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. going abroad gradually abated, and I began to think that I should make the law my profession for life. But during 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 "After I had worn out many months church, leaving his hat behind him. in this misery, observing one day an With this young man he afterwards advertisement in a newspaper, for a conversed, and their interview was clerk to an attorney,' I offered my-made instrumental in riveting those self, 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 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. But these resolutions were carried into execution only in a partial manner. In this state Mr. B. continued during In the month of February, 1791, Mr. B. describes his state of mind in the following letter: the remaining part of this year, strug- | very uncomfortable. Going one morngling under conviction for sin, but ing to a bath, I found on a shelf Dodstill aiming at that deliverance which dridge's Rise and Progress of Religion he knew it was both his privilege and in the Soul. This book I thought just his interest to enjoy, 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.' "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 From this recommendation of his home, and locked myself up in my mother, Mr. Buchanan addressed an chamber; I fell on my knees, and en- anonymous letter to Mr. Newton, who, deavoured to pray; but I could not. before his congregation on the ensuing I tried again, but I was not able; I Lord's day, requested the writer to thought it was an insult to God for me call upon him. "I called on him," to pray; I reflected on my past sins says Mr. B. in a letter to his mother, with horror, and spent the night 1"on the Tuesday following, and exknow 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 perienced 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 66 as to its objects and influence. It not 1791, that Mr. B. was admitted a only redeemed him from a sinful and member of Queen's College, Camworldly course, but gradually intro-bridge. "The day of my leaving duced him to a state of righteousness, London," he observes, was very and peace, and joy, in the Holy solemn. It was on Monday the 24th Ghost. 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 man 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 atten-ners which in too many instances he tion 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. 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. 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 whether his health would permit him to accept a chaplaincy at Sierra Leone. To this he assented; but for reasons which have not been stated, this also was abandoned; and the failure of these two attempts depressed his spi-panied with such testimonies of charits to a considerable degree. Mr. Thornton, however, though baffled in his designs, was not disposed to abandon his young friend. With a degree of generosity that all must admire, be resolved to send him to the University of Cambridge at his own expense. It was in Michaelmas term, Early in 1796 his friends made an application to a distinguished director of the East India Company, Charles Grant, Esq. to obtain for him the appointment of a chaplain in that honourable service. This was accom racter and qualification, from the proper authorities in the universities, 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 for my conduct is this; I wished to shortly afterwards invested with express my detestation of principles, priest's orders from the Bishop of which I considered calculated to do London; and in the May following, evil to the rising generation, and with he repaired to Scotland, to bid fare- that freedom of speech which is the well to his mother and friends, from noble prerogative of a Briton, I shall whom he had now been separated endeavour to shew that Mr. W. is not nine years, and to whom he was about solitary in his opinion; and as so to bid an adieu, that might be final as many have transmitted replies to his to the present state. He remained in essay, I think it but fair that his side Scotland until the first week in June, should also muster their soldiers, and when, taking a solemn leave, he re-array themselves against this demon turned to London, to complete his of dancing. 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. "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." Furnished with various letters of recommendation, Mr. B. left London Regarding these particulars, I was for Portsmouth, on the 30th of July; considerably struck with the heat of and on the 11th of August following, apparent feeling, which pervaded the embarked on board of the Bushbridge whole of the essay in question. East Indiaman, commmanded by" This man can never be a disinterestCaptain Dobrec, 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 be had attained the 31st year of his age. (To be concluded in our next.) ed 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 bis 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 ger; I must try my pen against this vulgar plebeian. As such an essay is out in the Imperial, our trade may be considerably deteriorated; the waltzing may be abandoned; the jigging given up, so that all the innocent, elegant, rational, and useful art of which I am the erudite professor, may fall to the ground. Alas for the dancing school!" I can next conceive him proceeding to some classical friend, perhaps one of the Patres conscripti of some neighbouring academy : 66 "My dear friend," says PHI, (for I must put the initial in plain English,) "you must understand, that a grovelling soul has written against dancing, he has said such things of it; would you believe it, he has called it a cursed system? aye; what do you think of that?" The scholar drew himself up to his full height, stretched out his leg, and extended his arm, in what he thought a peculiarly classical manner. "It is all envy," said he, "envy that withers at another's joy, and hates the excellence it cannot reach." "Bravo!" says Phi. My dear friend," said our academic, "write." "So I intend," said our hero. "Put in some awful sentences of Latin or Greek," 'twill frighten them; some ignorant fellow this, who never ranged o'er the verdant hill of Parnassus, nor drank of the golden Helicon. "I'll tell you what I've been thinking," said Phi; “let us put a Greek signature, that will shew that I understand Greek, but am not pedantic enough to put in much; but if they do rouse me, by the bridge of my fiddle, I'll do such deeds!" "Send them to the dwelling of night," said the scholar. "Yes," said our hero, interrupting, "and I've been thinking that this is some puritanical sort of a being; therefore if we can torture a passage or two from the bible, to convey our ideas, and to stop his mouth, I think it will be a good plan. You know a great deal about it, I'll warrant; I've heard some story about seventy men being shut up in the Old Bailey, or somewhere, and that there they wrote the bible in Greek. You've read it through, of course; as for me, I've not read the bible for many years. My old grandmother, poor soul! used sometimes to make me read it, when her eyesight failed; but she, alas! is gone: but you know all about it, with out doubt." "No," said the scholar, "I never read the bible, and seldom hear it, except when I go to church; however, we'll try what can be done in that way." You know what Virgil says: It may indeed be applied to you, "Qui novus hic nostris successit sedibus hospes, Quem sese ore ferens! quam forti pectore et armis." Phi did not know any thing about it, but went off as well satisfied, thinking of a grand flourish, like a semibreve on his fiddle, with which he would commence the said essay. As one evidence of the correctness of Mr. Burchell's idea, Phi informs us, that from his infancy he has been the friend of dancing. Then he gives us the fine period to which I have before alluded. In this, however, he is very much out of tune, playing one note on a sharp, another on a flat, &c. whereas, to have corresponded in key with the rest of the piece, the whole should have been flat. "I am induced," says he, " to enlist under your imperial banners, (that's a la militaire,) and to mingle with the crowd of candidates (something in the boroughmongering line,) which will flock to your standard, and contend for promotion (here again is the warlike) to an honourable situation under your government, (board of excise,) during the election of the ensuing month, (very parliamentary.)” In this essay, Phi has spoken like a man of the world, he has no doubt made friends among the young and thoughtless, and has the support of those who are lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God; and while his production will dwell with pleasure in the minds of many, mine will only survive in the small corner it occupies in this Magazine, and in my own collection of loci communes; and the public, for whose benefit I write, will allow it to float down the stream of forgetfulness, to the ocean of oblivion. I have a task peculiarly thankless, which I will fulfil as philosophically as I can, and so arm myself with honesty, that all my opponent's threats may pass by me as the idle wind, which I respect not." Phi allows that the young are surrounded by temptations, and that it is necessary that care and watchfulness should be used. |