SECT. 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 ef-fect, (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 phæno

tion 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 phænomena 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.

menon 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.

SECT. 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 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 lifetime 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.

SECT. 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

*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 Honourable the Lady Frances Gardiner, through the hand of the Rev. Mr. Webster, one of the ministers of Edinburgh. This I rather mention, because some letters have been brought to me as Colonel

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, 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.

SECT. 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

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 be beyond controversy the most natural and authentic: from whence therefore I shall take my account of that affecting scene.

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 imminent 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 befooled." This he used often to express in the strongest terms; which I shall not repeat so particularly, as I can 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