I S ^ ®luolo(5iciil f eminaviu FRI1\CET0X, y. J. BX 5255 .LA 18A6 Leighton, Robert, 1611-1684 The whole works of Robert Leighton, archbishop of Digitized by the Internet Archive . in 2015 https://archive.org/details/wholeworksofrobeOOIeig THE WHOLE WORKS or EGBERT LEIGHTON, D.D., AECHBISHOP OF GLASGOW. * TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, BY JOHN NORMAN PEARSON, M. A„ OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. Ovrw 6cuv Koi dvdp(jji:(i)v ddov Kai tvSaiiiovuv /?tof, dTraWayfi raiv aWwv tcm r^Se, iSiog dpfjdovos tuv rfitf (pvyij n6vov rrpds fjovov. — PloTINI EnNEAD. 6 L. C. xi. 9. WITH A TABLE OF THE TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE, AND AN INDEX OF THE SUBJECTS, COMPILED EXPRESSLY FOR THIS EDITION. NEW YORK:. PUBLISHED BY J. C. RIKER, 129 FULTON ST. PHILADELPHIA: GEORGE S. APPLETON. 1846. NOTICE. Having determined to issue the most perfect edition which could possibly be com- piled of the works of Archbishop Leighton, it became an object of solicitude to pro- cure the best European copies of his writings. Two editions, one published in London, in 1835, and the other at Edinburgh, in 1840, were designated as the most approved standard compilations. Upon a careful examination, however, it was discovered that the London work comprised materials which were not inserted in the Edinburgh edi- tion, and that the latter included some articles not found in the English copy. That this American reprint, therefore, might not be defective, it was resolved to combine the whole which was found in both series. This volume, therefore, is the only copy which contains the entire literary remains of the renowned ai;thor. But it was also perceived that both of the British editions exhibited a great defect. Neither of them possessed any reference at all to the subjects which the learned theo- logian had discussed ; so that the reader was utterly at a loss to ascertain in what part of the two volumes he must look for the illustration of either of the multifarious topics which the writer had imbodied in his commentaries, exhortations, lectures, medita- tions, sermons, and other expository discussions. This deficiency applied not only to the texts of Scripture, but also to the themes ; thus leaving the student in complete* perplexity, and depriving the reader of all that benefit which arises from the prompt acquisition of the knowledge that might be attained : giving him useless labor in re- search, and often wasting his time and toil for utter disappointment. To remedy that defect, and to facilitate the utility and edification comprised in this most important collection of theological disquisitions, and to render the work complete, two indexes have been prepared expressly for this edition. The first is a table of the texts of Scripture which are introduced, either as themes, or as corroborative proofs, which latter use of them often is equivalent to a comment. The second is a comprehensive and minute catalogue of all the principal subjects which are imbodied in the whole series of Archbishop Leighlon's works. The Publisher was induced thus to enhance the value of this edition, by the eminent rank which the Exposition of the First Epistle of Peter has attained — of which it has been pronounced, that an expository work upon any portion of the sacred volume can 4 NOTICE. not be named, which, for exalted devotion, and richness of evangelical sentiment, equals the annotations of Leighton. Moreover, the pre-eminence of the author him- self requires that his works should be presented to the American public in the most complete form practicable. His matchless superiority over all his ecclesiastical con- temporaries in Scotland, is known to all persons conversant with the history of the stormy period during which he resided in that part of Britain ; of which the Memoirs prefixed, and the Appendix, display ample and convincing proof. Mr. Pearson's nar- rative, and the addenda by Mr. Aikman, present to us a charming biographical por- traiture ; with illustrations of the perilous times during which the Archbishop lived, that enhance both the interest and value of the volume. New York, June 13, 1844. CONTENTS. Paok. Life of Archbishop Leighton 5 Preface by Dr. Doddridge 39 C ommentary on the First Epistle of Peter ... 63 124, 202, 282, 328 Meditations, critical and practical. . .357, 365, 370 Fragment on Psalm viii 381 Expository Lectures 385, 392, 404 Lectures on the Gospel by Matthew 41 1 SERMONS. L Heavenly Wisdom 441 IL The patient and docile Sufferer. . 446 in. Divine Glory of Zion 450 rV. Christ the Light and Lustre of the Church 454 V. Christ the Light and Lustre of the Church 459 VI. Hope amid Billows 464 VIL Generous Grief. 470 VIII. The name of Jesus fragrant 475 IX. The Sinner a Rebel against God 481 X. The true Christian the best Sub- ject....... 484 XI. Grapes from Thorns 490 XII. The Believer a Hero 495 • XIII. Parable of the Sower 500 XrV. The Promises an Encourasement to Holiness 503 XV. Grace and Obedience 505 XVI. Christian Triumph 509 XVII. Christian Triumph 512 XVIII. Goodness of God, and the Wick- edness of Man 515 XIX. Time to awake 519 XX. Observation of Providence 523 XXI. Imperfection and Perfection 527 XXII. Confidence of Faith 531 XXIII. Spiritual Privileges 535 XXIV. Folly of Man, and the Teaching of God 541 XXV. Mercy despised, and the Contempt punished 545 XXVI. Confession and Prayer of Faith . . 550 XXVII. Calamities cautiously interpreted 554 XXVIII. Present Duty 558 XXIX. Love the fulfilling of the Law. . . 560 XXX. The Law written'upon the Heart 562 XXXL God's End and Design in Affliction 564 XXXII. Suitable Exercise in Affliction ... 569 Sermon preached to the Clergy 574 Exposition of the Creed 58 1 Exposition of the Lord's Prayer 594 Page. Exposition of the Ten Commandments 619 Short Catechism 643 THEOLOGICAL LECTURES. 645 I. Introduction 646 II. Happiness — the desire of it im- planted in the human Heart. . . 649 III. Happiness of Man 650 IV. Human Felicity not in earthly Things 652 V. Immortality of the Soul 655 VL Happiness of the Life to come. . . 658 VIL Being of God 660 VIII. Worship of God, Providence, and the Law, given to Man 664 IX. Pleasure and Utility of Religion. . 666 X. Decrees of God 668 XL Creation of the World 670 XIL Creation of Man 673 XIIL Providence 675 XIV. Christ the Savior 680 XV. Regeneration 681 XVI. Regeneration 685 XVII. True Felicity and eternal Punish- ment 688 XVm. The Christian Religion the true Way to Happiness 690 XIX. Holiness is the only Happiness on this Earth ' 693 XX. Happiness in God 694 XXL Divine Attributes , 698 XXII. How to regulate Life, according to the Rules of Religion 700 XXin. Purity of Life 702 XXIV. Before the Communion. 704 Exhortation to Students 706 Exhortations to the Candidates for the De- gree of Master of Arts in the University of Edinburgh 708, 710, 711, 713, 715 716, 718, 720 Valedictory Oration 721 Moderate Episcopacy 723 Fragment on Ezra ix 725 Charges to the Clergy of the Synod of Dun- blane 726 Rules and Instructions for a holy Life 732 APPENDIX. Biographical Notices 739 Letters 759 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEiaHTOI. The name of Leighton occurs in some of the oldest annals of Scottish history. It be- longed to a reputable family, proprietary of the barony of Ulishaven, otherwise called Usan, which is a demesne in Craig, a con- siderable fishing-village in the county of For- far. Of this name the spelling is very va- rious, as Avill commonly be the case with the patronymic of a family of which the scattered vestiges appear, at wide intervals, in the wil- derness of the unlettered ages. It is spelt Leichtoune, Lichtoun, Lyghton, Lighten, and in several other fashions, which are not re- spectively fixed to certain dates, but seem to have obtained indiscriminately in the same eras. One may remark, however, that the modern orthography of the name is the same which presents itself in registers of the great- est antiquity. In the Rotuli Scotise, which have lately been published from the original records in the Tower, we read that A. D. 1374, John de Leighton, clericus de Scotia, obtained a safe-conduct to Oxford, there to prosecute his studies. Whether or not this zealot of literature were of the Usan race can not now be certainly determined. To the ancestors of that family, however, may be assigned the meed of sturdy warriors, on the authority of a quaint chronicle which re- lates, that " Schir Walter of OgUvy, that gud knycht, Stout and manful, bauld and wycht,'' being sheriff of Angus, was killed in 1392 at Gasklune or Glenbrerith near Blairgowrie in Perthshire, by a party of three hundred High- landers. Ogi'lvy, with Sir Patrick Gray, Sir David Lindsay of Glenesk, and about sixty men encotmtered the enemy. Gray aud Lind- say were wounded ; and Sir Walter Ogilvy, his uterine brother, Walter Leighton of Ulisha- ven, and some of their friends, were killed. Besides this testimony to the prowess of a Leighton in the days of feudal lawlessness, there is proof of the same family, in the be- ginning of the fifteenth century, having been inscribed in the lists of ecclesiastical dignity and political importance. Mention is made by Keith, in his Catalogue of Scottish Bish- ops, of one Henry Leighton, parson of Duf- fus and chantor of Moray, " legum doctor et baccalaureus in decretis," a son of the an- cient family of the Leightons of Ulishaven, who was consecrated Bishop of Moray, in 1414 or 1415, and was translated about ten years afterward to the see of Aberdeen. He Avas one of the commissioners sent to London to negotiate the ransom of James I., Avith whom he returned to Scotland ; where he is supposed to have died A. D. 1441. Although it may be received for a fact, that the subject of our memoir was descended of this ancient and respectable family, yet it has been found impossible to trace all the steps of his pedigree. The family itself had undoubtedly declined in wealth and credit, before the birth of the individual, who was destined to reflect upon it a new and transcendent lustre : for it is on record that, A. D. 1619, a part at least of its origi- nal estates had been alienated ; and in 1670, there is a grant imder the great seal to Charles Maitland of Halton of the barony of Ulishaven, escheated to the king by the death of John, Earl of Dundee, without male issue. The father of Archbishop Leighton was Dr. Alexander Leighton, a presbyterian cler- gyman of unhappy celebrity. His sufferings and the causes of them are notorious. In the reign of Charles I., he was sentenced by the Star-Chamber, for a virulent attack upon episcopacy, to be whipped and pilloried, to have his ears cropped, his nose slit, and his cheeks branded. This barbarous punish- ment was rigorously inflicted ; and to it were superadded, during a long imprisonment, such atrocious severities, as savored more of vindictive malignity than of judicial retribu- tion. No apology would be valid, or even decent, for cruelties, which were alike re- volting to justice, to humanity, and to re- ligion. That the wretched sufferer, how- ever, was of a cross, untowardly disposition. 8 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. may be conjectured from his having brought himself under the lash of the law, in the preceding reign, by stubbornly refusing to abandon the irregular practice of medicine. There is a fact, moreover, not generally known, which may account for the extreme rigor with which his subsequent offences were visited. Not only was the book, for which he was so maltreated, and which is entitled " Zion's Plea against Prelacy," out- rageously scurrilous and inflammatory in its contents, but there were collateral circum- stances attending its publication, that be- tokened a mischievous purpose in the writer. In the first edition, neither the name of the author nor of the printer is given, and in- stead of the date in the usual way, we find — "Printed the year and moneth wherein Rochell was lost." The frontispiece exhibits on one page a lamp burning, supported by a book, and guarded by two men with drawn swords ; which hieroglyphic is explained by the legend : — " Prevailing prelats strive to quench our light, Except your sacred power quash their might." On the other page is the representation of an antique, dilapidated tower. Out of its ruins grows an elder-bush, from the branches of which several bishops are tumbling, one of them holding in his hand a large box. This device is interpreted by the motto : — The tottering prelats, with their trumpery, all, Shall moulder down, like elder from a wall." The place of Archbishop Leighton's birth has been much debated It is commonly be- lieved that he was a native of London ; on the strength, I imagine, of Burnet's asser- tion, that he was sent thence to be ed- ucated in Scotland. This, however, is in- ferring too much : for he may have been car- ried up, in his infancy, from Scotland to London, when his father settled in that city. Craig also claims him for her son : but this claim seems to have no stronger foundation, than the fact of his direct or collateral an- cestors having been considerable proprietors in that village : a fact too weak to sustain the hypothesis raised on it by the inhabit- ants, through a virtuous solicitude to make out their affinity with so eminent a person. To my mind there are unanswerable rea- sons for assigning that distinction to Edin- burgh. In the inscription on his tombstone, Leighton is said to have died in his 74th year ; and deducting 73 from 1684, the un- disputed year of his decease, we shall have 1611 for the year of his nativity. The same amount is obtained by deducting 30, the number of his years when he took orders, from 1641, which is the date of that transac- tion. Now his father was at that time pro- fessor of moral philosophy in Edinburgh col- lege, and did not go up to London until two years afterward ;* and it is certainly to be • See Chalmer's Biograph. Diet. presumed, not a shadow of evidence appear- ing to the contrary, that the son was bom in the place wherein the father was then re- siding. He had one brother, of whom men- tion will be made hereafter, who was younger than he ; and two sisters, one of whom was married to a Mr. Lightmaker, a gentleman of landed property in Sussex ; and the other to Mr. Rathband, as appears from a single allusion in one of her brother's letters. Of his early years there is left but a scanty though valuable notice. It comes to us on the unquestionable authority of his sister, that his singular teachableness and piety, from his tenderest age, endeared him greatly to his parents ; who used to speak with ad- miration of his extraordinary exemption from childish faults and follies. At college his behavior was so uniformly excellent, as to attract the nOtice of his su- periors ; and one of them, in a letter to Dr. Leighton, congratulates him on having a son, in whom Providence has made him abundant compensation for his sufferings. There is still in existence a humorous poem on Dr. Aikenhead, warden of the college, which Leighton wrote when an undergradu- ate. It evinces a good-natured playfulness of fancy, but it not of a merit that calls for publication. After taking his degree, Leighton passed several years in travel, and in the studies proper to qualify him for future usefulness. It was his mature opinion, that great advantages are to be reaped from a residence in foreign parts ; masmuch as a large acquaintance with the sentiments of strangers, and with the civil and religious institutions, the man- ners and usages of other countries, conduces to unshackle the mind of indigenous preju- dices, to abate the self-sufficiency of partial knowledge, and to produce a sober and charitable estimate of opinions that differ from our own. Many years afterward, he recommended a similar course to his nephew, alleging, that there is a very peculiar ad- vantage in travel, not to be understood but by the trial of it ; and that for himself he nowise repented the time he had spent in that way." During his stay abroad, Leighton was often at Douay, where some of his relations were settled. In this seminary he appears to have met with some religionists, whose lives were framed on the strictest model of primitive piety. Though keenly alive to the faults of popery, he did not consider the Ro- mish church to be utterly antichristian ; but thought he discerned in it beautiful frag- ments of the original temple, however dis- figured with barbarous additions, and almost hid beneath the rampant growth of a bale- ful superstition. Having learnt from these better portions of that corrupt establishment, that its constitutions were not altogether dross, he went on to discover that the frame of his own church was not entirely gold : THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 9 nor (lid it escape him, that in the indiscrim- inate extermination, so clamorously de- manded in Scotland, of all those offices of devotion, which symbolized with the Ro- man catholic services, there would be swept away some of the noblest formularies and most useful institutes of the primitive church. It was probably from this period that his veneration for the presbyterian platform be- gan to abate. He was thirty years old before he took holy orders ; and in postponing it to so ripe an age his entrance on the ministry, as well as in retiring so early as he did from its more laborious province, he acted agreeably to his avowed opinion, that '* some men preach too soon, and some too long." His judgment of what is most reverent toward God corre- sponded with those canons of the Levitical economy, which prescribe a mature age for engaging in the more arduous department of the sacerdotal office, and grant an honorable superannuation at that period of life, when the strength of mind and body commonly begins to decay. It was on the sixteenth day of December, A. D. 1641, that Leighton was ordained and admitted minister of New- boitle, in Midlothian, a parish in the presby- tery of Dalkeith. All diligence has been used to retrieve traditional reminiscences of the manner in which this holy man dis- charged the duties of the office', in under- taking which he had evinced so much reli- gious caution. But research has been fruit- less. No distinct traces remain of those pa- rochial ministrations, which doubtless fill an ample page in that book of the Divine re- membrance, from which no work of faith, no labor of love, is ever obliterated. Of the general tenor, however, of his life and ministerial occupations, we have a few short but invaluable notices in Burnet's His- tory of his own Time. Engrossed with the care of his parish, he seldom mixed in the convocations of the presbyters, whose prac- tice of descanting on the Covenant from the pulpit he greatly disapproved ; and still more their stern determination to force that bitter morsel on conscientious objectors. It was his aim not to win proselytes to a party, but converts to Jesus Christ'. And exemplary indeed must he have been, since the picture of a finished evangelist, which his intimate friend has drawn in the beautiful Discourse of the Pastoral Care, was correctly copied from the lively pattern exhibited b'y Leigh- ton. Yet the blameless sanctity of his man- ners, his professional excellence, and his stu- dious inoffensiveness, were not enough to content the zealots of his church. In a synod he was publicly reprimanded for not "preaching up the times." "Who," he asked, " does preach up the times?" It was answered that all the brethren did it. " Then," he rejoined, " if all of you preach up the times, you may surely allow one poor brother to preach up Cfirist Jesus and eternitv. " 2 Although Leighton was averse, both by temper and principle, from meddling with politics, yet there were certain conjunctures of perplexity and peril, in which he though himself bound to set an example to his flock of intrepid loyalty. In the year 1648, he ac- ceded to the Engagement for the King ; a step which would have involved him in se- rious trouble with the republican govern- ment, but for the interposition of the Earl of Lothian, and the charms of his personal character. When the Engagement expired, in the discomfiture of those enterprises to which it had given birth, he was placed in a very delicate predicament ; in which, how- ever, his behavior was not less creditable to his political discretion, than to his Christian boldness and integrity. Called upon in his official capacity to admonish some of his parishioners, after they had mac'e a public profession of repentance, for being actively concerned in that Engagement to which he himself had subscribed, he directed their consciences to the many ofi'ences against morality and religion which they had com- mitted in the course of their military ser- vice ; and of these, without touching on the grounds of the expedition and the merits of their cause, he solemnly charged them to j repent. I About this time, we find him in correspond- ence with several of the episcopal clergy, I and especially with Bishop Burnet's father. I His mind seems to have been led by observa- I tion of the faults under which the presbyte- ' rian disciple labors, to an attentive examina- I tion of the episcopal form, against which he ' had imbibed the strongest aversion with his ' mother's milk : an aversion, which would gather strength from sympathy with his fa- ther, of whose martyrdom, as he would be I taught to esteem it, his soul must have ; drunk in a deep resentment. Although Leighton never considered any particular j mode of ecclesiastical polity a point of suffi- I cient moment to justify schism, yet it is 1 clear that from this time he regarded the j episcopal model as adapted, beyond any , other, to the edification of the church uni- I versal. Assuredly it was no prospect of secular preferment that helped him to shake off the prepossessions of his early years ; for his worldly interest pointed another way. Besides, conversions to which unrighteous mo- tives have conduced, are usually character- ized by extraordinary bitterness against the deserted party ; whereas Leighton, after he was become a moderate episcopalian, breath- ed nothing but good-will and kindness tow- ard his former associates. He wholly se- questered himself, indeed, from their legis- lative conclaves, and at length relinquished his cure. But he took this last step, not from any scruple about continuing to officiate in a church framed on the Genevese platform, but from a hearty repugnance to that system of spiritual despotism, which had been linked 10 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. by violent and ambitious men with the cause of the presbytery. It must have been in the latter part of his residence atNewbottle that a calamity befell him, which elicited a striking manifestation of his indifference to money, of his large- heartedness and piety. At his father's death , he came into possession of about a thousand pounds ; which sum was, in fact, his whole property. This he placed, or suffered to re- main, in the hands of a merchant without adequate security ; notwithstanding the re- monstrances of Mr. Lightmaker, his brother- in-law, who urged him to come up to Lon- don and vest it more safely. Leighton's re- ply to this good counsel is very characteristic. Sir : I thank you for your letter. That you give me notice of I desire to consider as becomes a Christian, and to prepare to wait for my own removal. What business follows upon my father's may be well enough done without me, as I have writ more at large to Mr. E , and desired him to show you the letter when you meet. Any pittance belong- ing to me may possibly be useful and need- ful for my subsistence ; but truly, if some- thing else draw me not, I shall never bestow so long a journey on that I account so mean a business. Remember my love to my sister your wife, and to my brother and sister Rathband, as you have opportunity. I am glad to hear of the welfare of you all, and above all things, wish for myself and you all our daily increase in likeness to Jesus Christ, and growing heavenward, where he is who is our treasure. To his grace I recommend you. " Sir, your affectionate brother, " R. Leighton. ''December 31, 1649. " Before long, the event anticipated by Mr. Lightmaker took place. The merchant fail- ed, and Leighton's patrimony was irretriev- ably lost. How he took this misfortune may be learned from the following letter to his brother-in-law : — " Sir : Your kind advice I can not but thank you for, but I am not easily taught that les- son. I confess it is the wiser way to trust nobody ; but there is so much of the fool in my nature as carries me rather to the other extreme, to trust everybody. Yet I will en- deavor to take the best courses I can in that little business you write of. It is true there is a lawful, yea a needful diligence in such things ; but, alas ! hov/ poor are they to the portion of believers, where our treasure is. " That little that was in M r. E.'s hands hath failed me ; but I shall either have no need of it, or be supplied some other way. And this is the relief of my rolling thoughts, that while I am writing this, this moment is pas- sing away, and all the hazards of want and sickness shall be at an end. My mother writes to me, and presses my coming up. I know not yet if that can be ; but I intend, God willing, so soon as I can conveniently, if I come not, to take some course that things be done as if I were there. I hope you will have patience in the meantime. Remember my love to my sisters. The Lord be with you, and lead you in his ways Your loving brother, R. Leighton. ''Newhottle, Feb. 4, 1650." Being in England some time afterward, his recent loss was touched upon by Mr. Lightmaker, who reg/'etted that he had so sadly misplaced his confidence. Oh ! no more of that," cried Leighton ; " the good man has escaped from the care and vexation of that business." " What, is that all you make of the matter?" rejoined his brother- in-law with surprise. Truly," answered the other, " if the Duke of Newcastle, after losing nineteen times as much of yearly in- come, can dance and sing, while the solid hopes of Christianity will not avail to sup- port us, we had better be as the world." Somewhere about this time — for the date can not be assigned with certainty — there happened an accident which drew forth a proof of his admirable self-possesion in the sudden prospect of death. He had taken the water at the Savoy stairs, in company with his brother Sir Ellis, his lady, and some others, and was on his way to Lambeth, when, owing to some mismanagement, the boat was in imminent danger of going to the bottom. While the rest of the party were pale with terror, and most of them crying out, Leighton never for a moment lost his accustomed serenity. To some, who after- ward expressed their astonishment at his calmness, he replied : Why, what harm would it have been, if we had all been safe landed on the other side ?" In the habit of dying daily, and of daily conversing with the world of spirits, he could never be surprised or disconcerted by a summons to depart out of the body. Another anecdote of him, which bears witness to his devout equanimity on perilous occasions, belongs to this period of his his- tory. During the civil wars, when the roy- alist army was lying in Scotland, Leighton Avas anxious to visit his brother, who bore arms in the king's service, before an engage- ment which was daily expected should take place. On his way to the camp he was be- nighted in the midst of a vast thicket ; and having deviated from the path, he sought in vain for an outlet. Almost spent with fa- tigue and hunger, he began to think his sit- uation desperate, and dismounting he spread his cloak upon the ground, and knelt down to pray. With implicit devotion he resigned his soul to God ; entreating, however, that if it were not the divine pleasure for him then to conclude his days, some way of deliver- ance might be opened. Then remounting THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 11 his horse, he threw the reins upon its neck ; and the animal, left to itself, or rather to the conduct of an Almighty Providence, made straight into the high road, thridding all the mazes of the wood with unerring certainty. In the year 1652, after eleven years of close residence on his cure, Leighton tendered his resignation to the presbytery. At first it was declined, but in the year following they were induced to accept it ; and on Feb. 3, 1653, his ministerial connexion with New- bottle was dissolved. Shortly after this af- fair, he was chosen primar or principal of the university of Edinburgh, a situation which he was prevailed upon to accept, be- cause it was totally unconnected with the church as a body politic. It was hardly possible that, at such a period of civil dis- sension, his election should be unanimous ; but although it was not cordially approved of by all parties, yet such was the homage paid to his uncommon merit, that it encoun- tered no direct opposition. It appears that, upon the death of Principal Adamson in 1652, Mr. William Colville, at that time minister of the English church at Utrecht, was elected. But in consequence of some obstructions" ( as the phrase runs in the Council Register of Edinburgh), the nature of which is not explained, the election was set aside on the 17th of January, 1653, one year's stipend being allowed to the deposed warden, to compensate his trouble and ex- pense in coming over from Holland. As this gentlemen was known for his monarchical principles, it is probable that the obstruc- tions hinted at proceeded from Oliver Crom- well ; for it is certain that, about this time, tiie principals of King's college, Aberdeen, of G-lasgow, and of St. Andrew's, paid the forfeit of their stubborn loyalty with their academical places. The selfsame day on which the office was declared vacant, Leigh- ton was chosen to it. The mmisters of the city, who were partial to Colville, a man of real worth and talent, assisted at the election of his successor in obedience to the charter, but refused to concur in it ; at the same time expressing a wish that their attend- ance could have been dispensed with, since they were content with the man, though not clear in the manner of the call."* In this situation he was eminently useful. One of his earliest measures was to revive the obsolete practice of delivering, once in the week, a Latin lecture on some theologi- cal subject. These prelections, which are fortunately preserved, attracted such general admiration, that the public hall in which he pronounced them used lo be thronged with auditors, who were all enchanted with the purity of his style, and with his animated delivery. To the students under his care he was indefatigably attentive, instructing them singly as well as collectively ; and to many * See Bower's Hist, of the Univ. of Edin . vol. i., pp. 261, 263, &c. youths of capacity and distinction his wise and affectionate exhortations were lastingly beneficial. Of his proceedings, while he held this academical post, some particulars are ex- tant, which bespeak him gifted with talents for active business. Two years after his ap- pointment, he was deputed by the Provost and Council, to apply to the Protector in London, for an augmentation of the revenues of the college. A minute of the Town Coun- cil Register indicates that his mission was successful. The year following, he called the atten- tion of the magistrates to a report of some suspicious houses having been detected in the neighborhood of the college ; and the ef- fectual measures were set on foot, at his in- stigation, for extirpating the nuisance. Neither was he regardless of those subor- dinate establishments, to which, as they were not comprehended within the immedi- ate circle of his duties, a principal of austerer dignity, or of inferior zeal, might not have condescended. Observing that the collegi- ans made little way in the higher branches of science and literature, he searched into the cause of their deficiency, and quickly found it in the want of a sound rudimental education. For the cure of this evil he pro- posed that grammar-schools should be found- ed in the several presbyteries, and be suita- bly endowed ; and he advised that Cromwell should be solicited to assign the funds requi- site for this purpose " out of the concealed revenues of the Kirk rents." He further rec- ommended that some elementary grammar, part English and part Latin, should be com- piled for the use of these seminaries ; and in order to take immediate advantage of the Protector's bounty, should he graciously ac- cede to their petition, he moved that instruc- tions be issued forthwith to magistrates, ministers, and masters of families, enjoining them to set about obtaining a "■ Locality" for the proposed establishments. In the same year he offered to preach in the college hall to the scholars, once on the sabbath of every third or fourth week, taking turns with the professors ; an offer which ap- pears to have been accepted by the Town Council. Bound up with the book entitled Naphtali, is a letter from James Mitchell, the stern fanatic, who suffered for his attempt on the life of Archbishop Sharp. In this letter he vindicates himself for the part he took in the Pentland insurrection, on the ground of his having been required, at college, to sub- scribe the National Covenant, and the Sol- emn League and Covenant, which were ten- dered to him along with the other candi- dates for Laureation, A. D. 1656, by the Prin- cipal Leighton.* There seems no reason to question the veracity of this statement. It was quite consistent with Leighton's princi- * See Naphtali, 1761, p. 373 ; and Wodrow MSS. 12 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. pies to submit to existing authorities ; and to consider this or the other form of govern- ment, whether in church or state, a point of vastly inferior importance to concord and quietness. Against the matter of the cove- nants he seems not to have entertained, at that time, any strong objection, but only to their being made engines of tyrannizing over men's consciences, and oppressing their per- sons. Assuredly he would not himself have issued an order for withholding degrees from the scholars till they had professed their al- legiance to the dominant system. Still it would be a high pitch of censoriousness, to find Leighton in fault for proposing to the students, in his official capacity, a test of their attacliment to the existing order of things ; it being certain, moreover, that the majority would accept it cordially, and the pain of declining it being only the suspension of an academical degree. Leighton retained the situation of Princi- pal in the University of Edinburgh till the year 1662, when a very unexpected call obliged him to resign it ; and his successor was the same Mr, Colville, into whose chair he had been preferred, when that gentle- man's election was superseded by Cromwell, as related above. The course of our history has brought us to an epoch, which may be reckoned the most important of Leighton's life ; — the epoch of his inauguration to the episcopal office in Scotland. It was not to be expected that this son of a noted confessor in the cause of ecclesiastical parity should be allowed to transfer his allegiance to prelacy, without incurring censures of the sharpest edge. In the spring-tide of religious and civil bigotry, such a deed was sure to undergo the most unfavorable construction ; for even in the present day, when every grudge has died away between the two national churches, Presbyterian writers commonly regard this transaction as a sable spot on the character of Leighton, which it is a large stretch of char- ity 10 impute solely to a misleading judgment. Being myself satisfied, after attentive exami- nation, that neither his understanding nor his heart was in the wrong on this occasion, I shall hope to be excused if I attempt to set his conduct in its true light, by prefacing the particulars of his elevation to the bench, with a succinct account of the religious con- dition of Scotland at that period. Charles II., when first he recovered the usurped throne of his fathers, was welcomed with every demonstration of delight. To the eyes of an excited multitude, his return was that of a tutelary deity, whose exile had shed a blight upon their wealth and happiness, and with whose presence their civil and religious prosperity was identified. Throughout the country this event was cele- brated with intemperate festivities. The whole nation was in a phrensy of joy, and seemed anxious to indemnify itself for the restraints which puritanical austerity had imposed, by giving the loose reign to indul- gences that were but too congenial with the young king's disposition, and that fostered in him those licentious habits which have con- signed his reign to the most ignominious page of English history. It is remarkable that Scotland shared largely, as Kirkton pathetic- ally owns, in the popular intoxication. A covenanted prince established on the throne of the British islands, was such a proud spec- tacle, as unhinged the habitual sobriety of the rigid presbyterians ; and the few who escaped the extensive contagion sought lonely places and wept, declaring that this *' mirth ran in too carnal a strain," to betoken any good to the cause in which it originated. The state of the English church at this juncture is so generally known, that to de- scribe it would be superflous. By the iron hand of Cromwell episcopacy had been dis- placed, to make way for the congregational discipline which was brought in over the heads of the outwitted and indignant presby- terians. But the temper of the English na- tion was ill-suited to this ecclesiastical con- stitution, which was generally borne with impatience, and melted away like a snow- wreath, the instant it felt the touch of re- viving monarchy. Little time was lost in removing the intrusive ministers from the benefices, collegts, and other preferments of which they had possessed themselves ; nor did any material disturbance result from the discontent of the ousted party In the fa- cility with which the re-establishment of episcopacy was effected, there was nothing to surprise a considerate observer. The Cran- mers, the Ridleys, the Latimers, the Hoop- ers, the Jewels, who had borne the brunt of that dreadful contest in which this nation burst the chains of a debasing superstition ; ^ these mitred confessors and martyrs were canonized in every English bosom ; whereas of the advantages peculiar to the presbyterian economy, the experience had been short and unsatisfactory. Hence no movement could be easier in England than a recurrence to the episcopal constitution. But far other were the predilections of our northern brethren. However just the claim of episcopacy may be to the filial reverence of the church of Scotland, it is nevertheless notorious that, at the dawn of the Reforma- tion, the dignitaries of that church opposed the current of popular feeling and opinion ; and by cruelties not less impolitic than wick- ed, exasperated to the utmost a nation always strongly tenacious of its sentiments, and of its resentments of real or supposed injuries. The reformation of Scotland originated with teachers of the Lutheran persuasion, by whom neither a liturgical service, nor a graduated scale of ecclesiastical authorities, was accounted a popish abomination. But some of Calvin's disciples, to whom it fell to complete the excellent work, not content THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 13 with introducing their master's doctrinal code as the only true interpretation of the gospel, coupled with it his plan of church polity, as hardly inferior in sanctity and im- portance to his theological system itself. None but a novice in human nature will be indignant at the early reformers for pushing to an enormous extent their abhorrence of whatever savored of popery. Yet assuredly it was excessive. Those especially of the Genevese church seem to have measured their proximity to the somid and wholesome institutes of Christ and his apostles, by their remoteness from whatever obtained in Rome, whether of doctrine or discipline ; and this sentiment, not feeble in its influence on the minds of the educated teachers, became fierce and outrageous through its union with ani- mal passions, when transfused into the breasts of the uncivilized multitude. To Knox, and to his fellow-helpers in cleansing the Scottish temple, the homage of reformed Christendom is due. Chieftains were they among heroes, " Giants of mighty bone and bold emprise," who achieved what men of the plebeian standard would not have dared even to con- template ; and whose successes in a warfare of extraordinary difficulty have raised an imperishable monument to their rare endow- ments, to their sleepless zeal, their intrepid boldness, their uncompromising honesty, their sublime devotion. Yet it can not be disguised that nothing graceful appears in their robust and sinewy proportions. They were rough artificers, and they worked with rough tools ; preferring a rapid execution of their project by main force to the tardier re- sults of address and dexterity. Much might be urged to extenuate, and even to justify the violence of their procedures. It is not, how- ever, my present business to calculate the merits, or to palliate the errors of the great Scotch reformers ; a task which has been ably executed by Dr. M'Crie in his interest- ing life of John Knox. But I have thought it expedient just to glance at the subject in order that the reader, when carried into scenes in which the jealous attachment of Scotchmen to presbyterianism breaks out, may have his mind constantly awake to the fact, that it was under the presbyterian ban- ner that protestantism triumphed in their land. To this it was owing that, in vulgar estimation, the pure faith of the gospel was so incorporated with the Calvinistic form of church-government, as to be unable to sur- vive a separation. A shrine, framed exactly on that pattern was deemed indispensable for obtaining the inhabitation of the Deity. Accordingly when James [. endeavored, tow- ard the close of the sixteenth century, to impose a moderate kind of episcopacy on Scotland, his enterprise, though conducted as stealthily as possible, and with character- istic craft, was met by a resistance under which it soon expired. With the disastrous attempts of his son to assimilate the kirk to its sister church, by reviving prelacy and in- troducing a liturgy, every reader of English history is familiar. It were to be wished that the second Charles had learnt from these miscarriages the fatal folly of violently med- dling with national prejudices, and of mak- ing such headlong inroads into the sanctuary of the conscience, as men of principle and honor will resist at every hazard. So it was, however, that one of the earliest measures of his flagitious reign was an attempt to force back on the good people of Scotland that ecclesiastical discipline which they had so recently and loathingly repudiated. To this attempt, which would have been unwise in any monarch, and in Charles, was base and unprincipled, we may notice some strong inducements. Foremost among these may be placed the strong disgust that prince had conceived at the covenanters. He had certainly been hard ridden by them when struggling for the throne ; and he well knew that, in promoting his restoration they had not been actuated by attachment to his per- son, but solely by the hope that a monarch who should owe to their sword the recovery of his crown, would prove a pillar of the kirk, a corner-stone of the presbyterian tem- ple- Charles, however, whose memory had a rare facility of shaking oS* claims upon his gratitude, forgot the services of the par- ty which had lavished its blood in his be- half, but remembered the humiliations by which those services had been purchased. Nor can it be doubted that he had, in this enterprise, a view to the erection of an abso- lute throne ; an hereditary propensity, which would doubtless be augmented by the blow that had recently alighted on his family from the popular arm of the British constitu- tion ; and to which a new edge had been given by the display he had witnessed in the French court of the manifold attractions of an irresponsible despotism. He conceived, moreover, that through episcopacy a door might be opened, in process of time, for the admission of popery ; a religion which he is reasonably suspected to have adopted, not from a conscientious preference of its doc- trines, but from observing that its external frame was excellently adapted to help for- ward his arbitrary designs. He was further urged on by mercenary intriguers, who pic- tured Scotland to him with her arms already open to embrace an hierarchical establish- ment ; and when these representations were enforced by the counsels of his ablest minis- ters, he no longer hesitated to begin an ex- periment to which he had from the first been prompted by his personal sentiments, al- though his good understanding had somewhat delayed it. • As far as the accomplishment of the pro- ject was concerned, it was apparently sound policy to set about it before presbyterianism 14 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. had recovered from the shock it had received during Cromwell's usurpation, and while the nation's bridal enthusiasm at the union with its desired sovereign was still brisk and mantling. Whether it would have been practicable, as some have imagined, by ta- king advantage of the suspicions which the presbyterians harbored of the independents, to insinuate by furtive gradations a moderate form of episcopacy, it is not our present business to debate. But had the scheme been ever so wise and excellent, it could hardly have been brought to a fortunate issue by the agents to whose conduct it was intrusted. To have given it a fair chance of success, there should have been employed upon it. men of experience, abilities, and vir- tue ; men equally wary and resolute ; deli- cate in managing national prejudices, and strong to arrest or skilful to turn, the stream of epidemical passions ; men of popular tal- ent and conciliatory address ; and whose mor- al and religious character would stamp some credit on proceedings, which, how much so- ever sweetened, must still have left behind a hitter relish. But instead of such a choice being made, the royal commission was given to Middle- ton, a man of base origin and baser manners, obstinate, choleric, licentious, and cruel. His coadjutor was Dr. James Sharp, whose mem- ory is still execrated by the presbyterian church, end whose virtues were not of suffi- cient magnitude, even in the eyes of his own party, for his tragical end to secure him the reputation of a martyr. By his enemies he is branded with every atrocious epithet which malevolence can coin or utter ; his political offences are aggravated ; his person- al character is blackened. That religious bigotry has mangled his corse will be clear to any one, who shall calmly distinguish au- thentic facts from baseless and improbable allegations. Whoever peruses the narratives of Wodrow and Kirkton, will feel bound to receive their charges against Sharp with no common jealousy, on observing how little careful those historians themselves are to weigh him in an even balance. Bishop Bur- net, whose delineations are occasionally tinctured with private dislikes, has left a very ill-favored portrait of his moral charac- ter ; describing him as devoid of serious re- ligion, an artful sycophant, whose integrity readily truckled to his worldly interests. On the other hand, some favorable representa- tions of him have appeared. It has been averred that in the heavy charge of having betrayed his party he is cruelly belied ; inas- much as he had ceased, before he was made a bishop, to hold any commission from the presbyterian body, and was agent at that time for only one part of the ministers, with whom he had a perfect iinderslanding. Of his liberality also such testimonies have been adduced, as it would beuncandid lo disallow. The truth probably is, that Sharp was honest so long as his honesty was unassailed by considerable temptations ; but he was not proof against the bait of a mitre. Having neither firmness of principle, nor tenderness of conscience, nor delicacy of honor, he might easily persuade himself that, since no opposition on his part could check the re- fluent tide of episcopacy, to rise with it to the summit of wealth and dignity would be no inaudible wisdom. For the great afi'airs intrusted to him by the English government he wanted compass of mind and amenity of temper; and he was still more disqualified for conducting them successfully, by the ut- ter disrepute into which he had fallen with his countrymen. But he was an industrious man, of some versatility of talent and dexter- ity in business ; and these useful qualities, combined w4th those prime requisites for currying favor with an unprincipled court, a supple conscience, a patient obsequiousness, and a wheedling tongue, attracted the royal notice, and merited for him the primacy of Scotland. Matters being thus far advanced toward restoring the episcopal regimen, the next business was to find persons qualified for its highest stations. Sydserf, formerly Bishop of Galloway, was the only survivor of that order of dignitaries in Scotland. He was now appointed to Orkney, the least laborious see, and therefore the best adapted to a man almost past his work, but who could not, without receiving a slur on his character, be omitted in the roll of new bishops. After Sharp had secured the primacy by worming himself into the good graces of Lord Claren- don, the appointments to the inferior sees were given very much into his hands. We have Burnet's assertion, and it is corroborated by authenticated facts, that his choice was generally very bad. Yet in company with the names of Fairfowl, Hamilton, and Alex- ander Burnet, we find the venerable name of Robert Leighton : — " quale per artem Inclusum buxo, aut Oricia tcrebintho, Lucet ebur." Of this nomination, however, the credit is denied to Sharp ; and it does seem impos- sible that he should have approved it, unless he were ignorant, which he hardly could be, of Leighton's character. The following are the circumstances which led to the exaltation of this extraordinary man to a sphere of stormy greatness, where- in his apostolic virtues gilded the gloom, which it exceeded even their influence to dispel. During the collegial vacations, Leighton was in the custom of making excursions into England, or across the seas, partly for the benefit of his health, and partly with a view of gaining a clear insight into the state of religious parties and opinions. He was pas- sing homeward through London, after a visit to Bath, when he was first mentioned to the THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 15 king as a desirable person to include among the new bishops, by Lord Aubigny, a noble- man high in favor at court, as well on ac- count of his being a papist, and privy to Charles's apostacy, as because his libertine principles were congenial with those of his graceless sovereign. With this powerful courtier Sir Ellis Leighton, secretary to the Puke of York, was on terms of intimacy ; and having himself turned papist from mer- cenary motives, he now desired with no higher views, the conversion of his brother into a bishop. He was a man of talent, specious and aspiring ; and he pretended to a piety which his dissolute life belied. Im- agining that a mitre in his family would aug- ment his personal consequence, and thereby conduce to his further aggrandisement, he was at pains to possess the mind of Lord Aubigny with a high conceit of the advan- tages that would ensue from appointing a man like Robert Leighton to nurse the criti- cal infancy of the episcopal church. Charles, who never wanted penetration, \^as not hard to be persuaded that the likeliest way to sooth the covenanters, and accredit the meditated innovation, was to invest with the lawn a divine of such superlative merit, so accomplished in learning, and so beloved for his mild and saintlike virtues. This would indeed be to cloak the prelatic wolf in sheep's clothing. Entertaining also an opin- ion, the proper spawn of a mind steeped in profligacy, that every man's conscience ac- commodates itself to his interests, he never doubted but Leighton might be wrought upon by his brother to acquiesce in episco- pacy being made a stalkinghorse to cover the approaches of popery. On this he probably counted with the great- er assurance in consequence of a current re- port, that Leighton was not unfriendly to some parts of the pontifical constitutions; a report which seems to have taken its rise from his paying occasional visits to the college at Douay, and to have been countenanced by his celibacy, his ascetic habits, and an admi- ration for some of the disciples of Jansenius, which he was too highminded and ingenuous to dissemble. It was, indeed, more than in- sinuated, that he was too liberally affected toward the catholics for a stanch and thor- ough protestant ; and the capimendations he bestowed on the works of Thomas a Kempis in his public lectures, did not escape severe animadversions. To attempt a serious con- futation of this slander would be to grapple with a shadow. Leighton's writings abound with brief but decisive refutations of those Roman catholic tenets, which it was the essence of the reformation to abjure ; and their whole spirit and tenor are diametrically opposite to the self-righteous formalities and Unscriptural impositions, which are inter- woven with the very substance of that adul- terous system. So long as the current of passion bore down, with undistinguishing fury upon whatever was suspected, wheth- er in doctrine or practice, of being cog- nate to papistry, it was worthy of his be- nignant and liberal spirit to do what he could toward clearing away prejudices, by which the mind was prevented from seeing clearly to eliminate the faults, without ex- cluding the excellences of the catholic rit- ual. But when he perceived that a contrary and more dangerous current had set in from the English court, and that nothing less was designed that to restore to the Vatican its ascendency, he then exposed the deformity of the church of Rome in such unsparing terms as nothing but a deep apprehension of the impending evil could have extorted from a man of his forbearance and charity. Leighton was very averse from his own promotion ; and in his nephew's account I find him stating, that his reluctance to acqui- esce in it was only overcome by a perempto- ry order of the court, requiring him to accept it, unless he thiught in his conscience that the episcopal office was unlawful. Unable to screen himself behind this opinion, which he was far from entertaining, he surrendered at length to the royal instances, that he might not incur the guilt of contumacy toward the king ; or of shrinking from a service, to which a greater Potentate seemed to summon him. Perhaps this transaction, which has been thought to cast a shade over his constancy and disinterestedness, may appear to the can- did and intelligent reasoner, when thoroughly sifted, to exhibit those