truth. What a reverse of fortune was this! forgiveness. On Sunday he accompanied A few months before, I lived in splendour his friend to church, and derived some and happiness! But even in this extremity of benefit from the discourse which he heard. misery my eyes were not opened. I saw in- In this state of doubt and apprehension, deed my folly, but I saw not my sin: my he chanced to meet with Doddridge's Rise pride was even then unsubdued, and I was constantly anticipating scenes of future gran-which he thought,' as he observes, just and Progress of Religion in the Soul, deur, and indulging myself in the pleasures suited to him." He next read Alleine's of the imagination. Alarm to the Unconverted, and then Boston's Fourfold State. Seven months passed in this way, his earnestness in regard to religion constantly increasing. His mother, in a letter received in reply to one in which he had given some account of his case, recommended Mr. Newton, Rector of St. Mary's Woolworth, London, as a proper person for him to apply to for advice. To this venerable man he addressed himself, and from him he obtained not only sympathy, but substantial assistance. "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. was much liked, and soon made friends. I then obtained a better situation with another gentleman in the law, and, lastly, engag ed with a solicitor of respectable character and connexions 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 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." of It was not true, however, that his allowance enabled him to live like a gentleman, though he might have simulated the exterior of one. From his diary it appears that he often was obliged to go without a breakfast or a dinner, and sometimes without both of them, though he contrived to find money to attend the plays and the debating clubs. It is to be regretted that his journal discovers no symptom shame for his base deception of his worthy parents. The death of his father, about a twelvemonth after his elopement, appears not to have wrought its proper effect on his mind, though it cannot be supposed that he was insensible to it. This mournful event was communicated to him by his widowed mother in the spring of 1789, he replied to her letter under date of Florence, May 12th. The early lessons of piety and moral duty which he had received from his parents, were not, however, wholly obliterated, and he appears to have been at times much dissatisfied with himself, and consequently extremely unhappy. His reflections and his conversation were occasionally of a religious cast. In the month of June, 1791, a friend, of a serious disposition, called on him, on a Sunday evening, with whom he engaged in the discussion of religious topics. This friend entered with great animation into the subject, and spoke so much to the purpose, that Mr. Buchanan formed a sudden resolution to reform his life. That very evening he fell on his knees in prayer to God, and continued daily to intercede for The process of this salutary change in the character of Mr. Buchanan appears to have been comformable to the usual course of things, and the change itself to have been the effect of obvious causes. His biographer, however, affects to consider it as an instantaneous, if not a miraculous, conversion. Notwithstanding all the pious precepts of his parents had been silently working with the convictions of his own conscience, to lead him to repentance, Mr. Pearson regards the laudable resolution adopted by his hero, on the Sunday evening aforementioned, as suddenly prompted by a divine impulse. We are sorry to say that Mr. Buchanan did not till some weeks after his acquaintance with Mr. Newton, make such proficiency in grace as to disabuse his excellent mother of the deceit he had practised upon her. Mr. Buchanan now directed his views to the church, but was not deemed qualified for ordination. Through the introduction of Mr. Newton he became acquainted with Mr. Henry Thornton, whe with a liberality as praise-worthy as it is rare, resolved to send him to the University of Cambridge at his own expense. In Michaelmass term, 1791, Mr. Buchanan was admitted a member of Queen's College, Cambridge. Though at first unwilling to pursue any other study than theology, he was persuaded to conform to the academical course, and gained a respectable standing by his literary and scientific acquirements. He came by degrees to perceive and to acknowledge the advantages of human learning. He thus expresses himself in a letter to Mr. Newton. "I once thought myself prepared for the church! I shudder at my temerity. A zeal (if zeal it may be called) without knowledge,' must have dictated this unhallowed confidence. In one sense, indeed, any one to whom God has given his grace may enter the church, however ignorant or unfit in other matters; inasmuch as all success in it comes from God. But in another sense, no man ought to enter upon the ministry who is not qualified by nature