Mr. Hall answered by handing him the letter, which contained a very pressing invitation from Lady Drury to the Rectory of Halsted in Suffolk. " Sir," said Mr. Hall, "methinks God pulls me by the sleeve, and tells me it is his will I should rather go to the east than to the west." "Nay," said Dr. Chaderton, " I should rather think that God would have you go westward, for that he hath contrived your engagement before the tender of this letter, which therefore coming too late, may receive a fair and easy answer." "Pardon my dissent," was Mr. Hall's reply; "I well know that divinity was the end whereto I was destined by my parents, and this I have so constantly proposed to myself, that I never meant other than to pass through this western school to it; but I see that God, who found me ready to go the farther way about, now calls me the nearest and directest way to that sacred end." To this the good Doctor had nothing farther to oppose, and though it was the frustration of his journey to London, he recognized the finger of God, and joyfully relinquished his protegée to the better care of Providence. All that remained was to satisfy Lord Popham. This Mr. Hall undertook; and not only was his apology as frankly sustained as it was candidly given, but he was enabled to recompense the former kindness of a friend. For, remembering by whose representations to the Earl of Huntingdon he had obtained his fellowship, he stated the qualifications of Mr. Cholmley so effectually, that the vacant place was transfered to him, and they " two, who came together to the University, must now leave it at once. 19 #

His next step in life is too important not to be told, and his own account is too characteristic to admit of any other relating it. "Being now settled in that sweet and civil country of Suffolk, near to St. Edmund's-Bury, my first work was to build up my house, which was then extremely ruinous; which done, the uncouth solitariness of my life, and the extreme incommodity of that single housekeeping, drew my thoughts, after two years, to condescend to the necessity of a married estate, which God no less strangely provided for me. For walking from the church on Monday in the Whitsunweek, with a grave and reverend minister, Mr. Grandidge, I saw a comely modest gentlewoman standing at the door of that house where we were invited to a weddingdinner, and inquiring of that worthy friend whether he knew her, Yes, quoth he, I know her well, and have bespoken her for your wife.' When I further demanded an account of that answer, he told me she was the daughter of a gentleman whom he much respected, Mr. George Winniff of Bretenham; that out of an opinion had of the fitness of that match for me, he had already treated with her father about it, whom he found very apt to entertain it, advising me not to neglect the opportunity; and not concealing the just praises of the modesty, piety, good disposition, and other virtues. that were lodged in that seemly presence, I listened to the motion as sent from God, and at last upon due prosecution happily prevailed, enjoying the comfortable society of that meet help for the space of forty-nine years."

The increasing comforts of Halsted Rectory could not hinder him from listening soon after to a proposal made by Sir Edmund Bacon, that he should accompany him in a continental tour. The amount of enterprise and resources which such an expedition then demanded can scarcely now be understood. In those days the travelling retinue of a nobleman resembled the Mecca caravan, and he marched under an escort which showed that he was taking his pleasure in an enemy's country. Mr. Hall possessed a high degree of that noble curiosity which compels some to labour in the fire for knowledge, whilst others, waiting till wisdom come, are contentedly ignorant. No one in reading his works can fail to be struck with the indications of a busy, quick, and observant eye. Many of his most striking and original remarks are the result of sagaciously noting, and dexterously applying what passes before the eyes of other men too often to appear uncommon, that is, to appear in any way remarkable. But the proFrom the above narrative, it will be seen that Mr. Campbell has committed an oversight in stating that Hall" was some time master of the school at Tiverton, in Devonshire."-British Poets, II. 260. He was never actually appointed.

spect of exploring a field then so seldom traversed dilated his mind with absolute ecstasy, and he rejoiced in the ungathered harvest of knowledge which it promised. Above all, he wished to visit a Roman Catholic country. He longed to behold popery in reality; not the crippled crouching thing which prolonged a skulking existence in England, but the stalwart galled and raging Apollyon that stalked tremendously through Europe. Sir Edmund travelled in the protection of the English ambassador, and for farther concealment, Mr. Hall exchanged his canonicals for the silken robes and gay colours of a fashionable English gentleman. And notwithstanding the frequent debates into which his zeal betrayed him amongst jesuits and friars, the suspicious excellence of his Latin, and the sturdy protestantism, which only "the hulk of a tall Brabanter" saved from martyrdom at the procession of John the Baptist, he passed undetected from Calais to Brussels, from Nemours to Spa, and then, returning, to Antwerp and Middleburgh. It was our traveller's anxiety to view the ancient college of this last city, which lost him his voyage home. He left his party at Flushing, and lingered so long at Middleburgh, that his friends availed themselves of a favourable wind, and he arrived in time to look after their vessel far at sea. "Sadly returning to Middleburgh, he waited long for an inconvenient and tempestuous passage." In his epistles he has given an account of this expedition, an extract from which will serve the additional purpose of enabling the reader to compare his earlier - more quaint, dense, and cramp - with his later style. His six Decads of Epistles are the first specimens of that familiar and delightful composition since so common in our language. He claims this merit for himself, and we do not know of any British author who published letters of his own before him.

