ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

his various studies, and that he had behaved with all suitable propriety of conduct and manners.

At the conclusion of the academical session, he again returned to Carradell, and resumed his employment as tutor, where it is probable he continued until the autumn of the following year, when he quitted his native country, and entered on a project, on which, as it afterwards appeared, depended his future walk through life; this was to make the tour of Europe, -that, surveying the varied manners of mankind, he might derive advantages from his acquirements, and apply his knowledge to purposes that were not yet properly defined.

der my arm, and thus I travelled onward. After I had proceeded some days on my journey, and had arrived at a part of the country where I thought I could not be known, I called at gentlemen's houses, and farm houses, where I was in general kindly lodged. They were very well pleased with my playing reels to them, (for I played them better than I can now,) and I sometimes received five shillings, sometimes half a crown, and sometimes nothing but my dinner. Wherever I went, people seemed to be struck a little by my appearance, particularly if they entered into conversation with me. They were often very inquisitive, and I was sometimes at a loss what to say. I professed to be a musician, travelling through the

appeared very strange to some, and they wished to know where I obtained my learning; for sometimes pride, and sometimes accident, would call forth expressions, in the course of conversation, which excited their surprise. I was often invited to stay for some time at a particular place; but this I was afraid of, lest I might be discovered. It was near a month, I believe, before I arrived on the borders of England, and in that time many singular occurrences befell me. I once or twice met persons whom I had known, and narrowly escaped discovery. Sometimes I had nothing to eat, and had no where to rest at night; but, notwithstanding, I kept steady to my purpose, and pursued my journey.

This project, which had always been floating in his imagination from the time that he first entered the col-country for subsistence: but this lege, was brought to a crisis at this moment, through a strong attachment which he had conceived for a young lady, who happened to be on a visit to the family in which he was residing, but who, unhappily, was his superior both in birth and fortune. Their af fection, indeed, seemed mutual, but rank and station formed insuperable barriers which they could not overcome. Becoming uneasy in his mind, his restlessness urged him to contrive ways and means for carrying his long projected scheme into immediate execution. To accomplish this romantic undertaking, he made his parents acquainted with his design; but concealing from them the real cause, and substituting one that was artificial, he obtained their sanction, and without patronage, experience, or pecuniary resources, he prepared for his departure, and actually commenced his expedition on foot. Of this singular adventure he gives the following interesting account.

"I had the example of the celebrated Dr. Goldsmith before me, who travelled through Europe on foot, and supported himself by playing on his flute. I could play a little on the violin, and on this I relied for occasional support during my long and various travels.

"In August, 1787, having put on plain clothes becoming my apparent situation, I left Edinburgh on foot, with the intention of travelling to London, and thence to the continent; that very violin which I now have, and the case which contains it, I had un

[ocr errors]

Before, however, I reached the borders of England, I would gladly have returned; but I could not: the die was cast; my pride would have impelled me to suffer death, I think, rather than to have exposed my folly; and I pressed forward.

"When I arrived at Newcastle, I felt tired of my long journey, and found that it was indeed hard to live on the benevolence of others: I therefore resolved to proceed to London by water; for I did not want to travel in my own country, but on the continent.

"I accordingly embarked in a collier at North Shields, and sailed for London. On the third night of the voyage we were in danger of being cast away, during a gale of wind and then, for the first time, I be

gan to reflect seriously on my situation."

During the violence of the storm, as he afterwards acknowledged to a friend, Mr. Buchanan felt as if the judgment of God, as in the case of Jonah, was overtaking him; but, unlike the repenting Prophet, no sooner had the tempest of the elements subsided, than the agitation of his mind also passed away. He arrived safely in London on the second of September: "but by this time," he continues, "my spirits were nearly exhausted by distress and poverty. I now relinquished every idea of going abroad. I saw such a visionary scheme in its true light, and resolved, if possible, to procure some situation, as an usher or clerk, or any employment, whereby I might derive a subsistence: but I was unsuccessful. I lived some time, in obscure lodgings, by selling my clothes and books; for I did not at tempt to obtain any assistance by my skill in music, lest I should be discovered by some persons who might know me or my family. I was in a short time reduced to the lowest extreme of wretchedness and want. Alas! I had not sometimes bread to eat. Little did my mother think, when she dreamt, that she saw her son fatigued with his wanderings, and oppressed with a load of woe, glad to lie down, and sleep away his cares on a little straw, that her dream was so near the truth! What a reverse of fortune was this! A few months before, I lived in splendour and happiness! But even in this extremity of misery my eyes were not opened. I saw indeed my folly, but I saw not my sin: my pride even then was unsubdued, and I was constantly anticipating scenes of future grandeur, and indulging myself in the pleasures of the imagination.

