early antipathies were strong, but "not malicious." His associations were intensely vivid; he had, for instance, an insuperable dislike to a book during the reading of which he had done any. thing that strongly excited self-reproach; or to whatever was connected with feelings of disgust and horror. For a number of years he would not sit on a stool which had belonged to a man who died in a sudden and strange way, and whose ghost was said to have appeared in a barn near his house. In short his imagination was imperious and tyrannical, and would often haunt him with a scene of Indian tortures, or the idea of a skeleton meeting him each night in a room he had to pass through to bed. "The time of going to bed was an awful season of each day." He was excited to strong emotion by reading passages in favorite authors, such as "Young's Night Thoughts." Even single words (as chalcedony), or the names of ancient heroes, had a mighty fascination over him, simply from their sound; and other words from their meaning, as hermit.*

His sensibility, though checked in its social operation, was kindled into intense activity by the contemplation of natural scenery, which in the neighborhood was highly picturesque. The very words, woods and forests, would produce the most powerful emotion. In matters of taste the great interested him more

* “I remember, for example, a person, very young indeed, who was so enchanted with the stories of Gregory Lopez, and one or two more pious hermits, as almost to form the resolution to betake himself to some wilderness, and live as Gregory did. At any time the word hermit was enough to transport him, like the witch's broomstick, to the solitary hut which was delightfully surrounded by shady, solemn groves, mossy rocks, crystal streams, and gardens of radishes. While the fancy lasted he forgot the most obvious of all facts, that man is not made for habitual solitude, nor can endure it without misery, except when turned into the superstitious ascetic."-Essay on the Epithet Romantic, Letter 2.

Of Gregory Lopez, his biographer, father Francis Losa, says, that" for the last six years of his life he never walked abroad, or took the wonted pleasures of solitude,-the prospect of a flowery field, a beautiful wood, a crystal stream, or so much as suffered himself to descend into a pleasant garden adjoining to the house he lived in.”—The Holy Life, Pilgrimage, and blessed Death of Gregory Lopez, a Spanish Hermit in the West Indies. The second edition, London, 1686.

Mr. Foster remarks in a note to the passage quoted above from his Essays, that Gregory did not practise absolute solitude, but was frequently visited for advice in religious matters. His own juvenile predilections, however, led him to covet such solitude, and to retain the gratification of "the pleasant garden, and crystal stream."

"The tendency to this species of romance may be caused, or may be greatly augmented, by an exclusive taste for what is grand, a disease to which some few minds are subject. All the images in their intellectual cene must be colossal and mountainous. They are constantly seeking

than the beautiful; great rocks, vast trees and forests, dreary caverns, volcanoes, cataracts, and tempests, were the objects of his highest enthusiasm: and in the same way, among the varieties of human character, the great and the heroic excited the deepest interest. An abhorrence of cruelty was among his earliest habitual feelings. He "abhorred spiders for killing flies, and abominated butchers," though at a very early age, on two occasions, his curiosity led him to a slaughter-house.

His behavior towards his parents was uniformly dutiful ;* and though his juvenile manifestations of affection were checked from the causes already referred to, yet in mature life no one could give stronger proof of filial regard than he did, by contributing (in proportion to his means very largely) to the support and comfort of their declining years. He began early to assist them in weaving, and till his fourteenth year worked at spinning wool to a thread by the hand-wheel. In the three following years he wove what are called double stuffs, such as lastings, &c. But while thus employed, he "had no idea of being permanently employed in handicraft;" he had the fullest persuasion that something else awaited him, not from the consciousness of superior abilities, but from indulging romantic wishes and plans. "I had when a child," was his confession to Mr. Hughes, "the feelings of a foreigner in the place, and some of the earliest musings that kindled my passions, were on plans for abandoning it. My heart felt a sickening vulgarity before my knowledge could make comparisons." "My involuntary, unreflecting perceptions of the mental character of my very few acquaintance, were probably just, as to their being qualified to reciprocate my sentiments and fancies." Thus, full of restless thoughts, wishes, and passions, on subjects that interested none of his acquaintance, it can excite no surprise that his weaving was often performed very indifferently, and that the master-manufacturer by whom he what is animated into heroics, what is expanded into immensity, what is elevated above the stars. But for great empires, great battles, great enterprises, great convulsions, great geniuses, great rivers, great temples, there would be nothing worth naming in this part of the creation."-Essay on the Epithet Romantic, Letter 2.

"Qu. Whether my habit of obedience to my parents in early life did not lessen the general quality of independence and courage? Accustomed to submit from duty to them, I had more respect for other mature persons than I see children have; but to be unoppressed with respect or fear of grown persons in childhood, may probably contribute very much to the hardy independence, as well as insolence, of youth and manhocd.”—MS Journal, No. 782.

was employed was continually resolving that he would take no more of it. When Foster brought his piece into the "taking-in-room," as it is commonly called, he would turn his head aside, and submit with unequivocal repugnance to the ordeal of inspection. The kind of weaving in which he was employed allowed no scope for invention, being a mere dull repetition of manual operations. Not that he ever showed any particular aptitude for mechanical contrivance. The only instance of the kind known was the construction of a terrestrial globe, when he was ten or eleven years old, on which the various countries were marked with a pen. It had no meridian; the frame was made of three pieces of wood, joined at the centre, the lower part of which served for feet. This self-imposed task was executed with a penknife, and was a long time in hand. He had also "a passion" for "making pictures with a pen."

