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 A 
 
 PRACTICAL COMMENTARY 
 
 Ll'ON THE 
 
 FIRST EPISTLE OF ST. PETER; 
 
 AND OTHEK 
 
 EXPOSITOKY WORKS: 
 
 BY THE MOST REVEEEND FATHEU IN GOD, 
 
 ROBERT LEIGHTON, D.D., 
 
 ARCHBISHOP OF GLASGOW. 
 
 TO\VHI(;H IS PREFIXED 
 
 A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, 
 
 THE REV. JOHN NORMAN PEARSON, M.A. 
 
 OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, AND CHAPLAIN TO THE 
 MOST NOBLE THE MARQUESS WELLESLEV, 
 
 dvntoMOi tUv rSiSj, (puyh (iovou v^o; fiovov. — Plotiisi Ennead. 6, L. 9. c. xi. 
 
 A NEW ED ITION,—IN TWO rOLUMES. 
 
 VOLUME I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JAMES DUNCAN, 37, P ATE RN O STE R -RO W ; 
 
 HATCHARD AND SON; SEELEY AND SONS; AND J. NISBET, LONDON; 
 
 PARKEll, OXFORD; J. AND J.J. DEIGHTON, CAMBRIDGE; 
 
 AND BELL AND BRAnFUTE, EDINBURGH. 
 
 MDCCGXXX.
 
 LONDON ; 
 
 I'nnti'd by William Clowes, 
 
 Stain ford-.slreet.
 
 55 
 
 Z7^S- 
 
 ter 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Life of Archbishop Leighton, by the Rev. J. N. Pearson i 
 
 Preface by the Rev. Dr. Doddridge cxciii 
 
 Tivo Letters attributed to the Bishop clxxxi 
 
 A PRACTICAL COMMENTARY ON THE FfRST EPISTLE 
 GENERAL OF PETER. 
 
 Chap. 1 1 
 
 I L (to verse 20) 171
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A NEW edition of Archbishop Leighton's Works being 
 called for, it was thought desirable to accompany it 
 with a more complete life, than has yet been given to 
 the world, of their venerable author. To accomplish 
 this object no trouble and expense have been spared 
 by the publisher. Old sources of information have 
 been explored anew ; and inquiries have been insti- 
 tuted wherever there was even a faint prospect of col- 
 lecting materials, which had escaped the diligent search 
 of former biographers. It was indeed to be appre- 
 hended that, after the lapse of nearly a century and a 
 half, little would be obtainable from local recollections ; 
 and that the voice of tradition, if not totally silent, 
 would speak only in broken and indistinct murmurs. 
 And such in some degree is the case. The shadows of 
 forgetfulness have closed upon almost all that Leighton 
 
 Vol. I, a
 
 11 PREFACE. 
 
 said or did, of which the memory has not been per 
 petuated by its connexion with matters of poUtical 
 interest : and of those httle anecdotes which have 
 reached this distant period with his name engraven 
 on them, the descent is commonly so obscure and 
 uncertain, that it has been thought better to reject 
 what may possibly be genuine, than to run any risk 
 of admitting what is spurious. It is almost needless 
 to state, that a considerable portion of the ensuing 
 narrative is drawn from Bishop Burnet's History of 
 his own Times ; nothing of any consequence which is 
 told in that work being omitted in this memoir. To 
 the present compiler, however, one fund of information 
 has been opened, to wliich none of his predecessors 
 had access. He alludes to a manuscript letter, of 
 which through the kindness of Mr. Duncan he is now 
 possessed, which was addressed to Bishop Burnet by 
 Mr. Edward Lightmaker, whose mother was Leigh- 
 ton's own sister. It was the happiness of this lady to 
 have her brother for a member of her household 
 during the last ten years of his life ; so that her son 
 had great opportunities, though his tender years pre- 
 vented his reaping the full benefit of them, of storing 
 up interesting particulars of the Bishop's life and 
 conversation. To verify by external evidence the 
 manuscript so fortunately preserved to us has been
 
 PREFACE, Hi 
 
 found impossible : but the internal proof is so strong- as 
 to preclude any reasonable doubt of its being- the auto- 
 graph of Leighton's nephew ; and its genuineness 
 being- ascertained, no question can arise about its 
 authenticity. The composition of it is confused and 
 disorderly : for the worthy writer, in noting down the 
 memorable actions and sayings of his revered uncle, as 
 they occurred to his memory, has interspersed many 
 pious and affectionate remarks, which, however cre- 
 ditable to the kindliness of his nature, are prejudicial 
 to the distinctness of his narration. It has exercised 
 the sedulous care of the present biographer to extract 
 the valuable portions of this medley, and to arrange 
 them in the order that chronology seemed to pre- 
 scribe, or that served best to illustrate the Arch- 
 bishop's character. One of the surest proofs of the 
 genuineness of this document arises from four letters 
 subjoined to it, which purport to be copied from 
 Leighton's autographs, and are so thoroughly imbued 
 with his incomparable spirit as to place their parent- 
 age beyond dispute. 
 
 Besides drawing largely from this mine, hitherto 
 unwrought, I have endeavoured, by ransacking a 
 variety of records for incidental notices of the subject, 
 to enrich this memoir with new particulars, and to 
 rectify former inaccuracies concerning facts and dates. 
 
 a 2
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 To this end, the manuscripts in the Advocates' Library, 
 and the Town Register of Edinburgh, have been 
 carefully inspected ; and nothing, I believe, has been 
 overlooked that would have contributed to the object 
 in hand, among the various papers in the College 
 Library at Glasgow. Moreover, the " Memoranda 
 of Dr. Robert Leighton, Bishop of Dumblain, by 
 Bishop Kennet," which are among the Lansdown ma- 
 nuscripts, have been collated with the chapter in 
 Wodrow's History which treats of the attempted 
 Accommodation, and proves to be a transcript 
 from the former, with a few inconsiderable addi- 
 tions. For some of these researches I have been 
 indebted to Mr. Fleming, the Librarian of Glasgow 
 College ; and for some to Dr. M'Crie of Edinburgh, 
 than whom an abler auxiliary could not be desired 
 in biographical investigations. The Rev. Mr. Grier- 
 son, also, the respectable minister of Dunblane, has 
 been at pains, which I regret to add have proved 
 unavailing, to detect any relics of the venerable saint, 
 that had not yet mouldered away, or been dis- 
 covered and enshrined by some antecedent historian. 
 Upon tlie whole, however, the success of our researches 
 has outgone our anticipations ; and scattered frag- 
 ments have been redeemed, which are found, when 
 put together, of a value tliat well repays the labour
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 it has cost to gather them up. If not sufficient to fill 
 up, yet they narrow, the chasms which broke the 
 continuity of the holy Prelate's life ; they connect 
 and illustrate many incidents of his public career ; 
 and the intervals of his several appearances amidst the 
 scenes of his eventful era are at least so far contracted, 
 that we cannot fail to recognise in him, as often as he 
 revisits us, the friend with whose mien and carriage 
 we are happily familiar. 
 
 In the biograpliical relation now presented to the 
 world, the public conduct of Leighton is discussed in 
 such detail, as may possibly be deemed an invasion 
 of the province of history. But I felt it incumbent on 
 me to treat this part of my subject with an almost his- 
 torical minuteness; because, after balancing friendly 
 against hostile representations, I became fully satis- 
 fied that those actions of his life, which might seem to 
 tarnish his fair fame, can be so regarded only when 
 misunderstood ; and will be found, if truly repre- 
 sented, to set the seal on his reputation for purity of 
 purpose and for rehgious devotedness. In dehneating 
 Leighton 's personal character, it has been my steadfast 
 aim to avoid the ensnaring fault of drawing a beau- 
 tiful portrait, and naming it after the subject of the 
 memoir, instead of copying with scrupulous exact- 
 ness his real form and features. Accordingly, I
 
 Vi PREFACE. 
 
 ha\'e endeavoured, as far as was practicable, to let 
 my readers see liim act and hear liim talk , and in 
 executing this purpose, I have found the letter 
 before adverted to incalculably useful. In many in- 
 stances the words reported for the Archbishop's are 
 transcribed ; and where only his sentiment is given, 
 conscientious, and I trust successful, pains have 
 been taken to exliibit it pure and incorrupt. 
 
 After attempting a general account of his merits 
 as a writer, and of the characteristics of his mind 
 and style, 1 thought it unadvisable to go to any 
 length in reviewing his several works. To enume- 
 rate their excellencies would have been endless ; 
 and candour did not seem to require their blemishes 
 to be pointed out, except in a solitary instance, inas 
 much as those blemishes are few and unimportant; 
 surprisingly few and unimportant, when it is con- 
 sidered how wide a range of science and learning 
 his writings comprehend, and that none of them were 
 designed for publication. 
 
 It is greatly to be deplored that some of his pro- 
 ductions, which came into the hands of his earlier 
 
 
 
 editors, are since irrecoverably lost. I allude par- 
 ticularly to his discourses on that masterly summary 
 f)f christian d(»(tiiiie and ])ractice composed for the 
 E])hebians by St. Paul, on wliich the powers of
 
 PREFACE. VU 
 
 Leighton's congenial mind could not fail of being- 
 happily exerted. In an advertisement prefixed to 
 the first edition of the 2nd vol. of his Commentary 
 on Peter, published in London in 1694, Dr. Fall 
 says that these discourses are in his possession, and 
 he holds out a prospect of their being hereafter 
 printed : and Mr. Wilson, in his preface to the edi 
 tion of 1748, speaks of trying to recover them. 
 Mention is also made by Dr. Doddridge, in his pre- 
 face to Wilson's edition, of a large collection of the 
 Archbishop's Letters, communicated by Dr. Latham 
 of Derby, and by the Rev. Mr. WiUiam Arthur of 
 Newcastle, which were meant to be inserted in a 
 future and more extended life. But the hopes thus 
 raised have died away. Enough, however, remains 
 of this extraordinary man, to establish his title to 
 an illustrious place in the highest class of theologians, 
 as well as in the glorious company of saints. The 
 hours which the compiler of this memoir has spent in 
 contemplating its subject have not, he trusts, been 
 misemployed, as relates to his own improvement : 
 nor will they have been wasted in respect to public 
 utility, if body, colour, and distinctness have been 
 added to the portrait of a christian, whose ideas of 
 the holiness wliich becomes our spiritual caUing, far
 
 Vm PREFACE. 
 
 as they surpass all vulgar couceptions, were yet 
 realized, to the utmost that human weakness seems 
 capable of attaining, in his own habitual walk and 
 conversation. 
 
 London, 
 ^Isf December, 1824.
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 AECHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 
 
 Jl he name of Leighton occurs in some of the 
 oldest annals of Scottish history. It belonged to a 
 respectable family, proprietary of the barony of Ulis- 
 haven, otherwise called Usan, which is a demesne 
 in Craig, a considerable fishing-village in the county 
 of Forfar. Of this name the spelling is very various, 
 as will commonly be the case with the patronymic of 
 a family, of which the scattered vestiges appear at 
 wide intervals in the wilderness of the unlettered 
 ages. It is spelt, Leichtoune, Lichtoun, Lyghton, 
 Lighten, and in several other fasliions, which are 
 not respectively fixed to certain dates, but seem to 
 have obtained indiscriminately in the same eras. 
 One may remark, however, that the modern ortho- 
 graphy of the name is the same which presents 
 itself in registers of the greatest antiquity. In the 
 Rotuli Scotiae, wliich 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
 
 X THE LIFE OF 
 
 prosecute his studies. Whether this zealot of lite- 
 rature was of the Usan race cannot 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 relates that 
 
 Schir Walter of Ogilvy, that gud knycht, 
 Stout and manful, bauld and wycht, 
 
 being sheriff of Angus, was killed in 1392, at Gas- 
 klune or Glenbrerith near Blairgowrie in Perthshire, 
 by a party of three hundred Highlanders. Ogilvy, 
 with Sir Patrick Gray, Sir David Lindsay of Glenesk, 
 and about sixty men, encountered the enemy. Gray 
 and Lindsay were wounded ; and Sir Walter Ogilvy, 
 Walter Leighton of Ulishaven, his uterine brother, 
 and some of their friends, were killed. 
 
 Besides this testimony to the prowess of a Leigh- 
 ton in the days of feudal lawlessness, there is proof 
 that in the beginning of the fifteenth century the 
 same family was inscribed in the lists of ecclesi- 
 astical dignity and political importance. Mention is 
 made by Keith, in his catalogue of Scottish Bishops, 
 of one Henry Leighton, parson of Duffus, and chan- 
 tor of Moray, "legum doctor et baccalaureus in de- 
 cretis," a son of the ancient family of the Leightons 
 of Ulyshaven, who was consecrated Bishop of Mo- 
 ray in 1414, or 1415, and was translated about ten 
 years afterwards to the see of Aberdeen. He was 
 one of the commissioners sent to London to nego- 
 tiate the ransom of James I., with whom he returned 
 to Scotland ; where he is supposed to have died A. D. 
 144L
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XI 
 
 Although it may be received for a fact, that the 
 subject of our memoir was descended from this ancient 
 and respectable family, yet it has been found im- 
 possible to trace all the steps of his pedig-ree. 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 original estates had been alienated ; and in 
 1670, there is a grant under the great seal to Charles 
 Maitland of Halton of the barony of Ullishaven, 
 escheated to the king in consequence of John, earl of 
 Dundee, d>ing without male issue. 
 
 The father of Archbishop Leighton was Dr. Alex- 
 ander Leighton, a presbyterian clergym.an of unhappy 
 celebrity. In the reign of Charles I., he was sen- 
 tenced by the Star-chamber, for a virulent attack upon 
 episcopacy in a book entitled "Zion's Plea against 
 Prelacy," to be w^hipt and pilloried, to have his ears 
 cropt, liis nose slit, and his cheeks branded. This 
 barbarous punishment was rigorously inflicted; and 
 to it were superadded, during a long imprisonment, 
 such atrocious severities, as savoured more of vin- 
 dictive malignity than of judicial retribution. No apo- 
 logy would be valid^ or even decent, for cruelties 
 which W'Cre revolting alike to justice^ to humanity, and 
 to rehgion. That the wretched sufferer, however, was 
 of a cross, untowardly disposition, 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
 
 XU THE LIFE OF 
 
 is a f'act^ inoieover, not generally known, which may 
 account for the excessive rigour with which his sub- 
 sequent offences were visited. Not only was the 
 book for which he was so severely handled outrageously 
 scurrilous and inflammatory in its contents, but there 
 were collateral circumstances attending its publica- 
 tion, that betokened a mischievous purpose in the 
 writer. In the first edition no name is given either 
 of printer or author ; and instead 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 naked swords ; which 
 hieroglyphic is explained by the legend : 
 
 Prevailing' prelats strive to quench our li^lit, 
 Except your sacred power quash tlieir 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 falling, one of them holding in his hand a large 
 box. This device is interpreted by the motto : 
 
 The totteriug" prelats, with their trumpery, all 
 Sliall moulder down, like elder from a wall. 
 
 Tlic place of Archbishop Leighton's birth has been 
 much disputed. It is commonly believed that he 
 was a native of London ; on the strength I imagine 
 of IJurnet's assertion, that he was sent from thence 
 to bc^ educated in Scotland. This, however, is in- 
 ferring too !ni!ch : for he may have been carried up.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LE1GHT()>J. Xlll 
 
 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 rest solely 
 on the fact of his direct or collateral ancestors 
 having been considerable proprietors in that vil 
 lag-e ; a foundation too weak to sustain the hypo- 
 thesis, which a virtuous solicitude to make out their 
 affinity with so eminent a person has induced the 
 inhabitants to raise upon it. To my mind there are 
 unanswerable reasons for assigning that distinction to 
 Edinburgh. In the inscription on his tomb-stone, 
 Leighton is said to have died in his 74th year ; and 
 deducting 73 from 1684, the undisputed year of his 
 decease, we shall have 1611 for the year of his 
 nativity. The same amount is obtained by deduct- 
 ing 30, the number of his years when he took orders, 
 from 1641, which is the date of that transaction. 
 Now, his father was at that time professor of moral 
 philosophy in Edinburgh College*, and did not go up 
 to London until two years afterwards ■[ ; and it is 
 certainly to be presumed, not a shadow of evidence 
 appearing to the contrary, that the son was born in 
 the place wherein the father was then residing. He 
 had one younger brother, of whom mention will be 
 made hereafter, and two sisters ; one of whom w as 
 
 * Of this professorship I meet with the following notice, in a work 
 entitled " The Present State of Scotland," London, 1738. " It (Ihe Col- 
 lege) was founded in 1580, by King James VI., upon a petition from the 
 city for that end, to grant them a charter, with the privilege of an uni- 
 versity. But the foundation was not perfected till 1582. The persons 
 established by the foundation were, a principal or piimare, four regents 
 or masters of philosophy, &c." — p. 62. 
 
 •i- See Chalmers" Biograph. Diet.
 
 XIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 married to a Mr. Lightmaker, a gentleman of landed 
 property in Sussex ; and the other to a Mr. Rathband, 
 as appears from a single allusion in one of her brother's 
 letters. 
 
 Of his early years we have only a scanty though 
 a valuable notice. It appears from the unques- 
 tionable authority of his sister, that, from his ien- 
 derest ag-e, his singular teachableness and piety 
 endeared him greatly to his parents ; who used to 
 speak with admiration of his extraordinary exemption 
 from childish faults and follies. 
 
 At college his behaviour was so uniformly excel- 
 lent as to attract the notice of his superiors ; and 
 one of them^ in a letter to Dr. Leighton_, congratu- 
 lates 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 Leigh- 
 ton wrote when an undergraduate. It evinces a 
 good-natured playfulness of fancy, but is not of a 
 merit that calls for publication. 
 
 After taking his degree, Leighton passed several 
 years in travelling, and in the studies proper to 
 qualify him for future usefulness. It was his opi- 
 nion, that great advantages are to be reaped from a 
 residence in foreign parts ; inasmuch as a large 
 acquaintance with the sentiments of strangers, and 
 with the civil and religious institutions, the manners 
 and usages of other countries, conduces to un- 
 fetter the mind of indijrenous prejudices, to abate 
 the self-sufiiciency of partial knowledge, and to pro-
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XV 
 
 duce a sober and charitable estimate of opinions 
 that differ from our own. Many years afterwards, 
 he recommended a similar course to his nephew^ 
 alleging-, that " there is a very peculiar advantage 
 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 had setded. 
 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 Romish 
 church to be utterly antichristian ; but thought he 
 discerned in it beautiful fragments of the original 
 temple, however disfigured with barbarous addi- 
 tions, and almost hid beneath the rampant growth of 
 a baneful superstition. Having learnt from these 
 better portions of that corrupt estabhshment, that 
 its constitutions were not altogether dross, he went 
 on to discover that the frame of his own church was 
 not entirely gold : nor did it escape him, that in the 
 sweeping extermination, so clamorously demanded in 
 Scotland, of all those offices of devotion which sym- 
 bolized with the Roman Catholic services, some of 
 the noblest formularies and most useful institutes of 
 the primitive church would perish. It was probably 
 from this time that his veneration for the presbyterian 
 platform began to abate. 
 
 He was thirty years old before he took holy 
 orders; and in deferring to so ripe an age his en-
 
 XVI THE LIFE OF 
 
 trance on the ministry, as well as in retiring* so early 
 as he (lid 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 towards God corresponded 
 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 honourable superannuation at that period 
 of life^ Avhen the strength of mind and body com- 
 monly begins to decay. It was on the sixteenth 
 day of December, A. D. 1641, that Leighton was 
 ordained and admitted minister of Newbottle, in 
 Midlothian, a i)arish in the presbytery of Dalkeith. 
 No pains have been spared to retrieve traditional remi- 
 niscences of the manner in which this exemplary pastor 
 discharo'ed the duties of an office which he w^us so 
 rehgiously fearful of undertaking. But research has 
 been fruitless. No traces remain of his parochial 
 ministrations, which doubtless fill an ample page in 
 that book of Divine remembrance, from which no work 
 of faith, no labour of love, is ever obliterated. 
 
 Of the general tenor, however, of his life and 
 ministerial occupations, we have a few invaluable 
 noiices in Burnet's History of his own Time. En- 
 grossed with the care of his parish, he seldom mixed in 
 the convocations of the presbyters, to whom indeed 
 he was obnoxious, because he condemned their prac- 
 tice of descanting on the Covenant fnjm the pulpit, 
 and their stern determination to force that bitter morsel 
 OH conscientious objectors. It was his aim to win
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XVU 
 
 converts to Jesus Christ, not proselytes to a party. 
 And exemplary indeed must he have been, if that 
 picture of a finished evangelist, which his intimate 
 friend has produced in the beautiful Discourse of 
 the Pastoral Care, was faithfully copied from the 
 lively pattern exhibited by Leighton. Yet the blame- 
 less sanctity of his manners, his professional excel- 
 lence, and his studious inofFensiveness, were not 
 enough to content the zealots of his church. In 
 a synod he was publicly reprimanded for not " preach- 
 ing 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 Christ Jesus and 
 eternity." 
 
 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 thought himself bound to set an ex- 
 ample to his flock of intrepid loyalty. In the year 
 1648, he acceded to the Engagement for the King ; 
 a step which would have involved him in serious 
 trouble with the republican government, but for the 
 interposition of the Earl of Lothian, and the charm of 
 his personal character. When the Engagement ex- 
 pired in the discomfiture of those enterprises to 
 which it had given birth, he was placed in a very 
 delicate predicament ; in which, however, his beha- 
 viour was creditable not less to his political discretion, 
 than to his Christian boldness and integrity. Called 
 
 Vol. I. b
 
 Xviii THE LIFE OF 
 
 upon in his official capacity to admonish some of his 
 parishioners, — from whom there was apubhc profession 
 of repentance for their concern in that very Engage- 
 ment to which he had himself subscribed, — he directed 
 their consciences to the many offences against mo- 
 rality and religion which they had committed in the 
 course of their military service ; and of these, without 
 touching on the grounds of the expedition and the 
 merits of their cause, he solemnly charged them to 
 repent. 
 
 About this time, we find him in correspondence 
 with several of the episcopal clergy, and especially 
 with Bishop Burnet's father. His mind seems to 
 have been led, by observing the faults under 
 which the presbyterian discipline labours, to an 
 attentive examination of the episcopal form, notwith- 
 standing the antipathy to it wliich had been instilled 
 into him with his mother's milk, and which must have 
 been augmented by a pious resentment of his father's 
 sufferings. Although Leighton never considered any 
 particular mode of ecclesiastical polity a point of suffi- 
 cient moment to justify schism, yet it is clear that 
 from this time he regarded the episcopal model as 
 adapted beyond any other to the edification of the 
 church universal. 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 unriohteous motives have conduced are 
 usually characterized by extraordinary bitterness 
 against the deserted party ; whereas Leighton, after
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XlX 
 
 becoming a moderate episcopalian, breathed nothing* 
 towards his former associates but good- will and kind- 
 ness. He wholly sequestered himself, indeed, from 
 their legislative conclaves, and at length relinquished 
 his cure. But he took this last step, not from any 
 scruple about continuing to officiate in a church of 
 Calvinistic construction, but from hearty repugnance 
 to that system of spiritual despotism, which had been 
 linked by violent and ambitious men with the pres- 
 byterian cause. 
 
 It must have been in the latter part of his resi- 
 dence at Newbottle that a calamity befel him, which 
 gave occasion to a striking manifestation of his indif 
 ference to money, of his large-heartedness and piety. 
 At his father's death, he came into possession of 
 about a thousand pounds, which constituted his whole 
 property. This sum he placed, or allowed to remain, 
 in the hands of a merchant without adequate security, 
 notwithstanding the remonstrances of Mr. Lightmaker, 
 his brother-in-law, who urged him to come up to Lon- 
 don and invest it more safely. Leighton's reply to this 
 good counsel is highly characteristic : — 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I thank you for your letter. That you give me no- 
 tice of I desire to consider as becomes a Christian, and to 
 prepare to wait for my own removal. What business follows 
 upoii 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 belonging 
 to me may possibly be useful and needful for my subsistence ; 
 but truly, if something else draw me not, I shall never bestow 
 
 b2
 
 XX THE LIFE OF 
 
 SO long a journey on that I account so mean a business. Re- 
 member my love to my sister your wife, and to my brother and 
 sister llathband, as you have opportunity. I am glad to hear 
 of the welfiu-e of you all, and above all things wish for myself 
 and you all our daily increase in likeness to Jesus Christ, and 
 growing heavenwards, where he is who is our treasure. To 
 his grace I recommend you. 
 Sir, 
 
 Your affectionate brother, 
 December 31, 1G49. li. Lkighton. 
 
 Before long- the event anticipated by Mr. Light- 
 maker took phice. Tlie merchant tailed, and Leighton's 
 patrimony was irretrievably lost. How he took this 
 misfortune may be gathered from the following letter 
 to his brother-in-law : — 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your kind advice I cannot but thank you for, but I am 
 
 not easily taught that lesson. 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 every body. 
 Yet I will endeavour 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 ! how poor are 
 they to the ]K)rti()n of believers, where our treasure is. 
 
 That little that was in Mr. 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 nionunt is passing away, and all the 
 hazards of want and .sickness shall be at an end. j\Iy mother 
 writes to me, and pn sses my coming up. 1 know not yet if 
 that can be; b\it 1 iiitLiKJ, God willing, so soon as I can con- 
 veniently, if 1 come not, to take some course that things be 
 done as if I were there, I h()j)e you will have patience in the
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXI 
 
 mean time. Remember my love to my sisters. The Lord be 
 with you, and lead you in his ways. 
 
 Your loving Brother, 
 Newbottle, II. Leighton. 
 
 Feb. 4th, 1650. 
 
 Being in England some time afterwards, his recent 
 loss was touched upon by Mr. Lightmaker, who re- 
 gretted 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 New- 
 castle, after losing nineteen times as much of yearly 
 income, can dance and sing, while the solid hopes of 
 Christianity will not avail to support us^ we had better 
 be as the world." 
 
 Somewhere about this time, — for the date cannot 
 be assigned with certainty, — an event occurred which 
 drew forth a proof of his admirable self-possession 
 in the sudden prospect of death. He had taken the 
 water at the Savoy stairs, in company with his brother 
 Sir Ellis, the knight's lady, and some others, and was 
 on his way to Lambeth, when, owing to some misma- 
 nagement, the boat was in imminent danger of sinking'. 
 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 afterwards 
 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
 
 Xxii THE LIFE OF 
 
 the habit of dyiii<r 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 history. During the civil wars, 
 when the royalist army was lying in Scotland, Leigh- 
 ton was anxious to visit his brother who bore arms 
 in the king's service, before an engagement, which 
 was daily expected, should take place. On his 
 way to the camp he was benighted in the midst of a 
 vast thicket ; and, having deviated from the path, he 
 sought in vain for an outlet. Almost spent with 
 fatigue and hunger, he began to think his situation 
 desperate, and dismounting, spread his cloak upon 
 the ground, and knelt down to pray. With im- 
 plicit devotion he resigned his soul to God ; entreat- 
 ing, however, that if it were not the divine plea- 
 sure for him then to conclude his days, some way 
 of deliverance might be opened. Then remounting 
 his horse, he threw the reins upon its neck ; and the 
 animal left to itself, or rather to the conduct of Al- 
 mighty Providence, made straight into the high road, 
 threading all the mazes of the wood with unerring 
 certainty. 
 
 In the year 1652, after eleven years of close resi- 
 dence on his cure, Leighton tendered his resignation 
 to tlie ])resbytery. At first it was declined, but in 
 the year following they were induced to accept it; and 
 on Feljruary 3, 1053, his ministerial connexion with
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXIU 
 
 Newbottle was dissolved. Shortly after this affair, 
 he was chosen Primar or Principal of the University 
 of Edinburgh, a situation which he was the rather pre- 
 vailed upon to accept, because it was totally uncon- 
 nected with the church as a body politic. It was 
 hardly possible that at such a period of civil dissen- 
 sion his election should be unanimous ; but, although 
 it was not cordially approved by all parties, such 
 was the homage paid to his superlative merit, that it 
 encountered no direct opposition. It appears that, 
 upon the death of Principal Adamson, in 1 652, 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 al- 
 lowed to the deposed warden, to compensate his trouble 
 and expense in coming over from Holland. As this 
 gentleman was known for his monarchical principles, 
 it is probable that the obstructions hinted at proceeded 
 from Oliver Cromwell ; for it is certain that, about 
 this time, the principals of King's College, Aberdeen, 
 of Glasgow, and of St. Andrew's, paid the forfeit of 
 their stubborn loyalty with their academical places. 
 The very same day on which the office was declared 
 vacant, Leighton was chosen to it. The ministers of 
 the city, who were partial to Colville, a man of real 
 worth and talent, assisted at the election of his suc- 
 cessor in obedience to the charter, but refused to con-
 
 XXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 cur ill it ; at the same time expressing' a wish that 
 their attendance 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 lec- 
 ture on some theological subject. These prelections, 
 which are fortunately preserved, attracted such 
 general admiration, that the public hall in which he 
 pronounced them used to be thronged with auditors, 
 who were enchanted with the purity of his style 
 and his animated delivery. To the students under 
 his care he was indefatigably attentive, instructing 
 them singly as well as collectively ; and to many 
 youths of capacity and distinction his wise and affec 
 tionate exhortations were lastingly beneficial. 
 
 Of his proceedings, while he held this academical 
 post, some particulars are extant, which bespeak him 
 gifted with talents for active business. Two years after 
 his appointment, he was deputed by the Provost and 
 Council, to a])ply to the Protector in London for an 
 augmentation of the revenues of the College. A minute 
 of the Town Council Register indicates that his mission 
 was successful. 
 
 The year following, he called the attention of the 
 magistrates to a report of some suspicious houses 
 having been detected in the neighbourhood of the 
 
 * See Bower's Hist, of the Univ. of Edin., vol. i. pp. 261, 
 263, &c.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXV 
 
 college ; and effectual measures were set on foot,, at his 
 instigation, for extirpating the nuisance. 
 
 Neither was he regardless of those subordinate 
 establishments, to which, as they were not compre- 
 hended within the immediate circle of his duties, a 
 Principal of austerer dignity, or of inferior zeal, might 
 not have condescended. Observing that the colle- 
 gians 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. In order to remedy this evil he 
 proposed that grammar schools should be founded 
 in the several presbyteries, and suitably endowed; 
 and he advised that Cromwell should be solicited to 
 assign the funds requisite for this purpose, " out of 
 the concealed revenues of the Kirk rents." He 
 further recommended that some elementary grammar, 
 part English and part Latin, should be compiled for 
 the use of these seminaries ; and in order to take 
 immediate advantage of the Protector's bounty, should 
 he graciously accede to their petition, he moved that 
 instructions be issued forthwith to magistrates, mi- 
 nisters, 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 col- 
 lege hall to the scholars, once on the sabbath of every 
 third or fourth week, taking turns with the professors ; 
 an offer which appears to have been accepted by the 
 Town Council. 
 
 Bound up with the book entitled Naphtali, is a
 
 XXVI THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 
 subscribe the National Covenant and the Solemn 
 Leaoue and Covenant, which were tendered to him 
 alono- with the other candidates for Laureation, A. D. 
 1656_, by the Principal Leighton*. There seems no 
 reason to question the veracity of this statement. It 
 was quite consistent with Leighton's principles to 
 submit to existing authorities ; and to consider this 
 or the other form of government, whether in church 
 or state, a point of vastly inferior importance to con- 
 cord and quietness. Against the matter of the 
 covenants 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 persons. Assuredly he would 
 not have originated the order for withholding degrees 
 from the Scholars till they professed their allegiance 
 to the dominant system. Still it would argue a keen 
 censoriousness, to blame him for proposing to the 
 students, in his ofTicial capacity, a test of their attach- 
 ment 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 deoree. 
 
 Leighton retained the situation of principal in the 
 
 * See Naplilali, 17G1, p. 373 ; and Wodrow MSS.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXVll 
 
 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 gentleman'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 Leigh ton's life ; — the epoch of his inauguration 
 to the episcopal office in Scotland. It was not to be 
 expected, that the son of a noted confessor in the 
 cause of ecclesiastical parity would be allowed to 
 transfer his allegiance to prelacy without incur- 
 ring censures of the sharpest edge. In the spring- 
 tide of civil and religious bigotry, such a deed was 
 sure to undergo the most unfavourable construction ; 
 for even in the present day, when every grudge has 
 died away between the two national churches, there 
 are few Scottish writers but regard this transaction as 
 a sable spot on the character of Leighton, which 
 it were an extravagant charity to impute solely to a 
 misleading judgment. Being myself satisfied, after 
 attentive examination, both of the soundness of his 
 judgment and of his probity 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 eleva- 
 tion to the bench, with a succinct account of the religious 
 condition of Scotland at that period. 
 
 Charles the Second, when first he recovered the 
 throne of his fathers, was welcomed with every 
 demonstration of delight. To the eyes of an excited
 
 XXVUl THE LIFE OF 
 
 multitude his return was that of a tutelary deity^ 
 whose exil liad shed a blight upon their wealth 
 and happiness_, and with whose presence their civil 
 and religious prosperity was identified. Through- 
 out the country this event was celebrated with 
 intemperate festivities. The whole nation was in 
 a frenzy of joy ; and seemed anxious to indemnify 
 itself for the restraints which puritanical austerity 
 had imposed^ by giving- the loose rein to indul- 
 g-ences that were but too cong-enial with the young- 
 King's disposition, and that fostered in him those 
 licentious habits which have consiii'ued his reign to 
 the most ignominious page of English history. It 
 is remarkable that Scotland shared largely, as Kirk- 
 ton pathetically owns, in the popular intoxication. 
 A covenanted prince established on the throne of 
 the British Islands was a sight to unhinge the habitual 
 sobriety of the rigid })resbytcrians ; 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 describe it would be 
 superfluous. By the iion hand of Cromwell epis- 
 copacy had been displaced to make way for the 
 congregational discipline, which was brought in 
 over the heads of the outwitted and indignant 
 presbyterians. But the temper of the English 
 nation was ill-suited to this ecclesiastical consti- 
 tution, wiiiih was generally borne with impatience.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXIX 
 
 and melted away, like a snow-wreath, the instant it 
 felt the touch of reviving monarchy. Little time 
 was lost in removing the intrusive ministers from the 
 benefices, colleges, and other preferments, of which 
 they had possessed themselves ; nor did any mate- 
 rial disturbance result from the discontent of the 
 ejected party. In the facility with which the re- 
 establishment of episcopacy was effected there was 
 nothing to surprise a considerate observer. The 
 Cranmers, the Ridleys, the Latimers, the Hoopers, 
 the Jewels, these mitred confessors and martyrs, who 
 had borne the brunt of that dreadful contest in which 
 this nation burst the chains of a debasing supersti- 
 tion, were canonized in every English bosom : " 
 whereas, of the advantages peculiar to the presby- 
 terian economy the experience had been short and 
 unsatisfactory. Hence no movement could be easier 
 in England than a recurrence to the episcopal con- 
 stitution. 
 
 But far other were the predilections of our 
 northern brethren. However just the claim of epis- 
 copacy may be to the filial reverence of the Church 
 of Scotland, it is nevertheless notorious that, at the 
 dawn of the Reformation, the dignitaries of that church 
 opposed the strong current of popular feeling and opi- 
 nion ; and by cruelties not less impolitic than wicked 
 exasperated to the utmost a nation always sternly 
 tenacious of its sentiments, and of its resentments of 
 real or supposed injuries. The reformation of Scot- 
 land originated witii teachers of the Lutheran per- 
 suasion, by whom neither a liturgical service, nor a
 
 XXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 graduated scale of ecclesiastical authorities, was ac- 
 counted a popish abomination. But some of Calvin's 
 disciples, to whom it fell to complete the excellent 
 work, not content with introducing- their master's doc- 
 trinal code, as the only true interpretation of the gos- 
 pel, coupled with it his plan of church polity, as 
 hardly inferior in sanctity and importance to his theo- 
 logical system itself. None but a novice in human 
 nature will be indignant at the early reformers, 
 for carrying to an undue extent their abhorrence of 
 whatever seemed to savour of popery. Yet assuredly 
 that abhorrence was excessive. Those especially of 
 the Genevese church appear to have estimated their 
 proximity to the faultless institutes of Jesus 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, out- 
 rageous, and untractable through its union with animal 
 passions, when transfused into the breasts of the un- 
 civilized 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 contemplate ; and 
 whose successes in a warfare of extraordinary difli- 
 culty have raised an imperishable monument to their 
 rare endowments, their sleepless zeal, their intrepid
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXXI 
 
 boldness, their uncompromisino" honesty, their sublime 
 devotion. Yet it cannot be disguised, that nothing- 
 graceful appears in their robust and sinewy propor- 
 tions. They were rough artificers, and they worked 
 with rough tools; preferring a rapid execution of their 
 projects by main force to the tardier results of address 
 and dexterity. Much might be urged to extenuate, 
 and even to justify, the violence of their proceedings. 
 It is not, however, my present business to calculate 
 the merits, or to palliate the errors, of the great 
 Scotch reformers ; a task which has been ably exe- 
 cuted by Dr. M'Crie, in his interesting 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 Scotch- 
 men to presbyterianism breaks out, may have his 
 mind constantly awake to the fact, that it was under 
 the presbyterian banner that protestantism triumphed 
 in their land. To this it was owing that, in vulgar 
 estimation, the pure faith of the gospel was so incor- 
 porated with the calvinistic form of church-govern- 
 ment, as to be unable to survive a separation. A 
 shrine, framed exactly on that pattern, was deemed 
 indispensable for obtaining the inhabitation of the 
 Deity. Accordingly, when James I. endeavoured, to- 
 wards the close of the sixteenth century, to impose on 
 Scotland a dilute and modified episcopacy, his enter- 
 prise, though conducted as stealthily as possible and 
 with characteristic craft, was met by a resistance under 
 which it soon expired. With the disastrous attempts
 
 XXXll THE LIFE OF 
 
 of his son to assimilate the Kirk to its sister Church, 
 by reviving' prelacy and introducing- a litujgy, 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 meddling- with 
 national prejudices, and of making such headlong in- 
 roads into the sanctuary of the conscience, as men of 
 honour and principle 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 his 
 good people of Scotland that ecclesiastical discipline, 
 which they had so recently and loathingly repudiated. 
 To this attempt, which would have been imprudent 
 in any monarch, and in Charles was utterly base and 
 unprincipled, we may notice some strong inducements. 
 Foremost among these may be placed the strong dis- 
 like which that prince had conceived to the cove- 
 nanters. He had indeed been sharply schooled by them 
 when struggling for the throne ; and he was perfectly 
 aware that, in promoting his restoration^, they had not 
 been actuated by attachment to his person, 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 temple. 
 Charles, however, whose memory had a rare facility 
 of shaking off claims upon his gratitude, forgot the 
 services of the party which had lavished its blood in his 
 b(.'li;iir, but remembered the humiliations by which those 
 services had been purchased. Nor can it be doubted 
 that he designed in this enterprise to lay the basis of a
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXXlll 
 
 tyrannical throne ; — an hereditary propensity^ which was 
 doubtless auo-mented by the tremendous blow that had 
 recently alighted on his family from the popular arm of 
 the British constitution^ and to which a new edge may 
 have been given by the display he had witnessed in the 
 French court of the manifold attractions of an irre- 
 sponsible despotism. He conceived, moreover^ that 
 through episcopacy a door might be opened^ in process 
 of time, for the admission of popery, which system Oi 
 religion he adopted, apparently on no better ground 
 than its singular aptitude for promoting his arbitrary 
 designs. Nor were mercenary intriguers wanting, to 
 urge him forward by depicting Scotland with her arms 
 already open to embrace an hierarchical establishment ; 
 and when these representations were enforced by his 
 ablest ministers, he could no longer resist so strong a 
 combination of incentives to an experiment, the success 
 of which would infinitely gratify his corrupt ambition. 
 
 For achieving this project, it was obviously ex- 
 pedient to set about it before presbyterianism had 
 recovered from the shock it had received during 
 Cromwell's usurpation, and while the nation was still 
 glowing with bridal enthusiasm at the union with its 
 desired sovereign. Whether it would have been prac- 
 ticable, as some have imagined, by taking advantage 
 of the jealousy which the Presbyterians harboured 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 
 
 Vor.. I. . c
 
 XXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 to a fortunate issue by the agents to whose conduct 
 it was intrusted. To have given it any fair chance 
 of success, there should have been employed upon it 
 men of experience, abilities and virtue ; men equally 
 wary and resolute, delicate in managing national pre- 
 judicesj and strong to arrest, or skilful to turn, the 
 stream of epidemical passions ; men of popular talent 
 and conciliatory address, and whose moral and religious 
 character would stamp some credit on proceedings^ 
 which, how fairly soever adorned^ must still carry an 
 ungracious aspect. 
 
 But, instead of such a choice being made, the royal 
 commission was given to Middleton, a man of base 
 origin and baser manners, obstinate, choleric, licen- 
 tious, and cruel. His coadjutor was Dr. James Sharp, 
 whose memory is still execrated by the Presbyterian 
 church, and whose virtues were not sufBciently impo- 
 sing, 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 personal character is 
 blackened. That religious bigotry has mangled his corse 
 will be clear to any one who shall calmly separate au- 
 thentic facts from baseless and improbable allegations. 
 The readers of Wodrow and Kirkton ought to receive 
 their charges against Sharp with no common jealousy, 
 as those historians themselves are far from weighing 
 him ill an even balance. Bishop Burnet, whose deli- 
 neations are occasionally tinctured with private disUkes,
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXXV 
 
 has left a very ill-favoured portrait of his moral charac- 
 ter, describing' him as quite devoid of serious reli^ion^ an 
 artful sycophant whose integrity readily truckled to his 
 worldly interests. On the other hand^ some favourable 
 representations of him have appeared. It has been 
 averred^ that he is cruelly traduced in the heavy charge 
 of having- betrayed his trust_, since he had ceased, be- 
 fore 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 understanding. Of his bountifulness also such 
 proofs have been adduced as it would be uncandid to 
 disallow. The truth probably is, that Sharp was 
 honest, so long as his honesty was unassailed by con- 
 siderable temptations ; but he was not proof against the 
 fascination of a mitre. Having neither firmness of 
 principle, nor tenderness of conscience, nor delicacy of 
 honour, he might easily persuade himself that, since no 
 opposition on his part could check the refluent tide of 
 episcopacy, to rise with it to the summit of wealth and 
 dignity would be no illaudable wisdom. For the great 
 affairs 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 suc- 
 cessfully, by the utter disrepute into which he had fallen 
 with his countrymen. But he was an industrious man^ 
 of some versatility of talent and dexterity in business ; 
 and these useful qualities^ combined with those prime 
 requisites for currying favour with an unprincipled 
 court, a supple conscience, a patient obsequiousness^ 
 
 c2
 
 XXXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 and a wheedling' tongue, attracted tlie royal notice, 
 and merited for him the primacy of Scotland. 
 
 Matters being thus far advanced towards 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 Icas't laborious see, and there- 
 fore the best adapted to a man almost past his work, 
 but who could not, without 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 Clarendon, the appointments to 
 the inferior sees were given very much into his hands. 
 We have Bin-net'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 Alexander Burnet, we find the venerable 
 name of Robert Leigh ton : — 
 
 quale per artem 
 
 Iiiclusum buxo, aut Oricia tereV)inthoj 
 Lucet cbur. 
 
 The credit, however, of this nomination is denied to 
 Sharp ; and it does seem impossible that he sliould 
 have approved it, unless he were ignorant, which he 
 hardly could be, of Leighton's character. 
 
 The fallowing are the circumstances which led to the 
 exaltation of this extraordinary man to a sj)here of 
 stormy greatness, wherein his apostolic virtues gilded
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXXVH 
 
 the gloom^ which it exceeded even their influence to 
 dispel. 
 
 During' the academical vacations, Leighton was in 
 the habit 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 passing 
 homeward through London, after a visit to Bath, 
 when he was first mentioned to the King as a desir- 
 able person to include among the new bishops. The 
 recommendation came from Lord Aubigny, a noble- 
 man high in favour at court, as well on account of his 
 being a j^apist and privy to Charles's apostasy, as 
 because his libertine principles were congenial with 
 those of his graceless sovereign. With this powerful 
 courtier Sir Ellis Leighton, secretary to the Duke of 
 York, was on terms of intimacy ; and having himself 
 turned papist for mercenary purposes, he now desired, 
 from no higher motives, the advancement of his brother 
 to episcopal dignity. He was a man of talent, spe- 
 cious and aspiring ; and he pretended to a piety which 
 his dissolute life belied. Imag-ining- that a mitre in his 
 family would augment his personal consequence, and 
 thus conduce to his further aggrandizement^ he was at 
 pains to possess the mind of Lord Aubigny with a high 
 conceit of the advantages that would result from ap- 
 pointing a man like Robert Leighton to nurse the 
 critical hifancy of the episcopal church. Charles, who 
 never wanted acuteness, was not hard to be persuaded, 
 that, in order to soothe the covenanters and accredit the 
 meditated innovation^ it would be highly politic to
 
 XXXVlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 invest with the lawn a divine of such acknowledged 
 merit, so accomplished in learning, and so beloved for 
 his mild and saintly virtues. This would indeed be 
 to introduce prelacy in a garb the most amiable and 
 specious. Believing also^ as deeply depraved minds 
 believe to their own curse, that every man's conscience 
 accommodates itself to his interests, he never doubted 
 but that Leighton might be wrought upon by his 
 brother to acquiesce in episcopacy being made a stalk- 
 inghorse to cover the approaches of popery. 
 
 On this he probably counted with the greater assur- 
 ance, in consequence of a current report that Leighton 
 was not unfriendly to some parts of the pontifical con- 
 stitutions ; 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 habit, and an admiration for some of the 
 disciples of Jansenius, which he was too highminded 
 and ingenuous to dissemble. It was indeed more than 
 insinuated, that^he was too liberally affected towards 
 the catholics for a staunch and thorough protestant; 
 and the commendations he bestowed in his public lec- 
 tures on the works of Thomas a Kempis did not 
 escape severe animadversions. To attempt a serious 
 confutation 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 op- 
 posite to the self-righteous formalities and unscriptural 
 impositions, which are interwoven with the very sub-
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XXXIX 
 
 stance of that adulterous system. So long" as the cur- 
 rent of passion bore down, with undistinguishing- fury, 
 upon whatever was suspected, whether in doctrine or 
 practice, of being allied to papistry, it was worthy of 
 his benignant and liberal spirit to do what he could 
 towards dispelling prejudices, by which the mind was 
 prevented from seeing clearly to weed out the faults, 
 without sacrificing the excellencies, of the Catholic 
 ritual. But when he saw that a contrary and more 
 dangerous current had set in from the English court, and 
 that nothing less was designed than to restore to the 
 Vatican its ascendency, he 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 acquiesce in it was overcome only by a 
 peremptory order of the Court, requiring him to accept 
 it, unless he thought in his conscience that the episcopal 
 office was unlawful. Unable to screen himself behind 
 this opinion, he complied at length with the royal 
 instances, that he might not be chargeable with contu- 
 macy towards the King, nor incur the heavier guilt of 
 recoiling from a service, to which a far greater Poten- 
 tate seemed to call him. 
 
 Perhaps this transaction, which has been thought to 
 cast a shade on his constancy and disinterestedness, 
 may appear to the candid and intelligent reasoner, 
 when it is thoroughly sifted, to exhibit those qualities 
 with singular lustre. Taking in the whole system of
 
 XL THE LIFE OF 
 
 his life before and after his consecration, we see hiin 
 an example of modesty, gravity, and habitual recollec- 
 tedncss of spirit ; a despiser of riches, and honours, and 
 selfish indulgences ; an exile in heart from this world 
 of sensible objects ; one whose prime dehght 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 temper and these habits was carried out of 
 himself by such a tlush of ambition and vanity, as pre- 
 cluded any due consideration of the manner in which his 
 credit, his conscience, and his happiness would be 
 affected by his elevation, is to suppose a phenomenon 
 that could not be made credible without evidence 
 which in this case is totally wanting. Covetousness 
 could never be laid to his charge without a contempt of 
 historical testimony too indecent for his keenest enemies 
 to venture on. When, moreover, the soundness of his 
 understanding, and the rigour 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 circumstances 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 
 labours, he reaped a plentiful harvest of obloquy, dis- 
 appointment, and sorrow. Not long after his advance- 
 ment, when some of his former friends upbraided him 
 with his dereliction of his father's principles, contume- 
 liously terming it apostasy, he calmly answered that 
 no man was bound to be of his fathers opinions; and 
 whenever he was challenged to vindicate the obnoxious
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XLl 
 
 step he had taken, he manifested a frankness and 
 good humour which could not have cohabited with an 
 offended conscience. 
 
 What then remains but to beheve that this trans- 
 action was in strict accordance with his magnanimous 
 character ; that it was an act of self-immolaiion on 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 la- 
 borious, no sacrifice too costly? Fortunately there 
 is a letter preserved, written at the time he was 
 in 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 beautifully illustrating the 
 conflict of his mind, before it was subdued to this 
 great effort of duty. 
 
 The letter is to the Rev. Mr. James Aird, Minister 
 at Torry. 
 
 My DEAU 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 httle con- 
 temptible scraps of honour or riches sought in that part of the 
 world, with so much reproach, or any liuman complacency in
 
 XLll THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 retirement for a j-attle, far less deliberately do any thing 
 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 offend 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 necessity 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 reconciling the devout on 
 different sides, and of enlarging those good souls you meet 
 with from their little fetters, though possibly with little suc- 
 cess ? Yet the design is commendable, pardonable at least. 
 However, one comfort 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 any thing in all my life : 
 the difficulty in short lies in a necessity of either owning a 
 scruple which I have not, or the rudest disobedience to autho- 
 rity that may be. The truth is, I am yet importuning and 
 struggling for a liberation, and look upward for it : but what- 
 soever be the issue, I look beyond it, and this weary, weary 
 wretched life, througli which the hand I liave resigned to I trust 
 Avill 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 unalter'd Brother and Friend, 
 
 11. L.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XLlll 
 
 When I set pen to paper, I intended not to exceed half a 
 dozen lines, but slid on insensibly thus far; but though I 
 should fill the paper on all sides, still the right view of this 
 business would be necessarily suspended till meeting. Mean- 
 while hope Avell of me, and pray for me. This word 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 haircloth : and whether any will believe 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 episcopalians 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 feebleness, if it were 
 
 not altogether visionary, does the value rise of the 
 
 sacrifices he made to reaUse it ; for the dignity of its 
 
 object none will dispute. Had it been possible for 
 
 human virtue to prevent the bloody discord, which 
 
 shortly overcast the spiritual firmament, 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 famiUarity of 
 
 twenty-two years' standing, and under every variety of 
 
 provocation, and to an address 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 churches, as peculiarly fitted 
 
 him to stand in the gap, the angel of reconciliation 
 
 and concord. It is true, indeed, that success has rarely
 
 XLIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 followed attempts to restore coinpactness to a re- 
 ligious body, after once it has been violently divided. 
 For the most part the cure of religious dissensions 
 is unhopeful, in proportion as the ground of them is 
 trivial : because the ditiiculty of allaying the passions 
 of men corresponds with the degree in which those 
 passions 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 
 difierences expand into gulphs which separate sal- 
 vation from perdition, the rather perhaps for the 
 conscience being honest where the mind is not ade- 
 quately enlightened. No violent measures, no sum- 
 mary process, can effect a cordial union of bodies of 
 men disunited in matters of conscience. Yet, let 
 time be allowed for factions to disband and irritations 
 to abate; let proper measures be pursued for pre- 
 venting untoward collisions, and for bringing those 
 who are jealous of each other into contact at points, 
 in which a mutual attraction w'ill be exerted ; and it 
 may happen that, uniting in affection one to another, 
 they will at length agree in sentiment also ; or, at 
 least, their speculative differences will cease to create 
 baneful and scandalous schisms. 
 
 Leighton doubtless hoped that, by a mild and graci- 
 ous exercise of his episcopal jurisdiction, he should 
 propitiate most of the covenanters, whose hostility to 
 moderate episcopacy he might suppose to be relenting, 
 from the a^'owed desire for it of the synod of Aber- 
 deen, and from the a])parent conformity of two-thirds 
 of the ministers. The re-establishment of the ancient
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XLV 
 
 monarchy, an event so grateful to patriots of both 
 persuasions, he considered a favourable crisis for 
 "" causing- contentions to cease," and for drowning- 
 private grudges and public feuds in an ocean of 
 christian love and universal prosperity. He might 
 hope, moreover, that by his personal influence with the 
 kinof, to whom his brother's situation at court would 
 facilitate his access, he should be able to keep in check 
 the violent partisans of prelacy, and to curb that 
 headlong" precipitance of inuovation, of which some por- 
 tentous symptoms had already appeared in the royal 
 councils. In the latter objects he did not entirely fail : 
 for he effectually shielded from molestation the non- 
 conformists in his own diocese; and more than once, 
 as we shall see hereafter, he converted the king to 
 moderate measures, by his bold and faithful repre- 
 sentations. 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 through- 
 out that arduous transaction an illustrious specimen 
 of christian diplomacy, and whose character came 
 forth from it as pure gold seven times tried in the 
 furnace. 
 
 There is one particular in Leighton's conduct in this 
 perplexing- business, which is open to animadversion. 
 I allude to his receiving the orders, first of deacon and 
 then of priest, from the English bishops, previously 
 to his consecration. Sheldon, bishop of London, in- 
 sisted on Sharp and Leighton being- re-ordained^ on
 
 XLVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 tlie plea that tliclr presbyterian ordination was void 
 from the beginning-, it having- been conferred by a 
 church actually in a state of schism^ which vitiated all 
 its acts of administration. Leighton denied the sound- 
 ness of this objection to the validity of his ministry. 
 Yet being little scrupulous^ too little indeed^ about 
 the circumstantials of ecclesiastical polity, he yielded 
 to Sheldon's demand with a readiness, which the re- 
 pugnance evinced to it by Sharp made the more 
 observable. The view he took of the ceremony im- 
 posed upon them was, that the " re-ordaining a priest 
 ordained in another church imported no more, but that 
 they received him into orders according to their own 
 rules ; and did not infer the annulling the orders he 
 had formerly received." Had the English bishops 
 concurred in this view of the subject, Leighton would 
 have stood on solid ground in submitting to a new 
 ordination. But it was their avowed meaning to 
 bestow that upon him, of which in their judgment he 
 was hitherto destitute, — a regular consecration to the 
 ministry of the gospel ; and in this meaning Leighton 
 did apparently acquiesce. His private construction 
 of the ceremony to which he submitted could not 
 change its public aspect and character. It seemed 
 to be levelled at the foundations of presbyterianism, 
 by impeaching the legitimacy of all presbyterian 
 ministers who had received holy orders after epis- 
 copacy was legally resettled in Scotland by King 
 James; and it exasperated not only the clergy who 
 were in that predicament, but many of the laity also, 
 in whose judgment the honour and interests of their
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XLV 
 
 church had been compromised by Leighton's con- 
 cession. 
 
 It is the duty of a faithful historian to avow, that 
 Leighton did not^ in this instance, sufficiently consider 
 the ill impression his compliance would produce on 
 mankind, and how much it might weaken his influence 
 by depressing- him in public estimation to the level of 
 mere worldly calculators. Yet assuredly the real 
 spring of his conduct in this affair was a high-toned 
 spirituality, which led him to 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 ex- 
 quisitely sensible. 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 any thing 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 were especially called for by such an under- 
 taking as remodelling a church, filled his mind with 
 sad presentiments. These were increased, when he 
 found Archbishop Sharp unprepared with any plan for 
 healing the wounds of the church, for expelling its 
 evil humours, 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 
 delay ; and already he had conceived a scheme for 
 the union of parties in Scotland, and for reforming- 
 the public services of religion, and reducing them 
 to a method more adapted to general edification.
 
 XJ .Vlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 But in these christian projects he fonncl no auxilia- 
 ries. 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 under- 
 stand the spirit,, nor disposed to forward the views 
 of Leighton, of whose influence with Lauderdale he 
 had beg'un to conceive a jealousy, and to whose pious 
 disinterestedness the worldliness of his colleasfues 
 stood in disofraceful contrast. Leio-hton's sad fore- 
 bodings W'Cre 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 princi- 
 ples which actuated the episcopalian leaders. In the 
 supercilious recklessness of the infant hierarchy he 
 descried the sure omen of its downfal ; and he re- 
 marked 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, vet 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 twelfth of December, 1661, four of the per- 
 sons designated to the episcopal government of Scot- 
 land received consecration in London ; Leighton being 
 appointed, at his own request, to the inconsiderable see 
 of Dunblane, in Perthshire. Early in the following 
 year, the new bishops proceeded in one coach to Edin- 
 burgh. Between Leighton and his colleagues, however, 
 there was such a want of sympathy, as made it very
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGTITON. XLIX 
 
 irksome to liim to journey in their company ; and hav- 
 ing learnt that it was tlieir intention to make a grand 
 entry into Edinburgh, he quitted them at Morpeth, 
 and arrived 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 escorted 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 weeping, as if unable to endure 
 the splendour of a triumph which prophecy forbade 
 him to decline, unless it were shaded with a cloud of 
 humility and sadness. 
 
 The first measures taken by Sharp and his coad- 
 jutors, if the phable agents of his cupidity deserve to 
 be so named, bore fatal marks of that perverse genius 
 by which they were conceived. Instead of endeavour- 
 ing to subdue the angry spirit of presbyterianism by 
 firm but gentle management, he proceeded to lay on 
 at once the whole weight of episcopal domination. 
 In pursuance of this policy it w^as enacted, even be- 
 fore the Bishops left London, that presbyteries and 
 judicatories should be abohshed. This intemperate 
 decree was followed up by an act, asserting the King's 
 ecclesiastical supremacy, reinstating the bishops in 
 their parliamentary privileges and civil dignities, and 
 conferring on them an exclusive presidency in church 
 meetings, the power of ordination and censure, with 
 whatever else appertains to the administration and 
 
 Vol. I. d
 
 L THE LIFE OF 
 
 jurisdiction of the cliurch. It was added indeed that 
 in the exercise of their functions they were to advise 
 with certain loyal and prudent clerg-ymen. Yet, as 
 their assessors were to be selected by themselves, and 
 were not empowered collectively to enforce an opinion 
 contrary to their diocesan's, it is clear that any check 
 they could maintain on the despotism of the bench 
 would be of small account. All real authority was 
 lodged with the bishop ; and his clerical advisers were 
 mere ciphers, to whom was allotted the unenviable pri- 
 vilege of sharing with their superior the odium of arbi- 
 trary procedings, which they had no power either to 
 prevent or to modify. 
 
 Such was the present scheme of episcopacy, \videly 
 different from that of the year 1612, when the bishops 
 were content to be settled presidents, to have a negative 
 voice in all questions relating to ecclesiastical jurisdic- 
 tion, 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 pre- 
 lacy, was certainly to pour new wine into old bottles. 
 It could not but produce a disastrous explosion. But 
 nothing could stay the precipitance of that misguided 
 man, who seems to have expected, in the pride of new- 
 blown grandeur, that difficulties would vanish at his 
 touch. It is admitted that he never exerted his 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 justifica- 
 tion ; and exhibited the capital solecism in pohcy, 
 of making a legislative invasion of popular rights and
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. Ll 
 
 feeling-s more considerable in the terms of the enact- 
 ment, than it was really meant to be in the execu- 
 tion. 
 
 In his fixed aversion to worldly honours, 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 squeamish- 
 ness, if not from a refinement 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 seek- 
 ing to compound with 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 invitation was requisite to authorise their 
 attendance, but it was deemed a proper token of re- 
 spect. By all, except the Bishop of Dunblane, the 
 call was obeyed. He resolved from the beginning 
 never to mix in parliament, unless some matter affect- 
 ing the interests of religion were in agitation ; and to 
 this resolution he steadily adhered. 
 
 His first appearance in parliament was on the ques- 
 tion respecting the oath of supremacy. 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 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 
 
 d 2
 
 LU THE LIFE OF 
 
 a handle by which the sovereig-n might interfere^ at 
 pleasure, and with absolute authority, in the internal 
 regulation of the church. In England such explana- 
 tions were given, when the oath was tendered, as 
 brought it within the compass of a presbyterian con- 
 science. But when it was required by the Earl of 
 Cassilis, and by other stout covenanters in the parlia- 
 ment of Scotland, that the necessary qualification for 
 reconciling its provisions to their scruples should be 
 inserted into the body of the act^ or at least be sub- 
 joined to their subscriptions, the High Commissioner 
 would not listen to the demand. Leighton now 
 stepped forward the fearless champion, the eloquent 
 advocate, of moderation and charity. He maintained 
 that trammelling men's consciences with so many 
 rigorous oaths could produce only 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 re- 
 fused to take it without guarding against an evil con- 
 struction, ought not to be derided. The English 
 papists had obtained this indulgence ; and it were 
 strange indeed if protestants were to be more hardly 
 treated. When, in reply to this spirited remonstrance, 
 it was contended by Sharp, that the complaining party, 
 in the day of its ascendency, had been little tender of 
 the consciences of those who revolted at the Solemn 
 League and Covenant, Leighton set before them the 
 unworthiness of retahating by measures which had 
 been so justly reprobated ; and he emphatically pointed 
 out the nobler course, of heaping coals of fire upon tlnj
 
 • ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LIU 
 
 heads of adversaries, by the contrast of episcopal mild- 
 ness with presbyterian severity. For them to practise, 
 for the base purpose of quitting scores, the same rigour 
 against which they had vehemently protested when 
 themselves were the victims, would be a foul blot 
 on their christian character, and would justify the 
 sarcasm, that the world goes mad hy 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 ambiguous cast, 
 which should deter the stiffer covenanters from taking 
 it, and thus bring them under the penalties of dis- 
 loyalty. One cannot without pain admit an opinion, 
 that bears so hard upon the probity and humanity of 
 the royal party. Yet this would not be a solitary in- 
 stance of an oath being artfully shaped to entrap per- 
 sons 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 ju- 
 diciously and sincerely attempted at the outset, might 
 have been accomplished ; but there were some evil 
 spirits at work, ''whose device it was plainly again to 
 scatter us ; and the terms of comprehension were made 
 so strait, in order to keep men out." It was a trans- 
 action, however, that gave a splendid prominence to his 
 own extraordinary virtues, to his enlightened charity, 
 his inexorable honesty, and his generous courage. 
 
 Leighton thought with St. x\ugustin, that a bishop- 
 ric is not intended for a pastime and amusement : 
 *' Episcopatus noii est artificmm transigendce vitcv." 
 He therefore resided constantly on his see^ and his
 
 UV TIJE LIFE OF 
 
 holy ministrations watered the places about him with a 
 blessing-. Not content to repose in lazy state, he re- 
 g-arded himself as a shepherd of souls, and went about 
 from parish to parish, catechising and preaching" ; and 
 the poor of Dunblane even now point out the corner of 
 the hearth at which he used to sit conversing with their 
 fathers. But his Drimarv aim was to "heal the foun- 
 tains ;" for he justly considered that if ministers were to 
 become sound in doctrine_, exemplary in personal con- 
 duct, and sedulous in pastoral duties, the effect of 
 their spirituality and zeal would quickly shew itself in 
 the amended state of their parishes. It would be diffi- 
 cult to do justice to the sense he entertained of the 
 immense responsibility of christian ministers. For him- 
 self, as his practice bears witness,, he always desired the 
 smallest cure ; partly from native humility, and partly 
 from an apprehension, so vivid as to be almost terrible, 
 of the account which must be given in by spiritual over- 
 seers at the great tribunal. Often would he commise- 
 rate those of the London clergy, the extent of whose 
 cures made it impracticable to pay each individual of 
 their flock the attention 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 ale-houses." As one of the faults 
 imputed to the episcopal clergy was unskilfulness in 
 preaching, he was solicitous to remove from his own 
 diocese all colour for tiiis allegation. This he knew 
 Could never be effected, until the pul])its'were filled by 
 holy men. '' It is vain/' he would say, "for any one
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LV 
 
 to speak of divine thing-s, without something- of divine 
 affections. An ung"odly clergyman must feel uneasy 
 when preaching- godliness, and will hardly preach it 
 persuasively. He has not been able to prevail on him- 
 self to be holy,, and no marvel if he fail of prevailing 
 on others. In truth, he is in great danger of becoming 
 hardened against religion 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, affords a beautiful 
 specimen of christian politeness, at the same time that 
 it lets us into the Bishop's sense of the temper and 
 affection with which a charge of souls should be under- 
 taken. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 There is one place indeed in my precinct now vacant, and 
 yet undisposed of, by the voluntary removal of the young man 
 Avho was in it to a better benefice ; and this is likewise in my 
 hand, but it is of so wretchedly 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 wheresoever 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 greatness 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 line or two upon 
 
 Your poor Friend and Servant, 
 
 R. L.
 
 lVi the life of 
 
 The following letter to the heritors* of the parish 
 of Strattoii pUices in a clear light the upright yet 
 sagacious policy, by which Leighton contrived to fill 
 the vacant benefices with pious men, and to conci- 
 liate the goodwill of the parisliioners to their new 
 pastors. 
 
 Worthy Gextlemen and Friends, 
 
 Being 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 per- 
 suaded of, that I dare confidently recommend him to you, as 
 one wjio, if the liand of God do Innd that work upon him 
 amongst you, is likely, through the blessing of the same hand, 
 to be very serviceable to the building up of your souls heaven- 
 wards ; but is as far from suffering himself to be obtruded, as 
 I am from ol)truding any upon you : so that unless you invite 
 him to preach, and, after licaring him, declare your consent 
 and desire towards his embracing of tlie call, you may be se- 
 cure from the trouble of hearing any further concerning 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 endeavoured by 
 
 Your affectionate friend 
 
 And humble servant, 
 
 R. Leighton. 
 
 The charges of this venerable prelate to the clergy 
 of the diocesan synod of Dunblane are valuable and 
 interesling records, as well on account of the sterling 
 good sense and piety with which they al)0und, as of 
 the light they shed on his professional character and 
 
 * The heritors of a parish arc tlie owners of llic real property witliiii it.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LVU 
 
 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 lie 
 presided had made no extraordinary proficiency in 
 godUness under presbyterian tuition. 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 immoralities of the time 
 and place. Officiating ministers were directed to read 
 portions of the Old and New Testaments, not after the 
 irreverent manner hitherto in vogue, of making 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 sum- 
 mary of christian doctrine should be agreed upon by 
 his clergy, to be made the basis of catechetical instruc- 
 tions 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 laboured 
 to bring into the place of subtle and passionate dis- 
 putations a modest and sober style of preaching, that 
 should be level to the capacities and calculated to mend 
 the morals of the lower classes. On the ignorance 
 and viciousness of the people in general he touches 
 sorrowfully ; and he warns his clergy against slackness 
 and timidity in reproving the prevalent sins of their
 
 LVlll - THE LIFE OF 
 
 respective parishes. Large portions 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 engage the attention of the auditory. 
 
 Though friendly to a grave and masculine eloquence, 
 of which he was himself no common master, yet his 
 chief desire was that discourses from the pulpit should 
 be simple 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 earnest to catch souls." The 
 measure of speech, he remarked, (and the remark is 
 well worthy of being preserved,) ought to be the cha- 
 racter 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 disliked the practice of reading 
 sermons, a practice scarcely known beyond the seas ; 
 being of oi)inion that it detracted much from the weight 
 and authority of preaching. ^' I know (he said) that 
 weakness of the memory is pleaded in excuse for this 
 custom ; but better minds would make better memo- 
 ries. Such an excuse is unworthy of a man, and much 
 more of a father, who may want vent indeed in address- 
 ing his children, but ought never to want matter. 
 Like Elihu, he should be refreshed by speaking." 
 
 Although disposed to- lenity, he was not regardless 
 of discipline. Gross offences committed in his diocese
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LIX 
 
 were to be branded with church censures ; and the 
 restoration of offenders to the communion of the church 
 was to be delayed, till they had given proof of genuine 
 repentance. 
 
 It was among his pious plans to bring about a more 
 frequent celebration of the Lord's supper, which, in 
 those days, was not in every place so much as an 
 annual ceremony ; and he wished the people to be 
 carefully instructed in the spiritual import of this holy 
 rite, and to be frequently exhorted to maintain a con- 
 stant fitness for it by framing their lives by the 
 model of the gospel. He also made it incumbent 
 on his clergy to promote the practice of family wor- 
 ship, and to exercise a watchful superintendence over 
 their flocks, bearing the spiritual burdens of every 
 member, and dealing out to each, as his case might 
 require, instruction, or counsel, or reproof, or con- 
 solation. 
 
 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 themselves remarkable for sanctity of heart 
 and life ; men of prayer, of study, and meditation ; of 
 '^ great contempt of this present world, and inflamed 
 affections towards heaven ;" whose pure and peaceable 
 demeanour, full of mercy and good fruits, should 
 stamp them for the sons of God and servants of the 
 meek and lowly Jesus. He also considered a sin- 
 gular modesty and gravity even in externals, such 
 as their apparel and the adjustment of their hair, to 
 be highly becoming in ministers, whose profession
 
 LX THE LIFE OF 
 
 it was to g'ive themselves wholly to the care of 
 immortal souls. 
 
 Slaving- these things much at hearty he gave in a 
 paper at the synod of 1667, in whieh^ after a most 
 conciliatory introduction, and blaming himself for 
 having, through averseness to lord it over Christ's 
 heritage, been more backward to admonish them than 
 perhaps his situation demanded, he proceeds to urge 
 the importance of adding life and efficiency to those 
 " privy trials," in which the presbyters used to examine 
 each other for mutual correction and edification. 
 Tliese examinations, he is satisfied, might be made 
 highly salutary to those who were declining in zeal 
 and diligence, were entangled in doctrinal errors^ or 
 were in any way swerving from the path of ministerial 
 duty, provided they were so conducted, as to con- 
 strain 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 domineering exercise of his 
 authority. Instead of peremptorily exacting submis- 
 sion fiom his clergy, he industriously waives the claims 
 arising from his eminent station, and wins their obe- 
 dience, in his dealings with them, by urbanity and 
 gentleness. It is asserted by Wodrow and others, 
 that the clergy of Dunblane were notoriously ignorant 
 and disorderlv. I have met with nothing to corrobo- 
 rate this heavy charge ; and from their diocesan's 
 pastoral letters and addresses, it is rather to be inferred
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXl 
 
 that their defects have been overstated, or else were 
 greatly corrected during his administration. 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 suggestion, and not of overbearing 
 dictation. The only priority he sought was in labonrs ; 
 the only ascendency he coveted was in self-denial and 
 holiness; and in this career he had few competitors 
 for precedency. 
 
 Proceeding steadily upon these principles, and 
 exerting all his influence to impart to others the same 
 fervency of spirit, he drew upon himself the eyes of all 
 Scotland^ which gazed with amazement at his bright 
 and singular virtues, as at an angel of light traversing 
 a sky of gloom and tempest. Even the presbyterians 
 were softened by his christian urbanity and meekness, 
 and were constrained to admit that on him had 
 descended a double portion of the apostolic spirit. 
 Had his colleagues in office resembled him in tempei*, 
 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 expostu- 
 lation ; 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. lint
 
 LXU THE LIFE OF 
 
 it soon became apparent that the plans in progress 
 for extirpating the presbyterian discipline were dia- 
 metrically opposite to the dictates of wisdom and 
 mercy. I find him expressing- himself, in allusion 
 no doubt to the leading men of this period, with a 
 poignant recollection of the selfish 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 styled 
 them in the phraseology of scripture^ " 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 find- 
 ing all his efforts to put things in a better train quite 
 ineffectual, Leighton thought he should be justified 
 in laying down the charge, which he had taken uj), 
 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 re])resentations, 
 a faithful picture of the distempered and convulsed 
 state of Scotland. Having obtained an interview 
 witli Charles, he declared that the severities practised 
 upon objectors to the new establishment were such 
 as his conscience could not justify, even for the sake
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXlll 
 
 of planting" Christianity in a heathen land: much 
 less could he agree to them for an end so compara- 
 tively insignificant^ as that of substituting one form 
 of ecclesiastical government for another. He there- 
 fore besought permission to resign his bishopric^ lest 
 by retaining- it he should seem to be a party to vio- 
 lences, 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 argu- 
 ments of the virtuous advocate of toleration. He 
 pledged himself to stop that application of the secular 
 sword, against which Leighton protested ; and he 
 actually annulled the ecclesiastical commission,, whose 
 province it was to goad dissenters into conformity 
 by fines and gaols and corporal punishments. But 
 he would not hear of Leighton 's vacating his see ; 
 and the bishop consented at length to retain it, as 
 the only way of holding the King to those engage- 
 ments into which he had been reluctantly impelled. 
 
 Leighton had so fully made up his mind to with- 
 draw at tliis time from his station, that he had bidden 
 a solemn farewell to his clergy before his departure 
 for London. After winding up the regular business 
 of the synod in October 1665, he informed them that 
 there was a matter which though of little concern to 
 them and the churchy he still thought it his duty to 
 notify to them. He then announced his intention of 
 retiring ; and the reasons he assigned for it were, 
 the sense he entertained of his own unworthiness to 
 sustain so high an office, and his weariness of those
 
 LXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 contentions which had clothed the household of God 
 in mourning, and seemed to l)e increasing- rather than 
 abating. '< For myself, Brethren, I 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 endea- 
 vours I have used to serve you^ and to assist you in 
 promoting the work of the ministry and the great 
 designs of the gospel. If in any thing, whether l)y word 
 or deed, I have given you offence, or umiecessarily 
 pained a single individual among you, I do earnestly 
 and humbly 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 the souls for which 
 he died. Finally, Brethren, farewell ; be perfect, 
 be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace, 
 and the God of peace and love shall be with you. 
 Amen." 
 
 About two years afterwards, the growing calami- 
 ties of the church called for prompt and vigorous 
 remedies. It was decreed by the council, that all 
 incumbents should obtain presentation from the pa- 
 trons and episcopal institution, or forthwith resign 
 their benefices. This intemperate act, of which the 
 credit is given to Bishop Fairfowl, occasioned all at 
 once a great number of vacancies, which fit and able 
 men were not at hand to supply. Had the most 
 considerable of the nonconformist ministers been gra- 
 dually and (juielly superseded, an explosion of popular 
 wrath nrmht have been avoided. But when, in ad-
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXV 
 
 dition to the grievance of being* deprived of their own 
 ministers^ the congregations were required to receive, 
 in the place 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, their disgust at prelatical inno- 
 vations settled into a ferocious antipathy to the new 
 constitution of the church. 
 
 It was the misfortune of these times, moreover, 
 that owing to the King's dislike of business, and im- 
 moral levity, the government took its tone from the 
 views or whims of the principal minister, or the reign- 
 ing favourite, 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 baneful fluctuations of the body 
 politic. Not that the unsteadiness of the helm should 
 be attributed solely to the monarch's capriciousness 
 or supineness. It proceeded, in part, from the diffi- 
 culty he found in carrying on together his two fa- 
 vorite objects, of pulling down presbyterianism, and 
 building up popery : it being hard to inflict a blow 
 upon the former, without wounding the latter ; or 
 to enact laws favorable to the Roman Catholic dis- 
 senter, the benefit of which should not extend to 
 the Presbyterian. Nothing, however, could be more 
 adverse to the settlement of Scotch affairs, than such 
 a vacillating administration. At times, the bishops 
 were armed with almost unlimited powers for the sub- 
 version of presbyterianism : but, before sufficient space 
 had been allowed for the success of a resolute des- 
 
 VoL. I. e
 
 LXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 potism, 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 dis- 
 couraged and enfeebled, was roused to fresh hope and 
 resistance. Then^ a sudden return to arbitrary mea- 
 sures 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 adjacent 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 1667^ in conjunction with Lord Tweedale, 
 who possessed_, according to Burnet's estimate, true 
 benevolence, along with much political information 
 and talent, but was overcautious and timid, and 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 coun- 
 try, and vigorously applied himself to heal them be- 
 fore they should be grown incurable. He saw at 
 once that Leighton was the fittest man to be at the 
 head of the ecclesiastical administration *. And indeed 
 
 * The followins; extract from the History of Scotland by Sir George 
 Mackenzie, who was a leadini; character in these limes, and Lord Advo- 
 cate, will he appropriate in this part of our narrative. 
 
 " The Debates and Transactions which fell in at this time, discovered 
 very much 1o our Statesmen, how far each of the present Clergy stood 
 affected to the Supremacy of the Civil Magistrate in Church affairs, and 
 in what they approved or disapproved the late Indulgence ; for Ihe ad- 
 vice of many Churchmen, not jn-operly inlerested, was asked at this 
 time, rather to know their inclination, than for information ; and it was
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXVIl 
 
 it was high time for some capable man to be fixed in 
 that station^ 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 Leigh ton's co-operation ; 
 and in order to that co-operation being made more 
 effectual, he let slip no opportunity of impressing the 
 King with an opinion of his superlative merits, and of 
 his competence to the chief direction of ecclesiastical 
 affairs. Had he succeeded in this project, it was his 
 hope to winnow the church, by degrees, of the vain 
 and worthless characters with which it was infested ; 
 and to bring in a set of men who would adorn their 
 profession, and recommend the episcopal frame by 
 
 easily found, that the Bishop of Dunblane was the most proper and fit 
 person to serve the State in the Church, according to the present plat- 
 form of government now resolved upon ; for he was in much esteeni for 
 his piety and moderation, amongst the people, and as to which the Pres- 
 byterians themselves could neither reproach or equal him ; albeit they 
 hated him most of all his fraternity, in respect he drew many into a kind- 
 ness for Episcopacy, by his exemplary 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 
 esteem 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 mo- 
 delled of all others, both for doctrine and discipline, yet did he easily 
 conform with the practice of the Christians amongst whom he lived, and 
 therefore lived peaceably under Presbyter}^ till it was abolished : and 
 when he undertook to be Bishop himself, he opposed all violent courses, 
 whereby men were forced to comply with the present worship, beyond 
 their persuasions ; and he granted a latitude and indulgence to those of 
 his own diocese, before the king had allowed any by his letter. This 
 made the world believe that he was the author to his Majesty of that 
 public Indulgence ; and the Statesmen, who were unwilling to be authors 
 of an innovation, which some there thought might prove dangerous, were 
 well satisfied to have it so believed ; but, however, these principles ren- 
 dered him a fit iustrun;ent in their present undertakings." — Page 161. 
 
 e 2
 
 LXYlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 undeniable piety and talent. How far Leighton fell 
 in with this excellent design, as it concerned his own 
 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 ambassador. He ex- 
 posed without disguise the distempered state of the 
 realm, and showed how those diseases, which might 
 have yielded 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 of averting a fatal crisis. Then, without 
 hazarding a premature exposure of the expedients 
 which were dictated by the present exigency, he humbly 
 advised that an attempt should be made, by some act 
 of comprehension, to draw the more temperate of the 
 presbyterian party within the pale of the establish- 
 ment ; and he warned his Majesty of the danger he 
 would run of losing episcopacy 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 with the moderate 
 measures recommended by Lord Twcedalc and Leigh- 
 ton. But the passions of the covenanters had been 
 allowed to effervesce so long, and they were so in- 
 censed by the King's breach of faith and by the
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXIX 
 
 oppressiveness of the High Commission, that it was 
 hardly to be expected that any ministerial philters, 
 how artfully soever compounded, would avail to charm 
 back their affections. Nor were the presbyteriau 
 chieftains remiss or unskilful in fomenting the popular 
 discontent. A breath from them would have extin- 
 guished the smoking firebrand ; but that breath was 
 applied to fan it into a flame. Young and fiery 
 preachers ranged up and down 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 episcopacy 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 uncircumcised 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 disorders 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 educa 
 tion, but not in moderation and virtue, they scrupled at 
 nothing that might evince their hatred 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 curses, or even missiles more
 
 LXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 dangerous to their persons. Their houses were no 
 longer a sanctuary; their property was plundered, 
 and their lives were attempted. Worn out by this 
 series of persecutions, and despairing- of a change for 
 the better, many of these unhappy curates abandoned 
 their parishes, a few with some, but most of them 
 without any, pecuniary compensation. 
 
 While the ill-cemented edifice of Scottish episco- 
 pacy was rocking- in this tempest, the spirit of infatua- 
 tion had fallen on all the bishops except Leighton ; 
 and his oracular voice, though lifted up boldly, was 
 drowned in the clamour 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 persuade the 
 leading statesmen to second them with their authority; 
 and he suggested the expediency of repealing those 
 absurd laws, which rated the episcopal authority far 
 hio-her than any of the bishops dared to carry into 
 practice. Taking notice of the extraordinary conces- 
 sions made by the African Church to the Donatists, 
 who were to the fiill as extravagant as the people of 
 his own day, he was an advocate for going a great way 
 towards meeting their demands, and for so lengthening 
 the cords and stretching out the curtains of the episco- 
 pal frame, as to take in all the covenanters who were 
 not implacable recusants. Although the concessions, 
 to which he was prepared to proceed, went near to 
 vacate the episcopal office, yet he thought them justi- 
 fied by the improbability of their permanence ; for he 
 believed that when the present race of untameable
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXl 
 
 zealots was laid in the grave^ and a season of peace 
 had allowed the revival of sober sense and charity, 
 there would be a readiness on the part of the people 
 to reinvest the bishop with such prerogatives, as he 
 had been unreasonably compelled to lay down 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, in matters both of jurisdiction and ordina- 
 tion. 
 
 2. That the presbyters should be allowed, when they 
 first sat down in their judicatories, 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 ordination were to serve, 
 and hear and discuss any exceptions that were made to 
 them, and ordain them with the concurrence of the 
 presbytery. 
 
 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 couise every 
 third year, or oftener if the King summoned them ; in
 
 LXXll THE LIFE OF 
 
 which complaints of the bishops shoukl be received, 
 and they sliould be censured according- to their deserts. 
 
 It was not to ])e expected that such a scheme would 
 go down smoothly with the patrons of the new system. 
 There was an outcry ag-ainst it as a measure subver- 
 sive of episcopacy^ which it certainly despoiled of some 
 capital dignities and powers. Ag-ainst this Leighton 
 urg-ed, that it was better to depress episcopacy below 
 the scriptural models than to suffer the church to con- 
 tinue a prey to those fiictions^, which had already car- 
 ried a sword into its bowels : and he tried to soothe 
 still more the indignant prelatists by shewing it to be 
 highly probablC;, 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 endeavoured to 
 propitiate the high episcopalians^ by holding- out hopes 
 which he thought unlikely to be verified^ so^ on the 
 other hand, there is not the slightest ground for charg- 
 ing him with duplicity, because, wliile proposing an 
 excessive abasement of the episcopal office, he antici- 
 pated 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 embarrassments, which it would 
 need an augmentation of the episcopal influence to 
 remedy, he would justly have incurred the reproach 
 of double-dealing. But it is obvious that he studied.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXlll 
 
 with the greatest good faith^ to accommodate liis plan 
 to the presbyterian taste, as nearly as the govern- 
 ment with which he acted would endure. No doubt 
 he augured that the presbyterian ministers themselves, 
 as soon as the fever of faction and bigotry should be 
 allayed^ must open their eyes to the inconvenience of 
 so immoderately retrenching the powers of their chief 
 functionary. Such a prognostication would be credit- 
 able to his sagacity, without disparagement to his in- 
 tegrity. In order to form an adequate estimate of this 
 great Bishop's merits, it is necessary to reflect upon 
 the extraordinary difficulties with which he had to 
 contend. He was mediating between two fierce 
 parties, who agreed in nothing but unkind suspicions 
 of himself; and it was hardly within the compass of 
 human skill and wisdom, in that tempestuous season, 
 to steer so exactly through a narrow and intricate 
 channel, as to escape the rocks on one side without 
 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 accom- 
 modated himself to the crabbed humours and contracted 
 genius of the nonconformists. He had at once to pro- 
 pitiate jealous adversaries, and to obviate the miscon- 
 duct of lukewarm or dishonest confederates. One 
 while he was thwarted by the king's despotic jealousies, 
 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 unquench- 
 able benevolence, and a valorous self-devotion, before
 
 LXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 which every thing bent but the inflexible sinews of 
 relentk'ss big-otry. 
 