"After I had worn out many months in this misery, observing one day an advertisement in a newspaper, for a clerk to an attorney,' I offered myself, and was accepted. I was much liked, and soon made friends. I then obtained a better situation with another gentleman in the law; and, lastly, engaged with a solicitor of respectable character and connections in the city, with whom I remained nearly three years. During all this time I had sufficient allowance to appear as a gentleman; my desire for

going abroad gradually abated, and I began to think that I should make the law my profession for life. But dur ing a great part of this time I corresponded with my friends in Scotland, as from abroad, writing very rarely, but always giving my mother pleasing accounts of my health and situation."

The deception which the preceding extract developes, he contrived to keep up for some time, and, on hearing of the death of his father, which took place in 1788, he actually wrote a letter to his afflicted mother, as from Florence, dated May 12th, 1789. During this year his convictions again returned; but, like all the preceding, their continuance was transient. In the month of May he was seized with a violent fever, which bringing him within sight of the grave, again renewed his fears; but the removal of his disorder was the prelude to returning folly, so that his goodness became like the morning cloud, or the early dew. But although preserved from gross immoralities, his frivolity of conduct occasioned many bitter reflections; and during several months, his life was spent between sinning and repenting, between forming resolutions of amendment, and violating them when formed, and throughout all, mourning over his melancholy

condition.

Through the influence of example he was too frequently led to neglect public worship, yet on certain occasions the force of early habit was revived by a wounded conscience, and he was almost instinctively driven to the house of God. It was on one of these occasions that he was particularly struck with the conduct of a young man, on whom the word preached seemed to have made so deep an impression, that he actually left the church, leaving his hat behind him. With this young man he afterwards conversed, and their interview was made instrumental in riveting those convictions which he was now unable either to stifle or overcome.

About the middle of the year 1790, he formed a resolution to give up Sunday visiting, to use private prayer, and to purchase a new bible as soon as his circumstances would admit. these resolutions were carried into execution only in a partial manner. In this state Mr. B. continued during

But

the remaining part of this year, struggling under conviction for sin, but still aiming at that deliverance which he knew it was both his privilege and his interest to enjoy,

In the month of February, 1791, Mr. B. describes his state of mind in the following letter:

"In the month of June last, on a Sunday evening, a gentleman of my acquaintance called upon me. I knew him to be a serious young man, and out of complaisance to him I gave the conversation a religious turn. Among other things, I asked him, whether he believed that there was such a thing as divine grace; whether or not it was a fiction imposed by grave and austere persons from their own fancies? He took occasion from this inquiry to enlarge much upon the subject; he spoke with zeal and earnestness, and chiefly in scripture language, and concluded with a very affecting address to the conscience and the heart. I had not the least desire, that I recollect, of being benefited by this conversation; but while he spoke, I listened to him with earnestness; and before I was aware, a most powerful impression was made upon my mind, and I conceived the instant resolution of reforming my life. On that evening I had an engagement which I could not now approve: notwithstanding what had passed, however, I resolved to go but as I went along, and had time to reflect on what I had heard, I half wished that it might not be kept. It turned out as I desired: I hurried home, and locked myself up in my chamber; I fell on my knees, and endeavoured to pray; but I could not. I tried again, but I was not able; I thought it was an insult to God for me to pray; I reflected on my past sins with horror, and spent the night I know not how. The next day my fears wore off a little, but they soon returned. I anxiously awaited the arrival of Sunday; but when it came, I found no relief. After some time, I communicated my situation to my religious friend: he prayed with me, and next Sunday I went with him to hear an eminent minister. This was a great relief to me; I thought I had found a physician: but, alas! though I prayed often every day, and often at night, listlessness and languor seized me. Sometimes hope, sometimes fear, presented itself, and I became

