MISCELLANEOUS. ANECDOTES OF ROBERT HALL. BY REV. DR. BELCHER. The following facts, connected with Robert Hall, are not generally known; indeed, not more than one or two of them have yet been printed. Every thing relating to so distinguished a man, will, like the filings of gold, be laid up; not entirely as "hidden treasures," but to be sometimes brought out for admi ration and use. 66 Mr. Hall was no very great friend to the reports generally presented on anniversary occasions of public societies, and printed by order of the Society;" regarding them as often presenting highly colored statements, or as displaying the talents of the secretary, rather than a simple recital of facts.His impression was, that on this account they were seldom read. To a friend who was speaking of the importance of a passing circumstance being made known, he remarked, “ Sir, never put into a report what you wish known, but if you have any thing that for form's sake you must not tell, but really wish to conceal, put it in a report, and take my word for it, sir, that no one will ever know it." Those who intimately knew Robert Hall, admired him more for his piety than even for his greatness. One illustration of the humble and lowly character of his religion, was shown in the fact that a few miles from Leicester lived a plain, poor, and to a very great extent, uneducated minister, who was very eminent for an amiable and holy spirit of religion. Nothing ever delighted the great man at Leicester more than to go once or twice a year to spend the night in the humble abode of this worthy brother, that they might occupy three or four hours together in prayer. I was once present with him at a public dinner at Northampton, soon after he had published one of his controversial volumes. The subject was adverted to at the table, and a minister of another denomination, since deceased, addressing Mr. Hall, said, "I certainly think, sir, that the letter of scrip 4 ture is against you, but assuredly its whole spirit is in your favor." "It is utterly impossible, sir," replied the great man, "that you can be right; for the letter of scripture can never contradict its spirit." In the summer of 1818, a small new house for worship was dedicated in the village of Streatham, a few miles from which is Cambridge, where Mr. Hall was then on a visit. The good old pastor of the church, the Rev. Joseph Howlett, had formerly been a member of the Baptist Church in the town just named, when Mr. Hall was its pastor; and feelings of the best kind had ever been cherished between them. It was known that on the day appointed for the dedicatory services, Mr. Hall had been solicited to preach to a large and wealthy congregation, on a public occasion, and that his reply was, "I cannot give you an answer yet, sir; the chapel at Streatham is to be opened on that day, and I have some expectation that I may be asked to preach. If so, my respect for its excellent pastor, and my hope of getting the poor people a few pounds extra, will certainly take me there." He was solicited, promptly acceded to the request, and gave us a sermon, the sentiments and delivery of which, seem even at this distant period, to have been but just impressed on my memory. The reader will kindly imagine a plain meeting-house, in a country village, capable of seating about three hundred persons, into which, however, not less than five hundred were crowded. It was a remarkable assemblage. Professors, Episcopal and dissenting clergymen, might almost be counted by scores; while wealthy merchants and respectable farmers mingled with laborers, in the frocks peculiar to the English peasantry, and old women in their red cloaks and heavy pattens, which would indeed have made an American lady smile. The introductory devotional exercises being concluded, Mr. Hall rose to announce his text: "Let us not sleep as do others; but let us watch and be sober;" 1 Thess. v. 6. His feebleness of voice, and hesitancy of delivery, so often spoken of as disappointing strangers in the commencement of his sermons, soon disappeared; and while the whole congregation were standing, the poor laborers, with their mouths wide open and tears streaming down their cheeks, the "eloquent orator" stood pouring out the simplest and most fervent strains of holy persuasion to which I ever listened. With what clearness and force did he represent men as inactive to all that is good and useful, as dreaming of wisdom while they indulged the highest folly, and living and dying under the influence of mistakes; with what earnestness did he remind his hearers that they lived in the full day of evangelical light and privileges,--that in their happiness all the holy beings in the universe were interested,and that for them to perish, would present a scene too awful even for angels to form an adequate idea of. An appeal to professing christian parents, as to their duty to their children, was so affecting that the house was literally "Bochim"-a place of weeping. The preacher himself was so moved as to be compelled to pause and spend a few moments in composing his agitated feelings. Having done this, he advanced in his own peculiar manner, to the front of the pulpit, and with a countenance, every feature of which spoke, he said, "My brethren, I make no apology for weeping; that creature must be more or less than a man who can speak or think of these things without emotions too strong for either words or tears to convey to others." It was a hallowed scene-a sublime spectacle.The rich and the poor wept together, and the preacher seemed to be forgotten, as he forgot himself, in the magnitude of his subject. Never could we be more forcibly reminded of him who beheld the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and wept over them! The venerable Dr. Philips, of South Africa, when once in company with Mr. Hall, asked him, "Sir, how is it. that we, on the other side of the earth, know greatly more of the intentions of the government than our friends at home, living but a few doors from Downing Street?" Hall replied, "the case is plain, sir, the case is plain; the darkest part of the room is just under the candlestick." - The late John Foster, the Essayist, after having just read an account of some new sect, erroneous on the whole, but adopting immersion as the introduction to their fellowship, said to Mr. Hall," it is exceedingly mortifying, sir, to see how almost every new class of heretics embrace our views of baptism; how do you account for it, sir ?" "Oh, in the easiest way in the world, sir," replied Hall, "common sense is on our side, and these persons pay us the highest compliment in the world. They see we are right, and know we have the finest pastures in the world, and they think they cannot do better than to turn their flocks into them." The general character of Mr. Hall, was that of one of the humblest of men; but there were seasons when his natural vanity would show itself. On one occasion of this sort, he received a reproof which he never forgot, and which is known to have had great influence upon his conduct for many years before his death. The late Isaiah Birt, and he, were very ințimate friends, and were once together at a public meeting in London, where a sermon was expected from some preacher, who disappointed them. The task, consequently, devolved on Mr. Hall, or Mr. Birt. Hall was asked to preach, but would give no answer to the request. The two friends walked together to the house of God, and the answer was not forthcoming even after the service had commenced. Birt saw the truth of the matter, and prepared himself for the event. At length, having looked at the congregation, and probably hesitating as to its high intellectual character, Mr. Hall turned to his friend, and said, "Well, Birt, I think I shall not preach." Birt tapped him on the shoulder, and replied, "No, brother Hall, you shall not; you are in a very improper state of mind to preach to poor sinners in the name of our Great Master," and immediately ascended the pulpit, and delivered one of his most pathetic and powerful sermons. Why, sir," said Hall, when once telling the story," my dear brother Birt inflicted a stroke, the salutary influence of which, I shall carry with me to the grave." 66 An anecdote has lately been told in some of our papers, relative to Mr. Hall sarcastically remarking of a popular preacher, that his preaching was perpetual motion without advance; corresponding with this, was a complaint he once uttered in the hearing of the writer, that a minister of his own neighborhood had been keeping his people for seven years in a thick fog, lest they should discover that he had made no progress in his studies. THE SERPENT AND CHILD. A MOTHER's eye its watches kept, Where wild-flowers mingled green and rank. Disporting gay in summer's noon, The infant's calm cherubic face, When, lo! her anxious eye beholds Unheeding of a mother's fears, "Thank heaven! thus safe, my dearest boy! She cried and clasped him in her arms. Ah! mother, nay! though out of sight, A deadlier tooth hath pierced his heart! There, coil'd within its closest cell, No mother's heel can crush; no knife No drugs, no remedy can calm Those rankling pains-but Gilead's balm. The soul's immedicable wound To heal-but one Physician's found; JESUS alone must bruise, within, That hydra-headed serpent-SIN. J. H. |