ainly think, that such an account might be curious, and in some measure, entertaining. But we should really feel so much compassion for such a character, that we could not be very deeply interested about him, except as we could charitably indulge some hope of his having found the truth at last, and of his example being likely to prove useful by way of warning to others. Such characters are, indeed, very apt to suppose, that there is something very interesting about them, and that much credit is due to them for having embraced and discarded by turns, the various and discordant systems of opinions which abound in the world. But the truth is, that there must be some radical defect, either in the reasoning powers, or in the moral dispositions of persons of this kind, which ought to be seriously deplored rather than ostentatiously exposed to view, and which should be treated as a weakness, rather than considered as a meritorious distinction of character. Some good observations follow in this letter, on the supposed account of the period between childhood and maturity, and on the periods during which the mind made its greatest progress in the enlargement of its faculties. The question as to the degree of explicitness which ought to prevail through the supposed memoirs is then discussed, from which we extract the following lively thoughts: "It has several times, in writing this essay, occurred to me, what strangers men may be to one another, whether as to the influences to which they owe their moral conformation, or as to the more shaded part of the train of practical circumstances through which they have winded. What strangers too we may be, with persons who have any power and caution of concealment, to the deepest principles of the present character. Each mind possesses in its interior mansions a solemn retired apartment peculiarly its own, into which none but itself and the Divinity can enter. In this retired place, the passions mingle and fluctuate in unknown agitations. Here all the fantastic and all the tragic shapes of ima gination have a haunt where they can neither be invaded nor descried. Here the sur rounding human beings, while quite unconscious of it, are made the subjects of deliberate thought, and many of the estimates and designs regarding them kept in silence. Here projects, convictions, vows, are confusedly scattered, and the records of past life are laid. Here in solitary state sits Conscience, surrounded by her own thunders, which sometimes sleep, and sometimes roar, while the world does not know. If the secrets of this apartment could have been brought forth into many a piece of biography which a partial and ignorant friend has exhibited in all the pomp of eulogy and splendour, it might have made a very different appearance." (p. 102-104.) The essay closes with some severe but just animadversions on the shameless effrontery of many writers of their own lives, in recording without reserve their impiety and their vices, and glorying in their shame. Among such writings, Mr. Foster seems disposed to assign the first place of infamy to the disgraceful "confessions" of Rousseau; but yet he speaks of them and of their author with more lenity than we could have wished. He even pays to the "transcendant genius" of Rousseau the homage of his "admiration;" a mode of speaking which to us appears not very reconcileable with those feelings that ought to predominate in the mind of a Christian. We should as soon have thought (as was intimated before on a somewhat similar occasion) of admiring that horrid species of wit with which the embellished the narrative of their revolutionary cut throats of France murders, as of admiring the genius, however transcendant, the efforts of which were uniformly, and but too successfully, directed to the propa gation of infidelity and vice. The impious reference of Rousseau to the Eternal Judge, with respect to this record of his crimes, leads Mr. Foster to remind his readers, "That the history of each of our lives, though not written by ourselves or any mortal hand, is thus far unerringly recorded by another Being, will one day be finished in truth, and one other day, yet to come, will be brought to a final estimate. A mind accustomed to grave reflections is sometimes led involuntarily into a curiosity of awful conjecture, which asks, What are those very words which I should read this night, if, as to Belshazzar, a hand of prophetic shade were sent to write before me the identical sentences in which that final estimate will be declared ?" (p. 112, 113.) The view which we have given of this essay will be sufficient to enable our readers to form some idea of its merits. The subject is undoubtedly important and interesting to every one, but particularly so to the serious Christian. We enter tain, however, some doubts as to the general expediency of writing the proposed memoirs. To those who, under the divine blessing, have made considerable advances in the knowledge and practice of true religion, it would certainly be very interesting, and perhaps advantageous, not only to trace the progressive formation of their characters up to any given period; but also to continue such an account of themselves, as they proceed in the journey of life. But the task would require so much real self-knowledge, such freedom from prejudices and prepossessions, and so sound and well-informed a judgment, that it could not be safely recommended to the generality even of sensible, and well disposed people. They would be in considerable danger of indulging vanity and self love, and of cherish ing rather than correcting what was erroneous and culpable in their sentiments and habits. In cases, however, which properly admit of such memoirs as have been described, we think, that in order to promote their real usefulness, much more should be comprehended in them than Mr. Foster has stated.