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couple, the future essayist, together with and powerful demonstrations of the

one little brother, his sole companion, rose up through the stages of childhood and youth. The scene around was rural. The neighbourhood had then no trace of those factories and other buildings which have since filled the valley of his birth, and which, if they increase our wealth, deface our scenery. So strongly had Mr. Foster this impression of the mortifying obliteration of the whole landscape, that it gave him a strong aversion to revisiting the abode of his infancy. In his childhood he manifested that intense fondness for reading which minds destined to greatness invariably evince, and in which they find their earliest luxury. He attended, with his parents, the ministry of Dr. Fawcett, whose notice he early attracted, and whose masculine style of discoursing in the pulpit must have had no mean influence in exciting and strengthening such a mind as that of young Foster. Had the essayist left to us a "memoir written by himself" of his early training, mention would doubtless have been made of his pastor, not only in respect of his kindness and generosity as a friend, but also of the influence of his character and ministry, on the mind of one destined to rival the noblest intellects of his age. Not that a mind of Fawcett's order could have much in common with Foster. His influence is chiefly to be traced in that entire hold which evangelical truth had upon the faculties of his young hearer,,—a hold which betokened the deep and perfect conviction produced by fair and manly proof. In this quality, of the judicious, intelligent statement, and convincing proof of scripture doctrine, the ministry of the author of the essay on Anger could have been inferior to none of his own day. Under a mental and religious training not dissimilar, young Hall, about the same period, was rising up at Arnsby, a hearer of his excellent father's sound

truth as it is in Jesus. Mr. Foster, any more than his great equal Hall, never betrays, through the whole range of his subsequent speculation, the misgiving of one who had an imperfect grapple of the truth, or who had defectively adverted to the evidence by which each doctrine can be scripturally evinced. For this result we are surely indebted to the vigorous character of Dr. Fawcett's ministry. The world is indebted to him, under the blessing of the Spirit, for that element of evangelical truth which pervades and sanctifies the writings of one whose genius, whether for good or evil, could not exert itself without producing a vast effect on the literature of the age, not only in his own, but in other countries. Let it be imagined that a mind of Foster's order, had risen to its final gigantic energy, exempt from the control of the truth as it is in Jesus, and from that reverence for real piety as springing from faith in Christ, which he had the early privilege of appreciating! We could have no fear, of course, for the truth itself; but what a mind had been lost to the Christian cause, and what an influence of, at least, doubtful, if not fatal, tendency, might the brilliant pages of Foster have been now exerting! Probably, under no adverse or irreligious training, could he have become a decided infidel, either of the metaphysical, or of the sensual class. His force of intellect and sympathy with the grand and noble, would have spurned the sophistry of Hume. His moral taste would have despised the modern infidelity of the socialist. But the midway, aerial region was open to his fancy, betwixt earth and heaven, betwixt the base and the spiritual, betwixt grovelling folly, and inspired truth, the land of imaginative forms and phantoms, principles, and spirits, and emanations of nature,-without substance, without certainty, without basis, to which more

than one eminent writer of our day, are beckoning the aspirant minds of the age. Instead of which we have in Foster exertions of intellect and fancy, which are never more safe than when they are most beautiful, never more healthful than when they are most enchanting. We have no warning to send on with the young reader into his writings. His speculations have a basis of truth on the rock of ages, and if they rise often, and tower higher than the air-built castles of Mr. T. Carlyle, their elevation is never perilous; their loftiest pinnacles rise on true principles, and in just gradation, from the foundation.

If we have dwelt longer than seems in fair proportion to our limited plan, upon this early period of the essayist's history, let it be remembered that this period was, in respect of the all important element religion, the most influential of the whole, and most decisive of his future course. At this time, the grand outline both of right speculation and right purpose, was definitely laid. Now, in his youth, the mind became fixed to its moorings, from which, exposed to many a gust, it never drifted away. Now he acquired that wisdom from above, which was to imbue his writings with truth, purity, and benevolence. On this period, surely, the great essayist himself would lay greatest stress, and linger longest.

perienced this great change. At seventeen, we behold the youth who was afterwards to startle the world as by the appearance of a new and brighter planet in the intellectual hemisphere, offering himself as a candidate for baptism before the church at Hebden Bridge; and, after testifying his faith in the Saviour in that ordinance, uniting with his delighted and grateful parents, and the rest of the church, in celebrating the dying love of Jesus! What an example should this be to the intelligent youth of Britain! Who can plead that the religion of Christ cramps the powers, or diminishes the lustre, of genius? The mind of Foster was from the earliest period in the keeping of religion, and hence will arise the permanence of his usefulness and fame. Let it never be forgotten that he was an example of early piety.

