[*Note: This alluded to the subject of the sermon the day before, which was 1 Pet, 1. 8.]
In all the offices of friendship he was remarkably ready, and had a most sweet and engaging manner of performing them, which greatly heightened the obligations he conferred. He seemed not to set any high value upon any benefit he bestowed, but did it without the least parade, as a thing which in those circumstances came of course, where he had professed love and respect; which he was not over forward to do, though he treated strangers, and those who were most his inferiors, very courteously, and always seemed, because he in truth always was, glad of any opportunity of doing them good.
He was particularly zealous in vindicating the reputation of his friends in their absence; and though I cannot recollect that I had ever an opportunity of immediately observing this, as I do not know that I ever was present with him when any ill was spoken of others at all; yet, by what I have heard him say with relation to attempts to injure the character of worthy and useful men, I have reason to believe that no man living was more sensible of the baseness and infamy, as well as the cruelty, of such conduct. He knew and despised the low principles of resentment for unreasonable expectations disappointed, of personal attachment to men of some crossing interests, of envy, and of party zeal, from whence such a conduct often proceeds; and he was particularly offended when he found it (as he frequently did) in persons that set up for the greatest patrons of liberty, virtue, and candour. He looked upon the murderers of reputation and usefulness as some of the vilest pests of society, and plainly showed on every proper occasion that he thought it the part of a generous, benevolent and courageous man to exert himself in tracing and hunting down the slander, that the authors or abettors of it might be less capable of mischief for the future.
The most plausible objection that I ever heard to Colonel Gardiner's character is, that he was too much attached to some religious principles, established indeed in the churches both of England and Scotland, but which have of late years been much disputed, and from which, it is at least generally supposed, not a few in both have thought proper to depart–– whatever expedients they may have found to quiet their consciences, in subscribing those formularies in which they are plainly taught. His zeal was especially apparent in opposition to those doctrines which seemed to derogate from the divine honours of the Son and Spirit of God, and from the freedom of divine grace, of the reality and necessity of its operations in the conversion and salvation of sinners.
With relation to these I must observe, that it was his most steadfast persuasion that all those notions which represent our blessed Redeemer and the Holy Spirit as mere creatures, or which set aside the atonement of the former, or the influence of the latter, sap the very foundation of Christianity by rejecting the most glorious doctrines peculiar to it. He had attentively observed (what indeed is too obvious) the unhappy influence which the denial of these principles often has on the character of ministers, and on their success, and was persuaded that an attempt to substitute that mutilated form of Christianity which remains, when these essentials of it are taken away, has proved one of the most successful methods which the great enemy of souls has ever taken, in these latter days, to lead men by insensible degrees into deism, vice, and perdition. He also sagaciously observed the artful manner in which obnoxious tenets are often maintained or insinuated, with all that mixture of zeal and address with which they are propagated in the world, even by those who had most solemnly professed to believe, and engaged to teach the contrary; and as he really apprehended that the glory of God and the salvation of souls were concerned, his piety and charity made him eager and strenuous in opposing what he judged to be errors of so pernicious a nature. Yet I must declare, that, according to what I have known of him, (and I believe he opened his heart on these topics to me with as much freedom as to any man living,) he was not ready, upon light suspicions, to charge tenets which he thought so pernicious on any, especially where he saw the appearances of a good temper and life, which he always reverenced and loved in persons of all sentiments and professions. He severely condemned causeless jealousies and evil surmisings of every kind, and extended that charity, in this respect, both to clergy and laity, which good Bishop Burnet was so ready, according to his own account, to limit to the latter, "of believing every man good till he knew him to be bad, and his notions right till he knew them wrong." He could not but be very sensible of the unhappy consequences which may follow on attacking the characters of men, especially of those who are ministers of the gospel; and if, through a mixture of human frailty, from which the best of men, in the best of their meanings and intentions, are not entirely free, he had ever, in the warmth of his heart, dropped a word which might be injurious to any on that account, (which I believe very seldom happened,) he would gladly retract it on better information; and this was perfectly agreeable to that honest and generous frankness of temper in which I never knew any man who excelled him.
On the whole, it was indeed his deliberate judgment that the Arian, Socinian, and Pelagian doctrines were highly dishonourable to God, and dangerous to the souls of men; and that it was the duty of private Christians to be greatly on their guard against those ministers by whom they are entertained, lest their minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. Yet he sincerely abhorred the thought of persecution for conscience sake; of the absurdity and iniquity of which, in all its kinds and degrees, he had as deep and rational a conviction as any man. Indeed the generosity of his heroic heart could hardly bear to think that those glorious truths which he so cordially loved, and which he assuredly believed to be capable of such fair support both from reason and the word of God, should be disgraced by methods of defence and propagation common to the most impious and ridiculous falsehoods. Nor did he by any means approve of passionate and furious ways of vindicating the most vital and important doctrines of the gospel; for he knew that to maintain the most benevolent religion in the world by such malevolent and infernal methods was destroying the end to accomplish the means; and that it was as impossible that true Christianity should be supported thus, as it is that a man should long be nourished by eating his own flesh. To display the genuine fruits of Christianity in a good life––to be ready to plead with meekness for the doctrines it teaches, and to labour, by every office of humanity and goodness, to gain upon those who oppose it, were the weapons with which this good soldier of Jesus Christ faithfully fought the battles of the Lord. These weapons will always be victorious in his cause; and they who have recourse to others of a different temper, how strong soever they may seem, and how sharp soever they may really be, will find them break in their hands when they exert them most furiously, and are much more likely to wound themselves than to conquer the enemies whom they oppose.
