In his sermons, not less than in his conversation, he constantly aimed at imparting freshness to ordinary topics, and generally succeeded. Yet it happened not unfrequently that his hearers were more startled and perplexed than edified. He once preached at Thornton, near Bradford, from the words, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." His object was to show the awful condition of the human race, had not a way of access been provided by God; but his novel mode of treating the subject led an old man (the oracle of his little circle) to remark, "I don't know what he has been driving at all this afternoon, unless to set riddles.” “He is going to take us to the stars again," was a frequent observation of his hearers. Yet instances were not wanting in which his discourses made a salutary and indelible impression; two especially, one from the words, " And on his head were many crowns," the other on, "Doing the will of God from the heart," were long remembered. He was very assiduous in visiting the cottages of the poor, particularly the sick and aged; on these occasions, besides religious conversation and prayer, he generally read the 145th Psalm.* After spending about three years at Brearley, application was made for his admission into the Baptist College, Bristol.† He entered that institution shortly after the decease of the president, Dr. Caleb Evans, a man deservedly held in high esteem among Prayer, and kindly intercourse with the poor, are the two great safeguards of spiritual life; it's more than food and raiment."-DR. ARNOLD (Life and Correspondence, vol. ii., p. 58, fifth edit.). The recommendation to the managers of the institution was in the following terms: GENTLEMEN,-The bearer, Mr. John Foster, has been for some years in full communion with us; and, as far as we know, his conversation has been conformable to his Christian profession. We apprehend the great Head of the Church has bestowed upon him such gifts and abilities, as will, through his blessing, render him publicly useful. We, and several other churches in this neighborhood, have had trial of his gifts; and, candid' allowance being made for his youth, it is hoped he may, in due time, be an useful laborer in the Lord's vineyard. He wishes to devote a little more time to preparatory study, and requests you will be so kind as to receive him under your patronage for one year, and grant him the usual privileges in that seminary over which you preside. We commend him therefore to you, and, hoping you will receive him under your protection, subscribe ourselves, Gentlemen, Your affectionate brethren in Christ, Signed by us, in behalf of the rest, Aug. 14, 1791. S JOHN FAWCETT, his connexions; the classical tutor, Robert Hall (“clarum et memorabile nomen !”), had just removed to Cambridge; but his place was ably filled by Joseph Hughes, the founder and secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society; he was only one year and eight months older than Foster; their minds were congenial, and the preceptor and the pupil were each soon merged in the friend. In piety, in mental activity, in ambition of intellectual superiority, in a deep shade of pensiveness, they resembled one another; and if one possessed greater originality of thought and affluence of imagination, the other probably was superior in a more exact intellectual training, and had attained a greater maturity of religious character and sentiment. * Memoir of the late Rev. Joseph Hughes, by Dr. Liefchild, p. 145. LETTERS. I. TO THE REV. DR. FAWCETT. Bristol, Oct. 15, 1791. I AM wishing to offer some kind of apology for having neglected so long to write to you. The kindness you have uniformly expressed towards me, and the many advantages I have enjoyed under your care, entitle you to the earliest notices of my circumstances, and at the same time leave me no room to doubt that you still feel interested in my happiness, and that any intelligence respecting my situation will not be unacceptable. I intended to write to you immediately after I had written to Lanes, which was the reason why I did not mention you in that letter. The delay may be attributed to a complication of circumstances. I wished to defer it till I could form some judgment of my real situation, and of the state of things at Bristol. Seldom indeed does any great advantage result from procrastination. I have been in this city now about four weeks; I travelled by the coach from Manchester to Birmingham, and thence in two days walked to Bristol, though a length of eighty-eight miles. You will not wonder that at first I felt myself somewhat gloomy and desolate, notwithstanding kind treatment and agreeable accommodations. The separation from my friends had made a painful impression on my mind, which no object I met with here tended to erase; and the contrast between the delightful situation, the most agreeable and improving conversation, and the ever estimable friends of Brearley Hall, and the smoke and noise, and unknown and uninteresting society of Bristol, produced sensations by no means in favor of the latter. Those feelings, however, which do honor to human nature, may be indulged to an unmanly excess. I have by this time recovered most of the cheerfulness and gaiety of which my mind—a mind not the most gay, indeed, or sprightly—is at any time susceptible. In fact, my situation is extremely agreeable. The cause which contributes most to render it so is friendship. I have no intimacy indeed with any of the young men here. I treat them all and am treated by them, with the most friendly kind of civility, but I feel not the least inclination to any particular attachments. It has always been my ambition to associate with those who are superior to myself. This ambition was often gratified at Brearley Hall; and here I am become very intimate with Mr. Hughes-a circumstance favorable both to my satisfaction and improvement. I generally spend several hours with him every day in reading, in conversation, or walking. He is free, sprightly, and