and education to do justice to a public station, and claim respect from a gainsaying world. This is absolutely necessary, unless miracles have not ceased. And for want of attending to these circumstances, viz. the present state of Christianity, and the progress of civilization, I see that the Gospel suffers in every quarter. At the time of the Reformation there was not so much ground for this complaint as now. I differ in opinion from many good men on these points. However, I seldom mention them, as I have learnt from past fluctuations of sentiment, that I may possibly think differently after further observation and more accurate Scripture study. I think that too little attention is paid to the manner of preaching the Gospel; and too little to the prejudices of the age against the illiterate methodist. I feel a good deal hurt at these neglects, at the same time that I despair of doing otherwise myself. In these, and in all other doubts, I must wait patiently on his teaching, who hath so often made darkness light before me.'" "he was hospitably received by the Rev. Mr. Brown, and resided for a short time in his family. He then took a house in Durrumlollah, where, however, he continued but two months, being at the end of that time appointed chaplain at Barrackpore, a military station about sixteen miles above Calcutta. "By this arrangement, which, however usual according to the rules of the East India service, ne does not appear to have anticipat ed. Mr. Buchanan found himself placed in a situation by no means congenial with his taste and feelings, and affording but few op portunities for the exercise of his ministry. Barrackpore possessed no place for public worship; and divine service was never re quired by the military staff to which he was attached. "This unexpected seclusion from active du ty, combined with the influence of an ener vating climate, which he very soon began to feel, and of society for the most part unfriend ly to religion, produced in Mr. Buchanan a considerable depression of spirits, and even gave occasion to some of his friends in Europe to attribute his comparative inactivity on his arrival in India to abatement of zeal rather than, as the truth required, to causes over which he could exercise no control." In his retirement at Barrackpore, Mr. Buchanan usefully employed himself in private study, and sedulously cultivated Again in a letter to the same beneficent the oriental languages. On the establishfriend, he observes that "Nothing but a cultivated mind, and the constant perusal of the New Testament, seem capable of delivering men from unnecessary prejudices and prepossessions. Grace does not necessarily do it. Some wonder at this; but why should they? Grace converts the heart, but it does not teach the understanding what the understanding may learn without it; and therefore it does not remove prejudice. For prejudice is founded on ignorance; on an ignorance of facts Till these facts then are communicated, prejudice remains; knowledge, therefore, i. e. learning, philosophy, or by what name soever it may be called, is necessary to remove prejudice." In July, 1795, Mr. Buchanan took his degree, and in September of the same year was admitted to the holy order of Deacon, by Bishop Porteus. By the interest of his friends and the recommendation of his instructers, he was appointed a chaplain to the East India Company. He soon after received priest's orders; and in the month of May, 1796, after an absence of nearly nine years, revisited his family in Scotland. On the 11th of August he embarked at Portsmouth for Bengal-and on the 10th of March, 1797, two days before the completion of his 31st year, landed at Calcutta. "On his arrival at the capital of the British possessions in India," says his biographer, ment of the college of Fort William, by the Marquis Wellesley, in 1800, Mr. Brown was appointed Provost, and Mr. Buchanan Vice-Provost. The object of the institution was the education of the junior civil servants of the Company him to insist more upon religious doc Mr. Buchanan's zeal, however, induced trine than seemed proper in a general course of elementary instruction, or than was requisite to qualify the Company's writers for the discharge of their official and relative duties. In fact the tenor as well as the tone of his didactic discourses Directors of the East India Company gave offence to the resident clergy. The not approving of the scope of the seminary at Fort William, ordered it to be suppressed. The Governor General, Marquis Wellesley, did not carry this order into immediate execution, and the its revocation. Mr. Buchanan, in the representations which he made procured mean time, agitated many measures for the promotion of christianity in Indiahe wrote a memoir in favour of an ecclesiastical establishment, and encouraged the translation of the Scriptures. He of fered prizes to the amount of sixteen hundred and fifty pounds sterling for the best essays in the different