324 KNOWLEDGE. "That the soul be without knowledge is not good." Prov. xix. 2. The man of knowledge lives eternally after his death, while his members are reduced to dust beneath the tomb; but the ignorant man is dead even while he lives upon the earth, he is numbered with living men and yet existeth not. An Arabian Author. Every branch of knowledge which a good man possesses, he may apply to some good purpose. C. Buchanan. Wisdom of itself is delectable and satisfactory, as it implies a revelation of truth and a detection of error to us. It is like light, pleasant to behold, casting a sprightly lustre, and diffusing a benign influence all about; presenting a goodly prospect of things to the eyes of our mind, displaying objects in their due shapes, postures, magnitudes, and colours; quickening our spirits with a comfortable warmth, and disposing our minds to a cheerful activity; dispelling the darkness of ignorance, scattering the mists of doubt, driving away the spectres of delusive fancy, mitigating the cold of sullen melancholy; discovering obstacles, securing progress, and making the passages of life, clear, open, and pleasant. We are all naturally endowed with a strong appetite to know, to see, to pursue truth; and with a bashful abhorrency from being deceived and entangled in mistake. And as success in enquiry after truth, affords matter of joy and triumph; so being conscious of error and miscarriage therein, is attended with shame and sorrow. These desires, wisdom, in the most perfect manner, satisfies, not by entertaining us with dry, empty, fruitless theories, upon mean and vulgar subjects; but by enriching our minds with excellent and useful knowledge, directed to the noblest objects, and serviceable to the highest ends. Dr. Barrow. Knowledge, and especialy spiritual and religious knowledge, is a sweet and copious spring of joy. Warm affections without knowledge can rise no higher than superstition. Happy they who delight in being instructed, and who take a pleasure in storing their minds with knowledge. Wherever adverse fortune may throw them, they always carry entertainment with them, and the disquiet which preys upon others, even in the midst of pleasures, is unknown to those who can employ themselves in reading, Fenelon. The Lord has taught us to know, and has opened to us the felicity of knowing, a felicity to which the pleasures of sense-though they also are proofs of his benevolence-bear no comparison, either in loftiness, or duration. In the one we have a pleasure in common with all animal natures, in the other we share the felicities of angels, and the blessedness of God Himself. Richard Watson. I held it ever, Virtue and knowledge were endowments greater May the two latter darken and expend; But immortality attends the former, Making a man a god. Ignorance is the curse of God, Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven, Shakspere. Ibid. What is it that mainly distinguishes a man from a brute? Knowledge. What makes the vast difference then between savage and civilized nations ? Knowledge. What forms the principal difference betwen men as they appear in the same society? Knowledge. What raised Franklin from the humble station of a printer's boy, to the first honours of the country? Knowledge. What took Sherman from his shoemaker's bench, gave him a seat in the American Congress, and there made his voice to be heard among the wisest and best of his compeers? Knowledge. What raised Simpson from the weaver's loom, to take a place among the first of mathematicians; and Herschel from being a poor fifer boy in the army, to a station among the first of astronomers? Knowledge. Knowledge is power. It is the philosopher's stone; the true alchemy that turns everything it touches into gold. It is the sceptre that gives us our dominion over nature; the key that unlocks the storehouses of creation, and opens to us the treasures of the universe. Hawe's Lectures. We must, by our example, kindle in youth the admiration of letters, and make them love them for themselves, and not for the profit they may bring. The ruin of letters brings with it the destruction of all that is good-religion, morals, divine, and human things. The better a man is, the greater is his ardour for the preservation of letters; for he knows that of all plagues, ignorance is the most pernicious. Melanethon. Man by nature is ignorant, he has no innate ideas, and needs instruction. Knowledge is a great blessing, it is a rich source of delight, and in many respects an unspeakable advantage. All may derive benefit from its possession, and the more so, the more it is increased. Let no one suppose that it would be worthless to him. All may experience its power to soothe, to gratify, to elevate, and strengthen. Let none be discouraged; a little knowledge is better than total ignorance, and when gained will open the way to greater acquisitions. The first difficulty overcome, 'vantage ground is obtained, and the mind is energized for the next. The way clears, the prospect extends, and pleasures increase as we proceed. To acquire knowledge, we must associate with those who are able to instruct us; we must "give attendance to reading," and exercise the mind in close thought. It is a great blessing that in the present day, there are many facilities for mental improvement. All who desire to store their minds with valuable knowledge may do so, and those who remain in ignorance are certainly culpable. Thank God, good books are plentiful and cheap. But particular care must be taken to meditate, as well as read. Some who read much know comparatively little. As it is not what money a man earns that makes him rich, but what he saves, and as it is not the quantity of food he eats, that nourishes and strengthens him, but what he properly digests, so it is not what he reads that enriches his mind, but what he makes his own by vigorous thought. Meditation is the digestion of the mind. Thought is our dignity, it is an exercise, but it is both pleasant and profitable, it is the price we must pay for knowledge. "In all labour there is profit," and especially in the labour of