was administered shortly before the company dispersed.
Mr. Hall again got the floor to deliver one of his more formal moral
homilies. "And, my dear friends--my very dear friends," he went
on, resting his finger-ends upon the table, and inclining his body
affectionately towards his auditors, "may I, as an old man--I think the
oldest of any of you here present--conclude by asking your indulgence
for an illustration from the personal experience and custom of one who
may, I think--who at least has ever striven to be, a humble Christian
gentleman--may I, my dear friends, cite this simple example of what I
have been attempting to inculcate from my own personal practice, and
that of my very dear and valued wife, Mrs. Hall? It has for very many
years been our constant habit, before seeking rest at night, to kneel
down together at our bedside, and to implore, together, the Divine
blessing upon the efforts and labors of the foregoing day. And before
offering up that petition to the Throne of Grace, my friends "--here
the orator's voice vibrated a little with emotion--"we have ever been
sedulous to ask each other, and to question our own hearts, as to
whether, during that day, some human fellow-creature had been made
better, or happier, because we had lived. And very seldom has it
happened--very seldom, indeed, my dear friends, has it happened--that
we were unable to say to ourselves, and to each other, that, during
that day, some fellow-creature, if not more than one, had had cause for
thankfulness because we had lived. And now I will beg of you, my dear
friends," added Mr. Hall, producing his large, white pocket-handkerchief
and patting his eyes with it, "to pardon a personal allusion, made in
fulness of heart and brotherly feeling, and if there be found in it
anything calculated to assist any of you towards a right comprehension
of our Christian responsibilities towards our fellow-man, I entreat that
you take it into your hearts and bosoms, and may it be sanctified unto
you. I have done."

This report may be relied upon as substantially accurate, for the
reporter made a note of the apologue and exhortation soon afterwards.
Mrs. Hall, like her husband, was of Irish birth, and an agreeable
and clever woman. They were both born in 1800, and died, she in her
eighty-second, he in his ninetieth year. He remained the same Hall to
the very end of his long chapter, and really, if no one was the better
because he had lived, I don't know