APPREHENSIONS OF DEATH.
An endeared friend, who was most intimately conversant with the colonel
during the last two years of his life, has favoured me with an account
of some little circumstances relating to him, which I esteem as precious
fragments, by which the consistent tenor of his character may be further
illustrated. I shall therefore insert them here, without being very
solicitous as to the order in which they are introduced.
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 little while longer in life. "He expected death,"
says my good correspondent, "and was delighted with the prospect," which
did not grow less amiable by the 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 judicious and accurate remarks, was still his daily study; and
it furnished him with matter of frequent conversation, much to the
edification and comfort of those that were about him. It was recollected
that, among other passages, he had lately 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 confidence
and expectations. With the strongest attestation 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 Habakkuk, which he found armour of proof against every fear and
every contingency: "Though the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall
fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields
shall yield no meal; the flocks shall be cut off from the fold, and there
shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will
joy in the God of my salvation." The 145th Psalm was also spoken of by
him with great delight, and Dr. Watts's version of it, as well as several
others of that excellent person's poetical compositions. My friend who
transmits to me this account, adds the following words, which I desire
to insert with the deepest sentiments of unfeigned humility and
self-abasement before God, as most unworthy the honour of contributing
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 repasts; particularly those on beholding
transgressors with grief, and Christ's Message." 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 I 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 near him.
The former of these hymns, which my correspondent mentions as having been
so agreeable to Colonel Gardiner, I have given the reader already. The
latter, which is called Christ's Message, took its rise from Luke iv. 18,
19, and is as follows:
Hark! the glad sound! the Saviour comes,
The Saviour promised long;
Let every heart prepare a throne,
And every voice a song.
On him the Spirit largely poured,
Exerts its sacred fire;
Wisdom and might, and zeal and love,
His holy breast inspire.
He comes the prisoners to release,
In Satan's bondage held;
The gates of brass before him burst,
The iron fetters yield.
He comes, from thickest films of vice
To clear the mental ray,
And on the eye-balls of the blind
To pour celestial day.[*]
He comes the broken heart to bind,
The bleeding soul to cure;
And with the treasures of his grace
To enrich the humble poor.
His silver trumpets publish loud
The jubilee of the Lord;
Our debts are all remitted now,
Our heritage restored.
Our glad hosannas, Prince of Peace!
Thy welcome shall proclaim;
And heaven's eternal arches ring
With Thy beloved name.
[*Note: This stanza is mostly borrowed from Mr. Pope.]
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 inmost sentiments of his soul, and they were undoubtedly
so in the last 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.
Jesus! I love thy charming name,
'Tis music to my ear:
Fain would I sound it out so loud,
That earth and heaven should hear.
Yea! thou art precious to my soul,
My transport and my trust;
Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys,
And gold is sordid dust.
All my capacious powers can wish,
In Thee most richly meet;
Nor to mine eyes is life so dear,
Nor friendship half so sweet.
Thy grace still dwells upon my heart,
And sheds its fragrance there;
The noblest balm of all its wounds,
The cordial of its care.
I'll speak the honours of thy name
With my last labouring breath;
Then speechless clasp thee in my arms,
The antidote of death.
Those who were intimate with Colonel Gardiner, must have observed how
ready he was to give a devotional turn to any subject that occurred. In
particular, the spiritual and heavenly 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 surprising, will, I dare say, be pleasing to the devout mind. He
had just been reading, in Rollin's extracts 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 do not know; I did not observe him." On what, then,
said one of the company did you fix your attention? "On 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, on which 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.
Enfeebled as his constitution was, he was still intent on improving his
time to some valuable purpose; 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."
The July before his death, he was persuaded to take a journey to
Scarborough for the recovery of his health, from which he was at least
encouraged to expect some little revival. After this he had thoughts
of going to London, and intended 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 surprised 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, and that comforts me, viz., that it shall go well
with the righteous, come what will."