Some remarkable passages in the life of the Hon. Col. James Gardiner, who was slain at the Battle of Preston-Pans, September 21, 1745. : To which is added, the sermon, occasioned by his heroick death. / By P. Doddridge, D.D. ; [Two lines from Virgil] — Some remarkable passages in the life of the Honourable Col. James Gardiner

Some remarkable passages in the life of the Hon. Col. James Gardiner, who was slain at the Battle of Preston-Pans, September 21, 1745. : To which is added, the sermon, occasioned by his heroick death. / By P. Doddridge, D.D. ; [Two lines from Virgil] — Some remarkable passages in the life of the Honourable Col. James Gardiner

Table of contents

[1]

Title page

TO DAVID GARDINER, ESQ Cornet in Sir John Cope's Regiment of Dragoons.

SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE HONOURABLE COL. JAMES GARDINER.

APPENDIX. Relating to the COLONEL'S Person.

POETICAL PIECES on the Death of Colonel GARDINER.

Verses on the Death of Col. Gardiner. By the Rev. Mr. Benjamin Snowden.

AN ELEGY On the Death of the truly pious and ••ave COL. JAMES GARDINER, Who was slain by the Rebel For•••, September 21, 1745, In the fatal Action at Preston-Pans.

[2]

Title page

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY FRANCES GARDINER.

§

AN HYMN, SUNG AFTER THE SERMON.

§

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE HONOURABLE COL. JAMES GARDINER, Who was slain at the Battle of PRESTON-PANS, September 21, 1745.

TO WHICH IS ADDED, THE SERMON Occasioned by his HEROIC DEATH.

BY P. DODDRIDGE, D.D.

— Justior alter

Nec Pictate fuit, nec Bello major & Armis.

VIRG.

PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED AND SOLD BY STEWART & COCHRAN, No. 34, SOUTH SECOND-STREET. M,DCC,XCV.

[Page]

TO DAVID GARDINER, ESQ Cornet in Sir John Cope's Regiment of Dragoons.

DEAR SIR,

WHILE my heart is following you with a truly paternal solicitude, through all the dangers of military life, in which you are thus early engaged, anxious for your safety amidst the instruments of death, and the far more dangerous allurements of vice; I feel a peculiar pleasure in being able at length, though after such long delays, to put into your hands the MEMOIRS with which I now present you. They contain many particulars, which would have been worthy of your attentive notice, had they related to a person of the most distant nation or age: But they will, I doubt not, command your peculiar regard, as they are sacred to the memory of that excellent man, from whom you had the honour to derive your birth, and by whose generous and affectionate care, you have been laid under all the obligations, which the best of fathers could confer on a most beloved son.

Here, Sir, you see a gentleman, who with all the advantages of a liberal and religious education, added to every natural accomplishment that could render him most agreeable, entered, before he had attained the stature of a man, on those arduous and generous services to which you are devoted, and behaved in them with a gallantry and courage, which will always give a splendor to his name among the British soldiery, and render him an example to all officers of his rank. But alas! amidst all the intrepidity of the Martial Hero, you see him vanquished by the blandishments of pleasure, [Page] and in chace of it plunging himself into follies and vices, for which no want of education or genius could have been a sufficient excuse. You behold him urging the ignoble and fatal pursuit, unmoved by the terrors which death was continually darting around him, and the most signal deliverances by which Providence again and again rescued him from those terrors; till at length he was reclaimed by an evermemorable interposition of divine grace. Then you have the pleasure of seeing him become in good earnest a convert to Christianity, and by speedy advances growing up into one of its brightest ornaments; his mind continually filled with the great ideas which the gospel of our Redeemer suggests, and bringing the blessed influence of its sublime principles into every relation of military and civil, of public and domestic life. You trace him persevering in a steady and uniform course of goodness, through a long series of honourable and prosperous years, the delight of all that were so happy as to know him, and, in his sphere, the most faithful guardian of his country; till at last, worn out with honourable labours, and broken with infirmities which they had hastened upon him before the time, you see him forgetting them at once at the call of duty and Providence; with all the generous ardour of his most vigorous days rushing on the enemies of religion and liberty, sustaining their shock with the most deliberate fortitude, when deserted by those that should have supported him, and chearfully sacrificing the little remains of a mortal life, in the triumphant views of a glorious immortality.

This, Sir, is the noble object I present to your view; and you will, I hope, fix your eye continually upon it, and will never allow yourself for one day to forget, that this illustrious man is COLONEL GARDINER, your ever honoured father; who having approved his fidelity to the death and received a crown of life, seems as it were, by what you here read, to be calling out to you from amidst the cloud of witnesses with which you are surrounded, and urging you by every generous, tender, filial sentiment, to mark the footsteps of his Christian race, and strenuously to maintain that combat, where the victory is through divine grace certain, and the prize an eternal kingdom in the heavens.

[Page]My hopes, Sir, that all these powerful motives will especially have their full efficacy on you, are greatly encouraged by the certainty which I have of your being well acquainted with the evidence of Christianity in its full extent; a criminal ignorance of which, in the midst of great advantages for learning them, leaves so many of our young people a prey to Deism, and so to vice and ruin, which generally bring up its rear. My life would be a continual burthen to me, if I had not a consciousness in the sight of God, that during the years in which the important trust of your education was committed to my care, I had laid before you the proofs both of natural and revealed religion, in what I assuredly esteem to be, with regard to the judgment, if they are carefully examined, an irresistable light; and that I had endeavoured to attend them with those addresses, which might be most likely to impress your heart. You have not, dear Sir, forgotten, and I am confident you can never entirely forget, the assiduity with which I have laboured to form your mind, not only to what might be ornamental to you in human life, but above all to a true taste of what is really excellent, and an early contempt of those vanities by which the generality of our youth, especially in your station, are debased, enerva [...]ed, and undone. My private as well as public addresses for this purpose will, I know, be remembered by you, and the tears of tenderness with which they have so often been accompanied: And may they be so remembered, that they who are most tenderly concerned, may be comforted under the loss of such an inestimable friend as Colonel Gardiner, by seeing that his character, in all its most amiable and resplendent parts, lives in you; and that how difficult soever it may be to act up to that height of expectation, with which the eyes of the world will be fixed on the son of such a father, you are, in the strength of divine grace attempting it; at least are following him with generous emulation, and with daily solicitude, that the steps may be less unequal!

May the Lord God of your father, and I will add, of both your pious and honourable parents, animate your heart more and more with such views and sentiments as these! May he guard your life amidst every scene of danger, to be [Page] a protection and blessing to those that are yet unborn; and may He give you, in some far distant period of time, to resign it by a gentler dissolution than the hero from whom you sprung; or if unerring wisdom appoint otherwise, to end it with equal glory.

I am, Dear Sir, Your ever faithful, Affectionate Friend, and Obliged humble servant, P. DODDRIDGE.

NORTHAMPTON, July 1, 1747.

[Page]

SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF THE HONOURABLE COL. JAMES GARDINER.

§ 1. WHEN I promised the public some larger account of the life and character of this illustrious person, than I could conveniently insert in my sermon on the sad occasion of his death, I was secure, that, if providence continued my capacity of writing, I should not wholly disappoint the expectation. For I was furnished with a variety of particulars, which appeared to me worthy of general notice, in consequence of that intimate friendship with which he had honoured me during the six last years of his life; a friendship which led him to open his heart to me in repeated conversations with an unbounded confidence, (as he then assured me, beyond what he had used with any other man living,) so far as religious experiences were concerned: And I had also received several very valuable letters from him, during the time of our absence from each other, which contained most genuine and edifying traces of his christian character. But I hoped farther to learn many valuable particulars from the papers of his own closet; and from his letters to other friends, as well as from what they more circumstantially knew concerning him: I therefore determined to delay the execution of my promise, till I could enjoy these [Page] advantages for performing it in the most satisfactory manner; nor have I, on the whole, reason to regret that determination.

§. 2. I shall not trouble my reader with all the causes, which concurred to retard these expected assistances for almost a whole year: The chief of them were, the tedious languishing illness of his afflicted lady, through whose hands it was proper the papers should pass; together with the confusion into which the rebels had thrown them, when they ransacked his seat at Bankton, where most of them were deposited. But having now received such of them, as have escaped their [...]acious hands, and could conveniently be collected and [...]ansmitted I set myself with the greatest pleasure to [...]form, what I esteem, not merely a tribute of gratitude to the memory of my invaluable friend, (though never was the memory of any mortal man more precious and sacred to me;) but of duty to God, and my fellow-creatures: For I have a most chearful hope, that the narrative I am now to write will, under the divine blessing, be a means of spreading, what of all things in the world every benevolent heart will most desire to spread, a warm and lively sense of religion.

§. 3. My own heart has been so much edified and animated, by what I have read in the memoirs of persons who have been eminent for wisdom and piety, that I cannot but wish the treasure may be more and more increased: And I would hope, the world may gather the like valuable fruits from the life I am now attempting; not only as it will contain very singular circumstances, which may excite a general curiosity, but as it comes attended with some other particular advantages.

§. 4. The reader is here to survey a character of such eminent and various goodness, as might demand veneration, and inspire him with a desire to imitate it too, had it appeared in the obscurest rank: But it will surely command some peculiar regard when viewed in so elevated and important a station; especially as it shone, not in ecclesiastical, but military life, where the temptations are so many, and the prevalency of the contrary character so great, that it may seem no inconsiderable praise and felicity to be free from dissolute vice, and to retain what in most other professions might be esteemed only a mediocrity of virtue. It may surely with [Page] the highest justice be expected, that the title and bravery of Colonel Gardiner will invite many of our officers and soldiers, to whom his name has long been honourable and dear, to peruse this account of him with some peculiar attention: In consequence of which, it may be a means of increasing the number, and brightening the character, of those who are already adorning their office, their country, and their religion; and of reclaiming those, who will see rather what they ought to be, than what they are. On the whole, to the gentlemen of the sword I would particularly offer these memoirs, as theirs by so distinguished a title: Yet I am firmly persuaded, there are none, whose office is so sacred, or whose proficiency in the religious life is so advanced, but they may find something to demand their thankfulness, and to awaken their emulation.

§. 5. Colonel James Gardiner, of whom we write, was the son of Captain Patrick Gardiner, of the family of Torwood-Head, by Mrs. Mary H [...]dge, of the family of Gladsmuir. The Captain who was master of a handsome estate, served many years in the army of King William and Queen Anne, and died abroad with the British forces in Germany, quickly after the battle of Hochster, through the fatigues he underwent in the duties of that celebrated campaign. He had a company in the regiment of foot, once commanded by Colonel Hodge, his valiant brother-in-law, who was slain at the head of that regiment, (my memorial from Scotland says,) at the battle of Steenkirk, which was fought in the year 1692.

§ 6. Mrs. Gardner, our Colonel's mother, was a lady of a very valuable character; but it pleased God to exercise her with very uncommon trials: For she not only lost her husband and her brother in the service of their country, as before related, but also her eldest son, Mr. Robert Gardiner, on the day which compleated the 16th year of his age, at the siege of Namur, in 1695. But there is great reason to believe, God blessed these various and heavy afflictions as the means of forming her to that eminent degree of piety, which will render her memory honourable as long as it continues.

§. 7. Her second son, the worthy person of whom I am now to give a more particular account, was born at Carriden, in Linlithgow-shire, on the 10th of January, A. D. [Page] 1687-8; the memorable year of that glorious revolution which he justly esteemed among the happiest of all events. So that when he was slain in the defence of those liberties, which God then by so gracious a providence rescued from utter destruction, i. e. on the 21st of September, 1745, he was aged 57 years, 8 months, and 11 days.

§. 8. The annual return of his birth day was observed by him, in the latter and better years of his life, in a manner very different from what is commonly practised: For instead of making it a day of festivity, I am told, he rather distinguished it as a season of more than ordinary humiliation before God; both in commemoration of those mercies which he received in the first opening of life, and under an affectionate sense, as well of his long alienation from the great author and support of his being, as of the many imperfections which he lamented, in the best of his days and services.

§. 9. I have not met with many things remarkable concerning the early years of his life, only that his mother took care to instruct him with great tenderness and affection, in the principles of true christianity. He was also trained up in human literature at the school at Linlithgow, where he made a very considerable progress in the languages. I remember to have heard him quote some passages of the Latin Classicks very pertinently; though his employment in life, and the various turns which his mind took under different impulses in succeeding years, prevented him from cultivating such studies.

§. 10. The good effects of his mother's prudent and exemplary care were not so conspicuous, as she wished and hoped, in the younger part of her son's life; yet there is great reason to believe, they were not entirely lost. As they were probably the occasion of many convictions, which in his younger years were over-borne; so I doubt not, that when religious impressions took that strong hold of his heart which they afterwards did, that stock of knowledge which had been so early laid up in his mind, was found of considerable service And I have heard him make the observation, as an encouragement to parents, and other pious friends, to do their duty, and to hope for those good consequences of it which may not immediately appear.

[Page]§. 11. Could his mother, or a very religious aunt, (of whose good instructions and exhortations I have often heard him speak with pleasure,) have prevailed, he would not have thought of a military life, from which, it is no wonder, these ladies endeavoured to dissuade him, considering the mournful experience they had of the dangers attending [...] and the dear relatives they had lost already by it. But it suited his taste; and the ardor of his spirit, animated by the persuasions of a friend who greatly urged it,* was not to be restrained. Nor will the reader wonder, that thus excited and supported, it easily overbore their tender remonstrances, when he knows, that this lively youth fought three duels before he attained to the stature of a man; in one of which, when he was but eight years old, he received from a boy much older than himself, a wound in his right cheek, the scar of which was always very apparent. The false sense of honour which instigated him to it, might seem indeed something excuseable, in those unripened years, and considering the profession of his father, brother, and uncle; but I have often heard him mention this rashness with that regret, which the reflection would naturally give to so wise and good a man in the maturity of life. And I have been informed, that after his remarkable conversion, he declined accepting a challenge, with this calm and truly great reply which in a man of his experienced bravery was exceeding graceful; "I fear sinning, though you know I do not fear fighting."

§. 12. He served first as a cadet which must have been very early; and then at 14 years old, he bore an ensign's commission in a Scotch regiment in the Dutch service; in which he continued till the year 1702, when (if my information be right,) he received an ensign's commission from Queen Anne, which he bore in the battle of Ramellies, being then in the 19th year of his age. In this ever memorable action, he received a wound in his mouth by a musket-ball, which hath often been reported to be the occasion of his conversion. That report was a mistaken one; but as some very remarkable circumstances attended this affair, which I have had the pleasure of hearing more than once from his own mouth, I hope my reader will excuse me, if I give him so uncommon a story at large.

[Page]§. 13. Our young officer was of a party in the forlorn hope, and was commanded on what seemed almost a desperate service, to dis [...]ssess the French of the church-yard at Ramellies, where a considerable number of them were posted to remarkable advantage. They succeeded much better than was expected; and it may well be supposed that Mr. Gardiner, who had before been in several encounters, and had the view of making his fortune to animate the natural intrepidity of his spirit, was glad of such an opportunity of signalizing himself, accordingly he had planted his colours on an advanced ground; and while he was calling to his men, (probably in that horrid language, which is so peculiar a disgrace to [...]r soldiery, and so absurdly common in such articles of extreme danger,) he received a shot into his mouth; which, without beating out any of his teeth, or touching the fore-part of his tongue, went through his neck, and came out about an inch and an half on the left-side of the vertebrae. Not feeling at first the pain of the stroke, he wondered what was become of the ball, and in the wilderness of his surprize began to suspect he had swallowed it; but dropping soon after, he traced the passage of it by his finger, when he could discover it no other way: which I mention as one circumstance, among many which occur to make it probable that the greater part of those who fall in battle by these instruments of death, feel very little anguish from the most mortal wounds.

§. 14. This accident happened about five or six in the evening, on the 23d day of May, in the year 1706; and the army pursuing its advantages against the French, without ever regarding the wounded (which was it seems the Duke of Marlborough's constant method) our young officer lay all night in the field; agitated as may well be supposed, with a great variety of thoughts. He assured me, that when he reflected upon the circumstances of his wound, that a ball should, as he then conceived it, go through his head without killing him, he thought God had preserved him by miracle; and therefore assuredly concluded, that he should live, abandoned and desperate as his state then seemed to be. Yet, (which to me appeared very astonishing) he had little thoughts of humbling himself before God, and returning to him after the wanderings of a life so licentiously begun.

[Page]But expecting to recover, his mind was taken up with contrivances to secure his gold, of which he had a pretty deal about him; and he had recourse in a very odd expedient, which proved successful. Expecting to be stripped, he first took out a handful of that clotted gore, of which he was frequently obliged to clear his mouth, or he would have been choaked; and putting it into his left-hand, he took out his money (which I think, was about nineteen pistoles) and shutting his hand, and besmearing the back part of it with blood, he kept it in this position till the blood dried in such a manner, that his hand could not easily fall open, though any sudden surprize should happen, in which he might lose the presence of mind which that concealment otherwise would have required.

§ 15 In the morning the French, who were masters of the spot, though their forces were defeated at some distance came to plunder the slain; and seeing him to appearance almost expiring, one of them was just applying a sword to his breast, to destroy the little remainder of life; when in the critical moment, upon which all the extraordinary events of such a life as his afterwards proved were suspended, a cordelier, who attended the plunderers, interposed, taking him by his dress for a Frenchman; and said, "Do not kill that poor child." Our young soldier heard all that passed, though he was not able to speak one word; and opening his eyes, made a sign for something to drink. They gave him a sup of some spirituous liquor, which happened to be at hand; by which he said he found a more sensible refreshment, than he could remember from any thing he had tasted either before or since. Then signing to the friar to lean down his ear to his mouth, he employed the first efforts of his feeble breath in telling him (what, alas was a contrived falsehood) that he was nephew to the governor of Huy, a neutral town in the neighbourhood, and that, if he could take any method of conveying him thither, he did not doubt but his uncle would liberally reward him. He had indeed a friend at Huy, (who I think, was governor, and if I mistake not, had been acquainted with the captain his father) from whom he expected a kind reception: but the relation was only pretended. On hearing this, they laid him on a sort of hand-barrow, and sent him by a file of musquet [...]rs towards the [Page] place; but the [...] [...]st their way, and got into a wood toward: the evening, in which they were obliged to continue all night. The poor patient [...]nd being still undressed, it is not to be wondered that by this time it raged violently.

The anguish of it engaged him earnestly to beg that they would either kill him outright, or leave him there to die, without the torture of any farther motion; and indeed they were obliged to rest for a considerable time, on account of their own weariness. Thus he spent the second night in the open air, without any thing more than a common bandage to stanch the blood. He hath often mentioned it as a most astonishing providence, that he did not bleed to death; which, under God, he ascribed to the remarkable coldness of these two nights.

§. 16. Judging it quite unsafe to attempt carrying him to Huy, from whence they were now several miles distant, his convoy took him early in the morning to a convent in the neighbourhood; where he was hospitably received, and treated with great kindness and tenderness. But the cure of his wound was committed to an ignorant barber surgeon, who lived near the house: the best shift that could then be made, at a time when it may easily be supposed persons of ability in their profession had their hands full of employment. The tent which this artist applied, was almost like a peg driven into the wound; and gentlemen of skill and experience, when they came to hear of the manner in which he was treated, wondered how he could possibly survive such management. But by the blessing of God on these applications, rough as they were, he recovered in a few months. The lady abb [...]ss, who called him her son, treated him with the affection and care of a mother; and he always declared, that every thing which he saw within these walls, was conducted with the strictest decency and decorum. He received a great many devout admonitions from the ladies there; and they would fain have persuaded him to acknowledge what they thought so miraculous a deliverance, by embracing the catholic faith, as they were pleased to call it. But they could not succeed: for though no religion lay near his heart, yet he had too much of the spirit of a gentleman, lightly to change that form of religion, which he wore (as it were) loose about him; as well as too much good sense, to swallow those monstrous absurdities of popery, which immediately [Page] presented themselves to him, unacquainted as he was with the niceties of the controversy.

§. 17. When his liberty was regained by an exchange of prisoners, and his health thoroughly established, he was far from rendering unto the Lord according to that wonderful display of divine mercy which he had experienced. I know very little of the particulars of those wild, thoughtless, and wretched years, which lay between the 19th and the 30th of his life; except it be, that he frequently experienced the divine goodness in renewed instances, particularly in preserving him in several hot military actions in all which he never received so much as a wound after this, forward as he was in tempting danger; and yet, that all these years were spent in an entire alienation from God, and an eager pursuit of animal pleasure, as his supreme good. The series of criminal amours in which he was almost incessantly engaged during this time, must probably have afforded some remarkable adventures and occurrences; but the memory of them is perished. Nor do I think it unworthy notice here, that amidst all the intimacy of our friendship, and the many hours of chearful, as well as serious converse, which we spent together, I never remember to have heard him speak of any of these intrigues, otherwise than in the general with deep and solemn abhorrence This I the rather mention, as it seemed a most genuine proof of his unfeigned repentance; which, I think, there is great reason to suspect, when people seem to take a pleasure in relating and describing scenes of vicious indulgence, which yet they profess to have disapproved and forsaken.

§. 18. Amidst all these pernicious wanderings from the paths of religion, virtue, and happiness, he approved himself so well in his military character, that he was made a lieutenant in that year, viz. 1706: And I am told, he was very quickly after promoted to a cornet's commission in lord Stair's regiment of the Scotch greys; and on the 31st of January, in the year 1714-15, was made captain li [...]utenant in Colonel Ker's regiment of dragoons. He had the honour of being known to the Earl of Stair some time before, and was made his aid de-camp; and when, upon his lordship's being appointed ambassador from his late majesty to the court of France, he made so splendid an entrance into Paris, Captain Gardiner was his master of the horse; [Page] and I have been told, that a great deal of the care of that admirably well adjusted ceremony fell upon him; so that he gained great credit by the manner in which he conducted it. Under the benign influences of his lordship's favour, (which to the last day of his life he retained,) a captain's commission was procured for him, (dated July 22, in the year 1715,) in the regiment of dragoons commanded by Colonel Stanhope, (now Earl of Harrington;) and, in the year 1717, he was advanced to the majority of that regiment; in which office he continued till it was reduced, on November the 10th, 1718; when he was put out of commission. But then his majesty King George I. was so thoroughly apprized of his faithful and important services, that he gave him his sign-manual, intituling him to the first majority that should become vacant, in any regiment of horse or dragoons; which happened, about five years after, to be in Croft's regiment of dragoons, in which he received a commission, dated June the 1st, 1724; and on the 20th of July the same year, he was made major of an older regiment, commanded by the Earl of Stair.

§. 19. As I am now speaking of so many of his military preferments, I will dispatch the account of them by observing, that on the 2 [...]th of January, 1729-30, he was advanced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the same regiment, long under the command of Lord Cadogan; with whose friendship this brave and vigilant officer was also honoured for many years. And he continued in this rank, and regiment, till the 19th of April, 1743, when he received a colonel's commission over a regiment of dragoons, lately commanded by Brigadier Bland; at the head of which he valiantly sell, in the defence of his sovereign and his country, about two years and an half after he received it.

§. 20 We will now return to that period of his life which passed at Paris, the scene of such remarkable and important events. He continued (if I remember right,) several years under the roof of the brave and generous Earl of Stair; to whom he endeavoured to approve himself by every instance of diligent and faithful service. And his lordship gave no inconsiderable proof of the dependance which he had upon him, when, in the beginning of the year 1715, he intrusted him with the important dispatches, relating to a discovery, which by a series of admirable policy he had made, of [Page] a design which the French king was then forming, for invading Great-Britain in favour of the pretender; in which the French apprehended they were so sure of success, that it seemed a point of friendship in one of the chief counsellors of that court, to dissuade a dependant of his from accepting some employment under his Britannic majesty, when proposed by his envoy there; because it was said, that in less than six weeks there would be a revolution, in favour of what they called the family of the Stuarts. The captain dispatched his journey with the utmost speed; a variety of circumstances happily concurred to accelerate it; and they, who remember how soon the regiments which that emergency required were raised and armed, will, I doubt not, esteem it a memorable instance, both of the most cordial zeal in the friends of the government, and of the gracious care of divine providence over the house of Hanover, and the British liberties, so inseparably connected with its interest.

§. 21. While Captain Gardiner was at London, in one of the journies he made upon this occasion, he, with that frankness which was natural to him, and which in those days was not always under the most prudent restraint, ventured to predict, from what he knew of the bad state of the French king's health, that he would not live six weeks. This was made known by some spies who were at St. James's, and came to be reported at the court of Versailles; for he received letters from some friends at Paris, advising him not to return thither, unless he could reconcile himself to a lodging in the bastile. But he was soon free from that apprehension; for, if I mistake not, before half that time was accomplished, Louis XIV. died, Sept. 1, 1715, and it is generally thought, his death was hastened by a very accidental circumstance, which had some reference to the captain's prophecy. For the last time he ever dined in public, which was a very little while after the report of it had been made there, he happened to discover our British envoy among the spectators. The penetration of this illustrious person was too great, and his attachment to the interest of his royal master too well known, not to render him very disagreeable to that crafty and tyrannical prince, whom God had so long suffered to be the disgrace of monarchy, and the scourge of Europe. He at first appeared very languid, as [Page] indeed he was; but on casting his eye upon the Earl of Stair, he affected to appear before him in a much better state of health than he really was; and therefore, as if he had been awakened on a sudden from some deep reverie, he immediately put himself into an erect posture, called up a laboured vivacity into his countenance, and eat much more heartily than was by any means adviseable, repeating it two or three times to a nobleman, (I think the Duke of Bourbon,) then in waiting, ‘Methinks I eat very well, for a man who is to die so soon*.’ But this inroad upon that regularity of living, which he had for some time observed, agreed so ill with him, that he never recovered this meal, but died in less than a fortnight. This gave occasion for some humorous people to say, that old Louis after all, was killed by a Briton. But if this story be true, (which I think there can be no room to doubt, as the colonel, from whom I have often heard it, though absent, could scarce be misinformed,) it might more properly be said, that he fell by his own vanity; in which view I thought it so remarkable, as not to be unworthy a place in these memoirs.

§. 22. The captain quickly returned, and continued with small interruptions at Paris, at least till the year 1720, and how much longer I do not certainly know. The Earl's favor and generosity made him easy in his affairs though he was (as has been observed above,) part of the time out of commission, by breaking the regiment to which he belonged, of which before he was major. This was, in all probability, the gayest part of his life, and the most criminal. Whatever wise and good examples he might find in the family where he had the honour to reside it is certain that the French court, during the regency of the Duke of Orleans, was one of the most dissolute under heaven. What, by a wretched abuse of language, have been called intrigues of love and gallantry, were so entirely to the major's then degenerate taste, that if not the whole business, at least the whole happiness of his life consisted in them; and he had now too much leisure, for one who was so prone to abuse it. His fine constitution, than which perhaps there was hard [...]y ever a better, gave him great opportunities of indulging himself in these excesses; and his good spirits enabled him [Page] to pursue his pleasures of every kind, in so alert and sprightly a manner, that multitudes envied him, and called him, by a dreadful kind of compliment, "the Happy Rake."

§. 23. Yet still the checks of conscience, and some remaining principles of so good an education, would break in upon his most licentious hours; and I particularly remember he told me, that when some of his dissolute companions were once congratulating him on his distinguished felicity, a dog happening at that time to come into the room, he could not forbear groaning inwardly, and saying to himself, "Oh that I were that dog!" Such was then his happiness; and such perhaps is that of hundreds more, who bear themselves highest in the contempt of religion, and glory in that infamous servitude which they affect to call liberty, But these remonstrances of reason and conscience were in vain; and, in short, he carried things so far, in this wretched part of his life, that I am well assured, some sober English gentlemen, who made no great pretences to religion, how agreeable soever he might have been to them on other accounts, rather declined than sought his company, as fearing they might have been insnared and corrupted by it.

§. 24. Yet I cannot find, that in these most abandoned days, he was fond of drinking. Indeed he never had any natural relish for that kind of intemperance, from which he used to think a manly pride might be sufficient to preserve persons of sense and spirit; as by it they give up every thing that distinguishes them from the meanest of their species, or indeed from animals the most below it. So that, if he ever fell into any excesses of this kind, it was merely out of complaisance to his company, and that he might not appear stiff and singular. His frank, obliging, and generous temper, procured him many friends; and these principles, which rendered him amiable to others, not being under the direction of true wisdom and piety, sometimes made him, in the ways of living he pursued, more uneasy to himself, than he might perhaps have been if he could entirely have out-grown them; especially as he was never a sceptic in his principles, but still retained a secret apprehension, that natural and revealed religion, though he did not much care to think of either, were sounded in truth. And with this conviction, his notorious violations of the most essential precepts of both could not but occasion some secret misgivings [Page] of heart. His continual neglect of the great Author of his being, of whose perfections he could not doubt, and to whom he knew himself to be under daily and perpetual obligations, gave him, in some moments of involuntary reflection, inexpressible remorse; and this, at times, wrought upon him to such a degree, that he resolved he would attempt to pay him some acknowledgements. Accordingly for a few mornings he did it; repeating in retirement some passages out of the Psalms, and perhaps other scriptures, which he still retained in his memory; and owning, in a few strong words, the many mercies and deliverances he had received, and the ill returns he had made for them.

§. 25. I find, among the other papers transmitted to me, the following verses, which I have heard him repeat, as what had impressed him a good deal in his unconverted state: and as I suppose they did something towards setting him on this effort towards devotion, and might probably furnish out a part of these orisons, I hope I need make no apology to my reader for inserting them, especially as I do not recollect that I have seen them any where else,

Attend, my soul! The early birds inspire

My grov'ling thoughts with pure celestial fire:

They from their temp'rate sleep awake, and pay

Their thankful anthems for the new-born day.

See, how the tuneful lark is mounted high,

And, poet like, salutes the eastern sky!

He wari [...] through the fragrant air his lays,

And seems the beauties of the morn to praise.

But man, more void of gratitude, awakes,

And gives no thanks for the sweet rest he takes;

Looks on the glorious sun's new-kindled flame,

Without one thought of Him from whom it came.

The wretch unhallow'd does the day begin;

Shakes off his sleep, but shakes not off his sin.

§. 26. But these strains were too devout to continue long in a heart as yet quite unsanctified: For how readily soever he could repeat such acknowledgments of the divine power, presence, and goodness, and own his own follies and faults; he was slopt short by the remonstrances of his conscience, as to the flagrant absurdity, of confessing sins he did not desire [Page] to forsake, and of pretending to praise God for his mercies, when he did not endeavour to live to his service, and to behave in such a manner as gratitude, if sincere, would plainly dictate. A model of devotion, where such sentiments made no part, his good sense could not digest; and the use of such language before an heart searching God, merely as an hypocritical form, while the sentiments of his soul were contrary to it, justly appeared to him such daring profaneness, that, irregular as the state of his mind was, the thought of it struck him with horror. He therefore determined to make no more attempts of this sort; and was perhaps one of the first, that deliberately laid aside prayer, from some sense of God's omniscience, and some natural principle of honour and conscience.

§. 27. These secret debates with himself, and ineffectual efforts, would sometimes return: but they were over-borne again and again, by the force of temptation; and it is no wonder, that in consequence of them his hear [...] grew yet harder. Nor was it softened, or awakened, by some very memorable deliverances, which at this time he received.— He was in extreme danger by a fall from his horse, as he was riding post, (I think in the streets of Calais) when going down a hill, the horse threw him over his head, and pitched over him; so that when he rose, the beast lay beyond him, and almost dead. Yet, though he received not the least harm, it made no serious impression on his mind — In his return from England in the packet boat, (if I remember right, but a few weeks after the former accident,) a violent storm, that drove them up to Harwich, tossed them from thence for several hours in a dark night on the coast of Holland, and brought them into such extremity that the captain of the vessel urged him to go to prayers immediately, if he ever intended to do it at all; for he concluded, they would in a few minutes be at the bottom of the sea. In this circumstance, he did pray, and that very fervently too: and it was very remarkable, that while he was crying to God for deliverance, the wind fell, and quickly after they arrived at Calais, But the major was so little affected with what had befallen him, that when some of his gay friends, on hearing the story, rallied him upon the efficacy of his prayers, he excused himself from the scandal of being thought much in earnest, by saying, ‘that it was at midnight, an hour when [Page] his good mother and aunt were asleep; or else he should have left that part of the business to them.’ A speech, which I should not have mentioned, but as it shews in so lively a view the wretched situation of his mind at that time, though his great deliverance from the power of darkness was then nearly approaching. He recounted these things to me with the greatest humility, as shewing how utterly unworthy he was of that miracle of divine grace, by which he was quickly after brought to so true, and so prevalent, a sense of religion.

