, the island had increased in size two-fold. The volcano bursts out regularly at about every two hours, and emits all around it a suffocating sulphureous stench. On first making it, at a long distance, it resembles a cluster or grove of cypress trees. The English brig Bootle, of Liverpool, an American, and one or two foreign vessels were off the place. Its precise latitude is 37 11 North, and longitude 12 44 East: the soundings in the vicinity, say 80 yards off the island, West, a quarter of a mile, 72 to 76 fabearing N. E. are 70 to 75 fathoms; thoms. At five and six miles distance they vary from 70 to 80 fathoms. The ders of a rusty black colour, having only volcano appears composed mostly of cina sprinkling of lava, of an oblong shape, 23d, was not less than three quarters of a and the island, as last seen on Friday, the mile in circumference. The N. W. point is the highest, say about 80 feet above the level of the sea, and lower towards of the crater has fallen in to the level of the southern extremity. The S. E. side the sea. The sea is drawn in with a very loud noise, and occasions an immense air, curling and spreading high and wide; volume of white vapour to rise up in the then succeeds rapidly the eruption of cinders and lava, thrown to the height of from 400 to 500 feet, and on some occasions to 1000 feet, forking and branching out in all directions in its ascent, and afterwards falling and pouring down in stupendous masses, with such violence as to cause a noise like heavy thunder, and making the sea for a considerable distance around one entire sheet of foamaltogether a sight not to be imagined. Elasticity of Feathers.-The elasticity of feathers was well illustrated by an experiment lately performed in the library 4 G |