But while I am speaking of Colonel Gardiner's charity in this respect, I must not omit that of another kind, which has indeed engrossed the name of charity, excellent as it is, much more than it ought––I mean alms-giving for which he was very remarkable. I have often wondered how he was able to do so many generous things in this way. But his frugality fed the spring. He made no pleasurable expense on himself, and was contented with a very decent appearance in his family, without affecting such an air of grandeur as could not have been supported without sacrificing to it satisfactions far nobler, and, to a temper like his, far more delightful. The lively and tender feelings of his heart in favour of the distressed and afflicted made it a self-indulgence to relieve them; and the deep conviction he had of the vain and transitory nature of the enjoyments of this world, together with the sublime view he had of another, engaged him to dispense his bounties with a very liberal hand, and even to seek out proper objects of them. Above all, his sincere and ardent love to the Lord Jesus Christ engaged him to feel, with a true sympathy, the concerns of his poor members. In consequence of this, he honoured several of his friends with commissions for the relief of the poor; and particularly, with relation to some under my pastoral care, he referred it to my discretion to supply them with what I should judge expedient, and frequently pressed me, in his letters, "to be sure not to let them want." And where persons standing in need of his charity happened, as they often did, to be persons of remarkably religious dispositions, it was easy to perceive that he not only loved but honoured them, and really esteemed it an honour which Providence conferred upon him, that he should be made, as it were, the almoner of God for their relief.
I cannot forbear relating a little story here, which, when the colonel himself heard it, gave him such exquisite pleasure, that I hope it will be acceptable to several of my readers. There was in a village about nine miles from Northampton, and in a family which, of all others near me, was afterwards most indebted to him, (though he had never then seen any member of it,) an aged and poor, but eminently good woman, who had, with great difficulty, in the exercise of much faith and patience, diligence and humility, made shift to educate a large family of children after the death of her husband, without being chargeable to the parish; which, as it was quite beyond her hope, she often spoke of with great delight. At length, when worn out with age and infirmities, she lay upon her death-bed, she, in a most lively and affecting manner, expressed her hope and joy in the views of approaching glory. Yet, amidst all the triumphs of such a prospect, there was one remaining care and distress which lay heavy on her mind; this was, that as her journey and her stock of provisions were both ended together, she feared that she must either be buried at the parish expense, or leave to her most dutiful and affectionate daughters the house stripped of some of the few movables which remained in it, in order to perform the last office of duty to her, which she had reason to believe they would do. While she was combatting with this only remaining anxiety, I happened, though I knew not the extremity of her illness, to come in, and to bring with me a guinea which the generous colonel had sent by a special message, on hearing the character of the family, for its relief. A present like this, (probably the most considerable they had ever received in their lives,) coming in this manner from an entire stranger at such a crisis of time, threw my dying friend (for such, amidst all her poverty, I rejoiced to call her) into a perfect transport of joy. She esteemed it a singular favour of Providence sent to her in her last moments as a token for good, and greeted it as a special mark of that loving kindness of God which should attend her for ever. She insisted, therefore, to be raised up in her bed, that she might bless God for it upon her knees, and with her last breath pray for her kind and generous benefactor, and for him who had been the instrument of directing his bounty into this channel. After this she soon expired, and with such tranquillity and sweetness as could not but most sensibly delight all who beheld her, and occasioned many who knew the circumstance to glorify God on her behalf.
The colonel's last residence at Northampton was in June and July 1742, when Lord Cadogan's regiment of dragoons was quartered here. Here I cannot but observe, that wherever that regiment came, it was remarkable not only for the fine appearance it made, and for the exactness with which it performed its various exercises, (of which it had about this time the honour to receive the most illustrious testimonials,) but also for the great sobriety and regularity of the soldiers. Many of the officers copied after the excellent pattern which they had daily before their eyes; and a considerable number of the private men seemed to be persons not only of strict virtue, but of serious piety. I doubt not but they found their abundant account in it, not only in the serenity and happiness of their own minds, which is beyond comparison the most important consideration; but also, in some degree, in the obliging and respectful treatment which they generally met with in their quarters. I mention this, because I am persuaded that if gentlemen of their profession knew, and would reflect, how much more comfortable they make their own quarters by a sober, orderly, and obliging conduct, they would be regular out of mere self love, if they were not influenced, as I heartily wish they may always be, by a nobler principle.