searching and courageous to expose a fearful prevalence of real and fatal irreligion under the Christian name and formalities. His fellow politicians must have been strangely astounded at the appearance of such a prodigy in their hemisphere.

....

Here the weather for some days past has been of very inauspicious omen for the harvest. How disastrous if it should continue so, and inflict the completing aggravation to the miseries of the people. . . . . While the people are in such misery, their legislators are gaily scattering over the country for their rural festivities, their field sports, their watering-places, their excursions to all parts of the Continent, totally reckless of the people and the national interests.

I see in the Morning Chronicle to-day that you have got Rebecca at your gates; a commotion that seems to laugh all your wiseacres to scorn. I suppose it is quite evident, as I have seen stated, it arose as a reaction against a wicked management of 'squires, magistrates, &c., to lighten the tolls on the great roads where their equipages rolled along, and lay them, in monstrous disproportion, on the secondary and cross roads chiefly used by farmers and tradesmen. For these it was in vain to remonstrate, and appeal to magistracy, law, and so forth; and therefore it was quite time for them to take law into their own hands. They commit much injustice in their turn; still the probability is, that the result at last will be a much more equitable apportionment of the road-tax, and a mortifying conviction in the higher folk that they are really not to have everything their own way. . . .

CCXLIII. TO SIR JOHN EASTHOPE, BART., M.P.

MY DEAR FRIend,— .

Stapleton, Thursday, October 3, 1843. Short as is the interval since I wrote, it has made a material change in my condition. I adverted to the plainly approaching termination of life, and perhaps named a year or two. But the indications have latterly become so express, that I now have not the smallest expectation of surviving a very few months. The great and pressing business is, therefore, to prepare for the event. That is, in truth, our great business always; but it is peculiarly enforced in a situation like mine. It involves a review of past life; and oh how much there is to render reflection painful and alarming. Such a review would consign me to utter despair, but for my firm belief in the all-sufficiency of the mediation of our Lord. .

My very dear friend, make the one thing needful the great practical object. Accept this simple wish; I feel my mind quite incapable of seeking anything more interesting to say to you.

I rather hope you will be still prevented coming hither. I can hardly

say I should be glad to see you. I cannot maintain any length of talk ing, its effect is so mischievous on the cough, and in other ways. I will not yet say, farewell.

J. FOSTER.

CCXLIV. TO SIR JOHN EASTHOPE, BART., M.P.

Stapleton, October 5, 1843.

MY DEAR FRIEND,—A note received from you through the hands of -, expresses a wish for an interview, on condition that it might not fnjuriously affect the extreme debility into which I am rapidly sunk.

I say rapidly; for it can be but few weeks since I spoke of a few months as likely to bring the conclusion. In a later letter I may have narrowed the interval. But now my report would be, that I cannot think it possible to survive many days.

In such a state of prostration, it is impossible for me to hold any communication for more than a very brief space of time. ... The case being such, my dear friend, I do think it will be better to decline the interview, so acceptable as it would have been in other circumstances. Before you will have returned from the Continent I shall have made a much greater and more mysterious journey.-After some years, I wish they may not be few, you will be called to follow me. And may God grant, through the infinite merits of Christ, that we may find ourselves in a far happier world.-Among my last good wishes will be those for the happiness, and the piety of all your family. . . .

And now, my dear friend, I commend you to the God of mercy, and very affectionately bid you

FAREWELI..

WITHOUT any attempt at a formal and critical delineation of Mr. Foster's character, it may render the materials for making such an estimate more complete, to present a few particulars relative to his private habits and tastes, which could not be conveniently interwoven with the preceding narrative.

His intense sympathy with nature appears to have been first awakened by the grand and awful,* but as his faculties matured the love and admiration of the beautiful became not less vivid. He took great, delight in all flowers, but especially in the more delicate, retiring, and minute. In the spring he anxiously watched for the appearance of the first snow.drop, crocus, primrose, or buttercup; this last, indeed, he regarded with a feeling more of sadness than of pleasure, from its betokening the far ad. vance of the season. Sometimes, on returning from a walk he would say in a tone of concern, "I've seen a fearful sight to-day; -I've seen a buttercup!" He scarcely ever gathered any flowers, disliking to occasion their premature decay.

He felt a delight, amounting almost to fascination, in colors of all kinds, whether delicate tints, dazzling showy colors, or deep sombre hues.