 It was the Earl of Kirkardine's advice, that no treaty 
 should be attempted with the presbyterians, but that 
 whatever concessions it might be thought expedient 
 to make should pass into laws ; and he thought that 
 when it was clearly understood that nothing further 
 would be gained by holding out^ there would be a 
 general acquiescence in the new arrangements. In 
 this opinion Leighton concurred ; but Lord Lauder- 
 dale refused his assent, with a sinister purpose, it 
 was shrewdly suspected^ of frustrating the attempt at 
 accommodation. It w^as then resolved to try whether 
 any thing 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 sentiments on the Comprehension, but not to pro- 
 pose it officially. The wary minister took care^ how- 
 ever, not to commit himself, observing that he was but 
 one of many, and his opinion that of a simple indivi- 
 dual. All he would say was, that the project was not 
 in his eyes very promising ; but he reserved his sen- 
 tence on the particular concessions proposed, until 
 they should be ratified by competent authority. 
 
 Shortly after this abortive negotiation, the experi- 
 ment was tried of granting some of the vacant churches 
 
 * George Hutchinson was educated at Glasgow, and was accounted 
 one of llie greatest preachers of !he presl)} lerian party. He was a learned 
 man, and wrote on the twelve minor prophets, on the book of Job, and on 
 the gospel of St. John. He died in the year 1074,
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXV 
 
 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 
 which he strong-ly advised it ; and being known to 
 cherish an almost filial reverence for Leighton, it was 
 naturally presumed that he was the organ of that 
 Bishop's sentiments. The fact is, however, that the 
 letter in question had not been imparted to Leighton, 
 nor would it, there is reason to think, have obtained 
 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 ministers could not, in common decency, 
 launch out against the episcopal platform ; and they 
 were driven to preach more on christian doctrine and 
 practice than suited the temper of the times. Hence 
 they fell under a reproach with their several congrega- 
 tions, which prevented their usefulness ; and what with 
 the contemptuous invectives of the non-indulged 
 ministers on the one hand, and the unkind reception 
 they met with from the presbyterian laity on the other, 
 they seem to have rapidly sunk into a state of cowardly 
 supineness, which extinguished all the hopes that had 
 been raised on their appointment. 
 
 In November, 1669, a bill was laid before the par- 
 liament of Scotland, well known as the Assertory Act, 
 which carried to an exorbitant extent the royal preroga- 
 gatiye. It asserted, that "^ all things relating to the 
 external government of the church belonged to the 
 crown ; and that all things relating to ecclesiastical
 
 LXXVI THE LIFE OP 
 
 meetings, matters, and persons, were to be ordered 
 according' to such directions as the King should send 
 to his privy council." There is reason to beheve that 
 a leading object with the devisers of this bill was^ to 
 curry Aivour with the heir presumptive to the throne_, 
 by paving the way for the ingress of popery. Yet it 
 was artfully contrived to catch the passions of the pres- 
 byterians, who thought the chance for the total extinc- 
 tion of prelacy would be greater, if it rested with an indi- 
 vidual to abolish it at any time with a single dash of the 
 pen, than if it could only be effected through the tedious 
 formalities and contentious proceedings of parliament. 
 Some moderate men^ Lord Tweedale avowedly^ and 
 probably the Bishop of Dunblane^, regarded this mea- 
 sure with more favour^ 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 con- 
 siderations into voting for a measure, which added such 
 dangerous powers to the crown. It was not indeed till 
 after many demurs, and insisting upon several modifi- 
 cations, that he at length yielded it his suffrage : but 
 what was his indignation at finding inteipolated in the 
 bill, when it came out with the royal sanction, the 
 momentous words " ecclesiastical affairs ;" while 
 sundry saving and explanatory clauses, which had been 
 inserted at his instance in the rough draught, were 
 omitted ! Such a scandalous fraud is perfectly credible 
 of the profligate statesmen of those iniquitous times,
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXVH 
 
 and will go far, with candid minds^ to vindicate the 
 Bishop from the blame of temporising- : but to the end 
 of his days he reflected on this affair with self-reproach, 
 and bitterly regretted that his judgment should have 
 slumbered on such an occasion. 
 
 The first exertion of the authority vested in the 
 Sovereign by tliis bill was the removal of Archbishop 
 Burnet from Glasgow, in which see he had earned but 
 a sorry reputation for episcopal virtues. Immediately 
 after his deposal, Leighton was pressed by the Earls 
 of Lauderdale and Tweedale to accept the vacant 
 dignity. To this proposal he testified the utmost re- 
 pugnance, and indeed pertinaciously withstood it, till 
 he was induced to believe 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 accommodation. In conse- 
 quence 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 
 Glasgow. 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 labours 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, though far short of the sacrifices he 
 was capable of making to ensure the welfare of the 
 christian Zion.
 
 LXXVIU THE LIFE OF 
 
 It has been related that, two years before, Leighton 
 had intimated pretty plainly to the King the necessity 
 of resorting' to some extraordinary measures, to rescue 
 the episcopal church from impending- ruin. At that 
 conference, however, he submitted no specific expe- 
 dient : fearing perhaps to impede his own designs by 
 overforwardness ; and convinced that the measures, 
 which he had in contemplation, were such as royalty 
 would never endure, until driven to them by an obvi- 
 ous and urgent necessity. But now that two years 
 longer experience had revealed the dangerous folly 
 of attempting to produce uniformity by compulsion ; 
 and now that Leighton, by his elevation to the me- 
 tropolitan see of Glasgow, stood on more advan- 
 tageous ground 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 from conciliating 
 the people of Scotland. Nor was the King insensible 
 to the sound sense of the Archbishop's representations. 
 Accordingly he acceded to all that was demanded of 
 him^ and caused a paper of instructions to be drawn 
 up, conformable to the Archbishop's ideas, and to be 
 transmitted to the Earl of Lauderdale, accompanied 
 with orders to that minister to obtain the enactment 
 of corresponding laws. There are symptoms, how- 
 ever, in this transaction 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
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXIX 
 
 to conceive that any good scheme should pass through 
 such hands, without miscarrying or turning to evil. 
 
 When Leighton had compassed this pointy his next 
 endeavour was to generate such a spirit in his diocese, 
 as should favour his conciliatory operations ; — such a 
 genial atmosphere of holy charity, if the expression 
 may be allowed, as should suit with the medicinal 
 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 
 archiepiscopal dignities, he had hitherto administered, 
 as Commendator only, from a distance. Indeed, it 
 appears from the register of the parliamentary council, 
 that, though nominated and presented, he was never 
 formally translated 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 compelling the people to attend the church, and of 
 inflicting fines and other punishments on the contuma- 
 cious. To the surprise and mortification of the clergy, 
 who were little accustomed 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 consider themselves as the ministers 
 of the cross of Christ; to bear the contempt and ill
 
 LXXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 usage they met \vith_, 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 labours ." * 
 
 Not content with these endeavours to improve his 
 clergy, he also went about the country, taking Burnet 
 with him_, on a visit to the most influential of the 
 indulged ministers^, whom he tried to gain over by 
 sound argumentation 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 
 burnt so fiercely, of putting an end to the unhappy 
 differences that separated brother from brother, and 
 of uniting all parties in the bonds of amicable for- 
 bearance at least, if not of perfect unanimity. He 
 also pledged himself that the business 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 con- 
 cession could be extorted from the covenanters ; 
 who probably inferred from the gratuitous advances 
 made towards them, that the balance in the royal 
 
 * Burnel's History of his own Time 3 Cook II.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXXl 
 
 counsels was inclining in their favour. Perhaps, too, 
 they were the more indisposed to appreciate the 
 ingenuousness of Leighton, through the subtlety of 
 factious emissaries, who found it an easy task to con- 
 firm in their obduracy minds more than half seared 
 by protracted animosities and rancourous reflections. 
 In their views the complete success of their party 
 was identified with the triumph of Christ's Church ; 
 and prelatic domination with the supremacy of Anti- 
 christ. They were debarred by an imperious con- 
 science from entering into any terms of composition 
 with the impure Spirit, which had issued from the 
 bottomless pit, and was blasting their goodly Zion ; 
 and they dreaded the condemnation of Saul in the 
 war of Araalek, should they spare any part of the * 
 Babylonish system from utter extermination. Such 
 were their principles, expressed in such language ; 
 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 therefoi'e 
 returned from his apostolic circuit, dispirited and 
 almost despondent; yet still resolved to try the ex- 
 periment of a solemn and official congress with the 
 presbyterian leaders ; 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 nation at 
 large, with what party it rested that the wounds of 
 the church were not healed ; and while it fully ac- 
 quitted the episcopalians of intolerance, it would 
 
 Vol. I. f
 
 LXXXll THE LIFE OP 
 
 expose the machinations and diminish the credit of 
 the enemies of peace and unity. 
 
 The first meeting took place at Holyrood-House 
 ill Edinburgh, on the 9th of August, 1670. Lauder- 
 dale, the High Commissioner, with some Lords of the 
 Council, Leighton, Professor Burnet, and Patterson, 
 afterwards archbishop of Glasgow, formed the array 
 on one side ; and on the opposite side appeared Hut- 
 chinson, Wedderburn, Ramsay, and two other ministers 
 of lepute with their party. 
 
 Lauderdale opened the meeting with a conciliatory 
 harangue, in which he besought the presbyterian dis- 
 putants to assist the royal commissioners, in con- 
 formity 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 feelingly 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 tliis stain of protestantism, and intro- 
 duciiiof an era of fraternal love and concord. After 
 declaring the readiness of the bishops to stoop to 
 the lowest point of defensible condescension hi meet- 
 ing the presbyterian scruples, he drew a comparison 
 between the rival platforms ; pointing out the defects 
 inlierent in the presbyterian, and the ground there 
 was for concluding that ej)iscopacy had existed in 
 substance, if not in name, from tlie infantile age of 
 Christianity. He laboured to convince them, that
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXXIII 
 
 many parts of the presbyterian discipline had not the 
 sanction of apostolic practice, and bore no signature 
 of a divine appointment : that, in establishing a form 
 of ecclesiastical government, we are free to institute 
 offices of which the inspired volume furnishes no pre- 
 cedent, provided nothing contrary to the orders of 
 Christ, and to the spirit of his religion^ be admitted ; 
 and that, by submitting to the episcopal form, they 
 would not bind themselves to comply with any thing 
 repugnant to the dispensation of the gospel, or to 
 tolerate any encroachment on the pastoral functions. 
 Ifj however, they scrupled to allow of fixed presidents 
 nominated by the Sovereign ; or if they apprehended 
 that along with the presidency some more exception- 
 able jurisdiction would accrue to the bishops ; against 
 these contingencies they should be at liberty to enter 
 a prospective protest, in as full and public a manner 
 as they pleased. Such latitude being granted to 
 tender consciences, he thought the sacrifices it re- 
 mained for them to make could be refused only by 
 fastidiousness, squeamishness, or vexatious obstinacy ; 
 and he conjured them to weigh the whole matter, 
 as in the presence of God, without respect to party 
 or popularity. No answer, or none of any conse- 
 quence, was returned at the time 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 preceding day. Lauderdale wanted an im 
 mediate and positive answer ; but from this the minis- 
 
 f2
 
 LXXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 tcrs excused themselves, on the ground that they 
 could speak only as individuals, having no authority 
 to stipulate for their brethren in general. The plea 
 was considered reasonable, and proceedings were sus- 
 pended till the 1 st of November ; in which interval 
 they were to collect the sentiments of their fraternity, 
 and to come to the next conference prepared with a 
 record which might be acted upon as official. Lord 
 Lauderdale 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 unfavorable 
 opinion of the nonconformists. He complained of 
 their behaviour being- rude and crafty ; and it required 
 all Leighton's fine temper and management to prevent 
 his handling- them roughly. 
 
 About this time, the Archbishop conceived a plan 
 for clearing his diocese of scandalous ministers. For 
 this [)urpose he appointed a board of examiners, who 
 were empowered to summon before them any offici- 
 ating minister, against whom his parishioners had 
 charges to prefer. The King's Council however 
 interposed, and added to this consistory certain lay 
 commissioners : — a suspicious interference, that seemed 
 intended to perplex the business, and prevent its 
 being done effectually. Such at least was the result : 
 for the prosecution of clerical delinquencies was ham- 
 pered with so many difliculties, and the accuser fell 
 under such heavy penalties if he failed to substantiate 
 his deposition, that few parishes ventured to impeach
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXXV 
 
 ilieir minister, except for immoralities too notorious to 
 be denied, and too gross to be palliated. 
 
 I cannot ascertain whether it were before^ or shortly 
 after^ the initial convocation, that Leighton fell upon 
 another expedient to further 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 mission is variously reported. In 
 a paper of the Lansdown manuscripts, which is copied 
 with some additions into Wodrow's disingenuous 
 history, it is pretended that Leighton anticipated 
 nothing short of a national conversion from the elo- 
 quence of these missionaries. From Burnet, however, 
 who could not be misinformed of the Archbishop's 
 motives, we learn that the directions given to himself 
 and his associates w^ere, — '^ to argue upon the grounds 
 of the accommodation." In his account of this trans- 
 action there is a palpable fairness which carries con- 
 viction. He frankly admits that the people did not 
 flock to them in crowds^ although a congregatioi; 
 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 on scriptural topics, though he found 
 these excellencies marred with a bitter leaven of self- 
 conceit, and " a most entangled scrupulosity." Tliis 
 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
 
 LXXXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 had been at a stand during- their stay ; and hot-brained 
 preachers cast again the torch of bigotry upon mate- 
 rials which were lamentably prone to inflame. In 
 truths the measures now in train for winning over the 
 anti-episcopal party to moderate sentiments, failing of 
 that happy issue, did but widen tlie breach ; as is 
 commonly the result of abortive efforts at reconciliation. 
 The fire, not being stifled, was stirred. Met together 
 to canvass the proffered indulgence, the covenanters 
 had their spirits inflamed by debate and altercation ; 
 and as they went on arguing, the points which severed 
 them from the pale of episcopacy seemed to multiply, 
 and to grow in importance. Regarding the overtures 
 of the royal commissioners as a stratagem for enticing 
 the garrison of presbyterianism into a surrender of its 
 principal bulwarks, they animated each other to persist 
 in a resistance, of which they augured a speedy and 
 glorious termination, against that two-fold mystery of 
 iniquity, prelatic domination and servile Erastianism, 
 '^ They helped every one his neighbour, and every one 
 said to his brother. Be of good courage." In vain did 
 Leighton endeavour by papers of logical argument, or 
 of pathetic remonstrance, to persuade them, that by 
 altering 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
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. LXXXVH 
 
 dispassionate ministers with opinions favorable to his 
 proposal, the attempt was reprobated as unfair ; and 
 not a little offence was taken at his venturing-, in 
 epistolary correspondence with his private friends, to 
 reflect upon the spirit which had shown itself in the 
 presbyterian party, and to prognosticate the failure of 
 the negotiation *. 
 
 But Leig-hton, though wearied and brokenhearted, 
 resolved on another attempt to burst the strongholds 
 of presbyterian prejudice, or the still less penetrable 
 barriers of party spirit : 
 
 ter saxea tentat 
 
 Limina nequicquam ; ter fessus valle resedit. 
 
 After some vexatious opposition, another conference 
 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 non- 
 conformists. It was opened, in a manner illustrative 
 of the candour 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 opponents 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 communion with the church at the period of 
 the Nicene Council ; and yet episcopacy was then of a 
 
 * See Letters in the Appendix.
 
 LXXXVIU THE LIFE OF 
 
 lordlier character than it now affected in Scotland *. 
 On the other side it was contended, that archbishops 
 were unknown to the primitive church ; that bishops 
 were parochial, 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 
 Professor Burnet, at the request of Leighton who was 
 
 '^' Tlie following citation from a \vork entitled, " The Present State of 
 Scotland," by Matthias Symson, Canon of Lincoln, shows that episcopacy 
 in that country was already in point of fact, in consequence no doubt of 
 Leightons exertions, reduced almost as low as the nature of an episcopal 
 chui-ch could admit. 
 
 " After the King's restoration, when bishops were re-estaljlished, none 
 were admitted into the ministry Init by episcopal ordination : tliough 
 every bishop did not use the same form, yet none of them (except 
 Bishop Mitchel) imposed what was called reordination 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 own liberty ])oth 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 godfathers and godmothers, 
 nor the cross in l)ap1ism ; they required no ring in marriage, nor genu- 
 flexion in the eucharist, unless the communicant pleased. They did not 
 demand subscription to the old and first confession of the reformers, but 
 connived at the Westminster confession and catechisms ; they enjoined no 
 holidays, and observed but few. For the exercise of discipline they had 
 synods, and also presbyteries ; where candidates for orders and institution 
 Avere examined ; who also had cognizance of all ecclesiastical cases, 
 under the inspection and review of the diocesan. There were very few 
 sinecures; they knew nothing of pluralities, and very little of non-resi- 
 dence. No lay elders were admitted, I^ut 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 presbyterian 
 ministers (if Ihey would but pray for the King, which divers of them 
 would not do) were allowed to officiale in the cluu-clics, and receive the 
 whole profits, without being anyways accountable to the Bishop, or 
 ecclesiastic establishment, on any score whatsoever."
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGIITON. LXXXIX 
 
 fatigued with speaking-, replied at considerable length ; 
 either controverting the facts asserted, or impeaching 
 the conclusions drawn from them *. In the course of 
 the debate, which was very wearing to mind and body, 
 the Archbishop's nose began to bleed ; and this inci- 
 dent was matter of some exultation to his adversaries, 
 who attributed it to the hard blows he had received 
 in the theological combat. Whether they had any 
 better grounds for chanting a pasan, it is not our 
 present business to inquire. Nothing, however, was 
 effected towards the establishment of peace. Both 
 parties claimed the victory in argument; and not a 
 step was taken by the presbyterians to meet the 
 episcopalians, who carried home nothing but humilia- 
 tion, 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 
 from such an instrument being divulged. Among 
 others, it would tend to circumscribe the concessions 
 he could make to the covenanters, and would straiten 
 him in the exercise of that discretionary power, with 
 which he was apparently intrusted. To proclaim the 
 
 * See Burnet's Vindication Sec, Fourth Conference.
 
 XC THE LIFE OF 
 
 meditated extent of the royal liberality, was in fact to 
 lay a restraint upon it ; since it could not well over- 
 pass the limit it had publickly prescribed to itself, 
 without incurrinof the disofrace of havinof been forced 
 beyond its spontaneous issue. However, it was impos- 
 sible for Leig"hton to refuse the demand, without falling 
 under the suspicion, which would have been fatal to 
 his further proceedings, that he was designedly leaving 
 open a way of retreat from the performance of extorted 
 promises. On taking leave of the ministers, he re- 
 quested them to lose no time in preparing a final an- 
 swer, 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 
 hy Hutchinson, in the name of the whole fraternity, 
 returning this " short and dry answer," as Leighton 
 designates it ; '^ We are not free in conscience to close 
 with the propositions made by the Bishop of Dunblane, 
 as satisfactory." Leighton 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 fm'nish 
 a hopeful basis for a fresh negotiation, they declined 
 the invitation, on the plea that their sentiments were 
 already before the world ; thereby signifying that no- 
 thing would satisfy them, short of the utter extinction 
 of episcopacy. The Archbishop, perceiving that no 
 terms would be accepted by this untractable race, de-
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XCl 
 
 livered himself, before the assembly broke up, at con- 
 siderable length and with energetic solemnity. He 
 unfolded the motives by which he had been actuated 
 in setting afloat this negotiation, and in still urging 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 apostolic 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 assign- 
 ing any reason for the rejection, and without suggesting 
 any healing measures in the room of ours. The con- 
 tinuance of the divisions, through which religion lan- 
 guishes, must consequently lie at your door. Before 
 God and man I wash my hands of whatever evils may 
 resiilt from the ruptui'e of this treaty. I have done my 
 utmost to repair the temple of the Lord ; and my sor- 
 row will not be embittered by compunction, should a
 
 XCU THE LIFE OF 
 
 flood of miseries hereafter rush in througli 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 assuredly owing to unskilful pilot- 
 age, for nothing could surpass the prudence, know- 
 ledge, and 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 manage- 
 ment ; and it had to contend with such a current of 
 national feelings, of selfish passions, and religious en- 
 thusiasm, as was only to be counteracted by perfect 
 harmony in coimsel and action. Nothing can be con- 
 ceived more frank and magnanimous, than the conduct 
 of Leiffhton throuohout his transactions with the dis- 
 sentient clergy. In his own account of the Accommo- 
 dation, the extent of his offers is thus stated. 
 
 " It was declared to them, that the difference betwixt 
 us should be freely referred to the Scriptures first of 
 all, and next to the judgment and practice of the pri- 
 mitive 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 Cal- 
 vin, Luther, Mclancthon ; yea, and to the reformed 
 churches abroad, even to those that at present have 
 no bishops ; and last of all to the presbyterians of 
 England; and that if from all these, or any of 
 these, they could justify their continuing divided, even 
 after these offers made, then it should be yielded to 
 them as a thing leasonable. Yea, the person that 
 propounded this further offered them, that if, before
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XCIIl 
 
 the noble and judicious persons then present, or tliat 
 should be present at the time of such a conference, 
 they should produce strong- and clear reasons for their 
 opinion and practice in this point of dillerencc, as now 
 it stands qualified^ he would forthwith resign his pre- 
 sent station, and become their proselyte, and would 
 unite and act with 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 converted into enormous 
 evils by the folly which forbids them to expire with 
 the crisis ; as if what had proved useful as a tempo- 
 rary expedient, must needs be salutary as a permanent 
 institution. It is strangely forgotten that the drug 
 which is a valuable specific for particular diseases 
 would make a very bad article of diet ; and that no- 
 thing can be worse suited for domestic dress than the 
 coat of mail, although it is of excellent service in the 
 field of battle. That notable compact, the League and 
 Covenant, affords a specimen of this mischievous error. 
 Notwithstanding- it contained some very objectionable 
 clauses, it was at its rise of real utility, in shielding the 
 protestant confederacy from the revenge of the discom- 
 fited 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 gene- 
 rations, changed it into a snare and a pest, into a 
 nurse of strife and sedition ; and into a barrier against 
 
 * Wodi-ow MSS., Vol. xxxiv., 4to,, Art, 15.
 
 XCIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 peace the moment it ceased to be a bond of concord. 
 This it was that defeated all the pacific endeavours of 
 Leighton. After he had proved^, that no rule of scrip- 
 ture forbids the appointment of a bishop to be the con- 
 stant president in synods ; — that the fixed presidency 
 of the bishops in synods has as good warrant as the 
 fixed moderating of a presbyter in Kirk sessions, and 
 of ruling Elders ; — that the New Testament no where 
 enjoins, directly or by implication^ a parity of presby- 
 ters, but seems favourable to a regular subordination 
 of ecclesiastical offices ; — that neither the name of 
 bishop^ as conferred on the superior presbyter, nor yet 
 the manner of consecrating him to his office_, can be 
 offensive to soberminded christians ; — and that, while 
 the degree of authority vested in the bishops varied 
 with varying circumstances, yet some such special and 
 preeminent power as was now claimed^ exors qiicedam 
 atque eminens potestas, appeared from the annals of 
 the primitive church, and the canons of the most 
 ancient councils, to have always lodged with certain 
 individuals : — when Leighton had proved all this by 
 reasonings with which it was hard to grapple, the 
 presbyterians took shelter under the solemn oath, 
 which forbad, 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 duty of renouncing an engagement, 
 which must be criminal, if it [)recludcd such alterations 
 as the oracles of God demanded. It was vain to 
 insist, that a door for modification and amendment had 
 been intentionally left open by the very framers of the
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XCV 
 
 covenant. Nothing was to be done with these stiff- 
 necked disputants. The Covenant, the Covenant was 
 the watchword by which party spirit, should it have 
 shickened for a moment_, was histantly strung- to its 
 original rigour ; and the flames of fanaticism, which 
 had been slaked by the mild pathetic eloquence of 
 Leighton^ dropping on them " as the gentle rain from 
 heaven," quickly broke out anew^ and raged with 
 redoubled and desperate violence. 
 
 We have had occasion to expose the punctilious 
 cavillings of the nonconformists. Leighton has left 
 his opinion on record, that the failure of the negotia- 
 tion 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 con- 
 scientious, disinterested, and high-minded feeling was 
 intermingled with sentiments of a baser leaven, so, on 
 the other hand, it ought not to be dissembled, that the 
 character of most of the episcopalian leaders was far 
 from claiming the esteem and confidence of their oppo- 
 nents. The most ardent promoters of the Accommoda- 
 tion, and among them the King, were men whom it were 
 dotage to imagine under the influence of religious prin- 
 ciple ; and the whole project was undisguisedly detested 
 by the bench of bishops, and by the mass of the episco- 
 palian clergy. Under these circumstances the jealousy 
 of the covenanters admits of some palliation. They 
 might apprehend that, however sincere Leighton him- 
 self was^ they still had no guarantee for those stipula-
 
 XCVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 tions being fulfilled, the execution of which depended 
 on others more than on himself. They might fear that 
 Episcopacy, like the Vishnu of Eastern fable, after 
 winning from their incautious facility just room enough 
 to stand upon, by artfully shrinking itself to a pigmy 
 stature, would forthwith 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 admitted. 
 Possessed with these terrors^ which they would natu- 
 rally scruple to acknowledge^, and driven back from one 
 position to another by the persevering condescension 
 of Leighton_, they were compelled to make a last stand 
 behind pitiful subterfuges. In the mean time, their 
 jealousies and resentments were kept alive by the 
 violences, which were proceeding all round the narrow 
 circle within which the treaty was under discussion. A 
 wise and honest policy would have suspended all 
 severities. It would have hushed the storm of perse- 
 cution, which was so unpropitious to calm deliberation 
 and amicable convention. But instead of this being' 
 done, there came forth, in the very crisis of the nego- 
 tiation, an atrocious bill against conventicles, contrived 
 to glide harmlessly over the heads of Romanists, but 
 to fall on Protestant nonconformists with deadly vio- 
 lence. This edict was hurried through parliament with 
 sut:h indecent haste, that Leighton was not apprised of 
 it, till the time to oppose it was past. But, true to his 
 manly independence, he expostulated severely upon it 
 with Lord Tweedale, and declared that the whole com- 
 plexion of it was so contrary to the common rules of
 
 ARCHBISHOP LKIGHTON. XCVU 
 
 humanity, not to say Christianity, that he was ashamed 
 to mix in council with the contrivers and abettors of 
 such acts. 
 
 It would be 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 g-overnment, there would be a tendency 
 in the episcopal part of such a constitution to supplant 
 the presbyterian. Yet might not means be devised 
 for checking encroachments, and for constantly restoring 
 the system, before it had been seriously injured? It 
 may perhaps be permitted to those who think with 
 Leigh ton, that neither one nor another outward frame 
 of the church is absolutely essential to its integrity and 
 usefulness, to lament that the experiment was not made 
 of so blending the presbyterian with the episcopal 
 economy, as to produce something nearer to the pri- 
 mitive pattern than Christendom now exhibits. 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 other form of government, not 
 excepting forms of the most democratical aspect : no- 
 thing beyond what results from that ambitious propen- 
 sity of our nature, which constitutional barriers may 
 keep down, but which is always labouring upwards. 
 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 legimen there are 
 
 Vol. I. g
 
 XCVlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 certain connatural impurities, from which it can never 
 be thorouglily defecated. You may skim 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 
 produce, with the smallest risk of the least considerable 
 evils, the largest sum of public benefit. 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, may even now be pondered with 
 advantage. 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 government, it was the best constituted church 
 in the world, yet, in point of actual administration, it 
 was one of the most defective. In discipline, which 
 he held to be a matter of prime importance, it was, he 
 affirmed, inferior to the corrupt church of Rome itself. 
 He also deplored the hasty and incautious ordination 
 of ministers, whose qualifications for the office had not 
 been ascertained ; and he regarded as a portentous 
 evil the insufficiency of many livings for the mainte- 
 nance of their incumbents, whereby it appears that
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. XCIX 
 
 some of the clergy in tlie north of England were driven 
 to keep alehouses^ the very men "who should have 
 strenuously endeavoured 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 connexion with his former diocese ; 
 and his constant attachment to its clergy is strikingly 
 displayed in the following pastoral letter to the Synod 
 of Dunblane. 
 
 Glasgow, April 6, 1671 . 
 
 Reverend Brethren, 
 
 The superadded burden that I have here sits so heavy 
 upon me, that I cannot escape from under it, to be with you 
 at this time, but my heart and desires 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 remind 
 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, i 
 love to Him that bought them. He knew it well himself; 
 and gave us to 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 
 live!}' expressions of it, not only in our words and discourses, 
 in private and pubhc, but will make the whole track of our 
 hves to be a true copy and transcript of his holy life. And, if 
 there be within us any sparks of tliat divine love, you know 
 
 g2
 
 C THE LIFE OF 
 
 the best way not only to preserve 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 returning to its original, frequent, and fervent 
 prayer, the better half of our whole work, and that whicli 
 makes the other half lively and effectual : as that holy com- 
 pany tells us, v.hen appointing deacons to serve the tables, 
 they add, " But we will give ourselves continually to prayer, 
 and the ministry of the word." And is it not, brethren, our 
 unspeakable advantage, beyond all the gainful and honourable 
 employments of the world, that the whole work of our parti- 
 cular calling is a kind of living in heaven, and besides its 
 tendency to the saving of the souls of others, is all along so 
 proper and adapted to the purifying and saving of our own ? 
 But you will possibly say, what does he himself that speaks 
 these things unto us ? Alas ! I am ashamed to tell you. All 
 I dare say is this : I think I see the beauty of holiness, and 
 am enamoured 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 pursuit, yea, or in the possession and enjoyment, 
 though unpursued, of all the advantages that this world 
 affords. And I trust, dear brethren, you are of the same 
 opinion, and have the same desire and design, and follow it 
 both more diligently, and with better success. But I will stop 
 here, lest I should forget myself, and possibly run on till 1 
 have wearied you, if I have not done that already : and yet if 
 it be so, I M'ill hojie for easy pardon at your hands, as of a 
 fault I have not been accustomed to heretofore, nor am likely 
 hereafter often to connnit. To the all-powerful grace of our 
 great Lord and Master, I recommend you, and 3'our flocks, 
 and your whole work amongst them : and do earnestly entreat 
 your pi-ayers for 
 
 Your unworthiest, but most affectionate, 
 
 lirother and Servant, 
 
 R. Leighton.
 
 ARCHBISHOP I.EIGIITON. CI 
 
 Sonne time after the negotiation with the noncon- 
 formists liad gone off^ Leighton was required by a 
 royal mandate to assist the Lords of the Cooncil 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 lirst he was disposed not to recom- 
 mend any others, since those whom he considered 
 most eligible had refused to bring their shoulder under 
 the burden. 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 little 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 reduce the turbulence 
 of the covenanters, by executing the measure, that 
 Burnet had long before suggested, of placing the dis- 
 carded ministers in parishes by couples. The Arch- 
 bishop of Glasgow had already expressed his appro- 
 bation of til is scheme, aptly comparing 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 suppressing 
 the spirit of recusancy was gone by. Dissent was 
 now exasperated into faction ; and had the times 
 been more favourable, it would still have required a 
 hand less wayward and inconstant than Lauderdale's, 
 to impress a new form on the stubborn soul of presby- 
 terianism.
 
 Cll THE LIFE OF 
 
 Leif^htoii now considered bis work finished ; and 
 began to think again of withdrawing from a post, 
 his continuance in which seemed useless 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 of the others, among whom 
 was one Robert Law, from whose memorials I have 
 collected the fact, occasioned him much uneasiness 
 by their disorderly and seditious 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 against 
 them to the Privy Council. All these crosses and 
 disappointments were regarded by Leighton, as so 
 many providential intimations to relinquish an em- 
 ployment wherein he was doing no service to the 
 church, while sacrificing all his personal comfort. 
 Anguish was drinking up his spirit, without benefit 
 to the cause of religion. Accordingly, he rigorously 
 canvassed the legality of abdicating his office : he 
 found out several instances of Bishops who had taken 
 that step, and gone into retirement ; and at length 
 he fully satisfied himself that the law of God did not 
 rc{]uire him to retain his bishopric, when the business 
 of it was but to consume its revenues in stately indo- 
 lence. On scrutinizing his own heart, he could not 
 perceive that he was prompted to this measure by
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. Clll 
 
 successive disgusts, by impatience of the cross^ by 
 wounded pride, by secret indignation at Providence, 
 or by his natural propensity to a quiet, studious and 
 contemplative privacy. Was it not a duty rather 
 than a fault, to renounce a position of anxious dignity, 
 and barren of usefulness, for one more favourable to 
 prayer and meditation, to communion with God, and 
 to preparation for eternity? He was now growing 
 old and infirm : he had need to respire from over- 
 whelming fatigues ; and well could he adopt for his 
 motto the sentence of Buchanan, " Senectiite fractus, 
 portiim 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 result from his remaining 
 in it. 
 
 We can hardly doubt that Leigh ton had been long 
 looking out for the moment, when he might indulge, 
 without violence to his conscience, his disposition to 
 seclusion from the world. The followinor letter to his 
 sister, Mrs. Lightmaker, apparently in the latter 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 ear-
 
 CIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 ncstly desired a line to 3-011, which ^vitllout his desire my own 
 affection would have carried nie 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 Ilim 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 any where 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 any thing 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 kindest affection to your son and 
 daughter and to Mr. Siderfin, and pray for 
 
 Your poor weary brother, 
 Dunblane, April 19th. R. L. 
 
 This letter is dated from Dunblane, where he seems 
 to have mostly resided^ after the treaty of accommoda- 
 tion came to nothing-. In this retreat, to which he was 
 •very partial, there is still in existence a shady avenue, 
 called '' the Bishop's walk ;" a name which it acquired 
 from his practice of pacing up and down it, when he 
 wished to combine bodily exercise with spiritual medi- 
 tation. Of the reverence which embalms his memory, 
 there is a yet moie striking- instance in a carved mitre 
 remaining- over the library of his books in Dunblane ; — 
 a solitary instance, it is believed, of such a symbol being- 
 allowed to exist in Scotland. It was probably from 
 this place 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.
 
 ARCHDISIIOP LEIGHTON. CV 
 
 Letter to the Synod of Glasgow, convened April 
 1673. 
 
 Reverend Brethren, 
 
 It is neither a matter of much hnportancc, nor can I yet 
 give yoii a particular and satisfying account of the reasons of 
 my absence from your mcethig, 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 amongst 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 
 souls, and His glory that bought them Avith 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 master 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 suffer 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 sovils 
 to be found amongst us, that represent their own original, that 
 are possessed 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
 
 CVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 blameless soever the ex- 
 ternals 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 gods, 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 
 any thing should possess our hearts but He that loved us, and 
 gave himself for us ; for we know we cannot be vessels of 
 honour meet for the INIaster'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 nor 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 wisest reflection upon 
 the many difficulties and discouragements without us, to be 
 driven by them to live more w ithin ; 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, 
 witli the more severity and exactness? And if we be dashed 
 and bespattered witli reproaches abroad, to study to be the 
 cleaner at home ; and the less we find of meekness and charity 
 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 \\e most 
 effectually 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
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON.- CVll 
 
 increase in this Cluircli, and threaten to undo it, I think our 
 wisdom shall be, to cease from man, and look for no help till 
 we look more upwards, 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 the earth. 
 Concerning myself, I have nothing to say, but humbly to 
 entreat you to pass by the many failings and weaknesses you 
 may have perceived in me during my abode amongst you ; and 
 if in any thing I have injured or offended you, or any of you, 
 in the management of my public charge, or in private converse, 
 I do sincerely beg your pardon : though, I confess, I cannot 
 make any requital in that kind; for I do not know of any 
 thing towards me, from any of you, that needs a pardon in 
 the least ; having generally paid me more kindness and re- 
 spect, than a much better or wiser man could either have 
 expected or deserved. Nor am I only a suitor for your pardon, 
 but for the addition of a further charity, and that so great a 
 one, that I have nothing to plead for it, but that I need it 
 much, — your prayers. And 1 am hopeful as to that, to make 
 you some little, though very disproportioned return ; for what- 
 soever 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, 
 
 R. 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 entreat a blessing on the seed committed to the 
 ground, and for the other grave causes that are still the same 
 as they Avere the last year, and the urgency of them no whit 
 abated , but rather increased : but in this I prescribe nothino- 
 but leave it to your discretion, and the direction of God. 
 
 The account is brief, which Burnet has given, of
 
 CVlil THE LIFE 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 jnotion, but was at last pre- 
 vailed upon to obtain the King's consent in writing 
 for the Archbishop's retirement at the expiration of a 
 year, if his own mind should not have undergone a 
 change within that period^ as Lauderdale expected 
 would be the case. The following is a copy of the 
 roval eng-ag-ement. 
 
 " Charles R. 
 
 " It is our Mill and pleasure, that the present Archbishop 
 of Glasgow do continue in tliat station for one whole year ; and 
 Ave sliall allow liberty to liim to retire from thence at the end 
 of that time. 
 
 " Given at our Court, at Whitehall, the Ninth day of Au- 
 gust, 1()73; and of our Reign, the Twenty-fifth Year. By 
 his Majesty's command." 
 
 Having gained this pointy Leighton went back de- 
 lighted, and observed to Burnet_, that " there w^as now 
 but one uneasy stage between him and rest^ and he 
 would wrestle through it the best he could." Accord- 
 ingly, no sooner was the year completed^ than he 
 hastened up to London, and laid down his archbishop- 
 ric, which was restored to its former possessor Dr. 
 Alexander Burnet. After his resignation^ he resided 
 for a short time in the College of Edinburgh : whence 
 he retired to Broadhurst, a demesne in the parish of 
 Horsted Keynes, Sussex^ belonging to liis sister^ tlie
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CIX 
 
 widow of Edward Liohtmaker, Esq. ; and with her he 
 continued till his death. 
 
 The slightest notice is more^ perhaps, than ought to 
 be bestowed on the account which Robert Law has 
 penned of the transaction just narrated ; since to those 
 who have the least acquaintance with Leighton's cha- 
 racter, 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 offended, persuaded the King to take in 
 good earnest his hypocritical resignation^ notwithstand- 
 ing the utmost efforts of Sir Ellis and other court 
 friends to avert that catastrophe. Thus was the poor 
 Archbishop, as this shameless story-teller would have 
 it believed^ overreached in his own craftiness. 
 
 Dismissing- this contemptible fabrication, and along 
 with it another idle tale, that his object was to exchange 
 his Scotch bishopric for one in England, we may 
 advert to an account which, if not quite correct, yet is 
 probably not quite devoid of truth. 
 
 The account is that Leighton^ finding his authority 
 in the diocesan synod of Glasgow but w^eak, while he 
 administered that see under the title of Commendatory 
 procured himself to be elected Archbishop on the 27th 
 of October, 1671 ; but the Duke of Lauderdale did 
 not ratify the election by the Fling's letters 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 
 divert him from this step ; but when that crafty minister 
 was endangered by a vote of the House of Commons,
 
 ex THE LIFE OF 
 
 it occurred to him that he might gain over the episco- 
 pal bench to his side, and thus ^vard off an impeach- 
 ment, by making use of Leighton's resignation, which 
 Avas lelt in his hands, and by reinstating Burnet *, 
 whose deprivation had given mortal offence to the 
 English Bishops. 
 
 It is very credible that Lauderdale was induced by 
 these considerations to accept tlie resignation, which 
 he would otherwise have steadily refused ; however 
 willing, on the score of personal feeling, to be fairly 
 rid of a prelate, who had never stooped to solicit his 
 favour, and seldom appeared at his levees. But this 
 admission will nowise impugn the Archbishop's sin- 
 cerity in making the tender. The reasons for resign- 
 ing, which he himself assigned in a paper that has 
 appeared in Bower's History of the University of 
 Edinburgh, will find ready credit with fair and think- 
 ing 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 unfix- 
 edness of mind, considering how often I declared 
 beforehand, both by word and writing, the great sus- 
 picions 1 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 
 
 * Tliis bishop was translated to St. Andrews, after the assassination 
 of Arclibishop Sharp, which took place on the third of May, A. D. Hi 79, 
 on Magus Moor. He died on tlie 24th August 1084.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXI 
 
 any cause imaginable for any such thing ; but the 
 true reasons of ray 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 unworthhiess and unfit- 
 ness for so high a station in the church ; and there is 
 an episcopal act that is above all others formidable 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 tune ; and as little hope^ amidst those conten- 
 tions and disorders, of doing any thing' in this station 
 to promote the great design of religion in the hearts 
 and lives of men^ which were the only reason of con- 
 tinuing 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 sick- 
 liness and old age drawing on, and the sufficient expe- 
 rience 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 remov- 
 ing 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 of the world's opinion_, 
 both which I think I have so much reason to despise." 
 
 Of the discourse and employments of this man of
 
 CXll THE LIFE OF 
 
 God^ (luring- the sequel of his life, we have no complete 
 account. Some few particulars, however, 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 tranquil devotion. Having spent 
 his prime in the active duties of his profession, and in 
 the service of his fellow-creatures, he saw no impro- 
 priety, but rather a suitableness, in consecrating 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. Accordingly 
 he lived in great seclusion ; and abstained, to the ut- 
 most that charity and courtesy would allow, from 
 giving and receiving visits. Let it not be supposed, 
 however, that he withdrew from ministerial employ- 
 ments. After disburdening himself of the episcopal 
 dignity, he again took to the vocation of a parish 
 minister, and was constantly engaged at Horsted 
 Keynes, or one of the neighbouring churches, in read- 
 ing prayers or in preaching. In the peasant's cottage, 
 likewise^ 
 
 his tongue dropped 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 conso- 
 lations ; his tenderness in private converse ; and the
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTOM. CXIII 
 
 impressive sanctity, which he carried into the solemni- 
 ties of public worship. 
 
 Leighton was not by nature morose and ascetic : yet 
 something- of a cloisteral complexion appears to have 
 been wrought 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 commerce of the world ; 
 to gain the highest places of sacred contemplation, 
 and to maintain perpetual intercourse with heaven. 
 
 That he was no friend to monastic seclusion is cer- 
 tain. He reckoned the greater number of the regular 
 clergy in Roman Catholic counti'ies, to be little better 
 than ignavi fures, rapacious drones ; at the same time 
 that he recognised among them a few specimens of 
 extraordinary growth in religion ; and thought he had 
 discovered in the piety of some conventual recluses a 
 peculiar and celestial flavour, which could hardly be 
 met with elsewhere. Of their sublime devotion he 
 often spoke with an admiration approaching 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, to crop the 
 choicest clusters of heavenly 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, — fervently to lift up our 
 souls unto God, and to have our conversation in 
 heaven," His opinion was that a mixed life, or, as 
 
 Vol. I. h
 
 CXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 he beautifully termed it^ an angelical life, was the 
 most excellent ; a life spent between ascending to 
 fetch blessings from above, and descending to scatter 
 them among mortals. Would christians retreat 
 occasionally from the dizzy whirl of life, and give 
 themselves time to reflect, they might become ena- 
 moured of those beauties, which he above the com- 
 pass of natural vision on the summit of God's holy 
 mountain. 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 retirement, 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 well-spring of divine love in his 
 soul, it would be hard to speak extravagantly. Prayer 
 and praise were his business and his pleasure. So 
 earnest was his manner of praying that his soul seemed 
 carried up to heaven by the energy of his aspirations. 
 Although none was ever less tainted with a mechanical 
 spirit in religion, yet he denied that the use of written 
 forms put to flight the power of devotion ; and he 
 himself occasionally employed them with a fervency 
 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." Considering prayer, 
 fervent, frequent, intercessory prayer, to be a capital 
 part of the clerical oflice, he would repeat, w ith great 
 approbation, that apoplithegm of a pious bishop ; 
 Nccc6-sc csty non id multum Ic^amiis, sed 2(t miiltum
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXV 
 
 oremus. This he looked upon as the vessel which 
 alone draws living" water from the well of divine mys- 
 teries. 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 investigate the truths of Revelation, he 
 thought he understood them pretty well ; but, after 
 much study of commentators, he was infinitely more per- 
 plexed than before. With what a holy emphasis would 
 Leighton exclaim in commenting upon those words of 
 David ; '' Thou (O God) hast taught me :" " Non homi- 
 nes^ nee consiietudo, nee indiistria meuy sed tu docuisti." 
 
 It is not, however, to be imagined that this great 
 prelate, who was himself one of the most learned men 
 of a very learned age, undervalued human erudition. 
 On the contrary, he greatly encouraged it in his clergy ; 
 and has been heard to declare, that there could not be 
 too much, if it were but sanctified. But then he set 
 far higher store by real piety ; and would remark, 
 with a felicitous introduction of a passage from Seneca ; 
 ^'NoH opus est multis Uteris ad bonam mentem, but to be 
 established in grace and replenished with the spirit." 
 Pointing to his books, one day, he said to his nephew, 
 " One devout thought is worth them all ;" — meaning, 
 no doubt, that no accumulation of knowledge is of any 
 value in comparison with genuine holiness. 
 
 Of his delight in the inspired volume we have ample 
 evidence in his writings, which are beautifully studded 
 with gems extracted from that sacred mine. How 
 would he lament that most people, instead of feeding 
 
 h 2
 
 CXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 upon scriptural verities, instead of ruminatmg- on them 
 leisurely, and prolong-ing the luxury as skilful epicures 
 •would, rather swallowed them down whole like bitter 
 pills^ of which the taste is industriously disguised I 
 His French bible, now in the library of Dunblane^ is 
 marked in numerous places ; and the blank leaves of 
 it are filled with extracts made by his own pen from 
 Jerome, Chrysostom, 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 sometimes style it, by an elegant application of 
 a scriptural metaphor, " a bundle of myrrh, that ought 
 to lie day and night in the bosom *." " Scarce a hue 
 in that sacred psalter (writes his nephew) that hath 
 passed without 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 almost 
 disabled by illness from 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 coun- 
 tenance, by my example, the irreligious practice of letting 
 trivial hindrances keep us back from public worship." 
 
 Averse as he was to parade of all kinds, and espe- 
 cially to dizening out religion in modish draperies, yet 
 he was mA for shrouding her in a gloomy cowl, nor for 
 exposing her to needless scorn, as he thought the 
 
 * Song of Solomon, chap. i. v. 13.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXVll 
 
 Quakers did, by dressing* her with '^ an hood and 
 bells." It was his wish to see public worship so or- 
 dered as to exclude superfluous ornament ; while it 
 preserved those sober decencies, 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 readers, that 
 Leighton's latitudinarian views on the subject of eccle- 
 siastical polity bordered upon the romantic, and were 
 unsuitable to the present imperfect state of the christian 
 church. But it is due to him not to forg-et^ that he was 
 an inexorable enemy to laxity and disorder ; and main- 
 tained the necessity of a regular and exact administra- 
 tion of the church, although he was comparatively 
 indifferent about the form of that administration, if it 
 did but ensure a g-ood supply for the religious wants of 
 the people. " The mode of church government,'^ he 
 would say^ " is immaterial ; but peace and concord, 
 kindness and goodwill, are indispensable. But, alas, I 
 rarely find, in these days, men nerved with a holy 
 resolution to contend for the substance more than for 
 the ceremony ; and disposed 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 incorpo- 
 rated with the whole frame of his life and conversation. 
 This gave a peculiarity, which was striking and im- 
 pressive, to many of his ordinary actions. They were 
 the same things which other men did^ but they were
 
 CXVlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 done in another manner, and exhibited the shining 
 ^rint of his angelic spirit. So impressively was this 
 the case, that his nephew, when a little child, struck 
 with his reverential manner of saying grace 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 vigour, gave birth to a more finished 
 pattern than Leighton of the love of holiness. It was 
 truly his reigning 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 perfection of their natures, and rest- 
 lessness 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 
 spatiosam fallere noctein." 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 stunted 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 chris- 
 tians. In the subjoined letter this habit of mind, this 
 insatiable longing after perfect holiness, is finely por- 
 trayed. It was written when he was principal of the 
 University of Edinburgh.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXIX 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Oh ! what a weariness is it to Uve amongst men, and find 
 so few men; and amongst 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, 
 pusillanimous and base, and so easily dragged 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. Well, I 
 know you are not willing to be thus gulled ; and having some 
 glances of the beauty of holiness, aim no lower than perfec- 
 tion, which in the end we hope to attain ; and in the mean- 
 while the smallest advances towards it are more 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 honourably, and to live in celestial love within; 
 that will make all things without be very contemptible 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 what- 
 ever 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 
 towards 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 abstraction, and to keep 
 as much aloof from the world, as Leighton did in the 
 period of his life we are now reviewing. Indeed, he 
 himself expressed his conviction, that " a thorough 
 practical belief of those things, which we all acknow-
 
 CXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 ledge 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 condition, in not commonly 
 letting in upon our minds more vivid views of futu- 
 rity. Nevertheless, it is of vast advantage to have 
 before our eyes some bright instances of saints who 
 have outstripped their competitors, 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 godliness are the 
 spiritual salt which keeps the world from corruption. 
 They rebuke the slackness of those half-hearted home- 
 sick mariners, who stand off and on, wistfully eyeing 
 the shore from which they have reluctantly parted, 
 instead of at once launching into the deep, and making 
 sail for a better country. They prevent a scandalous 
 depression of the standard of christian piety ; they 
 animate the despondent to hope and perseverance ; 
 and they prove, with a demonstration which puts to 
 shame the cavils of the sceptic, how superior christian 
 philosophy is in the formation of character to the most 
 elaborate systems of human ethics. 
 
 Of the effectual eloquence of Leighton's great ex- 
 ample a striking instance is adduced in Mr. Edward 
 Lightmaker's letter. The writer's father, after wit- 
 nessing the holy and mortified life of this eminent 
 saint, became sensible that a man is in no safe con- 
 dition for dying, unless he be striving after the highest 
 degrees of piety. " If none shall go to heaven," he
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXl 
 
 exclaimed, *' but so holy a man as this, what will 
 become of me ?" Under these impressions he very 
 much withdrew from the world, relinquished a profit- 
 able business because of its dangerous entanglements, 
 and made the care of his ultimate felicity his chief 
 occupation. 
 
 Such consequences might well be expected to flow 
 from an intimacy with Leighton^ for his discourse 
 breathed the spirit of heaven. To no one, perhaps^ 
 do the exquisite lines of the Christian poet Cowper 
 more accurately apply : — 
 
 When one that holds communion with the skies 
 Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise, 
 And once more ming'les 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 reflec- 
 tions ; and it was his professed opinion, that nothing 
 takes oft" more from the authority of ministers and the 
 efficacy 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 perpe- 
 tual 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
 
 CXXll THE LIFE OF 
 
 from him^ just as the slightest motion makes a full 
 goblet run over. Meeting a blind beggar one day, he 
 observed, ^' Methinks this poor sufferer cries out in 
 behalf 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 spiritually blind 
 who ask it." " It is extremely severe," said his sister 
 to him, speaking of the weather : '^ But thou, O God, 
 hast made summer and winter," was his devout reply. 
 Some one saying, " You have been to hear a ser- 
 mon :" " \ 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 endeavoured to gather spiritual good 
 out of every passing circumstance, 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 tenour 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 "^ Bet- 
 ter 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 
 notliing, and he left it to a better wisdom than his own 
 to carve out his earthly lot. " If we are born to worldly 
 greatnesses, let us even take them, and endeavour to 
 make friends with them who shall stand us in good
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXIU 
 
 stead, when we are put out of our stewardship : but 
 to desh'e that our journey should be by the troublesome 
 and dangerous road of worldly prosperity, is a mighty 
 folly." He was pleased with an ingenious similitude 
 of Dr. Sale's, who compares the good things of this life 
 to mushrooms, which need so many precautions in eat- 
 ing, that wholly to waive the dish is the safest wisdom. 
 To corporeal indulgences none was ever more indif- 
 ferent. Indeed, he practised a rigid abstemiousness, 
 keeping three fasts in the week, and one of them always 
 on the Sunday, 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 
 abstinence : 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 Christians ought 
 to exercise at the table, will be generally accounted 
 extravagant. When his sister once invited him to eat 
 of a particular dish, extolling its goodness, 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. Light- 
 maker, " why were these things bestowed on us ? " 
 ^*To see," he rejoined, ^' how well we could forbear 
 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 preparation of their meals, and wished this domestic
 
 CXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 profusion were turned into a channel of distribution 
 to the poor. Every thing- beyond the mere neces- 
 saries of life he termed the overflowings of a full 
 cup, which ought not to run to waste^ but to descend 
 into tlie poor man's platter. The gratifications of 
 bodily appetite would not, he was persuaded, be so 
 much reckoned on, if professed christians had more 
 '' spiritual sensuality," as he often termed that ardent 
 relish, which is the characteristic of sanctified souls, 
 for the meat and drink, the hidden manna, of God's 
 immortal banquet. 
 
 He used to compare a man's station in life to an im- 
 prisonment, and observed, that, '^'^ although it is right 
 to keep the place of our confinement clean and neat, 
 it were ill done to build upon it." His sister, think- 
 ing 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 it 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 that he 
 received was transferred to the poor, except the bare 
 pittance which his necessities imperiously demanded 
 for himself. Unwilling, however, to gain any credit 
 for beneficence, 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 dependents, there
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXV 
 
 is an anecdote which will not disgrace our pages. 
 He once had a Roman Catholic servant^ who made 
 a point of abstaining" from flesh on the fast days 
 prescribed 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 endeavour 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 
 inchnation, 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 manservant^ 
 whose idle pranks have earned him a never-dying 
 fame in Dunblane and its neighbourhood. The follow- 
 ing story may be taken as a sample of the provoca- 
 tions with which this thoughtless fellow used to try 
 his master's equanimity. Having a fancy one morn- 
 ing for the diversion of fishing, he locked the door 
 of the house and carried off the key, leaving his mas- 
 ter imprisoned. He was too much engrossed with 
 his sport to think of returning till the evening, when 
 the only admonition he received for his egregious 
 misconduct was, " John, when you next go a fishing, 
 remember to leave the key in the door." 
 
 The whole tenour of Leighton's life proclaims his 
 abhorrence of persecution. His sister once asked 
 him, at the request of a friend, what he thought
 
 CXXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 was the mark of the Beast ; at the same thue adding', 
 " I told the inquirer that you would certainly answer, 
 you could not tell." "^ Truly you said well," replied 
 Leighton ; '' but, if I might fancy what it were, it 
 w'ould be something with a pair of horns that pushetli 
 his neighbour, as hath been so much seen and prac- 
 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 into similar 
 measures. 
 
 We have seen, in the narrative of his public con- 
 duct, how firmly he withstood the severe measures set 
 on foot to produce an uniformity of worship in Scotland. 
 Swords and halberts, tongs and pincers, were very 
 unfit instruments, in his esteem, for advancing- the 
 science and practice of religion, '^'^The scripture tells 
 us, indeed, of plucking out a right eye for the pre- 
 servation of the whole body ; but if that eye admit of 
 a cure, it should rather be preserved ; only let its 
 cure be committed 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 
 any thing, rather than touch a hair of the liead of 
 those who laboured under such pitiable maladies as 
 errors in faith must be accounted. Or, if he did 
 meddle with them, it should be with such a gentle 
 touch, as would prove the friendliness of his disposition 
 and purpose." ^' I prefer," he has been heard to say, 
 " an erroneous honest man before the most orthodox
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXVll 
 
 knave in the world ; and I would rather convince a 
 man that lie has a soul to save, and induce him to 
 live up to that behef, 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 now among- us! Let us press them 
 to be holy, and miscarry if they can." Being- told 
 of a person 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 g-oing 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 reasons for nonconformity, although 
 he had gone for the express purpose of discussing 
 them, instantly fell in with the train of conversation, 
 and concluded his visit without attempting to change 
 it. To some of his friends who remonstrated with 
 him on this apparent oversight, — " Nay," he replied, 
 *^' the good man and I were in the main agreed ; 
 and for the points in which we differ, they are mostly 
 unimportant ; and though they be of moment, it is 
 advisable before pressing any, to win as many volun- 
 teers as we can." 
 
 This feature of his character is further illustrated by 
 an anecdote, which there is every reason to believe 
 authentic. A friend calling upon him one day, and 
 not meeting him at home, learnt on inquiry that he 
 was gone to visit a sick presbyterian minister on a 
 horse which he had borrowed of the catholic priest.
 
 CXXVlil THE LIFE OF 
 
 An interesting anecdote may here find a place^ which 
 displays several of Leighton's admirable qualities. 
 
 Travelling with a friend in the vicinity of Dunblane, 
 he was suddenly arrested by a cry of distress. On 
 looking towards the quarter from which it came, he saw, 
 at some little distance, a man who implored his assist- 
 ance, and pointed to another man who was stretched on 
 the ground, apparently in the last agonies. Leighton 
 instantly quitted his carriage and advanced to the 
 spot, when the wretch who seemed at the point of 
 death, but was only feigning, started up from the 
 ground, and joined in robbing the compassionate 
 bishop. Having accomplished their nefarious project, 
 they allowed him'to return to his carriage. But hardly 
 had he set off "again, when the man he had first en- 
 countered came running after him, and conjured him, 
 with the air and voice of distraction, to return to his 
 assistance, as his comrade was indeed expiring. The 
 travellers were naturally suspicious of some new vil- 
 lainy : but observing the genuine terror imprinted 
 on the features of the suppliant, they complied with 
 his request, and on reaching the spot, found the other 
 footpad actually dead, — a moiuiment of the righteous 
 judgment of heaven. Leighton preached a sermon 
 on the occasion. 
 
 His sobriety of mind and soundness of judgment 
 ought not to be passed over in silence. These quali- 
 ties were conspicuous in his never pretending to deve- 
 lope the secret things of God, notwithstanding the 
 variety of his learning and his talent for high specula- 
 tion. Instead of hazarding a guess on a diilicult point
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXIX 
 
 to which he had been requested to turn his thoughts, 
 he said to the inquirer, on meeting' him some time 
 afterwards, '' I have not yet got the lesson you set 
 me." And to his nephew, who comphxined that there 
 was a certain text of scripture which he could not 
 understand, his answer was, " And many more that I 
 cannot." In reverently standing aloof from those 
 mysteries 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 exemplified the saying of Solomon, that 
 *' with the lowly is wisdom." Being once interrogated 
 about the saints reigning with Christ, he tried to elude 
 the question by merely replying, '' If we suffer with 
 him, we shall also reign with him." Pressed, how- 
 ever, to give his opinion, whether 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." Prying into 
 matters of this nature, which the spirit of God has 
 apparently sealed up from man's inquisitiveness, was in 
 his estimation indecent and dangerous ; and he thought 
 that passionate curiosity which overleaps the boun- 
 daries of revelation might be well rebuked by the 
 angel's answer to Manoah, " Why askest thou thus 
 after my name, seeing it is secret ?" '^ Enough_," he 
 said, '^is discovered to satisfy us, that righteousness 
 and judgment are within, although round about his 
 throne are clouds and darkness :" and he blamed those 
 
 Vol. I. i
 
 CXXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 "who boldly venture into the very thick darkness 
 and deepest recesses of the divine majesty." "That 
 prospect of election and predestination," said he, " is a 
 g-reat abyss, into which I choose to sink, rather than 
 attempt to sound it. And truly any attempt at throw- 
 ing light upon it makes it only a greater abyss, and is 
 a piece of blameable presumption." In conformity 
 with these sound views, he always endeavoured, when 
 Principal of the University of Edinburgh, to repress 
 such perilous inquiries; judging them of a nature to 
 make young students conceited, disputatious, and 
 sceptical, and to lead them away from the love of truth 
 and the practice of piety. 
 
 How discreet and tender a counsellor he was to per- 
 sons labouring under religious doubts and perplexities, 
 the two foUowino' letters bear witness. The first of 
 
 o 
 
 these is to a lady of quality to whom he was personally 
 unknown, but who seems to have sought his advice 
 through the intervention of a common friend. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 Though I have not the honour to be acquainted ^vith 
 your Ladyship, yet a friend of yours has acquainted me with 
 your condition, though, I confess, the unfittest of all men to 
 minister any thing of spiritual relief to any person, eitlier by 
 prayer or advice to you ; but he could liave imparted such a 
 thing to none of greater secrecy, and withal of greater sym- 
 patliy and tender compassion towards such as are exercised with 
 those kind of conflicts ; as, havlni:; been formerly acquainted 
 with the like myself, all sorts of sceptical and doubtful thoughts, 
 touching those great points having not only j)ast through my 
 liead, but some of them have for some time sat more fast and
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXXl 
 
 painfully upon my mind ; but in the name of the Lord they 
 were at length quite dispelled and scattered. 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 confident 3''ou 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 counte- 
 nance ; and it is that alone that can enlighten you, and clear 
 yoxu' mind of all those fogs and mists that now possess it, and 
 calm the storms that are raised within it. You do well to read 
 good books that are proper for your help, but rather the shortest 
 and plainest, than the more tedious and voluminous, that some- 
 times entangle a perplexed mind yet more, by grasping many 
 more questions, and answers, and arguments than is needful : 
 but, above all, still cleave to the incomparable spring of light 
 and divine comfort, the Holy Sci'iptures, even in despite of all 
 doubts concerning them. And when you find your thoughts 
 in disorder and at a loss, entertain no dispute with them by 
 any means at that time, but rather divert from 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 confi- 
 dence in God, then you may resume your reasons against un- 
 belief, yet so as to beware of casting yourself into new disturb- 
 ance. For when your mind is in a sober temper, there is 
 nothing so suitable to its strongest reason, nothing so wise 
 and noble as religion 5 and to believe it is so rational, that, 
 as now I am framed, I am afraid that my belief proceeds 
 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 
 
 » 2
 
 CXXXU THE LIFE OF 
 
 wittiest atheists and libertines in the world, is nothing but bold 
 ravery and madness, and their whole discourse a heap of folly 
 and ridiculous nonsense. For what probable account can they 
 give of the wonderful 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 tormented with appre- 
 hensions that the doctrine of religion is, or may be, true ; and 
 you are perplexed with suggestions to doubt of it, which are to 
 you as unwilling and unwelcome, as these apprehensions of its 
 truth arc to them. Believe it, Madam, these different thoughts 
 of yours are not yours, but his that inserts them, and throws 
 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 advantage 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 to 
 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 ten- 
 derest and kindest of all fathers; and, as a father pities his 
 chikl 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
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXXUl 
 
 any child of his, that arise not from any wilful hatred of him, 
 but are kindled in hell within them ? And no temptation 
 hath befallen you in this, but that which has been incident to 
 men, and to the best of men ; and their heavenly father hath 
 not only forgiven them, but in due time hath given them an 
 happy issue out of them, and so he will assuredly do to you. 
 In the mean time, when these assaults come thickest and vio- 
 lentest upon you, throw yourself down at his footstool, and 
 say"; " O God, father of mercies, save me from this hell 
 within me. I 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 : bvit I cannot 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 violently 
 shake me off, which I am confident thou wouldst not do, be- 
 cause 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 mean time, 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 un- 
 worthiest 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 : Avait, I say, on the Lord. 
 
 The next is to some christian friend, whose name is 
 unknown.
 
 CXXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 pre- 
 sent it to him, who alone can effectually 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 whatso- 
 ever they are, look above them and labour to fix your eye on 
 that infinite 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 exception, 
 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 re- 
 nouncing your own will, embrace that blest and holy will in 
 all things, there I am siu-e 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 sprinkling 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. 
 
 We learn from Burnet, that ^' bis thoughts were 
 lively, oft out of the way and sui'prising, yet just and 
 genuine ;" and several of his sayings might be ad- 
 duced to justify this praise, and to show him well read 
 in the science and management of human nature. It
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXXV 
 
 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 behoved him to speak : — a knowledge not 
 less rare than valuable. One of his favourite axioms 
 was, that " All things operate according to the dispo- 
 sition 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 requisite to make religious 
 advice salutary, namely, time and judgment ; and he 
 thought the following maxim might often be remem- 
 bered with advantage, — philosophandum, sed paiicis. 
 Accordingly he was quite against jading hearers with 
 discourses beyond the measure of their understanding, 
 or their patience : " for it is better," said he, " to send 
 them home still hungry than surfeited." He was no ad- 
 vocate in general for crude and abrupt exposures of 
 unpalatable truths. Being told of an author, who had 
 entitled his performance, " Naked Truth whipt and 
 stript," his remark was, "It might have been better 
 to clothe it :" and he saw nothing praiseworthy in the 
 roughness, misnamed honesty, of some people, " who 
 would rather overturn the boat than trim it." I shall 
 only add, in illustration of this point of his character, 
 a prayer he used to offer up, which is pregnant with 
 melancholy meaning: '^Deliver me, O Lord, from 
 the errors of wise men ; yea, 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
 
 CXXXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 says, that " he seemed to have the lowest thoughts of 
 himself possible, and to desire that all other persons 
 should think as meanly of him as he did of himself; 
 and he bore all sorts of ill usage and reproach, like a 
 man that took pleasure in it." 
 
 This character of his mind is finely displayed in the 
 following passage from one of his letters. 
 
 And now I have begun, I would end just 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 sufficiently know, and daily 
 read, and daily think, and, I am confident, daily endeavour 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 cannot 
 choose but know. Instead of all fine notions, I fly to Kv^ie 
 kXiriiov, X^i^TTE kxifiao)!. I think them the great heroes and ex- 
 cellent persons of the world, that attain to high degrees of pure 
 contemplation and divine love ; but next to those, them that 
 in aspiring to that and 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 Avorld. And I believe that they 
 that sink lowest into that depth, stand nearest to advancement 
 to those other heights : for the great King, who is the foun- 
 tain of that honour, 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 upwards, to remember a poor caitiff, who no 
 day forgets you. II. L. 
 
 13th December, 1G76. 
 
 On the eve of taking a bishopric, when he perceived 
 how many obstacles existed to his doing the good he
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXXVU 
 
 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 igno- 
 rant of the value set on his pulpit discourses by the 
 public — for never was a wandering eye seen when he 
 preached, but the whole congregation would often melt 
 into tears before him, — yet the most urgent entreaties 
 of his friends could never obtain from him the publica- 
 tion of a single sermon. Indeed, he looked upon him- 
 self as so ordinary a preacher^ and so little calculated 
 to do good^ that he was always for giving up his place 
 to other ministers ; and after he became a bishop^ he 
 preferred preaching to small congregations, and would 
 never give notice beforehand when he was to occupy 
 the pulpit. Of a piece with his rooted dislike to any 
 thing that seemed to imply consequence in himself, 
 was his strong objection to have his portrait drawn. 
 When it was requested of him^ he testified unusual 
 displeasure and said, "^ If you will have my picture, 
 draw it with charcoal/' meaning, no doubt, that he was 
 carbone notandus, as justly obnoxious to scorn and con- 
 demnation. His likeness was, however, clandestinely 
 taken, when he was about the middle age ; and as the 
 engravings prefixed to this edition of his works are 
 copied from it, it is gratifying to know from such good 
 authority as his nephew's letter, that it greatly resem- 
 bled him. 
 
 Leighton was never married, but a tradition exists of 
 an amusing attempt that was made to deprive him of 
 the meed of celibacy. One day, when pacing his 
 shady walk, he was accosted by a lady, who, with some
 
 CXXXVlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 appearance of embarrassment, and many apologies for 
 the intrusion^ trusting that he would ascribe to an im- 
 perious sense of duty^ and not to indelicate forwardness, 
 the communication she was about to make, informed 
 him that in a dream, which she was thoroughly satis- 
 fied came from heaven, he had been announced to her 
 as her future husband. Of course it remained for his 
 Lordship to exercise his own judgment on this extra- 
 ordinary occurrence ; but her conscience would not 
 have acquitted her of disobedience to the heavenly 
 admonition, had she suffered herself to be restrained 
 from making the disclosure by female bashfulness, or 
 the fear of reproach or ridicule. Tlie Bishop listened 
 with the utmost courteousness, and then, with his 
 wonted suavity of manner, not unmixed with a little of 
 that archness which agreeably tinctured his character, 
 he assured her that he gave her full credit for conscien- 
 tious motives. Still, since marriage was a very serious 
 afiair, and the dream she had related might possibly 
 have less in it of inspiration than she imagined, it struck 
 him that the best way of proceeding would be to wait 
 a little, and see whether a similar communication were 
 vouchsafed to him, in whicli case it must indeed be 
 regarded as a divine command, demanding the most 
 dutiful attention *. 
 
 But though he adhered to a single life, it is certain 
 that nature had endowed him with a warm and affec- 
 tionate disposition, which was not extinguished by his 
 superlative love to God, though it was always kept in 
 
 '"'Tliis anecdote, and lliat of llie rol)l)ers, ■were communicated to me by 
 the late excellent and reverend Mr. Legh lliclmiond, who obtained them 
 at Dunblane, and considered them well authenticated.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXXXIX 
 
 due subordination. In his commentary on the epistle 
 of Peter he remarks, that " our only safest way is to 
 gird up our affections wholly ;" and he lived up to this 
 principle. Accordingly, after avowing a strong predi- 
 lection for the amiable character and fine accomplish- 
 ments of a relation, he added, '' nevertheless I can 
 readily wean myself from him, if I cannot persuade him 
 to become wise and good : Sine bonitatc nulla mqjestas, 
 nullus scqwr." To him, as to that Holy One, of whose 
 spirit he largely partook, whoever did the will of his 
 heavenly Father were more than natural kindred. 
 Such, therefore, of his relations as were christians in- 
 deed had a double share of his tenderness ; and to the 
 strength of this two-fold bond, not less than to his 
 heavenly-mindedness, we may ascribe his exclamation 
 on returnino- from the or-rave in which his brother-in-law 
 had been interred : '^ Fain would I have thrown my- 
 self in with him." An extract from a letter which he 
 wrote to that gentleman on the death of a sweet and 
 promising child is exquisitely touching, and discovers 
 the genuine tenderness of his disposition. 
 
 I 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 ! 
 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 trouble 
 of schoohng, and all other sufferings of boys, and the riper 
 and deeper griefs of riper years, this poor life being all along
 
 CXL THE LIFE OF 
 
 nothing but a linked chain of many sorrows and many deaths. 
 Tell my dear sister she is now so 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 
 Ave are undressing to follow. And the more we put off the 
 love of this present world and all things superfluous before- 
 hand, 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, 
 
 R. Lkighton. 
 Edinbro""^ Jan. ICth. 
 
 Leigh ton was a great admirer of rural scenery ; and, 
 in his rides upon, the Sussex downs,, he often descanted, 
 with sublime fervour, on the marvellous works of the 
 almighty architect. Adverting to the boundless varie- 
 ties of creation, he remarked, that there is no won- 
 der after a straw, omnipotence being as necessary to 
 make the least thiugs out of nothing as the greatest. 
 But his lofty mind seemed especially to delight in soar- 
 ing 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 to render us, 
 if we use them not to light us up to lieaven." "It 
 was a Ions: hand," he would exclaim, " and a strono- 
 hand too, that stretched out this stately canopy above 
 us ; and to him whose work it is, we may rightly ascribe 
 most excellent majesty." After some such expressions 
 of devout astonishment, he would sink into silent and 
 adoring contemplation. 
 
 To music, both vocal and instrumental, lie was
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXLl 
 
 very partial, and delig-hted in its appropriation to 
 divine uses ; but lie disapproved of its being* made 
 subservient to a refined sensuality ; and he affirmed 
 that even the croakinof of frog's was less ofrating" to his 
 ear than the idle songs which professed christians sing" 
 and play without blushing or compunction. He con- 
 trasted the harp and psaltery 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 of voluptuous libertines, 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 unearthly. 
 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, therefore, 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 disguise his own wish to be speedily un-
 
 CXLU THE LIFE OF 
 
 clothed, instead of lingering below till his garments 
 were worn out and dropped ofl" through age. In ge- 
 neral, his temper was serene rather than gay ; but his 
 nephew states, that if ever it arose to an unusual pitch 
 of vivacity, it was when some illness attacked him ; — 
 when, '' fiom 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 
 awaiting the summons to depart, and feeding his soul 
 with the prospect of immortal life and glory. Some- 
 times, while contemplating his future restingplace, he 
 would break out into that noble apostrophe of pious 
 George Herbert : 
 
 O let me roost and nestle there ; 
 Then of a sinner tho\i art rid, 
 And I of hope and fear. 
 
 Hearing once of the death of a portly man, — "How 
 is it," he exclaimed, ''that 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 bed- 
 time, 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, who were giving 
 signs of weariness, and asking to be undressed ; 
 '' Shall 1," said lie, " who am threescore and ten, be 
 loth to go to bed?" This world he considered a state 
 of nonage, and the land of mature men a land very 
 far off. No apophthegm of uninspired wisdom pleased
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXLlll 
 
 him more than that of Seneca : " Ilia dies, qiuun ut 
 supremam mctuisses, wtcrnitatis 7iatalis est." His eager- 
 ness 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 hfe." 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 
 excessive desire for the moment to arrive, when his 
 soulj completely fledged, should soar into its proper 
 element ; should remove far away^ not only from the 
 wickednesses of a profane world, but also from the child- 
 ishnesses- of religious christians; and should be at rest 
 amidst the truly reformed churches of just men made 
 perfect, — those happy circumferences, as he termed 
 them, which are intimately and perfectly united to 
 their solatious 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 ovu' clearest thoughts are : 
 but, I think again what other can we do, till the day break and 
 the shadows flee away, as one that lieth awake in the night 
 must be thinking ; and one thought that will likely oftenest 
 return, when by all other thoughts he finds little rehef, is, when 
 will it be day ?
 
 CXLIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 Yet Leighton, for the comfort of weak believers be 
 it recorclecl_, did not pretend to an absolute assurance 
 of final salvation. Conversing', 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 ex- 
 claiming", " Ah, but you have assurance." "^ No, 
 truly," he replied, "only a good hope, and a g-reat 
 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 spirit and affection. 
 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 : — 
 
 Mv Lord, Windsor, July 16, 1CT9. 
 
 I am resolved to try what clemency can prevail upon such 
 in Scotland, as will not conform to tlie government of the 
 church there ; for effecting of which design, I desire tliat you 
 may go clown to Scotland with j-our first conveniency; and 
 take all possible pains for persuading all you can of both opi- 
 nions to as much mutual correspondence 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 
 
 * Rev. iii. 12.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXLV 
 
 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 Mon- 
 mouth, who then administered the affairs of Scotland, 
 and who was anxious for Leighton to go back and re- 
 side in that country, although he should not consent to 
 resume his episcopal office. Leighton was willing to 
 take this step, if any likelihood could be shown of 
 benefit resulting from it ; but the Duke's credit failing- 
 shortly afterwards, this project seems to have fallen 
 with 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 benefit of the Bishop's 
 counsel. The hope of reclaiming that unhappy 
 nobleman 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 pleni- 
 tude of his self-denying benevolence, "the more I 
 choose to go, that I may give one pull to yon poor 
 brother, and snatch him, if possible, from the infec- 
 tious air of the court." Burnet had not seen him 
 for a considerable time, and was astonished at the 
 freshness and vigour which he exhibited at his 
 
 Vol. I. k
 
 CXLVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 advanced age. His hair was still black, and his 
 motions were lively ; and his devotion shone forth 
 with the same lustre and vivacity as ever. Yet_, 
 on his friend expressing- great pleasure at seeing 
 him look so hearty, Leighton observed, that for all 
 that he was very near his end, and liis work and 
 journey both were now almost done. This answer 
 made little impression 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 op- 
 pression on the chest, and with cold and stitches^ 
 which proved to be the commencement 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 neces- 
 sary of the dying moments of a man who had "walked 
 with 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 brideo-room's com- 
 ing ; for his lamp was always trimmed, his loins were
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXLVll 
 
 always g-irded. To his surviving' friends it could 
 have afforded little additional satisfaction to hear 
 him express^ on his death-bed, that faith and holy 
 hope, of which his life had been one unbroken ex- 
 ample : neither could he have left, for the benefit of 
 posterity, any sayings more suitable to a dying believer 
 than those he daily uttered ; living- as he had long 
 lived, on the confines of the eternal world, and in the 
 highest frame of spirituality that it seems possible for 
 an embodied 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 way- 
 farer, 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 weep- 
 ing friends and officious domestics, whose sorrowful 
 attentions misfht unnerve and distract the mind, when 
 it ought to be wholly collected and set upon God ; 
 whereas no such disturbance of spirit would ensue, 
 from the unconcerned 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 diocese in Scotland, his forbearance with his 
 tenants was so great, that at the period of his resig- 
 
 k 2
 
 CXLVIIl THE LIFE OF 
 
 nation considerable sums were due to liim. His sub- 
 sequent income seems to have arisen principally from 
 these arrears^ which dropped in slowly from 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." 
 
 His remains were conveyed to Horsted Keynes, the 
 parish in which he had spent his concluding- years, and 
 were interred in an ancient chancel* of the church, 
 with no other pomp to hallow his obsequies, than the 
 unbought attendance and inexpressive tears of the sur- 
 rounding neighbourhood. On his tombstone is the 
 following' simple epitaph. 
 
 Depositum 
 
 Roberti ± Leightoimvj 
 
 Archiepiscopi Glasguensis 
 
 Apud Scotus 
 
 Qui objt XXV die Junij 
 
 AnnoDmJlC84< 
 
 Totalis suas 74. 
 
 * In tills chancel, which it has lately been found necessary to take 
 down on account of its decayed state, were some veneral)le tombs of the 
 family at Broadhurst, who possessed the handsome old mansion of that 
 name, and tlie patrona2;e 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 l)rother, 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 I'^llis Leigliton, Kiit,, 
 
 Who died 9th January, 1684.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON, CXLIX 
 
 It would be impossible to ban^ more fragrant gar- 
 lands on bis tomb, than arc already woven for it by 
 Bishop Burnet. The first I shall produce, is from his 
 preface to the life of Bishop Bedell. 
 
 " I shall not add mucb of the bishops that have been 
 in that church, [of Scotland,] since the last re-esta- 
 blishment of the order; but that I have observed 
 among- the few of them, to whom I had the honour to 
 be known particularly, 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 imitation, or be made the mea- 
 sure 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 make them to be as easily known, if I 
 enlarged 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 
 
 * The Life of Bishop Bedell was published in the year 1685, and to 
 the passage above cited is subjoined the following note, which confirms, 
 if confirmation be needed, its application to Archbishop Leighton. " The 
 worthy person here meant is dead since this was put in the press ; but 
 both his name and a more particular account of him, as it well deserves 
 a book by itself, so will perhaps be given on another occasion."
 
 CL THE LIFE OF 
 
 lono" and intimate conversation with him, that continued 
 to his death, for twenty-three years, amono- the greatest 
 blessing's of my life ; and for which 1 know I must 
 give account to God, in the great day, in a most par- 
 ticular manner," 
 
 My third and last quotation shall be from his ^' Pas- 
 toral Care," in which, after stating that the matter of 
 it had been the chief subject 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 dis- 
 position, that I ever yet saw in mortal ; that had the 
 greatest parts, as well as virtues, with the perfectest 
 humility that I ever saw in man ; and had a sublime 
 strain in preaching, with so grave a gesture, and such 
 a majesty, both of thought, of language, and of pro- 
 nunciation, 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 temper, 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 that conversation which I had 
 with him, 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 humbled in myself, 
 and before God ; yet I feel no more sensible pleasure
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLl 
 
 in any thing than in going- over in my thoughts all I 
 saw and observed in him." 
 
 Leighton was small of stature, as may be inferred 
 from some letters of Dr. Fall * to a friend, in which 
 he is more than once playfully denominated " the little 
 bishop ;" and 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 seems to denote 
 a character in which the highest moral and intellectual 
 faculties are felicitously blended. Of his manners in 
 private life we have no more exact information than 
 may be deduced from the foregoing narrative : but 
 from this we may confidently pronounce, that in his 
 general character and deportment there was an union 
 of dignity and meekness ; and that in him the sterling 
 integrity of the christian was refined^ without being 
 impaired, by secular accomplishments. Indeed_, reli- 
 
 * Dr. Fall appears first in the family of Craig Hall, (Sir Thomas 
 Hope's,) as governor, it would seem, to a Mr. Hope, whom he accom- 
 panied to the continent. He was afterwards abroad in the same capa- 
 city, with the sons of the Marquis of Queensberry, Lord Treasurer, 
 through whose patronage he was appointed, about the year 1682 or 1683, 
 to be Kings Historiographer, with a salary of 4U/. sterling. On the 29th 
 September, 1684, he was chosen principal of the College of Glasgow, 
 from which situation he was removed, soon after the Revolution, on de- 
 chning to take the oaths. In 1671 he sends his friend Wyhe a transla- 
 tion from the Italian of the account of " The Last Conclave ;" and he is 
 supposed to be the translator of Mascardi's History of Count Fleschi's 
 rebellion, about the year 1670. He was evidently a great admirer of 
 Leighton, wrote a Latin preface to the first addition of the Prselectiones 
 and Paraeneses, and took a lively interest in the publication of the Com- 
 mentary on the first Epistle of Peter.
 
 CLU THE LIFE OF 
 
 gion combining', so largely as it did in Leighton, with 
 a liappy nature improved by travel, by multifarious 
 and elegant learning, and by familiar intercourse with 
 the politest men of the age, could not fail of forming a 
 gentleman of a higher cast than worldly education 
 alone can model. 
 
 It only remains to offer some remarks on the in- 
 tellectual character and atttainments of Archbishop 
 Leighton, on his genius as a writer, and on the style 
 of his compositions. 
 
 With respect to his mental qualities, it may be 
 safely affirmed by the most scrupulous encomiast, that 
 he was gifted with a capacious mind, a quick appre- 
 hension, a retentive memory, a lively fixncy, a correct 
 taste, a sound and discriminating judgment. All these 
 excellencies are conspicuous in almost every page of 
 his writings ; for in Leighton's compositions there is 
 an extraordinary evenness. We are not recruited_, 
 here and there, by a striking thought or a brilliant 
 sentence from the fatigue of toiling through many a 
 heavy 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 of 
 this is, that he is always master of his subject, with a 
 clear conception of his own meaning and purpose, and, 
 a perfect command of all the subsidiary materials; 
 and still more, that his soul is perpetually teeming 
 with those divine inspirations, which seem only occa- 
 sionally vouchsafed to ordinary mortals. 
 
 Had the mind of Leighton been less exact and per-
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLlll 
 
 spicacious, tlie rapid and multitudinous flow of his 
 ideas would have rendered him a writer of more than 
 common obscurity; for he was impatient of those rules 
 of art, by which theological compositions are usually 
 confined. No man, indeed, was better acquainted 
 with scholastic canons and dialectical artifices ; but he 
 towered above them. At the same time his argument 
 never limps, although the form be not syllogistic, — 
 the correctness of his mind preventing any material 
 deviation from a lucid and consecutive order. A 
 logical continuity of thought may be traced in his 
 writings ; and his ideas may, perhaps, be not unaptly 
 compared to flowers in a garden, so luxuriantly over- 
 hanging trellises, as to obviate the primness and for- 
 mality of straight Hnes^ without however straying into 
 a wantonness of confusion that would perplex the 
 observer's eye. 
 
 It is not to be denied^ that a more scientific arrange- 
 ment in Leighton's compositions would have greatly 
 assisted the memory of his readers; and let those^ who 
 come short of him in intellectual power, beware of 
 imitating his laxity of method. The rules of art, though 
 cramps to vigour, are crutches to feebleness. My im- 
 pression is, however, that the effusions of our author's 
 mind^ disposed more artificially, would have lost in rich- 
 ness what they gained in precision, and thus 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 custom, when he had determined to 
 write on any subject, to ruminate on it till his mind 
 had assumed a corresponding form and tone ; after
 
 CLIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 which he poured forth his conceptions on paper without 
 pause or effort, hke the irrepressible droppings of the 
 loaded honeycomb. So imbued was his holy soul with 
 the principles of the gospel, and so completely was 
 the whole scheme of revelation embraced and pervaded 
 by 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 consistency ; nothing indigested and turbid ; 
 no dissonances of thought, no jarring positions ; none 
 of the fluctuations, the ambiguities, the contradictions, 
 which betray a penury of knowledge, or an imperfect 
 assimilation of it with the understanding. Equally 
 master of every part of the evangelical system, he never 
 steps out of his way to avoid what encounters him, or 
 to pick up what is not obvious : he never betakes him- 
 self to the covers of unfairness or ignorance ; but he 
 discusses, 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 boundary 
 Divine wisdom hath assigned to man's inquisitiveness. 
 While the half-learned theologian beats about in the 
 dark, and vainly attempts a passage through metaphy- 
 sical labyrinths which it is the part of sober wisdom 
 not to enter, the sagacious Leighton distincdy sees the 
 line beyond which speculation is folly ; and at that 
 limit he stops with a prom})tness of decision, and reli- 
 gious modesty, very graceful in one who has proceeded 
 up to it with such calm assurance.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLV 
 
 Such a writer as Leighton was incapable of parade. 
 He was too intent upon his subject to be choice of 
 words and phrases ; and his works discover a noble 
 carelessness of diction, which in some respects enhances 
 their beauty. Their strength is not wasted by excessive 
 polishing : their glow is not impaired by reiterated 
 touches. But, though he was little curious in culling 
 words and compounding sentences, his language is 
 generally apt and significant, sufficient for the grandeur 
 of his conceptions without encumbering them. If not 
 always grammatically correct, it is better than mere 
 correctness would make it, more forcible and touch- 
 ing, attracting little notice to itself, but leaving the 
 reader to the full impulse of those ideas of which ft is 
 the vehicle. Leighton is great by the magnificence of 
 thought ; by the spontaneous emanations of a mind 
 replete with sacred knowledge, and bursting with sera- 
 phic affections ; by that pauseless flow of intellectual 
 splendour, in which the outward shell, the intermediate 
 letter, is eclipsed and almost annihilated, that full scope 
 may be given to the mighty effulgence of the informing 
 spirit. 
 
