saith Richard Cecil." To this he affixed his signature, though, through infirmity, in a manner hardly legible. In his last hours he dictated a letter to his son, in the East, in which were the following lines: "I am only able now in a dying state to send my blessing and prayers for your welfare. I wish to say, that Christ is your all in time and eternity. I have been in a most affecting state by a paralytic stroke; but Christ is all that can profit you or me-a whole volume would not contain more or so much. O pray day and night for an interest in him! And this is all I can say it being more than having the Indies." Thus regarding the Lord Jesus Christ he lived, and thus he died. Mrs. Cecil, after his decease, observed, that they might say of him as he once said in a letter to a friend, after burying a pious member of his congregation: "After I had put her into the grave the rest went away. I stood looking in: everybody had lamented and said, 'How sad;' I, though I cannot now write for tears, looked in again, and said, 'How well!" 14. CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN. "The soul, reposing on assured relief, Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song." CLAUDIUS BUCHANAN was born at Cambuslang, near Glasgow, March the 12th, 1766. By both his parents he appears to have been carefully trained, from his earliest years, in religious principles and habits. In his fourteenth year he appeared the subject of serious religious impressions; but this hopeful prospect soon vanished, in consequence of his associating with an irreligious companion, and he turned to folly and the world. At the age of seventeen he conceived the romantic design of making the tour of Europe on foot; and near four years afterward actually entered on this wild but favourite plan. Here he acted a guilty part, by deceiving his pious parents as to his motives and expectations in leaving Scotland. The way of transgressors is commonly hard. Long before he reached London, he was tired of his favourite project; yet being too proud to return to his friends, and own his faults, he went forward to the metropolis; where he at length arrived, with his spirits nearly exhausted by distress and poverty. Here he was soon reduced to the lowest extreme of wretchedness and want; and sometimes had not even bread to eat; but even then, though he saw his folly, he saw not his sin. In 1790, he was thoroughly awakened to a sense of his guiltiness by the faithfulness of a young friend, who took occasion to press home upon his conscience and heart the truths and claims of the Gospel. Soon after, he became acquainted with Mr. Newton, and under his friendly instructions and counsel learned the way of peace, and was gradually introduced into a state of "righteousness, and peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost." He felt the powerful influence of the love of Christ, and resolved to live no longer to himself but "unto Him that died for him and rose again.” He soon after informed his mother, at that time his sole surviving parent, of his proceedings and situation. The conclusion of his letter affectingly describes the misery of a sinful course, and the extent of the change which Divine grace had made in him. "The veil," says he, "which was between us is at length rent, and I am in peace; for believe me, I have not, till now, enjoyed a day of peace since I left my father's house. I once thought I would rather suffer torture than betray my secret; but my 'sinews of iron' are become like those of a child. Nothing 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." His mother had almost begun to lose her fond hope of his becoming at length a follower of the Lamb; and received with delight the account of his conversion. While preparing for the ministry, his feelings were thus expressed :— "I dare not tell you what I am, but I can tell you what I pray for. Ι "I pray that I may be content to be of no reputation among men—knowing that, if I am truly wise, I must become a fool amongst the ungodly; that I may patiently submit to indignity and reproach for Christ's sake, and that my whole life may be devoted to his service; that for this purpose I may diligently improve the talent committed to me, however little it may be, and that when I go forth into the ministry I may not seek self, but Christ-content to be unnoticed, dead to the censure or applause of men, alive to God and his concerns, and chiefly solicitous that my preaching may be powerful in awakening souls. "The summit of my ambition, if I know my own mind, is to be daily more conformed to Christ, to be enabled to follow that great sufferer, and to rejoice to be counted worthy to suffer shame for his sake. "I am equally ready to preach the Gospel in the next village or at the ends of the earth." Soon after leaving Cambridge Mr. Buchanan went out as a chaplain to India-which became the theatre of his most distinguished labours. During the administration of the Marquis of Wellesley, religion was favoured, and the cause which lay near the heart of Buchanan was fostered under the protection of that distinguished nobleman, whom the real friends of religion should ever respect, for his attention to that cause which is dearer than life to them. When, under his successor, religion was discouraged, and that favour granted to heathenism and Mohammedanism which was denied to Christianity, Buchanan stood firm as a rock in his opposition to the conduct of an infidel court, and boldly, but respectfully, remonstrated with the supreme government of India on the measures then pursued. In the month of August, 1805, he endured an alarming illness, and conceived that his mortal course was drawing to its conclusion. His feelings and sentiments at that time displayed the powerful effect of the Gospel he had preached. A memorial of his illness was preserved in the handwriting of his coadjutor, Mr. Brown, who watched over him with fraternal anxiety. "On the morning of the 22d, Mr. Brown, on entering the chamber of his sick friend, found him still fixed in his opinion that he should die, and opening his spiritual state to another Christian friend. At this time he took a review of the way in which the Providence of God had led him from his earliest years; and gave his friends a brief sketch of his history. The romantic project of his youth, his residence in London, his conversion to the faith and practice of a real Christian, his career at Cambridge, his voyage to India, and his comparative banishment during the first three years of his residence in that country. At this critical period, he observed, his call by Lord Wellesley to the chaplaincy of the presidency, and the subsequent establishment of the college, had given him an important work to perform; that his preaching indeed [excellent as it was] had been unsatisfactory to himself, but that his spiritual labours and opportunities in college had often afforded him much comfort. After praying earnestly for some time, he lay quite still, and then, with great tranquillity and satisfaction, said: 'What a happy moment! now I am resigned; now I desire not to live. I am unworthy of this.' He then spoke of his hope, and said, that he could only be saved by grace. Alluding to his intended journey to Malabar, which his illness had prevented, he said: 'I am now about to travel not an earthly journey, but still "to unknown regions of the Gospel." I shall now pass over the heads of old men labouring usefully for Christ, and at this early period be advanced to see what "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive," and behold discoveries of the glory of Christ, "God manifest in the flesh," who hath come to us and kindly taken us by the hand. He will lift us out of the deep waters, and set us at his own right hand. I once saw not the things I now see; I knew not the Gospel. Now I pray that the little I have known may be perfected, and that God would complete his work on my soul.' After recovery, the remembrance of this illness, and the impressions which an anticipated death-bed had made on his mind, were ever afterward cherished and retained, and tended to quicken him in his Christian course, and to render him more zealous and unwearied in the service of his heavenly Master. In 1808 he returned to England, where his various publications excited considerable concern for the promotion of religion in the East. As the time of his departure to eternal rest drew near, he appears to have risen more and more above this world. On this subject one of his relations said: "The last time that he visited us, which was in his way to Cambridge, I thought him eminently dead to the world, and, as it were, absorbed in heavenly things. His deep domestic afflictions seemed to have been greatly sanctified to him. He appeared to watch for every opportunity of seasoning our ordinary discourse with the salt |