"Besides my hopes, not my desires, I travelled of late; for knowledge partly, and partly for health. There was nothing that made not my journey pleasant, save the labour of the way: which yet was so sweetly deceived by the society of Sir Edmund Bacon, (a gentleman truly honourable, beyond all titles), that I found small cause to complain. The sea brooked not me, nor I it; an unquiet element, made only for wonder and use, not for pleasure. Alighted once from that wooden conveyance, and uneven way, I bethought myself how fondly our life is committed to an unsteady and reeling piece of wood, fickle winds, restless waters, while we may set foot on stedfast and constant earth. Lo, then everything taught me, everything delighted me; so ready are we to be affected with these foreign pleasures, which at home we should overlook. I saw much as one might in such a span of earth in so few months. The time favoured me: for now newly had the key of peace opened those parts which war had before closed; closed (I say) to all English, save either fugitives or captives. All civil occurrences (as what fair cities, what strange fashions, entertainments, dangers, delights, we found), are fit for other ears and winter evenings. What I noted, as a divine, within the sphere of my profession, my paper shall not spare in some part to report. "Along our way, how many churches saw we demolished! Nothing left, but rude heaps, to tell the passenger there hath been both devotion and hostility. Fury hath done that there, which Covetousness would do with us; would do, but shall not: the truth within shall save the walls without. And, to speak truly (whatever the vulgar exclaim), Idolatry pulled down those walls, not rage. If there had been no Hollander to raze them, they would have fallen alone rather than hide so much impiety under their guilty roof. These are spectacles, not so much of cruelty as justice; cruelty of man, justice of God. But (which I wondered at) churches fall and jesuits' colleges rise everywhere. There is no city where those are not either rearing or built. Whence cometh this? Is it, for that devotion is not so necessary as policy? Those men (as we say of the fox) fare best where they are most cursed. None so much spited of their own, none so hated of all, none so opposed by ours; and yet these ill weeds grow. Whosoever lives long shall see them feared of their own, who now hate them; shall see these seven lean kine devour all the fat beasts that feed on the meadows of Tiber.

"At Brussels I saw some English women profess themselves vestals, with a thousand rites, I know not whether more ridiculous or magical. Poor souls! they could not be fools enough at home. It would have made you to pity, laugh, disdain (I know not which more), to see by what cunning sleights and fair pretences that weak sex was fetched into a wilful bondage; and (if these two can agree) willingly constrained to serve a master whom they must and cannot obey. What follows hence? Late sorrow, secret mischief, misery irremediable.

I talked there, in more boldness perhaps than wisdom, with Costerus, a famous jesuit, an old man, more testy than subtile, and more able to wrangle than satisfy. Our discourse was long and roving; and on his part full both of words and vehemency. He spake as at home, I as a stranger: yet so as he saw me modestly peremptory. The particulars would swell my letter too much: it is enough that the truth lost less than I gained.

"At Ghent, a city that commands reverence for age and wonder for the greatness, we fell upon a capuchin novice, who wept bitterly because he was not allowed to make himself miserable. His head had now felt the razor, his back the rod: all that laconical discipline pleased him well, which another being condemned to, would justly account a torment. What hindered then? Piety to his mother would not permit this which he thought piety to God. He could not be a willing beggar, unless his mother would beg unwillingly. He was the only heir of his father, the only stay of his mother: the comfort of her widowhood depended on this her orphan; who now naked must enter into the world of the capuchins, as he came first into this, leaving his goods to the division of the fraternity—the least part whereof should have been hers, whose he wished all. Hence those tears. These men for devout, the jesuits for learned and pragmatical, have engrossed all opinion from other orders. O hypocrisy! No capuchin may take or touch silver. This metal is as very an anathema to them, as the wedge of gold to Achan; at the offer whereof he starts back, as Moses from the serpent: yet he carries a boy with him, that takes and carries it, and never complains of either metal or measure. I saw and laughed at it, and by this open trick of hypocrisy suspected more, more close.