§. 28. And now I am come to that astonishing part of his story, the account of his Conversion; which I cannot enter upon with [...] assuring my reader, that I have sometimes been tempted to suppress many circumstances of it, not only, as they may seem incredible to some, and enthusiastical to others; but as I am very sensible, they are liable to great abuses; which was the reason that he gave me, for concealing the most extraordinary from many persons, to whom he mentioned some of the rest. And I believe it was this, together with the desire of avoiding every thing that might look like oftentation on this head, that prevented his leaving a written account of it; though I have often entreated him to do it: As I particularly remember I did, in the very last letter I ever wrote him, and pleaded the possibility of his falling amidst those dangers, to which I knew his valour might in such circumstances naturally expose him. I was not so happy as to receive any answer to this letter, which reached him but a few days before his death: nor can I certainly say, whether he had, or had not, complied with my request; as it is very possible, a paper of that kind, if it were written, might be lost amidst the ravages which the rebels made, when they plundered Bankton.

§. 29. The story however was so remaakable, that I had little reason to apprehend I should ever forget it; and yet, to guard against all contingencies of that kind, I wrote it down that very evening, as I had heard it from his own mouth: And I have now before me the memoirs of that conversation, dated Aug. 14, 1739, which conclude with these words; (which I added, that if we should both have died that night, the world might not have lost this edifying and affecting history, or have wanted any attestation of it I was capable of giving;) ‘N. B. I have written down this account with [Page] all the exactness I am capable of, and could safely take an oath of it as to the truth of every circumstance, to the best of my remembrance, as the Colonel related it to me a few hours ago.’ I do not know, that I had reviewed this paper since I wrote it, till I set myself thus publicly to record this extraordinary fact; but I find it punctually to agree with what I have often related from my memory, which I charged carefully with so wonderful and important a fact. It is with all solemnity that I now deliver it down to posterity, as in the sight and presence of God. And I choose deliberately to expose myself to those severe censures, which the haughty, but empty, scorn of infidelity, or principles nearly approaching it, and effectually doing its pernicious work, may very probably dictate upon the occasion; rather than to smother a relation, which may in the judgment of my conscience, be like to conduce so much to the glory of God, the honour of the gospel, and the good of mankind. One thing more I will only premise, that I hope, none who have heard the Colonel himself speak something of this wonderful scene, will be surprized if they find some new circumstances here; because he assured me at the time he first gave me the whole narration, (which was in the very room in which I now write,) that he had never imparted it so fully to any man living before. Yet, at the same time, he gave me full liberty to communicate it to whomsoever I should in my conscience judge it might be useful to do it, whether before, or after his death. Accordingly I did, while he was alive, recount almost every circumstance I am now going to write, to several pious friends; referring them at the same time to the colonel himself, whenever they might have an opportunity of seeing or writing to him, for a farther confi [...]ation of what I told them, if they judged it requisite. They glorified God in him; and I humbly hope, many of my [...]aders will also do it. They will s [...]on perceive the reason of so much caution in my introduction to this story for which therefore I shall make no further apology."†

[Page]§. 30. This memorable event happened toward the middle of July, 1719. but I cannot be exact as to the day. The major had spent the evening (and if I mistake not, it was the Sabbath,) in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with a married woman, of what rank or quality, I did not particularly enquire, whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. The company broke up about eleven; and not judging it convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber, to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book or some other way. But it very accidentally happened that he took up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly, The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm; and was written by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by the title of it, that he should find some phrases of his own profession spiritualized, in a manner which he thought might afford him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it: but he took no serious notice of any thing he read in it: And yet, while this book was in his hand, an impression was made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows how,) which drew after it a train of the most important and happy consequences.

§ 31. There is indeed a possibility, that while he was sitting in this attitude, and reading in this careless and profane manner, he might suddenly fall asleep, and only dream of what he apprehended he saw. But nothing can be more certain, than that, when he gave me this relation, he judged himself to have been as broad awake during the whole time, as he ever was in any part of his life; and he mentioned it to me several times afterwards, as what undoubtedly [Page] passed, not only in his imagination, but before his eyes.†

§. 32. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall on the book while he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle. But lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory; and was impressed, as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect, (for he was not confident as to the very words,) ‘Oh sinner, did I suffer this for thee, and are these the returns?’ But whether this were an audible voice, or only a strong impression on his mind equally striking, he did not seem very confident; though, to the best of my remembrance, he rather judged it to be the former. Struck with so amazing a phaenomenon as this, there remained hardly any life in him, so that he sunk down in the arm-chair in which he sat, and continued, he knew not exactly how long, insensible; (which was one circumstance, that made me several times take the liberty to suggest, that he might possibly be all this while asleep:) but however that were, he quickly after opened his eyes, and saw nothing more than usual.

§. 33. It may easily be supposed, he was in no condition to make any observation upon the time, in which he had remained in an insensible state. Nor did he, throughout all the remainder of the night, once recollect that criminal and detestable assignation, which had before engrossed all his [Page] thoughts. He rose in a tumult of passions, not to be conceived; and walked to and fro in his chamber, till he was ready to drop down, in unutterable astonishment and agony of heart; appearing to himself the vilest monster in the creation of God, who had all his life-time been crucifying Christ afresh by his sins, and now saw, as he assuredly believed, by a miraculous vision, the horror of what he had done. With this was connected such a view, both of the majesty and goodness of God, as caused him to loath and abhor himself, and to repent as in dust and ashes. He immediately gave judgment against himself, that he was most justly worthy of eternal damnation: He was astonished, that he had not been immediately struck dead in the midst of his wickedness: And (which I think deserves particular remark,) though he assuredly believed that he should ere long be in hell, and settled it as a point with himself for several months, that the wisdom and justice of God did almost necessarily require, that such an enormous sinner should be made an example of everlasting vengeance, and a spectacle as such both to angels and men, so that he hardly durst presume to pray for pardon; yet what he then suffered, was not so much from the fear of hell, though he concluded it would soon be his portion, as from a sense of that horrible ingratitude he had shewn to the God of his life, and to that blessed Redeemer, who had been in so affecting a manner set forth as crucified before him.

§. 34. To this he refers in a letter, dated from Douglas, April 1, 1725. communicated to me by his lady*, but I know not to whom it was addressed. His words are these: ‘One thing relating to my conversion, and a remarkable instance of the goodness of God to me the chief of sinners, [Page] I do not remember that I ever told to any other person. It was this; that after the astonishing sight I had of my blessed Lord, the terrible condition in which I was, proceeded not so much from the terrors of the law, as from a sense of having been so ungrateful a monster to him whom I thought I saw pierced for my transgressions.’ I the rather insert these words, as they evidently attest the circumstance which may seem most amazing in this affair, and contain so express a declaration of his own apprehension concerning it.

§. 35 In this view it may naturally be supposed, that he passed the remainder of the night waking; and he could get but little rest in several that followed His mind was continually taken up in reflecting on the divine purity and goodness; the grace which had been proposed to him in the gospel, and which he had rejected; the singular advantages he had enjoyed and abused; and the many favours of providence which he had received, particularly in rescuing him from so many eminent dangers of death, which he now saw must have been attended with such dreadful and hopeless destruction. The privileges of his education, which he had so much despised, now lay with an almost insupportable weight on his mind; and the folly of that career of sinful pleasure, which he had so many years been running with desperate eagerness and unworthy delight, now filled him with indignation against himself, and against the great deceiver, by whom (to use his own phrase,) he had been "so wretchedly and scandalously be fooled." This he used often to express in the strongest terms; which I shall not repeat so particularly, as I cannot recollect some of them. But on the whole, it is certain, that by what passed before he left his chamber the next day, the whole frame and disposition of his soul was new-modelled and changed; so that he became, and continued to the last day of his exemplary and truly christian life, the very reverse of what he had been before. A variety of particulars, which I am afterwards to mention, will illustrate this in the most convincing manner. [Page] But I cannot proceed to them, without pausing a while to adore so illustrious an instance of the power and freedom of divine grace, and intreating my reader seriously to reflect upon it, that his own heart may be suitably affected. For surely if the truth of the fact be admitted, in the lowest views in which it can be placed, (that is, supposing the first impression to have passed in a dream,) it must be allowed to have been little, if any thing, less than miraculous. It cannot in the course of nature be imagined, how such a dream should arise in a mind, full of the most impure ideas and affections, and (as he himself often pleaded,) more alienated from the thoughts of a crucified Saviour, than from any other object that can be conceived: Nor can we surely suppose, it should, without a mighty energy of the divine power, be effectual to produce, not only some transient flow of passion, but so entire and so permanent a change in character and conduct.

§. 36. On the whole therefore, I must beg leave to express my own sentiments of the matter, by repeating on this occasion what I wrote several years ago, in my eighth sermon on regeneration, in a passage dictated chiefly by the circumstantial knowledge which I had of this amazing story, and methinks sufficiently vindicated by it, if it stood entirely alone; which yet, I must take the liberty to say, it does not: for I hope the world will be particularly informed, that there is at least a second, that very nearly approaches it, whenever the established church of England shall lose one of its brightest living ornaments, and one of the most useful members, which that, or perhaps any other christian communion, can beast: In the mean time, may his exemplary life be long continued, and his zealous ministry abundantly prospered! I beg my reader's pardon for this digression. The passage I referred to above is remarkably, though not equally, applicable to both the cases, as it stands in page 263, of the first edition, and page 160, of the second; under that head, where I am shewing, that God sometimes accomplishes the great work of which we speak, by secret and immediate impressions on the mind. After preceding illustrations, there are the following words, on which the colonel's conversion will throw the justest light: ‘Yes I have known those of distinguished genius, polite manners, and great experience in human affairs, who, after [Page] having outgrown all the impressions of a religious education; after having been hardened, rather than subdued, by the most singular mercies, even various, repeated, and astonishing deliverances, which have appeared to themselves no less than miraculous; after having lived for years without God in the world, notoriously corrupt themselves, and labouring to the utmost to corrupt others; have been stopt on a sudden in the full career of their sin, and have felt such rays of the divine presence, and of redeeming love, darting in upon their minds, almost like lightning from heaven, as have at once rouzed, overpowered, and transformed them: So that they have come out of their secret chambers with an irreconcileable enmity to those vices, to which, when they entered them, they were the tamest and most abandoned slaves; and have appeared from that very hour the vo [...]aries, the patrons, the champions of religion; and after a course of the most resolute attachment to it, in spite of all the reasonings or the railleries, the importunities or the reproaches, of its enemies, they have continued to this day some of its brightest ornaments: A change, which I behold with equal wonder and delight, and which, if a nation should join in deriding it, I would adore as the finger of God.’

§. 37. The mind of major Gardiner continued from this remarkable time till towards the end of October, (that is, rather more than three months, but especially the two first of them,) in as extraordinary a situation as one can well imagine; he knew nothing of the joys arising from a sense of pardon; but on the contrary, for the greater part of that time, and with very short intervals of hope toward the end of it, took it for granted, that he must, in all probability, quickly perish. Nevertheless he had such a sense of the evil of sin, of the goodness of the divine being, and of the admirable tendency of the christian revelation, that he resolved to spend the remainder of his life, while God continued him out of hell, in as rational and as useful a manner as he could; and to continue casting himself at the feet of divine mercy, every day, and often in a day, if peradventure there might be hope of pardon, of which all that he could say was, that he did not absolutely despair He had at that time such a sense of the degeneracy of his own heart, [Page] that he hardly durst form any determinate resolution against sin, or pretend to engage himself by any [...]ow in the presence of God; but he was continually crying to him, that he would deliver him from the bondage of corruption. He perceived in himself a most surprizing alteration with regard to the dispositions of his heart; so that, though he felt little of the delight of religious duties, he extremely desired opportunities of being engaged in them; and those licen [...] pleasures, which had before been his heaven, were now absolutely his aversion. And indeed, when I consider how habitual those criminal indulgences were grown to him and that he was now in the prime of life, and all this while in high health too, I cannot but be astonished to reflect upon it, that he should be so wonderfully sanctified in body, as well as in his soul and spirit, as tha [...], for all the future years of his life, he, from that how, should find so constant a disinclination to, and abhorance of, those criminal sensualities, to which he fancied he was before so invincibly impelled by his very constitution, that he was used strangely to think and to say, that omnipotence itself co [...] not r [...]rm him, without destroying that body, and giving him another.*

[Page]§. 38. Nor was he only delivered from that bondage of corruption, which had been habitual to him for so many years, but he felt in his breast so contrary a disposition, that he was grieved to see human nature, in those to whom he was most entirely a stranger, prostituted to such low and contemptible pursuits. He therefore exerted his natural courage in a very new kind of combat, and became an open advocate for religion, in all its principles, so far as he was acquainted with them, and all its precepts, relating to so [...]iety, righteousness, and godliness. Yet he was very desirous and cautious, that he might not run into an extreme, and made it one of his first petitions to God, the very day after these amazing impressions had been wrought in his mind, that he might not be suffered to behave with such an effected strictness and preciseness, as would lead others about him into mistaken notions of religion, and expose it to reproach or suspicion, as if it were an unlovely or uncomfortable thing. For this reason he endeavoured to appear as chearful in conversation, as he conscientiously could; though, in spite of all his precautions, some traces of that deep in [...] sense which he had of his guilt and misery, would at times appear. He made no secret of it however, that his views were entirely changed, though he concealed the particular circumstances attending that change. He told his most intimate companions freely, that he had reflected on the course of life in which he had so long joined them, and found it to be folly and madness, unworthy a rational creature, and much more unworthy persons calling themselves christians. And he set up his standard, upon all occasions, against principles of infidelity, and practices of vice, as determinately, and as boldly, as ever he displayed or planted his colours, when he bore them with so much honour in the field.

§. 39. I cannot forbear mentioning one struggle of this kind, which he described to me, with a large detail of circumstances, the first day of our acquaintance. There was at that time in Paris a certain lady, (whose name, then [Page] well known in the grand and the gay world, I must beg leave to conceal,) who had imbibed the principles of deism, and valued herself much upon being an avowed advocate for them. The major, with his usual frankness, (though I doubt not with that politeness of manners, which was so habitual to him, and which he retained throughout his whole life,) answered her, like a man who perfectly saw through the fallacy of her arguments, and was grieved to the heart for her delusion. On this she briskly challenged him to debate the matter at large, and to fix upon a day for that purpose, when he should dine with her, attended with any clergyman he might chuse, whether of the protestant, or catholic communion. A sense of duty would not allow him to decline this challenge; and yet he had no sooner accepted it, but he was thrown into great perplexity and distress, left being (as I remember he expressed it, when he told me the story,) only a christian of six weeks old, he should prejudice so good a cause, by his unskilful manner of defending it. However, he sought his refuge in earnest and repeated prayers to God, that he who can ordain strength, and perfect praise, out of the mouth of babes and sucklings, would graciously enable him, on this occasion, to vindicate his truths in a manner which might carry conviction along with it. He then endeavoured to marshal the arguments in his own mind, as well as he could; and apprehending that he could not speak with so much freedom before a number of persons, especially before such, whose province he might in that ease seem to invade, if he had not devolved the principal part of the discourse upon them, he easily admitted the apology of a clergyman or two, to whom he mentioned the affair and waited on the lady alone upon the day appointed. But his heart was so set upon the business, that he came earlier than he was expected, and time enough to have two hours discourse before dinner; nor did he at all decline having two young persons, nearly related to the lady, present during the conference.

§. 40. The major opened it, with a view of such arguments for the christian religion as he had digested in his own mind, to prove that the apostles were not mistaken themselves, and that they could not have intended to impose upon us, in the accounts they give of the grand facts they attest; with the truth of which facts, that of the christian [Page] religion is most apparently connected. And it was a great encouragement to him, to find, that unaccustomed as he was to discourses of this nature, he had an unusual command, both of thought, and expression; so that he recollected, and uttered every thing, as he could have wished. The lady heard with attention; and though he paused between every branch of the argument, she did not interrupt the course of it, till he told her, he had finished his design, and waited for her reply. She then produced some of her objections, which he took up and canvassed in such a manner, that at length she burst out into tears, allowed the force of his arguments and replies, and appeared, for some time after, so deeply impressed with the conversation, that it was observed by several of her friends: and there is reason to believe, that the impression continued at least so far as to prevent her from ever appearing under the character of an unbeliever or a sceptic.

§. 41. This is only one specimen among many, of the battles he was almost daily called out to fight, in the cause of religion and virtue; with relation to which I find him expressing himself thus, in a letter to Mrs. Gardiner his good mother, dated from Paris, the 25th of January following, that is, 1719-20. in answer to one, in which she had warned him to expect such trials. ‘I have (says he,) already met with them and am obliged to fight, and to dispute every inch of ground: But all thanks and praise to the great Captain of my salvation, he fights for me; and then it is no wonder, that I come off more than conqueror;’ by which last expression I suppose he meant to insinuate, that he was strengthened and established, rather than overborne by this opposition. Yet it was not immediately, that he gained such fortitude. He has often told me, how much he felt in those days, of the emphasis of those well-chosen words of the apostle, in which he ranks the trial of cruel mockings, with scourgings, and bonds, and imprisonments, The continual railleries with which he was received, in almost all companies where he had been most familiar before, did often distress him beyond measure; so that he has several times declared, he would much rather have marched up to a battery of the enemy's cannon, than have been obliged, so continually as he was, to face such artillery as this. But, like a brave soldier in the first action wherein he is engaged, [Page] he continued resolute, [...] [...]ror of the assault; and quickly [...] [...]uch it is not perhaps in nature [...] [...]efore I find him in the letter refer [...] [...] [...]s written about half a year after his [...] [...]amed to "think of the uneasiness which [...] gave him." In a word, he went on, as every [...] christian by divine grace may do, till he turned ridicule and opposition into respect and veneration.

§. 42. But this sensible triumph over these difficulties was not, till his christian experience had been abundantly advanced, by the blessing of God on the sermons he heard, (particularly in the Swiss chapel,) and on the many hours which he spent in devout retirement, pouring out his whole soul before God in prayer He began, within about two months after his first memorable change, to perceive some secret dawnings of more chearful hope, that vile as he saw himself to be, (and I believe no words can express, how vile that was,) he might nevertheless obtain mercy through a Redeemer. And at length, (if I remember right, about the end of October, 1719,) he found all the burthen of his mind taken off at once, by the powerful impression of that memorable scripture upon his mind; Rom iii 25, 26. ‘Whom God hath set forth for a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness in the remission of sins,—that he might be just, and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.’ He had used to imagine, that the justice of God required the damnation of so enormous a sinner, as he saw himself to be. But now he was made deeply sensible, that the divine justice might be, not only vindicated, but glorified, in saving him by the blood of Jesus, even that blood which "cleanseth us from all sin." Then did he see, and feel, the riches of redeeming love and grace, in such a manner, as not only engaged him, with the utmost pleasure and confidence to venture his soul upon it; but even swallowed up, (as it were) his whole heart in the returns of love, which from that blessed time became the genuine and delightful principle of his obedience, and animated him with an enlarged heart, to run the way of God's commandments. Thus God was pleased, (as he himself used to speak,) in an hour to turn his captivity. All the terrors of his former state were changed into unutterable joy, which kept him almost continually [Page] waking for three nights together and yet refreshed him as the noblest of cordials. His expressions, though naturally very strong, always seemed to be s [...]allowed up, when he would describe the series of thought through which he now passed, under the rapturous experience of that joy unspeakable, and full of glory, which then seemed to overflow his very soul; as indeed there was nothing he seemed to speak of with greater relish. And though the first extasies of it afterwards subsided into a more calm and composed delight; yet were the impressions so deep, and so permanent, that he assured me, on the word of a christian and a friend, wonderful as it might seem, that for about seven years after this he enjoyed almost an heaven upon earth. His soul was so continually filled with a sense of the love of God in Christ, that it knew little interruption, but when necessary converse, and the duties of his station, called off his thoughts for a little time: And when they did so, as soon as he was alone, the torrent returned into its natural channel again; so that from the minute of his awakening in the morning, his heart was rising to God, and triumphing in him; and these thoughts attended him through all the scenes of life, till he lay down on his bed again, and a short parenthesis of sleep (for it was but a very short one that he allowed himself,) invigorated his animal powers, for renewing them with greater intenseness and sensibility.

§. 43. I shall have an opportunity of illustrating this in the most convincing manner below, by extracts from several letters which he wrote to intimate friends during this happy period of time; letters, which breathe a spirit of such sublime and servent piety, as I have seldom met with any where else. In these circumstances, it is no wonder, that he was greatly delighted with Doctor Watts's imitation of the 126th Psalm; since it may be questioned, whether there ever was a person, to whom the following stanzas of it were more suitable.

I.

When God reveal'd his gracious name,

And chang'd my mournful state,

My rapture seem'd a pleasing dream;

The grace appear'd so great.

[Page]

II.

The world beheld the glorious change,

And did thine hand confess,

My tongue broke out in unknown strains,

And sung surprising grace.

III.

"Great is the work, my neighbours cry'd,

"And own'd the power divine:

"Great is the work," my heart reply'd,

"And be the glory thine."

IV

The Lord can change the darkest skies,

Can give us day for night,

Make floods of sacred sorrow rise

To rivers of delight.

V.

Let those that sow in sadness, wait,

Till the fair harvest come:

They shall confess their sheaves are great,

And shout the blessings home.

§. 44. I have been so happy as to get the sight of five original letters, which he wrote to his mother about this time; which do, in a very lively manner, illustrate the surprising change made in the whole current of his thoughts, and temper of his mind. Many of them were written in the most hasty manner, just as the courier who brought them was, perhaps unexpectedly, setting out; and they relate chiefly to affairs in which the public is not at all concerned: Yet there is not one of them, in which he has not inserted some warm and genuine sentiment of religion. And indeed it is very remarkable, that though he was pleased to honor me with a great many letters, and I have seen several more which he wrote to others, some of them on journeys, where he could have but a few minutes at command; yet I cannot recollect, that I ever saw any one, in which there was not some trace of piety. And the Rev. Mr. Webster, who was employed to review great numbers of them, that he might select such extracts as he should think proper to communicate to me, has made the same observation.*

[Page]§. 45. The major, with great justice, tells the good lady his mother, ‘that when she saw him again, she would find the person indeed the same, but every thing else entirely changed’ And she might easily have perceived it of herself by the whole tenor of these letters, which every where breathe the unaffected spirit of a true christian. They are taken up, sometimes with giving advice and directions concerning some pious and charitable contributions; (one of which I remember amounted to ten guineas, though, as he was then out of commission, and had not formerly been very frugal, it cannot be supposed he had much to spare;) sometimes in speaking of the pleasure, with which he attended sermons, and expected sacramental opportunities; and at other times, in exhorting her, established as she was in religion to labour after a yet more examplary character and conduct, or in recommending her to the divine presence and blessing, as well as himself to her prayers. What satisfaction such letters as these must give to a lady of her distinguished piety, who had so long wept over this dear and amiable son, as quite lost to God, and on the verge of final destruction, it is not for me to describe, or indeed to conceive. But hastily as these letters were written, only for private view, I will give a few specimens from them in his own words; which will serve to illustrate, as well as confirm what I have hinted above

§. 46. "I must take the liberty," says he, in a letter dated on the first day of the new year, or according to the Old Style, December 21, 1719, ‘to intreat you that you would receive no company on the Lord's day. I know, you have a great many good acquaintance, with whose discourses one might be very well edified: But as you cannot keep out, and let in, whom you please, the best way, in my humble opinion, will be to see none’ In another of Jan. 25 ‘I am happier than any one can imagine, except I could put him exactly in the same situation with [Page] myself; which is what the world cannot give, and no man ever attained it, unless it were from above.’ In another, dated March 30, which was just before a sacrament day, ‘To-morrow, if it please God, I shall be happy; my soul being to be fed with the bread of life, which came down from heaven. I shall be mindful of you all there.’ In another of Jan. 29, he thus expresses that indifference for worldly possessions, which he so remarkably carried through all the remainder of his life; ‘I know, the rich are only stewards for the poor, and must give an account of every penny; therefore the less I have, the more easy will it be to render a faithful account of it.’ And to add no more from these letters at present, in the conclusion of one of them he has these comprehensive and solemn words: ‘Now that He, who is the ease of the afflicted, the support of the weak, the wealth of the poor, the teacher of the ignorant, the anchor of the fearful, and the infinite reward of all faithful souls, may pour out upon you all his richest blessings, shall always be the prayer of him who is entirely your's, &c.’

§. 47. To this account of his correspondence with his excellent mother, I should be glad to add a large view of another, to which she introduced him, with that reverend and valuable person, under whose pastoral care she was placed, I mean, the justly celebrated Doctor Edmund Calamy, to whom she could not but early communicate the joyful news of her son's conversion. I am not so happy as to be possessed of the letters, which passed between them, which I have reason to believe would make a curious and valuable collection: But I have had the pleasure of receiving from my worthy and amiable friend, the Rev. Mr. Edmund Calamy, one of the letters which the Doctor his father wrote to the major on this wonderful occasion. I perceive by the contents of it, that it was the first; and indeed it is dated as early as the third of August, 1719, which must be but a few days after his own account, dated Aug. 4. N. S. could r [...]ch England. There is so much true religion and good sense in this paper, and the counsel it suggests may be so seasonable to other persons in circumstances which bear any resemblance to his, that I make no apology to my reader for inserting a large extract from it.

[Page]§. 48. ‘Dear Sir,—I conceive it will not much surprize you to understand, that your good mother communicated to me your letter to her, dated Aug. 4. N. S. which brought her the news you conceive would be so acceptable to her. I, who have often been a witness to her concern for you on a spiritual account, can attest with what joy this news was received by her, and imp [...]rted to me as a special friend, who she knew would bear a part with her on such an occasion. And indeed, if (as our [...]aviour intimates, Luke xv. 7, 10.) there is in such cases joy in heaven, and among the angels of God, it may well be supposed, that of a pious mother, who has spent so many prayers and tears upon you, and has as it were travailed in birth with you again, till Christ was formed in you, could not be small. You may believe me if I add, that I also, as a common friend of her's and your's, and which is much more of the Prince of Light, whom you now declare you heartily fall in with, in opposition to that of the dark kingdom, could not but be tenderly affected with an account of it under your own hand. My joy on this account was the greater, considering the importance of your capacity, interests, and prospects; which, in such an age as this, may promise most happy consequences, o [...] your heartily appearing on God's side, and embarking in the interest of our dear Redeemer. If I have hitherto at all remembered you at the throne of grace, at your good mother's desire, (which you are pleased to take notice of with so much respect,) I can assure you I shall hence-forward be led to do it, with more concern and particularity, both by duty and inclination. And if I were capable of giving you any little assistance in the noble design you are engaging in, by corresponding with you by letter, while you are at such a distance, I should do it most chearfully. And perhaps, such a motion may not be altogether unacceptable: For I am inclinable to believe, that when some, whom you are obliged to converse with, observe your behaviour so different from what it formerly was, and banter you upon it as mad and fanciful, it may be some little relief to correspond with one, who will take a pleasure in heartening and encouraging you. And when a great many things frequently offer, in which conscience may be concerned, where duty may not always [Page] be plain, nor suitable persons to advise with at hand, it may be some satisfaction to you to correspond with one, with whom you may use a friendly freedom in all such matters, and on whose fidelity you may depend. You may therefore command me in any of these respects, and I shall take a pleasure in serving you. One piece of advice I shall venture to give you, though your own good sense will make my enlarging upon it less needful; I mean that you would, from your first setting▪ out carefully distinguish between the essentials of real religion, and those things which are commonly reckoned by its professors to belong so it. The want of this distinction has had very unhappy consequences from one age to another, and perhaps in none more than the present. But your daily converse with your bible, which you mention, may herein give you great assistance, I move also, that since infidelity so much abounds, you would not only, by close and serious consideration, endeavour to settle yourself well in the fundamental principles of religion, but also that, as opportunity offers, you would converse with those books which treat most judiciously on the divine original of christianity, such as Grotius, Abadie, Baxter, Bates, Du Plessis, &c. which may establish you against the cavils that occur in almost all conversations, and furnish you with arguments which, when properly offered, may be of use to make some impressions on others. But being too much straitened to enlarge at present, I can only add, that if your hearty falling in with serious religion should prove any hindrance to your advancement in the world, (which I pray God it may not, unless such advancement would be a real snare to you,) I hope you wil [...] trust our Saviour's word, that it shall be no disadvantage to you in the final issue: He has given you his word for it, Matt. xix. 29. upon which you may safely depend; and I am satisfied, none that ever did so at last repented of it. May you go on and prosper, and the God of all grace and peace be with you!’

§. 49. I think it very evident from the contents of this letter, that the major had not imparted to his mother the most singular circumstances attending his conversion: And indeed there was something so peculiar in them, that I do not wonder, he was always cautious in speaking of them, [Page] and especially, that he was at first much on the reserve. We may also naturally reflect, that there seems to have been something very providential in this letter, considering the debate in which our illustrious convert was so soon engaged. For it was written but about three weeks, before his conference with the lady above mentioned in the defence of christianity; or at least, before the appointment of it. And as some of the books recommended by Dr. Calamy, particularly Abadie and Du Plessis were undoubtedly within his reach, (if our English advocates were not) this might, by the divine blessing contribute considerably towards arming him for that combat, in which he came off with such happy success. And as in this instance, so in many others, they who will observe the coincidence and concurrence of things, may be engaged to adore the wise conduct of providence in events, which, when taken singly and by themselves, have nothing very remarkable in them.

§. 50. I think it was about this time, that this resolute and examplary christian entered upon that methodical manner of living, which be pursued through so many succeeding years of life, and I believe, generally, so far as the broken state of his health would allow it in his latter days, to the very end of it. He used constantly to rise at four in the morning, and to spend his time till six in the secret exercises of devotion, reading, meditation, and prayer; in which last he contracted such a fervency of spirit, as I believe few men living ever obtained. This certainly tended very much to strengthen that firm faith in God, and reverend animating sense of his presence, for which he was so eminently remarkable, and which carried him through the trials and services of life, with such steadiness, and with such activity; for he indeed endured, and acted, as always seeing him who is invisible. If at any time he was obliged to go out before six in the morning, he rose proportionably sooner; so that when a journey, or a march, has required him to be on horse back by four, he would be at his devotions at farthest by two. He likewise secured time for retirement in an evening; and that he might have it the more at command, and be the more fit to use it properly as well as the better able to rise early the next morning, he generally went to bed about ten: And, during the time I was [Page] acquainted with him, he seldom at any supper, but a mouthful of bread with one glass of wine. In consequence of this, as well as of his admirably good constitution, and the long habit he had formed, he required less sleep than most persons I have known: And I doubt not, but his uncommon progress in piety was in a great measure owing to these resolute habits of self-denial.

§. 51. A life any thing like this, could not, to be sure, be entered upon, in the midst of such company as he had been accustomed to keep, without great opposition: Especially, as he did not entirely withdraw himself from all the circle of chearful conversation; but on the contrary, gave several hours every day to it, lest religion should be reproached, as having made him morose. He however early began a practice, which to the last day of his life he retained, of reproving vice and profaneness; and was never afraid to debate the matter with any, under the consciousness of such superiority in the goodness of his cause.

§. 52. A remarkable instance of this happened, if I mistake not, about the middle of the year 1720, though I cannot be very exact as to the date of the story. It was however on his first return, to make any considerable abode in England, after this remarkable change. He had heard, on the other side of the water, that it was currently reported among his companions at home, that he was stark mad: A report, at which no reader, who knows the wisdom of the world in these matters, will be much surprized, any more than himself. He concluded therefore, that he should have many battles to fight, and was willing to dispatch the business as fast as he could. And therefore, being to spend a few days at the country house of a person of distinguished rank, with whom he had been very intimate, (whose name I do not remember that he told me, nor did I think it proper to enquire after it,) he begged the favour of him that he would contrive matters so, that a day or two after he came down, several of their former gay companions might meet at his lordship's table▪ that he might have an apportunity of making his apology to them, and acquainting them with the nature and reasons of his change. It was accordingly agreed to; and a pretty large company met on the da [...] appointed, with previous notice that major Gardiner would be there. A good deal of raillery passed at dinner, to which [Page] the major made very little answer. But when the cloth was taken away, and the servants retired, he begged their patience for a few minutes, and then plainly and seriously told them, what notions he entertained of virtue and religion, and on what considerations he had absolutely determined that by the grace of God he would make it the care and business of life, whatever he might lose by it, and whatever censure and contempt he might incur. He well knew how improper it was in such company, to relate the extraordinary manner in which he was awakened; which they would probably have interpreted as a demonstration of lunacy, against all the gravity and solidity of his discourse: But he contented himself with such a rational defence of a righteous, sober, and godly life, as he knew none of them could with any shadow of reason contest. He then challenged them to propose any thing they could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion and debauchery was preferable to the fear, love, and worship of the eternal God, and a conduct agreeable to the precepts of his gospel. And he sailed not to bear his testimony from his own experience, (to one part of which many of them had been witnesses) that after having run the widest round of sensual pleasure, with all the advantages the best constitution and spirits could give him, he had never tasted any thing that deserved to be called happiness, till he had made religion his refuge and his delight. He testified calmly and boldly, the habitual serenity and peace that he now felt in his own breast, (for the most elevated delights he did not think fit to plead, least they should be esteemed enthusiasm,) and the composure and pleasure with which he looked forward to objects, which the gayest sinner must acknowledge to be equally unavoidable and dreadful.