the mind. Reader! the inviting fields of precious truth are before thee, the rich stores of knowledge are accessible to thee: knowledge is better than gold, go make thy mental fortune. Scarborough, May 20, 1857. CHARLES R. HOPPER. BIOGRAPHY. JOHN FOSTER, OF SUNDERLAND. A Sketch read at the close of his Funeral Sermon, in Brougham Street Chapel, Nov. 16th, 1856, by Rev. Aquila Keene. Ir will now be expected that I shall lay before you some account of the life and death, the religious experience and Christian character, of our 6 deceased brother John Foster. In responding to this expectation, I do not hesitate to avow myself honoured, in having been selected for the solemn task. It sometimes occurs that ministers are desired by partial friends, to call public attention, in the way of funeral sermons, to characters whose religious history has been by no means exemplary; and whose failings have been far more conspicuous than their graces. In the present instance, however, we have nothing that requires to be adroitly shaded, or dexterously omitted: nothing for which to claim indulgence, by telling you that 'to err is human, but to forgive divine.' We need not now disarm your severity, by telling you, there are spots in the sun.' We are not even required to apologize for virtues, rendered almost vices by their excess, and instead of speaking warily, of faults that leaned to virtue's side,' we can lift up our voice like a trumpet, and say, 'behold an Israelite indeed.' And for this, I am sure all pious hearts will join me, in saying, 'give unto the Lord, give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name. Brother Foster's 'lovely tempers' were the fruits of grace,'-bis high attainments and deep enjoyments, his willing and abundant labours, his patient equanimity, his uncomplaining endurance, his untarnished integrity, and his final victory, were not the triumphs of natural virtue, or the spontaneous exfoliation of goodness indigenous to the human heart. If in any respect he was better than his neighbours, it was not because he was born with a better nature, but because he was born again of the Spirit,' -'a righteous man,'-'a child of God,'-and there is not a saint on earth, or a ransomed spirit in heaven, who would more readily disclaim all self-laudation, or more cheerfully ascribe all praise to God, than John Foster would have done. Were he permitted now to speak for himself, we are quite sure that the spirit and burden of his address would be, O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.' Brother Foster was born in the parish of Ryton, in the neighbourhood of the Tyne, on July 1st, 1803. His parents belonged to the working-classes. By religious profession, his mother was a Methodist, his father attended one of the Scotch Churches. He was trained in his childhood to revere the Sabbath and attend the Sanctuary. In his early youth he was distinguished from his companions and equals in years, by his thoughtfulness, and by his quiet and reserved habits. He was even the subject of serious reflections and sacred impressions; and yielding himself to the gracious influence of these early drawings of the Spirit, he avoided as a matter of choice, the follies and waywardness of youthful depravity. Under the same gracious leadings, he undertook the duties of a Sabbathschool teacher; and while engaged in this important work, his mind gradually became enlightened, aroused, and alarmed. He saw himself in the Gospel-glass as a condemned, unsaved sinner. The need of a Saviour, the importance and imperative necessity of an ascertained pardon, impressed his conscience and oppressed his heart. He was now unhappy, because he had found out that he was unsafe. The pardon he needed, he resolved to seek; and after the usual conflicts of a penitent soul, he was enabled to lay hold of the hope set before him, and found redemption in the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of his sins. He received the Spirit's sure witness, and was made happy in the realized favour of God on Easter Sunday, in the year 1818, while his mother was praying with him, and for him, in her own house at Gateshead, to which place the family had removed. He was then about fifteen years old, and from that time to the day of his death, he never lost his joy in God. Through all the after years of his pilgrimage, in storm and sunshine, he held fast his early confidence in God's mercy, counting it more precious than rubies, and more to be desired than fine gold. This appears to have been singled out as the grand aim of his life; an object to which he was thoroughly devoted, and from which he never suffered his attention to be beguiled or diverted. He removed to Sunderland in the year 1826, where he continued to follow his trade as a chain-smith; and was identified with the Methodist Society in this town until the year 1835, when, disapproving of certain things which at that time became subjects of warm and widely extended dispute in the Wesleyan community, he, with many others, formed themselves into a separate Society. Soon after the formation of the Wesleyan Association in this town, he was called by his brethren into a more active religious life; being the leader of two very large classes, and in a short time, an accredited Preacher on the Circuit Plan. Through all the excitements of this transition from private membership to public office in the Church, and from one community to another, he maintained 'the even tenor of his way,' firm in his purpose, and clear in his convictions, without either bitterness or bigotry; and willing to bear the service of office, without being ambitious of its honours. In this happy disposition of mind and temper, he lived and laboured to the end. Such is the short and simple story of his birth and parentage, his rank and occupation, together with his outward religious history. He began his earthly race in the poor man's cottage-above the line and level of that elevation he never ascended-and in a dwelling similar to that in which he drew his first breath, he breathed his last. He was a working man, earning his bread by the