"At Nemours, on a pleasant and steep hill-top, we found one that was termed a married hermit; approving his wisdom above his fellows, that could make choice of so cheerful and sociable a solitariness. Whence, after a delightful passage up the sweet river Mosa, we visited the populous and rich city of Leodium (Liege). I would those streets were more moist with wine than with blood; wherein no day, no night is not dismal to some. No law, no magistrate lays hold on the known murderer if himself list; for three days after this fact, the gates are open and justice shut: private violence may pursue him, public justice cannot: whence some of more hot temper carve themselves revenge; others take up with a small pecuniary satisfaction. 0 England, thought I, happy for justice, happy for security! There you shall find in every corner a maumet (image); at every door a beggar, in every dish a priest. From thence we passed to the Spa, a village famous for her medicinal and mineral waters, compounded of iron and copperas ; the virtue whereof yet the simple inhabitant ascribes to their beneficial saint, whose heavy foot hath made an ill-shaped impression in a stone of the upper well: :- a water more wholesome than pleasant, and yet more famous than wholesome.

"One thing I may not omit without sinful oversight; a short but memorable story which the graphier of that town (though of different religion) reported to more ears than ours. When the last inquisition tyrannized in those parts, and helped to spend the faggots of Ardenne, one of the rest, a confident confessor, being led far to his stake, sung psalms along the way, in a heavenly courage ana victorious triumph. The cruel officer, envying his last mirth, and grieving to see him merrier than his tormentors, commanded him silence. He sings still, as desirous to improve his last breath to

the best. The view of his approaching glory bred his joy; his joy breaks forth into a cheerful confession. The enraged sheriff causes his tongue to be cut off near the roots. Bloody wretch! It had been good music to have heard his shrieks; but to hear his music was torment. The poor martyr dies in silence, rests in peace. Not many months after, our butcherly officer hath a son born with his tongue hanging down upon his chin, like a deer after long chase, which never could be gathered up within the bounds of his lips. O the divine hand, full of justice, full of revenge'

"Let me tell you yet, ere I take off my pen, two wonders more, which I saw in that wonder of cities, Antwerp; - one a solemn mass in a shambles, and that on God's day; while the house was full of meat, of butchers, of buyers; some kneeling, others bargaining, most talking, all busy. It was strange to see one house sacred to God and the belly, and how these two services agreed. The priests did eat flesh, the butchers sold flesh, in one roof at one instant. The butcher killed and sold it by pieces; the priest did sacrifice, and orally devour it whole. The other, an Englishman, so madly devout that he had wilfully housed up himself as an anchorite, the worst of all prisoners. There sat he, pent up for his farther merit, half hunger-starved for the charity of the citizens. It was worth seeing how manly he could bite in his secret want, and dissemble his over-late repentance. I cannot commend his mortification, if he wish to be in heaven; yea in purgatory, to be delivered from thence. I durst not pity him, because his durance was willing, and as he hoped meritorious; but such encouragement as he had from me, such thank shall he have from God, who, instead of an Euge which he looks for, shall angrily challenge him with who required this?""'

The interview with Father Costerus, to which Mr. Hall alludes in the foregoing letter, has been recorded elsewhere, and is characteristic of the times. It often happens that the prevailing notions of the day supply arguments for some great truth, to which controversialists resort more eagerly, and on which they are disposed to lay greater stress, than on those proofs which are alike weighty and conclusive in every age. It has been said that Baxter, in his book on the Immortality of the Soul, perplexed the sceptics of his time by a reference to ghosts and apparitions more than by all his other reasonings; and if they were so inconsistent in their credulity, we can scarcely conceive anything fairer or more irresistible as an argumentum ad homines, however inefficacious it may be in the altered belief of the present generation. It was similar ground which our protestant divine occupied in common with his popish antagonist, without any suspicion of its soundness. An English barrister, a proselyte to popery, and resident at Brussels, was narrating to Sir Edmund Bacon, in a style of extravagant hyperbole, the wonders lately performed by our Lady at Zichem; and to silence the shrewd objections of the worthy knight, had instanced a cure miraculously wrought upon himself. At this moment Mr. Hall entered the apartment, and, there being nothing in his dress to indicate his profession, joined freely in the conversation. "Put case this report of your's be granted for true, I beseech you teach me what difference there is betwixt these miracles and those which were wrought by Vespasian, by some vestals with charms and spells; the rather that I have noted in the late published report, some patient prescribed to come upon a Friday, and some to wash in such a well before their approach, and divers other such charm-like operations.” The confident tone of the lawyer was suddenly lowered by this unexpected interrogatory, and he excused himself from a reply, saying, "I do not profess this kind of scholarship; but we have in the city many famous divines, with whom if it would please you to confer, you might sooner receive satisfaction." Mr. Hall asked who was considered the most eminent divine of the place. The English gentleman named Father Costerus, and undertook to secure him a conference, to which Mr. H. gladly