§. 53. I know not what might be attempted by some of the company in answer to this; but I well remember he told me, the master of the table, a person of a very frank and candid disposition, cut short the debate, and said, ‘Come, let us call another cause: We thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest proving that we are so.’ On the whole, this well judged circumstance saved him a great deal of future trouble. When his former acquaintance observed, that he was still conversable and innocently chearful, and that he was immoveable in his resolutions, they desisted from farther importunity. And he has assured me that [Page] instead of losing any one valuable friend by this change in his character, he found himself much more esteemed and regarded, by many who could not persuade themselves to imitate his example.

§. 54. I have not any memoirs of Colonel Gardiner's life, or of any other remarkable event befalling him in it, from the time of his return to England, ti [...]l his marriage in the year 1726; except the extracts which have been sent me from some letters, which he wrote to his religious friends during this interval, and which I cannot pass by without a more particular notice. It may be recollected, that in consequence of the reduction of that regiment of which he was major, he was out of commission from Nov. the 10th, 1718, till June the 1st, 1724: And after he returned from Paris, I find all his letters during this period dated from London, where he continued, in communion with the christian society under the pastoral care of Doctor Calamy. As his good mother also belonged to the same, it is easy to imagine, it must be an unspeakable pleasure to her, to have such frequent opportunities of conversing with such a son, of observing in his daily conduct and discourses the blessed effects of that change which divine grace had made in his heart, and of sitting down with him monthly at that sacred feast, where christians so frequently enjoy the d [...]vinest entertainments which they expect on this side heaven. I the rather mention this ordinance, because as this excellent lady had a very high esteem for it, so she had an opportunity of attending it, but the very Lords' day immediately preceding her death, which happened on Thursday, Oct. 7, 1725, after her son had been removed from her almost one year. He had maintained her handsomely out of that very moderate income, on which he subsisted since his regiment had been disbanded; and when she expressed her gratitude to him for it, he assured her, (I think, in one of the last letters she ever received from him,) ‘that he esteemed it a great honour, that God put it into his power, to make what he called, a very small acknowledgement of all her care fo [...] him, and especially of the many prayers she had offered on his account, which had already been remarkably answered, and the benefit of which he hoped ever to enjoy.’

§. 55. I apprehend, that the Earl of Stair's regiment [...] to the majority of which he was promoted on the 20th o [...] [Page] July, 1724, was then quartered in Scotland; for all the letters in my hand from that time to the 6th of February, 1726. are dated from thence, and particularly from Douglas. Stranrawen, Hamilton, and Air [...]. But I have the pleasure to find, from comparing these with others of an earlier date from London a [...]d the neighbouring parts, that neither the detriment which he must suffer by being so long out of commission, nor the hurry of affairs while charged with it, could prevent or interrupt that intercourse with heaven, which was his daily feast, and his daily strength.

§. 56. These were most eminently the happy years of his life: for he had learned to estimate his happiness not by the increase of honour, or the p [...]ssession of wealth, or by what was much dearer to his generous heart than either the converse of the dearest and worthiest human friends; but by nearness to God, and by opportunities of humble converse with him in the lively exercise of contemplation, praise, and prayer. Now there was no period of his life, in which he was more eminently favoured with these; nor do I find any of his letters so overflowing with transports of holy joy, as those which were dated during this time. There are indeed in some of them, such very sublime passages, that I have been d [...]bious, whether I should communicate them to the public, or not; l [...]st I should administer matter of profane ridicule to some, who look upon all the elevations of devotion as a contemptible enthusiasm And it has also given me some apprehensions, lest it should discourage some pious Christians, who after having spent several years in the service of God and in humble obedience to the precepts of his gospel, may not have attained to any such heights as these. But on the whole, I cannot satisfy myself to suppress them; not only as I number some of them considered in a devotional view, among the most extraordinary pieces of the kind I have ever met with; but as some of the most excellent and judicious persons I any where know, to whom I have read them, have assured me [...] that they felt their hearts in an unusual manner impressed, quickened and edified by them.

§ 57. I will therefore draw back the veil and shew my much honoured friend in his most secret rec [...]sses; that the world may see, what those springs were, from whence issued that clear, permanent, and living stream of wisdom, piety, and virtue, which so apparently ran through all that part of [Page] his life which was open to public observation. It is not to be imagined, that letters written in the intimacy of Christian friendship some of them with the most apparent marks of haste, and amidst a variety of important public cares, should be adorned with any studied elegance of expression, about which the greatness, of his soul, would not allow him to be at any time very [...]olicitous; for he generally (so far as I could observe) wrote as [...] as his pen could move, which happily both for him and his many friends, was very freely. Yet here the grandeur of his subject his sometimes clothed his ideas with a language more elevated, than is ordinarily to be expected in an epistolary correspondence. The proud scorners, who may deride sentiments and enjoyments like those which this truly great man so experimentally and pathetically describes. I pity from my heart; and grieve to think, how unfit they must be for the hallelujahs of heaven, who pour contempt upon the nearest approaches to them: Nor shall I think it any misfortune, to share with so excellent a person in their profane derision. It will be infinitely more than an equivalent for all that such ignorance and petulancy can think and say, if I may convince some who are as yet strangers to religion, how real, and how noble, its delights are; if I may engage my pious readers, to glorify God for so illustrious an instance of his grace; and finally, if I may quicken them, and above all may rouse my own to [...] indolent spirit, to follow with less unequal steps an example, to the sublimity of which, I fear few of us shall after all be able fully to attain. And that we may not be too much discouraged under the deficiency, let it be recollected, that few have the advantage of a temper naturally so warm; few have an equal command of retirement; and perhaps hardly any one, who thinks himself most indebted to the riches and freedom of divine grace, can trace interpositions of it, in all respects equally astonishing.

§. 58. The first of these extraordinary letters which have fallen into my hand, is dated near three years after his conversion, and addressed to a lady of quality. I believe it i [...] the first the Major ever wrote, so immediately on the subject of his religious consolations and converse with God i [...] devout retirement. For I well remember, that he once told me, he was so much afraid that something of spiritual pride should mingle itself with the relation of such kind of experiences, [Page] that he concealed them a long time: but observing with how much freedom the sacred writers open all the most secret recesses of their hearts, especially in the Psalms, his conscience began to be burthened, under an apprehension, that, for the honor of God, and in order to engage the concurrent praises of some of his people, he ought to disclose them. On this he set himself to reflect, who among all his numerous acquaintance seemed at once the most experienced christian he knew, (to whom therefore such things as he had to communicate might appear solid and credible,) and who the humblest. He quickly thought of the lady Marchioness of Douglas, in this view: And the reader may well imagine, that it struck my mind very strongly, to think that now, more than twenty four years after it was written, Providence should bring to my hand, (as it has done within these few days,) what I assuredly believe to be a genuine copy of that very letter; which I had not the least reason to expect I should ever have seen, when I learnt from his own mouth, amidst the freedom of an accidental conversation, the occasion and circumstances of it.

§. 59. It is dated from London, July 21. 1722, and the very first lines of it relate to a remarkable circumstance, which from others of his letters I find to have happened several times. I mean, that when he had received from any of his christian friends a few lines which particularly affected his heart, he could not stay till the stated return of his devotional hour, but immediately retired to pray for them, and to give vent to those religious emotions of mind which such a correspondence raised. How invaluable was such a friend? And how great reason have those of us, who once possessed a large share in his heart, and in those retired and sacred moments, to bless God for so singular a felicity; and to comfort ourselves in a pleasing hope, that we may yet reap future blessings, as the harvest of those petitions which he can no more repeat.

§. 60. His words are these: ‘I was so happy as to receive yours just as I acc [...]ed and I had no sooner read it, but shut my door, and [...]ought him whom my soul loveth. I sought him, and found him; and would not let him go, till he had blessed us all. It is impossible to find words, to express what I obtained; but I suppose, it was something like that which the disciples got, as they were going [Page] to Emmaus, when they said, did not our hearts burn within us, &c or rather like what Paul felt, when he could not tell, whether he was in the body, or out of it.’ He then mentions his dread of sp [...]ritual pride, from which he earnestly prays that God may deliver and preserve him. "This," says he, ‘would have hindered me from communicating these things, if I had not such an example before me, as the man after God's own heart, saying, I will declare what God hath done for my soul; and elsewhere, the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad: now I am well satisfied, that your ladyship is of that number.’ He then adds, "I had no sooner finished this exercise," that is, of prayer abovementioned, ‘but I sat down to admire the goodness of my God, that he would vouchsafe to influence by his free Spirit so undeserving a wretch as I, and to make me thus to mount up with eagles wings. And here I was lost again, and got into an ocean, where I could neither find bound nor bottom; but was obliged to cry out with the apostle, Oh the breadth, the length, the depth, the height, of the love of Christ which passeth knowledge! But if I give way to this strain, I shall never have done. That the God of hope may fill you with all joy and peace in believing that you may abound in hope through the power of the Holy Ghost, shall always be the prayer of him, who is, with the greatest sincerity and respect, your ladyship's &c.’

§. 61. Another passage to the same purpose I find in a memorandum, which he seems to have written for his own use, dated Monday, March 11, which I perceive from many concurrent circumstances, must have been in the year 1722-3. "This day," says he, ‘having been to visit Mrs. G. at Hampstead, I came home about two, and read a sermon on those words, Psal. cxxx. 4. But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayest be feared: About the latter end of which, there is a description of the miserable condition of those that are sl [...]ghters of pardoning grace. From a sense of the great obligations I lay under to the almighty God, who hath made me to d [...]ffer from such, from what I was, and from the rest of my companions, I knelt down to praise his holy name; and I know not, that in my life time I ever lay lower in the dust, never having had a fuller view of my own unworthiness. I never pleaded [Page] more strongly the merits and intercession of him, who I know is worthy; never vowed more sincerely to be the Lord's, and to accept of Christ as he is offered in the gospel, as my king, priest, and prophet; never had so strong a desire to depart, that I might sin no more; but —my grace is sufficient—curbed that desire. I never pleaded with greater fervency for the Comforter, which, our blessed Lord hath promised, shall abide with us for ever For all which I desire to ascribe glory, &c. to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb.’

§ 62. There are several others of his papers, which speak much the same language; which, had he kept a diary, would (I doubt not) have filled many sheets. I believe, my devout readers would not soon be weary of reading extracts of this kind: But that I may not exceed in this part of my narrative. I shall mention only two more, each of them dated some years after; that is, one from Douglas, April 1, 1725; and the other from Stranrawen, the 25th of May following.

§. 63. The former of these relates to the frame of his spirit on a journey. On the mention of which I cannot but recollect, how often I have heard him say, that some of the most delightful days of his life were days in which he travelled alone, (that is, with only a servant at a distance;) when he could, especially in roads not much frequented, indulge himself in the pleasures of prayer and praise. In the exercise of which last, he was greatly assisted by several psalms and hymns, which he had treasured up in his memory, and which he used not only to repeat aloud, but sometimes to sing In reference to this I remember the following passage, in a letter which he wrote to me many years after, when on mentioning my ever dear and honored friend the Rev. Dr Watts, he says, "How often in singing some of his psalms hym [...]s, or lyricks, on horse-back, and elsewhere, has the evil spirit been made to flee;

"When e [...]er my heart in tune was found,

"Like David's harp of solemn sound!"

§. 64. Such was the first of April above mentioned, in the evening of which he writes thus to an intimate friend: ‘What would I have given this day upon the road, for paper, pen, and ink, when the Spirit of the most High [Page] rested upon me? Oh for the pen of a ready writer, and the tongue of an angel, to declare what God hath done this day for my soul! But in [...]o [...]t, it is in vain [...]o attempt it: All that I am able to say, is only this, that my soul has been for some hours joining with the blessed spirits above, in giving glory, and honor, and praise unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever. My praises began from a renewed view of Him, whom I saw pierced for my transgressions. I summoned the whole hierarchy of heaven to join with me; and I am persuaded, they all echoed back praise to the most High. Yes, one would have thought, the very lar [...]s joined me with emulation. Sure then I need not make [...] of many words, to persuade you that are his sai [...], [...] join me in blessing and praising his holy name,’ [...] co [...]cludes, ‘May the blessing of the God of Jacob rest upon you all! Adieu. Written in great haste, late and weary.’

§ 65. Scarce can I here refrain from breaking out into nor [...] copious reflections on the exquisite pleasures of true [...]ligion, when risen to such eminent degrees; which can [...]hus feast the soul in his solitude, and refresh it on journeys; [...]nd bring down so much of heaven to earth, as this delightful letter expresses. But the remark is so obvious, that I will not enlarge upon it; but proceed to the other letter above mentioned, which was written the next month, on the Tuesday after a sacrament day.

§. 66. He mentions the pleasure with which he had attended a preparation sermon the Saturday before; and then he adds, ‘I took a walk upon the mountains that are over against Ireland; and I persuade myself, that were I capable of giving you a description of what passed there, you [...] would agree, that I had much better reason to remember my God from the hills of Port Patrick, than David from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.’ I suppose, he means, in reference to the clearer discoveries of the gospel with which we are favored. "In short," says he immediately afterwards, in that scripture phrase which was become so familiar to him, ‘I wrestled some hours with the Angel of the co [...]nant, and made supplications to him with floods of tears [...]nd cries,— until I had almost expired: But he strengthened me so, [Page] that like Jacob, I had power with God, and prevailed. Th [...]," [...]ds he, "is but a very saint description: You will be [...] to judge of it, by what you have felt yourself [...] the like occasions. After such prepa [...] [...] work I [...] tell you, how blessed the solemn ordinance of the Lord's supper proved to me; I hope, it was so to many. You may believe, I should have been exceeding glad, if my gracious Lord had ordered it so, that I might have made you a visit, as I proposed: But I am now glad it was ordered otherwise, since he hath caused so much of his goodness to pass before me. Were I to give you an account of the many favors my God hath loaded me with since I parted from you, I must have taken up many days in nothing but writing. I hope, you will join with me in praises for all the goodness he has shewn to your unworthy brother in the Lord.’

§. 67. Such were the ardors and elevations of his soul: But while I record these memorials of them, I am very sensible, there are many who will be inclined to censure them, as the flights of enthusiasm; for which reason I must beg leave to add a remark or two on the occasion, which will be illustrated by several other extracts, which I shall introduce into the sequel of these memoirs. The one is, that he never pretends, in any of the passages cited above, or elsewhere, to have received any immediate revelations from God, which should raise him above the ordinary methods of instruction, or discover any thing to him, whether of doctrines or facts. No man was farther from pretending to predict future events, except it were from the moral prognostications of causes naturally tending to produce them; in tracing of which he had indeed an admirable sagacity, as I have seen in some very remarkable instances. Neither was he at all inclinable to govern himself by secret impu [...]ses upon his mind, leading him to things for which he could assign no reason but the impulse itself. Had he ventured, in a presumption on such secret agitations of mind, to teach, or to do any thing, not warranted by the dictates of found sense and the word of God, I should readily have acknowledged him an enthusiast; unless he could have produced some other evidence than his own persuasion, to have supported the authority of them. But these ardent expressions, which some may call enthusiasm, seem only to evidence a heart deeply affected with a [Page] sense of the divine presence and perfections, and of that love which passeth knowledge; especially as [...] [...]r redemption by the Son of God, which did indeed inflame his whole soul. And he thought, he might reasonably ascribe these stro [...]g impressions, to which men are generally such strangers, and of which he had long been entirely destitute to the agency or influence of the Spirit of God upon his heart; and that, in proportion to the degree in which he felt them he might properly say, God was present with him, and he conversed with God.* Now when we consider the scriptural phrases, of walking with God, of having communion with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ, of Christ's coming to them that open the door of their hearts to him, and supping with them, of God's shedding abroad his love in the heart by his Spirit, of his coming with J [...]sus Christ and making his abode with a [...]y man that loves him of his meeting him that worketh righteousness, of his making us glad by the light of his countenance, and a variety of other equivalent expressions; I believe, we shall see reason to judge much more favorably of such expressions as those now in question, than persons who are themselves strangers to elevated devotion, and perhaps converse but little with their bible, are inclined to do; especially if they have, as many such persons have, a temper that inclines them to cavil and find fault. And I must farther observe, that amidst all those [Page] freedoms, with which this eminent christian opens his devout heart to the most intimate of his friends, he still speaks with profound awe and reverence of his heavenly Father, and his Saviour, and maintains (after the example of the sacred writers themselves,) a kind of dignity in his expressions, suitable to such a subject; without any of that fond familiarity of language, and degrading meanness of phrase, by which it is, especially of late, grown fashionable among some, (who nevertheless I believe mean well,) to express their love and their humility.

§ 68. [...]n the whole; if habitual love to God, firm faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, a steady dependance on the divine promises, a full persuasion of the wisdom and goodness of all the dispensations of providence, a high esteem for the blessings of the heavenly world, and a sincere contempt for the varities of this, can properly be called enthusiasm; then was Colonel Gardiner indeed one of the greatest enthusiasts our age has produced; and in proportion to the degree in which he was so, I must esteem him one of the wisest and happiest of mankind. Nor do I fear to tell the world, that it is the design of my writing these memoirs, and of every thing else that I undertake in life, to spread this glorious and blessed enthusiasm; which I know to be the anticipation of heaven, as well as the most certain way to it.

§ 69. But lest any should possibly imagine, that allowing the experiences which have been described above, to have been ever so solid and important, yet there may be some appearance of boasting in so free a communication of them; I most add to what I have hinted in reference to this above, that I find in many of the papers before me very genuine expressions of the deepest humility and self-abasement; which indeed such holy converse with God in prayer and praise, does above all things in the world tend to inspire and promote. Thus in one of his letters he says, ‘I am but as a beast before him:’ In another he calls himself "a miserable hell deserving sinner:" And in another he cries out, ‘Oh how good a master do I serve; but alas, how ungrateful and I! What can be so astonishing, as the love of Christ to us, unless it be the coldness of our sinful hearts towards such a Saviour?’ With many other clauses of the like nature, which I shall not se [...] myself more particularly [Page] to trace, through the variety of letters in which they occur.

§. 70. It is a farther instance of this unfeigned humility, that when (as his lady with her usual propriety of language expresses it, in one of her letters to me concerning him,) ‘these divine joys and consolations were not his daily allowance,’ he with equal freedom, in the confidence of christian friendship, acknowledges and laments it. Thus in the first letter I had the honour of receiving from him, dated from Leicester, July 9 1739, when he had been mentioning the blessing with which it had pleased God to attend my last address to him, and the influence it had upon his mind, he adds, ‘Much do I stand in need of every help, to awaken me out of that spiritual deadness, which seizes me so often. Once indeed it was quite otherwise with me, and that for many years:’

"Firm was my health, my day was bright,

"And I presum'd 'twould ne'er be night:

"Fondly I said within my heart,

"Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart.

"But I forgot, thine arm was strong,

"Which made my mountain stand so long:

"Soon as thy face began to hide,

"My health was gone, my comforts dy'd.

"And here," adds he, "lies my sin, and my folly."

§. 71. I mention this, that the whole matter may be seen just as it was, and that other christians may not be discouraged, if they feel some abatement of that servor, and of those holy joys, which they have experienced during some of the first months or years of their spiritual life. But with relation to the Colonel, I have great reason to believe, that these which he laments as his days of spiritual deadness were not unanimated; and that quickly after the date of this letter, and especially, nearer the close of his life, he had farther revivings, as the joyful anticipation of those better things in reserve, which were the [...] nearly approaching. And thus Mr. Spears, in the letter I mentioned above, tells us he related the matter to him; (for he studies as much as possible to retain the Colonel's own words.) ‘However, says he, after that happy period of sensible [Page] communion, though my joys and enlargements were not so overflowing and sensible, yet I have had habitual real communion with God from that day to this;’ the latter end of the year 1743; ‘and I know myself, and all that know me see, that through the grace of God, to which I ascribe all, my conversation has been becoming the gospel: and let me die, whenever it shall please God, or wherever it shall be, I am sure, I shall go to the mansions of eternal glory, &c.’ And this is perfectly agreeable to the manner in which he used to speak to me on this head, which we have talked over frequently and largely.

§ 72. In this connection I hope my reader will forgive my inserting a little story, which I received from a very worthy minister in Scotland, and which I shall give in his own words. "In this period," meaning that which followed the first seven years after his conversion, ‘when his complaint of comparative deadness and languor in religion began, he had a dream; which, though he had no turn at all for taking notice of dreams, yet made a very strong impression upon his mind, He imagined, that he saw his blessed Redeemer on earth, and that he was following him through a large field, following him whom his soul loved but much troubled, because he thought his blessed Lord did not speak to him; till he came up to the gate of a burying-place, when turning about he smiled upon him, in such a manner as filled his soul with the most ravishing joy; and on after reflection animated his faith, in believing that whatever storms and darkness he might meet with in the way, at the hour of death his glorious Redeemer would lift upon him the light of his life-giving countenance.’ My correspondent adds a circumstance, for which he make some apology, as what may seem whimsical, and yet made some impression on himself; ‘that there was a remarkable resemblance in the field in which this brave man met death, and that he had represented to him in the dream.’ I did not fully understand this at first; but a passage in that letter from Mr. Spears, which I have mentioned more than once, has cleared it. ‘Now observe, Sir, this seems to be a literal description of the place, where this christian hero ended his sorrows, and conflicts, and from which he entered triumphantly into the joy of his Lord. For after he fell in the battle, [Page] fighting gloriously for his king and the cause of his God, his wounded body, while life was yet remaining, was carried from the field of bat [...]le by the east side of his own inclosure, till he came to the church yard of Tranent, and was brought to the minister's house; where he soon after breathed out his soul into the hands of his Lord, and was conducted to his presence, where there is fulness of joy, without any cloud of interruption for ever.’

§. 73. I well know, that in dreams there are diverse vanities, and readily acknowledge, that nothing certain could be inferred from this: Yet it seems at least to shew, which way the imagination was working even in sleep; and I cannot think it unworthy o [...] a wise and good man, sometimes to reflect with complacency on any images, which passing through his mind even in that state, may tend either to express, or to quicken, his love to the great Saviour. Those eminently pious divines of the church of England, bishop Bull, and bishop Ken, do both intimate it as their opinion, that it may be a part of the service of ministering angels to suggest devout dreams:* And I know, that the worthy person of whom I speak, was well acquainted with that evening hymn of the latter of those excellent writers, which has these lines:

"Lord, lest the tempter me surprize,

"Watch over thine own sacrifice!

"All loose, all idle thoughts cast out;

"And make my very dreams devout!"

Nor would it be difficult to produce other passages much to the same purpose,† if it would not be deemed too great a digression [Page] from our subject, and too laboured a vindication of a little incident, of very small importance, when compared with most of those which make up this narrative.

§. 74. I meet not with any other remarkable event relating to Major Gardiner, which can properly be introduced here, till the year 1726; when, on the 11th day of July, he was married to the right hon [...] the lady Frances Erskine, daughter to the late Earl of Buchan, by whom he had thirteen children, five only of which survived their father, two sons, and three daughters: whom I cannot mention without the most fervent prayers to God for them, that they may always behave worthy the honour of being descended from such parents; and that the God of their father, and of their mother, may make them perpetually the care of his providence, and yet more eminently happy in the constant and abundant influences of his grace!

§. 75. As her ladyship is still living, (and for the sake of her dear offspring, and numerous friends, may she long be spared!) I shall not here indulge myself in saying any thing of her; except it be, that the Colonel assured me, when he had been happy in this intimate relation to her more than fourteen years; that the greatest imperfection he knew in her character was, ‘that she valued and loved him much m [...]re than he deserved.’ And little did he think, in the simplicity of heart with which he spoke this how high an encomium he was making upon her, and how lasting an honor such a testimony must leave upon her name, long as the memory of it shall continue.

§. 76. As I do not intend in these memoirs a laboured essay on the character of Colonel Gardiner, digested under the various virtues and graces which christianity requires, (which would, I think, be a little too formal for a work of this kind, and would give it such an air of panegyrick, as would neither suit my design, nor be at all likely to render [Page] it more useful;) I shall now mention what I have either observed in him, or heard concerning him, with regard to those domestic relations, which commenced about this time, or quickly after. And here my reader will easily conclude, that the resolution of Joshua was from the first adopted and declared, ‘As for me, and my house, we will serve the Lord.’ It will naturally be supposed, that as soon as he had a house, he erected an altar in it; that the word of God was read there, and prayers and praises were constantly offered. These were not to be omitted, on account of any guest; for he esteemed it a part of due respect to those that remained under his roof, to take it for granted, they would look upon it as a very bad compliment, to imagine they would have been obliged, by neglecting the duties of religion on their account. As his family increased, he had a minister statedly resident in his house, who both discharged the office of a tutor to his children, and of a chaplain; and who was always treated with a becoming kindness and respect. But in his absence, the Colonel himself led the devotions of the family; and they were happy, who had a [...] opportunity of knowing, with how much solemnity, fervor▪ and propriety, he did it.

§. 77. He was constant in attending upon public worship, in which an exemplary care was taken, that the children and servants might accompany the heads of the family. And how he would have resented the non attendance of any member of it, may easily be conjectured, from a free, but lively passage, in a letter to one of his intimate friends, o [...] an occasion which it is not material to mention. ‘Oh, Sir, had a child of yours under my roof but once neglected the public worship of God, when he was able to attend it, I should have been ready to conclude he had been distracted; and should have thought of shaving hi [...] head, and confining him in a dark room.’

§. 78. He always treated his lady with a manly tendernes [...] giving her the most natural evidences of a cordial habitual [...] steem, and expressing a most affectionate sympathy wit [...] her, under the infirmities of a very delicate constitution much broken, at least towards the latter years of their marriage, in consequence of so frequent pregnancy. He had [...] all times a most faithful care of all her interests, and especially those relating to the state of religion in her min [...] [Page] His conversation and his letters, concurred to cherish those sublime ideas, which christianity suggests; to promote our submission to the will of God, to teach us to center our happiness in the great Author of our being, and to live by faith in the invisible world. These, no doubt, were frequently the subjects of mutual discourse: And many letters, which her ladyship has had the goodness to communicate to me, are most convincing evidences of the degree in which this noble and most friendly care filled his mind in the days of their separation; days, which so entire a mutual affection must have rendered exceeding painful, had they not been supported by such exalted sentiments of piety, and sweetened by daily communion with an ever present and ever gracious God.

§. 79. The necessity of being so many months together distant from his family, hindered him from many of those condescending labours in cultivating the minds of his children in early life, which to a soul so benevolent, so wise, and so zealous, would undoubtedly have afforded a very exquisite pleasure. The care of his worthy consort, who well knew, that it is one of the brightest parts of a mother's character, and one of the most important views in which the sex can be considered, made him the easier under such a circumstance: But when he was with them, he failed not to instruct and admonish them; and the constant deep sense with which he spoke of divine things, and the real unaffected indifference which he always shewed for what this vain world is most ready to admire, were excellent lessons of daily wisdom, which I hope they will recollect with advantage in every future scene of life. And I have seen such hints in his letters relating to them, as plainly shew with how great a weight they lay on his mind, and how highly he desired above all things that they might be the faithful disciples of Christ, and acquainted betimes with the unequalled pleasures and blessings of religion. He thought an excess of delicacy, and of indulgence, one of the most dangerous faults in education, by which he every where saw great numbers of young people undone: Yet he was solicitous to guard against a severity, which might terrify or discourage; and though he endeavoured to take all prudent precautions to prevent the commission of faults, yet when they had been committed, and there seemed to be a sense of them, he was always [Page] ready to make the most candid allowances for the thoughtlessness of unripened years, and tenderly to cherish every purpose of a more proper conduct for the time to come.

§. 80. It was easy to perceive, that the openings of genius in the young branches of his family gave him great delight, and that he had a secret ambition to see them excel in what they undertook Yet he was greatly cautiou [...] over his heart, lest it should be too fo [...]dly attached to them; and as he was one of the most eminent proficients I ever knew, in the blessed science of resignation to the divine will, so there was no effect of that resignation which appeared to me more admirable, than what related to the life of his children. An experience, which no length of time will ever off [...] out of my memory, has so s [...]nsibly taught me, how [...]fficult it is fully to support the christian character here, that I hope my reader will pardon me, (I am sure at least the be [...]r of wounded parents will,) if I dwell a little longer upon [...] [...] teresting a subject.

§ 81. When he was in Herefordshire, in the m [...]nth [...] July, in the year 1734, it pleased God to visit his little family with the small-pox. Five days before the date of the letter I am just going to mention, he had received the agreeble news, that there was a prospect of the recovery of his son, then under that awful visitation; and he had been expressing his thankfulness for it, in a letter which he had sent away but a few hours before he was informed of his death; the surprize of which in this connection, must naturally be very great, But behold (says the reverend and worthy person from whom I received the copy, his truly filial submission to the will of his heavenly Father, in the following lines addressed to the dear partner of his affliction: ‘Your resignation to the will of God under this dispensation, gives me more joy, than the death of the child has given me sorrow. He, to be sure, is happy; and we shall go to him, though he shall not return to us. Oh that we had our latter end always in view!—We shall soon follow; and oh what reason have we to long for that glorious day, when we shall get quit of this body of sin and death, under which we now groan, and which re [...] ders this life so wretched! I desire to bless God, that— [another of his children] is in so good a way: But I have [Page] resigned her. We must not choose for ourselves; and it is well we must not, for we should often make a very bad choice. And therefore [...] is our wisdom, as well as our duty, to leave all with a gracious God; who hath promised, that all things shall work together for good to those that love him: and he is faithful that hath promised, who will infallibly perform it, if our unbelief does not stand in the way.’

§. 82. The greatest trial of [...]is kind that he ever bore, was in the removal of his second son, who was one of the most amiable and promising children that has been known. The dear little creature was the darling of all that knew him, and promised very fair, so far as a child could be known by its doings, to have been a great ornament to the family, and blessing to the public. The suddenness of the stroke must, no doubt, render it the more painful [...] for this beloved child was snatched away by an illness, which seiged him but about fifteen hours before it carried him off. He lied in the month of October, 1733, at near six years old. Their friends were ready to fear, that his affectionate parents would be almost overwhelmed with such a loss: but the happy father had so [...]m a persuasion that God had received the dear little one to the felicities of the celestial world; and at the same time had so strong a sense of the divine goodness, in taking one of his children, and that too one who lay so near his heart, so early to himself; that the sorrows of nature were quite swallowed up in the sublime joy which these considerations administered. When he reflected, what human life is; how many its snares and temptations are; and how frequently children, who once promised very well are insensibly corrupted and at length undone; with Solomon he blessed the dead already dead more than the living who were yet alive, and felt an unspeakable pleasure, in looking after the lovely infant, as safely and delightfully lodged in the house of its heavenly Father. Yea he assured me, that his heart was at this time so entirely taken up with these views, that he was afraid, they who did not thoroughly know him, might suspect, that he was deficient in the natural affections of a parent; while thus borne above the anguish of them, by the views which faith administered to him, and which divine grace supported in his soul.

[Page]§. 83. So much did he, on one of the most trying occasions of life, manifest of the temper of a glorified saint; and to such happy purposes did he retain those lessons of submission to God, and acquiescence in him, which I remember he once inculcated in a letter he wrote to a lady of quality, under the apprehension of a breach in her family, with which Providence seemed to threaten her; which I am willing to insert here, though a little out of what might [...]e [...] its proper place, rather than entirely to omit it. It is dated from London, June 16, 1722, when speaking of the dangerous illness of a dear relative, he has these words: ‘When my mind runs hither,’ that is, to God, as its refuge and strong defence, (as the connection plainly determines it,) ‘I think I can bear any thing, the loss of all, the loss of hea [...]h, of relations on whom I depend, and whom I love, all that is dear to me, without repining or murmuring. When I think, that God orders, disposes, and manages all things, according to the counsel of his own will: when I think of the extent of his providence, that it reaches to the minutest things; then, though a useful friend or dear relative to be snatched-away by death, I recall myself, and check my thoughts with these considerations, is he not God, from everlasting, and to everlasting? And has he not promised to be a God to me? A God in all his attributes, a God in all his persons, a God in all his creatures, and providences? And shall I dare to say, What shall I do? Was he not the infinite cause of all I met with in the creatures? And were not they the finite effects of his infinite love and kindness? I have daily experienced, that the instrument was, and is, what God makes it to be; and I know, that this God hath the hearts of all men in his hands, and the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof. If this earth be good for me. I shall have it; for my Father hath it all in possession. If favor in the eyes of men be good for me, I shall have it: for the spring of every motion in the heart of man is in God's hand. My dear — seems now to be dying; but God is all wise, and every thing is done by him for the best. Shall I hold back any thing that is his own, when he requires it? No, God forbid! When I consider the excellency of his glorious attributes, I am satisfied with all his dealings.’ I perceive by the introduction, [Page] and by what follows, that most, if not all of this, is a quotation from something written by a lady; but whether from some manuscript, or a printed book, whether exactly transcribed, or quoted from memory, I cannot determine: And therefore I thought proper to insert it, as the major (for that was the office he bore then,) by thus interweaving it with his letter makes it his own; and as it seems to express in a very lively manner the principles which bore him on, to a conduct so truly great and heroic, in circumstances that have overwhelmed many an heart, that could have faced danger and death with the greatest intrepidity.