He had great susceptibility to the "skyey influences," and often remarked how much less any given space of time was worth in dreary, inclement weather. He used to say that it depressed all his faculties, independently of the low temperature.

He did not possess any scientific acquaintance with music, for which he had no ear; yet was passionately fond of some kinds of it, especially of the mournful and solemn. He used to wonder that it should be thought impossible for a person who, technically speaking, had no ear, to feel an interest in music, and strongly asserted the power it could exercise over himself to inspire almost

* Vide vol. i., p. 3.

every description of sentiment. He was never tired of hearing anything that pleased him, but would ask for it again and again. He felt more interested in instrumental than in vocal music, and his favorite instrument was the organ.

In connection with his taste for graphical works,* may be noticed the costly binding he bestowed upon them. His directions to the binder were given with a minute exactness which showed a familiarity with the process of the art, and great taste in the ornamental adjustments; this was only one mode of gratifying his perceptions of the beautiful, and arose in no degree from a fondness for display. Indeed he preferred that elegant works should be kept out of sight, till wanted for particular inspection. One day, noticing that several volumes had been placed on a table so as to show their exterior to the greatest advantage, he playfully said, "I'd put these books somewhere else; I've a proud modesty that disdains show."

His humanity to animals was great; and it might as justly be affirmed of him as of another venerable person, that "his sensibility produced a quick and powerful sympathy with the whole circle of animated Nature." Of this the following is an instance. He once found a small bat in the garden whose wings had been injured sufficiently to prevent its flying, and yet not so much, but that he thought it might recover in a little time. He therefore brought it within doors, fitted up a box for it, and put it in his study that it might be out of the way of molestation, intending to keep it there till it should be able to fly again. However, he soon found that there was no chance of its recovery, and thought it more humane to destroy it.

He had a great dislike to fancy-work, as a sad misappropriation of time. Once when shown a piece of worsted work with a great deal of red in it, he said "it was red with the blood of murdered time." In household furniture, though from motives of economy he would have studied the utmost plainness, yet he also thought that taste was wasted when carried to any great extent on such things.

He was remarkable for civility and kindness to small tradesmen and work-people; he used to complain that women were generally underpaid, and would often give them more than they asked. He abhorred driving a bargain with poor persons. When

* Vide Letters cviii., clxii., cxcvi., ccxxix., in this volume. HALL'S Funeral Sermon for DR. RYLAND. Works, 395.

sometimes shown small wares brought to the door for sale, on being told the price, he would say, "Oh, give them a few pence more ;-see-there's a great deal of work here; it must have taken some time to make." And he would turn the article, whatever it might be, in every direction, and find out all the little ingenuities or ornaments about it. With regard to persons serv ing in shops he was very considerate, and would insist on the impropriety of occasioning needless trouble to them in showing their goods, or in sending small purchases to a distance. He has been known to go back to a shop, and pay something more for what he thought had been sold to him too cheaply. "It isn't often we

meet with persons that do that, Sir," was the remark of a young woman on his turning back, and paying a shilling more for a lithograph which he had just bought.

He always spoke with great charity of the minor offencesparticularly petty thefts committed by persons decent and honest in the main, when under the hard pressure of poverty. If any. thing of the sort were mentioned to him in a tone of condemnation, he would generally say, "one has great compassion for persons in such a miserable condition,"-"one deeply deplores that decent people should be driven to such straits," or something to that effect.

If he had been told of persons in peculiar distress, though he had scarcely any personal acquaintance with them, or even knew them only by name, he seemed constantly to keep them in remembrance, would often inquire after them, and make evident allusions to them in his family prayers. His delicate regard to the feelings of others was most exemplary, in rendering acts of kindness and benevolence, especially of a pecuniary kind. He endeavored in some ingenious manner to make it appear that he was the favored person, so sedulous was he not to excite a painful sense of obligation. From an over-anxiety on this point he sought to prevent, if possible, the expressions of gratitude from reaching him. During his residence at Frome, in visiting the poor members of his congregation, he commonly took a small parcel of tea with him, requesting them to make him a good cup; and on leaving, would adroitly slide half-a-crown under his saucer. On one occasion when he had transmitted, quite spontaneously and unexpectedly, a handsome donation to a person in a respectable station, but with limited means, he added a "most peremptory in. junction that he might never be mortified, by one syllable or hint in any way or time, of acknowledgment for so mere a trifle."