 Dr. Doddridge applies to his eloquence the descrip- 
 tion given by the great epic Poet of the oratory of 
 Ulysses : 
 
 but in this he seems ^o have misconceived the meaning 
 of Homer, who compares the thronging words and 
 forcible elocution of the Grecian hero to a storm of 
 pelting rain and driving sleet, and not to flakes of 
 snow descending in rapid yet gentle succession.
 
 CLVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 The characteristics of his style are a mild sublimity, 
 a sweet and mellow pathos. There is nothing languid 
 and effeminate in his productions : but while an exqui- 
 site flavour is communicated to them by the suavity of 
 his spirit, the strength of his well-informed and mascu- 
 line understanding- makes them abundantly solid and 
 nutritious. His mind is not the pulpy reed distilling- 
 luscious juices ; it is the rock pour big forth rivers 
 of oil. 
 
 Leiofhton never affects a concise sententiousness. 
 He is perfectly free from that trick of antithesis which 
 caught the vicious taste of the day ; or was tolerated 
 under the plea that a sentiment would be more se- 
 curely lodged in the memory, if the sentence which 
 conveyed it were armed with an epigrammatic point. 
 But his copiousness does not consist in a vain pro- 
 digality of words. It is the redundance of a full 
 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 mate- 
 rial into a vast expanse of web, or to hammer out a 
 petty ingot into an immense surface ; but his diffuse- 
 ness, or rather profuseness, results from the afiluence 
 of his knowledge ; from the broad survey of his com- 
 manding intellect ; and from that acuteness, which 
 at once resolves into its elements a complex propo- 
 sition, and tracks a remote consequence through all 
 its gradations to its principle. It may be safely 
 affirmed that there are not many theological writers, 
 in whose volumes arc more of the ^'' seeds of things."
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLVIJ 
 
 Perhaps he may be less eiitilled, than some of his 
 great contemporaries, to the praise of being an original 
 thinker : yet the thoughts of others become so iden- 
 tified in him with whatever it is that constitutes the in- 
 tellectual individuality of a writer^ as to issue from his 
 mind with his own peculiar 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 vigour of the writer 
 being nearly run out. In fact, he is never exhausted^ 
 till he has exhausted the subject ; and this he makes 
 no efforts to accomplish, but checks his flowing mind 
 when enough has been effused^ lest he inundate in- 
 stead of irrio'ating-. 
 
 To his perfect freedom from the vanity of authorship 
 it may partly be ascribed that, with all his knowledge 
 and fertility of invention, Leighton is never betrayed 
 into wearisome and subtile details. There is in him no 
 puerile ambition of dissecting a principle into its mi- 
 nutest ramifications, when such elaborate precision 
 would serve no higher end than to display the skill of 
 the artist. He lays down the fundamentals of christian 
 faith and practice, with just enough of individual appli- 
 cation 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 observation 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
 
 CLVlll THE LIFE OF 
 
 constantly 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 judg- 
 ment of his maturer years, to the tenets of the French 
 reformer, divested however of their rigour. To say 
 that he coincided, for the most part, with Calvin in the 
 interpretation of scripture would be correct ; but it 
 would be most incorrect to denominate him a Calvinist, 
 if that appellation imply an assent to a particular 
 scheme of theology, on the authority of that famous 
 divine. Leighton, though the humblest of mankind_, 
 was not weakly distrustful of his OAvn powers ; and 
 therefore we never find him slavishly treading in the 
 footsteps of predecessors. Yet, though free and inde- 
 pendent, he is not audacious and dogmatical. His 
 manner of handling the profound mystery of predes- 
 tination reads an excellent lesson to those precipitate 
 sciolists, who make an unqualified affirmation of that 
 mystery, in the high Calvinistic sense, to be the test 
 of orthodoxy, and, one might almost add, the passport 
 to salvation ; — who contrive to interweave it with 
 every sermon and treatise ; — and who, instead of build- 
 ing on it sublime ideas of the majesty and goodness of 
 God, and deducing from it powerful motives to hu- 
 mility 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 impar- 
 tial governor of mankind. 
 
 It is one of our author's excellencies, that he assigns 
 to the several parts of the system of Redemption their
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLIX 
 
 relative rank and importance. In unfolding the dig- 
 nity of Christ, the glory of his person^ and the satis- 
 factory virtue of his death, no one can exceed him in 
 scriptural orthodoxy and devotional feeling. Yet with 
 him the atonement is not of such engrossing magni- 
 tude, as to overshadow the chief ends for which a 
 piacular sacrifice was appointed ; but its incalculable 
 value in respect to mankind, is shewn 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 ex- 
 hibited by Leighton ; and its ultimate gloiy is shewn 
 to result from the renovation of sinners to righteous- 
 ness, of which the death of Jesus Christ is in its 
 meritorious consequence effective, by appeasing the 
 judicial resentment of heaven, and removing the in- 
 terdict which had restrained the effusions of the sancti- 
 fying Spirit. 
 
 The points, indeed_, on which his soul was constantly 
 fixed, whence accrues such a heavenly 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 stupen- 
 dous concerns of eternity ; and the blessedness resulting 
 from close communion with the Father of spirits, and 
 from conformity to the pattern which Jesus Christ 
 bequeathed to his followers of consummate purity and 
 virtue. When Leio-hton addresses himself to these 
 matters, he does indeed utter his voice from high
 
 CLX THE LIFE OF 
 
 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 
 earthy with a vast advantage for estimating justly 
 the value of the one and of the other. He seems 
 to have lately come down from conversing with God 
 upon the mount, anointed and preeminently qualified 
 to represent the high priest of the christian temple ; to 
 draw aside the outward veil, and to disclose the glori- 
 ous spirit of religion in its innermost sanctuary. 
 
 It is impossible to dip into his writings, without ob- 
 serving with how brilliant a fancy he was endowed. 
 They sparkle with beautiful 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 his holy 
 skill sacred learning is made to purify profane, and 
 profane learning to elucidate 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 fields 
 of classic lore, imparting to their produce celestial 
 fragrancy and virtue. 
 
 Among the just commendations of this great and 
 good man's writings, we must not omit their extraor- 
 dinary decency, which may be confidently ascribed to a
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXl 
 
 singular purity of mind, since it is foreign to tlie school 
 in which he was 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 baser passions and 
 appetites of our nature, he spreads over their unseem- 
 liness such a veil of chastity, that nothing appears to 
 incur a frown from the austerest gravity, or to put the 
 most susceptible modesty to the blush. 
 
 Archbishop Leighton will hardly rank in the fore- 
 most line of philologists and theological critics. Yet, 
 in general, he is a safe guide in the exposition of par- 
 ticular 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 ety- 
 mological 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 
 gathered many beautiful thoughts, which are interspersed 
 in his own lucubrations ; the whole of which have a 
 strong savour of primitive spirituality. But that which 
 adds so peculiar a zest to his compositions, is the qua- 
 lity usually denominated Unction. His mouth spake 
 out of the abundance of his heart. Instead of a dry 
 didactic statement, which, how faultless soever in doc- 
 trine and form, will seldom beget sympathy, we have 
 
 Vol. I. 1
 
 CLXll THE LIFE OP 
 
 in him the libv^tion upon the sacrifice, — the holy affec- 
 tions of his soul poured out on the solid products of his 
 understanding-, and imparting to them a delicious odour 
 and irresistible penetrancy. In every page of his books 
 there is an impassioned earnestness, a soul-subduing 
 pathos, which make it impossible to doubt, that the sen- 
 timents he strives to communicate were thoroughly 
 wrought into his own 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 mortal. 
 
 Some allusion has been dropped in this memoir 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 comparing 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 plea- 
 santries ; no wild interpretations of scripture and bom- 
 bastic rhapsodies; no desultory and pedantic excur- 
 sions. He scorned to set off his matter, or scrupled 
 to profane it, with tawdry ornaments and garish colours.
 
 ARCHRISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXIll 
 
 His phraseolog-y^ at once sedate and noble, well be- 
 comes the ambassador of heaven ; and denotes a pro- 
 found veneration for the oracles of God, a pious dread 
 of distorting- their sense, and of g"iving- a human figure 
 and colour to any portion of revelation, and an ardent 
 desire to convert thoug-htless sinners, and to edify 
 serious believers. Such were his matter and diction, 
 with which his manner in the pulpit corresponded. 
 Superior to popular applause, he had no peculiarities 
 about his delivery ; unless indeed simplicity, earnest- 
 ness, and gravity, were at that time uncommon quali- 
 ties. He never aimed at effect by oratorical grimace, 
 nor strove, as was the general practice, to carry his 
 hearers by a tempest of voice and gesture : and, indeed, 
 the natural feebleness of his voice would have inter- 
 dicted such exertions, had his taste permitted them. 
 But, when he preached, the manner was in admirable 
 harmony with the message ; and so well did the ma- 
 jesty and beauty of his enunciation accord with the 
 solemn truths of which he was the herald, that the 
 congregations he addressed were subdued and en- 
 chained, as by the magic of an unearthly eloquence. 
 
 The work, which is the crown of his posthumous 
 glory in the church, is the Commentary on the first 
 epistle of St. Peter. It is a treasury of sound experi- 
 mental divinity, and argues an extraordinary ripeness 
 of christian attainments. It was probably delivered 
 from the pulpit, and is drawn out in the familiar form 
 of exposition ; the clauses, and even the emphatic 
 words of each text being mostly explained in course, 
 
 1 2
 
 CLXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 and no artificial arrangement observed in discussing 
 the several subjects introduced by the apostle. Still, 
 the g-eneral 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 
 haiirire est, et pocula sacra. 
 
 Next in worth to this commentary are his exposi- 
 tions 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 
 frao'ment of a commentarv, not lono- broug-ht to lio-ht, 
 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 it 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 auditoiies, 
 and wherein he contracts the natural size of his intellect 
 to the puny proportions of babes. His Meditations, 
 Critical and Practical, on Psalms iv., xxxii.^ and cxxx., 
 translated from the original Latin, under the inspection 
 of Dr. Doddridge ; and his Expository Lectures on 
 Psalm xxxix., and on one or two other portions of 
 Scripture, have the flavour of the parent soil, but de- 
 mand no particular comment. They aie sketches only, 
 but, like the line of the painter, they betray a master-
 
 AllCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXV 
 
 liaiid. The Meditations^ which were spoken in Latin 
 to the Edinburgh collegians, are felicitous essays, glis- 
 tening 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 neces- 
 sary. It is impossible to read them without conceiving 
 a great opinion of the sanctity of the mind from which 
 they issued. They are the rules by which Leighton's 
 own life was fashioned, and do not, I believe, delineate 
 a perfection much exceeding his actual attainments. 
 Yet they need to be read with caution, being somewhat 
 tinged with mysticism, — a disease almost peculiar to 
 those who inhabit the highest regions, and breathe the 
 purest atmosphere 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 ; — abstraction s_, which go beyond what the 
 method of Christ and his apostles authorizes, or what 
 is compatible with the constitution of our nature, and 
 the frame of society resulting from that constitution. 
 It is one incomparable excellence of the 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 drinking, in the form 
 and with the affections of our nature ; it mingles its 
 pure and peaceful and benignant influences with all 
 the various commerce of life ; and it converts man to
 
 CLXVl THE LIFE OF 
 
 holiness^ without displacing- him from his proper 
 sphere, or disturbing- any of those relations which arise 
 out of his civil and domestic condition, Leighton has 
 not in these particulars followed so closely, as might 
 have been wished, in the track of the great Author of 
 Christianity. Perhaps it is the exclusive 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 
 deranging the order and economy of the present 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 
 reserve of scripture ; and, by too minute and peremp- 
 tory an application of principles, which the blessed 
 Jesus, with exemplary tenderness and prudence, left it 
 to each individual to apply, they sometimes bring a 
 snare upon the conscience, relax altogether the tottering- 
 knees, and lead ardent or melancholy spirits into dan- 
 gerous subtleties. I must own myself suspicious of the 
 consequences of enhancing upon Scripture, and of 
 constructing- a model, which, at first sig-ht, strikes the 
 eye, as being- something' more lofty and spiritual than 
 is set forth in the sacred records. The aim at gratuitous 
 refinements in spirituality requires the control of a very 
 sober judgment and a deep humility, to prevent its 
 being injurious to sound religious practice ; for there is 
 danger of the substance of christian piety flying off 
 under too intense a process of sublimation. When 
 men, instead of diligently forming themselves to that 
 plain and palpable goodness, which it is the drift of the
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXVll 
 
 gospel to inculcate, aspire to something superhuman 
 and angelical, there is danger of their resting satisfied 
 with the attempt, though it be unprosperous. Con- 
 science will not so sternly reproach them for failing in 
 extraordinary efforts which few have the courage to 
 make, as it would if they came short of the ordinary pro- 
 ficiency of christians ; and possibly^ in striving to sustain 
 themselves in regions too rare for human piety, and in 
 chasing a chimerical perfection, they may waste that 
 energy which, had it been more humbly directed, would 
 have made them approved of God and useful to mankind. 
 When christians attain, indeed, to this height of holiness, 
 they become transcendent luminaries, peerless stars of 
 the morning, who invigorate and gladden 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 standard by which he 
 measured others. A mature and intelligent christian 
 may at any time read it with advantage ; and to those 
 who are satisfied with a religion of form and ceremony 
 it may also be serviceable, by acquainting them with 
 the tremendous secret, that they are strangers to the 
 reality and power of godliness. But it would be unwise 
 and unsafe to place it in the hands of novices, sincere 
 but feeble converts, lest they should be utterly dis- 
 
 * It ought perhaps to be mentioned that the genuineness of this 
 Directory has been suspected : but I would venture to suggest that a 
 work so redolent of Leighton's spirit can hardly have another extraction.
 
 CLXviii THE LIFE OF 
 
 heartened, and their pious aspirations 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 
 recognize 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 God. 
 Of both it must be confessed — as Pope Innocent 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, 
 exces.su ctmoris Dei, It was the vehemence of their 
 piety which hurried away their judgment; and the 
 uncommon mistake of stating christian perfection too 
 high is beyond all comparison less momentous, than 
 the usual error of sinking it below the scriptural 
 standard. 
 
 In the Latin Prelections, which have been translated 
 by Dr. Fall, the principal doctrines of the christian faith 
 are developed by our author with exquisite learning, 
 judgment, and piety. These lectures constitute an 
 invaluable series of theological instructions; and were 
 delivered perhaps nearly 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 ex- 
 istence, the nature, the government of God, which he 
 does with equal energy and sobriety ; demonstrating 
 the title such a being possesses to the affectionate
 
 ARCHBISHOP I.EIGHTON. CLXIX 
 
 [illegiaiice of his rational creatures, whose felicity must 
 depend on their maintaining- that place in the moral 
 system of the universe, wherein the infallible wisdom 
 of the Creator hath fixed them. He then represents 
 the extensive ruin that ensued from the defection of 
 Adam, and goes on to the reparation, achieved by 
 Messiah, of the injury done to God by the primal sin, 
 and of the destruction it brought upon mankind. The 
 nature of christian salvation is further developed, as 
 consisting in the production of vital and immortal 
 principles in the soul by the mysterious energy of the 
 Holy Spirit ; which process constitutes the true adop- 
 tion of sinners through the Saviour, and is their 
 tem.poral initiation to the enjoyment of life eternal. 
 Moreover he expatiates with great beauty and em- 
 phasis, 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 ardour in 
 prosecuting that divine science which lays open the 
 road to imperishable glories. 
 
 The style of these lectures justifies Burnet's com- 
 mendation of our Author's latinity. Not formed upon 
 any single pattern, but pure, simple, and flowing, his 
 diction indicates a large and critical acquaintance with 
 the best models. It is the phraseology of a man who 
 thought in Latin, and not of one who clothed in a 
 foreign dress ideas which were preconceived in his native 
 tongue. Hence these dissertations are not mere jingle and 
 glitter, but are solid and argumentative. Useless words 
 and phrases are never introduced to embellish a period ; 
 nor does an apt thought ever seem to be abandoned
 
 CLXX THE LIFE OF 
 
 too soon or imperfectly evolved, because the writer 
 was unable to embody it in a strange language. He 
 moves in a Roman mantle with as little embarrassment 
 as in a native garb. In these Lectures, moreover, 
 which were addressed to literary students, Leighton 
 permits himself to quote largely from heathen authors ; 
 and one is struck with astonishment at the extent of his 
 erudition, which is not ostentatiously displayed, but 
 comes in most appropriately wherever it can avail to 
 throw light upon the subjects he is discussing. The 
 whole volume of profane literature seems to be unrolled 
 before him, and is not too expanded for his ample sur- 
 vey. The philosophers, the poets, the historians of 
 Rome and Athens ; all the sons of science, whether 
 Jews or Gentiles, ancient or modern ; all are cited 
 to pay the various homage enjoined by reason or 
 primaeval tradition, to the being, the perfections, the 
 natural and moral government of God ; and to confirm 
 the need of a revelation, which should capacitate 
 mankind to recover under a new grant and title, 
 the honours, possessions, and immunities forfeited by 
 disobedience. 
 
 The Paraeneses were short exhortations to the 
 scholars about to graduate, and were composed in 
 Latin. In them it is the speaker's great endeavour 
 to guard his auditors against an undue estimation 
 of human learning and literary honours, and to put 
 them on striving 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 with a beautiful and appropriate
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXl 
 
 prayer ; and they, as well as the lectures, breathe an 
 affectionate desire to turn the hearts of the colleaians 
 from that vain knowledge which increaseth sorrow, to 
 that true and heavenly wisdom by which all who pos- 
 sess it are exalted to honour. Notwithstanding the 
 -multitude of mistakes by which the author's sense was 
 disfig-ured and disguised in the former editions of these 
 lectures, no divine ever rose from the perusal of them 
 without feeling himself richly repaid ; and now that by 
 the learning and diligence of Professor Scholefield, of 
 Cambridge, they are nearly restored to their primitive 
 beauty, it may be hoped that they will find the place 
 they merit in our schools of divinity. In none of his 
 compositions does this holy Bishop rise more success- 
 fully to the height of his sublime argument, or more 
 feelingly exhibit divine philosophy, as a 
 
 " Feast of nectar'd sweets." 
 
 The fifth, of which the subject is the immortality of 
 the soul, is a fine specimen of christian illumination, 
 consummating the twilight philosophy, and sanctifying' 
 the eloquent style of Tully or Seneca. In the sixth, 
 which treats of the life to come, the wretchedness of 
 mortality is forcibly contrasted with the blessedness 
 of heaven ; and the reader is attracted by a charm 
 of singular potency from a world in which every 
 thing is transient but sorrow, to a world of which 
 the felicity and grandeur are immutable as their 
 eternal parent, "the same yesterday, to-da^, and for 
 ever." 
 
 It has been observed to me by a learned friend.
 
 CLXXU THE LIFE OF 
 
 whose classical taste, erudition, and piety, well qualify 
 him for appreciating- a mind gifted and stored like 
 Leighton's, that the phrase in this sixth lecture " huic 
 gurgustiolo inclusi/' may have been suggested by the 
 following line in the opening of Comus_, then lately 
 published : 
 
 " Confined and pester'd in this pinfold here." 
 
 And the beautiful sentiment of the lines just preced- 
 ing, is recognized by the same critical sagacity in a 
 sentence of the second Paraenesis. Milton writes ; 
 
 ■ ■ " insphered 
 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air, 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot 
 Which men call earth." 
 
 And Leighton exhorts us, " In purioris multo ac pa- 
 catioris veritatis luce, longe supra turbidam illam et 
 nebulosam polemicorum regionem versari." In this 
 conjecture of my learned friend, which accredits and 
 is accredited by the character of Leighton for elegant 
 reading, I cordially agree ; nor can I do better than 
 to adopt his felicitous and expressive language in styl- 
 ing those Paraeneses, '^^ Specimens of pathetic piety, 
 uttered in classic elegance, and exhibiting the apostle 
 of Christ in the garb and office of academic lec- 
 turer." 
 
 Dr. Fall, and not Bishop Burnet, as has been erro- 
 neously asserted, was the original editor of Leighton's 
 works. The first of them which saw the light, was 
 a volume of eighteen sermons, printed in London,
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXlll 
 
 1692, expressly stated to be copied " from his papers 
 written with his own hand." It is accompanied 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 discourses by the same pen. His composures 
 in Latin (which appear to have been written and de- 
 livered, 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 it." Accordingly, in 1693, his Praelectiones 
 Theologicae 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. L, 4to., York, 1693. In an advertisement pre- 
 fixed to this volume. Dr. Fall alludes to the favourable 
 reception of his former works. The second volume 
 of this Commentary was published, 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 
 discourses on the Epistles to the Ephesians, came out, 
 London, 1701, 8vo., together with his two discourses, 
 one on St. Matthew xxii. 37, 38, 39 ; the other on 
 Heb. viii. 10 ; to which was annexed a short Catechism.
 
 CLXXIV THE LIFE OF 
 
 There was also published a volume of " Tracts," 12mo., 
 London, 1708 ; which comprised the Rules for a Holy 
 Life, one Sermon, and the Catechism. The later 
 editions of his works are sufficiently known. 
 
 It may gratify some readers to have the Will of 
 Archbishop Leighton, and a few particulars of the dis- 
 position of his property subjoined, along with the most 
 probable account of his ecclesiastical income. The fol- 
 lowing is the Will : — 
 
 At Broadhurst, Feb. 17, 1083. 
 Being at present (thanks be to God) in my accustomed 
 health of body and soundness of mind and memory, I do write 
 this Avith my own hand, to signify, that when the day I so 
 much wish and long for is come, that shall set me free of 
 this prison of clay wherein I am lodged, what I leave behind 
 me of money, goods, or chattels, or whatsoever of any kind 
 was called mine, I do devote to charitable uses ; partly, such 
 as I have recommended particularly, to my sister IVIrs. Sapphira 
 Lightmaker and her son Master Edward Lightmaker, of 
 Broadhurst, and the remainder 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 with me for 
 some years lliat I was their guest, the proportion whereof (to 
 remove their scruple of taking it) I did expressly name to 
 themselves, Avhile I was with them, before the writing hereof, 
 and likewise after I have wrote it. But they need not give 
 any account of it to any other, the whole 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 Cathe- 
 dral of Dunblane in Scotland, to remain there for the use of
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXV 
 
 the clergy of that Diocese. 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. 1 hope 
 none will raise any question or doubt about this upon any 
 omission or informality of expression in It ; being for preven- 
 tion 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 frugal almost to parsi- 
 mony, but from this frugality no accumulation resulted. 
 One great object of his self-denial was to provide 
 funds for the dissemination of sound religious learning. 
 Accordingly, when Principal of the University of Edin- 
 burgh, he presented that city with 150/. sterling for the 
 support of a bursary or scholarship in philosophy. 
 Glasgow also is indebted to this venerable man for two 
 bursaries, which are destined to assist in the mainte- 
 nance of two students for the space of six years ; the 
 four first to be spent in philosophical pursuits, and the 
 two last in the study of divinity: and should the 
 student not be otherwise provided for, or wish to con- 
 tinue his theological studies, the magistrates and coun- 
 cil are authorised to prolong his tenure of the student- 
 ship, for two or three additional years. In the election 
 of scholars, the trustees are not limited to any particu- 
 lar description of persons ; but they are required to 
 present two candidates, when a bursary has become
 
 CLXXVJ THE LIFE OF 
 
 vacant, for a trial of their comparative merits ; and tlie 
 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 
 indigent students, 150/. were devised to the hospital 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/. lO^. annually for 
 each pensioner. 
 
 To the diocese of Dunblane, which was ill provided 
 with books, he bequeathed his valuable 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 after- 
 wards paid, and appropriated agreeably to the inten- 
 tions 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 rental was taken at 
 313/. per annum in money, besides a stated allowance 
 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
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXVll 
 
 James the Sixth in 1617 to the see of DunWane, It 
 was this Prince who augmented it with tlie deanery 
 of the Chapel Royal, which was considerably lucra- 
 tive ; 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 suffi- 
 ciently 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 indul- 
 gence, with which he always listened to defaulters, 
 who pleaded poverty in excuse for not making good 
 their payments. 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 APPENDIX.
 
 TWO LETTERS, 
 
 COMMONLY Rlil'UTED 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 in conjunction with 
 presbyters in presbyteries and synods, is not contrary either to 
 the rule of scripture, or the example of the primitive church, 
 but most agreeable to both. 
 
 2. Yea, it is not contrary to that very covenant, which is 
 pretended by so many as the main, if not the only reason of 
 their scrupling ; 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 M^ays 
 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 be true, to declare the consistence of the even present go- 
 vernment with that obligation. And as both these assertions, 
 I believe upon the exactest (if impartial 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 jwoijosals humbly presented to his 
 Majesty by the Reverend Ministers of the Presbyterian per- 
 suasion. Printed at London, Anno 1660. 
 
 Besides other passages in these papers to the same purpose,
 
 CLXXXU TWO LETTERS BY 
 
 at page 1 L 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 sy nodical government, conjunct with a fixed presi- 
 dency ; 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 go- 
 vernment, is likeliest to be the way of a more universal con- 
 cord, if ever the churches on earth arrive to such a blessing : 
 however, it will be most acceptable to God, and well-informed 
 consciences. 
 
 3. " It will promote the practice of discipline and godhness 
 without disorder, and promote order without hindering disci- 
 pline and godliness. 
 
 4. " And it is not to be silenced (though in some respect we 
 are loth to mention it) that it will 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,, that the prelacy disclaimed in that cove- 
 nant, Avas the engrossing of the sole power of ordination and 
 jurisdiction, and exercising of the whole discipline absolutely 
 by bishops themselves and their delegates, chancellors, surro- 
 gates, and officials, &c. excluding wholly the pastors of parti- 
 cular churches from all share in it. And there is one of 
 prime note amongst them, Avho, in a large treatise of church- 
 government, doth clearly evince, that this was tlie mind both 
 of the parliament of England, and of the assembly of divines 
 at Westminster, as they themselves did expressly declare it, in 
 the admitting of the covenant, " that they understand it not to 
 be against all episcopacy, but only a;j,ainst the particular frame, 
 as it is worded in the article itself: for our princi})al model in 
 England, and the way of managing of it, whatsoever 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 u[)on mistake, the brethren that are
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXXlll 
 
 dissatisfied had possibly better acquitted their duty by free 
 admonitions 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 
 human appearance near to incurable : but there is much cha- 
 rity due to them, as following the dictate of their own con- 
 science : 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 all, 
 neither in the doctrine nor worship, no nor in the substance of 
 the discipline itself : but when it falls on matters easily inflam- 
 mable, how little a spark, how great a fire will it kindle ? 
 
 Because every one hath not the book, 1 have transcribed 
 here Mr. Baxter's own words. Bax. of Church Government, 
 P. III. c. i. p. 276. 
 
 " An Episcopacy desirable for the reformation and peace of 
 the churches. A fixed president durante vita, pp. 297, 330. 
 But some will say, we are engaged against all prelacy by cove- 
 nant, and therefore cannot yield to so much as you do without 
 perjury. Ans. That this is utterly untrue, I thus demon- 
 strate. 
 
 1. "When that covenant was presented to the assembly 
 with the bare name of prelacy joined to poper>'^, many grave 
 and reverend divines desired that the word prelacy might be 
 explained, because it was not all episcopacy they were against ; 
 and thereupon the following concatenation in the parenthesis 
 was given by way of explication in these words : That is 
 church-government by archbishops, bishops, their chancellors 
 and commissaries, deans, and chapters, archdeans, and all the 
 other ecclesiastical officers depending on that hierarchy. By 
 which it appears, that it vvas only the English hierarchy or
 
 CLXXXIV TWO LETTERS BY 
 
 frame that was covenanted against, and that which was then 
 existent tliat 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 epis- 
 copacy, 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 coidd not be all episcopacy that was excluded, 
 because a parochial episcopacy 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 that 
 they had moderators in all their synods, which were temporary 
 bishops. 
 
 5. " Also the chief divines of the late assembly at West- 
 minster, that recommended that covenant to the nations, have 
 professed their own judgments for such a moderate episcopacy 
 as I am here defending, and therefore 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 
 Me be against any profitable exercise of the ministry, or desir- 
 able order amongst them for fear of introducing prelacy." 
 Thus far Baxter's own words. 
 
 There is another that hath writ a treatise on purpose, and 
 that zealous and strict enough, touching 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 e])isco- 
 pacy, yet upon stricter incpiiry, it was evident to the author.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXXV 
 
 that that very scruple was made by some members in parlia- 
 ment, and resolved (with the consent of their brethren in 
 Scotland) that the covenant was only intended against prelacy 
 as then it Avas in being in England, leaving a latitude for epis- 
 copacy, ^c." 
 
 It would be noted, that when that covenant 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 discipline under that name, neither 
 any other, as chancellor or surrogate, &c., by delegation from 
 bishops, with a total exclusion of the community of presbyters 
 from all power and share in it, which is the great point of dif- 
 ference 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 Scotland, 
 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 archbishops ; never considering how dif- 
 ferent the nature, and model, and way of exercising it may be, 
 though under the same names, and that the due regulating of 
 the 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 
 consider 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 composers or 
 imposers of it, or a considerable part of them, did so under- 
 stand and intend it. And unless they make it appear, that the 
 episcopacy now in question with us in Scotland is either con- 
 trary to the word, or to that mitigated sense of their own oath, 
 it would seem more suitable to christian charity and modera-
 
 CLXXXVl TWO LETTERS BY 
 
 tion, 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 renunciation 
 and abolition of all episcopacy ; and seeing that Avas the real 
 event and consequent of it, and they having many other 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 oaths and covenants lies 
 much in this, that being commonly framed by persons that, 
 even amongst 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 briars 
 and thorns to the consciences of those that are engaged in them, 
 and matter of endless contentions and disputes amongst them 
 about the true sense and intendment, and the tie and oblige- 
 ments of those doubtful clauses, especially in some such altera- 
 tions and revolutions of affairs as always may, and often do, even 
 v^'ithin few years, follow after them ; for the models and pro- 
 ductions 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 
 o))inion 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 framed such an engine, but 
 violently imposed it upon all ranks of men, not ministers and
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXXVll 
 
 Other public persons only, but the whole body and community 
 of the people, thereby engaging such droves of poor ignorant 
 persons to they know not what, and, to speak freely, to such 
 a hodge-podge of various concernments, religious and civil, as 
 church discipline and government, the privileges of parliament 
 and liberties of subjects, and condign 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 certainly as far off from the reach of poor country 
 people's understanding, as from the true interest 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 know^- 
 ing them, can there be instanced a greater oppression and 
 tyranny over consciences than this ? Certainly they that now 
 govern in this church cannot be charged with any thing near 
 or like unto it ; for whatsoever they require of intrants to the 
 ministry, they require neither subscriptions nor oaths of minis- 
 ters already entered, and far less of the whole body of the 
 people 3 and it were ingenuously done to take some notice of 
 any point of moderation, or whatsoever else is really com- 
 mendable even in those we account our greatest enemies, and 
 not to take any part in the world for the absolute standard and 
 unfailing rule of truth and righteousness in all things. 
 
 But oh, who would not long for the shadows 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 pas- 
 sages cited in this paper, and of adding these few thoughts that 
 then occurred touching 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 exercised ; 
 bvU what is here said is only argumentum ad hominem, and 
 particularly adapted to the persons, and notions, and scruples 
 we have to do withal in this church. And though this is 
 designed to come to very few hands, yet I wish that what is
 
 CLXXXVlll TWO LETTERS BY 
 
 here represented \verc by some better way broiiglit to the notice 
 of such as know least of it and need it most, that, if it be pos- 
 sible, their extreme fervour 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 neighbour king- 
 dom accounted a thing, 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 expedient and useful for the good of the church 
 itself, that they did use in many 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 advance it, and not at all against the 
 truth, but always for it, and while they do so, the atheism and 
 profaneness that abounds cannot 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. Eior^vri (plXr), tioriM-n (plXri, 
 oTiors. rtfj^as KxriXntis, as Nazianzen pathetically begins one of 
 his orations for peace. I confess I have sometime 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 a 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, 
 Parcm te poscimus omnes : and if we be real supplicants for it, 
 we would beware of being the disappointers of our own desires.
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CLXXXIX 
 
 and of obstructing the blessing we pray for, and therefore 
 would mainly study a temper receptive of it, and that is, great 
 meekness and charity ; and certainly whatsoever party or ojn- 
 nion we follow in this matter, the badge by Mhicli we must be 
 known to the followers of Jesus Christ is this, that we love one 
 another, and that law unquestionably is of divine right, and 
 therefore would not be broken by bitter passion and revilings, 
 and rooted 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 of 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 11. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 The question betwixt us, is not concerning bishops go- 
 verning absolutely by themselves and their delegates, but 
 concerning 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 Scripture, but there ought to
 
 CXC TWO LETTERS BY 
 
 be an express command or rule in Scripture to warrant it, they 
 will sure be so just, as to be subject to the same law them- 
 selves. Let them then produce such an express command or 
 rule for their own model of kirk-sessions, presbyteries, synods 
 provincial and national, and a commission of the kirk in their 
 several dependencies and subordinations for the ordinary and 
 constant government and exercise of discipline in the church, 
 and the necessarv chanmno; of the moderators in these meet- 
 ings, excepting only that of the kirk-session, wherein the 
 minister is constantly to moderate ; for without such an ex- 
 press rule as this, a bishop or fixed president may very well 
 consist with that whole frame they contend 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 neces- 
 sary government of the christian church, whereas the assertors 
 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 lo contest about names, especially 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 ended ; for we trust we shall be found not at 
 all desirous to usurp or affect any undue power, but rather to 
 abate of that power which is reasonable, and conform even to 
 primitive episcopacy, than that a schism should continue in 
 this church upon that score. But be 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 withdraw from those meetings of the ciiurch, 
 which themselves approve of, for the exercise of discipline, yea 
 and (as many of them have done) to separate from the public 
 worship, and whole tonnnunlon of the church, because of some
 
 ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. CXCl 
 
 degree of wrong done them (as they think in that point of 
 power*) , or whether they had not sufficiently acquitted them- 
 selves, and discharged their consciences by free declaring of 
 their opinion concerning that matter, and modestly desiring 
 the redress 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 them to do so ; 
 otherwise, if we think ourselves obliged for every thing 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 in any church under the sun. 
 
 But there is one thing in this business of ours that sticks 
 after all the rest — the covenant. As to that, waiving all the 
 irregularities 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 episcopacy in this 
 church is that same that was abjured in that covenant ; yet the 
 article relating thereto obliges each one only to this, to endea- 
 vour within their calling and station, if such an episcopacy 
 shall be introduced and continued against their will. But the 
 truth is, if men would have the patience to inquire into it, and 
 consider the thing without prejudice and partiality, this our 
 episcopacy will be found not to be the same with that abj ured 
 in that covenant : for that is the government of bishops and 
 archbishops absolutely by themselves and their delegates, 
 chancellors, archdeacons, officials, &c. as it is expressed in the 
 very words of the article, and was on purpose so expressed, to 
 difference that frame from other forms of episcopacy, and par- 
 ticularly from that which is exercised by bishops jointly with 
 presbyters in presbyteries and synods, and that is it which is 
 now used in this church. And that the presbyterians in Eng- 
 land do generally take notice of this difference, and to that
 
 CXCU TWO LETTERS BY ARCHBISHOP LEIGHTON. 
 
 tlegree, as to account the one model contrary to the covenant, 
 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 discerning, 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 cannot join with the present 
 frame of this church, could not have lived in the communioii 
 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 upon another occasion.
 
 Dr. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE*. 
 
 When Mr. Wilson undertook to publish several pieces 
 of Archbishop Leighton_, from the manuscripts in 
 which they had so long lain concealed, having heard 
 of the high esteem I have long professed for the writings 
 of that excellent person, he entreated me that I would 
 revise them, and if I approve the publication, would 
 introduce them into the world by a recommendatory 
 preface. The last of these requests I absolutely refused, 
 knowing how very unv/orthy I am to pretend, by my 
 suffrage, to add any thing to the reputation and accept- 
 ance of what came from the pen of so eminently great 
 and good a man ; and the more I know of him, and of 
 myself, the more deeply sensible I must be of his. 
 But with the former request I cheerfully complied, 
 though my various and important business would have 
 furnished a very plausible excuse for declining it. I 
 apprehended that these pieces were not very large, 
 and I knew that, like all the other remains of our 
 incomparable Author, they wore not designed for the 
 press ; so that it was probable they were written in a 
 very hasty manner, considering how well he knew the 
 
 * Drawn up for the Edition of Archbishop Leighton's Expository 
 
 "Works, in two vohimes, octavo, publislied by David Wilson, Edinburgh, 
 
 1748. 
 
 Vol, I. n
 
 CXciv DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. 
 
 value of time, and how entirely lie was superior to 
 popular applause in all his compositions for the pulpit, 
 as most of these were. The numberless errors which 
 I had observed in the first edition of all his English 
 works, by which the sense of many passages is abso- 
 lutely destroyed, and that of scores and hundreds very 
 much obscured, made me the more ready to attempt 
 the paying this little tribute of respect to his memory, 
 which no words or actions can fully express ; and I was 
 morally certain, that whatever came from such a pen 
 would be so entertaining and improving, that I could not 
 fail of being immediately and abundantly rewarded for 
 whatever pains it might cost me to prepare it for the 
 public. 
 
 When these manuscripts came to my hands, T found 
 new reasons to be satisfied with the task I had under- 
 taken, which indeed was welcome to me in proportion 
 to the degree in which I perceived it must be laborious. 
 The papers which were sent me, were copies of others, 
 which I suppose were transcribed from short-hand 
 notes, which some skilful writer had happily taken 
 from the Archbishop's mouth. They were beyond 
 comparison more inaccurate than those of his printed 
 works, which are most remarkably so ; and yet they 
 contained such inimitable traces of sweet natural elo- 
 quence, and of genuine and lively piety, as speak the 
 author far more certainly, than the most exact resem- 
 blance of what was known to be his hand-writing could 
 possibly have done. 
 
 Besides a large collection of letters, of which I shall 
 afterwards speak, the papers consisted of his medita-
 
 DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. CXCV 
 
 tions and expositions on Psalm xxxix., on part of Rom. 
 xii., and the whole sixth of Isaiah. On this last sub- 
 lime and instructive portion of scripture, there were 
 three distinct expositions, delivered, as I suppose, at 
 different places ; the latter being-, so far as I could 
 judge^ supplemental to the former, yet so that addi- 
 tions were made to almost every verse, and sometimes 
 the same things which had been said before, expressed 
 in a different manner. I judged it consistent with the 
 strictest fidelity owing to the works of so illustrious a 
 person, (which absolutely forbade my adding' or dimi- 
 nishing any thing) to divide them, and incorporate them 
 into one whole, which could not possibly be done with- 
 out transcribing the pieces, omitting those passages in 
 the former, that were afterwards more copiously or 
 more correctly expressed in the latter, and inserting 
 here and there a line or two, by way of connexion, to 
 prevent those disagreeable chasms which would other- 
 wise have defaced much of its beauty. For the rest, 
 the reader may assure himself, that if (which I cannot 
 doubt) these papers came genuine into my hand, they 
 are now entirely so, in every sentence and in every 
 clause ; for in those very few places where the sense 
 was to me absolutely unintelligible, and the construc- 
 tion 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 I 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 : 
 
 n 2
 
 CXCVl DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. 
 
 but as they were very few, and like the rest of his writ- 
 ings, entirely of a devotional and practical nature, I 
 thought it would have been a formality nearly border- 
 ing- upon impertinence, to have collected and inserted 
 them in such a manner. 
 
 The Ethico-critical meditations on the iv., xxxii., and 
 cxxx. Psalms, abound with so many charming senti- 
 ments 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 reviewed the version 
 with as much accuracy as my other engagements would 
 allow. It is indeed impossible to transfuse the inimi- 
 table 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 reflections, though vmder the 
 disadvantage of a dress much less beautiful and orna- 
 mental. 
 
 When this part of the design was executed, I was 
 insensibly, by an ambiguity of expression in the pro- 
 posals printed at Edinburgh, led into another labour, 
 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 language. At first, I intended only to have 
 noted those gross mistakes which quite pervert what 
 any person of common penetration must see to have 
 been the original sense, and yet are taken no notice of
 
 DPv. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. CXCVil 
 
 in the erroneous tabic of errata. But afterwards con- 
 sidering what an embarrassment it is to common 
 readers to see commas, colons, and periods placed 
 almost in a promiscuous disorder, without any regard 
 to their proper signification, which is the case here, at 
 least in every ten lines, I 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 complained of in the Arch- 
 bishop'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 inserted, as if on purpose to 
 increase the perplexity. 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 placing the number of the 
 head, instead of the head itself. This perhaps was 
 done with design in 1' e first copy, to save the trouble 
 of writing it over again , tbut it is extremely inconve- 
 nient to the reader, as it most naturally leads him to 
 mistake the first sentence of the enlargement;, for the 
 head it is intended to illustrate. 
 
 This is a remark which is applicable to many of our 
 Author's sermons ; and I wish it had been more con- 
 stantly attended to in that valuable edition of them 
 published by Mr. Wilson at Edinburgh two years ago, 
 in comparison of which, nevertheless, it is certain that 
 neither of the former are to be named. I thought it no
 
 CXCviii DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. 
 
 unwarrantable liberty at all^ but a high point of justice, 
 to sui)ply with my pen what is so evidently deticient, 
 and I hope I shall not be condemned for venturing, as 
 I was expressly desired to do, here and there to ex- 
 change a Scots word or phrase for an English one, 
 certainly of the same signification, and more generally 
 understood. I thoue-ht that to have distins^uished all 
 these corrections by different characters, crotchets, or 
 inverted commas, would have injured the beauty of 
 the impressions, and might have looked like a little 
 affectation 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 information, by comparing 
 this edition with the former, by which they may judge 
 of the little, but, as I thought, very necessary freedoms 
 taken with the manuscript pieces. And if any perceive, 
 as I suppose most observant readers that make the 
 comparison will, that the Commentary upon Peter now 
 reads in a much rounder, clearer, and pleasanter man- 
 ner than it before did ; they will only reflect how much 
 a multitude of little neg-lio-encies and errors, each of 
 them seeming 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 pre[)aring these volumes for the 
 press hath generally taken up a little of my time in the 
 intei'vals of other business, daily for several months ; 
 but I am flir from repenting the labour I have bestowed 
 upon it. The delight ancl edification which I have 
 found in the writings of this loomUrfid man, for such I 
 must deliberately call him, would have been a full
 
 DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. CXCIX 
 
 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 impressions 
 which I could wish always to retain. I can hardly 
 forbear saying, as a considerable philosopher and emi- 
 nent divine^ with whom I have the honour of an inti- 
 mate correspondence and friendship, said to me in a 
 letter long ago*, and wdien my acquaintance with our 
 Author's works was but begiiniing, " 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 simplicity and humility, candour 
 and benevolence, exalted piety, without the least tinc- 
 ture of enthusiasm^ and an entire mortification to every 
 earthly interest? without any mixture of splenetic resent- 
 ment. Nor can I ever sufficiently 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 various graces that 
 can adorn and ennoble the Christian, running like so 
 many veins of precious 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, un- 
 
 * April 10, 1740. ' Tlie Reverend Dr. Henry Miles, F.R.S.
 
 CC DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. 
 
 adorned as they really are^ wlikli I have observed to 
 be owned by persons of emhient piety in the most dif- 
 ferent ranks, and amidst 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 laboured description of complexion, features, 
 or air, or any harangue on the nicest rules of proportion 
 which could come into consideration ; so, in the works 
 of this great adept in true Christianiti/, 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 almost said, 
 demonstrate him to have been, by such internal cha- 
 racters as surely a bad man could not counterfeit^ and 
 no good man can so much as suspect. 
 
 Where the mattei- is so remarkably excellent, a wise 
 and pious 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 often wondered at the many true 
 beauties of expression that occur in these pieces, and 
 the general freedom from those false and fanciful orna- 
 ments, if they are to be called ornaments, which occur 
 in contemporary authors. On the wh(jle, the style won- 
 derfully 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 the whole, it has often 
 reminded me of that soft and sweet eloquence of Ulysses,
 
 DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. CCl 
 
 which Homer* describes as falHiig- hkc flakes of snow ; 
 and if I inioht be allowed to pursue the similitude, I 
 could add, like that, it penetrates 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 compe- 
 tent judges. 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 concern- 
 ing it, it remarkably reigns here. We find, indeed, 
 little of that laborious sifting of words and syllables, in 
 which 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 inconsiderable, when 
 compared with those which our Author pursues and 
 attains. The reader will, I think, find great light 
 poured 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" every thing as superfluous, which did 
 not immediately tend to make his readers better, or 
 rather to have had a heart so entirely possessed with 
 this desire, that nothing else ever offered itself to his 
 view. Whatever of an ornamental kind is to be found 
 in these practical parts of the work, which certainly 
 constitute more than six-sevenths of the whole, appears 
 to have been quite unlaboured and unsought ; but it 
 conduces much to our entertainment^ and I hope in its
 
 Ccii DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. 
 
 consequence to our improvement^ that the Author had 
 naturally a very fine imag-ination ; the consequence of 
 which is, that his works abound with a charming variety 
 of beautiful figures^ springing- up most naturally from 
 his subjects, and so adding- some g-races of novelty to 
 thoughts in themselves most obvious and common. 
 
 On the whole^ I cannot 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 re- 
 ligion, and promoting the interest of true Christianity. 
 It has appeared to me a memorable event, that when 
 the extreme modesty of Archbishop 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 
 deaths 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 denominations 
 throughout Great Britain, I am very sensible of it as 
 an honour done to me in the course of Divine Provi- 
 dence, that the task I have here executed should so very 
 unexpectedly be devolved upon me. I have no pro- 
 perty at all in the work, nor the least secular interest in 
 its success : what I have done was entirely the result 
 of love to the Author's memory, and concern for the 
 public good ; but I shall be gloriously rewarded^ if the 
 labour I have bestowed upon it be the occasion of pro- 
 moting 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
 
 DR. Doddridge's preface. cciu 
 
 he so ardently aspired, while yet amongst mortals. And 
 let me be permitted to add, that I have some secret hope 
 this publication, in these circumstances, may, among 
 other good effects, promote that spirit of Catholicism, for 
 which our Author was so remarkable, and extend it 
 among various denominations 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 here be apparent, 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 
 towards Archbishop Leighton, nor prevented my de- 
 lighting in his works, and profiting by them. In this 
 respect I trust my brethren in Scothmd will, for their 
 own sake, and that of religion in general, show the like 
 candour. On the other side, as I have observed with 
 great pleasure and thankfulness how much many of the 
 established clergy in this part of Britain are advancing 
 in moderation towards 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 any thing 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 Protest- 
 ant cause, establish the throne of our gracious Sove- 
 reign, remove the scandals our divisions have occa-
 
 CCIV DR. DODDRIDGE S PREFACE. 
 
 sioned, and strengthen our hands hi those efforts by 
 which we are attempthig, and might then, I hope^ more 
 successfully attempt the service of our common Chris- 
 tianity. In the mean time^ I desire most sincerely to 
 bless God for any advances that are made towards it ; 
 and I cannot forbear to illustrate and confirm my 
 thoughts on this head, by inserting the elegant words 
 of a most worthy member of the Church of England, 
 well known in the learned world, as T have lately 
 had the honour of receiving them from his own pen. 
 1 conceal his name, and therefore hope it is no viola- 
 tion of the laws of fiiendship, to insert at large a pas- 
 sage from a famihar letter, which, if it warms my rea- 
 der's breast as it did mine, will be not only an enter- 
 tainment, 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 understood and 
 " taught l)y so many men of parts and learning in all 
 ^' sects, the fruits of which appear in a candour 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 f\imons 
 " prophecy that speaks of the lion and the lamb Ij/ing 
 " down tou'eiher in the kino-dom of the Messiah ? Lions 
 " there have been hitherto in all churches, but too 
 ^' many fierce, greedy, and blood-thirsty lions, though 
 " often diso'uised like lambs, and some lambs there 
 '* have been, simple enough to think it exj)cdient for 
 '' the flock, to assume the habit and terror of lions ;
 
 DR. DODDRIDGE'S PREFACE. CCV 
 
 <( 
 
 but I hope tliey now beg-in to undeceive themselves, 
 ^' and to consider Christianity as intending- to bring- 
 ^* back the world to that state of innocence which it 
 " enjoyed before the fall, when in one and the same 
 " paradise^ to use the words of Milton, 
 
 Frisking play'd 
 
 All beasts of th' earth, since wild, and of all chase. 
 In wood or wilderness, forest or den. 
 Sporting' the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
 Dandled the kid. 
 
 '^' To attain this happy state," continues this amiable 
 writer, " all Christians should unite their endeavours, 
 ^' 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 
 " least sow the seeds of peace and unity, though they 
 ^' should not live to reap the fruits of it in this world. 
 *"' Blessed are the peace-makers, says the Prince of peace, 
 "for they shall be called the children of God. An ap- 
 " pellation infinitely more honourable than that of 
 " pastor, bishop, archbishop, patriarch, cardinal, or 
 *' pope, attended with a recompense infinitely surpass- 
 " ing the richest revenues of the highest 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. 
 
 Northampto77, April 2G, 1748,
 
 PRACTICAL COMMENTARY UPON THE 
 FIRST EPISTLE GENERAL 
 
 ST. PETER.
 
 PRACTICAL C03IMENTARY 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 FIRST EPISTLE GENERAL 
 
 ST. PETER. 
 
 Chapter I. Verse 1. 
 
 Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers scattered throughout 
 Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia. 
 
 X HE grace of God in tlie heart of man, is a tender plant in 
 a strange unkindly soil ; and therefore cannot well prosper and 
 grow, without much care and pains, and that of a skilful hand, 
 and which hath the art of cherishing it : for this end hath God 
 given the constant ministry of the word to his Church, not 
 only for the first work of conversion, but also for confirming 
 and increasino- of his a;race 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 plant- 
 ing 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 ex- 
 horting them in person, as they could, and by the supply of 
 their writing to them when absent. 
 
 Vol. I. B
 
 2 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 And the benefit of this extends (not by accident, but by 
 the purpose and good providence 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 consolations 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 strengthening him against all opposition in the way, both 
 that of corruption within, and temptations and afflictions from 
 without. 
 
 The heads of doctrine contained in it are many, but the 
 main that are most insisted on, are these three, faith, obedi- 
 ence, and patience ; to estal^lish them in believing, to direct 
 them in doing, and to comfort them in suffering. And be- 
 cause 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, vix., their redemption and salvation by Christ Jesus; 
 that inheritance of immortality bought by his blood for them, 
 and the evidence and stability 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 object and matter of 
 the hope of believers, he encourages to patience, and exhorteth 
 to holiness in this chapter in general, so, in the following 
 chapters, he expresses more particularly both the universal 
 and special duties of Christians, both in doing and suffering, 
 often setting before those to whom he wrote, the matchless 
 example of the Lord Jesus, and the greatness of their engage- 
 ment to follow him. 
 
 In the first two verses, we have the Inscription and 
 Salutation, in the usual style of the Apostolic Epistles,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF' PETER. 6 
 
 The Inscription hath the author and llic address-, — from 
 whom, and to whom. The Autlior of tliis A^^jis^Ze is desig- 
 nated by his name — Peter ; and his callimj — an apostle. 
 
 We shall not insist upon his name, that it was imposed by 
 Christ, or wliat is its signification ; this the Evangelists teach 
 us, John i. 42, Matt. xvi. 18. 
 
 By that which is spoken of him in divers passages of the 
 Gospel, he is very remarkable amongst the Apostles, both for 
 his graces and his failings ; eminent in zeal and courage, and 
 yet stumbling oft in his forwardness, and once grossly falling. 
 And these, by the providence of God, being recorded in Scrip- 
 tui'e, give 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 honour of his Lord and 
 master Jesus Christ, for he is injured and dishonoured by it; 
 but it is in favour of themselves. As Alexander distinguished 
 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 confidently 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, Chrisfs suffer- 
 ings, — his Master, spare thyself, or Far he 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 gilded crosses ; these they are content to embrace, 
 and worship too, but cannot 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 mili- 
 tant, into the Church triumphant, not considering that it is 
 
 B 2
 
 4 A COMMENTARY UrON 
 
 Babylon's voice, not the Church's, / sit as a queen, and nhall 
 sec no sorrow. 
 
 A<^ain, they are like liim in iiis 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 
 cjood to he here, say they. 
 
 Again, in their undue striking with the sword, not the ene- 
 mies, as he, but the faithful friends and servants of Jesus 
 Christ. But to proceed. 
 
 We see here Peter's office or title, — an apostle ; not chief 
 bisho]). Some in their glossing have been so impudent as to 
 add that beside the text ; though in chap. v. ver. 4, he gives 
 that title to Christ alone, and to himself only fellow elder ; 
 and here, not prince 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 Ave 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 
 swallows up multitudes of sins, of the greatest sins, not only 
 sins before conversion, as to St. Paul, but foul offences com- 
 mitted 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 honour, yea, of the most 
 defiled shape to make the most refined vessels, not vessels of 
 honour of the lowest sort, but for the highest and most honour- 
 able 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 messengers. 
 
 Of Jesus Christ.'] Both as the beginning and the end of his 
 npostleship, as Christ is called yilpha and Ometja ; chosen and 
 called by him, and called to this — to preach him, and salvation 
 wnnight by him.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEU. 
 
 Apostle of Jesus Christ.^ Sent by him and the message no 
 other than his name, to make that known. And what tills 
 apostleship was then, after some 'extraordinary way, befitting 
 these first times of the Gospel, the ministry of the word in 
 ordinary is now, and therefore an employment of more diffi- 
 culty and excellency than is usually conceived by many, not 
 only of those who look upon it, but even of those Avho are exer- 
 cised in it ; — to be ambassadors for the greatest of kings, and 
 upon no mean employment, that great treaty of peace and re- 
 concilement 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 pass- 
 ing, to signify to whom particularly he sent his Epistle ; but 
 the other is that which he would have their thoughts dwell 
 upon, and therefore he prosecutes it in his following discourse. 
 And if we look to the order of the words, their temporal con- 
 dition is but interjected ; 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 fore- 
 knowledge of God the Father. 
 
 That those dispersed strangers who dwelt in the countries 
 here named, were Jews, appears, if we look to the foregoing 
 Epistle, where the same word is used, and expressly appro- 
 priated to the Jews. (James i. 1.) St. Peter in Gal. ii. is called 
 an Apostle of the circumcision, as exercising his apostleship 
 most towards 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 particular 
 fitness to the believing Jews, as being particularly verified in 
 them, which was spoken of their nation, chap. ii. ver. 9, 10. 
 
 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 ;
 
 6 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 but were not the Jews strangers in these places — Pontus, Gala- 
 tia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia ? — Not strangers dwelling 
 together in a prosperous flourishing condition, as a well-planted 
 colony, but stramjers of the dispersion, scattered to and fro. 
 Their dispersion was partly, first by the Assyrian captivity, 
 and after tliat by the Babylonish, 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 dis- 
 persed, 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 regions. And if 
 any of the number then converted were amongst these dispersed, 
 the comfort was no doubt the more grateful from the hand of 
 the same Apostle by Avhom they Avere first converted ; but this 
 is only conjecture. Though divine truths are to be received 
 equally from every minister alike, yet it must be acknowledged 
 that there is something (we know not what to call it) of a more 
 acceptable reception of those who at first were the means of 
 bringing 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 which they obtained by effectual callimj ; 
 and so calls off their eyes from their outward, dispersed, and 
 despised condition, to look above that, as high as the spring of 
 their happiness, \he free love and election of God. Scattered 
 in the countries, and yet gathered in God's election, chosen or 
 picked out ; strangers to men amongst whom they dwelt, but 
 known and foreknown to God ; removed from their own 
 country, to which men have naturally an unalterable affection, 
 but Jicirs made of a better (as follows, ver. 8, 4) ; and having 
 within them the evidence both of eternal election and of that 
 expected salvation, the Sjnrit of holiness (ver. 2). At the 
 best a Christian is but a stranger here, set him where you 
 will, as our Apostle tcacheth after; and it is his privilege that
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 7 
 
 he is so ; and when he thinks not so, ho 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 him- 
 self 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 
 measure of it, and an endeavour after more ; and by this may he 
 conclude that he hath ordained him unto salvation. If either 
 he is a stranger where he lives, or as a stranger deserted 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 everlasting, is sealed to his soul. 
 And O M'hat will it avail a man to be compassed about with 
 the favour of the world, to sit unmolested in his own home and 
 possessions, and to have them very great and pleasant, to be 
 well monied, and landed, and befriended, and yet estranged and 
 severed from God, not having any token of his special love ? 
 
 To the Elect.] The Apostle here denominates all the Chris- 
 tians to whom he writes, by the condition of true believers, 
 calhng them Elect and Sanctified, <^"c., and the Apostle 
 St. Paul writes in the same style in his Epistles to the churches. 
 Not that all in these churches were such indeed, but because 
 they professed to be such, and by that their profession and 
 calling as Christians, they were obliged to be such ; and as many 
 of them as were in any measure true to that their calling and 
 profession were really such. Besides, it would seem not un- 
 worthy 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 times, 
 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 discretion, were, by the hearing of the Gospel, con- 
 verted from Paganism and Judaism to the Christian relio-ion 
 first, and made a deliberate choice of it ; to which there were
 
 8 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 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 Churclfs prosperity. 
 Though no nation or kingdom had then universally received 
 the faith, but rather hated and persecuted it, yet were there 
 even then amongst them, as the writings of the Apostles testify, 
 false brethren, and inordinate walkers, and men of corrupt 
 minds, earthly-minded, and led with a spirit of envy and con- 
 tention and vain-glory. 
 
 Although the question that is moved concerning the neces- 
 sary qualifications of all the members of a true visible church, 
 can no way (as I conceive) be decided from the inscriptions of 
 the Epistles ; yet, certainly, they are useful 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 inconformity that is in the most part of 
 men, to the description of Christians. As there be some that 
 are too strait in their judgment concerning the being and 
 nature of the visible church, so certainly the greatest part of 
 cluu'ches are too loose in their practice. 
 
 From the dissimilitude betwixt our churches and those, we 
 may make this use of reproof, that if an apostolical Epistle 
 were to be directed to us, it ought to be inscribed, to the igno- 
 rant, profane, malicious. Sec. 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, given in the in- 
 scription of these Epistles, are not true characters, or we are 
 not true Christians. 
 
 Ver. 2. Elect, accordine; to the foveknowledsjo of God the Falher, through 
 sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedience, and spiinkUng of the 
 blood of Jesus Clirist. 
 
 In this verse avc have their rmidifion and the causes of it. — 
 Their condition sanctified awA justified ; the former expressed 
 by obedience, tiie latter, by sprinkUncj of the blood of Christ. 
 The causes, 1. Eternal election, 2. The execution of that
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 9 
 
 decree, tliclr effectual calliiKj, which (I conceive) is meant by 
 Election here, the selecting them ovit of the world, and joining 
 tliem to the fellowship of the children of God. So John xv. 19. 
 The former, Election, 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 concurring dignify 
 them with this their spiritual and happy estate. 
 
 First, I shall discourse of these separately, and then of their 
 connexion. I. Of the State itself, and 1. of Justification, though 
 named last. 
 
 This sprinklintj has respect to the rite of the legal purifica- 
 tion 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 ransom of souls, which 
 was only shadowed by them. 
 
 The use and end of sprinkling were 2}urif cation and expia- 
 tion, because sin merited death, and the pollutions and stains of 
 human nature were by sin. Such is the pollution, that it can 
 be no manner of way washed off but by blood. (Heb. ix. 22.) 
 Neither is there any blood able to purge from sin, except 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, inti- 
 mates 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. 
 
 Filthiness 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, its purity, 
 and the contrary of these, — its death, diseases, deformities, and
 
 10 A COMMENTARY Ul'ON 
 
 impurity, which belong to it as to their first subject, and to the 
 body by participation. 
 
 The soul and body of all mankind are stained by the pollu- 
 tion of sin. The impure leprosy of the soul is not a spot out- 
 wardly, but wholly inward ; hence, as the corporal leprosy was 
 purified by the sprinkhng of blood, so is this. Then, by re- 
 flecting, we see how all this that the Apostle St. Peter expresseth 
 is necessary to justification. 1. Christ the Mediator betwixt 
 God and man, is God and man. 2. A mediator not only in- 
 terceding, but also satisfying (Eph. ii. 16). 3. This satisfac- 
 tion doth not reconcile us, unless 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 hj^ssop, wherewith 
 the sprinkling was made : this is it of which the Prophet speaks, 
 (Isa. lii. 15,) So shall he sprinkle many nations ; and which 
 the Apostle to the Hebrews prefers above all legal sprinklings, 
 (Chap. ix. 12, 13, ]4,) both as to its duration, and as to the 
 excellency of its effects. 
 
 INIen are not easily convinced and persuaded of the deep 
 stain of sin, and that no other laver can fetch it out, but the 
 sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ. Some who have moral 
 resolutions of amendment, dislike at least gross sins, and pur- 
 pose 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 highest current of 
 repentance, nor that which is the truest evidence of repentance, 
 amendment ; it is none of these that ])urify in the sight of 
 God, and expiate wrath; they are all inij)erfect and stained 
 themselves, cannot stand and answer for themselves, much less 
 be of value to counterjjoise the former guilt of sin. The very 
 tears of the purest repentance, unless they be sprinkled with 
 this blood, are im|)ure ; all our washings, without this, are but
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 11 
 
 washings of the blackmoor, it is labour in vain. (Jer. ii. 22, 
 Job ix. 80, 81.) There are none truly purified by the blood of 
 Christ, who do not endeavour after purity of heart and conver- 
 sation ; 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 to 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 Saviour, 
 and a crucified Saviour, — by Christ, and by his blood, first 
 shed on the cross in his suffering, and then sprinkled on the 
 soul by his Spirit. It is easier to make men sensible of the 
 necessity of repentance and amendment of life, (though that 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 doc- 
 trine of the Gospel ; it is not by the sprinkling of water, even 
 that water which is the sign of this blood, without the blood 
 itself and the sprinkling of it. Many are present where it is 
 sprinkled , and yet have no portion in 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 generation) deceived in this ; they are their own deceivers, 
 jntre in their oim eyes. (Prov. xxx. 12.) How earnestly 
 doth David pray, JVash me, purge me icifh hyssop ! Though 
 bathed in tears, (Psal vi. 6,) that satisfied not : — Wash thou me. 
 This is the honourable condition of the saints, that they are pu- 
 rified and consecrated unto God by this sprinkling; yea, they 
 have on long ivhite robes washed 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 candidates, long white 
 robes ivashed in the blood of the Lamb, washed white in blood. 
 As for this blood, it is nothing but purity and spotlessness,
 
 12 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 being stained with no sin, and besides hath tliat virtue to take 
 away the stain of sin, where it is sprinkled. Mij well be- 
 loved is white and ruddy, saith the spouse; tlius 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 
 sprinhlinfj , are likewise chosen to obedience. This blood pu- 
 rifieth the heart; yea, this blood piircjelh our consciences from 
 dead narks to serve the living God. (Heb. ix. 14.) 
 
 2. Of their sanctification. Elect unto obedience.^ It is easily 
 understood to whom. When obedience to God is expressed by 
 the simple absolute name of obedience, it teacheth us that to 
 him alone belongs absolute and unlimited obedience, all obedi- 
 ence by all creatures. It is the shame and misery of man, that 
 he hath departed from this obedience, that we are become sons 
 of disobedience ; but Grace, renewing the liearts of believers, 
 changeth their natures, and so their names, and makes them 
 children of obedience (as afterwards in this chapter) . As this 
 obedience 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 obe- 
 dience, then, of the only-begotten Jesus Christ, may well be 
 understood not as his actively, as Beza interprets it, but ubjec- 
 tivly, as 2 Cor. x. 5. I think here it is contained, yea chiefly 
 understood to signify that obedience which the Apostle in the 
 Epistle to the Romans calls the obedience of faitli, by which 
 tl)e doctrine of Christ is received, (and so Christ himself,) 
 which imiteth the believing .soul to Christ, — he s])rinkles it 
 with his blood, to the remission of sin, — and which is the root 
 and spring of all future obedience in the Christian life. 
 
 My obedience, sanctification is lure intimated; it signifies, 
 then, l)oth habitual and active obedience, renovation of heart, 
 and conformity to the divine will. The mind is illuminated
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF I'ETKU. 13 
 
 by tlie Holy Ghost, to know and believe the divine will ; yea, 
 this faith is the great and chief part of obedience. (See lloni. 
 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 affections, and the whole body, with its members, learn 
 to give a willing obedience, and submit unto God ; Avhereas 
 before they resisted him, being under the standard of Satan. 
 
 This obedience, though imperfect, yet hath a certain (if I 
 may so say) imperfect perfection. 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 perseveringly. 
 
 The first universality is the cause of the other : because it is 
 not in the tongue alone, or in the hand, &c. , but has its root in 
 the heart ; therefoi-e 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 com- 
 mand 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 di- 
 vinely argues ; and this authority is the golden chain of all the 
 commandments, which if broken in any link, all fidls to pieces. 
 
 That this threefold perfection of obedience is not a picture 
 drawn by fancy, is evident in David, Psal. cxix., where he 
 subjects himself 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 shall keep it unto the oul. 
 
 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 an excellent thing, and worthy of their endeavours
 
 14 A COMMEXTARY UPO>J 
 
 wlio arc most desirous of knowledge, to know the best things 
 in their liighest 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 before 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 sprinkling of 
 his blood purifies them from guiltiness, and quickens them to 
 obedience. 
 
 The appropriating or applying cause comes next under con- 
 sideration, which is the Holy, and holy-maldng or sanctifying 
 Spirit, the author of their selection from the world, and effec- 
 tual callino- unto o'race. 
 
 p o 
 
 The source of all, the appointing or decreeing 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 par- 
 ticularly to ascribe the first work of eternal election to the first 
 person of the blessed Trinity. 
 
 In or through sanctification.'] For to render it, elect to the 
 sanctification, is strained : so then I conceive this election is 
 their effectual calling, which is by the Avorking of the Holy 
 Spirit, (See 1 Cor. i. 26 — 28,) where vocation and election are 
 used in the same sense : Ye see your calling, brethren, how that 
 not many wise men after the flesh, &c., hut God hath chosen 
 the foolish things of the ivorld to confound the wise. It is 
 the first act of the decree of election ; the beginning of its 
 performance in those tliat 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 regard of its relation to elec- 
 tion, and in regard of its own nature, it well bears that name. 
 See Horn. viii. 28, 30; Acts ii. 47, and xiii. 48; John xv. 19. 
 
 Sanctification in a narrower sense, as distinguished from jus- 
 tificatlonf signifieth the inherent holiness of a Christian, or liis
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 15 
 
 being inclined and enabled to perform the obedience mentioned 
 in this verse : but it has here a sense more large, and is co- 
 exlended with the whole work of renovation ; it is the severing 
 and separating of men to God, by his Holy Spirit, drawing 
 them unto him ; and so it comprehends justification (as here) 
 and the first working of faith, by which the soul is justified, 
 through its apprehending and applying the righteousness of 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Of the Spirit.'\ The word calls men externally, and by that 
 external calling prevails with many to an external receiving and 
 professing of religion ; but if it be left alone it goes no further. 
 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 first subject of this work, and it is but 
 slight false work that begins 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 thcFe- 
 fore our Saviour in that place prays to the Father, that he 
 ivould sanctify his own by that truth ; and this he doth by the 
 concurrence of his Spirit with that word of truth which is the 
 life and vigour 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 dividing of soid 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 severed from that word, but working 
 in it, and by it. 
 
 It is a very difficult work to draw a soul out of the hands 
 and strong chains of Satan, and out of the pleasing entangle- 
 ments of the world, and out of its own natural perverseness, to 
 yield up itself unto God, — to deny itself, and live to him, and
 
 16 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 in SO doing, to run against the main stream, and the current of 
 the ungodly world without, and corruption 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 fi*ee itself, and shake off all that 
 detains it. Although it be convinced of the truth of those 
 things that are represented to it, yet still it can and will hold 
 out against it and say, Non persuadehis etiamsl persiiaseriH. 
 
 The hand of man is too weak to pluck any soul out of the 
 crowd of the world, and to set it in amongst the select number 
 of believers. Only the Father of Spirits hath absolute com- 
 mand of spirits, viz., the souls of men, to work on them as he 
 pleaseth, and where he will. This powerful, this sanctifying 
 Spirit knows no resistance ; Avorks 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 speak 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 
 disobey than Abraham did, when the Lord spoke to him after 
 an extraordinary manner, to depart 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 S[)irit upon the soul, by which 
 it is forced, not with a harsh, but a pleasing violence, and can- 
 not choose but follow it, not unlike that of Elijah''s mantle 
 iijon Elisha. How easily did the disciples forsake their call- 
 in ">: and their dwellin<rs to follow Christ! 
 
 The S])irit of God draws a man out of the world by a sanc- 
 tified 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 . Setting before his
 
 THE riUST EPISTLE OF PETER. 17 
 
 eyes the free and happy condition, the ijlorious 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 cannot 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, / was 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, singular, a few selected ones, picked 
 out by God's own hand for himself : Knovj that the Lord hath 
 set apart him that is godly for himself, (Psalm iv. 3.) There- 
 fore, saith our Saviour, the ivorld hates you, because I have 
 chosen you out of the ivorld. 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 
 amongst the ungodly : they walk in the world as warily as a 
 man or woman, neatly apparelled, would do amongst a multi- 
 tude that are all sullied and bemired. 
 
 Endeavour to have this sanctifying Spirit in yourselves ; 
 pray much for it ; for his promise is passed to us, that He ivill 
 give this holy Spirit to them that ask if. 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 follow the voice of God calling us to his obedience, then let 
 us pray with the Spouse, Draiv" me. She cannot 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 a 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 number of these that are called, the 
 
 Vol. I. C
 
 18 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 name of many. They who are in the visible church, and par- 
 take of external vocation, are hut like a large list of names (as 
 in civil elections is usual) out of which a small number is 
 chosen to the dignity of true Christians, and invested 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 
 mentioned at all. Certainly, it is a greater unhappiness to 
 have been Not far from the kingdom of God (as our Saviour 
 speaks) and miss of it, than still to have remained in the fur- 
 thest distance ; to have been at the mouth of the haven, (the 
 fair havens indeed,) and yet driven back and shipwrecked. 
 Your labour is most preposterous ; you seek to ascertain and 
 make sure things that cannot be made sure, and that which is 
 both more worth, and may be made surer than them all, you 
 will not endeavour 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 elec- 
 tion and love of God towards you, which follows to be con- 
 sidered. 
 
 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 
 beginning of time to the end of it, and beyond to all eternity, 
 and from all eternity he did foresee them. But this foreknow- 
 ledge here, relates peculiarly to the elect. Verba sensus in 
 sacra scriptura denotant affectus, as the Ilabbins remark. So 
 in man, Psal. Ixvi. Jf I see iniquity ; and in God, Psal. i. 6. 
 For the Lord knowetk the ivay of the righteous, &c. And 
 again, Amos iii. 2. You only have I known of all the families 
 of fJte earth, &c. And in that speech of our Saviour, relating 
 it as the terrible doom of reprobates at the last day, Depart, 
 &c., / know you not, I never knew you. So St. Paul, Rom. 
 vii. 15. For that which I do, I allow [Gr. know'] not. And
 
 THE riRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 19 
 
 IJeza observes that yivuiaiie.iM is by the Greeks sometimes taken 
 {ov decernere, judicare ; thus some speak, to cognosce uipon a 
 business. So then this foreknowkxlge is no other than that 
 eternal love of God, or decree of election, by which some are 
 appointed unto life, and being foreknown or elected unto that 
 end, they are predestinate to the way to it. For, whom he did 
 foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the 
 image of his Son, that lie 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 
 itself, as it is called, has chosen them : for, 1, Nothing at all is 
 futurum, 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 passage before cited,) Known 
 unto God are all his ivorks, because they are his works in time, 
 and his purpose from eternity. 2. It is most absurd to give 
 any reason of Divine will without Himself. 3. This supposi- 
 tion easily solves all that difficulty which the Apostle speaks 
 of ; and yet he never thought of such absolution, but runs high 
 for an answer, not to satisfy cavilling reason, but to silence it, 
 and stop its mouth : for thus thei\postle argues, Rom. ix. 19, 20. 
 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault ; 
 for who hath resisted his will? ^ciy, 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 it is evident that He had a pur- 
 pose 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 subordination, or rather co-ordination of those two: as 
 here, foreknown and elect, not because of obedience, or sprink- 
 ling, 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, 
 
 c2
 
 so A COMMENTARY UI'ON 
 
 Rom. vili. 20. 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 C/iurcJi daily such as sJiouId be 
 saved. Also xiii. 48. And as many as were ordained to eter* 
 nal life, believed. 
 
 This foreknowledge, then, is His eternal and unchangeable 
 love ; and that thus he chooseth some, and rcjectetli otliers, 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, tliis is even so, because it seemed good to Him. 
 This, if it be harsh, yet is Apostolic doctrine. Hath not the 
 potter (saith St. Paul) povcer over the same lump, to make one 
 vessel unto honour and another unto dishonour ? This deep 
 we must admire, and always in considering it, close with this : 
 O the depth of the riches, both of the ivisdom and knowledge 
 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 foreknowledge 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 M-rites their names under 
 the promises of the I'evealed book of life — the Scriptures, and 
 so ascertains them, that tlie same names are in tlie 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 tlie ocean into which it re- 
 turns, yet they know tliat it hath its source, and shall return 
 to that ocean which ai'iseth from their eternal election, and 
 shall empty itsjclf into that eternity of happiness and salvation,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 21 
 
 Ilencc mudi joy arisctli to the believer ; this tic is indissolu- 
 ble, as the agents are the Father, the Son, and the Spirit : so 
 are elcdion, and vocation, and scniclijicatlon, and justifica- 
 tion, and (jlory. 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 re- 
 main unholy and disobedient have as yet no evidence of tliis 
 love ; and therefore cannot, without vain presumption and self- 
 delusion, judge thus of themselves, that they are within the pe- 
 culiar love of God. But in this, Let the righteous he glad, and 
 let them shout for joj/, cdl that are vpricjht 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 na- 
 tural body in its natural place ; but the knowledge and consi- 
 deration 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 incom- 
 pletely, and but a small beginning of that which they expect. 
 And this their present happiness is so much the greater, the 
 more clear knowledge 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. 19..) 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 scdvation, 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 wherein we may attain, and ought to seek, that com- 
 fortable 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
 
 ^ A COMMENTARY UI'ON 
 
 sees not the pole-star, yet the needle of the compass 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 towards God by fixed believing, 
 points at the love of election, and tells the soul thj^t its course 
 is heavenward, towards the haven of eternal rest. He that 
 loves, may be sure he was loved first ; and he that chooses God 
 for his delight and portion, may conclude confidently, that God 
 hath 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 wc 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 
 reciproco : 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 wrath. Although, from present 
 unsanctification, a man cannot infer that he is not elected ; for 
 the decree may, for a part of a man's life, run (as it were) under 
 ground ; yet this is sure, that the estate leads to death, and 
 unless it be broken, will prove the black line of reprobation. 
 A man hatli no portion amongst 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 ivho seals men to the day of redemption. 
 (Ephcs. iv. 30.) 
 
 If any pretend that they have the Spirit, and so turn away 
 from the straight rule of the holy Scri[)tures, they have a spirit 
 indeed, but it is a fanatical sj^irit, the spirit of delusion and gid-
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 
 
 23 
 
 diness ; 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 saitJi, [know him, 
 and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is 
 not in him. (1 John ii. 4.) 
 
 Now this Spirit which sanctifieth, and sanctifieth to obe- 
 dience, is within us the evidence of our election, and the 
 earnest of our salvation. And Avhoso are not sanctified and 
 led by this Spirit, the Apostle tells us what is their condition, 
 Rom. viii. 9. If 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 which 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 build- 
 ing the temple at Jerusalem. 
 
 This is God's order: Psal. Ixxxiv. 12. He gives grace and 
 glory. Moralists can tell us, that the way to the temple of 
 honour, 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 pressing 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 performance, godliness is as certainly before 
 salvation, 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
 
 24) A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 of the love of God without it, take the Apostle's advice : study 
 it, seek it, follow earnestly after holiness, icithout ichich no man 
 sJiall see the Lord. 
 
 Grace unto you and jieacf be multiplied.'] It hath always 
 been a civil custom amongst men to season their intercoiu-se 
 Avith good Avishes one for another ; this the Apostles use in 
 their epistles, in a spiritual, divine way, suitable to their holy 
 writings. It well becomes the messengers of grace andi peace 
 to wish both, and to make their salutation conform to the main 
 scope and subject of their discourse. The Hebrew word of sa- 
 lutation 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 prospe- 
 rity, and happiness, flow from this source, and from this alone, 
 and are sought elsev.hcre in vain. 
 
 In general, this is the character of a Christian spirit, to have 
 a heart filled with blessing, Avith this sweet good-will and good- 
 wishing to all, especially to those who are their brethren in the 
 same profession of religion. 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 hke what you call court holy-water, in which 
 there is nothing else but falsehood, or vanity at the best. This 
 manifests men to be die sons of blessing, and of the ever-blessed 
 God, the father of all blessing, when in his name they bless 
 one another : yea, our Saviour'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 which is in heaven. 
 
 IJut, in a more eminent way, it is the duty of pastors to 
 bless their people, not only by their public and solemn bene- 
 diction, but by daily and instant prayers for tliein in secret. 
 And the great Father, who svelh in secret, will reward them 
 openly. 
 
 They are to be ever both endeavouring and wishino- their
 
 THE riRST EPISTLE OF TETEU. S5 
 
 increase of knowledge and all spiritual grace, in which they 
 have St. Paul a frequent pattern. 
 
 They who are messengers of this fjracc, if they have expe- 
 rience of it, it is the oil of gladness that will dilate their heart, 
 and make it large in love and spiritual desires for others, espe- 
 cially their own flocks. 
 
 Let us consider, 1 . The matter of the Apostle'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 Avith the many school-distinctions of Grace, 
 and describe in what sense it is here to be taken ; for no doubt 
 it is all saving Grace to those dispersed brethren, so that in the 
 largest notion which it can have that way, Ave may safely here 
 take it. 
 
 What are preventing grace, assisting grace, uwrking and 
 co-ivorking g7-ace, (as we may admit these differences in a 
 sound sense,) but divers names of the same effectual saving 
 grace, in relation to our different estate ? as the same sea re- 
 ceives 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 ivill 
 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 favour of God. 2. Grace in the streams, 
 the fruits of this love, (for it is not an empt}^, but a most rich 
 and liberal love,) viz., all the graces 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 
 multiplied, 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 spring of it, that love which cannot be ex- 
 hausted, 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 indif-
 
 '26 A COMMENTARY UFOU 
 
 ferently, 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 tlie most of us are otherwise taken up ; we will not be con- 
 vinced how basely and foolishly we are busied, though in the 
 best and most respected employments of tlie world, so long as 
 we neglect our noblest trade of growing rich in grace, and the 
 comfortable enjoyment of the love of God. Our Saviour tells 
 us of one thing needful, importing that all other things are 
 comparatively unnecessary, by-works, and mere impertinencies ; 
 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 worthy 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 we do not, yet some other business may step in after that. 
 Oh then, say we, that must be dispatched also. Thus, by such 
 delays, we )nay lose the present opportunity, and, in the end, 
 our own souls. 
 
 Oh ! be persuaded it deserves your diligence, and that without 
 delay, to seek somewhat that may be constant enough to abide 
 with you, and strong enough to uphold you in all conditions, 
 and that is alone tliis free grace and love of God. While many 
 say, fVho will shew us any <jood 9 set you in with David in 
 his choice. Lord, lift thou vp the liijlit of thy countenance 
 upon me, and this shall rejoice my heart more than the abun- 
 dance of corn and wine. (Psalm iv. 6, 7.) 
 
 This is that light which can break into the darkest dungeons, 
 from which all other lights and comforts are shut out ; and 
 without this, all other enjoyments are, what the world would 
 be without the sun, nothing but darkness. Happy they who 
 have this light of Divine favour and grace shining into their
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETER. 2*7 
 
 souls, for by it they shall be led to that city, where the sim 
 and moon arc needless ; for Tlu; <jlory 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 ivhich is to come ; 
 all other blessings 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 we may take it here, for all kind 
 of peace ; yea, and for all other blessings, but especially that 
 spiritual peace, which is the proper fruit of grace, and doth so 
 intrinsically flow from it. 
 
 We may and ought to wish to the Church of God outward 
 blessings, and particularly outward peace, as one of the greatest, 
 and one of the most valuable favours of God : thus prayed the 
 Psalmist, Peace he ivithin thy walls, and prosperity within 
 thy palaces. 
 
 That Wisdom which doth what lie will, by what means he 
 will, and works one contrariety 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, 2Vte Churcli had peace and increased exceedingly . 
 
 We ought also to wish for ecclesiastical peace to the Church, 
 that she may be free from dissensions and divisions. These 
 readily 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, / liear that there are divisions and 
 contentions among you. The enemy had done this, as our 
 Saviour speaks ; and this Enemy is no fool, for, by Divine per-
 
 28 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 mission, he Avorks to his own end very wisely. There is not one 
 thing that doth on all hands choke the seed of rehgion so 
 much, as thorny debates and differences about itself. So, in 
 succeeding ages, and at the breaking forth of the light in Ger- 
 many, 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 
 cannot agree upon it : our easiest way is, not to embroil our- 
 selves, not at all to be troubled with the business. INIany are 
 of Gallio's temper ; they iv III care for none of those thinrjs. 
 Thus these offences prove a mischief to the profane world, as 
 our Saviour says. Woe to the icorld because of offences. 
 
 Then those on the erring side, who are taken Avith new 
 opinions and fancies, are altogether taken up with them, their 
 main thoughts are spent upon them ; and thus the sap is drawn 
 from that which should nourish and prosper in their hearts, 
 sanctified useful 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 conceits, cannot but grow more with them, when they give 
 way to them, than solid religion dotli ; 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 divi- 
 sions, 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 which is far 
 sweeter in it, but hinders and abates it, viz., those pious 
 and devout 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 inseparable 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 spiritual peace 
 liaili two things in it. 1. Reconciliation with God. J2. Tran-
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF rETI'R. 29 
 
 quillity of spirit. The quarrel and matter of enmity, you 
 know, betwixt God and man, is, the rebelhon, the sin of man; 
 and he being naturally altogether sinful, there can proceed 
 nothing from him, but what foments and increases the hos- 
 tility. 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 agreement, 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, killed 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.) IVe have peace ivith God 
 through Jesus Christ our Lord ; and St. Paul expresses it in 
 his salutations, which are the same with this, Grace and i^eace 
 from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 As the free love and grace of God appointed this means and 
 way of our peace, and offered it, — so the same grace applies it, 
 and makes it ours, and gives us faith to apprehend it. 
 