• We need scarcely say that the author alludes to that monstrous tenet of popery, transub

stantiation.

acceded. Accordingly, in the afternoon the zealous Romanist returned to announce that the father had agreed to the conference, and to accompany him to the Jesuits' College. There arrived, the porter opened the gate, and ejaculating a Deo gratias, admitted the stranger. He did not remain long in the hall till Costerus joined him. After a friendly salutation, the priest ran on in a long and formal oration on the unity of that church in which only men can be saved, when Mr. Hall took advantage of the first moment which civility allowed to interrupt him. "Sir, I beseech you mistake me not. My nation tells you of what religion I am. I come not hither out of any doubt of my professed belief, or any purpose to change it; but moving a question to this gentleman concerning the pretended miracles of the time, he pleased to refer me to yourself for my answer; which motion of his I was the more willing to embrace, for the fame that I have heard of your learning and worth. And if you can give me satisfaction herein, I am ready to receive it." So seating themselves at a table in the end of the hall, they prepared for a vigorous encounter. The jesuit commenced by giving his view of the distinction between miracles diabolical and divine. This did not satisfy Mr. Hall, and he stated his objections. Upon this his opponent diverged into a vehement assault on the English church, which he protested could not yield one miracle. Mr. Hall reclaimed, that in his church they had manifest proofs of the ejection of devils by fasting and prayer. "If it can be proved," cried Costerus, “that ever any devil was dispossessed in your church, I shall quit my religion." In the long and keen debate which followed, Mr. Hall started many questions to which his antagonist could give no satisfactory answers. They soon obtained an additional auditor in Father Baldwin, an English jesuit, who came in and seated himself on a form at the other end of the table, and seemed not a little mortified that a gentleman of his nation should leave the college as unenlightened as he came. The next morning the persevering lawyer arrived with a message from this father, expressing his disappointment that an Englishman should have preferred a conference with a foreigner, when he would have been happy to have his acquaintance and to give him satisfaction. Mr. Hall would as willingly have made arrangements for this interview as for the former, had not a secret signal from Sir Edmund reminded him that they came to travel, not to argue, and that their safe-conduct would not be strengthened by an additional debate. Father Baldwin's message was therefore politely declined, Mr. Hall having no hope of converting the priest, and being resolved that no papist should alter him.

It may be worth while to mention, as justifying an objection to the English ritual strongly urged by the Presbyterians of that day, that in his voyage up the Maese, Mr. Hall had what he calls "a dangerous conflict" with a Sorbonist of the Carmelite order, on the subject of the Eucharist. This friar was trying to persuade the company, from the circumstance of their kneeling at the sacrament, that the English protestants recognised the doctrine of transubstantiation. By what arguments Mr. Hall confuted the calumny we do not know; but the debate waxed so hot, that Sir Edmund was constrained to interfere, and call away his polemical friend from a discussion more manly than discreet, in a country where all argument against the established religion was prohibited by law: - not, however, till the prior indicated his suspicions to the bystanders, by significantly telling them that he had once prepared a suit of green satin for his travels in England. Mr. Hall was afterwards employed by his Majesty King James, to persuade the people of Scotland into kneeling at the communion. It does not appear that he executed his commission with great alacrity; and when he found his church claimed by Roman Catholics on the ground of this ceremony, he might well have shown indulgence for those Presbyterians who saw in it a remnant of popery.

At Spa he composed the second of his three centuries of "Meditations and Vows." We know what lofty musings have arisen in poetic minds in the forests and by the "waves" of Ardenne; but the thoughts of our traveller took their rise in heaven.