If we

our salvation than when we believed, let us not ascribe it to ourselves, to our own arm, but to the grace of God: 'Not I, but the grace of God with me,' enabling me to sustain, and to conquer. continue, it is because we have obtained help of God:' we are 'kept by his mighty power unto salvation.' In all our sufferings, if christians, we are perpetually indebted to divine succour.

"3. Let us habitually look up to God, in the exercise of faith and prayer. Instead of yielding ourselves to dejection, let us plead the promises, and flee to the Divine Word. He has been accustomed to sustain the faithful: and He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' He is never weary: Look to Him: They that wait on him shall mount up with eagles' wings; run, and not be weary; walk, and not faint.' Go to Him in prayer,-cling to His strength, lay hold on His arm. You have a powerful Redeemer: 'be strong in the power of His might!' Draw down the succours of His grace, which will enable you to go on, 'from strength to strength,' until you appear before God in Zion."

The last service at Broadmead in which Mr. Hall took any part, was the church meeting (when only the members of the church are assembled) on Wednesday the 9th of February. His closing prayer, on that occasion, is spoken of as most spiritual and elevated, exhibiting in its highest manifestation, the peculiar union of humility, benevolence, and fervour, by which his devotional exercises had very long been characterised.

On the next evening, Thursday, the usual monthly sermon preparatory to the administration of the Lord's Supper, was to have been delivered; but Mr. Hall's discharge of this duty was prevented, by a severe attack of the complaint in his chest, which came on just after he had retired to his study to prepare for that service. This was the commencement of the series of paroxysms which terminated in his dissolution.

"Early on the Sunday morning (I again quote one of the letters of my esteemed friend, Mr. Addington) being requested to see him, I found him in a condition of extreme suffering and distress. The pain in his back had been uncommonly severe during the whole night, and compelled him to multiply, at very short intervals, the doses of his anodyne, until he had taken no less than 125 grains of solid opium, equal to more than 3,000 drops, or nearly four ounces of laudanum!! This was the only instance in which I had ever seen him at all overcome by the soporific quality of the medicine; and it was, even then, hard to determine whether the effect was owing

so much to the quantity administered, as to the unusual circumstance of its not having proved, even for a short time, an effectual antagonist to the pain it was expected to relieve.

"Inured as he was to the endurance of pain, and unaccustomed to any strong expression of complaint, he was forced to confess that his present agony was unparalleled by any thing in his former experience. The opium having failed to assuage his pain, he was compelled to remain in the horizontal posture; but whilst in this situation, a violent attack in his chest took place, which, in its turn, rendered an upright position of the body no less indispensable. The struggle that ensued, between these opposing and alike urgent demands, became most appalling, and it was difficult to imagine that he could survive it; especially, as from the extreme prostration of vital energy, the remedy by which the latter of those affections had often been mitigated, viz. bleeding, could not be resorted to. Powerful stimulants, such as brandy, opium, æther, and ammonia, were the only resources; and, in about an hour from my arrival, we had the satisfaction of finding him greatly relieved and expressing his lively gratitude to God.

"The whole of his demeanour throughout this agonizing crisis, as well as during the remainder of the day, a day of much suffering, exhibited, in a striking degree, the efficacy of christian faith and hope, in supporting and tranquillizing the mind of their possessor, in a season of extreme and torturing affliction. His language abounded with expressions at once of the deepest humility and of thankfulness to God for his 'unspeakable mercies,'-together with affectionate acknowledgements of the care and assiduities of his family and the friends around him."

From this time the paroxysms increased rapidly both in frequency and severity; and Mr. Hall, in the intervals between their occurrence, was usually so weak and exhausted, as seldom to be able to converse with those around him. His expressions, however, insulated and broken as they often were, proved that he was able fully to exercise that trust in God which is the grand principle of religion, and that thus trusting in him, his soul was kept in peace. No murmuring, no language of irritability, escaped from his lips.

It is not my intention to dwell upon the melancholy detail of the ten days previous to his death. I will only record a few such expressions as serve to shew that, acute as were his sufferings, God left him not without support.

Thus, when he first announced his apprehension that he

should never again minister among his people, he immediately added, "But, I am in God's hands, and I rejoice that I am. I "am God's creature, at his disposal, for life or death; and that "is a great mercy."

either for life or

But I have had

Again, “I have not one anxious thought, "death. What I dread most are dark days. none yet: and I hope I shall not have any." Again, "I fear pain more than death. If I could die easily, "I think I would rather go than stay; for I have seen enough "of the world, and I have a humble hope."