 And from our sense of this peace, or reconcilement 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 
 interrupted, 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 temptation, or the darkness of desertion, losing sight 
 of that grace, that love and light of God's countenance, on 
 which its tranquilHty and joy depends. Thou didst hide thy 
 face, saith David, and I icas troubled. But Avhen these 
 eclipses are over, the soul is revived with new consolation, as 
 the face of the earth is renewed and made to smile with the 
 return of the sun in the spring; and this ought always to 
 uphold Christians in the saddest times, viz., that the grace 
 and love of God towards them depend not on their sense, nor
 
 80 
 
 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 upon any thing in them, but is still in itself incapable of the 
 smallest alteration. 
 
 It is natural to men to desire their own peace, the quietness 
 and contentment of their minds: but 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 summer days. My 
 peace I give you, saith Christ, not as the ivorld. Let not 
 your hearts be troubled. All the peace and favour of the 
 world cannot calm a troubled heart ; but where this peace is 
 which Christ gives, all the trouble and disquiet of the world 
 cannot disturb it. /F/ieu he cjiveth 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, is but as the rattlino- 
 of the hail upon the tiles to him that sits within the house at 
 a sumptuous feast. A good conscience is styled a feast, and 
 with an advantage which no other feast can have, nor, were it 
 possible, could men endure it. A hw hours of feasting will 
 weary the most professed epicure; but a conscience thus at 
 peace is a continual feast, with continual unwearied delight 
 What makes the world take up such a prejudice 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 vanity, but vexation of spirit ? If you have any belief of 
 holy truth, put but this once upon the trial, 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 enter- 
 tains grace, shall find that it and peace cannot dwell asunder. 
 An ungodly man may sleep to death in the lethargy of carnal
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 81 
 
 presumption and impenitency ; but a true, lively,' solid peace 
 he cannot have : There is no i^eace to the wicked, saith my 
 God. (Isa. Ivii. 21.) And if He say there is none, speak peace 
 who will, if all tlie world with one voice sliould speak it, it shall 
 prove none. 
 
 9,dly. Consider the measure of the Apostle's desire for his 
 scattered brethren, that this Grace and Peace may be multi- 
 plied. This the Apostle wishes for them, knowing the imper- 
 fection of the graces and peace of the saints while they are 
 here below ; and this they themselves, under a sense of that im- 
 perfection, ardently desire. They that have tasted the sweet- 
 ness of this grace and peace, call incessantly for more. This is 
 a disease in earthly desires, and a disease incurable by all the 
 things desired ; there is no satisfaction attainable by them ; but 
 this avarice of spiritual things is a virtue, and by our Saviour is 
 called blessedness, because it tends to fulness and satisfaction : 
 Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for 
 they shall be filled. 
 
 Ver, 3. Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who, 
 according to his abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a 
 lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. 
 
 Ver. 4. To an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, 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 sweet- 
 ness, their discourse of them is enlivened with firm belief, 
 and ardent affection ; they cannot 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 suddenly 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
 
 3f2 A COMMENTARY UPOX 
 
 due from all the saints to the God of those consolations. This is 
 such an inheritance that the very thoughts and hopes of it are 
 able to sweeten the greatest griefs and afflictions. What then 
 shall the possession of it be, wherein there shall be no rupture, 
 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. 
 
 Isf, Their after inheritance, as in the 4th verse. 2dly, Their 
 present title to it, and assured hojje of it, ver. 3. 3rdly, The 
 immediate 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 first : The inheritance. [But because the fourth 
 verse, Avhich describes it, is linked widi the subsequent, we will 
 not go so far off to return back again, but first speak to this 
 third verse, and in it,] 
 
 Consider 1. Their l^itle to this in'ierifance, — Begotten again , 
 2. Their Assurance of it, viz., a holy or lively liope. 
 
 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 ivrath, heirs 
 a])parcnt of eternal flames. It is an everlasting inheritance too, 
 but so much the more fearful, being of everlasting misery, or 
 (so to speak) of immortal death ; and we are made sure to it, 
 they who remain in that condition cannot lose their right, 
 although they gladly would escape it; they shall be forced to 
 enter possession. But it is by a new and supernatural birth 
 that men are both freed from their engaoement to that woeful 
 inheritance, and invested into the rights of this other, here 
 mentioned, which is as full of happiness as the former is mise- 
 rable: 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 arc the children of 
 an immortal Father, and, as such, entitled to an inheritance of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 33 
 
 immortality: If children, then heirs, heirs of God; and this 
 sonship is by adoption in Christ ; therefore it is added, Joint 
 heirs ivith Christ. Horn. viii. 17. We adopted children, and 
 He the only begotten Son of God by an eternal, ineffable 
 generation. 
 
 And yet, this our adoption is not a mere extrinsical deno- 
 mination, as is adoption amongst men ; but is accompanied 
 with a real change in those that are adopted, a new nature and 
 spirit being infused into them, by reason of which, as they are 
 adopted to this their inheritance in Christ, they are hkewise 
 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 acted and led by it. This is that 
 great mystery of the kingdom of God which puzzled Nicode- 
 mus; it was darkness to him at first, till he was instructed in 
 that night, under the covert whereof he came to Christ. 
 
 Nature cannot conceive of any generation or bu'th, but that 
 which is Avithin its own compass ; only they who are partakers 
 of this spiritual birth understand what it means ; to others it is 
 a riddle, an unsavoury, unpleasant subject. 
 
 It is sometimes ascribed to the subordinate means ; — To Bap- 
 tism, called therefore the laver of regeneration, Tit. iii. 5 ; — 
 To the word of God, James i. 18 ; it is that immortal seed, 
 whereby we are born again ; — To the ministers of this word, and 
 the seals of it, as 1 Cor. iv. 15, For thouyh you have ten 
 thousand instructors in Christ, yet have ye not many Fathers ; 
 for in Christ Jesus I have begotten you through the Gospel. 
 As also, Gal. iv. 19. But all these means have their vigour 
 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 creation : 
 If any wMn be in Christ, he is a new creature, 2 Cor. v. 17. 
 
 Divines have reason to infer from the nature of conversion 
 thus expressed, that man doth not bring any thing to this work 
 himself. It is true he hath a will, as his natural faculty ; but 
 
 Vol. I. D
 
 34 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 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 and yet sweetly, inclines it. 
 
 1, Nature cannot 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. Amoral 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 honourable condition ; add 
 this nobleness to the other, for it far surpasses it ; make it the 
 crown of all your honours 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 
 honour have all his Saints. To as many as received him, he 
 gave this privilege to he the Sons of God, John i. 12, 
 
 Unto a lively hope.'] Now are ive the Sons of God, (saitll 
 the Apostle, 1 John iii. 2,) hut it doth not yet appear ivhat 
 we shall be. These Sons are h.eirs, but all this lifetime is tiieir 
 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 inheritance, 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 uncertain things, or in things that may be certain, after an 
 uncertain manner; all their worldly liopes are tottering, built 
 upon sand, and their hopes of Heaven are but blind and 
 groundless conjectures; but the hope of the sons of the Living
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 35 
 
 God is a living hope. Tiiat 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 cannot die or disappoint them. 
 
 But then it is said to be lively, not only objectively, but 
 effectively ; enlivening and comforting the children of God in 
 all distresses, enabling them to encounter and surmount all 
 difficulties in the Avay. And then it is formally so ; it cannot 
 fail, dies not before accomplishment. Worldly hopes often 
 mock men, and so cause them to be ashamed, and men take it 
 as a great blot, and are most of all ashamed of those things that 
 discover weakness of judgment in them. Now worldly 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 expec- 
 tation to the full, and much beyond it, and deceives no way 
 but in that happy way of far exceeding it. 
 
 A livlmj hope, living in death itself ! The world dares 
 say no more for its device, than Diim spiro spero ; but the 
 children of God can add, by virtue of this living hope, .Du7n 
 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 them ;) but the righteous 
 hath hope in his death. Prov. xiv. 32. Death, which cuts the 
 sinews of all other hopes, and turns men out of all other inhe- 
 ritances, alone fulfils this hope, and ends it in fruition ; as a 
 messenger sent to bring the children of God home to the pos- 
 session of their inheritance. 
 
 D2
 
 36 A COMME"NTARY UPON 
 
 By the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.'\ This 
 refers both to begotten (njain by his resurrection, and having 
 tliis living hope by his resurrection ; and well suits both, it 
 being the proper cause of both, in this order. First, then, of 
 the hirth : 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 birtli in the conception, is expressed by the 
 forming of Christ in the soul, Gal. iv. 19 ; and his resurrec- 
 tion particularly is assigned as the cause of our new life. This 
 new birtli is called our resurrection, and that in conformity to 
 Cln-ist, yea, by the virtue and influence of his. His resurrec- 
 tion is called a hirth, he \he first begotten from the dead, Rev. 
 i. 5; and that prophecy. Thou art my Son, this day leave I 
 begotten thee, Psal. ii. 7, is applied to his resurrection as ful- 
 filled in it, Acts xiii. 33, God hath fulfilled tlie 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 effi- 
 cient cause of our new birth. Thus, in the 6th chapter of 
 Romans, 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 conquered death, and is risen again, and that is implied 
 which followeth, he is set down at the right hand of God, 
 hath entered into possession of that inheritance ; — this gives us 
 a living hope, that, according to his own request, where he is 
 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 any thing in us ; 
 (for if it did, it would be short-lived, M^ould die, and die 
 quickly ;) but on liis resurrection who can die no more : for in 
 that he died, lie 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 ;
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEll. 37 
 
 but it is a firm, stable, inviolable hope, an anchor fixed within 
 the vail. 
 
 According to his abundant mercxj.'] 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 how great love the Father hath showed 
 us, that we should he called the Sons of God ! — The world 
 knows us not, because it knew not Him. They that have not 
 seen the father of a child, cannot 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 firma- 
 ment; to raise the j}oor out of the dunghill, and set them with 
 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 ex- 
 pressed 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 conveyed to us : 
 thus, (Eph. i. 3,) With all spiritual blessings in Christ 
 Jesus. 
 
 Blessed.] He blesseth us really : benefaciendo benedicit.
 
 38 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 We bless liim by acknowledging his goodness. And this we 
 ought to do at all times, (Psal. xxxiv. 1,) I ivill hlesn the 
 Lord at all times, his jyraise shall continually he 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 stammer, rather than be dumb. They 
 who are amongst his children, begotten ayain, have, in the re- 
 surrection of Christ, a lively hope of glory : as it is, (Col. i. 
 27,) Which is Chj-ist 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. "l 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 inward 
 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 humour, but stirs it and 
 makes it more unquiet ; but spiritual joy is seasonable for all 
 estates : in prosperity, it is pertinent 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 cannot do. 
 These songs are sweetest in the night of distress. Therefore 
 the Apostle, 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 remembrance of the 
 happiness laid up for them, under the name of inheritance^ 
 Now this inheritance is described by the singular qualities of 
 it, -Kiz., 1. The excellency of its nature; 2. The certainty of 
 its attainment. The former is conveyed in these three, Licor- 
 riiptiblc, undeflcd, and that fadeth not away ; the latter, in
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER, 30 
 
 the last words of this verse, and in the verse following : Re^ 
 served in heaven for you, &c. 
 
 God is bountifid to all, gives to all men all that tlicy have, 
 health, riches, honour, 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 
 inheritance is peculiarly theirs. Inheritance is convertible 
 with Sonship ; Abraham gave gifts to Keturah's sons, and dis- 
 missed them (Gen. xxv. 5) ; but the inheritance was for the 
 Son of the promise. When we see a man rising in preferment 
 or estate, or admired for excellent gifts or endowments of 
 mind, we think there is a happy man : but Ave consider not 
 that none of all those things are matter of inheritance ; within 
 awhile he is to be turned out of all, and if he have not some- 
 what beyond all those to look to, he is but a miserable man, 
 and so much the more miserable, that once he seemed and was 
 reputed nappy. There is a certain 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 honourable, 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 disobedience, that Ease shall slay 
 them, and their prosperity shall prove their destruction. 
 
 AVhile the children of God are cliildish and weak in faith, 
 they are hke some great heirs before they come to years of un-
 
 40 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 derstanding ; 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 behaviour conformed to it ; 
 but as they grow up in years, they come, by httle 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 arc indeed heirs of glory; — to grow 
 in the understanding and consideration of that which is pre- 
 pared 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, (ch. i. ver. ]8,) The eyes of 
 your understanding being enlightened^ that ye may know 
 what is the hope of his calling, and ivhat 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 whence they look for a Saviour. That we may, then, 
 the better know somewhat of the dignity and riches of this in- 
 heritance, let us consider the description which is here given us 
 of it. And, first. It is 
 
 Incorruptible. 1 Although this seems to be much the same 
 with the third quality. That fadeth not away, (which is a 
 borrowed expression for the illustrating of its incorruptible- 
 ness,) yet I conceive that there is some difference, and that in 
 these three qualities there is a gradation. Thus it is called in- 
 corruptible ; diat is, it perisheth not, cannot come to nothing, 
 is an estate that cannot 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. Flotinus thanked God that his soul was not 
 tied to an immortal body. Then, undefiled ; it is not stained 
 witli the least spot : this signifies 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 always in its integrity. 
 And lastly, it fadeth not away ; it doth not fade nor wither
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 41 
 
 at all, Is not sometimes more, sometimes less pleasant, but ever 
 the same, still like itself; and this constitutes the immuta- 
 bility of it. 
 
 As it is incorruptible, it carries away the palm from all 
 earthly possessions and inheritances ; 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 compara- 
 tive light we are to consider it. For as divines say of the 
 knowledge 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, 
 (^x., so it is of this happiness, this inheritance ; and indeed it is 
 no other than God. We cannot tell you what it is, but we can 
 say so far what it is not, as declares it is unspeakably 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, — In- 
 corruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. 
 
 All things that we see, being compounded, may be dissolved 
 again. The very visible heavens, which are the purest piece 
 of the material world, (notwithstanding the pains the philoso- 
 pher takes to exempt them,) the Scriptures teach us that they 
 are corruptible. Psalm cii. 26 : They shall jyerish, but thou 
 shalt endure ; yea, all of them shall ivax old like a gar- 
 ment ; as a vesture shalt thou change them, and they shall be 
 changed. And from thence the Apostle to the Hebrews, 
 eh. i. ver. 10, and our Apostle in his other Epistle, chap. iii. 
 ver. 11, use the same expression. But it is needless to fetch too 
 great a compass, to evince the corruptiblencss of all inheri- 
 tances. Besides what they arc in themselves, it is a shorter 
 way to prove them corruptible in relation to us and our pos- 
 sessing them, by our own corruptiblencss and corruption, 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 inhe- 
 ritance is so called in regard of succession ; but to every one it
 
 42 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 is at the most but for term of life. As one of the kincs 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 Ave decay and die ; and when a man 
 dies, his inheritances and honours, 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 happiness cannot be 
 upon this earth; because it must be some durable, abiding 
 thing that must make him happy, abiding, to wit, in his en- 
 joyment. 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 imj^eUltur unda, therefore, his rest and his happiness 
 cannot be here. 
 
 Undefiled.'] All possessions here, are defiled and stained 
 Avith many other defects and faihngs ; still somewhat Avanting, 
 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 sto- 
 mach. As the fairest face has some mole or Avart in it, so all 
 possessions are stained with sin, either in acquiring or in using 
 them, and therefore they are called mammon of unricjhteous- 
 nesSf (Luke xvi. 9-) Iniquity is so involved in the notion of 
 riches, that it can very hardly be separated from them. St. 
 Jerome says, Verum mihi videtur illud, dives aut iniquus 
 est, aut iniqui hcsres : To me it appears, that he who is rich is 
 cither himself an unjust man, or the heir of one. Foul hands 
 pollute all they touch ; it is our sin that defiles Avhat Ave pos- 
 sess ; it is sin that burdens the Avhole creation, and presses 
 groans out of the very frame of the Avorld, (Rom. viii. 22,) For 
 ice know that the whole creation groaneth and fravaileth in 
 pain together until now. This our leprosy defiles our houses, 
 the very Avails and floors, our meat and drink and all avc touch,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF TETER. 43 
 
 polluted when alone, and polluted in society, our meetings and 
 conversations together 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. Wc 
 readily turn the things we possess here to occasions and instru- 
 ments of sin, and think there is no liberty nor delight in their 
 use without abusing them. How few arc 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 covetous- 
 ness, and ease without wantonness ! 
 
 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 posses- 
 sion, this same meum and teum, divide many times the affec- 
 tions of those who are knit together in nature, or other 
 strict ties, and prove the very apple of strife betwixt nearest 
 friends ? 
 
 If we trace great estates to their first original, how few will 
 be found that owe not their beginning either to fraud, or 
 rapine, or oppression ! And the greatest empires and kingdoms 
 in the world, have had their foundations laid in blood. Are 
 not these defiled inheritances ? 
 
 That withereth not.^ A borrowed phrase, alluding to the 
 decaying of plants and flowers, 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 possessions and all 
 things worldly, that they abide not in one estate, but are in a 
 more uncertain 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
 
 44 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 from all those evils. It falls not under the stroke of time, 
 comes not within the compass of its scythe, which hath so large 
 a compass, and cuts down all other things. 
 
 There is nothing in it weighing it towards 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 pw^ on incorriiption, as 
 the Apostle speaks, 1 Cor. xv. 54. 
 
 It fadeth not away.] No spot of sin nor sorrow there; all 
 pollution Aviped away, and all tears with it ; no envy nor strife ; 
 not as here among men, one supplanting 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 amongst 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 
 (1 Pet. V. 4) A crown of glory that fadeth not away. 
 
 No change at all there, no winter and summer : not like the 
 ]ioor 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 comforts. Suavis hora, sed 
 hrovis 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 ; they 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 nmsic, if it were 
 to be heard but for one whole day, Avould weary them who are 
 most delighted Milh it. What we have here cloys, but satis- 
 fies not; the joys above never cloy, and yet always satisfy.
 
 THE rmST EPISTLE OF PETER. 45 
 
 We should here consider the last property of this inheritance, 
 
 namely, the certaintij 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 them- 
 selves ; we should not need add any entreaties to 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 amongst them .'' Is it not time 
 to consider whether we be provided with any thing surer and 
 better than what we have here ; whether we have any inherit- 
 ance 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 buildiny of God, 
 an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
 
 If these things gain our assent while we hear them, yet it 
 dies soon. Scarcely any retire within themselves afterwards to 
 pursue those thoughts, and to make a work indeed of them ; 
 they busy their heads rather another way, building castles in the 
 air, and spinning out their thoughts in vain contrivances. — 
 Happy are they whose hearts the Spirit of God sets and fixes 
 upon this inheritance : they may join in with the Apostle, and 
 say, as here. Blessed he the God and Father of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, who hath begotten us again unto this lively 
 hope, to this inheritance incorruptible, undefled, and that 
 fadeth not aivay. 
 
 Ver. 5. Who are kept by the power of God, through faith, unto salvation, 
 ready to be revealed in the last time. 
 
 It is doubtless a great contentment to the children of God, 
 to hear of the excellencies of the life to come ; they do not use 
 to become weary of that subject ; yet there is one doubt, which, 
 if it be not removed, may damp their delight in hearing and 
 considering of all the rest. The richer the estate is, it will the 
 more kindle the malice and diligence of their enemies to deprive 
 them of it, and to cut them short of possessing it.. And this
 
 46 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 they know, that those spiritual powers who seek to ruin them, 
 do overmatch them far, both in craft and force. 
 
 Against the fears of this, the Apostle comforts the heirs of 
 salvation, assuring them, that, as the estate they look for is 
 excellent, so it is certain and safe, laid up Avhere it is out of the 
 reacli of all adverse powers, reserved 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 Avorld, 
 namely, in Heaven for you, where notliing that is impure once 
 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 
 lieth, it hath also this privilege, to be the only land of rest and 
 peace, free from all possibility 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 scat 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 neither is it in dan- 
 ger of fraud or violence. When our Savioiu' speaks of this 
 same happiness, in a like term. Matt, vi. 20, what is here called 
 an inheritance, is there called a treasure. He expresses the 
 permanency of it by tliese two, that it Jiufh neither moth nor 
 rust in itself to corrupt it, nor can thieves break throiujli and 
 steal it. There is a worm at the root of all our enjoyments 
 here, corrupting causes within themselves ; and besides that, 
 they are exposed to injury from without, which may deprive us of 
 them. How many stately palaces, which liave been possibly divers 
 years in building, hath fire, upon a very small beginning, de- 
 stroyed in a few hours ! What great hopes of gain by trafl^c 
 hath one tempest mocked and disappointed ! How many who 
 have tliought their possessions very sure, yet have lost them 
 by some trick of law, and' odicrs (as in time of war) been
 
 THE FIRST F.riSTLE OF PETER. 47 
 
 driven from tlicm by the sword ! Notliing free from all danger 
 but this inheritance, which 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 arc but mountains of prey, 
 one robbing and spoiling another : but in that holy mountain 
 above, there is none to hurt, or spoil, or oifcr 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 propriety, that it is ours ; that we do not speak and hear of 
 it, as travellers passing by a pleasant place do behold and dis- 
 course of its fair structure, the sweetness of the seat, the plant- 
 ing, the gardens, the meadows that are about it, and so pass on, 
 having no further interest in it. But when we hear of this 
 glorious 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 ; I have received the evidences, 
 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 
 certainty that completes the comforts of it. (Ephes, i. 14.) 
 
 The salvation which Christ hath purchased is, indeed, laid 
 up in Heaven, but we who seek after it are on earth, com- 
 passed about with dangers and temptations. What avails it 
 us, that our salvation is in Heaven, in the place of safety and 
 quietness, while we ourselves are tossed upon the stormy seas 
 of this world, amidst rocks and shelves, every hour in danger 
 of shipwreck ? Our inheritance is in a sure hand indeed, our 
 enemies cannot come at it ; but they may over-run and destroy 
 us at their pleasure, for we are in the midst of them. Thus nu'ght 
 we think and complain, and lose the sweetness of all our other 
 thoughts concerning Heaven, if there were not as firm a pro- 
 mise 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
 
 48 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 sureiy jyreserved to it. There is here, 1, The estate itself, saL 
 vatlun. 2. The j^reservation, or securing, of those that expect 
 it, kept. 3. The time of full possession, in the last time. 
 
 1st, The estate — Unto salvation. Before it is called an inhe- 
 ritance ; 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 guilti- 
 ness ; — 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 afflictions 
 of this life. To have the perfection of grace in the fulness of 
 holiness, and the perfection of bliss in the fulness of joy, in the 
 continual vision of God ! — but how little we are able to say of 
 this, our Apostle here teachetli us, in that it is vailed to us ; 
 only so much shines through as we are capable of here ; but 
 the revealed knowledge of it is only in the possession ; it is to 
 be revealed 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 safely, but in quietness. The children of God, for 
 whom it is kept, while they arc here, are kept safe indeed, 
 but not unmolested 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 Saviour poured out for 
 them, (John xvii. IC,) / pray not that thou shoiddest take 
 them out of the world: but that thou shouldesf 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 because once 
 they were uiuler iiis yoke, he bestirs himself to pursue them, 
 wlicii they ;uv led forth from their caplivity, as Pharaoh, with
 
 THE riRST F.PIflTLF- OF TETKIl. 49 
 
 all his chariots and hovses and horsemen, pursues after the 
 Israelites goini^ out of Egypt. 
 
 The word in the original ((p^of/joy/x,svoi) here translated kept, 
 is a military term, used for those who are kept as in a fort or 
 garrison-town besieged. So Satan is still raising batteries 
 against this fort, using all ways to take it, by strength or stra- 
 tagem, vmwearicd in his assaults, and very skilful to know his 
 advantages, and where we are weakest, there to set on. And 
 besides all this, he hath intelligence witii a party within us, 
 ready to betray us to him ; so that it were 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 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 our ivalls and bul- 
 warks. We ought to watch, but when we do so in obedience 
 to our commander, the Captain of our salvation, yet it is His 
 own watching, who sleep)s not, nor so much as slumbers, it is 
 that preserves us, and makes ours not to be in vain. — (Psal. 
 :xxvi. 1 ; Isa. xxvii. 3.) And therefore those two are jointly 
 commanded. Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation. 
 IVatch, 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 effectually preserved, and that power is 
 our fort, Isa. xxvi. 1 : Salvation hath God appointed for 
 walls and bulwarks. What more safe than to be walled with 
 Salvation itself? So, Prov. xviii. 10, The name of the Lord 
 is a strong tower ; the righteous fly into it and are safe. 
 
 Now the causes of our preservation are two: 1. Supreme, 
 The 2^ower of God. 2. Subordinate, Faith. The supreme 
 power of God, is that on which depend our stability and 
 perseverance. When we consider how weak \vc are in our- 
 selves, 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 guarded, the power of God, then we see the reu- 
 Vol. I. K
 
 50 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 son of our stability to tlie end ; for Omnipotency supports us, 
 and the everlasting arms are under us. 
 
 Then Faith is the second cause of our preservation; because 
 it applies the first cause, the power of God. Our faitli lays 
 liold upon 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-confi- 
 dence and vain presuming in its own strength, is exposed to 
 all kind of danger. Faith is an humble, self-denying grace ; 
 it 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 enemy, if 
 they were alone, yet so long as the place wherein they are is of 
 sufficient strength, and well manned, and every way acommo- 
 date to hold out, they are in safety : thus the weakest believer 
 is safe, because, by believing, he is within the strongest of all 
 defences. Faith is the victory, and Christ sets his strength 
 against Satan's ; and when the Christian is hard beset with 
 some temptation, too strong for himself, then he looks up to 
 Him who is the great conqueror of the powers of darkness, and 
 calls to him, "Now, Lord, assist thy servant in this encounter, 
 and put to thy strength, that the glory may be thine." Thus, 
 faith is such an engine as draws in the power of God and his 
 son Jesus, 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 tlie power 
 of God, and to have high thoughts of it ; and therefore it is his 
 ])rivilcge to find safety in that power. David cannot satisfy 
 himself with one or two expressions of it, but delights in mul- 
 tiplying them : (Psalm xviii. 1,) The Lord is my rock, and my 
 jortrcss, and my deliverer ; my God, my strength, in whom I 
 will trust ; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my 
 high tower. Faith looks above all, both that which the soul 
 hath and that which it wants, and answers all doubts and fears 
 with this almighty power upon which it rests. 
 
 3(//y. The time of full possession — Ready to be revealed iii
 
 THE TTRST RnsTI.K OF rETF.rv. t)l 
 
 fho hiftt time. This salvation is tluit great work \vhcroin (lod 
 intoiulod to nianlfost the glory of his grace, contrived before 
 time, and in the several ages of the world bronght forward, 
 after the decreed manner ; and the full accom])lishnient of it is 
 reserved for the end of time. 
 
 The souls of the fiiithful do enter into the possession of it, 
 when they remove from their houses of clay ; yet is not their 
 ha])piness complete till that great day of the api)earing of Jesus 
 Christ. They are naturally imperfect till their bodies be 
 raised and rejoined to their souls, to partake together of then* 
 bliss ; and they arc 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 
 own bodies, and the mystical body of Christ shall be gkirified; 
 when all the children of that glorious liimily shall meet, and 
 sit down to that great marriage supper at their Father's table. 
 Then shall the music of that new song be full, Avhen there is 
 not one wanting of those that are appointed to sing it for eter- 
 nity. In that clay shall our Lord Jesus be (jlorified in his 
 Saints, and admired in all them that helieve, (2 Thess. i. 10.) 
 You see what it is that the Gospel offers you , and you may 
 gather how great both your folly and your guiltiness will be, 
 if you neglect 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 alms at, and yet, who heai-kens to 
 it ? How few lay hold on this eternal hfe, this inheritance, this 
 crown that is held forth to all that hear of it ! 
 
 Oh ! that you could be persuaded to be saved, that you 
 would be willing 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 
 j)ut on holy resolutions to break through them, and trample 
 them imder foot, and take this kingdom by a hand of violence, 
 which God is so well pleased widi. lie is willingly overcome 
 by that force, and gives this kingdom most Millingly, where it 
 
 £2
 
 5f2 A co^rMRNTAiiY urox 
 
 is so taken : It is not attained by slothfulness, and sitting still 
 Avith folded liands ; it must be invaded with strength of faith, 
 Avith armies of prayers and tears ; and they who set upon it 
 thus are sure to take it. 
 
 Consider wliat we are doing, how we misplace 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 in- 
 lieritance, your treasure, be on high, which is by far the richest 
 and the safest J and if it be so with you, then, Where ijour 
 treasure is, tliere will your hearts be also. 
 
 Ver. 6. Wherein ye gi'eatly rejoice, though now for a season (if need be) 
 ye are in heaviness tln-ough manifold temptations. 
 
 The same motives cannot beget contrary passions in tlie soul : 
 therefore the Apostle reduces the mixture of sorrowing and 
 rejoicing that is usual in the heart of a Christian, to the dif- 
 ferent 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 spiritual joy in his 
 afflicted brethren ; and therefore, having set the matter of it 
 bcfoi'e them in the preceding verses, he now applies it, and ex- 
 pressly opposes it to their distresses. 
 
 Some read these words exhortatively, In ivJiich rejoice ye. 
 It is so intended, but I conceive it serves that end better indi- 
 catively, as we now read it, In which ye rejoice. It exhorts in 
 a more insinuating and persuasive manner that it may be so, to 
 urge it on them, that it is so. Thus St. Paul, (Actsxxvi. 27,) 
 King Agrippa, believcst thou the prophets ? I know that thou 
 hcUevesf, And straight he answered, Thou almost persuadest
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK. 53 
 
 me to be a Chnslian. 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 rcj6"ice. Certainly, if you know and 
 consider Avhat the causes of your joy are, ye cannot choose but 
 find it within you, and in such a measure as to swallow up all 
 your temporary 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 tempta- 
 tions. The habits of Divine supernatural grace are not ac- 
 quirable by human 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 se- 
 veral conditions and occurrences of a Christian's life, and by 
 that they grow stronger. Whatsoever oppositions or difficul" 
 ties 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 word, 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 him- 
 self: all these are several acceptations of this word; but the 
 temptations here meant, are the things by which men are 
 tempted, and particularly the saints of God. And though there 
 is nothing in the words, that may not agree to all sorts of temp- 
 tations which the godly are subject to, yet I conceive it is par- 
 ticularly meant of their afflictions and distresses, as the Apostle 
 James likewise uses it, chap. i. ver. 2. 
 
 And they ai*e so called, because they give particular and no- 
 table proof of the temper of a Christian's spirit, and draw 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 them-
 
 5i . A CQMMENTAllY Ul'OX 
 
 selves to depend upon Another for more strength and better 
 success in after-encounters. If they acquit themselves like Chris- 
 tians indeed, (the Lord managing and assisting that grace which 
 be hath given them,) then all their valour, 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 with such difficulties as require faith, and 
 Christian fortitude, 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 contradicts or crosses him ? But v/hen somewhat sets upon 
 liim, that is in itself very unpleasant and grievous to him, and 
 yet, if in that case he retains his moderation of spirit, and flies 
 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 m hile 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 befal them hereafter, though they have not as yet met with 
 them ; to labour to overcome them beforehand, to suppose 
 the hardest things that may be incident to them, and to put on 
 the strongest resolutions they can attain unto. Yet all that is 
 l)ut 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) /br^es 
 in tabula^ patient and courageous in ])icture 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 children of Ephraim being armed, and 
 carrying bows, (says the Psalmist, Psal. Ixxviii. 9,) yet turned 
 hack ill the day of hulile. It is the battle that tries the 
 soldier, and the storm the pilot. How would it appear that 
 Clu-istians can be themselves, not only patient, but cheerful ia
 
 THE FIRST El'ISTLE OF PETER. j^^ 
 
 ])overty, in disgrace, and temptations, and persecutions, if it 
 wex-e 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 of his children. For the word of 
 God speaks to men, and therefore it speaks the language of the 
 children of men: thus, Gen. xxii. 12. Now I know that thou 
 fearest 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 valour 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 counterfeit 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 invin- 
 cible 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 
 overcome it by his strength. Some men take delight to see 
 some kind of beasts fight together ; but to see a Christian mind 
 encountering some great affliction, and conquering it, to see his 
 valour in not sinking at the hardest distresses of this life, nor 
 the most frightful end of it, the cruellest kinds of death, for 
 His sake, — this is (as one said) diynum Deo spectacidiim ; 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 expresses a multi- 
 tude 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 betwixt ; but to be jilied
 
 56 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 MJth one affliction at the heels of anotlier, to have them conic 
 thronging in by muhitudcs and of different kinds, uncouth, 
 unaccustomed evils, such as a man hath not been acquainted 
 ^\lih before, this is that which is often the portion of those who 
 are the beloved of God : Psal. xlii. 7, Deej^ calleth unto deep, 
 at the noise of thy ivuter-spouts ; all thy waves and thy 
 hillows are gone over me. 
 
 Ye are in heaviness.'] This the Apostle blames not, but 
 aims at the moderating of it. Seek not altogether to dry up 
 this stream, but to bound it, and keep it within its banks 
 Grace doth not destroy the life of nature, but adds to it a life 
 more excellent ; yea, grace doth not only permit, but requires 
 some feeling of afflictions. There is an affected pride of spirit 
 in some men, instead of patience, suitable only to the doctrine 
 of the Stoics as it is usually taken ; they strive not to feel at all 
 the afflictions that are on them ; but this is to despise the cor- 
 rection of the Lord, which is alike forbidden with fainting 
 \mder it, Heb. xii. 5. We should not stop our hears, but hear 
 the rod, and him that hath appointed it, as the Prophet 
 speaks, Mic. vi. 9. Where there is no feeling at all, there can 
 be no patience. Consider it as the hand of God, and thence 
 argue the soul into submission, Psal. xxxix. 9, / was dumb, 
 I opened not my mouth, because thou didst it. Bu,t this 
 heaviness is mitigated, and set, as it were, within its banks, 
 betwixt these two considerations, 1. The idilily, 9.. The 
 brevity of it : the profitableness — and the shortness of it. 
 
 To a worldly man, great gain sweetens the hardest labour ; 
 and to a Christian, spiritual profit and advantage may do nuich 
 to move him to take those afflictions well Avhich arc otherwise 
 very unpleasant. Though they are not joyous for the present, 
 yet this allays the sorrow of then), the fruit that grows out of 
 them, tJtat peaceable fruit of riyhleonsness, Ileb. xii, 11. 
 
 A bundle of folly is in the heart (f a child, hvt the rod of 
 correction shall beat it out, saith Solomon. Though the 
 children of God are truly (as our Saviour calls them) the 
 children of wisdom, yet, being renewed only in part, they are
 
 THK FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 57 
 
 not altogether free from those folKes that call for this rod to 
 beat them out, and sometimes have such a bundle of follies as 
 require a bundle of rods to be spent upon it — many and matiL 
 fold afflictions. 
 
 It is not an easy matter to be drawn from, nor to be beaten 
 from, the love of this world, and this is what God mainly re- 
 quires of his children, that they be not in love with the world, 
 nor the things of it ; for that is contrary to the love of God, 
 and so far as that is entertained, this is wanting. And if in the 
 midst of afflictions they are sometimes subject to this disease, 
 how w^ould it grow upon them with ease and prosperity ! When 
 they are beaten from one worldly folly or delight, they are 
 ready, through nature's corruption, to lay hold ujion some 
 other, — being thrust out from it at one door, to enter at some 
 other: as children unwilling to be weaned, if one breast be 
 imbittered, they seek to the other ; and therefore there must 
 be somewhat to drive them from that too. Thus it is clear 
 there is need, great need of afflictions, yea, of many afflictions, 
 that the Saints be chastened by the Lord, that they may not 
 be condemned ivith the world. (1 Cor. xi. 32.) 
 
 Many resemblances there are for illustration of this truth, in 
 things both of nature and of art, some common, and others 
 choicer ; but these are not needful. The experience of Chris- 
 tians tells them how easily they grow proud, and secure, and 
 carnal, with a little ease, and when outward things go smoothly 
 with them ; and therefore what unhappiness were it for them 
 to be very happy that way ! 
 
 Let us learn, then, that in regard of our present frailty 
 there is need of afflictions, and so not promise ourselves ex- 
 emption, how calm soever our seas are for the present ; and 
 then for the number, and measure, and weight of them, to re- 
 sign that wholly into the hands of our wise Father and Phy- 
 sician, who perfectly knows our mould and our maladies, and 
 what kind and quantity of chastisement is needful for our 
 cure. 
 
 Thoiujh now for a season {if need be) ye are in Jicavl-
 
 0S A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 ,?iei'*.] The other consideration wliich moderates this heavi- 
 ness is its shortness. Because we wilhngly forget eternity, 
 therefore this moment seems much in our eyes : but if we could 
 look upon it aright, of how little concernment is it what be our 
 condition here I If it were as prosperous as we could wish or 
 imagine, it is but for a. little season. The rich man in the 
 Gospel talked of many years, but Thou fool, this nifjht shall 
 thy soul be required of thee, was the longest period. The 
 jnany years are quickly drawn to a very great abatement, and 
 if full of pains and griefs, those do help to put an end to them- 
 selves, and hasten to it. Well then might St. Austin say, Hic 
 ure^ ccEcle, modu ibi jyarcas, Use me here as pleasetli thee, so 
 as that hereafter it may be well with me. 
 
 Wherein.'] This word, though it cannot fall amiss, being 
 referred to any particular to which interpreters have appro- 
 priated it, yet it is rather to be taken as relative to the whole 
 complex sense of the preceding verses, concerning the hope of 
 glory. In this thing ye rejoice, that ye are begotten again, — 
 that there is such an inheritance, and that you are made heirs 
 of it, — that it is kept for you, and you for it, — that nothing 
 can come betwixt you and it, to disappoint you of possessing 
 and enjoying it, — that though there be many deserts, and 
 mountains, and seas in the way, yet you are ascertained that 
 you shall come safe thither. 
 
 This is but one thing, while the cause of your grief is temp- 
 iations, and manifold temptations, yet this one thing weighs 
 down all that multitude. The heart being grieved in one 
 thing naturally looks out for its ease to some other ; and there 
 is usually somewhat that is a man's great comfort, that he 
 turns his thoughts to, when he is crossed and afflicted in other 
 things : but herein lies the folly of the world, that the things 
 they choose for their refuge and comfort arc such as may 
 change themselves, and turn into discomfort and sorrow ; but 
 the godly man, who is the fool in the natural man's eyes, goes 
 beyond all the rest in his wise dioice in this. He rises above 
 all that is subject to change, casts his anchor within the vail.
 
 THE l-'IRST El'ISTLE OF I'ETER. 59 
 
 That ill which he rcjoiccth is still matter of joy uninoveablc 
 and unalterable; although not only his estate, but the whole 
 world were turned upside down, yet this is the same, or rather 
 in the Psalmist's words, Though the earth were removed, and 
 the greatest mountains cast into the sea, yet will not ive fear. 
 (Psal. xlvi. 2.) When we shall receive that rich and pure and 
 abiding inheritance, that salvation which shall be revealed in 
 the last time, and when time itself shall cease to be, then there 
 shall be no more reckoning of our joys by days and hours, but 
 they shall run parallel with eternity. Then all our love, that 
 is now scattered and parcelled out upon the vanities amongst 
 which we are here, shall be united and gathered into one, and 
 fixed upon God, and the soul filled with the delight of his pre- 
 sence. 
 
 The sorrow was limited and bounded by the considerations 
 we spoke of; but this joy, this exultation, and leaping for joy 
 (for so it is) is not bounded, it cannot be too much ; its mea- 
 sure is, to know no measure. The afflictions, the matter of 
 heaviness, are but a transient touch of pain ; but that whereon 
 this joy is built is most permanent — the measure of it cannot 
 exceed, for the matter of it is infinite and eternal, beyond all 
 hyperbole. There is no expression we have which can reach 
 it, much less go beyond it ; itself is the hyperbole, still sur- 
 passing all that can be said of it. Even in the midst of hea- 
 viness itself, such is this joy that it can maintain itself in the 
 depth of sorrow ; this oil of gladness still swims above, and 
 cannot be drowned by all the floods of affliction, yea it is often 
 most sweet in the greatest distress. The soul relishes spiritual 
 joy best, when it is not glutted witli worldly delights, but finds 
 them turned into bitterness. 
 
 For application. In that Ave profess ourselves Christians, 
 we all pretend to be the sons of God, and so heirs of this 
 glory ; and if each man were individually asked, he would say 
 he hoped to attain it : but were there nothing else, this might 
 abundantly convince us that the greatest part of us delude 
 ourselves, and are deceived in this j for how few are there who
 
 ()0 A COMMENTARY UTON 
 
 do really find this height of joy, of gladness and exultation, in 
 their thoughts and hopes of it, who do daily refresh and glad 
 themselves with the consideration of what is laid up for them 
 above, more than with all their enjoyments here below ! 
 
 Consider how the news of some small outward advantage 
 that is to come to us raises our light, vain liearts, and makes 
 them leap within us ; and yet this news of a kingdom prepared 
 for us (if we be indeed behevers) stirs us not ; our hearts are 
 as little affected with it as if it concerned us not at all : and 
 this is too clear an evidence against us that indeed it concerns 
 us not, that our portion as yet is not in it. 
 
 In what a fool's paradise will men be with the thoughts of 
 worthless things, and such things too as they shall never ob- 
 tain, nor ever shall have any further being than what they 
 have in their fancy ! And how will men frequently roll over in 
 their minds the thoughts of any pleasing good they hope for ! 
 And yet we, who say we have the hopes of the glory to come, can 
 pass many days without one hour spent in the rejoicing thoughts 
 of the happiness we look for ! If any person of a mean con- 
 dition for the present, were made sure to become very rich and 
 be advanced to great honour Avithin a week, and after that to 
 live to a great age in that high estate, enjoying health and all 
 imaginable pleasures ; judge ye, whether in the few days be- 
 twixt the knowledge of those news and the enjoying of them, 
 the thoughts of what he were to attain to would not be fre- 
 quent with him, and be always welcome. There is no com- 
 parison betwixt all w^e can imagine this way, and the hopes we 
 speak of; and yet, how seldom are our thoughts upon those 
 things, and how faint and slender is our rejoicing in them ! 
 Can we deny that it is unbelief of these things that causeth 
 this neglect and forgetting of them ? The discourse, the 
 tongue of men and angels cannot beget Divine belief of the 
 liappiness to come ; only He who gives it, gives faith likewise 
 to apprehend it, and lay hold upon it, and, u{)on our believing, 
 to be filled with joy in the hopes of it.
 
 THE FIItST r.riSlLK OF rKTKU. CI 
 
 Ver. 7. Tliat tlie trial of your faith beinsi^ much more precious than of 
 gold that perisheth, though it be tried with tire, might be found unto 
 praise, and honour, and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. 
 
 7" HE way of the just (saith Solomon) is as the shining light, 
 that shineth more and more to the j^erfect day. Still making 
 forward, and ascending towards perfection, moving as fast 
 when they are clouded with affliction as at any time else ; yea, 
 all that seems to work against them, furthers them. Those 
 graces that would possibly grow heavy and imwieldy, by too 
 much ease, are held in breath, and increase their activity and 
 strength by conflict. Divine grace, even in the heart of weak 
 and sinful man, is an invincible thing. Drown it in the waters 
 of adversity, it rises more beautiful, as not being drowned in- 
 deed, but only washed ; throw it into the furnace of fiery 
 trials, it comes out purer, and loses nothing but the dross 
 which our corrupt nature mixes with it. Thus the Apostle 
 here expounds the if need be of the former verse, and so justi- 
 fies the joy in afflictions, which there he speaks of, by their 
 utility and the advantage faith derives from them : it is so 
 tried, that it shall appear in its full brightness at the revelation 
 of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The peculiar treasure of a Christian being the grace which 
 he receives from Heaven, and particularly that sovereign grace 
 of Faith, whatsoever he can be assured will better him any 
 way in this, he will not only bear patiently, but gladly em- 
 brace it. (See Rom. v. 3.) Therefore the Apostle sets this 
 before his brethren in those words of this verse which express, 
 1. The worth and excellency of faith; 2, The usefulness of 
 temptations in relation to it. 
 
 1st, The worth and excellency of faith. The trial of faith 
 is called more jrrecious, a work of more worth than the trial of 
 gold, because faith itself is of more value than gold. The 
 Apostle chooses this comparison, as fitting his purpose for the 
 illustration of both, — the worth of faith, and likewise the use
 
 62 A COMAIENTARY UPON 
 
 -•f temptations, representing tlie one by gold, and the otlier by 
 the trying of gold in the fire. 
 
 The worth of gold is, 1. Ileal, the purest and most precious 
 of all metals, having many excellent properties beyond them, 
 as they who M'rite of the nature of gold observe. 2. Far 
 greater in the esteem and opinion of men. See how men hurry 
 up and down, over sea and land, unwearied in their pursuit, 
 with hazard of life, and often with the loss of uprightness and 
 a good conscience ; and not only thus esteem it in itself, but 
 make it the rule of their esteem one of another, valuing men 
 less or more as they are more or less furnished with it. And 
 we see at what a height this is ; for things we would commend 
 much, we borrow its name to describe them, e. g., Golden me- 
 diocrity ; and that age which they would call the best of all, 
 they name it the Golden Age ; and as Seneca observes, describ- 
 ing heavenly things, (as Ovid the sun's palace and chariot,) 
 still Gold is the word for all. 
 
 And the Holy Scriptures, descending to our reach, do set 
 forth the riches of the new Jerusalem by it, (Rev. xxi.,) and 
 the excellency of Christ, (Cant. v. 11, 14.) And here, the pre- 
 ciousness of faith, whereof Christ is the object, is said to be 
 more prerAoiis than gold. 
 
 I will not insist in the parallel of faith with gold, in the 
 other qualities of it, — as that it is pure and solid as gold, and 
 that it is most ductile, and malleable as gold ; beyond all other 
 metals, it plies any Avay with the will of God. But then faith 
 truly enriches the soul ; and as gold answers all things, so 
 faith gives the soul propriety in all the rich consolations of the 
 gospel, in all the promises of life and salvation, in all needful 
 blessings ; it draws virtue from Christ to strengthen itself, and 
 all other graces. 
 
 And thus it is not only precious as gold, but goes far above 
 the comparison ; it is more precious, yea, much more precious, 
 1. In its original : the other is digged out of the bowels of the 
 earth ; but the mine of this gold is above, it comes from hea- 
 ven. 9^. In its nature, answerable to its original, it is innnate-
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF lETEU. 63 
 
 rial, spiritual, and pure. We refine gold and make it purer, but 
 when we receive faith pure in itself, we mix dross with it, and 
 make it impure by the alloy of unbelief. 3. In its endurance, 
 flowing from the former ; it perisheth not. Gold is a thing in 
 itself corruptible and perishing, and to particular owners it 
 perisheth in their loss of it, they being deprived of it in any way. 
 
 Other graces are likewise tried in the same furnace ; but 
 Faith is named as the root of all the rest. Sharp afflictions 
 give a Christian a trial of his love to God, whether it be single, 
 and for himself or not ; for then it will be the same when he 
 strikes as when he embraces, and in the fire of affliction will 
 rather grow the hotter, and be more taken off from the world, 
 and set upon him. Again, the grace of patience is put parti- 
 cularly upon trial in distresses. But both these spring from 
 Faith ; for love rises from a right and strong belief of the 
 goodness of God, and patience from a persuasion of thewisdorr 
 and love of God, and the truth of his promises. He hath 
 said, / will not fail thee, and that we shall not be tempted 
 above our strength, and he will give the issue. Now the belier 
 of these things causes patience : The trial of faith worketh 
 patience. (James i. 3.) For therefore doth the Christian 
 resign up himself, and all that concerns him, his trials, the mea- 
 sure and length of them all, imto God's disposal, because he 
 knows that he is in the ' hands of a wise and loving father. 
 Thus the trial of these and other particular graces doth still 
 resolve into this, and is comprised under the trial of faith. 
 This brings us, 
 
 9>dly. To the usefulness of temptations in relation to it. 
 
 This trial (as that of gold) may be for a two-fold end. 
 1. For experiment of the truth and pureness of a Christian's 
 faith. 2. To refine it yet more, and to raise it to a higlier 
 pitch or degree of pureness. 
 
 1. The furnace of affliction shows upright, real faith to be 
 such indeed, remaining still the same even in the fire, the same 
 that it was, undiminished, as good gold loses none.of its quantity 
 in the fire. Doubtless many are deceived, in time of ease and'
 
 c* 
 
 A COMMENTARY UPOX 
 
 prosperity, with imaginary faitli and fortitude : so that ilierc 
 may be still some doubt, while a man is underset with outward 
 helps, as riches, friends, esteem, &c., whether he leans upon 
 those, or upon God, who is an invisible support, though 
 stronger than all that are visible, and is the peculiar and alone 
 stay of faith in all conditions. But when all these outward 
 props are plucked away from a man, then it will be manifest 
 whether something else upholds him or not ; for if there be 
 nothing else, then he falls ; but if his mind stands firm and 
 unremoved as before, then it is evident he laid not his weight 
 upon these things which he had then about him, but was built 
 upon a foundation, though not seen, which is able alone to stay 
 liim, although he be not only frustrated of all other supports, 
 but beaten upon with storms and tempests ; as our Saviour 
 says, the house fell not, because it was founded on a rock, 
 (Matt. vii. 25). 
 
 This testified the truth of David's faith, who found it stay 
 his mind upon God, when there was nothing else near that 
 could do it; I had fainted, unless I had believed. (Psal. xxvii. 
 13.) So in his strait, (1 Sam. xxx. 6,) where it is said, that 
 David ivas greatly distressed ; but he encouraged himself in 
 the Lord his God. Thus, Psal. Ixxxiii. 2C, Mg flesh and my 
 heart faileth ; but God is the strength of my heart, and my por- 
 tion for ever. The heart's natural strength of spirit and reso- 
 lution may bear up under outward weakness, or the failing of 
 the flesh ; but when the heart itself fails, which is the strenodi 
 of the fxcsh, what shall strengthen it ? nothing but God, ivho is 
 the strength of the heart, and its portion for ever. Thus faith 
 worketh alone, when the case suits that of the Prophet's, 
 (Hab. iii. 17,) Although the fig-tree shall not Ijlossom, neither 
 shall fruit be in the vine, &c., yet, I will rejoice in the Lord, 
 I will joy in the God of my salvation. 
 
 In spiritual trials, which are the sharpest and most fiery of 
 all, when the furnace is within a man, when God doth not 
 only shut up his loving-kindness from his feeling, but seems 
 to sluit U up iu jiot displeasure, when he writes bitter things
 
 TirK FIRST EriSTLE OF PETEU. u5 
 
 against him, yet then to depend upon liiui, and wait for iiis 
 salvation, and the more he smites, the more to cleave to him,— 
 this is not only a true, but a strong, and very refined faith in- 
 deed. Well might Iw say, IVhen I am tried I shall come 
 forth as gold, who could say that word, Though he slay me, 
 yet will I trust in him : though I saw, as it were, his hand 
 lifted up to destroy me, yet from that same hand would I ex- 
 pect salvation. 
 
 2. As the furnace shows faith to be what it is, so also it 
 betters it, and makes it more precious and purer than it was. 
 
 The graces of the Spirit, as they come from the hand of 
 God who infuses them, are nothing but pureness ; but being 
 put into a heart where sin dwells, (which till the body be dis- 
 solved and taken to pieces, cannot be fully purged out,) there 
 they are mixed with corruption and dross : and particularly 
 faith is mixed with unbelief, and love of earthly things, and 
 dependance upon the creature, if not more than God, yet toge- 
 ther with him ; and for this is the furnace needful, that the 
 soul may be purified from this dross, and made more sublime 
 and spiritual in believing. It is a hard task, and many times 
 conTCS but slowly forward, to teach the heart, by discourse and 
 speculation, to sit loose from the world at all sides, not to 
 cleave to the best things in it, though we be compassed about 
 with them, though riches do increase, yet not to set our hearts 
 On them, Psal. Ixii. 10, not to trust in such uncertain things 
 as they are, as the Apostle speaks, 1 Tim. vi. 17. Therefore 
 God is pleased to choose the more effectual way to teach his 
 own the right and pure exercise of faith, either by withholding 
 or withdrawina; those thinos from them. He makes them 
 relish the sweetness of spiritual comfort, by depriving them of 
 those outward comforts Avhereon they were in most danger to 
 have doated to excess, and so to have forgotten themselves and 
 him. When they are reduced to necessity, and experimentally 
 trained up easily to let go their hold of any thing earthly, and 
 to stay themselves only upon their rock, this is the very refin- 
 ing of their faith, by those losses and afflictions wherewith they 
 
 Vol. I. F
 
 6C) A COMMENTARY urON 
 
 arc exercised. They who learn bodily exercises, as fencing, &c., 
 are not taught by sitting still, and hearing rules, or seeing 
 others practise, but they learn by exercising themselves. The 
 way to profit in the art of believing, or of coming to this spiri- 
 tual activity of faith, is, to be often put to that work in the 
 most difficult way, to make up all wants and losses in God, 
 and to sweeten the bitterest griefs with his loving kindness. 
 
 Might be found unto praise, and honour, and glory. '\ This 
 is the end that is intended, and shall be certainly obtained 
 by all these hot trials. Faith shall come through them all, and 
 shall be found unto praise, &c. An unskilful beholder may 
 think it strange to see gold thrown into the fire, and left there 
 for a time ; but he that puts it there would be loth to lose it ; 
 his purpose is to make some costly piece of work of it. Every 
 believer gives himself to Christ, and he undertakes to present 
 them blameless to the Father ; not one of them shall be lost, 
 nor one drachm of their faith ; they shall be found, and their 
 faith shall be found, when He appears. That faith which is here 
 in the furnace, shall be dicn made up into a crown of pure 
 gold: it shall be found unto praise, and honour, and glory. 
 
 This praise, and honour, and glory may be referred, either 
 to behevers themselves, according to the Apostle St. Paul's 
 expression, Rom. ii. 7, or to Christ who appears: but the two 
 will agree well together, that it be both to their praise, and to 
 the praise of Christ ; for, certainly, all their praise and glory 
 shall terminate in the glory of their head — Christ, who is God 
 blessed for ever. They have each their crown ; but their 
 honour is, to cast them all down before his throne. He shall 
 be glorified in his Saints, and admired in them that believe. 
 They shall be glorious in him ; and therefore in all their glory 
 lie shall be glorified : for as they have derived their glory 
 from him, it shall all return back to him again. 
 
 ylt the appearance of Jesus Christ.^ This denotes the 
 time when this shall come to pass ; for Christ is faithful and 
 true ; he liatli promised to come again, and to judge the world 
 in rlghtcuusnebs, and lie will conic and will not tarry. He
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETER. G7 
 
 shall judge righteously in that day, who was himself unright- 
 eously judged here on earth. It is called the Revelation ; all 
 other things shall be revealed in that day, the most hidden 
 things, good and evil, shall be unvailed ; but it is emi- 
 nently the day of His Revelation : it shall be by his light, by 
 the brightness of his coming, that all other things shall be re- 
 vealed ; but he himself shall be the worthiest sight of all. All 
 eyes shall behold him. He shall then gloriously appear before 
 all men and angels, and shall by all be acknowledged to be the 
 Son of God, and judge of the world : some shall with joy 
 know him, and acknowledge him to be so, others to their hor- 
 ror and amazement. How beautiful shall he be to those who 
 love him, when he as the glorious head shall appear with his 
 whole body mystical together with him ! 
 
 Then, the glory and praise which all the saints shall be ho- 
 noured with, shall recompense fully all the scorns, and igno- 
 minies, and distresses, they have met with here. And they 
 shall shine the brighter for them. Oh ! if we considered often 
 that solemn day, how light should we set by the opinions of 
 men, and all outward hardships that can befal us ! How easily 
 should we digest dispraise and dishonour here, and pass 
 through all cheerfully, provided we may be then found in him, 
 and so partakers of praise, and glory, and honour, in that day 
 of his appearing ! 
 
 Ver. 8. Whom having not seen, ye love : in whom, though now ye see 
 him not, yet, believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of 
 glory. 
 
 Ver. 9. Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. 
 
 It is aparodox to the world which the Apostle hath asserted, 
 that there is a joy which can subsist in the midst of sorrow ; 
 therefore he insists in confirmation of it, and in all these words 
 proves it to the full, yea, with advantage, that the saints have 
 not only some measure of joy in the griefs that abound upon 
 them here, but excellent and eminent joy, such as makes good all 
 that can be said of it, such as cannot be spoken too much of, for 
 it is unspeakable, nor too much magnified, for it is gloriomr, 
 
 F2
 
 GS A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 To evidence the truth of tliis, and to confirm his brethren 
 in the experienced knowledge of it, lie expresses here more 
 particularly and distinctly the causes of this their joy, which 
 are, — 
 
 1. The object or matter of it; 2. The apprehension and 
 appropriation of that object : which two conjoined, are the 
 entire cause of all rejoicing. 
 
 1. The object is Jesus Christ, ver, 8, and the salvation 
 purchased by him, ver. 9. For these two cannot be severed ; 
 and these two verses Avhicli speak of them, require (as is evident 
 by their connexion) to be considered together. 
 
 S. The apprehension of these is set forth, first, negatively, 
 not by bodily sight ; secondly, positively : whereas it might 
 seem to abate the certainty and liveliness of their rejoicing, that 
 it is of things they had not seen, nor do yet see, this is abun- 
 dantly made up by three for one, each of them more excellent 
 than the mere bodily sight of Christ in the flesh, which many 
 had who were never the better by It : the three things are, 
 those three prime Christian graces, faith, love, and hope ; the 
 two former in ver. 8, the third in ver. 9. — Faith in Christ 
 begetting love to him, and both these giving assured hope of 
 salvation by him, making it as certain to them, as if it were 
 already in their hand, and they in possession of it. And from 
 all these together results this exultation, or leaping for joy, joy 
 unspeakable, and full of (jlory. 
 
 This is that one thing that so much concerns us ; and there- 
 fore we mistake very far, and forget our own highest interest 
 too much, when we either speak or hear of it slightly, and apply 
 not our hearts to it. What is it that all our thoughts and 
 endeavours drive at ? What means all that we are doiiip; in 
 the world ? Though we take several ways to it, and wrong 
 ways for the most part, yea such ways as lead not to it, but 
 set us further off from it ; yet what we all seek after by all our 
 laboui- undtr the sun, is something that may be matter of con- 
 tentment and rcjoifing to us when wc have attained it. Now 
 here it is, and in vain is it soui-lit for elsewhere. And for this
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. CO 
 
 end it is represented to you, that it may be yours, if ye will 
 entertain it; not only that you may know this to be a truth, 
 tliat in Jesus Christ is laid up true consolation and rejoicing, 
 that he is the magazine and treasury of it, but that you may 
 know how to bring him home into your hearts, and lodge him 
 there, and so to have the spring of joy Avithin you. 
 
 That which gives full joy to the soul, must be something 
 that is higher and better than itself. In a word. He who made 
 it, can alone make it glad after this manner, with unspcahahle 
 and glorious joy. But the soul, while remaining guilty of 
 rebellion against Him, and unreconciled, cannot behold him 
 but as an enemy ; any belief that it can have of Him while it 
 is in that posture, is not such as can fetch love, and hope, and 
 so rejoicing, but what the faith of devils produceth, only 
 begetting terror and trembling. But the light of his counte- 
 nance shining in the face of his Son the Mediator, gladdens 
 the heart ; and it is the looking upon him so, that causeth the 
 soul to believe, and love, and hope, and rejoice. Therefore 
 the Apostle, in his description of the estate of the Gentiles be- 
 fore Christ was preached to them, (Eph. ii.,) joins these toge- 
 ther : Without Christ, — that was the cause of all the rest, — 
 therefore, without comfort in the promises, without hope, and 
 without God in the ivorld. So he is here by our Apostle ex- 
 pressed as the object. In all these, therefore, he is the matter 
 of our joy, because our faith, and love, and hope of salvation 
 do centre in him. 
 
 The Apostle writing to the dispersed Jews, many of whom 
 had not known or seen Christ in the flesh, commends their 
 love and faith for this reason, that it did not depend upon 
 bodily sight, but was pure, and spiritual, and made them of the 
 number of those whom our Saviour himself pronounces blessed, 
 who have not seen, and yet believe. You saw him not when 
 he dwelt amongst men, and walked too and fro, preaching and 
 Avorking miracles. Many of those Avho did then hear and see 
 him, believed not ', yea they scoffed, and hated, and persecuted 
 him, and in the end crucified him : you have seen none'of all
 
 70 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 those things, yet Imving heard the Gospel which declares him, 
 you have believed. 
 
 Thus observe, the working or not working of faith, dotli not 
 depend upon the difference of the external ministry and gifts of 
 men ; for what greater difference can there be that way, than 
 betwixt the master and the servants, betwixt the great prophet 
 himself, and his weak sinful messengers ? and yet many of those 
 who saw and heard him in person, were not converted, believed 
 not in him ; and thousands who never saw him, were converted 
 by his Apostles, and as it seems, even some of those who were 
 some way accessory to his death, yet were brought to repent- 
 ance by this same Apostle's sermon. (See Acts ii.) 
 
 Learn, then, to look above the outward ministry, and any 
 difference that in God's dispensation can be there ; and know, 
 that if Jesus Christ himself were on earth, and now preaching 
 amongst us, yet might his incomparable words be unprofitable 
 to us, not being mixed with faith in the hearers. But where 
 that is, the meanest and the most despicable conveyance of his 
 message, received with humility and affection, will work blessed 
 effects. 
 
 Whom not seeing yet believing."] Faith elevates the soul 
 not only above sense and sensible things, but above reason it- 
 self. As reason corrects the errors which sense might occa- 
 sion, so supernatural faith corrects the errors of natural reason, 
 judging according to sense. 
 
 The sun seems less than the wheel of a chariot, but reason 
 teaches the philosopher that it is much bigger than the Avhole 
 earth, and the cause that it seems so little is its m-eat distance. 
 The naturally wise man is equally deceived by this carnal rea- 
 son, in liis estimate of Jesus Christ the Sun of Righteousness, 
 and the cause is the same, his great distance from him ; as the 
 Psalmist speaks of the wicked, (Psal. x. 5,) Thy judgments are 
 far above, out of his sight. He accounts Christ and his glory 
 a smaller matter than his own gain, Iionour, or pleasure ; for 
 these are near him, and he sees their quantity to the full, and 
 counts them bigger, yea fur more worth than they are indeed.
 
 THE FinST EPISTLE OF PETER. 71 
 
 But the Apostle St. Paul, and all who arc enlightened by the 
 same spirit, they know by faith, which is divine reason, that 
 the excellency of Jesus Christ far surpasses the worth of the 
 whole earth, and all things earthly. (Phil. iii. 7, 8.) 
 
 To give a right assent to the Gospel of Christ is impossible, 
 without divine and saving faith infused in the soul. To be- 
 lieve that the eternal Son of God clothed himself with human 
 flesh, and dwelt amongst men in a tabernacle like theirs, and 
 suffered death in the flesh ; that he who was Lord of life hath 
 freed us from the sentence of eternal death ; that he broke the 
 bars and chains of death and rose again ; that he went up into 
 Heaven, and there at the Father's right hand sits in our flesh, 
 and that glorified above the Angels ; this is the fjreat mystery 
 of Godliness. And a part of this mystery is, that he is he" 
 lieved on in the world. (1 Tim. ii. 16.) This, natural men 
 may discourse of, and that very knowingly, and give a kind 
 of natural credit to it, as to a history that may be true ; but 
 firmly to believe that there is divine truth in all these things, 
 and to have a persuasion of it stronger than of the very things 
 we see with our eyes, — such an assent as this is the peculiar 
 work of the Spirit of God, and is certainly saving faith. 
 
 The soul that so believes, cannot choose but love. It is 
 commonly true that the eye is the ordinary door by which love 
 enters into the soul, and it is true in respect of this love ; 
 though it is denied of the eye of sense, yet, (you see,) it is 
 ascribed to the eye of faith, though you have not seen him, you 
 love him, because you believe : which is to see him spiritually. 
 Faith, indeed, is distinguished from that vision which shall be 
 in glory : but it is the vision of the kingdom of grace, it is the 
 eye of the new creature, that quick-sighted eye which pierces 
 all the visible heavens, and sees above them, which looks to 
 thimjs that are not seen, (2 Cor. iv. 18,) and is the evidence 
 of thiwjs not seen, (Heb. xi. 1,) and sees him ivho is invisible, 
 (ver, 27). It is possible that a person may be much beloved 
 upon the report of his worth and virtues, and upon a picture 
 of him lively drawn, before sight of the party so commended.
 
 i^ A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 and represented ; but certain!)^ wlicn lie is seen, and found 
 answerable to the former, it raises the affection already begun, 
 to a far greater height. We have the report of the perfec- 
 tions of Jesus Christ in the Gospel ; yea, so clear a descrip- 
 tion of him, tliat it gives a picture of iiim, and that, together 
 Avith the sacraments, is the only lawful, and the only lively 
 picture of our Saviour. (Gal. iii. 1.) Now faith believes this 
 report, and beholds this picture, and so lets in the love of 
 Christ to the soul. But further, it gives a particular experi- 
 mental knowledge of Christ, and acquaintance with him ; it 
 causes the soul to find all that is spoken of him in the word, 
 and his beauty there represented, to be abundantly true : makes 
 it really taste of his sweetness, and by that possesses the heart 
 more strongly with his love, persuading it of the truth of those 
 thmgs, not by reasons and arguments, but by an inexpressible 
 kind of evidence, Avhich they only know who have it. Faith 
 persuades a Christian of these two things which the philosopher 
 gives as the causes of all love, bcaiui/ and jirojjriefy, the love- 
 liness of Christ in himself, and our interest in him. 
 . The former it effectuates not only by the first apprehending 
 and believing of those his excellencies and beauty, but by fre- 
 quent beholding of him, and eyeing him in whom all perfection 
 dwells, and it looks so oft on him, till it sets the very impression 
 of his image (as it were) upon the soul, so that it can never be 
 blotted out and forgotten. The latter it doth by that particu- 
 lar uniting act which makes him our God and our Saviour. 
 
 Ye love.'} The distincticms which some make in love, need 
 not be taken as importing differing kinds, but different actings, 
 of the same love, by which we may try our so much pretended 
 love of Christ, which in truth is so rarely found. There a\ ill 
 then be in this love, if it be genuine, these three qualities, 
 rjood-will, deVujht, and desire. 
 
 1st, Good-will, earnest wishing, and (as we can) promoting 
 God's glory, and stirring up others so to do. They who seek 
 more their own things than the things of Jesus Christ, more 
 iheir own praise and esteem than his, arc strangers to this
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEIJ. 73 
 
 cllvlnc love ; for she seeks not her' own things. The bitter root 
 of self-love is most hard to pluck up ; this strongest and sweet- 
 est love of Christ alone doth it actually though gradually. This 
 love makes the soul like the lower Heaven, slow in its own mo- 
 tion, most swift in the motion of that first which wheels it about ; 
 so, the higher degree of love, the more swift. It loves the hard- 
 est tasks and greatest difficulties, where it may perform God 
 service, either in doing or in suffering for him. It is strong as 
 death, and many ivaters cannot quench it. (Eccles. viii. 6, 7.) 
 The greater the task is, the more real arc the testimony and 
 expression of love, and therefore the more acceptable to God. 
 
 2cZ/*/, There is in true love, a complacency and delight in 
 God ; a conformity to his will ; a loving what he loves : it is 
 studious of his will, ever seeking to know more clearly what it 
 is that is most pleasing to him, contracting a likeness to God in 
 all his actions, by conversing with him, by frequent contempla- 
 tion of God, and looking on his beauty. As the eye lets in 
 this affection, so it serves it constantly, and readily looks that 
 way which love directs it. Thus the soul possessed with this 
 love of Jesus Christ, the soul which hath its eye much upon 
 him, often thinking on his former sufferings and present glory, 
 the more it looks upon Christ, the more it loves ; and still the 
 more it loves, the more it delights to look upon him. 
 
 Sdly, There is in true love a desire ; for it is but small be- 
 ginnings and tastes of his goodness which the soul hath here ; 
 therefore it is still looking out and longing for the day of mar- 
 riage. The time is sad and wearisome, and seems much longer 
 than it is, while it is detained here. I desire to he dissolved 
 (saith St. Paul) and to be ivith Christ. (Phil. i. 2 3.) 
 , God is the sum of all things lovely. Thus excellently Gre- 
 gory Nazianzen expresseth himself, Orat. 1 : '' If I have any 
 " possessions, health, credit, learning, this is all the content- 
 " ment I have of them, that I have somewhat I may despise 
 '' for Christ, who is fotiis desiderahilis , et totwn desiderabile, 
 " (the all-desirable one, the every thing desirable)." And this 
 love is the sum of all he requires of us ; it is that which makes
 
 74 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 all our meanest services acceptable, and witliont which all we 
 offer to him is distasteful. God doth deserve our love, not only 
 by his matchless excellency and beauty, but by his matchless 
 love to us, and that is the strongest loadstone of love. He 
 hath loved me, saith the Apostle, Gal. ii. 20. How appears 
 that ? In no less than this, He hath (jlvcn himself for me. 
 Certainly, then, there is no clearer character of our love than 
 this, to give ourselves to him who hath so loved us, and given 
 himself for us. 
 
 This affection must be bestowed somewhere ; there is no 
 man but hath some ]5rime choice, somewhat that is the predo- 
 minant delight of his soul ; will it not then be our wisdom to^ 
 make the worthiest choice ? seeing it is offered us, it is ex- 
 treme folly to reject it. 
 
 Grace doth not pluck up by the roots and wholly destroy the 
 natural passions of the mind, because they are distempered by 
 sin ! — that were an extreme remedy to cure by killing, and heal 
 by cutting off; no, but it corrects the distemper in them ; it 
 dries not up this main stream of love, but purifies it from the 
 mud which it is full of in its wrong course, or turns it into its 
 right channel, by which it may run into happiness, and empty 
 itself into the [ocean of goodness. The Holy Spirit turns the 
 love of the soul towards God in Christ, for in that way only 
 can it apprehend his love : so then Jesus Christ is the first 
 object of this Divine love ; he is medium iinionis, through 
 whom God conveys the sense of his love to the soul, and re- 
 ceives back its love to Himself. 
 
 And if we will consider his incomparable beauty, Ave may 
 look on it in the Holy Scriptures, particularly in that divine 
 song of loves, wherein Solomon borrows all the beauties of the 
 creatures, dips his pencil in all their several excellencies, to set 
 him forth unto us, who is the cliief of ten thousands. There is 
 an inseparable intermixture of love with belief, and a pious af- 
 fection in receiving Divine truth ; so that in effect, as we dis- 
 tinguish them, they are mutually strengthened^ the one by the 
 other ; and so, though it seem a circle, it is a divine one, and
 
 THE FIEST EriSTLE OF TETER. 75 
 
 falls not under censure of the schools' pedantry. If you ask 
 How shall I do to love ? I answer, Believe. If you ask, How 
 shall I believe 9 I answer, Love. Although the expressions to 
 a carnal mind are altogether unsavoury, by grossly mistaking 
 them, yet, to a soul taught to read and hear them, by any 
 measure of that same spirit of love wherewith they were penned, 
 they are full of heavenly and unutterable sweetness. 
 
 Many directions, as to the means of begetting and increasing 
 this love of Christ, may be here offered, and they who delight 
 in number may multiply them; but surely this one will com- 
 prehend the greatest and best part, if not all of them : Believe, 
 and you shall love ; believe much, and you shall love much ; 
 labour for strong and deep persuasions of the glorious things 
 which are spoken of Christ, and this will command love. Cer- 
 tainly, did men indeed believe his worth, they would accord- 
 ingly love him ; for the reasonable creature cannot but affect 
 that most which it firmly believes to be worthiest of affection. 
 O ! this mischievous unbelief is that Avhich makes the heart cold 
 and dead towards God. Seek then to believe Christ's excel- 
 lency in himself, and his love to us, and our interest in him ; 
 and this will kindle such a fire in the heart, as will make it as- 
 cend in a sacrifice of love to him. 
 
 The signs likewise of this love may be multiplied, according 
 to the many fruits and workings of it ; but in them all, itself is 
 its own most infallible evidence. When the soul finds that all 
 its obedience and endeavour to keep the commands of Jesus 
 Christ, which himself makes its character, do flow from love, 
 then it is true and sincere ; for do or suffer what you will, 
 without love all passes for nothing ; all are ciphers without it, 
 they signify nothing. (1 Cor. xiii.) 
 
 This is the message of the Gospel, and that which the mi- 
 nistry aims at ; and therefore the ministers ought to be suitors, 
 not for themselves, but for Christ, to espouse souls to him, and 
 to bring in many hearts to love him. And certainly, this is 
 the most compendious way to persuade to all other Christian 
 duties : for this is to converse with Jesus Christ, and where his
 
 76' A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 ]ovc Is, no Other incentive will be needful ; for love delights in 
 the presence and converse of the party loved. If we are to 
 persuade to duties of the second table, the sum of those is, love 
 to our brethren, resulting from the love of Christ, which dif- 
 fuseth such a swee'tness into the soul, that it is all love, and 
 meekness, and gentleness, and long-suffering. 
 
 If times be for suffering, love will make the soul not only 
 bear, but welcome the bitterest afflictions of life, and the 
 hardest kinds of death for his sake. In a word, there is in 
 love a sweet constraint, or tying of the heart to all obedience 
 and duty. 
 
 The love of God is requisite in ministers for their preachino- 
 of the word ; so our Saviour to St. Peter, John xxi. 15. Peter, 
 lovest thou me? then feed my lambs. It is requisite for the 
 people that they receive the truth in the love of it, and that 
 Christ preached may be entertained in the soul, and embraced 
 by faith and love. 
 
 You that have made choice of Christ for your love, let not 
 your hearts slip out, to renew your Avonted base familiarity 
 with sin ; for that will bring new bitterness to your souls, and 
 at least for some time will deprive you of the sensible favour of 
 your beloved Jesus. Delight always in God, and give him your 
 whole heart; for he deserves it all, and is a satisfying good to 
 it. The largest heart is all of it too straight for the riches of 
 consolation which he brings with him. Seek to increase in this 
 love ; and though it is at first weak, yet labour to find it daily 
 rise higher, and burn hotter and clearer, and consume the dross 
 of earthly desires. 
 
 Receiving the end of your faith.'] Although the soul that 
 believes and loves is put in present possession of God, as far 
 as It is capable in its sojoui-ning here, yet it desires a full en- 
 joyment, ^^■Wwh k cannot attain to without removing hence. 
 While we are present in the body, we are absent from the 
 Lord, saith the Apostle. And because they are assured of 
 that happy exchange, that being untied and freed of this body, 
 they sliall be present with the Lord, having his own word for
 
 niE FIRST EPISTLF. OF PETFR. 77 
 
 it, tliat where he is theij shall he also ; this begets such an 
 assured hope, as bears the name of Possession. Therefore it 
 is said here Kecelving the end of your faith. 
 
 This receiving Hkewise flows from faith. Faith apprehends 
 the present trutli of the Divine promises, and so makes the 
 things to come, present ; and hope looks out to their after- 
 accomplishment, which, if tlie promises be true, as faith avers, 
 then hope hath good reason firmly to expect. This desire and 
 hope are the very wheels of the soul which carry it on, and 
 faith is the common axis on which they rest. 
 
 In these words there are two things : I. The good hoped 
 for in Christ so believed on and loved ; II. The assuredness of 
 the hope itself: yea, it is as sure as if it were already accom- 
 plished. 
 
 I. As for the good hoped for, it consists, 1. In the nature 
 of it, viz., the salvation of their soul; S. In a relative pro- 
 perty of it, the end of their faith. 
 
 1st. The nature of it is salvation, and salvation of the 
 soul : it imports full deliverance from all kinds of misery, and 
 the safe possession of perfect happiness, Avhen the soul shall bo 
 out of the reach of all adversaries and adverse accidents, no 
 more subjected to those evils which are properly its own, 
 namely, the conscience of sin, and fear of wrath, and sad de- 
 fections ; nor yet subject to those other evils which it endured 
 by society with the body — outward distresses and afflictions, 
 persecutions, poverty, diseases, &c. 
 
 It is called salvation of the soul : not excluding the body 
 from the society of that glory, when it shall be raised and I'c- 
 united to the soul ; but because the soul is of itself an immortal 
 substance, and both the more noble part of man, and the prime 
 subject both of grace and glory, and because it arrives first at 
 that blessedness, and for a time leaves the body in the dust to 
 do homage to its original ; therefore it is alone named here. 
 But Jesus is the Saviour of the body too, and he shall, at his 
 coming, change our vile bodies, and make thcni like his <jlo^ 
 rious hodij.
 
 78 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 ^dli/, We have the relative property of this hope, — The end 
 of your faith, the end or reward; for it is both. It is the 
 end, either at which faith aims, or wherein it ceaseth. It is 
 the reward, not of their works, nor of faith, as a work deserv- 
 ing it, but as the condition of the new covenant, which God, 
 according to the tenor of that covenant, first works in his own, 
 and then rewards as if it were their work. And this salvation, 
 or fruition of Ciirist, is the proper reward of faith, which be- 
 lieves in him unseen, and so obtains that happy sight. It is 
 the proper work of faith to believe what thou seest not, and 
 the reward of faith to see what thou hast believed. 
 
 II. This is the certainty of their hope, that it is as if they 
 had already received it. If the promise of God and the merit 
 of Christ hold good, then they who believe in him, and love 
 him, are made sure of salvation. The promises of God in 
 Christ are not yea and nay ; but they are in him yea, and in. 
 him amen. Sooner may the rivers run backward, and the 
 course of the heavens change, and the frame of nature be dis- 
 solved, than any one soul that is united to Christ Jesus, by 
 faith and love, can be severed from him, and so fall short of 
 the salvation hoped for in him ; and this is the matter of their 
 rejoicing. 
 
 Ye rejoice with joy unspeahahle.'] The natural man, says 
 the Apostle, receiveth not the things of God, for they are fooU 
 ishness unto him; and he adds the reason why he canno 
 know them, /or they are spiritually discerned. He hath none 
 of that faculty by which they are discerned. There is a vast 
 disproportion betwixt those things and nature's highest capacity ; 
 it cannot work beyond its sphere. Speak to the natural man, 
 of the matter of spiritual grief, the sense of guiltiness, and the 
 apprehension of God's displeasure, or the hiding of his favour 
 and the light of his countenance from the soul ; these things 
 stir not him, he knows not what they mean. Speak to him 
 again of the peace of conscience, and sense of God's love, and 
 the joy that arises hence ; he is no less a stranger to that. 
 Mourn to him, and lie laments not; pipe to him, and he
 
 TllE FIRST EPISTLE OF TETEK. 79 
 
 dances not, as our Saviour speaks. Matt. xi. 17. But as it there 
 follows, vcr. 19, there is a wisdom in these things, though they 
 seem folly and nonsense to the fooHsh world, and this wisdom 
 is justified of her own children. 
 
 Having said somewhat already of the Causes of this spiritual 
 joy, which the Apostle here speaks of, it remains that we con- 
 sider these two things : 1. How joy ariseth from these causes ; 
 2. The excellency of this joy, as it is here expressed. 
 
 There is here a solid, sufficient good, and the heart made 
 sure of it, being partly put in present possession of it, and 
 having a most certain hope of all the rest. And what more 
 can be required to make it joyful ? Jesus Christ, the treasure 
 of all blessings, received and united to the soul, by faith, and 
 love, and hope ! 
 
 Is not Christ the light and joy of the nations? such a light 
 as Abraham, at the distance of many ages, of more than two 
 thousand years, yet saw by faith, and seeing, rejoiced in. Be- 
 sides this brightness, which makes light a joyful object, light 
 is often in Scripture put for joy. Christ, who is this light, 
 brings salvation with him : he is the Sun of Righteousness, 
 and there is healing under his wings. I bring you, said 
 the angel, good tidings of great joy, that shall be to all peo- 
 ple. And their song hath in it the matter of that joy. Glory 
 to God in the highest, peace on earth, and good will toward 
 men. (Luke ii. 10, 14.) 
 
 But to the end Ave may rejoice in Christ, we must find him 
 ours ; otherwise, the more excellent he is, the more cause hatli 
 the heart to be sad, while it hath no portion in him. My spi- 
 rit hath rejoiced (said the blessed Virgin) in God my Saviour. 
 (Luke i. 47.) 
 
 Thus, having spoken of our communion with Christ, the 
 Apostle adds, 1 John i. 7, These things I ivrite, that your joy 
 may be full. Faith worketh this joy, by uniting the soul to 
 Christ, and applying his merits, from the application of which 
 arises the pardon of sin ; and so that load of misery, which 
 was the great cause of sorrow, is removed ; and so soon as the
 
 so A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 soul finds itself lig'litened and unloaded of tliat burden which 
 was sinking it to hell, it cannot choose but leap for joy, in the 
 ease and refreshment it finds. Therefore that Psahn which 
 David begins with the doctrine of the pardon of sin, he ends 
 with an exhortation to rejoic'iiKj. Blessed is the man whose 
 transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered : (Psal. 
 xxxii. 1 :) thus he begins, but he ends, Be glad in the Lord, 
 and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy, all ye that are 
 iijjright in heart. St. Peter speaks to his hearers of the re- 
 mission of sins, Acts ii. 38, and at ver, 41 it is added, 77iey 
 received his words gladly. And our Saviour joins these two 
 together, Be of good comfort, thy sins arc forgiven thee. 
 Thus, Isa. Ixi. 1, good tidings of liberty to captives are pro- 
 claimed, and a notable change there is of their estate, who 
 mourn in Zion, giving them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy 
 for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of 
 heaviness. Think with what joy the long imprisoned debtor, 
 drowned in debt, receives a full discharge, and his liberty ; or 
 a condemned malefactor the news of his pardon, and this will 
 somewhat resemble it, but yet fall far short of the joy which 
 faith brings, by bringing Christ to the soul, and so forgiveness 
 of sins in him. 
 
 Ikit this is not all. This believing soul is not only a debtor 
 acquitted and set free, but enriched besides with a new and 
 great estate ; not only a })ardoned malefactor, but withal 
 highly preferred and advanced to honour, having a right, by 
 the promises, to the unsearchable ricJies of Christ, as the 
 Ajiostle speaks, and is received into favour with God, and 
 unto the dignity of sonship, taken from the dunghill, and set 
 with princes. (Psal. cxlii. 8.) 
 
 As there is joy from Faith, so also from Love. Thougii this 
 is in itself the most sweet and delightful passion of the soul, 
 yet, as we foolishly misplace it, it proveth often full of bitterness ; 
 but being set upon Jesus Christ, the only right and worthy 
 ol/ject, it causeth this uns})cakable delight and rejoicing. 
 
 Finst, It is matter of joy to have bestowed our love so wor-
 
 THE FIKST EFISTLE OF TETEK. 81 
 
 thily. When our Saviour seems to withdraw himself, and 
 sometimes saddens the soul that loves him, with ahsencas, in 
 regard of sense, yet even in those sad times, the soul delights 
 to love him, and there is a pleasure in the very pains it hath 
 in seeking after him. And this it knows, that his mercies are 
 everlasting, and that he cannot be long unkind, but will return 
 and speak comfortably unto it. 
 
 Secondly, Our love to Christ gives us assurance of His to 
 us, so that we have not only chosen worthily, but shall not be 
 frustrated and disappointed ; and it assures us of his, not as 
 following, but as preceding and causing ours; for our love 
 to Jesus Christ is no other than the reflex of his on us. 
 Wine maJceth glad the heart, but thy love is better than wine, 
 saith the Spouse. And having this persuasion, that he hath 
 loved us, and washed us in his blood, and forgets us not in 
 our conflicts, that though he himself is in his glory, yet that 
 he intercedes for us there, and will bring us thither, what con- 
 dition can befal us so hard, but we may rejoice in it, and in 
 them, so far as we are sure to arrive at that full salvation and 
 the fruition of him who hath purchased it ? 
 