qualities with singular lustre. Taking in the whole system of his life before and after his consecration, we see him an example of modesty, gravity, and ha- bitual recollection of spirit ; a despiser of riches, and show, and figure, and selfish in- dulgences ; an exile in heart from this world of sensible objects ; one, whose prime delight it was to dwell in solitary converse with his God, and with the things that are invisible and eternal. To suppose that a man of this make and these habits was carried out of himself by a flush of ambition or vanity, that precluded all due consideration of the man- ner in which his elevation would affect his credit, his conscience, and his happiness, is to suppose a phenomenon, that could only be made credible by evidence, which in this case is totally wanting. ' Covetousness could never be laid to his charge without a con- tempt of historical testimony, too indecent for his keenest enemies to venture on. When, moreover, the soundness of his understand- ing, and the rigor with which he used to canvass his own conduct and motives, are taken into the account, some presumption that he acted rightly, under all the circum- stances of the case, in taking this perilous step, must be admitted to arise from his never repenting of it ; neither when he was laboriously sowing in tears, nor when, at the sad conclusion of his episcopal labors, he 16 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. reaped a plentiful harvest of obloquy, disap- pointment, and sorrow. Not long after his advancement, when some of his former friends upbraided him with his dereliction of his father's principles, contumeliously term- ing it apostacy, he calmly answered that no man was bound to be of his father's opinions ; and whenever he was challenged to vindicate the obnoxious step he had taken, he manifest- ed a frankness and good humor, which could not have subsisted on any terms with an of- fended conscience. What then remains but to believe that this transaction was in strict accordance with his magnanimous character ? that it was an act of self-immolation at the altar of Christian love ; a deliberate surrender of his constant inclinations, and of present ease and quiet, to the exigencies of the church, for whose sake he accounted no affliction too severe, no service too laborious, no sacrifice too costly ? Fortunately there is a letter preserved, writ- ten at the time he was ii# suspense about accepting a bishopric, in which he discloses, with touching ingenuity and pathos, the workings of his holy soul. I here insert it as a document of great interest, throwing light on this part of our history, and beauti- fully illustrating the conflict of his mind, be- fore it was subdued to this great effort of duty. The letter is to the Rev. Mr. James Aird, minister at Torry. Mt Dear Friend : I have received from you the kindest letter that ever you writ me ; and that you may know I take it so, I return you the free and friendly advice, never to judge any man before you hear him, nor any business by one side of it. Were you here to see the other, I am confident your thoughts and mine would be the same. You have both too much knowledge of me, and too much charity to think, that either such little contemptible scraps of honor or riches sought in that part of the world with so much re- proach, or any human complacency in the world, will be admitted to decide so grave a question, or that I would sell (to speak no higher) the very sensual pleasure of my re- tirement for a rattle, far less deliberately do anything that I judge offends God. For the offence of good people in cases indifferent in themselves, but not accounted so by them, whatsoever you do or do not, you shall oflTend some good people on the one side or other ; and for those with you, the great fallacy in this business is, that they have misreckoned themselves in taking my silence and their zeals to have been consent and participation ; which, how great a mistake it is, few know better or so well as yourself. And the truth is, I did see approaching an inevitable neces- sity to strain with them in divers practices, in what station soever remaining in Britain ; and to have escaped further off (which hath been in my thoughts) would have been the greatest scandal of all. And what will you say if there be in this thing somewhat of that you mention, and would allow of recon- ciling the devout on different sides, and of enlarging those good souls you meet with from their little fetters, though possibly with little success ? Yet the design is commenda- ble, pardonable at least. However, one com- fort I have, that in what is pressed on me there is the least of my own choice, yea on the contrary the strongest aversion that ever I had to anything in all my life : the difficul- ty in short lies in a necessity of either own- ing a scruple which I have not, or the rudest disobedience to authority that may be. The truth is, I am yet importuning and struggling for a liberation, and look upward for it : but whatsoever be the issue, I look beyond it, and this weary, weary, wretched life through which the hand I have resigned to I trust will lead me in the path of his own choosing ; and so I may please him I am satisfied. I hope if ever we meet you shall find me in the love of solitude and a devout life, " Your unaltered Brother and Friend, "R. L. When I set pen to paper, I intended not to exceed half a dozen lines, but slid on insensi- bly thus far : but though I should fill the pa- per on all sides, still the right view of this business would be necessarily suspended till meeting. Meanwhile hope well of me, and pray for me. This Avord I will add, that as there has been nothing of my choice in the thing, so I undergo it, if it must be, as a mortification, and that greater than a cell and hair-cloth ; and whether any will be- lieve this or no I am not careful." It is surely no discredit to his sagacity, that he once conceived a hope to which he alludes in his letter, of bringing the episco- palians and presbyterians to coalesce on the basis of reciprocal concession. That hope will not be accounted the less rational for being feeble: but in proportion to its feeble- ness, if it were not altogether visionary, does the value rise of the sacrifices he made to realize it; for the dignity of its object none will dispute. Had it been possible for human virtue to have prevented the bloody discord, which shortly overcast the spiritual firma- ment, and rent the Scottish church like an earthquake, Leighton could not have failed. To a temper, in which Burnet never but once saw a ruffle, during a close familiarity of twenty-two years' standing, and under every variety of provocation, and to an ad- dress in dealing with perverse and factious spirits, which his adversaries admit while disparaging it with unhandsome epithets, he joined such extreme moderation of sentiment on the points at issue between the two church- es, as peculiarly fitted him to stand in the gap, the angel of reconciliation and concord. It is true, indeed, that success has rarely fol- lowed attempts to restore compactness to a religious body, after once it has been THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 17 riolently divided. For the most part the cure of religious dissensions is unhopeful, in proportion as the ground of them is trivial : because the difficulty of allaying the pas- sions of men corresponds with the degree in which they are wedded to creatures of the imagination. As the contest goes on, the objects of contention gain importance in the eyes of the combatants ; and minute differ- ences expand into gulfs which separate salva- tion from perdition, 4he rather perhaps for the conscience being honest where the mind is not adequately enlightened. No violent measures, no compendious process, can bring about a cordial union of bodies of men, disu- nited in matters of conscience. Yet, let time be allowed for factions to disband and irritations to abate ; let proper measures be pursued for preventing untoward collisions, and for bringing those who are jealous of each other into contact at points, in which a mutual attraction will be developed : and it may happen that, uniting in affection one to another, they will at length agree together in mind and opinion ; or, at least their spec- ulative differences will cease to create bane- ful and scandalous schisms. Leighton doubtless hoped that, by a mild and temperate exercise of his episcopal ju- risdiction, he should propitiate most of the covenanters, whose hostility to moderate episcopacy he might suppose to be relenting from the avowed desire for it of the synod of Aberdeen, and from the apparent confor- mity of two thirds of the ministers. The re- establishment of the ancient monarchy, an event so grateful to patriots of both persua- sions, he considered a favorable crisis for " causing contentions to cease," and for drowning private grudges and public feuds in an ocean of Christian love and imiversal prosperity. He mi^ht hope, moreover, that by his personal inffuence with the king, to whom his brother's situation at court would facilitate his access, he should be able to keep in check the violent partisans of prela- cy, and to curb that headlong precipitance of innovation, of which some portentous symptoms had already appeared in the royal councils. In the latter objects he did not entirely fail : for he effectually shielded the nonconformists in his own diocess from mol- estation ; and more than once, as we shall see hereafter, he converted the king to mod- erate measures by his faithful and fearless representations. His attempts to soften the prejudices of his own countrymen, and to effect a conjunction of the two churches did, it is true, miscarry. But it will appear in the sequel of this history, that the failure does not lie with the bishop, who exhibited throughout that arduous transaction an illus- trious specimen of Christian diplomacy, and whose character came forth from it, as pure gold seven times tried in the furnace. There is one particular of Leighton's con- du'^t in this perplexing business, which is 3 I open to just exception. I allude to his re- I ceiving the orders, first of deacon, and then ! of priest, from the English bishops, previ- 1 ously to his consecration. Sheldon, bishop I of London, insisted on Sharp and Leighton ; being re-ordained, on the plea that their I presbyterian ordination was void from the I beginning, it having been conferred by a ! church actually in a state of schism, which I vitiated all its acts of administration. Leigh- ton denied the soundness of this objection to j the validity of his ministry. Yet being lit- I tie scrupulous, too little indeed, about the j circumstantials of ecclesiastical polity, he j yielded to Sheldon's demand with a readi- ness, which the repugnance evinced to it ! by Sharp made the more observable. The view he took of the ceremony imposed upon : them was, " the re-ordaining a priest or- ' dained in another church imported iio more, ! but that they received him into orders ac- cording to their own rules ; and did not infer ■ the annulling the orders he had formerly re- j ceived." Had the English bishops concur- i red in this explanation, Leighton would have ] stood on solid ground in submitting to a new j ordination. But instead of concurring in it, j their avowed meaning was to bestow that I upon him, of which in their judgment he I was hitherto destitute — a regular consecra- I tion to the ministry of the gospel ; and in \ this meaning Leighton did to outward ap- pearance acquiesce. His private construc- ' tion of the act, to which he submitted, ' could not change his public aspect and char- acter. It seemed levelled at the foimdations of presbytery, by impeaching the legitimacy ; of all presbyterian ministers, who had re- ■ ceived holy orders after episcopacy was le- ' gaily resettled in Scotland by King James ; and of course it exasperated the clergy, who were in that predicament, and also the laity,, who thought the honor and interest of their church were compromised by Leighton's con- ' cession. I It was the duty of a faithful historian to avow, that Leighton did not not, in this in- I stance, sufficiently consider the ill impression ' his compliance would produce on mankind, and how much it might Aveaken his influ- ence, by bringing him nearer in public esti- mation, than had been supposed possible, to the level of mere worldly calculators. Yet assuredly the real spring of his conduct in this affair was a high-toned spirituality, which made him overlook the importance attached by vulgar opinion to the outside frame and fashion of religion. For on any point which seemed to touch the substance of Christian piety, he was exquisitely sensi- ble. Hence his disgust at the feasting and jollity, with which the consecration of the new bishops was celebrated. It grieved this excellent man, to see anything of sensual levity mixed up with the solemn business to which they were set apart ; and the absence of that seriousness and spirit of prayer, which be- 18 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. came the commencement of such an under- taking as the new modelling of a church, op- pressed his mind with gloomy presages. These were increased, when he found Arch- bishop Sharp unprepared with any plan for healing the wounds of the church, for pur- ging out its corruptions, for rectifying its disorders, and for kindling in it a livelier flame of true piety. On these great objects Leighton was anxious to begin without de- lay ; and already he had conceived a pro- cess for the union of parties in Scotland, and for reforming the public services of religion, and reducing them to a method more orderly and better adapted to general edification. But in these Christian projects he found no auxiliaries. With Sharp, the establishment of an hierarchy, with himself at the head, appears to have been the ultimate object ; and he was neither able to understand the spirit, nor disposed to forward the schemes of Leighton, of whose influence with Lau- derdale he had begun to conceive a jealousy, and to whose pious disinterestedness the worldliness of his colleagues stood in dis- graceful contrast. Leighton's sad forebodings were not a little confirmed by a close obser- vation of Sharp's real character, and by the clearer development, that was daily taking place, of the principles which actuated the episcopalian leaders. In the supercilious recklessness of the infant hierarchy he des- cried the sure omen of its downfall ; and he remarked to Burnet that, " in the whole progress of that affair, there appeared such cross characters of an angry Providence, that how fully soever he was satisfied in his own mind as to episcopacy itself, yet it seemed that God was against them, and that they were not like to be the men that should build up his church , so that the struggling about it seemed to him like a fighting against God." On the 12th of December, 1661, four of the persons fixed upon to commence the episco- pal dynasty of Scotland received consecra- tion in London. Leighton being appointed, at his special request, to the inconsiderable see of Dunblane, in Perthshire. Early in the following year, the new bishops pro- ceeded in one coach to Edinburgh. Between Leighton and his colleagues, however, there was such a want of sympathy, as made it very irksome to him to journey in their com- pany ; and having learned that it was their intention to make a grand entry into Edin- burgh, he quitteth them at Morpeth, and ar- rived some days before the rest of the party. Burnet describes himself to have been a downcast spectator of the pomp and parade with which the other three bishops were es- corted into the Scottish metropolis ; and the spirit of wise and pious men was abashed, when they contrasted this ostentatious pa- geantry with the example of that true Bishop of souls, who made his last solemn entrance into Jerusalem, riding upon an ass and weep- ing, as if unable to endure the splendor of a triumph which prophecy forbade him to de- cline, unless it were shaded with a cloud of humility and sadness. The first measures taken by Sharp and his coadjutors, if the pliable agents of his cu- pidity deserve to be so named, bore fatal marks of that perverse genius by which they were conceived. Instead of endeavoring to break in the restiff spirit of presbyterianism by gentle usage and gradual loading, with a desperate hand he at once buckled on the saddle, and laid on the whole weight of the episcopal colossus. In pursuance of this pol- icy it was enacted, even before the bishops left London, that presbyteries and judicato- ries should be abolished. This imprudent decree was followed up by an act, asserting the king's ecclesiastical supremacy, rein- stating the bishops in their parliamentary privileges and civil dignities, and conferring on them an exclusive presidency in church I meetings, the power of ordination and of j censure, with whatever else appertains to the administration and jurisdiction of the j church. It was added, indeed, that in the j exercise of their functions they were to ad- I vise with certain loyal and prudent clergy- men. Yet, as their assessors were to be se- lected by themselves, and were not empow- I ered collectively to enforce an opinion con- j trary to their diocesan's, it is clear that any I check they could maintain on the despotism of the bench would be of small account. All real authority was lodged with the bish- op ; and his clerical advisers were mere ci- I phers, to whom was allotted the unenviable I privilege of sharing with their principal the I odium of arbitrary proceedings, which they j were not competent either to prevent or modify. Such was the present scheme of episco- pacy, widely different from that of the year 1612, when the bishops affected nothing more than to be settled presidents, to have a negative voice in all questions relating to ec- clesiastical jurisdiction, and some superior authority in ordination. This hasty attempt to force on a people, to whom presbytery was dear "as a wife of youth," the highest kind of prelacy, was certainly to pour new wine into old bottles. It could not but pro- duce a disastrous explosion. But nothing could stay the precipitance of that misguided man, who seems to have expected, in the pride of his new-blown grandeur, that diffi- culties would vanish at his touch. He did not, it is allowed, ever carry his episcopal powers to the full extent permitted by this act of parliament. Still the passing of such an act furnished those who refused the new model with a plausible justification ; and ex- hibited the capital solecism in policy, of ma- king a legislative invasion of the popular rights and feelings more considerable in the terms of the enactment than it was really meant to be in the execution. THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 1^: In his fixed aversion to worldly honors, Leighton besought his friends not to give him the appellation of Lord, and was uneasy at ever being addressed by that title. By this singularity he gave umbrage to his col- leagues, and laid himself open to the charge of an affectation, proceeding from narrow- minded squeamishness, if not from a refine- ment of vanity : or, indeed, this solicitude to divest his office of its usual dignities might be ill-naturedly ascribed to his not being thoroughly satisfied with the function itself, and seekmg to compound wiih his conscience by a sacrifice of external distinction. Shortly after their arrival in Edinburgh, the bishops were formally invited to take their seats in parliament ; not that any invi- tation was requisite to authorize their at- tendance, but it was deemed a proper token of respect. By all, except the Bishop of Dunblane, the call was obeyed. He re- solved from the beginning never to mix in parliament, unless some matter aff"ecting the interests of religion were in agitation ; and to this resolution he steadily adhered. His first appearance in parliament Avas on the question respecting the oath of suprem- acy. This oath was so worded as to carry on the face of it no demand, beyond what the presbyterians were willing to admit, namely, that the king should be recognised for the civil head of the church as well as of the state. Yet there was something in the phraseology so equivocal as to warrant a suspicion, that it was artfully contrived for a handle by which the sovereign might in- terfere, at pleasure, and with absolute au- thority, in the internal regulation of the church. In England such explanations were given, when the oath was tendered, as brought it within the compass of a presby- terian conscience. But when it was required by the Earl of Cassilis, and by other stout covenanters in the parliament of Scotland, that the necessary qualification for reconciling its provisions to their scruples should be in- serted into the body of the act, or, at least, be subjoined to their subscriptions, the High Commissioner would not listen to the de- mand. Leighton now stepped forward, the fearless champion, the eloquent advocate of moderation and charity. He maintained that trammeling men's consciences with so many rigorous oaths could only produce laxity of moral principle, or unchristian bigotry and party feeling. With respect to the oath itself, he would not dissemble his opinion that it was susceptible of a bad sense ; and, therefore, the tenderness of conscience, which refused to take it without guarding against an evil construction, ought not to be derided. The English papists had obtained this indulgence ; and it was strange indeed if protestants were to be more hardly dealt by. When, in reply to this spirited remon- strance, it was contended by Sharp, that the complaining party, in the days of its ascen- dency, had been little tender of the con- sciences of those who revolted at the Sol- emn League and Covenant, Leighton ex- claimed at the unworthiness of retaliating by measures which had been so justly repro- bated ; and he emphatically pointed out the nobler course of heaping coals upon the heads of adversaries, by the contrast of epis- copal mildness with presbyterian severity. For them to practise, for the base purpose of quitting scores, the same rigor against which they had vehemently protested when them- selves were the victims of it, would be a foul blot on their Christian character, and would justify the sarcasm, that the icorld goes mad by turns. However solid these arguments were, they made no impression on the Earl of Middleton and his creatures, whose pro- ject it was to have the oath of that ambig- uous cast, which should deter the stiffer covenanters from taking it, who would there- by become liable to the penalties of disloy- alty. One can not without pain admit an opinion that bears so hard upon the probity and humanity of the royal party. Yet this is not a solitary instance of an oath being artfully shaped to entrap persons, whom state policy has marked for its victims. Leighton used to observe, with some reference no doubt to this transaction, that a consolidation of the episcopal and presbyterian platforms, had it been judiciously and sincerely at- tempted at the outset, might have been ac- complished ; but there were some evil spirits at work, whose device it was plainly again to scatter us : and the terms of comprehen- sion were made so strait, in order to keep men out." It was a transaction, however, that gave an illustrious prominence to his own extraordinary virtues, to his enlightened charity, his inexorable honesty, and his gen- erous courage. Leighton thought with St. Augustin, that a bishopric is not intended for pastime and amusement: Episcopatus non est artijiciuin transigendce vitcE^ He therefore resided con- stantly on his see, and his holy ministrations watered the places about him v/ith a blessing. Not content to repose in lazy state, he regard- ed himself as a shepherd of souls, and went about from parish to parish catechising and preaching. But his primary aim was to heal the fountains ; for he justly considered that if ministers were to become sound in doctrine, exemplary in personal conduct, and sedulous in pastoral duties, the fruits of their spiritual- ity and zeal would quickly appear in the amended state of their parishes. It would be difficult to do justice to the sense he en- tertained of the immense responsibility of Christian ministers. For himself, as his prac- tice bears witness, he always desired the smallest cure ; partly from native humility, and partly from an apprehension, so lively as to be almost terrible, of the account which must be given in by spiritual overseers at the great tribtmal. Often would he commiserate 20 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. those of the London clergy the extent of whose cures made it impracticable to pay each individual of their flock the atiention his soul required. " Theirs," he observed, ♦'is rightly called cura animarum a con- cern, he seems to have meant, full of anxiety and peril. " Were I again," he said in his last retirement, to be a parish minister, I must follow sinners to their houses, and even to their alehouses." As one of the faults im- [ puted to the episcopal clergy was unskilful- | ness in preaching, he was solicitous to re- \ move from his own diocess all color for this allegation. This he knew could never be effected until the pulpiis were filled by holy ; men. " It is vain," he would say, " for any one to speak of divine things, without some- ' thing of divine affections. An ungodly cler- ' gyman must feel uneasy when preaching ! godliness, and will hardly preach it persua- | sively. He has not been able to prevail on ; himself to be holy, and no marvel if he fail of prevailing on others. In truth, he is in great danger of being hardened against re- ligion by the frequent inculcation of it, if it fail of melting him." The following extract from a letter, in ^ which he offers a living to one of his clergy, i affords a beautiful specimen of Christian po- ' liteness, at the same time that it lets us into the bishop's sense of the temper and affec- tion with which a charge of souls should be undertaken : — " Sir : There is one place indeed in my precinct now vacant, and yet undisposed of, by ihe voluntary removal of the young man who was in it to a better benefice ; and this is likewise in my hand, but it is of so wretch- edly mean provision, that I am ashamed to name it, little I think above five hundred marks [less than 30/. sterling] by year. If the many instances of that kind you have read have made you in love with voluntary poverty, there you may have it : but where- soever you are, or shall be, for the little rest of your time, I hope you are, and still will be, daily advancing in that blest poverty of spirit that is the only true height and great- ness of spirit in all the world, entitling to a crown, < for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.' Oh, what are the scraps that the great ones of this world are scrambling for compared with that pretension ! I pray you, as you find an opportunity, though possibly little or no inclination to it, yet bestow one Hue or two upon " Your poor friend and servant, " R. L." The following letter to the heritors* of the parish of Stratton, places in a clear light the upright yet sagacious policy by which Leigh- ton managed to fill the vacant benefices with pious men, and to conciliate the goodwill of the parishioners to their new pastors. • The heritors of a parish are the owners of the real property within it. "Worthy Gentlemen and Friends: Be- ing informed that it is my duty to present a person, fit for the charge of the ministry now vacant with you, I have thought of one whose integrity and piety I am so fully persuaded of, that I dare confidently recommend him to you, as one who, if the hand of God do bind that work upon him among you, is likely, through the blessing of the same hand, to be very serviceable to the building up of your souls heavenward ; but is as far from suffer- ing himself to be obtruded, as I am from ob- truding any upon you ; so that unless you in- vite him to preach, and after hearing him^ declare your consent and desire toward his embracing of the call, you may be secure from the trouble of hearing any further con- cerning him, either from himself or me ; and if you please to let me know your mind, your reasonable satisfaction shall be to my utmost power endeavored by Your affectionate friend **And humble servant, *'R. Leighton." The charges of this venerable prelate to the clergy of the diocesan s^nod of Dunblane are valuable and interesting records, as well on account of the sterling good sense and piety with which they abound, as of the light they shed on his professional character and deportment. From the instructions, which he found it necessary to issue in the year of his inauguration, it may be inferred that the district over which he presided had not made much proficiency in godliness under presby- terian pedagogy. He prescribed such rules of worship and discipline as were indicated by the disorders of the existing system, and were adapted to correct the flagrant im- moralities of the time and place. Officiating ministers were directed to read portions of the Old and New Testaments, not after the irreverent maimer hitherto in vogue, of ma- king it a by work while the congregation was assembling, but as an integral and important part of the service. It was the bishop's wish, that the Lord's prayer, the Apostles' creed, and the doxology, should be restored to more frequent use ; that a weekly day should be appointed for catechising ; and that an easy compendium of Christian doctrine should be agreed upon by his clergy, to be made the basis of catechetical instructions to the young and the ignorant. Probably the short catechism which is among his printed works, was composed for this purpose. The sermons of that period generally ran in a high strain of controversy. Against this the bishop set his face ; and he labored to bring into tne place of subtle and passionate dis- putations, a modest and sober style of preach- ing, that should be level to the capacities and calculated to mend the morals of the vulgar. On the ignorance and viciousness of the people in general he touches sorrow- fully ; and he warns his clergy against slack- THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. ness and timidity in reproving the prevalent sins of their respective parishes. Large por- tions of holy scripture were preferred by him as subjects for sermons, to single texts ; for he thought they offered more scope for pithy practical remark, and were better calculated to lay hold on the attention of the auditory, j Though friendly to a grave and masculine | eloquence of which he was himself no com- j mon master, yet his chief desire was, that discourses from the pulpit should be simple j and perspicuous. After hearing a plain and homely sermon he expressed the highest \ satisfaction; "For the good man," said he, | in reference to the preacher, " seems in ear- 1 nest to catch souls." The measure of speech, | he remarked, and it is a remark well worthy | of being preserved, ought to be the character : of the audience, which is made up for the | most part of illiterate persons. Any deliberate opinion of this great man must deserve respect, even when it may not command acquiescence. It would, therefore, be wrong to omit mentioning, that he dis- liked the practice of reading sermons, a prac- tice scarcely known across the seas ; being of opinion that it detracted much from the j weight and authority of preaching. ''I know i [he saidj that weakness of the memory is pleaded in excuse for this custom; but bet- ter minds would make better memories. Such an excuse is unworthy of a man, and ! much more of a father, who may want vent indeed in addressing his children, but ought never to vcant matter. Like Elihu, he should ! be refreshed by speaking." i Although disposed to lenity, he was not ' regardless of discipline. Gross offences com- ' mitted in his diocess were to be branded with church censures ; and the restoration of of- : fenders to the commmiion of the church was to be delayed till indubious symptoms of re- ' Dentance had shown themselves. ; It was among his pious plans to bring ibout a more frequent celebration of the lord's supper, which, in those days, was not n every place so much as an annual cere- ' nony ; and he wished the people to be care- fully instructed in the spiritual import of this holy rite, and to be frequently exhorted to maintain a constant fitness for' it by uniform biamelessness of conversation. He also made it incumbent on his clergy to promote the practice of family worship, and to exercise a watchful superintendence over their flocks, | bearmg the spiritual burdens of every mem- her, and dealing out to each, as his case I might require, instruction, or counsel, or re- 1 proof, or consolation. j It has already been stated how careful he , was to put his clergy in remembrance that no- substantial good could be expected from | their ministrations, unless they were them- selves remarkable for sanctity of heart and i life ; men of prayer, of study, and medita- ' tion ; of " great contempt of this present ' world, and inflamed affections toward heav- ! en ;" whose pure and peaceable demeanor, full of mercy and good fruits, should stamp them for the sons of God and servants of the meek and lowly Jesus. Moreover he con- sidered a singular modesty and gravity, even in externals, such as their apparel and the adjustment of their hair, to be highly be- coming in ministers, whose profession it was to give themselves wholly to the care of im- mortal souls. Having these things much at heart, he gave in a paper at the synod of 1667, in which, after a most conciliatory introduction, and blaming himself for having, through averseness to lord it over Christ's heritage, been more backward to advise them than perhaps his situation demanded, he proceeds to urge the importance of adding life and efficacy to those " privy trials," in which the presbyters used to examine each other for mutual correction and edification. This pro- cess, he is satified, might be made exceed- ingly salutary to those who were declining in zeal and diligence, were entangled in doc- trinal errors, or were in any way swerving from the path of ministerial duty ; provided they were so conducted as to constrain a man to serious reflection upon himself ; and with a view to their being rendered thus useful, he lays down some admirable rules, which are included in the body of his works. Let it here be noticed how remote this holy man is from an imperious and domineer- ing exercise of his authority. Instead of ex- acting submission from his clergy by per- emptoriness and menaces, he industriously waives the superior character of a bishop, and bespeaks their obedience by urbanity and gentleness. It is asserted by Wodrow and others, that the clergy of Dunblane were no- toriously ignorant and disorderly. I have met with nothing to corroborate this heavy charge ; and from their diocesan's pastoral letters and addresses it is rather to be infer- red that their defects have been overstated, or else were greatly corrected during his ad- ministration. He seems to have judged it expedient to raise them as nearly to a level with himself, as the indispensable dignity of episcopal government would allow ; and whatever alterations he thought necessary were proposed in the shape of friendly sug- gestion, and not of overbearing dictation. The only priority he sought was in labors ; the only ascendency he coveted was in self- denial and holiness ; and in these respects he had few competitors for pre-eminence. Proceeding steadily upon these principles, and exerting all his influence to impart to others the same fervency of spirit, he drew upon hinaself the eyes of all Scotland, which gazed with amazement at his bright and singular virtues, as at a star of unrivalled brilliance newly added to the sky. Even the Presbyterians were softened by his Christian urbanity and condescension, and were con- strained to admit that on him had descended 22 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. a double portion of the apostolic spirit. Had his colleagues in office been kin to him in temper, it is not extravagant to believe that the attempt to restore episcopacy would have had a more prosperous issue. As there is no record of Leighton having taken a prominent part in the settlement of the church, during the earlier part of his episcopacy, we may assume that he confined himself to private advice and expostulation ; hoping that, when the happy results of his own pacific proceedings should be visible, the other bishops would be induced to follow in his track. But it soon became apparent, that the plans in progress for extirpating the presbyterian discipline were diametrically opposite to the dictates of wisdom and mer- cy. I find him expressing himself, in allu- sion no doubt to the leading men of this pe- riod, with a poignant recollection of the self- ish craft by which they were characterized. Seeing them destitute of Christian simplicity and singleness of purpose, he lost all heart about the issue of their measures ; and desig- nated them, in spiritual language, empty vines bringing forth fruit unto themselves. " I have met with many cunning plotters," he would say, " but with few truly honest and skilful undertakers. Many have I seen who were wise and great as to this world, but of such as are willing to be weak that others may be strong, and whose only aim it is to promote the prosperity of Zion, have I not found one in ten thousand." Having made these afflicting discoveries, and finding all his efforts to put things in a better train quite ineffectual, Leighton thought he should be justified in laying doAvn the charge, which he had taken up, not as a dignity, but as a cross and burden. He resolved, however, to go up to London in the first instance, and to lay before the royal eye, which had hitherto been deluded with fallacious representations, a faithful picture of the distempered and convulsed state of Scotland. Having obtained an interview with Charles, he declared that the severities practised upon objectors to the new establish- ment were such as his conscience could not justify, even for the sake of planting Chris- tianity in a heathen land ; and much less could he agree to them for an end so com- paratively insignificant, as that of substitu- ting one form of ecclesiastical government for another. He therefore besought permis- sion to resign his bishopric, lest by retaining it he should seem to be a party to violences, at which his principles and feelings revolted. His majesty professed disapprobation of the manner in which the affairs of the church were administered by Sharp, and seemed touched by the pathetic arguments of the vir- tuous advocate of toleration. He pledged himself to stop that application of the secu- lar sword, against which Leighton protested ; and he actually annulled the ecclesiastical commission, which pretended to goad dis- senters into conformity by fines and jails and corporal punishments. But he would not hear of Leighton's vacating his see ; and the bishop ccnseT?ted at length to retain it, as he could not be \iinaware that, by persisting in his purpose of retirement, ne would throw away every chance of holding the king to those engagements, into which he had just been impelled for the prosperity of the church. Leighton had so fully made up his mind to withdraw at this time from his station, that he had bidden a solemn farcAvell to his clergy before his departure for London. After wind- ing up the regular business of the synod in October, 1665, he informed them that there was a matter which, though of little con- cern to them and the church, he still thought it his duty to notify to them. He then announced his attention of retiring ; and the reasons he assigned for it were, the sense he entertained of his own unworthi- ness to sustain so high an office, and his weariness of those contentions, which had clothed the household of God in mourning, and seemed to be rather increasing than abating. "For myself, brethren, t have to thank you for the undeserved respect and kindness which I have all along experienced at your hands. Let me entreat your good construction of the poor endeavors I have used to serve you, and to assist you in pro- moting the work of the ministry and th great designs of the gospel. If in anything, whether by word or deed, I have given you offence, or unnecessarily pained a single in- dividual among you, I do earnestly and hum- bly crave forgiveness. My last advice to you is, that you continue in the study of peace and holiness, and grow and abound in love to your great Lord and Master, and to ihe souls for which he died. Finally, breth- ren, farewell ; be perfect, be of good com- fort, be of one mind, live in peace, and the God of peace and love shall be with you. Amen." About two years afterward, the growing calamities of the church called for prompt and vigorous remedies. It was decreed by the council, that all incumbents should ob- tain presentation from the patrons and epis- copal institution, or forthwith resign their benefices. This intemperate act, of which the credit is given to Bishop Fairfowl, occa- sioned all at once a great number of vacan- cies, which fit and able men were not at hand to supply. Had the most considerable of the nonconformist ministers been gradu- ally and quietly superseded, an explosion of popular wrath might have been avoided. But when, in addition to the grievance of be- ing deprived of their own ministers, the con- gregations were required to receive, in the room of these revered pastors, men whose morals were not always clear of reproach, and who were mostly ill-provided with learning and piety for a ministerial charge, THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. their disgust at prelatical innovations settled into a ferocious antipathy to the new consti- tution of the church. It was the misfortune of these times, moreover, that owing to the king's dislike of business, and his immoral levity, the gov- ernment took its tone from the views or whims of the principal minister of the reign- ing favorite for the time being ; and public measures were in perpetual mutation. There was no steady hand, endued with competent force and authority to prevent the most bane- ful fluctuations of the body politic. Not that the unsteadiness of the helm should be at- tributed to the monarch's capriciousncss or supineness alone. It proceeded, in part, from the difficulty he found in carrying on to- gether his two favorite objects, of pulling down presbyterianism, and building up po- pery : it being hard to inflict a blow upon the former without wounding the latter ; or to enact laws favorable to the catholic dis- senter, the benefit of which should not ex- tend to the presbyterian. Nothing, however, could be more adverse to the settlement of Scotch aff'airs, than such a vacillating ad- ministration. At times, the bishops were armed with almost unlimited powers for the subversion of presbytery : but before suffi- cient space had been allowed for the success of a resolute despotism, if despotic measures could have succeeded, their powers were abridged ; a clog was put on their career of intolerance ; and the other party, from being discouraged and enfeebled, was roused to fresh hope and resistance. Then, a sudden recourse to arbitrary measures would cut short the experiment of conciliation ; or it would be tried on too limited and partial a scale to answer any other purpose, than that of making the subsequent severities, or those which were all the while going forward in other districts, to be the more conspicuous and galling. Resuming the thread of our narration, we are to relate the proceedings of the Bishop of Dunblane, in the year 1607, in conjunction with Lord Tweedale, who possessed, ac- cording to Burnet's estimate, true benevo- lence, with much political talent and infor- mation, but was over-cautious and timid, and loo prone to side with any government. This nobleman, who fortunately had the chief confidence of Lauderdale, viewed with an aching heart the disorders of his country, and vigorously applied himself to heal them before they should be grown incurable. He saw at once that Leighton was the proper man to be at the head of the ecclesiastical administration and indeed it was high time * The following extract from the history of Scot- land by Sir George Mackenzie, who was a leading character in these times, and lord advocate, will be appropriate in this part of our narrative : — " The debates and transactions which fell in at this time discovered very much to our statesmen, how far each of the present clergy stood affected to for some capable man to be fixed in that sta- tion, since, as matters now went on, the busi- ness of the church constituted more than two thirds of the whole business of the state. Accordingly he spared no pains to engage Leighton's co-operation ; and in order to that co-operation being made more eff"ec- tual, he let slip no opportunity of impres- sing the king with an opinion of his superla- tive merits, and of his competence to the chief direction of ecclesiastical afl'airs. Had he succeeded in this project, it was his hope to winnow the church, by degrees, of those vain and worthless characters with which it was infested ; and to bring in a set of men who would adorn their profession, and rec- ommend the episcopal frame by undeniable piety and talent. How far Leighton fell in with this excellent design, as it concerned his OAvn advancement, is not related ; but he consented to undertake another fatiguing journey to London, and again to implore the redress of those grievances, under which the church was wasting away. On this second visit, he had two audiences of Charles, in which he fulfilled the duty of a faithful am- bassador. He exposed without disguise the distempered state of the realm, and showed how those diseases, which might have yield- ed to gentle and seasonable remedies, had been exasperated by harsh and empirical treatment. His first object was to awaken the king to the necessity of adopting healing measures without delay, as the only means the supremacy of the civil magistrates in church af- fairs, and in what they approved or disapproved the late indulgence ; for the advice of many churchmen, not properly interested, was asked at this time, ra- ther to know their inclination, than for information : aud it was easily found, that the Bishop of Dimblane was the most proper and fit person to serve the state in the church, according to the present platform of government now resolved upon : for he was in much esteem for his piety and moderation, among the peo- ple, as to which the presbyterians themselves could neither reproach nor equal him ; albeit they hated him most of all his fraternity, in respect he drew many into a kindness for episcopacy, by his exem- plary life, rather than debates. His great principle was, that devotion was the great affair about which churchmen should employ themselves ; and that the gaining of souls, and not the external government, was their proper task : nor did he festeem it fit, and scarce lawful to churchmen, to sit in councils and judicatories, these being diversions from the main. And albeit his judgment did lead him to believe the church of England the best model of all others, both for doctrine and discipline, yet did he easily conform with the practice of the Christians among whom he lived, and therefore livedpeaceably under presbytery, till it was abolished : and when he undertook to be bishop himself, he opposed all violent courses, where- by men were forced to comply with the present wor- ship, beyond their persuasions ; and he granted a lat- itude and indulgence to those of his own diocess, be- fore the king had allowed any by his letter Tliis made the world believe, that "he was the author to his majesty of that public indulgence ; and the states- men who were unwilling to be authors of an innova- tion, which some there thought might prove danger- ous, were well satisfied to have it so believed : but, however, these principles rendered him a fit instru- ment in their present undertakings." — Page 161. 24 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. of averting a fatal crisis. Then, without hazarding a premature exposure of the ex- pedients A\?hich were dictated by the present exigency, he humbly advised that an attempt should be made, by some act of comprehen- sion, t'.) draw the more temperate of the presbyterian party within the pale of the establishment ; and he advertised his majes- ty of the danger he would run of losing epis- copacy altogether, by refusing to surrender any of its appendages. The ship would sail less gallantly, it was true, with her topmasts cut away ; but that was her only chance of outriding the tempest. The king professed to fall in Avith the moderate measures recommended by Lord Tweedale and Leighton. But the passions of the covenanters had been allowed to effer- vesce so long, and they were so incensed by the king's breach of faith, and by the oppres- siveness of the High Commission, that it was hardly to be expected that any ministe- rial filters, how artfully soever compounded, would avail to charm back their affections. Nor were the presbyterian chieftains remiss or unskilful in fomenting the popular discon- tent. A breath from them would have ex- tinguished the smoking firebrand ; but that breath was applied to fan it into a flame. Young and fiery preachers ranged up and dovm the country, sounding the tocsin of the covenant, and warning the people against the deadly plague of the prelatic leprosy. The cause of presbyterianism against episco- pacy was the battle of Jehovah with Baal. It was a holy war for the rescue of the ark of the covenant from the hands of uncircum- cised Philistines : and it was set forth under such aspects, as should respectively attract both the bad and the good ; — miscreants, who loved tumult, and throve by the disor- ders of the commonwealth, along with men of a tender conscience or a resolute piety. Accordingly, these fanatical incendiaries had great success. The rabble were lashed into madness by having their wrongs and their duties perpetually rung in their ears ; and being countenanced, it is to be feared, by men above the rabble in birth and education, but not in moderation and virtue, they scru- pled at nothing that might evince their ha- tred to the episcopal incumbents, and compel them to withdraw. To this end, affronts and indignities were heaped upon their heads : they could not pass to and from church, in the discharge of their clerical duties, without encountering volleys of reproaches and cur- ses, or even missiles more dangerous to their persons. Their houses were no longer a sanctuary ; their property was plundered, and their lives v/ere attempted. Worn out by this series of persecutions, and despairing of a change ^or the better, many of these unhap- py curates abandoned their parishes, a few with some, but most without any, pecuniary compensation. While the flimsy fabric of episcopacy was rocking in this tempest, the spirit of infatua- tion had fallen on all the bishops except Leighton : and his oracular voice, though lift- ed up boldly, was drowned in the clamor for pushing forward the new system without pause or relaxation. He persisted, however, in those pacific measures, which the king had engaged to sanction. He tried to per- suade tne leading statesmen to second them with their authority ; and he suggested the expediency of repealing those absurd laws, which rated the episcopal authority far higher than any of the bishops dared to car- ry into practice. Taking notice of the ex- traordinary concessions made by the African Church to the Donatists, who were to the full as extravagant as the people of his own day, he was an advocate for going a great way toward meeting their demands, and for so lengthening the cords and stretching out the curtains, of the episcopal frame, as to take in all the covenanters who were not im- placable recusants. Although the conces- sions, to which he was prepared to proceed, went near to vacate the episcopal office, yet he thought them justified by the improbabil- ity of their permanence ; for he counted that v/hen the present race of untameable zealots was laid in the grave, and an era of peace had allowed scope for a revival of good sense and charity, there would be a read- iness on the part of the people to reinvest the bishop with such prerogatives as he had been unreasonably compelled to sacrifice at the shrine of religious concord. The articles proposed by Leighton for the basis of an accommodation, are reported by Burnet in nearly the following words : — 1. That the church should be governed by the bishops and their clergy, mixing together in the church judicatories, in which the bishop should act only as a president, and be determined by the majority of his presbyters, both in matters of jurisdiction and ordinatiQn. 2. That the presbyters should be allowed, when they first sat down in their judicato- ries, to declare that their sitting under a bishop was submitted to by them for peace sake ; with a reservation of their opinion with relation to any such presidency ; and that no negative vote should be claimed by the bishop. 3. That bishops should go to the churches, in which such as were candidates for ordina- tion were to serve, and hear and discuss any exceptions that were made to them, and or- dain them with the concurrence of the pres- bytery. 4. That such as were to be ordained should have leave to declare their opinion, if they held that the bishop was only the head of the presbyters. 