On another occasion, a friend having said to him, 'This God will be our God;' he replied, "Yes, he will,—he will be our guide even unto death."

On recovering from one of his severe paroxysms, he adverted to the affectionate attentions of his beloved wife and daughters, as well as his numerous comforts, and exclaimed-" What a

mercy it is to have so many alleviations! I might have "been deprived of all these comforts;-I might have been "in poverty;-I might have been the most abject wretch on "the face of the earth."

During one night, in which the attacks were a little mitigated in number and severity, he frequently expressed the most lively gratitude to God, as well as his simple, unshaken reliance on his Saviour; and repeated nearly the whole of Robinson's beautiful hymn.

"Come, thou Fount of every blessing!

Tune my heart to sing thy grace;

Streams of mercy never ceasing,

Call for songs of endless praise!" &c.

The same night, under one of the paroxysms, he said to the friend who was with him, "Why should a living man complain? "a man for the punishment of his sins? I have not complained, "have I, sir?-and I won't complain."

When Dr. Prichard was invited to join Mr. Chandler and Mr. Addington in consultation, on his arrival Mr. Hall arose and received him so much in his wonted cordial, courteous, manner, as, at the first moment, almost to check the apprehension of danger. On the evening of the same day he expatiated on the mercy of God in bringing him to close his life at Bristol. His prevailing kindness was evinced throughout, in his solicitude for the comfort of those who sat up with him at night, or

who remained in the house, to be called to his assistance, if necessary. He also exhorted the members of his family, and others occasionally present, to make religion the chief, the incessant, concern; urging especially upon some of the young among his friends, the duty of openly professing their attachment to Christ and his cause.

When he was a little recovered from one of his severe paroxysms, "I asked him (says Mr. Chandler) 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. He 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 received from those for whom he went about doing good—of the combination of the mental and corporeal agonies sustained on the cross-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 sufferings 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.*

"During the whole of this severe illness, he read much in Campbell's translation of the Gospels; and, at intervals, one of his daughters read to him, from this version, his favourite to the last.

Chandler's Authentic Account, p. 28.

On the morning of the 21st, the day on which he died, he had it laid before him, as usual, and read it himself in his ordinary recumbent attitude.

Mrs. Hall, in the course of this morning, remarking to him that he appeared better, and expressing her hopes that he would recover; he replied, "Ah! my dear, let us hope for the best, and prepare for the worst." He then stated his opinion that this day would be critical. When his medical attendants met in consultation, a little after noon, he seemed rather better; and Mr. Chandler left him, between one and two, reclining on the sofa, leaning on his elbow with as much muscular energy

as ever.

"Before leaving him (he remarks) I explained to him the plan of proceeding to be observed; on which he bowed, saying, that whatever we wished he would comply with, he would do whatever we desired; begging that he might not interfere with my duties. to other patients, and adding that he thought he should be very comfortable till my return.

"In a very short time, and before I had reached home, I was summoned to behold the last agonizing scene of this great and extraordinary man. His difficulty of breathing had suddenly increased to a dreadful and final paroxysm. It seems, this last paroxysm came on more gradually than was usual with those which preceded. Mr. Hall finding his breathing becoming much worse, first rose more on his elbow, then raised his body, supporting himself with his hand, till the increasing agitation obliged him to rise completely on the sofa, and to place his feet in hot water-the usual means he resorted to for relief in every paroxysm. Mrs. Hall, observing a fixation of his eyes, and an unusual expression on his countenance, and indeed in his whole manner, became alarmed by the sudden impression that he was dying; and exclaimed in great agitation, This can't be dying!' when he replied, It is death-it is death-death! Oh the sufferings of this body!' Mrs. Hall then asking him, 'But are you comfortable in your mind?' he immediately answered, Very comfortable-very comfortable:' and exclaimed, Come, Lord Jesus-Come.'—He then hesitated, as if incapable of bringing out the last word; and one of his daughters, involuntarily as it were, anticipated him by saying, 'Quickly!' on which her departing father gave her a look expressive of the most complacent delight.

"On entering his room, I found him sitting on the sofa, surrounded by his lamenting family; with one foot in the hot water,