communicative. He possesses great energy of mind—a more. variety and originality of thought. His imagination is vivid, and without any great effort supplies an endless train of ideas and images; and, which is the most important quality, he seems to have a deep, experimental acquaintance with religion. I admire him much as a preacher. Dr. Evans is an universally respected, beloved, and lamented character. There have not probably been very many instances of an union of piety, learning, benevolence, and prudence, equally consistent and shining with that which was displayed in him. But he is now no The congregation at Broadmead is large and splendid, and the church numerous. The number of us young parsons amounts to about twelve-some of us not very great or amiable characters, it must be confessed. . . . . There are, however, two or three among us very promising. The academy possesses many advantages, among which are the extensive and valuable library and philosophical apparatus, the very satisfactory accommodations, and the agreeable situation of the place ―agreeable, I mean, when compared with most other parts of the city. Bristol is a flourishing commercial city, but by no means elegant and fine, nor distinguished by intelligence and taste. Bath, however, to which I made an excursion lately with Mr. Hughes, exhibits a great profusion of elegance and splendor. . . . . A few days since, in company with Mr. Hughes, I spent a day with Miss Hannah More. She, with four other sisters, all unmarried, resides at the distance of about ten miles from the city. They are all very sensible and agreeable, but she is quite interesting. She was familiarly acquainted with Johnson, and many other distinguished persons who are dead, and is equally well known to most of the geniuses of the present day. Perhaps her poetical abilities, though acknowledged very great, form one of the least of her excellences. If piety and beneficence can give lustre to a character, hers is transcendent. She lives in a kind of retirement, little noticed, except by her distant friends; and, in conjunction with her sisters, whose minds are congenial with her own, employs most of her time in benevolent undertakings, in visiting the poor, furnishing them with necessaries, and procuring instruction for their ignorant children, at the very time that she could figure among poetesses and peeresses. Some of her undertakings, in the design, conduct, difficulties, and success, are so very remarkable, and discover such evident interpositions of divine providence, that they almost assume the air of romance. If I ever saw the spirit of the Redeemer and his religion realized, it is in her conversation and character. I expect the pleasure of visiting her to be pretty often repeated. I please myself with the hope that you are on the whole comfortable and prosperous, both in respect to religion, and your other engagements. I request you will continue to pray for me. I make my apology for having so long neglected to write. It is indeed with difficulty that I can sequester as much time as I would for purposes of this kind. I hope I am learning in some measure to improve my time; one of the most im portant, and to me most difficult of all lessons. In religion I hope I am rather advancing than declining. I have to attend to Latin and Greek every day. A person in the city is at present reading a course of lectures in experimental philosophy, which most of us attend. II. TO MR. H. HORSFALL. Bristol, Nov. 16, 1791. If you had been my Dulcinea I certainly durst not now write at all, after having delayed it so long. You see I am attempting to pass off with a jest what you may think needs a serious apology. I confess it does; but as the case stands I have none to offer. I have been prevented by an odd mixture of business and idleness, each of which you know is unfavorable to writing letters, particularly when letters cost so much labor as mine generally do. I must yet request you to dismiss the suspicion that "I have forgotten you all" at Brearley Hall, and for this reason, that I assure you it is without foundation; at the same time, a sort of confidence that you are all mighty gay and felicitous, enjoying yourselves and one another, has done something toward quieting my conscience in the neglect of writing. I am more obliged to you than I can express for your very curious and sprightly letter. Nothing could have been more acceptable, or more entertaining, not only on account of its coming from you, but on account also of its contents. It will, besides, furnish me with a few ideas (a scarce article at Bristol) to reverberate, and assist me to fill three sides of a sheet, which might otherwise have been a very difficult affair. My regard for you and my other worthy friends at Brearley Hall and at Mount, is not at all diminished by absence and distance. Perhaps I never felt it more warm than at this moment. Probably I shall never enter with such real cordiality into any other friendships. I feel no inclination, nay, I feel a strong aversion, to any attempt to cultivate general or numerous intimacies. Nature never formed me for it. Imagination itself can scarcely place me in a more perfectly pleasing situation than ascending the hill below your father's, and sitting down to tea with your mother. I hope to renew this delightful satisfaction, if all continue well, in something less than eight months. And within this interval I flatter myself (and I am ready to suppose you do the same) with the hope of making very great improvement in learning and in piety. What an estimable possession is time! Permit me to urge you, as I am urging myself, to a nobler improvement of it. I have lately laid down a kind of plan for the distribution of my time and studies, which I already find to be of service. One part of it is, to devote all the time from rising in the morning, which is generally about six o'clock, till half-past eight (when we have family worship succeeded by breakfast), to prayer and reading the bible, together |