sweat of his brow-a member of the many, a brother of the multitude-thoroughly initiated in all the cares and toils, and privations and disadvantages, of a working man's position: and yet he turned life in its humblest form to good account; and by his honesty, amiability, and piety, he has carved his name upon the path by which he travelled, and left it there to be read with respect and admiration by many. Where is the man who knew him, who did not love him and admire him? Where is the familiar friend to whom his name is not dear, and his memory blessed? When did a man, in the same rank in life, draw so many sincere and respectful mourners after his coffin and around his grave? The day of his interment was marked by a most gratifying testimony to his worth. It was a day of homage to a humble Christian and an honest man. Hundreds were there to pay the respectful, though simple, tribute of their presence to his memory. In his last affliction, relatives, friends, and shopmates were forward to show him tokens of true regard; and, we doubt not, felt as much joy in giving as he did gratitude in receiving. There was no need of pressing appeals. Spontaneous respect and affection supplied whatever was needful for the convenience and comfort of the sick chamber and the day of sepulture. For these kind attentions to a beloved brother we think it right to make sincere acknowledgment in the name of all concerned. And here we cannot refrain from asking the question, because we wish to answer it, What was it that earned for Brother Foster such marked and manifold attentions? The only answer that we can give is, that he was a good man.' All who knew him felt him to be so and we feel bound to 'glorify God in him.' His religion was not a sham, a shadow, an empty name. It was what every man's religion ought to be a vital principle, a daily duty, an embodied reality. The attainments of scholarship, the mysteries of science, the profundities of philosophy, the eclát of authorship, the favours of fortune, are all things with which he had nothing to do. Worldly fortune never deigned to look at him: worldly fame passed him by. He was neither mayor, alderman, nor councillor, neither wealthy employer nor thrifty money-making tradesman. No sudden fortune ever thrust him into sudden notoriety. Men loved him, not because of what he had, but because of what he was. In the Church, he was a lamp, a pillar, and a pattern; and in the world, as far as his name was known and his influence extended, he was a burning and a shining light.' Whether in the prayer meeting or in the grimy workshop, he breathed the same spirit and walked by the same rule. The anvil, as well as the pulpit, owned him as a man of God. Few, indeed, are fortunate enough to escape the unfriendly opinion of some, but we never heard, or even heard of, a disrespectful remark made concerning John Foster. His gentle spirit breathed goodwill and love to all. 'He served Christ in those things which make a man acceptable to God, and approved of men.' He 'followed after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another.' Paul's description of charity is a true and faithful picture of John Foster. Envy, vanity, rude and callous disregard of the feelings of others, selfishness, irritable, angry tempers, dreamy dark suspicions, were things of which none who knew him will ever dare to accuse him; and for meek endurance, readiness to oblige and serve others, and willingness to remain in the shade himself, he had but few equals. His suavity, humility, and unobtrusive modesty are features of his character with which many of us have been long familiar; and these and other kindred graces have often commanded our silent admiration, and, I doubt not, have left their reflection on the photographic glass of our memory, too clear and too well-defined ever to fade away. Brother Foster's religious experience appears to have resembled, not the shallow, rattling brook, but the deep, broad, well-fed river. His soul seems to have seized upon the great vital verities of the Christian system, with a vigorous, tenacious grasp; and he would have as soon doubted his own existence as have doubted 'the certainty of those things which are most surely believed among us,' concerning the mission and work of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. The anchor of his faith and hope, was cast within the veil of the divine covenant; and there it remained both sure and steadfast. Instead of being like a ship out of her reckoning, tost about in unknown waters on a dangerous coast, at the mercy of stormy winds, and long dark nights, he lay sheltered and secure in a quiet haven. In the redeeming work, and in the immutable well-adapted promises of Christ, he found a refuge from the storms of a guilty conscience, and from the distracting perplexities of a doubting mind. He found all his guilty fears, his deep desires, his yearning aspirations anticipated, provided for, answered to, in 'the glorious Gospel of the blessed God.' There he found an atonement for his sins, coupled with the promise of this life and that which is to come. A saviour, a sanctifier, a providence, and a future heaven, all stood before him as provided and guaranteed to him. In joyous response to this he said, It is all I ask, all I desire, all I want.' Mediatorial arrangements satisfied his reason, and mediatorial promises gladdened his heart. Having ascertained how a man might be just with God and find his way to heaven, he went on his way rejoicing,' singing, as the watchword and purpose of his life "Fixed on this ground will I remain, His religious experience was composed of peace with God,' 'joy in God,' 'faith in God,'' hope toward God ;' and through all the mingled, shifting combinations and evolutions of this mortal life, he maintained his trust in God, his victory over the charms and frowns of the world, and his steady, blessed hope of heaven. That his profession was not an empty name, his steadfast unimpeachable consistency was a sufficient proof. The root of the matter was in him ;' and his many virtues, all had their origin and continuance in a |