 Then there is the third cause of our rejoicing, viz., our 
 Hope. Now hope is our anchor fixed ivithin the vail, which 
 stays us against all the storms that beat upon us in this trou- 
 blesome sea that we are tossed upon. The soul which strongly 
 beHeves and loves, may confidently hope to see what it believes, 
 and to enjoy what it loves, and in that it may rejoice. It may 
 say whatsoever hazards, whether outward or inward, whatso- 
 ever afflictions and temptations I endure, yet this one thing 
 puts me out of hazard, and in that I will rejoice, that the sal- 
 vation of my soul depends not upon my own strength, but is 
 in my Saviour"'s hand: My life is hid ivith Christ in God; 
 and ivhen he who is my life shall appear, I likewise shall 
 appear with him in glory. The childish world are hunting 
 shadows, and gaping and hoping after they know not what ; 
 but the believer can say, / know whom I have trusted, and am 
 persuaded that he is able to keep thai which I have com- 
 Vol. I. G
 
 82 A COMMENTARY UrOX 
 
 mittod to htm against that day. Now Ave must have not only 
 a righi to these tilings, but w itlial there must be frequent con- 
 sideration of them to produce joy. The soul must often view 
 them, and so rejoice. Mij meditation of him shall be sweet, 
 saith David. I will be (jlad in the Lord. (Psal. civ. 34.) The 
 godly, failing in this, deprive themselves of much of that joy 
 they might have ; and they who are most in these sublime 
 thoughts have the highest and truest joy. 
 
 The excellency of this joy, the Apostle here expresseth by 
 these two words. Unspeakable, and Full of glory. 
 
 That it is unspeakable, no wonder, seeing the matter of it 
 is inconceivable ; it is an infinite good. God reconciled in 
 Jesus Christ, and testifying and sealing his love unto the soul, 
 and giving assured hope of tliat blessed vision of eternity, — 
 Avhat more unspeakable than this ? And for the same reason it 
 is glorious, or glorified joy, having the highest and most glo- 
 rious object; for it derives all its excellency from thence. 
 
 Unspeakable.'] The best worldly joys are easily speakable ; 
 they may be expressed to the utmost, yea, usually more is 
 spoken of them than they are indeed. Their name is beyond 
 their worth ; they are very seldom found, upon experience, 
 ('(|ual to the opinion and expectation that men have of them. 
 Ikit this spiritual joy is above the report any can make of it : 
 say what they can of it wlio are of happiest expression, yet 
 when a man comes to know it in his own breast, he will say, 
 (as that queen said of Solomon"'s wisdom,) the half was not 
 told me of it. 
 
 Again, earthly joys are inglorious; many of which men are 
 ashamed of, and those that seem most plausible, yet are below 
 the excellency of the soul, and cannot (ill it: but the joys 
 which arise from union with Christ, as they are most avowablc 
 a man needs not bhish to own them, — so they are truly con- 
 tenting and satisfying, and that is their glory, and the cause 
 why we may glory in them. My soul sJudl make her boast in 
 God, nays David. (Psal. xxxiv. 2.) 
 
 For ylppUcalion of all this. If these tilings were believed,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 83 
 
 Avc sliould hearken no more to the foolish prejudice wliicli the 
 world hath taken u]i against religion, and wherewith Satan en- 
 deavours to possess men's hearts, that they may be scared from 
 the ways of holiness : they think it a sour, melancholy life 
 which hath nothing but sadness and mourning in it. But, to 
 remove this prejudice, 
 
 Consider, 1. Religion debars not from the lawful delights 
 which are taken in natural things, but teaches the moderate 
 and regular use of them, which is far the sweeter ; for things 
 lawful in themselves are in their excess sinful, and so prove 
 bitterness in the end. And if in some cases it requires the for- 
 saking of lawful enjoyments, as of pleasure, or profits, or ho- 
 nour, for God and for his glory, it is generous and more truly 
 delightful to deny them for this reason, than to enjoy them. 
 ]Men have done much this way for the love of their country, 
 and by a principle of moral virtue ; but to lose any delight, or 
 to suffer any hardship for that highest end — the glory of God, 
 and by the strength of love to him, is far more excellent, and 
 truly pleasant. 
 
 2. The delights and pleasures of sin, religion indeed ba- 
 nishes, but it is to change them for this joy that is unspeak- 
 ably beyond them. It calls men from sordid and base delights 
 to those that are pure delights indeed : it calls to men, Drink 
 ye no longer of the puddle, here are the crystal streams of a 
 living fountain. There is a delight in the very despising of 
 impure delights ; as St. Augustine exclaims, Quam suave est 
 istis suavifatibus carere ! How pleasant is it to want these 
 •pleasures ! But for such a change, to have in their stead such 
 delights, as that in comparison the other deserve not the name ; 
 to have such spiritual joy as shall end in eternal joy ; it is a 
 wonder we hasten not all to choose this joy, but it is indeed 
 because we believe it not. 
 
 3. It is true, the godly arc subject to great distresses and 
 afflictions ; but their joy is not extinguished by them, no, nor 
 diminished neither, but often sensibly increased. When they 
 have least of the world's joy, they abound most in spiritual
 
 84 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 consolations, and then relish them best. They find tliem 
 sweetest, when their taste is not depraved by earthly enjoy- 
 ments. IVe rejoice in tribulation, says St. Paul : and here 
 our Apostle insists on that, to verify the substance of this joy 
 in the midst of the greatest afflictions. 
 
 4. Spiritual grief, which seems most opposite to this spiri- 
 tual joy, excludeth it not, for there is a secret delight and 
 sweetness in the tears of repentance, a balm in them that re- 
 freshes the soul ; and even their saddest kind of mourning, 
 viz., the dark times of desertion, hath this in it, which is 
 someway sweet, that those mournings after their beloved, who 
 absents himself, are a mark of their love to him, and a true 
 evidence of it. And then all these spiritual sorrows, of what 
 nature soever, are turned into spiritual joy ; that is the proper 
 end of them ; they have a natural tendency that way. 
 
 5. But the natural man still doubts of this joy we speak of; 
 because he sees and hears so little of it from them who profess 
 to have it, and seem to have the best right to it. If we con- 
 sider the wretchedness of this life, and especially the abun- 
 dance of sin that is in the world, what wonder though this 
 their joy retire much inward, and appear little abroad, where 
 all things are so contrary to it, and so far are capable of it, 
 to whom it were pertinent to vent it ? Again, we see here, it is 
 unspeakable ; it were a poor thing if he that hath it could tell 
 it all out. Pauperis est numer are pecus. And when the soul 
 hath most of it, then it remains most within itself, and is so in- 
 wardly taken up with it, that possibly it can then least of all 
 express it. It is with joys, as they say of cares and griefs, Leves 
 loquunter ingentes sfupent. The deepest Abaters run stillest. 
 Res severa est verum gaudium, says Seneca. True joy is a 
 solid grave thing, dwells more in the heart than in the counte- 
 nance : whereas on tiie contrary, base and false joys arc but 
 supei'ficial, skin-deep (as we say) ; tliey are all in the face. 
 
 Think not that it is with the godly, as the Prophet says of 
 the wicked, that there is no peace to tJicm. The Srptuagint 
 reads it, no jog ; certainly it is true ; there is no true joy to
 
 THE FIRST KPISTLE OF PETE 15 . 85 
 
 the wicked : tliey may revel and make a noise, but tlicy rejoice 
 not : The laughter of the fool is (is the cracklincj of thorns 
 under the pot, a great noise but little heat, and soon at an end. 
 There is no continuing feast, but that of a good conscience. 
 Wickedness and real joy cannot dwell together, as the very mo- 
 ralist Seneca hath it often and at large. But he that can say, 
 The righteousness of Jesus Christ is mine, and in him the fa- 
 vour of God, and the hope of eternal happiness, hath such a 
 light as can shine in the darkest dungeon, yea in the dark val- 
 ley of the shadow of death itself 
 
 Say not thou, If I betake myself to the way of godliness, I 
 must bid farewell to gladness, never a merry day more ; no, on 
 the contrary, never a truly joyful day till then, yea, no days at 
 all, but night to the soul, till it entertain Jesus Christ, and his 
 kingdom, which consists in righteousness, ^:>race, and joy in 
 the Holy Ghost. Thou dost not sacrifice Isaac, which signi- 
 fies laughter, (as St. Bernard has it,) but a ram ; not your joy, 
 but filthy sinful delights which end in sorrow. 
 
 Oh ! seek to know in your experience what those joys mean ; 
 for all describing and commending them to you will not make 
 you understand them ; but taste and see that the Lord is 
 good : Lauda mellis dulcedinem quantum j^otes, qui non gus- 
 taverif, non intelligef, says Augustine ; Praise the siveetness 
 of honey to the iitmost, he who has never fasted if, cannot un- 
 derstand if. You cannot see and know this goodness, but by 
 tasting it ; and having tasted it, all those poor joys yovi thought 
 sweet before, will then be bitter and distasteful to you. 
 
 And you that have Christ yours by believing, know your 
 happiness, and rejoice, and glory in it. Whatsoever is your 
 outward condition, rejoice ahvays, and again I say rejoice, 
 for light is sown to the righteous, and gladness for the up- 
 right in heart. (Phil. iv. 4. Psal. xcvii. 11.) 
 Ver. 10. Of which salvation the prophets have inquired, and searched 
 
 dihgently, who propliesied of the gi'ace that should come unto you. 
 11. Searching what, or what manner of time the spirit of Christ which 
 
 was in them did signify, when he testified beforehand the sufferings 
 
 of Christ and the glory that should follow.
 
 86 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 12. Unto whom it was revealed, that not unto themselves, but unto us 
 tliey did minister the things which are now reported unto you by 
 lliem that have preached the gospel unto you, w'ith tlie Holy Ghost 
 sent down from Heaven, ^Yllich things the Angels desire to look into. 
 
 It is the ignorance, or at least the inconsideration of Divine 
 things, that makes earthly things, whether good or evil, ap- 
 pear great in our eyes ; therefore the Apostle's great aim is, by 
 representing the certainty and excellency of the belief and hope 
 of Christians to his afflicted brethren, to strengthen their minds 
 against all discouragements and oppositions ; that they may 
 account nothing too hard to do or suffer, for so high a cause, 
 and so happy an end. It is the low and mean thoughts, and 
 the shallow persuasion we have of things that are spiritual, 
 that is the cause of all our remissness and coldness in them. 
 The doctrine of salvation, mentioned in the former verse as the 
 end of our Christian faith, is illustrated in these words, from 
 its antiquity, dignity, and infallible truth. 
 
 It is no modern invention ; for the prophets inquired after it, 
 and foretold it in former ages from the beginning. Thus the 
 prejudice of novelty is removed, which usually meets the most 
 ancient truth in its new discoveries. 
 
 Again, it is no mean thing that such men as were of unques- 
 tioned eminency in wisdom and holiness, did so much study 
 and search after, and having found it out, were careful not only 
 to publish it in their own times, but to record it to posterity; 
 and this not by the private motion of their own spirits, but by 
 the acting and guidance of the Spirit of God ; which likewise 
 sets the truth of their testimony above all doubtfulness and 
 uncertainty. 
 
 But taking the three verses entirely together, we have in 
 them these three things, testifying how excellent the doctrine 
 of the Gospel is. 1. We have the principal author of it. 2. 
 The matter of it. 3. The worth of those who are exercised 
 about it, v'lz.^ the best of men, the prophets and apostles, in 
 administering it, and the best of all the creatures, the angels, 
 in admiring it.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 87 
 
 I. The first author is the absolutely j^rs^, the Spirit of God 
 in the prophets, ver. 11, in the apostles, ver. 12. But the 
 Spirit of Christ, in ver. 11 , is the same spirit that he sent down 
 on his disciples after his ascending to glory, and which spoke in 
 his prophets before his descending to the earth. It is the 
 Spirit of Christ, proceeding jointly from him with the Father, 
 as he is the Son of God, and dwelling most richly and fully in 
 him as the Son of Man. 
 
 The Holy Ghost is in himself holiness, and the source and 
 worker of holiness, and author of this holy doctrine which 
 breathes nothing but holiness, and urges it most pressingly 
 upon all that receive it. 
 
 This is the very life of divine faith, touching the mysteries 
 of salvation, firmly to believe their revelation by the Spirit of 
 God. This the word itself testifies, as we see ; and it is 
 really manifest in it ', he carries the lively stamp of Divine 
 inspiration, but there must be a spiritual eye to discern it. He 
 that is blind, knows not that the sun shines at noon, but by the 
 report of others ; but they that see, are assured they see it, and 
 assured by no other thing but its own light. To ask one who 
 is a true believer, How know you the Scriptures to be Divine ? 
 is the same as to ask him, How know you light to be light ? 
 
 The soul is nothing but darkness and blindness within, till 
 that same Spirit that shines without in the word, shines likewise 
 within it, and effectually make it light ; but that once done, 
 then is the word read with some measure of the same Spirit by 
 which it was written, and the soul is ascertained that it is 
 Divine; as in bodily sight, there must be a meeting of inward 
 light, viz., the visual spirits with the outward object. 
 
 The Spirit of God within, brings evidence with it, and makes 
 itself discernible in the word ; this all arguments, all books and 
 study cannot attain unto. It is given to believe, 1 Phil. i. 29. 
 
 No man knows the things of a man but the spirit of man, 
 1 Cor. ii. 11. But how holds that here ? For if a man 
 speak out the things that are in his spirit, then others may know 
 them ; but the apostle's aim there, is, to conclude that the
 
 88 A COMAIKNTARY Ul'OM 
 
 things of God, even sucli as were revealed in Ins word, could 
 not be known but by liis own Spirit ; so that though revealed, 
 yet they remain still unrevcaled, till the Spirit teach within, as 
 well as without ; because they arc intelligible by none, but by 
 those who are the private scliolars and hearers of the Holy 
 Ghost, the author of them ; and because there are so few of 
 these, therefore there is so little real believing amidst all the 
 noise and profession that we make of it. Who is there (if you 
 Avill believe them) that believes not ? And yet truly there is 
 too much cause to continue the Prophefs regret, Isaiah, liii. 1, 
 JVho hatii believed ovr report? 
 
 Learn then to suspect yourselves, and to find out your own 
 unbelief, that you may desire this Spirit to teach you inwardly 
 those great mysteries which lie outwardly reveals and teaches 
 by his word. Make use of that promise, and press the Loi'd 
 with it, 71iey shall be all taiujht of God, Isaiah liv. 13, and 
 John vi. 45. 
 
 But, II. There is here the matter of this doctrine, which 
 Ave have in three several expressions, 1. That which is repeated 
 from the foregoing verse; it is the J)ovfrine of Sahation, that 
 is the end of it. 2. The Doctrine of the sufferings and glory 
 of Christ, as the means. And 3. The Doctrine of Grace, the 
 spring of both. 
 
 1. It is the doctrine of Salvatio)i, the onlv true doctrine of 
 true happiness, Avliieh the wisest of natural men have groped 
 and sought after with much earnestness, but witii no success; 
 they had no other than the dark moonlight of nature, and that 
 is not sufficient to find it out ; only the Sun of Ilighteousness 
 shining in the sphere of the Gospel, hriiujs life and immorta' 
 Uty to light, 2 'J'im. i. 10. No wonder that natural wisdom, 
 the deepest of it, is far from finding out the true method and 
 way of cure, seeing it cannot discover the disease of miserable 
 mankind, viz., the sinful and wrclclicd condition of nature by 
 the first disol)odience. 
 
 S(dvufion expresses not only that which is negative, but im- 
 plies likewise positive and perfect ha])piness; thus forgiveness
 
 THE FIIJST EPISTLE OK lETER. 89 
 
 of sins is put for the wliole nature of Justification frequently in 
 Scripture. It is more easy to say of tliis unspeakable happi- 
 ness, what it is not, than what it is. There is in it a full and 
 final freedom from all annoyance ; all tears are wiped away, and 
 their fountain is dried up ; all feeling and fear, or danger, of 
 any the least evil, cither of sin or punishment, is banished for 
 ever ; there arc no invasions of enemies, no robbing or destroy- 
 ing in all this holy mountain, no voice of complaining in the 
 streets of the new Jerusalem. Here it is at the best but inter- 
 changes of mornings of joy, with sad evenings of weeping; but 
 there, there shall be no light, no need of sun nor moon, For the 
 fjlory of the Lord shall lighten if, and the lamb shall be the 
 light thereof, Rev. xxi. 23. 
 
 Well may the Apostle (as he doth here throughout this 
 chapter) lay this salvation to counterbalance all sorrows and 
 persecutions, and whatsoever hardships can be in the way to it. 
 The soul that is persuaded of this, in the midst of storms and 
 tempests enjoys a calm, triumphs in disgraces, grows richer by 
 all its losses, and by death itself attains this immortal life. 
 
 Happy are they who have their eye fixed upon this salva- 
 tion, and are longing and waiting for it ; who see so much of 
 that brightness and glory, as darkens all the lustre of earthly 
 things to them, and makes them trample upon those things 
 which formerly they admired and doated on with the rest of the 
 foolish world. Those things we account so much of, are but 
 as rotten wood, or glow-worms that shine only in the night of 
 our ignorance and vanity : so soon as the light-beam of this 
 salvation enters into the soul, it cannot much esteem or affect 
 any thing below it, and if those glances of it which shine in the 
 word, and in the soul of a Christian, be so bright and powerful, 
 what then shall the full sight and real possession of it be ? 
 
 2. The Gospel is represented as the Doctrine of the suffer- 
 ings and glory of Christ, as the means of salvation. The 
 worker of this salvation, whom the Prophets and Apostles make 
 the sum of all their doctrine, is Jesus Christ, and the sum of 
 that work of redemption, (as we have it here,) is his humilia-
 
 90 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 tion and exaltation ; his sufferings, and the glory that followed 
 thereupon. Now, though this serve as an encouragement to 
 Christians in their sufferings, that this is the way by which 
 their Lord went into his glory, and is true also of Christ mys- 
 tical, the head with the members, as the Scriptures often teach 
 us ; yet I conceive it is here mainly intended as a summary of 
 the work of our redemption by Jesus Christ, relating to the 
 salvation mentioned, ver. 10, and as the cause for the effect, so 
 it is put for it here. The prophets inquired and prophesied 
 of that salvation. How ? By searching out and foretelling 
 the sufferings and glory of Christ. His sufferings, then, and 
 his after-glories are our salvation. His suffering is the purchase 
 of our salvation, and his glory is our assurance of it ; he as our 
 head having triumphed, and being crowned, makes us likewise 
 sure of victory and triumph. His having entered on the pos- 
 session of glory, makes our hope certain. This is his prayer, 
 That where he is, there ive may be also, and this his own 
 assertion. The glory which thou gavest me, I have given them,, 
 John xvii. 22, 24. This is his promise, Because I live, ye 
 shall live also, John xiv. 19. Christ and the believer are one; 
 this is that great mystery the Apostle speaks of, Ephes. v. 30. 
 Though it is a common known truth, the words and outside of it 
 obvious to all, yet none can understand it but they who indeed 
 partake of it. By virtue of that union their sins were accounted 
 his, and Chi'isfs sufferings are accounted theirs, and by conse- 
 quence, his glory, the consequent of his sufferings, is likewise 
 theirs. There is an indissoluble connexion betwixt the life of 
 Christ and of a believer. Our life is hid wiUi Christ in God ; 
 and therefore while we remain there, our life is there, though 
 hid, and when he who is our life shall appear^ ive likewise 
 shall appear with him in glory, Coloss. iii. 3, 4. Seeing the 
 sufferings and glory of our lledeemer are the main subject of 
 the Gospel, and the causes of our salvation, and of our comfor- 
 table persuasion of it, it is a wonder that they are not more the 
 matter of our thoughts. Ought we not daily to consider the 
 bitterness of tiiat cup of wrath he drank for us, and be wrought
 
 THE FIKST EPISTLE OF PETKR. 91 
 
 to repentance and hatred of sin, to have sin embittered to us 
 by that consideration, and find the sweetness of his love in 
 that he did drink it, and by that be deeply possessed with love 
 to him ? These things we now and then speak of, but they 
 sink not into our minds, as our Saviour exhorts, where he is 
 speaking of those same sufferings. O ! that they were engraven 
 on our hearts, and that sin were crucified in us, and the ivorld 
 crucified to us, and we unto the world, by the cross of Christ ! 
 (Gal. vi. 14.) 
 
 And let us be frequently considering the glory wherein he 
 is, and have our eye often upon that, and our hearts solacing 
 and refreshing themselves frequently with the thoughts of that 
 place and condition wherein Christ is, and where our hopes 
 are, ere long, to behold him ; both to see his glory, and to be 
 glorified with him, is it not reason ? Yea, it is necessary, it 
 cannot be otherwise, if our treasure and Head be there, 
 that our hearts be there likewise, (Matt. vi. 21 ; Coloss. 
 iii. 1, 2.) 
 
 The third expression here of the Gospel, is, That it is the 
 Doctrine of Grace. The work of redemption itself, and the 
 several parts of it, and the doctrine revealing it, have all the 
 name of Grace ; because they all flow from Free Grace ; that 
 is their spring and first cause. 
 
 And it is this wherein the doctrine of salvation is mainly 
 comfortable, that it is free ; Ye are saved by grace, (Eph. ii. 8.) 
 It is true, God requires faith, it is through faith ; but he that 
 requires that, gives it too : That is not of yourselves, it is the 
 gift of God, (Eph. ii. 8.) It is wonderful grace to save upon 
 believing : believe in Jesus for salvation, and live accordingly, 
 and it is done ; there is no more required to thy pardon, but 
 that thou receive it by faith. But truly nature cannot do this ; 
 it is as impossible for us of ourselves to believe as to do. This 
 then is that which makes it all grace from beginning to end, 
 that God not only saves upon believing, but gives believing 
 itself. Christ is called not only the Author and Finisher of 
 our salvation, but even of our faith, (Heb. xii. 2.)
 
 92 A COMMEKTARY UPON 
 
 Free grace being rightly appreliended, is tliat Avliieli stays 
 the heart in all estates, and keeps it from fainting, even in its 
 saddest times. What though there is nothing in myself but 
 matter of sorrow and discomfort, it cannot be otherwise : it is 
 not from myself that I look for comfort at any time, but from 
 my God and his free grace. Here is comfort enough for all 
 times : when I am at the best, T ought not, I dare not, rely upon 
 myself; when I am at the worst, I ma}', and should rely upon 
 Christ, and his sufficient grace. Though I be the vilest sinner 
 that ever came to him, 3'et I know he is more gracious than I 
 am sinful ; yea, the more my sin is, the more glory will it be 
 to his grace to pardon it ; it will appear the richer. Doth not 
 David argue thus, (Psal. xxv. 11,) For tlty namc^s sake, O 
 Lord, pardon mine iniquity, for it is fjrcat. IJut it is an 
 empty, fruitless notion of grace, to consider it only in the gene- 
 ral, and in a wandering way : wc are to look upon it particu- 
 larly, as addressed to us ; and it is not enough that it comes 
 to us, in the message of him that brings it only to our ear, but, 
 that we may know what it is, it must come into us; then it is 
 ours indeed. But if it come to us in the message only, and 
 we send it away again, if it shall so depart, we had better 
 never have heard of it : it will leave a guiltiness behind it, that 
 shall make all our sins weigh nnieh heavier tlian before. 
 
 Inquire whether you have entertained this grace or not; 
 whether it be come to you, and into you, or not ; whether the 
 linrjdoin of God is within yon, as our Saviour speaks, (Luke 
 xvii. 21.) It is the most woful condition that can be, not to 
 be far from the kingdom of God, and yet to fall short, and 
 miss of it. The grace of God revealed in the Gospel, is en- 
 treating you dailv to receive it, is willing to become yours, if 
 you reject it not. Were your eyes open to behold the beauty 
 and excellency of this grace, there would neeil no deliberation ; 
 yea, you would endure none. Desire your eyes to be opened 
 and enlightened from above, that you may know it, and your 
 hearts ojiened, that you may be hap])y by receiving it. 
 
 The Apostle, speaking of Jesus Christ as the foundation of
 
 TirR rinsT epistlk of rRTEit. 93 
 
 our faith, calls him The same yesterday, and to-day, and for 
 ever. (Heb. xiii. 8.) Yesterday, under the Law, to-day, in 
 those primitive times, nearest his incarnation, and for ever, in 
 all succeeding ages. And the resemblance holds good between 
 the two cherubim over the mercy-seat, and the two testa- 
 ments : those had their faces toward one another, and both 
 toward the mercy-seat ; and these look to one another in 
 their doctrine, agreeing perfectly, and both look to Christ, the 
 true mercy- seat, and the great subject of the Scriptures. 
 Thus we see here : the things which the Prophets foretold as 
 to come, and the Apostles reported were accomplished, were 
 the same, and from the same Spirit ; they were the sufferinys 
 of Christ, and his after-glory, and in them our salvation by 
 free grace. The prophecies look forward to the times of the 
 Gospel ; and the things then fulfilled, look back to the pro- 
 phecies; and each confirms the other, meeting all in Christ, 
 wlio is their truth and centre. 
 
 We have spoken already of the Author, and Subject of this 
 salvation. Now we come to say something. III. Concerning 
 the worth of those who are employed about it, as well in ad- 
 ministering to it, as in admiring it. And these are, the Pro- 
 phets and the Apostles : the first foretold what was to come, 
 the second preached them when they came to pass. 
 
 In the Prophets, there are three things here remarked. 
 1. Their dihgence. 2. The success of it. 3. The extent of 
 its usefulness. 
 
 1. This their diligence disparages not their extraordinary 
 visions and revelations, and that which is added, that the 
 Spirit of Christ was in them, and did foretel the things to 
 come. 
 
 It was their constant duty, and they being sensible of their 
 duty, made it their constant exercise, to search into Divine 
 mysteries by meditation and prayer ; yea, and by reading 
 such holy writers as were already extant in their times, as 
 Daniel ix. 3; x. 11. For which cause, some, taking the word 
 actively, conceive Daniel to be called there a man of desires,
 
 94 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 because of his great desire, and diligent search after the know- 
 ledge of tliose higli things. And in this diligent way they 
 constantly waited for those revelations which sometimes when 
 it seemed good unto the Spirit of God, were imparted unto 
 them. 
 
 '^ Prophecy resideth not (say the Hebrew doctors) but in a 
 " man who is great in wisdom and virtue, whose affections 
 " overcome him not in any worldly things, but by^his know- 
 " ledge he overcometh his affections continually ; on such a 
 " man the Holy Spirit cometh down, and his soul is associated 
 " to the angels, and he is changed to another man." Thus 
 Maimonides. 
 
 It was the way of the prince of darkness amongst the idola- 
 trous Gentiles, to speak either through senseless statues, or 
 where he uttered his oracles by such profane prophets as he 
 had, to cause them in a fury to mumble forth words which they 
 understood not, and knew not what they said. But the Spirit 
 of God being Light, and the holy prophets inspired with it, 
 they being diligent attendants on its motions, and searchers of 
 the mysteries of salvation, understood well what their business 
 was, and to what purpose those things of the kingdom of 
 Christ tended, which they by inspiration did foretel ; and 
 therefore bended their thoughts tliis way, praying, and search- 
 ing, and waiting for answers, studying to keep the passage, as 
 it were open, for the beams of those divine revelations to come 
 in at; not to have their spirits clogged and stopped with 
 earthly and sinful affections, endeavouring for that calm and 
 quiet composure of spirit, in which the voice of God's spirit 
 might be the better heard. See Psal. Ixxx. 8, and Hab. 
 ii. 1 ; in both which places follows an excellent pro])]iecy con- 
 cerning Christ and that salvation which he wrought for his 
 peopk\ 
 
 Were the prophets not exempted from the pains of search 
 and incj^uiry, who had the Spirit of God not only in a lilgh 
 measure, but after a singular manner? How unbeseeming, 
 then, arc slothfulness and idleness in us ! Whether is it that
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 95 
 
 we judge ourselves advantaged with more of the Spirit than 
 those holy men, or that we esteem the doctrine and mysteries 
 of salvation, on which they bestowed so much of their labour, 
 unworthy of ours? These are both so gross, that we shall be 
 loth to own either of them ; and yet, our laziness and negli- 
 gence in searching after these things, seems to charge us with 
 some such thought as one of those. 
 
 You will say, This concerns those who succeed to the work 
 of the Prophets and Apostles in ordinary, — the ministers of 
 the Gospel. And it doth indeed fail first upon them. It is 
 their task indeed to be diligent, and, as the Apostle exhorts 
 his Timothy, to attend on reading, (1 Tim. iv. 13) ; but, 
 above all, to study to have much experimental knowledge of 
 God, and his son Jesus Christ, and for this end, to disentangle 
 and free themselves, as much as is possible, from lower things, 
 in order to the search of heavenly mysteries. (Prov. xviii. 1.) 
 As they are called angels, so ought they to be, as much as 
 they can attain to it, in a constant nearness unto God, and at- 
 tendance on him, like unto the angels, and to look much into 
 these things as the angels here are said to do ; to endeavour to 
 have their souls purified from the affections of sin, that the light 
 of Divine truth may shine clear in them, and not be fogged, 
 and misted with filthy vapours ; to have the impressions of God 
 clearly written in their breasts, not mixed and blurred with 
 earthly characters ; seasoning all their readings and common 
 studies with much prayer and divine meditation. They who 
 converse most with the king, and are inward with him, know 
 most of the affairs of state, and even the secrets of them, which 
 are hid from others : and certainly those of God's messengers 
 who are oftenest with himself, cannot but understand their 
 business best, and know most of his meaning, and the affairs 
 of his kingdom ; and to that end it is confessed, that singular 
 diligence is required in them. But seeing the Lord hath said 
 without exception, that His secret is with them that fear him, 
 (Psal. XXV. 14,) and that he will reveal Himself and his saving 
 truths to those that humbly seek them ; do not any of you to
 
 96 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 3'ourselves so much injury, as to debar yourselves from sharing 
 in your measure of the search of these same things, which were 
 the study of the prophets, and which by then- study and 
 publishing them, are made the more accessible and easy to us. 
 Consider tliat they do concern us universally, if we would be 
 saved; for it is salvation here that they studied. Search the 
 Scriptures, says our Saviour, (John v. 39,) and that is the 
 motive, if there can be any that may be thought in reason 
 pressing enough, or if we do indeed think so, For in them ye 
 think to have eternal life. And it is there to be found : Christ 
 is this salvation and this eternal life. And he adds further, 
 It is they (these Scriptures) that testify of me. These are 
 the golden mines in which alone the abiding treasures of eter- 
 nity are to be found, and therefore worthy all the digging and 
 pains we can bestow on them. 
 
 Besides their industry in this inquiry and search, there are 
 here expressed their ardent affection to the thing they prophe- 
 sied ofj and their longings and wishes for its accomplishment, 
 viz., the coming of Jesus Christ, the promised Messiah, the 
 top of all their desires, the great Hope and the Light of Israel. 
 No wonder they desired his day, who had so much joy in the 
 seeing it so far oft*, as over the head almost of two thousand 
 years. Faith overlooking them, and foreseeing it so in Abra- 
 ham, his heart danced for joy. (John viii. 5(j.) Abraham saw 
 my day and rejoiced. 
 
 And this is conceived to be the meaning of those expressions 
 in that mystical song, as they suit those times of the Jewish 
 Church, breathing out her longings for the coming of her be- 
 loved. His speaking by the prophets was his voice as afar off; 
 but his incarnation was his coming near, and kissing his Church 
 with tJie kisses of his mouth. (Cant. i. 1.) And to omit other 
 expressions throughout the song, the last chapter, ver. 1, is 
 tender and pathetical, O / that thou ivert as my brother, &c. ; 
 and the last words of it, Make haste, my beloved, and be thou 
 like a Til!', or a youmj hart vpon the mountains of spices. And 
 Mheu this salvation c^me iu the fulness of time, wc see how
 
 THE FIRST KFISTLE OF TETF-R. 97 
 
 joyfully good old Simeon embraces it, and thought he had seen 
 enough, and therefore upon the sight desired to have his eyes 
 closed : Now let thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes 
 have seen thy salvation. (Luke ii. 29.) Therefore our Saviour 
 says to his Apostles, (Matt. xiii. 16,) Blessed are your eyes 
 for tJiey see, for many prophets and riyhteous men haoe desired 
 to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them. This 
 is He, whom we disesteem and make so small account of, being 
 now so clearly revealed, whom they studied and sought, and 
 wished so much for, so many ages before. 
 
 2dly. The success of their search is remarked ; in seeking 
 they found the certainty, and the time of his coming ; they 
 sought out till they found, and then they prophesied of that 
 salvation and grace ; they searched what, and what manner of 
 time, and the Spirit did manifestly foretcl it them. 
 
 They sought to know what manner of time it should come 
 to pass, viz., in a time of great distress, and bad estate of the 
 people, as all the prophets testify ; and particularly that place, 
 (Gen. xlix. 10,) gives an express character of the time ; though 
 there be some diversity of exposition of the particular words, 
 yet the main sense is agreed on by all sound interpreters, and 
 the Chaldee paraphrase hath it expressly, that that Shiloh is 
 the Messiah. 
 
 And of his sufferings and after-glories they prophesied very 
 clearly, as Psal. xxii., Isa. liii., &c. And our Saviour him- 
 self makes use of their testimony in both these points, (Luke 
 xxiv. 25—27.) 
 
 ^ddly. There is the benefit of their search and finding, in the 
 
 extent of it, (verse 12,) to the believers in the Apostles' times, 
 
 and to the succeeding Christian Church, and so to us in these 
 
 days ; but in some peculiar sense the Prophets ministered to 
 
 the people of those times wherein Christ did suffer and enter 
 
 into glory, inasmuch as they were the first who enjoyed the 
 
 accomplishment of those prophecies, they being fulfilled in 
 
 their own days. 
 
 The Prophets knew well that the things they prophesied 
 Vol. I. U
 
 98 A COMMENTAP.Y UPON 
 
 were not to be fulfilled in their own times, and therefore in 
 tlieir prophesying concerning them, though both themselves 
 and the people of God who were contemporary with them did 
 reap the comfort of that doctrine, and were by faith partakers 
 of the same salvation, and so it was to themselves as well as of 
 us, yet in regard of the accomplishment, they knew it was not 
 to themselves, it was not to be brought to pass in their days ; 
 and therefore, speaking of the glory of Christ's kingdom, they 
 often foretel it for the latter days, as their phrase is. And as 
 we have the things they prophesied of, so we have this peculiar 
 benefit of their prophecies, that their suiting so perfectly with 
 the event and performance, serves much to confirm our Chris- 
 tian faith. 
 
 There is a foolish and miserable way of verifying this expres- 
 sion, — men ministering the doctrine of salvation to others and 
 not to themselves : carrying it all in their heads and tongues, 
 and none of it in their hearts ; not hearing it even while they 
 preach it ; extending the bread of life to others, and eating 
 none of it themselves. And this the Apostle says that he was 
 most careful to avoid, and therefore dealt severely with his 
 body, that it might not in this way endanger his soul. / beat 
 doivn my body, says he, and keep it in subjection, lest, when I 
 have jjreached to others, I myself should be a cast-aicay, 
 (1 Cor. ix. 27). It is not in this sense that the prophets mini- 
 stered to others, and not to themselves. No, they had joy and 
 comfort in the very hopes of the Redeemer to come, and in the 
 belief of the things which any others had spoken, and w-hich 
 themselves spake concerning him. And thus the true preachers 
 of the Gospel, though their ministerial gifts are for the use of 
 others, yet that salvation which they preach, they lay hold on 
 and partake of themselves ; as your boxes, wherein pcifumes 
 are kept for garments and other uses, are themselves perfumed 
 by keeping them. 
 
 We see how the Prophets ministered it as the never-faiHng 
 consolation of the Church in those days, in all their distresses. 
 It is wonderful when they arc foretelling cither the sorrows
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF I'ETKR. 99 
 
 and afflictions, or the temporal restoration and deliverances of 
 that people of the Jews, what sudden outlcaps they will make, 
 to speak of the kingdom of Jesus Christ and the days of the 
 Gospel, insomuch that he who considers not the spirit they 
 were moved by, would think it were incoherence and impcrti- 
 nency : but they knew well what they meant, that those news 
 were never unseasonable, nor beside the purpose, that the 
 sweetness of those thoughts, viz., the consideration of the 
 Messiah, was able (to such as believed) to allay the bitterest 
 distresses, and that the great deliverance He was to work, was 
 the top and sum of all deliverances. Thus their prophecies of 
 Him were present comfort to themselves and other believers, 
 then : and further, were to serve for a clear evidence of the 
 Divine truth of those mysteries in the days of the Gospel, in 
 and after their fulfilment. 
 
 This sweet stream of their doctrine did, as the rivers, make 
 its own banks fertile and pleasant as it ran by, and flowed still 
 forward to after ages, and by the confluence of more svich pro- 
 phecies, grew greater as it went, till it fell in with the main 
 current of the Gospel in the New Testament, both acted and 
 preached by the Great Prophet himself whom they foretold as 
 to come, and recorded by his apostles and evangelists, and thus 
 united into one river clear as crystal. This doctrine of salva- 
 tion in the Scriptures, hath still refreshed the city of God, his 
 church under the Gospel, and still shall do so, till it empty 
 itself into the ocean of eternity. 
 
 The first discovery we have of this stream nearest its source, 
 the eternal purpose of Divine mercy, is in that promise which 
 the Lord himself preached in few words to our first parents, 
 Avho had newly made themselves and their race miserable : 
 The seed of the woman shall break the head of the serpent, 
 (Gen. iii. 15). 
 
 The agreement of the predictions of the Prophets with the 
 things themselves, and the preaching of the Apostles following, 
 (the other kind of men employed in this salvation,) make up 
 one organ, or great instrument, turned by the same hand, and 
 
 H 2
 
 100 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 sounding by the same brcalli of the spirit of God : and that is 
 expressed liere, as the common audiority of the doctrine in 
 both, and the cause of their harmony and agreement in it. 
 
 All these extraordinary (jifts of the Holy Ghost, the calling 
 of prophets and apostles and evamjelists, and the ordinary 
 ministry of the Gospel by j^astors and teachers, tend to that 
 great design which God hath in building his churcJi, in making 
 up that great assembly of all the elect, to enjoy and praise him 
 for all eternity, (Eph. iv. 11). For this end he sent his Son out 
 of his bosom, and for this end he sends forth his messengers to 
 divulge that salvation which his Son hath wrought, and sends 
 clown his Spirit upon them, that they may be fitted for so high 
 a service. Those cherubim wonder how guilty man escapes 
 their flaming swords, and re-enters paradise. The angels see 
 that their companions who fell are not restored, but behold 
 their room filled up with the spirits of just men, and they envy 
 it not : Which mystery the angels desire to look into ; and 
 this is added in the close of these words for the extolling of it. 
 
 The angels look upon what they have seen already fulfilled, 
 with delight and admiration, and what remains, namely, the 
 full accomplishment of this great work in the end of time, they 
 look upon with desire to see it finished ; it is not a slight glance 
 they take of it, but they fix their eyes and looks steadfastly on 
 it, vix,, that mystery of godliness, God manifested in tlie flesh ; 
 and it is added, seen of angels, (1 Tim. iii. IG). 
 
 llie Word made flesh, draws the eyes of those glorious 
 spirits, and possesses them with wonder to see the Almighty 
 Godhead joined with the weakness of a man, yea of an infant. 
 He that stretchelh forth the heavens bound up in swaddling 
 clothes ! and to surpass all the wonders of his life, this is be- 
 yond all admiration, that the Lord of life was subject to death, 
 and that his love to rebellious mankind, moved him both to 
 take on and lay down that life. 
 
 It is no wonder the angels admire these things, and delight 
 to look u])un them ; but it is strange that we do not so. They 
 view them steadfastly, and wo neglect them : either we consider
 
 TIIK FIllST El'ISTLE OF rKTER. lOl 
 
 them not at all, or give them but a transient look, half an eye. 
 That -which was the great business of the Prophets and 
 Apostles, both for their own times, and to convey them to us, 
 we regard not ; and turn our eyes to foolish wandering thoughts, 
 which angels are ashamed at. They are not so concerned in 
 this great mystery as Ave are ; they are but mere beholders, in 
 comparison of us, yea, they seem rather to be losers some way, 
 in that our nature, in itself inferior to theirs, is in Jesus Christ 
 exalted above theirs, (Heb, ii. IG). We bow down to the 
 earth, and study, and grovel in it, rake into the very bowels of 
 it, and content ourselves with the outside of the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ, and look not within it : but they, having no 
 will nor desire but for the glory of God, being pure flames of 
 fire burning only in love to him, are no less delighted than 
 amazed with the bottomless wonders of his wisdom and good- 
 ness shining in the work of our redemption. 
 
 It is our shame and our folly, that we lose ourselves and 
 our thoughts in poor childish things, and trifle away our days 
 we know not how, and let these rich mysteries lie unregarded. 
 They look up, upon the Deity in itself with continual admira- 
 tion ; but then they look dov/n to this mystery as another 
 wonder. We give them an ear in public, and in a cold formal 
 way stop conscience's mouth with some religious performances 
 in private, and no more ; but to have deep and frequent 
 thoughts, and to be ravished in the meditation of our Lord 
 Jesus, ohce on the cross, and now in glory, — how few of us 
 are acquainted with this ! 
 
 We see here excellent company, and examples not only of 
 the best of men that have been, — we have them for fellow-ser- 
 vants and fellow-students, — but, if that can persuade us, we 
 may all study the same lesson with the very angels, and have 
 the same thoughts with them. This the soul doth, which often 
 entertams itself with the delightful admiration of Jesus Christ 
 and the redemption he hath wrought for us.
 
 102 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Ver. 13, Wherefore, gird up the loins of your mind, be sober and hope 
 to the end, for the gi'ace that is to be brought unto you at the reve- 
 lation of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Tlie great error of man's mind, and the cause of all his errors 
 of life, is the diverting of the soul from God, and turning 
 downward to inferior confidences and comforts ; and this mis- 
 choice is the very root of all our miseries ; therefore the main 
 end of the holy word of God, is to untie the hearts of men 
 from the world, and reduce them to God, as their only rest 
 and solid comfort ; and this is here the Apostle's mark at which 
 all the preceding discourse aims : it all meets and terminates 
 in this exhortation. Wherefore, gird up the loins of your mind. 
 
 In the words are these three things, Is^, The great stay and 
 comfort of the soul, which the Apostle repeats, and represents 
 to his afflicted brethren, ^dhj, His exciting them to the right 
 apprehension and confident expectation of it. Qdly, The in- 
 ference of that exhortation. 
 
 I. The great matter of their comfort is. The grace which is 
 to be brought to them at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 
 Some for grace read joy, having, as it seems, for %dpiv read 
 Xocpsiv ; the words are not more near one to another, than the 
 things they signify, grace and joy ; but it is most commonly 
 thus read. 
 
 The estate of grace and that of glory, are not only so insepa- 
 rably connected, but so like one to the other ; yea, so essentially 
 the same, that the same expressions in Scripture do often fit 
 both of them ; and so fit them, that it is doubtful for which of 
 the two to understand them : but the hazard is not great, see- 
 ing they are so near, and so one, grace being glory begun, and 
 glory grace completed, and both are often called the kingdom 
 of God. So tlie grace here said to be brought to them, is 
 either the Doctrine of grace in the Gospel, wherein Jesus 
 Christ is revealed, and that grace in him ; (for the whole tenor 
 of the coveuant of grace, every clause of it, holds in him ; His 
 ])recious name runs through it all;) or, it is the Grace of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 103 
 
 salvation which is to be fully perfected at the last and clearest 
 revelation of Jesus Christ. And for this rather I take it here, 
 inasmuch as the Apostle*'s nearest foregoing words were con- 
 cerning it, and it is set up here as the object of hope, which, 
 though often put for faith, yet, in its proper notion, looks out 
 to that which is to come. 
 
 This is the last act of grace, and yet still it is called by its 
 own name, and not turned into the name of merit, notwith- 
 standing all the obedience and all the sufferings of the saints 
 that have gone before it ; yea, even the salvation to be revealed 
 to them, is called Gi'ace. But it is needless to insist on this, 
 for certainly none who partake of grace, will be of another 
 mind, or ever admit the mixture of the least notion of self- 
 deserving. 
 
 Though much dispute hath been bestowed on this, and 
 questions have been multiplying in the disputant's hands, (as 
 is usual in controversies,) one growing out of another, yet 
 truly I think the debate in this matter to be but waste ; it is 
 not only against the voice of the Scriptures, and of grace itself 
 in the soul, but even against sound reason, to imagine any 
 meriting, properly taken, in any mere creature at his Creator's 
 hand, who hath given him his being : of which gift all his 
 services and obedience fall short, so that he can never come to 
 be upon even disengaged terms, much less to oblige anew, and 
 deserve somewhat further. Besides, that same grace by which 
 any one serves and obeys God, is likewise his own gift, as it is 
 said, (1 Chron. xxix. 14,) All thimjs come of tJiee, and of 
 thine own have I given thee. Both the ability and the will of 
 giving to him, are from him ; so that in these respects, not 
 angels, nor man in innocency, could properly merit at the 
 hands of God, much less man lost, redeemed again, and so 
 coming under the new obligation of infinite mercy. And this 
 is so evident a truth, that the most learned and most ingenious 
 Jesuits and schoolmen have in divers passages of their writings 
 acknowledged it, that there cannot be any compensation, and 
 much less merit from the creature to God, but onlv in relation
 
 104 A COMMENTAIIY UrON 
 
 to his own free purpose, and the tenor of his Mord and cove- 
 nant, Avliich is inviolable, because he is unchangeable, and 
 truth itself. 
 
 His first grace he gives freely, and no less freely the in- 
 creases of it, and with the same gracious hand sets the crown 
 of glory upon all the grace that he hath given before. It is 
 but the following forth of his own work, and fulfilling his own 
 thoughts of free love, which love hath no cause but in himself, 
 and finds none worthy, but gives them all the worthiness they 
 liavc, and accepts of their love, not as worthy in itself to be 
 accepted, but because he himself hath wrought it in them. 
 Not only the first tastes, but the full draught of the waters of 
 hfe is freely given; (Rev. xxii. 17 ;) nothing is brought with 
 them but thirst. 
 
 That is to Ije brougJit.'\ Not that is brought, or, that shall 
 be brought, but, if we will render it strictly, it is, that is a 
 bringing to you. That blessedness, that consummation of 
 grace the saints are hastening forward to, walking on in their 
 way wheresoever it lies indifferently, through honour and dis- 
 honour, tlirough evil report and good report, (2 Cor. vi. 8). 
 And as they are hastening to it, it is hastening to them in the 
 course of time ; every day brings it nearer to them than be- 
 fore ; and notwithstanding all difficulties and dangers in the 
 Avay, they who have their eye and hopes upon it, shall arrive 
 at it, and it shall be brought safe to their hand; all the malice 
 of men and devils shall not be able to cut them short of this 
 grace that is a bringing to them against the day of the revela- 
 tion of Jesus Christ. 
 
 At the revelation of Jesus Christ.^ This is repeated from 
 the 7th verse. And it is termed a day of revelation, a reve- 
 hilion of the just judgment of God, (llom. ii. 5). And thus 
 it would be to all, Mere it not that it is withal the revelation 
 of Jesus Christ ; therefore is it a day of grace, all light and 
 blessedness to them who are in him, because they shall 
 appear in him, antl if he be glorious, they shall not be inglo- 
 rious and ashamed. Indeed were our secret sins then to be set
 
 THE Vir.ST EPISTLE OF tETEll. 105 
 
 before our own eyes, in tlicir most affrighted visage, and to 
 be set open to tlie view of angels and men, and to the eye of 
 Divine justiee, and we left alone so revealed, who is there that 
 could gather any comfort, and would not rather have their 
 thoughts filled with horror at the remembrance and expecta- 
 tion of that day ? And thus indeed all unbelieving and un- 
 godly men may look upon it, and find it terrible ; but to those 
 who are shadowed under the robe of I'ighteous Jesus, yea, who 
 are made one with him, and shall partake of his glory in his 
 appearing, it is the sweetest, the most comfortable thought that 
 their souls can be entertained and possessed withal, to remem- 
 ber this glorious revelation of their Redeemer. 
 
 It is their great grief here, not that themselves are hated and 
 vilified, but that their Lord Jesus is so little known, and 
 therefore so much despised in the world. He is vailed and 
 hid from the world. Many nations acknowledge him not 
 at all ; and many of those that do in Avord confess, yet in 
 deed deny him. Many that have a form of godliness, do not 
 only want, but mock and scoff" at the power of it ; and to such 
 Christ is not known, his excellencies are hid from their eyes. 
 NoAv this glory of their Lord being precious to them that love 
 him, they rejoice much in the consideration of this, that there 
 is a day at hand, wherein he shall appear in his brightness and 
 full of glory to all nations, and all shall be forced to acknow- 
 ledge him ; it shall be without doubt and unquestioned to 
 all, that he is the Messiah, the Redeemer, the Judge of the 
 World. 
 
 And as it is the day of His revelation, it is also the revelation 
 of all the adopted sons of God in him. (See Rom. viii. 9.) They 
 are now accounted the refuse of the world, exposed to all kinds 
 of contempt ; but then the beams of Christ's glory shall beautify 
 them, and they shall be known for his. See 1 John iii. 2; 
 Col. iii. 4. 
 
 Next, there is, II. The exhortation, by which the Apostle 
 excites them to the right apprehension and confident expectation 
 of this grace — Hope to the end. The difference of these two
 
 106 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 graces, faith and hope, is so small, that the one is often taken 
 for the other in Scripture; it is but a different aspect of the 
 same confidence, /a I'i A apprehending die infallible truth of those 
 Divine promises of whicli Jiope doth assuredly expect the accom- 
 plishment, and that is their truth ; so that this immediately 
 results from the other. This is the anchor fixed within the 
 vail, which keeps the soul firm against all the tossings on these 
 swelling seas, and the winds and tempests that arise upon them. 
 The firmest thing in this inferior world, is, a believing soul. 
 
 Faith establishes the heart on Jesus Christ, and hope lifts it 
 up, being on that rock, over the head of all intervenient dan- 
 gers, crosses, and temptations, and sees the glory and happiness 
 that follow after them. 
 
 To the endJ\ Or perfectly: and therefore the Christian 
 seeks most earnestly, and yet waits most patiently. (Psal. cxxx. 
 6.) Indeed this hope is perfect in continuance, it is a hope 
 unto the end, because it is perfect in its nature, although im- 
 perfect in degree. Sometimes doubtings are intermixed with 
 it in the souls of Christians, yet this is their infirmity, as the 
 Psalmist speaks, (Psal. Ixxvii. 10,) not the infirmity and insuffi- 
 ciency of the object of their hope. Worldly hopes are in their 
 own nature imperfect ; they do imjily in their very being, 
 dou])tfulness and wavering, because the things w^hereon they 
 arc built, are inconstant and uncertain, and full of deceit and 
 disappointments. How can that hope be immoveable, which 
 is built upon moving sands or quagmire.'^ That which is itself 
 unfixed, cannot give stability to any other thing resting upon 
 it ; but because the truth and goodness of the immutable God 
 are the foundation of spiritual hope, therefore it is assured, and 
 like Mount Zion that cannot he removed : (Psal. cxxv. 1 :) and 
 this is its perfection. 
 
 Now the Apostle exhorts his brethren to endeavour to have 
 their hearts possessed with as high a measure and degree of this 
 hope as may be ; seeing in itself it is so perfect and firm, so 
 assured an hope, he would have them aspire to all the assu- 
 rance and perfection of it they can attain.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER, 107 
 
 This exercise of hope, as I conceive, is not only to have the 
 habit of it strong in tlie soul, but to act it often, to be often 
 turning that way, to view that approaching day of liberty : 
 Lift up your heads, for the day of your redemption draweth 
 nigh. (Luke xxi. 28.) Where this hope is often acted, it will 
 grow strong, as all habits do, and where it is strong, it will 
 Avork much, and delight to act often, and will control both 
 the doublings and the other many impertinent thoughts of the 
 mind, and force them to yield the place to it. Certainly, they 
 who long much for that coming of Christ, will often look up to 
 it. We are usually hoping after other things, Avhich do but 
 offer themselves to draw us after them, and to scorn us. What 
 are the breasts of most of us, but so many nests of foolish hopes 
 and fears intermixed, which entertain us day and night, and 
 steal away our precious hours from us, that might be laid out 
 so gainfully upon the wise and sweet thoughts of eternity, and 
 upon the blessed and assured hope of the coming of our beloved 
 Saviour ! 
 
 The other words of exhortation here used, are subservient to 
 this end, that this hope may be the more perfect and firm ; a 
 similar exhortation is much after the same manner joined by 
 our Saviour (Luke xii. 35) with the expectance and wait- 
 ing for his coming ; and in this posture the Israelites, eating 
 the passover, were expecting their deliverance ; so we our full 
 and final freedom. 
 
 If you would have much of this, call off your affections from 
 other things, that they may be capable of mucli of it. The 
 same eye cannot both look up to Heaven and down to earth at 
 the same time. The more your affections are trussed up, and 
 disentangled from the world, the more expedite and active will 
 they be in this hope : the more sober they are, the less will 
 they fill themselves with the coarse delights of earth, the more 
 room will there be in them, and the more they shall be filled 
 with this hope. It is great folly in our spiritual warfare, to 
 charge ourselves superfluously. The fuhiess of one thing, 
 hinders the receiving and admittance of any other, especially of
 
 108 A COMMENTARY TTI'ON 
 
 things so opposite as these fuhiesscs are. Be not drunJc with 
 wine, u-Jierein is excess, but be ye Jilted ivith the Holy Ghost, 
 saitli the Apostle, (Ephes. v. 18.) That is a brutish fulness, 
 -which makes a man no man ; this Divine fulness makes him 
 more than a man ; it were happy to be so filled with this, as 
 that it might be called a kind of drunkenness, as it was with 
 the Apostles. (Acts ii.) 
 
 Be sober.'] Or watch. The word signifies both, and 
 Avith good reason; for you know the unsober cannot watch. 
 Now though one main part of sobriety, and that which more 
 properly and particularly bears this name, viz., temperance in 
 meat and drink, is here intended ; and though against the 
 opposite to this, not only the purity and spirituality of religion, 
 but even moral virtue inveighs as its special enemy, yea nature 
 itself; and they that only naturally consider the body and its 
 interest of life and health, find reason enough to cry down this 
 base intemperance, which is so hateful by its own deformity, 
 and withal carries its punishment along with it ; although (I 
 say) this sobriety is indeed most necessary for the preservation 
 of grace and of the spiritual temper of the soul, and is here 
 intended, yet I conceive, it is not all that is here meant ; the 
 word is more general, comprehending the moderate and sober 
 use of all things w^orldly. As the Apostle savs, 6* rrcZ vj) the 
 loins of your mind, so it is to be understood, let your minds 
 be sober, all your affections inwardly attempered to your 
 spiritual condition, not glutting yourselves with fleshy and 
 perishing delights of any kind ; for the more you take in of 
 these, the less you shall have of spiritual comfort and of this 
 perfect hope. They that pour out themselves upon present 
 delights, look not like strangers here, and hopeful expectants 
 of another life and better pleasures. 
 
 And certainly, the Captain of our salvation will not own 
 them for his followers, who lie down to drink of these waters, 
 but only such as in passing take of them with their hand. As 
 excessive eating or drinking both makes the body sickly and 
 lazy, fit fur nothing but sleep, and besots the mind, as it cloys
 
 TIIK FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEK. 109 
 
 up with filtliy crudities tlio way tlirouoli which tlic spirit should 
 pass, bemiring thcni, and making thcni move heavily, as a 
 coach in a deep way ; thus doth all immoderate use of the 
 world and its delights, wrong the soul in its spiritual condition, 
 makes it sickly and feeble, full of spiritual distempers and 
 inactivity, benumbs the graces of the Spirit, and fills the soul 
 with sleepy vapoui's, makes it grow secure and heavy in spiritual 
 exercises, and obstructs the way and motion of the Spirit of 
 God in the soul. Therefore, if you would be spiritual, health- 
 ful, and vigorous, and enjoy much of the consolations of 
 Pleaven, be sparing and sober in those of the earth, and what 
 you abate of the one, shall be certainly made up in the other. 
 Health, with a good constitution of body, is more a constant 
 permanent pleasure, than that of excess, and a momentary 
 pleasing of the palate : thus, the comfort of this hope, is a more 
 refined and more abiding contentment, than any that is to be 
 found in the passing enjoyments of this world ; and it is a 
 foolish bargain to exchange a drachm of the one for many 
 pounds of the other. Consider liow prcssingly the Apostle St. 
 Paul reasons, (1 Cor. ix. 25,) And every man that striveth 
 for the mastery^ is temperate in all thimjs. And take withal 
 our Saviour's exhortation : Be sober and ivatch,for ye know 
 not at ivhat hour your Lord will come. (Matt. xxv. 13.) 
 
 The double-minded man (says St. James) is unstable in all 
 his ivays, (Jam. i. 8). Although the word usually signifies 
 deceitfulness and dissimulation of mind, — answering to the 
 Hebrew phrase, a heart and a heart, — yet here I conceive it 
 hath another sense, agreeable to the Apostle's present discourse 
 and scope ; it implies doubtfulness and unsettled wavering of 
 mind. 
 
 It is impossible that the course of life can be any other than 
 uneven and incomposed, if the spring of it, the heart, whence 
 are the issues of life, be so. A man that is not agreed within, 
 not of one mind with himself, although there were nothing to 
 trouble or alter him from without, that inward commotion is a 
 sufficient principle and cause of inconstancy. How much
 
 110 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 more then must he waver, when he is assaulted, and beat upon 
 by outward oppositions ! He is like the waves of the sea, of 
 himself ever fluctuating to and fro, according to the natural 
 instability of that element, and at the same time exposed to 
 the tossings of all the waves that arise. 
 
 It is, therefore, in religion a main thing, to have the heart 
 established and fixed in the belief and hope of the great things 
 we look for : this will beget strength of resolution, and con- 
 stancy in action, and in suffering too. And this is here our 
 Apostle's great intent, to ballast the souls of his brethren with 
 this firm belief, that they might sail even and steady in those 
 seas of trouble. AVherefore, (says he,) if these things we have 
 spoken be thus, if there is indeed truth in them, and you be- 
 lieve it to be so, what remains then, but to resolve for it upon 
 any terms, to fit out for the journey, whatsoever be the diffi- 
 culties, and amid them all to keep up the soul by that certain 
 hope that will not disappoint us ? 
 
 What he hath said before, is, as it were, shewing them some 
 fruits, some clusters of grapes, of that promised land ; and 
 this exhortation is answerable to Caleb's words, (Numb. xiii. 
 80,) Seeing it so good a land, lei iis go up and j^ossess if. 
 Though there be fleshly objects, sons of Anak, giants of 
 temptations, and afflictions, and sins to be overcome, ere it be 
 ours, yet it is well worth all our labour, and our God hath 
 ascertained us of the victory, and given us by his own word, 
 undoubted hope of possessing it. 
 
 Tliat which he principally exhorts unto in this verse, is, the 
 right placing and firm continuing of our hope. When we 
 consider how much of our life is taken up this way, in hoping 
 for things we have not, and that even they who have most of 
 what others are desiring and pursuing, are still hoping for 
 somewhat further, that when men have attained one thing, 
 though it be something they promised themselves to rest con- 
 tented withal, yet presently upon obtaining it, hope begins to 
 find out some new matter for itself ; I say, considering the in- 
 cessant working of this passion throughout our life, it is of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. Ill 
 
 very much concernment for us to give it a right object, and 
 not still to be living in vanity and uncertainty. Here is, then, 
 that for our hope to apply itself to, after which it needs not 
 change, nor can change without the greatest loss. Hope for 
 the (jrace that is coming at the revelation of Jesus Christ ; 
 bestow all your hope on this, and recall it not. Hope perfectly, 
 and to the end. 
 
 The other part of the exhortation relates to this as the main 
 end, and in the original runs in this form: Wherefore, girding 
 7ip the loins of your mind, being sober, hope. And to the 
 end that hope may be the more perfect and endure to the end, 
 and be more like itself, i. e. heavenly, your minds must be 
 freed from the earth, that they may set for Heaven. And this 
 is expressed in two several words, but both meaning much the 
 same thing : that temper of sobriety, and that posture of being 
 girt, are no other than the same removal of earthly-minded- 
 ness and incumbering cares and desires of earthly things. 
 
 Gird up the loins.^ The custom of those countries was, 
 that wearing long garments, they trussed them up for work or 
 a journey. Chastity is indeed a Christian grace, and a great 
 part of the soul's freedom and spiritualness, and fits it much 
 for Divine things, yet I think it is not so particularly and en- 
 tirely intended in this expression, as St. Jerome and others 
 take it ; for though the girding of the loins seemed to them to 
 favour that sense, it is only an allusion to the manner of gird- 
 ing up which was then used ; and besides, the Apostle here 
 makes it clear that he meant somewhat else ; for he says, llie 
 loins of your minds. Gather up your affections that they hang- 
 not down to hinder you in your race, and so, in your hopes 
 of obtaining ; and do not only gather them up, but tie them 
 up, that they fall not down again, or if they do, be sure to gird 
 them straiter than before. Thus be still as men prepared for 
 a journey, tending to another place. This is not our home, 
 nor the place of our rest : therefore our loins must be still girt 
 up, our affections kept from training and dragging down upon 
 the earth.
 
 112 A COMMENTAllY UPON 
 
 INIen wlio arc altogetlier earthly and profane, are so far from 
 girding uj) the loins of their mind, that tliey set them wholly 
 downwards. The very highest part of their soul is glued to 
 the earth, and they are daily partakers of the serpent's curse, 
 they go on their belly and eat the dust : they mind cart lily 
 Ihlncjs. (Phil. iii. 19.) Now this disposition is inconsistent 
 with grace ; but they that are in some measure truly godly, 
 though they grovel not so, yet may be somewhat guilty of suf- 
 fering their affections to fall too low, that is, to be too much 
 conversant with vanity, and further engaged than is meet, to 
 some things that are worldly ; and by this means they may 
 abate of their heavenly liojies, and render them less perfect, 
 less clear and sensible to their souls. 
 
 And because they are most subject to take this liberty in 
 the fair and calm weather of prosperity, God doth often wisely 
 and mercifully cause rough blasts of affliction to arise upon 
 them, to make them gather their loose garments nearer to them, 
 and gird them closer. 
 
 Let us then remember our way, and where we are, and keep 
 our garments girt up, for we walk amidst thorns and briers 
 which, if we let them down, will entangle and stop us, and 
 possibly tear our garments. We walk through a world where 
 there is much mire of sinful pollutions, and therefore it cannot 
 but defile them : and the crowd we are among, will be ready 
 to tread on them,^ea, our own feet may be entangled in them, 
 and so make us stumble and possibly fall. Our only safest 
 way is to gird up our affections wholly. 
 
 This jK'rfect hope is enforced by the whole strain of it : for 
 well may we fix our hope on that happiness to which we are 
 appointed in the eternal election of God, (ver. 2,) and born to 
 it by our new birth, (ver. 3, 4,) and preserved to it by his al- 
 mighty })owcr, (ver. .j,) and cannot be cut short of it by all the 
 afflictions and oppositions in the way; no, nor so much as de- 
 prived by them of our present joy and comfort in tlie assurance 
 of it, (ver. 6, 7, 8, 9). And then, being taught the great- 
 ness and excellency of that blessed salvation, by the doctrine of
 
 TTIE FinST El'ISTLE OF PETER. 
 
 113 
 
 the Prophets and Apostles, and the achniration of Angels, all 
 these conspire to confirm our hope, to make it perfect and pcr- 
 •severinfj to the end. 
 
 And we may also learn by the forcooing doctrine, that this 
 is the place of our trial and conflict, but the place of our rest 
 is above. We must here have our loins (jirf, but when we 
 come there, we may Avear our long white robes at their full 
 length without disturbance, for there is nothing there but 
 peace, and without danger of defilement, for no unclean thing 
 is there, yea the streets of that new Jerusalem are paved with 
 gold. To Him then, who hath prepared that city for us, let 
 us ever give praise. 
 
 Ver. 14. As obedient children, not fashioning yourselves according to 
 the former lusts, in your ignorance. 
 
 15. But as he which hath called you is holy, so be ye holy in all 
 manner of conversation. 
 
 IG, Because it is written, Be ye holy, for I am holy. 
 
 Thy word is a lamp unto my feet^ says David, and a light 
 unto my paths (Psal. cxix. 105) : not only comfortable, as light 
 is to the eyes, but withal directive, as a lamp to his feet. 
 Thus here, the Apostle doth not only furnish consolation 
 against distress, but exhorts and directs his brethren in the 
 way of holiness, without which, the apprehension and feeling 
 of those comforts cannot subsist. 
 
 This is no other than a clearer and fuller expression, and 
 further pressing of that sobriety and spiritualness of mind and 
 life, which he jointly exhorted unto, with that duty of perfect 
 hope, (ver. 13,) as inseparably connected with it. If you would 
 enjoy this hope, be not conformed to the lusts of your former 
 ignorance, but he holy. 
 
 There is no doctrine in the world either so pleasant or so 
 pure as that of Christianity : it is matchless, both in sweetness 
 and holiness. The faith and hope of a Christian have in them 
 an abiding precious balm of comfort ; but this is never to be 
 so lavished away, as to be poured into the puddle of an impure 
 
 Vol. I. I
 
 114 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 conscience : no, that were to lose it unworthily. As many aa 
 have this hope purify themselves, even as He is pure. (1 John 
 iii. ,'3.) Here they are commanded to be holy as He is holy. 
 Faith first purifies the heart, (Acts xv. 9,) empties it of the 
 love of sin, and then fills it with the consolation of Christ and 
 the hope of glory. 
 
 It is a foolish, niisgrounded fear, and such as argues inexpe- 
 rience of the nature and workings of Divine grace, to imagine 
 that the assured hope of salvation will beget unholiness and 
 ])resumptuous boldness in sin, and that therefore the doctrine 
 of that assurance is a doctrine of licentiousness. Our Apostle, 
 we see, is not so sharp-sighted as these men think themselves ; 
 he apprehends no such matter, but indeed sup])oses the con- 
 trary as unquestionable ; he takes not assured hope and holi- 
 ness as enemies, but joins them as nearest friends : //ope 2J<^>'' 
 fecf.ly and be holy. 
 
 They are mutually strengthened and increased each by the 
 other. The more assurance of salvation, the more holiness, 
 the more delight in it, and study of it, as the only way to that 
 end. And as labour is most pleasant when we are made surest 
 it shall not be lost, nothing doth make the soul so nimble and 
 active in obedience as this oil of gladness, this assured hope of 
 glory. Again, the more holiness there is in the soul, the 
 clearer always is this assurance ; as we see the face of the 
 lieavens best when there are fewest clouds. The greatest 
 affliction doth not damp this hope so much as the smallest sin — 
 yea, it may be the more lively and sensible to the soul by 
 affliction ; but by sin it always suffers loss, as the experience 
 of all Christians does certainly teach them. 
 
 The Apostle exhorts to obedience, and enforceth it by a 
 most persuasive reason. His exhortation is, I. Negative, Not 
 fashioning yourselves. II. Positive, Be ye holy. 
 
 I. For the negative part of the exhortation. That from 
 \vhich he would remove and separate them, is Jousts : this is in 
 Scripture the usual name of all the irregular and sinful desires 
 o'' the heart, both the polluted habits of them and their cor-
 
 THE FIRST KPISTT-E OF PETER. 115 
 
 rupt streams, botli as tlicy exist within, and as they outwardly 
 Vent tliemsclves in the lives of men. The Apostle St. John 
 (1 John ii. 17) calls it the Lust of the world, and (verse 15) 
 Love of the ivorld ; and th\?n (verse 16) branches it into 
 those three, which are, indeed, the base anti-trinity that the 
 world worships, The lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh, and 
 the pride of life. 
 
 The soul of man, unconverted, is no other than a den of 
 impure lusts, wherein dwell pride, uncleanness, avarice, malice, 
 &c., just as Babylon is described, Revel, xviii. 2, or as Isai. 
 xiii. 21. Were a man's eyes opened, he would as much abhor 
 to remain with himself in that condition as to dwell in a house 
 full of snakes and serpents, as St. Austin says. And the first 
 part of conversion is at once to rid the soul of these noisome 
 inhabitants ; for there is no one at all found naturally vacant 
 and free from them. Thus the Apostle here expresses of the 
 believers to whom he wrote, that these lusts were theirs before, 
 in their ignorance. 
 
 There is a truth implied in it, viz., that all sin arises from 
 some kind of ignorance, or, at least, from present inadvertence 
 and inconsideration, turning away the mind from the light ; 
 which therefore, for the time, is as if it were not, and is all one 
 with ignorance in the effect. And therefore the works of sin 
 are all called works of darkness ; for were the true visage of 
 sin seen by a full light, undressed and unpainted, it were im- 
 possible, while it so appeared, that any one soul could be in love 
 with it ; it would rather fly it, as hideous and abominable. But 
 because the soul unrenewed is all darkness, therefore it is all 
 lust and love of sin ; there is no order in it, because no light. 
 As at the first in the world, confusion and darkness went toge- 
 ther, and darkness was upon the face of the deep, it is so in 
 the soul ; the more ignorance, the more abundance of lusts. 
 
 That light which frees the soul, and rescues it from the very 
 kingdom of darkness, must be somewhat beyond that which 
 nature can attain to. All the light of philosophy, natural and 
 
 moral, is not sufficient, yea, the very knowledge of the law, 
 
 12
 
 116 A, COMMENTARY UTOX 
 
 severed from Christ, serves not so to enlighten and renew the 
 soul, as to free it from the darkness or ignorance here spoken of; 
 for our Apostle writes to Jews who knew the law, and were in- 
 structed in it before their conversion, yet he calls those times, 
 wherein Christ was unknown to them, the times of their iyno- 
 rance. Though the stars shine never so bright, and the moon 
 witli them in its full, yet they do not altogether make it day ; 
 still it is night till the sun appear. Therefore the Hebrew 
 doctors, upon that Avord of Solomon's, Vanity of vanities, all is 
 vanity, say, Vana etiam lex, donee venerit Messias : Vain 
 even the law, until jNIessiah come. Therefore of him Zacharias 
 says, The day-spring from on hiyh hatJi visited us, to give 
 light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, 
 and to guide our feet into the way of peace, Luke i. 78, 79. 
 
 A natural man may attain to very much acquired knowledge 
 of the doctrine of Christ, and may discourse excellently of 
 it, and yet still his soul be in the chains of darkness, fast 
 locked up under the ignorance here mentioned, and so lie may 
 be still of a carnal mind, in subjection to these lusts of igno- 
 rance. 
 
 The saving light of faith is a beam of the Sun of Righte- 
 ousness himself, that he sends into the soul, by which he makes 
 it discern his incomparable beauties, and by that sight alienates 
 it from all those lusts and desires, which do then appear to 
 be what indeed they are, vilcness and filthiness itself, making 
 the soul wonder at itself how it could love such base trash so 
 long, and fully resolve now on the choice of Jesus Christ, the 
 chief among ten thousands, (C'ant. v, 10,) yea, the fairest of 
 the children of men, (Psal, xlv. 2,) for that he is withal the only 
 begotten Son of God, the brightness of his Father's glory, 
 and the express image of his person, (Heb. i. 3.) 
 
 The soul, once acquainted with him, can, with disdain, turn 
 oft' all the base solicitations and imjjortunities of sin, and com- 
 mand them away that formerly had command over it, though 
 they plead former familiarities and the interest they once 
 had in the heart of the Christian before it was enlightened
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLF, OF PRTER. 117 
 
 and renewed. He can well tell them, after his sight of Christ, 
 that it is true, while he knew no better pleasures than they 
 were, he thought them lovely and pleasing, but that one glance 
 of the face of Jesus Christ hath turned them all into extreme 
 blackness and deformity ; that so soon as ever Christ appeared 
 to him, they straightway lost all their credit and esteem in his 
 heart, and have lost it for ever ; they need never look to re- 
 cover it any more. 
 
 And it is by this that the Apostle enforceth this dehortation. 
 It is true, that the lusts and vanities that are in request in the 
 world, were so with you, but it was when you were blind, they 
 were the lusts of your ignorance ; but now you know how ill 
 they will suit with the light of that Gospel which you profess, 
 and that inward light of faith which is in the souls of such as 
 be really believers. 
 
 Therefore, seeing you have renounced them, keep them still 
 at that distance ; not only never admit them more to lodge 
 within you ; that surely you cannot do ; but do not so much 
 as for custom sake, and in compliance with the world about 
 you, outwardly conform yourselves to any of them, or make 
 semblance to partake of them : as St. Paul says, Have no more 
 fellowship ivifh the unfruitful ivorks of darkness, hut rather 
 reprove them (Eph. v. 11) : reprove them by your carriage 
 and let the light of your holy lives discover their foulness. 
 
 II. We have the positive part of the Apostle's exhortation, 
 Be ye holy. This includes the former, the renouncing of the 
 lusts and pollutions of the world, both in heart and life ; and 
 adds to it, further, the filling of their room, being cast out, with 
 the beautifying graces of the Spirit of God, and the acting of 
 those graces in their whole conversation both in private and 
 abroad, in conversing with themselves, and conversing with 
 others, whether good or bad, in a constant even course, still 
 like themselves, and like Him who hath called them : for it is a 
 most unseemly and unpleasant thing, to see a man's life full of 
 ups and downs, one step like a Christian, and another like a
 
 118 A COMMENTAKY UPON 
 
 ■worldling ; it cannot choose but both pain himself and mar the 
 edification of others. 
 
 Bat as he which hath called you is holy.'\ Consider whose 
 you are, and you cannot deny that it becomes you to be holy. 
 Consider your near relation to the holy God ; this is expressed 
 two ways, namely. As children, and yls he ivhich hath called 
 you ; M'hicli is all one as if he had said, hath begotten you again. 
 The very outward vocation of those who profess Christ, presseth 
 holiness upon them, but the inward vocation far more. You 
 were running to destruction in the way of sin, and there was a 
 voice which, together with the Gospel preached to your ear, 
 spake into your heart, and called you back from that ])ath of 
 death to the way of holiness, which is the only way of life. He 
 hath severed you from the mass of the profane world, and 
 picked you out to be jewels for himself. He hath set you 
 apart for this end, tliat you maybe holy to Him; (as the 
 Hebrew word which signifies holiness, imports setting apart, 
 or fitting for a peculiar use ;) be not then untrue to His design. 
 He hath not called yon to uncleanness, but itnto holiness 
 (1 Thess. iv. 7) : therefore be ye holy. It is sacrilege for 
 you to dispose of yourselves after the impure manner of the 
 world, and to apply yourselves to any profane use, whom God 
 hath consecrated to himself. 
 
 yls children.'] This is, no doubt, relative to that which he 
 spoke (verse 3) by way of thanksgiving ; and that I'Vhcrefore, 
 in the IStli verse, draws it down hither by way of exhortation. 
 Seeing you are, by a spiritual and new birth, the children of so 
 great and good a Father, who commands you holiness, be 
 obedient children, in being holy ; and seeing he himself is most 
 holy, be like him as his children, Be ye holy, as He is holy. 
 
 As obedient children.] Opposed to that expi-ession, (Eph. 
 ii. 2,) Sons of disobedience, or nnbelicf, as the word may be 
 rendered, and that is always the spring of disobedience; sons 
 of mispersuasibleness, who will not be drawn and persuaded by 
 the tenderest mercies of God. Now, though this Hebrew man^
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 119 
 
 ner of speech, Sons of obedience, or disobedience, signifies no 
 more than obedient or disobedient persons, yet it doth signify 
 tliem most emphatically, and means a high degree of obedience 
 or disobedience : these sons of disobedience (verse 2) are 
 likewise sons of ivrath (verse 3). 
 
 Of all children, the children of God are the most obliged to 
 obedience, for he is both the wisest and the most loving of 
 Fathers. And the sum of all his commands is that which is 
 their glory and happiness, that they endeavour to be like him, 
 to resemble their heavenly Father. Be ye perfect as your 
 heavenly Father is perfect, says our Saviour (Matt. v. 48). 
 And here the Apostle is citing out of the Law : Be ye holy, 
 for I am holy (Levit. xi. 44). Law and Gospel agree in this. 
 Again : children Avho resemble their fathers, as they grow up 
 in years, they grow the more like to them ; thus the children 
 of God do increase in their resemblance, and are daily more 
 and more renewed after his image. There is in them an innate 
 likeness by reason of his image impressed on them in their first 
 renovation, and his Spirit dwelling within them ; and there is 
 a continual increase of it arising from their pious imitation and 
 study of conformity, which is here exhorted to. 
 
 The imitation of vicious men and the corrupt world is here 
 forbidden. The imitation of men's indiff'erent customs is 
 base and servile ; the imitation of the virtues of good men is 
 commendable ; but the imitation of this highest pattern, this 
 primitive goodness, the most holy God, is the top of excellency. 
 It is well said, Summa reliyionis est irnitari quern colis : The 
 essence of religion consists in the imitation of Him we worship. 
 All of us offer Him some kind of worship, but few seriously 
 study and endeavour this blessed conformity. 
 
 There is unquestionably, among those who profess themselves 
 the people of God, a select number who are indeed his children, 
 and bear his image both in their hearts and in their lives ; this 
 impression of holiness is on their souls and their conversation ; 
 but with the most, a name and a form of godhness are all they 
 have for religion. Alas ! we speak of holiness, and we hear of
 
 120 A CO]\niEXTAllY UPON 
 
 it, and ii may be we connucnd it, but we act it not ; or, if we 
 do, it is but an acting of it, in the sense in which the word is 
 often taken for a personated acting, as on a stage in the sight 
 of men ; not as in the sight of our lovely God, lodging it in 
 our hearts, and from thence diffusing it into all our actions. 
 A child is truly like his father, when not only his visage re- 
 sembles him, but still more so his mind and inward disposition ; 
 thus are the true children of God like their heavenly Father 
 in their words and in their actions, but most of all in heart. 
 
 It is no matter though the profane world (which so hates 
 God that it cannot endure his image) do mock and revile ; it 
 is thy honour to be, as David said, (2 Sam. vi. 22,) thus more 
 vile, in growing still more like unto Him in holiness. What 
 though the polite man count thy fashion a little odd and too 
 precise, it is because he knows nothing above that model of 
 goodness which he hath set himself, and therefore approves of 
 nothing beyond it : he knows not God^ and therefore doth not 
 discern and esteem what is most like him. When courtiers 
 come down into the country, the common homebred people 
 possibly think their habit strange ; but they care not for that, 
 it is the fashion at court. What need, then, that the godly 
 should be so tender-foreheaded, as to be put out of countenance 
 because the world looks on holiness as a singularity ; it is the 
 only fashion in the highest court, yea, of the King of Kings 
 himself. 
 
 For I am liohj.'] As it will raise our endeavour high, to 
 look on the highest pattern, so it will lay our thoughts low 
 concerning ourselves. Men compare themselves with men, and 
 readily with the worst, and flatter themselves with that coni- 
 l)arative betterness. This is not the way to see our spots, to 
 look into the muddy streams of profane men's lives ; but look 
 into the clear fountain of the word, and there we may both 
 discern and wash them. Considir tlie infinite holiness of God, 
 and this will humble us to the dust. When Isaiah saw the 
 glory of tile l.ord, and heard the Serajjhim cry, Hohj, holy, 
 /tuly, he cried out of his own and the people's unholincss,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEIl. 121 
 
 JVoe is mo, for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean 
 lijjs, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips ; 
 for mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts. 
 (Chap. vi. 3, 4.) 
 
 Ver, 1 7. And if ye call on the Father, \vho without respect of persons 
 judgeth according to every man's work, pass the time of your sojourning 
 here in feai-. 
 
 Tlie temptations which meet a Christian in the world, to turn 
 him aside from the straight way of obedience and hohness, are 
 either such as present the hope of some apparent good, to draw 
 liim from that way, or the fear of some evil, to drive and 
 affright him from it : and therefore the word of God is much 
 in strengthening the Christian mind against these two ; and it 
 doth it especially, by possessing it both with hopes and fears of 
 a higher nature, that do by far weigh down the other. 
 
 The most frequent assaults of temptation are upon these two 
 passions of the mind ; therefore they are chiefly to be fortified 
 and defended, by a hope and fear opposite to those that do 
 assault us, and sufficiently strong to resist and repel them. 
 
 These two, therefore, our Apostle here urges : 1. The hope 
 of that glory which the Gospel propounds, and so outbids all 
 the proffers of the world, both in the greatness and the certainty 
 of its promises. 2. The fear of God, the greatest and justest 
 judge, alone worthy to be feared and reverenced; the highest 
 anger and enmity of all the world being less than nothing, in 
 comparison of his smallest displeasure. We have here, 
 
 I. This fear. II, The reason enforcing it. III. The 
 term or continuance of it. 
 
 I. The fear itself — In fear. But how suits this with the 
 high discourse that went before, of perfect assured hope, of 
 faith, and love, and joy, yea, joy unspeakable and glorious, 
 arising out of these ? How are all those excellencies fallen, as 
 it were, into a dungeon, when fear is mentioned after them ! 
 Doth not the Apostle St. John say, that True love casteth out 
 fear ? (1 John iv. 18.) And is it not more clearly opposite to 
 perfect or assured hope, and to faith and joy ?
 
 122 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 If ye understand it aright, this is such a fear as doth not 
 prejudice, but preserve those other graces, and the comfort and 
 joy that arise from tliem ; and they all agree so well Avith it, 
 that they are naturally helps to each other. 
 
 It were superfluous to insist on the defining of this passion 
 of fear, and the manifold distinctions of it, either with philoso- 
 phers or divines. The fear here recommended is, out of 
 question, a holy self-suspicion and fear of offending God, 
 which may not only consist with assured hope of salvation, and 
 with faith, and love, and spiritual joy, but is their inseparable 
 companion ; as all divine graces are linked together, (as the 
 heathens said of their three graces,) and, as they dwell toge- 
 ther, they grow or decrease together. The more a Christian 
 believes, and loves, and rejoices in the love of God, the more 
 unwilling surely he is to displease him, and if in danger of 
 displeasing him, the more afraid of it ; and, on the other side, 
 this fear being the true principle of a wary and holy conversa- 
 tion, fleeing sin, and the occasions of sin, and temptations to it, 
 and resisting them when they make an assault, is as a watch or 
 guard that keeps out the enemies and disturbers of the soul, 
 and so preserves its inward peace, keeps the assurance of faith 
 and hope unmolested, and that joy Avhicli they cause, and the 
 intercourse and societies of love betwixt the soul and her 
 beloved, uninterrupted : all which are most in danger when 
 this fear abates and falls to slumbei'ing ; for then, some notable 
 sin or other is ready to break in and put all into disorder, and 
 for a time makes those graces, and the comfort of them to 
 present feeling, as much to seek as if they were not there 
 at all. 
 
 No wonder, then, that the Apostle, having stirred up his 
 Christian brethren, whatsoever be their estate in the world, to 
 seek to be rich in those jewels of faith, and hope, and love, and 
 spiritual joy, and then, considering that they travel amongst a 
 world of thieves and robbers, — no wonder, I say, that he adds 
 this, advises them to give those their jewels in custody, under 
 God, to this trusty. and watchful grace of godly fear; and
 
 THE FIRST ETISTLE OF PETER. 123 
 
 havini^ earnestly cxhoi'tcd tlicni to holiness, he is very fitly 
 particular in this fear, which makes up so great a part of that 
 holiness, that it is often in Scripture named for it all. 
 
 Solomon calls it the beginning or the foj) of ivisdom 
 (Prov. XV, 33) : the word signifies both, and it is both. The 
 beginning of it is the beginning of wisdom, and the progress 
 and increase of it is the increase of wisdom. That hardy 
 rashness which many account valour, is the companion of igno- 
 rance ; and of all rashness, boldness to sin is the most witless 
 and foolish. There is in this, as in all fear, an apprehension 
 of an evil whereof we are in danger. The evil is sin, and the 
 displeasure of God and punishment following upon sin. The 
 godly man judgeth wisely, as the truth is, that sin is the 
 greatest of evils, and the cause of all other evils ; it is a trans- 
 gression of the just law of God, and so a provocation of His 
 just anger, and the cause of those punishments, temporal, 
 spiritual, and eternal, which He inflicts. And then, consider- 
 ing how mighty He is to punish, considering both the power 
 and the reach of his hand, that it is both most heavy and 
 unavoidable, all these things may and should concur to the 
 working of this fear. 
 