5. That provincial synods should sit in course every third year, or oftener if the kmg summoned them ; in which complaints of the bishops should be received, and they should be censured according to their deserts. THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 25 It was not to be expected that such a scheme would go down smoothly with the patrons of the new system. There was an outcry against it as a measure subversive of episcopacy, which it certainly despoiled of some capital dignities and powers. Against this Leighton urged, that it was better to de- press episcopacy below the scriptural model, than to suffer the church to continue a prey to those factions, which had already carried a swQrd into its bowels. He further essayed to sooth the indignant prelatists, by show- ing how probable it was that the locks, of which episcopacy was unhandsomely shorn, would rapidly grow again ; and that, like a moulted eagle, it would ere long, soar aloft with renovated strength and richer plumage. As there is no reason, on the one hand, to suspect the bishop of Dunblane of having held out hopes, to propitiate the high episco- palians, which he thought unlikely to be veri- fied, so on the other hand, there is not the slightest groimd for charging him with du- plicity, because, while proposing an exces- sive abasement of the episcopal office, he an- ticipated its partial redintegration. Had he artfully shaped the proposed constitution, so as to leave a handle by which the bishops might recover their abdicated authority ; or had he purposely made the machinery liable to accidents and embarassments, which it would need an augmentation of the episco- pal influence to remedy, he would justly have incurred the reproach of double deal- ing. But it is obvious that he studied, with the greatest good faith, to accommodate his plan to the presbyterian taste as nearly as the government with which he acted would endure. No doubt he foresaw the likelihood of the presbyterian ministers themselves, as soon as the fever of faction and bigotry should be allayed, unclosing their eyes to the inconvenience of so immoderately retrench- ing the powers of their chief functionary. Such foresight is creditable to his penetra- tion, without disparagement to his integrity. In order to form an adequate estimate of this reat bishop's merits, it is necessary to re- ect upon the extraordinary difficulties with which he had to contend. He was media- ting between two fierce parlies, who agreed in nothing but unkind suspicions of himself ; and it was hardly within the compass of hu- man skill and wisdom, in that squally season, to steer so exactly through a narrow and in- tricate channel, as to escape the rocks on one side Avithout striking upon those on the other. It was his difficult task to keep on terms with the impatient arrogance of the episcopal party, at the same time that he ac- commodated himself to the crabbed humors and contracted^enius of the nonconformists. He had at once to propitiate jealous adver- saries, and to obviate the misconduct of luke- warm or dishonest confederates. One while he was thwarted by the king's despotic jeal- ousies, and again he was traversed by the selfish wiliness of Lauderdale. That he should have done so much, and endured so bravely, must therefore be ascribed to a zeal, a diligence, a constancy, a wisdom, an un- quenchable benevolence, and a valorous self- devotion, before which everything bent but the inflexible sinews of relentless bigotry. It was the Earl of Kirkadine's advice, that no treaty should be attempted with the pres- byterians ; but that whatevCT concessions it might be thought expedient to make, should pass into laws : and he hoped that, when they saw nothing further was to be expected from holding out, they would accede to the new arrangements. In this opinion Leighton fully concurred ; but Lord Lauderdale refus- ed his assent, with a sinister purpose, it was shrewdly suspected, of frustrating the at- tempt at accommodation. It was then re- solved to try whether anything could be effected by private negotiation. With this view Burnet was sent to Hutchinson,* who was connected with him by marriage, and was esteemed the most learned man of that party, to sound his sentirnents on the com- prehension, but not to propose it officially. The wary minister took care, however^ not to commit himself, observing that he was but one of many, and his opinion that of a simple individual. All he would say was, that the project was not in his eyes very promising ; but he reserved his sentence on the particular concessions proposed, until they should be ratified by competent authority. Shortly after this abortive negotiation, the experiment was tried of granting some of the vacant churches to the most moderate of the presbyterian ministers. The adoption of this measure was accelerated, if not occasioned, by a letter of Burnet to Lord Tweedale, in v/hich he strongly advised it ; and being known to cherish an almost filial reverence for Leighton, it was naturally presumed that he was the organ of the bishop's sentiments. The fact is, however, that the letter in ques- tion had not been imparted to Leighton ; nor would it, there is reason to think, have ob- tained his concurrence. This measure, which was contrary to the law that had vested the right of parochial institution in the bishops, was productive of little or no advantage. The indulged minis- ters could not, in common decency, launch out against the episcopal platform ; and they were driven to preach more on Christian doc- trine and practice than suited the temper of the times. Hence they fell under a reproach with their several congregations, which pre- vented their usefulness ; and what ^vhh the contemptuous invectives of the non-indulged ministers on the one hand, and the unkind * George Hutchinson was educated at Glasgow, and was accounted one of the greatest preachers of the presbyterian party. He was a learned man, and wrote' on the twelve Minor Prophets, on the book of Job, and on the gospel of St Jolin. He died in the year 1674. 26 ■ THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. reception they met with from the presbyte- rian laity on the other, they seem to have rapidly sunk into a state of cowardice and supineness, which extinguished all the hopes that had been raised on their appointment. In November, 1669, a bill was laid before the parliament of Scotland, well known as the Assertory Act, which carried to an ex- orbitant extent^the royal prerogative. It as- serted, that " all things relating to the ex- ternal government of the church belonged to the crown ; and that all things relating to ecclesiastical meetings, matters, and persons, were to be ordered according to such direc- tions as the king should send to his privy council." There is reason to believe that a leading object with the devisors of this bill was, to curry favor with the heir presump- tive to the throne, by paving the way for the ingress of popery. Yet it was artfully con- trived to catch the passions of the presbyte- rians, who thought the chance would be im- proved for the abolition of prelacy, if it rest- ed with an individual to abrogate it at any time wiih a singlg dash of the pen, than if it could only be effected through the tedious formalities and contentious proceedings of par- liament. Some moderate men. Lord Twee- dale avowedly, and probably the Bishop of Dunblane, regarded this measure with more favor, or strictly speaking with less aversion, than it merited ; for they imagined that it was designed only to justify the Indulgence, and to remove impediments out of the way of that pacific policy on which the king had entered. It is to be lamented that Leighton should have been inveigled by these consider- ations into voting for a measure, which added such dangerous powers to the crown. It was not, indeed, till after many demurs, and in- sisting upon several modifications, that he at length yielded it his suffrage ; but what was his indignation at finding interpolated in the bill, when it came out with the royal sanc- tion, the momentous words " ecclesiastical affairs ;" while sundry saving and explana- tory clauses, which had been inserted at his instance in the rough draught., were omit- ted ! Such a scandalous fraud is very cred- ible of the profligate statesmen of those ini- quitous times, and will go far, with candid minds, to vindicate the bishop from the blame of incaution; but to the end of his days he reflected on this affair with self-re- proach, and bitterly regretted that his judg- ment should have slumbered on such an oc- casion. The first exertion of the authority vested m the sovereign by this bill was the removal of Archbishop Barnet from Glasgow, in which see he had earned but a sorry reputation for episcopal virtues. Immediately after his de- posal, Leighton was pressed by the Earls of Lauderdale and Tweedale to accept the va- cant dignity. To this proposal he testified the utmost repugnance, and indeed pertina- ciously withstood it, till he was induced to be- lieve that his translation to a sphere of such extensive influence would bring him nearer to the grand and governing object of his life ; the king's ministry having engaged to lend its utmost support to his plan of accomo- dation. In consequence of this promotion, he received a summons to court ; and in his way up to London he called on Dr. Gilbert Burnet, who then filled the chair of divinity at Glas- gow. With him he concerted the likeliest means of composing the feuds of the church ; a work in which he had embarked with the spirit of a martyr, and which he strenuously followed up by labors and watchings, through conflicts, defamation, and outrages, with toil of body and anguish of heart ; a dearer price than he would have consented to give for any worldly dignities, but nothing to what he would have gladly paid down to purchase the welfare of the Christian Zion. It has been related that, two years before, Leighton had intimated pretty plainly to the king, the necessity of resorting to some ex- traordinary measures, to rescue the episcopal church from impending ruin. At that con- ference, however, he submitted no specific expedient; fearing, perhaps, to impede his own designs by overforwardness ; and con- vinced that the measures, which he had in contemplation, were such as royalty would never endure, until driven to them by an ob- vious and urgent necessity. But now that Charles had learned, from two years' longer experience, the dangerous folly of attempting to produce uniformity by compulsion ; and now that Leighton, by his elevation to the metropoliton see of Glasgow, stood on more advantageous ground than heretofore for dealing plainly with the sovereign, no reason remained for delay. Mingling policy with truth, he represented the vast advantage that would accrue to his majesty's government, if the people of Scotland could be brought to a better temper. Nor was the king insensible to the sound sense of the archbishop's repre- sentations. Accordingly he acceded to all that was demanded of him, and caused a pa- per of instructions to be drawn up, conform- able to the archbishop's ideas, and to be transmitted to the Earl of Lauderdale, ac- companied with orders to that minister to obtain the enactment of corresponding laws. There are symptoms, however, in this trans- action of Charles of that recklessness of falsehood, with which he was deeply tainted both in his domestic and civil character. Lauderdale, too, was a minister, whose movements always answered to the wishes of his profligate master ; and it would be hard to conceive that any good scheme should pass through such hands without miscarrying or turning to ev^. When Leighton had compassed this point, his next endeavor was to generate such a spirit in his diocess as should favor his con- ciliatory operations ; such a genial atmo- sphere of holy charity, if the expression may iLI THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 27 De allowed, as should suit with the medici- nal process he had instituted for restoring the health of the country. To do this effectually it was expedient that he should remove to Glasgow ; the affairs of which see, from a modest repugnance to assume the archi-epis- copal dignities, he had hitherto administered as commendator only, from a distance. In- deed, it appears from the register of the par- liamentary council, that, though nominated and presented, he was never formally trans- lated to the see of Glasgow. As soon as he had removed to this city from Dunblane, he held a synod of his clergy, who were loud in their complaints of desertion and ill usage, and craved immediate redress. This appeal was not answered with promises of compel- ling the people to attend the church, and of inflicting fines and other punishments on the contumacious. To the surprise and mortifi- cation of the clergy, who were little accus- tomed to such doctrines, the only weapons recommended by their metropolitan were of ethereal temper ; forbearance, conciliation, and a humble waiting upon God. '^Leighton, in a sermon that he preached to them, and in several discourses both in public and private, exhorted them to look up more to God ; to con- sider themselves as the ministers of the cross of Christ ; to bear the contempt and ill usage they met with as a cross laid on them for the exercise of their faith and patience ; to lay aside all the appetites of revenge ; to humble themselves before God ; to have many days for secret fasting and prayers ; and to meet often together, that they might quicken and assist one another in those holy exercises ; and then they might expect blessings from heaven upon their labors."* Not content with these endeavors to im- prove his clergy, he also went about the country, taking Burnet with him, on a visit to the most influential of the indulged minis- ters, whom he tried to gain over by sound ar- gumentation and by Christian gentleness. He let them know that propositions would shortly be laid before them in a more regular form, with a view of allaying the heats and jealousies that now burned so fiercely, of putting an end to the unhappy differences that now separated brother from brother, and of uniting all parties in the bonds of amicable forbearance at least, if not of perfect unanim- ity. He also pledged himself that the busi- ness should be carried on with unreserved cordiality ; that no offers on his part should be retracted or frittered away ; and that, on being accepted, they should forthwith pass into laws. But in this embassy of love he was met with chilling unkindness. Not a grain of concession could be extorted from the covenanters ; who probably inferred from the gratuitous advances made toward them that the balance in the royal counsels was inclining in their favor. Perhaps, too, they Were tlie more incapable of appreciating the * Burnet's History of his own Time j book ii. frankness and ingenuity of Leighton, through being practised upon by mischievous emis- saries, who found it an easy task to confirm in their obduracy minds more than half sear- ed by protracted animosities and rancorous reflections. In their ideas the complete suc- cess of their party was identified with the triumph of Christ's church ; and prela tic domination with the supremacy of Antichrist. They were debarred by an imperious con- science from entering into any terms of com- position with the impure Spirit, which had issued from the bottomless pit, and was blast- ing their goodly Zion ; and they dreaded the condemnation of Saul in the war of Amalek, should they spare any part of the Babylonish system from utter extermination. Such were their principles ; and consistent with these was the welcome given to the archbishop's overtures for an accommodation. Sometimes, indeed, his condescension was requited with absolute incivility and rudeness. He there- fore returned from his apostolic circuit, dis- pirited and almost despondent ; yet still re- solved to try the experiment of a solemn and official congress with the presbyterian lead- ers ; it being possible that some spirits among them of softer mould might be wrought upon to entertain his proposals. Should the attempt fail, it would still have discovered to the na- tion at large, with what party it rested that the breaches of the church were not healed ; and, while it fully acquitted the episcopalians of intolerance, it would expose the machina- tions and diminish the credit of the enemies to peace and unity. The first meeting took place at Holyrood- House in Edinburgh, on the 9th of August, 1670. Lauderdale, the high commissioner, with some lords of the council, Leighton, Professor Burnet, and Patterson, afterward archbishop of Glasgow, formed the array on one side ; and on the opposite side appeared Hutchinson, Wedderburn, Ramsay, and two other ministers of repute with their party. Lauderdale opened the meeting with a conciliatory harangue, in which he besought the presbyterian disputants to assist the royal commissioners, in conformity with his majesty's earnest wishes, to appease the commotions of the church, and to settle it anew on a basis of reciprocal concession. He was followed by Leighton, who dwelt feel- ingly on the evils of schism, and detailed the calamities which had already resulted from the mutual alienation of episcopalians and anti-episcopalians ; but earnestly trusted that both parties would now co-operate, heart and hand, in washing out this stain of prot- estantism, and introducing an era of frater- nal love and concord. After notifying the readiness of the bishops to stoop to the lowest point of defensible condescension in meeting the presbyterian scruples, he drew a comparison between the rival platforms ; pointing out the defects inherent in the presbyterian, and the ground there was 28 THE LIFE OF AKCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. for concluding that episcopacy had exist- ed in substance, if not in name, from the infantile age of Christianity. He labored to convince them, that many parts of the pres- byterian discipline were not fortified by apos- tolic practice, and bore no signature of a di- vine appointment : that, in establishing a form of ecclesiastical government, we are free to institute offices of which the inspired volume furnishes no precedent, provided nothing contrary to the orders of Chrisi, and to the spirit of his religion, be admitted ; j and that, by submitting to the episcopal form, j they would not bind themselves to comply with anything repugnant to the dispensa- i tion of the gospel, nor to tolerate any en- ! croachment on the pastoral functions. If, hoAvever, they scrupled lo allow of fixed pres- idents nominated by the sovereign ; or if ; they apprehended that along with the presi- , dency some more exceptionable jurisdiction would accrue to the bishops — against these ^ contingents they should be at liberty to i enter a prospective protest, in as full and , public a manner as they pleased. Such lati- ' tude being granted to tender consciences, j he thought the sacrifices it remained for , them to make could only be refused by fas- | tidious squeamishness, or vexatious obstina- j cy ; and he conjured them to weigh the whole matter, as in the presence of God, without respect to party or popularity. No | ter against whom his parishioners had chai' ges to prefer. The king's council however interposed, and added to this consistory cer- tain lay commissioners : — a suspicious inter- ference, that seemed intended to perplex the business, and prevent its being done efTectu- ally. Such at least was the result ; for the prosecution of clerical delinquencies w^as hampered with so many difficulties, and the accuser fell under such heavy penalties if he failed to substantiate his deposition, that few parishes ventured to impeach their minister, except for immoralities too notorious to be denied, and too gross to be palliated. I can not ascertain whether it were before, or shortly after, the initial convocation, that Leighton fell upon another expedient to fur- ther the great end for which alone he seemed to live. He sent on a tour to the western counties Burnet and five other episcopal clergymen, among whom were Nairn and Charteris, divines in the highest esteem for erudition and piety. The object of this mis- sion is variously reported. In a paper of the Lansdown manuscripts, which is copied with some additions into Wodrow's disingen- uous history, it is pretended that Leighton anticipated nothing short of a national con- version from the eloquence of these mission- aries. From Burnet, however, who could not be misinformed of the archbishop's mo- tives, we learn that the directions given to answer, or none of any consequence, was re- | himself and his associates w^ere — " to argue turned at the tim% to this powerful address ; but, the following morning, Hutchinson went with his colleagues, whose prolocutor he seems to have been, to the archbishop's chamber, and there argued at length on the propositions submitted to them the prece- ding day. Lauderdale wanted an immediate and positive answer ; but from this the min- isters excused themselves, on the ground upon the grounds of the accommodation.' In his account of this transaction there is a palpable fairness which carries conviction. He frankly admits that the people did not fiock to them in crowds, although a congre- gation respectably numerous was seldom wanting ; and he pays a high tribute to the religious information and argumentative skill of the common people, and to their readiness that they could speak only as individuals, j on scriptural topics, though he found these having no authority to stipulate for their brethren in general. The plea was consid- ered reasonable, and proceedings were sus- pended till the 1st of November ; in which interval they were to collect the sentiments of their fraternitv, and to come to the next excellences marred with a bitter leaven of self-conceit, and " a most entangled scrupu- losity." This pious attempt was productive of no lasting benefit : for no sooner had the episcopal detachment quitted the field, than it was reoccupied by the conventicles, which conference prepared with a record, which i had been at a stand during their stay ; and might be acted upon as official. Lord Laud- erdale was naturally haughty and irritable ; and having been used to the refinement of courts, he might find it hard to brook, and would be apt to misconstrue, conscientious plain-dealing. Certain it is, however, that he imbibed on this occasion a very unfavora- ble opinion of the nonconformists. He com- plained of the behavior being rude and crafty ; and it required all Leighton's fine temper and managemenPto prevent him from hand- ling them roughly. About this time, the archbishop conceived a plan for purging his diocess of scandalous ministers. For this purpose he appomted a board of examiners, who were empowered to summon before them any officiating minis- hot brained preachers cast again the touch of bigotry upon materials which were lamenta- bly prone to inflame. In truth, the meas- ures now in train for winning over the anti- episcopal party to moderate sentiments, fail- ing of that happy issue, did but widen the breach ; as is commonly the result of abor- tive efforts at reconciliation. The fire, not being stifled, was stirred. Met together to canvass the proffered indulgence, the cov- enanters had their spirits inflamed by debate and altercation ; and as they went on argu- ing, the points which severed them from the pale of episcopacy seemed to multiply, and to grow in importance. Regarding the over- tures of ihe royal commissioners for a com- promise, as a stratagem for enticing the gar- THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 29. nsoa of presbytery into a capitulation of its principal bulwarks,they animated each other to persist in a resistance, of which they ar- gued a speedy and glorious termination, against that twofold mystery of iniquity, pre- latic dominion and servile Erastianism. *« They helped every one his neighbor, and ev- ery one said to his brother, be of good cour- age." In vain did Leighion endeavor by pa- pers of logical argument, or of pathetic re- monstrance, to persuade them that by alter- ing their discipline in some few particulars, which nowise affected its essence, they would only be conforming to a principle on which they had acted during Cromwell's usurpation, and even subsequently to the restoration. None of these considerations had any weight with men, the excesses of whose zeal were prescribed or ratified by a stern and moody conscience. If he attempted by letters to impress some of the more dispassionate min- isters with opinions favorable to his propo- sal, the attempt was reprobated as unfair ; and not a little off'ence was taken at his ven- turing, in epistolary correspondence with his private friends, to reflect upon the spirit which had it shown itself in the presbyterian party ; and to prognosticate the failure of the nesrotiation.* But Leighton, though wearied and broken- hearted, resolved to make another attempt to burst the strongholds of presbyterian preju- dice, or the still less penetrable barriers of party spirit : — — " ter saxea tentat Limina nequicquam ; ter fessus valle resedit." After some vexatious opposition, another con- ference took place at Paisley, on the 14th of December, 1670, in which 'the archbishop, assisted by two clergymen, entered the lists with about twenty-six of the nonconformists. It was opened in a manner illustrative of the candor and piety of Leighton, by a prayer from the oldest minister in the town. The archbishop then made an able and eloquent speech, in which he went over the old ground ; but aimed especially at making his opponent sensible, how unreasonable and blameable it was to abate nothing on their side, but to exact unbounded concession from the other. He further urged them to reflect, whether they would have refused commu- nion with the church at the period of the Nicene council ; and yet episcopacy was then of a lordlier character than it now aff'ected in Scotland.! On the other side it was con- * See Letters in the Appendix. t The following citation from a work entitled, " The Present State of Scotland," by Matthias Sym- son, Canon of Lincoln, shows that episcopacy in that country was already in point of fact, in consequence no doubt of Leighton's exertions, reduced almost as low as the nature of an episcopol church could admit. After the king's restoration, when bishops were re-established, none were admitted into the ministry but by episcopal ordination : though every bishop did not use the same form, yet none of them (except Bishcp Mitchel) imposed what was called reordina- tended, that archbishops were unknown to the primitive church ; that bishops were pa- rochial, and not diocesan ; that two might act together in one church ; and that they were elected by their presbyters, to whom they were accountable for the discharge of their functions. To these objections Profes- sor Burnet, at the request of Leighton, who was fatigued with speaking, replied at con- siderable length ; either controverting the facts asserted, or impeaching the conclusion drawn from them.* In the course of the de- bate, which was very wearing to mind and body, the archbishop's nose began to bleed ; and this incident was matter of some exulta- tion to his adversaries, who attributed it to the hard knocks he had received in the theo- logical combat. Whether these ofjima spolia were the best grounds they had for chanting a paean, it is not our present business to in- ' quire. Nothing, however, was effected tow- ard the establishment of peace. Both par- ; ties claimed the victory in argument ; and I not a step was taken by the presbyterians to I meet the episcopalians, who carried home j nothing but humiliation, after going more than half way to embrace their froward and ungracious brethren. At the close of this conference which Leighton had industriously brought about, in hopes of giving such a turn to the temper of the nonconformists as might have a kindly influence on their final decision, he gave them in writing the propositions which had before been only verbally communicated. It was not without reluctance that he committed them to paper ; and it is easy to conjecture the bad consequences he might apprehend tion on such as had been ordained otherwise, though they did not refuse it to such as desired it. They enjoined no form of public prayer, except the Lord's prayer ; but left every minister to his owm liberty, both in common, as well as occasional worship, and administration of the sacraments ; they enjoined no habits (that was left to the king's disposal), though they generally wore black gowns and bands ; they had no god-fathers and god-mothers, nor the cross in baptism ; they required no ring in marriage, nor gen- ufluxion in the eucharist, unless the communicant pleased. They did not demand subscription to the old and first confession of the reformers, but conniv- ed at the Westminister confessions and catechisms ; they enjoined no holy days, and observed but few. For the exercise of discipline they had synods, and also presbyteries, where candidates for orders and institution were examined ; who also had cognizance of all ecclesiastit;al cases, under the inspection and re- view of the diocesan. There were very few sine- cures ; they knew nothing of pluralities, and very lit- tle of non-residence. No lay-elders were admitted, but in every parish the minister chose several of the most noted inhabitants, like a select vestry, to assist him in parochial discipline, which in effect were as ruling elders, though not admitted as, or allowed to be, gospel officers. So indulgent were the governors and other great men, that in many parishes presbyte- rian ministers (if they would but pray for the king, which divers of them would not do) were allowed to officiate in the churches, and receive the whole profits, without being any ways accountable to the bishop, or ecclesiastical establishment, on any score whatsoever." * See Burnet's Vindication, &c. Fourth Conference, 30 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. from such an instrument being divulged. Among others, it would tend to circumscribe the concessions he could make to the cove- nanters, and would straiten him in the exer- cise of that discretionary power with which he was apparently intrusted. To proclaim the meditated extent of the royal liberality, was in fact to lay a restraint upon it ; since it could not well overpass the limit it had pub- licly prescribed to itself, without incurring the disgrace of having been forced beyond its spontaneous issue. However, it was im- possible for Leighton to refuse the demand, without falling under the suspicion which would have been fatal to his further proceed- ings, that he was designedly leaving open a way of retreat from the performance of ex- torted promises. On taking leave of the ministers, he requested them to lose no time in preparing a final answer, as one would in all probability be called for by the end of January. The meeting took place accordingly at the house of Lord Rothes, where this tedious treaty was concluded by Hutchinson, in the name of the whole fraternity, returning this "short and dry answer," as Leighton desig- nates it; ''We are not free in conscience to close with the propositions, made by the bishop of Dunblane, as satisfactory." Leigh- ton begged for an explicit statement of their reasons for persisting in a course so contrary to the peace and welfare of the church ; but the presbyterian representatives excused themselves from all argument on the subject. Being requested to submit propositions, on their part, which might furnish a hopeful basis for a fresh negotiation, they declined the invitation on the plea that their senti- ments were already before the world ; there- by signifying that nothing would satisfy them, short of the utter extinction of episco- pacy. The archbishop perceiving that no terms would be accepted by this untractable race, delivered himself, before the assembly broke up, at considerable length and with energetic solemnity. He unfolded the mo- tives by which he had been actuated in set- ting afloat this negotiation, and in still ur- ging it forward, when wave upon wave was driving it back. "My sole object has been to procure peace, and to advance the interests of true religion. In following up this object I have made several proposals which I am fully sensible involved great diminutions of the just rights of episcopacy. Yet, since all church power is intended for edification, and not for destruction, I thought that, in our present circumstances, episcopacy might do more for the prosperity of Christ's kingdom by relaxing some of its just pretensions, than it could by keeping hold of all its rightful authority. It is not from any mistrust of the soundness of our cause, that I have offered these abatements ; for I am well convinced that episcopacy has subsisted from the apos- tolic age of the church. Perhaps I may have wronged my own order in making such large concessions; but the unerring Discerner of hearts will justify my motives ; and I hope ere long to stand excused with my own brethren. You have thought fit to reject our overtures, without assigning any reason for the rejection, ..and without suggesting any healing measures in the room of ours. The continuance of the divisions, through which religion languishes, must consequently lie at your door. Before God and man I wash my hands of Avhatever evils may result from the rupture of this treaty. I have done my ut- most to repair the temple of the Lord ;' and my sorrow will not be embittered by com- punction, should a flood of miseries hereafter rush in through the gap you have refused to assist me in closing." Thus did the bark unhappily founder, which was freighted with the treasures of religious peace and concord. It was not as- suredly owing to unskilful pilotage, for noth- ing could surpass the prudence, the knowl- edge, and the fortitude, displayed by the apostolic man who was seated at the helm. But the vessel was not equally happy in all who had a share in its management ;'and it had to contend with such a current of na- tional feelings, of selfish passions and re- ligious enthusiasm, as was only to be counter- acted by perfect harmony in counsel and ac- tion, Nothing can be conceived more frank and magnanimous than the conduct of Leigh- ton was throughout his transactions whh the dissentient clergy ; in his own account of the accommodation, the extent of his offers is thus stated : — "It was declared to them, that the differ- ence between us should be freely referred to the Scriptures first of all, and next to the judgment and practice of the primitive church ; and to the whole catholic Christian church in succeeding ages ; and to the most famous and most leading persons of the late Reformation, as Calvin, Luther, Melancthon; yea, and to the reformed churches abroad, even to those that at present have no bish- ops ; and last of all to the presbyterians of Eng- land ; and that, if from all these, or any of these, they could justify their continuing divided, even after these offers made, then it should he yielded to them as a thing reason- able. Yea, the person that propounded this further offered them, that if, before the noble and judicious persons then present, or that should be present at the time of such a con- ference, they should produce strong and clear reasons for their opinion and practice in this point of difference, as now it stands qualified, he would forthwith resign his present station and become their proselyte, and would unite and actVith them, and if he were called to it, would suffer with them."* It sometimes happens that measures, which owed their birth to a dangerous crisis, and at the moment were highly beneficial, are con- • Wodrow MSS., vol. xxxiv., 4to, Art. 15. THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 31 verted into sources of enormous evil by the ' folly which bids them to expire with the crisis ; as ihough what had proved useful as a temporary expedient, must needs be salu- tary as a permanent institution. It is strange- ly forgotten that ihe drug, which is an in- valuable specific for particular diseases, would make a very bad article of diet ; and that nothing can be worse suited for domes- tic dress than the coat of-mail, although it is of excellent service in the field of battle. That notable compact, the League and Cove- nant, affords a specimen of this mischievous error. Notwithstanding it coniained some very objectionable clauses, it was at its rise of real utility, in shielding the protestant con- federacy from the revenge of the discomfited papists. But the terrible objurations, within which it was intrenched for the purpose of securing its immortality, and which went to bind it on future generations, changed it into a snare and a pest, into a nurse of strife and sedition : and into a barrier asrainst peace, the moment it ceased to be a bond of con- cord. It was on this, indeed, that the treatv with Leighton mainly hitched. After he had proved that no rule of Scripture forbids the appointment of a bishop to be the constant president in s\-nods ; that the fixed presidencv of the bishops in synods has as good warrant as the fix:ed moderation of a presbvter in kirk sessions, and of ruling elders : that the New Testament nowhere enjoins, directly or by implication, a parity of presbvters, but seems favorable to a regular subordination of ecclesiastical offices: that neither the name of bishop, as conferred on the superior pres- byter, nor yet the manner of consecrating him to his office, can be offensive to sober"^ minded Christians; and that while the de- gree of authority vested in the bishops va- ried with var}-ing circumstances, yet some such special and pre-eminent power as was now claimed, exors quondam aique erninens poiestas, appeared from the annals of the prirnitive church, and the canons of the most ancient councils, to have alwavs lodged with certain individuals :— when Leighton had proved all this by reasonings with which it was inconvenient to ^rrapple, the presbyte- rians took shelter under the solemn oath, which forbade, to use their own expression, " a hoof, or so much as a hair of the Scottish model to be altered." It was vain to allege the illegality of their covenant, and the duly of renoiincing an engagement, which must be criminal, if it precluded such alterations as the oracles of God demanded. It was vain to insist that a door for modification and amendment had been intentionallv left open by the very framers of the covenant. Noth- irig was to be done with these stiffnecked disputants. The covenant, the covenant, was the watchward, by which party spirit, should it have slackened for a momput, was mstant- ly strung to its original rigor : and the flames of fanaticism which had been slaked by the : pathetic eloquence of Leighton, dropping on them " as the gentle rain from heaven," quickly broke out anew, and raged with re- doubled and desperate violence. We have had occasion to expose the punc- tilious cavillings of the nonconformists. Leighton has left his opinion on record that the failure of the negotiation was mainly owing to the " interest and affectation of continuing a divided party ;'" yet he candidly allowed that " they had more honest hearts among them, than strong heads." But, as it would be a great mistake to deny, on the one hand, that a large share of conscientious, disinter- ested, and high-minded feeling was inter- mingled with sentiments of a baser leaven, so, on the other hand, it ought not to be dis- sembled, that the character of most of the episcopalian leaders was far from ch.iming the esteem and confidence of their opponents. The most ardent promoters of the accomoda- tion, and among them the king, were men whom it were dotage to imagine under the influence of religious principle ; and the whole project was undisguisedly detested by the bench of bishops, and by the mass of the episcopalian clergy. Under these circum- stances the jealousy of the covenanters ad- mits of some palliation. They might appre- hend that, however sincere Leighfon him- , self was, they still had no guarantee for those stipulations being fulfilled, the execu- tion of which depended on others more than on himself. They might fear that episco- pacy, like the Vishnu of Hindostan, if, by creeping in imder a pigmy form, it should wheedle them out of just room enough to stand upon, would straightway dilate into a giant bulk, touch the heavens with its head and "bestride the narrow world," and tread to the dust that venerable structure within the pale of which it had been rashly admit- ted. Possessed with^these terrors, which they would naturally scruple to acknowledge, and driven back from one possession to an- other by the persevering condescension of Leighton, they were compelled to make a last stand behind pitiful subterfuges. In the meantime their jealousies and resentments were kept alive by the violences which were proceeding all round the narrow circle, in which the treaty was under discussion. A wise and honest policy would have suspend- ed all severities. It would have hushed the storm of persecution which was so unpro- pitious to calm deliberation and amicable convention. But, instead of this being done, there came forth in the very crisis of the ne- gotiation, an atrocious bill against conven- ticles, contrived to pass harmlessly over the heads of Roman catholics, but to alight with deadly force on protestant nonconformists. This edict was hurried throusrh parliament with such indecent haste, that Leighton was not apprized of it, till the time to' oppose it was past. But, true to his manly indepen- dence, he expostulated severely upon it with 32 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. Lord Tweedale, and declared that the whole ; complexion of it was so contrary^ to the com- j mon rules of humanity, not to say Christian- \ ity, that he was ashamed to mix in council with the contrivers and abettors of such acts. It would he more curious than useful, to speculate on the probable duration and utility of an ecclesiastical constitution, adjusted to the ideas of the Archbishop of Glasgow. No doubt, in a church, connected, as ours is, with the civil government, there would be a ! tendency in the episcopal part of such a con- 1 stitution to supplant the presbyterian. Yet i might not means be devised for checkiDg en- croachments, and for constantly restoring the ! system, before it had been seriously injured ? I It may perhaps be permitted to those who think, with Leighton, that neither one nor another outward frame of the church is ab- solutely essential to its integrity and useful- ness, to lament that the experiment was not made, of so blending the presbyterian with the episcopal economy as to produce some- thing nearer, than subsists in the British isl- ands, to the primeval pattern. To suppose this impossible is to make a supposition, which both reason and experience disclaim. There is nothing in simple episcopacy that tends to despotism, beyond what obtains in every otiier form of government, not except- ing forms of the most democratical aspect ; nothing beyond what results from that ambi- tious propensity of our nature, which consti- tutional barriers may keep down, but which is always laboring upward. The spirit of domination may be more concentrated and apparent in the Anglican church, than in the Scottish, without being more abundant and hurtful. The fact is, that in every kind of regimen there are cerlain connatural impuri- ties, from which it can never be thoroughly defecated. You may scum for ever, but fresh scum will still be rising, till the liquor is wholly exhausted.* Some risk must be run notwithstanding all our safeguards ; some feculence remain after all our refining. But it is the triumph of political wisdom, to pro- duce with the smallest risk of the least con- iiderable evils the largest sum of public ben- efit. That this praise belongs to episcopacy has often been shown with great cogency of argument ; and could that form of polity be in some degree restored to its ancient sim- plicity, the church might be expected, under its shelter and superintendence, to attain the highest perfection of which an earthly church is capable. Some observations of Leighton on the faulty state of the Anglican church, though peculiarly applicable to his own times, are such as may even now be pondered with ad- vantage. Bishop Burnet has told us, that he looked on the state of the English church with very melancholy reflections ; for, while he fully admitted that, in respect to doctrine and worship, and the main part of govern- ment, it was the best constituted church in the world ; yet, in point of actual adminis- tration, it was one of the most defective. In discipline, which he held to be a matter of prime importance, it was, he affirmed, infe- rior to the corrupt church of Rome itself He also deplored the hasty and incautious or- dination of ministers, whose qualificacions for the office had not been ascertained ; and he regarded as a portentous evil the insuf- ficiency of many livings for the maintenance of their incumbents, whereby it appears that some of the clergy in the north of England, were driven to keep alehouses, the very men " who should have strenuously endeavored to keep themselves and others out of them." Nor did the conduct of the spiritual courts in those times escape his severe animadversion. Leighton 's advancement to Glasgow seems not to have dissolved his cormexion with his former diocess ; and his constant attachment to its clergy is strikingly manifested, in the following pastoral letter to the s>Tiod of Dun- blane : — Glasgow, April 6, 1671. "Reverend Brethren: The superadded burden that I have here sits so heavy upon me, that I can not escape from under it, to be with you at this time, but my heart and de- sires shall be with you, for a blessing from above upon your meeting. I have nothing to recommend to you, but (if you please) to take a review of things formerly agreed upon, and such as you judge most useful, to renew the appointment of putting them in practice ; and to add whatsoever further shall occur to your thoughts, that may promote the happy discharge of your ministry, and the good of your people's souls. I know I need not re- mind you, for I am confident you daily think of it, that the great principle of fidelity, and diligence, and good success, in that great work, is love ; and the great spring of love to souls, is love to him that bought them. He knew it well himself ; and gave us to j know it, when he said, " Simon, lovest thou me? Feed my sheep, feed my lambs." Deep impressions of his blessed name upon our hearts will not fail to produce lively expres- sions of it, not only in our words and dis- courses, in private and public, but will make the whole track of our lives to be a true copy and transcript of his holy life. And if there be within us any sparks of that divine love, you know the best way, not only to pre- serve them, but to excite them, and blow them up into a flame, is by the breath of prayer. Oh prayer ! the converse of the soul with God, the breath of God in man return- ing to its original, frequent, and fervent pray- er, the better half of our whole work, and that which makes the other half lively and effectual : as that holy company tells us, when appointing deacons to serve the tables, they add, " But we will give ourselves con- tinually to prayer, and the ministry of the word." And is it not, brethren, our unspeak- I able advantage, beyond all the gainful and THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 33 honorable employments of the world, that the whole work of our particular calling is a kind of living in heaven, and besides its ten- dency to the saving of the souls of others, is all along so proper and adapted to the puri- fying and saving of our OAvn ? But you will possibly say, what does he himself that speaks these things unto us? Alas! lam ashamed to tell you. All I dare say is this : I think I see the beauty of holiness, and am enamored with it though I attain it not ; and how little soever I attain, would rather live and die in the pursuit of it, than in the pur- suit, yea, or in the possession and enjoyment, though unpursued, of all the advantages that this world affords. And I trust, dear breth- ren, you are of the same opinion, and have the same desire and design, and follow it both more diligently, and with better suc- cess. But I will stop here, lest I should for- get myself, and possibly run on till I have wearied you, if I have not done that already: and yet if it be so, I will hope for easy par- don at your hands, as of a fault I have not been accustomed to heretofore, nor am likely hereafter often to commit. To the all-pow- erful grace of our great Lord and Master, I recommend you, and your flocks, and your whole work among them ; and do earnestly entreat your prayers for ** Your unworthiest, but most affectionate, " Brother and Servant, R. Leighton." Some time after the negotiation with the nonconformists had gone off, Leighton was required by a royal mandate to assist the Lords of the Council in nominating proper men to four vacant sees. Nairn, Charteris, and Burnet, were the persons he fixed upon to fill three of them ; and he was seriously distressed to find these clergymen resolute in rejecting the appointment. At first he was disposed not to recommend any others, since those whom he considered most eligible re- fused to bring their shoulder under the bur- den. But, on mature consideration, he thought it his duty rather to present the best qualified persons who could be induced to undertake It, than to leave the appointment in hands, not apt to administer power to the advantage of true religion. Another feeble attempt was made by the Duke of Lauderdale, in the year 1672, to re- duce the turbulence of the covenanters, by executing the measure that Burnet had long before suggested, of placing the discarded ministers in parishes by couples. The Arch- bishop of Glasgow had already expressed his approbation of this scheme, aptly com- paring it to " gathering into the chimney, where they might burn safely, the coals that were scattered over the house and setting it all on fire." The time, however, for repres- sing the spirit of recusancy was gone by. Dissent was now exasperated into faction ; and had the times been more favorable, it 5 would still have required a hand less way- ward and inconstant than Lauderdale's, to impress a new form on the stubborn soul of presbyterianism. Leighton now considered his work over ; and began to think of withdrawing from a post, which it seemed impossible to retain with advantage to the church. While he had made no way with the nonconformists by his earnest, his affectionate, and it might almost be said, his humiliating advances, we have seen that his colleagues were ready to brand him with treachery to their cause, and more than insinuated that he plotted the overthrow of the constitution. The indulged ministers, also, and some others, among I whom was Robert Law, from whose memo- I rials I have collected the fact, occasioned him j much uneasiness by their disorderly and se- ditious proceedings; and, indeed, by actual ' immoralities, which went to such a length, ; that he was obliged, in December, 1673, to ' send a deputation, with a formal complaint I against ihem to the Privy Council. All i these crosses and disappointments were re- garded by Leighton, as so many providential i intimations to relinquish an employment, wherein he was doing no service to the I church, while sacrificing all his personal j comfort. Anguish was drinking up his spirit, j without benefit to the cause of religion. Ac- j cordingly, he rigorously canvassed the legal- i ity of abdicating his office : he found out j several instances of bishops who had taken j that step and gone into retirement ; and at I length he fully satisfied himself that the law j of God did not require him to retain his bish- j opric, when the business of it was but to j consume its revenues in stately indolence, j On scrutinizing his own heart, he could not j perceive that he was prompted to this meas- ure by successive disgusts, by impatience of the cross, by wounded pride, by secret indig- nation at Providence, or by his natural pro- pensity to a quiet, studious, and contempla- tive privacy. Was it not a duty, rather than a fault, to renounce a position of anxious dig- nity, and barren of usefulness, for one more favorable to prayer and meditation, to com- munion with God, and to preparation for eternity ? He was now growing old and in- firm ; he had need to respire from over- whelming fatigues ; and well could he adopt for hia motto the sentence of Buchanan,, Senectute fractus, portum exoptans." The dressing and undressing of his soul, as he used to call devotional exercises, was the business to which his few remaining days ought to be consecrated ; and he " longed to escape, if only into the air among the birds," from the ungrateful service which he had not declined, when summoned to it by the exigencies of the church ; but from which he held himself discharged, now that it was become evident that no good could ensue from his remaining in it. We can hardly doubt that Leighton had 34 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. been long looking out for the moment, when he might indulge, without violence to his conscience, his disposition to seclusion from the world. The following letter to his sis- ter, Mrs. Lightmaker, apparently in the lat- ter part of his episcopacy, lets us into his feelings on this subject : — ** Dear Sister : I was strangely surprised to see the bearer here. What could occasion it I do not yet understand. At parting he earnestly desired a line to you, which with- out his desire my own affection would have carried me to, if I knew what to say but what I trust you do : and 'tis that our joint business is to die daily to this world and self, that what little remains of our life we may live to Him that died for us. For myself, to what purpose is it to tell you, what the bearer can, that I grow old and sickly; and though I have here great retirement, as great and possibly greater than I could readily find anyAvhere else, yet I am still panting after a retreat from this place and all public charge, and next to rest in the grave. It is the pres- singest desire I have of anything in this world ; and, if it might be, with you, or near you. But our heavenly Father, we quietly resigning all to him, both knows and will do what is best. Remember my kind- est affection to your son and daughter, and to Mr. Siderfin, and pray for Your poor weary brother, "R. L." Dunblane, April 19/A." This letter is dated from Dunblane, where he seems to have mostly resided, after the treaty of accommodation came to nothing. In this retreat, to which he was very partial, there is said to be still in existence a shady avenue called " The Bishop's Walk ;" a name which it took from the practice of the vener- able Leighton to pace up and down it, when he v/ished to join bodily exercise with spir- itual meditation. It was probably from there that he issued the following apostolic charge to the Synod of Glasgow, which he met for the last time on the eighth day of the following December. Letter to the Synod of Glasgow, convened April, 1673. ^'Reverend Brethren: It is neither a matter of much importance, nor can I yet give you a particular and satisfactory ac- count of the reasons of my absence from your meeting, which I trust, with the help of a little time, will clear itself: but I can assure you, I am present with you in my most affectionate wishes of the gracious presence of that Holy Spirit among you, and within you all, who alone can make this and all your meetings, and the whole work of your ministry, happy and successful, to the good of the souls, and His glory that bought them with his own blood. And I doubt not, that your own great desire each for yourself, and all for one another, is the same ; and that your daily and great employment is, by incessant and fervent prayer, to draw down from above large supplies and increases of that blessed Spirit, which our Lord and Mas- ter hath assured us that our heavenly Father will not fail to give to them that ask it. And how extreme a negligence and folly were it to want so rich a gift for want of asking, especially in those devoted to so high and holy a service, that requires so great degrees of that spirit of holiness and Divine love to purify their minds, and to raise them above their senses and this present world! Oh! my dear brethren, what are we doing, that saffer our souls to creep and grovel on this earth, and do so little aspire to the heavenly