COLONEL JAMES GARDINER.

1688

A SUDDEN and permanent change from wrong principles and habits to their opposite, has been seldom more strongly exhibited than in the case of the subject of this sketch. He was a native of Linlithgowshire, Scotland, and born on the 10th of January, 1688. The military life to which he was destined, early surrounded him with its temptations, and oppressed him by its bereavements. His father fell during a long campaign in Germany; an uncle at the battle of Steinkirk; and his eldest brother, at the siege of Namur, on the day that he completed his sixteenth year.

The mother of James Gardiner was a woman of a pious and tender spirit. Under the

weight of her afflictions, she strove, with peculiar earnestness, to cultivate the intellect of her son, and to impress his heart with religious sensibilities. She placed him at the best school in Linlithgow, where his progress in study, especially in the languages, was gratifying to his teachers and to herself. Yet his feelings received no upward direction, and her pious precepts took no root in his volatile nature. She would fain by tender persuasion and remonstrance have withdrawn him from the hazards of a military life. But his preference for the profession of his father was uncontrollable; and so precocious were his belligerent tastes, that he was engaged in three duels, ere he attained the stature of a man. In one of these, he received a deep wound in the face, whose scar he bore to his grave. He first served as a cadet, and at the early age of fourteen, was promoted to an ensign's commission in a Scottish regiment engaged in the war with Holland.

During the battle of Ramillies, in the reign of Queen Anne, he performed many feats of valor. While rallying his men to a desperate

attack on the French, who were posted in the churchyard of Ramillies, and while the most blasphemous oaths trembled on his tongue, he received a bullet in his mouth, which passed out through his neck, and in a state of racking anguish lay on the field of battle the whole night, covered with his own blood, and surrounded by the dying. But neither the tortures of a wound, inflamed by neglect and improper treatment, nor the depression of sickness, nor yet his deliverance, impressed his heart, or awakened it to reflection. At his recovery he returned to his vices, and plunged into every course of shameless dissipation. Yet in this life of licentiousness he realized no happiness; and when his gay friends were once congratulating him on his successes and felicity, he happened to cast his eyes upon a dog that entered the room, and could not forbear groaning inwardly, and wishing, "Oh, that I were that dog!"

In this course he continued till past the thirtieth year of his age, when he was reclaimed by a wonderful interposition of divine power. In the midst of a career of vice, his

mind became so suddenly and deeply impressed, that he thought he saw before his eyes a representation of the crucified Saviour, and heard his voice expostulating with him. The deep amazement of his soul, was succeeded by several days and nights of extreme horror, till at length, as if in answer to agonizing cries and prayers, the day-spring of salvation dawned from on high. An entire change was wrought in his views, affections, and propensities; and he who was once blind through the enmity of sin, saw clearly. This perceptible alteration of his behaviour, soon excited the raillery of his former companions, which he sustained with calmness, and told them of his unalterable determination to serve the Lord.

At his return from Paris to London, knowing that he must encounter the ridicule of those with whom he had once associated in sin, he requested to meet them on a social party at the house of a friend. During dinner he was the object of their sharpest witticisms, to which he made little reply; but when the cloth was removed, he entreated their hearing, while he

recounted the cause of his visible alteration, the thorough change of his principles and affections, and the peace and serenity which he enjoyed, to which he was before a stranger. They listened to this manly and rational defence with the deepest astonishment, and the master of the house rising said "Come, let us call another cause. We thought this man mad, and he is in good earnest, proving that we are so." When his friends perceived him still cheerful and conversable, they no longer cavilled at his opinions, but seemed to wish to share his happiness, and to own him as a superior being.

None ever knew better how to blend the graceful and amiable discharge of the duties of life with the strict devotion of a Christian. He always rose so early as to be able to devote two hours to prayer, meditation, and praise, in which he acquired an uncommon fervency, and realized great delight.

If the care and perplexity incidental to a life in camps, demanded his attention at an unusually early hour, he would rise proportion