-In addition to the various circumstances which he has pointed out, as deserving of notice in such a history, the writer of it, if he be a religious man, should diligently mark the occurrences in which the hand of divineprovidence, and the influence of divine grace, may be traced in the formation of his character. The temptations and trials which he has undergone should also be distinctly noticed, and the effects which they have produced on his mind. such memoirs should also be more The object and end of strongly enforced than has been done by the author of these essays. Utility rather than amusement should be steadily kept in view; and that which is declared to belong to the Scriptures, should be characteristic of the memoirs in question: they should be rendered profitable for correction, reproof, and instruction in righteousness, that the writer of them may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. In this view, they may be made highly useful: in any other, they may be the source of much evil: or to say the most, will merely serve to fill up those vacant hours which might be less innocently employed. The second essay is ON DECISION OF CHARACTER.-It is introduced by a very just and lively delineation of the character of an undecisive man, which is followed by that of a mau of decision. An extract or two from each, will give our readers a suthcient idea of the author's sentiments and manner in this essay. "A person of undecisive character wonders how all the embarrassments in the creation happened to meet exactly in his way, beyond the lot of any other mortal. Incapable of constructing a firin purpose on the basis of things as they are, he is often employed in vain speculations on some different supposable state of circumstances, which would have saved him from all this perplexity and irresolution; and deems himself as much entitled to complain, as if all those fancied circumstances had certain ly belonged to his nativity, and, by a malignant fate, had been dissevered from his life. He thinks, what a determined course he could have pursued, if his talents, his health, his age, had been different; if he had been acquainted with some one person sooner, if his friends were, in this or the other point, different from what they are; or if Fortune had showered on him her favours. Thus he is occupied-instead of catching with a vigilant eye, and seizing with a strong hand, all the possibilities of his actual situation. "A man without decision can never be said to belong to himself, since, if he dared to assert that he did, the puny force of some cause, about as powerful, you would have supposed, as a spider, may capture the hapless boaster the very next moment, and triumphantly shew the futility of the determinations by which he was to have proved the independence of his understanding and his will. He belongs to whatever can seize him; and innumerable things do actually verify their claim on him, and arrest him as he tries to go along; as twigs and chips, floating near the edge of a river, are intercepted by every weed, and whirled in every little eddy. Having concluded on a design, he may pledge himself to accomplish it, if the five hundred changing feelings and incidents, which may come within the week, will let him. As his character precludes all foresight of his conduct, he may sit and wonder what form and direction his views and actions are destined to take to-morrow; as a farmer looks at the clouds for uncertain conjectures what are, then, to be his proceedings. (p. 120-122.) "It is inevitable, that the regulation of every man's plans of action must greatly depend on the events of life; but it is a great difference whether the man be subservient to the events, or the events be made subservient to the man. Some men seem to have been taken along by a succession of events, and, as it were, handed forward in quiet passiveness, from one to another, without any determined principle in their own characters, by which they could constrain those events to serve a design formed antecedently to them, or in defiance of them. The events seized them, as a neutral material, not they the events. Others, advancing through life with an internal, invincible determination of mind, have seem. ed almost to choose events, and to command them. It is wonderful, how even the apparent casualties of life seem to bow to a spirit that will not bow to them, and consent to assist a design, after having in vain attempted to frustrate it." "You may have seen a man of this strong character in a state of indecision concerning some affair in which it was re quisite for him to determine, because it was requisite for him to act. But, in this case, his manner would assure you that he would not