life of Christians, and more eminently of the messengers and ministers of God, as stars, yea, as angels, which he hath made spirits, and his ministers a flame of fire ! Oh ! where are souls to be found among us, that represent their own original, that are pos- sessed with pure and sublime apprehensions of God, the Father of spirits, and are often raised to the astonishing contemplation of his eternal and blessed being, and his infinite holiness, and greatness, and goodness ; and are accordingly burnt up with ardent love ! and where that holy fire is wanting, there can be no sacrifice, whatsoever our invention, or utterance, or gifts may be, and how blame- less soever the externals of our life may be, and even our hearts free from gross pollutions; for it is scarce to be suspected, that any of us will suffer any of those strange, yea, infernal fires of ambition, or avarice, or malice, or impure lusts and sensualities, to burn within us, which would render us priests of idols, of airy nothings, and of dunghill dogs, yea, of the very god of this world, the prince of darkness. Let men judge us and revile us as they please, that imports nothing at all ; but God forbid anything should possess our hearts but He that loved us, and gave himself for us ; for we know we can not be vessels of honor meet for the master's use, unless we purge ourselves from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, and empty our hearts of all things beside him, and even of ourselves and our own will, and have no more any desires noi delights, but his will alone, and his glory, who is our peace, and our life, and our all. And, truly, I think it were our best and wi- sest reflection upon the many difficulties and discouragements without us, to be driven by them to live more within ; as they observe of the bees, that when it is foul weather abroad, they are busy in their hives. If the power of external discipline be enervated in our hands, yet who can hinder us to try, and judge, and censure ourselves ; and to purge the inner temples, our own hearts, with the more severity and exactness ? And if we be dashed and bespattered with reproaches abroad, to study to be the cleaner at home ; and the less we find of meekness and charity THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 35 in the world about us, to preserve so much the more of that sweet temper within our own hearts ; blessing them that curse us, and praying for them that persecute us : so shall we most elTectually prove ourselves to be the children of our heavenly Father, even to their conviction that will scarce allow us, in any sense, to be called his servants. ''As for the confusions and contentions that still abound and increase in this church, and threaten to undo it, I think our wisdom shall be, to cease from man, and look for no help till we look more upward, and dispute and discourse less, and fast and pray more ; and so draw down our relief from the God of order and peace, who made the heavens and earth. " Concerning myself, I have nothing to say, but humbly to entreat you to pass by the many filings and weaknesses you may have perceived in me during my abode among you; and if in anything I have in- jured or offended you, or any of you, in the management of my public charge, or in pri- vate converse, I do sincerely beg your par- don : though, I confess, I can not make any requital in that kind ; for I do not know of anything toward me, from any of you, that needs a pardon in the least ; having generally paid me more kindness and respect, than a much better or wiser man could either have expected or deserved. Nor am I only a suiter for your pardon, but for the addition of a fur- ther charity, and that so great a one, that I \ have nothing to plead for it, but that I need ' it much — your prayers. And I am hopeful \ as to that, to make you some little, though | very disproportioned return ; for whatsoever ' becomes of me (through the help of God), | while I live, you shall be no one day of my life forgotten by " Your most unworthy, but most affectionate " Brother and Servant, **Il. Leighton." P. S. I do not see whom it can offend, or how any shall disapprove of it, if you will appoint a fast throughout your bounds, to en- treat a blessing on the seed committed to the ground, and for the other grave causes that are still the same as they were the last year, and the urgency of them no whit abated, but rather increased : but in this I prescribe nothing but leave it to your discretion, and the direction of God." The account is brief, which Burnet has given, of the last steps of this holy man's episcopal career. He repaired to court, and there tendered to Lauderdale the resignation of his dignities. At first the duke resolutely opposed this motion, but was at last prevail- ed upon to obtain the king's consent in wri- ting for the archbishop's retirement at the expiration of a year, if his own mind should not have undergone a change within that pe- riod, as Lauderdale expected would be the case. The following is a copy of the royal engagement : — '' Charles R. " It is our will and pleasure, that the present archbishop of Glasgow do continue in that station for one whole year ; and we shall allow liberty to him to retire from thence at the end of that time. . " Given at our court, at Whitehall, the ninth of August, 1673 ; and of our reign, the twen- ty-fifth year. By his majesty's command." Having gained this point, Leighton went back delighted, and observed to Burnet, that " there was now but one uneasy stage be- tween him and rest, and he would wrestle through it the best he could." Accordingly, no sooner was the year completed, than he hastened up to London, and laid drwn his archbishopric, which was restored to its for- mer possessor. Dr. Alexander Burnet. After his resignation, he resided for a short time in the college of Edinburgh, whence he retired to Broadhursi, a demesne in the parish of Horsted Keynes, Sussex, belonging to his sis- ter, the widow of Edward Lightmaker,Esq. ; and with her he continued till his death. The slightest notice is more, perhaps, than ought to be bestowed on the accouni which Robert Law has penned of the transaction just narrated : since to those who have the least acquaintance with Leighton's charac- ter, it must appear on the face of it to be an absurd slander. It is pretended, that the archbishop never meant to descend from his station ; but Lauderdale, whom he had offend- ed, persuaded the king to take in good earn- est his hypocritical resignation, notwithstand- ing the utmost efforts of Sir ElLs and other court friends to avert that catastrophe. Thus was the poor archbishop, as this shameless story-teller would have it believed, over- reached in his own craftiness. Dismissing this contemptible fabrication, and along with it another idle tale, that his ob- ject was to exchange his Scotch bishopric for one in England, we may adv^ert to an ac- count which, if not quite correct, yet is prob- ably not quite devoid of truth. The account is that Leighton, finding his authority in the diocesan synod of Glasgow but weak, while he administered that see un- der the title of commendator, procured him- self to be elected archbishop on the 27th of October, 1671 ; but the Duke of Lauderdale did not ratify the election by the king's let- ters patent, as is usually done in such cases. Some have supposed that this disgusted Leighton, and determined or hastened his resignation. Lauderdale tried at first to di- vert him from this step ; but when that crafty minister was endangered by a vote of the House of Commons, it occurred to him thai he might gain over the episcopal bench to his side, and thus wnrd off an impeachment, by making use of Leighton's resignation, which was left in his hands, and Tc 'a?sta- 36 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. ting Burnet,* whose deprivation had given mortal offence to the English bishops. It is very creditable that Lauderdale was induced by these considerations to accept the resignation, which he would otherwise have steadily refused, alihough it could hardly be disagreeable to him, as Leighton never stoop- ed to solicit his favor, and seldom appeared at his levees. But this admission will no- wise impugn the archbishop's sincerity in making the tender. The reasons for resigning, which he himself assigned in a paper that has appeared in Bower's History of the Universi- ty of Edinburgh, will fmd ready credit with fair and ihmking men ; inasmuch as they perfectly accord with the general tone of his mind, of his life and conversation. They are ' the following : — " Whatsoever others may judge, they that know what passed before my engaging in this charge will not (I believe) impute my retreat from it to levity or unfixedness of mind, considering how often I declared be- forehand, both by word and writing, the great suspicions I had that my continuance in it would be very short ; neither is it from any sudden passion or sullen discontent that I have now resigned it ; nor do I know any cause imaginable for any such thing ; but the true reasons of my retiring are plainly and briefly these : "1. The sense I have of the dreadful weight of whatsoever charge of souls, and all kind of spiritual inspection over people, but much more over ministers, and withal of my own extreme unworthiness and unfitness for so high a station in the church ; and there is an episcopal act that is above all others formi- dable to me — the ordaining of ministers. 2. The continuing and daily increasing divisions and contentions, and many other disorders of this church, and the little or no appearance of their cure for our time ; and as little hope amidst those contentions and disorders, of doing anything in this station to promote the great design of religion in the hearts and lives of men, which were the only reason of continuing in it, though it were with much pains and reluctance. " 3. The earnest desire I have long had of a retired and private life, which is now much increased by sickliness and old age drawing on, and the sufficient experience I have of the folly and vanity of the world. " To add any further discourse, a large apology in this matter were to no purpose ; but instead of removing other mistakes and misconstructions, would be apt to expose me to one more ; for it would look like too much valuing either of myself or the world's opin- ion, both which I think I have so much rea- son to despise." Of the habits and employments of this * This bishop was translated to St. Andrew's af- ter the assassination of Archbishop Sharp, which took place on the third day of May, A. D. 1679, on Magus Moor. He died on the 24th of August, 1684. man of God, during the sequel of his life, there remain but few particulars. Some interest- ing notices, however, of his general conver- sation, which are mostly gleaned from his nephew's letter to the bishop of Salisbury, the pen of biography will not be employed amiss in recording. We have seen that it was his purpose, in divorcing himself from the world, to give up the remnant of his days to secret and tran- quil devotion. Having spent his prime in the active duties of his profession, and in the service of his fellow-creatures, he saw no im- propriety, but rather a suitableness, in conse- crating his declining years more immediately to God ; and in making the last stage of earthly existence a season of unintermitted preparation for the scene, upon which he was to enter at the end of his journey. Ac- cordingly he lived in great seclusion ; and abstained, to the utmost, that charity and courtesy would allow, from giving and re- ceiving visits. Let it not be supposed, how- ever, that he withdrew from ministerial em- ployments. After disburdening himself of the episcopal dignity, he again took to the vocation of a parish minister, and was con- stantly engaged at Horsted Keynes, or one of the neighboring churches, in reading prayers or in preaching. In the peasant's cottage, likewise, " his tongue dropt manna and long after his decease he was talked of by the poor of his village with affectionate reverence. With deep feeling would they recall his divine counsels and consolations ; his tenderness in private converse ; and the im.pressive sanctity which he carried into the solemnities of public worship. Leighton was not by nature morose and ascetic : yet something of a cloisteral com- plexion appears to have been v/rought in him by the character of the times, and by the scarcity of men like-minded with himself. He plunged into the solitudes of devotion, with a view to escape from the polluting com- merce of the world ; to gain the highest places of sacred contemplation, and to main- tain perpetual intercourse with heaven. That he was no friend to monastic seclu- sion is certain. He reckoned the greater number of the regular clergy in Roman Cath- olic countries, to be little better than ignavi fures, rapacious drones ; at the same time that he recognised among them a few speci- mens of extraordinary growth in religion ; and thought he had discovered in the piety of some conventual recluses a peculiar and celestial flavor, which could hardly be met with elsewhere. Of their sublime devotion he often spoke with an admiration approach- ing to rapture ; and much he wished, that the sons of a purer faith and discipline could match them in that seraphic strength and swiftness of wing, by which they soared to the topmost branches of divine contemplation, and cropped the choicest clusters of heavenly THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 37 fruitage, It is not," he would say, <*the want of religious houses, but of spiritual hearts, that glues the wing of our affections, and hinders the more frequent practice of this leading precept of the divine law, — fer- vently to lift up our souls unto God, and to have our conversation in heaven." His opin- ion was that a mixed life, or, as he beautiful- ly termed it, an angelical life, was the most excellent ; — a life spent between ascending to fetch blessings from above, and descend- ing to scaiter them among mortals. Would Christians retreat occasionally from the dizzy whirl and tumult of life, and give themselves time to think, they might become enamored of those beauties which lie above the natu- ral ken on the summit of God's holy moun- tain. Some of the prelates and fathers of the first ages had, according to his notions, hit the happy medium ; and, by mingling pastoral ministrations with devotional retire- ment, had earned a better meed than is due to the votaries of a severe and unprofitable solitude. Of the devotion which mingled with his own life, flowing easily from a wellspring of divine love in his soul, it would be hard to speak extravagantly. Prayer and praise were his business and his pleasure. His manner of praying was so earnest and importunate, as proved that his soul mounted up to God in the flame of his oral aspirations. Although none was ever less tainted with a mechani- cal spirit in religion, yet he denied that the use of written forms put to flight the power of devotion ; and he himself occasionally used them with an energy and feeling, by which his hearers were powerfully excited. To the Lord's prayer he was particularly partial, and said of it, Oh, the spirit of this prayer would make rare Christians !" Con- sidering prayer, fervent, frequent, interces- sory prayer, to be a capital part of the cleri- cal office, he would repeat with great appro- bation that apophthegm of a pious bishop — "■Necesse est, non ut mulium legamus, sed ut multum oremus'' This he accounted the vessel, with which alone living water can be drawn from the well of Divine mysteries. Without it, he thought, the application of the greatest human powers to theology would turn out a laborious vanity ; and in support of this opinion he adduced the confession of Erasmus, that, when he began to approach the verities of celestial wisdom, he thought he understood them pretty well ; but after much study of commentators, he was in- fmitely more perplexed than before. With what a holy emphasis would Leighton ex- claim, in commenting upon those words of David, ''Thou, 0 God, has taught me"— " Non homines, nec consueludoj nec industria rnea, sed iu d(icuisii." It is not, however, to be imagined that this great prelate, Avho was himself one of the most learned men of a very learned age, un- dervalued human erudition. On the con- trary, he greatly encouraged it in his clergy ; and has been heard to declare that there could not be too much, if it were but sancti- fied. But then he set far higher store by real piety ; and would remark, with a felici- tous introduction of a passage from Seneca, " Non opus est multis Uteris ad honam mentem, but to be established in grace and replenish- ed with the spirit." Pointing to his books one day, he said to his nephew, — "One de- vout thought is worth them all ;" meaning, no doubt, that no accumulation of knowl- edge is comparable in value with internal holiness. Of his delight in the inspired volume the amplest proof is afforded by his writings, which are a golden weft, thickly studded with precious stones from that mine, in beau- tiful arrangement. How would hj lament that most people, instead of feeding upon scriptural truths, instead of ruminating on them leisurely and prolonging the luxury as skilful epicures would do, rather swallowed them down whole like bitter pills, the taste of which is industriously disguised ! His French bible, now in the library of Dun- blane, is marked in numerous places ; and the blank leaves of it are filled with extracts made by his own pen from Jerome, Chrysos- tom, Gregory Nazianzen, and several other fathers. But the bible, which he had in daily use, gave yet stronger testimony to his intimate and delightful acquaintance with its contents. With the book of Psalms he was particularly conversant, and would some- times style it by an elegant application of a scriptural metaphor, " a bundle of myrrh, that ought to lie day and night in the bo- som."* " Scarce a line in that sacred psalter," writes his nephew, " that hath passed with- out the stroke of his pencil." To him the sabbath was a festive day ; and he would repair to God's house with a willing spirit when his body was infirm. One rainy Sunday, when through indisposi- tion he was hardly equal to going abroad, he still persisted in attending church, and said, in excuse for his apparent rashness, " Were the weather fair I would stay at home, but since it is foul I must go ; lest I be thought to countenance, by my example, the irreli- gious practice of letting trivial hinderances keep us back from public worship." Averse as he was to parade of all kinds, and especially to dizening out religion in modish draperies, yet he was not for shroud- ing her in a gloomy cowl, and exposing her to needless scorn, as he thought the quakers did, by dressing her with " a hood and bells." It way his wish to see public wor- ship so ordered as to exclude superfluous or- nament, while it preserved those sober de- cencies, which at once protect the majesty of religion, and help to keep awake a devout spirit in the worshipper. It may have appeared to some of my read- * Song of Solomon, chap. i. v, 13. S8 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. ers, that Leigliton's latitudinarian views on the subject of ecclesiastical polity border- ed upon the romantic, and were unsuitable to the present imperfect state of the Chris- tian church. But it is due to him not to for- get, that he was an inexorable enemy to lax- ity and disorder ; and maintained the neces- sity of a regular and exact administration of the church, although he was comparatively indi{ferent about the form of that adminis- tration, if it did but ensure a good supply for the religious wants of the people. " The mode of church government," he would say, " is immaterial ; but peace and concord, kind- ness and goodwill, are indispensable. But alas, I rarely find, in these days, men nerved with a holy resolution to contend for the sub- stance more than for the ceremony ; and dis- posed in weak and indifferent things to be weak and compliant." Among such things he classed those points of discipline, on which the dissenters stood out, declaring that *' he could not in earnest find them to amount to more." The religion of this pre-eminent saint was incorporated with the Avhole frame of his life and conversation. This gave a peculiar- ity, which was striking and impressive, to many of his ordinary actions. They were the same things which other men did, but xhey were done in another manner, and bore the shining print of his angelic spirit. So impressively was this the case, that his nephew, when a little child, struck with his reverential manner of returning thanks after a meal, observed to his mother, that " his uncle did not give thanks like other folk." It may be doubted whether Christianity, in the days of its youthful vigor, gave birth to a more finished pattern than Leighion of the love of holiness. It was truly his reign- ing passion ; and his longing to depart hence grew out of an intense desire to be transformed into the divine likeness. " To be content to stay always in this world," he observed, " is above the obedience of angels. Those holy spirits are employed according to the perfec- tion of their natures, and restlessness in hymns of praise is their only rest : but the utmost we poor mortals can attain to, is to lie awake in the dark, and a great piece of art and patience it is, spaliosam fallere noc- tem.''^ Often would he bewail the proneness of Christians to stop short of that perfection, the pursuit of which is enjoined upon us ; and it was his grief to observe, that even good men are content to be *' low and stunt- ed vines." The wish nearest his heart was, to attain to the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ ; and all his singularities, for such to our reproach they are, arose from this desire being in him so much more ardent than it is in ordinary Christians. In the sub- joined letter, this habit of mind, this insatia- ble longing after perfect holiness, is finely portrayed. It was written when he was principal of the University of Edinburgh. " Sir : Oh ! what a weariness is it to live among men, and find so few men ; and among Christians, and find so few Christians ; so much talk and so little action ; religion turned almost to a tune and air of words ; and amidst all our pretty discourses, pu- sillanimous and base, and so easily drag- ged into the mire, self and flesh and pride and passion domineering, while we speak of being in Christ and clothed with him, and believe it, because we speak it so often and so confidently. AVell, I know, you are not willing to be thus gulled ; and hav- ing some glances of the beauty of holiness, } aim no lower than perfection, which in the end we hope to attain ; and in the meanwhile the smallest advances toward it are inore worth than crowns and sceptres. I believe it, you often think on these words of the blessed champion Paul. (1 Cor. ix. 24, &c.) There is a noble guest within us. Oh ! let all our business be to entertain him honora- bly, and to live in celestial love within ; that will make all things without be very con- temptible in our eyes. I should rove on did not I stop myself, it falling out well too for that, to be hard upon the post-hours ere I thought of writing. Therefore, ' good night,' is all I add ; for whatever hour it comes to your hand, I believe you are as sensible as I that it is still night : but the comfort is, it draws nigh toward that bright morning that shall make amends. " Your weary fellow-pilgrim, -R. L." It would perhaps be inexpedient for every one to attain such habits of religious abstrac- tion, and to keep as much aloof from the world, as Leighton did in the period of his life we are now reviewing. Indeed, he him- self expressed his conviction, that a thor- ough practical belief of those things, which we all acknowledge to be true with respect to the eternal world, would hinder us from buying and selling, and interfere with the necessary business of life ; or, at least, would render it an intolerable drudgery." God is therefore indulgent to our state and condi- tion, in not letting in upon our minds, in gen- eral, more vivid views of futurity. Never- theless, it is of incalculable advantage to have before our eyes sorAe bright examples of saints who have outstripped their compet- itors, and have gained the summit of the hill, up which the train of feebler pilgrims is still painfully toiling. Such extraordinary proficients in the life and power of godlmess are the salt of the earth, to keep it from cor- ruption. They rebuke the slackness of those half-hearted home-sick mariners, who stand off and on, wistfully eying the shore from which they have reluctantly parted, instead of launching into the deep, and making sail for a better country. They prevent a scan- dalous depression of the standard of Chris- tian piety ; they animate the despondent to hope and perseverance ; and they exhibit, THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 39 with a demonstration which puts to shame ihe cavils of the skeptic, the superiority of Christian philosophy, in the formation of character, to the most elaborate systems of human ethics. Of the effectual eloquence of Leighton's great example, a striking instance is adduced in Mr. Edward Lightmaker's letter. The writer's father, after witnessing the holy and mortified life of this eminent saint, became sensible, that a man is in no safe condition for dying, unless he be striving after the highest degrees of piety. "If none shall go to heaven," he exclaimed, "but so holy a man as this, what will become of me ?" Un- der these impressions he very much with- drew from the world ; relinquished a profita- ble business, because of its dangerous entan- glements ; and made the care of his ultimate felicity his chief occupation. Such consequences might well be expect- ed to flow from an intimacy with Leighton, for his discourse breathed the spirit of heav- en. To no one, perhaps, do the exquisite lines of the Christian poet Cowper more ac- curately apply : — When one, that holds communion with the skies, Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings ; Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide. That tells us whence his treasures are supplied." He seldom discoursed on secular matters, without happily and naturally throwing in some spiritual reflections ; and it was his professed opinion, that nothing takes off more from the authority of ministers and the efii- j cacy of their message, than a custom of vain ' and frivolous conversation. Indeed, " he had brought himself into so composed a gravity," writes his first biographer, "that I never saw him laugh, and but seldom smile ; and he kept himself in such a constant recollection, that I do not remember that I ever heard him say one idle word. He seemed to be in a perpetual meditation." Although he was not at all given to sermonize, yet any little incident, that fell under his observation, would cause some pious sentiment to drop from him ; just as the slightest motion makes a brimful goblet run over. Meeting a blind beggar one day, he observed, " Methinks this poor sufferer cries out in iDchalf of the whole human race, as its representative ; and let what he so earnestly craves be given him, as readily as God bestows a cure on the spir- itually blind who ask it." — " It is extremely severe," said his sister to him, speaking of the season. "But thou, 0 God, hast made summer and winter," was his devout reply. Some one saying, " You have been to hear a sermon :" " I met a sermon," was his answer, " a sermon de facto, for I met a corpse ; and rightly and profitably are the funeral rites observed, when the living lay it to heart." Thus he endeavored to derive ' spiritual good out of every passing circum- stance, and to communicate good to others. In a soul so full of heaven there was little room for earthly attachments. Indeed, the whole tone of his discourse, and the constant tenor of his life, evinced his detachment, not ; only from pomps, and riches, and delicacies, but from what are usually esteemed to be common comforts and necessaries. To his judgment the middle condition of life best approved itself. " Better to be in the midst," were his words, " between the two pointed rocks of deep penury and high prosperity, than to be on the sharps of either." But his choice, to quote his own emphatic expression, was to choose nothing, and he left it to a better wisdom than his own to carve out his j earthly lot. " If we are born to worldly greatnesses, let us even take them, and en- deavor to make friends with them %^ho shall I stand us in good stead when we are put out of our stewardship : but to desire that our j journey should be by the troublesome and dangerous road of worldly prosperity, is a mighty folly." He was pleased with an in- genious similitude of Dr. Sale's, who com- pares the good things of this life to mush- rooms, which need so many precautions in eating, that wholly to w^aive the dish is the safest wisdom. To corporal indulgences none was ever more indifferent. Indeed he practised a rigor- ous abstemiousness, keeping three fasts in the week, and one of them always on the Sun- day ; not from a superstitious esteem of the bodily penance, but in order to make the soul light and active for the enjoyment of that sacred festival. His nephew thinks that he injured his health by excessive ab- stinence : but his own maxim was, " that little eating, and little speaking, do no one any harm ;" and he would say pleasantly when dinner was announced, " Well, since we are condemned to this, let us sit down." His notions of the moderation, which Chris- tians ought to exercise at the table, will be generally accounted extravagant. When his sister once invited him to eat of a particular dish, extolling it as very good, he declined it, saying, " What is it good for, but to please a wanton taste? One thing forborne is better than twenty things taken." "But," answered Mrs. Lightmaker, "why were these things bestowed upon us?" " To see," he rejoined, " how well we could for- bear them ;" and then added, " Shall I eat of this delicacy, while a poor man wants his dinner ?" He thought people in general much too expensive and curious in the prepa- ration of their meals, and wished this do- mestic profusion were turned into a channel of distribution to the poor. Everything be- yond the mere necessaries of life he termed the overflowings of a full cup, which ought not to run to waste, but descend into thb poor man's platter. The gratifications of bodily appetite would not, he was persuaded, 40 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. be so much reckoned on, if professed Chris- tians had more " spiritual sensuality," as he often termed that ardent relish, which is the characteristic of rectified souls, for the meat and drink, the hidden eaanna, of God's im- mortal banquet. He used to compare a man's station in life to an imprisonment, and observed, that, " al- though it is becoming to .keep the place of our confinement clean and neat, it were ill done to build upon it." His sister thinking he carried his indifference to earthly things too far, and that his munificence required some check, said to him once, "If you had a wife and children you must not act thus." His answer was, " I know not how ii would be, but I know how it should be. -Enoch walked with God ; — and begat sons and daughters.' " In truth, his liberality was boundless. All he received was distributed to the poor, ex- cept the bare pittance which his necessities imperiously demanded for himself. Unwil- ling, however, to gain any credit for benefi- cence, he commonly dispensed his bounty through the hands of others, as we learn from Burnet, who officiated as his almoner in London. In exemplification of his humane and amiable condescension to his friends and de- pendants, there is an anecdote, which will not disgrace our pages. He once had a Ro- man catholic servant, who made a point of abstaining from flesh on the fast days pre- scribed by the Romish calendar. Leighton, being apprized of this, by Mrs. Lightmaker, commented on the vanity of such scruples, yet requested her to indulge the poor man with such fare as suited his erroneous piety, lest the endeavor to dissuade him from the practice should drive him to falsehood or prevarication. " For to this," he added, many poor creatures are impelled, not so much "from a corrupt inclination, as for want of a handsome truth." So gentle was he in his construction of the faults and foibles of others. It is of little moment to ascertain, even were it possible, whether this be the identical man-servant, whose idle pranks have earned him a never-dying fame in Dunblane and its neighborhood. The following story may be taken as a sample of the provocations, with which this thoughtless fellow used to try his master's equanimity. Having a fancy one morning for the diversion of fishing, he lock- ed the door of the house, and carried ofi" the key, leaving his master imprisoned. He was loo much engrossed with his sport to think of returning till the evening, when the only admonition he received for his gross be- havior from the meek bishop, was, " John, when you next go a fishing, remember to leave the key in the door." The whole history of Leighton's life pro- claims his abhorrence of persecution. It is related that his sister once asked him, at the j request of a friend, what he thought was the mark of the Beast ; at the same lime adding, "I told the inquirer that you would certainly answer you could not tell.'' " Truly you said well," replied Leighton, but, i'f I mi^ht I fancy what it were, it would be somethmg with a pair of horns that pusheth his neigh- bor, and hath been so much seen and prac- I tised in church and state." He also passed a severe sentence on the Romanists, " who, in their zeal for making proselytes, fetched ladders from hell to scale heaven :" and he deeply lamented, that men of the reformed church should have given in to similar meas- ures. AVe have seen, in the narrative of his pub- lic conduct, how firmly he withstood the se- vere measures set afoot to produce a unifor- j mity of worship in Scotland. Sv%-ords and ; halberds, tongs and pincers, Avere very unfit instruments, in his esteem, for advancing the science and practice of religion. The scrip- ^ lure tells us, indeed, of plucking out a right eye for the preservation of the whole body ; but if that eye admit of a cure, it should ra- ther be preserved ; only let its cure be com- mitted to the dexterous hands of the kindest oculist, and not to a mere bungler, who would mar instead of healing. For himself he would suffer anything, rather than touch , a hair of the head of those, who labored un- ' der such pitiable maladies, as errors in faith ; must be accounted. Or, if did meddle with them, it should be with such a gentle touch, as would prove the friendliness of his dispo- sition and purpose." " I prefer," he has been heard to say, "an erroneous honest man be- fore the most orthodox knave in the world ; and I would rather convince a man that he has a soul to save, and induce him to live up to that belief, than bring him over to my : opinion in whatsoever else beside. Would ' to God that men were but as holy as they might be in the worst of forms nov/ among '. us ! Let us press them to be holy, and mis- j carry if they can." Being told of a person I who had changed his persuasion, all he said was, "Is he more meek ; more dead to ' the world ? If so, he has made a happy change." It is related of him, that going one day to visit a leading minister of the presbytery, he ^ found him discoursing to his company on the ' duties of a holy life. Leighton, instead of turning off to the subject of the current rea- \ sons for nonconiformity, though he had gone for the express purpose of discussing them, instantly fell in with the train of conversa- tion, and concluded his visit without attempt- , ing to change it. To some of his friends who remonstrated with him on this apparent ' oversight, " Nay," he replied, " the good I man and I were in the main agreed : and for I the points in which we difler, they are mostly I unimportant ; and though they be of mo- I ment, it is advisable before pressing any, to win as many volunteers as we can." THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 41 This feature of his character is further il- lustrated by an anecdote, which there is every reason to believe authentic. A friend calling upon him one day, and not meeting him at home, learned, on inquiry, that he was gone to visit a sick presbyterian minister on a horse which he had borrowed of the catholic priest. His sobriety of mind and soundness of Judgment ought not to be passed over in si- lence. These qualities were conspicuous in his never pretending to develop the secret things of God, notwithstanding the variety of his learning, and his talent for high specu- lation. Instead of hazarding a guess on a j condition, though, I confess, the unfittest of difficult point, to which he had been re- | all men to minister anything of spiritual re- quested to turn his thoughts, he said to the j lief to any person, either by prayer or advice inquirer, on meeting him some time after- j to you ; but he could have imparted such a ward, I have not yet got the lesson you set i thing to none of greater secrecy, and withal me." And to his nephew, who complained ! of greater sympathy and tender compassion that there was a certain text of scripture j toward such as are exercised with those kind and to lead them away from the love of truth and the practice of piety. How discreel and tender a counsellor he was to persons laboring under religious doubts and perplexities, the two following letters bear witness. The first of these is to a lady of quality to whom he was personally un- known, but who seems to have solicited his advice through the intervention of a common friend : — "Madam: Though I have not the honor to be acquainted with your ladyship, yet a friend of yours has acquainted me with your which he could not understand, his answer was, "And many more that I can not." In reverently standing aloof from those myste- ries of the divine nature and government, which are enshrined in a light no mortal eye can gaze upon undazzled, he discovered' a judgment equal to his modesty, and exem of conflicts ; as, having been formerly ac- quainted with the like myself, all sorts of skeptical and doubtful thoughts touching those great points, having not only passed through my head, but some of them have for sometime sat more fast and painfully upon my mind ; but in the name of the Lord they plified the saying of Solomon^ that " with | were at length quite dispelled and scattered. the lowly is wisdom." Being once interro- gated about the saints reigning with Christ, he tried to elude the question by merely re- plying, " If we suffer with him, we shall'also reign with him." Pressed, however, to give his opinion, whether or not the saints would exercise rule in the earth, although Christ should not in person assume the sovereignty, he answered with exquisite judgment, " If God hath appointed any such thing for us, he will give us heads to bear such liquor : our preferment shall not make us reel." Pry- And oh ! that I could love and bless Him, who is my deliverer and strength, my rock and fortress, where I have now found safety from these incursions ; and I am very confi- dent you shall shortly find the same ; only wait patiently on the Lord, and hope in him, for you shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance ; and it is that alone that can enlighten you, and clear your mind of all those fogs and mists that now possess it, and calm the storms that are raised within You do well to read good books that are ing into matters of this nature, which the I proper for your help, but rather the shortest spirit of God has apparently sealed up from ! and plaines't, than the more tedious and vol- man's inquisitiveness, was, in his estimation, ' uminous, that sometimes entangle a per- indecent and dangerous ; and he thought ' plexed mind yet more, by grasping many that passionate curiosity, which overleaps more questions, and answers, and arguments the boundaries of revelation, might be well rebuked by the angel's answer to Manoah, " Why askcst thou Urns after mv name, see- ing it is secret?" "Enough," he said, "is discovered to satisfy us, that righteousness than is needful : but above all still cleave to the incomparable spring of light and divine comfort, the Holy Scriptures, even in despite of all doubts concerning them. And when vou find vour thoughts in disorder and at a and judgment are within, although round | loss, entertain no dispute with them by any about his throne are clouds and darkness :" j means at that time, but rather divert'frorn and he blamed those, who boldly venture | them to short prayer, or to other thoughts, and sometimes to well chosen company, or the best you can have where you are ; and at some other time, when you find yourself, in a calmer and serener temper, and upon the vantage ground of a little more confidence in God, then you may resume your reasons against unbelief, yet so as to beware of cast- . . . I ing yourself into new disturbance. For when with these sound views, he always endeav- | your mind is in a sober temper, there is noth- ored, when principal of the university of , ing so suitable to its strongest reason, noth- Edinburgh, to repress such perilous inquiries ; ; ing so wise and noble as religion ; and to judging theni of a nature to make young stu- i believe it is so rational, that, as now I am deuts conceited, disputatious, and'skep'tical, 1 framed, I am afraid that my belief proceeds 6 into the very thick darkness and deepest re- cesses of the divine majesty." " That pros- pect of election and predestination," said he, " is a great abyss, into which I choose to sink, rather than attempt to sound it. And truly any attempt at throwing liijht upon it makes it only a greater abyss, and is a piece of blamable presumption.'" In conformitv 42 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. too much from reason, and is not so divine and spiritual as I would have it ; only when I find (as in some measure through the grace of God I do) that it hath some real virtue and influence upon my affections and track of life, I hope there is somewhat of a higher tincture in it. But, in point of reason I am well assured, that all that I have heard from the wittiest atheists and libertines in the world, is nothing but bold ravery and mad- ness, and their whole discourse a heap of folly and ridiculous nonsense. For what probable account can they give of the won- derful frame of the visible world, without the supposition of an eternal and infinite power and wisdom and goodness that formed it, and themselves, and all things in it ? And what can they think of the many thousands of martyrs in the first age of Christianity, that endured not simple death, but all the inventions of the most exquisite tortures, for their belief of that most holy faith, which, if the miracles that confirmed it, had not persuaded them so, they themselves had been thought the most prodigious miracles of madness in all the world? It is not want of reason on the side of religion that makes fools disbelieve it, but the interest of their brutish lusts and dissolute lives, makes them wish it were not true : and there is this vast difference betwixt you and them ; they would gladly believe less than they do, and you would also gladly believe more than they do : they are sometimes pained and torment- ed with apprehensions that the doctrine of religion is, or may be, true ; and you are per- plexed with suggestions to doubt of it, which are to you as unwilling and unwelcome, as these apprehensions of its truth are to them. Believe it, madam, these different thoughts of yours, are not yours, but his that inserts them, and throAvs them as fiery darts into your mind, and they shall assuredly be laid to his charge, and not to yours. Think you that Infinite Goodness is ready to take advan- tage of his poor creatures, and to reject and condemn those, that, against all the assaults made upon them, desire to keep their heart for him, and lo acknowledge him, and to love him, and live to him ? He made us, and knows our mould, and as a father pities his children pities them that fear him ; for he is their father, and the tenderest and kindest of all fathers ; and, as a father pities his child when it is sick, and in the rage and ravery of a fever, though it even utter reproachful words against himself, shall not our dearest Father both forgive and pity those thoughts in any child of his, that arise not from any wilful hatred of him, but are kindled in hell within them ? And no temptation hath be- fallen you in this, out that which has been incident to men, and to the best of men ; and their heavenly father hath not only for- given them, but in due time hath given them a happy issue out of them, and so he will assuredly do to you. In the meantime, when these assaults come thickest and vio- lentest upon you, throw yourself down at his footstool, and' say ; ' O God, Father of mer- cies, save me from this hell within me. 1 acknowledge, I adore, I bless thee, whose throne is in heaven, with thy blessed Son and crucified Jesus, and thy Holy Spirit, and also though thou slay me, yet will I trust in thee : but I can not think thou canst hate and reject a poor soul that desires to love thee, and cleave to thee, so long as I can hold by the skirts of thy garment until thou vio- lently shake me off, which I am confident thou wouldst not do, because thou art love and goodness itself, and thy mercies endure for ever.' Thus, or in what other frame your soul shall be carried to vent itself into his bosom, be assured, your words, yea, your silent sighs and breathings shall not be lost, but shall have a most powerful voice and ascend into his ear, and shall return to you with messages of peace and love in due time, and, in the meantime, with secret supports, that you faint not, nor sink in these deeps that threaten to swallow you up. But I have wearied you instead of refreshing you. I will add no more, but that the poor prayers of one of the unworthiest caitiffs in the world, such as they be, shall not be wanting on your behalf, and he begs a share in yours ; for neither you, nor any in the world, need that charity more than he does. Wait on the Lord, and be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart : wait, I say, on the Lord." The next is to some Christian friend, whose name is unknown : — " Christian Friend : Though I had very little vacant time for it, yet I would have seen you, if I could have presumed it might have been any way useful for the quieting of your mind. However, since I heard of your condition, I cease not daily, as I can, to present it to Him, who alone can effectu- ally speak peace to your heart ; and I am confident, in due time, will do so. It is he that stilleth the raging of the sea ; and by a word can turn the violentest storm into a great calm. What the particular thoughts or temptations are that disquiet you, I know not ; but whatsoever they are, look above them, and labor to fix your eye on that infi- nite goodness, which never faileth them, that, by naked faith, do absolutely rely and rest upon it, and patiently wait upon him, who hath pronounced them all, without ex- ception, blessed that do so. Say often within your own heart ; Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him ; and if, after some inter- vals, your troubled thoughts do return, check them still with the holy Psalmist's words ; Why art thou cast down, O my soul, &:c. If you can thoroughly sink yourself down, through your own nothingness, into Him who is all, and entirely renouncing your own will, THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 43 embrace that blest and holy will in all things, there I am sure you shall find that rest, which all your own distempers, and all the powers of darkness shall not be able to deprive you of. I incline not to multiply words ; and, indeed, other advice than this I have none to give you. The Lord of peace, by the sprink- ling of the blood of his Son Jesus, and the sweet breathings of the great Comforter, his own Holy Spirit, give you peace in himself. Amen." "vVe learn from Burnet, " that his thoughts were lively, oft out of the Avay and surpri- sing, yet just and genuine and several of his sayings might be adduced to justify this praise, and to show him well read in the science of human nature and its manage- ment. It was an aphorism of his, that " One half of the world lives upon the madness of the other." He well knew, writes his nephew, when it was expedient to be silent, and when it behooved him to speak — a know- ledge not less rare than valuable. One of his favorite axioms was, that ''All things operate according to the disposition of the subject ;" and he was of opinion, that the silence of a good man will sometimes convey a more effectual lesson than his discourse. Two things, he observed, are commonly re- quisite to make religious advice salutary, aamely, time and judgment ; and he thought the following maxim might often be remem- bered with RdYantage—philosophandum, sed paucis. Accordingly, he was quite against jading hearers with discourses beyond the measure of their understanding, or their pa- tience: "for 'tis belter," said he, "to send them home still hungry than surfeited." He was no advocate in general for crude and abrupt exposures of unpalatable truths. Be- ing told of an author, who had entitled his erformance," Naked truth whipt and stript," is remark was, " It might have been better to clothe it ;" and he saw nothing praise- worthy in the roughness, misnamed honesty, of some people, "who would rather over- turn the boat than trim it." I shall only add, in illustration of this point of his char- acter, a prayer which he used to offer up, which is pregnant with melancholy mean- ing : " Deliver me, O Lord, from the errors of wise men ; vea, and of good men." Of his humility, that grace so lovely in the eyes of Heaven, and which was truly his crowning grace, it would be difficult to 'take the dimensions. Burnet mentions that " he seemed to have the lowest thoughts of him- self possible, and to desire that all other persons should think as meanly of him, as he did of himself; .md he bore all sorts of ill usage and reproach, like a man that took pleasure in it." This character of his mind is finely illus- trated in the following passage from one of his letters. " And now I have begun, I would end just j here ; for I have nothing to say, nothing of affairs (to be sure) private nor public ; and to strike up to discourses of devotion, alas ! what is there to be said, but what you suffi- ciently know, and daily read, and daily think, and, I am confident, daily endeavor to do ? And I am beaten back, if I had a great mind to speak of such things, by the sense of so great deficiency, in doing those things that the most ignorant among Christians can not choose but know. Instead of all fine no- lions, I fly to Kvpie iXeriaov, XoicTt iXerjcr'):'. I think them the great heroes and excellent persons of the world, that attain to high de- grees of pure contemplation and divine love ; but next to those, them that in aspiring to that and in falling short of it, fall down into deep humility, and self-contempt, and a real desire to be despised and trampled on by all the world. And I believe that thej that sink lowest into that depth, stand nearest to ad- vancement to those other heights : for the great King who is the fountain of that honor, hath given us this character of himself, that He resists the proud and gives grace to the humble. Farewell, my dear friend, and be so charitable as sometimes in your addresses upward, to remember a poor caitiff, who no day forgets you. " 13th December, 1676. " R. L." On the eve of taking a bishopric, when he perceived how many obstacles there were to his doing the good he wished to others, " Yet one benefit at least," said he, " will arise from it ; I shall break that little idol of estimation my friends have for me, and which I have been so long sick of." Though he could not be ignorant of the value set on his pulpit dis- courses by the public, — for never was a wandering eye seen when he preached, but the whole congregration would often melt into tears before him,— yet the most urgent entreaties of his friends could never obtain from him the publication of a single sermon. Indeed, he looked upon himself as so ordinary a preacher, and so unlikely to do good, that he was always for giving up his place to other ministers ; and after he became a bishop, he always preferred preaching to small con- gregations, and would never give notice before- hand when he was to fill the pulpit. Of a piece with his rooted dislike to anything, that seemed to imply consequence in himself, was his strong objection to have his portrait taken. When it was requested of him, he testified unusual displeasure, and said, " If you will have my likeness, draw it with charcoal:" meaning, no doubt, that he was carbons notandus, as justly obnoxious to scorn and condemnation. His picture was, however, clandestinely taken when he was about the middle age : and as the engravings prefixed to his works are copied from it, it is a pleas- ure to know from such good authority as his nephew's letter, that it greatly resembled him. 44 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. Nature had endowed him with a warm and affectionate disposition, which was not extinguished by his superlative love to God, though it was always kept in due subordina- tion. In his commentary on the epistle of Peter he remarks, that "our only safest way is to gird up our affections wholly and he j lived up to this principle. Accordingly, after avowing once, how partial he was to the amiable character and fine accomplishments of a relation, he added, " Nevertheless I can readily wean myself from him, if I can not persuade him to become wise and good; Sine honitate nulla majestas^ nullos sapor.