Charles Foster was an English-born Canadian author and publicist known for his contributions to literature and journalism in the 19th century. Born in Cheshire, England, he emigrated to Canada, where he became a prominent figure in the literary and media landscape. Foster's works often explored themes of social justice and human experience, reflecting the complexities of his time. His most notable works include 'The Life of the Rev. John Wesley' and 'The Life of the Rev. George Whitefield', which provided insights into the lives of influential religious figures and their impact on society. Foster's significance lies not only in his writings but also in his role as a newspaper editor and publicist, where he shaped public opinion and discourse. His ability to blend storytelling with social commentary made his works resonate with a wide audience. Through his literary contributions, Foster helped to pave the way for future generations of writers and journalists, leaving a lasting legacy in both Canadian literature and the broader context of 19th-century writing.
“Promiscuous animals, by and large, have smaller brains, for relationship demands a good deal of processing power, and promiscuity is a denial of relationship. Monogamy, as many of us know, is costly and hard: it demands work, though the pay-off can be profound. The work is often emotional work: give and take; forgiveness and forbearance.”
“All four gospel writers were no doubt enthusiastic members of their local churches. They went there every Sunday; sometimes they preached themselves; sometimes they listened to the sermon and nodded when the tradition was repeated accurately. And eventually they were prevailed on to write down their own or their sources’ recollections of the facts that had generated the tradition. This is why it is silly for X to say: “Mark wasn’t written until the 50s at the earliest. That’s a good twenty years after Jesus died. Mark couldn’t be expected to remember things clearly after all that time.” Mark didn’t hibernate between the death of Jesus and the time he wrote his gospel, then take out his pen, scratch his head, and say: “It was a long time ago, and I’m trying to remember this for the first time, but so far as I remember it went something like this.”31”
“All humans are Scheherazades: we die each morning if we don't have a good story to tell.”
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