Very soon after his baptism, his friend and pastor, aware of his singular powers, and wishing to turn his attention to the ministry, received him generously under his roof, that he might obtain a classical education under his own eye. Here he remained for four years, till he was one and twenty; and then, under the patronage of Dr. Fawcett, he entered the baptist college at Bristol. Here his stay did not extend beyond a twelvemonth. What were the reasons of his leaving so soon, we have not heard. It could not be dissatisfaction with his tutor, for at this time commenced that friendship betwixt the pupil and the Rev. Joseph Hughes, then sole tutor, which was suspended only at the death of the latter. Nor is it probable that Foster's classical attainments were in advance of the instruction communicated at the college. We have never heard that he read profoundly in the classics, and for mathematics it is said he had no relish. He probably became impatient of the uniform routine of

Nor have we made the above remarks in forgetfulness of the necessity of the divine influence to renovate the heart, or of the fact that such influence descended on the mind of Mr. Foster during the period now adverted to. The Spirit of God alone, as he emphatically and ever testified, can imbue the soul with the love of the truth, can break the heart, can humble its pride, and bring every thought into perfect subjection to Christ. How interesting it is to know that before he was seventeen, probably academical study, and preferred the long before, young Foster had ex-freedom of consulting the bent of his

own genius. His reading lay largely in English literature, history, travels, memoirs, the essayists, treatises on mental and moral philosophy, and divinity. This enumeration does not necessarily announce anything very decided, as study. Yet all Mr. Foster's reading became study. It involved mental exertion, not to understand his authors, but to correct or improve upon them; to push further their most recondite conclusions; to refine upon their most striking remarks. Much as Mr. Foster read, and he was almost always so employed, reading was the least part of the process going on. What would the literary world give to possess itself of the trains of thought, corrective or imaginative, which rapidly formed themselves in his mind, and accompanied the course of his silent attention over the pages of our profoundest and most brilliant writers!

On leaving Bristol College in 1792, he proceeded to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where he supplied, for a short time, as well as in some places in the neighbourhood. His movements at this period are difficult to be traced. All the information we are able to supply for the next ten years is the following:-that he resided some time at Dublin, and gave instruction to pupils, some of whom are still living, as well as probably attended some of the lectures at the university; that he thence came to Colchester and supplied the baptist church there; that after, not many months, he became stationed at Downend, near Bristol, and was pastor of the church there for several years. During his residence in that neighbourhood, he most probably became acquainted with the lady to whom he was afterwards married, and whose influence did so much to draw forth the resources of his mind in the essays which, not long after, he began to meditate.

We now reach a period from which his history is more easily followed. In

the summer of 1804, on the recommendation of Mr. Hall, he became pastor of the church at Sheppard's Barton, Frome. In one respect his position at Frome singularly resembled that of his friend Mr. Hall at Cambridge; Mr: Foster followed the Rev. Job David who had embraced Socinianism, as Mr. Hall had become successor to the celebrated Robinson. As the settlement of the latter at Cambridge was the instrument in the hand of providence to preserve that church from the infection of their pastor's errors, so by the coming of Mr. Foster to Frome, everything was done to counteract the effect of Mr. David's later ministry. All the members of the church, who had left Mr. David the moment his views became declared, and had dispersed, some to hear Mr. Saunders, and others Mr. Sibree, returned gladly to their own place of worship, to listen to the strains of evangelical truth from such a man as Mr. Foster. In his discourses he was very far from setting himself formally to refute the errors of his predecessor. Only a very few had imbibed those errors, and their influence died silently away. Yet it is in the recollection of some of his hearers that nothing could be more effective than his incidental references to Socinian views when they came in his way. Often would his scathing rebukes fall like lightning, and as instantaneously, on the tenets in question. This was always incidentally, but it was with so sure an aim at some vital part, and with such resistless effect, that if any persons infected with those opinions remained, they must either soon have retired from so terrific a battery, or have yielded to the force of truth.

Mr. Foster's continuance as pastor at Sheppard's Barton, was only for a period of two years, but they were years of the prime and vigour of his preaching. He was now forty-three years of age, and his powers at their most brilliant pitch.

His congregation, though not large, numbered many families of respectability and opulence, for whom his preaching would of course be more calculated, than for the poorer part of his audience. Yet no one laboured more than he, to reduce the expression of his thoughts to the level of the most uninformed, without sacrificing the thoughts themselves. This was a grand characteristic of Mr. Foster's preaching. Whatever was the language employed, the hearer, if competent to judge, would perceive it was the simplest in which the thought could endure to be expressed. He would often be most successful in seizing and kindling the attention of the least intelligent of his hearers. Yet his ministry, amid the population of a provincial town, and unaided by what is attractive to such a population, a loud and powerful delivery, was not adapted to draw a large audience. By those who heard him, he was appreciated and beloved. It may be added, that he was singularly endeared to the poor of his flock, and often gave them his society. Nor did he practice this as a sort of condescension. He had no idea there could be condescension in the case. He revered man as man, and the distinctions of rank or opulence which overbear the self-respect of ordinary minds, never probably excited any feeling in his, but were contemplated with simple indifference. It will be easily believed that his society was valued in those cultivated circles, where his unequalled powers were appreciated and admired. But the greatest satisfaction of his friends was to witness the piety of his character, a piety which was not eclipsed by his genius, but which controlled and directed its exertions. Yet had he his friendship also among persons in moderate or humble circumstances, and amongst the poor of his flock. Letters are now before us written in a strain of tenderness and sympathy to the family with whom he lodged,

