"Oh may my Guardian, while I sleep,
Close to my bed his vigils keep;
His love angelical distil,
Stop all the avenues of ill!
May he celestial joys rehearse,
And thought to thought with me converse!"]
[Footnote ³: See Appendix I.]
I meet not with any other remarkable event relating to Major Gardiner, which can properly be introduced here, till 1726, when, on the 11th of July, he was married to the Right Hon. 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.
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 more than he deserved." 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 honour such a testimony must leave upon her name, long as the memory of it shall continue.
[*Note: In the year 1746]
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 panegyric as would neither suit my design, nor be at all likely to render 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 very soon 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 discharged both 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 an opportunity of knowing with how much solemnity, fervour, and propriety he did it. He was constant in attendance 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, on 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 his head, and confining him in a dark room."
He always treated his lady with a manly tenderness, giving her the most natural evidences of a cordial, habitual esteem, and expressing a most affectionate sympathy with her under the infirmities of a very delicate constitution, much broken, at least towards the latter years of their marriage. He had at all times a most faithful care of all her interests, and especially those relating to the state of religion in her mind. 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 centre 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 exceedingly 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.
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 showed 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 show 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 everywhere 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 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.
It was 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 cautious over his heart, lest it should be too fondly 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 efface out of my memory, has so sensibly taught me how difficult it is fully to support the Christian character here, that I hope my reader will pardon me (I am sure, at least, the heart of wounded parents will,) if I dwell a little longer upon so interesting a subject.[*]
[*Note: See Appendix II.]
When he was in Herefordshire in July, 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 agreeable 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 surprise 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 renders this life so wretched! I desire to bless God that ———— (another of his children) is in so good a way; but I have 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 it 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 them that love him; and he is faithful that hath promised, who will infallibly perform it, if our unbelief does not stand in the way."
The greatest trial of this 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 seized him but about fifteen hours before it carried him off. He died 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 at such a loss; but the happy father had so firm 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 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.
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 seem its most 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 health, 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 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 not he 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 favour 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, 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 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 a heart that could have faced danger and death with the greatest intrepidity.
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 his 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 endeavours he had used to promote his preparations for a better world, under an apprehension that he would not continue long in this. We shall have an affecting instance of the prevalence 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.
As it was a few years after his marriage that he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, in which he continued till he had a regiment of his own, I shall, for the future, speak of him by that title; and I 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 upon his bravery in the field, though, as I have heard from others, that was very remarkable––I say from others, for I never heard any thing of the 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 particularly; for he headed a small 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 mindful, and in his latter years so important a friend, that he did not then fall, when the profaneness which mingled itself with this martial rage seemed to rend the heavens, and shocked some other military gentlemen who were not very remarkable for their caution in this respect.
But I insist not on things of this nature, which the true greatness of his soul would hardly ever 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 to be approved in the day of combat only. 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 properly discharged.
I doubt not that the noble persons in whose regiments he was lieutenant-colonel, will always be ready to bear an honourable and grateful testimony to his exemplary diligence and fidelity in all that related to the care of the troops over which he was set, whether in 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 gross 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 on 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 looked like a contrivance to keep his soldiers employed with their horses and their arms at the seasons of public worship––an indecency which I wish there were 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 treat 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 up thither in due time, so as to be there before the worship began. And I must do them the justice to say, that so 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 the worshippers.
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 interests, which, being 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 last illness at Harborough, and I found the man upon the borders of eternity––a circumstance which, as he apprehended himself, must add some peculiar weight and credibility to his discourse. He then told me, in his colonel's absence, that he questioned not that he should have everlasting reason to bless God on Colonel Gardiner's account, for he had been 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, and had also taken care that he should want for nothing that might conduct to the recovery of his health. 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 Prestonpans 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.
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. This he knew to be as much the dictate of prudence as equity. I find from one of his letters before me, dated but a few months after his conversion, that he was solicited to use his interest with the Earl of Stair in favour of one whom he judged a very worthy person; and that it had been suggested by another, who recommended him, that if he so succeeded, he might expect some handsome acknowledgment. But he answers with some degree of indignation, "Do you imagine I am to be 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 a fleet may sink under repeated discouragements, and the basest exalted, to the infamy of the public, and perhaps to its ruin.
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 really 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 in 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 also greatly tended to the same purpose. He knew how mean a man looks in the transports of passion, and would not use so much freedom with many 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 so, he kept a strict inspection over his soldiers; in which 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 staid 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 to 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 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 inflict with a becoming resolution, and with all the severity which he judged necessary––a severity the more awful and impressive, as it was already 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 to reforming offenders, and to deterring others from an imitation of their faults.
One instance of his conduct, which happened at Leicester, and which 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 the 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 sentinels then on duty had abandoned his post, and, on being seized, broke out into some oaths and profane execrations against those that discovered him––a crime of which the colonel had the greatest abhorrence, and on which he never failed to animadvert. 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 picket, 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 ever had before, and spoke of the circumstance some years after to my friend, in such a manner that there seemed reason to hope it had been instrumental in producing a change not only in his life, but in his heart.
There cannot, I think, be a more proper place for mentioning the great reverence this excellent officer always expressed for the name of the blessed God, and the zeal with which he endeavoured to suppress, and if possible to extirpate, that detestable sin of swearing and cursing which is every where so common, and especially among our military men. He often declared, at the head of his regiment, his sentiments with respect to this enormity, 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. 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.
