DOMESTIC RELATIONS.
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.
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.
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.