While residing with his parents he studied closely, but irregularly; he would often shut himself up in the barn for a considerable time, and then come out and weave for two or three hours, "working," as an eye-witness expressed it, "like a horse." His attention during this period was necessarily confined to English literature, his home education not allowing a wider range. His father, however, was ambitious of a higher training for him, and when the lad was only four years old, would lay his hand upon him and say, "This head will one day learn Greek." There was an excellent grammar-school at the neighboring village of Heptonstall, conducted by a Mr. Shackleton; and we have no reason for supposing that the nonconformist principles of the Fosters operated on their minds, or on the master, to preclude their son from enjoying its advantages. Most probably, his assistance at the loom could not be dispensed with, and was incompatible with regular attendance at the school.

With much that was uncongenial and disadvantageous in Foster's circumstances, their moral and religious influences were for the most part highly salutary. In his parents he had constantly before him examples of fervent piety, combined with great sobriety of judgment and undeviating integrity. Their house also was the resort of their Christian neighbors for the purposes of social devotion, or to obtain the benefit of their advice in the perplexities of daily life. A meeting was held there every Tuesday evening, which was always closed with a prayer by Mr. Foster, who never omitted one petition-" O Lord, bless the

lads!" meaning his son John, and his young (and at that time only) companion, Henry Horsfall. The earnestness with which these words were uttered made a deep impression on the two youths. To trace the progress of Foster's piety in its earliest stages, "mingled," as it was, "almost insensibly with his feelings," would be impracticable; its genuineness happily was proved by its "shining more and more unto the perfect day." When about fourteen years old, he communicated to the associate just named the poignant anxiety he had suffered from comparing his character with the requirements of the divine law, and added, that he had found relief only by placing a simple reliance on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ for acceptance before God. Six days after the completion of his seventeenth year he became a member of the Baptist church at Hebden-bridge. His venerable pastor Dr. Fawcett, and other friends who had watched with deep interest his early thoughtfulness and piety, urged him to dedicate his talents to the Christian ministry. Whether he had himself previously formed such a design is not known: the object of their wishes soon became his deliberate choice, and after giving satisfactory proofs of his abilities, he was "set apart" for the ministerial office by a special religious service. For the purpose of receiving classical instruction and general mental improvement, he became shortly after an inmate at Brearley Hall, where Dr. Fawcett, in connexion with his labors as an instructor of youth, directed, at that time, the studies of a few theological candidates.* Part of each day was still spent in assisting his parents at their usual employments. During the rest of the time, his application to study was so intense as to excite apprehensions for his health. Frequently, whole nights were spent in reading and meditation, and on these occasions, his favorite resort was a grove in Dr. Fawcett's garden. His scholastic exercises were marked by great labor, and accomplished very slowly. Many of his inferiors in mental power surpassed him in the readiness with which they performed the prescribed lessons. One method which he adopted for improving himself in composition, was that of taking paragraphs from different writers, and trying to remodel them, sentence by sentence, into as many forms of expression as he possibly could. His posture on these occasions was to sit with a hand on each knee, and, moving his body to and

* Among others, one of the illustrious missionary triumvirate at Serampore, WILLIAM WARD.

fro, he would remain silent for a considerable time, till his invention in shaping his materials had exhausted itself. This process he used to call pumping. He had a great aversion to certain forms of expression which were much in vogue among some religious people, and declared that if possible he would expunge them from every book by act of parliament; and often said, “We want to put a new face upon things."

In

At Dr. Fawcett's, Foster had access to a large and miscellaneous library. His course of reading, though extensive, was by no means indiscriminate; and it was observed that he invariably read his favorite authors with extreme care and attention. general literature no class of books delighted him so much as voyages and travels; and the taste for this kind of reading which so gratified his imaginative faculty, and his love of the marvellous and romantic, never forsook him. In practical theology he was very partial to Watson's "Heaven taken by Storm," the work mentioned by Dr. Doddridge as having been read by Col. Gardiner on the evening of his memorable conversion.

Brearley Hall was environed with hanging woods, except on the south, where it opened by a gentle declivity to the valley. The scenery harmonized with Foster's temperament; and lonely rambles in the surrounding woodlands formed almost his only recreation. On one occasion he persuaded a young companion to walk with him by the river's side from evening to dawn, just, as he said, that they might see how the light in its first approach affected the surrounding scenery.* Some years afterwards, when on a visit to his parents, he suddenly quitted the house, and started off in a heavy shower to look at a waterfall in the neighborhood of which he had often heard, and on his return said, "I now understand the thing, and have got some ideas on the subject, with which I should not like to part."

"No one," an early friend remarks, "was better qualified to write on 'decision of character.' It was from early life the habitual characteristic of his mind. He formed his purposes, and then proceeded to execute them; nothing wavering. He was always examining everything that came within the range of his observation; neither wind nor weather, night nor day, offered any obstacle; he accomplished his purpose."

* "One cannot well describe, or even seize the precise steps of the gradation by which, after the sun is set, the evening changes into night. The appearances in the progress of morning are somewhat more palpable." -MS. Misc. Observations, 1805