'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 Bankton, and took dinner with him. He too well foresaw what might happen amid 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 guests so justly entitled 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 at the same time with a very frank and determined air, telling 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 law 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 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 entreated 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 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 Gardiner on any occasion stepped out of the room, he himself undertook to be the guardian of the law in his absence; and as one of the inferior officers offended during this time, he informed the colonel, so that the fine was exacted and given to the poor,[*] with the universal approbation of the company. The story spread in the neighbourhood, and was perhaps applauded highly by many who wanted the courage to "go and do likewise." But it may be said, with the utmost propriety, of the worthy person of whom I write, that he feared the face of no man living where the honour of God was concerned. In all such cases he might be justly said, in Scripture phrase, "to set his face like a flint;" and I assuredly believe, that had he been in the presence of a sovereign prince who had been guilty of this fault, his looks at least would have testified his grief and surprise, if he had apprehended it unfit to have borne his testimony in any other way.
[*Note: It is observable that the money which was forfeited on this account by his own officers, whom he never spared, or by any others of his soldiers who rather chose to pay than submit to corporal punishment, was, by the colonel's order, laid by in a bank till some of the private men fell sick, and then it was laid out in providing them with proper help and accommodations in their distress.]
Lord Cadogan's regiment of dragoons, during the time he was lieutenant-colonel of it, was quartered in a variety of places, both in England and Scotland, from many of which I have letters before me; particularly from Hamilton, Ayr, Carlisle, 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 was proportionably respected, and left behind him traces of unaffected devotion, humility, benevolence, and zeal for the support and advancement of religion and virtue.
The equable tenor of his mind in these respects is illustrated by his letters from several of these places; and though I have but comparatively a small number of them now in my hands, yet they will afford some valuable extracts; which I shall therefore here lay before my reader, that he may the better judge as to the colonel's real character in particulars which I have already mentioned, or which may hereafter occur.
In a letter to his lady, dated from Carlisle, November 19, 1738, when
he was on his journey to Herefordshire, he breathes out his grateful,
cheerful soul in these words:
"I bless God I was never better in my lifetime, and I wish I could be so
happy as to hear the same of you: or rather, in other words, to hear that
you have obtained an entire trust in God. That would infallibly keep you
in perfect peace, for the God of truth has 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 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!"
From Leicester, August 6, 1739, he writes thus to his lady:
"Yesterday I was at the Lord'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 say with the Psalmist, "My soul, wait thou only
upon God." Afterwards, speaking of one of his children, who he heard had
made a commendable progress in learning, he expresses his satisfaction,
and adds; "But, how much greater joy would it give me to hear that he was
greatly advanced in the school of Christ! Oh that our children may but be
wise unto salvation, and may grow in grace as they do in stature!"
These letters, which to so familiar a friend evidently lay open the
heart, and show 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 only one,
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!"
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 itself on this side heaven.
Such was the temper which this excellent man appears to have carried along with him through such a variety of places and circumstances; and the whole of his deportment was suitable to these impressions. Strangers were agreeably struck with his first appearance, there being much of the Christian, the well-bred man, and the universal friend 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 honourable 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.
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 18, 1739, when I first met him at Leicester. I remember I happened that day to preach a lecture from Psalm cxix, 158, "I beheld the transgressions, 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 words there) with which a 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 which 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 whom I ever expect to find upon earth. We afterwards sang 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 memory, and used to repeat it, with so forcible an accent as showed how much every line expressed his very soul. In this view the reader will pardon my inserting it, especially as I know not when I may get time to publish a volume of these serious though artless compositions, which I sent him in manuscript some years ago, and to which I have since made very large additions:
Arise, my tenderest thoughts arise,
To torrents melt my streaming eyes!
And thou, my heart, with anguish feel
Those evils which thou canst not heal!
See human nature sunk in shame!
See scandal poured on Jesus' name!
The Father wounded through the Son!
The world abused––the soul undone!
See the short course of vain delight
Closing in everlasting night!
In flames that no abatement know,
The briny tears for ever flow.
My God, I feel the mournful scene;
My bowels yearn o'er dying men:
And fain my pity would reclaim,
And snatch the firebrands from the flame.
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!
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 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 rode alone all the remainder of the day; and it was my unspeakable happiness that I was alone, since I could no longer be with him; for I can hardly conceive what other company would not then have been an encumbrance. 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 (which I wish and pray that many of my readers may also adopt for themselves) that I glorified God in him. Our epistolatory 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.
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 greater 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
already mentioned my ever dear and honoured friend Dr. Isaac Watts, he
adds:
"I have been in pain these 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, 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 entreat 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, when I join the glorious company above, where there
will be no drawbacks, none will outsing 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,
On some fallen 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 surprised 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 not 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.
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 sentiments of those writings which I published during these years, which he read with great attention, and of which he speaks in terms which it becomes me to suppress, and to impute, in a considerable degree, to the kind prejudices of so endeared a friendship. He gives me repeated assurances "that he was daily mindful of me in his prayers", a circumstance which I cannot recollect without the greatest thankfulness; and 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.
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 shows 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 surprised 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.
After this correspondence, carried on for the space of about three years, and some interviews which we had enjoyed at different places, he came to spend some time with us at Northampton, and brought with him his lady and his two eldest children. I had here an opportunity of taking a much nearer view of his character, and surveying it in a much greater variety of lights than before; and my esteem for him increased in proportion to these opportunities. What I have written with respect to his conduct in relative life, was in a great measure drawn from what I now saw; and I shall mention here 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 have remarked on account of that wisdom and propriety which pervaded them.