very uncomfortable. Going one morning to a bath, I found on a shelf Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. This book I thought just suited me. I accordingly read it with deep attention, and prayed over it. I next procured Alleine's Alarm to the Unconverted, and dwelt on it for some time. My religious friend then gave me Boston's Fourfold State. This I read carefully, and I hope it did me some good. I now secluded myself entirely from my companions on Sunday; and during the week, the moment business was done, I went home to my studies; and have since wholly withdrawn myself from pleasure and amusement. In this manner have I passed the seven last months, continually praying for a new heart, and a more perfect discovery of my sins. Sometimes I think I am advancing a little, at others I fear I am farther from heaven than ever. O the prevalence of habit! It is not without reason that it has been sometimes called a second nature. Nothing but the hand of the Almighty who created me can change my heart.

"About two months ago I wrote my mother some particulars of my state, and requested her prayers, for she is a pious woman. In her answer, written by my sister, is the following passage; My mother has heard much of Mr. Newton, Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth, London, and wishes that you would cultivate an acquaintance with him, if it is in your power.'"

From this recommendation of his mother, Mr. Buchanan addressed an anonymous letter to Mr. Newton, who, before his congregation on the ensuing Lord's day, requested the writer to call upon him. "I called on him," says Mr. B. in a letter to his mother,

66

on the Tuesday following, and experienced such a happy hour as I ought not to forget. He encouraged me much, put into my hands a narrative of his life, and some of his letters, begged my careful perusal of them before I saw him again, and gave me a general invitation to breakfast with him, when and as often as I could." His acquaintance with this pious minister was rendered an unspeakable blessing to his soul. Laying hold on the promises of the gospel, a decided change was wrought in his mind. It was initial indeed, but it was radical; it was imperfect in degree, but universal

as to its objects and influence. It not only redeemed him from a sinful and worldly course, but gradually introduced him to a state of righteousness, and peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost.

Mr. B. in the early part of his life had been designed by his friends for the ministry of the gospel, but through the aberrations which we have been called to witness, he had betaken himself to the profession of the law. His awakening and conversion, however, induced the Rev. Mr. Newton to recommend to his young friend to change his design, and turn his serious attention to the ministry of the word. To this Mr. B. had no objection, provided he could see his way clear. He was willing to be any thing or nothing in the hands of his heavenly Father. His aim was to follow the leadings of providence; and this, in a remarkable manner, removed the obstacles which obstructed his path, and for some time created doubts as to the legitimacy of his call to this sacred function.

As Mr. B.'s circumstances were far from being affluent, it was not in his power to support the expenses of a college education. But happily for him and for the Christian world, he was about this time recommended by Mr. Newton to the notice of Mr. Thornton, whose Christian charity is well known in all the churches, through whose assistance he was enabled to qualify himself as a minister of the Church of England.

1791, that Mr. B. was admitted a member of Queen's College, Cambridge. "The day of my leaving London," he observes, 66 was very solemn. It was on Monday the 24th of October, exactly four years and two months since my entering that city. But with what a different spirit did I leave it, compared with that with which I entered it!"

His situation in the university was far from being pleasant. The time that he was compelled to devote to mathematical studies gave him much uneasiness, and the profligacy of manners which in too many instances he was constrained to witness, afflicted his spirit with acute anguish. Every moment, however, was improved, and his rapid advancement gained him respect, even among those with whom he could not associate.

66

It was early in the year 1794 that Mr. Newton made to him a proposal of going to India. To this important proposition he declared himself unable to give an answer, but trusting that it came from God, and being equally willing to preach his gospel in the next village, or at the ends of the earth," he referred its ultimate decision to his friends. It was not long that this momentous question remained undecided. His friends thinking he would be more advantageously employed in India than in his native land, soon determined in favour of his embarkation, and preparations were soon undertaken for his departure.

On Sunday, September the 20th, 1795, Mr. B. was ordained a deacon, at Fulham, by the late pious and excellent Bishop Porteus; immediately after which he became a curate to his friend Mr. Newton, with whom he continued several months.