remain long undecided." "It is characteristic of such a mind to think for effect; and the pleasure of escaping from temporary doubt gives an additional impulse to the force with which it is carried into action. Such a man will not re-examine his conclusions with endless repetition, and he will not be delayed long by consulting other persons, after he has ceased to consult himself. He cannot bear to sit still among unexecuted decisions, and unattempted projects. We wait to hear of his achievements, and are confident we shall not wait long. The possibility, or the means, may not be obvious to us, but we know that every thing will be attempted, and that such a mind is like a river, which, in whatever manner it is obstructed, will absolutely make its way somewhere." (p. 123-126.) The advantages possessed by a mind of this latter character, Mr. Foster thus cousiders-that its passions are not wasted, as in the long wavering determinations of the indecisive man-that it exempts from a great deal of interference and persecution, to which an irresolute inan is subjected-and that a person of this character will not only secure but he will also obtain by degrees, the freedom of acting for himself, the coincidence of those in whose company he is to transact the business of life, particularly if he can clothe his firmness in a moderate degree of insinuation. The last resource of such a character, the author states to be hard and inflexible pertiuacity, on which it may be allowed to rest its strength, after finding it can be effectual in none of its milder forms. From this description of the advantages of decision of character, Mr. Foster passes to an examination of the elements of which it is composed. As a previous observation, says the author, it is beyond all doubt, that very much depends on the constitution of the bodv. The first prominent mental characteristic of the person described, he states to be complete confidence in his own judgment-Upon this point we meet with the following sensible remarks: "It cannot be supposed, that I am maintaining such an absurdity as that a man's complete reliance on his own judgment is necessarily a proof of that judgment being correct and strong. Intense stupidity may be in this point the rival of clear-sighted wisdom. I bal once a slight knowledge of a person whom no mortal, not even Cromwell, could have excelled in the article of confidence in his judgment, and consequent inflexibility of conduct; while at the same time his successive schemes were ill-judged, to a degree that made his disappointments ridiculous rather than pitiable. He was not an example of that kind of obstinacy which I have mentioned before, for he considered his measures, and did not want for reasons which satisfied bitself, beyond a doubt, of their being most judicious. This confidence of opinion may be assumed and dishonoured by fools, but it belongs to a very different character, and without it there can be no dignified actors in human affairs. "If, after observing how foolish this confilence appears as a feature in a weak character, it be enquired, what it is, in a justly decisive person's manner of thinking, which authorizes him in this firm assurance, that his view of the concerns before him is comprehensive and accurate; I answer, that he is justified in this assured persuasion, because he is conscious that objects are presented to his mind with an exceedingly distinct and perspicuous aspect, not like the shapes of moonlight, or like Ossian's ghosts, dim forms of uncircumscribed shade; because he sees the different points of the subject in an arranged order, not in dispersed fragments; because in each deliberation the main object keeps its clear pre-eminence, and he perceives the bear ings which the subordinate and conducive ones have on it; because, perhaps several dissimilar trains of thought lead him to the same conclusion; and because his judgment is not servile to the mood of his feelings." (p. 139-141.) Another essential principle of the character in question, the author considers to be a total incapability of surrendering to indifference or delay the serious determinations of the mind. In the discussion of this point the reader will find many just and animated observations, and several striking illustrations. From the latter we cannot avoid selecting the following sketch of the charac. ter of our great philanthropist Mr. Howard : "The energy of his determination was so great, that if, instead of being habitual, it could have appeared in an intermitted form, operating only for a short time, on particular occasions, it would have seemed a ve hement impetuosity; but by being continuous, it had an equability of manner, which scarcely appeared to exceed the tone of a calm constancy. It was the calmness of an intensity, kept uniform by the nature of the human mind forbidding it to be more, and the character of the individual forbidding it to be less. The habitual passion of his mind was a measure of feeling almost equal to the temporary extremes and paroxysms of common minds: as a great river, in its customary state, is equal to a small or moderate one, when swollen to a torrent. "The moment of finishing his plans in deliberation, and commencing them in action, was the same. I wonder what must have been the amount of that