universities and public schools in Great Britain and Ireland, on the most efficacious means of diffusing civilization and the light of Christianity in the eastern world. His designs were deemed premature by many judicious men, who thought that to alarm the prejudices of the natives too violently, might endanger the British power in India, and defeat the prospect of the progressive introduction of truth and refinement. His spirit, however, rose with the obstacles which opposed him. In the year 1805 he proposed a prize of five hundred pounds to each of the universities of Cambridge and Oxford for the best works in English prose, embracing the following subjects: "I. The probable design of the divine Providence in subjecting so large a portion of Asia to the British dominion. II. The duty, the means, and the consequences of translating the Scriptures into the oriental tongues, and of promoting Christian knowledge in Asia. "III. A brief historic view of the progress of the Gospel in different nations, since its first promulgation; illustrated by maps, showing its luminous tract through the world; with chronological notices of its duration in particular places." ness. In the course of this year Mr. Buchanan experienced a very dangerous sickThe loss of his wife, who died in England, was added to his afflictions. She was the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Whish of Northwold, Norfolk, and came out to India with her elder sister, in company with their aunt, the lady of Capt. Sandys. They were married in 1799; Mrs. B. had visited England for her health, having derived relief from a previous voyage. In 1806, Mr. Buchanan, who is henceforth termed Dr. Buchanan, (the University of Glasgow having conferred on him the degree of D. D.) left Calcutta on a journey to the coast of Malabar. The new Governor General, Sir George Barlow, granted him every facility of conveyance which the country could afford. He met with the most grateful civilities at all the English stations, and with the most flattering attention at the courts of the Nabobs of Tanjore and Travancore. In this tour he visited Juggernaut. He visited also the Syrian churches of Malayala. On his return to Calcutta he found his occupation gone-the Court of Directors having reduced the College, by abolishing the offices of Provost and Vice Provost, and restricting the professorships to three. He had, moreover, the mortification to be denied the privilege of insert'a memoir on the subject of his ing proceedings on the coast of Malabar,' as our author describes it, which he had prepared under the title of 'Literary Intelligence.' Soon afterwards he preached a series of sermons on the Christian prophecies, a copy of which was requested by some of his hearers, for the press. He accordingly made preparations for publishing them, but on transmitting a notice of his intention to the government gazette, the insertion of his advertisement was refused. Lord Minto was now at the head of the government of India, and still more disposed than his immediate predecessor to check the spirit of proselytism, though the latter had been less favourable to the system than Marquis Wellesley. On this occasion, Dr. Buchanan remonstrated to the Governor General, and presented a memorial, which he subsequently published in his Apology for promoting Christianity in India. Dr. Buchanan sailed from India in December, 1807, and arrived in England in March, 1808. On the 26th of February, 1809, he preached his sermon called 'The Star in the East,' at Bristol, for the benefit of the Church Missionary Society. To this performance he owes most of his celebrity in the religious community in this country. In November, 1809, Dr. Buchanan married the daughter of Henry Thompson, Esq. of Kirby Hall, Yorkshire. He had the misfortune to lose this wife also. She died in the spring of the year 1815. His health, however, had been previously impaired, by paralytic attacks, and he did not long survive her. On the 9th of February, 1815, in the 49th year of his age, he departed this life. We have given our estimate of the character of Dr. B. and as much of his history as our limits would allow. He has left behind him many tracts in relation to his favourite object, the dissemination of the Gospel in India, which do honour to his philanthropy. We kept in reserve one fact, which will properly come in here, as it speaks more in his praise than pages of common-place declamation. When the day of his prosperity arrived, he not only repaid Mr. Thornton the sums which he had expended on his education, but gave five hundred pounds as a fund for the education of a candidate for the ministry, and left the selection of the object of this benevolence to three trustees, of whom Mr. Thornton was nominated one. E. ART. 6. The Progress of Society: a Poem. In three parts, New-York, David Longworth. 