^^ To him, as to that Holy One of whose spirit he partook largely, whoever did the will of his j heavenly Father were more than natural | kindred. Such, therefore, of his relations as j were Christians indeed, had a double share \ of his tenderness ; and to the strength cf this j twofold bond, not less than to his heavenly- 1 mindedness, we may ascribe his exclamation on returning from the grave, in which his ■ brother-in-law had been interred: "Fain would I have thrown myself in with him." A beautiful extract from a letter, which he wrote to that gentleman on the death of a particu- larly sweet and promising child, to whom he himself was tenderly attached, may here find a suitable place. " T am glad of your health and recovery of your little ones ; but indeed it was a sharp stroke of a pen, that told me your pretty Johnny was dead : and I felt it truly more than, to my remembrance, I did the death of any child in my lifetime. Sweet thing, and ] is he so quickly laid to sleep ? Happy he I Though we shall have no more the pleasure of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no more the pain of crying, nor of being sick, nor of dying ; and hath wholly escaped the trou- ble of schooling, and all other sufferings of boys, and the riper and deeper griefs of riper years, this poor life being all along nothing but a linked chain of many sorrows and many deaths. Tell my dear sister she is now much more akin to the other world : and this will quickly be passed to us all. John is but gone an hour or two sooner to bed, as children use to do, and we are undressing to follow. And the more we put off the love of this present world and all things superfluous, beforehand, we shall have the less to do, when we lie down. It shall refresh me to hear from you at your leisure. " Sir, your affectionate brother, Edinbro', Jan. 16th.'' " R. Leightox. Lcighton was a great admirer of rural scenery ; and, in his rides upon the Sussex downs, he often descanted, with sublime fer- vor, on the marvellous works of the almighty Architect. Adverting to the boundless varie- ties of creation, he remarked, that there is no wonder after a strav;-, omnipotence being as necessary to make the least things out of nothing as the greatest. But his lofty mind seemed especially to delight in soaring to the celestial firmament, and expatiating through those stupendous vaults, from which so many glorious lamps are hung out, on purpose he believed to attract our thoughts to the glory that excelleth ; and " we miss the chief benefit they are meant lo render us, if we use them not to light us up to heaven." It was a long hand," he would exclaim, " and a strong hand too, that stretched out this stately canopy above us ; and to him whose work it is we may rightly ascribe most excellent majesty." Afrer some such expressions of devout amaze- ment, he would sink into silent and adoring contemplation. Leighton was fond of music both vocal and instrumental, and delighted in its appropria- tion to divine uses ; but he disapproved of its being made subservient to a refined sensuali- ty, and declared that he preferred the croaking of frogs to the idle songs, which professed Christians sing and play without blushing or compunction. He contrasted the harp and psalter}' of David, rehearsing the praises of the Lord, with the tabret and pipe, so loathed by Isaiah, because they were employed to inflame the passions and tickle the fancies of lewd wassailers, and to divert their thoughts from those operations of the Lord's hands, " which utter the most harmonious music." We have seen that his walk was direct to heaven, and the drift of his conversation habitually imearthly. He died daily by the mortification of his natural appetites and affections ; and he was visibly perfect in that frame of mind, which he wondered should not be universal, "in which every second thought is of death." It was not in a melancholy tone that he touched on this serious subject ; for the illusions spread over earthly things had long since faded away from his eyes, which were fixed in the sublime anticipations of faith on those blissful realities, that shall open upon the redeemed of the Lord, when they have shaken off mortality. To him, there- fore, death had lost its sting : it was become a pleasant theme ; and gave occasion to some of his most cheerful sayings. He would compare this heavy clod of clay, with which the soul is encumbered, to the miry boots, of which the traveller gladly divests himself on finishing his journey: and he could not dis- guise his own wish to be speedily unclothed, instead of lingering below till his garments were worn out and dropped off through age. In general, his temper was serene rather than gay ; but his nephew states, that if ever it rose to an unusual pitch of vivacity, it was when some illness attacked hmi: — when, "from the shaking of the prison doors, he was led to hope, that some of those brisk blasts would throw them open, and give him the release he coveted." Then he seemed to stand tiptoe on the margin of eternity, in a delightful amazement of spirit, eagerly await- ing the summons to depart, and feeding his soul with the prospect of immortal life and THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 45 giory. Sometimes, while contemplating his future resting-place, he would break out into that noble apostrophe of pious George Her- bert; " O let me roost and nestle there j Then of a sinner thou art rid, And I of hope and fear." Hearing once of the death of a portly man; "How is it," he exclaimed, " tliat A has broke through those goodly brick walls, while I am kept in by a bit of flimsy deal?" He would say pleasantly, that he had his nightcap on, and rejoiced that it was so near bedtime, or, rather, so near the hour of rising to one who had long lain awake in the dark ; and pointing to the children of the family, one evening, Avho were showing symptoms of weariness and importuning to be undressed ; '* Shall I," said he, " who am threescore and ten, be loath to go to bed ?" This world he considered a state of nonage, and the land of mature men a land very far off*. No apoph- thegm of inunspired wisdom pleased him more than that of Seneca : " Ilia dies, quam ui swpremam meluisses, fclernilatis natalis esty His alacrity to depart resulted from his earnest desire to " see and enjoy perfection in the perfect sense of it, which he could not do and live." " That consummation," he would say, "is truly a hope deferred; but, when it Cometh, it will be a tree of life." Perhaps, indeed, he would have been over-anxious to take wing, had not his impatience been balanced by profound submission to the divine good pleasure. This alone prevented an ex- cessive desire for the moment to arrive, when his soul, completely fledged, should spring into its proper element ; should remove far away, not only from the wickednesses of a profane world, but also from the childish- nesses of religious Christians ; and should be at rest amidst the truly reformed churches of just men made perfect, — those happy cir- cumferences, as he termed them, which are intimately and perfectly united to their sola- lious centre, and to each other. An extract from a letter, supposed to have been written a short time before his death, may here be aptly inserted. " I find daily more and more reason without me, and within me yet much more, to pant and long to be gone. I am grown exceeding uneasy in writing and speaking, yea almost in thinking, when I reflect how cloudy our clearest thoughts are : but, T think again what other can we do, till the day break and the shadowsflee away, as one that lieth awake in thenight must be thinking ; and one thought that will likely oftenest return, when by all other thoughts he finds little relief, is, when will it be day?'''' Yet Leigh ton, for the comfort of Aveak believers be it recorded, did not pretend to an absolute assurance of final salvation. Con- versing, one day, in his wonted strain of holy animation, of the blessedness of being fixed as a pillar in the heavenly Jerusalem to go no more out,* he was interrupted by a near relation exclaiming, "Ah, but you have assur- ance !" "No, truly," he replied, "only a good hope, and a great desire to see what they are doing on the other side, for of this world I am heartily weary." Such was the holy man, of whom little now remains to be told, except his dismissal from this troublesome scene to that place among The sanctities of heaven," which he had long preoccupied in aff'ection and spirit. After a retirement of five years, he was alarmed by receiving a letter in the king's own hand, which threatened him with an order to exchange his peaceful retreat for the distraction and turbulence of a public station. The letter ran as follows : — "Windsor, July 16, 1679. "My Lord: lam resolved to try what clem- ency can prevail upon such in Scotland, as will not conform to the government of the church there; for eff'ecting of which design, I desire that you may go down to Scotland with your first conveniency ; and take all possible pains for persuading all you can of both opinions to as much mutual correspon- dence and concord as can be : and send me from time to time characters both of men and things. In order to this design, I shall send a precept for two hundred pounds sterling upon my Exchequer, till you resolve how to serve me in a stated employment. " Your loving Friend, " Charles R. " For the Bishop of Dunblane.'''' It was sent at the urgent suit of the Duke of Monmouth, who then administered the aff"airs of Scotland, and who was anxious for Leighton to go back and reside in that coun- try, although he should not consent to resume his episcopal office. Leighten was willing to take this step, if any likelihood could be shown of benefit resulting from it ; but the duke's credit failing shortly afterward, this project seems to have fallen Avith it. In the year 1684, Leighton was earnestly requested by Burnet to go up to London, and to visit Lord Perth, who had begun to feel compunction for his lamentable departure from virtue, and had expressed an earnest desire to have the benctii of the bishop's counsel. The hope of reclaiming that unhappy noble- man prevailed over personal considerations, and he went up to London accordingly, healthy in appearance, but with feelings of illness, which may account for his presentiment that his dissolution was at hand. "The worse I am," said he in the plenitude of his self-deny- ing benevolence, " the more I choose to go, that I may give one pull at yon poor brother, and snatch him, if possible, from the infectious air of the court." Burnet had not seen him • Rev. iii. 12. 46 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. for a considerable time before, and was aston- ished at the freshness and vigor which ap- peared in him notwithstanding his advanced age. His hair was siill black, and his motions were lively ; and his devotion shone forth with the same lustre and vivacity as ever. On his friend, however, expressing great pleasure at seeing him look so hearty, Leighton observed, that for all that he was ver\^ near his end, and his work and journey both were now almost done. This answer made little im- pression on Burnet at the time ; but his mind reverted to it, after the event of three more days had stamped it with a prophetic em- phasis. The very next day he was attacked with an oppression on the chest, and with cold and stitches, which proved to be the commence- ment of a pleurisy. He sunk rapidly, for on the following day both speech and sense had left him ; and, after panting for about twelve hours, he expired without a struggle in the arms of Bishop Burnet, his intimate friend, his ardent and affectionate admirer. Nothing is recorded of his last hours : and indeed the disease that carried him off was such, by its nature and rapid progress, as to preclude much speaking. But no record is necessary of the dying moments of a man, who has served God from his infancy ; and whose path had been a shining light up to the moment when the shades of death closed over it. God was, assuredly, the strength of his heart in the hour of his last agony, and is now his glorious portion, his exceeding and eternal great reward. It was needless for himself that he should have notice of the bridegroom's coming: for his lamp was always trimmed, his loins were always girded. To his sur- viving friends it could have afforded little additional satisfaction, to have heard him express, on his death-bed, that faith and holy hope, of which his life had been one unbroken example : neither could he have left, for the benefit of posterity, any sayings more suit- able to a dying believer than those he daily ut- tered ; living, as he had long lived, on the con- fines of the eternal world, and in the highest frame of spirituality that it seems possible for an imbodied soul to attain. He entered into his rest, on the 25th of June, A. D. 1684, in the seventy-fourth year of his age. Two circumstances connected with his death ought not to be unnoticed. He had often said, that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn. In such a place he thought that a Christian believer might properly finish his pilgrimage ; the whole world being to him but a large and noisy inn, and he a wayfarer, tarrying in it as short a time as possible, and then hasting away to his Father's house. Besides, he considered it undesirable to be surrounded by weeping friends and officious domestics, whose sorrow- ful attentions might unnerve and distract the mind, when it ought to be wholly collected and set upon God ; whereas no such distur- bance of spirit would result from the uncon- cerned ministry of strangers. This singular wish was gratified, for he breathed his last in the Bell Inn, Warwick Lane. The other circumstance is this. While he resided on his diocess in Scotland, his for- bearance with his tenants was so great, that j at the time of his resignation considerable I sums were due to him. His subsequent in- ; come seems to have arisen principally from j these arrears, which dropped in slowly from I time to time ; and the last remittance that he had to expect was made about six weeks before his death, " so that," to adopt Bishop Burnet's happy phrase, " his provision and journey failed both at once." j His remains were conveyed to Horsted Keynes, the parish in which he had spent his concluding years, and were interred in an I ancient chancel* of the church, with no other I pomp to hallow his obsequies, than the un- bought attendance and inexpressive tears of the surrounding neighborhood. On his tomb- : stone is the following simple epitaph: — Depositum Roberti rb Leightounj Archiepiscopi Glasguensis Apud Scotas Qui objt XXV die Junij Anno Dmj 1684 -£tatis suffi 74. I I It would be impossible to hang more fra- \ grant garlands on his tomb, than are already j woven for it by Bishop Burnet. The first I shall produce, is from his preface to the life ; of Bishop Bedell. I "I shall not add much of the bishops that I have been in that church [of Scotland], since I the last re-establishment of the order ; but that I have observed among the few of them, to whom I had the honor to be known par- ticularly, as great and exemplary things as ever I met with in all ecclesiastical history ; not only the practice of the strictest of all the ancient canons, but a pitch of virtue and piety, beyond what can fall under common imita- tion, or be made the measure of even the most angelical rank of men ; and saw things in them that would look liker fair ideas, than what men clothed with flesh and blood could grow up to. But of this I will say no more, since those that are concerned are yet alive, and their character is too singular, not to w * In this chancel, which it has lately been found necessary to take down on account of its decayed stale, were some venerable tombs of the family at Broadhurst, who possessed the handsome old mansion of that name, and the patronage of the living. The whole is now transferred by purchase to another family. In the same chancel was the tomb of the archbishop's younger brother, Sir Ellis, who died only a few months before him, as appears from the inscription on his tombstone : — Here lyeth interred the Body of Sir Kllis Leighton, Knt., Who died 9th January 1684. i THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 47 make them to be as easily known, if I enlarged j fully denominated "the little bishop;'' and upon it as if I named them."* The next is from the " History of his own Time." " I bear still the greatest veneration for the memory of that man, that I do for any person ; and reckon my early knowledge of him, which happened the year after this [Leighton's promotion to a bishopric], and my long and intimate conversation with him, that con- tinued to his death, for twenty-three years, among the greatest blessings of my life ; and for which I know I must give account to God, in the great day, in a most particular manner." i one of the anecdotes inserted above, in which he contrasts himself with a corpulent person, denotes him to have been of a spare habit. To judge from his portrait, his countenance must have been a faithful interpreter of his mind : for it indicates sense in alliance with sanctity, sweetness dignified by strength, and vivacity shaded with pensiveness and tem- pered by devotion. Of his manners in private life we have no more exact information, than may be deducedfrom the foregoing narrative : but from this we may confidently pronounce, that in his general character ana deportment there was a happy union of dignity and My third and last quotation shall be from | meekness; and that in him the sterling in his '* Pastoral Care," in which, after siatinff that the matter of it had been the chief sub- ject of his thoughts for more than thirty years, he goes on as follows : — " I was formed to them by a bishop, that had the greatest elevation of soul, the largest compass of knowledge, the most mortified and most heavenly disposition, that I ever yet saw in mortal ; that had the greatest parts, as well as virtues, with the perfectest humili- ty, that I ever saw in man ; and had a sub- lime strain in preaching, with so grave a gesture, and such a majesty, both of thought, of language, and of pronunciation, that I never once saw a wandering eye where he preached ; and have seen whole assemblies often melt in tears before him ; and of whom I can say with great truth, that in a free and frequent con- versation with him, for above two-and-twenty years, I never knew him say an idle word, that had not a direct tendency to edification: and I never once saw him in any other tem- per, but that which I wished to be in, in the last moments of my life. For that pattern, which I saw in him, and for thai conversa- tion, which I had with hira, I know how much I have to answer to God : and though my reflecting on that which I knew in him, gives me just cause of being deeply humbltd in myself, and before God ; yet I feel no more sensible pleasure in anything than in going over in my thoughts all I saw and observed in him." Leighton was small of stature, as mav be tegrity of the Christian was refined, without being impaired, by secular accomplishments. Indeed, religion combining so largely ?s it did in Leighton, with a happy nature improved by travel, by multifarious and elegant learn- ing, and by familiar intercourse with the politest men of the age, could not fail of form- ing a gentleman of a higher cast, than worldly education alone can model. It only remains to offer some remarks on the intellectual character and attainments of Archbishop Leighton, on his genius as a wri- ter, and on the style of his compositions. With respect to his mental qualities, it may be safely affirmed by the most scrupu- lous encomiast, that he was gifted vrith a ca- pacious mind, a quick apprehension, a reten- tive memory, a lively fancy, a correct taste, a sound and discriminating judgmen'. All these excellences are conspicuous in almost every page of his writings : for in Leighton's compositions there is an extraordinary even- ness. One is not recruited here and there, hy a striking thought or a brilliant sentence, from the fatigue of toiling through many a heav}' paragraph, but one spirit in them rules ;" and while he occasionally mounts to a surpassing height, he seldom or never sinks into flatness. The reason is, that he is al- ways master of his subject, with a clear con- ception of his own meaning and purpose, and a perfect command of all the subsidiary ma- terials ; and still more, that his soul is al- inferred from some letters of Dr. Fallf to a ways teeming with those divine inspirations, friend, in which he is more than once play- 1 which seem vouchsafed only from time to * The Life of Bishop Bedell was published in the time to ordinary mortals. Had the mind of Leighton been less exact year ip, and to the passage above cited is subjoined land perspicacious, the rapid and multiludi- the folio winsr note, which confirms, if confirmation be I a ri.- -a iiu j j needed, its applicaUon to Archbishop Leighton: -The i ?ous flow of his ideas would have rendered worthy person here meant is dead since this was put in the press ; but both his name and a more par ! him a writer of more than common obscurity ; ticular account of him, as it well deserves a book by ' of the College of Glasgow, from which situation he itself, so will perhaps be given on another occasion." j was removed, soon after the Revolution, on declining t Dr. Fall appears first in the family of Craig Hall ' to take the oaths. In 1671 he sends his friend Wylie (Sir Thomas Hope's), as governor, it would seem, ; a translation from the Italian of the account of " The tea Mr. Hope, whom he accompanied to the con- ^ last Conclave ;" and he is supposed to be the translator tinent. He was afterward abroad, in the same | of Mascardi's History of Count Fleschi's Rebellion, capacity, with the sons of the Marquis of Queens- about the year 1670. He was evidently a great berry, Lord Treasurer, through whose patronage he admirer of Leighton, wrote a Latin preface to the was appointed, about the year 16S2 or 16S3, to be first edition of the Praelectiones and Partrneses, and King's Historiographer, with a salary of 40/. sterling, took a lively interest in the publication of the Com- On the 29th Sepcember, 1684, he was chosen Principal mentary on' the first Epistle of Peter. 48 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. for he was impatient of those rules of art hy which theological composilions are usually confined. No man, indeed, was better ac- quainted with scholastic canons and dialecti- cal artifices ; but he towered above them. At the same time his argument never limps, although the form be not syllogistic, the cor- rectness of his mind preventing material de- viation from a lucid and consecutive order. There is a logical continuity of thought to be traced in his writings ; and his ideas, per- haps, may not be unaptly compared to flow- ers in a garden, so luxuriantly overhanging trellises, as to obviate the primness and for- mality of straight lines, without however straying into a wanlonness cf confusion, that would perplex the observer's eye. It is not to be denied, that a more scien- tific arrangement in Leighton's compositions would have greaily assisted the memory of his readers : and let those who come short of him in intellectual power, beware of imi- tating his laxity of method. The rules of art, though cramps to vigor, are crutches to feebleness. My impression is, however, that the effusions of our auihor's mind, disposed more artificially, would have lost in richness what they gained in precision, and the gain would have been overbalanced by the loss. From the structure and flow of his discourses, I should conjecture it to have been his cus- tom, when he had determined to write on any subject, to ruminate on it till his mind had assumed a corresponding form and tone ; after which he poured forth his conceptions on paper without pause or eflfort, like the ir- repressible droppings of the loaded honey- comb. So imbued was his holy soul with the principles of the gospel, or so completely, I might better say, was the whole scheme of revelation amalgamated in the menstruum of his powerful intellect, that whatever he wrote on sacred subjects came forth with an easy flow, clear, serene, and limpid. In all his compositions there is a delightful consist- ency : nothing indigested and furbid : no dissonances of thought, no jarring positions ; none of the fluctuations, ihe ambiguities, the contradictions which betray a penury of knowl- edge, or an imperfect assimilation cf it with the understanding. Equally master of every part of the evangelical system, he never steps out of his way to avoid what encoun- ters him, or to pick up what is not obvious : he never betakes himself to the covers of un- fairness or ignorance ; but he unfolds, with the utmost intrepidity and clearness, the topic that comes before him. Moreover, it not a little enhances the value of his writings, that he is fully aware how far the legitimate range of human inquiry extends, and what is the boundary Divine wisdom hath afliixed toman's inquisi'tiveness. While the half-learned theologian beats about in the dark, and vainly attempts a passage through metaphysical labyrinths, which it is the part of sober wisdom not to enter, the sagacious Leighton distinctly sees the line, beyond which speculation is folly: and in stopping ai that limit he displays a prcmpt- ; ness of decision, commensurate with his un- 1 wavering certainty in proceeding up to it. I Such a writer as Leighton was incapable of parade. He was toolntent upon his sub- ject to be choice of words and phrases, and his works discover a noble carelessness of ■ diction, which in some respects enhances i their beauty. Their strength is not wasted by excessive polishing : their glow is not im- paired by reiterated touches. But, thouirh he \ was little curious in culling words and com- : pounding sentences, his language is generally ' apt and significant, sufificientfor the grandeur i of his conceptions, without encumbering I them. If not always grammatically correct, it is better than mere correctness would make I it ; more forcible and touching ; attracting I little notice to itself, but leaving the reader • to the full impulse of those ideas of which it is the vehicle. Leighton is great by the magnificence of thought : by the spontaneous I emanations of a mind replete with sacred j knowledge, and bursting with seraphic aff"ec- I tions ; by what pauseless gush of intellectual ! splendor, in which the outward shell, the in- ' termediate letter, is eclipsed and almost anni* hilated, that full scope may be given to thf j mighty eflTulgence of the informing spirit, j Dr. Doddridge applies to his eloquence the I description given by the great epic poet of the ' oratory of Ulysses — I But in this, he seems to have misconceived ! the meaning of Homer, who compares the I thronging words and forcible elocution of the ! Grecian hero to a storm of pelting rain and driving sleet, and not to flakes of snow de- scending in rapid but gentle succession, i A sweet and mellow pathos is certainly the characteristic of his style : but there is nothing in it languid and effeminate. While the ! suavity of his spirit flavors all his productions, ; the strength of his well-informed and mascu- , line understanding makes them abmidantly I solid and nutritious. He is not like a pulpy I reed, distilling luscious juices ; he is a rock j jiouriJLg forth rivers of oil. i Leighton never aflects a concise senten- I tiousness. He is perfectly free from that I trick of antithesis, which hit the vicious taste \ of the day ; or was tolerated under the plea j that a sentiment would be more securely I lodged in the memory, if the sentence which I conveyed it were armed with an epigrammatic I point.' But his copiousness does not consist in a vain prodigality of words. It is the re- dundance of a lull mind, venting itself that it may be refreshed, and not of a perplexed mind, painfully disembarrassing itself by endless explanations. He is not the literary me- chanic, who sets himself to spin out a scanty material into a vast expanse of web, or to hammer out a pretty ingot into an immense THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. surface ; but his diffuseness, or rather pro- fuseness, proceeds from the large stores he has amassed ; from the broad survey of his commanding intellect ; and from that acute- ness which at once resolves into its element- ary truths a complex proposition, and tracks a remote consequence to its principle through all its gradations. It may be safely affirmed, that there are not many theological writers, in whose volumes are more of " the seeds of things." Perhaps he is less entitled than some of his great contemporaries to the praise of being an original thinker : yet the thoughts of others become so identified in him with whatever it is that constitutes the intellectual individuality of a writer, as to issue from his mind with a new cast, bearing his own pecu- liar stamp and superscription. Attentive students of his works will be repaid by an abundance of excellent matter ; and will never perceive symptoms of the knowledge and vigor of the writer being nearly run out. In fact, he is never exhausted, till he has ex- hausted the subject ; and this he makes no effort to accomplish, but he stops the exuda- tion of his flowing mind, when enough has been produced, lest he deluge instead of irrigating. To his perfect freedom from the vanity of authorship it may partly be ascribed, that with all his knowledge and fertility of inven- tion, Leighton is never betrayed into weari- some and subtle details. There is in him no pueriie ambition of dissecting a principle into itsminutest ramifications, when such elaborate precision would serve no higher end than to display the skill of the artist. Relays down the fundanientals of Christian faith and prac- tice, with just enough of individual applica- tion to give them weight and clearness, and then leaves them to take root and fructify in the bosoms of those whom he addresses. Neither can it have escaped the observa- tion of one at all conversant with his writings, that it is never the purpose of his mind^to make good any particular system of divinity, nor to fortify its weak positions, and set off its strong proofs and advantages. He is con- stantly aiming at higher matters ; and shakes off with disdain the servile fetters, which would shackle the free and generous spirit of religion. Brought up in the school of rigid Calvinism, he adhered, in the judgment 'of his maturer years, to the tenets of the French reformer, divested however of their rigor. To say that he coincided, for the most part, with Calvin in the interpretation of scripture would be correct ; but it would be most in- correct to denominate him a Calvinist, if that appellation imply an assent to a particular scheme of theology, on the authoritv of that famous divine. Leighton, though the hum- blest of mankind, was noi weakly distrustful of his own powers ; and therefore we never find him slavishly treadinsf in the footsteps of predecessors. Yet, though free and indepen- dent, he is not audacious and dogmatical. His manner of handling the profound mystery of predestination reads an excellent lesson to those precipitate sciolists, who make an un- qualified affirmation of that mystery, in the high Calvinistic sense, to be the test of ortho- doxy, and, one might almost add, the passport to salvation ; — who contrive to interweave it with every sermon and treatise ; — and who, instead of building on it sublime ideas of the majesty and goodness of God, and deducing from it powerful motives to humility and holiness, so treat it as to weaken the force of moral and religious obligation on the mind, and to disparage the awful sanctity of the supreme and impartial governor of mankind. It is one of our author's excellences, that he assigns to the several parts of the system of Redemption their relative rank and impor- tance. In unfolding the dignity of Christ, the glory of his person, and the satisfactory virtue of his death, no one can exceed him ir. scrip- tural orthodoxy and devotional feeling. Yet with him the atonement is not of such en- grossing magnitude, as to overshadow the chief ends for which a piacular sacrifice was appointed : but its incalculable value, in re- spect to mankind, is shown to arise from its being the foundation on which the spiritual temple of God is to be rebuilt. To open a way for the return of the Holy Spirit to the world, is the grand scope and aim of the mediatorial covenant as prominently exhibited by Leighton ; and its ultimate glory is shown to result from the renovation of sinners to righteousness, of which the death of Jesus Christ is in its meritorious consequence effec- tive, by appeasing the judicial resentment of heaven, and cancelling the offender's obliga- tion to punishment. The points, indeed, on which his soul was constantly fixed, whence accrues such a heav- enly grandeur to all his discourses, were the noble vocation of a Christian, and the height to which a regenerate soul ought to rise above sublunary objects; the nearness of death; the mysterious vastness of the Godhead ; the stupendous concerns of eternity ; and the blessedness resulting from close communion with the Father of Spirits, and from conformi- ty to the pattern which Jesus Christ bequeath- ed to his followers, of consummate purity and virtue. When Leighton addresses himself to these matters, he does indeed utter his voice from high places : and impresses us with the idea of a man, who from an eminence beyond the region of fogs and clouds and meteors, has surveyed whatever is above and beneath, things in heaven and things upon the earth, with a vast advantage for rating justly the value of the one and of the other. He seems to have lately come down from conversing with God upon the mount, anoint- ed and pre-eminently qualified to represent the high priest of the Christian temple ; to draw aside the outward veil, and to disclose the glorious spirit of religion in its innermost sanctuary. 50 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. Ii is impossible to dip into his writings, without olserving with how brilliant a fancy he was endowed. They sparkle with beauti- ful images, which either are drawn from the magazines of scripture ; or are such as would naturally present themselves to an inventive and elegant mind, furnished, as Leighton's was, with the literary products of every clime and age, and with the accumulated stores of civil and ecclesiastical erudition ; and intent upon making whatever it has collected sub- servient to the illustration of divine truth. By bis holy skill sacred learning is made to purify profane, and profane learning to eluci- date and embellish sacred. The gold and silver of Egypt are moulded into vessels for the tabernacle of Jehovah; while the living waters of the sanctuary are taught to meander through fieldsof classic lore, impartingto their produce celestial fragrancy and virtue. Among the just commendations of this great and good man's writings, we must not omit their extraordinary decency, resulting, no doubt, from singular purity of mind, and the more worthy of note from its being foreign to the school in which he had been educated. No coarse, indelicate metaphor, the offspring of a gross imagination, ever sullies his pages ; and if it fall in his way to handle subjects which bring into view the grosser passions and appetites, of our nature, he spreads over their unseemliness such a veil of chastity, that nothing appears to draw a frown from the austerest gravity, or to put the most suscep- tible modesty to the blush. Archbishop Leighton will hardly rank in the foremost line of philologists and theologi- cal critics. Yet, in general, he is a safe guide in the exposition of particular texts ; and if sometimes he mistake the precise sense of the passage he discusses, still his improve- ment of it is so orthodox and pious, that one might be tempted to think that it is better to err with Leighton than to go right with the rest of mankind. He had carefully perused the original text of both the Old and the New Testament; and by a sober application of etymological analysis, he frequently throws light on obscure sentences of the sacred volume. From the Fathers also, of whom he was a diligent, student, as the pen-marked copies of their works in his library testify, he drew many beautiful sentiments, which are interspersed in his own lucubrations ; the whole of which have a strong savor of primi- tive spirituality. But that which adds so peculiar a zest to his compositions, is the quality usually denominated Unction. His mouth spake out of the abundance of his heart. Instead of a dry didactic statement, which, how faultless soever in doctrine and form, will seldom beget sympathy, we have in him the libation upon the sacrifice, — the holy affections of his soul poured out on the solid products of his understanding, and im- parting to them a delicious odor and irresisti- ble penetrancy. In every page of his books there is an impassioned earnestness, a soul- subduing pathos, which make it impossible to doubt, that the impressions he strives to communicate are deeply engraven on his spirit. Indeed he does not seem so much to appeal to his readers, as unconsciously to let them into the chamber of his own soul, on which they may see the gospel traced in its native lineaments ; and may recognise the loveliness of divine truth in the most perfect union, of which it is capable, with the heart and understanding of a frail and fallible mor- tal. Some allusion has been dropped in this me- moir to his excellence in the pulpit. Burnet, in eulogizing his preaching, pronounces it " rather too fine ;" and it did undoubtedly soar above the flight of ordinary minds, or it might rather be said of minds not elevated by habits of divine contemplation. It was surprisingly free from the quaint and sectarian jargon of the day, as will be seen by compar- ing his printed discourses with those precious morsels, which are embalmed in a work, that came out shortly after the Revolution, and is entitled " Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence Displayed." In the sermons of Leighton there is nothing puerile, low, or ludicrous ; no fantastic conceits and impertinent pleas- antries ; no wild interpretations of scripture and bombastic rhapsodies ; no desultory and pedantic excursions. He scorned to set off his matter, or scrupled to profane it, with a tawdry dress and garish colors. His phrase- ology, at once sedate and noble, well becomes the ambassador of heaven ; and denotes a profound veneration for the oracles of God, a pious dread of distorting their sense, and giving a human figure and color to any por- tion of revelation, and an ardent desire to convert thoughtless sinners, and to edify serious believers. Such were his matter and diction, with which his manner in the pulpit comported. Superior to popular applause, he had no peculiarities about his delivery ; unless indeed simplicity, earnestness, and gravity, were at that time uncommon qualities. He never aimed at effect by oratorical grimace, nor strove, as was much the practice, to carry his hearers by a tempest of voice and gesture ; and indeed the natural feebleness of his voice would have interdicted such exertions, had his taste permitted them. But, when he preached, the manner was in admirable har- mony with the message ; and so well did the majesty and beauty of his enunciation accord with the solemn truths of which he was the herald, that the congregations he addressed were subdued and enchained, as if by the magic of an unearthy eloquence. The work, which is the crown of his pos- thumous glory in the universal church, is the Commentary on the First Epistle of St. Pe- ter. It is a treasury of sound experimental divinity ; and argues an extraordinary ripe- ness 01 Christian attainments. It was prob- THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 51 ably delivered from the pulpit, and is drawn out' in the familiar form of exposition : the clauses, and someiimes the emphatic words, of each text being ordinarily explained in course, and no artificial arrangement observed in discussing the several subjects introduced by the apostle. Still, the general scope and coherence of each passage are carefully kept in view ; and the main truth, asserted or proved, is never lost sight of, in unfolding the particular propositions from which it is educed. This work will always class among the first of uninspired scriptures ; and can never cease to constitute the admiration and delight of the Christian and the scholar. Hinc lucem haurire est, et pocula sacra. Next in wonh to this commentary'' are his expositions of " The Creed," " The Lord's Prayer," and " The Ten Commandments :" which seem to have been carefully pondered, and are of equal account as summaries of exegetical and of practical divinity. The fragment of a commentary not long brought to light, on the first eight chapters and part of the ninth of St. Matthew's gospel, has touches of his fine genius, and is imbued with his heavenly spirit : but ii is decidedly inferior to that on the first epistle of Peter. It consists of little more than notes, with which he probably assisted his memory in preaching to rustic auditories, and wherein . he contracts the natural size of his intellect to the puny proportions of babes. His medi- tations critical and practical on Psalms iv., xxxii.. and cxxx., translated from the origi- nal Latin under the inspection of Dr. Dod- dridge ; and his Expository lectures on Psalm xxxix., and on one or two other portions of Scripture, have the flavor of the parent soil, but demand no particular comment. Thev are sketches only, but, like the line of the painter, they betray a master-hand. The meditations, which were spoken in Latin to the Edinburgh collegians, are felicitous es- says, glistening with holy animation, and are more classically adorned than the expository : lectures : not, however, in a degree to unfit , them for the closet of unlettered devotion. \ On his Rules and Instructions for a Holy Life, which are comprised in a few pages, some strictures are necessary. It is impossi- ' ble to read them without conceiving a great ' opinion of the sanctity of the mind from 1 which they issued. They are the rules by which his own life were fashioned, and do not, I believe, delineate a perfection much exceeding his actual attainments. Yet they need to be read with caution, being some- what tinged with mysticism — a disease al- most peculiar to those who inhabit the high- est regions, and breathe the purest atmo- sphere of devotion. The religion of this ' manual is doubtless the religion of the Bible ; but then it is pushed into abstractions, in the pursuit of which an ordinary mind would be embarrassed and utterly discouraged ; — ab- stractions which go beyond what the method of Christ and his apostles authorizes, or is compatible with the constitution of our na- ture, and the frame of society resulting from that constitution, It is one incomparable ex- cellence of this religion of Jesus Christ, that it does not stand aloof, and call those who would embrace it into wilds and solitudes ; but it enters our habitations, eating and drink- ing, in the form and with the affections of our nature ; it mingles its pure and peace- ful and benignant influences with all the va- rious commerce of life ; and it converts man to holiness, without displacing him from his proper sphere, or disturbing any of those re- lations which arise out of his civil and do- mestic condition. Leighton has not in these particulars followed so closely, as might have been wished, in the track of the great Au- thor of Christianity. Perhaps it is the ex- clusive prerogative of a wisdom, calm and comprehensive as God's, to exhibit a system, which shall raise debased man to the highest perfection of which he is capable, without de- ranging the order and economy of the pres- ent world. When good men, even with the Bible before them, set themselves to draw out rules for the conduct of the soul, they are apt to overstep the simplicity and wise re- serve of scripture ; and, by too minute and per- emptory an application of principles, which the blessed Jesus, with exemplary tender- ness and prudence, left it to each individual to apply, they often bring a snare upon the conscience, relax altogether the tottering knees, and lead ardent or melancholy spirits into dangerous subtleties. I must own my- self suspicious of the consequences of en- hancing upon Scripture, and of constructing a model, which at first sight strikes the eye, as being something more lofty and spiritual than is set forth in the sacred records. To aim at gratuitous refinements in spirituality requires the control of a very sober judgment and a deep humility, to prevent its being in- jurious to sound religious practice ; for there is danger of the substance of Christian piety flying ofi" under too intense a process of subli- mation. When men, instead of diligently forming themselves to that plain and palpa- ble goodness, which it is the drift of the gos- pel to inculcate, aspire to something super- human and angelical, there is reason to fear lest they rest satisfied with the attempt, though it be unprosperous. Conscience will not approach them for failing in those extra- ordinary efforts, which few have the courage to make, as it would if they came short of the ordmary proficiency of Christians ; and, possibly, in striving to sustain themselves in re§'ions too rare for haman piety, and in cha- sing a chimerical perfection, they may waste that energy which, more humbly directed, would have made them approved of God and useful to mankind. When Christians attain, indeed, to this height of holiness, they be- come transcendent luminaries, peerless stars of the morning, who invigorate and gladden 52 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTC.N. that lower body of the church, round which they revolve in their superior orbit. Be it far from me and from any Christian to depreciate such aims and such attainments. For our author's vindication it is fully sufficient, that the Directory* in question exhibits the scope of his own divine ambition, and not the stand- ard by which he measured others. A ma- ture and intelligent Christian may at any time read it with advantage ; and to those who are satisfied with a religion of form and cere- mony it may also be serviceable, by acquaint- ing them with the tremendous secret, that they are strangers to the reality and power of godliness. But it would be unwise and un- safe to place it in the hands of novices, sin- cere but feeble converts, lest they should be utterly disheartened, and their pious aspira- tions be smothered in despair. Whoever is conversant with the " Imitation of Jesus Christ," that beautiful manual of devotion, which is popularly ascribed to Thomas a Kempis, will recognise, in the " Rules and Instructions for a Holy Life," much of the same spirit, and the same extreme ideas of self-exinanition and total absorption in G-od. Of both it must be confessed — as Pope Inno- cent XII. observed of Fenelon, to whom Leighton bore no slight resemblance in the qualities of the mind and heart — that if they erred, it was through an exuberant love of God, excessu amoris Dei. It was the vehe- mence of iheir piety which hurried away their judgment ; and the uncommon mistake of stating Christian perfection too high is be- yond all dispute less momentous, than the usual error of sinking it below the scriptural standard. In the Latin Prelections, which have been translated by Dr. P'all, the principal doctrines of the Christian faith are developed by our Author with exquisite learning, judgment, and piety. These lectures constitute a valu- able series of theological instructions ; and were probably delivered pretty much in the order in which they are now arranged. After showing that happiness, of which so strong a desire is implanted in the human breast, is not to be drawn from earthly fountains, he proves that an immortal nature must fetch its joys from immortal sources. Hence he is led to treat of the existence, the nature, the government of God, which he does with equal energy and sobriety ; demonstrating the title such a Being possesses to the affec- tionate allegiance of his rational creatures, whose felicity must depend on their main- taining that place in the moral system of the universe, wherein the wise economy of the Creator hath fixed them. He then represents the extensive ruin that ensued from the de- fection of Adam ; and goes on to the repara- • It ought perhaps to be mentioned that the genu- ineness of this Directory has been suspected : but I would venture to suggest that the impress it bears of the spirit and style of Leighton demonstrably at- tests Its legitimacy, tion achieved by Messiah, of the injury done to God by the primal sin, and of the destruc- tion it brought upon mankind. The nature of Christian salvation is further developed, as consisting in the engrafting of viial and immortal principles in the soul by the myste- rious energy of the Holy Spirit ; which pro- cess constitutes the true adoption of sinners through the Savior, and is their temporal in- itiation to the enjoyment of life eternal. Moreover he expatiates, v/ith great beauty and emphasis, on the happiness of a life regulated by the fear of God and by the rules of the gospel ; and he exhorts the students to put forth all their ardor in prosecuting that divine science, which lays open the passage to imperishable glory. The style of these lectures justifies Bur- net's commendation of our Author's latinity. Not formed upon any one particular pattern, but pure, simple, and flowing, his diction in- dicates a large and critical acquaintance with the best model. It is the phraseology of a man who thought in Latin, and not of one who clothed in a foreign dress ideas which were pre-conceived in his native tongue. Hence these dissertations are not mere jingle and glitter, but are solid and argumentative. Useless words and phrases are never in- troduced to embellish a period ; nor does an apt thought ever seem to be abandoned too soon, or imperfectly evolved, from the writer being at a difficulty how to imbody it in a strange language. He moves in Roman ar- mor with as little embarrassment as in a na- tive garb. In these lectures, moreover, which were addressed to literary students, Leighton permits himself to quote largely from hea- then authors ; and one is struck with amaze- ment at the extent of his erudition, which is not ostentatiously exposed, but comes in most appropriately wherever it can avail to throw light upon the subjects he is treating. The whole volume of profane literature seems to be unrolled before him, and is not too expanded for his ample survey. The philosophers, the poets, the historians of Rome and Athens ; all the sons of science, whether Jews or Gentiles, ancient or mod- ern ; all are cited to pay the various homage, enjoined by natural reason or primeval tra- dition, to the being, the perfections, the nat- ural and moral government of God ; and to confirm the need of a revelation, which should capacitate mankind to recover, under a new grant and tide, the honors, possessions, and immunities forfeited by disobedience. The ParjEneses were short exhortations to the scholars about to graduate, and were composed in Latin. In them it is the speak- er's great endeavor to guard his auditors against an overweening estimate of human learning and literary honors, and to incite them to strive after that genuine theosophy, which consists in a knowledge of God as he reveals himself to mankind in the Gospel, Each of these hortatory addresses concludes THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 53 with a beautiful and appropriate prayer ; and they, as well as the lectures, breathe an af- fectionate desire to turn the hearts of the collegians from that vain knowledge which increaseth sorrow, to that true and heavenly wisdom by which all who possess it are ex- alted to honor. Dr. Fall, and not Bishop Burnet, as has been erroneously asserted, vras the original editor of Leighton's works. The first of them which saw the light, was a volume of eighteen sermons, printed in London, 1692, expressly stated to be copied " from his pa- pers written w^iih his own hand." It is ac- companied with a preface by the Editor, of which the following is an extract : " To the pious and devout reader. The Discourses, here published, are but a small taste of a great many more, that were written by the same most reverend author. A judgment will be made from the reception these meet with, concerning the publishing other dis- courses by the same pen. His composures in Latin (which appear to have been written and delivered when he was principal of the College of Edinburgh) are also transcribing for the press, and may in a convenient time see the light, for they need not fear ii." Accordingly, in 1693, his Praelectiones Theo- logicae came out in quarto, with a preface in the same language, by Dr. Fall, printed in London. The next portion of his works, produced to the public, seems to have been the "Commentary on Peter," Vol. I.,4to. York, 1693. In an advertisement prefixed to this volume, Dr. Fall alludes to the favor- able reception of his former works. The second volume of this Commentary was pub- lished, London, 1694 ; and in the preface, Dr. Fall mentions that he has still in his hands some brief discourses by Leighton on the Epistle to the Ephesians, and also his expositions of the Decalogue, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer, which might hereafter be printed. These, except the discources on the Epistles to the Ephesians, came out, Lond. 1701, 8vo., together with his two dis- courses, one on St. Matthew xxii. 37, 38, 39 ; the other on Heb. viii. 10 : to which was annexed a short catechism. There was also published a volume of " Tracts," 12 mo. London, 1708 ; which comprised the Rules for a Holy Life, one Sermon, and the Cate- ch ism. The later editions of his works are sufficiently known. It may gratify some readers to have the will of Archbishop Leighton, and some par- ticulars of the disposition of his property subjoined, along with ihe most probable ac- count of his ecclesiastical income. The fol- lowing is the will : — At Broadhurst, Feb. 17, 1683. Being at present (thanks be to God) in my accustomed health of body and soundness of mind and memory, I do write this with my own hand, to signify, that when the day I so I much wished and longed lor is come, that i shall set me free of this prison of clay wherein I am lodged, what I leave behind me of mon- ' ey, goods, or chattels, or whatsoever of any ' kind was called mine, I do devote to char- ' itable uses ; partly such as I have recom- mended particularly to my sister Mrs. Sap- phira Lightmaker, and her son Master Ed- ward Lightmaker of Broadhurst, and the re- mainder to such other charities as their own ; discretion shall think fittest. Only I desire ■ each of them to accept of a small token of a little grateful acknowledgment of their great kindness, and trouble they have had I with me for some years that I was their ; guest, the proportion whereof (to remove ! their scruple of taking it) I did expressly name to themselves, while I was with them, before the writing hereof, and likewise after I have wrote it. But they need not gi-^e any account of it to any other, the whoFe being left to their disposal. Neither I hope will any other friends or relations of mine take it unkind, that I bequeath no legacy to any of them, designing, as is said, so entirely to charity the whole remains. Only my books I leave and bequeath to the Cathedral of i Dunblane in Scotland, to remain there for the use of the clergy of that diocess. I think I need no more, but that I appoint my said sister, Mrs. Sapphira Lightmaker of Broad- hurst, and her son, Mr. Edward Lightmaker of Broadhurst, joint executors of this my will, — if they be both living at my decease, as I hope they shall ; or if that one of them shall be surviving, that one is to be the sole executor of it. I hope none will raise any question or doubt about this upon any omis- sion or informality of expression in it ; being for prevention thereof as plainly expressed as it could be conceived by me. And this I declare to be the last will and testament of Robert Leighton. We have already had occasion to observe, that his expenditure upon himself was fru- gal almost to parsimony, but from this fru- gality no accumulation resulted. One great object of his self-denial was to provide funds for the dissemination of sound religious learn- ing. Accordingly, when principal of the University of Edinburgh, he presented that cit>- wilh 150/. sterling for the support of a bursary or scholarship in philosophy. Glas- gow also is indebted to this venerable man for two bursaries, which are destined to as- sist in the maintenance of two students, for the space of six years ; the first four to be spent in philosophical pursuits, and the last two in the study of divinity : and should the student not be otherwise provided for, or wish to continue his theological studies, the magistrates and council are authorized to prolong his tenure of the studentship, for ' two or three additional years. In the elec- I tion of scholars, the trustees are not limited I to any pariicular description of persons ; but 54 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. they are required to present two candidates, when a bursary has become vacant, for a trial of their comparative merits ; and the one reported by the examiners to be the best qualified, is to receive a presentation from the officers of the town. The annual value of each bursary is 9/. sterling. In one of the deeds which conferred this benefit on indi- gent students, 150/. was devised to the hos- pital of St. Nicholas in Glasgow, for two poor men of good report. Three paupers are now enjoying the benefit of this legacy; which produces 4/. IO5. annually for each pensioner. To the diocess of Dunblane, which was ill provided with books, he bequeathed his val- uable library ; and after his removal thence, he made over for the benefit of the poor a considerable sum of money, due to him from a gentleman of that place, which money was afterward paid, and appropriated agreeably to the intentions of the benefactor. It is not easy to ascertain the precise amount of his income, when he was Bishop of Dunblane. Most likely the revenues of the see, together with the salary accruing from the Chapel Royal at Stirling, of which the diocesan of Dunblane was Dean by right of office, did not exceed 200/. That bishopric was the poorest in Scotland, except those of Caithness and Argyle. Shortly after the Reformation, its lental was taken at 313/. per annum, in money, besides a stated allow- ance of grain : but then there were several livings annexed to it. In the valuation book of Aberdeenshire, the Bishop of Dunblane is styled parson of Monimusk, the reason of which is, that, at Monimusk, there was for- merly a priory, the proceeds of which were ! assigned by James the Sixth, in 1617, to the I see of Dunblane. It was this prince who I augmented it with the deanery of the royal { chapel, which was considerably lucrative ; and he superadded the abbey of Cross-raguel in Ayrshire. If all these golden rivulets poured into Dunblane, when Leighton was its diocesan, he would be sufficiently opulent. But it is more than probable, that several of them were dried up, or intercepted, and that only a small proportion of the nominal rental flowed into the episcopal reservoir. This proportion would be further diminished by the excessive indulgence, with which he always listened to defaulters, who pleaded poverty in excuse for not making good their payments. TWO LETTERS COMMONLY REPUTED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY THE BISHOP OF DUNBLANE. LETTER I. Sir : In the late conference I had with your friend, the sum of what I said was this : 1. That episcopal government, managed j in conjunction with presbyters in presbyte- ! ries and synods, is not contrary either to the rule of Scripture, or the example of the prim- itive church, but most agreeable to both. 2. Yea, it is not contrary to that very cov- enant, which is pretended by so many as the main, if not the only reason of their scru- pling ; and for their sakes it is necessary to add this. For notwithstanding the many irregularities both in the matter and form of that covenant, and the illegal and violent ways of pressing and prosecuting of it, yet to them who remain under the conscience of its full force and obligation, and in that seem invincibly persuaded, it is certainly most pertinent, if it it be true, to declare the con- sistence of the even present government with that obligation. And as both these asser- tions, I believe, upon the exactest (if impar- tial and impassionate) inquiry, will be found to be in themselves true ; so they are owned by the generality of the presbyterians in England ; as themselves have published their opinion in print under this title, Two Papers of proposals humbly presented to his Majesty by the Reverend Ministers of the Presbyte- rian Persuasion, Printed at London, Anno 1660. Besides other passages in these papers to the same purpose, at pages 11 and 12, are these words ; *' And as these are our general ends and motives, so we are induced to insist upon the form of a synodical government, conjunct with a fixed presidency ; for these reasons : 1. " We have reason to believe that no other terms will be so generally agreed on, &c. 2. *' It being agreeable to the Scripture and primitive government, is likeliest to be the way of a more universal concord, if ever the churches on earth arrive at such a bles- sing ; however it will be most acceptable to God, and well-informed consciences. 