§. 84. I return now to consider his character in the domestic relation of a master, on which I shall not enlarge. It is however proper to remark, that as his habitual meekness, and command of his passions, prevented indecent sallies of ungoverned anger towards those in the lowest state of subjection to him, (by which some in high life do strangely debase themselves, and lose much of their authority,) so the natural greatness of his mind made him solicitous to render their inferior stations as easy as he could; and so much the rather, because he considered all the children of Adam as standing upon a level before their great Creator, and had also a deeper sense of the dignity and worth of every immortal soul, how meanly soever it might chance to be lodged, than most persons I have known. This engaged him to give his servants frequent religious exhortations and instructions, as I have been assured by several who were so happy as to live with him under that character. One of the first letters after he entered on his christian course, expresses the same disposition; in which with great tenderness he recommends a servant, who was in a bad state of health, to his mother's care, as he was well acquainted with her condescending temper; mentioning at the same time the endeavors he had used, to promote his preparations for a better world, under an apprehension that he would not continue long in this And we shall have an affecting instance of the prevalency of the same disposition, in the closing scene of his life, and indeed in the last words he ever spoke, which expressed his generous solicitude for the safety of a faithful servant, who was then near him.

§. 84. As it was a few years after his marriage that he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, in which he [Page] continued till he had a regiment of his own; I shall for the future speak of him by that title; and may not perhaps find any more proper place, in which to mention, what it is proper for me to say of his behaviour and conduct as an officer. I shall not here enlarge on his bravery in the field, though that was very remarkable, as I have heard from others: I say, from others, for I never heard any thing of that kind from himself, nor knew, till after his death, that he was present at almost every battle that was fought in Flanders, while the illustrious Duke of Marlborough commanded the allied army there▪ I have also been assured from several very credible persons, some of whom were eye-witnesses, that at the skirmish with the rebels at Preston in Lancashire, (thirty years before that engagement at the other Preston, which deprived us of this gallant guardian of his country,) he signalized himself very particulaly: For he headed a little body of men, I think about twelve, and set fire to the barricado of the rebels in the face of their whole army, while they were pouring in their shot, by which eight of the twelve that attended him fell. This was the last action of the kind in which he was engaged, before the long peace which ensued: And who can express, how happy it was for him, and indeed for his country, of which he was ever so generous, and in his latter years so important a friend, that he did not fall then; when the profaneness which mingled itself with his martial rage, seemed to rend the heavens, and shocked some other military gentlemen, who were not themselves remarkable for their caution in this respect.

§. 86. But I insist not on things of this nature, which the true greatness of his soul would hardly over permit him to mention, unless, when it tended to illustrate the divine care over him in these extremities of danger, and the grace of God in calling him from so abandoned a state. It is well known, that the character of an officer is not only to be approved in the day of combat. Colonel Gardiner was truly sensible that every day brought its duties along with it; and he was constantly careful, that no pretence of amusement, friendship, or even devotion itself, might prevent their being discharged in their season.

§. 87. I doubt not, but the noble persons in whose regiment he was lieutenant colonel, will always be ready to bear an honourable and grateful testimony to his exemplary diligence [Page] and fidelity, in all that related to the care of the troops over which he was set; whether with regard to the men, or the horses. He knew, that it is incumbent on those who have the honour of presiding over others, whether in civil, ecclesiastical, or military offices, not to content themselves with doing only so much as may preserve them from the reproach of gr [...]ss and visible neglect; but seriously to consider, how much they can possibly do, without going out of their proper sphere, to serve the public, by the due inspection of those committed to their care. The duties of the closet, and of the sanctuary, were so adjusted, as not to interfere with those of the parade, or any other place where the welfare of the regiment called him. On the other hand, he was solicitous, not to suffer these things to interfere with religion; a due attendance to which he apprehended to be the surest method of attaining all desirable success in every other interest and concern in life. He therefore abhorred every thing, that should look like a contrivance to keep his soldiers employed about their horses and their arms at the seasons of public worship; (an indecency, which I wish there was no room to mention:) Far from that, he used to have them drawn up just before it began, and from the parade they went off to the house of God. He understood the rights of conscience too well, to impose his own particular profession in religion on others, or to use those who differed from him in the choice of its modes, the less kindly or respectfully on that account. But as most of his own company, and many of the rest chose (when in England) to attend him to the dissenting chapel, he used to march them thither in due time, so as to be there before worship began. And I must do them the justice to say, that [...]o far as I could ever discern, when I have seen them in large numbers before me, they behaved with as much reverence, gravity, and decorum, during the time of divine service, as any of their fellow worshippers.

§. 88. That his remarkable care to maintain good discipline among them (of which we shall afterwards speak,) might be the more effectual, he made himself on all proper occasions accessible to them and expressed a great concern for their interest; which being so genuine and sincere, naturally discovered itself in a variety of instances. I remember, I had once occasion to visit one of his dragoons; in his [Page] last illness, at Harborough, and I found the man upon the borders of eternity; a circumstance, which, as he apprehended it himself, must add some peculiar weight and credibility to his discourse. And he then told me, in his colonel's absence, that he questioned not, but he should have everlasting reason to bless God on Colonel Gardiner's account, for he had own a father to him in all his interests, both temporal and spiritual. He added, that he had visited him almost every day during his illness, with religious advice and instruction, as well as taken care that he should want nothing, that might conduce to the recovery of his health. And he did not speak of this, as the result of any particular attachment to him, but as the manner in which he was accustomed to treat those under his command. It is no wonder, that this engaged their affection to a very great degree. And I doubt not, that if he had fought the fatal battle of Preston-Pans at the head of that gallant regiment, of which he had the care for so many years, and which is allowed by most unexceptionable judges to be one of the finest in the British service, and consequently in the world, he had been supported in a much different manner; and had found a much greater number, who would have rejoiced in an opportunity of making their own breasts a barrier in the defence of his.

§. 89. It could not but greatly endear him to his soldiers, that so far as preferments lay in his power, or were under his influence, they were distributed according to merit; which he knew to be as much the dictate of prudence, as of equity. I find by one of his letters before me, dated a few months before his happy change, that he was solicited to improve his interest with the Earl of Stair, in favour of one whom he judged a very worthy person; and that he had been suggested by another who recommended him, that if he succeeded he might expect some handsome acknowledgment. But he answers with some degree of indignation; ‘Do you imagine, I am bribed to do justice?’ For such it seems he esteemed it, to confer the favour which was asked from him, on one so deserving. Nothing can more effectually tend to humble the enemies of a state, than that such maxims should universally prevail in it: And if they do not prevail, the worthiest men in an army or fleet may be sunk under repeated [Page] discouragements, and the basest exalted, to the infamy of the public, and perhaps to its ruin.

§ 90. In the midst of all the gentleness which Colonel Gardiner exercised towards his soldiers, he made it very apparent, that he knew how to reconcile the tenderness of a real faithful, and condescending friend, with the authority of a commander. Perhaps hardly any thing conduced more generally to the maintaining of this authority, than the strict decorum and good manners, with which he treated even the private gentlemen of his regiment; which has always a great efficacy towards keeping inferiors at a proper distance, and forbids, in the least offensive manner, familiarities, which degrade the superior, and enervate his influence. The calmness and steadiness of his behaviour on all occasions, did also greatly tend to the same purpose. He knew, how mean a man looks in the transports of passion, and would not use so much freedom with any of his men, as to fall into such transports before them; well knowing, that persons in the lowest rank of life are aware, how unfit they are to govern others, who cannot govern themselves. He was also sensible, how necessary it is in all who preside over others, and especially in military officers, to check irregularities, when they first begin to appear: And that he might be able to do it, he kept a strict inspection over his soldiers; in which view it was observed, that as he generally chose to reside among them as much as he could, (though in circumstances which sometimes occasioned him to deny himself in some interests which were very dear to him,) so when they were around him, he seldom [...]aid long in a place: but was frequently walking the streets, and looking into their quarters and stables, as well as reviewing and exercising them himself. It has often been observed, that the regiment of which he was so many years lieutenant colonel, was one of the most regular and orderly regiments in the public service; so that perhaps none of our dragoons were more welcome than they, to the towns where their character was known. Yet no such bodies of men are so blameless in their conduct, but something will be found, especially among such considerable numbers, worthy of censure, and sometimes of punishment. This Colonel Gardiner knew how to infl [...]ct with a becoming resolution, and with all the severity which he judged necessary: A severity the more awful and impressing, as it was always [Page] attended with meekness; for he well knew, that when things are done in a passion, it seems only an accidental circumstance that they are acts of justice, and that such indecencies greatly obstruct the ends of punishment, both as it relates to reforming offenders, and to deterring others from an imitation of the [...] faults.

§. 91. One instance of his conduct, which happened at Leicester, and was related by the person chiefly concerned to a worthy friend from whom I had it, I cannot forbear inserting. While part of the regiment was encamped in th [...] neighbourhood of that place, the colonel went incognito to the camp in the middle of the night; for he sometimes lodged at his quarters in the town. One of the centinels the [...] on duty had abandoned his post, and on being seized brok [...] out into some oaths, and profane execrations against tho [...] that discovered him; a crime, of which the colonel had th [...] greatest abhorrence, and on which he never failed to an [...] madvert. The man afterwards appeared much ashamed, and concerned for what he had done. But the colonel ordered him to be brought early the next morning to his own quarters, where he had prepared a piquet, on which he appointed him a private sort of penance: And while he was put upon it, he discoursed with him seriously and tenderly upon the evils and aggravations of his fault; admonished him of the divine displeasure which he had incurred; and urged him to argue from the pain which he then felt, how infinitely more dreadful it must be, to fall into the hands of the living God, and indeed to meet the terrors of that damnation, which he had been accustomed impiously to call for on himself and his companions. The result of this proceeding was, that the offender accepted his punishment, not only with submission, but with thankfulness. He went away with a more cordial affection for his colonel, than he eve [...] had before; and spoke of it some years after to my friend, in such a manner, that there seemed reason to hope, it ha [...] been instrumental in producing, not only a change in hi [...] life, but in his heart.

§. 92. There cannot, I think, be a more proper plac [...] for mentioning the great reverence this excellent officer always expressed for the name of the blessed God, and th [...] zeal with which he endeavoured to suppress, and if possibl [...] to extirpate, that detestable sin of swearing and cursing▪ [Page] which is every where so common, and especially among our military men. He often declared his sentiments with respect to this enormity, at the head of his regiment; and urged his captains and their subalterns to take the greatest care, that they did not give the sanction of their example, to that which by their office they were obliged to punish in others. And indeed his zeal on these occasions wrought in a very active, and sometimes in a remarkably successful manner, not only among his equals, but sometimes among his superiors too. An instance of this in Flanders, I shall have an opportunity hereafter to produce; at present I shall only mention his conduct in Scotland a little before his death, as I have it from a very valuable young minister of that country, on whose testimony I can thoroughly depend; and I wish, it may excite many to imitation.

§. 93. The commanding officer of the king's forces then about Edinburgh, with the other colonels, and several other gentlemen of rank in their respective regiments, favoured him with their company at Bank on, and took a dinner with him. He too well foresaw what might happen, amidst such a variety of tempers and characters: And fearing, lest his conscience might have been ensnared by a sinful silence, or that on the other hand he might seem to pass the bounds of decency, and infringe upon the laws of hospitality, by animadverting on [...]ests so justly intitled to his regard; he happily determined on the following method of avoiding each of these difficulties. As soon as they were come together, he addressed them with a great deal of respect, and yet at the same time with a very frank and determined air; and told them, that he had the honour in that district to be a justice of the peace, and consequently that he was sworn to put the laws in execution, and among the rest those against swearing: That he could not execute them upon others with any confidence, or by any means approve himself as a man of impartiality and integrity to his own heart, if he suffered them to be broken in his presence by persons of any rank whatsoever: And that therefore he intreated all the gentlemen who then honoured him with their company, that they would please to be upon their guard; and that if any oath or curse should escape them, he hoped they would consider his legal animadversion upon it, as a regard to the duties of his office and the dictates of his conscience, and [Page] not as owing to any want of deference to them. The commanding officer immediately supported him in this declaration, as entirely becoming the station in which he was assuring him, that he would be ready to pay the penalty, if he inadvertently transgressed; and when Colonel Gardine [...] on any occasion [...]tepped out of the room, he himself undertook to be the guardian of the law in his absens [...]e; and [...] one of the inferior officers offended during this time, he [...] formed the colonel, so that the fine was [...]acted, and give [...] to the poor,* with the universal approbation of the [...]mp [...] ny. The story spread in the neighbourhood, and was perhaps applauded highly by many, who wanted the coura [...] to go and do likewise But it may be said of the wo [...] person of whom I write, with the [...]m [...]st propriety, to [...] he feared the face of no man living where the honour [...] God was concerned. In all such cases he might be jus [...] said, in scripture phrase, to set his face like a flint; and assuredly believe, that had he been in the presence of a [...] vereign prince, who had been guilty of this fault, his lo [...] at least would have testified his grief and surprize; if he h [...] apprehended it unfit to have borne his testimony any oth [...] way.

§. 94. Lord Codogan's regiment of dragoons during th [...] years I have mention [...]d, while he was lieutenant colonel [...] it, was quartered in a great variety of places, both in England and Scotland, from many of which I have [...]tters before me: particularly, from Hamilton, Air, Carli [...], Hereford, Maidenhead, Leicester, Warwick, Coventry, Stamford, Harborough, Northampton, and several other places, especially in our inland parts. The natural consequence was, that the colonel, whose character was on many accounts so very remarkable, had a very extensive acquaintance: And I believe I may certainly say, that wherever he was known by persons of wisdom and worth, he wa [...] proportionably respected, and left behind him traces of u [...] affected [Page] devotion, humility, benevolence, and zeal for the support and advancement of religion and virtue.

§ 95. The equable tenor of his mind in these respects, is illustrated by his letters from several of these places; and though it is but comparatively a small number of them which I have now in my hands, yet they will afford some valuabl [...] extracts; which I shall therefore here lay before my reader, that he may the better judge as to his real character, in particulars of which I have already discoursed, or which may hereafter occur.

§. 96. In a letter to his lady, dated from Carlisle, Nov. [...]9, 1733, when he was on his journey to Herefordshire, [...] breathes out his greatful chearful soul in these words: ‘I bless God, I was never better in my life time; and I wish I could be so happy, as to hear the same of you▪ rather, (in other words,) to hear that you had obtained an entire trust in God. That would infallibly keep you in perfect peace; for the God of truth hath promised it. Oh, how ought we to be longing to be with Christ, which is infinitely better than any thing we can propose here! To be there, where all complaints shall be for ever banished; where no mountains shall separate between God and our souls: And I hope, it will be some addition to our happiness, that you and I shall be separated no more; but that as we have joined in singing the praises of our glorious Redeemer here, we shall sing them in a much higher key through an endless eternity. Oh eternity, eternity! What a wonderful thought is eternity!’

§. 97. From Leicester, Aug. 6, 17 [...]9, he writes thus to this lady: ‘Yesterday I was at the Lords's table, where you and the children were not forgotten: But how wonderfully was I assisted when I came home, to plead for you all with many tears!’ And then, speaking of some intimate friends, who were impatient (as I suppose by the connection,) for his return to them, he takes occasion to observe the necessity ‘of endeavouring to compose our minds, and to say with the Psalmist, my soul, wait then only upon God.’ Afterwards, speaking of one of his children, of whom he heard that he made a commendable progress in learning, he expresses his satisfaction in it, and adds, ‘But how much greater joy would it give me, to h [...]r that he was greatly advanced in the school of Christ? [Page] Oh that our children may but be wise to salvation; and may grow in grace, as they do in stature!’

§. 98 These letters, which to so familiar a friend evidently lay open the heart, and shew the ideas and affections which were lodged deepest there, are sometimes taken up with an account of sermons he had attended, and the impression they had made upon his mind I shall mention one only, as a specimen of many more, which was dated from a place called Cohorn, April 15. ‘We had here a minister from Wales, who gave us two excellent discourses on the love of Christ to us, as an argument to engage our love to him. And indeed, next to the greatness of his love to us, methinks there is nothing so astonishing as the coldness of our love to him. Oh that he would shed abroad his love upon our hearts by his holy Spirit, that ours might be kindled into a flame! May God enable you to trust in him, and then you will be kept in perfect peace!’

§. 99. We have met with many traces of that habitual gratitude to the blessed God, as his heavenly Father and constant friend, which made his life probably one of the happiest that ever was spent on earth. I cannot omit one more, which appears to me the more worthy of notice, as being a short turn in as hasty a letter as any I remember to have seen of his, which he wrote from Leicester, in June, 1739. ‘I am now under the deepest sense of the many favours the Almighty has bestowed upon me: Surely you will help me to celebrate the praises of our gracious God and kind benefactor.’ This exuberance of grateful affection, which, while it was almost every hour pouring itself forth before God in the most genuine and emphatical language, felt itself still as it were straitened for want of a sufficient vent, and therefore called on others to help him with their concurrent praises appears to me the most glorious and happy state in which a human soul can find itsel [...] on this side heaven.

§. 100. Such was the temper, which this excellent ma [...] appears to have carried along with him through such a vari [...] ty of places a [...]d circumstances; and the whole of his depor [...] ment was suitable to these impressions. Strangers were agreeably struck with his first appearance, there was so much of the christian, the well-bred man, and the universal frien [...] [Page] in it; and as they came more intimately to know him, they discovered, more and more, the uniformity and consistency of his whole temper and behaviour: so that whether he made only a visit for a few days to any place, or continued there for many weeks or months, he was always beloved and esteemed, and spoken of with that honorable testimony from persons of the most different denominations and parties, which nothing but true sterling worth, (if I may be allowed the expression) and that in an eminent degree, can secure.

§. 101. Of the justice of this testimony which I had so often heard from a variety of persons, I myself began to be a witness about the time when the last mentioned letter was dated. In this view I believe I shall never forget that happy day, June 13, 1739, when I first met him at Leicester, I remember, I happened that day to preach a lecture from Psal. cxix. 158. ‘I beheld the transgressors, and was grieved, because they kept not thy law.’ I was large in describing that mixture of indignation and grief, (strongly expressed by the original word there,) with which the good man looks on the daring transgressors of the divine law; and in tracing the causes of that grief, as arising from a regard to the divine honour, and the interest of a Redeemer, and a compassionate concern for the misery such offenders bring on themselves, and for the mischief they do to the world about them. I little thought, how exactly I was drawing Colonel Gardiner's character under each of those heads; and I have often reflected upon it as a happy providence, which opened a much speedier way than I could have expected, to the breast of one of the most amiable and useful friends, which I ever expect to find upon earth. We afterwards [...]ong a hymn, which brought over again some of the leading thoughts in the sermon, and struck him so strongly, that on obtaining a copy of it he committed it to his memory, and [...]sed to repeat it with so forcible an accent, as shewed how much every line expressed of his very soul. In this view the [...]eader will pardon my inserting it; especially, as I know not when I may get time to publish a volume of these serious, [...]hough artless composures, which I sent him in manuscript [...]me years ago, and to which I have since made very [...]rge additions.

[Page]

I.

Arise, my tend'rest thoughts, arise,

To torrents, melt my streaming eyes!

And thou, my heart, with anguish feel

Those evils which thou canst not heal!

II.

See human nature sunk in shame!

See scandals pour'd on Jesus' name!

The Father wounded through the Son!

The world abus'd, the soul undone!

III.

See the short course of vain delight

Closing in everlasting night!

In flames, that no abatement know,

The briny tears for ever flow.

IV.

My God, I feel the mournful scene;

My bowels yearn o'er dying men:

And fain my pity would reclaim,

And snatch the fire-brands from the flame.

V.

But feeble my compassion proves,

And can but weep, where most it loves.

Thine own all saving arm employ,

And turn these drops of grief to joy!

§. 102. The Colonel, immediately after the conclusion of the service, met me in the vestry, and embraced me in the most obliging and affectionate manner, as if there had been a long friendship between us; assured me, that he had for some years been intimately acquainted with my writings; and desired, that we might concert measures for spending some hours together before I left the town. I was so happy, as to be able to secure an opportunity of doing it; and I must leave it upon record, that I cannot recollect, I was ever equally edified by any conversation I remember to have enjoyed, We passed that evening and the next morning together; and it is impossible for me to describe the impression, which the interview left upon my heart. I re [...] alone all the remainder of the day; and it was my unspeakable happiness that I was alone, since I could be no long [...] with him: for I can hardly conceive, what other company [Page] would not then have been an incumbrance. The views which he gave me even then, (for he began to repose a most obliging confidence in me, though he concealed some of the most extraordinary circumstances of the methods by which he had been recovered to God and happiness,) with those cordial sentiments of evangelical piety and extensive goodness, which he poured out into my bosom with so endearing a freedom, fired my very soul; and I hope I may truly say, (what I wish and pray, many of my readers may also adopt for themselves,) that I glorified God in him. Our epistolary correspondence immediately commenced upon my return; and though, through the multiplicity of business on both sides, it suffered many interruptions; it was in some degree the blessing of all the following years of my life, till he fell by those unreasonable and wicked men, who had it in their hearts with him to have destroyed all our glory, defence, and happiness.

§. 103. The first letter I received from him was so remarkable that some persons of eminent piety, to whom I communicated it, would not be content without copying it out, or making some extracts from it. I persuade myself, that my devout reader will not be displeased, that I insert the greatest part of it here; especially, as it serves to illustrate the affectionate sense which he had of the divine goodness in his conversion, though more than twenty years had passed since that memorable event happened. Having mentioned my ever dear and honoured friend, Dr. Isaac Watts, on an occasion which I hinted above, (§. 70.) he adds, ‘I have been in pain for several years, lest that excellent person, that sweet singer in our Israel, should have been called to heaven, before I had an opportunity of letting him know, how much his works have been blessed to me, and of course, of returning him my hearty thanks: For though it is owing to the operation of the blessed Spirit, that any thing works effectually upon our hearts, yet if we are not thankful to the instrument which God is pleased to make use of, whom we do see, how shall we be thankful to the Almighty, whom we have not seen? I desire to bless God for the good news of his recovery, and intreat you to tell him, that although I cannot keep pace with him here, in celebrating the high praises of our glorious Redeemer, which is the greatest grief of my heart; yet I am persuaded, that [Page] when I join the glorious company above, where there will be no draw-backs, none will out-sing me there; because I shall not find any that will be more indebted to the wonderful riches of divine grace than I.’

"Give me a place at thy saints feet,

"Or some fall'n angel [...]s vacant seat;

"I'll strive to sing as loud as they

"Who sit above in brighter day.

‘I know, it is natural for every one, who has felt the Almighty power which raised our glorious Redeemer from the grave, to believe his case singular: But I have made every one in this respect submit, as soon as he has heard my story. And if you seemed so surprized at the account which I gave you, what will you be when you hear it all?’

"Oh if I had an angel's voice,

"And could be heard from pole to pole;

"I would to all the listening world

"Proclaim thy goodness to my soul."

He then concludes, (after some expressions of endearment which, with whatever pleasure I review them, I must no [...] here insert;) ‘If you knew what a natural aversion I have to writing, you would be astonished at the length of this letter, which is I believe the longest I ever wrote. But my heart warms when I write to you, which makes my pen move the easier. I hope, it will please our gracious God, long to preserve you, a blessed instrument in his hand of doing great good in the church of Christ; and that you may always enjoy a thriving soul in a healthful body, shall be the continual prayer of, &c’

§. 104. As our intimacy grew, our mutual affection increased; and "my dearest friend" was the form of address with which most of his epistles of the last years were begun and ended. Many of them are filled up with his sentiment [...] of those writings which I published during these years, which he read with great attention, and of which he speaks i [...] terms, which it becomes me to suppress, and to impute [...] in a considerable degree to the kind prejudices of so [...] deared a friendship. He gives me repeated assurance [Page] "that he was daily mindful of me in his prayers;" a circumstance, which I cannot recollect without the greatest thankfulness; the loss of which I should more deeply lament, did I not hope, that the happy effect of these prayers might still continue, and might run into all my remaining days.

§. 105. It might be a pleasure to me, to make several extracts from many others of his letters: But it is a pleasure which I ought to suppress and rather to reflect with unfeigned humility, how unworthy I was of such regards from such a person, and of that divine goodness which gave me such a friend in him. I shall therefore only add two general remarks, which offer themselves from several of his letters. The one is, that there is in some of them, as our freedom increased an agreeable vein of humour and pleasantry; which shews, how easy religion sat upon him, and how far he was from placing any part of it in a gloomy melancholy, or stiff formality. The other is, that he frequently refers to domestic circumstances, such as the illness or recovery of my children, &c. which I am surprized how a man of his extensive and important business could so distinctly bear upon his mind. But his memory was good, and his heart was yet better; and his friendship was such, that nothing which sensibly affected the heart of one whom he honoured with it, left his own but slightly touched. I have all imaginable reason to believe, that in many instances his prayers were not only offered for us in general terms, but varied as our particular situation required. Many quotations might verify this; but I decline troubling the reader with an enumeration of passages, in which it was only the abundance of friendly sympathy, that gave this truly great, as well as good man, so cordial a concern.

§. 106. After this correspondence, carried on for the space of abou [...] three years, and some interviews which we had enjoyed at different places, he came to spend some time with us at Northampton and broug [...] [...] him his lady, and his two [...]ldest children. I had her [...] opportunity of taking a much nearer view of his charact [...] [...] [...]d surveying it in a much greater variety of lights [...] b [...]ore; and my esteem, for him increased in proportion o [...] these opportunities. What I have wrote above, with respect to his conduct in relative life, was in a great measure drawn from what I no [...] [Page] saw. And I shall here mention some other points in his behaviour, which particularly struck my mind; and likewise shall touch on his sentiments on some topics of importance, which he freely communicated to me, and which I remarked on account of that wisdom and propriety, which I apprehended in them.

§. 107. There was nothing more openly observable in Colonel Gardiner, than the exemplary gravity, composure, and reverence, with which he attended public worship Copious as he was in his secret devotions before he engaged in it, he always began them so early, as not to be retarded by them, when he should resort to the house of God. He, and all his soldiers who chose to worship with him, were generally there, (as I have already hinted,) before the service began; that the entrance of so many of them at once might not disturb the congregation already engaged in devotion, and that there might be the better opportunity for bringing the mind to a becoming attention, and preparing it for converse with the divine Being. While acts of worship were going on, whether of prayer or singing, he always stood up; and whatever regard he might have for persons who passed by him at that time, though it were to come into the same pew, he never paid any compliment to them: And often has he expressed his wonder at the indecorum, of breaking off our address to God, to bow to a fellow creature; which he thought a much greater indecency, than it would be, on a like occasion and circumstance, to interrupt an address to our prince. During the time of preaching, his eye was commonly fixed upon the minister, though sometimes turned round upon the auditory, where if he observed any to trifle, it filled him with just indignation. And I have known instances, in which upon making the remark, he has communicated it to some friend of the persons who were guilty of it, that proper application might be made to prevent it for the time to come.

§. 108. A more devout communicant at the table of the Lord has perhaps seldom been any where known. Often have I had the pleasure, to see that manly countenance softened to all the marks of humiliation and contrition, on thi [...] occasion; and to discern, in spite of all his efforts to conceal them, streams of tears flowing down from his eyes while he has been directing them to those memorials of h [...] [Page] Redeemer's love. And some, who have conversed intimately with him after he came from that ordinance, have observed a visible abstraction from surrounding objects; by which there seemed reason to imagine, that his soul was wrapped up in holy contemplation And I particularly remember, that when we had once spent great part of the following Monday in riding together, he made an apology to me for being so absent as he seemed, by telling me, ‘that his heart was flown upwards before he was aware, to him whom not having se [...]n he loved:* and that he was rejoicing in him with such unspeakable joy, that he could not hold it down to creature converse.’

§. 109. In all the offices of friendship he was remarkably ready, and had a most sweet and engaging manner of performing them, which greatly heightened the obligations he conferred He seemed not to set any high value upon any benefit he bestowed; but did it without the least parade, as a thing which in those circumstances came of course, where he had professed love and respect; which he was not over-forward to do, though he treated strangers and those who were most his inferiors, very courteously and always seemed, because he in truth always was, glad of any opportunity of doing them good.

§. 110. He was particularly zealous in vindicating the reputation of his friends in their absence: And though I cannot recollect, that I had ever an opportunity of observing this immediately, as I don't know that I ever [...]s present with him when any ill was spoken of others at all; yet by what I have heard him say, with relation to attempts to injure the character of worthy and useful men, I have reason to believe, that no man living was more sensible of the baseness and infamy, as well as the cruelty, of such a conduct. He knew, and despised, the low principles of resentment for unreasonable expectations disappointed, of personal attachment to men of some crossing interests, of envy, and of party zeal, from whence such a conduct often proceeds; and was particularly offended, when he found it (as he frequently did,) in persons that set up for the greatest patrons of liberty, virtue, and candor. He looked upon the murtherers [Page] of reputation and usefulness, as some of the [...] pests of society; and plainly shewed on every proper occasion, that he thought it the part of a generous, benevolent, and couragious man, to exert himself in tracing and hunting down the slander, that the authors or a betters of i [...] might be less capable of doing mischief for the future.

§. 111. The most plausible objection that I ever heard to Colonel Gardiner's character is, that he was too much attached to some religious principles, established indeed in the churches, both of England and Scotland, but which have of late years been much disputed, and from which, it is [...] least generally supposed not a few in both have thought [...] per to depart; whatever expedients they may have found to quiet their consciences, in subscribing those formula [...]ie [...], in which they are plainly taught. His zeal was especiall [...] apparent in opposition to those doctrines, which seemed [...] derogate from the divine honours of the Son and Spirit of God, and from the freedom of divine grace, or the reality and necessity of its operations, in the conversion and salvation of sinners.

§. 112. With relation to these I must observe, that i [...] was his most stedfast persuasion, that all those notions, which represent our blessed Redeemer and the holy Spirit as mere creatures, or which set aside the atonement of the former, or the influences of the latter, do sap the very foundation of christianity, by rejecting the most gloriou [...] doctrines peculiar to it. He had attentively observed (what indeed is too obvious,) the unhappy influence, which the denial of these principles often has on the character of ministers, and on their success, and was persuaded, that a [...] attempt to substitute that mutilated form of christianity which remains, when these essentials of it are taken away, has proved one of the most successful methods which the great enemy of souls has ever taken in these latter days, [...] lead men by insensible degrees into deism, vice, and p [...]rdition. He also sagaciously observed the artful manner in which obnoxious tenets are often maintained or insinua [...]e [...] with all that mixture of zeal and address with which the [...] are propagated in the world, even by those who had m [...] solemnly professed to believe, and engaged to reach the contrary: And as he really apprehended, tha [...] the glory [...] God, and the salvation of souls was concerned, his pic [...] [Page] and charity made him eager and strenuous in opposing, what he judged to be errors of so pernicious a nature. Yet I must declare, that according to what I have known of him, (and I believe he opened his heart on these topics to me, with as much freedom as to any man living,) he was not ready upon light suspicions to charge tenets which he thought so pernicious on any, especially where he saw the appearances of a good temper and life, which he always reverenced and loved in persons of all sentiments and professions. He severely condemned causeless jealousies, and evil surmisings of every kind; and extended that charity in this respect, both to clergy, and laity, which good bishop Burnet was so ready, according to his own account, to limit to the latter, ‘of believing every man good till he knew him to be bad, and his notions right till he knew them wrong.’ He could not but be very sensible of the unhappy consequences, which may follow on attacking the characters of men, especially of those who are ministers of the gospel: And if through a mixture of human frailty, from which the best of men in the best of their meanings and intentions are not entirely free, he has ever, in the warmth of his heart, dropped a word which might be injurious to any other on that account, (which I believe very seldom happened,) he would gladly retract it on better information; which was perfectly agreeable to that honest and generous frankness of temper, in which I never knew any man who exceeded him.