Having received a liberal education, and being rather too far advanced in age to pass through the tedious preparation of an English University, an attempt was made to procure for him an ordination without this formal process; but this effort was discountenanced by the Bishop. Mr. Thornton then desired him to consider whe- Early in 1796 his friends made an ther his health would permit him to application to a distinguished director accept a chaplaincy at Sierra Leone. of the East India Company, Charles To this he assented; but for reasons Grant, Esq. to obtain for him the apwhich have not been stated, this also pointment of a chaplain in that was abandoned; and the failure of honourable service. This was accomthese two attempts depressed his spi-panied with such testimonies of charits to a considerable degree. racter and qualification, from the Mr. Thornton, however, though baf-proper authorities in the universities, fled in his designs, was not disposed to abandon his young friend. With a degree of generosity that all must admire, he resolved to send him to the University of Cambridge at his own expense. It was in Michaelmas term,

as reflect the highest honour on his piety and attainments. The application, testimonials, and recommendation, thus presented, were soon answered with the desired success; and on Wednesday, March 30th, 1796, he

received his appointment. He was shortly afterwards invested with priest's orders from the Bishop of London; and in the May following, he repaired to Scotland, to bid farewell to his mother and friends, from whom he had now been separated nine years, and to whom he was about to bid an adieu, that might be final as to the present state. He remained in Scotland until the first week in June, when, taking a solemn leave, he returned to London, to complete his preparations for the arduous voyage he was about to undertake. On the 3d of July he preached for Mr. Newton, at St. Mary Woolnoth, and terminated by a pious and an affectionate farewell, his short connection with the congregation of his dear and venerable friend.

Furnished with various letters of recommendation, Mr. B. left London for Portsmouth, on the 30th of July; and on the 11th of August following, embarked on board of the Bushbridge East Indiaman, commmanded by Captain Dobree, and sailed for Bengal.

Nothing remarkable occurred during this voyage. His time was chiefly spent in the acquirement of useful knowledge, connected with his peculiar destination, in examining his own heart, in scrutinizing his own motives, and in endeavouring to promote the improvement of his fellow passengers. On the 27th of August, their fleet, consisting of twenty sail, was off the Canaries; on November the 19th they were off the Cape of Good Hope; and on the 17th of February they reached Madras. On the 20th they again sailed for Bengal, which place they reached in safety on the 10th of March, 1797, two days before he had attained the 31st year of his age.

(To be concluded in our next.)

66

[ocr errors]

for my conduct is this; I wished to express my detestation of principles, which I considered calculated to do evil to the rising generation, and with that freedom of speech which is the noble prerogative of a Briton, I shall endeavour to shew that Mr. W. is not solitary in his opinion; and as so many have transmitted replies to his essay, I think it but fair that his side should also muster their soldiers, and array themselves against this demon of dancing.

"I have observed," says the Spectator, "that a reader seldom peruses a book with pleasure, until he knows whether the writer be a fair or a black man, of a mild or choleric disposition, married or a bachelor, with other particulars of a like nature, that conduce very much to the right understanding of an author."

[ocr errors]

Regarding these particulars, I was considerably struck with the heat of apparent feeling, which pervaded the whole of the essay in question. This man can never be a disinterested writer; who do you think it is?" said I to Mr. Burchell, who had sat silently in a corner of my apartment, during the time that I had read this aloud. "Hold up your head, Miss," said my friend: "What do you mean?" said I: Turn out your toes," continued he; at the same time seizing the tongs and poker from the fire-place, he arranged the former as a fiddle, and the latter as a bow, and proceeded with his observations, without regarding me. "You must begin again, you are woefully out of time. Now then, one, two, three; one, two, three; now set, dos-a-dos, and then."

-"Well," said I.—“A dancing master," returned he; and flinging down the poker and tongs, he thrust his hands into his breeches pockets, stared at me, and walked out. I looked after him for a minute, and then resuming my usual composure, having replaced the tongs, I arranged my fire, and sat down by it. A dancing mas

Strictures on Dancing vindicated," inserted in the Supplement to the Im-ter, thought I; I believe that he is perial Magazine, col. 1189.

MR. EDITOR.

SIR,-It appears probable that I shall be charged with officiousness, for replying to Remarks on Mr. W.'s Essay on Dancing, as it is most proper for him to take up the subject, he having been thus openly attacked. My reason

right; this is certainly what the Spectator has reference to; like the famous painter Zeuxis, who, it is reported, died with laughing at one of his own productions. I then drew a very ludicrous picture of this "Lover of Dancing," and his operations. In this momentous affair, I conceived him crying out, "Our craft is in dan

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »