the scheme which he had devised for effecting his departure from his native country and friends, and his intended travels upon the continent, Mr. Buchanan suggests the obvious question, how he was to accomplish such a plan, destitute as he was of pecuniary resources. To this he replies, that the greater his difficulties were, the more romantic would his tour appear; and then proceeds as follows.

"I had the example of the celebrated Dr. Goldsmith "before me, who travelled through Europe on foot, and sup"ported 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 conti"nent that very violin which I now have, and the case "which contains it, I had under my arm, and thus I travel"led onward. After I had proceeded some days on my jour"ney, 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 appear"ance, particularly if they entered into conversation with "me. They were often very inquisitive, and I was some❝times at a loss what to say. I professed to be a musician "travelling through the country for his subsistence: but this "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 occur

"rences befel 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, not"withstanding, I kept steady to my purpose, and pursued "my journey. 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 suf"fer 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 began to reflect seri"ously 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, in one of the letters referred to, 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 "sometime, in obscure lodgings, by selling my clothes and "books; for I did not attempt to obtain any assistance by "my skill in music, lest I should be discovered by some per"sons 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 lit"tle 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 gran❝deur, and indulging myself in the pleasures of the imagi❝ nation.

"After I had worn out many months in this misery, ob"serving one day an advertisement in a newspaper, for “a clerk to an attorney,' I offered myself, and was accept❝ed. I was much liked, and soon made friends. I then ob"tained 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 remain"ed nearly three years. During all this time I had suffi"cient 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 al"ways giving my mother pleasing accounts of my health and "situation."

Notwithstanding the preceding brief observation, that his allowance from his employers enabled him to make a genteel appearance, there are various intimations, in a memorandum book kept by Mr. Buchanan during a part of this -period, that he was frequently a sufferer from the pressure of poverty: nor is this to be wondered at, when it is known, that the utmost salary which he received amounted only to forty pounds per annum. Accordingly, it appears, from several notes in the account book which has been referred to, that he was sometimes under the necessity of pledging articles of clothing, and in one instance his watch, for the purpose of procuring a little ready money; and even this pain

ful expedient, did not always afford him such a supply as to prevent him from occasionally recording, that he had been obliged to go without a breakfast or a supper; and once, that he had neither breakfasted nor dined. It must, however, be acknowledged, that while this humble cash account is chiefly made up of his expenditure upon the necessaries of life, Mr. Buchanan seems to have wasted not a little of his scanty allowance on public amusements; amongst which the theatre frequently occurs, and sometimes debating societies.

From one of the brief memoranda contained in the pocket book, from which the preceding circumstances are derived, and which are chiefly written in Latin, it appears that Mr. Buchanan's father died on the 24th of August 1788, precisely a twelvemonth after his own departure from Scotland. This event was probably communicated to him by his excellent mother, and must, it may be reasonably supposed, have awakened some peculiarly distressing feelings in the mind of her absent son; conscious as he must have been of the deception which he was practising upon their unsuspecting confidence. No symptom, however, of the ingenuous shame, which, it may be hoped, he could not but occasionally feel for such misconduct, is apparent in his diary. He merely mentions, that his widowed parent had written to him in the spring of 1789, upon the mournful subject of a monument to his late father: to which he replied by a letter, dated the 12th of May, from Florence, which he despatched on the 25th following. A subsequent entry notices his disappointment in not again hearing from his mother, whom, amidst all his wanderings from the path of integrity and virtue, he evidently regarded with unfeigned reverence and affection; while another states the arrival of an answer from her to a recent letter of enquiry from himself, which, either from the favourable account of his parent's welfare, or its salutary influence upon his own mind, appears to have afforded him much pleasure.

It cannot, however, be a matter of surprise to any one, who considers the imprudent manner in which Mr. Buchan

D

an had left his native country, the deceit which he was prac tising upon his friends, the faint prospect which he could reasonably entertain of any considerable success in the world, and, above all, the pious education which he had received, to find, that the memoranda in question exhibit frequent marks of his inward perplexity and unhappiness. Thus, on the 10th of May 1789, he records, in Latin, with an emphasis of expression which evidently proves the depth and sincerity of the feelings with which he wrote; I have lived, "I know not how, in a state of forgetfulness, or intoxication, "to this day!" And on the 15th of July following, he briefly extends the same painful confession to that time. Within three days after the first of these dates, Mr. Buchanan was seized with a severe attack of fever, during which, he observes, that he had experienced, as might very naturally be expected, most uncomfortable reflections on his present situation. These, however, appear to have made no deep or lasting impression upon him, but, as in too many similar instances, to have vanished with the temporary alarm which occasioned them. Accordingly he soon afterwards states, that he had on that morning written part of a letter to his mother, and with the careless levity which in irreligious and impenitent minds returns, when they are relieved from the immediate fear of punishment, had altered his "plan of "death and misfortune, to that of fortune and festivity."

He laments also, that on his recovery he had broken some salutary resolutions which he had made during his illness. and adds, with that fretful and impotent violence which characterizes those who are irritated rather than humbled by the consciousness of their weakness, and are ignorant of its only effectual remedy, " I swear I'll do so no more. O! that "I knew how to persevere in good resolutions, as well as to make them! This has been my failing from my infancy." Who has not been compelled to make the same humiliating reflection, until acquainted with Him of whom the subject of these Memoirs was as yet practically ignorant? without whom we can do nothing, but by whose gracious assistance the Christian can do all things!