such as friendship alone dictates. It would be a singular treat unquestionably to meet Foster at the table of one of his wealthier friends, listened to with avidity by all, yet not without some apprehension, if strangers were of the party, lest he should sport some of his occasional sallies, on politics civil or ecclesiastical, and by some unanswerable stroke of satire or wit, strike at the whole fabric of "things as they are" in church or state. But it would be more interesting still to follow him to one of the abodes of his poor people, where he would be seated at the round deal table taking his tea with an aged couple! To witness the perfect conten: of the mighty magician of thought with these poor members of his church! The entire enjoyment of his talk or rather gossip with them! His interest in their little affairs, not affected, but sincere, and for the time, engrossing! His respectfulness and kindness! His sympathy in their trials and griefs! He commonly took a small parcel of tea with him, and requested his poor friends to make him a good cup; and after spending great part of the evening with them, wholly as one of themselves, he would slide a half crown piece under the cup, and kindly take his leave. These details may seem insignificant or undignified, but to us they throw so true and genuine a light on the heart of such a man as Mr. Foster, that we cannot but attach a value to them. The great writer with whom Dugald Stewart, or Sir James Mackintosh, or Parr, would have coveted to spend an evening, was one of the most simple-hearted and accessible of beings, familiar as a brother with any member of his flock, in whose piety he had confidence. It may be mentioned, as further evidence of this feature of his character, that to the last, and after nearly forty years separation, he remembered the names and circumstances of his poor friends, and would ask in the

most kind manner respecting their affairs., tences. This remark applies, however,

Whenever he visited Frome in later years, one whole day or more would be devoted to visiting his poorer acquaintance; and to each, if necessitous, he usually made some present.

During this period of Mr. Foster's pastorate at Sheppard's Barton it was that he composed his essays, which first made him known as an author to the world. He then lodged at the ancient looking house near Rook Lane Chapel, where the excellent Sibree preached. To the vestry of the chapel he had free access, and there, removed from interruption and noise, he composed much of his essays. The history of these essays is generally known. They were addressed, in the form they now appear in, to the lady to whom he had been some time engaged; and, in fact, were written at her request. When completed, he took a journey to London, and negotiated with Longman for their publication. Their appearance speedily drew the attention of the literary world. They gave example of a new and profounder vein of thought than had of late been current. Retaining the free and variable form of essays, they gave specimens of sustained investigation worthy of the elaborate treatise, blended with a colouring of fancy richer than the poetry of any author since Milton. A sort of classical style, wordy but not inelegant, had become so current, since the publication of Johnson's writings, that as Cowper says of Pope, every writer had his tune by heart. It seemed impossible to write after any other manner. The native freedom and fire of Hall's own -genius seem, at times, arrested by the prevailing influence. Confessedly the greatest master of composition this nation has produced, and placed at the head of English writers, by the suffrage of the most consummate judges, his style of composition yielded not a little to the Johnsonian manner and march of sen

not to his first compositions, nor his very last, but to some of the intermediate productions of his pen. Mr. Foster more effectually broke through the spell. Without discarding the classical use of single words, he broke through the dull uniformity of the established structure of sentences, and of the iambic rhythm at the close, as exemplified by such rhetoricians as Blair. He permitted his thoughts to cast themselves in any form or measure they chose, consistent with the perspicuous and forcible expression of his meaning. He had a hearty aversion to what he called the making sentences by rule. Whether he carried this negligence to an extreme hurtful to perspicuity and compactness of expression, on some occasions, may admit of question. The style of composition in his treatises on Popular Ignorance, and Missions, is far more uncontrollably vagrant without rule, than that of his first publication; or of his last, the preface to Doddridge, and even the character of Hall.

The essays on "Decision of Character," &c., came out in 1805, in two volumes, duodecimo. Nor was it long before reviewers began to give the note of applause to the public. But one review outweighed all others in Mr. Foster's estimation, not merely on account of the generous eulogium it bestowed, but on account of the superior beauty of the piece itself, as well as the eminence of the critic,-a consummate judge, if ever there was one, of fine writing. This was the article written by Mr. Hall in the Eclectic, an article which Foster read with unsuppressed exultation, observing to a friend at the moment, "if one had done nothing else but draw such an article from Hall, it would be something." Such were the feelings of mutual admiration which possessed these great men. Nothing can be more noble than the tone of Hall's review, in which the exceptions taken

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