§. 113. On the whole, it was indeed his deliberate judgment, that the Arian, Socinian, and Pelagian doctrines were highly dishonourable to God, and dangerous to the souls of men; and that it was the duty of private christians, to be greatly on their guard against those ministers by whom they are entertained, lest their minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. Yet he sincerely abhorred the thought of persecution for conscience sake; of the absurdity and iniquity of which in all its kinds and degrees, he had as deep and rational a conviction, as any man I could name. And indeed the generosity of his heroic heart could hardly bear to think, that those glorious truths, which he so cordially loved, and which he assuredly believed to be capable of such fair support, both from reason and the word of God, should be disgraced by methods of defence and [Page] propagation, common to the most impious and ridiculous falsehoods. Nor did he by any means approve of passionate and furious ways of vi [...]i [...]icating the most vital and important doctrines of the gospel: For he knew, that to maintain the most benevolent religion in the world, by such malevolent and infernal methods, was destroying the end to accomplish the means; and that it was as impossible, that true christianity should be supported thus, as it is that a man should long be nourished by eating his own flesh. To display the genuine fruits of christianity in a good life, to be ready to plead with meekness and sweetness for the doctrines it teaches, and to labour by every office of humanity and goodness to gain upon them that oppose it, were the weapons with which this good soldier of Jesus Christ faithfully fought the battles of the Lord. These weapons will always be victorious in his cause; and they who have recourse to others of a different temperature, how strong soever they may seem, and how sharp soever they may really be, will find they break in their hands when they exert them most furiously, and are much more likely to wound themselves, than to conquer the enemies they oppose.

§. 114. But while I am speaking of Colonel Gardiner's charity in this respect, I must not omit that of another kind which has indeed engrossed the name of charity much more than it ought, excellent as it is; I mean alms-giving, for which he was very remarkable. I have osen wondered, how he was able to do so many generous things this way: But his frugality fed the spring. He made no pleasurable expence on himself, and was contented with a very decent app [...]arance in his family, without effecting such an air of grandeur, as could not have been supported without sacrificing to it satisfactions far nobler, and to a temper like his far more delightful. The lively and tender feelings of his heart in favour of the distressed and afflicted, made it a self-indulgence to him to relieve them; and the deep conviction he had of the vain and transitory nature of the enjoyments of this world, together with the sublime view he had of another, engaged him to dispense his bounties with a very liberal hand, and even to seek out proper objects of them: And above all, his sincere and ardent love to the Lord Jesus Christ engaged him to feel, with a true sympathy, the concerns of his poor members. In consequence [Page] of this, he honoured several of his friends with commissions for the relief of the poor; and particularly, with relation to some under my pastoral care, he referred it to my discretion to supply them with what I should judge expedient, and frequently pressed me in his letters to be sure not to let them want. And where persons standing in need of his charity happened, as they often did to be persons of remarkably religious dispositions, it was easy to perceive, that he not only loved, but honoured them; and really esteemed it an honour which providence conferred upon him, that he should be made, as it were, the almoner of God for the relief of such.

§. 115. I cannot forbear relating a little story here which, when the Colonel himself heard it, gave him such exquisite pleasure, that I hope it will be acceptable to several of my readers. There was in a village, about three miles from Northampton, and in a family which of all others near me was afterwards most indebted to him, (though he had never then seen any member of it,) an aged and poor, but eminently good woman, who had with great difficulty, in the exercise of much [...]aith and patience, diligence and humility, made shift to educate a large family of children, after the death of her husband, without being chargeable to the parish; which, as it was quite beyond her hope, she often spoke of with great delight. At length, when worn out with age and infirmities, she lay upon her dying bed, she did in a most lively and affecting manner express her hope and joy in the views of approaching glory. Yet amidst all the triumph of such a prospect, there was one remaining care and distress which lay heavy on her mind; which was, that her journey and her stock of provisions were both ended together; she feared, that she must either be buried at the parish expence, or leave her most dutiful and affectionate daughters the house stripped of some of the few moveables which remained in it, to perform the last office of duty to her, which she had reason to believe they would do. While she was combating with this only remaining anxiety. I happened, though I knew not the extremity of her illness, to come it, and to bring with me a guinea, which the generous Colonel had sent by a special message, on hearing the character of the family, for its relief. A present like this, (probably the most considerable they had ever received in their lives,) [Page] coming in this manner from an entire stranger, at such a cresis of time, threw my dying friend, (for such, amidst all her poverty, I rejoiced to call her,) into a perfect transport of joy. She esteemed it a singular favor of Providence, sent to her in her last moments as a token for good, and greeted it as a special mark of that loving-kindness of God which should attend her for ever. She would therefore be raised up in her bed, that she might bless God for it upon her knees, and with her last breath pray for her kind and generous benefactor, and for him who had been the instrument of directing his bounty into this channel. After which she soon expired, with such tranquility and sweetness, as could not but most sensibly delight all who beheld her, and occasioned many, who knew the circumstances, to glorify God on her behalf.

§. 116. The Colonel's last residence at Northampton was in June and July, 1742, when Lord Cadogan's regiment of dragoons was quartered here: And I cannot but observe that wherever that regiment came, it was remarkable not only for the fine appearance it made, and for the exactness with which it performed its various exercises (of which it had about this time the honor to receive the most illustrious testimonials;) but also for the great sobriety and regularity of the soldiers. Many of the officers copied after the excellent pattern, which they had daily before their eyes; and a considerable number of the private men seemed to be persons, not only of strict virtue, but of serious piety. And I doubt not, but they found their abundant account in it; not only in the serenity and happiness of their own minds which is beyond comparison the most important consideration; but also in some degree, in the obliging and respectful treatment which they generally met with in their quarters. And I mention this, because I am persuaded that if gentlemen of their profession knew, and would reflect, how much more comfortable they make their own quarters by a sober orderly, and obliging conduct, they would be regular out of more self-love; if they were not influenced, as I heartily wish they may always be, by a nobler principle.

§. 117. Towards the latter end of this year he embarked for Flanders, and spent some consierable time with th [...] regiment at Ghent: where he much regretted the want of those religious ordinances and opportunities, which had made [Page] his other abodes delightful. But as he had made so eminent a progress in that divine life, which they are all intended to promote, he could not be unactive in the cause of God. I have now before me a letter dated from thence, October 16, 1742, in which he writes: ‘As for me, I am indeed in a dry and barren land, where no water is, Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because nothing is to be heard in our Sodom, but blaspheming the name of my God; and I am not honoured as the instrument of doing any great service. 'Tis true I have reformed six or seven field-officers of swearing. I dine every day with them, and have entered them into a voluntary contract, to pay a shilling to the poor for every oath; and it is wonderful to observe the effect it has had already. One of them told me this day at dinner, that it had really such an influence upon him, that being at cards last night when another officer fell a swearing, he was not able to bear it, but rose up and left the company. So you see, restraints at first arising from a low principle may improve into something better.’

§. 118. During his abode here, he had a great deal of business upon his hands; and had also, in some marches, the care of more regiments than his own: And it has been very delightful to me to observe, what a degree of converse with heaven, and the God of it, he maintained, amidst these scenes of hurry and fatigue; of which the reader may find a remarkable specimen in the following letter, dated from Lichwick, in the beginning of April, 1743, which was one of the last I received from him while abroad, and begins with these words. ‘Yesterday being the Lord's day, at six in the morning, I had the pleasure of receiving yours at Nortonick; and it proved a Sabbath-day's blessing to me. Some time before it reached me,’ (from whence by the way it may be observed, that his former custom of rising so early to his devotions was still retained,) ‘I had been wrestling with God with many tears; when I had read it, I returned to my knees again, to give hearty thanks to him, for all his goodness to you and yours, and also to myself, in that he hath been pleased to stir up so many who are dear to him, to be mindful of me at the throne of grace.’ And then, after the mention of some other [Page] particulars, he adds; ‘Blessed, and adored for ever, be the holy name of my heavenly Father, who holds my soul in life, and my body in perfect health! Were I to recount his mercy and goodness to me even in the midst of all these hurries, I should never have done.—I hope, you [...] master will still encourage you in his work, and make you a blessing to many. My dearest friend, I am mu [...] more yours than I can express, and shall remain so wh [...] I am, J. G.’

§. 119. In this correspondence I had a farther opportunity of discovering that humble resignation to the will of Go [...] which made so amiable a part of his character, and of which I had before seen so many instances. He speaks in the letter from which I have just been giving an extract, of the hope he had expressed in a former, of seeing us again th [...] winter; and he adds, ‘To be sure, it would have bee [...] great pleasure to me: But we poor mortals form projec [...] and the Almighty ruler of the universe disposes of all [...] he pleases. A great many of us were getting ready f [...] our return to England, when we received an order [...] march towards Frankfort, to the great surprize of t [...] whole army, neither can any of us comprehend what [...] are to do there; for there is no enemy in that country▪ the French army being marched into Batavia, where I [...] sure we cannot follow them. But it is the will of th [...] Lord; and his will be done! I desire to bless and prai [...] my heavenly Father, that I am entirely resigned to it. It is no matter where I go, or what becomes of me, [...] that God may be glorified, in my life, or my death. I should rejoice much to hear, that all my friends were [...] qually resigned.’

§. 120. The mention of this article reminds me of another, relating to the views which he had of obtaining a re [...] ment for himself. He endeavoured to deserve it by the m [...] faithful services; some of them indeed beyond what [...] strength of his constitution could well bear: for the weathe [...] in some of these marches proved exceeding bad, and yet [...] would be always at the head of his people, that he mig [...] look to every thing that concerned them, with the exacte [...] care. This obliged him to neglect the beginnings of a [...] verish illness; the natural consequence of which was, that [...] [Page] grew very formidable, forced a long confinement upon him, and gave animal nature a shock, which it never recovered.

§. 121. In the mean time, as he had the promise of a regiment before he quitted England, his friends were continually expecting an occasion of congratulating him on having received the command of one. But still they were disappointed; and on some of them the disappointment seemed to sit heavy. As for the Colonel himself, he seemed quite easy about it; and appeared much greater in that easy situation of [...]ind, than the highest military honours and preferments could have made him. With great pleasure do I at this moment recollect the unaffected serenity, and even indifference, with which he expresses himself on this occasion, in a letter to me, dated about the beginning of April, 1743; ‘The disappointment of a regiment is nothing to me; for I am satisfied, that had it been for God's glory, I should have had it; and I should have been sorry to have had it on any other terms. My heavenly Father has bestowed upon me infinitely more, than if he had made me emperor of the whole world.’

§. 122. I find several parallel expressions in other letters; and those to his lady about the same time were just in the same strain. In an extract from one, which was written from Aix la-Chapelle, April 21, the same year, I meet with these words: ‘People here imagine I must be sadly troubled, that I have not got a regiment, (for six out of seven vacant are now disposed of,) but they are strangely mistaken, for it has given me no sort of trouble. My heavenly Father knows what is best for me; and blessed and for ever adored be his name, he has given me an entire resignation to his will: besides I don't know, that ever I met with any disappointment since I was a Christian, but it pleased God to discover to me, that it was plainly for my advantage, by bestowing something better upon me afterwards: many instances of which I am able to produce; and therefore I should be the greatest of monsters, if I did not trust in him.’

§. 123. I should be guilty of a great omission, if I were not to add, how remarkably the event corresponded with his faith, on this occasion. For whereas he had no intimation or expectation, of any thing more than a regiment of foot, his majesty was pleased, out of his great goodness, to give [Page] him a regiment of dragoons, which was then quartered just in his own neighbourhood. And it is properly remarked by the reverend and worthy person through whose hand this letter was transmitted to me, that when the Colonel thus expressed himself, he could have no prospect of what he afterwards so soon obtained; as General Bland's regiment, to which he was advanced, was only vacant on the 19th of April, that is, two days before the date of this letter, when it was impossible he should have any notice of that vacancy. And it also deserves observation, that some few days after the Colonel was thus unexpectedly promoted to the command of these dragoons, Brigadier Cornwallis's regiment of foot, then in Flanders, became vacant: now had this happened before his promotion to General Bland's, Colonel Gardiner in all probability would only have had that regiment of foot, and so have continued in Flanders. When the affair was issued, [...]e informs lady Frances of it, in a letter dated from a village near Frankfort, May 3, in which he refers to his former of the 21st of April, observing how remarkably it was verified, "in God's having given him," (for so he expresses it, agreeably to the views he continually maintained of the universal agency of divine Providence,) ‘what he had no expectation of, and what was so much better than that which he had missed, a regiment of dragoons quartered at his own door.’

§. 124. It appeared to him, that by this remarkable event Providence called him home. Accordingly, though he had other preferments offered him in the army, he chose to return; and I believe, the more willingly, as he did not expect there would have been any action. Just at this time it pleased God to give him an awful instance of the uncertainty of human prospects and enjoyments, by that violent fever, which seized him at Ghent in his way to England; and perhaps the more severely, for the efforts he made to push on his journey, though he had for some days been much indisposed. It was, I think, one of the first fits of severe illness he had ever met with; and he was ready to look upon it, as a sudden call into eternity: But it gave him no painful alarm in that view. He committed himself to the God of his life, and in a few weeks he was so well recovered, as to be capable of pursuing his journey, though not without difficulty: And I cannot but think, it might have conduce [...] [Page] much to a more perfect recovery than he ever attained, to have allowed himself a longer repose, in order to recruit his exhausted strength and spirits But there was an activity in his temper, not easy to be restrained; and it was now stimulated, not only by a desire of seeing his friends, but of being with his regiment; that he might omit nothing in his power, to regulate their morals and their discipline, and to form them for public service. Accordingly he passed through London, about the middle of June, 1743, where he had the honor of waiting on their royal highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales, and of receiving from both the most obliging tokens of favor and esteem. He arrived at Northampton on Monday the 20th of June, and spent part of three days here. But the great pleasure which his return and preferment gave us, was much obated, by observing his countenance so sadly altered, and many marks of languor, and remaining disorder, which evidently appeared; so that he really looked ten years older than he had done ten months before. I had however a satisfaction, sufficient to counter-balance much of the concern which this alteration gave me, in a renewed opportunity of observing, indeed more sensibly than ever, in how remarkable a degree he was dead to the enjoyments and views of this mortal life. When I congratulated him on the favorable appearances of Providence for him in the late event, he briefly told me the remarkable circumstances that attended it, with the most g [...]nn [...]e impressions of gratitude to God for them; but added ‘that as his account was increased with his income, power, and influence, and his cares were proportionably increased too, it was as to his own personal concern much the same to him, whether he had remained in his former station, or been elevated to this; but that if God should by this means honor him, as an instrument of doing more good than he could otherwise have done, he should rejoice in it.’

§. 125. I perceived that the near views he had taken of eternity, in the illness from which he was then so imperfectly recovered had not in the least alarmed him; but that he would have been entirely willing, had such been the determination of God, to have been cut short in a foreign land, without any earthly friend near him, and in the midst of a [Page] journey, undertaken with hopes and prospects so pleasing to nature; which appeared to me no inconsiderable evidence of the strength of his faith. But we shall wonder the less at this extraordinary resignation, if we consider the joyful and assured prospect which he had of an happiness infinitely superior beyond the grave; of which that worthy minister of the church of Scotland, who had an opportunity of conversing with him quickly after his return, and having the memorable story of his conversion from his own mouth, (as I have hinted above,) writes thus in his letter to me, dated Jan. 14, 1746-7. ‘When he came to review his regiment in Linlithgow, in summer 1743, after having given me the wonderful story as above, he conclud [...]d in words to this purpose;—Let me die whenever it shall please God, at wherever it shall be, I am sure, I shall go to the mansions of eternal glory, and enjoy my God and my Redeemer in heaven for ever’

§. 126. While he was with us at this time, he appeared deeply affected with the sad state of things as to religion and morals; and seemed to apprehend, that the rod of God was hanging over so sinful a nation. He observed a great deal of disaffection, which the enemies of the government had, by a variety of artifices, been raising in Scotland for some years; and the number of Jacobites there, together with the defenceless state in which our island then was, with respect to the number of its forces at home, (of which he spoke at once with great concern and astonishment,) led him to expect an invasion fr [...] France, and an attempt in favor of the pretender, much sooner than it happened. I have heard him say, many years before it came so near being accomplished, ‘that a few thousands might have: fair chance for marching from Edinburgh to London uncontrolled, and throw the whole kingdom into an astonishment’ And I have great reason to believe, that this was one main consideration, which engaged him to make such haste to his regiment, then quartered in those parts; as he imagined there was not a spot of ground, where he might be more like to have a call to expose his life in the service of his country; and perhaps, by appearing on a proper call early in its defence, be instrumental in suppressing the beginnings of most formidable mischiefs. How rightly he judged in these things, the event did too evidently show.

[Page]§. 127. The evening before our last separation, as I knew I could not entertain the invaluable friend who was then my guest more agreeably, I preached a sermon in my own house, with some peculiar reference to his case and circumstances, from those ever memorable words, than which I have never felt any more powerful and more comfortable: Psal. xci. 14, 15, 16. "Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he hath known my name: He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him, and honour him: With long life (or length of days) will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation." This scripture could not but lead our meditations to survey the character of the good man, as one who so knows the name of the blessed God, (has such a deep apprehension of the glories and perfections of his nature,) as determinately to set his love upon him, to make him the supreme object of his most ardent and constant affection. And it suggested the most sublime and animating hopes to persons of such a character; that their prayers shall be always acceptable to God; that though they may, and must be called out to their share in the troubles and calamities of life, yet they may assure themselves of the divine presence in all; which shall issue in their deliverance, in their exaltation, sometimes, to distinguished honour and esteem among men, and, it may be in a long course of useful and happy years on earth; at least, which shall undoubtedly end in seeing, to their perpetual delight, the complete salvation of God, in a world where they shall enjoy length of days for ever and ever, and employ them all in adoring the great author of their salvation and felicity. It is evident, that these natural thoughts on such a scripture were matters of universal concern. Yet had I known, that this was the last time I should ever address Colonel Gardiner as a minister of the gospel, and had I foreseen the scenes through which God was about to lead him, I hardly know what considerations I could have suggested with more peculiar propriety. The attention, elevation, and delight, with which he heard them, was very apparent; and the pleasure which the observation of it gave me, continues to this moment. And let me be permitted to digress so far, as to add, that this is indeed the great support of a christian minister, under the many discouragements and disappointments [Page] which he meets with, in his attempts to fix upon the profligate or the thoughtless part of mankind a deep sense of religious truths; that there is another important part of his work, in which he may hope to be more generallly successful; as by plain, artless, but serious discourses, the great principles of christian duty and hope may be nourished and invigorated in good men, their graces watered as [...] the root, and their souls animated, both to persevere, and improve in holiness. And when we are effectually performing such benevolent offices, so well suiting our immortal natures, to persons whose hearts are cemented with our [...] in the bonds of the most endearing and sacred friendship, it is too little to say, it over-pays the fatigue of our labours; it even swallows up all sense of it, in the most rational and sublime pleasure.

§. 128. An incident occurs to my mind, which happened that evening, which at least for the oddness of it may deserve a place in these memoirs. I had then with me one Thomas Porter, a poor, but very honest and religious man, (now living at Hatfield-Broadoak in Essex,) who is quite unacquainted with letters, so as not to be able to distinguish one from another; yet is master of the contents of the bible in so extraordinary a degree, that he has not only fixed an immense number of texts in his memory, but merely by hearing them quoted in sermons has registered there the chapter and verse, in which these passages are to be found: This is attended with a marvellous facility in directing those that can read, to turn to them, and a most unaccountable talent of fixing on such, as suit almost every imaginable variety of circumstances in common life There are two considerations in his case, which make it the more wonderful: The one, that he is a person of a very low genius, having, besides a stammering which makes his speech almost unintelligible to strangers, so wild and aukward a manner of behaviour that he is frequently taken for an idiot, and seems in many things to be indeed so: The other, that he grow up to manhood in a very licentious course of living, and an entire ignorance of divine things, so that all these exact impressions on his memory have been made in his riper years. I thought it would not be disagreeable to the Colonel, to introduce to him this odd phaaenomenon, which many hundreds of people have had a curiosity to examine: [Page] And among all the strange things I have seen in him, I never remember any which equalled what passed on this occasion. On hearing the colonel's profession, and receiving some hints of his religious character, he ran through a vast variety of scriptures, beginning at the Pentateuch and going on to the Revelation, relating either to the dependance to be fixed on God for the success of military pre [...]rations, or to the instances and promises occurring there [...] his care of good men in the most eminent dangers, or to be encouragement to despise perils and death, while engaged in a good cause, and supported by the views of a happy immortality. I believe, he quoted more than twenty of these passages; and I must freely own, that I know not who could have chose them with greater propriety. If my memory do not deceive me, the last of this catalogue was that from which I afterwards preached on the lamented occasion of this great man's fall: Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life. We were all astonished at so remarkable a fact; and I question not, but that many of my readers will think the memory of it worthy of being thus preserved.

§. 129. But to return to my main subject: The next day after the sermon and conversation of which I have been speaking, I took my last leave of my inestimable friend, after attending him some part of his way northward. The first stage of our journey was to the cottage of that poor, but very religious family, which I had accasion to mention above, as relieved, and indeed in a great measure subsisted, by his charity. And nothing could be more delightful, than to observe the condescension, with which he conversed with these his humble pensioners. We there put up our last united prayers together, and he afterwards expressed, in the strongest terms I ever heard him use on such an occasion, the singular pleasure with which he had joined in them. Indeed it was no small satisfaction to me, to have an opportunity of recommending such a valuable friend to the divine protection and blessing, with that particular freedom, and enlargement on what was peculiar in his circumstances, which hardly any other situation, unless we had been quite alone, could so conveniently have admitted. We went from thence to the table of a person of distinction in the neighbourhood; whose he had an opportunity of shewing, in how decent and graceful a manner [Page] he could unite the Christian and the gentleman, and give conversation an improved and religious turn, without violating any of the rules of polite behaviour, or saying or doing any thing which looked at all constrained or affected. Here we took our last embrace, committing each other to the care of the God of heaven; and the Colonel pursued his journey to the north, where he spent all the remainder of his days.

§. 130. The more I reflect upon this appointment of providence, the more I discern of the beauty and wisdom of it not only as it led directly to that glorious period of life, with which God had determined to honour him, and in which, I think, it becomes all his friends to rejoice; but also, as the retirement on which he entered could not but have a happy tendency to favour his more immediate and compleat preparation for so speedy a remove. To which we may add, that it must probably have a very powerful influence to promote the interests of religion (incomparably the greatest of all interests) among the members of his own family; who must surely edify much by such daily lessons as they received from his lips, when they saw them illustrated and enforced by so admirable an example, and this for two compleat years. It is the more remarkable, as I cannot find from the memoirs of his life in my hands, that he had ever been so long at home since he had a family, or indeed, from his childhood, ever so long at a time in any one place.

§. 131. With how clear a lustre his lamp shone, and with what holy vigour his loins were girded up in the service of his God, in these his latter days, I learn in part from the letters of several excellent persons in the ministry, or in secular life, with whom I have since conversed or corresponded. And in his many letters, dated from Bankt [...]n during this period, I have still farther evidence, how happy he was, amidst those infirmities of body, which his tenderness for me would seldom allow him to mention for it appears from them, what a daily intercourse he kept up with heaven, and what delightful communion with God crowned his at endance on public ordinances, and his sweet hours of devout retirement. He mentions his sacramental opportunities with peculiar relish crying out as in a holy rapture, in reference to one and another of them, ‘Oh how gracious a master do we serve! How pleasant is his service! How rich the entertainments of his love! Yet, Oh how poor, [Page] and cold, are our services!’—But I will not multiply quotations of this sort, after those I have given above, which may be a sufficient specimen of many more in the same strain. This hint may suffice to shew, that the same ardor of soul held out in a great measure to the last; and indeed it seems, that towards the close of life, like the flame of a lamp almost expiring, it sometimes exerted an unusual blaze.

§. 132. He spent much of his time at Bankton in religious solitude; and one most intimately conversant with him assures me, that the traces of that delightful converse with God which he enjoyed in it, might easily be discerned in that solemn yet chearful countenance, with which he often came out of his closer. Yet his exercises there must sometimes have been very mournful, considering the melancholy views which he had of the state of our public affairs. ‘I should be glad,’ says he, (in a letter which he sent me, about the close of the year 1743,) ‘to hear what wise and good people among you think of the present circumstances of things. For my own part, though I thank God I fear nothing for myself my apprehensions for the public are very gloomy, considering the deplorable prevalency of almost all kinds of wickedness amongst us; the natural consequence of the contempt of the gospel. I am daily offering my prayers to God for this sinful land of ours, over which his judgments seem to be gathering; and my strength is sometimes so exhausted with those strong cries and tears, which I pour out before God on this occasion, that I am hardly able to stand when I arise from my knees.’ If we have many remaining to stand in the breach with equal servency, I hope, crying as our provocations are, God will still be intreated for us, and save us.

§. 133. Most of the other letters I had the pleasure of receiving from him after our last separation, are either filled, like those of former years, with tender expressions of affectionate solicitude for my domestic comfort and public usefulness, or relate to the writings I publi [...]d during this time, or to the affairs of his eldest son [...] under my care. But these are things, which are by [...]m [...]s of a nature to be communicated here. It is enou [...] to remark in the general, that the Christian was still mi [...] with all the care of the friend, and the parent.

[Page]§. 134. But I think it incumbent upon me to observe, that during this time, and some preceding years, his attention, ever wakeful to such concerns, was much engaged by some religious appearances, which happened about this time, both in England and Scotland; with regard to which some may be curious to know his sentiments. He communicated them to me with the most unreserved freedom; and I cannot apprehend myself under any engagements to conceal them, [...] I am persuaded that it will be no prejudice to his memory that they should be publicly known.

§. 135. It was from Colonel Gardiner's pen that I received the first notice of that ever memorable scene which w [...] opened at Kilsyth, under the ministry of the Rev Mr. Mac [...] Culloch, in the month of February, 1741-2. He communicated to me the copy of two letters from that eminently favoured servant of God, giving an account of that extraordinary success, which had within a few days accompanied his preaching; when, as I remember, in a little more than a fortnight a hundred and thirty souls, who had before continued in long insensibility under the faithful preaching [...] the gospel, were awakened on a sudden to attend to it, as [...] it had been a new revelation brought down from heave [...] and attested by as astonishing miracles as ever were wrough [...] by Peter or Paul; though they heard it only from a perso [...] under whose ministry they had sat for several years. Struc [...] with a power and majesty in the word of God, which th [...] had never felt before, they crouded his house night and day making their applications to him for spiritual direction and assistance, with an earnestness and solicitude, which floods [...] tears and cries, that swallowed up their own words and his could not sufficiently express. The Colonel mentioned th [...] at first to me ‘as matter of eternal praise, which he kne [...] would rejoice my very soul:’ And when he saw it spr [...] in the neighbouring parts, and observed the glorious refo [...] mation which it produced in the lives of great multitude [...] and the abiding fruits of it for succeeding months and years it increased and confirmed his joy. But the facts relating [...] this matter have been laid before the world in so authentic [...] manner, and the agency of divine grace in them has be [...] so rationally vindicated, and so pathetically represented, [...] what the reverend and judicious Mr. Webster has writte [...] upon that subject, that it is altogether superfluous for me t [...] [Page] [...]dd any thing farther than my hearty prayers, that the work may be as extensive, as it was apparently glorious and [...]vine.

§. 136. It was with great pleasure that he received any [...]lligence of a like kind from England; whether the cler [...] of the established church, or dissenting ministers, whe [...], our own countrymen, or foreigners, were the instru [...]ts of it. And whatever weaknesses or errors might [...]gle themselves with valuable qualities in such as were [...] in such a work, he appeared to love and honor them, [...] proportion to the degree he saw reason to believe their [...]s were devoted to the service of Christ, and their at [...]s owned and succeeded by him. I remember, that [...]tioning one of these gentlemen, who had been remark [...]y successful in his ministry, and seemed to have met with [...]me very unkind usage, he says, "I had rather be that [...] despised persecuted man, to be an instrument in the hand [...]f the Spirit, in converting so many souls, and building [...]p so many in their holy faith, than I would be emperor of the whole world." Yet this steady and judicious [...]tian, (for such he most assuredly was,) at the same time [...] [...]e esteemed a man for his good intention and his wor [...] qualities, did not suffer himself to be hurried away in [...] all the singularity of his sentiments, or to admire his im [...]dences or excesses. On the contrary, he saw and la [...]ted that artifice, which the great father of fraud has [...]ng and so successfully been practising; who, like the [...]mies of Israel, when he cannot entirely prevent the build [...] of God's temple, does as it were offer his assistance to [...]y on the work, that he may thereby get the most effec [...] opportunities of obstructing it. The Colonel often ex [...]sed his astonishment at the wide extremes into which [...]e, whom on the whole he thought very worthy men, [...]e permitted to run in many doctrinal and speculative [...] and discerned how evidently it appeared from hence, [...]t we cannnot argue the truth of any doctrine from the [...]ess of the preacher; since this would be a kind of de [...]onstration, (if I may be allowed the expression) which [...]ght equally prove both parts of a contradiction. Yet when [...] observed, that an high regard to the atonement and right [...]usness of Christ, and to the free grace of God in him, [Page] exerted by the operation of the divine Spirit, was generally common to all who had been peculiarly successful in the conversion and reformation of men, (how widely soev [...] their judgments might differ in other points, and how war [...] ly soever they might oppose each other in consequence [...] that diversity;) it tended greatly to confirm his faith in th [...] principles, as well as to open his heart in love to all of every denomination, who maintained an affectionate regard [...] them. And though what he remarked as to the conduct a [...] success of ministers of the most opposite strains of preachin [...] confirmed him in these sentiments; yet he always esteem [...] and loved virtuous and benevolent men, even where [...] thought them most mistaken in the notions they formed [...] religion, or in the methods by which they attempted to serv [...] it.

§. 137. While I thus represent what all who knew hi [...] must soon have observed of Colonel Gardiner's affectio [...] regard to these peculiar doctrines of our holy religion, it [...] necessary that I should also inform my reader, that it w [...] not his judgment, that the attention of ministers or th [...] hearers should be wholly ingrossed by these, excellent [...] they are; but that all the parts of the scheme of truth an [...] duty should be regarded in their due connection and proportion. Far from that distempered taste which can bear nothing but cordials, it was his deliberate judgment, that t [...] law should be preached, as well as the gospel; and hard [...] any thing gave him greater offence, than the irrevere [...] manner in which some, who have been ignorantly extolle [...] as the most zealous and evangelical preachers, have sometimes been tempted to speak of the former; much inde [...] to the scandal of all consistent and judicious christians. H [...] delighted to be instructed in his duty, and to hear much [...] the inward exercises of the spiritual and divine life. A [...] he always wished, so far as I could observe, to have th [...] topics treated in a rational as well as a spiritual man [...] with solidity and order of thought, with perspicnity [...] weight of expression; as well knowing, that religion is most reasonable service; that God has not chosen idio [...] [...] lunaticks as the instruments, or nonsense as the means, of building up his church; and that though the charge of enthusiasm is often fixed on christianity and its ministers in a wild, undeserved, and indeed (on the whole) enthusiastical [Page] manner, by some of the loudest or most solemn pretenders to reason; yet [...]re is really such a thing as enthusiasm, against which it becomes the true friends of revelation to be diligently on their guard; lest christianity, instead of being exalted, should be greatly corrupted and debased, and all manner of absurdity, both in doctrine and practice, introduced by methods, which (like persecution,) throw truth and falsehood on a level, and render the grossest er [...]rs at once more plausible, and more incurable. He had too much candour and equity, to fix general charges of this nature; but he was really (and I think not vainly) apprehensive that the emissaries and agents of the most corrupt church that ever dishonored the christian name, (by which, [...] will easily be understood, I [...]an that of Rome,) might very possibly insinuate themselves into societies, to which they could no otherwise have access, and make their advan [...]ge of that total resignation of the understanding, and con [...]mpt of reason and learning, which nothing but ignorance, delirium, or knavery can dictate, to lead men blindfold whither it pleased, till it set them down at the foot of an [...]r, where transubstantiation itself is consecrated.

§. 138. I know not where I can more properly introduce another part of the Colonel's character, which, obvious as it was, I have not yet touched upon; I mean, his tenderness to those who were under any spiritual distress; wherein [...] was indeed an example to ministers, in a duty more pe [...]liarly theirs. I have seen many amiable instances of this myself; and I have been informed of many others: One [...] which happened about the time of that awakening in the western parts of Scotland, which I touched upon above; when the reverend Mr. Mac-Laurin, of Glasgow, found occasion to witness to the great propriety, judgment, and feli [...]ity of manner, with which he addressed spiritual consolation to an afflicted soul, who applied to the professor, at a time when he had not an opportunity immediately to give audience to the case. And indeed as long ago as the year 1726, I find him writing to a friend in a strain of tenderness in this regard, which might well have become the most affectionate and experienced pastor. He there congratulates him on some religious enjoyments lately received, (in part, it seems, by his means,) when among others, he has this modest expression; ‘If I have been made any way the [Page] me [...] of doing you good, give [...]e whole glory to God; for he has been willing to shew, that the prayer was entirely of himself, since he has been pleased to make use of so very weak an instrument.’ In the same letter he admonishes his friend, that he should not be too much surprised, if after having been (as he expresses it,) upon the mount he should be brought into the valley again; and reminds him, that ‘we live by faith, and not by sensible assu [...] ance,’ representing, that there are some such full communications from God, as seem almost to swallow up th [...] actings of faith, from whence they take their rise: ‘Wher [...] as when a christian who walks in darkness and se [...] no light, will yet hang (as it were) on the report of a [...] absent Jesus, and’ as one expresses it, in allusion to th [...] story of Jacob and Joseph, ‘can put himself as on the chariot of the promises, to be borne on to him, whom no [...] he sees not; there may be sublimer and more acceptable actings of a pure and strong faith, than in moments which afford the soul a much more rapturous delight.’ This is the substance of what he says in this excellent l [...] ter. Some of the phrases made use of might not perhaps be intelligible to several of my readers, for which reason I do not exactly transcribe them all; But this is plainly and fully his meaning, and most of the words are his own. The sentiment is surely very just and important; and happy would it be for many excellent persons, who through wrong notions of the nature of faith (which was never more misrepresented than now among some,) are perplexin [...] themselves with most groundless doubts and scruples, if it were more generally understood, admitted, and considered.