 There is, no doubt, a great difference betwixt those two 
 kinds of fear that are usually differenced by the names of 
 servile and filial fear ; but certainly, the most genuine fear of 
 the sons of God, who call him Father, doth not exclude the 
 consideration of his justice and of the punishment of sin which 
 his justice inflicts. We see here it is used as the great motive 
 of this fear, that He judgeth every man according to his 
 ivorks. And David in that Psalm wherein he so much breathes 
 forth those other sweet affections of love, and hope, and delight 
 in God and in his word, yet expresseth this fear even of the 
 justice of God : My flesh, tremhleth for fear of thee, and I am 
 afraid of thy judgments. (Psal. cxix. 120.) The flesh is to 
 be awed by Divine judgments, though the higher and surer 
 part of the soul is strongly and freely tied with the cords of 
 love. Temporal corrections, indeed, they fear not so much in
 
 124 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 themselves, as that impression of wrath that may be upon 
 them for tlieir sins. (Psal. vi. 1.) That is tlie main matter of 
 their fear, because their happiness is in His love, and the light 
 of His countenance, that is their life. They regard not how 
 the world looks upon them ; they care not who frown, so He 
 smile on them ; because no other enemy nor evil in the world 
 can deprive them of this, but their own sin, therefore that is 
 what they fear most. 
 
 As the evil is great, so the Christian hath great reason to 
 fear in regard of his danger of it, considering the multitude, 
 strength, and craft of his enemies, and his own weakness and 
 unskilfulness to resist them. And his sad experience in being 
 often foiled, teacheth him that it is thus ; he cannot be igno- 
 rant of it ; he finds how often his own resolutions and pur- 
 poses deceive Wm. Certainly, a godly man is sometimes 
 driven to Monder at his own fi-ailty and inconstancy. What 
 strange differences will be betwixt him and himself : how high 
 and how delightful at some times are his thoughts of God and 
 the glory of the life to come ; and yet, how easily at another 
 time base temptations will bemire him, or, at the least, molest 
 and vex him ! And this keeps him in a continual fear, and 
 that fear in continual vigilancy and circumspeetness. When 
 he looks up to God, and considers the truth of his promises, 
 and the sufficiency of his grace and protection, and the almighty 
 strength of his Kedeemer, these things fill his soul with con- 
 fidence and assurance ; but when he turns his eye downward 
 again upon himself, and finds so much remaining corruption 
 within, and so many temptations, and dangers, and adversaries 
 without, this forces him not only to fear, but to despair of 
 himself; and it should do so, that his trust in God may be 
 the purer and more entire. Tliat confidence in God will not 
 make him secure and presumptuous in himself, nor that fear 
 of himself make him diflident of God. This fear is not oppo- 
 site to faith, but high-mindedness and presumption are. (See 
 llom. xi. 20.) To a natural man it would seem an odd kind 
 of reasoning, that of the aposlle, riiil. ii. 12, 13; It is God
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 125 
 
 that U'orketh in yon to will and to do of his good pleasure : 
 therefore, (would lie think,) you may save labour, you may sit 
 still and not work, or, if you work, you may work fearlessly, 
 being so sure of His help : but the A^wstle is of another mind ; 
 his inference is, Therefore, work out your own salvation^ and 
 work it with fear and trembling. 
 
 But he that hath assurance of salvation, why should he fear? 
 If there is truth in his assurance, nothing can disappoint him, 
 not sin itself. It is true ; but it is no less true, that if he do 
 not fear to sin, there is no truth in his assurance : it is not the 
 assurance of faith, but the mispersuasion of a secure and profane 
 mind. Suppose it so, that the sins of a godly man cannot be 
 such as to cut him short of that salvation whereof he is assured ; 
 yet they may be such as for a time will deprive him of that 
 assurance, and not only remove the comfort he hath in that, 
 but let in horrors and anguish of conscience in its stead. 
 Though a believer is freed from hell, (and we may overstrain 
 this assurance in our doctrine, beyond Avhat the soberest and 
 devoutest men in the world can ever find in themselves, 
 though they will not trouble themselves to contest and dispute 
 with them that say they have it,) so that his soul cannot come 
 there ; yet some sins may bring as it were a hell into his soul 
 for a time, and this is reason enough for any Christian in his 
 right wits to be afraid of sin. No man would willingly hazard 
 himself upon a fall that may break his leg, or some other bone; 
 though he could be made sure that he should not break his 
 neck, or that his life were not at all in danger, and that he 
 should be perfectly cured, yet the pain and trouble of such a 
 hurt would terrify him, and make him wary and fearful when 
 he walks in danger. The broken bones that David complains 
 of after his fall, may work fear and Avariness in those that hear 
 him, though they were ascertained of a like recovery. 
 
 This fear is not cowardice ; it cloth not debase, but elevates 
 the mind ; for it drowns all lower fears, and begets true forti- 
 tude and courage to encounter all dangers, for the sake of a 
 good conscience and the obeying of God. I'he righteous is
 
 126 A co:\rMENTArtY upon 
 
 bpld as a lion. (Prov. xxviii. 1.) He dares do any thing but 
 offend God ; and to dare to do that is tlie greatest folly, and 
 weakness and baseness in the world. From this fear have sprung 
 all the generous resolutions and patient sufferings of the saints 
 and martyrs of God ; because they durst not sin against Him, 
 therefore they durst be imprisoned, and impoverished, and tor- 
 tured, and die for Him. Thus the prophet sets carnal and 
 godly fear as opposite, and the one expelling the other. (Isa. 
 viii. 12, 13.) And our Saviour, (Luke xii. 4,) Fear not them 
 that hill the body : but fear Him which, after he hath kiUecl, 
 Jiath jjowcr to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, fear Him, 
 Fear not, but fear; and therefore fear, that you may not fear. 
 This fear is like the trembling that hath been observed in some 
 of great courage before battles. Moses was bold and fearless 
 in dealing with a proud and wicked king, but when God ap- 
 peared, he said, (as the apostle informs us,) I exceedinyly fear 
 and quake. (Heb. xii. 21.) 
 
 II. The reason we have here to persuade to this fear is 
 twofold: 1. Their relation to God. 2, Their relation to the 
 world. 
 
 1. To God as their Father and as their Judge. Because 
 you do call him Father, and profess yourselves his children, 
 beyotten again by Him, (for this verse looks back to that ex- 
 pression,) it becomes you, as obedient children to stand in awe, 
 and fear to offend him your Father, and a Father so full of 
 goodness and tender love. But as he is the best Father, so 
 consider that he is withal the greatest and justest Judge: He 
 jiidyes every man according to his work. 
 
 God always sees and discerns men and all their works, and 
 jiidyeth, thai is, accounteth of them, as they are, and sometimes 
 in this life declares this his judgment of them to their own con- 
 sciences, and in some to the view of others, in visible punish- 
 ments and rewards; but the most solemn judgment of all is 
 reserved to that great day which he hath appointed, ivhcrein 
 he will judge the world in righteousness by his Son Jesus, 
 (Acts xvii. 32.)
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 127 
 
 There is liere, the sovereignty of this Judge, the universality 
 of liis judgment, aud the equity of it. All must answer at His 
 great court ; Pie is supreme judge of the world. He made it, 
 and hath therefore unquestionable right to judge it. He 
 judgeth every man ; and it is a most righteous judgment, which 
 hath these two in it : 1. An exact and perfect knowledge of all 
 men's works ; 2. Impartial judgment of them so known. This 
 second is expressed negatively, by removing the crooked rule 
 which man's judgment often follows; it is Avithout consideration 
 of those personal differences which men eye so much. And the 
 first is according to the Avork itself. (Job xxxiv. 19.) He ac- 
 ccpteth not the person of princes, nor regardeth the rich more 
 than the poor ; and the reason is added there, For they are all 
 the work of his hands. He made all the persons, and he 
 makes all those differences Himself as it pleaseth Him; therefore 
 He doth not admire them as we do, no, nor at all regard them. 
 We find very great odds betwixt stately palaces and poor cot- 
 tages, betwixt a prince's robes and a beggar's cloak ; but to 
 God they are all one; all these petty differences vanish in com- 
 parison of his own greatness. Men are great and small, com- 
 pared one with another; but they altogether amount to just 
 nothing in respect of Him. We find high mountains and low 
 valleys on this earth ; but compared with the vast compass of 
 the heavens, it is all but as a point, and hath no sensible great- 
 ness at all. 
 
 Nor regards he any other differences to bias his judgment, 
 from the works of men, to their persons. You profess the true 
 religion, and call him Father; but if you live devoid of his fear, 
 and be disobedient children, he will not spare you because of 
 that relation, but rather punish you the more severely. Because 
 you pretended to be His children, and yet obeyed him not, there- 
 fore you shall find Him your judge, and an impartial judge of 
 your works. Remember, therefore, that your Father is this 
 judge, and fear to offend him. But then, indeed, a believer 
 may look back to the other for comfort, who abuses it not to a 
 sinful security. He resolves thus willingly ; " I will not sin,
 
 19.8 A roMMENTAnV UPON 
 
 because my Father is this just Judge: but for my frailties I 
 will hope for mercy, because the Judge is my Father." 
 
 Their iiwrks.'\ This comprehends all actions and words, 
 yea, thoughts; and each work entirely, taken outside and inside 
 together; for he sees all alike, and judgeth according to all 
 together. He looks on the wheels and paces within, as well as 
 on the handle without, and therefore ought we to fear the least 
 crookedness of our intentions in the best works ; for if we en- 
 tertain any such, and study not singleness of heart, this will 
 cast all, though we pray and hear the word, and preach it, and 
 live outwardly unblameably. And in that great judgment, 
 all secret things shall be manifest; as they are always open to 
 the eye of this Judge, so He shall then open them before men 
 and angels : therefore let the remembrance and frequent con- 
 sideration of this All-seeing Judge, and of that great judgment, 
 waken our hearts, and beget in us this fear. (2 Cor. v. 10, 11.) 
 If you would have confidence in that day, and not fear it when 
 it comes, fear it now, so as to avoid sin : for they that now 
 tremble at it, shall then, when it comes, lift up their faces 
 with joy ; and they that will not fear it now shall then be over- 
 whelmed with fears and terror ; they shall have such a burden 
 of fear then, as that they shall account the hills and mountains 
 lighter than it. 
 
 Pass the time of your sojournimj Jiere in f('a>'-'\ In this I 
 conceive is implied another persuasive of this fear, arising, 
 2. From their relation to this world .You are sojourners and 
 strangers, (as here the word signifies,) and a wary circumspect 
 carriage becomes strangers, because they are most exposed to 
 wrongs and hard accidents. You are encompassed with ene- 
 mies and snares ; how can you be secure in the midst of them ? 
 This is not your rest; watchful fear becomes this your sojourn- 
 ing. Perfect peace and security are reserved for you at home, 
 and that is the last term of this fear : it continues all the time 
 of this sojourning life, dies not before us ; we and it shall ex- 
 pire together. 
 
 III. This, then, is the term or continuance of this fear.
 
 THE FIRfiT KPTSTT.E OF PRTRU. 129 
 
 Blessed is lie t/uit feareth uhcays, says Solomon ; (Prov. 
 xxviii, 1-1 ;) in secret and in society in his own house and in 
 God's. We must hear the word wltli fear, and preach it with 
 fear, afraid to miscarry in our intentions and manners. Serve 
 the Lord ivith fear, yea, in times of inward comfort and joy, 
 yet rejoice with trembling. (Psal. ii. 11.) Not only when a 
 man feels most his own weakness, but when he finds himself 
 strongest. None are so high advanced in grace here below, as 
 to be out of need of this grace ; but when their sojourning 
 shall be done, and they are come home to their father's house 
 above, then no more fearing. No entrance for dangers there, 
 and therefore no fear. A holy reverence of the majesty of 
 God they shall indeed have then most of all, as the angels still 
 have, because they shall see Him most clearly, and because the 
 more he is known, the more he is reverenced ; but this fear 
 that relates to danger, shall then vanish, for in that world there 
 is neither sin, nor sorrow for sin, nor temptation to sin ; no 
 more conflicts, but after a full and final victory, an eternal 
 peace, an everlasting triumph. Not only fear, but faith and 
 hope, do imply some imperfection not consistent with that 
 blessed estate; and therefore all of them, having obtained their 
 end, shall end : faith in sight, hope in jjossession, and fear in 
 perfect safety ; and everlasting love and delight shall fill the 
 whole soul in the vision of God. 
 
 Ver. 18. Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with cor- 
 ruptible things, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation re- 
 ceived by tradition from your fathers. 
 
 19. But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish 
 and without spot. 
 
 It is impossible for a Christian to give himself to conform to 
 the world's ungodliness, unless first he forgets who he is, and 
 by what means he attained to be what he is. Therefore the 
 Apostle, persuading his brethren to holiness, puts them in 
 mind of this, as the strongest incentive. Not only have you 
 the example of God set before you as your Father, to beget in 
 
 Vol. I. K
 
 130 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 you the love of holiness, as being your liveliest resemblance of 
 him ; and the justice of God as your judge, to argue you into 
 a })ious fear of offending him ; but consider this, that he is 
 your Redeemer ; he hath bought out your liberty from sin 
 and the world, to be altogether His ; and think on the price 
 laid down in this ransom ; and these out of question will pre- 
 vail with you. 
 
 , AVe have here, 1. The evil dissuaded from, viz., A vain con- 
 versation. 2. The dissuasion itself. 
 
 1. It is called their vain conversation. 2. Received by tra- 
 dition from their fathers. By this I conceive is to be under- 
 stood, not only the superstitions and vain devices in religion, 
 which abounded amongst the Jews by tradition, for which our 
 Saviour often reproved them while he was conversant among 
 them, as we find in the Gospel ; (and all this was meant, v. 14, 
 by the lusts of their former ignorance ;) but generally, all the 
 corrupt and sinful customs of their lives : for it seems not so 
 pertinent to his purpose when exhorting to holiness of life, to 
 speak of their superstitious traditions, as of their other sinful 
 liabitudes, which are no less hereditary, and, by the power of 
 example, traditional ; which, by reason of their common root in 
 man's sinful nature, do so easily pass from parents to children, 
 nature making their example powerful, and the corruption of 
 nature giving it most power in that which is evil. And this is 
 the rather mentioned to take away the force of it, and cut off 
 that influence wliich it mifjht have had in their minds. There 
 is a kind of conversation that the authority of your fatiiers 
 pleads for ; but remember, that it is that very thing from 
 which you are delivered, and you are called to a new state and 
 form of life, and have a new pattern set before you, instead of 
 that corrupt example. 
 
 It is one great error, not only in religion and manners, but 
 even in human science, that men are ready to take things upon 
 trust, unexamined, from those that went before them, partly 
 out of easiness and sparing the pains of trial, partly out of a 
 superstitious over-esteem of their authority : but the chief
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF l-ETER. 131 
 
 reason why corruptions in religion, and in i.he practice of pre- 
 ceding ages, takes so much with posterity, is that before men- 
 tioned, the universal sympathy and agreement which those 
 evils have with the corrupt nature of man. 
 
 The propliet Ezekiel observes this particularly in the Jews, 
 (chap. XX. ver. 24,) That their eyes were after their fathers' 
 idols, contrary to God's express forewarning (ver. 18). This 
 was the great quarrel of the Heathens against the Christian 
 religion in the primitive times, that it was new, and unknown 
 to their fathers ; and the ancient writers of those times are 
 frequent in showing the vanity of this exception, particularly 
 Lactantius, Tnstit. lib. 2. cap. 7, 8. The same prejudice doth 
 the Church of Rome sing over continually against the reformed 
 religion: AVhere was it before Luther? kc. But this is a 
 foolish and unreasonable diversion from the search of truth, 
 because error is more at hand ; or from the entertaining it, 
 being found, because falsehood is in possession. 
 
 As in religion, so in the course and practice of men's lives, 
 the stream of sin runs fi'om one age into another, and every 
 age makes it greater, adding somewhat to what it receives, as 
 rivers grow in their course by the accession of brooks that fall 
 into them ; and every man when he is born falls like a drop 
 into this main current of corruption, and so is carried down 
 with it, and this by reason of its strength, and his own nature, 
 which willingly dissolves into it, and runs along with it. In 
 this is manifest the power of Divine grace in a man's conver- 
 sion, that it severs him so powerfully from the profane world, 
 and gives him strength to run contrary to the great current of 
 wickedness that is round about him, in his parents possibl}^, 
 and in his kindred and friends, and in the most of men 
 that he meets withal. The voice of God, that powerful 
 word of effectual calling which he speaks in to the heart, 
 makes a man break through all, and leave all to follow God, 
 as Abraham did, being called out from his kindred and father's 
 house, to journey towards the land that God had promised 
 him. And this is that which is spoken to the Church, and 
 
 K 2
 
 132 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 to each believing soul, by the Spirit of God : Forget also tJdne 
 own j)eople and thy father's house, so shall the king greatly 
 delight in thy heaidy (Psal. xlv. 10, 11). Regard not what 
 others think, though they be thy nearest friends, but study 
 only to please Him, and then thou shalt please him indeed. 
 Do not deform thy face Avith looking out asquint to the cus- 
 tom of the world, but look straight forward on Him, and so 
 thou shalt be beautiful in His eyes. When God calls a man 
 in a remarkable manner, his profane friends are all in a tumult ; 
 what needs this to be more precise than Ave and all your neigh- 
 bours ? But all this is a confused noise that works nothing on 
 the heart which the lord hath touched: it must follow Him, 
 though by trampling upon friends and kindred, if they lie in 
 the way. We see how powerfully a word from Christ drew 
 his disciples to leave all and follow him. 
 
 The exhortation is against all sinful and unholy conversation, 
 by what authority and example soever recommended to us. 
 The Apostle's reasons in these words are strong and pressing ; 
 there is one expressed in the very name he gives it ; it is vain 
 conversation. 
 
 The mind of man, the guide and source of his actions, while 
 it is estranged from God, is nothing but a forge of vanities. 
 The Apostle St. Paul speaks this of the Gentiles, that they 
 became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart 
 ivas darkened, (Rom. i. 21,) their great naturalists and philo- 
 sophers not excepted ; and the more they strove to play the 
 wise men, the more they befooled themselves. Thus likewise 
 Eph. iv. 17. And thus the Lord complains by his prophet 
 Isaiah, of the extreme folly of his people, (ch. xliv. v. 20,) and 
 by Jeremy, that their hearts are lodges of vain thoughts 
 (ch. iv. V. 14) ; and these are the true cause of a vain conver- 
 sation. 
 
 The whole course of a man's life out of Christ is nothing 
 but a continual trading in vanity, running a circle of toil and 
 labour, and reaping no profit at all. This is the vanity of 
 every natural man's conversation, that not only others are not
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEll. 133 
 
 benefited by it, but it is fruitless to himself; there arises to 
 him no solid good out of it. That is most truly vain, which 
 attains not its proper end ; now, since all a man's endeavours 
 aim at his satisfaction and contentment, that conversation 
 which gives him nothing of that, but removes him further 
 from it, is justly called vain conversation. What fruit had 
 ye, says the Apostle, in those things ivhcrenf ye are noiv 
 ashamed? (Rom. vi. 21.) Either count that shame which at 
 the best grows out of them, their fruit, or confess they have 
 none ; therefore they are called the unfruitful ivorks of dark- 
 ness. (Ephes. v. 11.) 
 
 Let the voluptuous person say it out upon his death-bed, 
 what pleasure or profit doth then abide with him of all his 
 former sinful delights. Let him tell if there remain any thing 
 of them all, but that which he would gladly not have to re- 
 main, the sting of an accusing conscience, which is as lasting 
 as the delight of sin was short and vanishing. Let the covet- 
 ous and ambitious declare freely, even those of them who have 
 prospered most in their pursuit of riches and honour, what 
 ease all their possessions or titles do then help them to ; whe- 
 ther their pains are the less because their chests are full, or 
 their houses stately, or a multitude of friends and servants 
 waiting on them with hat and knee. And if all these things 
 cannot ease the body, how much less can they quiet the mind ! 
 And therefore is it not true, that all pains in these things, and 
 the uneven ways into which they sometimes stept aside to 
 serve those ends, and generally, that all the ways of sin where- 
 in they have wearied themselves, were vain rollings and toss- 
 ings up and down, not tending to a certain haven of peace and 
 happiness ? It is a lamentable thing to be deluded a whole 
 life-time with a false dream. (See Isaiah ii. 8.) 
 
 You that are going on in the common road of sin, although 
 many, and possibly your own parents, have trodden it before 
 you, and the greatest part of those you now know are in it 
 with you, and keep you company in it, yet, be persuaded to 
 Stop a little, and ask yourselves what is it you seek, or expect
 
 134 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 in tlie end of it. Would it not grieve any labouring man to 
 work hard all the day, and have no wages to look for at night ? 
 It is a greater loss to wear out our whole life, and in the even- 
 ing of our dajs find notliing but anguish and vexation. Let 
 us then think this, that so much of our life as is spent in the 
 ways of sin, is all lost, fruitless, and vain conversation. 
 
 And in so far as the Apostle says here, You are redeemed 
 from this conversation, this imports it to be a servile slavish 
 condition, as the other word, vain, expresses it to be fruitless. 
 And this is the madness of a sinner, that he fancies liberty in 
 that which is the basest thraldom ; as those poor frantic per- 
 sons that are lying ragged, and bound in chains, yet imagine 
 that they are kings, that their irons are chains of gold, their 
 rags robes, and their filthy lodge a palace. As it is misery to 
 be liable to the sentence of death, so it is slavery to be subject 
 to the dominion of sin ; and he that is delivered from the one, 
 is likewise set free from the other. There is one redemption 
 from both. He that is redeemed from destruction by the 
 blood of Christ, is likewise redeemed from that vain and un- 
 holy conversation that leads to it. So, Tit. ii. 14. Our Re- 
 deemer was anointed for this purpose, not to free the captives 
 from the sentence of death, and yet leave them still in prison, 
 but to proclaim liberty to them, and the opening of the pri- 
 son to them that are l)ound. (Isa. Ixi. 1.) 
 
 You easily persuade yourselves that Christ hath died for 
 you, and redeemed you from hell ; but you consider not that, 
 if it be so, he hath likewise redeemed you from your vain con- 
 versation, and hath set you free from the service of sin. Cer- 
 tainly, while you find not that, you can have no assurance of 
 the other : if the chains of sin continue still upon you, for any 
 thing you can know, these chains do bind you over to the other 
 chains of darkness the Apostle speaks of, 2 Pet. ii. 4. Let 
 us not delude ourselves ; if we find the love of sin and of the 
 world work stronger in our hearts than the love of Christ, we 
 are not as yet partakers of his redemption. 
 
 But if we have indeed laid hold upon him as our Redeemer,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEtt. 135 
 
 then are we redeemed from the service of sin ; not only from 
 the grossest profaneness, but even from all kuid of fruitless 
 and vain conversation. And therefore ought we to stand fast 
 in that liberty, and not to entangle ourselves again to any of 
 our former vanities. (Gal. v. 1.) 
 
 Not redeemed with, corruptible thingH.'\ From the high 
 price of our redemption, the Apostle doth mainly enforce our 
 esteem of it, and urge the preservation of that liberty so dearly 
 bought, and the avoiding all that unholiness and vain conver- 
 sation, from which we are freed by that redemption. First, 
 he expresseth it negatively, not with corruptible things ; (Oh ! 
 foolish we, who hunt them, as if they were incorruptible and 
 everlasting treasures !) no, not the best of them, those that are 
 in highest account with men, not with silver and gold ; these 
 are not of any value at all towards the ransom of souls, they 
 cannot buy off the death of the body, nor purchase the con- 
 tinuance of temporal life, much less can they reach to the worth 
 of spiritual and eternal life. The precious soul could not be 
 redeemed but by blood, and by no blood but that of this spot- 
 less Lamb, Jesus Christ, who is God equal with the Father ; 
 and therefore his blood is called The blood of God, (Acts xx.) 
 So that the Apostle may well call it here precious^ exceeding 
 the whole world, and all things in it, in value. Therefore frus- 
 trate not the sufferings of Christ : if he shed his blood to re- 
 deem you from sin, be not false to his purpose. 
 
 As a lamb without blemish.~\ He is that great and ever- 
 lasting sacrifice which gave value and virtue to all the sacrifices 
 under the Law : their blood was of no worth to the purging 
 away of sin, but by relation to his blood; and the laws con 
 cerning the choice of the Paschal Lamb, or other lambs for 
 sacrifice, were but obscure and imperfect shadows of His pu- 
 rity and perfections, who is the undefiled Lamb of God that 
 taketh away the sins of the ivorld. (John i. 29) A lamb in 
 meekness and silence, he opened not his mouth. (Isa. liii. 7.) 
 And in purity here, without spot or blemish. My ivell-beloved.
 
 136 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 says the spouse, is white and ruddy ; (Cant. v. 10 ;) — white 
 in spotless innocency, and red in suffering a bloody death. 
 
 Forasmuch as ye know?[ It is that must make all this 
 effectual, the right knowledge and due consideration of it. Ye 
 do know it already, but I would have you know it better, 
 more deeply and practically : turn it often over, be more in 
 the study and meditation of it. There is work enough in it 
 still for the most discerning mind ; it is a mystery so deep, 
 that you shall never reach the bottom of it, and withal so use, 
 ful, that you shall find always new profit by it. Our folly is, 
 we gape after new things, and yet are in effect ignorant of the 
 things we think we know best. That learned Apostle who 
 knew so much, and spoke so many tongues, yet says, / deter- 
 mined to know nothimj among youy save Jesus Christ, and 
 him crucified. (1 Cor. ii. 2.) And again he expresses this as 
 the top of his ambition. That I may know him, and the power 
 of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings^ being 
 made conformable unto his death. (Phil. iii. 10.) That con- 
 formity is this only knowledge. He that hath his lusts un- 
 mortified, and a heart un weaned from the world, though he 
 know all tlie history of the death and sufferings of Jesus Christ, 
 and can discourse well of them, yet indeed he knows them not. 
 
 If you would increase much in holiness, and be strong 
 against the temptations to sin, this is the only art of it ; view 
 much, and so seek to know much of the death of Jesus Christ. 
 Consider often at how high a rate we were redeemed from sin, 
 aud provide this answer for all the enticements of sin and the 
 world : " Except you can offer my soul something beyond that 
 ** price that was given for it on the cross, I cannot hearken to 
 " you." — " Far be it from me,'^ will a Christian say, who 
 considers this redemption, " that ever I should prefer a base 
 " lust, or anything in this world, or it all, to Him Avho gave 
 " himself to death for me, and paid my ransom with his 
 " blond. His matchless love hath freed me from the mise- 
 " rablc captivity of sin, and hath for ever fastened me to the
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 137 
 
 " sweet yoke of liis obedience. Let him alone to dwell and rule 
 " within mc, and never let him go forth from ray heart, who 
 '' for my sake refused to come down from the cross."" 
 
 Ver. 20, Who verily was fore-ordained before the foundation of the world; 
 but was manifest in these last times for you. 
 
 Of all those considerations (and there are many) that may 
 move men to obedience, there is no one that persuades both 
 more sweetly and strongly, than the sense of God's goodness 
 and mercy towards men ; and amongst all the evidences of 
 that, there is none like the sending and giving of his Son for 
 man's redemption : therefore the Apostle, having mentioned 
 that, insists further on it ; and in these words, expresses, 
 1. The purpose; 2. The performance ; and 3. The application 
 of it. 
 
 1. The purpose or decree fore-hiown ; but it is well ren- 
 dered fore-ordained, for this knowing is decreeing, and there 
 is little either solid truth or profit in the distinguishing them. 
 
 We say usually, that where there is little wisdom there is 
 much chance ; and comparatively amongst men, some are far 
 more foresighted, and of further reach than others : yet the 
 ■wisest and most provident men, both wanting skill to design 
 all things aright, and power to act as they contrive, meet with 
 many unexpected casualties and frequent disappointments in 
 their undertakings. But with God, where both wisdom and 
 power are infinite, there can be neither any chance nor resistance 
 from without, nor any imperfection at all in the contrivance of 
 things within Himself, that can give cause to add, or abate, or 
 alter any thing in the frame of His purposes. The model of 
 the whole world, and of all the course of time, was with Him 
 one and the same from all eternity ; and whatsoever is brought 
 to pass, is exactly answerable to that pattern, for with Him 
 there is no change nor shadow ofturnimj. (James i. 17.) There 
 is nothing dark to the Father of Lights : He sees atone view 
 through all things, and all ages, from the beginning of time to 
 the end of it, yea, from eternity to eternity. And this incom-
 
 138 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 prehensible wisdom is too wonderful for us ; we do but child- 
 ishly stammer when we offer to speak of it. 
 
 It is no wonder that men beat their own brains, and knock 
 their heads one against another, in the contest of their opinions, 
 to little purpose, in their several mouldings of God's decree. 
 Is not this to cut and square God's thoughts to ours, and examine 
 his sovereign purposes by the low principles of human wisdom? 
 How much more learned than all such knowledge, is the 
 Apostle's ignorance, when he cries out, O ! the depth of the 
 riches both of the ivisdom and knowledye of God! how un- 
 searchable are his judgments, and his ways past findbuj out! 
 (Rom. xi. 33.) Why then should any man debate what place, 
 in the series of God's decrees, is to be assigned to this purpose 
 of sending his Son in the flesh ! Let us rather (seeing it is 
 manifest that it was for the redemption of lost mankind) admire 
 that same love of God to mankind, which appears in that pur- 
 pose of our recovery by the Word made flesh ; that before man 
 had made himself miserable, yea, before either he or the world 
 was made, this thought of boundless love was in the bosom of 
 God ; to send his Son forth from thence, to bring fallen man 
 out of misery, and restore him to happiness ; and to do this, 
 not only by taking on his nature, but the curse : to shift it off 
 from us that were sunk under it, and to bear it himself, and by 
 bearing to take it away. He laid on him the iniquity of us 
 all. And to this he was appointed, says the Apostle, Heb. iii. 2. 
 
 Before the foundation of the woiid.~\ This ive understand 
 by faith, that the world was framed by the word of God. 
 (Heb. xi. 3.) Although the learned probably think it evincible 
 ])y human reason, yet some of those who have gloried most in 
 that) and are reputed generally masters of reason, have not seen 
 it by that light. Therefore, that we may have a divine belief 
 of it, we must learn it from the word of God, and be persuaded 
 of its truth by the Spirit of God, that the whole world, and all 
 things in it, were drawn out of nothing by his Almighty power, 
 who is the only eternal and increated IJeing, and therefore the 
 fountain and source of Being to all things.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 139 
 
 FoundationS\ In this word is plainly intimated the resem- 
 blance of the world to a building ; and such a building it is, as 
 doth evidence the greatness of him who framed it ; so spacious, 
 rich, and comely, so firm a foundation, raised to so high and 
 stately a roof, and set with a variety of stars, as with jewels, 
 therefore called, as some conceive it, the ivork of Jiis finfjers, 
 (Psal. viii.,) to express the curious artifice that appears in them. 
 Though naturalists have attempted to give the reason of the 
 earth's stability from its heaviness, which stays it necessarily in 
 the lowest part of the world, yet that abates not our admiring 
 the wisdom and power of God, in laying its foundation so, and 
 establishing it ; for it is His will that is the first cause of that, 
 its nature, and hath appointed that to be the property of its 
 heaviness, to fix it there; and therefore Job alleges this amongst 
 the wonderful works of God, and evidences of his power, that 
 He hamjefh the earth upon nothing. (Job xxvi. 7.) 
 
 Before there was time, or place, or any creature, God, the 
 blessed Trinity, was in Himself, and as the Prophet speaks, 
 inhabiting eternity, completely happy in Himself: but intend- 
 ing to manifest and communicate His goodness. He gave being 
 to the world, and to time with it ; made all to set forth His 
 goodness, and the most excellent of his creatures to contemplate 
 and enjoy it. But amongst all the works he intended before 
 time, and in time effected, this is the master-piece, which is 
 here said to be fore-ordained, the manifesting of God in the 
 flesh for man's redemption, and that by his Son Jesus Christ, 
 as the first born amongst many brethren, in order that those 
 appointed for salvation should be rescued from the common 
 misery, and be made one mystical body, whereof Christ is the 
 head, and so entitled to that everlasting glory and happiness 
 that he hath purchased for them. 
 
 This, 1 say, is the great work, wherein all those glorious 
 attributes shine jointly, the wisdom, and power, and goodness, 
 justice and mercy of God. As in great maps, or pictures, 
 you will see the border decorated with meadows, and fountains, 
 and flowers, &c., represented in it, but in the middle you have
 
 140 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 tlie main design ; thus is this fore-ordained redemption amongst 
 the works of God : all His other works in the world, all the 
 beauty of the creatures, and the succession of ages, and things 
 that come to pass in them, are but as the border to this as the 
 main piece. But as a foolish unskilful beholder, not discerning 
 the excellency of the principal })iece in such maps or pictures, 
 gazes only on the fair border, and goes no further, thus do the 
 greatest part of us; our eyes are taken with the goodly shew of 
 the world and appearance of earthly things : but as for this 
 great work of God, Christ fore-ordained^ and in time sent for 
 our redemption, though it most deserves our attentive regard, 
 yet we do not view and consider it as we ought. 
 
 2. We have the performance of that purpose, Was mani- 
 fested in these last times for you. He was manifested both 
 by his incarnation, according to that word of the Apostle St. 
 Paul, manifested in the flesh, (1 Tim. iii. 16,) and manifested 
 by his marvellous works and doctrine ; by his sufferings and 
 death, resurrection and ascension, by the sending down of the 
 Holy Ghost according to his promise, and by the preaching of 
 the Gospel, in the fulness of time that God had appointed, 
 wherein all the prophecies that foretold his coming, and all the 
 types and ceremonies that figured him, liad their accom- 
 plishment. 
 
 The times of the Gospel are often called the last tim,es, by the 
 prophets; for that the Jewish priesthood and ceremonies being 
 abolished, that which succeedea was appointed by God to re- 
 main the same to the end of the world. Besides this, the time 
 of our Saviour's incarnation may be called the last times, be- 
 cause although it were not near the end of time by many ages, 
 yet in all probability it is much nearer the end of time than the 
 beginning of it. Some resemble the time of his sufferings in 
 the end of the world, to the Paschal Lamb which was slain in 
 the evening 
 
 It was doubtless the fit time; but notwithstanding the school- 
 men offer at reasons to prove the fitness of it, as their humour 
 is to prove all things, none dare, I think, conclude, but if God
 
 THE FIRST EnSTT.E OF PETER. 141 
 
 had so appointed, it might have been either sooner or later. 
 And our safest way is to rest in this, that it was the fit time, 
 because so it pleased Him, and to seek no other reason why, 
 having promised the Messiah so quickly after man''s fall, He 
 deferred his coming about four thousand years, and a great 
 part of that time shut up the knowledge of Himself and the 
 true religion, within the narrow compass of that one nation of 
 which Christ was to be born ; of these and such like things we 
 can give no other reason than that which he teacheth us in a 
 like case, Even so, Father^ because it seemeth good unto thee. 
 (Matt. xi. 26.) 
 
 3. The application of this manifestation, For you.'] The 
 Apostle represents these things to those he writes to, particu- 
 larly for their use ; therefore he applies it to them, but without 
 prejudice of the believers who went before, or of those who 
 were to follow in after-ages. He who is here said to he fore- 
 appointed before the foundation of the world, is therefore called 
 A Lamb slain from the foundation of the ivorld. (Rev. xiii. 8.) 
 And as the virtue of his death looks backward to all pre- 
 ceding ages, Avhose faith and sacrifices looked forward to it ; so 
 the same death is of force and perpetual value to the end of the 
 world. After he had offered one sacrifice for sins, says the 
 author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, (ch. x. ver. 12, 14,) he 
 sat doivn for ever on the right hand of God ; for by one of- 
 fering he hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified. 
 The cross on which he was extended, points, in the length of it, 
 to heaven and earth, reconciling them together ; and, in the 
 breadth of it, to former and following ages, as being equally 
 salvation to both. 
 
 In this appropriating and peculiar interest in Jesus Christ lies 
 our happiness,' without which it avails not that he Avas ordained 
 from eternity, and in time manifested. It is not the general 
 contemplation, but the peculiar possession of Christ, that gives 
 both solid comfort and strong persuasion to obedience and holi 
 ness, which is here the Apostle's particular scope.
 
 142 A COMMEKTAUY UPON 
 
 Ver, 21. Who by him do believe in God that raised liim up from the dead 
 and gave him glory, that your faith and hope might be in God. 
 
 Now, because it is faitli that gives the soul this particular 
 title to Jesus Christ, the Apostle adds this, to declare whom he 
 meant by you. For you, says he, who by him do believe in 
 God, &c. 
 
 Where Ave have, 1. The complete object of faith. 2. The 
 ground or warrant of it. The object, God in Christ. The 
 ground or warrant. In that he raised him up from the dead, 
 and gave him fjhry. 
 
 A man may have, while living out of Christ, yea, he must, 
 he cannot choose but have, a conviction within him, that there 
 is a God ; and further he may have, even out of Christ, some 
 kind of belief of those things that are spoken concerning God ; 
 but to repose on God as his God and his salvation, which is 
 indeed to believe in Him, this cannot be but where Christ is 
 the medium through which we look upon God : for so long as 
 we look upon God through our own guiltiness, we can see 
 nothing but His wrath, and apprehend Him as an armed 
 enemy ; and therefore are so far from resting on Him as our 
 happiness, that the more we view it, it puts us upon the more 
 speed to fly from Him, and to cry out, Who can dwell with 
 everlasting burnings, and abide witJi a consuming fire? But 
 our Saviour, taking sin out of the way, puts himself betwixt our 
 sins and God, and so makes a wonderful change of our appre- 
 hension of Him. When you look through a red glass, the 
 whole heavens seem bloody; but through pure uncoloured glass, 
 you receive the clear light that is so refreshing and comfortable 
 to behold. AVhen sin unpardoned is betwixt, and we look on 
 God through that, we can perceive nothing but anger and 
 enmity in His countenance; but make Christ once the medium, 
 our pure Redeemer, and through Him, as clear transparent 
 glass, the beams of God's favourable countenance shine in upon 
 the soul. The Father cannot look upon his well-beloved Son 
 but graciously and pleasingly. God looks on us out of Christ,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 
 
 143 
 
 sees us rebels, and fit to be condemned : wc look on God as 
 being just and powerful to punish us ; but when Christ is be- 
 twixt, God looks on us in him as justified, and we look on God 
 in him as pacified, and see the smiles of His favourable counte- 
 nance. Take Christ out, all is terrible ; interpose him, all is 
 full of peace : therefore set him always betwixt and by him we 
 shall believe in God. 
 
 The warrant and ground of believing in God by Christ is 
 this, that God raised him from the dead, and gave him glory, 
 which evidences the full satisfaction of his death; and in all that 
 •work, both in his humiliation and exaltation, standing in our 
 room, we may repute it his as ours. If all is paid that could be 
 exacted of him, and therefore he set free from death, then are 
 we acquitted, and have nothing to pay. If he was raised from 
 the dead, and exalted to glory, then so shall we ; He hath 
 taken possession of that glory for us, and we may judge our- 
 selves possessed of it already, because He, our head, possesseth 
 it. And this the last words of the verse confirm to us, imply- 
 ing this to be the very purpose and end for which God, having 
 given him to death, raised him up and gave him glory ; it 
 is for this end, expressly, that our faith and hope might be in 
 God. The last end is, that we may have life and glory through 
 him ; the nearer end, that in the mean while, till we attain 
 them, we may have firm belief and hope of them, and rest on 
 God as the giver of them, and so in part enjoy them before- 
 hand, and be upheld in our joy and conflicts by the comfort of 
 them. And as St. Stephen in his vision. Faith doth, in a spi- 
 ritual way, look through all the visible heavens, and see Christ 
 at the Father's right hand, and is comforted by that in the 
 greatest troubles, though it were amidst a shower of stones, as 
 St. Stephen was. The comfort is no less than this, that being 
 by faith made one with Christ, his present glory, wherein he 
 sits at the Father's right hand, is an assurance to us, that ivhere 
 he is we shall be also. (John xiv. 3.)
 
 144- A COMMENTAEY VTO\ 
 
 Ver. 22. Seeing ye have purified your souls in'obcying the truth through 
 the Spirit, unto unfeigned love of the brethren ; see that ye love one 
 another with a pure heart fervently, 
 
 Jksus Christ is made unto us of God, wisdom, righteous- 
 ness, sanctlficatlon, and redemption. (1 Cor. i. 30.) It is 
 a known truth, and yet very needful to be often represented 
 to us, that redemption and holiness are undivided companions, 
 yea, that we are redeemed on ])urpose for this end, that we 
 should be holy. The pressing of this, we see, is here the 
 Apostle's scope ; and having by that reason enforced it in the 
 general, he now takes that as concluded and confessed, and so 
 makes use of it })articularly to exhort to the exercise of that 
 main Christian grace of brotherly love. 
 
 The obedience and holiness mentioned in the foregoing 
 verses, comprehend the whole duties and frame of a Chris- 
 tian life towards God and men : and havino- urn-ed that in 
 the general, he specifies this grace of mutual Christian love, 
 as the great evidence of their sincerity and the truth of their 
 love to God ; for men are subject to much hypocrisy this w^ay, 
 and deceive themselves: if they find themselves diligent in re- 
 ligious exercises, they scarcely once ask their hearts how they 
 stand affected this way, namely, in love to their brethren. 
 They can come constantly to the church, and pray, it may be, 
 at home too, and yet cannot find in their hearts to forgive an 
 injury. 
 
 As forgiving injuries argues the truth of piety, so it is that 
 which makes all converse both sweet and profitable ; and be- 
 sides, it graces and commends men in their holy profession, to 
 such as are without and strangers to it, yea, even to their 
 enemies. 
 
 Therefore is it that our Saviour doth so much recommend 
 this to his disciples, and they to others, as we see in all their 
 Epistles. He gives it them as the very badge and livery by 
 which iliey sIkhiUI he known for his followers: By this shall all 
 men knoic that you are my disciples, if ye love one another.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLF. OF PETER. l45 
 
 xiii. 35.) And St. Paul is frequent in cxliorting to, and ex- 
 tolling this grace. (See Rom. xii. 10, and xiii. 8 ; 1 Cor. i. 13 ; 
 Gal. V. 13 ; Eph. iv. 2 ; and in many other places.) He calls 
 it the bond of perfccfness, (Col. iii. 14,) — that grace which 
 unites and binds altogether. So doth our Apostle here, and 
 often in this and the other Epistle ; and that beloved disciple 
 St. John, who leaned on our Saviour's breast, drank deep of 
 that spring of love that was here, and therefore it streams forth 
 so abundantly in his writings : they contain nothing so much 
 as this divine doctrine of love. 
 
 We have here, 1. The due qualifications of it. 2. A Chris- 
 tian's obligation to it. 
 
 The qualifications are three ; namely, sincerity, purity, and 
 fervency. The sincerity is expressed in the former clause of 
 the verse, unfeigned love, and repeated again in the latter 
 part, that it be ivith a pure heart, as the purity is included in 
 fervency. 
 
 1. Love must be unfeigned. It appears that this dissimu- 
 lation is a disease that is very incident in this particular. The 
 Apostle St. Paul hath the same word, (Rom. xii. 9,) and the 
 Apostle St. John to the same sense (1 John iii. 18.) That it 
 have that double reality which is opposed to double-dissembled 
 love ; that it be cordial and effectual ; that the professing of it 
 arise from truth of affection, and, as much as may be, be 
 seconded with action ; that both the heart and the hand may 
 be the seal of it rather than the tongue ; not court holy-water 
 and empty noise of service and affection, that fears nothing 
 more than to be put upon trial. Although thy brother with 
 whom thou conversest, cannot, it may be, see through thy 
 false appearances, He Avho commands this love looks chiefly 
 within, seeks it there, and if He find it not there, hates them 
 most who most pretend it ; so that the art of dissembling, 
 though never so well studied, cannot pass in this King's court, 
 to whom all hearts are open and all desires known. When, 
 after variances, men are brought to an agreement, they are 
 much subject to this, rather to cover their remaining malices 
 
 Vol. I. L
 
 146 A COMMENTARY UPQ-ST 
 
 with superficial verbal forgiveness, than to dislodge them, and 
 free the heart of them. This is a poor self-deceit. As the 
 philosopher said to him, who being ashamed that he was espied 
 by him in a tavern in the outer room, withdrew himself to the 
 inner, he called after him, " That is not the way out ; the 
 " more you go that way, you will be the further within it:" 
 so when hatreds are upon admonition not thrown out, but re- 
 tire inward to hide themselves, they grow deeper and stronger 
 than before; and those constrained semblances of reconcilement 
 are but a false healing, do but skin the wound over, and there* 
 fore it usually breaks forth worse again. 
 
 How few there are that have truly maliceless hearts, and 
 find this entire upright affection towards their brethren meeting 
 them in their whole conversation, this law of love deeply im- 
 pressed on their hearts, and from thence expressed in their 
 words and actions, and that is unfeigned love, as real to their 
 brethren as to themselves ! 
 
 2. It must be pure, from a pure heart. This is not all one 
 with the former, as some take it. It is true, doubleness or 
 hypocrisy is an impurity, and a great one ; but all impurity is 
 not doubleness : one may really mean that friendship and 
 affection he expresses, and yet it may be most contrary to that 
 which is here required, because impure ; such a hrotherlij love 
 as that of Simeon and Levi, brethren in iniquity, as the ex- 
 pressing them brethren (Gen, xlix.) is taken to mean. When 
 hearts are cemented together by impurity itself, by ungodly 
 conversation and society in sin, as in uncleanness or drunken- 
 ness, &c., this is a swinish fraternity, a friendship which is 
 contracted, as it were, by Avallowing in the same mire. Call it 
 good fellowship, or what you will, all the fruit that in the end 
 can be expected out of unholy friendliness and fellowship in 
 sinning together, is, to })e tormented together, and to add each 
 to the torment of another. 
 
 The mutual love of Christians must be pure, arising from 
 such causes as are pure and spiritual, from the sense of our 
 Saviour's command and of his example; for he himself joins
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 147 
 
 that with it, A new commandment (jive I you, saith he, that as 
 I have loved you, so you also love one another (John xiii. 34) . 
 They that are indeed lovers of God are united, by that their 
 hearts meet in Him, as in one centre : they cannot but love 
 one another. Where a godly man sees his Father's image, he 
 is forced to love it ; he loves those whom he perceives godly, 
 so as to delight in them, because that image is in them; and 
 those that appear destitute of it, he loves them so as to wish 
 them partakers of that image. And this is all for God : he loves 
 amicum in Deo, et inimicum propter Deum : that is, he loves 
 a friend in God, and an enemy for God. And as the Chris- 
 tian's love is pure in its cause, so in its effects and exercise. His 
 society and converse with any tends mainly to this, that he 
 may mutually help and be helped in the knowledge and love 
 of God ; he desires most that he and his brethren may jointly 
 mind their journey heavenwards, and further one another in 
 their way to the full enjoyment of God. And this is truly the 
 love of a pure heart, which both begins and ends in God. 
 
 S. We must love fervently, not after a cold indifferent man- 
 ner. Let the love of your brethren be as a fire within you, 
 consuming that selfishness which is so contrary to it, and is so 
 natural to men ; let it set your thoughts on work to study how 
 to do others good ; let your love be an active love, intense 
 Avithin you, and extending itself in doing good to the souls and. 
 bodies of your brethren as they need, and you are able : Alium 
 re, alium consilio, alium Gratia : (Seneca de heneficiis, lib. i. 
 c. 2 :) One by money, another by counsel, another by kindness. 
 
 It is self-love that contracts the heart, and shuts out all other 
 love, both of God and man, save only so far as our own inte- 
 rest carries, and that is still self-love : but the love of God 
 dilates the heart, purifies love, and extends it to all men, but 
 after a special manner directs it to those who are more pecu- 
 harly beloved of him, and that is here the particular love re- 
 quired. 
 
 Love of the brethren.'] In this is implied our obligation 
 after a special manner to love those of the household of faith ^
 
 148 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 because they are our hrclhroi. This includes not only, as 
 Abraham saith, tJiaf there omjht to he no strife, (Gen. xiii. 8,) 
 but it binds most strongly to this sincere, and pure, and fer- 
 vent love ', and therefore the Apostle, in the next verse, repeats 
 expressly the doctrine of the mysterious new birth, and ex- 
 plains it more fully, which he had mentioned in the entrance 
 of the Epistle, and again referred to, i;. 14, 17. 
 
 There is in this fervent love, sympathy with the griefs of 
 our brethren, desire and endeavour to help them, bearing their 
 infirmities, and recovering them too, if it may be ; raising them 
 when they fall, admonishing and reproving them as is needful, 
 sometimes sharply, and yet still in love ; rejoicing in their good, 
 in their gifts and graces, so far from envying them, that we be 
 glad as if they were our own. There is the same blood running 
 in their veins : you have the same Father and the same Spirit 
 "within you, and the same Jesus Christ, the head of that glorious 
 fraternity, The first-born among many brethren (Rom. viii. 29) ; 
 of whom the Apostle saith, that He hath re-collected into one, 
 all things in Heaven arid in earth (Eph. i. 10). The word is, 
 gathered them into one head ; and so suits very fitly to express 
 our union in him. In whom, says he in the same Epistle, 
 (Eph. iv. 16,) tJte tvhole body is fitly compacted together ; and 
 he adds that which agrees to our purpose, that this body grows 
 up and edifies itself in love. All the members receive spirits 
 from the same head, and are useful and serviceable one to ano- 
 ther, and to the whole bod v. Thus, these brethren, receiving 
 of the same spirit from their head, Christ, are most strongly 
 bent to the good of one another. If there be but a thorn in the; 
 foot, the back boweth, the head stoops down, the eyes look, the 
 hands reach to it, and endeavour its help and ease : in a word, 
 all the members partake of the good and evil, one of another. 
 Now, by how much this body is more spiritual and lively, so 
 much the stronger must the union and love of the parts of it 
 be each to every other. You arc brethren by the same new 
 birth, and born to the same inheritance, and such an one as 
 i'hall not be an apple of strife amongst you, to beget debates
 
 THE FIRST El'ISTLE OF PETER. 149 
 
 and contentions : no, it is enough for all, and none shall pre- 
 judge another, but you shall have joy in the happiness one of 
 another ; seeing you shall then be perfect in love, all harmony, 
 no difference in judgment or in affection, all your harps tuned 
 to the same new song, which you shall sing for ever. Let that 
 love begin here, which shall never end. 
 
 And this same union, I conceive, is likewise expressed in the 
 first words of the verse. Seeing you arc partakers of that 
 work of sanctification by the same word, and the same Spirit 
 that works it in all the faithful, and are by that called and 
 incorporated into that fraternity, therefore live in it and like it. 
 You are purified to it ; therefore love one another after that 
 same manner purely. Let the profane world scoff at that name 
 of brethren : you will not be so foolish as to be scorned out of 
 it, being so honourable and happy ; and the day is at hand 
 wherein those that scoff you Avould give much more than all 
 that the best of them ever possessed in the world, to be ad- 
 mitted into your number. 
 
 Seeing you have purified your souls in obeying the truth 
 through the Spirit.^ Here is, 1. The chief seat, or subject of 
 the work of sanctification, the soul. 2. The subordinate means, 
 truth. 3. The nature of it, obeying of truth. 4. The chief 
 worker of it, the Holy Spirit. 
 
 For i\\e first, the chief seat of sanctification, the soul: it is 
 no doubt a work that goes through the whole man, renews and 
 purifies all. (Heb. x. 22 ; 2 Cor. vii. 1.) But because it puri- 
 fies the soul, therefore it is that it does purify all. There im- 
 purity begins, (Matth. xv. 18 ;) not only evil thoughts, but all 
 evil actions come forth from the heart, which is there all one 
 with the soul ; and therefore this purifying begins there, 
 makes the tree good that the fruit may be good. It is not so 
 much external performances that make the difference between 
 men, as their inward temper. We meet here in the same place, 
 and all partake of the same word and prayer; but how wide a 
 difference is there, in God's eye, betwixt an unwashed profane
 
 150 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 heart in the same exercise, and a soul purified in some measure 
 in obeying the truth, and desirous to be further purified by 
 further obeying it ! 
 
 Secondly, That wliich is the subordinate means of this 
 purity, is, The Truth, or the word of God. It is truth, pure 
 in itself, and it begets truth and purity in the heart, by teach- 
 ing it concerning the holy and pure nature of God, shewing it 
 and his holy will, which is to us the rule of purity ; and by 
 representing Jesus Christ unto us as the fountain of our purity 
 and renovation, from whose fulness we may receive grace for 
 grace, (John i. 16.) 
 
 Thirdly, The nature of this work, that wherein the very 
 being of this purifying consists, is, the receiving, or obeying 
 of this truth. So Gal. iii. 1, where it is put for right beheving. 
 The chief point of obedience is believing ; the proper obe- 
 dience to truth, is, to give credit to it ; and this divine behef 
 doth necessarily bring the whole soul into obedience and con- 
 formity to that pure truth which is in the word ; and so the 
 very purifying and renewing of the soul, is this obedience of 
 faith, as unbelief is its chief impurity and disobedience ; there- 
 fore, (Acts XV. 9,) Faith is said to purify the heart. 
 
 Fourthly, The chief worker of this sanctification, is, the 
 Holy Spirit of God. They are said here to purify themselves, 
 for it is certain and undeniable, that the soul itself doth act in 
 believing or obeying the truth ; but not of itself, it is not the 
 first principle of motion. They purify their souls, but it is by 
 the Spirit. They do it by His enlivening power, and a puri- 
 fying virtue received from Him. Faith, or obeying the truth, 
 works this purity, but the Holy Ghost works that faith : as in 
 the fore-cited place, God is said to purify their hearts hy faith, 
 vcr. 8. He doth that by giving them the Holy Ghost. The 
 truth is pure, and purifying, yet can it not of itself purify tlie 
 soul, but by the obeying or believing of it ; and the soul can- 
 not obey or believe but by the Spirit which works in it that 
 faith, and by that faith purifies it, and works love in it. The
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 151 
 
 impurity and earthliness of men's minds, is the great cause of 
 disunion and disaffection amongst them, and of all their strifes. 
 (James iv. 1.) 
 
 This Spirit is that fire which refines and purifies the soul 
 from the dross of earthly desires that possess it, and which sub- 
 limates it to the love of God, and of his Saints, because they 
 are his and are purified by the same Spirit. It is the property 
 of fire to draw together things of the same kind : the outward 
 fire of enmities and persecution that are kindled against the 
 godly by the world, doth somewhat, and, if it were more con- 
 sidered by them, would do more, in this knitting their hearts 
 closer one to another; but it is this inward pure and purifying 
 fire of the Holy Ghost, that doth most powerfully unite them. 
 
 The true reason why there is so little truth of this Christian 
 mutual love amongst those that are called Christians, is, be- 
 cause there is so little of this purifying obedience to the truth 
 whence it flows. Faith unfeigned would beget this love un- 
 feigned. Men may exhort to them both, but they require the 
 hand of God to work them in the heart. 
 
 Ver. 23, Being born again, not of corruptible seed: but of incorruptible, 
 by the word of God, which Hveth and abideth for ever. 
 
 The two things which make up the Apostle's exhortation, 
 are the very sum of a Christian's duty ; to walk as obedient 
 children towards God, and as loving brethren one towards 
 another : and that it may yet have the deeper impression, he 
 here represents to them anew that new birth he mentioned 
 before, by which they are the children of God, and so brethren. 
 We shall first speak of this Regeneration ; and then of the 
 Seed. 1st, Of the regeneration itself. This is the great dig- 
 nity of believers, that they are the sons of God, (John i. 12,) 
 as it is the great evidence of the love of God, that He hath 
 bestowed this dignity on them. (1 John iii. 1.) For they are 
 no way needful to Him : He had from eternity a Son perfectly 
 like Himself, the character of His person, (Heb. i. 3,) and one 
 Spirit proceeding from both; and there is no creation, neither
 
 152 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 tlic first nor the second, can add any thing to Those and Their 
 happiness. It is most true of tliat Blessed Trinity, Satis 
 ampliim alter alteri theatnim sumus. But the gracious pur- 
 pose of God to impart His goodness, appears in this, that He 
 hath made himself such a multitude of sons, not only angels 
 that are so called, but man, a little lower than they in nature, 
 yet dignified with this name in his creation : (Luke iii. 38,) 
 Which, was the Son of Adam, which was the Son of God. 
 He had not only the impression of God's footsteps, (as they 
 speak) which all the creatures have, but of His image. And 
 most of all in this is His rich grace magnified, that sin having 
 defaced that image, and so degraded man from his honour, and 
 divested him of that title of sonship, and stamped our polluted 
 nature with the marks of vileness and bondage, yea, with the 
 very image of Satan, rebellion and enmity against God ; that 
 out of mankind thus ruined and degenerated, God should I'aise 
 to himself a new race and generation of sons. 
 
 For this design was the Word made flesh, (John i. 12,) the 
 Son made man, to make men the sons of God. And it is by 
 him alone we are restored to this ; they who receive him, 
 receive with him, and in him, this privilege, v. 12. And 
 therefore it is a sonship by adoption, and is so called in Scrip- 
 tui'e, in difference from his eternal and ineffable generation, 
 who is, and was, the only begotten Son of God. Yet, that we 
 may know that this Divine adoption is not a mere outward re- 
 lative name, as that of men, the sonship of the Saints is here, 
 and often elsewhere in Scripture, expressed by neiv generation, 
 and new birth. They are begotten of God. (John i. 13 ; 
 1 John ii. 29.) A new being, a spiritual life, is communicated 
 to them ; they have in them of their Father's Spirit ; and this 
 is derived to them through Christ, and therefore called his 
 Spirit. (Gal. iv. C.) They arc not only accounted of the family 
 of God by adoption, but by this new birth they are indeed his 
 children, partakers of the Divine nature, as our Apostle ex- 
 presscth it. 
 
 Now though it be easy to speak and hear the words of this
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF FETEU. 153 
 
 doctrine, yet the truth itself that is in it, is so high and mys- 
 terious, that it is altogether impossible, without a portion of 
 this new nature, to conceive of it. Corrupt nature cannot vin- 
 derstand it. What wonder that there is nothing of it in the 
 subtilest schools of philosophers, when a very doctor in Israel 
 mistook it grossly ? (John iii. 10.) It is indeed a great mys- 
 tery, and he that was the sublimest of all the Evangelists, and 
 therefore called the divine, the soaring eagle, (as they compare 
 him,) he is more abundant in this subject than the rest. 
 
 And the most profitable way of considering this regeneration 
 and sonship, is certainly to follow the light of those holy writ- 
 ings, and not to jangle in disputes about the order and manner 
 of it, of which though somewhat may be profitably said, and 
 safely, namely, so much as the Scripture speaks, yet much that 
 is spoken of it, and debated by many, is but an useless expense 
 of time and pains. What those previous dispositions are, and 
 how far they go, and where is the mark or point of difference 
 betwixt them and the infusion of spiritual life, I conceive not 
 so easily determinable. 
 
 If naturalists and physicians cannot agree upon the order of 
 formation of the parts of the human body in the womb, how 
 much less can we be peremptory in the other ! If there be so 
 many wonders (as indeed there be) in the natural structure 
 and frame of man, how much richer in wonders must this 
 Divine and supernatural generation be I See how David 
 speaks of the former. (Psal. xiv. 15.) Things spiritual being 
 more refined than material things, their workmanship must be 
 far more wonderful and curious. But then, it must be viewed 
 with a spiritual eye. There is an unspeakable lustre and 
 beauty of the new creature, by the mixture of all Divine 
 graces, each setting off" another, as so many rich several colours 
 in embroidery ; but who can trace that Invisible Hand that 
 Avorks it, so as to determine of the order, and to say which was 
 first, which 'second, and so on ; whether faith, or repentance, 
 and all graces, S^r. ! This is certain, that these and all graces
 
 154 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 do inseparably make up the same Avork, and are all in the new 
 formation of every soul that is born again. 
 
 If the ways of God's universal providence be untraceable, 
 then, most of all, the workings of His grace are conducted in 
 a secret unperceivable way in this new birth. He gives this 
 spiritual being as the dew, which is silently and insensibly 
 formed, and this generation of the Sons of God is compared to 
 it by the Psalmist (Psal. ex. 3) : they have this original from 
 Heaven as the dew. Except a man be born from above, he 
 cannot enter into the kingdom of God. (John iii. 3.) And it 
 is the peculiar work of the Spirit of God; as He himself 
 speaks of the dew to Job, (Job xxxviii. 28,) Hath the rain a 
 father, or who hath begotten the drops of the dew? The 
 sharpest wits are to seek in the knowledge and discovery of it, 
 as Job speaketh of a way that no fowl knoweth, and ivhich the 
 vidture's exje hath not seen. (Ch. xxviii. ver. 7.) 
 
 To contest much, how in this regeneration He works upon 
 the will, and renews it, is to little purpose, provided this be 
 granted, that it is in His power to regenerate and renew a man 
 at his pleasure : and how is it possible not to grant this, unless 
 we will run into that error, to think that God hath made a 
 creature too hard for himself to rule, or liath willingly ex- 
 empted it ? And shall the works of the Almighty, especially 
 this work, wherein most of all others He glories, fail in His 
 hand and remain Imperfect? Shall there be any abortive 
 births whereof God is the Father ? Shall I bring to the birth, 
 and not cause to bring forth ? (Isa. Ixvi. 9.) No; no sinner 
 so dead, but there is virtue in His hand to revive out of the 
 very stones. Though the most impenitent hearts are as stones 
 within them, yet He can make of them children to Abraham. 
 (Luke iii, 8.) He can dig out the heart of stone, and put a 
 heart of flesh in its place (Ezek. xxvi. 2C) ; otherwise, He 
 would not have made such a promise. Not of flesh, nor of 
 the trill of man, hid of God. (John i. 13.) If His sovereign 
 will is not a sufficient principle of this regeneration, Avhy then
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLK OF PETER. 155 
 
 says the Apostle St. James, Of his own will begat he us? 
 And he adds the subordinate cause, By the word of truth, 
 (James i. 18,) which is here called the immortal seed of this 
 new birth. 
 
 Therefore it is that the Lord hath appointed the continuance 
 of the ministry of this word, to the end that his church may 
 be still fruitful, bringing forth sons unto him ; that the assem- 
 blies of his people may be YxVe flocks of sheep coming up from 
 the washing, none barren amongst them. (Cant. iv. 2.) 
 
 Though the ministers of this word, by reason of their em- 
 ployment in dispensing it, have, by the Scriptures, the relation of 
 parents imparted to them ; (which is an exceeding great dignity 
 for them, as they are called co-workers with God ; and the 
 same apostle that writes so, calls the Galatians his little chil- 
 dren, of ivhom he travailed in birth again till Christ ivere 
 formed in them ; and the ministers of God have often very 
 much pain in this travail;) yet, the privilege of the Father of 
 Spirits remains untouched, which is, effectually to beget again 
 those same spirits which he creates, and to make that seed of 
 the word fruitful in the way and at the season that it may 
 please Him. The preacher of the word, be he never so power- 
 ful, can cast this seed only into the ear ; his hand reaches no 
 further ; and the hearer, by his attention, may convey it into 
 his head ; but it is the supreme Father and Teacher above 
 who carries it into the heart, the only soil wherein it proves 
 lively and fruitful. One man cannot reach the heart of ano- 
 ther ; how should he then renew its fruitfulness ? If natural 
 births have been always acknowledged to belong to God's pre- 
 rogative, (Psal. cxxvii. 3, Lo, children are an heritage of 
 the Lord, and the fruit of the womb is his reward ; and so 
 Jacob answered wisely to his wife's foolish passion. Gen. xxx. 
 2, Am I in God's stead?) how much more is this new birth 
 wholly dependent on His hand ! 
 
 But though this word cannot beget without Him, yet it is 
 by this word that He begets, and ordinarily not without it. It 
 is true that the substantial Eternal Word is to us (as we said)
 
 156 ' A COMMEXTARY UPON 
 
 tlie spring of tliis new birtli and life, the liead from whom the 
 spirits of this supernatural hfe flow ; but tliat by the word 
 here, is meant the Gospel, the Apostle puts out of doubt, verse 
 the last, And this is the ivord ivhich by the yospel is preached 
 unfo you. Therefore thus is this word really the seed of this 
 new birth, because it contains and declares that Other Word, 
 the Son of God, as our life. The word is spoken in common, 
 and so is the same to all hearers; but then, all hearts being 
 naturally shut against it, God doth by his own hand open some 
 to receive it, and mixes it with faith ; and those it renews, 
 and restoreth in them the image of God, draws the traces of it 
 anew, and makes them the Sons of God. My doctrine shall 
 drop as the dew, says Moses. (Deut. xxxii. 2.) The word, as 
 a heavenly dew, not falling beside, but dropped into the heart 
 by the hand of God's own Spirit, makes it all become spiritual 
 and heavenly, and turns it into one of those drops of dew that 
 the children of God are compared to, (Psal. ex. 3,) Thou hast 
 the dew of thy youth. 
 
 The natural estate of the soul is darkness, and the Avord as 
 a Divine light shining into it, transforms the soul into its own 
 nature; so that as the word is called light, so is the soul that is 
 renewed by it. Ye were darkness, but now are ye, not only 
 enlightened, but light in the Lord. (Eph. v. 8.) All the evils 
 of the natural mind are often comprised under the name of 
 darkness and error, and therefore is the whole work of conver- 
 sion likewise signified by light and truth : He begat us by the 
 word of truth. (Jam. i. 18: so 2 Cor. iv. IG, alluding to 
 the first Fiat Lux, or Let there be light, in the creation.) The 
 word brought within the soul by the Spirit, lets it see its own 
 necessity and Christ's sufficiency, convinceth it thoroughly, 
 and causeth it to cast over itself upon him for life ; and this is 
 the very begetting of it again to eternal life. 
 
 So that this efficacy of the word to prove successful seed, 
 dolh not hang ujion the different abilities of the preachers, 
 their having more or less rhetoric or learning. It is true, elo- 
 tpicnce hath a great advantage in civil and moral things, tq
 
 THE FIRST ET-ISTLE OF PETER. 157 
 
 persuade, and to draw the hearers by tlic cars, ahnost wliich 
 way it Mill ; but in this spiritual work, to revive a soul, to 
 beget it anew, the influence of Heaven is the main thing re- 
 quisite. There is no way so common and plain, (being war- 
 ranted by God in the delivery of saving truth,) but the Spirit 
 of God can revive the soul by it ; and the most skilful and 
 authoritative way, yea, being withal very spiritual, yet may 
 effect nothing, because left alone to itself. One word of holy 
 Scripture, or of truth conformable to it, may be the principle 
 of regeneration, to him that hath heard multitudes of excel- 
 lent sermons, and hath often read the whole Bible, and hath 
 still continued unchanged. If the Spirit of God preach that 
 one or any sucli word to the soul, God so loved the world, that 
 he (jave his only begotten Son, that whosoever shoidd believe 
 in him should not perish, but have everlasting life, (John 
 iii. 15,) it will be cast down with the fear of perishing, and 
 driven out of itself by that, and raised up and drawn to Jesus 
 Christ by the hope of everlasting life ; it will believe on him 
 that it may have life, and be inflamed with the love of God, 
 and give itself to Him who so loved the world, as to give His 
 only begotten Son to purchase for us that everlasting life. 
 Thus may that word prove this immortal seed, which, though 
 very often read and heard before, was but a dead letter. A 
 drop of those liquors which are called spirits operates more 
 than large di'aughts of other waters ; one word spoken by the 
 Lord to the heart is all spirit, and doth that , which whole 
 streams of man's eloquence could never effect. 
 
 In hearing of the word, men look usually too much upon 
 men, and forget from what spring the word hath its power ; 
 they observe too narrowly the different hand of the sowers, 
 and too little depend on His hand, who is great Lord of 
 both seed-time and harvest. Bo it sown by a weak hand, or 
 a sti'onger, the immortal seed is still the same ; yea, suppose 
 the worst, that it be a foul hand that sows it, that the preacher 
 himself be not so sanctified and of so edifying a life as you 
 would wish, yet, the seed itself, being good, contracts no de-
 
 158 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 filement, and may be effectual to i-egeneration in some, and to 
 the strengthening of others ; although he that is not renewed 
 by it liimself, cannot have much hope of success, nor reap 
 much comfort by it, and usually doth not seek nor regard it 
 much ; but all instruments are alike in an Almighty hand. 
 
 Hence learn, 1. That true conversion is not so slight a 
 work as we commonly account it. It is not the outward 
 change of some bad customs, Avhich gains the name of a re- 
 formed man, in the ordinary dialect ; it is a new birth and 
 being, and elsewhere called a new creation. Though it be 
 but a change in qualities, yet it is such a one, and the quali- 
 ties are so far different, that it bears the name of the most sub- 
 stantial productions : from children of disobedience, and that 
 which is linked with it, heirs of wrath, to be sons of God and 
 heirs of glory ! They have a new spirit given them, a free, 
 princely, noble spirit, as the word is, (Psal. li. 10,) and this 
 spirit acts in their life and actions. 
 
 2. Consider this dignity, and be kindled with an ambition 
 worthy of it. How doth a Christian pity that poor vanity 
 which men make so much noise about, of their kindred and 
 extraction ! This is worth glorying in indeed, to be of the 
 highest blood-royal, sons of the King of kings by this new 
 birth, and in the nearest relation to Him ! This adds matchless 
 honour to that birth which is so honourable in the esteem of 
 the world. 
 
 But we all pretend to be of this number. AVould we not 
 study to cozen ourselves, the discovery whether we are, or not, 
 would not be so hard. 
 
 In many, their false confidence is too evident ; there is no 
 appearance in them of the Spirit of God, not a footstep like 
 His leading, nor any trace of that character, (Kom. viii. 14,) 
 As many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the chil- 
 dren of God ; not a lineament of God's visage, as their Father. 
 If ye Jcnoiv that He is righteous, (says St. John, eh. ii. ver. 29,) 
 ye know then that every one that doth righteousness is born of 
 J/iui And so, on the other liand, how contrary to tlie most
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 159 
 
 holy God, the lover and fountain of holiness, are they Avho 
 swinishly love to wallow in the mire of unholiness ! Is swear 
 ing and cursing the accent of the regenerate, the children of 
 God ? No; it is the language of hell. Do children delight to 
 indignify and dishonour their father's name ? No ; earthly- 
 mindedness is a countersign. Shall the king's children, they 
 that were brought up in scarlet, (as Jeremiah laments) ern,' 
 brace the dunghill ? (Lam. iv. 5.) Princes, by their high birth 
 and education, have usually their hearts filled with far higher 
 thoughts than mean persons : the children of the poorest sort 
 being pinched that way, their greatest thoughts, as they grow 
 up, are, ordinarily, how they shall shift to live, how they shall 
 get bread ; but princes think either of the conquest or govern- 
 ing of kingdoms. Are you not born to a better inheritance, 
 if, indeed, you are born again : why, then, do you vilify your- 
 selves ? Why are you not more in prayer ? There are no 
 dumb children among those that are born of God ; they have 
 all that Spirit of prayer by which they not only speak, but 
 cj-y, Abba, Father. 
 
 9.dly. We come to consider the seed of this regeneration, the 
 word of God. The most part of us esteem the preaching of 
 the word, as a transient discourse that amuses us for an hour. 
 We look for no more, and therefore we find no more. We re- 
 ceive it not as the immortal seed of our regeneration, as the 
 ingrafted ivord that is able to save our souls (Jam. i. 21). 
 Oh ! learn to reverence this holy and happy ordinance of God, 
 this word of life, and know, that they who are not regenerated, 
 and so saved by it, shall be judged by it. 
 
 Not of corruptible seed.'] It is a main cause of the unsuit- 
 able and unworthy behaviour of Christians, (those that profess 
 themselves such,) that a great part of them cither do not know, 
 or at least do not seriously and frequently consider, what is 
 indeed the estate and quality of Christians, how excellent and 
 of what descent their new nature is ; therefore they are often 
 to be reminded of this. Our Apostle here doth so, and by it 
 binds on all his exhortations.
 
 lOO A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Of this new being we have liere tliese two things specified : 
 
 1. Its high original from God, Begotten arjain of His icord : 
 
 2. That which so much commends oood thino-s, its duration. 
 And this follows from the other ; for if tlie principle of tliis 
 be incorruptihle, itself must be so too. The Avord of God is 
 not only a living and ever-abiding word in itself, but likewise 
 in reference to this new birth and spiritual life of a Christian ; 
 and in this sense that which is here spoken of it is intended : 
 it is therefore called, not only an abiding word, but incorrup- 
 tible seed, which expressly relates to regeneration. And be- 
 cause we are most sensible of the good and evil of things by 
 comparison, the everlastingness of the word and of that spiri- 
 tual life which it begets, is set off by the frailty and shortness 
 of natural life, and of all the good that concerns it. This the 
 Apostle expresseth in the words of Isaiah, in the next verse. 
 
 Ver. 24. For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower 
 of grass: the grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth awa}-. 
 
 In expressing the vanity and frailty of the natural life of man, 
 it agrees very well with the subject to call him flesh, gi^'^'^o 
 to the whole man the name of his corruptible part, both to 
 make the wretched and perishing condition of this life more 
 Sensible, and man the more humble by it : for though by pro- 
 viding all for the flesh, and bestowing his whole time in the 
 endeavours which are of the flesh's concernment, he remembers 
 it too nmch, and forgets his spiritual and immortal part ; yet 
 in that over-eager care for the flesh, he seems, in some sense, 
 to forget that he is flesh, or, at least, that flesh is perishing 
 because flesh ; extending his desires and projects so f\ir for the 
 flesh, as if it were immortal, and should always abide to enjoy 
 and use these things. As the philosopher said of his country- 
 men, u])bralding at once their surfeitings and excess in feasting, 
 and their siiniptuousness in building, " That they ate as if 
 they meant to die to-morrow, and yet built as if they were 
 never to die;" thus, in men's innnoderate pursuits of earth, 
 they seem both to forget they arc any thing else beside flesh,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PKTICH. IGl 
 
 and, in this sense too, to forget that they are flesli, that is, 
 mortal and perishing; they rightly remember neither their 
 immortality nor their mortahty. If we consider what it is to 
 be flesh, the naming of tliat were sufficient to the purpose : All 
 man is flesli; but it is plainer thus, All flesh is grass. Thus, 
 in the Ixxviiitli Psalm, He remembered that theij were hut 
 flesh : that speaks their frailty enough ; but it is added, to make 
 the vanity of their estate the clearer — a ivind that passeth and 
 Cometh not again. So Psal. ciii. 15. As for man, his days 
 are as grass, as a flower of the field so he fl.ourisheh. For 
 the ivind passeth over it and it is gone, and the place thereof 
 shall know it no more. 
 
 This natural life is compared, even by natural men, to the 
 vainest things, and scarcely find they things light enough to 
 express its vanity ; as it is here called grass, so they have com- 
 pared tlie generations of men to the leaves of trees. But the 
 light of Scripture doth most discover this, and it is a lesson 
 that requires the Spirit of God to teach it aright. Teach us, 
 says Moses, (Psal. xc. 12,) so to number our clays, that we 
 may apply our hearts unto wisdom. And David, (Psal. 
 xxxix. 4,) Make me to know my life, how frail I am. So 
 James, (iv. 14,) fVhat is your life! it is even a vapour. And 
 here it is called grass. So Job, (xiv. 1, 2,) Man that is bo'rn 
 of a woman, is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh 
 forth like a flower and is cut down. 
 
 Grass hath its root in the earth, and is fed by the moisture 
 of it for a while ; but besides that, it is under the hazard of such 
 weather as favours it not, or of the scythe that cuts it down ; 
 give it all the forbearance that may be, let it be free from both 
 those, yet how quickly will it wither of itself ! Set aside those 
 many accidents, the smallest of which is able to destroy our 
 natural life, the diseases of our own bodies, and outward vio- 
 lences, and casualties that cut down many in their greenness, 
 in the flower of their youth, the utmost term is not long ; in the 
 course of nature it will wither. Our life is indeed a lighted torch 
 Vol. I. M
 
 162 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 either blown out by some stroke or some wind, or, if spared, 
 yet witliin a while it burns away, and will die out of itself. 
 
 And all the glonj of man.'] This is elegantly added. There 
 is indeed a great deal of seeming difference betwixt the outward 
 conditions of life amongst men. Shall the rich, and honourable, 
 and beautiful, and healthful go in together, under the same 
 name, with the baser and unhappier part, the poor, wretched 
 sort of the world, who seem to be born for nothing but suf- 
 ferings and miseries ? At least, hath the wise no advantage 
 beyond the fools ? Is all grass ? Make you no distinction ? 
 No ; all is grass, or if you will have some other name, be it 
 so : once, this is true, that all flesh is grass ; and if that glory 
 which shines so much in your eyes, must have a difi'erence, 
 then this is all it can have, — it is but the flower of that same 
 grass ; somewhat above the common grass in gayness, a little 
 comelier, and better apparelled than it, but partaker of its frail 
 and fading nature ; it hath no privilege nor immunity that 
 way, yea, of the two, is the less durable, and usually shorter 
 lived ; at the best it decays with it : The grass ivithereth, and 
 the flower thereof fallefh away. 
 
 How easily and quickly hath the highest splendour of a 
 man's prosperity been blasted, either by men's power, or by 
 the immediate hand of God ! The Spirit of the Lord blows 
 upon it, (as Isaiah there sa^'s,) and by that, not only withers 
 the grass, but the flower fades though never so fair. When 
 thou correctest man for iniquity, says David, thou makest his 
 beauty to consume away like a moth. (Psal. xxxix. 11.) How 
 many have the casualties of fire, or war, or shipwreck, in one 
 day, or in one night, or in a small part of either, turned out of 
 great riches into extreme poverty ! And the instances are not 
 few, of those who have on a sudden fallen from the top of honour 
 into the foulest disgraces, not by degrees coming down the 
 stair they went up, but tumbled down headlong. And the 
 most vigorous beauty and strength of body, how doth a few 
 days' sickness, or if it escape that, a few years' time, blast that
 
 THE FIRST KPISTLE OF PFTER. 1G3 
 
 flower ! Yea, those higher advantages which have somewhat 
 both of truer and more lasting beauty in them, the endowments 
 of wit, and learning, and eloquence, yea, and of moral good- 
 ness and virtue, yet they cannot rise above this word ; they are 
 still, in all their glory, but the flower of grass ; their root is in 
 the earth. Natural ornaments are of some use in this present 
 life, but they reach no further. When men have wasted their 
 strength, and endured the toil of study night and day, it is but 
 a small parcel of knowledge they can attain to, and they are 
 forced to lie down in the dust in the midst of their pursuit of 
 it : that head that lodges most sciences, shall within a while 
 be disfurnished of them all ; and the tongue that speaks most 
 languages be silenced. 
 
 The great projects of kings and princes, and they also them- 
 selves, come under this same notion ; al I the vast designs that 
 are framing in their heads, fall to the ground in a moment ; 
 They return to their dust, and in that day all their thoughts 
 perish. (Psal. cxlvi. 4.) Archimedes was killed in the midst 
 of his demonstration. 
 
 If they themselves did consider this in the heat of their 
 affairs, it would much allay the swelling and loftiness of their 
 minds ; and if they who live upon their favour would consider 
 it, they would not value it at so high a rate, and buy it so dear 
 as often they do. Men of loiv degree are vanity, says the 
 Psalmist, (Psal. Ixii. 9,) but he adds, Meri of high degree are a 
 lie. From base, mean persons we expect nothing ; but the 
 estate of great persons promises fair, and often keeps not; 
 therefore they are a lie, although they can least endure that word. 
 
 They are, in respect of mean persons, as the flower to the 
 grass ; a somewhat fairer lustre they have, but no more endur- 
 ance, nor exemption from decaying. Thus, then, it is an uni- 
 versal and undeniable truth : it begins here with ^lon, and is as 
 sure a conclusion as the surest of those in their best demonstra- 
 tions, which they call ^j6t». And as particular men, so whole 
 states and kingdoms have thus their budding, flourishing, and 
 withering, and it is in both as with flowers — when they are 
 
 M 2
 
 164 A C0i\OrE\'TARY UION 
 
 fullest' spread, then they are near their declining and withering. 
 And thus it is with all whole generations of men upon earth : 
 as Solomon says, One goeth and another cometh (Eecl. i. 4) j 
 but not a word of abiding at all. We, in our thoughts, shut 
 up death into a very narrow compass, namely, into the moment 
 of our expiring ; but the truth is, as the moralist observes, it 
 goes through all our life : for we are still losing and spending 
 life as we enjoy it, yea, our very enjoying of it is the spending 
 of it. Yesterday's life is dead to-day, and so shall this day's 
 life be to-morrow. We spend our years, says Moses, as a tale, 
 (Psal. xc. 8,) or as a thought, so swift and vanishing is it. 
 Every word helps a tale towards its end ; while it lasts, it is 
 generally vanity, and when it is done, it vanishes as a sound in 
 the air. What is become of all the pompous solemnities of 
 kings and princes at their births and marriages, coronations 
 and triumphs ? They are now as a dream ; as St. Luke 
 (Acts XXV. 23) calls the pomp of Agrippa and Bernice, (f>av- 
 raff/a, a mere phantasy. 
 
 Hence, learn the folly and pride of man Avho can glory and 
 please himself in the frail and wretched being he hath here, who 
 doats on this poor natural life, and cannot be persuaded to 
 think on one higher and more abiding, although the course of 
 time, and his daily experience tell him this truth, that all flesh 
 is grass. Yea, the Prophet prefixes to these words a command 
 of crying ; they must be shouted aloud in oiu" ears, ere we will 
 hear them, and by that time the sound of the cry is done, we 
 have forgotten it again. Would we consider this, in the midst 
 of those vanities that toss our light minds to and fro, it would 
 give us wiser thoughts, and ballast our hearts ; make them 
 more solid and steadfast in those spiritual endeavours which con- 
 cern a durable condition, a being that abides for ever; in com- 
 parison of which, the longest term of natural life is less than a 
 jTioment, and the happiest estate of it but a heap of miseries. 
 Were all of us more constantly prosperous than any one of us 
 is, yet that one thing were enough to cry down the price we put 
 upon this life, that it continues not. As he answered to one
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 16*5 
 
 who had a mind to flatter liim in the midst of a pompous 
 triumph, by saying, What is wanting here ? Continuance, 
 said he. It was wisely said at any time, but wisest of all, to 
 have so sober a thought in such a solemnity, in which weak 
 heads cannot escape either to be wholly drunk, or somewhat 
 giddy at least. Surely we forget this, when we grow vain upon 
 any human glory or advantage ; the colour of it pleases us, and 
 Ave forget that it is but a flower, and foolishly over-esteem it. 
 This is like that madness upon flowers, which is somewhere 
 prevalent, where they will give as much for one flower, as would 
 buy a good dwelling-house. Is it not a most foolish bargain, 
 to bestow continual pains and diligence upon the purchasing of 
 great possessions or honours, if we believe this, that the best of 
 them is no other than a short-lived flower, and to neglect the 
 purchase of those glorious mansions of eternity, a garland of 
 such flowers as wither not, an unfading crown, that everlasting 
 life, and those everlasting pleasures that are at the right hand 
 of God ? 
 
 Now, that life which shall never end must begin here; it is 
 the new spiritual life, whereof the word of God is the immortal 
 seed ; and in opposition to corruptible seed and the corruptible 
 life of flesh, it is here said to endure for ever. And for this 
 end is the frailty of natural life mentioned, that our aff'ections 
 may be drawn off* from it to this spiritual life, which is not 
 subject unto death. 
 
 Ver. 25. But the word of the Lord endureth for ever; and this is the 
 word which by the Gospel is preached unto you. 
 
 The word of God is so like Himself, and carries so plainly the 
 image and impression of his power and wisdom, that where 
 they are spoken of together, it is sometimes doubtful whether 
 the expressions are to be referred to Himself, or to His word : 
 (as Heb. iv. 12; and so here:) but there is no hazard in refer- 
 ring them either way, seeing there is truth in both, and perti- 
 nency too; for they who refer them to God, affirm that they 
 are intended for the extolhng of His word, being the subject
 
 166 A COMMENTAHY UPON 
 
 in hand, and that we may know it to be like Him. But I 
 rather think here, that the Apostle speaks of the Avord ; it is 
 said to be quick or living (i^<5v) in the fore-cited text, as well as 
 in tlic passage before us ; and the phrase, abiding for ever, is 
 expressly repeated of it here, in the Prophet's words. And 
 (with respect to those learned men that apply them to God) I 
 remember not that this abiding for eve?' is used to express God's 
 eternity in Himself. Howsoever, this incorruptible seed is the 
 living and everlasting word of the living and everlasting God, 
 and is therefore such, because He, whose it is, is such. 
 