24 mo. pp. 62. THE desire of vindicating the American muse from the charge of sterility, however amiable, must not lead us to sanction the affiliation of all her putative offspring, much less to burthen her with a spurious progeny. Barrenness is not so great a reproach as incontinence. Our regard to the literary reputation of our country compels us to scrutinize the pretensions of her champions. We cannot consent to assign a niche in the temple of her fame to every chivalrous youth who may choose to break a lance in her cause. That the prejudice which has too long prevailed amongst us against every literary effort of American genius or industry, should subside as the number of our writers increased, was to be expected. Merit will always vindicate itself in the end. It is, indeed, no longer fashionable to decry whatever takes its origin from among ourselves on the contrary, if we are not mistaken, it is fast becoming the fashion to admire every thing that claims to be the product of indigenous talent. Nor is this reaction of public opinion unnatural. But we shall be sorry to see an unreasonable prejudice succeeded by an undue partiality. To lavish praise upon the unworthy, is to squander the meed of the deserving. Too great a facility at being pleased will tend to relax exertion; and stamping works with approbation which do not exact it, will degrade the standard of our taste in the eyes of foreigners, without conciliating favour towards the objects of our panegyric. tract the whole of the third part, in which "Fair on thy banks, O Paradise! the rose Yet now, though fallen, when the twilight Pours her soft lustre on his pensive eye- The poem in hand is evidently a crudity. Its author has neither disciplined If 'twere not true, why does he muse alone, his mind, nor cultivated it to any extent. There are many good thoughts scattered along his pages, but he wants method and in fact, he does not seem to have proposed to himself any determinate object. He is confused in his narrative, illogical and often unintelligible in his deductions, and meagre, though not inapposite in his illustrations. A general indefiniteness or want of purpose, and an obscurity which is heightened by an ignorance or negligence of the rules of grammatical concordance, are objections for which a casual felicity of thought or expression cannot atone. No man should obtrude himself upon the public, in print, who has not something to say for himself, and who has not pondered how to say that something well. To ask communion with the heav'ns and earth? If 'twere not true, why does his bosom own Beyond his reach, above his humble birth! As a specimen of the work, we ex Some old connexion sure, the twilight ray, Note the strange being! now his daring mind Mysterious thing! o'er history's backward stream, Now rapid flies his soul through seasons pass'd, And centuries travell'd but a moment seem, Though mourners every instant stood aghast, To mark some heart as curious breathe its last. Mysterious thing! his flights are not a dream! Lo, yonder pair! Behold the speaking eye! That each should kindred thought at once des cry, By some strange spell unknown, of silent harmony. O well 'twas sung, that souls in pairs were made, And sent together to this dingy spot, And lost each other as they earthward st:ay'd For oft they meet, and feel, they know not what, Of love unearthly! Love perchance forgot Mysterious and intense-so long delay'dAh! man may pause, and ponder on the thought, And analyze himself, so strangely sway'd, By mere expression's fire, o'er beauty's light and shade. Or let him sleep-his bold unshackled mind, In dreams still speaks her pow'rs and aims sublim e, For now on light, and now upon the wind, She rambles where she will through space and time, And fashions as she lists her favour'd clime: And now she wakes; no more with vision blind, A disembodied thing, as in her prime- Sent off to toss on life's precarious flood; All still in unison with glory brought, By him who came from heav'n with life endu'd, To give e'en certainty to guessing thought, And teach the unknown God, he long in vain had sought And shall not time his long-lost bliss restore, And give him back his uncorrupted mind? So tun'd that now-e'en now his eye will pour, As wanders round at eve his vision blind, Mysterious smiles, and trembling tears com. bin'd? Oh! Nature tells his loss! Faith tell him more; Tell him his long-lost birthright he shall find, When launch'd by death from time's myste Yes! Time shall roll a distant period bright, When feeble language, vigorous, refin'd, Shall soar perchance to thought's bewildering height, And pour stupendous light upon the blindThen shall be plain the mysteries of mindNeglected virtue then shall claim her rightWhile to earth's rabble, lingering still behind, Thought in her robe of fire shall flash her light, Till nature's bursting scorn shall wither lawless might. 'Tis moral feeling generates lofty thought, Yet thus advancing, still the immortal mind, Thus rising heav'nward, and for love design'd, Is the wild troop on earth, once naked, gross and blind. |