§. 139. An endeared friend, who was most intimatel [...] conversant with the colonel during the two last years of his life, has favoured me with an account of some little circumstances relating to him; which [...] esteem as precious fra [...] ments, by which the consistent tenor of his character ma [...] be farther illustrated. I shall therefore insert them here without being very solicitous as to the order in which they are introduced.

§. 140. He perceived himself evidently in a very declining state from his first arrival in Britain, and seemed to entertain a fixed apprehension, that he should continue but a [Page] [...]ulk [...] [...]ger in life. "his expected death," says my good [...] [...]ent, "and was delighted with the p [...]pect," which did not g [...] less amiable by a nearer approach. The word of God, with which he had as intimate an acquaintance as most men I ever knew, and on which (especially on the New-Testament) I have heard him make many very [...]dicious and accurate remarks, was still his daily study; [...] it furnished him with matter of frequent conversation, [...]uch to the edification and comfort of those that were about him It was recollected, that among other passages he had [...]ely spoken of the following, as having made a deep impression on his mind! "My soul wait thou only upon God!" He would repeat it again and again, only only only! So plainly did he see, and so deeply did he feel, the vanity of creature confidences and expectations. With the strongest [...]testation would he often mention those words in Isaiah, as verified by long experience: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee; because he trusteth in thee," And with peculiar satisfaction would he utter those heroic words in H [...]bakkuk which he found armour of proof against every fear and every co [...]tingency: "Though the figure shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat [...] the flocks shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: Yet I will rejoice [...]n the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation," The cxlvth Psalm was also spoken of by him with great delight and Dr. Watts's version of it; as well as several other of that excellent person's poetical composures. My [...]d, who transmits to me this account adds the following words; which I desire to insert with the deepest sentiments of unfeigned humility and s [...]lf abasement before God, as most unworthy the honour of co [...]tributing in the least degree to the joys and graces of one so much my superior in every part of the christian character. ‘As the joy with which good men see the happy fruits of their labours, makes a part of the present reward of the servants of God and the friends of Jesus, it must not be omitted, even in a letter to you, that your spiritual hymns were among his most delightful and soul improving repases; particularly those, on beholding transgressors with grief, and Christ's message.’ [Page] What is added concerning my book of the rise and progress of religion, and the terms in which he expressed his esteem of it, I cannot suffer to pass my pen; only desire most sincerely to bless God, that especially by the last chapters of that treatise, I had an opportunity at so great a distance of exhibiting some offices of christian friendship to this excellent person, in the closing scenes of life; which it would have been my greatest joy to have performed in person, had providence permitted me then to have been ne [...]r him.

§. 141. The former of those hymns my correspondent mentions, as having been so agreeable to Colonel Gardiner, I have given the reader above, at the end of Sect. 101. The latter, which is called Christ's message, took its rise from Luke iv. 18, and seq. and is as follows.

I.

Hark! the glad sound! The Saviour comes,

The Saviour promis'd long!

Let ev'ry heart prepare a throne,

And ev'ry voice a song.

II.

On him the Spirit largely pour'd

Exerts its sacred fire:

Wisdom, and might, and zeal, and love,

His holy breast inspire.

III.

He comes, the prisoners to release

In Satan's bondage held

The gates of brass before him burst,

The iron fetters yield.

IV.

He comes from thickest films of vice

To clear the mental ray,

And on the eye-balls of the blind

To pour celestial day.*

V.

He comes, the broken heart to bind,

The bleeding soul to cure;

And with the treasures of his grace

T' inrich the humble poor.

[Page]

VI.

His silver trumpets publish loud

The jub'lee of the Lord;

Our debts are all remitted now,

Our heritage restor'd.

VII.

Our glad hosannahs, Prince of peace,

Thy welcome shall proclaim;

And heaven's eternal arches ring

With thy beloved name.

§. 142. There is one hymn more I shall beg leave to add, plain as it is, which Colonel Gardiner has been heard to mention with particular regard, as expressing the in most sentiments of his soul, and they were undoubtedly so, in the las [...] rational moments of his expiring life. It is called, Christ precious to the believer; and was composed to be sung after a sermon on 1 Pet. ii. 7.

I.

Jesus! I love thy charming name,

'Tis music to my ear:

Fain would I sound it out so loud,

That earth and heav'n should hear.

II.

Yes, Thou art precious to my soul,

My transport, and my trust:

Jewels to thee are gaudy toys,

And gold is sordid dust.

III.

All my capacious pow'rs can wish,

In thee most richly meet:

Nor to my eyes is life so dear,

Nor friendship half so sweet.

IV.

Thy grace still dwells upon my heart,

And sheds its fragrance there;

The noblest balm of all its wounds,

The cordial of its care.

V.

I'll speak the honours of thy name

With my last lab'ring breath;

Then speechless clasp thee in my arms,

The antidote of death.

[Page]§. 143 Those who were intimate with Colonel Gardiner must have observed, how ready he was to give a devotional turn to any subject that occurred And in particular, the spiritual and heave [...]ly disposition of his soul discovered itself in the reflections and improvements which he made when reading history; in which he took a great deal of pleasure, as persons remarkable for their knowledge of mankind, and observation of providence, generally do. I have an instance of this before me, which, though too natural to be at all surprizing, will I dare say be pleasing to the devout mind. He had just been reading, in Rollin's extract from Xenophon, the answer which the lady of Tigranes made, when all the company were extolling Cyrus, and expressing the admiration with which his appearance and behaviour struck them; the question being asked her, what she thought of him? She answered I don't know, I did not observe him. On what then, said one of the company, did you fix your attention? [...] him, replied she, (referring to the generous speech which her husband had just made,) who said he would give a thousand lives to ransom my liberty. "Oh," cried the colonel when reading it, ‘how ought we to fix our eyes and hearts on him, who not in offer, but in reality, gave his own precious life to ransom us from the most dreadful slavery, and from eternal destruction!’ But this is only one instance among a thousand. His heart was so habitually set upon divine things, and he had such a permanent and overflowing sense of the love of Christ, that he could not forbear connecting such reflections, with a multitude of more distant occasions occurring in daily life, where less advanced christians would not have thought of them: And thus, like our great master, he made every little incident a source of devotion, and an instrument of holy zeal.

§. 144. Enfeebled as his constitution was, he was still intent on improving his time to some valuable purposes: And when his friends expostulated with him, that he gave his body so little rest, he used to answer, ‘It will rest long enough in the grave.’

§. 145 The July before his death, he was persuaded [...] take a journey to Scarborough for the recovery of his heal [...] from which he was at least encouraged to expect some little revival. After this he had thoughts of going to London [Page] and designed to have spent part of September at Northampton. The expectation of this was mutually agreeable; but providence saw fit to disconcert the scheme. His love for his friends in these parts occasioned him, to express some regret on his being commanded back: And I am pretty confident, from the manner in which he expressed himself in one of his last letters to me, that he had some more important reasons for wishing an opportunity of making a London journey just at that crisis; which, the reader will remember, was before the rebellion broke out. But as providence determined it otherwise, he acquiesced; and I am well satisfied, that could he have distinctly foreseen the approaching event, so far as it concerned his own person, he would have esteemed it the happiest summons he ever received: While he was at Scarborough, I find by a letter dated from thence, July 26, 1745, that he had been informed of the gaiety which so unseasonably prevailed at Edinburgh, where great multitudes were then spending their time in balls, assemblies, and other gay amusements, little mindful of the rod of God which was then hanging over them: on which occasion he hath this expression: ‘I am greatly surprized, that the people of Edinburgh should be employed in such foolish diversions, when our situation is at present more melancholy than ever I saw it in my life. But there is one thing which I am very sure of, that comforts me, viz. that it shall go well with the righteous, come what will.’

§. 146. Quickly after his return home, the flame burst out, and his regiment was ordered to Stirling. It was in the castle there, that his lady and eldest daughter enjoyed the last happy hours of his company; and I think, it was about eight or ten days before his death, that he parted from them there. A remarkable circumstance attended that parting, which hath been touched upon by surviving friends in more then one of their letters to me. His lady was so affected when she took her last leave of him, that she could not forbear bursting out into a flood of tears, with other marks of unusual emotion. And when he asked her the reason, she urged the apprehension she had of losing such an invaluable friend, amidst the dangers to which he was then called out, as a very sufficient apology. Upon which she took particular notice, that whereas he had generally comforted her on such occasions, by pleading with [Page] her that remarkable hand of providence, which had so frequently in former instances being exerted for his preservation, and that in the greatest extremity, he said nothing of it now; but only replied, in his sententious manner, "We have an eternity to spend together."

§. 147. That heroic contempt of death which had often discovered itself in the midst of former dangers, was manifested now in his discourse with several of his most intimate friends. I have reserved for this place one genuine expression of it many years before, which I thought might be mentioned with some advantage here. In July, 1725, he had been sent to some place, not far from Hamilton, to quell a mutiny among some of our troops. I know not the particular occasion; but I remember to have heard him mention it as so fierce a one, that he scarce ever apprehended himself in a more hazardous circumstance. Yet he quelled it, by his presence alone, and the expostulations he used; evidently putting his life into his hand to do it. The particulars of the story struck me much; but I do not so exactly remember them, as to venture to relate them here. I only observe, that in a letter dated July 16, that year, which I have now before me, and which evidently refers to this event, he writes thus: ‘I have been very busy, hurried about from place to place; but blessed be God, all is over without bloodshed. And pray let me ask, what made you show so much concern for me in your last? Were you afraid, I should get to heaven before you? Or can any evil befall those, who are followers of that which is good?*’

[Page]§. 148. And as these were his sentiments in the vigour of his days, so neither did declining years and the infirmities of a broken constitution on the one hand, nor any desires of enjoying the honours and profits of so high a station, or (what was much more to him,) the converse of the most affectionate of wives and so many amiable children and friends on the other, enervate his spirits in the least: But as he had in former years often expressed it, to me and several others, as his desire, ‘that if it were the will of God, he might have some honourable call to sacrifice his life in defence of religion and the liberties of his country;’ so when it appeared to him most probable that he might be called to it immediately, he met the summons with the greatest readiness. This appears in part from a letter which he wrote to the reverend Mr. Adams of Falkirk, just as he was on marching from Stirling, which was only eight days before his death: "The rebels," says he, are ‘advancing to cross the Firth; but I trust in the Almighty God, who doth whatsoever he pleases, in the armies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth.’ And the same gentleman tells me, that a few days after the date of this, he marched through Falkirk with his regiment; and though he was then in so languishing a state, that he needed his assistance as a secretary to write for some reinforcement, which might put it in his power to make a stand, (as he was very desirous to have done,) he expressed a most genuine and noble contempt of life, when to be exposed in the defence of a worthy cause.

§. 149. These sentiments wrought in him to the last, in the most effectual manner; and he seemed for a while to have infused them into the regiment which he commanded: For they expressed such a spirit in their march from Stirling, that I am assured, the colonel was obliged to exert all his authority to prevent their making incursions on that rebel army, which then lay very near them; and had it been thought proper to send him the reinforcement he requested, none can say what the consequence might have been. But he was ordered to march as fast as possible, to meet Sir John Cope's forces at Dunbar: which he did: And that hasty retreat, in concurrence with the news which they soon after received of the surrender of Edinburgh to the rebels, (either by the treachery or weakness of a few, in opposition to the judgment [Page] of by far the greater and better part of the inhabitants,) strick a panic into both of the regiments of dragoons, which became visible in some very apparent and remarkable circumstances in their behaviour, which I forbear to relate. This affected Colonel Gardiner so much, that on the Thursday before the fatal action at Preston Pans, he intimated to an officer of considerable rank and note, (from whom I had it by a very sure channel of conveyance) that he expected the event would be, as in fact it was. In this view there is all imaginable reason to believe, he had formed his resolution as to his own personal conduct, which was, ‘that he would not, in case of the flight of those under his command, retreat with them;’ by which, as it seemed, he was reasonably apprehensive, he might have stained the honour of his former services, and have given some occasion for the enemy to have spoken reproachfully. He much rather chose, if providence gave him the call, to leave in his death an example of fidelity and bravery, which might very probably be (as in fact it seems indeed to have been,) of much greater importance to his country, than any other service, which in the few days of remaining life he could expect to render it, I conclude these to have been his views, not only from what I knew of his general character and temper, but likewise from some intimations which he gave to a very worthy person from Edinburgh, who visited him the day before the action; to whom he said, ‘I cannot influence the conduct of others, as I could wish; but I have one life to sacrifice to my country's safety, and I shall not spare it;’ or words to that effect.

§. 150. I have heard such a multitude of inconsistent reports of the circumstances of Colonel Gardiner's death, that I had almost despaired of being able to give my reader any particular satisfaction concerning so interesting a scene. But by a happy accident I have very lately had an opportunity of being exactly informed of the whole, by that brave man Mr. John Foster, his faithful servant, (and worthy of the honor of serving such a master,) whom I had seen with him at my house some years before. He attended him in his last hours, and gave me the narration at large; which he would be ready, were it requisite, to attest upon oath. From his mouth I wrote it down with the utmost exactness, and could easily believe from the genuine and affectionate manner in which he related the particulars, that according to his own [Page] striking expression, ‘his eye and his heart were always upon his honoured master during the whole time.*’

§. 151. On Friday, September 20, (the day before the [...]e which transmitted him to his immortal crown) when the whole army was drawn up, I think about noon, the Colonel rode through all the ranks of his own regiment; ad [...]essing them at once in the most respectful and animating [...]nner, both as soldiers, and as christians, to engage them [...]exert themselves couragiously in the service of their coun [...]y, and to neglect nothing that might have a tendency to [...]epare them for whatever event might happen. They seem [...]d much affected with the address, and expressed a very ar [...]nt desire of attacking the enemy immediately: A desire, [...] which he and another very gallant officer of distinguished [...]ank, dignity, and character, both for bravery and contact, would gladly him gratified them, if it had been in the [...]wer of either. He earnestly pressed it on the command [...]g officer, both as the soldiers were then in better spirits, [...]an it could be supposed they would be, after having pas [...]d the night under arms; and also as the circumstance of [...]king an attack would be some encouragement to them, [...]d probably some terror to the enemy, who would have had [...]he disadvantage of standing on the defence; a disadvan [...]ge, with which those wild barbarians (for such most of [...]em were,) perhaps would have been more struck than bet [...]er disciplined troops; especially, when they fought against [...]e laws of their country too. He also apprehended, that [...]y marching to meet them, some advantage might have been [...]cured with regard to the ground; with which, it is na [...]ral to imagine, he must have been perfectly acquainted, is it lay just at his own door, and he had rode over it so ma [...]y hundred times When I m [...]tion these things, I do not [...]etend to be capable of judging, how far this advice was [Page] on the whole right. A variety of circumstances, to me unknown, might make it otherwise. It is certain however, that it was brave. But it was over-ruled in this respect, as it also was in the disposition of the cannon, which he would have had planted in the centre of our small a [...], rather than just before his regiment which was in the [...]ight wing [...] where he was apprehensive the horses, which had not b [...]e [...] in any engagement before, might be thrown inv [...]ne disorder by the discharge so very near them H [...] [...]d [...]his the more, as he thought the attack of the reb [...] might probably be made on the centre of the foot, where [...] there were some brave men, on whose standing he [...]ought under God the success of the day depended. When [...] that he could not carry either of these points nor some others, which out of regard to the common safety he indeed upon with some unusual earnestness, he dropped some intimations of the consequences which he apprehended, an [...] which did in fact follow; and submitting to Providence, spent the remainder of the day in making as good a disposition, as circumstances would allow.*

§ 152. He continued all night under arms, wrapped [...] in his cloak, and generally sheltered under a rick of barley, which happened to be in the field. About three in the morning, he called his domestic servants to him, of which there were four in waiting. He dismissed three of them, with most affectionate christian advice, and such solemn charges relating to the performance of their duty, and the care of their souls, as seemed plainly to intimate that he apprehended it a [...] least very prebable, he was taking his last farewell of them. There is great reason to believe, that he [Page] spent the little remainder of the time, which could not be much above an hour, in those devout exercises of soul, which had so long been habitual to him, and to which so many circumstances did then concur to call him. The army was alarmed by break of day, by the noise of the rebels approach, and the attack was made before sun rise; yet when it was [...]ight enough to discern what passed. As soon as the enemy [...]ame within gun-shot, they made a furious fire; and it is said, that the dragoons which constituted the left wing, immediately fled. The Colonel at the beginning of the onset, which in the whole lasted but a few minutes, received a wound by a bullet in his left breast, which made him give a sudden spring on his saddle; upon which his servant, who had the led horse, would have persuaded him to retreat: But he said, it was only a wound in the flesh; and fought on, though he presently after received a shot in his right thigh. In the mean time it was discerned, that some of the enemy fell by him; and particularly one man, who had made him a treacherous visit but a few days before, with great professions of zeal for the present establishment.

§ 153. Events of this kind pass in less time, than the description of them can be written, or than it can be read. The Colonel was for a few moments supported by his men, and particularly by that worthy person, lieutenant-colonel Whitney, who was shot through the arm here, and a few months after fell nobly in the battle of Falkirk; and by lieutenant West, a man of distinguished bravery; as also by about fifteen dragoons, who stood by him to the last. But after a faint fire, the regiment in general was seized with a pannic; and though their Colonel and some other gallant officers, did what they could to rally them once or twice, they at last took a precipitate flight. And just in the moment when Colonel Gardiner seemed to be making a pause, to deliberate what duty required him to do in such a circumstance, an accident happened, which must I think, in the judgment of every worthy and generous man, be allowed a sufficient apology for exposing his life to so great hazard, when his regiment had left him.* He saw a party of the [Page] [...], who were then bravely fighting near him, and whom he was ordered to support, had no officer to head them; upon which he said eagerly, in the hearing of the person from whom I had this account, ‘Those brave fellows will be out to pieces for want of a commander;’ or words to that effect; Which while he was speaking, he rode up to them, and [...]ed out aloud, "Fire on, my lads, and fear nothing." But just as the words were out of his mouth, an Highlander advanced towards him with a scythe fastened to a long pole, with which he gave him such a deep wound on hi [...] right arm, that his sword dropped out of his hand; and [...] the same time several others coming about him, while he was thus dreadfully intangled with that cruel weapon, he was dragged off from his horse. The moment he fell, another Highlander, who, if the king's evidence at Carlisle may be credited, (as I know not why they should not, though the unhappy creature died denying it,) was one Mac-naught, who was executed about a year after, gave him a stroke, either with a broad-sword, or a Lochabar axe, (for my informant could not exactly distinguish,) on the hinder part of his head, which was the mortal blow. All that his faithful attendant saw farther at this time was, that as his hat was fallen off, he took it in his left hand, and waved it as a signal to him to retreat; and added, what were the last words he ever heard him speak. "Take care of yourself:" Upon which the servant retired.

§ 154. It was reported at Edinburgh on the day of the ba [...]le, by what seemed a considerable authority, that as the Co [...]nel lay in his wounds, he said to a chief of the opposite side, ‘You are fighting for an earthly crown, I am going to receive an heavenly one;’ or something to that purpose. When I preached the sermon, long since printed, on occasion of his death, I had great reason to believe, this report was true; though before the publication of it I began [Page] to be in doubt: And on the whole, after the most accurate enquiry I could possibly make at this distance, I cannot get any convincing evidence of it. Yet I must here observe, that it does not appear impossible, that something of this kind might indeed be uttered by him; as his servant testifies, that he spoke to him after receiving that fatal blow, which would seem most likely to have taken away the power of speech; and as it is certain, he lived several hours after he fell. If therefore any thing of this kind did happen, it must have been just about this instant. But as to the story of his being taken prisoner, and carried to the pretended prince, (who by the way afterwards rode his horse, and entered upon it into Derby) with several other circumstances which were grafted upon that interview, there is the most undoubted evidence of its falsehood. For his attendant mentioned above, assures me, that he himself immediately fled to a mill, at the distance of about two miles from the spot of ground on which the Colonel fell; where he changed his dress, and, disguised like a miller's servant, returned with a cart as soon as possible; which yet was not till near two hours after the engagement. The hurry of the action was then pretty well over, and he found his much honored master, not only plundered of his watch and other things of value, but also stripped of his upper garments and boots; yet still breathing: And adds, that though he were not capable of speech, yet on taking him up he opened his eyes; which makes it something questionable, whether he were altogether insensible. In this condition, and in this manner, he conveyed him to the church of Tranent, from whence he was immediately taken into the minister's house, and laid in bed, where he continued breathing, and frequently groaning, till about eleven in the forenoon; when he took his final leave of pain and sorrow, and undoubtedly rose to those distinguished glories, which are reserved for those who have been so eminently and remarkably faithful unto death.

§. 155. From the moment in which he fell, it was no longer a battle, but a rout and carnage. The cruelties, which the rebels, (as it is generally said, under the command of Lord Elcho) inflicted on some of the king's troops after they had asked quarter, are dreadfully legible on the countenances of many who survived it. They entered Colonel Gardiner's [Page] house, before he was carried off from the field; and, notwithstanding the strict orders which the unhappy Duke of Perth, (whose conduct is said to have been very humane in many instances) gave to the contrary, every thing of value was plundered, to the very curtains of the beds, and hangings of the rooms. His papers were all thrown into the wildest disorder, and his house made an hospital for the reception of those who were wounded in the action.

§. 156. Such was the close of a life, which had been so zealously devoted to God, and filled up with so many honorable services. This was the death of him, who had been so highly favoured by God, in the method by which he was brought back to him after so long and so great an estrangement, and in the progress of so many years, during which (in the expressive phrase of the most ancient of writers,) he had walked with him;—to fall, as God threatened the people of his wrath that they should do, "with tumult, with shouting, and with the sound of the trumpet." (Amos ii. 2.) Several other very worthy, and some of them very eminent persons, shared the same fate; either now in the battle of Preston-Pans, or quickly after in that of Falkirk:* Providence, no doubt, permitting it, to establish our faith in the rewards of an invisible world; as well as to teach us, to cease from man, and fix our dependence on an Almighty arm.

§. 157. The remains of this christian hero (as I believe every reader is now convinced, he may justly be called,) were interred the Tuesday following, Sept. 24, at the parish church at Tranent, where he had usually attended divine service with great solemnity. His obsequies were honoured with the presence of some persons of distinction, who were not afraid of paying that last piece of respect to his memory, though the country was then in the hands of the enemy. But indeed there was no great hazard in this; for his character was so well known, that even they themselves spoke honorably of him, and seemed to join with his friends in lamenting the fall of so brave and so worthy a man.

[Page]§. 158. The remotest posterity will remember, for whom the honour of subduing this unnatural and pernicious rebellion was reserved; and it will endear the person of the illustrious duke of Cumberland, to all but the open, or secret abettors of it in the present age, and consecrate his name to immortal honours among all the friends of religion and liberty who shall arise after as. And I dare say, it will not be imagined, that I at all derogate from his glory, in suggesting, that the memory of that valiant and excellent person whose memoirs I am now concluding, may in some measure have contributed to that signal and compleat victory, with which God was pleased to crown the arms of his royal highness: For the force of such an example is very animating, and a painful consciousness of having deserted such a commander in such extremity must at lead awaken, where there was any spark of generosity an earnest desire to avenge his death on those, who had sacrificed his blood, and that of so many other excellent persons, to the views of their ambition, rapine, or bigotry.

§ 159. The reflections I have made in my funeral sermon on my honoured friend, and in the dedication of it to his worthy and most afflicted lady, supercede many things which might otherwise have properly been added here. I conclude therefore, with humbly acknowledging the wisdom and goodness of that awful providence, which drew so thick a gloom around him in the last hours of his life, that the lustre of his virtues might dart through it with a more vivid and observable ray. It is abundant matter of thankfulness, that so signal a monument of grace and ornament of the christian profession, was raised in our age and country, and spared for so many honourable and useful years. Nor can all the tenderness of the most affectionote friendship, while its sorrows bleed afresh in the view of so tragical a scene, prevent my adoring the gracious appointment of the great Lord of all events, that when the day in which he must have expired without an enemy appeared so very near, the last ebb of his generous blood should be poured out, as a kind of sacred libation, to the liberties of his country, and the honour of his God; that all the other virtues of his character, embalmed as it were by that precious stream, might diffuse around a more extensive fragrancy, and be transmitted to the most remote posterity with that peculiar charm, which they [Page] cannot but derive from their connection with so gallant a fall: An event, (as that blessed apostle, of whose spirit he so deeply drank, has expressed it,) according to his earnest expectation, and his hope, that in him Christ might be glorified in all things whether by his life, or by his death.

APPENDIX. Relating to the COLONEL'S Person.

IN the midst of so many more important articles, I had really forgot to say any thing of the person of Colonel Gardiner, of which nevertheless it may be proper here to add a word or two. It was, as I am informed, in younger life remarkably graceful and amiable: And I can easily believe it, from what I knew him to be, when our acquaintance began; though he was then turned of fifty, and had gone through so many fatigues as well as dangers, which could not but leave some traces on his countenance. He was tall, (I suppose, something more than six foot,) well proportioned, and strongly built: His eyes of a dark grey, and not very large; his forehead pretty high; his nose of a length and height no way remarkable, but very well suited to his other features; his cheeks not very prominent, his mouth moderately large, and his chin rather a little inclining (when I knew him) to be peaked. He had a strong voice, and lively accent; with an air very intriped, yet attempered with much gentleness: And there was something in his manner of address most perfectly easy and obliging, which was in a great measure the result of the great candor and benevolence, of his natural temper; and which, no doubt, was much improved by the deep humility which divine grace had wrought into his heart; as well as having been accustomed from his early youth, to the company of persons of distinguished rank and polite behaviour.

The picture of him, was taken from an original done by Van Deest, (a Dutchman brought into Scotland by general Wade) in the year 1727, which was the 40th of his age; [Page] and is said to have been very like him then, though far from being an exact resemblance of what he was when I had the happiness of being acquainted with him. Perhaps he would have appeared to the greatest advantage of all, could he have been exactly drawn on horseback; as many very good judges, and among the rest the celebrated Mons. Faubert himself, [...]ave spoken of him as one of the compleatest horsemen that [...]as ever been known: And there was indeed something so [...]ingularly graceful in his appearance in that attitude, that it was sufficient (as what is very eminent in its kind generally is,) to strike an eye not formed on any critical rules.

[Page]

POETICAL PIECES on the Death of Colonel GARDINER.

SO animating a subject as the death of such a man, in such circumstances, has occasioned a great deal of poetry. Some of this has already been published; especially one large composition, said to be done by a worthy clergyman in Lincolnshire, in which there are many excellent lines and noble sentiments: But I rather choose to refer to the piece itself, than to insert any extracts from it here. It may be more expedient to oblige my reader with the following copy of verses, and an elegiack poem, composed by two of my valuable friends whose names are annexed. I could not presume to attempt any thing of this kind myself; because I knew, that nothing I was capable of writing could properly express my sense of his worth, or describe the tenderness of my friendship; the sentiments of which will (as I assuredly believe,) mingle themselves with the last ideas which pass through my mind in this world, and perhaps with some of the first which may open upon it in that which is to come.

Verses on the Death of Col. Gardiner. By the Rev. Mr. Benjamin Snowden.

Quis Desi lerio sit Pudor, aut Modus,

Tam c [...]ari Capitis'

HOR.

COULD piety perpetuate human breath,

Or shield one mortal from the chafts of death,

Thou ne'er, illustrious man! thou ne'er hadst been

A pallid corpse on Preston's fatal plain.

Or could her hand, though impotent to save

Consummate worth, redeem it from the grave,

Soon would thy urn resign its sacred trust,

And recent life re-animate thy dust.

But vain the wish.—The savage hand of war—

Oh how shall words the mournful tale declare!

[Page]Too soon the news afflicted friendship hears,

Too soon, alas, confirm'd her bod [...]g fears.

Struck with the sound, unconscious of redress,

She felt thy wounds, and wept severe distress,

A while d [...]ssolv'd in truceless grief she lay,

And mourn'd th' event of that unhappy day,

Which left thee to rentless rage a p [...]y.

At length kind fame suspends our heaving sighs,

And wipes the sorrows from our flowing eyes;

Gives us to know, thine exit well supply'd

Those blooming laurels victory dery'd.

When thy great soul suppress'd each timid moan,

And soar'd triumphant in a dying groan,

Thy fall, which rais [...]d, now calms each wild complaint,

Thy fall, which join'd the hero to the saint.

As o'er th' expiring lamp the quiv'ring flame

Collects its lustre in a brighter gleam,

Thy virtues glimm'ring on the verge of night,

Through the dim shade diffus'd celestial light;

A radiance, death or time can ne'er destroy,

Th' auspicious omen of eternal joy.

Hence ev'ry unavailing grief! No more

As hapless thy removal we deplore.

Thy g [...]shing veins, in every drop they bleed,

Of patriot warrors shed the fruitful seed.

Soon shall the ripen'd harvest rise in arms

To crush rebellion's insolent alarms.

While prosp'rous moments sooth'd through life his way,

Conceal'd from public view the hero lay:

But when affliction clouded his decline,

Is not eclips'd, but made his honours shine;

Gave them to beam conspicuous from the gloom,

And plant unfading trophies round his tomb.

So stars are lost, amidst the blaze of day;

But when the sun withdraws his golden ray.

Refulgent through th' aetherial arch they roll,

And gild the wide expanse from pole to pole.

[Page]

AN ELEGY On the Death of the truly pious and [...]ave COL. JAMES GARDINER, Who was slain by the Rebel For [...], September 21, 1745, In the fatal Action at Preston-Pans.

By the Rev. Mr. THOMAS GIBBONS.

Nam, d [...]um Duelli lati [...], [...]estica

Opprobriorum M [...]a vindice

Excusat Ense, barbararum

Immortuu [...] Aggeribus Cohortum;

Prafecta tandem Colla volubili

Lapsu reclinat. Sed famula prope

Decusque, pr [...]signisque Virtus,

[...]e [...]tanimem s [...]ere Dextra:

Mox, expedites Corpore Maenibus,

Depraeliatrix Gloria S [...]derum

Occurrit, et fulv [...], reclinem

Ire jubet super Astra Curru.

CASIM [...].

I.

COME, Melancholy, from the stony cave

The scoop of Time for thee has made

Under the broad cliff's shade,

Upon the naked shore,

Where warring tempests roar

In concert with the hoarse resounding wave!

Come, but with solemn gait,

With trickling eyes,

And heavy sighs,

And all the 'scutcheon'd pomp of fate;

And bring with thee the cypress, and the yew,

All bath'd and dropping with the mortal dew,

To this sequester'd bow'r;

And let the midnight hour

Be hung in deeper glooms by thee,

And bid each gay idea flee:

[Page]While all the baleful images of woe,

That haunt the marble bust,

Or hover round sepulcher'd dust,

With conscious horrors all my soul o'erflow.

For 'tis no vulgar death

Urania means to mourn;

But in a doleful strain

She bids the harp complain,

And hangs the fun'ral wreath

On Gard'ner's awful urn.

II.

Gard'ner, what various fame

For ever crowns thy name?

Nor is it possible to say.

Or if the saint's, or hero's ray

Shone brightest in that blended blaze,

That form'd thine ample round of praise.

Like Moses on the sacred hill,

How hast thou stood with pleading eyes,

Out-stretching hands, and fervent cries,

Unwearied wrestler with the skies?

Till heav'n, responsive to thy will,

Would all thy largest wishes fill;

Till the high brandish'd bolt aside was thrown,

And the full blessing stream'd in silver murmurs down.

Nor less a Joshua, than a Moses, thou;

For oft in [...]oerty's high strife

Hast thou expos'd thy gen'rous life,

And with impatient ardours on thy brow,

Ru [...]h'd foremost in the horrid van of fight,

Dr [...]ving the troops of tyranny to flight,

U [...]shaken in the noble cause

To pluck her bloody fangs, and break her iron jaws.

