INTIMACY WITH THE AUTHOR.
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.