3. *' It will promote the practice of disci- pline and godliness without disorder, and pro- mote order without hindering discipline and godliness. 4. And it is not to be silenced (though in some respects we are loath to mention it) that it wiJl save the nation from the violation of their solemn vow and covenant, without wronging the church at all, or breaking any other oath," &c. And a little after they add. THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 55 that the prelacy disclaimed in that covenant was, the engrossing of the sole power of or- dination and jurisdiction, and exercising of the whole discipline absolutely by bishops themselves, and their delegates, chancellors, surrogates, and officials. Sec, excluding whol- ly the pastors of particular churches from all share in it. And there is one of prime note among them, who, in a large treatise of church-government, doth clearly evince, that this was the mind both of the parliament of England, and of the assembly of Divines at Westminister, as they themselves did ex- pressly declare it, in the admitting of the cov- enant, " that they understand it not to be against all episcopacy, but only against the particular frame, as it is worded in the arti- cle itself : for our principal model in Eng- land, and the way of managing of it, what- soever is amiss (and it can be no wrong to make that supposition concerning any church on earth) or whatsoever they apprehend to be amiss, though it may be upon mistake, the brethren that are dissatisfied had possibly better acquitted their duty by free admoni- tions and significations of their own sense in all things, than by leaving of their station, which is the one thing that hath made the breach (I fear) very hard to cure, and in hu- man appearance near to incurable : but there is much charity due to them, as following the dictates of their own conscience : and they owe, and I hope, pay the same back again to those that do the same in another way : and whatsoever may be the readiest and happiest way of reuniting those that are mutually so minded, the Lord reveal it to them in due time." This one word I shall add, that this difference should arise to so great a height, may seem somewhat strange to any man that calmly considers, that there is in this church no change at alK neither in the doctrine nor worship, no nor in the sub- stance of the discipline itself : but when it falls on matters easily inflammable, how lit- tle a spark, how great a fire will kindle ? Because every one hath not the book, I have transcribed here Mr. Baxter's own words. Bax. of Church Government, P. III., c. i., p. 276 :— An Episcopacy desirable for the reforma- tion and peace of the churches. A fixed pres- ident durante vita, pp. 297, 330. But some will say, we are engaged against all prelacy by covenant, and therefore can not yield to so much as you do without perjury. Ans. That this is utterly untrue, I thus demonstrate : — 1. " When that covenant was presented to the assembly with the bare name of prelacy joined to popery, many grave and reverend divines desired that the word prelacy might be explained, because it was not all episco- pacy they were against, and thereupon the following concatenation in the parenthe- sis was given by way of explication in these words : That is church-government by arch- bishops, bishops, their chancellors and com- missaries, deans and chapters, archdeans, and all the other ecclesiastical officers depending on that hierarchy. By which ii appears that it was only the English hierarchy, or frame, that was covenanted against, and that which was then existent that was taken down. 2. " When the House of Lords took the covenant, Mr. Thomas Coleman, that gave it them, did so explain it, and profess that it was not their intent to covenant against all episcopacy, and upon this explication it was taken ; and certainly the parliament was most capable of giving the due sense of it, because it was they that did impose it. 3. *' And it could not be all episcopacy that was excluded, because a parochial episcopa- cy was at the same time used and approved commonly here in England. 4. " And in Scotland they had used the help of visiters for the reformation of their churches, committing the care of a country or circuit to some one man, which was as high a sort of episcopacy, at least as any I am pleading for. Besides they that had mod- erators in all their synods, which were tem- porary bishops. 5. " Also the chief divines of the late as- sembly at Westminister, that recommended that covenant to the nations, have professed their own judgments for such a moderate episcopacy as I am here defending, and there- fore never intended the exclusion of this by covenant." After he adds, " As we have prelacy to beware of, so we have the contrary extreme to avoid, and the church's peace (if it may be) to procure ; and as we must not take down the ministry, lest it prepare men for episcopacy, so neither must we be against any profitable exercise of the ministsy, or de- sirable order among them, for fear of intro- ducing prelacy." Thus far Baxter's own words. There is another that hath writ a treatise on purpose, and that zealous and strict enough, touchmg the obligation of the league and covenant, under the name of Theophilus Timorcus. And yet therein it is expressly asserted, that " however, at first, it might appear that the parliament had renounced all episcopacy, yet upon stricter inquiry, it was evident to the author, that that very scruple was made by some members in par- liament, and resolved (with the consent of their brethren in Scotland) that the cove- nant was only intended against prelacy as then it was in being in England, leaving a latitude for episcopacy," &c. It would be noted that when that cove- nant was framed, there was no episcopacy at all in being in Scotland, but in England only ; so that the extirpation of that frame only could then be meant and intended. Likewise it would be considered, that though there is in Scotland at present the name of dean, and chapter, and commissaries, yet that none of those at all do exercise any part of the dis- 56 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. cipline under that name, neither any other, as chancellor or surrogate, &c., by delega- tion from bishops, with a total exclusion of the community of presbyters from all power and share in it, which is the great point of difference betwixt that model and this with us, and imports so much as to the main of discipline. I do not deny that the generality of the people, yea even of ministers in Scot- land, when they took the covenant, might likewise understand that article as against all episcopacy whatsoever, even the most moderate, especially if it should be restored under the express name of bishops and arch- bishops ; never considering how different the nature, and model, and way of exercising it may be, though under the same names, and that the due regulating of tLe thing is much more to be regarded than either the retain- ing or altering of the name. But though they did not then consider any such thing, yet certainly it concerns them now to con- sider it, when it is represented to them, that not only the words of the oath itself do very genuinely consist with such a qualified and distinctive sense, but that the very compo- sers or imposers of it, or a considerable part of them, did so understand and intend it. And unless they make it appear that the episcopacy now m question with us in Scot- land is either contrary to the word, or to that mitigated sense of their own oath, it would seem more suitable to Christian charity and moderation, rather to yield to it as tolerable, at least, than to continue so inflexibly fast to their first mistakes and excessive zeal, as for love of it to divide from their church, and break the bond of peace. It may likewise be granted, that some learned men in England, who refused to take the covenant, did possibly except against that article of it, as signifying the total re- nunciation and abolition of all episcopacy ; and seeing that was the real event and con- sequent of it, and they having many c/.her strong and weighty reasons for refusing it, it is no wonder that they were little curious to inquire what passed amongst the contrivers of it, and what distinction or different senses either the words of that article might admit, or those contrivers might intend by them. And the truth is, that besides many other evils, the iniquity and unhappiness of such oaihs and covenants lie much in this, that being commonly framed by persons that, even among themselves, are not fully of one mind, but have their different opinions and interests to serve (and it was so even in this,) they are commonly patched up of so many several articles and clauses, and those too of so versatile and ambiguous terms, that they prove most wretched snares, thickets of bri- ers and thorns to the consciences of those that are engaged in them, and matters of endless contentions and disputes among them about the true sense and intendment, and the lie and obligements of those doubtful clau- ses, especially in some such alterations and revolutions of affairs as always may, and often do, even within few years follow after them ; for the models and productions of such devices are not usually long-lived. And whatsoever may be said for their excuse in whole or in part, who, in yieldance to the power that pressed it, and the general opin- ion of this church at that time, did take that covenant in the most moderate and least schismatical sense that the terms can admit ; yet, I know not what can be said to clear them of a very great sin, that not only fram- ed such an engine, but violently imposed it upon all ranks of men, not ministers and other public persons only, but the whole body and community of the people, thereby en- gaging such droves of poor ignorant persons, to they know not what, and, to speak freely, to such a hodge-podge of various concern- ments, religious and civil, as church disci- pline and government, the privileges of par- liament and liberties of subjects, and con- dign punishment of malignants, things hard enough for the wisest and learnedest to draw the just lines of, and to give plain definitions and decisions of them, and therefore cer- tainly as far off from the reach of poor coun- try people's understanding, as from the true interests of their souls ; and yet to tie them by a religious and sacred oath either to know all these, or to contend for them blindfold without knowing them, can there be instan- ced a greater oppression and tyranny over consciences than this? Certainly they that now govern in this church can not be charg- ed with anything near or like unto it ; for whatsoever they require of intrants to the ministry, they require neither subscriptions nor oaths of ministers already entered, and far less of the whole body of the people ; and it were ingenuously done to take some notice of any point of moderation, or what- soever else is really commendable even in those we account our greatest enemies, and not to take any part in the world for the ab- solute standard and unfailing rule of truth and righteousness in all things. But oh, who would not long for the shad- ows of the evening, and to be at rest from all these poor childish trifling contests ! P. S. Whatsoever was the occasion of copying out the passages cited in this paper, and of adding these few thoughts that then occurred touchmg that subject, I would have neither of them understood as intended any way to reflect upon or judge other churches where this government is otherwise exer- cised ; but what is here said is only argw mentum ad hominem, and particularly adapted I to the persons, and notions, and scruples we I have to do withal in this church. And though this is designed to come to very few hands, yet I wish that what is here repre- sented were by some better way brought to the notice of such as know least of it and THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 57 need it most, that, if it be possible, their ex- treme fervor might be somewhat allayed by this consideration, that this very form of government, which is so hateful to them, is by the presbyterians of the neighbor king- dom accounted a thin^, not only tolerable, but desirable : and I might add, that upon due inquiry, the reformed churches abroad will be found in a great part much of the same opinion ; yea, I am not afraid to say yet further, that I think there is good reason to believe, that it were not only lawful for these that now govern in this church, but if prejudice hindered not, might prove expe- dient and useful for the good of the church itself, that they did use in some instances a little more authority than they do, and yet might still be very far off from proud and tyrannical domination, never applying their power to obstruct what is good, but to ad- vance it, and not at all against the truth, but always for it, and while they do so, the athe- ism and profaneness that abounds can not reasonably be imputed to the nature of the government, as too commonly it is by some, but rather to the schism that is made by withdrawing and dividing from it ; for there is not a greater enemy in the world to the power of religion than the wranglings and bitter contentions, that are caused about the external forms of it. Elpfivrj 6i>.ri, eipfivr, ib'i\r), 'vnoTc hrjdi Kure'^inei, as Naziauzcn pathetically begins one of his orations for peace. I con- fess I have sometimes wondered to see some wise and good men, after all that can be said to them, make so great reckoning of certain metaphysical exceptions against some little words and formalities of difference in the government, and set so little value upon so great a thing as is the peace of the church. Oh, when shall the loud and harsh noises of our debates be turned to the sweeter sound of united prayers for this blessed peace, that we might cry with one heart and voice to the God of peace, who alone can give it, Pacem te poscimus omnes : and if we be real supplicants for it, we would beware of being the disappointers of our OAvn desires, and of obstructing the blessing we pray for, and therefore would mainly study a temper re- ceptive of it, and that is, great meekness and charity ; and certainly whatsoever party or opinion we follow in this matter, the badge by which we must be known to the follow- ers of Jesus Christ is this, that we love one another, and that law unquestionably is of divine right, and therefore would not be bro- ken by bitter passion and revilings, and root- ed hatreds one against another, for things about which the right is in dispute betwixt us ; and however that be, are we Christians ? Then doubtless the things wherein we agree are incomparably greater than these wherein we disagree, and therefore in all reason should be more powerful to unite us, than the other to divide us. But to restrain myself, and stop here, — if we love both our own and the church's peace, there be two things I conceive we should most carefully avoid, the bestowing too great zeal upon small things, and too much confidence of opinion upon doubtful things : it is a mad thing to rush on hard and boldly in the dark, and we all know what kind of person it is of whom Solomon says. That he rages and is confident. LETTER n. Sir : The question betwixt us, is not con- cerning bishops governing absolutely by themselves and their delegates, but concern- ing bishops governing in conjunction with presbyters in presbyteries and synods ; of which we affirm, that it is neither contrary to the Scriptures, nor the example of the primitive church, but most agreeable to both : if any think otherwise, let them produce their evidences of Scripture and antiquity. If they say, it is not enough to make such a form lawful, that it is not contrary to Scrip- ture, but there ought to be an express com- mand or rule in Scripture to warrant it, they will sure be so just, as to be subject to the same law themselves. Let them then pro- duce such an express command or rule for their own model of kirk-sessions, presbyte- ries, synods provincial and national, and a commission of the kirk in their several de- pendancies and subordinations for the ordi- nary and constant government and exercise of discipline in the church, and the neces- sary changing of the moderators in these meetings, excepting only that of the kirk- session, wherein the minister is constantly to moderate ; for without such an express rule as this, a bishop or fixed president may very well consist with that whole frame they con- tend for ; and it is really and actually so at this present in this church, and they stand so much the rather obliged to bring a clear command for these judicatories, and their subordinations, because they affirm them to be of unquestionable divine right, and the very kingdom of Christ upon earth, and the only lawful and absolutely necessary govern- ment of the Christian church, whereas the asserters of other forms do not usually speak so big. If they shall say, they are not against a fixed president or bishop, or call him what you will (for to contest about names, espe- cially in so grave a matter, is trivial and childish), but that the question is about their power, then we beg that it may be so. Let that be all the question betwixt us, and then we hope the controversy will be quickly end- ed ; for we trust we shall be found not at all desirous to usurp or effect any undue power, but rather to abate of that power which is reasonable, and to conform even to primitive episcopacy, than that a schism should con- 58 THE LIFE OF ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. tinue in this church upon that score. But be j it supposed, that bishops do stretch their \ power somewhat beyond their line, let all the world judge, whether ministers are for that engaged to leave their station and with- draw from those meetings of the church, which themselves approve of, for the exer- cise of discipline, yea and (as many of them have done) to separate from the public wor- ship, and whole communion of the church, because of some degree of wrong done them (as they think in that point of power), or whether they had not sufficiently acquitted themselves, and discharged their consciences by free declaring of their opinion concerning that matter, and modestly desiring the re- dress of it ; and patiently waiting for it, though it be not presently redressed, and continuing in the performance of their own duty to their power,though others above them or about them, do transgress theirs, or seem at least to ihem to do so ; otherwise, if we think ourselves obliged for everything that is, or that we judge, faulty in other persons, or in the frame of things, to relinquish either the communion of it, or our station in it, what will there be but endless swarms of separations and divisions m any church under the sun? But there is one thing in this business of ours that sticks after all the rest : the cove- nant. As to that, waiving all the irregular- ities of it, though so many and so great, that, in the judgment of divers, both wise and good men, they seem to annul the obligation of it, suppose it still to bind all that took it, and suppose likewise, that the present epis- copacy in this church is that same that was abjured in that covenant ; yet the article re- lating thereto obliges each one only to this, to endeavor within their calling and station, if such an episcopacy shall be introduced and continued against their will. But the truth is, if men w^ould have the patience to inquire I j into it, and consider the thing without preju- I dice and partiality, this our episcopacy will be found not to be the same with that abjur- ed in that covenant ; for that is the govern- ment of bishops and archbishops absolutely by themselves and their delegates, chancel- lors, archdeacons, officials, &c., as it is ex- pressed in the very words of the article, and was on purpose so expressed, to difference that frame from other forms of episcopacy, and particularly from that which is exercised by bishops jointly with presbyters in presby- teries and s)Tiods, and that is it which is now used in this church. And that the presbyte- rians in England do generally take notice of this difference, and to that degree, as to ac- count the one model contrary to the cove- nant, and the other not contrary to it, but very well agreeing with it, is a thing that none can deny, nor any that uses diligence to inquire can be ignorant of, for it is clear in divers treatises extant in print. These things, to my best discernmg, are truths ; and if they be indeed so, I am sure are pertinent truths, toward the healing of our sad divisions ; but if any like to be contentious, I wish I could say of this church, we have no such custom : but this certainly may be said, that there is no custom doth more disedify the churches of God, and less become the followers of the Prince of Peace. I shall only add one word which I am sure is undeniable, and I think is very considerable, that he that can not join with the present frame of this church,could not have lived in the communion of the Christian church in the time of the first most famous general assembly of it, the Council of Nice,yea (to go no higher up, though safely I might), he must as certainly have separated from the whole catholic church in the days of the holy bishop and martyr Cyprian upon this very scruple of the government, as Novatus did i upon another occasion. DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREEACE.* When Mr. Wilson undertook to publish j I found new reasons to be satisfied with the several pieces of Archbishop Leighton, from ; task I had undertaken, which indetd was the manuscripts in which they had so long welcome to me in proportion to the degree lain concealed, having heard of the high in which I perceived it must be laborious, esteem I have long professed for the wri- The papers which were sent me were copies tings of that excellent person, he entreated of others, which I suppose were transcribed me that I would revise them, and if I ap- j from short-hand notes, which some skilful prove the publication, would introduce them \ writer had haply taken from the archbishop's into the world by a recommendatory preface, mouth. They were beyond comparison more The last of these requests I absolutely re- inaccurate than those of his printed works, fused, knowing how very unworthy I am to which are most remarkably so ; and yet they pretend, by my suffrage, to add anything to , contained such inimitable traces of sweet the reputation and acceptance of what came natural eloquence, and of genuine and lively from the pen of so eminently great and good piety, as speak the author far more certainly, a man : and the more I know of him, and of i than the most exact resemblance of what myself, the more deeply sensible I must be was known to be his handwriting could pos- of this. But with the former request I cheer- '\ sibly have done. fully complied, though my various and im- Besides a large collection of letters, of poriant business would have furnished a very which I shall afterward speak, the papers Elausible excuse for declining it. I appre- consisted of his meditations and expositions ended that these pieces were not very large, on Psalm xxxix., on part of Rom. xii., and and I knew that, like all the other remains the whole sixth of Isaiah. On this last sub- of our incomparable author, they were not lime and instructive portion of Scripture, designed for the press ; so that it was proba- there were three distinct expositions, deliv- ble they were written in a very hasty man- ered, as I suppose, at different places ; the ner, considering how well he knew the value latter being, so far as I could judge, supple- of time, and how entirely he was superior to , mental to the former, yet so that additions popular applause in all his compositions for were made to almost every verse, and some- the pulpit, as most of these were. The num- j times the same things which had been said berless errors which I had observed in the before, expressed in a different manner. I first edition of all his English works, by judged it consistent with the strictest fidelity which the sense of many passages is abso- \ owing to the works of so illustrious a person lutely destroyed, and that of scores and hun- (which absolutely forbade my adding or di- dreds very much obscured, made me the minishing anything), to divide them, and in- more ready to attempt the paying this little corporate them into one whole ; which could tribute of respect to his memory, which no not possibly be done, without transcribing words or actions can fully express ; and I the pieces, omitting those passages in the was morally certain, that whatever came i former, that were afterward more copiously from such a pen would be so entertaining ' or more correctly expressed in the latter, and and improving, that I could not fail of being inserting here and there a line or two, by immediately and abundantly rewarded for way of connexion, to prevent those disagree- whatever pains it might cost me to prepare ; able chasms which would otherwise have it for the Public. | defaced much of its beauty. For the rest When these manuscripts came to my hands, | the reader may assure himself, that if (which • Drawn up for the Edition of Archbishop Leighton's Expository Works, in two volumes, octavo, pub- lished by David Wilson, Edinburgh, 1748. 60 « DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. T can not doubt) these papers came genuine into my hand, they are now entirely so, in e"very sentence, and in every clause; for in those very few places where the sense was to me absolutely unintelligible, and the con- struction incurably ungrammatical, I chose rather to drop such imperfect fragments, than by uncertain additions of my own, to run the risk of imputing to the good archbishop what 1 was not sure he ever wrote. Had these fragments contained hints of any things curious in criticism, history, or controversy of any kind, I would have published them apart, at the end of these volumes : but as they were very few, and, like the rest of his ■writings, entirely of a devotional and practi- cal nature, I thought it would have been a formality nearly bordering upon impertinence, to have collected and inserted them in such a manner. The EtJmco'Critical Meditations, on the iv., xxxii., and cxxx. Psalms, abound with so many charming sentiments and expressions, that I could not but desire the English reader should share in part of the pleasure they had given me. I have therefore taken care they should be faithfully translated, and have re- viewed the version with as much accuracy as my other engagements would allow. It is indeed impossible to transfuse the inimita- ble elegance and strength of the original into any translation ; but he who is incapable of the pleasure of using that, will, I hope, be glad to enjoy the benefit of such eminently pious re- flections, though under the disadvantage of a dress much less beautiful and ornamental. When this part of the design was exe- cuted, I was insensibly, by an ambiguity of expression in the proposals printed at Edin- burgh, led into another labor, much greater than I at first imagined it would have proved, I mean that of correcting the quarto edition of the incomparable commentary upon the first epistle of Peter, which I may venture to pronounce the most faulty piece of printing I ever remember to have seen in any lan- guage. At first, I intended only to have noted those gross mistakes which quite per- vert that which any person of common pen- etration must see to have been the original sense, and yet are taken no notice of in erro- neous table of errata. But afterward consid- ering what an embarrassment it is to com- mon readers, to see commas, colons, and pe- riods, placed almost in a promiscuous disor- der, without any regard to their proper sig- nification, which is the case here, at least in every ten lines, 1 determined to go over the whole, pen in hand, and correct every page as I would have done a proof from the press. While I was thus employed, I observed that the confusion which many have com- plained of in the archbishop's method, and which I myself really thought matter of some just complaint too, was frequently the consequence of omitting the numeral marks, which should denote the subordination of heads, and this where some of them are in- serted, as if on purpose to increase the per- plexity. And it also very frequently results from the neglect of giving a proper view at first of the method proposed, and which was worst of all, in not a few places, from pla- cing the number of the head, instead of the head itself. This perhaps was done with design in the first copy, to save the trouble of writing it over again ; but it is extremely inconvenient to the reader, as it most natur- ally leads him to mistake the first sentence of the enlargement, for the head it is intend- ed to illustrate. This is a remark which is applicable to many of our author's sermons ; and 1 wish it had been more constantly attended to in that valuable edition of them published by Mr. Wilson at Edinburgh two years ago, in comparison of which, nevertheless, it is cer- tain that neither of the former are to be named. I thought it no unwarrantable lib- erty at all, but a high point of justice, to sup- ply with my pen what is so evidently defi- cient, and, I hope I shall not be condemned for venturing, as I was expressly desired to do, here and there to exchange a Scots word or phrase for an English one, certainly of the same signification, and more generally un- derstood. I thought that to have distinguish- ed all these corrections by different charac- ters, crotchets, or inverted commas, would have injured the beauty of the impressions, and might have looked like a little affecta- tion of making a vain parade of what I have done. If any are curious enough to desire exactly to know it, they may get surer infor- mation by comparing this edition with ihe former, by which they may judge of the little, but as I thought, very necessary free- doms taken with the manuscript pieces. And if any perceive, as I suppose most ob- servant readers that make the comparison, will, that the Commentary upon Peter now reads in a much rounder, clearer, and pleas- anter manner than it before did, they will only reflect how much a multitude of little negligences and errors, each of them seem- ing in itself minutely and inconsiderably small, may affect the beauty, character, and use of a work in which they are found. On the whole, the preparing these vol- umes for the press hath generally taken up a little of my time in the intervals of other business, daily for several months ; but I am far from repenting the labor I have bestowed upon it. The delight and edification which I have found in the writings of this wonder- ful man, for such I must deliberately call him, would have been a full equivalent for my pains, separate from all prospect of that effect which they might have upon others. For truly I know not that I have ever spent a quarter of an hour in reviewing any of them, but even amidst that interruption which a critical examination of the copy would naturally give, I have felt some im- DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. 61 pressions which I could wish alway to re- tain. I can hardly forbear saying, as a con- siderable philosopher and eminent divine, with whom I have the honor of an intimate correspondence and friendship, said to me in a letter long ago,* and when my acquaint- ance with our author's works was but be- ginning, " There is a spirit in Archbishop Leighton I never met with in any human writings : nor can I read many lines in them without being moved." Indeed it would be difficult for me to say where, but in the sacred oracles, I have ever found such heart-affecting lessons of simpli- city and humility, candor and benevolence, exalted piety, without the least tincture of enthusiasm, and an entire mortification to every earthly interest, without any mixture of splenetic resentment. Nor can I ever suf- ficiently admire that artless manner in which he lays open, as it were, his whole breast to the reader, and shows, without seeming to be at all conscious of it himself, all the vari- ous graces that can adorn and ennoble the Christian, running like so many veins of pre- cious ore in the rich mine where they grew. And hence, if I mistake not, is that wonderful energy of his discourses, obvious as they seem, unadorned as they really are, which I have observed to be owned by persons of eminent piety in the most different ranks, and amid all the variety of education and capacity that can be imagined. As every eye is struck by consummate beauty, though in the plainest dress, and the sight of such an object impresses much more than any la- bored description of complexion, features, or air, or any harangue on the nicest rules of proportion which could come into considera- tion ; so, in the works of this great adept in true Christianity, we do not so much hear of goodness, as see it in its most genuine traces ; see him a living image of his Divine Master, for such indeed his writings show, I had al- most said demonstrate him to have been, by such internal characters as surely a bad man could not counterfeit, and no good man can so much as respect. Where the matter is so remarkably excel- lent, a wise and picoas reader will not be over-solicitous about the style; yet I think he will find it, in these compositions, far above any reasonable contempt or censure. When I consider what the prevailing taste was a century ago in this respect, I have of- ten wondered at the many true beauties of expression that occur in these pieces, and the general freedom from those false and fanciful ornaments, if they are to be called ornaments, which occur in contemporary authors. On the whole, the style wonderfully suits the sentiments ; and however destitute of the flights of oratory, has such a dignity and force mingled with that simplicity, which is to be sure its chief characteristic ; so that on •AprU 10, 1740. The Rev. Dr. Henry MUes, F. R. S. the whole, it has often reminded me of that soft and sweet eloquence of Ulysses, which Homer* describes as falling like flakes of snow ; and if I might be allowed to pursue the similitude, I could add, like that, it pen- etrates deep into the mind too, and tends to enrich and fructify it. It is chiefly the practical preacher that shines in these lectures, yet it seems to me, that the judicious expositor will also appear, and appear most to the most competent judg- es. There is a sort of criticism on the sacred writings, which none but an eminently good man can attain ; and if I am at all capable of judging concerning it, it remarkably reigns here. We find indeed little of that laborious sifting of words and syllables, in \\^^ich some have worn out so much time and pains, if not to no purpose at all (for I will not assert that), at least to purposes very low, and in- considerable, when compared with those which our author pursues and attains. The reader, will, I think, find great light noured on many very difficult passages, especially in the First Epistle of Peter, in a very masterly manner, and often by a few weighty words. But these hints are generally very short ; for the good author appears to have lopped off everything as superfluous, which did not immediately tend to make his readers better ; or rather to have had a heart so entirely pos- sessed with this desire, that nothing else ever offered itself to his view. Whatever of an ornamental kind is to be found in these prac- tical parts of the work, which certainly con- stitute more than six sevenths of the whole, appears to have been quite unlabored and unsought ; but it conduces much to our en- tertainment, and I hope in its consequence to our improvement, that the author had natur- ally a very fine imagination ; the consequence of which is, that his works abound with a charming variety of beautiful figures, spring- mg up most naturally from his subjects, and so adding some graces of novelty, to thoughts in themselves most obvious and common. On the whole, I can not but hope that God will be pleased to bless the publication of these pieces, in these circumstances, as an occasion of reviving a sense of religion, and promoting the interest of true Christianity. It has appeared to me a memorable event, that when the extreme modesty of Arch- bishop Leighton had been inexorable to all the entreaties of his many friends, to print something during his life, so many of his precious remains should with such solicitude be gleaned up after death, and some of them more than threescore years after it ; and that they should be read with such high esteem and delight, as it is plain many of them have been, by persons of the most different de- nominations throughout Great Britain. lam very sensible of it as an honor done to me in the course of divine Providence, that the task * Kal lixta vibaiiuaiv toiKdra j(^ci^iep{r](riv. — II. Lii. V. 222. 62 DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. I have here executed should so very unex- pectedly be devolved upon me. I have no property at all in the work, nor the least sec- ular interest in its success : what I have done was entirely the result of love to the au- thor's memory, and concern for the public good ; but I shall be gloriously rewarded, if the labor I have bestowed upon it, be the oc- casion of promoting those great ends which animated the discourses and actions of the holy man, who has now dwelt so long among the blessed inhabitants of that world after which he so ardently aspired, while yet among mortals. And let me be permitted to add, that I have some secret hope this publi- cation, in these circumstances, may, among other gott effects, promote that spirit of Catholicism, for which our author was so re- markable, and extend it among various de- nominations of Christians, in the northern and southern parts of our island. If the sin- cerest language or actions can express the disposition of the heart, it will be here ap- parent, that a diversity of judgment, with regard to episcopacy, and several forms both of discipline and worship connected with it, have produced in my mind no alienation, no indifference toward Archbishop Leighton, nor prevented my delighting in his works, and profiting by them. In this respect 1 trust my brethren m Scotland will, for their own sake, and that of religion in general, show the like candor. On the other side, as I have observed with great pleasure and thankful- ness how much many of the established cler- gy in this part of Britain are advancing in moderation toward their dissenting brethren, I am fully assured they will not like these excellent pieces the worse, for having passed through my hand. It is truly my grief, that anything should divide me from the fullest communion with those to whom I am united in bonds of as tender affection as I bear to any of my fellow-Christians. And it is my daily prayer, that God will, by his gentle but powerful influence on our minds, mutually dispose us more and more for such a further union, as may most effectually consolidate the protestant cause, establish the throne of our gracious sovereign, remove the scandal our divisions have occasioned, and strength- en our hands in those efforts by which we are attempting, and might then, I hope, more successfully attempt, the service of our common Christianity. In the meantime, I desire most sincerely to bless God for any advances that are made toward it ; and I can not forbear to illustrate and confirm my thoughts on this head, by inserting the ele- gant words of a most worthy member of the Church of England, well known in the learn- ed world, as I have lately had the honor of receiving them from his own pen. I conceal his name, and therefore hope it is no viola- tion of the laws of friendship, to insert at large a passage from a familiar letter, which, if it warms my reader's breast as it did mine, will be not only an entertainment, but a blessing to many, and which is as suitable a conclusion of this preface, as if it had been written in that view. " I am glad," says he, " that Christianity begins to be so well un- derstood and taught by so many men of parts and learning in all sects, the fruits of which appear in a candor and charity unknown to all ages of the church, except the primitive, I had almost said, the apostolic age. Does not this give you a prospect, though perhaps still very distant, of the completion of the famous prophecy that speaks of the lion and the lamb lying down together in the kingdom of the Messiah ? Lions there have been hitherto in all churches, but too many fierce, greedy, and blood-thirsty lions, though often disguised like lambs, and some lambs there have been, simple enough to think it expedient for the flock, to assume the habit and terror of lions ; but I hope they now be- gin to undeceive themselves, and to consider Christianity as intending to bring back the world to that state of innocence which it en- joyed before the fail, when in one and the same paradise, to use the words of Milton^ ' Frisking played All beasts of th' earth, since wild and of all chast, In wood or wilderness, forest or den. Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw Dandled the kid.' To attain this happy state," continues this amiable writer, " all Christians should unite their endeavors, and instead of looking out for and insisting upon points of difference and distinction, seek for those only in which they do or may agree. They may at leasi sow the seeds of peace and unity, though they should not live to reap the fruits of it in thib world. Blessed are the peacemakers, says the Prince of Peace, /or they shall be called the children of God. An appellation infi- nitely more honorable than that of pastor, bishop, archbishop, patriarch, cardinal, or pope, attended with a recompense infinitely surpassing the richest revenues of the high- est ecclesiastical dignity." I join my hearty wishes and prayers with those of my much- esteemed friend, that we may all more and more deserve this character, and attain this its reward. P. Doddridge. Northampton, April 26, 1748. A PRACTICAL COMMENTARY UPON THE FIRST EPISTLE GENERAL OF SAINT PETER. CHAPTER I. Verse 1. Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers scattered throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bilhynia. The grace of God in the heart of man, is a tender plant in a strange unkindly soil ; and therefore can not well prosper and grow, without much care and pains, and that of a skilful hand, and which hath the art of cher- ishing it : for this end hath God given the constant ministry of the world to his church, not only for the first work of conversion, but also for confirming and increasing of his grace in the hearts of his children. And though the extraordinary ministers of the gospel, the apostles, had principally the former for their charge — the converting of unbelievers, Jews and Gentiles, and so the the planting of churches, to be after kept, and watered by others (as the apostle intimates, 1 Cor. iii. 6), yet did they not neglect the other work of strengthening the grace of God begun in the new converts of those times, both by revisiting them, and exhort- ing them in person, as they could, and by the supply of their writing to them when absent. Ajid the benefit of this extends (not by accident, but by the purpose and good provi- dence of God) to the church of God in all succeeding ages. This excellent epistle (full of evangelical doctrine and apostolical authority) is a brief, and yet very clear summary both of the con- solations and instructions needful for the en- couragement and direction of a Christian in his journey to heaven, elevating his thoughts and desires to that happiness, and strength- ening him against all opposition in the way, both that of corruption within, and tempta- tions and afflictions from without. The heads of doctrine contained in it are many, but the main that are most insisted I on, are these three, faith, obedience, and pa- i tience ; to establish them in believing, to di- 1 rect them in doing, and to comfort them in suffering. And because the first is the ground- ; work and support of the other two, this first chapter is much occupied with persuading them of the truth of the mystery which they had received and did believe, viz., their re- demption and salvation by Christ Jesus ; that inheritance of immortality bought by his blood for them, and the evidence and sta- bility of their right and title to it. And then he uses this belief, this assurance : of the glory to come, as the great persuasive ' to the other two, both to holy obedience, and constant patience, since nothing can be too much either to forego or undergo, either to do or to suffer, for the attainment of that blessed state. And as, from the consideration of that ob- ject and matter of the hope of believers, he encourages to patience, and exhorteth to ho- liness in this chapter in general, so, in the following chapters, he expresses more par- ticularly, both the universal and special du- ties of Christians, both in doing and suffer- ing, often setting before those to whom he wrote, the matchless example of the Lord Jesus, and the greatness of their engagement I to follow him. i In the first two verses, we have the inscrip- ' tion and salutation, in the usual style of the apostolic epistles. I The inscription hath the author and the address — from whom, and to whom. The author of this epistle is designated by his ' name — Peter ; and his callino- — an apostle. I "We shall not insist upon his name, that it I was imposed by Christ, or what is its signi- ' fication : this the evangelists teach us, John j i. 42 ; Matt. xvi. 18. I By that which is spoken of him in divers i passages of the gospel, he is very remarka- 64 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. 1. h\e among the apostles, both for his graces, and his failings.; eminent in zeal and cour- age, and yet stumbling oft in his forward- ness, and once grossly falling. And these by the providence of God being recorded in scripture, gave a check to the excess of Rome's conceit concerning this apostle. Their extolling and exalting him above the rest, is not for his cause, much less to the honor of his Lord and master Jesus Christ, for he is mjured and dishonored by it ; but it is in fa- vor of themselves. As Alexander distin- guished his two friends, that the one was a friend of Alexander, the other a friend of the king, the preferment which they give this apostle, is not in good will to Peter, but in the desire of primacy. But whatsoever he was, they would be much in pain to prove Rome's right to it by succession. And if ever it had any such right, we may confi- dently say, it has forfeited it long ago, by departing from St. Peter's footsteps, and from his faith, and retaining too much those things wherein he was faulty : namely, His unwillingness to hear of, and consent to, Christ's sufferings, — his master, spare thy- self, or far be it from thee, — in those they are like him ; for thus they would disburden and exempt the church from the cross, from the real cross or afflictions, and, instead of that, have nothing but painted, or carved, or gild- ed crosses ; these they are content to em- brace, and worship too, but can not endure to hear of the other. Instead of the cross of affliction, they make the crown or mitre the badge of their church, and will have it known by prosperity, and outward pomp ; and so turn the church militant into the church triumphant, not considering that it is Babylon's voice, not the church's, / sit as a queen, and shall see no sorrow. Again, they are like him in his saying 'on the mount at Christ's transfiguration, when he knew not what he said. It is good to be here : so they have little of the true glory of Christ, but the false glory of that monarchy on their seven hills : It is good to be here, say they. Again, in their undue striking with the sword, not the enemies, as he, but the faith- ful friends and servants of Jesus Christ. But to proceed. We see here Peter's office or title, — an apostle ; not chief bishop. Some in their glossing have been so impudent as to add that beside the text ; though in chap. v. 4, he gives that title to Christ alone, and to himself only fellow elder; and here, not ;9rmce of the apostles, but an apostle, restored and re-established after his fall, by repentance, and by Christ himself after his own death and resurrection. (See John xxi.) Thus we have in our apostle a singular instance of human frailty on the one side, and of the sweetness of divine grace on the other. Free and rich grace it is indeed, that forgives and swp.llows up multitudes of sins, of the great- est sins, not only sins before conversion, as to St. Paul, but foul offences committed after conversion, as to David, and to this apostle ; not only once raising them from the dead, but when they fall, stretching out the same hand, and raising them again, and restoring them to their station, and comforting them in it by his free spirit, as David prays ; not only to cleanse polluted clay, but to work it into vessels of honor, yea, of the most defiled shape to make the most refined vessels, not vessels of honor of the lowest sort, but for the highest and most honorable services, vessels to bear his own precious name to the nations ; making the most unworthy and the most unfit, fit by his grace to be his messen- gers. Of Jesus Christ.] Both as the beginning and the end of his apostleship, as Christ is called Alpha and Omega ; chosen and called by him, and called to this — to preach him, and salvation wrought by him. Apostle of Jesus Christ.] Sent by him and the message no other than his name, to make that known. And what this apostleship was then, after some extraordinary way, befitting these first times of the gospel, the ministry of the word in ordinary is now, and there- fore an employment of more difficulty and ex- cellency than is usually conceived by many, not only by those who look upon it, but even of those who are exercised in it ; — to be am- bassadors for the greatest of kings, and upon no mean employment, that great treaty of peace and reconcilement betwixt him and mankind. V. 2 Cor. v. 20. This epistle is directed to the elect, who are described here, by their temporal and by their spiritual conditions. The one hath very much dignity and comfort in it ; the other hath neither, but rather the contrary of both ; and therefore the apostle, intending their comfort, mentions the one but in passing, to signify to whom particularly he sent his epis- tle ; but the other is that which he would have their thoughts dwell upon, and there- fore he prosecutes it in his following dis- course. And if we look to the order of the words, their temporal condition is but inter- jected ; for it is said. To the elect, first, and then, To the strangers scattered, &:c. And he would have this as it were drowned in the other — According to the foreknowlege of God the Father. That those dispersed strangers who dwelt in the countries here named, were Jews, ap- pears, if we look to the foregoing epistle, where the same word is used, and expressly appropriated to the Jews. James i. 1. St, Peter in Gal. ii. is called an apostle of the circumcision, as exercising his apostleship most toward them ; and there is in some ' passages of this epistle, somewhat which, though belonging to all Christians, yet hath, in the strain and way of expression, a par- ticular fitness to the believing Jews, as being particularly verified in them, which was spo 1 ken of their nation, chap. ii. 9, 10. Ver. 1.