 Now, this is not to be taken in an abstract sense of the word, 
 only in its nature, but as the principle of regeneration, the seed 
 of this new life ; because the word is enlivening and living, 
 therefore they with whom it is effectual, and into whose hearts 
 it is received, are begotten again and made alive by it ; and 
 because the word is incorruptible, and endureth for ever, there- 
 fore that life begotten by it is such too, cannot perish or be cut 
 down, as the natural life ; no, this spiritual life of grace is the 
 certain beginning of that eternal life of glory, and shall issue in 
 it, and therefore hath no end. 
 
 As the word of God in itself cannot be abolished, but sur- 
 passes the permanence of heaven and earth, as our Saviour 
 teaches; and all the attempts of men against the Divine truth 
 of that word to undo it, are as vain as if they should consult to 
 pluck the sun out of the firmament ; so, likewise, in the heart 
 of a Christian, it is immortal and incorruptible. Whei-e it is 
 once received by faith, it cannot be obliterated again : all the 
 powers of darkness cannot destroy it, although they be never so 
 diligent in their attempts that way. And this is the comfort of 
 the Saints, that though the hfe, which God by His word hath 
 breathed into their souls, have many and strong enemies, such 
 as they themselves could never hold out against, yet for His 
 own glory, and His j^romise sake. He will maintain that life, 
 and bring it to its perfection : God icill perfect that ivhich 
 concernctli me, saith the Psalmist (Psal. cxxxviii. 8.) It 
 is grossly contrary to the truth of the Scriptures to imagine.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 167 
 
 that they who are thus renewed can be unborn again. This 
 new birth is but once, of one kind ; though tliey are subject to 
 frailties and weaknesses here in this spiritual life, yet not to 
 death any more, nor to such way of sinning as would extinguish 
 this hfe. This is that which the Apostle John says, He that 
 is horn of God sinneth not ; and the reason he adds, is the 
 same that is here given, the permanence and incorruptiblcness 
 of this word, The seed of God ahideth in him. (John iii. 9.) 
 
 This is the word which by the Gospel is preached unto you.'] 
 It is not sufficient to have these thoughts of the word of God 
 in a general way, and not to know what that word is ; but we 
 must be persuaded, that that word which is preached to us is 
 this very word of so excellent virtue, and of which these high 
 things are spoken ; that it is incorruptible and abideth for ever, 
 and therefore surpasses all the world, and all the excellencies 
 and glory of it. Although delivered by weak men — the apostles, 
 and by far weaker than they in the constant ministry of it, yet 
 it loseth none of its own virtue ; for that depends upon the 
 first Owner and Author of it, the ever-living GOD, who by it 
 beo-ets his chosen unto life eternal. 
 
 This, therefore, is that which we should learn thus to hear, 
 and thus to receive, esteem, and love, this holy, this living 
 word ; to despise all the glittering vanities of this perishing 
 life, all outward pomp, yea, all inward worth, all wisdom and 
 natural endowments of mind, in comparison of the heavenly 
 light of the Gospel preached unto us : rather to hazard all than 
 lose that, and banish all other things from the place that is due 
 to it ; to lodge it alone in our hearts, as our only treasure here, 
 and the certain pledge of that treasure of glory laid up for us 
 in heaven. To which blessed state may God of his infinite 
 mercy bring us ! Amen.
 
 168 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Yi'i: 1 . "Wherefore laying aside all malice and all guile, and hypocrisies, 
 and envies, and all evil speakings, 
 
 Ver. 2, As new-born babes desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye 
 may grow thereby. 
 
 The same power and goodness of God that manifests itself in 
 giving being to His creatures, appears likewise in sustaining 
 and preserving them. To give being is the first, and to support 
 it is the continued effect of that power and goodness. Thus it 
 is both in the first creation, and in the second. In the first, 
 the creatures to which He gave life, He provided with conve- 
 nient nourishment to uphold that life (Gen. i. 11) : so here, in the 
 close of the former chapter, we find the doctrine of the new birth 
 and life of a Christian, and in the beginning of this, the proper 
 food of that life. And it is the same word by Avhich we there 
 find it to be begotten, that is here tiie nourishment of it ; and 
 therefore Christians are here exhorted by the Apostle so to 
 esteem and so to use it ; and that is the main scope of the words. 
 Observe in general : The word, the principle, and the support 
 of our spiritual being, is both the incorruptible seed and the 
 incorruptible food of that new life of grace, which must there- 
 fore be an incorruptible life ; and this may convince us, that the 
 ordinary thoughts, even of us who hear this word, are far below 
 the true excellency and worth of it. The stream of custom and 
 our profession bring us hither, and we sit out our hour under 
 the sound of this w^ord ; but how few consider and prize it as 
 the great ordinance of God for the salvation of souls, the begin- 
 ner and the sustainer of the Divine life of grace within us ! 
 And certainly, until we have these thoughts of it, and seek to 
 feel it thus ourselves, although we hear it most frequently, and 
 let slip no occasion, yea, hear it with attention and some pre- 
 sent delight, yet still w'e miss the right use of it, and turn it 
 from its true end, while we take it not as that ingrafted ivord 
 ivhich is able to save our souls. (James i, 21.)
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETEIl. lOD 
 
 Thus oiiglif they who preach to speak it — to endeavour their 
 utmost to accommodate it to this end, that sinners may be con- 
 verted, befiotten aijain, and believers nourished and strenjjtliened 
 in their spiritual life — to regard no lower end, but aim steadily 
 at that mark. Their hearts and tongues ought to be set on fire 
 with hol}^ zeal for God and love to souls, kindled by the Holy 
 Ghost, that came down on the apostles in the shape of fiery 
 tongues. 
 
 And those that ear should remember this as the end of 
 their hearing, that they may receive spiritual life and strength 
 by the word. F(n' though it seems a poor despicable business, 
 that a frail sinful man like yourselves should speak a few words 
 in your hearing, yet, look upon it as the way wherein God 
 communicates happiness to those who believe, and works that 
 believing unto happiness, alters the whole frame of the soul, 
 and makes a new creation, as it begets it again to the inherit- 
 ance of glory. Consider it thus, which is its true notion ; and 
 then, what can be so precious ? Let the world disesteem it as 
 they will, know ye, that it is the power of God unto salvation. 
 The preaching of the cross is to them that perish, foolishness ; 
 but unto them that are saved, it is the power of God, says the 
 Apostle (1 Cor. i. 18). And if you would have the experience 
 of this, if you would have life and growth by it, you must look 
 above the poor worthless messenger, and call in His almiglity 
 help who is the Lord of life. As the philosophers affirm, that 
 if the heavens should stand still, there would be no generation 
 or flourishing of any thing here below, so it is the moving and 
 influence of the Spirit that makes the Church fruitful. Would 
 you but do this before you come here, present the blindness of 
 your minds and the deadness of your hearts to God, and sav, 
 " Lord, here is an opportunity for thee to shew the power of 
 " thy word. I would find life and strength in it ; but neither 
 " can I who hear, nor he that speaks, make it thus unto me; 
 ''• that is thy prerogative; say Thou the word, and it shall be 
 " done." God said let there be light and it was light. 
 
 In this exhortation to the due use of the word, the Apostle
 
 170 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 continues the resemblance of that new birth he mentioned in 
 the preceding- chapter. 
 
 As nctv-born babes.'] Be not satisfied with 3'ourselves, till 
 you find some evidence of this new, this supernatural life. 
 There be delights and comforts in this life in its lowest condi- 
 tion, that would persuade us to look after it, if we knew them ; 
 but as the most cannot be made sensible of these, consider 
 therefore the end of it. Better never to have been, than not to 
 have been partaker of this new being. Except a man be born 
 uyuin, says our Saviour, he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 God (John iii. 3.) Surely they that are not born again, shall 
 one day wish they had never been born. AVhat a poor wretched 
 thing is the life that we have here ! a very heap of follies and 
 miseries ! Now if we would share in a happier being after it, 
 in that life which ends not, it must begin here. Grace and 
 glory are one and the same life, only with this difference, that 
 the one is the beginning, and the other the perfection of it ; or 
 if we do call them two several lives, yet the one is the undoubted 
 pledge of the other. It was a strange word for a heathen to 
 say, that that day of death we fear so, aterni natalis est, is the 
 birth-day of eternity. Thus it is indeed, to those who are 
 here born again : this new-birth of grace is the sure earnest 
 and ])ledgc of that birth-day of glory. Why do we not then 
 lal)()ur to n)ake this certain by the former? Is it not a fearful 
 thing to spend our days in vanity, and then lie down in dark- 
 ness and sorrow for ever; to disregard the life of our soul, while 
 we may and should be provident for it, and then, when it is 
 going out, cry, Quo nunc ubibis 9 Whither art thou going, 
 O my soul ? 
 
 But this new life puts us out of the danger and fear of that 
 eternal death. We are passed from death to life, says St. 
 John, (1 John iii. 14,) speaking of those who are born again; 
 and being passed, there is no re-passing, no going back from 
 this life to death again. 
 
 This new birth is the same that St. John calls the first resur- 
 rection, m\(\ lie pronounces them blessed who partake of it:
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF I'ETEK. 171 
 
 Blessed are they that have part in the first resurrection ; the 
 second death shall have no power over them. (Rev. xx. C.) 
 
 The weak beginnings of grace, weak in comparison of the 
 further strength attainable even in this hfe, are sometimes 
 expressed as the infancy of it ; and so behevers ought not to 
 continue infants ; if they do, it is reprovable in them (as we see 
 Eph. iv. 14; 1 Cor.ii. 2; 1 Cor. xiv. 20; Heb. v. 12.) Though 
 the Apostle writes to new converts, and so may possibly imply 
 the tenderness of their beginnings of grace, yet I conceive that 
 infancy is here to be taken in such a sense as agrees to a Chris- 
 tian in the whole course and best estate of his spiritual life here 
 below. So, likewise, the milk here recommended is answer- 
 able to infancy, taken in this sense, and not in the former; (as it 
 is in some of those cited places, where it means the easiest and 
 first principles of religion, and so is opposed to the higher myste- 
 ries of it, as to strong meat;) but here it signifies the whole word 
 of God, and all its wholesome and saving truths, as the proper 
 nourishment of the children of God. And so the Apostle's 
 words are a standing exhortation for all Christians of all degrees. 
 And the whole estate and course of their spiritual life here 
 is called their infancy, not only as opposed to the corruption 
 and wickedness of the old man, but likewise as signifying the 
 weakness and imperfection of it, at its best in this life, compared 
 with the perfection of the life to come ; for the weakest be- 
 ginnings of grace are by no means so far below the highest 
 degree of it possible in this life, as that highest degree falls short 
 of the state of glory : so that, if one measure of grace is called 
 infancy in respect of another, much more is all grace infancy in 
 respect of glory. And surely, as for duration, the time of our 
 present life is far less compared to eternity, tlian the time of our 
 natural infancy is to the rest of our life ; so that we may be still 
 called but new or lately horn. Our best pace and strongest 
 walking in obedience here, is but as the stepping of children 
 when they begin to go by hold, in comparison of the perfect 
 obedience in glory, when we shall follow the Lamb whereso- 
 ever he (joes. All our knowledge here, is but as the ignorance
 
 172 A COMMKNTAUY UPON 
 
 of infants, and all our expressions of God and of his praises, 
 but as the first stammerings of children in comparison of the 
 knowledge we shall have of him hereafter, when ive shall know 
 an ive are Ixiwwn, and of the praises we shall then offer Him, 
 when that new song shall be taught us. A child hath in it a 
 reasonable soul, and yet, by the indisposedness of the body, 
 and abundance of moisture, it is so bound up, that its difference 
 from the beasts in partaking of a rational life is not so apparent 
 as afterwards ; and thus the spiritual life that is from above 
 infused into a Christian, though it doth act and work in some 
 degree, yet it is so clogged with the natural corruption still 
 remaining in him, that the excellency of it is much clouded 
 and obscured ; but in the life to come, it shall have nothing at 
 all incumbering and indisposing it. And this is the Apostle 
 St. Paul's doctrine, 1 Cor. xiii. 9 — 12. 
 
 And this is the wonder of Divine grace, that brings so small 
 beginnings to that height of perfection that we are not able to 
 conceive of; that a little spark of true grace, which is not only 
 indiscernible to others, but often to the Christian himself, 
 should yet be the beginning of that condition wherein they shall 
 shine brighter than the sun in the firmament. The difference 
 is great in our natural life, in some persons especially ; that they 
 who in infancy were so feeble, and wrapped up as others in swad- 
 ling clothes, yet afterwards come to excel in wisdom and in the 
 knowledge of sciences, or to be commanders of great armies, or 
 to be kings : but the distance is far greater and more admirable 
 betwixt the weakness of these new-horn babes, the small becin- 
 nings of grace, and our after perfection, that fulness of know- 
 ledge that we look for, and that crown of immortalit}' which all 
 they are born to who are born of God. 
 
 But as in the faces or actions of some chikhxii, characters 
 and presages of their after-greatness have appeared, (as a sin- 
 gular beauty in Moses' face, as they write of him, and as Cyrus 
 was made king among the shepherds' children Avith whom he 
 was brought up, &c.,) so also, certainly, in these children of 
 God, there be some characters and evidences that they arc born
 
 THE FIRST El'lSTLE OF PKTF.U. 1*^3 
 
 for Heaven by their new birth. Tliat hoHiiess and mcelaicss, 
 that patience and faidi, which shine in the actions and sufferings 
 of the saints, are characters of their Father's image, and shew 
 their liigh original, and foretel their glory to come ; such a 
 glory as doth not only surpass the world's thoughts, but the 
 thoughts of the children of God themselves. (1 John iii. 2.) 
 
 Now that the children of God may grow by the word of God, 
 the Apostle requires these two things of them : 1. The inno- 
 cency of children ; 2. The appetite of children. For this 
 expression, as I conceive, is relative not only to the desiring of 
 the milk of the ivord, ver. 2, but to the former verse, the put- 
 ting off malice. So, the Apostle Paul exhorts, (1 Cor. xiv. 20,) 
 As concerning malice, be yc children. 
 
 Wherefore laying aside.'\ This imports that we are natu- 
 rally prepossessed with these evils, and therefore we are exhorted 
 to put them off". Our hearts are by nature no other than cages 
 of those imclean birds, malice, envy, hypocrisy, &c. The 
 Apostle sometimes names some of these evils, and sometimes 
 others of them, but they are inseparable, — all one garment, and 
 all comprehended under that one word, (Eph. iv. 22,) the old 
 man, which the Apostle there exhorts Christians to put off: 
 and here it is pressed as a necessary evidence of their new birth, 
 as well as for the furtherance of their spiritual growth, that 
 these base habits be thrown away ; ragged filthy habits, unbe- 
 seeming the children of God. They are the proper marks of 
 an unrenewed mind, the very characters of the children of 
 Satan, for they constitute his image. He hath his names from 
 enmity, and envy, and slandering ; and he is that grand hypo- 
 crite and deceiver, who can transform Jiimself into an angel 
 of light (2 Cor. xi. 14). 
 
 So, on the contrary, the Spirit of God that dwells in His 
 children, is the spirit of meekness, and love, and trudi. That 
 dovelike spirit which descended on our Saviour, is from him 
 comnumicated to believers. It is the grossest impudence to 
 pretend to be Christians, and yet to entertain hatred and 
 envyings upon whatsoever occasion ; for there is nothing more
 
 174 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 frequent!}' recommended to them by our Saviour's own doctrine, 
 nothing more impressed upon their hearts by his Spirit, than 
 love. Ka>t/a may be taken generally, but I conceive it intends 
 that which we particularly call malice. 
 
 Malice and envy are but two branches growing out of the 
 same bitter root ; self-love and evil-speakings are the fruit 
 they bear. Malice is properly the procuring or wishing an- 
 other's evil, envy the repining at his good ; and both these 
 vent themselves by evil-speaking. This infernal fire within, 
 smokes and flashes out by the tongue, which, St. James says, 
 is set on fire of hell, (iii. 6,) and fires all about it; censuring 
 the actions of those they hate or envy, aggravating their 
 failings, and detracting from their virtues, taking all things 
 by the left ear : for (as Epictetus says) every thing hath two 
 handles. The art of taking things by the better side, which 
 charity always doth, would save much of those janglings and 
 heart-burnings that so abound in the world. But folly and 
 perverseness possess the hearts of the most, and therefore their 
 discourses are usually the vent of these ; For out of the abun- 
 dance of the heart, the mouth must speak (Matt. xii. 34). 
 The unsavoury breaths of men argue their inward corruption. 
 Where shall a man come, almost, in societies, but his ears 
 shall be beaten with the unpleasant noise (surely it is so to a 
 Christian mind) of one detracting and disparaging another ? 
 And yet this is extreme baseness, and the practice only of false 
 counterfeit goodness, to make up one's own reputation out of 
 the ruins of the good name of others. Real virtue neither 
 needs nor can endure this dishonest shift : it can subsist of it- 
 self, and therefore ingenuously commends and acknowledges 
 what good exists in others, and loves to hear it acknowledged; 
 and neither readily speaks nor hears evil of any, but rather, 
 where duty and conscience require not discovery, casts a veil 
 upon men's faihngs to hide them : this is the true temper of 
 the children of God. 
 
 These evils of malice, and envy, and evil speakings, and 
 such like, are not to be dissembled by us, in ourselves, and
 
 THE FIUST EPISTLE OF PETER. 175 
 
 conveyed under better appearances, but to be cast away : not 
 to be covered, but put oft"; and tlierefore that which is the 
 upper garment and cloak of all other evils, the Apostle here 
 commands us to cast that oft' too, namely, hypocrisy. 
 
 What avails it to wear this mask ? A man may indeed in 
 the sight of men act his part handsomely under it, and pass so 
 for a time ; but know we not that there is an Eye that sees 
 through it, and a Hand that, if we will not put off' this mask, 
 will pull it oft' to our shame, either here in the sight of men, 
 or, if we should escape all our life, and go fair oft' the stage 
 imder it, yet that there is a day appointed wherein all hypo- 
 crites shall be unveiled, and appear Avhat they are indeed 
 before men and angels ? It is a poor thing, to be approved 
 and applauded by men, while God condemns, to whose sen- 
 tence all men must stand or fall. Oh ! seek to be approved 
 and justified by Him, and then, ivho shall condemn? (Rom. 
 viii. 34.) It is no matter who do. How easily may we bear 
 the mistakes and dislikes of all the Avorld, if He declare himself 
 well pleased with us ! It is a small thing for me to be judged 
 of man, or man's day: he that judyeth me is the Lord, saith 
 the Apostle (1 Cor. iv. 3). 
 
 But these evils are here particularly to be put off", as con- 
 trary to the right and profitable receiving of the word of God ; 
 for this part of the exhortation {Laying aside) looks to that 
 Avhich follows {Desire, &c.), and is specially so to be con- 
 sidered. 
 
 There is this double task in relimon : when a man enters 
 upon it, he is not only to be taught true wisdom, but he is 
 withal, yea, first of all, to be untaught the errors and wicked- 
 ness that are deep rooted in his mind, which he hath not only 
 learned by the corrupt conversation of the world, but brought 
 the seeds of them into the world with him. They do Indeed 
 improve and grow by the favour of that example that is round 
 about a man, but they are originally in our nature as it is 
 now ; they are connatural to us, besides being strengthened 
 by continual custom, which is another nature. There is no
 
 176 A COMArENTARY UPON 
 
 one conies to the school of Cln-ist suiting the philosopher's 
 Mord, vt tabula rasa, as blank paper, to receive his doctrine; 
 but, on the contrary', all scribbled and blurred with such base 
 liabits as these, malice, hypocrisy, envy, &c. 
 
 Therefore, the first work is, to raze out these, to cleanse and 
 purify the heart from these blots, these foul characters, that it 
 may receive the impression of the image of God. And because 
 it is the word of God that both begins and advances this work, 
 and perfects the lineaments of that Divine image on the soul, 
 therefore, to the receiving of this word aright, and to this 
 proper effect by means of it, the conforming of the soul to 
 Jesus Christ, which is the true growth of the spiritual life, 
 this is pre-required, that the hearts of those who hear it be 
 purged of these and such like impurities. 
 
 These dispositions are so opposite to the profitable receiving 
 of the word of God, that while they possess and rule the soul, 
 it cannot at all embrace these Divine truths ; while it is filled 
 with such guests, there is no room to entertain the word. 
 
 They cannot dwell together, by reason of their contrary 
 nature : the word will not mix with these. The saving mixture 
 of the word of God in the soul is what the Apostle speaks of, 
 and he assigns the want of it as the cause of unprofitable hear- 
 ing of the word, (Heb. iv. 2,) not miximj of it ivitk faith. 
 For by that the word is concocted into the nourishment of 
 the life of grace, united to the soul, and mixed with it, by 
 being mixed with faith, as the Apostle's expression imports : 
 that is the proper mixture it requires. But with the qualities 
 here mentioned it will not mix ; there is a natural antipathy 
 betwixt them, as stronir as in those thina's in nature, that can- 
 not be brought by any means to agree and mingle together. 
 
 Can there be any thing more contrary than the good word 
 (f Cod, as the Apostle calls it, arid those evil speakings ? 
 than the word that is of such excellent sweetness, and the bitter 
 words of a malignant tongue.? than the word of life, and words 
 full of deadly jjoison? For so slanilers and defamings of our 
 brethren are termed. And is not all malice and envy most
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 177 
 
 opposite to the word, that is the message of peace and love 9 
 How can the gall of malice and this milk of the word agree ? 
 Hypocrisy and guile stand in direct opposition to the name of 
 this word, which is called the word of truth ; and here the 
 very words shew this contrariety, sincere milk and a double, 
 unsiiicere mind. 
 
 These two are necessary conditions of good nourishment : 
 \st. That the food be good and wholesome : 9.dlij, That the 
 inward constitution of them who use it be so too. And if 
 this fail, the other profits not. This sincere milk is the only 
 proper nourishment of spiritual life, and there is no defect or 
 undue quality in it ; but the greatest part of hearers are in- 
 wardly unwholesome, diseased with the evils here mentioned, 
 and others of the like nature ; and therefore, either have no 
 kind of appetite to the word at all, but rather feed upon such 
 trash as suits with their distemper, (as some kind of diseases 
 incline those that have them to eat coals or lime, Sj-c.) or, if 
 they be anyways desirous to hear the word, and seem to feed 
 on it, yet the noxious humours that abound in them make it 
 altogether unprofitable, and they are not nourished by it. 
 This evil of malice and envying, so ordinary among men, (and, 
 which is most strange, amongst Christians,) like an overflow- 
 ing of the gall, possesses their whole minds ; so that they not 
 only fail of being nourished by the word they hear, but are 
 made the worse by it ; their disease is fed by it, as an unwhole- 
 some stomach turns the best meat it receives into that humour 
 that abounds in it. Do not they thus, who observe what the 
 word says, that they may be the better enabled to discover the 
 failings of others, and speak maliciously and uncharitably of 
 them, and vent themselves, as is too common ? This tvord met 
 well with such a one's fault, and this with another's : — Is not 
 this to feed these diseases of malice, envy, and evil-speakings, 
 with this pure milk, and make them grow, instead of growing 
 by it ourselves in grace and holiness ? 
 
 Thus, likewise, the hypocrite turns all that he hears of this 
 word, not to the inward renovation of his mind, and redress- 
 
 Vol. I. N
 
 178 A COMMENTAEY UPON 
 
 ing what is amiss there, but only to the composing of his out- 
 ward carriage, and to enable himself to act his part better : to 
 be cunninger in his own faculty? a more refined and expert 
 hypocrite; not to grow more a Christian indeed, but more 
 such in appearance only, and in the opinion of others. 
 
 Therefore it is a very needful advertisement, seeing these 
 evils are so natural to men, and so contrary to the nature of 
 the word of God, that they be purged out, to the end it may 
 be profitably received. A very like exhortation to this hath 
 the Apostle St. James, and some of the same words, but in 
 another metaphor : Jam. i. 21, Wherefore lay apart allfilthi- 
 ness, and siqyerfluify of naughtiness, and receive with meek- 
 ness the ingrafted ivord. He compares the word to a plant of 
 excellent virtue, the very tree of life, the word that is able to 
 save your souls ; but the only soil wherein it will grow, is a 
 heart full of meekness, a heart that is purged of those luxuriant 
 weeds that grow so rank in it by nature ; they must be plucked 
 up and thrown out to make place for this word. 
 
 And there is such a necessity for this, that the most approved 
 teachers of wisdom, in a human way, have required of their 
 scholars, that to the end their minds might be capable of it, 
 they should be purified from vice and wickedness. For this 
 reason, the philosopher judges young men unfit hearers of 
 moral philosophy, because of the abounding and untamedness 
 of their passions, granting that, if those were composed and 
 ordered, they might be admitted. And it was Socrates'" cus- 
 tom, when any one asked him a question, seeking to be in- 
 formed by him, before he would answer them, he asked them 
 concerning their own qualities and course of life. 
 
 Now, if men require a calm and purified disposition of mind 
 to make it capable of their doctrine, how much more is it suit- 
 able and necessary for learning the doctrine of God, and those 
 deep mysteries that His word opens up ! It is well expressed 
 in that Apocryphal book of Wisdom, that Froward thoughts 
 SPjju rale, from God, and wisdom enters not into a malicious 
 soul : no, indeed, that is a very unfit dwelling for it ; and even
 
 THK FIRST EPISTLF. OF PETER. 179 
 
 a heathen (Seneca) could say, IIlc mind Ihul is impure, is not 
 capable of God and divi?ie thimjs. Therefore we see the 
 strain of that book of Proverbs that speaks so much of this 
 ■wisdom ; it requires, in the first chapter, that they who would 
 hear it, do retire themselves from all ungodly customs and 
 practices. And, indeed, how can the soul apprehend spiritual 
 things, that is not in some measure refined from the love of 
 sin, which abuses and bemires the minds of men, and makes 
 them unable to arise to heavenly thoughts ? Blessed are the 
 pure in heart, for they shall see God, says our Saviour (Matt. 
 v. 8) : not only shall they see him perfectly hereafter, but so 
 far as they can receive him, He will impart and make Himself 
 known unto them here. If any man love me, he tvill keep 
 my words, and my Father will love him, and ive will come 
 unto him, and make our abode ivith him. (John xiv. 23.) 
 What makes the word obscure is, the filthy mists within ; 
 whereas, on the contrary. He will in just judgment hide Him- 
 self, and the saving truth of His word, from those that enter- 
 tain and delight in sin : the very sins wherein they delight, 
 shall obscure and darken the light of the Gospel to them, so 
 that though it shine clear as the sun at noon-day, they shall be 
 as those that live in a dungeon, they shall not discern it. 
 
 And as they receive no benefit by the word, who have the 
 evils here mentioned reigning and in full strength within them, 
 so they that are indeed born again, the more they retain of 
 these, the less shall they find the influence and profit of the 
 word ; for this exhortation concerns them. They may possibly 
 some of them have a great remainder of these corruptions 
 unmortified ; therefore are they exhorted to lay aside entirely 
 those evils, all malice, all hypocrisy, he, else, though they 
 hear the word often, yet they will be in a spiritual atrophy ; 
 they will eat much, but grow nothing by it ; they will find no 
 increase of grace and spiritual strength. 
 
 Would we know the main cause of our fruitless hearinix of 
 the word, here it is : men bring not meek and guileless spirits 
 to it, not minds emptied and purified to receive it, but stuffed 
 
 N 2
 
 180 A COMMENTARY UrON 
 
 ■with malice, and hypocrisy, and pride, and other such evils ; 
 and where should the word enter, when all is so taken up ? 
 And if it did enter, how should it prosper amongst so many 
 enemies, or at all abide amongst them ? Either they will turn 
 it out again, or choke and kill the power of it. We think re- 
 ligion, and our own lusts, and secret heart-idols, should agree 
 together, because we would have it so; but this is not possible. 
 Therefore, labour to entertain the word of truth in the love of 
 it, and lodge the mystery of faith in a pure conscience, as the 
 Apostle St. Paul speaks (1 Tim. iii. 9). Join those together 
 with David, (Psal. cxix. 113,) / Jiate vain thoiujhts, hxit thy 
 law do I love. And as here our Apostle, Lay aside all malice, 
 and hypocrisy, and envy, and evil speahinys, and so receive 
 the word, or else look for no benefit by it here, nor for salvation 
 by it hereafter ; but be prevailed upon to cast out all impurity, 
 and give your whole heart to it : so desire it, that you may 
 grow, and then, as you desire, you shall yrow by it. 
 
 Every real believer hath received a life from Heaven, far 
 more excelling our natural life, than that excels the life of the 
 beasts. And this life hath its own peculiar desires and delights, 
 which are the proper actings, and the certain characters and 
 evidence of it ; amongst others, this is one, and a main one, 
 answerable to the like desire in natural life, namely, a desire of 
 food ; and because it is here still imperfect, therefore the na- 
 tural end of this, is, not only nourishment, but growth, as It is 
 here expressed. 
 
 The sincere milk of the n-ord.'\ The life of grace is the 
 proper life of a reasonable soul, and without it, the soul is dead, 
 as the body is without the soul : so that this may be truly ren- 
 dered, reasonable milk, as some read it ; but certainly, that 
 reasonable milk is the word of God, Tlie milk of the icord. 
 
 It was before called the immortal seed, and here it is the 
 milk of those that are born again, and thus it is nourishment 
 very agreeable to that spiritual life, according to their saying, 
 lisdem alimur ex (piibus constainus, wc are nourished by that 
 of which we consist. As the milk that infants draw from the
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 181 
 
 breast, is the most connatural food to them, being of that same 
 substance that nourished them in the womb ; so, when they 
 are brought fortli, that food follows them as it were for their 
 supply, in the way that is provided in nature for it : by certain 
 veins it ascends into the breasts, and is there fitted for them, 
 and they arc by nature directed to find it there. Thus, as a 
 Christian begins to live by the power of the word, so he is by 
 the nature of that spiritual life directed to that same word as 
 its nourishment. To follow the resemblance further in the 
 qualities of milk, after the monkish Avay, that runs itself oat of 
 breath in allegory, I conceive is neither solid nor profitable, 
 and to speak freely, the curious searching of the similitude in 
 other qualities of milk, seems to wrong the quality here given 
 it by the Apostle, in which it is so well resembled by milk, 
 namely, the simple pureness and sincerity of the Avord ; besides 
 that the pressing of comparisons of this kind too far, proves 
 often so constrained ere they have done with it, that by too 
 much drawing, they bring forth blood instead of milk. 
 
 Pure and unmixed, as milk drawn immediately from the 
 breast ; the pure word of God without the mixture not only of 
 error, but of all other composition of vain unprofitable subtil- 
 ties, or affected human eloquence, such as become not the 
 majesty and gravity of God's word. If any man speak, says 
 our Apostle, (ch. iv. v. 11,) let him speak us the oracles of 
 God. Light conceits and flowers of rhetoric wrong the word 
 more than they can please the hearers ; the weeds among the 
 corn make it look gay, but it were all the better they were not 
 amongst it. Nor can those mixtures be pleasing to any but 
 carnal minds. They who are indeed the children of God, as 
 infants who like their breast-milk best pure, do love the word 
 best so, and wheresoever they find it so, they relish it well ; 
 whereas natural men cannot love spiritual things for themselves, 
 desire not the word for its own sweetness, but would have it 
 sauced with such conceits as possibly spoil the simplicity of it ; 
 or at the best, love to hear it for the wit and learning which, 
 without any wrongful mixture of it, they find in one person''s
 
 182 A COMMEKTAUY UPON 
 
 delivering it more than another's. But the natural and genuine 
 appetite of the children of God is to the word for itself, and 
 only as milk, sincere milk ; and where they find it so, from 
 whomsoever, or in what way soever delivered unto them, they 
 feed upon it with delight. Before conversion, wit or eloquence 
 may draw a man to the word, and possibly prove a happy bait 
 to catch him, (as St, Augustine reports of his hearing St. 
 Ambrose,) but when once he is born again, then it is the milk 
 itself that he desires for itself. 
 
 Desire the sincere mtV/c] Not only hear it because it is your 
 custom, but desire it because it is your food. And it is, 1. A 
 natural desire as the infant's desire of milk ; not upon any ex- 
 ternal respect or inducement, but from an inward principle and 
 bent of nature. And because natural, therefore, 2. Earnest ; not 
 a cold indifferent willing, that cares not whether it obtain or not, 
 but a vehement desire, as the word signifies, and as the resem- 
 blance clearly bears ; as a child that will not be stilled till it have 
 thebreast; offer it whatyou will, silver, gold, or jewels, it regards 
 them not, these answer not its desire, and that must be answered. 
 Thus David, (Psal. cxix. 20,) My soul hreaketh for the long- 
 ing it hath to thy judgments ; as a child like to break its heart 
 with crying for want of the breast. And again, because natu- 
 ral, it is, 3. Constant. The infant is not cloyed nor wearied 
 with daily feeding on the breast, but desires it every day, as if 
 it had never had it before : so the child of God hath an un- 
 changeable appetite for the word ; it is daily new to him ; he 
 finds still fresh delight in it. Thus David, as before cited. My 
 soul hreaketh for the longing it hath for thy judgments at all 
 times. And then, Psal. i., this law was his meditation day 
 and night. Whereas, a natural man is easily surfeited of it, 
 and the very connnonness and cheapness of it makes it con- 
 temptible to him. And this is our case ; that Avherein wc 
 should \\onder at God's singular goodness to us, and therefore 
 prize his word the more, that very thing makes us despise it : 
 while others, our brethren, have bought this milk with their 
 own blood, we have it upon the easiest terms that can be
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 183 
 
 wished, only for the desiring, without the hazard of bleeding 
 for it, and scarcely need we be at the pains of sweating for it. 
 
 That ye may grow thereby. '] This is not only the end for 
 which God hath provided His children with the word, and 
 moves them to desire it, but that which they are to intend in 
 their desire and use of it ; and, answerable to God's purpose, 
 they are therefore to desire it, because it is proper for this end, 
 and that by it they may attain this end, to grow thereby. And 
 herein, indeed, these children differ from infants in the natural 
 life, who are directed to their food beside their knowledge and 
 without intention of its end ; but this rational milk is to be 
 desired by the children of God in a rational way, knowing and 
 intending its end, having the use of natural reason renewed 
 and sanctified by supernatural grace. 
 
 Now, the end of this desire is, growth. Desire the word, 
 not that you may only hear it ; that is to fall very far short of 
 its true end ; yea, it is to take the beginning of the work for 
 the end of it. The ear is indeed the mouth of the mind, by 
 which it receives the word, (as Elihu compares it. Job xxxiv. 
 2,) but meat that goes no further than the mouth, you know, 
 cannot nourish. Neither ought this desire of the word to be, 
 only to satisfy a custom ; it were an exceeding folly to make 
 so superficial a thing the end of so serious a work. Again, to 
 hear it only to stop the mouth of conscience, that it may not 
 clamour more for the gross impiety of contemning it, this is to 
 hear it, not out of desire, but out of fear. To desire it only 
 for some present pleasure and delight that a man may find in 
 it, is not the due use and end of it ; that there is delight in it, 
 may help to commend it to those that find it so, and so be a 
 mean to advance the end ; but the end it is not. To seek no 
 more than a present delight, that evanisheth with the sound of 
 the words that die in the air, is not to desire the word as meat, 
 but as music, as God tells the prophet Ezekiel of his people, 
 (Ezek. xxxiii. 32,) And lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely 
 song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play ivell 
 upon an instrument ; for they hear thy words, and they do
 
 184 A COMMENTARY UPON. 
 
 them not. To desire the word for the increase of knowledge, 
 although this is necessar}? and commendable, and, being rightly 
 (jualified, is a part of spiritual accretion, yet, take it as going 
 no further, it is not the true end of the word. Nor is the 
 venting of that knowledge in speech and frequent discourse of 
 the word and the divine truths that are in it ; which, where it 
 is governed with Christian prudence, is not to be despised, but 
 con)mended ; yet, certainly, the highest knowledge, and the 
 most frequent and skilful speaking of the word, severed from 
 the growth here mentioned, misses the true end of the word. 
 If any one's head or tongue should grow apace, and all the rest 
 stand at a stay, it would certainly make him a monster; and 
 they are no other, who are knowing and discoursing Christians, 
 and grow daily in that respect, but not at all in holiness of 
 heart and life, which is the proper growth of the children of 
 God. Apposite to their case is Epictetus'' comparison of the 
 sheep ; they return not what they eat in grass, but in wool. 
 David, in the cxix. Psalm, which is wholly spent upon this 
 subject, the excellency and use of the word of God, expresseth, 
 ver. 15, 16, 24, his delight in it, his earnest desire to be fur- 
 ther taught, and to know more of it ; his readiness to speak of 
 it, ver. 13, 27 ; but withal, you know, he joins his desire and 
 care to keep it, to hide it in his heart, &c., ver. 5, 11 ; to 
 make it the man of his counsel, to let it be as the whole assem- 
 bl of his privy councillors, and to be ruled and guided by it ; 
 and with him, to use it so, is indeed to grow by it. 
 
 If we know what this spiritual life is, and wherein the nature 
 of it consists, we may easily know what is the growth of it. 
 When holiness increases, when the sanctifying graces of the 
 Spirit grow stronger in the soul, and consequently act more 
 strongly in the life of a Christian, then he grows spiritually. 
 
 And as the word is the mean of begetting this spiritual life, 
 so likewise of its increase. 
 
 1. This will appear, if we consider the nature of the word in 
 general, tliat it is spiritual and Divine, treats of the highest 
 things, and tiierefore hath in it a fitness to elevate men's minds
 
 THE FIKST EPISTLE OF PETER. 185 
 
 from the earth, and to assimilate to itself such as are often con- 
 versant with it ; as all kind of doctrine readily doth to those 
 who are much in it, and apply their minds to study it. Doubt- 
 less, such kind of things as are frequent with men, have an 
 influence into the disposition of their souls. The gospel is 
 called U(j}it, and the children of God are likewise called liyht, 
 as being transformed into its nature, and thus they become still 
 the more, by more hearing of it, and so they grow. 
 
 2. If we look more particularly unto the strain and tenor of 
 the word, it will appear most fit for increasing the graces of 
 the Spirit in a Christian ; for there be in it particular truths 
 relative to them, that are apt to excite them, and set tliem on 
 work, and so to make them grow, as all habits do, by acting. 
 It doth (as the apostle's word may be translated) stir up the 
 sparks, and blow them into a greater flame, make them burn 
 clearer and hotter. This it doth both by particular exhorta- 
 tion to the study and exercise of those graces, sometimes 
 pressing one, and sometimes another, and by right represent- 
 ing to them their objects. The word feeds faith, by setting 
 before it the free grace of God, His rich promises, and His 
 power and truth to perform them all ; shews it the strength of 
 the new covenant, not depending upon itself, but holding in 
 Christ, in whom all the promises of God are yea and amen ; 
 and drawing faith still to rest more entirely upon his righteous- 
 ness. It feeds repentance, by making the vileness and defor- 
 mity of sin daily more clear and visible. Still as more of the 
 Avord hath admission into the soul, the more it hates sin, sin 
 being the more discovered and the better known in its own 
 native colour: as the more light there is in a house, the more 
 any thing in it that is uncleanly or deformed is seen and dis- 
 liked. Likewise it increaseth love to God, by opening up still 
 more and more of his infinite excellency and loveliness. As it 
 borrows the resemblance of the vilest things in nature, to ex- 
 press the foulness and hatefulness of sin, so all the beauties 
 and dignities that are in all the creatures are called together 
 in the word, to give us some small scantling of that Uncreated
 
 186 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Beauty that alone deserves to be loved. Thus mlglit its fitness 
 be instanced in respect to all other graces. 
 
 But above all other considerations, this is observable in the 
 word as the increaser of grace, that it holds forth Jesus Christ 
 to our view to look upon, not only as the perfect pattern, but 
 as the full fountain of all grace, from whose fulness we all 
 receive. The contemplating of Him, as the perfect image of 
 God, and then drawing from him as having in himself a trea- 
 sure for us, these give the soul more of that image in which 
 consists truly spiritual growth. This the Apostle expresseth 
 excellently, (2 Cor. iii. vlf.,) speaking of the ministry of the 
 Gospel revealing Christ, that beholding in him (as it is, ch. iv. 
 ver. G, in his face) the glory of the Lord, we are changed 
 into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of 
 the Lord : not only that we may take the copy of his graces, 
 but have a share of them. 
 
 There may be many things that might be said of this spiri- 
 tual growth, but I will add only a hw. 
 
 First, on the one hand, in the judging of this growth, some 
 persons conclude too rigidly against themselves, that they grow 
 not by the word, because their growth is not so sensible to 
 them as they desire. But, 1. It is well known, that in all 
 things that grow, this principle is not discerned in motu, sed in 
 termino, not in the growing, but when they are grown. 2. Be- 
 sides, other things are to be considered in this : although other 
 graces seem not to advance, yet if thou growest more self- 
 denying and humble in the sense of thy slowness, all is not 
 lost; although the branches shoot not up so fast as thou 
 wishest, yet, if the root grow deeper, and fasten more, it is an 
 useful growth. He that is still learning to be more in Jesus 
 Christ, and less in himself, to have all his dependence and com- 
 fort in Him, is doubtless a growing believer. 
 
 On the other side, a far greater number conclude wrong in 
 their own favour, imagining that they do grow, if they gain 
 ground in c(jme of those things Me mentioned above; namely, 
 more knowledge and more faculty of discoursing, if they find
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 187 
 
 often some present stirrings of joy or sorrow in hearing of the 
 word, if they reform their Hfe, grow more civil and blameless, 
 <^x'. ; yet all these, and many such things, may be in a natural 
 man, who notwithstanding grows not, for that is impossible ; 
 he is not, in that state, a subject capable of this growth, for 
 he is dead, he hath none of the new life to which this growth 
 relates. Herod heard cjladly, and obeyed many things 
 (Mark vi. 20). 
 
 Consider, then, what true delight we might have in this. 
 You find a pleasure when you see your children grow, when 
 they begin to stand and walk, and so forth ; you love well to 
 perceive your estate or your honour grow : but for the soul to 
 be growing liker God, and nearer Heaven, if we know it, is a 
 pleasure far beyond them all: — to find pride, earthliness, and 
 vanity abating, and faith, love, and spiritual-mindedness in- 
 creasing ; especially if we reflect that this growth is not as our 
 natural life, which is often cut off before it has attained full 
 age, as we call it, and, if it attain that, falls again to move 
 downwards, and decays, as the sun, being at its meridian, 
 begins to decline again : but this life shall grow on in whomso- 
 ever it is, and come certainly to its fulness ; after which, there 
 is no more need of this word, either for growth or nourish- 
 ment, no death, no decay, no old age, but perpetual youth, 
 and a perpetual spring; ver <sternum, fulness of joy in the 
 presence of God, and everlasting pleasures at His right 
 hand. 
 
 Ver. 3. If so be ye have tasted that the Lord is gracious. 
 
 Our natural desire of food arises principally from its necessity 
 for that end which nature seeks, viz., the growth, or at least 
 the nourishment of our bodies. But there is besides, a present 
 sweetness and pleasantness in the use of it, that serves to 
 sharpen our desire, and is placed in our nature for that pur- 
 pose. Thus the children of God, in their spiritual life, are 
 naturally carried to desire the means of their nourishment and 
 of their growth, being always here in a growing state ; but
 
 188 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 withal, there is a spiritual delight and sweetness in the word, 
 ill that which it reveals concerning God, and this adds to their 
 desire, stirs up their appetite towards it. The former idea is 
 expressed in the foregoing verse, the latter in this. Nature 
 disposes the infant to the breast ; but when it hath once tasted 
 of it, that is a new superadded attractive, and makes it desire 
 after it the more earnestly. So here. 
 
 The word is fully recommended to us by these two, useful- 
 ness and pleasantness: like milk, (as it is compared here,) 
 which is a nourishing food, and withal sweet and delightful to 
 the taste : hij it we grow, and in it Ave taste the graciousness of 
 God. David, in that psalm which he dedicates wholly to this 
 subject, gives both these as the reason of his appetite. His 
 love to it he expresses pathetically, (cxix. 97,) O how love I 
 thy law! It follows, that by it he was made iviser than his 
 enemies, — than his teachers, — and than the ancients ; taught 
 to refrain from every evil ivay, {ver. 102,) taught by the 
 Author of that word, the Lord himself, to grow wiser and 
 M'arier, and holier in the divine ways; and then {ver. 103) he 
 adds this other reason, How sweet are thy words unto my 
 taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my month. 
 
 We shall speak, I. of the goodness or graciousness of the 
 Lord; XL of this taste; and III. of the inference from both. 
 
 I. The goodness of God: The Lord is gracious ; — or, of a 
 bountiful, kind disposition. The Hebrew word in Psal. xxxiv. 
 8, whence this is taken, signifies good. The Septuagint ren- 
 der it by the same word as is used here by our Apostle. Both 
 the words signify a benignity and kindness of nature. It is 
 given as one of love's attributes, (1 Cor. xiii. 4,) that it is ki7id, 
 X§rj(T£:/e7aj, ever compassionate, and helpful as it can be in straits 
 and distresses, still ready to forget and pass by evil, and to do 
 good. In the largest and most comprehensive sense must we 
 take the expression here, and yet still we shall speak and think 
 infinitely below what His goodness is. He is naturally good, 
 yea, goodness is His nature ; He is goodness and love itself 
 He that loveth not, knoweth not God, fur God is love,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 189 
 
 (1 John iv. 8.) Ho is primitively good; all goodness is de- 
 rived from Him, and all that is in the creature comes forth 
 from no other than that ocean; and this Graciousness is still 
 larger than them all. 
 
 There is a common bounty of God, wherein he doth good to 
 all, and so the whole earth is full of his goodness (Psal. 
 xxxiii. 5.) But the goodness that the Gospel is full of, — the 
 particular stream that runs in that channel, is his peculiar gra- 
 ciousness and love to his own children, that by which they are 
 first enlivened, and then refreshed and sustained in their spiritual 
 being. It is this that is here spoken of. He is gracious to 
 them in freely forgiving their sins, in giving no less than Him- 
 self inito them ; He frees them from all evils, and fills them 
 with all good. He satisfies thy month with good things, 
 (Psal. ciii. 3 — 5,) and so it follows with good reason, (ver. 8,) 
 that he is merciful and gracious ; and His graciousness is 
 there further expressed in his gentleness and sloivness to anger, 
 His bearing with the frailties of His own, and pitying them as 
 a father pitieth his children, ver. 13. 
 
 No friend is so kind and friendly (as this word signifies,) and 
 none so powerful. He is a present help in trouble, ready to be 
 found : whereas others may be far off, He is always at hand, 
 and his presence is always comfortable. 
 
 They that know God, still find Him a real, useful good. 
 Some things and some persons are useful at one time, and others 
 at another, but God at all times. A well-furnished table may 
 please a man while he hath health and appetite, but offer it to 
 him in the height of a fever, how unpleasant would it be then ! 
 Though never so richly decked, it is then not only useless, but 
 hateful to him : but the kindness and love of God is then as 
 seasonable and refreshing to him, as in health, and possibly 
 more ; he can find sweetness in that even on his sick bed. The 
 choler abounding in the mouth, in a fever, doth not disrelish 
 this sweetness; it transcends and goes above it. Thus all 
 earthly enjoyments have but some time (as meats) when they 
 are in season, but the graciousness of God is always sweet ; the
 
 190 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 taste of tliat is never out of season. See how old age spoils 
 the relish of outward delights, in the example of Barzillai, 
 (2 Sam. xix. 35,) but it makes not this distasteful. Therefore 
 the Psalmist prays, that when other comforts forsake him and 
 wear out, when they ebb from him and leave him on the sand, 
 this may not; that still he may feed on the goodness of God. 
 (Psal. Ixxi. 9,) Cast me not off in old age, forsake me not 
 ivhen my strength faileth. It is the continual influence of His 
 graciousness that makes them still grow like cedars in Lebanon, 
 (Psal. xcii. 14, 15,) that makes them bring forth fruit in old 
 age, and to be still fat and flourishing ; to shew that the 
 Lord is upright, as it is there added, that he is (as the word 
 •imports) still like Himself, and his goodness ever the same. 
 
 Full chests, or large possessions, may seem sweet to a man, 
 till death present itself; but then (as the Prophet speaks of 
 throvjing away their idols of silver and gold to the bats and 
 moles, in the day of calamity, (Isa. ii. 20,) then, he is forced 
 to throw away all he possesses, with disdain of it and of his 
 former folly in doating on it ; then, the kindness of friends, and 
 wife, and children, can do nothing but increase his grief and 
 their own ; but then is the love of God the good indeed and 
 abiding sweetness, and it best relisheth when all other things 
 are most unsavoury and uncomfortable. 
 
 God is gracious, but it is God in Christ ; otherwise we can- 
 not find Him so : therefore this is here spoken in particular of 
 Jesus Christ, (as it appears by that which followeth,) through 
 whom all the peculiar kindness and love of God is conveyed to 
 the soul, for it can come no other way ; and the word here 
 mentioned is the Gospel, (See ch. i. ver. ult.) whereof Christ is 
 the subject. Though God is mercy and goodness in Himself, 
 yet we cannot find or apprehend Him so to us, but as we are 
 looking through that medium, the jVIediator. That main point 
 of the goodness of God in the Gospel, which is so sweet to a 
 humbled sinner, the forgiveness of sins, we know we cannot 
 taste of but in Christ, In whom we have redemption. (Eph. 
 i, 7.) And all the favour that shines on us, all the grace we
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 191 
 
 receive, is of his fulness ; all our acceptance with God, our 
 being taken into grace and kindness again, is in liim. He made 
 us accepted in the beloved, (ver. G.) His grace appears in 
 both, as it is there expressed, but it is all in Christ. Let us 
 therefore never leave him out in our desires of tasting the gra- 
 ciousness and love of God : for otherwise we shall but dis- 
 honour him, and disappoint ourselves. 
 
 The free grace of God was given to be tasted, in the pro- 
 mises, before the coming of Christ in the flesh ; but being 
 accomplished in his coming, then was the sweetness of grace 
 made more sensible ; then was it more fully broached, and let 
 out to the elect world, when he was pierced on the cross, and 
 his blood poured out for our redemption. Through those holes 
 of his ivounds may we draw, and taste that the Lord is gra- 
 cious, says St. Augustine. 
 
 II. As to this taste: Ye have tasted.'] There is a tasting 
 exercised by temporary believers, spoken of, Heb. vi. 4. Their 
 highest sense of spiritual things, (and it will be in some far 
 higher than we easily think,) yet is but a taste, and is called so 
 in comparison of the truer, fuller sense that true believers have 
 of the grace and goodness of God, which, compared with a 
 ten)porary taste, is more than tasting. The former is merely 
 tasting ; rather an imaginary taste than real ; but this is a true 
 feeding on the graciousness of God, yet is it called but a taste 
 in respect of the fulness to come. Though it is more than a 
 taste, as distinguishable from the hypocrite's sense, yet it is no 
 more than a taste, compared with the great marriage feast we 
 look for. 
 
 Jesus Christ being all in all unto the soul, faith apprehend- 
 ing him is all the spiritual sense. Faith is the eye that beholds 
 his matchless beauty, and so kindles love in the soul, and can 
 speak of him as having seen him, and taken particular notice of 
 him, (Cant. v. 9.) It is the ear that discerns his voice, (Cant, 
 ii. 8.) It is faith that smells his name poured forth as an oint- 
 ment ; faith that touches him, and draws virtue from him ; and 
 faith that tastes him, (Cant. ii. 3 ;) and so here, If ye have tasted.
 
 192 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 In order to tliis, there must be, 1. A firm believmg of the 
 truth of tlie promises, wherein the free grace of God is expressed 
 and exhibited to us. 2. A particular apphcation or attraction 
 of that grace to ourselves, which is the drawing of those breasts 
 of consolation .1 (Isa. Ixvi. 11,) namely, the promises contained 
 in the Old and New Testaments. 3. A sense of the sweetness 
 of that grace, being applied or drawn into the soul, and that 
 constitutes properly this taste. No unrenewed man hath any 
 of these in truth, not the highest kind of temporary believer ; 
 he cannot have so much as a real lively assent to the general 
 truth of the promises ; for had he that, the rest would follow. 
 But as he cannot have the least of these in truth, he may have 
 the counterfeit of them all ; not only of assent but of application ; 
 yea, and a false spiritual joy arising from it ; and all these so 
 drawn to the life, that they may resemble much of the reality : 
 to give clear characters of difference, is not so easy as most 
 persons imagine ; but doubtless, the true living faith of a 
 Christian hath in itself such a particular stamp, as brings with 
 it its own evidence, when the soul is clear and the light of God's 
 face shines upon it. Indeed, in the dark we cannot read, nor 
 distinguish one mark from another ; but when a Christian hath 
 light to look upon the work of God in his own soul, although 
 he cannot make another sensible of that by which he knows it, 
 yet he himself is ascertained, and can say confidently in himself, 
 " This I know, that this faith and taste of God I have is true; 
 " the seal of the Spirit of God is upon it;" and this is tiie 
 reading of that new name in the white stone, which no man 
 knows but he that hath it, (Revel, ii. 17.) There is, in a true 
 believer, such a constant love to God for Himself, and such a 
 continual desire after Him simply for His own excellency and 
 goodness, as no other can have. On the other side, would an 
 hypocrite deal truly and impartially by himself, he would 
 readily find out something that would discover him, more or 
 less, to himself. lUit the truth is, men are willing to deceive 
 themselves, and thence arises the diflieulty. 
 
 One man cannot make another sensible of the sweetness of
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETER. 193 
 
 Divine grace : he may speak to him of it vciy excellently, but 
 all he says in that kind, is an unknown language to a natural 
 man ; he hearetli many good words, but he cannot tell what 
 they mean. TJie natural man tastes not the things of God, 
 for theij are spiritually discerned. (1 Cor. ii. 14-.) 
 
 A spiritual man himself doth not fully conceive this sweet- 
 ness that he tastes of ; it is an infinite goodness, and he hath 
 but a taste of it. The peace of God, which is a main fruit of 
 this His goodness, passeth all under standhuj, says the Apostle 
 (Phil. iv. 7) : not only all natural understanding, (as some modify 
 it,) but all understanding, even the supernatural understanding 
 of those who enjoy it. And as the godly man cannot conceive 
 it all, so as to that which he conceives, he cannot express it 
 all, and that which he doth express, the carnal mind cannot 
 conceive of by his expression. 
 
 But he that liath indeed tasted of this goodness, O how taste- 
 less are those things to him that the v/orld call sweet ! As when 
 you have tasted somewhat that is very sweet, it disrelishes other 
 things after it. Therefore can a Christian so easily either want, 
 or use with disregard, the dehghts of this earth. His heart is 
 not upon them : for the delight that he finds in God, carrieth 
 it unspeakably away from all the rest, and makes them in com- 
 parison seem sapless to his taste. 
 
 Solomon tasted of all the delicacies, the choicest dishes that 
 are in such esteem amongst men, and not only tasted, but ate 
 largely of them ; and yet, see how he goes over them, to let us 
 know what they are, and passes from one dish to another. This 
 also is vanity, and of the next, This also is vanity, and so 
 through all, and of all in general, All is vanity and vexation 
 of spirit, or feeding on the wind, as the word may be rendered. 
 III. We come in the third place to the inference : If ye 
 have tasted, &c., tlien lay aside all malice and guile, and 
 hypocrisies and envies, and cdl evil speakings, (ver. 1,) for it 
 looks back to the whole exhortation. Surely, if you have 
 tasted of that kindness and sweetness of God ia Christ, it will 
 compose your spirits, and conform them to Him ; it will dif- 
 
 YOL. I.
 
 194 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 fuse siicli a sweetness through your soul, that there will be on 
 place for malice and guile ; there will be nothing but love, 
 and meekness, and singleness of heart. Therefore, they who 
 have bitter, malicious spirits, evidence they have not tasted of 
 the love of God. As the Lord is good, so they who taste of 
 His goodness are made like Him. Be ye kind one to another, 
 tender-hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's 
 sake hath forgiven you. (Eph. iv. 32.) 
 
 Again, if ye have tasted, then desire more. And this will 
 be the truest sign of it : he that is in a continual huno;er and 
 thirst after this graciousness of God, has surely tasted of it. 
 My sold thirsteth for God, saith David (Psal. xlii. 2). He 
 had tasted before ; he remembers, (ver. 4,) that he ivent to the 
 house of God, with the voice of joy. 
 
 This is that happy circle wherein the soul of the believer 
 moves : the more they love it, the more they shall taste of this 
 goodness ; and the more they taste, the more they shall still 
 love and desire it. 
 
 But observe, if ye have tasted that the Lord is gracious, 
 then, desire the milk of the word. This is the sweetness of 
 the ivord, that it hath in it the Lord's graciousness, gives us 
 the knowledge of his love. This they find in it, who have 
 spiritual life and senses, and those senses exercised to discern 
 good and evil ; and this engages a Christian to further desire 
 of the w^ord. They are fantastical, deluding tastes, that draw 
 men from the Avritten word, and make them expect other reve- 
 lations. This graciousness is first conveyed to us by the 
 ivord ; there first we taste it, and therefore, there still we are 
 to seek it ; to hang upon those breasts that cannot be drawn 
 dry ; there the love of God in Christ streams forth in the 
 several promises. The heart that cleaves to the word of God, 
 and delights in it, cannot but find in it, daily, new tastes of 
 His goodness ; there it reads His love, and by that stirs up its 
 own to Him, and so grows and loves, every day more than the 
 former, and thus is tending from tastes to fulness. It is but 
 little we can receive here, some drops of joy that enter into us.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 195 
 
 but there we shall enter into joy, as vessels put into a sea of 
 liappiness. 
 
 Ver. 4. To whom, coming as unto a living slone, disallowed indeed of 
 men, but chosen of God, and precious. 
 
 Ver. 5, Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, a holy 
 priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 The spring of all the dignities of a Christian, which is there- 
 fore the great motive of all his duties, is, his near relation to 
 Jesus Christ. Thence it is that the Apostle makes that the 
 great subject of his doctrine, both to represent to his dis- 
 tressed brethren their dignity in that respect, and to press by 
 it the necessary duties he exhorts unto. Having spoken of 
 their spiritual life and growth in him, under the resemblance of 
 natural life, he prosecutes it here by another comparison very 
 frequent in the Scriptures, and therefore makes use in it of 
 some passages of these Scriptures that were prophetical of 
 Christ and his Church. Though there be here two different 
 similitudes, yet they have so near a relation one to another, 
 and meet so well in the same subject, that he joins them toge- 
 ther, and then illustrates them severally in the following 
 verses ; a temple, and a priesthood, comparing the saints to 
 both : The former in these words of this verse. 
 
 We have in it, I. The nature of the building; II. The mate- 
 rials of it ; III. The structure or way of building it. 
 
 I. The nature of it is, a spiritual building. Time and 
 place, we know, received their being from God, and He was 
 eternally before both ; He is therefore styled by the prophet. 
 The high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity (Isa. Ivii. 15). 
 But having made the world. He fills it, though not as con- 
 tained in it, and so the whole frame of it is His palace or 
 temple, but after a more special manner, the higher and state- 
 lier part of it, the highest heaven ; therefore it is called His 
 holy place, and the habitation of His holiness and glory. 
 And on earth, the houses of His public wo^'ship are called 
 His houses ; especially the Jewish temple in its time, having 
 
 O 2
 
 196' A CO>rMENTAnY UPON 
 
 in it such a relative typical holiness, ^v■hich others have not. 
 But besides all these, and beyond tlicm all in excellency, He 
 hath a house wherein he dwells more peculiai'ly than in any of 
 the rest, even more than in Heaven, taken for the place only, 
 and that is this spiritual buildiiuj. And this is most suitable 
 to the nature of God. As our Saviour says of the necessary 
 conformity of his worship to Himself, God is a Spirit, and 
 therefore will he worshipped in spirit and in truth (John 
 iv. 24) : so it holds of his house : He must have a spiritual 
 one, because he is a Spirit ; so God's temple is His people. 
 
 And for this purpose chiefly did He make the world, the 
 heaven and the earth, that in it Pie might raise this spiritual 
 building for Himself to dwell in for ever, to have a number of 
 His reasonable creatures to enjoy Him, and glorify Him in eter- 
 nity. And from that eternity He knew what the dimensions, 
 and frame, and materials of it should be. The continuance of 
 this present world, as now it is, is but for the service of this 
 work, like the scaffolding about it ; and therefore, when this 
 spiritual building shall be fully completed, all the present 
 frame of things in the world, and in the Church itself, shall be 
 taken away, and appear no more. 
 
 This Building is, as the particular designation of its mate- 
 rials will teach us, the whole invisible Church of God, and 
 each good man is a stone of this building. But as the nature 
 of it is spiritual, it hath this privilege, (as they speak of the 
 soul,) that it is fnta in toto, ct tola in (jualibet parte: the 
 whole Church is the spouse of Christ, and each believing soul 
 liath the same title and dignity to be called so ; thus, each of 
 these stones is called a whole temple, temples of the Holy 
 Ghost (1 Cor. vi. 19) ; though, taking the Temple or Build- 
 ing, in a completer sense, they are but each one a part, or a 
 stone of it, as here it is ex])ressed. 
 
 The whole excellency of this Building is comprised in this, 
 that it is spiritual, a term distinguishing it from all other 
 buildings, and preferring it above them. And inasmuch as 
 the Apostle speaks immediately after of a j^i'icsthood and
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OV PETER. 197 
 
 sacrifices, it seems to be called a splr'iluul buUdimj, particularly 
 in opposition to that material temple wherein the Jews gloried, 
 which was now null in regard of its former use, and was 
 quickly after entirely destroyed. But while it stood, and the 
 legal use of it stood in its fullest vigour, yet, in this respect, 
 still it was inferior, that it was not a spirilual house, made up 
 of llvimj stones, as this, but of a like matter Avith other 
 earthly buildings. 
 
 This spiritual house is the palace of the Great King, or His 
 temple. The Hebrew word for palace and temple is one. 
 God^s temple is a palace, and therefore must be full of the 
 richest beauty and magnificence, but such as agrees with the 
 nature of it, a spiritual beauty. In that Psalm that wishes so 
 many prosperities, one is, that their daughters may he as cor- 
 ner-stones, piolished after the similitude of a palace (Psal. 
 cxliv. 12). Thus is the Church: she is called the King's 
 dauyliter (Psal. xlv. 13); but her comeliness is invisible to the 
 world, she is cdl glorious within. Through sorrows and per- 
 secutionsj she may be smoky and black to the world's eye, as 
 the tents of Kedar ; but in regard of spiritual beauty, she is 
 comely as the curtains of Solomon. And in this the Jewish 
 temple resembles it aright, which had most of its riches and 
 beauty in the inside. Holiness is the gold of this spiritual 
 house, and it is inwardly enriched with that. 
 
 The glory of the Church of God consists not in stately 
 buildings of temples, and rich furniture, and pompous cere- 
 monies ; these agree not with its spiritual nature. Its true 
 and genuine beauty is to grow in spirituality, and so 'to be 
 liker itself, and to have more of the presence of God, and His 
 glory filling it as a cloud. And it hath been observed that 
 the more the Church grew in outward riches and state, the less 
 she grew, or rather the more sensibly she abated in spiritual 
 excellencies. But the spiritualness of this Building will better 
 appear in considering particularly, 
 
 II. The materials of it, as here expressed : To ivhom 
 coming, &c., ye also, as lively stones, are, &c. Now the
 
 198 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 whole building is Christ mystical, Christ, together with the 
 entire body of the eleet : He as the foundation, and they as 
 the stones built upon him ; He, the living stone, and they 
 likewise, by union with him, living stones; He, haviiuj life in 
 himself, (as he speaks, John vi.,) and they deriving it from him; 
 He, primitively living, and they, by participation. For there- 
 fore is He called here a liviiKj stone, not only because of his 
 immortality and glorious resurrection, being a Lamb that ivas 
 slain, and is alive again for ever, but because he is the prin- 
 ciple of spiritual and eternal life unto us, a living foundation 
 that transfuses this life into the whole building, and every 
 stone of it, In whom (says the Apostle, Ephes. ii. 21) all the 
 buildimj is fitly framed together. It is the Spirit that flows 
 from Him, which enlivens it, and knits it together, as a living 
 body ; for the same word auvoL^iMoXoyov^zwv is used, (Ch. iv. 
 16,) for the Church, under the similitude of a body. When it 
 is said, (Ch. ii. 20,) to he built upon the foundation of the 
 lyrophels and Apostles, it only refers to their doctrine concern- 
 ing Christ ; and therefore it is added, that He, as being the 
 subject of their doctrine, is the chief corner-stone. The foun- 
 dation, then, of the Church, lies not in Rome, but in Heaven, 
 and therefore is out of the i-each of all enemies, and above the 
 power of the gates of hell. Fear not, then, when you see the 
 storms arise, and the winds blow against this spiritual Build- 
 ing, for it sltall stand; it is built upon an invisible im- 
 movable Rock; and that great Babylon, Rome itself, that, 
 under the false title and pretence of supporting this Building, 
 is wwking to overthrow it, shall be utterly overthrown, and 
 laid equal with the ground, and never be rebuilt again. 
 
 But this Foundation-stone, as it is commended by its qua- 
 lity, that it is a living and enlivening stone, having life and 
 giving life to those that are built on it, so it is also further de- 
 scribed by God's choosing it, and by its own worth ; in both 
 opposed to men's disesteem, and therefore it is said Iiere to be 
 c/iosen of God, and precious. Ciod did indeed from eternity 
 contrive this Building, and choose this same Foundation, and
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 199. 
 
 accordingly, in the fulness of time, did perform His purpose 
 so, the thing being one, we may take it either for His purpose, 
 or the performance of it, or both ; yet it seems most suitable 
 to the strain of the woi'ds, and to the place after alleged, in re- 
 spect to layiiuj him in Sioii in opposition to the rejection of 
 liien, that we take it for God's actual employing of Jesus 
 Christ in the work of our redemption. He alone was fit for 
 that work ; it was utterly impossible that any other should 
 bear the weight of that service, (and so of this building,) than 
 He who was Almighty. Therefore the Spouse calls him tlie 
 select^ or choice of ten thousand, yet he was rejected of men. 
 There is an antipathy (if we may so speak) betwixt the mind 
 of God and corrupt nature ; the things that are highly esteemed 
 with men are abomination to God ; and thus we see here, 
 that which is highly esteemed with God, is cast out and dis- 
 allowed by men. But surely there is no comparison ; the 
 choosing and esteem of God stands ; and by that, (judge men 
 of Christ as they will,) he is the foundation of this Building. 
 And he is in true value answerable to this esteem : he is j9re- 
 cious, which seems to signify a kind of inward worth, hidden 
 from the eyes of men, blind unbelieving men, but well known 
 to God, and to those to whom he reveals him. And this is 
 the very cause of his rejection by the most, the ignorance of 
 his worth and excellency ; as a precious stone that the skilful 
 lapidary esteems of great value, an ignorant beholder makes 
 little or no account of. 
 
 These things hold likewise in the other stones of this Build- 
 ing ; they, too, are chosen before time : all that should be of 
 this Building, fore-ordained in God's purpose, all written in 
 that book beforehand, and then, in due time, they are chosen, 
 by actual calling, according to that purpose, hewed out and 
 severed by God's own hand, out of the quarry of corrupt na- 
 ture ; dead stones in themselves, as the rest, but made living, 
 by his bringing them to Christ, and so made truly precious, 
 and accounted precious by him who hath made them so. All 
 the stones in this Building are called God's jewels (Mai. iii. 17). 
 
 That they be vilified, and scoffed at, and despised by men.
 
 200 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 though they pass for fools and tlic refuse of llic world, yet 
 they may easily digest all that, in the comfort of this, if they 
 are chosen of God, and precious in His eyes. This is the 
 very lot of Christ, and tlicreforc by that the more welcome, 
 that it conforms them to Him, — suits these stones to their 
 Foundation. 
 
 And if we consider it aright, what a poor despicable thing is 
 the esteem of men ! How soon is it past ! It is a small thing 
 for mc, says the Apostle Paul, to be judf/cd of men (1 Cor. 
 iv. 3). Now, that God often chooses for this building such 
 stones as men cast away as good for nothing, see 1 Cor. i. 26. 
 And where he says, (Isa. Ivii. 15.) that He dwells in the hicjh 
 and holy place, ^\\mt is His other dwelling? His habitation 
 on earth, is it in great palaces and courts ? no; but ivith him 
 also that is of a contrite and humble spirit. Now, these are 
 the basest in men's account ; yet He chooses them, and prefers 
 them to all other palaces and temples. (Isa. Ixvi. 1, 2.) Thus 
 saith the Lord, l^he Heaven is my throne, and the earth, is 
 my footstool : Where is the house that ye build unto me 9 and 
 where is the place of my rest? For all those things hath mine 
 hand made, and cdl those things have been, saith the Lord : 
 Bid to this man 7cill I look, even to hhn that is poor, and of 
 a contrite spjirif, and trembleth at my ivord. ([. d. You can- 
 not gratify me with any dwelling, for I myself have made all, 
 and a surer house than any you can make me. The Heaven is 
 my tJi rone, and the earth my footstool : but I, who am so high, 
 am pleased to regard the lowly. 
 
 III. We have the structure, or way of building : To ivhom 
 coming."] First, coming, then built up. They that come 
 unto Christ, come not only from the n-orld that liclh in ivickcd- 
 ness, but out of themselves. Of a great many that seem to come 
 to Christ it may be said, that they are not come to Him, because 
 they have not left tJie7nsclves. Tiiis is believing on Him, which 
 is the very resigning of the soul to Christ, and living by him. 
 Ye will not come unto me that ye may have life, says Christ 
 (John V. 40.) He complains of it as a wrong done to him ; but 
 the loss is ours. It is his glory to give us life who were dead ;
 
 THE riRST EPISTLE OF PETEll. 201 
 
 but it is our happiness to receive that Hfc from him. Now 
 these stones come unto their foundation ; wliicli imports the 
 moving of the soul to Chi-ist, being moved by his Spirit, and 
 that the will acts, and willingly, (for it cannot act otherwise,) 
 but still as being actuated and drawn by the Father (John 
 vi. 65), No man can come to mc except the Father draw him. 
 And the outward mean of drawing, is, by the word ; it is the 
 sound of that harp, that brings the stones of this spiritual 
 building together. And then, being united to Christ, they are 
 built up ; that is, as St. Paul expresses it, (Ephes. ii. 21^) they 
 grow up unto a holy temple in the Lord. 
 
 In times of peace, the Church may dilate more, and build as 
 it were into breadth, but in times of trouble it arises more in 
 height ; it is then built upwards : as in cities where men arc 
 straitened, they build usually higher than in the country. Not- 
 withstanding the Church''s afflictions, yet still the building is 
 going forward ; it is built, as Daniel speaks of Jerusalem, in 
 troublous times. And it is this which the Apostle intends^ as 
 suiting with his foregoing exhortation : this passage may be 
 read exhortatively too ; but taking it rather as asserting their 
 condition, it is for this end, that they may remember to be like 
 it, and grow up. For this end he expressl}'^ calls them living 
 stones ; an adjunct root not usual for stones, but here insepa- 
 rable ; and therefore, though the Apostle changes the simili- 
 tude, from infants to stones, yet he will not let go this quality 
 of living, as making chiefly for his purpose. 
 
 To teach us the necessity of growth in believers, they arc 
 therefore often compared to things that grow, to trees planted 
 in fruitful growing places, as by the rivers of water ; to cedars 
 in Lebanon, where they are tallest ; to the morning light ; to 
 infants on the breast ; and here, where the word seems to re- 
 fuse it, to stones ; yet (it must, and well doth admit this un- 
 Avonted epithet) they are called living and growing stones. 
 
 If, then, you Avould have the comfortable persuasion of this 
 union with Christ, see Avhether you find your souls established 
 upon Jesus Christ, finding him as your strong foundation ; not
 
 !^02. A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 resting on yourselves, nor on any other thing either within you, 
 or without you, but supported by him alone ; drawing life 
 from him, by virtue of that union, as from a living foundation, 
 so as to say with the Apostle, / live by faith in the Son of God, 
 ivho loved me, and gave himself for me. (Gal. ii. 20.) 
 
 As these stones ai'e built on Christ by faith, so they are ce- 
 mented one to another by love ; and, therefore, where that is 
 not, it is but a delusion for persons to think themselves parts of 
 this building. As it is knit to him, it is knit together in itself 
 through him ; and if dead stones in a building support and 
 mutually strengthen one another, how much more ought living 
 stones in an active lively way so to do ! The stones of this 
 Building keep their place ; the lower rise not up to be in the 
 place of the higher. As the Apostle speaks of the parts of the 
 body, so the stones of this building in humility and love keep 
 their station, and grow up in it, edifying in love, saith the 
 Apostle, (Eph. iv. 16,) importing, that the want of this much 
 prejudices edification. 
 
 These stones, because they are living, therefore grow in the 
 life of grace and spiritualness, being a spiritual budding ; so 
 that if we find not this, but our hearts are still carnal, and 
 glued to the earth, minding earthly things, wiser in those 
 than in spirituals, this evidences strongly against us, that we 
 are not of this IJuilding. How few of us have that spiritual- 
 ness that becomes the temples of the Holy Ghost, or the stones 
 of that Building ! Base lusts are still lodging and ruling within 
 us, and so our hearts are as cages of unclean birds and filthy 
 spirits. 
 
 Consider this as your happiness, to form part of this Build- 
 ing, and consider the unsolidness of other comforts and privi- 
 leges. If some have called those stones happy, that were taken 
 for the building of temples or altars, beyond those in common 
 houses, how true is it here ! Happy indeed the stones that 
 God chooses to be living stones in this spiritual temple, though 
 they be hammered and hewed to be polished for it, by afflic- 
 tions and the inward work of mortification and repentance. It
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE 01' TETEIl. 203 
 
 is worth the enduring of all, to be fitted for this Buihhng. 
 Happy they, beyond all the rest of men, though they be set in 
 never so great lionours, as prime parts of politic buildings, 
 (states and kingdoms,) in the courts of kings, yea, or kings 
 themselves. For all other buildings, and all the parts of them, 
 shall be demolished and come to nothing, from the foundation 
 to the cope-stone ; all your houses, both cottages and palaces ; 
 the elements shall melt away, and the earth, with all the 
 works in it, shall be consumed, as our Apostle hath it (2 Pet. 
 iii. 10). But this spiritual Building shall grow up to Heaven, 
 and, being come to perfection, shall abide for ever in perfec- 
 tion of beauty and glory. In it shall be found no unclean 
 thing, nor unclean person, but only they that are ivrittcn in 
 the LaniVs book of life. 
 
 An holy priesthood.'] For the worship and ceremonies of 
 the Jewish church were all shadows of Jesus Christ, and have 
 their accomplishment in him, not only after a singular manner 
 in his own person, but in a derived way, in his mystical body, 
 his Church. The Priesthood of the Law represented him as 
 the great High Priest that offered up himself for our sins, and 
 that is a priesthood altogether incommunicable ; neither is 
 there any peculiar office of priesthood for offering sacrifice in 
 the Christian church, but his alone who is head of it. But this 
 dignity that is here mentioned, of a spiritucd priesthood, offer- 
 ing up spiritual sacrifices, is common to all those who are in 
 Christ. As they are living stones built on him into a spiritual 
 temple, so they are priests of that same temple made by him. 
 (Revel, i. 6.) As he was, after a transcendent manner, temple, 
 and priest, and sacrifice, so, in their kind, are Christians all 
 these three through him ; and by his Spirit that is in them, 
 their offerings through him are made acceptable. 
 
 We have here, I. The office ; II. The service of that office; 
 III. The success of that service. 
 
 I. The Office. The death of Jesus Christ, as being every 
 way powerful for reconcilement and union, did not only break 
 down the partition wall of guiltiness that stood betwixt God
 
 204 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 and man, but the wall of ceremonies that stood betwixt the 
 Jews and the Gentiles : it made all that believe, one Avith God, 
 and made of both one, as the Apostle speaks — united them 
 one to another. The way of salvation was made known, not 
 to one nation only, but to all people : so that whereas the 
 knowledge of God was before confined to one little corner, it is 
 now diffused through the nations ; and whereas the dignity of 
 their priesthood staid in a few persons, all they who believe 
 are now thus dignified to be priests unto God the Father. And 
 this was signified by the rending of the vail of the Temple at 
 his death ; not only that those ceremonies and sacrifices were to 
 cease, as being all fulfilled in him, but that the people of God, 
 who were before by that vail held out in the outer court, were 
 to be admitted into the Holy Place, as being all of them priests, 
 and fitted to offer sacrifices. 
 
 The Priesthood of the Law was holy, and its holiness was 
 signified by many outward things suitable to their manner, by 
 anointings, and washings, and vestments ; but in this spiritual 
 priesthood of the Gospel, holiness itself is instead of all those, 
 as being the substance of all. The children of God are all 
 anointed, and purified, and clothed with holiness. But then, 
 
 II. There is here the service of this office, namely, to offer. 
 There is no priesthood without sacrifice, for these terms arc 
 co-relative, and offering sacrifices was the chief employment of 
 the legal priests. Now, because the priesthood here spoken of 
 is altogether spiritual, therefore the sacrifices must be so too, 
 as the Apostle here expresses it. 
 
 AVe are saved the pains and cost of bringing bullocks and 
 rams, and other such sacrifices ; and these are in their stead. 
 As the Apostle speaks (Heb. vii. 12) of the high priesthood of 
 Christ, that the PricstJiood being changed, there folloived of 
 necessitg a change of the law ; so, in this priesthood of Chris- 
 tians, there is a change of the kind of sacrifice from the other. 
 All sacrifice is not taken away, but it is changed from the ofler- 
 ing of those things formerly in use, to spiritual sacrifices. 
 Now these are every way preferable ; they are easier and
 
 THE FIKST EPISTLE OF PETE 11. S05 
 
 clieaper to us, and yet more precious and acceptable to God; 
 as it follows here in the text. Even in the time when the other 
 sacrifices were in request, these spiritual offerings had ever the 
 precedence in God's account, and without them he hated and 
 despised all burnt-offerings and the largest sacrifices, though 
 they were then according to His own appointment. How much 
 more should we abound in spiritual sacrifice, who are eased of 
 the other ! How much more holds that answer now, that was 
 given even in those times to the inquiry. Wherewith shall I 
 come before the Lord 9 &c, (Mic. vi. 6.) You need not all 
 that trouble and expense, thousands of rams, &c. ; that is at 
 hand which God requires most of all, namely to do justly, and 
 to love mercy, and to ivalk humbly iviththy God. So Psalm 1. 
 23 : Whoso offereth 2Jraise. cjlorifieth me. That which is 
 peculiarly spoken of Christ, holds in Christians by conformity 
 with him. 
 
 But though the spiritual sacrificing is easier in its own nature, 
 yet, to the corrupt nature of man, it is by far the harder. He 
 would rather choose still all the toil and cost of the former way, 
 if it were in his option. This was the sin of the Jews in those 
 times, that they leaned the soul upon the body's service too 
 much, and would have done enough of that, to be dispensed 
 from this spiritual service. Hence are the Lord's frequent 
 reproofs and complaints of this, Psalm 1., Isaiah i., &c. Hence, 
 the willingness in Popery for outward work, for penances and 
 satisfactions of bodies and purses, — any thing of that kind, if 
 it might serve, rather than the inward work of repentance and 
 mortification, the spiritual service and sacrifices of the soul. 
 But the answer to all those from God, is that of the Prophet, 
 Wio hath required these tilings at your hands? 
 
 Indeed, the sacred writers press works of charity, if they be 
 done with a right-hand, and the left-hand not so much as ac- 
 quainted with the business, as our Saviour speaks, Let not thy 
 left hand know what thy right hand doth. (Matt. vi. 3.) Tiiey 
 must be done with a right and single intention, and from a riglit 
 principle moving to them, without any vain opinion of meriting
 
 9,0^ A COMMENTAUY UPOX 
 
 by them with God, or any vain desire of gaining applause with 
 men, but merely out of love to God, and to man for His sake. 
 Thus they become one of these spiritual sacrifices, and there- 
 fore ought by no means to be neglected by Christian priests, 
 that is, by any who are Christians. 
 
 Another spiritual sacrifice is, the prayers of the saints : Rev. 
 V. 8. — Psal. cxli. 2. Let my prayer he set forth before thee as 
 incense, and the Ufting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice. 
 It is not the composition of prayer, or the eloquence of expres- 
 sion, that is the sweetness of it in God's account, and makes it 
 a sacrifice of a pleasing smell or sweet odour to Him, but the 
 breathing forth of the desire of the heart ; that is what makes 
 it a spiritual sacrifice, otherwise, it is as carnal, and dead, and 
 worthless in God's account, as the carcasses of beasts. Incense 
 can neither smell nor ascend without fire ; no more doth prayer, 
 unless it arises from a bent of spiritual affection : it is that which 
 both makes it smell, and sends it heavenwards, makes it never 
 leave moving upwards, till it come before God, and smell sweet 
 in His nostrils, which few, too few, of our praj-ers do. 
 
 Praise also is a sacrifice ; to make respectful and honourable 
 mention of the name of God, and of His goodness; to bless 
 Him humbly and heartily. (See Heb. xiii. 15, and Psal. 1. 14, 
 23.) Offer unto God thanksfjiving. JVhoso offereth 'praise, 
 (jlorifieth me. And this is that sacrifice that shall never end, 
 but continues in heaven to eternity. 
 
 Then, a holy course of life is called the sacrifice of righ- 
 teousness (Psal. iv. 6, and Phil, iv. 18.) So also (Heb.xiil. 16,) 
 Avhere the Apostle shews what sacrifices succeed to those whicli, 
 as he hath taught at large, are abolished. Christ was sacrificed 
 for us, and that offering alone was powerful to take away sin ; 
 but our gratulatory sacrifices, praise and alms, are as incense 
 burnt to God, of which as the standers-by find the sweet smell, 
 so the holy life of Christians smells sweet to those with wliom 
 they live. But the wicked, as putrefied carcasses, are of a noi- 
 some smell to God and man. They are corrupt; they have 
 done abominable works. (Psal. xiv. 4.)
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 207 
 
 In a word, that sacrifice of ours which includes all these, and 
 witliout which none of these can be rightly offered, is, Ourselces, 
 our whole selves. Our bodies are to be presented a livhuj sa- 
 crifice (Rom. xii. 1) ; and they are not that without our souls. 
 It is our heart given, that gives all the rest, for that commands 
 all. My son, give me thy heart, and then the other will follow, 
 thine eyes will delight in my ways. This makes the eyes, 
 ears, tongue, and hands, and all, to be holy, as God's peculiar 
 property ; and being once given and consecrate to Him, it be- 
 comes sacrilege to turn them to any unholy use. This makes 
 a man delight to hear and speak of things that concern God, and 
 to think on Him frequently, to be holy in his secret thoughts, 
 and in all his ways. In every thing we bring Him, every 
 thanksgiving and prayer we offer, His eye is upon the heart : 
 He looks if it be along with our offering, and if He miss it, He 
 cares not for all the rest, but throws it back again. 
 
 The heart must be offered withal, and the whole heart, all of 
 it entirely given to Him. Se totum ohtulit Christus pro nobis : 
 Christ offered up his whole self for us. In another sense, which 
 crosses not this, thy heart must not be whole but broken. (Psal. 
 li. 17.) But if thou find it unbroken, yet give it Him, with a 
 desire that it may be broken. And if it be broken, and if, when 
 thou hast given it Him, He break it more, yea and melt it too, 
 yet thou shalt not repent thy gift ; for He breaks and melts it, 
 that He may refine it, and make it up a new and excellent 
 frame, and may impress His own image on it, and make it holy, 
 and so like to Himself. 
 
 Let us then give Him ourselves or nothing ; and to give 
 ourselves to Him is not His advantage, but ours. As the 
 philosopher said to his poor scholar, who, when others gave him 
 great gifts, told him. He had nothing but Himself to give ; It 
 is icell, said he, and I ivill endeavour to give thee back to thy- 
 self better than I received thee: — thus doth God with us, and 
 thus doth a Christian make himself his daily sacrifice : he 
 renews this gift of himself every day to God, and receiving it 
 every day bettered again, still he hath the more delight in
 
 208 A COMMEXTARY UPON 
 
 giving it, as being fitter for God, the more it is sanctified by 
 former sacrificing. 
 