bribe, in emolument or pleasure, that would have detained him a week inactive after their final adjustment. The law which carries water down a declivity was not more unconquerable and invariable, than the determination of his feelings toward the main object. This object he pursued with a devotion which seemed to annihilate to his perceptions all others: it was a stern pathos of soul on which the beauties of nature and of art had no power. He had no leisure feeling which he could spare, to be diverted among the innumerable varieties of the extensive scene which he traversed; all his subordinate feelings lost their separate existence and operation, by falling into the grand one. There have not been wanting trivial minds to mark this as a fault in bis character. But the mere man of taste ought to be silent respecting such a man as Howard; he is above their sphere of judgment. The invisible Spirits, who fulfil their commission of philanthropy among mortals, do not care about pictures, statues, and sumptuous buildings:-no more did he. Or at least, regarding every moment as under the claims of imperious duty, his curiosity waited in vain for the hour to come when his conscience should present the gratification of it as the most sacred duty of that hour. If he was still at every hour, where it came, fated to feel the attractions of the fiue arts but the second claim, they might be sure of their revenge; for no other man will ever visit Rome under such a despotic consciousness of duty, as to refuse himself time for surveying the magnificence of its ruins. Such a sin against taste is very far beyond the reach of common saintship to commit. It implied an inconceivable severity of conviction, that he had one thing to do; and that he, who would do some great thing in this. short life, must apply himself to the work with such a concentration of his forces, as to idle spectators who live only to amuse themselves, looks like insanity. "His attention was so strongly and tenaciously fixed on his object, that even at the greatest distance, like the Egyptian Pyramids to travellers, it stood confest to his sight with a luminous distinctness as if it were nigh, and beguiled the toilsome length of labour and enterprise, by which he was to reach it. It was so conspicuous before him, that not a step deviated from the direction, and every movement and every day was an approximation. If it were possible to deduct from his thoughts and actions all that portion which had not a methodical and strenuous reference to an end, the solid mass which would remain, would spread over an amazing length of Some observations then follow on letter contains some additional mis- life, if attenuated to the ordinary style of weakness oppressed. We regret human deliberation and achievement. One less thinks of displaying such a character for the purpose of example, than for that of mortifying comparison."(p. 156 -160.) Mr. Foster adduces some other examples of this determination of character: and alludes, though with becoming hesitation, to that of "him who said, 'I must be about my Father's business'." But we were much surprised, that he should altogether omit any reference to one character, which was most remarkably distinguished by that energetic decision which is the subject of this essay. We mean that of the apostle Paul. No mere man, surely, ever exhibited so fine an example of vigour and determination of mind, in the pursuit of the noblest object, and under the regulation of the most correct and well-informed judgment, and of the most enlightened and diffusive charity. The character of St. Paul is, indeed, so extraordinary, and so appropriate to the subject, that we cannot satisfactorily account for the omission of any allusion to it. By a slight transition from the last article, Mr. Foster proceeds to specify courage as an essential part of the decisive character.-This point is treated much in the same manner as the preceding one, and with equal ingenuity and ability. CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 49. that our limits will not allow us to extract some further interesting observations of the author relative to this point. In the last letter Mr., Foster enumerates "various circumstances which may have consi derable influence in confirming the character in question." The first which he notices is opposition. An irresolute mind might, indeed, be quelled and subjugated by a formidable kind of opposition; but the strong wind which blows out a taper, augments a powerful fire, if there is fuel enough, to an indefinite. intensity. Desertion is another cause which the author considers may contribute very much to consolidate this state of character. Success is stated as a third circumstance tending to reinforce it. The habit of associating with inferiors, among whom a man can always, and therefore does always, take the lead, is added as a cause which is very conducive to a subordinate kind of decision in character. The author supposes it to be improbable that a very irresolute man can ever become an habitually decisive one, but that it might be possible to apply a discipline which should advance him some steps towards it; and suggests with that view the necessity of an accurate and comprehensive knowledge of the concerns before us, the habit of cul H |