No

me, I have not till now enjoyed a day of peace since I left my father's house. I once thought that I would rather suffer torture than betray my secret; but my "sinews of iron' are become like those of a child. thing less than what I have suffered could have softened so hard a heart as mine, and not even that, unless accompanied by the power of God." Mr. Buchanan, after unbosoming himself to his dear and excellent mother, wrote again to Mr. Newton, which letter he closes in the following words:"My desires of returning to my first pursuit, the ministry, still continue, and, I think, increase. Blackstone says, that to have a competent knowledge of the law, requires the

lucubrations of twenty years:' I once had the low ambition of being such a lawyer. But I am now so impressed with the dignity and importance of the office of the ministry, that I would, with pleasure, sit down tomorrow, and devote, not the lucubrations of twenty years alone, but all my life to it. But alas! my present situation militates much against my wishes. O that he who has led

me thus far would graciously direct my steps!"

Mr. Buchanan, for three months after the date of this letter, continued, as usual, his former employment in the law, only adding to his other studies the cultivation of religion in his soul, and its practice in his life. In the month of July he again wrote to Mr. Newton, complaining of the slowness of his progress in this divine study, and of the melancholy discoveries, doubtless, which, day by day, the Spirit of grace would enable him to make into the secret faults and errors of his heart. He then informs his friend of one remaining source of comfort possessed by him, namely, the letters of his dear correspondent in Scotland. "My mother," he says, "writes thus to me:-The hint you gave me in your last, of joining the Church of England, caused me, at first, some uneasiness. I hope you will forgive this. I find now that the difference between the two churches consists more in discipline than in doctrine. I am, therefore, easy in mind which ever way the providence of God may see fit to guide you. I am

happy that you consulted your Bible, and sought the Lord's direction on this occasion. If you cast burden upon him, he will direct you aright.

your

Since you were a boy, it was impressed upon my mind that some time or other you would be a good man. I own, of late years, I was beginning to lose my hope, particularly on the supposition of your going abroad. I thought with myself, this is not God's usual way of bringing sinners to himself. But the word of consolation often came in remembrance, that God is a God afar off." O how merciful has he been to you! in concealing your miserable situation, till grace brought it to light! I do believe the discovery a year ago would- -But these recollections are painful; therefore I forbear. What comforting letters have you sent us! Could a thousand pounds a year have afforded an equal consolation? Impossible!"—"" It is not the smallest of my comforts," added Mr. Buchanan, "that I have such a mother as this."

About this time, it appears, Mr. Newton had introduced his young friend, Buchanan,

to the notice, and, as will be seen, to the distinguished patronage of the late Mr. Henry Thornton, a name which is associated in almost every mind, with that of philanthropy, and Christian charity," who soon offered to send Buchanan to Cambridge at his own expense, that he might enter the church with every possible advantage, and be fitted for a high and extensive sphere of usefulness. This munificent proposal, worthy of a Thornton to make, and highly honourable to him who was the object of it, "was received by Buchanan, with those mingled feelings of gratitude and humility, which were the surest pledges," says his biographer, "that the benevolent exertions of his patron would not be in vain."

To Mr. Newton, who was then in the country, Buchanan thus writes at this time:-"I was emancipated from the law a few days ago, and am now willing to enter into the eternal bonds of the gospel. I wish to devote my greatest attention to the Bible, and am desirous of adopting some regular plan in studying it.-The bible appears to me

like a confused heap of polished stones prepared for a building, which must be brought together, and each of them fitted to its place, before the proportion and symmetry of the temple appear. I would fain hope that the foundation-stone is laid with me, but the raising of the superstructure appears an arduous undertaking; and the pinnacle of the temple is quite out of sight, even in idea. I never felt myself in more need of divine direction than now. When I consider myself so evidently called forth on the Lord's side,

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my heart is faint, and I am apt to say, 'Who is sufficient for these things?' I find I am unable to go through the important studies before me, unless I am led every step. At present, it appears to me that my whole business at the university is contained in one line of St. Paul, to be enriched with all utterance and all knowledge,' or, in other words, to be eloquent and mighty in the Scriptures,' which are said to have been the accomplishments of the preacher Apollos. But I find that I must attend to various branches of human learning, for which, at