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 65 Some argue from the name, strangers, that the Gentiles are here meant, which seems not to be ; for proselyte Gentiles were indeed called strangers in Jerusalem, and by the Jews; but were not the Jews strangers in these places — Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia ? — Not strangers dwell- ing together in a prosperous, flourishing con- dition, as a well-planted colony, but stran- gers of the dispersion, scattered to and fro. Their dispersion was partly, first by the As- syrian captivity, and afier that by the Baby- lonish, and by the invasion of the Romans ; and it might be in these very times increased by the believing Jews flying from the hatred and persecution raised against them at home. The places here mentioned, through which they were dispersed, are all in Asia. So Asia here, is Asia the lesser. Where it is to be observed, that some of those who heard St. Peter, Acts ii. 9, are said to be of those re- gions. And if any of the number then con- verted were among these dispersed, the com- fort was no doubt the more grateful from the hand of the same apostle by whom they were first converted ; but this is only con- jecture. Though divine truths are to be re- ceived equally from every minister alike, yet it must be acknowledged", that there is some- thing (we know not what to call it) of a more acceptable reception of those who at first were the means of brin^^ing men to God, than of others; like the opinion some have of physicians whom they love. The apostle comforts these strangers of this dispersion, by the spiritual union Avhich they obtained by effectual calling ; and so calls off their eyes from their outward, dis- persed, and despised condition, to look above that, as high as the spring of their happi- ness, the free love and election of God. Scat- tered^ in the countries, and yet gathered in God's election, chosen or picked out ; stran- gers to men among whom they dwelt, but known and foreknown to God ; removed from their own country to which men have natu- rally an unalterable aS'ection, but heirs made of a better (as follows, ver. 3, 4) ; and hav- ing within them the evidence both of eternal election and of that expected salvation, the spirit of holiness (ver. 2). At the best, a Christian is but a stranger here, set him where you will, as our apostle teacheth after ; and it is his privilege that he is so ; and when he thinks not so, he forgets and disparages himself : he descends far below his quality, when he is much taken with anything in this place of his exile. But this is the wisdom of a Christian, when he can solace himself against the meanness of his outward condition, and any kind of discomfort attending it, with the comfortable assurance of the love of God, that he hath called him to holiness, given him some meas- ure of it, and an endeavor after more ; and by this may he conclude, that he hath or- dained / Tm unto salvation. If either he is a 9 stranger where he lives, or as a stranger de- serted of his friends, and very near stripped of all outward comforts, yet may he rejoice in this, that the eternal, unchangeable love of God, which is from everlasting to ever- lasting, is sealed to his soul. And 0, what will it avail a man to be compassed about with the favor of the world, to sit unmolest- ed in his own home and possessions, and to have them very great and pleasant, to be well moneyed, and landed and befriended, and yet estranged and severed from God, not having any token of his special love ? To the elect.'l The apostle here denomi- nates all the Cnristians to whom he writes, by the condition of true believers, calling them elect and sanctified, kc, and the apos- tle St. Paul writes in the same style in his epistles to the churches. Not that all in these churches they Were such indeed, but because they professed to be such, r.nd, by that their profession and calling as Chris- tians, they were obliged to be such : and as many of them as were in any measure true to their calling and profession were really such. Besides, it would seem not unworthy of consideration, that in all probability there would be fewer false Christians, and the number of true believers would be usually greater, in the churches in those primitive limes, than now in the best reformed churches : because there could not then be many of them that were from their infancy bred in the Christian faith, but the greatest part were such as, being of years of discre- tion, were, by the hearing of the gospel, converted from paganism and Judaism to the Christian religion first, and made a deliber- ate choice of it ; to which there were at that time no great outward encouragements, and therefore the less danger of multitudes of hypocrites, which, as vermin in summer, breed most in the time of the church's pros- perity. Though no nation or kingdom had then universally received the faith, but rather hated and persecuted it, yet, were there even then among them, as the writings of the apostles testify, false brethren, and inordi- nate walkers, and men of corrupt minds, earthly-minded, and led with a spirit of envy and contention and vain-glory. Although the question that is moved con- cerning the necessary qualifications of all the members of a true visible church can no way (as I conceive) be decided from the inscrip- tions of the epistles, yet certainly they are use- ful to teach Christians and Christian churches what they ought to be, and what their holy profession requires of them, and sharply to reprove the gross unlikeness and inconfor- mity that is in the most part of men to the description of Christians. As there be some that are too strait in their judgment concern- ing the being and nature of the visible church, so certainly the greatest part of churches are too loose in their practice. From the dissimilitude betwixt our churches 66 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I and those we may make this use of reproof, that if an apostolical epistle were to be di- rected to us, it ought to be inscribed, to the ignorant, profane, malicious, fee. As he, who at the hearing of the gospel read, said, " Either this is not the gospel, or we are not Christians," so, either these characters, giv- en in the inscription of these epistles, are not irue characters, or we are not true Christians. Ver. 2. Elect, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the spirit, unto obedience, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ. In this verse we have their condition and the causes of it. — Their condition sanctified and justified ; the former expressed by obe- 1 dience, the latter by sprinkling of the blood of Christ. The causes, 1. Eternal election, 2. The execution of that decree, their effectual calling, which ([ conceive) is meant by elec- tion here, the selecting them out of the world, and joining them to the fellowship of the children of God. So John xv. 19. The for- mer, electiouy is particularly ascribed to God the Father, the latter to the Holy Spirit ; and the blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is here assigned as the cause of their justification; and so the whole trinity con- curring dignify them with this their spiritual and happy estate. First, I shall discourse of these separately, and then of their connexion. 1. Of the state itself, and 1, of justifica- tion, though named last. This sprinkling has respect to the rite of the legal purification by the sprinkling of blood ; and that appositely, for these rites of sprinkling and blood did all point out this blood and this sprinkling, and exhibited this true ransoms of souls, which was only shad- owed by them. The use and end of sprinkling were puri- fication and expiation, because sin merited death, and the pollutions and stains of hu- man nature were by sin. Such is the pollu- tion, that it can be no manner of way wash- ed off* but by blood. (Heb. ix. 22.) Neither is there any blood able to purge from sin ex- cept the most precious blood of Jesus Christ, which is called (Acts xx. 28) the blood of God. That the stain of sin can be washed off only by blood, intimates that it merits death ; and that no blood, but that of the Son of God, can do it, intimates that this stain merits eternal death ; and it had been our portion, except the death of the eternal Lord of life had freed us from it. Fillhiness needs sprinkling ; guiltiness (such as deserves death) needs sprinkling of blood ; and the death it deserves being everlasting death, the blood must be the blood of Christ, the eternal Lord of life, dying to free us from the sentence of death. The soul (as the body) hath its life, its health, itB purity, and the contrary of these, — its death, diseases, deformities, and impu- rity— which belong to it as to their first sub- ject, and to the body by participation. The soul and body of all mankind are stained by the pollution of sin. The impure leprosy of the soul is not a spot outwardly, but wholly inward ; hence, as the corporal leprosy was purified by the sprinkling of blood, so is this. Then, by reflecting, we see how all this that the apostle St. Peter ex- presseth is necessary to justification. 1. Christ, the mediator betwixt God and man, is God and man. 2. A mediator not only interce- ding, but also satisfying (Eph. ii. 16). 3. This satisfaction doth not reconcile us, un- less it be applied : therefore there is not only mention of blood, but the sprinkling of it. The Spirit by faith sprinkleth the soul, as with hyssop, wherewith the sprinkling was made : this is it of which the prophet speaks (Isa. lii. 15), 8o shall he sprinkle many na- tions ; and which the apostle to the Hebrews prefers above all legal sprinklings (chap. ix. 12, 13, 14), both as to its duration and as to the excellency of its effects. Men are not easily convinced and per- suaded of the deep stain of sin, and that no other laver can fetch it out but the sprink- ling of the blood of Jesus Christ. Some who have moral resolutions of amendment, dis- like at least gross sins, and purpose to avoid them, and it is to them cleanness enough to reform in those things ; but they consider not what becomes of the guiltiness they have contracted already, and how that shall be purged, how their natural pollution shall be taken away. Be not deceived in this, it is not a transient sigh, or a light word, or a wish of God forgive me ; no, nor the high- est current oi repentance, nor that which is the truest evidence of repentance, amend- ment ; it is none of these that purify in the sight of God, and expiate wrath ; they are all imperfect and stained themselves, can not stand and answer for them.selves, much less be of value to counterpoise the former guilt of sin. The very tears of the purest repen- tance, unless they be sprinkled with this blood, are impure ; all our washings without this are but washings of the blackmoor — it is labor in vain. Jer. ii. 22 ; Job ix. 30, 31. There are none truly purified by the blood of Christ who do not endeavor after purity of heart and conversation ; but yet it is the blood of Christ by which they are all made fair, and there is no spot in them. Here it is said, elect io obedience ; but because that obedience is not perfect, there must be sprinkling of the blood too. There is nothing in religion further out of nature's reach, and out of its liking and believing, than the doctrine of redemption by a Savior, and a crucified Sa- vior,— by Christ, and by his blood, first shed on the cross in his suffering, and then sprin- kled on the soul by his spirit. It is easier to make men sensible of the necessity of repen- tance and amendment of life (though that Ver. 2.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 67 is very difficult), than of this purging by the sprinkling of this precious blood. Did we see how needful Christ is to us, we should esteem and love him more. It is not by the hearing of Christ and of his blood in the doctrine of the gospel ; it is not by the sprinkling of water, even that water which is the sign of this blood with- out the blood itself and the sprinkling of it. Many are present where it is sprinkled, and yet have no portion of it. Look to this, that this blood be sprinkled on your souls, that the destroying angel may pass by you. There is a generation (not some few, but a genera- tion) deceived in this ; they are their own deceivers, pure in their own eyes. (Prov. XXX. 12.) How earnestly doth David pray. Wash me, purge me with hyssop! Though bathed in tears (Psal. vi. 6) that satisfied not: Wash thou me. Tliis is the honorable condition of the saints, that they are puri- fied and consecrated unto G-od by this sprin- kling ; yea, they have on long white robes xoashed in the blood of the Lamb. There is mention indeed of great tribulation, but there is a double comfort joined with it. 1. They come out of it ; that tribulation hath an end. And, 2. They pass from that to glory ; for they have on the robe of candidotesy lojig white robes washed in the blood of the Lamb, washed white in blood. As for this blood, it is nothing but purity and spotlessness, be- ing stained with no sin, and besides hath that virtue to take away the stain of sin, where it IS sprinkled. My well-beloved is white and ruddy, saith the spouse ; thus in his death, ruddy by bloodshed, white by innocence and purity of that blood. Shall they then, who are purified by this blood, return to live among the swine, and tumble with them in the puddle ? What gross injury were this to themselves, and to that blood by which they are cleansed ! They who are chosen to this sprinkling, are like- wise chosen to obedience. This blood puri- fieth the heart ; yea, this blood purgeth our consciences from dead works to serve the liv- ing God. (Heb. ix. 14.) 2. Of their sanctification. Elect unto obe- dience^] It is easily understood to whom. When obedience to God is expressed by the simple absolute name of obedience, it teach- eth us that to him alone belongs absolute and unlimited obedience, all obedience by all creatures. It is the shame and misery of man, that he hath departed from this obe- dience, that we are become sons of disobe- dience ; but grace, renewing the hearts of believers, changeth their natures, and so their names, and makes them children of obedience (as afterward in this chapter). As this obe- dience consists in the receiving Christ as our Redeemer, so also at the same time as our lord or king ; there is an entire rendering up of the whole man to his obedience. This obedience, then, of the only-begotten Jesus Christ, may well be understood not as his actively, as Beza interprets it, but objectively, as 2 Cor. x. 5, I think here it is contained, yea chiefly understood to signify that obedi- ence which the apostle in the epistle to the B.omans calls the obedience of faith, by which the doctrine of Christ is received (and so Christ himself), which uniteth the believing soul to Christ — he sprinkles it with his blood, to the remission of sin — and which is the root and spring of all future obedience in the Christian life. By obedience, sanctification is here intima- ted ; it signifies then, both habitual and ac- tive obedience, renovation of heart, and con- formity to the divine will. The mind is illu- minated by the Holy Ghost, to know and believe the divine will ; yea, this faith is the great and chief part of obedience. (See Rom. i. 8.) The truth of the doctrine is first impressed on the mind ; hence flows out pleasant obedience, and full of love , hence all the aff'ections, and the whole body, with its members, learn to give a willing obedi- ence, and submit unto God ; whereas before they resisted him, being under the standard Satan. This obedience, though imperfect, yet hath a certain (if I may so say) imperfect perfec- tion. It is universal in three manner of ways. 1. In the subject. 2. In the object. 3. In the duration: the whole man is subjected to the whole law, and that constantly and per- severingly. The first universality is the cause of the other : because it is not in the tongue alone, or in the hand, fee, but has its root in the heart ; therefore it doth not wither as the grass, or flower lying on the surface of the earth, but it flourishes because rooted. And it embraces the whole law, because it arises from a reverence it has for the lawgiver himself Reverence, I say, but tempered with love ; hence, it accounts no law nor command little, or of small value, which is from God, because he is great and highly esteemed by the pious heart ; no command hard (though contrary to the flesh), because all things are easy to love. There is the same authority in all, as St. James divinely argues ; and this authority is the golden chain of all the commandments, which if broken in any link, all falls to pieces. That this threefold perfection of obedience is not a picture drawn by fancy, is evident in David, Psalm cxix., where he subjects him- self to the whole law ; his feet, ver. 105 ; his mouth, ver, 13 ; his heart, ver. 11 ; the whole tenor of his life, ver. 24. He subjects himself to the whole law, ver. 6, and he professes his constancy therein, in verses 16 and 33. Teach me the way of thy statutes, and I shalt keep it unto the end. II. We have the causes of the condition above described. According to the foreknowledge of God the Father.] The exactest knowledge of things is, to know them in their causes ; it is then 68 A COMMENTARY UPON THE LChap. L an excellent thing, and worthy of their en- deavors who are most desirous of knowledge, to know the best things in their highest causes; and the happiest way of attaining to this knowledge, is, to possess those things, and to know them in experience. To such persons the apostle here speaks, and sets be- fore them the excellency of their spiritual condition, and leads them to the causes of it. Their state is, that they are sanctified and justified : the nearest cause of both these is, Jesus Christ. He is made unto them both righteousness and sanctification : the sprink- ling of his blood purifies them from guilti- ness, and quickens them to obedience. The appropriating or applying cause comes next under consideration, which is the hohj, and holy-making or sanctifying spirit, the author of their selection from the world, and effectual calling unto grace. The source of all the appointing or decree- ing cause, is God the Father: for though they all work equally in all, yet, in order of working, we are taught thus to distinguish and particularly to ascribe the first work of eternal election to the first person of the blessed trinity. In or through sanctification.'] For to ren- der it, elect to the sanctification, is strained : so then I conceive this election is their effect- ual calling, which is by the working of the Holy Spirit : see 1 Cor. i'. 26-28, where voca- tion and election are used in the same sense : Ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, &c., but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise. It is the first act of de- cree of election ; the beginning of its per- formance in those that are elected ; and it is in itself a real separating of men from the profane and miserable condition of the world, and an appropriating and consecrating of a man unto God ; and therefore, both in re- gard of its relation to election, and in regard of its own nature, it well bears that name. Sec Rom. viii. 28, 30 ; Acts ii. 47, and xiii. 48 ; John xv. 19. Sanctification in the narrower sense as dis- tinguished from justification, signifieth the inherent holiness of a Christian, or his being inclined and enabled to perform the obedience mentioned in this verse ; but it has here a sense more large, and is co-extended with the whole work of renovation ; it is the severing or separating of men to God, by his Holy Spirit, drawing them unto him ; and so it compre- hends justification (as here) and the first working of faith, by which the soul is justi- fied, through its apprehending and applying the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Of the Spirit.] The word calls men exter- nally, and by that external calling prevails with many to an external receiving and pro- fessing of religion ; but if it be left alone it goes no farther. It is indeed the means of sanctification and effectual calling, as John xvii. 17, Sanctify them through thy truth ; but this it doth when the spirit, which speaks in the word, works in the heart, and causes it to hear and obey. The spirit or soul of a man is the chief and the first subject of this work, and it is but slight false work that be- gins not there ; but the spirit here is to be taken for the spirit of God, the efficient, rather than for the spirit of man, the subject of this sanctification. And therefore our Sa- vior m that place prays to the Father, that he would sanctify his own by that truth ; and this he doeth by the concurrence of his Spirit with that word of truth which is the life and vigor of it, and makes it prove the power of God unto salvation to them that believe. It is a fit means in itself, but it is a prevailing means only when the spirit of God brings it into the heart. It is a sword, and sharper than a two-edged sword fit to divide, yea, even to the dividin o^ of soul and spirit ; but this it doth not, unless it be in the Spirit's hand, and he apply it to this cutting and dividing. The word calls, but the spirit draws, not sever- ed from that word, but working in it, and by it. It is very difficult work to draw a soul out of the hands and strong chains of Satan, and out of the pleasing entanglements of the world, and out of its own natural perverse- ness, to yield up itself unto God — to deny itself, and live to him, and in so doing, to run against the main stream, and the current of the ungodly world without, and corrup- tion within. The strongest rhetoric, the most moving and persuasive way of discourse, is all too weak ; the tongue of men or angels can not prevail with the soul to free itself, and shake off all that detains it. Although it be con- vinced of the truth of those things that are represented to it, yet still it can and will hold cut against it, and say, Non persuadebis eti- amsi persuaseris. The hand of man is too weak to pluck any soul out of the crowd of the world, and to set it in among the select number of believers. Only the Father of Spirits hath absolute command of spirits, viz., the souls of men, to Avork on them as he pleaseth, and where he Avill. This powerful, this sanctifying Spirit knows no resistance ; works sweetly, and yet strongly ; it can come into the heart, whereas all other speakers are forced to stand without. That still voice within persuades more than all the loud crying without ; as he that is within the house, though he speaks low, is better heard and understood, than he that shouts without doors. When the Lord himself speaks by this his Spirit to a man, selecting and calling him out of the lost world, he can no more diso- bey than Abraham did, when the Lord spoke to him after an extraordinary manner, to de- part from his own country and kindred : Abraham departed as the Lord had spoken to him. Gen. xii. 4. There is a secret, but very powerful virtue in a word, or look, or touch of this Spirit upon the soul, by which it is Ver. 2.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 69 forced not with a harsh, but a pleasing^ vio- lence, and can not choose but follow it, not unlike that of Elijah's mantle upon Elisha. How easily did the disciples forsake their callings and their dwellings to follow Christ ! The Spirit of God draws a man out of the world by a sanctihed light sent into his mind, 1. Discovering to him, how base and false the sweetness of sin is, which withholds men and amuses them, that they return not ; and how true and sad the bitterness is that will follow upon it ; 2. Setting before his eyes the free and happy condition, the glorious liberty of the sons of God, the riches of their present enjoyment, and their far larger and assured hopes for hereafter ; 3. Making the beauty of Jesus Christ visible to the soul ; which straightway takes it so, that it can not be stayed from coming to him, though its most beloved friends, most beloved sins, lie in the way, and hang about it, and cry. Will you leave us so ? It will tread upon all to come within the embraces of Jesus Christ, and say with St. Paul, I teas not disobedient to {or unpersuaded by) the heavenly vision. It is no wonder that the godly are by some called singular and precise ; they are so, sin- gular, a few selected ones picked out by God's own hand, for himself: Know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for himself, Psalm iv. 3. Therefore, saith our Savior, the world hates you, because I have chosen you out of the world. For the world lies in unholiness and wickedness — is buried in it ; and as living men can have no pleasure among the dead, neither can these elected ones among the ungodly : they walk in the world as Avarily as a man or woman neatly apparelled would do among a multitude that are all sullied and bemired. Endeavor to have this sanctifying Spirit in yourselves; pray much for it ; for his promise IS passed to us, that He will give this Holy Spirit to them that ask it. And shall we be such fools as to want it, for want of asking ? When we find heavy fetters on our souls, and much weakness, yea, averseness to fol- low the voice of God calling us to his obedi- ence, then let us pray with the Spouse, Draw me. She can not go nor stir without that drawing ; and yet, with it, not only goes, but runs. We will run after thee. Think it not enough that you hear the word, and use the outward ordinances of God, and profess his name ; for many are thus called, and yet but a few of them are chosen. There is but small part of the world outwardly called, in comparison of the rest that is not so, and yet the number of the true elect is so small, that it gains the num- ber of these that are called, the name of many. They who are in the visible church, and partake of external vocation, are but like a large list of names (as in civil elections is usual), out of which a small number is cho- sen to the dignity of true Christians, and in- vested into their privilege. Some men in nomination to offices or employments, think it a worse disappointment and disgrace to have been in the list, and yet not chosen, than if their names had not been nientioned at all. Certainly it is a greater unhappiness to have been not far from the kingdom of God (as our Savior speaks), and miss of it, than still to have remained in the farthest dis- tance ; to have been at the mouth of the haven (the fair havens indeed), and yet driv- en back and shipwrecked. Your labor is most preposterous ; you seek to ascertain and make sure thmgs that can not be made sure, and that which is both more worth, and may be made surer than them all, you will not endeavor to make sure. Hearken to the apostle's advice, and at length set about this in earnest, to make your calling and election sure. Make sure this election, as it is here (for that is the order), your effectual calling sure, and that will bring with it assurance of the other, the eternal election and love of God toward you, which follows to be consid- ered. According to the foreknowledge of God the Father.] Known unto God are all his works from the beginning, saith the apostle James. Acts XV. 18. He sees all things from the be- ginning of time to the end of it, and beyond to all eternity, and from all eternity he did foresee them. But this foreknowledge here relates peculiarly to the elect. Verba sensus in sacra scriptura denotant affectus, as the Rabbins remark. So in man, Psal. Ixvi., If I see iniquity ; and in God, Psal. i. 6, For the Lord knoiceth the way o f the righteous, &:c. And again, Amos iii. 2, You only have I known of all the families of the earth, fcc. And in that speech of our Savior, relating it as the terrible doom of reprobates at the last day. Depart, &c., / know you noty I never knew you. So St. Paul, Rom. vii. 15, For that which I do, I allow [Gr. know] not. And Beza observes that yiv:>a~eiv is by the Greeks sometimes taken for decernere, judicare ; thus some speak, to congnosce upon a busi- ness. So then this foreknowledge is no other than that eternal love of God, or decree of election, by whicb some are appointed unto life, and being foreknown or elected to that end, they are predestinate to the way to it. For whom he did foreknow, he also did pre- destinate to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might he the first-born among many brethren. Rom. viii. 29. It is most vain to imagine a foresight of faith in men, and that God in the view of that faith, as the condition of election it- self, as it is called, has chosen them : for, 1. Nothing at all isfuturwn, or can have that imagined futurition, but as it is, and because it is decreed by God to be ; and, therefore (as says the Apostle St. James, in the pas- sage before cited). Known unto God are all his works, because they are his works in time, and his purpose from eternity. 2. It is most absurd to give any reason of Divine 70 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. will without himself. 3. This supposiiion easily solves all the difficulty which the apos- tle speaks of; and yet he never thought of such a solution, but runs high for an answer, not to satisfy cavilling reason, but to silence it, and stop its mouth : for thus the apostle argues, Rom. ix. 19, 20: Thou wilt say then unto me. Why doth he yet find fault ; for who hath resisted his ivill ? Nay, but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God ? Who can conceive whence this should be, that any man should believe, unless it be given him of God ? And if given him, then it was his purpose to give it him ; and if so, then is evident that he had a purpose to save him ; and for that end he gives faith : not therefore purposes to save, because man shall believe. 4. This seems cross to these Scriptures, where they speak of the subordi- nation, or rather co-ordination, of those two: as here, foreknown and elect, not because of obedience, or sprinkling, or any such thing, but to obedience and sprinkling which is by faith. So God predestinated, not because he foresaw men would be conformed to Christ, but that they might be so. Rom. viii. 29, For whom he did foreknow he also did pre- destinate. And the same order is observable. Acts ii. 47, And the Lord added to the Church daily such as should be saved. Also xiii. 48, And as many as were ordained to eternal life believed. This foreknowledge, then, is his eternal and exchangeable love ; and that thus he chooseth some, and rejectelh others, is for that great end, to manifest and magnify his mercy and justice : but why he appointed this man for the one, and that man for the other, made Peter a vessel of this mercy, and Judas of wrath, this is even so, because it seemed good to him. This, if it be harsh, yet is apostolic doctrine. Bath not the potter (saith St. Paul) power over the same lump, to make one vessel unto honor and another unto dis- honor ? This deep we must admire, and al- ways, in considering it, close with this : O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdomand knowl- edge of God ! III. The connexion of these we are now for our profit to take notice of ; that effectual calling is inseparably tied to this eternal fore- knowledge or election on the one side, and to salvation on the other. These two links of the chain are up in heaven in God's own hand ; but this middle one is let down to earth into the hearts of his children, and they, laying hold on it, have sure hold on the other two, for no power can sever them. If, therefore, they can read the characters of God's image in their own souls, those are the counter-part of the golden characters of his love, in which their names are written in the book of life. Their believing writes their names under the promises of the revealed book of life, the Scriptures, and so ascertains them, that the same names are in the secret book of life which God hath by himself from eternity. So that finding the stream of grace in their hearts, though they see not the fountain whence it flows, nor the ocean into which it returns, yet they know that it liath its source, and shall return to that ocean which ariseth from their eternal election, and shall empty itself into that eternity of happiness and salva- tion. Hence much joy ariseth to the believer : this tie is indissoluble, as the agents are, the Father, the Son, and the Spirit : so are elec- tion, and vocation, and sanctification, and justification, and glory. Therefore, in all conditions, believers may, from a sense of the working of the Spirit in them, look back to that election, and forward to that salvation; but they that remain unholy and disobedient, have as yet no evidence of this love ; and therefore can not, without vain presumption and self-delusion, judge thus of themselves, that they are within the peculiar love of God. But in this, Let the righteous be glad, and let them shout for joy, all that are upright in heart. It is one main point of happiness, that he that is happy doth know and judge himself to be so : this being the peculiar good of a reasonable creature, it is to be enjoyed in a reasonable way ; it is not as the dull resting of a stone, or any other natural body in its natural place ; but the knowledge and con- sideration of it is the fruition of it, the very relishing and tasting its sweetness. The perfect blessedness of the saints is awaiting them above ; but even their present condition is truly happy, though incompletely, and but a small beginning of that which they expect. And this their present happiness is so much the greater the more clear knowl- edge and firm persuasion they have of it. It is one of the pleasant fruits of the godly, to know the things that are freely given them of God, 1 Cor. ii. 12. Therefore the apostle, to comfort his dispersed brethren, sets before them a description of that excellent spiritual condition to which they are called. If election, effectual calling, and salvation, be inseparably linked together, then, by any one of them a man may lay hold upon all the rest, and may know that his hold is sure : and this is that way v/herein we may attain, and ought to seek, that comfortable assurance of the love of God. Therefore make your calling sure, and by that, your election; for that being done, this follows of itself. We are not to pry immediately into the decree, but to read it in the performance. Though the mariner sees not the pole-star, yet the needle of the com- pass which points to it, tells him which way he sails: thus the heart that is touched with the loadstone of Divine love, trembling with godly fear, and yet still looking toward God by fixed believing, points at the love of elec- tion, and tells the soul that its course is heavenward, toward the haven of eternal rest. He that loves may be sure he was loved first ; and he that chooses God for his delight Ver. 2.] FIRST EPISTLE Of PETER. 71 and portion may conclude confidently that God liath chosen him to be one of those that shall enjoy him, and be happy in him for ever; for that our love and electing: of him is but the return and repercussion of the beams of his love shining upon us. Find thou but within thee sanctification by the Spirit, and this argues, necessarily, both justification by the Son, and the election of God the Father. Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. 1 John iv. 13. It is a'most strange demonstration, ab effectu rcciproco : he called those he hath elected ; he elected those he called. Where this sanctifying Spirit is not, there can be no persuasion of this eternal love of God : they that are children of disobedience can conclude no otherwise of themselves but that they are the children of ivrath. Although, from present unsanctifica- tion, a man can not infer that he is not elected ; for the decree may, for a part of man's life, run (as it were) under ground ; yet this is sure, that the estate leads to death, and un- less it be broken, will prove the black line of reprobation. A man hath no portion among the children of God, nor can read one word of comfort in all the promises that belong to them, while he remains unholy. Men may please themselves in profane scoffing at the holy Spirit of grace, but let them withal know this, that that holy Spirit, whom they mock and despise, is that Spirit who seals men to the day of redemption. Ephes. iv. 30. If any pretend that they have the Spirit, and so turn away from the straight rule of the holy Scriptures, they have a spirit indeed, but it is a fanatical spirit, the spirit of delusion and giddiness ; but the Spirit of God, that leads his children in the way of truth, and is for that purpose sent them from heaven to guide them thither, squares their thoughts and ways to that rule whereof it is author, and that word which was inspired by it, and sanctifies them to obedience. He that saith^ I know him, and keepeth not his command meyits, is a liar, and the truth is not in him-. 1 John ii. 5. Now this Spirit which sanctifieth, and sanctifieth to obedience, is within us the evidence of our election, and the earnest of our salvation. And whoso are not sanctified and led by this Spirit, the apostle tells us what is their condition. Rom. viii. 9. Jf any man have not the Spirit of Christ he is none of his. Let us not delude ourselves : this is a truth, if there be any in religion ; they who are not made saints in the state of grace shall never be saints in glory. The stones Avhich are appointed for that glorious temple above are hewn and polished, and prepared for it here ; as the stones were wrought and prepared in the mountains for building the temple at Jerusalem. This is God's order : Psalm Ixxxiv. 12. He gives grace and glory. Moralists can tell us, that the way to the temple of honor is through the temple of virtue. They that think they are bound for heaven in the ways of sin have either found a new way untrodden by all that are gone thither, or will find themselves deceived in the end. We need not then that poor shift for the pressing of holiness and obedience upon men, to represent it to them as the meriting cause of salvation. This is not at all to the purpose, seeing that without it the necessity of holiness to salvation is pres- sing enough ; for holiness is no less necessary to salvation, than if it were the meriting cause of it ; it is as inseparably tied to it in the purpose of God. And in the order of perform- ance, godliness is as certainly before salva- tion as if salvation did wholly and altogether depend upon it, and were in point of justice deserved by it. Seeing, then, there is no other way to happiness but by holiness, no assurance of the love of God without it, take the apostle's advice ; study it, seek it, follow earnestly after holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord. Grace unto you and peace be multiplied. ] It hath always been a civil custom among men, to season their intercouse with good wishes one for another ; this the apostles use in their epistles in a spiritual divine way, suitable to their holy writings. It well be- comes the messengers of grace and peace, to wish both, and to make their salutation con- form to the main scope and subject of their dis- course. The Hebrew word of salutation we have here — Peace, and that which is the spring both of this and all good things, in the other word of salutation used by the Greeks — Grace. All right rejoicing and prosperity, and happi- ness, flow from this source, and from this alone, and are sought elsewhere in vain. In general, this is the character of a Chris- tian spirit to have a heart filled with bles- sing, with this sweet good-will and good- wishing to all, especially to those who are their brethren in the same profession of re- ligion. And this charity is a precious balm, diffusing itself in the wise and seasonable expressions of it, upon fit occasions ; and those expressions must be cordial and sincere, not like w^hat you call court holy-water, in which there is nothing else but falsehood, c^r vanity at the best. This manifests men to be the sons of blessing, and of the ever-bles- sed God, the father of all blessing, when in his name they bless one another : yea, our Savior's rule goes higher, to bless those that curse them, and urges it by that relation to God as their Father, that in this they may resemble him : That ye may be the children of your Father u'hich is in heaven. But in a more eminent way it is the duty of pastors to bless their people, not only by their public and solemn benediction, but by daily and instant prayers for them in secret. And the great Father, who seeth in secret, will reward them openly. They are to be ever both endeavoring and 72 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. wishing their increase of knowledge and all spiritual grace, in which they have in St. Paul a frequent pattern. They who are messengers of this grace, if they have experience of it, it is the oil of gladness that will dilate their heart, and make it large in love and spiritual desires for others, especially their own flocks. Let us consider, 1. The matter of the apos- tle's desire for them — grace and peace. 2. The measure of it — that it may be multiplied. \st. The matter of the apostle's desire, Grace. We need not make a noise with the many school-distinctions of grace, and de- scribe in what sense it is here to be taken : for no doubt it is 2\\-saving grace to those dispersed brethren, so that in the largest no- tion which it can have that way, we may safely here take it. What are preventing grace, assisting grace, icorking and co-working grace (as we may admit these differences in a sound sense), but divers names of the same effec- tual saving grace, in relation to our different estate ? as the same sea receives different names from the different parts of the shore it beats upon. First, it prevents and works ; then it assists and prosecutes what it hath wrought: He worketh in us to will and to do. But the whole sense of saving grace, I conceive is comprehended in these two. 1. Grace in the fountain, that is, the peculiar love and favor of God. 2. Grace in the streams, the fruits of this love (for it is not unempty, but a most rich and liberal love), viz., all the grace and spiritual blessings of God bestowed upon them whom he hath freely chosen. The love of God in itself can neither diminish nor increase, but it is multi- plied, or abounds in the manifestation and effects of it. So then, to desire grace to be multiplied to them, is to wish to them the living sprmg of it, that love which can not be exhausted, but is ever flowing forth, and instead of abating, makes each day richer than the preceding. And this is that which should be the top and sum of Christian desires — to have, or want any other thing indifferently, but to be resolved and resolute in this, to seek a share in this grace, the free love of God, and the sure evidences of it within you, the fruit of holiness, and the graces of his Spirit. But the most of us are otherwise taken up : we will not be convinced how basely and fool- ishly we are busied, though in the best and most respected employments of the world, so long as we neglect, our noblest trade of growing rich in grace, and the cooifortable enjoyment of the love of God. Our Savior tells us of one thing needful, importing that all other things are comparatively unneces- sary, by works, and mere imperiinencies ; and yet in these we lavish out our short and uncertain time ; we let the other stand by till we find leisure. Men, who are altogether profane, think not on it at all. Some others possibly deceive themselves thus, and say, When I have done with such a business in which I am engaged, then I will sit down seriously to this, and bestow more time and pains on these things, which are undeniably greater and better, and more Avorthy of it. But this is a slight that is in danger to undo us. What if we attain not to the end of that business, but end ourselves before it ? Or if Ave do not, yet some other business may step in after that. Oh then, say we, that must be despatched also. Thus, by such de- lays, we may lose the present opportunity, and in the end, our own souls. Oh! be persuaded it deservcis your dili- gence, and that without delay, to seek some- what that may be constant enough to abide with you, and strong enough to uphold you in all conditions, and that is alone this free grace and love of God. While many say, Who will shoiv us any good ? set you in with David in his choice. Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon me, and this shall rejoice my heart more than the abun- dance of corn and wine. Psalm iv, 6, 7. I This is that light which can break into the darkest dungeons, from which all other lights and comforts are shut out ; and with- out this, all other enjoyments are, what the world Avould be without the sun, nothing but darkness. Happy they Avho have this light of Divine favor and grace shining into their souls, for by it they shall be led to that city, where the sun and moon are needless ; for The glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. Rev, xxi. 23. Godliness is profitable for all things, saith the apostle, having the promises of this life and that which is to come ; all other bles- sings are the attendants of grace, and follow upon it. This blessing which the apostle here (as St. Paul also in his Epistles) joins with grace, was, with the Jews, of so large a sense, as to comprehend all that they could desire ; when they wished peace, they meant all kind of good, all welfare and prosperity. And thus Ave may take it here, for all kind of peace; yea, and for all other blessings, but especially that spiritual peace, Avhich is the proper fruit of grace, and doth so intrin- sically flow from it. We may and ought to wish to the church of God outAvard blessings, and particularly outAvard peace, as one of the greatest, and one of the most valuable favors of God : thus prayed the psalmist. Peace be within thy icalls, and prosperity withi?i thy palaces. That Wisdom which doth what he will, by Avhat means he Avill, and works one con- trariety out of another, brings light out of darkness, good out of evil — can and doth turn tears and troubles to the advantage of his church ; but certainly, in itself, peace is more suitable to its increase, and, if not abused, it proves so too. Thus in the apostolic times, it is said. Acts ix. 31, The church had peace, and increased exceedingly. Ver. 2.] -FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 73 We ought also to wish for ecclesiastical peace to the church, that she may be free from dissensions and divisions. These read- ily arise, more or less, as we see, in all times, and haunt religion, and the reformation of it, as a malus genius. St. Paul had this to say to his Corinthians, 1 Ep. i. 5. though he had given them this testimony, that they were enriched in all utterance and knowledge, and were wanting in no gift, yet, presently after, ver. 13, Ihear that there are divisions and con- tentions among you. The enemy had done this, as our Savior speaks ; and this enemy is no fool, for, by Divine permission, he works to his own end very wisely ; there is not one thing that doth on all hands choke the seed of religion so much, as thorny debates and differences about itself So, in succeeding ages, and at the breaking forth of the light in Germany, in Luther's time, multitudes of sects arose. Profane men do not only stumble,but fall and break their necks upon these divisions. We see, (think they, and some of them possibly say it out), that they who mind religion most, can not agree upon it : our easiest way is, not to embroil ourselves, not at all to be troubled with the business. Many are of Gallio's temper ; they will care for none of those things. Thus these offences prove a mis- chief to the profane world, as our Savior says. Wo to the world because of offences. Then those on the erring side, who are taken with new opinions and fancies, are al- together taken up with them, their main thoughts are spent upon them ; and thus the sap is drawn from that which should nour- ish and prosper in their heSiVts, sanctified use- ful knowledge, and saving grace. The other are as weeds, which divert the nourishment in gardens from the plants and flowers ; and certainly these weeds, viz., men's own con- ceits, can not but grow more with them, when they give way to them, than solid re- ligion doth ; for their hearts (as one said of the earth) are mother to those, and but step- mother to this. It is also a loss even to those that oppose errors and divisions, that they are forced to be busied in that way ; for the wisest and godliest of them find (and such are sensible of it) that disputes in religion are no friends to that Avhich is far sweeter in it ; but hin- ders and abates it, viz., those pious and de- vout thoughts, that are both the more useful and truly delightful. As peace is a choice blessing, so this is the choicest peace, and is the peculiar insepara- ble effect of this grace with which it is here jointly wished — grace and -peace ; the flower of peace growing upon the root of grace ; This spiriual peace hath two things in it. 1. Reconciliation with God. 2. Tranquillity of spirit. The quarrel and matter of enmity, you know, betwixt God and man, is the re- bellion, the sin of man ; and he being natur- ally altogether sinful, there can proceed noth- 10 ing from hira, but what foments and increas- es the hostility. It is grace alone, the most free grace of God, that contrives, and offers, and makes the peace, else it had never been ; we had universally perished without it. Now in this consists the wonder of Divine grace, that the Almighty God seeks agree- ment, and entreats for it, with sinful clay, which he could wholly destroy in a moment. Jesus Christ, the Mediator and purchaser of this peace, bought it with his blood, kill- ed the enmity by his own death, Eph. ii. 15. And therefore the tenor of it in the gospel runs still in his name (Rom. v. 1) : We have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord ; and St. Paul expresses it in his salu- tations, which are the same with this, Grace and peace from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ. As the free love and grace of God appoint- ed this means and way of our peace, 9 .id of- fered it — so the same grace applies it, and makes it ours, and gives us faith to appre- hend it. And from our sense of this peace, or rec- oncilement with God, arises that which is our inward peace, a calm and quiet temper of mind. This peace which we have with God in Christ, is inviolable ; but because the sense and persuasion of it may be interrupt- ed, the soul that is truly at peace with God may for a time be disquieted in itself, through weakness of faith, or the strength of tempt- ation, or the darkness of desertion, losing sight of that grace, that love and light of God's countenance, on which its tranquillity and joy depend. Thou didst hide thy face, saith Ba-vid, and I was troubled. But when these eclipses are over, the soul is revived with new consolation, as the face of the earth is renewed and made to smile with tlie return of the sun in the spring ; and this ought alway to uphold Christians in the sad- dest times, viz., that the grace and love of God toward them depend not on their sense, nor upon anything in them, but is still in it- self incapable of the smallest alteration. It is natural to men to desire their own peace, the quietness and contentment of their minds : bui most men miss the way to it ; and therefore find it not ; for there is no way' to it, indeed, but this one, wherein few seek it, viz., reconcilement and peace with God. The persuasion of that alone makes the mind clear and serene, like your fairest sum- mer days. My peace I give you, saith Christ, not as the world. Let not your hearts be troubled. All the peace and favor of the world can not calm a troubled heart ; but where this peace is which Christ gives, all the trouble and disquiet of the world can not disturb it. When he giveth quietness, who then can make trouble ? and when he hideth his face, who then can behold him ? whether it be done against a nation or against a man only. (See also for this. Psalms xlvi., cxxiii.) All outward distress to a mind thus at peace, 74 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. is but as the rattling of the hail upon the ' tiles, to him that sits within the house at a sumptuous feast. A g-ood conscience is styl- ed a feast, and with an advantage which no other feast can have, nor, Avere it possible, could men endure it. A few hours of feast- ing will weary the most professed epicure ; but a conscience thus at peace, is a contin- ual feast, with continual unwearied delight. What makes the world take up such a preju- dice against religion as a sour unpleasant thing? They see the afflictions and griefs of Christians, but they do not see their joys, the inward pleasure of mind that they can possess in a very hard estate. Have you not tried other ways enough ? Hath not he tried them who had more ability and skill for it than you, and found them not only vanityhm vexation of spirit ? If you have any belief of holy truth, put but this once upon the tri- al, . seek peace in the way of grace. This inward peace is too precious a liquor to be poured into a filthy vessel. A holy heart, that gladly entertains grace, shall find that it and peace can not dwell asunder. An ungodly man may sleep to death in the lethargy of carnal presumption and impeni- tency ; but a true, lively, solid peace, he can not have. There is no peace to the wicked, saith my God, Isa. Ivii. 21. And if he say there is none, speak peace who will, if all the world with one voice should speak it, it shall prove none. 2dly. Consider the measure of the apos- tle's desire for his scattered brethren, that this grace and peace may be multiplied. This the apostle wishes for them, knowing the imperfection of the graces and peace of the saints while they are here below ; and this they themselves, under a sense of that imperfection, ardently desire. They that have tasted the sweetness of this grace and peace, call incessantly for more. This is a disease in earthly desires, and a disease in- curable by all the things desired; there is no satisfaction attainable by them ; but this av- arice of spiritual things is a virtue, and by our Savior is called blessedness, because it tends to fulness and satisfaction. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after right- eousness, for they shall be filled. Ver. 3. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his abundant mer- cy, hath begotten us again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Ver. 4. To an inheritance incorruptible, and unde- filed, and that fadeth not away. It is a cold lifeless thing to speak of spiritual things upon mere report : but they that speak of them as their own, as having share and interest in them, and some experience of their sweetness, their discourse of them is enlivened with firm belief, and ardent affec- tion ; they can not mention them, but their hearts are straight taken with such gladness, as they are forced to vent in praises. Thus our apostle here, and St. Paul, and often elsewhere, when they considered these things wherewith they were about to comfort the godly to whom they wrote, they were sud- denly elevated with the joy of them, and broke forth into thanksgiving; so teaching us, by their example, what real joy there is in the consolations of the Gospel, and what praise is due from all the saints to the God of those consolations. This is such an in- heritance, that the very thoughts and hopes of it are able to sweeten the greatest grief and afflictions. What then shall the posses- sion of it be, wherein there shall be no rup- ture, nor the least drop of any grief at all ? The main subject of these verses is, that which is the main comfort that supports the spirits of the godly in all conditions. 1. Their after inheritance, as in the 4th verse. 2dly, Their present title to it, and assured hope of it, ver. 3. 3dly, The imme- diate cause of both assigned.viz., Jesus Christ. 4thly, All this derived from the free mercy of God, as the first and highest cause, and returned to his praise and glory as the last and highest end of it. For the frst : The inheritance. [But be- cause the 4th verse, which describes it, is linked with the subsequent, we will not go so far off to return back again, but first speak to this 3d verse, and in it.] Consider 1. Their title to this inheritance, begotten again ; 2. Their assurance of it, viz., a holy or lively hope. The title which the saints have to their rich inheritance is of the validest and most unquestionable kind, viz., by birth. Not by their first natural birth ; but that we are all born indeed, but we find what it is (Ephes. ii. 3), children of wrath, heirs apparent of eternal flames. It is an everlasting inherit- ance too, but so much the more fearful, be- ing of everlasting misery, or (so to speak) of immortal death ; and we are made sure to it, they who remain in that condition can not lose their right, although they gladly would escape it ; they shall be forced to en- ter possession. But it is by a new and super- natural birth that men are both freed from their engagement to that woful inheritance, and invested into the rights of this other here mentioned, which is as full of happi- ness as the former is miserable : therefore are they said here to be begotten again to that lively hope. God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, hath begotten us again. And thus the regenerate are the children of an immortal Father, and, as such, entitled to an inheritance of immortality. If chil dren, then heirs, heirs of God ; and this son ship is by adoption in Christ ; therefore it ia added. Joint heirs with Christ, Pvom. viii. 17. We adopted children, and he the only begot- ten Son of God by an eternal, ineffable gen- eration. And yet, this our adoption is not a mere extrinsical denomination, as is adoption among men ; but is accompanied with a real Ver. 3, 4.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 75 change in those that are adopted, a new na- ture and spirit being infused into them, by reason of which, as they are adopted to this their inheritance in Christ, they are likewise begotten of God, and born again to it, by the supernatural work of regeneration. They are like their heavenly Father ; they have his image renewed on their souls, and their Father's spirit ; they have it, and are actua- ted and led by it. This is that great mystery of the kingdom of God which puzzled Nico- demus ; it was darkness to him at first, till he was instructed in that night, under the covert whereof he came to Christ. Nature can not conceive of any generaiion or birth, but that which is within its own compass : only they who are partakers of this spiritual birth understand what it means ; to others it is a riddle, an unsavory, unpleas- ant subject. It is sometimes ascribed to the subordinate means ; — to baptism, called therefore the laver of regeneration, Titus iii. 5 ; to the word of God, James i. 18 ; it is that immor- tal seed, whereby we are born again ; to the ministers of his word, and the seals of it, as 1 Cor. iv. 15. For though you have ten thousand instructers in Christ, yet have ye not many fathers ; for in Christ Jesus have I begotten you through the gospel ; as also Gal. iv. 19. But all these means have their vigor and efficacy in this great work from the Father of spirits, who is their Father in their first creation, and infusion, and in this their regeneration, which is a new and second cre- ation, If any man he in Christ he is a new creature, 2 Cor. v. 17. Divines have reason to infer from the na- ture of conversion thus expressed, that man doth not bring anything to this work him- self. It is true he hath a will, as his natural faculty ; but that this will embraces the offer of grace, and turns to him that offers it, is from renewing grace, which sweetly and yet strongly, strongly yet sweetly, inclines it. 1. Nature can not raise itself to this any more than a man can give natural being to himself. 2. It is not a superficial change ; it is a new life and being. A moral man in his changes and reformations of himself, is still the same man. Though he reform so far, as that men, in their ordinary phrase, shall call him quite another man, yet, in truth, till he be born again, there is no new nature in him. The sluggard turns on his bed as the door on the hinges, says Solomon. Thus the natural man turns from one custom and posture to another, but never turns off. But the Christian, by virtue of this new birth, can say indeed. Ego non sum ego, I am not the same man I was. You that are nobles, aspire to this honora- ble condition ; add this nobleness to the other, for it far surpasses it ; make it the crown of all your honors and advantages. And you that are of mean birth, or if you have any stain on your birth, the only way to make up | and repair all, and truly to ennoble you, is this — to be the sons of a king, yea, of the king of kings, and this honor have all his saints. To as many as received him, he gave this privilege to be the sons of God, John i. 12. Unto a lively hope.] Now are we the sons of God, saith the apostle (1 John iii. 2), but it doth not yet appear what we shall he. These sons are heirs, but all this lifetime is their minority; yet, even now, being partakers of this new birth and sonship, they have a right to it, and in the assurance of that right, this living hope ; as an heir, when he is capable of those thoughts, hath not only right of in- heritance, but may rejoice in the hope he hath of it, and please himself in thinking of it. But hope is said to be only in respect of an uncertain good : true, in the world's phrase, it is so ; for their hope is conversant in uncer- tain things, or in things that may be certain, after an uncertain manner ; all their worldly hopes are tottering, built upon sand, and their hopes of heaven are but blind and ground- less conjectures ; but the hope of the sons of the living God is a living hope. That which Alexander said when he dealt liberally about him, that he left hope to himself, the children of God may more wisely and happily say, when they leave the hot pursuit of the world to others, and despise it ; their portion is hope. The thread of Alexander's life was cut off in the midst of his victories, and so all his hopes vanished ; but their hope can not die nor disappoint them. But then it is said to be lively not only ob- jectively but effectively ; enlivening and com- forting the children of God in all distresses, enabling them to encounter and surmount all difficulties in the way. And then it is for- mally so ; it can not fail — dies not before ac- complishment. Worldly hopes often mock men, and so cause them to be ashamed ; and men take ii as a great blot, and are most of all ashamed of those things that discover weakness of judgment in them. Now Avorldly hopes do thus — they put the fool upon a man : when he hath judged himself sure, and laid so much weight and expectation on them, then they break and foil him: they are not living, but lying hopes, and dying hopes ; they die often before us, and we live to bury them, and see our own folly and infelicity in trusting to them ; but at the utmost, they die with us when we die, and can accompany us no further. But this hope answers expecta- tion to the full, and much beyond it, and de- ceives no way but in that happy way of far exceeding it. A living hope — living in death itself ! The world dares say no more for its device, than Dum spiro spero ; but the children of God can add by virtue of this living hope. Bum exspiro spero. It is a fearful thing when a man and all his hopes die together. Thus saith Solomon of the wicked, Prov. xi. 7 : When he dieth, then die his hopes (many of them before, but at the utmost then, all of 76 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. them) ; but the righteous hath hope in his death, Prov. xiv. 32. Death, which cuts the sinews of al] other hopes, and turns men out of all other inheritances, alone fulfils this hope, and ends it in fruition ; as a messenger sent to bring ihe children of God home to the possession of their inheritance. By the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.] This refers both to begotten again by his resurrection, and having this living hope by his resurrection : and well suits both, it being the proper cause of both in this or- der. First, then, of the birth ; next, of the hope. The image of God is renewed in us by our union with Him who is the express image of his Father s person, Heb. i. 3. Therefore this new birth in the conception, is express- ed by the f orming of Christ in the soul. Gal. iv. 19 ; and his resurrection particularly is assigned as the cause of our new life. This new birth is called our resurrection, and that in conformity to Christ, yea, by the virtue and influence of his. His resurrection is called a birth, he the first begotten from the dead. Rev. i. 5 ; and that prophecy. Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee, Psal. ii. 7, is applied to his resurrection as fulfilled in it, Acts xiii. 33. God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again ; as it is also written in the second Psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. Not only is it the exemplar, but the efficient cause of our new birth. Thus, in the sixth chapter of Ro- mans, at large, and often elsewhere. And thus likewise it is the cause of our living hope — that which indeed inspires and maintains life in it. Because he hath con- quered death, and is risen again, and that is implied which followeth, he is set down at the right hand of God, hath entered into pos- session of that inheritance ; — this gives us a living hope, that, according to his own re- quest, where he ts there we may be also. Thus this hope is strongly underset, on the one side, by the resurrection of Christ ; on the other, by the abundant mercy of God the Father. Our hope depends not on our own strength or wisdom, nor on anything in us (for if it did, it would be short-lived, would die, and die quickly) ; but on his resurrection who can die no more : for in that he died, he died unto sin once ; but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God, Rom. vi. 10. This makes this hope not to imply, in the notion of it, uncertainty, as worldly hopes do ; but it is a firm, stable, inviolable hope, an anchor fixed within the veil. According to his abundant mercy.] Mercy is the spring of all this; yea, great mercy, and manifold mercy: "for," as St. Bernard saith, "great sins and great miseries need great mercy, and many sins and miseries need many mercies," And is not this great mercy, to make of Satan's slaves, sons of the most High? Well may the apostle say, Behold what manner of love, and hoic great love the Father hath showed us, that we should be called the sons of God I — The world knows us not because it knew not him. They that have not seen the father of a child can not know that it resembles him ; thus the world knows not God, and therefore discerns not his image in his children so as to esteem them for it. But whatever be their opinion, this we must say ourselves. Behold what manner of love is this ! to take firebrands of hell, and to appoint them to be one day brighter than the sun in the firmament ; to raise the poor out of the dunghill, and set them vnth princes. Psalm cxiii. 7, 8. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.] Here, lastly, we see it stirs up the apostle to praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, This is the style of the gospel — as formerly, under the law, it was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and the God that brought thee up out of the land of Egypt, &c. This now is the order of the government of grace, that it holds first with Christ our Head and in him with us. So he says, / go to my Father and your Father, and my God and your God ; which, as St. Cyril of Jerusalem, in his Catechism, observes, shows us not only our communion with him — that might have been expressed thus, / go to my God and Father — but the order of the covenant, first my Father and my God, and then yours. Thus ought we, in our consideration of the mercies of God, still to take in Christ, for in him they are con- veyed to us : thus (Eph. i. 3), With all spirit- ual blessings in Christ Jesus. Blessed.] He blesseth us really : benefaci- endo benedicit. We bless him by acknowl- edging his goodness. And this we ought to do at all times, Psal. xxxiv. 1 : I will bless the Lord at all times, his praise shall contrn- uclly be in my mouth. All this is far below him and his mercies. What are our lame praises in comparison of his love ? Nothing, and less than nothing ; but love will stam- mer, rather than be dumb. They who are among his children begotten again, have, in the resurrection of Christ, a lively hope of glory : as it is, Col. i. 27, Which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. This leads them to observe and admire that rich mercy whence it flows ; and this consideration awakes them, and constrains them to break forth into praises. To an inheritance incorruptible.] As he that taketh away a garment in cold weather, and as vinegar upon nitre, so is he that singeth songs to a heavy heart. Prov. xxv. 20. Worldly mirth is so far from curing spiritual grief, that even worldly grief, where it is great and takes deep root, is not allayed but increased by it. A man who is full of in- ward heaviness, the more he is encompassed about with mirth, it exasperates and enrages his grief the more ; like ineffectual weak physic, which removes not the humor, but Ver. 3, 4.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 77 stirs it and makes it more unquiet ; but spir- itual joy is seasonable for all estates : in pros- perity, it is pertment to crown and sanctify all other enjoyments, with this which so far surpasses them ; and in distress, it is the only Nepenthe, the cordial of fainting spirits: so, Psal. iv. 7, He hath put joy into my heart. This mirth makes way for itself, which other mirth can not do. These songs are sweetest in the night of distress. Therefore the apos- tle, writing to his scattered afflicted brethren, begins his epistle with this song of praise, Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. The matter of this joy is, the joyful re- membrance of the happiness laid up for them, under the name inheritance. Now this in- heritance is described by the singular quali- ties of it, viz., 1. The excellency of its na- ture ; 2. The certainty of its atiainmeni. The former is conveyed in these three, incor- ruptible, undejiled, and that fad. eth not away ; the latter, in the last words of this verse and in the verse following : Reserved in heaven for you, &c. God is bountiful to all — gives to all men all thai they have, health, riches, honor, strength, beauty, and wit ; but these things he scatters (as it were) with an indifferent hand. Upon others he looks as well as upon his beloved children ; but the iiiheritance is peculiarly theirs. Inheritance is convertible with son- ship ; Abraham gave gifts to Keturah's sons, and dismissed them, Gen. xxv. 5 ; but the in- heriiance was for the Son of the Promise. When we see a man rising in preferment or estate, or admired for excellent gifts and en- dowments of mind, we think there is a happy man ; but we consider not that none of all those things are matter of inheritance ; with- in awhile he is to be turned out of all, and if he have not somewhat beyond all those to look to, he is but a miserable man, and so much the more miserable, that once he seem- ed and was reputed happy. There is a cer- tain time wherein heirs come to possess : thus it is with this inheritance too. There is mention made by the apostle of a perfect man — unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ, Eph. iv. 13. And though the inheritance is rich and honorable, yet the heir, being young, is held under discipline, and is more strictly dealt with, possibly, than the servants — sharply corrected for that which is let pass in them ; but still, even then, in regard of that which he is born to, his condition is much better than theirs, and all the correction he suffers prejudices him not, but fits him for inheriting. The love of our heavenly Father is beyond the love of mothers in tenderness, and yet beyond the love of fathers (who are usually said to love more wisely) in point of wisdom. He will not undo his children, his heirs, with too much indulgence. It is one of his heavy judgments upon the foolish children of diso- bedience, that Ease shall slay them, and their prosperity shall prove their destruction. While the children of God are childish and weak in faith, they are like some great heirs before they come to years of under- standing : they consider not their inheritance, and what they are to come to, have not their spirits elevated to thoughts worthy of their estate, and their behavior conformed to it ; but as they grow up in years, they come, by little and little, to be sensible of those things, and the nearer they come to possession, the more apprehensive they are of their quality, and of what doth, answerably become them to do. And this is the duty of such as are indeed heirs of glory ; — to grow in the un- derstanding and consideration of that which is prepared for them, and to suit themselves, as they are able, to those great hopes. This is what the apostle St. Paul prays for, on behalf of his Ephesians, chap. i. 18. The eyes of your understanding being enlighten- ed, that ye may know what is the hope jf his calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the Saints. This would make them holy and heavenly, to have their conversation in heaven, from ivhence they look for a Savior. That we may, then, the better know somewhat of the dignity and riches of this inheritance, let us consider the description which is here given us of it. And, first, it is Incorruptible.] Although this seems to be much the same with the third quality, that fadeth not away (which is a borrowed ex- pression for the illustrating of its incorrupti- bleness), yet, I conceive that there is some difference, and that in these three qualities there is a gradation. Thus it is called incor- ruptible ; that is, it perisheth not, can not come to nothing, is an estate that can not be spent ; but though it were abiding, yet it might be such as that the continuance of it were not very desirable ; it would be but a misery at best, to continue always in this life. Plotinus thanked God that his soul was not tied to an immortal body. Then, undejiled ; it is not stained with the least spot : this sig- nifies the purity and perfection of it, as that the perpetuity of it. It doth not only abide, and is pure, but both together, it abideth al- ways in its integrity. And lastly, it fadeth not aivay ; it doth not fade nor wither at all, is not sometimes more, sometimes less pleas- ant, but ever the same, still like itself ; and this constitutes the immutability of it. As it is incorruptible, it carries away the palm from all earthly possessions and inher- itances ; for all those epithets are intended to signify its opposition to the things of this world, and to show how far it excels them all ; and in this comparative light we are to consider it. For as divines say of the knowl- edge of God which we have here, that the negative notion makes up a great part of it — we know rather what he is not than what he is, infinite, incomprehensible, immutable, &c. ; so it is of this happiness, this inheri- tance ; and indeed it is no other than God. We can not tell you what it is, but we can 78 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. 1. say so far what it is not, as declares it is un- speakably above all the most excellent things of the inferior world and this present life. It is by privatives, by removing imperfections from it, that we describe it, and we can go no farther than this — Incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadcth not away. All things that we see, being compounded, may be dissolved again. The very visible heavens, Avhich are the purest piece of the material world (notwithstanding the pains the philosopher takes to exempt them), the Scriptures teach us that they are corruptible, PsaJ. cii. 26. They shall perish, but thou shalt endure ; yea, all of them shall wax old like a garment ; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be changed. And from^ thence the apostle to the Hebrews, ch. i. 10, and our apostle, in his other epis- tle, ch. iii. 11, use the same expression. But it is needless to fetch too great a compass, to evince the corruptibieness of all inheri- tances. Besides what they are in them- selves, it is a shorter way to prove them cor- ruptible in relation to us and our possessing them, by our own corruptibieness and cor- ruption, or perishing out of this life in which we enjoy them. We are here inter peritura perituri; the things are passing which we enjoy, and we are passing who enjoy them. An earthly inheritance is so called in regard of succession ; but to every one it is at the most but for term of life. As one of the kings of Spain replied to one of his courtiers, who, thinking to please his master, wished that kings were immortal ; If that had been, said he, / should never have been king. When death comes that removes a man out of all his possessions to give place to another ; therefore are these inheritances decaying and dying in relation to us, because we decay and die ; and when a man dies, his inheritances and honors, and all things here, are at an end, in respect of him ; yea, we may say the world ends to him. Thus Solomon reasons, that a man's hap- piness can not be upon this earth ; because it must be some durable, abiding thing that must make him happy — abiding, to wit, in his enjoyment. Now, though the earth abide, yet, because man abides not on the earth to possess it, but one age drives out another, one generation passeth, and another cometh, velut unda impellitur unda, therefore, his rest and his happmess can not be here. Undejiled.] All possessions here are defiled and stained with many other defects and failings — still somewhat wanting, some damp on them or crack in them ; fair houses, but sad cares flying about the gilded and ceiled roofs ; stately and soft beds, and a full table, but a sickly body and queasy stomach. As the fairest face has some mole or wart in it, so all possessions are stained with sin, either in acquiring or in using them, and therefore they are called, mammon of unrighteousness^ Luke xvi. 9. Iniquity is so involved in the notion of riches, that it can very hardly be separated from them. St. Jerome says, Ver- um mihi videtur illud, dives aut iniquus est, aut iniqui hares : To me it appears, that he who is rich is either himself an unjust man or the heir of one. Foul hands pollute all they touch ; it is our sin that defiles what we possess ; it is sin that burdens the whole creation, and presses groans out of the very frame of the world, Rom. viii. 22. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. This our leprosy defiles our houses, the very walls and floors, our meat and drink and all we touch, polluted when alone, and polluted in society, our meetings and conversations to- gether being for the greatest part nothing but a commerce and interchange of sin and vanity. We breathe up and down in an infected air, and are very receptive of the infection by our own corruption within us. We read- ily turn the things we possess here to occa- sions and instruments of sin, and think there is no liberty nor delight in their use without abusing them. How few are they who can carry (as they say) a full cup even ; who can have digestion strong enough for the right use of great places and estates : who can bear preferment without pride, and riches without covetousness, and ease without wan- tonness ! Then, as these earthly inheritances are stained with sin in their use, so what grief, and strife, and contentions about obtaining or retaining them ! Doth not the matter of possession, this same meum and tuum, divide many times the aff"ections of those who are knit together m nature, or other strict ties, and prove the very apple of strife betwixt nearest friends ? If we trace great estates to their first origi- nal, how few will be found that owe not their beginning either to fraud, or rapine, or op- pression ! and the greatest empires and king- doms in the world have had their foundations laid in blood. Are not these defiled inheri- tances? That withcreth not.'] A borrowed phrase, alluding to the decaying of plants and flow- ers, which bud and flourish at a certain time of the year, and then fade and wither, and in winter are as if they were dead. And this is the third disadvantage of pos- sessions and all things worldly, that they abide not in one estate, but are in a more un- certain and irregular inconstancy than either the flowers and plants of the field, or the moon, from which they are called sublunary; like Nebuchadnezzar's image, degenerating by degrees into baser metals, and, in the end, into a mixture of iron and clay. The excellency, then, of this inheritance, is, that it is free from all those evils. It falls not under the stroke of time, comes not with- in the compass of its scythe, which hath so large a compass, and cuts down all other things. Ver. 5.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 79 There is nothing in it weighing it toward corruption. It is immortal, everlasting ; for it is the fruition of the immortal everlasting God, by immortal souls ; and the body joined with it, shall likewise be immortal, having put on incorruption, as the apostle speaks, 1 Cor. XV. 54. It fadeth not au'ay.'\ No spot of sin nor sorrow there ; all pollution wiped away, and all tears with it ; no envy nor strife ; not as here among men, one supplantmg another, one pleading and fighting against another, dividing this point of earth with fire and sword ; — no, this inheritance is not the less by division, by being parted among so many brethren, every one hath it all, each his crown, and all agreeing in casting them down before his throne, from whom they have received them, and in the harmony of his praises. This inheritance is often called a kingdom, and a crown of glory. This last word may allude to those garlands of the ancients ; and this is its property, that the flowers in it are all amaranthes (as a certain plant is named), and so it is called (I Pet. v. 4), A crown of glory that fadeth not aicay. No change at all there, no winter and sum- mer: not like the poor comforts here, but a bliss always flourishing. The grief of the saints here, is not so much for the changes of outward things, as of their inward com- forts. Suavis hora, sed brevis mora. Sweet presences of God they sometimes have, but they are short, and often interrupted ; but there no cloud shall come betwixt them and their sun ; ihey shall behold him in his full brightness for ever. As there shall be no change in their beholding, so no weariness nor abatement of their delight in beholding. They sing a new song, always the same, and yet always new. The sweetest of our music, if it were to be heard but for one whole day, would weary them who are most delighted with it. What we have here cloys, but sat- isfies not ; the joys above never cloy, and yet always satisfy. We should here consider the last property of this inheritance, namely, the certainty of it — Reserved in heaven for you ; but that is connected with the following verse, and so will be fitly joined with it. Now for some use of all this. If these things were believed, they would persuade for themselves ; we should not need add any entreaties lo move you to seek after this inheritance. Have we not experience enough of the vanity and misery of things corruptible ? and are not a great part of our days already spent among them? Is it not time to consider whether we be provided with anything surer and better than what we have here ; whether we have any inheritance to go home to after our wandering? or can say with the apostle (2 Cor. v. 1), We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved^ we have a building of God, ■ an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. i If these things gain our assent while we hear them, yet it dies soon. Scarcely any retire within themselves afterward to pursue i those thoughts, and to make a work indeed I of them ; they busy their heads rather an- i other way, building castles in the air, anJ spinning out their thoughts in vain contri- I vances. Happy are they whose hearts the Spirit of God sets and fixes upon this inher- itance : they may join in with the apostle, and say, as here, Blessed be the God and Fa- ther of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath be- ' gotten us again unto this lively hope, to this . inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. I Ver. 5. Who are kept by the power of God, through I faith, unto salvation, ready to be revealed in tiie I last time. I It is doubtless a great contentment to the 1 children of God, to hear of the excellences I of the life to come ; they do not use to be- ; come weary of that subject ; yet there is one doubt, which, if it be not removed, may damp their delight in hearing and consider- ing of all the rest. The richer the estate is, it will the more kindle the malice and dili- gence of their enemies to deprive them of it, and to cut them short of possessing it. And this they know, that those spiritual pow- j ers who seek to ruin them, do overmatch ] them far, both in craft and force. I Against the fears of this, the apostle com- forts the heirs of salvation, assuring them, that, as the estate they look for is excellent, so it is certain and safe, laid up where it is out of the reach of all adverse powers, re- served in heaven for you. Besides that this is a further evidence of the worth and excel- lency of this inheritance, it makes it sure. It confirms what was said of its excellency ; for it must be a thing of greatest worth, that is laid up in the highest and best place of the world, namely, in heaven for you, where nothing that is impure oace enters, much less is laid up and kept. Thus, the land where this inheritance lies, makes good all that hath been spoken of the dignity and riches of it. But further, as it is a rich and pleasant country where it lieih, it hath also this priv- ilege, to be the only land of rest and peace, free from all possibiliiy of invasion. There is no spoiling of it, and laying it waste, and defacing its beauty, by leading armies into it, and making it the seat of war ; no noise of drums or trumpets, no inundations of one people driving out another and sitting down in their possessions. In a word, there is ! nothing there subject to decay of itself, so I neither is it in danger of fraud or violence. I When our Savior speaks of this same hap- piness, in a like term. Matt. vi. 20, what is here called an inheritance, is there called a ! treasure. He expresses the permanency of 80 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. it by these two, that it hath neither moth nor rust in itself to corrupt it, nor can thieves break through and steal it. There is a worm at the root of all our enjoyments here, cor- rupting causes within themselves ; and be- sides that, they are exposed to injury from without, which may deprive us of them. How many stalely palaces, which have been possibly divers years in building, hath fire upon a very small beginning destroyed in a few hours ! What great hopes of gain by traffic hath one tempest mocked and disap- pointed ! HovvT many who have thought their possessions very sure, yet have lost them by some trick of law, and others (as in time of war) been driven from them by the sword ! Nothing free from all danger but this inheritance, Avhich is laid up in the hands of God, and kept in heaven for us. The highest stations in the world, namely, the estate of kings, they are but mountains of prey, one robbing and spoiling another ; but in that holy mountain above, there is none to huri, or spoil, or offer violence. What the prophet speaks of the church here, is more perfectly and eminently true of it above, Isaiah Ixv. 25. This is, indeed, a necessary condition of our joy in the thoughts of this happy estate, that we have some persuasion of our pro- priety, that it is ours ; that we do not speak and hear of it, as travellers passing by a pleasant place do behold and discourse of its fair structure, the sweetness of the seat, the planting, the gardens, the meadows that are about it, and so pass on ; having no further interest in it. But when we hear of this glo- rious inheritance, this treasure, this kingdom that is pure, and rich, and lasting, we may add, it is mine, it is reserved in heaven, and reserved for me ; 1 have received the eviden- ces and the earnest of it ; and, as it is kept safe for me, so I shall likewise be preserved to it, and that is the other part of the cer- tainty that completes the comforts of it. Ephes. i. 14. The salvation which Christ hath purchas- ed is, indeed, laid up in heaven, but we who seek after it, are on earth, compassed about with dangers and temptations. What avails it us, that our salvation is in heaven, in the place of safety and quietness, while we our- selves are tossed upon the stormy seas of this world, amidst rocks and shelves, every hour in danger of shipwreck? Our inherit- ance is in a sure hand indeed, our enemies can not come at it ; but they may over-run and destroy us at their pleasure, for we are in the midst of ihem. Thus might we think and complain, and lose the sweetness of all our other thoughts concerning heaven, if there were not as firm a promise for our own safety in the midst of our dangers, as there is of the safety of our inheritance that is out of danger. The assurance is full, thus ; it is kept for us in heaven, and we kept on earth for it: as it is reserved for us, we are no less surely pre- served to it. There is here, 1. The estate itself, salvation. 2. The preservation, or se- curing, of those that expect it, kept. 3. The time of full possession, in the last time. 1. The estate — unto salvation. Before it is called an inheritance ; here we are more particularly told what is meant by that, namely, salvation. This is more expressly sure, being a deliverance from misery, and it imports, withal, the possession of perfect happiness. The first part of our happiness is, to be freed from those miseries to which we are subject by our guiltiness; to be set free, 1. From the curse of the law, and the wrath of God,from everlasting death. 2. From all kind of mortality and decaying. 3. From all power and stain of sin. 4. From all temptation. 5. From all the griefs and af- flictions of this life. To have the perfec- tion of grace in the fulness of holiness, and the perfection of bliss in the fulness of joy, in the continual vision of God I — but how little v/e are able to say of this, our apostle here teacheth us, in that it is veiled to us ; only so much shines through, as we are ca- pable of here; but the revealed knowledge of ii is only in the possession ; it is to he re- vealed in the last time. 2dly. Their preservation, with the causes of it. Kept by the power of God through faith. The inheritance is kept not only in safety, but in quietness. The children of God, for whom it is kept, while they are here, are kept safe indeed, but not unmo- lested and unassaulted ; they have enemies, and such as are stirring, and cunning, and powerful ; but, in the midst of them,'' they are guarded and defended ; they perish not, according to the prayer of our Savior poured out for them, John xvii. 16, / pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the world ; but that thou shouldst keep them from the evil. They have the prince of the power of the air, and all his armies, all the forces he can make, against them. Though his power is nothing but tyranny and usurpation, yet be- cause once they Avere under his yoke, he be- stirs himself to pursue them, when they are led forth from their captivity, as Pharaoh, with all his chariots and horses and horse- men, pursues after the Israelites going out of Egypt. The word in the original {(pp^vpovfitvn) here translated kept, is a military term, used for those who are kept as in a fort or garrison- town besieged. So Saian is still raising bat- teries against this fort, using all Avays to take it, by strength or stratagem, uuAvearied in his assaults, and very skilful to knoAv his ad- vantages, and where we are Aveakest, there to set on. And besides all this, he hath in- telligence with a party Avithin us, ready to betray us to him ; so that it Avere impossible for us to hold out, were there not another watch and guard than our own, and other walls and bulwarks than any that our skill Ver. 5.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 81 and industry can raise for our own defence. In this, then, is our safety, that there is a power above our own. yea and above all our enemies, that guards us, salvation itself o?/r tca/ls and buhcarks. We ought to watch, but when we do so in obedience to our com- mander, the captain of our salvation, yet it is his o"\;\'n watching, who sleeps not, nor so much as slumbers, it is that preserves us, and makes ours not to be in vain. Psal. cxxvi. 1 ; Isa. xxvii. 3. And therefore those two are jointly commanded, ^yatch and pray that ye enter not into temptation. Watch, there IS the necessity of our diligence ; pray, there is the insufficiency of it, and the necessity of his watching, by whose power we are ef- fectually preserved, and that power is our fort. Isa. xxvi. 1, Salvation hath God ap- pointed for walls and buhcarks. What more safe than to be walled with salvation itself. So, Prov. xviii. 10, The name o f the Lord is a strong toicer ; the righteous jly into it and are safe. Now the causes of our preservation are two, 1. Supreme, the poxcer o f God. 2. Sub- ordinate,/«?\'y^. The supreme power of God, is that on which depend our stability and perseverance. When we consider how weak we are in ourselves, yea, the very strongest among us. and how assaulted, we wonder, and justly we may, that any can continue one day in the state of grace : but when we look on the strength by which we are guard- ed, the power of God. then we see the rea- son of our stability to the end : for omipo- tency supports us, and the everlasting arms are under us. Then fu'th is the second cause of our pres- ervation ; because it applies the first cause, the power of God. Our faith lays hold up- on this power, and this power strengthens faith, and so we are preserved: it puts us within those walls, sets the soul within the guard of the power of God. which, by self- confidence and vain presuming in its own strength, is exposed to all kind of danger. Faith is an humble self-denying grac^ : ii makes the Christian nothing in himself and all in God. The weakest persons who are within a strong place, women and children, though they were not able to resist the enemv,lf they were alone, yet so long as the place wherein they are is of sufficient strength, and well manned, and every way accommo- date to hold out, they are in safety : thus the weakest believer is safe, because by believ- ing he is within the strongest of all defences. Faiih is the victory, and Christ sets his strength against Satan's ; and when the Christian is hard beset with some tempta- tion, too strong for himself, then he looks up to Him who is the great conqueror of the powers of darkness, and calls to hmi, " Now, Lord, assist thy servant in this encounter, and put to thy strength, that the glory may be thine.'' Thus, faith is such an ensine as 11 ' draws in the power of God and his Son Je- sus into the works and conflicts that it hath in hand. This is our victory, even our faith. 1 John V. 4. It is the property of a good Christian to magnify the power of God. and to have high thoughts of it, and therefore it is his privi- lege to find safety in that power. David can not satisfy himself with one or two expres- sions of it, but delights in multiplying them. Psalm xviii. 1, The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer ; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust ; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my hish tower. Faith looks above all, both that which the soul hath, and that which it wants, and answers ail doubts and fears with this almighty power upon which it rests. Sdly. The time of full possession — ready to be revealed in the last time. This salva- tion is that great work wherein God iatend- ed to manifest the glory of his grace, con- trived before time, and in the several asres of the world brought forward, after the de- creed manner : and the full accomplishment of it is reserved for the end of time. The souls of the faithful do enter into the possession of it, when they remove from their houses of clay : yet is not their happiness complete till that great day of the appear- ing of Jesus Christ. They are naturally im- perfect till their bodies be raised and rejoin- ed to their souls, to partake together of their bliss : and they are mystically imperfect, till all the rest of the members of Jesus Christ be added to them. But then shall their joy be absolutely full, when both their o-^ti bodies, and the mysti- cal body of Christ shall be glorified : when all the children of that glorious family shall meet, and sit down to fhat great marriage supper at their Father's table. Then shall the music of that new song be full, when there is not one wanting of those that are appointed to sing it for eternity. In that day shall our Lord Jesus be glorified in his saints, and admired in all them that believe, 2 Thess. i. 10. You see what it is that the gospel ofl*ers you, and you may gather how great both your folly and your guiltiness will be. if you neslect and slight so great salvation when it is brought to you. and you are entreated to receive it. This is all that the preaching of the word aims at, and yet, who hearkens to it ? How few lay hold on this eternal life, this inheritance, this crown that is held forth to all that hear of ii I Oh I that you could be persuaded to be saved, that you would be wilhng to embrace salvation ! You think you would ; but if it be so, then I may say, though you would be saved, yet your custom of sin,' your love to sin, and love to the world, will not suffer you ; and these will still hinder you, unless you put on holy resolutions to break throug.h them, and trample them imder foot, and take 82 A COMMENTARY UPON THE [Chap. I. this kingdom by a hand of violence, which God is so well pleased with. He is willingly overcome by that force, and gives this king- dom most willingly, where it is so taken ; it is not attained by slothfulness, and sitting still with folded hands; it must be invaded with strength of faith, with armies of prayers and tears ; and they who set upon it thus are sure to take it. Consider what we are doing, how we mis- place our diligence on things that abide not, or we abide not to enjoy them. We have no abiding city here, saith the apostle, but he adds that which comforts the citizens of the new Jerusalem, We look for one to come, whose builder and maker is God. Hear not these things idly, as if they concerned you not, but let them move you to resolution and actions. Say, as they said of Canaan, it is a good land, let us go up and possess it. Learn to use what you have here as travellers, and let your home, your inheritance, your treas- ure be on high, which is by far the richest and the safest ; and if it be so with you, then Where your treasure is, there will your hearts be also. Ver. 6. Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season (if need be) ye are in heaviness through manifold temptations. The same motives can not beget contrary passions in the soul ; therefore, the apostle reduces the mixture of sorrowing and rejoi- cing that is usual in the heart of a Christian to the different causes of both, and shows which of the two hath the stronger cause, and is therefore always predominant in him who entertains and considers it aright. His scope is, to stir up and strengthen spir- itual joy in his afflicted brethren ; and there- fore having set the matter of it before them in the preceding verses, he now applies it, and expressly opposes it to their distresses. Some read these words exhortatively. In which rejoice ye. It is so intended, but I con- ceive it serves that end better indicatively, as we now read it. In which ye rejoice. It ex- horts in a more insinuating and persuasive manner, that it may be so, to urge it on them, that it is so. Thus St. Paul, Acts xxvi. 27, King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets ? I know that thou believest. And straight he answered. Thou almost persuadest me to be a Christian. This implies how just and how reasonable it is, that the things spoken of should make them glad; in these they will rejoice, yea, do rejoice. Certainly, if you know and consider what the causes of your joy are, ye can not choose but find it within you, and in such a measure as to swallow up all your tem.porary sorrows, how great and how many soever their causes be. We are then to consider severally these bitter waters and the sweet, this sorrow and this joy. 1. In their springs; 2. In their streams. And first, they are called temptations, and manifold temptations. The habits of Divine supernatural grace are not acquirable by hu- man study, or by industry, or by exercise ; they are of immediate infusion from heaven ; yet are they infused to the end that they may act and exercise themselves in the several conditions and occurrences of a Christian's life, and by that they grow stronger. Whatsoever oppositions or difficulties grace meets with in its acting, go under this general name of temptations. It is not necessary to reckon up the variety of senses of this vv^ord, in its full latitude ; how God is said to tempt man, and how it is said that he tempts him not ; how man tempts God, and how it is said that God is not tempted ; how Satan tempts men, and men one another, and a man himself: all these are several acceptations of this Avord ; but the temptations here meant, are the things by which men are tempted, and particularly the saints of God. And though there is noth- ing in the words, that may not agree to all sorts of temptations which the godly are sub- ject to ; yet I conceive it is particularly meant of their afflictions and distresses, as the apos- tle James likewise uses it, chap. i. 2. And they are so called, because they give particular and notable proof of the temper of a Christian's spirit, and draAV forth evidence both of the truth and the measure of the grace that is in them. If they fail and are foiled, as sometimes they are, this convinces them of that human frailty and weakness which are in them, and so humbles them, and drives them out of themselves to depend upon another for more strength and better success in after-encounters. If they acquit themselves like Christians indeed (the Lord managing and assisting that grace which he hath given them), then all their valor, and strength, and victories, turn to his praise, from whom they have received all. A man is not only unknown to others but to himself, that hath never met wiih such difficulties as require faith, and Christian for- titude, and patience, to surmount them. How shall a man know whether his meekness and calmness of spirit be real or not, while he meets with no provocation, nothing that con- tradicts or crosses him ? But when some- what sets upon him, that is in itself very un- pleasant and grievous to him, and yet, if in that case he retains his moderation of spirit, and ffies not out into impatience, either against God or men, this gives experiment of the truth and soundness of that grace within him ; whereas standing water which is clear at top while it is untouched, yet if it have mud at the bottom, stir it a little, and it rises presently. It is not altogether unprofitable ; yea, it is great wisdom in Christians to be arming themselves against such temptations as may befall them hereafter, though they have not as yet met with them ; to labor to overcome them beforehand, to suppose the hardest thuigs that may be incident to them ; and to Ver. 6.] FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 83 put on the strongest resolutions they can at- tain unto. Yet all that is but an imaginary effort ; and therefore there is no assurance that the victory is any more than imaginary too, till it come to action, and then, they that have spoken and thought very confidently, may prove but (as one said of the Athenians) fortes in tabula, patient and courageous in picture or fancy ; and notwithstanding all their arms, and dexterity in handling them by way of exercise, may be foully defeated when they are to fight in earnest. The chil- dren of Ephraim being armed, and carrying bows (says the psalmist, Psal. Ixxviii. 9), yet turned back in the day of battle. It is the battle that tries the soldier, and the storm the pilot. How would it appear that Chris- tians can be themselves, not only patient, but cheerful in poverty, in disgrace, and tempta- tions, and persecutions, if it were not often their lot to meet with them ? He who framed the heart, knows it to be but deceitful, and he who gives grace, knows the weakness and strength of it exactly ; yet he is pleased to speak thus, that by afflictions and hard tasks he tries what is in the hearts ot his children. For the word of God speaks to men, and therefore it speaks the language of the chil- dren of men : thus, Gen. xxii. 12, Now I know that thou fear est God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me. God delights to call forth his champions to meet with great temptations, to make them bear crosses of more than ordinary weight ; as commanders in war put men of most valor and skill upon the hardest services. God sets some strong furious trial upon a strong Christian, made strong by his own grace, and by his victory, makes it appear to the world, that though there is a great deal of the coun- terfeit coin of profession in religion, yet some there are, who have the power, the reality of it, and that it is not an invention, but there is truth in it ; that the invincible grace, the very spirit of God dwells in the hearts of true believers ; that he hath a number who do not only speak big, but do indeed and in good earnest despise the world, and over- come it by his sv-ength. Some men take de- light to see some kind of beasts fight together ; but to see a Christian mind encountering some great affliction, and conquering it, to see his valor in not sinking at the hardest dis- tresses of this life, nor the most frightful end of it, the cruellest kinds of death, for his sake — this is (as one said) dignum Deo spectacu- lum; this is a combat which God delights to look upon, and he is not a mere beholder in it, for it is the power of his own grace that enables and supports the Christian in all those conflicts and temptations. Through manifold temptations.'] This ex- presses a multitude of temptations, and those too of divers kinds, many and manifold. It were no hard condition to have a trial now and then, with long ease and prosperity be- twixt ; but to be plied with one affliction at the heels of another, to have them come thronging in by multitudes and of different kinds, uncouth, unaccustomed evils, such as a man hath not been acquainted with before, this is that which is often the portion of those who are the beloved of God, Psal. xlii. 7. Deep calleth unto deep, at the noise of thy water-spouts ; all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me. Ye are in heaviness.] This the apostle 1 blames not, but aims at the moderating of it. I Seek not altogether to dry up this stream, j but to bound it, and keep it within its banks. I Grace doth not destroy the life of nature, but I adds to it a life more excellent; yea, grace I doth not only permit, but requires some feel- j ing of afflictions. There is an affected pride I of spirit in some men, instead of patience, j suitable only to ihe doctrine of the stoics as I it is usually taken ; they strive not to feel at I all the afflictions that are on them ; jut this is to despise the correction of the Lord, wliich I is alike forbidden with fainting und