III

When Anna sent her chosen chief,

Victorious Marlborough,

To Europe's groans to give relief,

[...] dou [...]b [...]'s overthrow:

R [...]n [...]w [...]'d Ram [...]lia's [...]ented field,

Where [...]all [...] d [...]pt her idle shield

And to the British standard kneel'd,

[Page]Beheld young Gard'ner there.

Young Gard'ner, where the combat mow'd

The falling ranks, and widely strow'd

Destruction and despair,

Wielded serene his youthful arms,

And, kindling at the dire alarms,

Enjoy'd the raging war:

But here, (for steel and flying shot,

Fall chiefly to the hero's lot,)

Swift through his lips the glancing bullet rung,

His lips, on which th' unfinish'd oath was hung;

Nor stopt its wing'd impetuous force

Till through the neck it plough'd its angry course.

Amazing though! that they who life expose,

Where all the thunder of the battle glows,

Who see pale death triumphant ride

Upon the crimson's surging tide,

Scatt'ring his chafts on ev'ry side,

In blasphemy and proud contempt should rise,

And hurl their mad defiance to the skies;

Whither a moment may convey

Their souls, dislodging from their quiv'ring clay,

To take their last inexorable doom,

Big with immortal wrath, and dire despair to come.

IV.

Such Gard'ner was in early youth:

And while the warrior's rays

Beam'd round his head, celestial truth

He spurn'd, and scorn'd her ways:

And, though th' Almighty arm was near,

Made his endanger'd life its care,

And heal'd the burning sores;

Yet vice, collecting with his strength,

Soon, soon bursts out in wilder length,

And like a torrent roars.

Now in the wide enchanting bowl

The hero melts his manly soul;

And now he bolts the shades of night.

With blacker scenes of lewd delight:

Anon in sport he lifts his brow to heav'n,

And swares by the eternal name;

Asks that the bolt may on his head be driven,

[Page]And courts the lagging flame.

So Pharaoh, when the fev'rish blains

No more emboss'd his flesh,

Nor s [...] infection through his veins,

Ass [...]n'd his rage a fresh;

And hard, grew harder still,

And prop'd on his wild will,

Set up the standard of his pride,

Curst Isr'els God and king, and all his plagues defy'd,

V.

But, muse, in softer notes relate,

For softer notes upon thee wait.

How Gard'ner, when his youth had rang'd

These guilty scenes, to heav'n estrang'd,

Paus'd in his mid career, and was divinely chang'd.

That God, whose piercing radiance darts

O'er all our ways, and all our hearts,

The bold transgressor from his throne survey'd,

And thus in accents breathing mildness said:

"Go, Mercy, charg'd with my supreme command,

"Thou fairest daughter thron'd at my right hand,

"Go, wing thy downward race,

"And stop that rebel in his furious way;

"His heart shall thy victorious call obey,

"And take the willing stamp of grace:

"For never shall thy call successless prove,

"And thou lament thy baffled aim,

"If thou but dart thy chosen flame,

"Arm'd with the Saviour's energy of love."

He spoke; and gave th' Almighty nod,

The sanction of th' eternal God:

At once the joyful news is propagated round,

Loud anthems from the golden roofs rebound,

And heav'ns high crystal domes remurmur with the sound.

VI.

Mercy obeys; and from th' empyreal height

Precipitates her glitt'ring flight:

A starry circle sparkled round her head

And a wide rainbow o'er her progress spread.

Muse, sing the wond'rous plan,

And sing the wond'rous hour,

In which the Sov'reign Pow'r

[Page]Th' Almighty work began,

And signaliz'd her arm, and triumph'd o'er the man.

Bent on adult'rous shame

The sinner she beheld;

His bosom burnt with guilty flame,

And at the future joy in secret [...]aptures swell'd:

Enrag'd he curs'd the lazy moon

In her nocturnal tour

That thought his bliss would come too soon,

And clogg'd the midnight hour.

'Twas then, when lust's malignant sway

Had stifled conscience' pang, and smother'd reason's ray,

That Mercy stept between

Th' adult'rer, and his sinful scene;

And painted on his mental sight,

Dress'd round in beams divinely bright,

The Saviour stretch'd upon the tree,

In purple sweats, and dying agony:

(Such was the vision, and the blaze the same,

That Saul, intent on murders, saw.

When Jesus speaking from the radiant flame,

O'erwhelm'd his conscious soul with awe.)

Then thus a voice arrests his ear:

"See Gard'ner, see thy Saviour here!

"And was this wood

"Ting'd in my blood.

"And did I languish in these woes for thee,

And can'st thou plunge these recent wounds in me?"

O'erpowr'd with vast surprize,

A pris'ner of the skies

The swooning champion falls,

And fear, that never yet his soul had shook,

Bedews his limbs, glares wild upon his look,

And all his soul appalls:

But half the agony was unfulfill'd,

Till Mercy from her crystal urn instill'd

Fierce on his heart three burning drops,*

Drops that from Sinai came,

From Sinai, where th' Almighty thunderer forms

His shafted lightnings, and his bolted storms,

[Page]And from whose boiling tops

The wild sulphureous surge runs down in liquid flame.

Stung with th' unsufferable smart,

That fester'd at his heart,

Gard'ner awakes, and round he throws

His ghastly eyes, and scarce he knows

Or if he lives in nature's midnight gloom,

Or, clos'd in hell's unfathomable womb,

Black o'er his head eternal horrors roll,

And the keen gnawing worm devours his inmost soul.

VII.

But when his wand'ring thought had found

Himself a tenant of the ground,

Still, still his conscience felt the flaming wound.

Sudden before his prospect glows

The everlasting gulph of woes;

From the o'er hanging brink he seems to bend,

(The brink, that crumbled as he stood,

And nodded o'er the dreadful flood,)

And down in headlong ruin to descend

To the broad burning waves, and pairs that never end.

He turns; but ah! no friendly hand,

Nor spark of glimm'ring hope, appears

Amidst the raging torment of his fears,

But, outlaw'd from the realms of shining bliss,

He thinks he feels the unextinguish'd fires,

A waving waste of blue ascending spires,

And plunges in the bottomless abyss:

For, oh! his sins in crouding numbers stand,

And each tempts vengeance from th' Almighty hand:

But fiercer o'er the rest ingratitude appears,

That scorn'd the Saviour's love and flaming horrors wears.

But while in sad confusion toss'd,

And tortur'd with despair

He doom'd his soul for ever lost,

The bright aetherial Fair

(For 'twas her kind design

Not to destroy but to refine,)

Amidst the darkness and the storms

Her sacred embassy performs;

For guilt display'd in all its frightful dyes,

[Page]And crimson'd over with redeeming blood,

Draws out the rolling anguish from his eyes,

And all his stubborn soul with low submission bow'd.

'Tis done: O miracle of love!

Not minds below, nor minds above,

Great God, can trace thy mystic ways,

And pay the equal note of praise.

'Tis done: And now with outstretch'd wings

Back to the skies the radiant Pow'r withdrew;

And, as her mounting path she springs,

The silver trump of victory she blows,

In stronger dyes her arch refulgent glows,

And a far streaming glory tracks th' aetherial blue,

VIII

At once abjuring all his sins,

Gard'ner the heav'nly life begins,

And pleads the honours of his God

With irrisistible defence

Against the colour'd arts of eloquence,

Though clouded with his Maker's frown, and crush'd beneath his rod.

But quickly a celestial ray

Shot o'er his soul unclouded day,

And balmy dews, and blooming life were giv'n,

The early antepast of heav'n.

And now what equal words shall paint

How Gard'ner, freed from tyrant lusts,

Nor longer toss'd in passion's gusts,

Felt, spoke, and acted all the saint?

That holy name, which he prophan'd before,

Behold him now with suppliant knee adore;

At morn and ev'n his warm devotions rise,

Like clouds of incense, fragrant to the skies:

No more the grape's nectareous juice

Could tempt beyond a prudent use;

No wanton speech defil'd his tongue;

No deed design'd his neighbour wrong,

But the fair streams of innocence,

And unconfin'd benevolence,

O'er all his life uninterrupted ran.

And through their crystal mirrors shew'd the man.

The num'rous characters he bore

[Page]With a distinguish'd praise be wore,

And subject, soldier, husband, parent, friends

He blended, and ennobled to the end.

Now with seraphic transports fir'd,

The pinions of his zeal aspir'd,

Scarce patient till he broke the mortal shell,

And bid this empty scene, and dusky globe farewell.

Heav'n was his home, and to his home he bent,

And e're the rounds of fatal life were spent,

Thither his passions would divinely roll,

The swift-wing'd heralds of his coming soul.

Peace at his tent would often light, and sing,

And shed the dewy blessings from her wing;

And rills, devolving from the fount above,

Pour'd o'er his heart extatic life and love,

IX.

Thus Gard'ner liv'd; till from the gloomy north

Rebellion, grasping targe and steely arms,

Rush'd, like a mountain boar, impetuous forth,

And shook our realms with horrible alarms;

Rebellion aiming at one wasteful sway

To strike the diadem from Brunswick's head,

Tear liberty, and all her mounds away,

And Popery's o'erwhelming horrors spread.

The news to Gard'ner came,

And fann'd the noble flame,

Which pure Religion, heav'n-born Liberty,

And dauntless Fortitude had rais'd;

And, as the gath'ring terrors thunder'd nigh,

With a redoubled strength the mounting fervors blaz'd.

What, though distemper had subdu'd his limbs,

And age defrauded half the purple streams,

That bloom'd his features o'er,

When in Rebellion's storm before,

He, rising in the glorious cause

Of George's rights, and Britain's Laws,

Swept down the trait'rous files, and Preston swam with gore?

Yet his unbroken soul disdains

Age's dull load of cramp, and pains;

His youthful rage returns,

And for the battle burns:

[Page]Then, springing from Francissa's tender arms,

Dissolv'd in flowing tears,

Oe'rwhelm'd with boding fears,

And only solac'd with the view

That heav'n their friendship would renew;

He, in th' unshaken confidence of pray'r,

Sways the keen flame of his revenging sword

For his eternal, and his earthly Lord,

Serenely meets the dangers wild alarms,

Plants his embattled force, and waits the rushing war.

So Michael,* bent on glorious fight,

Against Satanic rage and might,

Came tow'ring to the field;

Unconscious of a quiv'ring fear,

He saw the foe his dusky horrors rear,

Wave his broad flaming sword, and heave his moony shield,

X.

Not far from where Edina lifts

Her tow'rs into the skies,

Or where the ocean-bounding clifts

In clouded summits rise,

Preston extends her humble cots,

Long, long unknown to same,

But flying routs, and purple spots

Have stamp'd th' eternal shame.

Here, here, (oh could time's brazen pen

Dash the reproach away.

Or, as the day returns again,

Might midnight choak its rays!)

Britania's troops in vain

Oppos'd the Rebel-host,

And fled inglorious o'er the plain,

Their courage wither'd, and their standards lost.

Muse paint the doleful scene

With sighs and tears between;

For sighs and tears should rise

From ev'ry British heart, and gush from all our eyes.

Swift on the loyal van

The yelling furies ran,

Like the wild ocean that has rent

[Page]Its shores, and roars along the continent;

Or the wing'd light'nings livid glare

Darting along th' immeasur'd fields of air.

Confounded at the shock,

The yielding squadrous broke:

And now, (for hell inspir'd the throng,)

The gloomy murd'rers rush'd along;

And fierce the steely blade,

Its horrid circles play'd,

Till hideous cries,

Quiv'ring sighs,

Hopeless screams,

Batter'd limbs,

Bloody streams,

And universal rout deform'd the ground,

Laid waste the British strength, and the wide champion drown'd

"Come on, come on," mad Elcho cries.

And for his murders thanks the skies,

(While the Italian from afar,

Too soft a soul to mix in war,

Enjoying all the guilt, beheld

His bloody harpies tear the field,)

"Ply, ply the thirsty steel,

"Round the full vengeance wheel;

"Each heretic must yield his breath

"That for the Hanoverian brood

"Or lists a sword,

"Or speaks a word;

"Come, gorge your souls with death,

"And drown your steps in blood;

"Think, think what blessful periods roll behind,

"Let London's mighty plunder fill your mind,

"When boundless wealth shall be with boundless empire join'd."

XI.

Gard'ner, with mind elate

Above the rage of fate,

His country's bulwa [...]k stood.

'Midst broken lines of death, and rising waves of blood,

His soul disdains retreat,

Though urg'd by foul defeat,

Now to his scatt'ring friends he calls,

[Page]To wheel again and charge the foe;

Now hurls the wide destroying balls,

Now deals the vengeful blow.

Forsaken and alone,

And [...]orn with gashing wounds.

He hearts the treas'nous shout, he hears the loyal gro [...];

But nought the purpose of his soul confounds.

And still with new delight

He tempts the midmost fight,

Prop'd on his sacred cause, and courage of his own.

Th' embattled ranks of foot he spies

Without a leading chief,

And like a shooting ray, he flies

To lend his brave relief.

Here the broad weapon's forceful sway,

Swung with tempestuous hand,

Plough'd through his flesh its furious way,

And stretch'd him on the strand.

Welt'ring in gore, with fiery fiends beset,

The dying Gard'ner lies;

No gentle hand to wipe the mortal sweat,

And close his swimming eyes.

The unrelenting crew

The hero disarray'd;

But struck at his majestic view,

Their souls were ba [...] dismay'd;

And, had not hell instamp'd its hate,

Their stony eye-balls o'er his fate

Had stream'd with human woe; for heav'nly mild

He o'er their gloomy forms the Christian pardon smil'd.

But not a tear must bathe, or garment shield

His mangled limbs from sight,

Down-trodden in the fight:

While his fair mansion, that o'er tops the field,

The naked murther sees, and trembles from its height.

Still the departing flame of life

Wav'd languishing in doubtful strife;

Till, such his servant's faithful care,

(May heav'ns distinguish'd goodness crown

The goodness to his master shown!)

The wheels slow-moving, from the scenes of war,

To Tranent bore th' expiring chief,

[Page]In sullen sounds remurm'ring to his grief.

Urania, mark the melancholy road,

And with thy tears efface the scatt'ring blood;

Not stop, till on the late reposing bed

(Oh! rather 'tis the fun'ral bier!)

You see the hero's pallid body spread,

And his last anguish hear.

Half-choak'd with clotted gore,

He draws the hollow moan;

Flitting his pulfe, and fix'd his eyes,

All pale and motionless he lies,

And seems to breathe no more.—

Oh! that's the life-dissolving groan:—

Farewel, dear man! for in that pang thy mind

Soars to its God, and leaves the cleg behind.

XII.

Gard'ner is dead!—The bloody trump of fame

Proclaim'd the mighty death;

In ev'ry look the posting rumor came,

And flow on ev'ry breath,

The widow'd partner of his life

The doleful tidings hears,

And silent in stupendous grief,

Her eyes refuse their tears:

Oppress'd beneath th' immeasurable weight,

Her spirit faints away,

As, smpathetic with the hero's fate,

It meant to quit its clay.

The pledges of his love

Their filial duty prove,

And each with tender hands uprears,

With hands all cover'd o'er in tears,

Their mother's sinking head;

And groan resounds to groan

For oh! the best of husbands gone,

The best of fathers dead!

But Gard'ner's death is more than private woe;

Wide and more wide th' increasing sorrows run,

O'er British lands unlimited they go,

And fly across the seas and travel with the sun,

Religion, that from heav'n had bow'd

To watch the scale of fight,

[Page]When holy Gard'ner fell,

Who lov'd, and who adorn'd her cause so well,

Retir'd behind a crimson cloud,

Nor could sustain the sight.

Britania, where she sate

Upon the sea beat-shore

To eye the battle's fate,

Her silver mantle tore:

Then thus, her blushing honours wann'd,

Her sceptre quiv'ring in her hand,

Her laurels wither'd, and her head delin'd,

Ten thousand terrors bod [...]ng in her mind,

She to the deep in bitter wailing griev'd:

While her fall'n helm the trickling drops reciev'd:

"What havock of my martial force

"His this sad morn beheld,

"Torn, gash [...]d, and heap'd without remorse

"Upon the naked field?

"But Gard'ner's death afflicts me most,

"Than whom a chief I could not boast

"More faithful, vigilant, and brave;

"And should across his grave

"An H [...]catomb of Highland brutes be slain,

"They could not recompense his injur'd ghost,

"Nor fully quench my rage, and wipe away my stain."

XI [...]I.

But see, in splendid state

Cherubic convoys come,

And waft the hero from his fate

To his celestial home.

Now, now he sails along,

Encircled with their throng,

(The throng, that clap their mantling wings.

And to loud triumphs strike their strings,)

Thro' liquid seas of day

Ploughing the azure way,

Till to the starry tow'rs the squadrons rise.

The starry tow'rs, thick sown with pearl and gold,

Their adamantine leaves unfold,

And [...]hew the entrance to th' empyreal skies:

Through [...]hem our hero mark'd his road,

And through the wheeling ranks of heav'n

[Page]An unobstructed path was giv'n,

Till he attain'd th' eternal throne of God;

A throne that blaz'd in uncreated beams,

And from its footstool gush'd unnumber'd streams,

Streams, that in everlasting currents roll,

And pour the boundless joy o'er all th' expanded soul.

Well hast thou done, th' Almighty Father spoke;

Well hast thou done, th' exalted Jesus cry'd;

Well hast thou done, (all heav'n the Enge took,)

The saints and angels in their songs reply'd.

And now a robe of spotless white,

But where the Saviour's flowing vein

Had blush'd it with a sanguine stain,

Invests him round: In various light

(For such was the divine command,)

Refulgent on his brows a crown was plac'd;

And a triumphal palm his better hand

With golden blossoms grac'd.

Nigh to the seat of bliss

His mansion was assign'd;

Sorrow and sin forsook his breast,

His weary soul was now at rest.

And life, and love, and extasies

Unbound his secret pow'rs, and overflow'd his mind.

XIV.

Nor has thy life, heroic man been spilt

Without a wrath proportion'd to the guilt;

Enkindled by the cries that rose

From thy dear sacred blood, with those

That shrick'd for vengeance from the brave Munro's,

Who fell a ma [...]ryr'd sacrifice

To cool remorseless butcheries,

Heav'n sends its angel righteously severe,

And from the foe exacts the last arrear.

For when the barb'rous bands,

Thick as the swarn [...]s that black'ned Egypt's strands,

And furious as the winter's rushing rains

Impell'd by whirlwinds thro' the plains,

Had o'er our country roll'd

Young William rose (auspicious name,

Sacred to liberty and fame!)

[Page]And their mad rage controul'd.

Back to their hills and bogs they fled,

(For terror wing'd their nimble speed,)

And howl'd for help in vain:

William pursu'd, and launch'd his vengeful ire,

(As o'er the stubble runs the crackling fire,)

Upon the grov'ling train:

Shudd'ring with horror and despair

With bell'wing pain they rend the air,

Till Culloden's illustrious moor

Groan'd with the heaps of slain, and smoak'd with rebelgore,

Then, muse, suppress thy rising sighs,

And wipe the anguish from thine eyes;

Sing how Rebellion has receiv'd its doom,

How Gard'ner dwells in his eternal home,

And in each British heart has rais'd a lasting tomb.

Notes

*

I suppose this to have been Brigadier General Rue, who had from his childhood a peculiar affection for him.

↵

*

Il me semble, que je ne mange pas mal pour un homme qu [...] devoit mourir si tót

↵

†

It is no small satisfaction to me, since I wrote this, to have received a letter from the Rev Mr. S [...] M [...] of the gospel at [...] island, dated Ja [...] 14, 1 [...]46 [...] he relate, to me this whole [...], as [...] [...]l's own mo [...] [...]bou [...] [...]ur years after [...] the narration. There is not a single circumstance, in which either of our narrations disagree; and every one of the particulars in mine, which seem most astonishing, are attested by this, and sometimes in stronger words; one only excepted, on which I shall add a short remark when I come to it. As this letter was written near lady Frances Gardiner, at her desire, and attended with a postscript from her own hand, this is in effect a sufficient attestation, how agreeable it was to those accounts which she must have often heard the Colonel give of this matter.

↵

†

Mr. Spears, in the letter mentioned above, where he introduces the Colonel telling his own story, has these words: ‘All of a sudden there was presented in a very lively manner to my view or to my mind, a representation of my glorious Redeemer, &c."—And this gentleman adds, in a parenthesis, It was so lively and striking, that he could not tell, whether it was to his bodily eyes, or to those of his mind.’ This makes me think, that what I had said to him on the Phaenomena of visions, apparitions, &c. [as being, when most real, supernatural impressions on the imagination, rather than attended with any external object,] had some influence upon him. Yet still it is evident, he looked upon this as a vision, whether it were before the eyes, or in the mind, and not as a dream.

↵

*

N. B. Where I make any extracts as from Colonel Gardiner's letters, they are either from originals, which I have in my own hands, or from copies, which were transmitted to me from persons of undoubted credit, chiefly by the right honorable the lady Frances Gardiner, through the hand of the Rev. Mr. Webster, one of the ministers of Edinburgh. This I the rather mention, because some letters have been brought to me as Colonel Gardiner's, concerning which, I have not only been very dubious, but morally certain, that they could not have been written by him. I have also heard of many, who have been fond of assuring the world, that they were well acquainted with him, and were near him when he fell; whose reports have been most inconsistent with each other, as well as contrary to that testimony relating to the circumstances of his death, which, on the whole, appeared to me beyond controversy the most natural and authentic; from whence therefore, I shall take my account of that affecting scene.

↵

*

Mr. Spears ex [...]sses this wonderful circumstance in these remarkable words: ‘I was (said the colonel to me,) effectually cured of all inclination to that sin I was so strongly addicted to, that I thought nothing but shooting me through the [...]ead could have cured me of it; and all desire and inclination to it was removed, as entirely as if it had been a sucking-child; nor did the temptation return to this day.’ Mr. Webster's words on the same subject [...] these: ‘One thing I have heard the Colonel frequently say, that he was much addicted to impurity before his acquaintance with religion; but that so soon as he was enlightened from above, he felt the power of the Holy Ghost changing his na [...]e so wonderfully, that his sanctification in this respect seemed more remarkable, than in any other.’ On which that worthy person makes this very reasonable reflection: ‘So th [...] [...]ough a change of such a polluted nature, evidenced by the most unblemished walk and conversation for a long course of years, demonstrates indeed the power of the highest, and leaves no room to doubt of its reality.’ Mr. Spears [...] this happened in three days time: but from what I can [...]collect, all that the Colonel could mean by that expression, if [...] used it (as I conclude he did,) was, that he began to make the observation in the space of three days; whereas, during that time, [...] thoughts were so taken up with the wonderful views presented to his mind, that he did not immediately attend to it. If [...] had within the first three days any temptation to seek some ease from the anguish of his mind, in returning to former sensualities, it is a circumstance he did not mention to me; and by what I can recollect of the strain of his discourse, he intimated, if he did not express the contrary.

↵

*

His words are these: ‘I have read over a vast number of the Colonel's letters, and have not found any one of them, however short, and writ in the most passing manner, even when posting, but what is expressive of the most passionate breathings towards his God and Saviour. If the letter consists but of two sentences, religion is not forgotten; which doubtless deserves to be carefully remarked, as the most uncontested evidence of a pious mind, ever under the warmest impressions of divine things.’

↵

*

The ingenious and pious Mr. Grove, (who I think was as little suspected of running into enthusiastical extreams, as most divines I could name,) has a noble passage to this purpose, in the sixth volume of his posthumous works, page 40, 41, which respect to the memory of both these excellent persons inclines me to insert here. "How often are good thoughts suggested," (viz. to the pure in heart,) ‘Heavenly affections kindled, and inflamed? How often is the christian prompted to holy actions, drawn to his duty, restored, quickened, persuaded, in such a manner, that he would be unjust to the Spirit of God to question his agency in the whole? Yes, oh my soul, there is a Supreme Being, who governs the world, and is present with it, who takes up his more special habitation in good men, and is nigh to all who call upon him, to sanctify, and assist them! Hast thou not felt him, oh my soul, like another soul, actuating thy faculties, exalting thy views, purifying thy passions, exciting thy graces, and begetting in thee an abhorrence of sin, and a love of holiness? And is not all this an argument of his presence, as truly as if thou didst see him?’

↵

*

Bishop Bull has these remarkable words ‘Although I am no doater on dreams, yet I verily belive, that some dreams are monitory, above the power of fancy, and impressed upon us by some superior influence. For of such dreams we have plain and undeniable instances in history, both sacred and p [...]fane, and in our own age and observation. Nor shall I so value the laughter of scepticks, and the scoffs of the opicureans, as to be ashamed to profess, that I myself have had some convincing experimen [...]s of such impressions.’ Bishop Bull's serm. and disc Vol. II. pag. 489, 490.

↵

†

If I mistake not, the same bishop Ken is the author of a midnight hymn, concluding with these words:

"May my aetherial Guardian kindly spread

"His wings, and from the tempter screen my head;

"Grant of celestial light some piercing beams,

"To bless my sleep, and sanctify my dreams!"

As he certainly was of those exactly parallal lines:

"Oh may my Guardian, while I sleep,

"Close to my bed his vigils keep:

"His love angelical distill,

"To stop the avenues of ill!

"May he celestial joys rehearse,

"And thought to thought with me converse!"

↵

*

It is observable, that the money, which was forfeited [...] this account by his own officers, whom he never spared, or [...] any others of his soldiers, who rather chose to pay them than submit to corporal punishment, was by the colonel's order laid [...] in bank, till some of the private men fell sick; and then it w [...] laid out, in providing them with proper help and accommodati [...] in their distress.

↵

*

N. B. This alluded to the subject of the sermon the day before, which was 1 Pet. 1.8.

↵

*

This Stanza is mostly borrowed from Mr. Pope.

↵

*

I doubt not, but this will remind some of my readers of that noble speech of Zuinglius, when (according to the usage of that country,) attending his flock to a battle in which their religion and libertie, were all at stake, on his receiving a mortal wound by a bullet, of which he soon expired, while his friends were in all the first astonishment of grief, he bravely said as he was dying, ‘Ecquid hoc infortunii? Is this to be reckoned a misfortune?’ How many of our deists would have celebrated such a sentence, if it had come from the lips of an ancient Roman▪ strange, that the name of Christ should be so odious, that the brightest virtues of his followers should be despised for his sake▪ But so it is; and so our master told us, it would be: And our faith is in this connection confirmed by those, that strive most to overthrow it.

↵

*

Just as I am putting the last hand to these memoirs, March [...], 1746-7, I have met with a corporal in Colonel L [...]lles's re [...]met, who was also an eye-witness to what happened [...] Prest [...]-Pans on the day of the battle, and the day before. And the account he has given me of some memorable particulars is so exactly agreeable to that which I received from Mr. Forster, that [...] would much corroborate his testimony, if there were not so [...]any other considerations to render it convincing.

↵

*

Several of these circumstances have since been confirmed by the concurrent testimony of another very credible person, Mr. Robert Douglas, (now a surgeon in the navy,) who was a volunteer at Edinburgh just before the rebels entered the place; who saw Colonel Gardiner come from Haddington to the field of battle the day before the action in a chaise, being (as from that circumstance he supposed,) in so weak a state that he could not well endure the fatigue of riding on horse-back. He observed Colonel Gardiner in discourse with several officers, the evening before the engagement; at which time, it was afterwards reported, he gave his advice to attack the rebels: And when it was over-ruled, he afterwards saw the Colonel walk by himself [...] a very pensive manner.

↵

*

The Colonel, who was well acqainted with military history, might possibly remember, that in the battle at Blenheim, the illustrious Prince Eugene, when the horse of the wing he commanded had run away thrice, charged at the head of the foot, and thereby greatly contributed to the glorious success of the day. At least such an example may conduce to vindicate that noble ardour, which, amidst all the applauses of his country, some have been so cool and so critical as to blame. For my own part, I thank God, that I am not called to apologize for his following his troops in their flight; which I feel would have been a much harder task; and which, dear as he was to me, would have grieved me much more than his death, with these heroic circumstances attending it.

↵

*

Of these none were more honourable than those illustrious brothers, Sir Robert Munro, and Doctor Munro; whose tragical but glorious fate was also shared quickly after by a third hero of the family, captain Munro of Culcair [...], brother to Sir Robert and the Doctor.

↵

*

See Milton's Paradise lost, E. xi, Lin. 416.

↵

*

Milton's Paradise Lost, B. vi. L. 225.

↵

§

§

§

[Page]

THE CHRISTIAN WARRIOR ANIMATED AND CROWNED: A SERMON Occasioned by the HEROIC DEATH of the Honourable COL. JAMES GARDINER, Who was slain in the Battle at PRESTON-PANS, September 21, 1745.

Preached at NORTHAMPTON, October 13.

BY P. DODDRIDGE, D.D.

—Ille Timorum

Maximus [...]aud urget Lethi Metus:—

—Ignavum REDITURAE parcere Vitae.

LUCAN.

PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED AND SOLD BY STEWART & COCHRAN, No. 34, SOUTH SECOND-STREET. M, DCC, XCV

[Page]

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY FRANCES GARDINER.

MADAM,

THE intimate knowledge I had of Colonel Gardiner's private as well as public character, and of that indeared friendship which so long subsisted between him and your ladyship, makes me more sensible than most others can be, both of the inexpressible loss you have sustained, and of the exquisite sense you have of it. I might, in some degree, argue what you felt from the agony with which my own heart was torn by that ever to be lamented stroke, which deprived the nation, and the church, of so great an ornament and blessing: And indeed, madam, I was so sensible of your calamity, as to be ready in my first thoughts to congratulate you, when I heard the report which at first preprevailed, that you died under the shock. Yet cooler reflections teaches me, on many accounts, to rejoice that your ladyship has survived that dearest part of yourself; though after having been so lovely and pleasant in your lives, it would have been matter of personal rejoicing, in death not to have been divided. The numerous and promising offspring with which God hath blessed your marriage, had evidently the highest interest in the continued life of so pious and affectionate a mother: And I hope, and assuredly believe, there was a more important, and to you a much dearer interest concerned, as God may be, and is signally honoured by the manner in which you bear this heaviest and most terrible stroke of his paternal rod.

God had been pleased, madam, to make you both eminent for a variety of graces; and he has proportionably distinguished you both in the opportunity he has given you of [Page] exercising those, which suit the most painful scenes, that can attend a pious and an honourable life. But when I consider, what it is, to have lost such a man, at such time, and in such circumstances, I must needs declare, that brave and heroic as the death of the colonel was, your ladyship's part is beyond all comparison the hardest. Yet even here has the grace of Christ been sufficient for you; and I join with your ladyship in adoring the power and faithfulness of him, who has here so remarkably shewn, that he forgets not his promise to all his people of a strength proportionable to their days; that they may be enabled to glorify him in the hottest furnace, into which it is possible they should be cast.

To hear, (as I have heard from several persons of distinguished character, who have lately had the happiness of being near your ladyship,) of that meek resignation to the divine will, of that calm patience, of that christian courage, with which, in so weak a state of health and spirits, you have supported under this awful providence, has given me great pleasure but no surprize. So near a relation to so brave a man might have taught some degree of fortitude, to a soul less susceptible of it than your ladyship's, Nor is there any doubt, but that the prayers he has so long been laying up in store for you, especially since the decay of his constitution gave him reason to expect a speedy remove, will assuredly at such a season come into remembrance before God. And above all, the sublime principles of the christian religion, so deeply imbibed into your own heart as well as his, will not fail to exert their energy on such an occasion. These, madam, will teach you to view the hand of a wise, a righteous, and a gracious God in this event; and will shew you, that a friendship founded on such a basis, so very indearing, and so closely cemented, as that which has been here for many years a blessing to you both, can know only a very short interruption, and will soon grow up into a union infinitely nobler and more delightful, which never shall be liable to any separation.

In the mean time, madam, it may comfort us not a little under the sense of our present loss, to think what religious improvement we may gain by it, if we are not wanting to ourselves: And happy shall we be indeed, if we so hear the rod, as to receive the instructions it so naturally suggests and in forces. Persons of any serious reflection will learn from [Page] this awful event, how little we can judge of the divine favour by the visible dispensations of providence here: They will learn, (and it may be of great importance to consider it, just in such a crisis as this,) that no distinguished degree of piety can secure the very best of men from the sword of a common enemy: And they will see (written, alas, in characters of the most precious blood, that war ever spilt in our island,) the vanity of the surest protectors and comforters which mortality can afford, at a time when they are most needed.

These are general instructions, which I hope thousands will receive, on this universally lamented occasion: But to you, madam, and to me, and to all that were honoured with the most intimate friendship of this christian hero, his death has a peculiar voice. Whilst it leads us back into so many past scenes of delight, in the remembrance of which we now pour out our souls within us, it calls aloud, amidst all this tender distress, for a tribute of humble thankfulness to God, that ever we enjoyed such a friend, and especially in such an intimacy of mutual affection; and that we had an opportunity of observing, in so many instances, the secret re [...]es of a heart, which God had enriched, adorned, and ennobled with so much of his own image, and such abundant communications of his grace: It calls for our redoubled diligence and resolution, in imitating that bright assemblage of virtues, which shone so resplendent in our illustrious friend: And surely it must, by a kind of irresistible influence mortify our affections to this impoverished world; and must cause nature to concur with grace, in raising our hearts upwards to that glorious world, where he dwells triumphant and immortal, and waits our arrival with an ardor of pure and elevated love, which it was impossible for death to quench.

Next to these views, nothing can give your ladyship greater satisfaction, than to reflect, how happy you made the amiable consort you have lost, in that intimate relation you so long bore to each other; in which, I well know, that growing years ripened and increased your mutual esteem and friendship. Nor will your generous heart be insensible of that pleasure, which may arise from reflecting, that the manner of his death (tho' in itself so terrible, that we dare not trust imagination with the particular review,) was to him, in those circumstances, most glorious to religion, highly [Page] ornamental, and to his country (great as its loss is,) on various accounts beneficial. For very far be it from us to think, that Colonel Gardiner, tho' fallen by the weapons of rebellion and treason, has sought and died in vain. I trust in God, that so her [...]ic a behaviour will inspire our warriors with augmented courage, now they are called to exert it in a cause, the most noble and important that can ever be in question, the cause of our laws our liberty and religion▪ I trust that all who keep up a correspondence with heaven by prayer, will renew their intercession for this bleeding land with increasing fervour, now we have lost one who stood in the breach with such unwearied importunity. And I am well assured, that of the multitudes who lay up his memory in their inmost hearts with veneration and love, not a few will be often joining their most affectionate prayers to God, for your ladyship, and the dear rising branches of your family, with those which you may, in consequence of a thousand obligations, always expect from

MADAM,

Your ladyship's most faithful and obedient humble servant, P. DODDRIDGE.

Northampton Nov. 27, 174 [...]

§

[Page]

REV. ii. 10. latter Part.

—Be thou faithful unto Death, and I will give thee a Crown of Life.

IT is a glory peculiar to the Christian religion, that it is capable of yielding joy and triumph to the mind, amidst calamities, in which the strength of nature, and of a philosophy that has no higher a support, can hardly give it serenity, or even patience. Those boasted aids are but like a candle in some tempestuous night, which how artificially soever it may be fenced in, is often extinguished amidst the storm, in which it should guide and chear the traveller, or the mariner, whom it leaves on a sudden, in darkness, horror, and fear: while the consolation of the gospel, like the sun, makes a sure day even when behind the thickest cloud, and soon emerges from it with an accession of more sensible lustre.

The observation is verified in these words, considered in connection with that awful providence, which has this day determined my thoughts to fix upon them, as the subject of my discourse; the fall of that truly great and good man, Col. Gardiner: the endearing tenderness of whose friendship would have rendered his death an unspeakable calamity to me, had his character been only of the common standard; as on the other hand, the exalted excellency of his character makes his death to be lamented by thousands who were not happy in any peculiar intimacy or personal acquaintance with him.

While we mourn the brave warrior, the exemplary Christian, and the affectionate friend; lost to ourselves and our country, to the church and the world, at a time when we most needed all the defence of his bravery, all the edification of his example, all the comfort of his converse: struck with the various and aggravated sorrow of so sudden, and so terrible a blow methinks there is but one voice that can chear us, which is this of the great Captain of our salvation, so lately addressing him, and still addressing us, in these comprehensive and animated words; "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."

[Page]With regard to the connection of them, it may be sufficient to observe, that our Lord in all these seven epistles to the Asiatic churches represents the Christian life as a warfare, and the blessings of the future state as rewards to be bestowed on conquerors. "To him that overcometh, will I give" such and such royal donatives. Pursuing the same allegory, he warns the church of Smyrna of an approaching combat, which should be attended with some severe circumstances. Some of them were to become captives: "the devil shall cast some of you into prison:" and though the power of the enemy was to be limited, in its extent as well as its duration, to the tribulation of ten days, it seems to be implied, that while many were harrassed and distressed during that time, some of them should before the close of it be called to resist unto blood. But their great Leader furnishes them with suitable armour, and proportionable courage, by this gracious assurance, which it is our present business farther to contemplate: "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life."

In which words you naturally observe a charge,—and a promise by which it is inforced—I shall briefly illustrate each, and then conclude with some reflections upon the whole.

FIRST, I am to open the charge here given: "Be thou faithful unto death."

Concerning which I would observe, that though it is immediately addressed to the church at Smyrna, yet the nature of the thing and numberless passages of the divine word concur to prove, that it is common in its obligation, to all Christians, and indeed to all men.

I shall not be large in explaining the nature of faithfulness in general; concerning which I might shew you, that the word here rendered faithful has sometimes a relation to the testimony which God has given us, and sometimes to some trust that he has reposed in us. In the former sense, it is properly rendered believing, and opposed to infidelity: "Be not faithless, but believing."* In the latter, it is opposed to injustice: "He that is faithful in the which is least, is falthful also in much;" whereas "he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much"† And it is in reference to this sense of it, that our Lord represents himself, as saying to the man who had improved his talents aright, "Well [Page] done good and faithful servant."* Our deceased friend was so remarkably faithful in both these senses; so ready to admit, and so zealous to defend "the faith once delivered to the saints;" and so active in improving those various talents, with which, in mercy to many others as well as to himself, God had entrusted him; that it was very natural to touch upon these significations of the word, though it has here a more particular view to another virtue, for which he was so illustriously conspicuous; I mean, the courageous fidelity of a soldier in his warfare.

In this sense of the word, it is opposed to treachery or cowardice desertion or disobedience to military orders. And thus it is used elsewhere in the same book of the Revelation, when speaking of those who war under the banner of the Lamb, the King of kings, and Lord of lords, the inspired writer tells us, "they are called, and chosen, and faithful,"† a select body of brave and valiant soldiers.

This hint will also fix the easiest and plainest sense, in which the persons, to whom the text is addressed, are required to be faithful unto death: which, though it does indeed in general imply, a patient continuance in well-doing,‖ in whatever scenes of life divine Providence may place us; yet does especially refer to martial bravery, and express a readiness to face death in its most terrible forms, when our great General shall lead us on to it. You well know this to be an indispensable condition of our being acknowledged by him in the day of his final triumph: and of this he warned those that gathered around him, when he was first raising his army, under the greatest disadvantages in outward appearance; expressly and plainly telling them, that they must be content to follow him to martyrdom, to follow him to crucifixion, when they receive the word of command to do it; or that all their profession of regard to him would be in vain. "If any man," says he, "will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me:"§ For "he that loveth his own life more than me, is not worthy of me;"¶ he does not deserve the honour of bearing my name, and passing for one of my soldiers; indeed he cannot on any terms be my disciple.**

This therefore is in effect the language of our Lord, when [Page] he says, "Be thou faithful unto death:" It is as if he had said, ‘Remember, all you of Smyrna, or of any other place and country, that call yourselves Christians, throughout all generations, that you were by baptism inlisted under my banners: Remember, that you have as it were sealed and subscribed your engagement to me, by every sacrament you have since attended;’ (as indeed it is well known, the word sacrament originally signifies a military oath, which soldiers took as a pledge of fidelity to their general:) ‘Remember therefore, that you are ever to continue with me, and to march forward under my direction, whatever hardships and fatigues may lie in the way. And remember, that if I lead you on to the most formidable combat, you must cheerfully obey the word of command, and charge boldly, though you should immediately die, whether by the sword, or by fire. Should you dare to flee, I am myself your enemy; and the weapons which I bear, would justly be levelled at your own traitorous heads. But if you bravely follow me, I know how to make you ample amends, even though you fall in the action. When no human power and gratitude can reach you, it is my glorious prerogative to engage, that to those who are thus faithful unto death, I will give a crown of life.’ We are therefore,

SECONDLY, To consider the Promise, by which the Charge is enforced: "I will give thee a crown of life."

And here I might observe,—a Crown of Life is the glorious reward proposed,—and it is to be received from the hand of Christ.

1. A Crown of Life is the reward proposed: which we are sure in this connection implies, both grandeur, and felicity, here, though rarely connected together.

There is, no doubt, an allusion in these words, to the ancient, and I think very prudent custom, of animating the bravery of soldiers by honorary rewards, and particularly by crowns, sometimes of laurel, and sometimes, more rarely, of silver or gold; which they were permitted to wear on public occasions, and in consequence of receiving which they were sometimes intitled to some peculiar immunities But here our Lord Jesus Christ, conscious of his own divine power and prerogative, speaks with a dignity and elevation, which no earthly prince or commander could ever assume; promising a crown of life, and that (as was observed before) even to [Page] those who should fall in the battle: A crown of life in the highest sense; not only one, which should ever be fresh and fair, but which should give immortality to the happy brow it adorned; and be for ever worn, not only as the monument of bravery and victory, but as the ensign of royalty too: A crown connected with a kingdom, and with what no other kingdom can give, perpetual life to enjoy it; perpetual youth and vigour to relish all its delights. And this is agreeable to the language of other scriptures, where we read of "the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him;* a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give;† a crown of glory, which fadeth not away."§ We may also observe,

2. That it is said to be given by Christ.

This some pious commentators have explained, as intimating, that it is the gift of the Redeemer's free and unmerited grace, and not a retribution due to the merit of him that receiveth it. And this is an undoubted truth, which it is of the highest importance to acknowledge and consider. The proper wages of sin, is death; but eternal life is (in opposition to wages) "the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord."‖ We should humbly own it every day, that there is no proportion between the value of our services, and the crown which we expect to receive: should own, that it is mercy that pardons our sins, and grace that accepts our services; much more, that crowns them. Grace, grace, shall (as it were) be engraven upon that crown, in characters large and indelible. Nor will that inscription diminish its lustre, or impair the pleasure with which we shall receive it. I could not forbear mentioning this thought, as a truth of the utmost importance, which stands on the firmest basis of very many express scriptures; a truth, of which perhaps no man living had ever a deeper sense, than our deceased friend. But I mention it thus obliquely, because it may be doubted whether we can justly argue it from hence; since the word give is sometimes used for rendering a retribution justly due, and that in instances where grace and favour have, in propriety of speech, no concern at all.¶

[Page]But it is certain, that this expression, "I will give thee a crown of life," is intended to lead our thoughts to this important circumstance; that this crown is to be received from the hand of Christ himself. And the apostle Paul evidently refers to the same circumstance, in terms which shew how much he entered into the spirit of the thought, when he says, "The Lord the righteous Judge shall give it me:"* He himself, the great Judge of the contest, whose eye [...]itnesses the whole course of it, whose decision cannot err, and from whose sentence there is no appeal: Alluding to the judge who presided in the Grecian games, who was always a person of rank and eminence, and himself reached forth the reward to him who overcame in them.

So that on the whole, when our Lord Jesus Christ says, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life," methinks our devout meditations may expatiate upon the words, in some such paraphrase as this. It is as if he had said to you, and to me, and to all his people, ‘Oh my faithful soldiers, fear not death in its most terrible array, for you are immortal. Fear not them that can kill the body;"† You have a nobler part, which they cannot reach; and I will undertake, not only for its rescue, but its happiness. I will answer for it, on the honour of my royal word, that it shall live in a state of noble enlargement, of triumphant joy. Think on me: I am he that liveth, though I was dead; and behold I am alive for evermore:§ And because I live, you shall live also;‖ shall exist in a state, that deserves the great and honourable name of Life; so that earth in all its lustre and pleasure, when compared with it, is but as a scene of death, or at best as an amusing dream when one awaketh.¶’

We may also consider him, as pursuing this animating address, and saying, ‘My brave companions in tribulation and patience, you shall not only live, but reign. Think not, thou good soldier, who art now fighting under my banner, that thy general will wear his honours alone. If I have my crown, if I have my triumph, be assured that thou also shalt have thine. Thou mayest indeed seem to perish in the combat, and thy friends may mourn, and thine enemies insult, as if thou wert utterly cut off. But [Page] behold, true victory spreads over thee her golden wing, and holds out, not a garland of fading flowers or leaves, but a crown that shall keep its lustre, when all the costliest gems on earth are melted in the general burning; yea, when the luminaries of heaven are extinguished, and the sun and stars fade away in their orbs.’

"Nor will I," does he seem to say, ‘send thee this crown by some inferior hand; not even by the noblest angel, that waits on the throne I have now ascended. Thou shalt receive it from mine own hand;’ (from that hand, which would make the least gift valuable: What a dignity then will it add to the greatest!) ‘Nor will I myself confer this reward in private; it shall be given with the most magnificent solemnity. Thou shalt be brought to me before the assembled world; thy name shall be called over; thou shalt appear, and I will own thee, and crown thee, in public view. Thy friends shall see it with raptures of joy, and congratulate an honour in which they shall also share. Thine enemies shall see it with envy and with rage, to increase their confusion and misery: They shall see, that while by their malicious assaults they were endeavouring to destroy thee, they were only establishing thy throne, and brightening the lustre, which shall for ever adorn thy brow; while theirs is blasted with the thunder of resistless wrath, and deep engraven with the indelible marks of vengeance. This crown shalt thou for ever wear, as the perpetual token of my esteem and affection. Nor shall it be merely a shining ornament: A rich revenue, a glorious authority, goes along with it. Thou shal [...] reign for ever and ever;* and be a king, as well as a priest, unto God.†’

They who enter by a lively faith into the import of these glorious words, will (I doubt not) pardon my having expatiated so largely upon them. "We have believed and therefore have we spoken:"§ And I question not, but that many of you have in the course of this representation prevented me in some of the reflections, which naturally arise from such a subject. Yet it may not be improper to assist your devout meditations upon them,

(1.) What reason have we to adore the grace of our blessed Redeemer, which prepares and bestows such rewards as these!

[Page]While we hear him saying, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life;" methinks it is but natural for each of our hearts to answer, ‘Lord, dost thou speak of giving a crown, a crown of life and glory to me! Too great, too great, might the favour seem if I, who have so often lifted up my rebellious hand against thy throne, might be allowed to lay down this guilty head in the dust, and lose the memory of my treasons, and the sense of my punishment together, in everlasting forgetfulness. And is such a crown prepared, and wilt thou my injured sovereign, who mightest so justly arm thyself with vengeance against me, bestow this crown with thine own hand; with all these other circumstances of dignity, so as even to make my triumphs thine own!—What is my strictest fidelity to thee? though I do indeed (as I humbly desire that I may,) continue faithful unto death, I am yet but an unprofitable servant; I have done no more than my duty.§ I have pursued thy work, in thy strength; and, in consequence of that love which thou hast put into my heart, it hath been its own reward: and dost thou thus crown one favour with another!—Blessed Jesus, I would with all humility lay that crown at thy feet, acknowledging before thee, and the whole world, (as I shall at length do in a more expressive form,) that it is not only the gift of thy love, but the purchase of thy blood. Never, never had I beheld it, otherwise than at an unapproachable distance, as an aggravation of my misery and despair, hadst not thou worn another crown, a crown of infamy and of thorns. The gems which must for ever adorn my temples, were formed from those precious drops, that once trickled down thine; and all the splendor of my robes of triumph is owing to their being washed in the blood of the Lamb.’ ‖ With what pleasing wonder may we pursue the thought! And while it employs our mind,

(2.) How justly may this awaken a generous ambition to secure this crown to ourselves!

Dearly as it was purchased by our blessed Redeemer, it is most freely offered to us, to the youngest, to the meanest, to the most unworthy. It is not prepared, merely for those that have worn an earthly diadem or cornet: (Would to [Page] God, it were not despised by most of them, as a thing less worthy of their thoughts, than the most trifling amusement, by which they unbend their minds from the weighty cares attending their station!) But it is prepared for you, and for you; even for every one, who thinks it worth pursuing, and accepting, upon the terms of the gospel covenant; for every one, who believing in Christ, and loving him, is humbly determined through his grace to be faithful unto death.—And shall this glorious proposal be made to you in vain? Were it an earthly crown that could lawfully be obtained, are there not many of us, notwithstanding all its weight of anxieties, and all the piercing thorns with which we might know it to be lined, that would be ready eagerly to seize it, and perhaps to contend and quarrel with each other for it? But here is no foundation for contention. Here is a crown for each; and such a crown, that all the royal ornaments of all the princes upon earth, when compared with it, are lighter than a feather, and viler than dost. And shall we neglect it? Shall we refuse it, from such a hand too, as that by which it is offered? Shall we so judge ourselves unworthy of eternal life,* as thereby indeed to make ourselves worthy of eternal death? For there is no other alternative. — But blessed be God, it is not universally neglected. There are (I doubt not) among you, many who pursue [...]t, many who shall assuredly brain it. For their sakes let us reflect,

(3) How courageously may the heads which are to wear such a crown, be lifted up to face all the trials of life and death!

Those trials may be various, and perhaps extreme; but if borne aright, far from depriving us of this crown they will only serve to increase its lustre. It is the apostle Paul's express assertion; and he speaks as transported with the thought: "For this cause we saint not, but though the outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day: for our light affliction which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we look not at the things which are seen but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal but the things which are not seen are eternal."† Surely with this support, we may not only live, but [Page] triumph, in poverty, in reproach, in weakness, in pain: And with this we may die, not only se [...]enely, but joyfully. Oh my friends, where are our hearts? Where is our faith? Nay, I will add, where is our reason? Why are not our eyes, our desires, and our hopes, more frequently directed upward? Surely one ray fr [...] that resplendent [...]iadem might be sufficient to confound all the false ch [...]ns of these tran [...] tory vanities, which indeed owe all their lustre to the darkness in which they are placed. Surely when our spirits are overwhelmed, within us, one glance of it might be sufficion [...] to animate and elevate, and might teach us to say, in the midst of dangers, sorrows, and death, "In all these things we are more than conquerers, through him that loved us."* Thus have some triumphed in the last extremities of nature; and both the subject, and the occasion also, loudly calls us to reflect,

(4.) What reason we have to congratulate those happy souls, that have already received the crown of life!

When we are weeping over the cold, yea the bleeding remains of such, surely it is for ourselves, and not for them, that the stream slows. The thought of their condition, far from moving our compassion, may rather inspire us with joy, and with praise. Look not on their pale countenance, nor on the wide and deep wounds, through which perhaps the soul rushed out to seize the great prize of its faith and hope; though even those wounds appear beautiful, when earned by distinguished virtue, by piety to their country, and their God. Look not on the eyes closed in death, or the once honoured and beloved head, now covered with the dust of the grave: But view, by an internal believing eye, that different form which the exalted triumphant spirit already wears the earnest of a yet brighter glory. Their great leader, whose care of them we are fondly ready to suspect, or secretly to complain of as deficient in such circumstances as these, points, (as it were) to the white robes, and the flourishing palms, which he has given them; and calls for our regard to the crown [...] of life which he has set on their heads, and to the songs of joy and praise to which he has formed their exulting tongues. And do we sully and dishonour their triumphs with our tears? Do we think so meanly of heaven, and of them, as to wish them with us again; [Page] that they might eat and drink at our tables; that they might talk with us in our low language; that they might travel with us from stage to stage in this wilderness; and take their share with us in those vanities of life, of which we ourselves are so often weary, that there is hardly a week, or a day, in which we are not lifting up our eyes, and saying with a deep [...]ward groan, "Oh that we had wings like a dove! Then would we flee away, and be at rest.*"

Surely with relation to these faithful soldiers of Jesus Christ, who have already fallen, it is matter of no small joy to reflect, that their warfare is accomplished;† that they have at length passed through every scene in which their fidelity could be indangered; so that now, they are inviolably secure. How much more then should we rejoice, that they are entered, not only into the rest, but into the joy of their Lord; that they conquered, even when they fell, and are now reaping the fruits, the celestial and immortal fruits, of that last great victory?

A sense of honour often taught the heathens, when attending those friends to the funeral pile who had died honourably in their country's cause, to use some ceremonies expressive of their joy for their glory; though that glory was an empty name, and all the reward of it a wreath of laurel, which was soon to crackle in the flame, and vanish into smoak. And shall not the joy and glory of the living spirit affect us, much more than they could be affected with the honours paid to the mangled corpse?

Let us then think with reverence, and with joy, on the pious dead; and especially on those, whom God honoured with any special opportunities of approving their fidelity, in life, or in death: And if we mourn, (as who in some circumstances, can forbear it?) Let it be as christians, with that mixture of high congratulation, with that erect countenance, and that undaunted heart, which becomes those that see by saith their exaltation and felicity; and burning with a strong and sacred eagerness to join their triumphant company, let us be ready to share in the most painful of their trials, that we may also share in their glories.

And surely, if I have ever known a life, and a death, capable of inspiring us with these sentiments in their sublimest elevations, it was the life and the death of that illu [...] trious [Page] christian hero, Colonel Gardiner; whose character was too well known to many of you, by some months residence here, to need your being informed of it from me; and whose history was too remarkable, to be confined within those few remaining moments, which must be allotted to the finishing of this discourse. Yet there was something so uncommon in both, that I think it of high importance to the honor of the gospel and grace of Christ, that they should be delivered down to posterity, in a distinct and particular view. And therefore, as the Providence of God, in concurrence with that most intimate and familiar friendship with which this great and good man was pleased to honor me gives me an opportunity of speaking of many important things, especially relating to his religious experiences, with greater exactness and certainty than most others might be capable of doing; and as he gave me his full permission, in case I should have the affliction to survive him, to declare freely whatever I knew of him, which I might apprehend conducive to the glory of God, and the advancement of religion: I purpose publishing, in a distinct tract, some remarkable passages of his life, illustrated by extracts from his own letters, which speak in the most forcible manner the genuine sentiments of his heart. But as I promise myself considerable assistance in this work, from some valuable persons in the northern part of our island, and possibly from some of his own papers, to which our present confusions forbid my access, I must delay the execution of this design at least for a few months; and must likewise take heed, that I do not too much anticipate what I may then offer to the public view, by what it might otherwise be very proper to mention now.

Let it therefore suffice for the present to remind you, that Colonel Gardiner was one of the most illustrious instances of the energy, and indeed I must also add of the sovereignty of divine grace, which I have heard or read of in modern history. He was, in the most amazing and miraculous manner, without any divine ordinance, without any religious opportunity, or peculiar advantage, deliverance, or affliction, reclaimed on a sudden, in the vigour of life and health, from the most licencious and abandoned sensuality, not only to a steady course of regularity and virtue, but to high devotion, and strict though unaffected sanctity of manners: A course, (in which he persisted for more than twenty-six years, that [Page] is, to the close of life,) so remarkably eminent for piety towards God, diffusive humanity and Christian charity, lively faith, deep humility, strict temperance, active diligence in improving time, meek resignation [...]o the will of God, steady patience in enduring afflictions, unaffected contempt of secular interest and resolute and couragious zeal in maintaining truth, as well as in reproving and (where his authority might take place) restraining vice and wickedness of every kind; that I must deliberately declare, that when I consider all these particulars together, it is hard to say where, but in the book of God, he found his example, or where he has left his equal. Every one of these articles, with many more, I hope, (if God spare my life) to have an opportunity of illustrating, in such a manner as to shew, that he was a living demonstration of the energy and excellency of the Christian religion; nor can I imagine how I can serve its interests better, than by recording what I have seen and known upon this head, known to my own edification, as well as my joy.

But, Oh, how shall I lead back your thoughts, and my own, to what we once enjoyed in him, without too deep and tender a sense of what we have lost! To have poured out his soul in blood; to have fallen by the savage and rebellious hands of his own countrymen, at the wall of his own house; deserted by those, who were under the highest obligations that can be imagined to have defended his life with their own; and above all, to have seen with his dying eyes the enemies of our religion and liberties triumphant, and to have heard in his latest moments the horrid noise of their insulting shouts;—is a scene, in the view of which we are almost tempted to say, Where were the shields of angels? Where the eye of Providence? Where the remembrance of those numberless prayers, which had been offered to God for the preservation of such a man, at such a time as this?—But let faith assure us, that he was never more dear and precious in the eye of his divine leader, than in these dreadful moments, when if sense were to judge, he might seem most neglected. That is of all others the happiest death, which may most sensibly approve our fidelity to God, and our zeal for his glory. To stand singly in the combat with the fiercest enemies, in the cause of religion and liberty, when the whole regiment he commanded fled; to throw himself with so noble an ardor to defend those on foot, whom the [Page] whole body which he headed were appointed to support, when he saw that the fall of the nearest commander exposed those brave men to the extremity of danger; were circumstances that evidently shewed, how much be held honour and duty dearer than life. He could not but be conscious of the distinguished profession he had made, under a religious character; he could not but be sensible, how much our army, in circumstances like these, needs all that the most generous examples can do, to animate its officers and its soldiers: And therefore he seems deliberately to have judged, that although when his men would hear no voice but that of their fears, he might have retreated without infamy, it was better he should die in so glorious a cause, than have it thought that his regard to religion and liberty was but a mere profession, that was not strong enough to make him faithful unto death. He had long felt the force of it; and had too high a value for his king and country, to think of deserting the trust committed to him; too great a love for the protestant religion, to think of exchanging it for the errors of popery; and rather than give way to a rebellious crew, by whose success an inlet would be opened to the cruel ravages of arbitrary power, and to the bloody and relentless rage of popish superstition, he loved not his life unto the death*. And in this view his death was martyrdom, and has, I doubt not, received the applauses and rewards of it: For what is martyrdom, but voluntarily to meet death, for the honour of God, and the testimony of a good conscience? —And if it be indeed true, as it is reported on very considerable authority, that before he expired he had an interview with the leader of the opposite party, and declared in his presence ‘the full assurance he had of an immortal crown, which he was going to receive,’ it is a circumsta [...]ce worthy of being had in everlasting remembrance: As in that case, providence may seem wonderfully to have united two seemingly inconsistent circumstances, in the manner of his dying; the alternative of either of which he has spoken of in my hearing, as what with humble submission to the great Lord of life he could most earnestly wish: " [...]at if be were not called directly to die for the truth," which he rightly judged the most glorious and happy lot of mortality, ‘he might either fall in the field of battle, [Page] fighting in defence of the religion and liberties of his country; or might have an opportunity of expressing his hopes and joys, as a christian to the honour of his Lord, and the edification of those about him, in his departing moments; and so might go off this earthly stage,’ as in the letter that relates his death, it is expressly said that he did, "triumphing in the assurance of a blessed immortality."

How difficult it must be in our present circumstances, to gain certain and exact information, you will easily perceive: But enough is known, and more than enough, to shew how justly the high consolations of that glorious subject which we have been contemplating, may be applied to the present solemn occasion. From what is certain with relation to him, we may presume to say, that after he had adorned the gospel by so honorable a life, in such a conspicuous station, God seems to have condescended, as with his own hand, to raise him an illustrious theatre, on which he might die a venerable and amiable spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men*; ballancing to his native land by such an exit, the loss of what future services it could have expected, from a constitution so much broken as his was, by the fatigues of his campaign in Flanders, where he contracted an illness, from which he never recovered.

On the whole therefore, whatever cause we have, (as indeed we have great cause,) to sympathize with his wounded family, and with his wounded country; and how decent soever it may be, like David, to take up our lamentation over the mighty fallen, and the brightest weapons of our war perished†; (and oh, how naturally might some of us adopt the preceding words too!) Yet after all, let us endeavour to summon up a spirit, like that with which he bore the loss of friends, eminent for their goodness and usefulness. And while we glorify God in him‡, as on so many accounts we have reason to do, let us be animated by such an example to a resolution of continuing like him, stedfast in our duty, amidst desertion and danger, and all the terrors that can beset us around. As he, having been so eminently faithful unto death, has undoubtedly received a crown of life, which shines with distinguished lusture, among those who are come out of much tribulation‖; let us be couragious followers of him, and of all the glorious company [Page] of those, who through faith and patience inherit the promises¶. Then may we be able to enter into the comfort a [...]d spirit of them all, and of this promise in particular; and shall not be discouraged, though we are called to endure a great fight of afflictions§, or even to sacrifice our lives, like him, in defence of our religion and liberties: Since in this cause we know, if we should fall like him, even to die is gain‖; and while his memory is blessed†, and his name had in honour, we are assur [...]d [...] the best authority, that having fought the good fight with so heroic a fortitude, and finished his course with so steady a tenor, and kept the faith with so unshaken a resolution, there is laid up for him a crown of brighter glory than he has yet received, which the Lord the righteous judge will give unto him in that great expected day; and not unto him only, but unto all them that love his appearance. 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. Amen!

AN HYMN, SUNG AFTER THE SERMON.

1

HARK! 'Tis our heav'nly Leader's voice

From his triumphant seat:

Midst all the war's tumultuous noise,

How pow'rful, and how sweet!

2

"Fight on, my faithful band," he cries,

"Nor fear the mortal blow:

"Who first in such a warfare dies,

"Shall speediest victory know.

3

"I have my lays of combat known,

"And in the dust was laid:

"But thence I mounted to my throne,

"And glory crowns my head.

4

"That throne, that glory, you shall share;

"My hands the crown shall give:

"And you the sparkling honours wear,

"While God himself shall live."

5

Lord, 'tis enough! Our bosoms glow

With courage, and with love:

Thine hand shall bear thy soldiers thro',

And raise their heads above.

6

My soul, while deaths beset me round,

Erects her ardent eyes;

And longs, thro' some illustrious wound,

To rush and seize the prize.

FINIS.

Notes

*

John xx. 27.

↵

†

Luke xvi 10.

↵

*

Mat. xxv. 23.

↵

†

Rev. xvii. 14.

↵

‖

Rom. ii. 7.

↵

§

Mark viii. 34.

↵

¶

Mat. x. 37, 39.

↵

**

Luke xiv. 26.

↵

*

Jam. i. 12.

↵

†

2 Tim. iv. 8.

↵

§

1 Pet. v. 4.

↵

‖

Rom. vi. 23.

↵

¶

Compare Mat. xx. 8. Give the labourers their hire. Col. iv. 1. Masters, give unto your servants that which is just and equal.

↵

*

2 Tim. iv. 8.

↵

†

Mat. x. 28.

↵

§

Rev. i. 18.

↵

‖

John xiv. 19.

↵

¶

Psalm lxxiii. 20.

↵

*

Rev. xxii. 5.

↵

†

Rev. i. 6.

↵

§

2 Cor. iv. 13.

↵

§

Luke xvii. 10.

↵

‖

Rev. vii. 14.

↵

*

Acts xiii. 46.

↵

†

2 Cor. iv. 16, 17, 18.

↵

*

Rom. iii. 37.

↵

*

Psal. lv. 6.

↵

†

Isai. xl. 2.

↵

*

Rev. xii. 11.

↵

*

1 Cor. iv. 9.

↵

†

2 Sam. i. 27.

↵

‡

Gal. i. 24.

↵

‖

Rev. vii. 14.

↵

¶

Heb. vi 12.

↵

§

Heb. x. 32.

↵

‖

Phil. i. 21.

↵

†

Prov. x. 7.

↵

Information about this book

Title statement

Some remarkable passages in the life of the Hon. Col. James Gardiner, who was slain at the Battle of Preston-Pans, September 21, 1745. : To which is added, the sermon, occasioned by his heroick death. / By P. Doddridge, D.D. ; [Two lines from Virgil]Some remarkable passages in the life of the Honourable Col. James Gardiner

Doddridge, Philip, 1702-1751.

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI :

Date

2011-05.

ID [DLPS]

N21719

ID [TCP]

N21719

ID [STC]

Evans 28578

ID [NOTIS]

APX5527

ID [IMAGE-SET]

28578

ID [EVANS-CITATION]

99022317

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 28578.

Notes

(Evans-TCP ; no. N21719)

Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 28578)

Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 28578)

Source

— Some remarkable passages in the life of the Hon. Col. James Gardiner, who was slain at the Battle of Preston-Pans, September 21, 1745. : To which is added, the sermon, occasioned by his heroick death. / By P. Doddridge, D.D. ; [Two lines from Virgil], Some remarkable passages in the life of the Honourable Col. James Gardiner, Doddridge, Philip, 1702-1751., Sowden, Benjamin., Gibbons, Thomas, 1720-1785., Gardiner, David, dedicatee., Doddridge, Philip, 1702-1751. Christian warrior animated and crowned ....

Extent

156 p. ; 17 cm. (12mo)

Printed and sold by Stewart & Cochran, no. 34, South Second-Street.,. Philadelphia: :: M,DCC,XCV. [1795]. (Dedicated "To David Gardiner, Esq. Cornet in Sir John Cope's Regiment of Dragoons.") ("Verses on the death of Col. Gardiner. By the Rev. Mr. Benjamin Snowden [i.e. Sowden]."--p. [118]-119.) ("An elegy on the death of the truly pious and brave Col. James Gardiner ... By the Rev. Mr. Thomas Gibbons."--p. [120]-134.) ("The Christian warrior animated and crowned: a sermon occasioned by the heroic death of the Honourable Col. James Gardiner ... By P. Doddridge ..."--p. [135]-156, with separate title page.) ("An hymn, sung after the sermon."--p. 156.)

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.