 Now tliat whereby ive oflf'er all other s]Mritual sacrifices, and 
 even ourselves, is love. That is the holy fire that burns up 
 all, sends up our prayers, and our hearts, and our whole selves 
 a whole burnt offering to God ; and, as the fire of the altar, 
 it is originally from Heaven, being kindled by God's own love 
 to us ; and by this the Church (and so each believer) ascends 
 like a straight piUar of smoke, (as the word is. Cant. ili. G,) 
 going even up to God perfumed ivith aloes and all the spices, 
 all the graces of the Spirit received from Christ, but above all, 
 with his own merits. 
 
 How far from this are the common multitude of us, though 
 professing to be Christians ! Who considers his holy calling.'^ 
 As the peculiar holiness of the ministry should be much in 
 their eye and thoughts who are called to it, as tliey should study 
 to be answerably eminent in holiness, so, all you that are Chris- 
 tians, consider, you are priests unto God ; being called a holy 
 ptriestliood, thus you ought to be. But if we speak Avhat we are 
 indeed, we must say rather, we are an imholy priesthood, a 
 shame to that name and holy profession. Instead of the sacri- 
 fice of a godly life, and the incense of prayer and praise, in 
 families and alone, what is there with many, but the filthy va- 
 pours of profane speaking and a profane life, as a noisome 
 smell arisino- out of a dunghill ? 
 
 But you that have once offered up yourselves unto God, and 
 are still doing so with all the services you can reach, continue 
 to do so, and be assured, th.at how unworthy soever yourselves 
 and all your offerings be, yet they shall not be rejected. 
 
 The Third thing here observable is, the Success of that ser- 
 vice : Aixeptahle to God by Jesus Christ (Heb. xiii. 16). Tlie 
 children of God do delight in ofi'ering sacrifices to Him ; but if 
 they might not know that they were well taken at their hands, 
 this would discourage them much ; therefore this is added. 
 How often do the godly find it in their sweet experience, that 
 when they come to pray, He welcomes them, and gives them
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 209 
 
 such evidences of His love, as they would not exchange for all 
 worldly pleasures ! And when this doth not so presently 
 appear at other times, yet they ought to believe it. He accepts 
 themselves and their ways when offered in sincerity, though 
 never so mean ; though they sometimes have no more than a 
 sigh or a groan, it is most properly a spiritual sacrifice. 
 
 Stay not away because thou, and the gifts thou offercst, are 
 inferior to the offering of others. No, none are excluded for 
 that; only give what thou hast, and act with affection, for that 
 he regards most. Under the law, they who had not a lamb, 
 were welcome with a pair of pigeons. So that the Christian 
 may say, What I am. Lord, I offer myself unto Thee, to be 
 wholly Thine ; and had I a thousand times more of outward 
 or imvard gifts, all should be Thine ; had I a greater estate, 
 or wit, or learnimj, or power, I would endeavour to serve 
 Thee with all. What I have, I offer Thee, and it is most 
 tridy Thine ; it is hut of Thy own that I give Thee. No 
 one needs forbear sacrifice for poverty, for what God desires, is, 
 the heart, and there is none so poor, but hath a heart to give 
 him. 
 
 But meanness is not all ; there is a guiltiness on ourselves 
 and on all we offer ; our prayers and services are polluted. 
 But this hinders not neithei- ; for our acceptance is not for 
 ourselves, but for the sake of One who hath no guiltiness at all : 
 Acceptable by Jesus Christ. In Him, our persons are clothed 
 with righteousness, and in His clothing, we are, as Isaac said of 
 Jacob in his brother's garments, as the smell of a field that the 
 Lord hath blessed (Gen. xxvii. 27). And all our other sacri- 
 fices, our prayers, and services, if we offer them by Him, and 
 put them into His hand, to offer to the Father, then doubt not 
 they will be accepted in Him ; for this By Jesus Christ, is 
 relative both to our offering and our acceptance. We ought 
 not to offer any dung but by Him (Heb. xiii. 15) ; and so, we 
 are well-pleasing to the Father. For he is His well-beloved 
 Son, in whom His soul is delighted ; not only delighted and 
 Vol. I. r
 
 210 A COMMENTARY UPOX 
 
 pleased witli himself, but in him, with all things and persons 
 that appear in him, and arc presented by him. 
 
 And this alone answers all our doubts. For we ourselves, 
 as little as we see that way, yet may see so much in our best 
 services, so many wanderings in prayer, so much deadness, &c., 
 as would make us still doubtful of acceptance; so that we 
 might say with Job, Althoiujli he had answered me, yet woidd 
 I not believe that he had hearkened to me ; were it not for 
 this, that our prayers and all our sacrifices pass through Christ*'s 
 hand. He is that Angel that hath much sweet odours, to 
 mingle with the prayers of the Saints (Rev. viii. 3, 4). He 
 purifies them with his own merits and intercession, and so 
 makes them pleasing unto the Father. How ought our hearts 
 to be knit to Him, by whom we are brought into favour 
 with God, and kept in favour with Him, in whom we ob- 
 tain all the good we receive, and in whom all we offer is 
 accepted ! In Him are all our supplies of grace, and our 
 hopes of glory. 
 
 Ver. 6. Wherefore also it is contained in the scripture: behold I lay in 
 Sion a chief corner-stone, elect, precious : and he that believeth on 
 him shall not be confounded. 
 
 That which is tlie chief of the works of God, is therefore very 
 reasonably the chief subject of his word, as both most excellent 
 in itself, and of most concernment for us to know ; and this is, 
 the saving of lost mankind by his Son. Therefore is his name 
 as precious ointment, or perfume, diffused through the whole 
 Scriptures: all these holy leaves smell of it, not only those that 
 were written after his coming, but those that were written be- 
 fore. Search the Scriptures, says he himself, for they testify 
 of me, (John v. 39,) namely, the scriptures of the Old Testa- 
 ment, which were alone then written ; and to evidence this, 
 both Himself and his Apostles make so frequent use of their 
 testimony, and we find so much of them inserted into the New, 
 as being both one in substance — their lines meeting in the same 
 Jesus Christ as their centre.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 211 
 
 The Apostlo having, in the foregoing verse, expressed the 
 happy estate and dignity of Christians under the double notion, 
 1. Of a spiritual house or temple, 2. Of a spiritual priesthood, — 
 here amplifies and confirms both from the writings of the Pro- 
 phets ; the former, verses 6, 7, 8 ; the latter, verse 9. The 
 places that he cites, touching this Building, are most pertinent, 
 for they have clearly in them all that he spoke of it, both con- 
 cerning the foundation and the edifice : as the first, in these 
 words of Isaiah, (Chap, xxviii. 16,) Behold I lay in Sion a 
 chief corner-stone, &c. 
 
 Let this commend the Scriptures much to our diligence and 
 affection, that their great theme is, our Redeemer, and redemp- 
 tion wrought by Him ; that they contain the doctrine of his 
 excellencies, — are the lively picture of his matchless beauty. 
 Were we more in them, we should daily see more of him in 
 them, and so of necessity love him more. But we must look 
 within them : the latter is but the case ; the spiritual sense is 
 Avhat we should desire to see. We usually huddle them over, 
 and see no further than their outside, and therefore find so 
 little sweetness in them ; we read them, but we search them 
 not, as he requires. Would we dig into those golden mines, 
 we should find treasures of comfort that cannot be spent, but 
 which would furnish us in the hardest times. 
 
 The prophecy here cited, if we look upon it in its own 
 place, we shall find inserted in the middle of a very sad denun- 
 ciation of judgment against the Jews. And this is usual with 
 the Prophets, particularly with this evangelical prophet Isaiah, 
 to uphold the spirits of the godly, in the worst times, with this 
 one great consolation, the promise of the Messiah, as weighing- 
 down all, alike temporal distresses and deliverances. Hence 
 are those sudden ascents (so frequent in the Prophets) from 
 their present subject to this great Hojje of Israel. And if 
 this expectation of a Saviour was so pertinent a comfort in all 
 estates, so many ages before the accomplishment of it, how 
 wrongfully do we undervalue it being accomplished, if we can- 
 not live upon it, and answer all with it, and sweeten all our 
 
 P 2
 
 212 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 griefs "svith this advantage, tliat there Is a foundation-stone 
 laid in Sion on which they that are builded shall be sure not 
 to be ashamed ! 
 
 In these words there are five things, 1. This Foundation- 
 stone ; 2. The laying of it ; 3. The building on it ; 4. The 
 firmness of this building 3 and 5. The greatness and excellency 
 of the work. 
 
 ' 1st. For the Foundation, called here a chief corner-stone. 
 Though the Prophet's words are not precisely rendered, yet 
 the substance and sense of them are the same. In Isaiah, both 
 expressions, a foundation, and a corner-stone, are employed, 
 (Ch. xxviii. ver. IG,) the corner-stone in the foundation being 
 the main support of the building, and throughout, the corner- 
 stones uniting and knitting the building together ; and there- 
 fore this same word, a corner, is frequently taken in Scripture 
 for jirinces, or heads of people, (see Judg. xx. 2; 1 Sam. xiv. 
 38,) because good governors and government are that which 
 upholds and unites the societies of people in states or king- 
 doms as one building. And Jesus Christ is indeed the alone 
 head and king of his Church, who gives it laws, and rules it in 
 wisdom and righteousness ; the alone rock on wliich His 
 Church is built ; not Peter, (if we will believe St. Peter him- 
 self, as here he teacheth us,) much less his pretended succes- 
 sors ; He is the foundation and corner-stone that knits together 
 the walls of Jews and Gentiles, havinij made of both one, as 
 St. Paul speaks, (Eph. ii. 14,) and unites the whole number of 
 believers into one everlasting temple, and bears the weight of 
 the whole fabric. 
 
 Elected,'} or chosen out for the purpose, and altogether fit for 
 it. Isaiah hath it, A stone of trial, or a tried stone, as things 
 amongst men are best chosen after ti-ial. So Jesus Christ was 
 certainly known by the Father as most fit for that work to 
 which he chose him before he tried him, as after, upon trial in 
 his life, and death, and resurrection, he proved fully answerable 
 to his Father's purpose, in all that was ap})ointed him. 
 
 All the strenfrth of ancels combined had not sufiiccd for that
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEU. 213 
 
 business ; but tlic wise Architect of this Building knew both 
 Avhat it Avould cost, and what a foundation was needful to bear 
 so great and so lasting a structure as he intended. Sin having 
 defaced and demolished the first building of man in the integrity 
 of his creation, it was God's design, out of the very ruins of 
 fallen man, to raise a more lasting edifice than the former, one 
 that should not be subject to decay, and therefore He fitted for 
 it a Foundation that might be everlasting. The sure founding 
 is the main thing requisite in order to a lasting building ; 
 therefore, that it might stand for the true honour of His ma- 
 jesty, (which Nebuchadnezzar vainly boasted of his Babel,) He 
 chose His own Son, made flesh. He was God, that he might 
 be a strong foundation ; he was Man, that he might be suit- 
 able to the nature of the stones whereof the building was to 
 consist, that they might join the cement together. 
 
 Precious.^ Inestimably precious, by all the conditions that 
 can give worth to any ; by rareness, and by inward excellency, 
 and by useful virtues. Rare He is, out of doubt ; there is 
 not such a person in the world again ; therefore He is called 
 by the same prophet, (Isa. ix. 6,) Wonderful^ full of won- 
 ders : — the power of God and the frailty of Man dwelling 
 together in his person ; the Ancient of days becoming an 
 infant ; He that stretched forth the Heavens, bound up in 
 swaddling clothes in that his infancy, and in his full age 
 stretched forth on the cross ; altogether spotless and innocent, 
 and yet suffering not only the unjust cruelties of men, but the 
 just wrath of God his Father ; the Lord of Life, and yet 
 dying ! His excellency appears in the same things, in that he 
 is the Lord of life, God blessed for ever, equal with the 
 Father : the sparkling brightness of this precious stone is no 
 less than this, that he is the brightness of the Father's glory ; 
 (Heb. i. 3 ;) so bright, that men could not have beheld him 
 appearing in himself ; therefore, he vailed it with our flesh ; 
 and yet, through that it shined and sparkled so, that the Apostle 
 St. John says of himself and of those others who had their eyes 
 opened, and looked right upon him. He dwelt amongst us, and
 
 S14 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 he had a tent like ours, and yet tlirough that we saw his glory, 
 as the glory of the only begotten Son of God, full of grace and 
 truth, (John i. 14,) — the Deity filling his human nature with 
 all manner of grace in its highest perfection. And Christ is 
 not only thus excellent in himself, but of precious virtue, 
 which he lets forth and imparts to others ; of such virtue, that 
 a touch of him is the only cure of spiritual diseases. Men tell 
 of strange virtues of some stones ; but it is certain that this 
 Precious Stone hath not only virtue to heal the sick, but even 
 to raise the dead. Dead bodies he raised in the days of his 
 abode on earth, and dead souls he still doth raise by the power 
 of his word. The prophet IVlalachi calls him the Sun of Right- 
 eousness, (ch. iv. 2,) which includes in it the rareness and 
 excellency we speak of: he is singular; as there is but one 
 sun in the world, so but one Saviour ; and his lustre is such a 
 stone as outshines the sun in its fullest brightness. And then 
 for his useful virtue, the Prophet adds, that He hath healing 
 under his wings. This his worth is unspeakable, and remains 
 infinitely beyond all these resemblances. 
 
 ^dly, There is here the laying of this Foundation : it is 
 said to be laid in Sion ; that is, it is laid in the Church of 
 God. And it was first laid in Sion, literally, that being then 
 the seat of the Church and of the true religion ; he was laid 
 there, in his manifestation in the flesh, and suffering, and 
 dying, and rising again ; and afterwards, being preached 
 through the world, he became the foundation of his Church in 
 all places where his name was received ; and so Avas a stone 
 growing great, till ii filled the ivhole earth, as Daniel hath it, 
 (ch. ii. V. 35.) 
 
 He saith, / lay ; by which the Lord expresseth this to be 
 His own proper work, as the Psalmist speaks of the same sub- 
 ject (Psal. cxviii. 23.) This is the Lord's doing; and it is 
 marvellous in our eyes. So Isaiah, speaking of this pro- 
 mised Messiah, The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform this 
 (ch.ix. 7). 
 
 And itjs not only said, / lay, because God the Father liad
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 215 
 
 the first thought of this great work, — tlie model of it was in 
 His mind from eternity, and the accomphshment of it was by 
 His almighty power in the morning of his Son's birth, and his 
 hfe, and death, and resurrection ; but also, to signify the free- 
 ness of his grace, in giving His Son to be a foundation of 
 happiness to man, without the least motion from man, or mo- 
 tive in man, to draw Him to it. And this seems to be signified 
 by the unexpected inserting of these prophetical promises of 
 the Messiah, in the midst of complaints of the people's wicked- 
 ness, and threatening them with punishment ; to intimate that 
 there is no connexion betwixt this work and any thing on man's 
 part to procure it ; q. d., Although you do thus provoke me 
 to destroy you, yet, of Myself I have other thoughts, there is 
 another purpose in my mind. And it is observable to this 
 purpose, that that clearest promise of the virgin's Son is 
 given, not only unrequired, but being refused by that profane 
 king Ahaz, Isa. vii. 10 — 13. 
 
 This, again, that the Lord himself is the Layer of this 
 Corner-stone, teaches us the firmness of it ; which is likewise 
 expressed in the Prophet's words, very emphatically, by re- 
 doubling the same word, Musad, Musad ; fundamentum, 
 fundamentum. 
 
 So, Psal. ii. 6, / have set my king upon my holy hill of 
 Sion : — who then shall dethrone him ? I have given him the 
 heathen for his inheritance, and the ends of the earth for his 
 possession ; and who will hinder him to take possession of his 
 right ? If any offer to do so, what shall they be, but a number 
 of earthen vessels fighting against an iron sceptre, and so cer- 
 tainly breaking themselves in pieces ? Thus here, / lay this 
 foundation-stone ; and if I lay it, who shall remove it ? and 
 what I build upon it, who shall be able to cast down ? For it 
 is the glory of this great Master-builder, that the whole fabric 
 which is of His building cannot be ruined ; and for that end 
 hath He laid an unmoveable foundation ; and for that end 
 are we taught and reminded of its firmness, that we may have 
 this confidence concerning the Church of God that is built
 
 216 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 upon it. To the eye of nature, the Church seems to have no 
 foundation ; as Job speaks of the earth, that it is hun<j vpon 
 vothinij, and yet, as the earth remaineth firm, being estabhshed 
 in its place by the Avord and power of God, the Church is 
 most firmly founded upon the Word made flesh — Jesus Christ 
 as its chief corner-stone. And as all the winds that blow 
 cannot remove the earth out of its place, so neither can all the 
 attempts of men, no, nor of tlie yates of Hell, jnevail cujainst 
 the Church (Matt. xvi. 18). It may be beaten with very 
 boisterous storms, but it cannot fall, because it is founded 
 upon this Rock (Matt. vii. 25). Thus it is with die whole 
 house, and thus with every stone in it : as here it follows, He 
 that believeth shall not he confounded. 
 
 3d/y, There is next, the buildin</ on this Foundation. To 
 be built on Christ, is plainly to believe in him. But in this 
 the most deceive themselves ; they hear of great privileges and 
 happiness in Christ, and presently imagine it as all theirs, 
 without any more ado ; as that mad man of Athens, who wrote 
 up all the ships that came into the haven for his own. We 
 consider not what it is to believe in him, nor what is the neces- 
 sity of this believing, in order that we may be partakers of the 
 salvation that he hath wrought. It is not they that have heard 
 of him, or that have some common knowledge of him, or that 
 are able to discourse of him, and s})cak of his person and nature 
 aright, but fheij that hdieve in him. INIuch of our knowledge 
 is like that of the poor philosopher, who defineth riches exactly, 
 and discourseth of their nature, but posscsscth none ; or we are 
 as a geometrician, who can measure land exactly in all its di- 
 mensions, but possesses not a foot thereof. And truly it is 
 but a lifeless unsavoury knowledge that men have of Christ by 
 all books and study, till he reveal Jiimself and persuade the 
 heart to believe in him. Then, indeed, when it sees him, and 
 is made one with him, it says of all the reports it heard, I heard 
 much, yet the half was not told me. There is in lively faith, 
 when it is infused into the soul, a clearer knowledge of Christ 
 and his excellency than before, and with it a recumbency of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 217 
 
 the soul upon him, as the foundation of its hfe and comfort ; a 
 resolving to rest on him, and not to depart from him upon any 
 terms. Though I be beset on all hands, be accused by the Law, 
 and by mine own conscience, and by Satan, and have nothing 
 to answer for myself, yet here I will stay, for I am sure in 
 him there is salvation, and no where else. All other refuges 
 are but lies, (as it is expressed in the words before these in the 
 Prophet,) poor base shifts that will do no good. God hath 
 laid this precious Stone in Sion, for this very purpose, that 
 weary souls may rest upon it ; and why should not I make use 
 of it according to His intention ? He hath not forbid any, 
 how wretched soever, to believe, but commands it, and Himself 
 works it where he will, even in the vilest sinners. 
 
 Think it not enough that you know this Stone is laid, but 
 see whether you are built on it by faith. The multitude of 
 imaginary believers lie round about it, but they are never the 
 better nor the surer for that, any more than stones that lie 
 loose in heaps near unto a foundation, but are not joined to it. — 
 There is no benefit to us by Christ, without union with him ; 
 no comfort in his riches, without an interest in them, and a 
 title to them, by virtue of that union. Then is the soul right, 
 when it can say, He is altoyether lovely, and as the Spouse, 
 (Cant. iii. 16,) He is mine, my well-heloved. This union is 
 the spring of all spiritual consolations. And faith, by which we 
 are thus united, is a Divine work. He that laid this Founda- 
 tion in Sion with His own hand, Avorks likewise with the same 
 hand, faith in the heart, by which it is knit to this corner-stone. 
 It is not so easy as we imagine, to believe. (See Eph. i. 19.) 
 Many that think they believe, are, on the contrary, like those 
 of whom the Prophet there speaks, as hardened in sin and car- 
 nally secure, whom he represents as in covenant with hell and 
 death, walking in sin, and yet promising themselves impunity. 
 
 Mhly, There is ike firmness of this Building, namely. He 
 that believetli on him shall not be confounded. This firmness 
 is answerable to the nature of the foundation. Not only the 
 whole frame, but every stone of it abideth sure. It is a simple
 
 218 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 mistake, to judge the persuasion of perseverance to be self-pre- 
 sumption : tliey that have it are far from building it on them- 
 selves, but their foundation is that whicli makes them sure; 
 because it doth not only remain firm itself, but indissolubly 
 supports all that are once built on it. In the Prophet whence 
 this is cited, it is, Shall not make haste, but the sense is one : 
 they that are disappointed and ashamed in their hopes, run to 
 and fro, and seek after some new resource ; this they shall not 
 need to do who come to Christ. The believing soul makes 
 haste to Christ, but it never finds cause to hasten from him ; 
 and though the comfort it expects and longs for be for a time 
 deferred, yet it gives not over, knowing that in due time it shall 
 rejoice, and shall not have cause to blush and think shame of its 
 confidence in him. David expresseth this distrust, by making 
 haste, (Psal. xxxi. 22, and cxvi. 11,) / ivas too hasty when I 
 said so. Hopes frustrated, especially where they have been 
 raised high, and continued long, do reproach men with folly, and 
 so shame them. And thus do all earthly hopes serve us, when we 
 lean much upon them. We find usually those things that have 
 promised us most content, pay us with vexation ; and they not 
 only prove broken reeds, deceiving our trust, but hurtful, run- 
 ning their broken splinters into our hand who leaned on them. 
 This sure Foundation is laid for us, that our souls may be esta- 
 blished on it, and be as Mount Sion, that cannot be removed, 
 (Psal. cxxv. 1.) Such times may come as will shake all other 
 supports, but this holds out against all, (Psal. xlvi. 2,) Though 
 the earth be removed, yet will not we fear. Though the frame 
 of the world were cracking about a man's ears, he may hear it 
 unaffrighted who is built on this Foundation. Why then do 
 we choose to build vpon the sand ? Believe it, wheresoever 
 we lay our confidence and affection besides Christ, it shall 
 sooner or later repent us and shame us ; either happily in time, 
 while we may yet change them for him, and have recourse to 
 him; or miserably, when it is too late. Remember that we 
 must die, and must appear before the judgment-seat of God, 
 and that the things we doat on here, have neither power to stay
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 219 
 
 US here, nor have we power to take them along with us, nor, 
 if we could, would they at all profit us there ; and therefore, 
 when we look back upon them all at parting, we shall wonder 
 what fools we were to make so poor a choice. And in tlial 
 (jreat day, ic/icrcin all faces shall, gaf her blackness, (Joel ii. 6,) 
 and be filled with confusion, that have neglected to make 
 Christ their stay when he was offered them, then it shall appear 
 how happy they are who have trusted in him ; They shall not 
 be confounded, but shall lift vp their faces, and be acquitted 
 in him. In their present estate they may be exercised, but 
 then they shall not be confounded, nor ashamed, — there is a 
 double negation in the original, — by no means ; they shall be 
 more than conquerors through him ivho hath loved them. (Rom. 
 viii. 37.) 
 
 5thly, The last thing observable is, the greatness and excel- 
 lency of the work, intimated in that first word, Behold, which 
 imports this work to be very remarkable, and calls the eyes to 
 fix upon it. 
 
 The Lord is marvellous in the least of his works ; but in this 
 He hath manifested more of his wisdom and power, and let out 
 more of his love to mankind, than in all the rest. Yet we are 
 foolish, and childishly gaze about us upon trifles, and let this 
 great work pass unregarded ; we scarcely afford it half an eye. 
 Turn your wandering eyes this way ; look upon this ijrecious 
 Stone, and behold him, not in mere speculation, but so behold 
 him as to lay hold on him. For we see he is therefore here 
 set forth, that we may believe on him, and so not be con- 
 founded ; that we may attain this blessed union, that cannot be 
 dissolved. All other unions are dissoluble : a man may be 
 plucked from his dwelling-house and lands, or they from him, 
 though he have never so good a title to them ; may be removed 
 from his dearest friends, the husband from the wife, if not by 
 other accidents in their lifetime, yet sure by death, the great 
 dissolver of all those unions, and of that straitest one, of the 
 soul with the body ; but it can do nothing against this union, 
 but, on the contrary, perfects it. For J am persuaded, says
 
 220 A C0MME5JTARY UPON 
 
 St. Paul, that nolfhcr death, nor life, nor anr/els, nor prlnci- 
 palities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, 
 nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, sliall be able to 
 separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our 
 Lord. (Horn. viii. 38, 39.) 
 
 There is a twofold mistake concerning faith : on the one 
 side, they that are altogether void of it, abusing and flattering 
 themselves in a vain opinion that they have it ; and^ on the 
 other side, they that have it, misjudging their own condition, 
 and so depriving themselves of much comfort and sweetness 
 that they might find in their believing. 
 
 The former is the worse, and yet by far the commoner evil. 
 What one says of wisdom is true of faith. Many would seek 
 after it, and attain it, if they did. not falsely imagine that they 
 have attained it already *. There is nothing more contrary 
 to the lively nature of faith, than for the soul not to be at all 
 busied with the thoughts of its own spiritual condition ; and 
 yet this very character of unbelief passes with a great many 
 for believing. They doubt not, that is, indeed, they consider 
 not what they are ; their minds are not at all on these things ; 
 are not awakened to seek dihgently after Jesus, so as not to 
 rest till they find him. They are well enough without him ; 
 it suffices them to hear there is such a one, but they ask not 
 themselves, Is he mine, or no .'' Surely, if that be all — not 
 to doubt, the brutes believe as well as they. It were better, 
 out of all question, to be labouring under doubtings, if it be a 
 more hopeful condition, to find a man groaning and complain- 
 ing, than speechless, and breathless, and not stirring at all. 
 
 There be in spiritual doubtings two things ; there is a solici- 
 tous care of the soul concerning its own estate, and a diligent 
 inquiry into it, and that is laudable, being a true work of the 
 Spirit of God ; but the other thing in them is, perplexity and 
 distrust arising from darkness and weakness in the soul. Where 
 there is a great deal of smoke, and no clear flame, it argues 
 
 * ]'ato multos potuisse ad sapienliam pervcnire, nisi putassent se jam 
 pervenisse. — Seneca, De Tranquillitate.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 221 
 
 much moisture in the matter, yet it witnessetli certainly tliat 
 there is fire there ; and, therefore, dubious questioning of a man 
 concerning himself is a much better evidence than that sense- 
 less deadness which most take for believing. Men that i<no\v 
 nothing in sciences have no doubts. He never truly believed 
 who was not made first sensible and convinced of unbelief. 
 This is the Spirit's first errand in the world, to convince it of 
 sin : and the sin is this, that they believe not, (John xvi. 8, 9.) 
 If the faith that thou hast, grew out of thy natural heart of 
 itself, be assured it is but a weed. The right plant of faitli is 
 always set by God's own hand, and it is watered and preserved 
 by Him ; because exposed to many hazards, He watches it 
 night and day. (Isa. xxvii. 3.) / the Lord do keep it, I will 
 water it every moment^ lest any hurt it; I will keep it night 
 and day. 
 
 Again, how impudent is it in the most to pretend they 
 believe, while they wallow in profaneness ! If faith unite the 
 soul unto Christ, certainly it puts it into participation of his 
 Spirit ; for if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, lie is 
 none of his, says St. Paul. This faith in Christ brings us 
 into communion with God. Now God is light, says St. John, 
 and he therefore infers. If we say we have fellowship with 
 God, and ivalk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth, 
 (1 John i. 6) The lie appears in our practice, an unsuitableness 
 in our carriage ; as one said of him that signed his verse wrong, 
 Fecit soloecismum manu. 
 
 But there be imaginary believers who are a little more refined, 
 who live after a blameless, yea, and a religious manner, as 
 to their outward behaviour, and yet are but appearances of 
 Christians, have not the living work of faith within, and all 
 these exercises are dead works, in their hands. Amongst 
 these, some may have such motions within them as may deceive 
 themselves, while their external deportment deceives others; 
 they may have some transient touches of desire to Christ, upon 
 the unfolding of his excellencies in the preaching of the word, 
 and upon some conviction of their own necessity, and may
 
 222 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 conceive some joy upon thoughts of apprehending him ; and 
 yet all this proves but a vanishing fancy, an embracing of a 
 shadow. And because men who are thus deluded meet not 
 with Christ indeed, do not really find his sweetness, therefore, 
 within a while, they return to the pleasures of sin, and their 
 latter end proves worse than their beginning, (1 Pet. ii. 20.) 
 Their hearts could not possibly be steadfast, because there was 
 nothing to fix them on, in all that work wherein Christ himself 
 was wanting. 
 
 But the truly believing soul that is brought unto Jesus 
 Christ, and fastened upon him by God's own hand, abides 
 stayed on him, and departs not. And in these persons, the 
 very belief of the things that are spoken concerning Christ in 
 the Gospel, the persuasion of Divine truth, is of a higher 
 nature than the common consent that is called historical ', they 
 have another knowledge and evidence of the mysteries of the 
 kingdom, than natural men can have. This is indeed the 
 ground of all, the very thing that causes a man to rest upon 
 Christ, when he hath a persuasion wrought in his heart by the 
 Spirit of God, that Christ is an able Redeemer, a sufficient Sa- 
 viour, able to save all that come to him, (Heb. vii. 25.) Then, 
 upon this, the heart resolves upon that course : Seeing I am 
 persuaded of this, that whoso believes in him shall not perish, 
 but have everlasting life, (or, as it is here, shall not be con- 
 fnindcd,) I am to deliberate no longer ; this is the thing I 
 must do, I must lay my soul upon him, upon one who is an 
 Almighty Redeemer ; and it does so. Now, these first actings 
 of faith have in themselves an evidence that distinguishes them 
 from all that is counterfeit, a light of their own, by which the 
 soul wherein they are may discern them, and say. This is the 
 right work of faith ; especially when God shines upon the soul, 
 and clears it in the discovery of His own work within it. 
 
 And further, they may find the influence of faith upon the 
 affections, purifying them, as our Apostle says of it, (Acts xv. 
 9.) Faith knits the heart to a holy Head, a pure Lord, the 
 Spring of purity, and therefore cannot choose but make it
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 223 
 
 pure; it is a beam from Heaven, that raises the mind to a 
 heavenly temper. Although there arc remains of sin in a 
 believing soul, yet it is a hated, wearisome guest there. It 
 exists there, not as its delight, but as its greatest grief and 
 malady, which it is still lamenting and complaining of; it had 
 rather be rid of it than gain a world. Thus the soul is purified 
 from the love of sin. 
 
 So, then, where these are — a spiritual apprehension of the 
 
 -promises, a cleaving of the soul unto Christ, and such a delight 
 
 in him as makes sin vile and distasteful, so that the heart is set 
 
 against it, and, as the needle touched with the loadstone, is 
 
 still turned towards Christ, and looks at him in all estates, — 
 
 the soul that is thus disposed hath certainly interest in him ; 
 
 and therefore ought not to affect an humour of doubting, but 
 
 to conclude, that how unworthy soever in itself, yet, being in 
 
 Him, ii shall not be ashamed : not onlv it shall never have 
 
 cause to think shame of Him, but all its just cause of shame 
 
 in itself shall be taken away ; it shall be covered with His 
 
 righteousness, and appear so before the Father. Who must 
 
 not think, If my sins were to be set in order, and appear 
 
 against me, how would my face be filled with shame ! Though 
 
 there were no more, if some thoughts that I am guilty of were 
 
 laid to my charge, I were utterly ashamed and undone. Oh ! 
 
 there is nothing in myself but matter of shame, but yet in 
 
 Christ there is more matter of glorying, who endured shame, 
 
 that we might not be ashamed. We cannot distrust ourselves 
 
 enough, nor trust enough in Him. Let it be right faith, and 
 
 there can be no excess in believing. Though I have sinned 
 
 against Him, and abused His goodness, yet I will not leave 
 
 Him ; for whither should I go? He, and none but He, hath 
 
 the words of eternal life. Yea, though He, being so often 
 
 offended, should threaten to leave me to the shame of my own 
 
 follies, yet I will stay by Him, and wait for a better answer, 
 
 and I know I shall obtain it : this assurance being given me 
 
 for my comfort, that whosoever believes in him shall not be 
 
 ashamed.
 
 224 A COMMENTAUY UPON 
 
 Ver. 7. Unto you, therefore, which believe, he is precious ; but unto them 
 
 who be disobedient, the stone which the builders disallowed, the same 
 
 is made the head of the corner; 
 Ver, 8, And a stone of stumblint;; and a rock of offence, even to them 
 
 which stumble at the word, being disobedient, whereunto also they 
 
 were appointed. 
 
 Besides all the opposition that meets faith within, in our 
 liearts, it hath this without, that it rows against the great 
 stream of the world's opinion ; and therefore liath need, 
 especially where it is very tender and weak, to be strengthened 
 against that. The multitude of unbelievers, and the consider- 
 able quality of many of them in the world, are continuing 
 causes of that very multitude; and the fewness of them that 
 truly believe doth much to the keeping of them still few. And 
 as this prejudice prevails with them that believe not, so it may 
 sometimes assault the mind of a believer, Avhen he thinks how 
 many, and many of them wise men in the world, reject Christ. 
 Whence can this be .'* Particularly the believing Jews, to whom 
 this Epistle is addressed, might think it strange, that not only 
 the Gentiles who were strangers to true religion, but their own 
 nation, that was the select people of God, and had the light of 
 His oracles kept in amongst them only, should yet, so many of 
 them, yea, and the chief of them, be despisers and haters of 
 Jesus Christ ; and that they who were best versed in the Law, 
 and so seemed best able to judge of the Messiah foretold, should 
 have persecuted Christ all his life, and at last put him to a 
 shameful death. 
 
 That they may know that this makes nothing against Ilim, 
 nor ouffht to invahdate their faitli at all, but that it rather 
 indeed testifies with Christ, and so serves to coniirm them in 
 believing, the Apostle makes use of those prophetical Scriptures, 
 which foretel the unbelief and contempt with which the most 
 would entertain Christ withal ; as old Simeon speaks of liim, 
 ■when lie was come, agreeably to those former predictions, that 
 he should be a sijn of conlradiclijii, (Luke ii. l4) that, as lie
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEH. 225 
 
 was the promised sign of salvation to believers, so he should 
 be a very mark of enmities and contradictions to the unbeliev- 
 ing world. The passages the Apostle here useth, suit with his 
 present discourse, and with the words cited from Isaiah in the 
 former verse, continuing the resemblance of a corner-stone : 
 they are taken partly from the one hundred and eighteenth 
 Psalm, partly out of the eighth chapter of Isaiali. 
 
 Unto you, &c.] Wonder not that others refuse Him, but 
 believe the more for that, because you see the word to be true 
 even in their not believing of it ; it is fulfilled and verified by 
 their very rejecting of it as false. 
 
 And whatsoever are the world's thoughts concerning Christ, 
 that imports not, for they know him not ; but you that do in- 
 deed believe, I dare appeal to yourselves, to your own faith 
 that you have of him, whether he is not precious to you, whe- 
 ther you do not really find him fully answerable to all that is 
 spoken of him in the word, and to all that you have accord- 
 ingly beheved concerning him. 
 
 We are here to consider, I. The opposition of the persons : 
 and then, II. The opposition of the things spoken of them. 
 
 I. The persons are opposed under the names of believers, 
 and disobedient or unbelievers ; for the word is so near, that 
 it may be taken for unbelief, and it is by some so rendered : 
 and the things are fully as near to each other as the words that 
 signify them — disobedience and unbelief. 
 
 1. Unbelief is itself the grand disobedience. For this is the 
 work of God, that which the Gospel mainly commands, that 
 ye believe (John vi. 29) ; therefore the apostle calls it the obe- 
 dience of faith (Rom. i. 5). And there is nothing indeed 
 more worthy of the name of obedience, than the subjection of 
 the mind to receive and to believe those supernatural truths 
 which the Gospel teaches concerning Jesus Christ ; to ohey, 
 so as to have, as the Apostle speaks, the impression of that 
 Divine pattern stamped upon the heart ; to have the heart de- 
 livered up, as the word there is, and laid under it to receive it 
 (Rom. vi. 17.) The word here used for disobedience, signifies 
 
 Vol. I. Q
 
 22G A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 properly unpersuasion ; and nothing can more properly ex- 
 press the nature of unbelief than that; and it is the very 
 nature of our corrupt hearts ; we are children of disobedience 
 or vnjjermasibleness, (Ephes. ii. 2,) altogether incredulous to- 
 wards God, who is Truth itself, and pliable as wax in Satan's 
 hand, who works in such persons what he will, as there the 
 Apostle expresses. They are most easy of belief to him, who 
 is the very father of lies, as our Saviour calls him, (John 
 viii. 44,) a liar and a murderer from the beginning, murdering 
 by lies, as he did in the beginning. 
 
 2. Unbelief is radically all other disobedience ; for all flows 
 from unbelief. This we least of all are ready to suspect, but 
 it is the bitter root of all that ungodliness that abounds 
 amongst us. A right and lively persuasion of the heart con- 
 cerning Jesus Christ, alters the whole frame of it, casts down 
 its liigh, lofty imaginations^ and brings, not only the outward 
 actions, but the very thoughts unto the obedience of Christ. 
 (2 Cor. X. 5.) 
 
 II. As for the things spoken concerning these disobedient 
 unbelievers, these two testimonies, taken together, have in 
 them these three things: 1. Their rejection of Christ; 2. Their 
 folly ; 3. Their misery in so doing. 
 
 1. Their rejection of Christ: they did not receive him, as 
 the Father appointed and designed him, as the Foundation 
 and chief corner-stone, but slighted him, and threw him by, 
 as unfit for the building ; and this did not only the ignorant 
 multitude, but the builders, they that professed to have the 
 skill and the office, or power, of building, the doctors of the 
 law, the scribes and pharisees, and chief priests, who thought 
 to carry the matter by the weight of their authority, as over- 
 balancing the belief of those that followed Christ. Have any 
 (f the rulers believed in him ! But this people who know not 
 the law, are cursed. (John vii. 48, 49.) 
 
 We need not wonder, then, that not only the powers of the 
 world are usually enemies to Christ, and that the contrivers of 
 policies those builders, leave out Christ in their buildhig, but
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 227 
 
 tliat the pretended builders of the Church of God, though 
 they use the name of Christ, and serve their turn with that, 
 yet reject Himself, and oppose the power of his spiritual king- 
 dom. There may be wit and learning, and much knowledge 
 of tlie Scriptures, amongst those that are haters of the Lord 
 Christ and of the power of godliness, and corrupters of the 
 worship of God. It is the spirit of humility and obedience, 
 and saving faith, that teach men to esteem Christ, and build 
 upon him. 
 
 2. But the vanity and folly of those Builders' opinion ap- 
 pears in this, that they are overpowered by the great Architect 
 of the Church : His purpose stands. Notwithstanding their 
 rejection of Christ, he is still made the head corner-stone. 
 They cast him away by their miscensures and reproaches put 
 upon him, and by giving him up to be crucified and then cast 
 into the grave^ causing a stone to be rolled upon this Stone 
 which they had so rejected, that it might appear no more, and 
 so thought themselves sure. But even from thence did he 
 arise, and became the head of the corner. The disciples 
 themselves spake, you know, very doubtfully of their former 
 hopes : IVe believed this had been he that ivoidd have de- 
 livered Israel; but he corrected their mistake, first by his 
 word, shewing them the true method of that great work. 
 Ought not Christ to suffer first these things, and so enter 
 into glory ? and then really, by making himself known to 
 them as risen from the dead. When he was by these 
 rejected, and lay lowest, then was he nearest his exaltation ; 
 as Joseph in the prison was nearest his preferment. And 
 thus is it with the Church of Christ : when it is brought to 
 the lowest and most desperate condition, then is deliverance at 
 hand -, it prospers and gains in the event, by all the practices 
 of men against it. And as this Corner-stone was fitted to be 
 such, by the very rejection of it, even so is it with the whole 
 building ; it rises the higher, the more men seek to demo- 
 lish it. 
 
 3. The unhappiness of them that believe not is expressed in 
 
 Q2
 
 oog A co:mmentary uroN" 
 
 the other word, He is to ihem a ftfone of stnmhUmj, and a rock 
 of o fence. Because they will not be saved by him, they shall 
 stumble and fall, and be broken to pieces on him, as it is in 
 Isaiah, and in the Evangelists. But how is this? Is He who 
 came to save, become a destroyer of men ? He whose name is 
 Salvation, proves He destruction to any ? Not He himself: 
 His primary and proper use is the former, to be a foundation 
 for souls to build and rest upon ; but they who, instead of 
 building upon him, will stumble and fall on him, what wonder, 
 being so firm a stone, though they be broken by their fall ! 
 Thus we see the mischief of unbelief, that as other sins disable 
 the Law, this disables the very Gospel to save us, and turns 
 life into death to us. And this is the misery, not of a few, 
 but of many in Israel. IVIany that hear of Christ by the 
 preaching of the Gospel, shall lament that ever they heard 
 that sound, and shall wish to have lived and died without it, 
 finding so great an accession to their misery, by the nerjlect of 
 so great salvation. They are said to stumble at the ivorcl^ 
 because the things that are therein testified concerning Christ, 
 they labour not to understand and prize aright ; but either 
 altogether slight them, and account them foolishness, or miscon- 
 ceive and pervert them. 
 
 The Jews stumbled at the meanness of Christ's birth and 
 life, and the Ignominy of his death, not judging of him according 
 to the Scriptures; and we, in another way, think we have some 
 kind of belief that he is the Saviour of the world, yet, not 
 making the Scripture the rule of our thoughts concerning him, 
 many of us undo ourselves, and stumble and break our necks 
 upon this rock, mistaking Christ and the Avay of believing ; 
 looking on him as a Saviour at large, and judging that enough ; 
 not endeavouring to make him ours, and to embrace him upon 
 the terms of that new covenant whereof he is Mediator. 
 
 JVhrreiinto also they ivere appointed.^ This the Apostle 
 adds, for the further satisfaction of believers in this point, how 
 it is that so many reject Christ, and stumble at him ; telling 
 them plainly, that the secret purpose of God is accomplished
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 229 
 
 in this. God having determined to glorify his justice on impe- 
 nitent sinners, as He shews His rich mercy in them that believe. 
 Here it were easier to lead you into a deep, than to lead you 
 forth again. I will rather stand on the shore, and silently 
 admire it, than enter into it. This is certain, that the thoughts 
 of God are all not less just in themselves, than deep and 
 unsoundable by us. His justice appears clear, in that man's 
 destruction is always the fruit of his own sin. But to give 
 causes of God's decrees without Himself, is neither agi'eeable 
 with the primitive being of the nature of God, nor with the 
 doctrine of the Scriptures. This is sure, that God is not 
 bound to give us further account of these things, and we are 
 bound not to ask it. Let these two words, as St. Augustine 
 says, answer all, What art thou, O man? and, O the depth I 
 (Rom.ix. 20; xi. 33.) 
 
 Our only sure way to know that our names are not in that 
 black line, and to be persuaded that He hath chosen us to be 
 saved by His Son, is this, to find that we have chosen Him, and 
 are built on Him by faith, which is the fruit of His love, who 
 first chooseth us ; and that we may read in our esteem of 
 Him. 
 
 He is precious.'] Or, your honour. The difference is small. 
 You account him your glory and your gain ; he is not only 
 precious to you, but preciousness itself. He is the thing that 
 you make account of, your jewel, which if you keep, though 
 you be robbed of all besides, you know yourselves to be rich 
 enough . 
 
 To you that helieve.] Faith is absolutely necessary to make 
 this due estimate of Christ. 
 
 1. The most excellent things, while their worth is undiscerned 
 and unknown, aifect us not. Now, Faith is the proper seeing 
 faculty of the soul, in relation to Christ : that inward light 
 must be infused from above, to make Christ visible to us ; 
 without it, though he is beautiful, yet we are blind; and there- 
 fore cannot love him for that beauty. But by Faith, we are 
 enabled to see Him who is fairer than the children of men.
 
 230 A COMMENTAEY UPON 
 
 (Psal. xlv. 2,) yea, to see in Him, the ylory of the only begotten 
 Son of God, (John i. 14 ;) and then it is not possible but to 
 account him prccioust, and to bestow the entire affection of our 
 hearts upon him. And if any one say to the soul, IVhat is thy 
 beloved more than another ? (Cant. iii. 9,) it willingly lays 
 hold on the question, and is glad of an opportunity to extol 
 Him. 
 
 S. Faith, as it is that which discerns Christ, so it alone 
 appropriates him, makes him our own. And these are the two 
 , reasons of our esteeming and affecting any thing, its own worth, 
 and our interest in it. Faith begets this esteem of Christ by 
 both : first it discovers to us His excellencies, which we could 
 not see before ; and then, it makes Him ours, gives us posses- 
 sion of whole Christ, all that He hath and is. As it is Faith 
 that commends Christ so much, and describes His comeliness 
 in that Song, so that word is the voice of Faith, that expresses 
 propriety. My well-beloved is mine, and I am His. (Cant. ii. 
 16.) And these together make Him most precious to the soul. 
 Having once possession of Him, then it looks upon all his suf- 
 ferings as endured particularly for it, and the benefit of them 
 all as belonging to itself. Sure, it will say, can I choose but 
 account Him precious, who suffered shame that I might not 
 be ashamed, and suffered death that I might not die ; who 
 took that bitter cup of the Father"'s wrath, and drank it out, 
 that I might be free from it. 
 
 Think not that 3^oa believe, if your hearts be not taken up 
 with Christ, if his love do not possess your soul, so that nothing 
 is precious to you in respect of him ; if you cannot despise and 
 trample upon all advantages that either you have or would 
 have, for Christ, and count them, with the great Apostle, loss 
 and dumj in comparison of Him, (Phil. iii. 8.) And if you do 
 esteem Him, labour for increase of faith, that you may esteem 
 Him more ; for as faith grows, so will He still be more precious 
 to you. And if you would have it grow, turn that spiritual 
 eye frequently to Him, wlio is the proper object of it. For 
 even they who arc believers may possibly abate of their love
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF TETER. 231 
 
 and esteem of Christ, by suffering faith to He dead within 
 them, and not using it in beholding and applying of Christ; 
 and the world, or some particular vanities, may insensibly 
 creep in, and get into the heart, and cost them much pains ere 
 they can be thrust out again. But when they are daily reviewing 
 those excellencies that are in Christ, which first persuaded their 
 hearts to love Jlim, and are discovering still more and more of 
 them, His love will certainly grow, and will chase away those 
 follies that the world doats upon, as unworthy to be taken 
 notice of. 
 
 Ver, 9. But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy 
 nation, a pecuHar people, that ye should shew forth the praises of 
 Him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvellous light. 
 
 It is a matter of very much consolation and instruction to 
 Christians to know their own estate, what they are as they are 
 Christians. This Epistle is much and often upon this point 
 for both those ends ; that the reflecting upon their dignities in 
 Christ may uphold them with comfort under suffering for 
 Him ; and also that it may lead them in doing and walking as 
 becomes such a condition. Here it hath been represented to us 
 by a building, a spiritual temple, and by a priesthood con- 
 formable to it. 
 
 The former is confirmed and illustrated by testimonies of 
 Scripture in the preceding verses ; the latter in this verse, in 
 which, though it is not expressly cited, yet it is clear that the 
 Apostle hath reference to Exod. xix. 5, 6, where this dignity 
 of priesthood, together with the other titles here expressed, is 
 ascribed to all the chosen people of God. It is there a promise 
 made to the nation of the Jews, but under the condition of 
 obedience ; and therefore it is most fitly here applied by the 
 Apostle to the believing Jews, to whom particularly he writes. 
 
 It is true, that the external priesthood of the Law is 
 abohshed by the coming of this great High Priest, Jesus 
 Christ being the body of all those shadows ; but this promised 
 dignity of spiritual priesthood is so far from being annulled by
 
 232 A COMMENTARY TTPON 
 
 Christ, that it is altogether dependent on him, and therefore 
 fails in those that reject Christ, although they be of that nation 
 to \vhich this promise was made. But it holds good in all, of 
 all nations, that believe, and particularly, says the Apostle, it 
 is verified in you. You that arc believing Jews, by receiving 
 Christ, receive withal this dignity. 
 
 As the Legal priesthood was removed by Christ's fulfilling 
 all that is prefigured, so he was rejected by them that were, at 
 his coming, in possession of that office : as the standing of that 
 their priesthood was inconsistent with the revealing of Jesus 
 Christ, so they who were then in it, being ungodly men, their 
 carnal minds had a kind of antipathy against him. Though 
 they pretended themselves builders of the Church, and by 
 their calling ought to have been so, yet they threw away the 
 Foundation-stone that God had chosen and designed, and in 
 rejecting it, manifested that they themselves were rejected of 
 God. But on the contrary, you who have laid your souls on 
 Christ by believing, have this your choosing him as a certain 
 evidence that God hath chosen you to be his peculiar people, 
 yea, to be so dignified as to be a kingly lyrienthood, through 
 Christ. 
 
 We have here to consider, 1. The estate of Christians, in 
 the words tliat here describe it ; 2. The opposition of it to the 
 state of unbelievers ; 3. The end of it. 
 
 First. The state of Christians, A chosen (jeneration. So 
 in Psalm xxiv. The Psalmist there speaks first of God's 
 universal sovereignty, then of His peculiar choice. The 
 earth is (he Lord's, {verse 1,) but there is a select company 
 appointed for His holy mountain, there desci'ibed ; and the 
 description is closed thus, This is the (feneration of them that 
 seek hlin. Thus, Deut. x. 14, 15, and Exod. xix. 5, whence 
 this passage is taken. For all the earth is mine, and that nation 
 which is a figure of the elect of all nations, God's j^^culiaVj 
 beyond all others in the world. As men who have great 
 variety of possessions, yet have usually their special delight in 
 some one beyond all the rest, and choose to reside most in it,
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER, 233 
 
 and bestow most expense on it to make it pleasant ; so doth 
 the Lord of the whole earth choose out to Himself, from the 
 rest of the world, a number that are a chosen (/eneration. 
 
 Choosing, here, is the work of effectual calling, or the 
 severing of believers from the rest ; for it signifies a difference 
 in their present estate, as do likewise the other words joined 
 with it. But this election is altogether conformable to that of 
 God's eternal decree, and is no other than the execution or 
 performance of it ; God's framing of this His building being 
 just according to the idea of it which was in His mind and 
 purpose before all time ; it is the drawing forth and investing 
 of those into this Christian, this kingly priesthood, whose 
 names were expressly written up for it in the book of life. 
 
 Generation.'] This imports them to be of one race or stock. 
 As the Israelites, who were by outward calling the children of 
 God^ were all the seed of Abraham according to the flesh ; so 
 they that believe in the Lord Jesus are children of the promise 
 (Gal. iv. 28) ; and all of them are, by their new birth, one 
 people or generation. They are of one nation, belonging to 
 the same blessed land of promise, all citizens of the New 
 Jerusalem, yea, all children of the same family, whereof Jesus 
 Christ, the root of Jesse, is the stock, who is the great King, 
 and the great High Priest. And thus they are a royal lyriest- 
 hood. There is no devolving of His royalty or priesthood on 
 any other, as it is in Himself; for His proper dignity is 
 supreme and incommunicable, and there is no succession in 
 His order : He lives for ever, and is priest for ever, (Psal. ex. 
 4,) and king for ever too, (Psal. xlv. 6.) But they that are 
 descended from Him, do derive from Him, by that new original, 
 this double dignity, in that way that they are capable of it, to 
 be likewise kings and priests, as He is both. They are of the 
 seed royal, and of the holy seed of the priesthood, inasmuch as 
 they partake of a new life from Christ. Thus, in Bev. i. 5, 6, 
 first, there is His own dignity expressed, then his dignifying 
 us : Who is Himself the first-begotten among the dead, and the
 
 234 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 prince of the kings of the earth ; and then it follows, And hath 
 made \is kings and jjriests unto God and his Father. 
 
 A royal priesthood. "^ That the dignity of believers is expressed 
 by these two together, by priesthood and royalty, teaches us 
 the worth and excellency of that holy function taken properly, 
 and so, by analogy, the dignity of the Ministry of the Gospel, 
 which God hath placed in his Church, instead of the Priest- 
 hood of the Law ; for therefore doth this title of spiritual 
 priesthood fitly signify a great privilege and honour that 
 Christians are promoted to, and it is joined with that of kings, 
 because the proper office of priesthood was so honourable. 
 Before it was established in one family, the chief, the first-born 
 of each family, had a right to this, as a special honour ; and 
 amongst the heathens, in some places, their princes and greatest 
 men, yea, their kings, were their priests ; and universally, the 
 performing of their holy things was an employment of great 
 honour and esteem amongst them. Though human ambition 
 hath strained this consideration too high, to the favouring and 
 founding of a monarchical prelacy in the Christian world, yet 
 that abuse of it ought not to prejudge us of this due and just 
 consequence from it, that the holy functions of God's house 
 have very much honour and dignity in them. And the Apostle, 
 we see, (2 Cor. iii.) prefers the ministry of the Gospel to the 
 priesthood of the Law. So then, they mistake much, who 
 think it a disparagement to men that have some advantages of 
 birth or wit more than ordinary, to bestow them thus, and who 
 judge the meanest persons and things good enough for this 
 high calling. Surely this conceit cannot have place, but in an 
 unholy, irreligious mind, that hath either no thoughts, or very 
 mean thoughts of God. If they who are called to this holy 
 service would themselves consider this aright, it Mould not 
 puff them up, but humble them : comparing their own worth- 
 lessness with this great work, they would wonder at God's 
 dispensation, that should thus have honoured them. As 
 St. Paul speaks of himself, (Ephes. iii. 8,) Unto me, who am
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 
 
 less than the least of all saints, is this (jrace given, &c., so, 
 tlie more a man rightly extols this his calling, the more he 
 humbles himself under the weight of it ; and this would make 
 him very careful to walk more suitably to it in eminency of 
 holiness, for in that consists its true dignity. 
 
 There is no doubt that this Kingly Priesthood is the common 
 dignity of all believers : this honour have all the saints. They 
 are kings, have victory and dominion given them over the 
 powers of darkness and the lusts of their own hearts, that held 
 them captive, and domineered over them before. Base, slavish 
 lusts, not born to command, yet are the hard taskmasters of 
 unrenewed minds ; and there is no true subduing of them, but 
 by the power and Spirit of Christ. They may be quiet for 
 awhile in a natural man, but they are then but asleep ; as soon 
 as they awake again, they return, to hurry and drive him with 
 their wonted violence. Now this is the benefit of receiving the 
 kingdom of Christ into a man's heart, that it makes him a king 
 himself. All the subjects of Christ are kings, not only in 
 regard of that pure crown of glory they hope for, and shall 
 certainly attain, but in the present, they have a kingdom 
 which is the pledge of that other, overcoming the World, and 
 Satan, and themselves, by the power of faith. Mens bona 
 regmim possidet, A good mind is a kingdom in itself, it is 
 true ; but there is no mind truly good, but that wherein Christ 
 dwells. There is not any kind of spirit in the world so noble 
 as that spirit that is in a Christian, the very Spirit of Jesus 
 Christ, that great king, the Spirit of glory, as our Apostle 
 calls it below, (ch. iv). This is a sure way to ennoble the basest 
 and poorest among us. This royalty takes away all attainders, 
 and leaves nothing of all that is past to be laid to our charge, 
 or to dishonour us. 
 
 Believers are not shut out from God, as they were before, 
 but, being in Christ, are brought near unto Him, and have 
 free access to the throne of His grace. (Heb. x. 21, 22.) They 
 resemble, in their spiritual state, the Legal priesthood very
 
 236 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 clearly, I. In their Consecration ; II. In their Service ; and, 
 III. In their Laws of Living. 
 
 I. In their Consecration. The levitlcal priests were, 
 1. washed ; therefore this is expressed, (Rev. i. 5,) He hath 
 irashed vs in his blond, and then follows, and hath made us 
 kiiKjs and jirieats. There would have been no coming near 
 unto God in his holy services as his priests, unless we had been 
 cleansed from the guiltiness and pollution of our sins. This 
 that pure and purifying Blood doth ; and it alone. No other 
 laver can do it ; no water but thai fountain opened for sin and 
 for 2incleanness. (Zech. xiii. 1.) No blood, none of all that 
 blood of Legal sacrifices, (Heb. ix. 12,) but only the blood of 
 that spotless Lamb that fakes avcay the sins of the world. (John 
 i. 29.) So with this, 2. we have that other ceremony of the 
 priest's consecration, which was by sacrifice, as well as by 
 washing ; for Christ at once offered up himself as our sacrifice, 
 and let out his blood for our washinf^. With good reason is 
 that prefixed there, (Rev. i. 5,) He hath loved us, and then it 
 follows, washed us in his blood. That precious stream of his 
 heart-blood, that flowed for our washing, told clearly that it 
 was a heart full of unspeakable love that was the source of it. 
 3. There is anointing, namely, the graces of the Spirit, con- 
 ferred upon believers, flowing unto them from Christ. For it 
 is of His fulness that ive all receive grace for grace ; (John i. 
 IC ;) and the Apostle St. Paul says, (2 Cor. i. 16,) that ive 
 are established and anointed in Christ. It was poured on 
 Him as our head, and runs down from Him unto us ; He the 
 Christ, and we Christians, as partakers of his anointing. The 
 consecrating oil of the priests was made of the richest oint- 
 ments and spites, to shew the preciousness of the graces of 
 God's Spirit which are bestowed on these spiritual priests ; 
 and as that holy oil was not for common use, nor for any other 
 persons to be anointed withal, save the priests only, so is the 
 Spirit of grace a})eculiar gift to believers. Others might have 
 costly ointments amongst the Jews, but none of that same sort
 
 THE l-'IRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 237 
 
 with the consecration-oil. Natural men may have very great 
 gifts of judgment, and learning, and eloquence, and moral 
 virtues, but they have none of this precious oil, namely, the 
 Spirit of Christ connnunicated to them ; no, all their endow- 
 ments are but common and profane. That holy oil signified 
 particularly, eminency of light and knowledge in the priests ; 
 therefore, in Christians there must be light. They that are 
 grossly ignorant of spiritual things are surely not of this order ; 
 this anointing is said to teach us all thhujs (1 John ii. 27) . That 
 holy oil was of a most fragrant sweet smell, by reason of its 
 precious composition ; but much more sweet is the smell of that 
 Spirit wherewith believers are anointed, those several odorife- 
 rous graces, which are the ingredients of their anointing oil, 
 that heavenly-minded ness, and meekness, and patience, and 
 humility, and the rest, that diffuse a pleasant scent into the 
 places and societies where they come ; their words, their ac- 
 tions, and their deportment, smelling sweet of them. 4. The 
 garments wherein the priests were inaugurate, and which they 
 were after to wear in their services, are outshined by that purity 
 and holiness wherewith all the Saints are adorned ; but still 
 more by that imputed righteousness of Christ, those pure robes 
 that are put upon them, wherein they appear before the Lord, 
 and are accepted in His sight. These priests are indeed clothed 
 with righteousness, according to that of the Psalmist (Psal. 
 cxxxii. 9). 5. The priests were to have the offerings put into 
 their hands; from thence, filling of the hand signifies conse- 
 crating to the priesthood. And thus doth Jesus Christ, who is 
 the consecrator of these priests, put into their hands, by his 
 Spirit, the offerings they are to present unto God. He furnishes 
 them with prayers, and praises, and all other oblations, that 
 are to be offered by them ; he gives them themselves, which 
 they are to offer a living sacrifice, rescuing them from the usurped 
 possession of Satan and sin. 
 
 II. Let us consider their Services, which were divers. To 
 name the chief, 1. They had charge of the sanctuary, and the 
 vessels of it, and the lights, and were to keep the lamps burning.
 
 238 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Thus the licart of every Christian is made a temple to the Holy 
 Ghost, and he himself, as a priest consecrated unto God, is to 
 kccj) it diligently, and the furniture of Divine Grace in it ; to 
 have the light of spiritual knowledge within him, and to nou- 
 rish it by drawing continually new supplies from Jesus Christ. 
 2. The priests were to bless the people. And truly it is this 
 spiritual priesthood, the Elect, that procure blessings upon the 
 rest of the world, and particularly on the places where they live. 
 They are daily to offer the incense of prayer, and other spiritual 
 sacrifices unto God, as the Apostle expresseth it above, (verse 
 5,) not to neglect those holy exercises together or apart. And 
 as the priests offered it not only for themselves, but for the 
 people, so Christians are to extend their prayers, and to entreat 
 the blessings of God for others, especially for the public estate 
 of the Church. As the Lord's priests, they are to offer up 
 those praises to God, that are His due from the other creatures, 
 which praise Him indeed, yet cannot do it after the manner in 
 which these priests do ; therefore they are to offer as it were 
 their sacrifices for them, as the priests did for the people. And 
 because the most of men neglect to do this, and cannot do it 
 indeed because they are unholy, and are not of this priesthood, 
 therefore should they be so much the more careful of it, and 
 diligent in it. How few of those, whom the Heavens call to 
 by their light and revolution that they enjoy, do offer that 
 sacrifice which becomes them, by acknowledging the glory of 
 God ivhich the Heavens declare! This, therefore, is as it 
 were put into the hands of these priests, namely, the godly, 
 to do. 
 
 III. Let us consider their course of life. We shall find 
 rules given to the legal priests, stricter than to others, of avoid- 
 ing legal pollutions, &c. And from these this s])i ritual priest- 
 hood must learn an exact, holy conversation, keeping themselves 
 from the pollutions of the world ; as here it follows : A holy 
 nalioii, and that of necessity ; if a priesthood, then holy. They 
 are ])urchased indeed to be a peculiar treasure to God, (Exod. 
 xix. 5,) j)urchabed at a very high rate. He spared not His
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEIl. 239 
 
 only Son, nor did the Son spare himself: so that these priests 
 ought to be the Lord's peculiar portion. All believers are His 
 clergy ; and as they are His portion, so He is theirs. The 
 priests had no assigned inheritance among their brethren, and 
 the reason is added, for the Lord is their portion ; and truly 
 so they needed not envy any of the rest, they had the choicest 
 of all, the Lord of all. Whatsoever a Christian possesses in 
 the world, yet, being of this spiritual priesthood, he is as if he 
 possessed it not, (1 Cor. vii. 30,) lays little account on it. That 
 which his mind is set upon, is, how he may enjoy God, and 
 find clear assurance that he hath Him for his portion. 
 
 It is not so mean a thing to be a Christian as we think ; it 
 is a holy, an honourable, a happy state. Few of us can esteem 
 it, or do labour to find it so. No, we know not these things, 
 our hearts are not on them, to make this dignity and happiness 
 sure to our souls. Where is that true greatness of mind, and 
 that holiness to be found, that become those who are kings and 
 priests unto God ? that contempt of earthly things, and minding 
 of Heaven that should be in such ? But surely, as many 
 as find themselves indeed partakers of these dignities, will 
 study to live agreeably to them, and will not fail to love 
 that Lord Jesus who hath purchased all this for them, and 
 exalted them to it; yea, humbled himself to exalt them. 
 
 Now, as to the Opposition of the estate of Christians to that 
 of unbelievers. We best discern, and are most sensible of the 
 evil or good of things by comparison. In respect of outward 
 condition, how many be there that are vexing themselves with 
 causeless murmurings and discontents, who, if they would look 
 upon the many in the world that are in a far meaner condition 
 than they, would be cured of that evil ! It would make them 
 not only content, but cheerful and thankful. But the difference 
 here expressed, is far greater and more considerable than any 
 that can be in outward things. Thouo-h the estate of a Chris- 
 tian is very excellent and precious, and, when rightly valued, 
 hath enough in itself to commend it, yet it doth and ought to 
 raise our esteem of it the higher, when we compare it both with
 
 240 A COMMEXTARY UPON 
 
 the misery of our former condition, and witli the continuing 
 misery of those that abide still, and are left to perish in that 
 woful estate. We have here both these parallels. The hap- 
 piness and dignity to which they are chosen and called, is 
 opposed to the rejection and misery of them that continue 
 unbelievers and rejecters of Christ. 
 
 Not only natural men, but even they that have a spiritual life 
 in them, when they forget themselves, are subject to look upon 
 the things that are before them with a natural eye, and to think 
 hardly, or at least doubtfully, concerning of God's dispensa- 
 tions, beholding the flourishing and prosperities of the ungodly, 
 together with their own sufferings and distresses. Thus, Psal. 
 Ixxxiii. But when they turn the other side of the medal, and 
 view them with a right eye, and by a true light, they are no 
 longer abused with those appearances. When they consider 
 unbelievers as sfmngprfi, yea, enejiiies to God, and slaves to 
 Satan, held fast in the chains of their own impenitency and 
 unbelief, and by these bound over to eternal death, and then 
 see themselves called to the liberties and dignities of the Sons 
 of God, partakers of the honour of the only-begotten Son, on 
 whom they have believed, made by him kitujs- and priests unto 
 God the Father, then, surely, they have other thoughts. It 
 makes them no more envy, but pity the ungodly, and account 
 all their pomp, and all their possessions, what they are in- 
 deed, no other than a glistening misery, and account themselves 
 happy in all estates. It makes them say with David, llie lines 
 have fallen to me in a pleasant pi ace ^ I have a (joodly heritage. 
 It makes them digest all their sufferings and disgraces with 
 patience, yea, with joy, and think more of ])raising than com- 
 plaining, more of shewing forth His honour who hath so ho- 
 noured them ; especially, when they consider the freencss of 
 His grace, that it was that alone which made the difference, 
 calling them altogether undeservedly from that same darkness 
 and niistTv in which unbelievers arc deservedly left. 
 
 Now the Third thing here to be spoken to, is, the End of their 
 calling, to shew furth his jyt'aiac, &c. And that we may the
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 241 
 
 more prize the reasonableness of that happy estate to which 
 God hath exalted them, it is expressed in other terms ; which 
 therefore we will first consider, and then the end. 
 
 To magnify the grace of God the more, we have here, 1. 
 Both the terms of this motion or change, — from ichonce and to 
 what it is ; 2. The principle of it, the calling of God. 
 
 1. For the terms of this motion : From darkness. There 
 is nothing more usual, not only in Divine, but in human 
 writings, than to borrow outward sensible things to express 
 things intellectual ; and amongst such expressions there is 
 none more frequent than that of light and darkness trans- 
 ferred, to signify the good and the evil estate of man, as 
 sometimes for his outward prosperity or adversity, but espe- 
 cially for things proper to his mind. The mind is called 
 light, because the seat of truth, and truth is most fitly 
 called light, being the chief beauty and ornament of the 
 rational world, as light is of the visible. And as the hght, 
 because of that its beauty, is a thing very refreshing and com- 
 fortable to them that behold it, (as Solomon says. It is a plea- 
 sant thing to see the sun,) so is truth a most delightful thing to 
 the soul that rightly apprehends it. 
 
 This may help us to conceive of the spiritual sense in which 
 it is here taken. The estate of lost mankind is indeed nothing 
 but darkness, being destitute of all spiritual truth and comfort, 
 and tending to utter and everlasting darkness. 
 
 And it is so, because by sin the soul is separate from God, 
 •who is the first and highest light, the primitive truth. As 
 he is light in himself, (as the Apostle St. John tells us, God 
 is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all, expressing the 
 excellency and purity of his nature,) so He is light relatively 
 to the soul of man : The Lord is my light, says David 
 (Psalm xxvii. 1). 
 
 And the soul being made capable of Divine light, cannot be 
 happy without it. Give it what other light you will, still it is 
 in darkness, so long as it is without God, he being the peculiar 
 
 Vol. I. R
 
 242 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 light and life of the soul. And as truth is united with the 
 soul in apprehending it, and light with the visive faculty, so, 
 in order that the soul may have God as its light, it must of 
 necessity be in union Avith God. Now sin hath broken that 
 union, and so cut off the soul from its light, and plunged it 
 into spiritual darkness. 
 
 Hence all that confusion and disorder in the soul, which is 
 ever the companion of darkness : — Tohu vabohu, as it was at 
 first, when darkness was on the face of the deep (Gen. i. 2). 
 Being ignorant of God and of ourselves, it follows that we love 
 not God, because we know him not ; yea, (though we think it 
 a hard word,) we are haters of God ; for not only doth our 
 darkness import ignorance of Him, but an enmity to Him, be- 
 cause He is light, and we are darkness. And being ignorant of 
 ourselves, not seeing our own vileness, because we are in the 
 dark, we are pleased with ourselves, and having left God, do 
 love ourselves instead of God. Hence arise all the wickednesses 
 of our hearts and lives, which are no other than, instead of 
 obeying and pleasing God, a continual sacrificing to those Gil- 
 lidim, those base dunghill-gods, our own lusts. For this, the 
 Apostle Paul gives as the root of all evil dispositions (2 Tim. 
 iii. 2) ; because, in the first place, lovers of themselves, therefore 
 covetous, boasters, proud, &c., and lovers of pleasures more 
 than of God. And this self-love cannot subsist without gross 
 ignorance, by which our minds are so darkened, that we cannot 
 withal see what we are ; for if we did, it were not possible 
 but we should be far of another mind, very far out of loving 
 and liking with ourselves. Thus our souls being filled with 
 darkness, are likewise full of uncleanness, as that goes along 
 too with darkness; they are not only dark as dungeons, but 
 withal filthy as dungeons use to be. So, (Ephes. iv. 18,) f/n- 
 derstandimjs darkened, alienated from the life <f God ; and 
 therefore, (it is added, ver. 19,) they give themselves over unto 
 lascivious aess, to ivork all undeanncss ivifh greediness. Again, 
 in this state they have no light of solid comfort. Our great
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OP PETER, 343 
 
 comfort here is not in any thing present, but in hope ; now, 
 being without Christ, and without God, we are without hope. 
 (Eph. ii. 12.) 
 
 And as the estate from whence we are called by grace is 
 worthily called darkness, so that to which it calls us, deserves as 
 well the name of light. Christ, likewise, who came to work our 
 deliverance, is frequently so called in Scripture ; as John i. 9, 
 That ivas the true light, and elsewhere ; not only in regard of 
 his own nature, being God equal with the Father, and therefore 
 lights as he is God of God, and therefore Light of Light ; but 
 relatively to men, as John i. 4, That life was the light of men. 
 So, he is styled The Word, and the Wisdom of the Father, not 
 only in regard of his own knowledge, but as revealing Him 
 unto us, (See John i. 18, and 1 Cor. i. 18, compared with 
 V. 30.) And he is styled by Malachi, (ch. iv. 2,) The Sun of 
 Righteousness. Now, the sun is not only a luminous body, 
 but a luminary, giving light unto the world. (Gen. i, 15.) 
 
 He is our light, opposed to all kind of darkness. He is so, 
 in opposition to the dark shadows of the ceremonial law, which 
 possibly are here meant, as part of that darkness from which 
 the Apostle writes that these Jews were delivered also by the 
 knowledge of Christ : when he came, the day broke and the 
 shadows flew away. He is our light, as opposed likewise to 
 the darkness of the Gentile superstitions and idolatries ; there- 
 fore these two are joined by old Simeon, A light to lighten the 
 Gentiles, and the glory of his people Israel (Luke ii. 34). 
 And to all who believe among either, he is light as opposed to 
 the ignorance, slavery, and misery, of their natural estate, 
 teaching them by his spirit the things of God, and reuniting 
 them with God, who is the light of the soul. / am, says he, 
 the light of the world ; he that foUoiveth me shall not ivalk in 
 darkness. (John viii. 12.) 
 
 And it is that mysterious union of the soul -with God in 
 Christ, which a natural man so little understands, that is the 
 cause of all that spiritual light of grace, that a believer does 
 enjoy. There is no right knowledge of God to man once fallen 
 
 R 2
 
 244 A. COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 from it, but in his Son ; no comfort in beholding God, but 
 througli Him ; nothing but just anger and wrath to be seen in 
 God's looks, but through Him, in ichom He is well pleased. 
 The Gospel shews us the light of the knowledge of the Glory of 
 God, but it is in the face of Jesus Christ. (2 Cor. iv. 6.) 
 Therefore, the kingdom of light, as opposed to th'at of dark- 
 ness, is called The kingdom of his dear Son, or, the Son of his 
 love. (Col. i. 13.) 
 
 There is a spirit of light and knowledge flows from Jesus 
 Christ into the souls of believers, that acquaints them with the 
 mysteries of the kingdom of God, which cannot otherwise be 
 known. And this spirit of knowledge is withal a spirit of holi- 
 ness ; for purity and holiness are likewise signified by this light. 
 He removed that huge dark body of siri that was betwixt us 
 and the Father, and eclipsed Him from us. The light of his 
 countenance sandifieth by truth ; it is a light that hath heat 
 with it, and hath influence upon the affections, warms them to- 
 wards God and Divine things. This darkness here is indeed 
 the shadow of death, and they that are without Christ are said, 
 till he visit them, to sit in darkness and in the shadow of death 
 (Luke i. 79) ; so, this Light is life (John i. 4) ; it doth enlighten 
 and enliven, begets new actions and motions in the soul. The 
 right notion that a man hath of things as they are, works upon 
 him, and stirs him accordingly ; thus this light discovers a man 
 to himself, and lets him see his own natural filthiness, makes 
 him loathe himself and fly from himself, — run out of himself. 
 And the excellency ho sees in God and his Son Jesus Christ, 
 by this new light, inflames his heart with their love, fills him- 
 with estimation of the Lord Jesus, and makes the world, and 
 all things in it that he esteemed before, base and mean in his 
 eyes. Then from this light arise spiritual joy and comfort, 
 which are frequently signified by this expression, as in that 
 verse of the Psalmist, (the latter clause expounds the former,) 
 Light is sown for the righteous., and joy for the upright in 
 heart. (Psal. xcvii. 11.) As this kingdom of God's dear Son, 
 that is, this kingdom of light, hath righteousness in it, so it
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OP PETER. 245 
 
 hath peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. (Rom. xiv. 17.) It is a 
 false prejudice the world hath taken up against religion, that 
 it is a sour, melancholy thing ; there is no truly lightsome com- 
 fortable life but it. All others, have they what they will, live 
 in darkness ; and is not that truly sad and comfortless ? Would 
 you think it a pleasant life, though you had fine clothes, and 
 good diet, never to see the sun, but still to be kept in a dungeon 
 with them ? Thus are they who live in worldly honour and 
 plenty, but still without God ; they are in continual darkness, 
 with all their enjoyments. 
 
 It is true the light of believers is not here perfect, and 
 therefore neither is their joy perfect ; it is sometimes over- 
 clouded ; but the comfort is this, that it is an everlasting light, 
 it shall never go out in darkness, as it is said (in Job xviii. 5) 
 the light of the wicked shall; and it shall within awhile be 
 perfected : there is a bright morning without a cloud that shall 
 arise. The Saints have not only light to lead them in their 
 journey, but much purer light at home, an inheritance in light. 
 (Col. i. 12.) The land Avhere their inheritance lieth is full of 
 light, and their inheritance itself is light ; for the vision of God 
 for ever is that inheritance. That city hath no need of the 
 sun, nor of the moon, to shine in it, for the glory of the Lord 
 doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. (Rev, xxi. 
 23.) As we said, that Tncreated Light is the happiness of the 
 soul, the beginnings of it are our happiness begun ; they are 
 beams of it sent from above, to lead us to the fountain and ful- 
 ness of it. With Thee, says David, is the fountain of life, and 
 in Thy light shcdl we see light. (Psal. xxxvi. 9.) 
 
 There are two things spoken of this Light, to commend it — 
 His marvellous light ; that it is after a pecuhar manner God's, 
 and then that it is marvellous. 
 
 All light is from Him, the light is sense, and that of reason ; 
 therefore He is called the Father of lights (Jam. i. 17). But 
 this light of grace is after a peculiar manner His, being a light 
 above the reach of nature, infused into the soul in a superna- 
 tural way, the light of the elect world, where God specially and
 
 24G A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 graciously resides. Natural men may know very much in 
 natural things, and, it may be, may know much in supernatural 
 things, after a natural manner. They may be full of school- 
 divinity, and be able to ditscourse of God and his Son Christ, 
 and the mystery of redemption, ^t., and yet, they want this 
 peculiar light, by which Christ is made known to believers. 
 They may speak of him, but it is in the dark ; they sec him 
 not, and therefore they love him not. The light they have, is 
 as the light of some things that shine only in the night, a cold 
 glow-worm light, that hath no heat with it at all. Whereas a 
 soul that hath some of tJiis light, God"'s peculiar light, com- 
 mimicatcd to it, sees Jesus Christ, and loves and delights in 
 him, and walks with him. A little of this light is worth a great 
 deal, yea, more worth than all that other common, speculative, 
 and discoursing knowledge that the greatest doctors can attain 
 unto. It is of a more excellent kind and original ; it is from 
 Heaven, and you know that one beam of the sun is of more worth 
 than the light of ten thousand torches together. It is a pure, 
 vmdecaying, heavenly light, whereas the other is gross and 
 earthly, (be it never so great,) and lasts but awhile. Let us 
 not therefore think it incredible, that a poor unlettered Chris- 
 tian may know more of God in the best kind of knowledge, than 
 any the wisest and most learned natural man can do ; for the 
 one knows God only by man''s light, the other knows Him by 
 His own light, and that is the only right knowledge. As the 
 sun cannot be seen but by its own light, so neither can God 
 be savingly known, but by His own revealing. 
 
 Now this light being so peculiarly God's, no wonder if it be 
 marvellous. The common light of the world is so, though, 
 because of its commonness, we think not so of it. The Lord 
 is marvellous in wisdom, and in power in all His works of crea- 
 tion and providence ; but above all, in the workings of His 
 grace. This light is unknown to the world, and so marvellous 
 in the rareness of beholding it, that there be but a few that par- 
 take of it. And to them that sec it is marvellous ; because in 
 it they sec so many excellent things that they knew not before :
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. '247 
 
 as if a man were born and brought up till he came to the years 
 of understanding, in a dungeon, wliere he had never seen hght, 
 and were brought forth on a sudden ; or, not to need that ima- 
 gination, take the man that was born blind, at his first sight, 
 after Christ had cured him, — what wonder, think we, would 
 seize upon him, to behold on a sudden the beauty of this visi- 
 ble world, especially of that sun, and that light that makes it 
 both visible and beautiful ! But much more matter of admi- 
 ration is there in this light, to the soul that is brought newly 
 from the darkness of corrupt nature ! Such persons see as it 
 were a new world, and in it such wonders of the rich grace and 
 love of God, such matchless worth in Jesus Christ the Sun of 
 Righteousness, that their souls are filled with admiration. And 
 if this light of grace be so marvellous, how much more marvel- 
 lous shall the light of glory be in which it ends ! 
 
 Hence, 1. Learn to esteem highly of the Gospel, in which 
 this light shines unto us : the Apostle calls it, therefore, The 
 glorious Gospel. (2 Cor. iv. 4.) Surely we have no cause to be 
 ashamed of it, but of ourselves, that we are so unlike it. 
 
 2. Think not, you who are grossly ignorant of God, and his 
 Son Christ, and the mysteries of salvation, that you have any 
 portion as yet in His grace; for the first character of His 
 renewed image in the soul, as it was His first work in the 
 material world, is light. What avails it us to live in the noon- 
 day light of the Gospel, if our hearts be still shut against it, 
 and so within we be nothing but darkness ? — as a house that 
 is close shut up, and hath no entry for light, though it is day 
 without, still it is night vvithin. 
 
 3. Consider your delight in the works of darkness, and be 
 afraid of that great condemnation. This is the condemnation 
 of the world, that light is come into it, and men love darkness 
 rather than light. (John iii. 19.) 
 
 4. You that are indeed partakers of this happy change, let 
 your hearts be habitations of light. Have no felloivship with 
 the unfruitful ivorks of darkness, but rather reprove them. 
 (Eph. v. 11.) Study much to increase in spiritual light and
 
 248 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 knowledge, and withal in holiness and obedience : if your light 
 be tliis light of God, truly spiritual light, these will accompany 
 it. Consider the rich love of God, and account His light 
 marvellous, as in itself, so in this respect, that He hath be- 
 stowed it on you. And seeing you were once darkness, but 
 now are I'ujlit in the Lord, I beseech you, — nay the Apostle, 
 and in him the Spirit of God beseeches you, JVulk as children 
 of the light. (Eph. v. 8.) 
 
 But to proceed to speak to the other parts of this verse, as 
 to the Principle of this change, the calling of God. 
 
 It is known and confessed to be a chief point of wisdom in 
 a man, to consider what he is, from whom he hath his being, 
 and to what end. When a Christian hath thought on this 
 in liis natural being, as he is a man, he hath the same to 
 consider over again of his spiritual being, as he is a Christian, 
 and so a new creature. And in this notion, all the three are 
 very clearly represented to him in these words, 1. What he is, 
 first, by these titles of dignity in the first words of this verse; 
 and again, by an estate of light in the last clause of it. 2. 
 Whence a Christian hath this excellent being, is very clearly 
 expressed here. He hath called you. That God, who is the 
 author of all kind of being, hath given you this, called you 
 from darkness to His marvellous light. If you be a chosen 
 generation, it is He that hath chosen you, (eh. i. 2.) If 
 you be a royal priesthood, you know that it is He tliat hath 
 anointed you. If a holy nation, He hatli sanctified you. 
 (John xvii. 17.) If a peculiar or purchased people, it is He 
 that hath bought you. (1 Cor. vi. 20.) All are included in 
 this calling, and they are all one thing. 3. To what end, — to 
 shew forth His praises. Of the first of these, in all the several 
 expressions of it, we have spoken before ; now are to be con- 
 sidered the other two. 
 
 He hath called ^ou,.] Those who live in the society, and 
 profess the faith of Christians, are called unto light, the light 
 of the Gospel that shines in the Church of God. Now, this is 
 no small favour and privilege, while many people are left in
 
 THE riRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 249 
 
 darhiess and in the shadow of doafh, to have this light arise 
 upon us, find to be in the region of it, the Church, the Goshen 
 of the world ; for by this outward light we are invited to this 
 happy state of saving inward light, and the former is here to 
 be understood as the means of the latter. These Jews who 
 were called to the profession of the Christian faith, to whom 
 our Apostle writes, were even in that respect called unto a 
 light hidden from the rest of their nation, and from many other 
 nations in the world : but because the apostle doth undoubtedly 
 describe here the lively spiritual state of true believers, there- 
 fore this Calling doth further import the effectual work of 
 conversion, making the daylight of salvation, not only without, 
 but within them, the day-star to arise in their hearts, as he 
 speaks, 2 Eph. i. 19. When the sun is arisen, yet if a man 
 be lying fast in a dark prison, and in a deep sleep too, it is 
 not day to him ; he is not called to light, till some one open 
 the doors, and awake him, and bring him forth to it. This 
 God doth, in the calling here meant. That which is here 
 termed Calling, in regard of the way of God's working with 
 the soul, is, in regard of the power of it, called a rescuing and 
 bringing forth of the soul : so the Apostle St. Paul speaks of 
 it (Col. i. ]3) : Delivered from the ])oiver of darkness, and 
 translated to the kingdom of his dear Son. That delivering 
 and translating is this calling ; and it is from the power of 
 darkness, a forcible power, that detains the soul captive. As 
 there are chains of eternal darkness upon damned spirits, which 
 shall never be taken off, wherein they are said to be reserved 
 to the judgment of the great day, so there are chains of 
 spiritual darkness upon the unconverted soul, that can be 
 taken off by no other hand but the powerful hand of God. 
 He calls the sinner to come forth, and withal causes by the 
 power of that His voice, the bolts and fetters to fall off, and 
 enables the soul to come forth into the light. It is an operative 
 word that effects what It bids, as that in the creation, He said, 
 Let there be light, and it teas light, to which the Apostle hath 
 reference, (2 Cor. iv. 6,) when he says, God, who commanded
 
 550 A COMMENTARY UPON, 
 
 the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined into your 
 hearts. God calls man. He works with him indeed as with a 
 reasonable creature, but surely He likewise works as Himself, 
 as an Almighty Creator. He works strongly, and sweetly, 
 with an Almighty easiness. One man may call another to this 
 light, and if there be no more he may call long enough to no 
 purpose ; as they tell of INIahomet's miracle that misgave, — he 
 called a mountain to come to him, but it stirred not. But His 
 call, that shakes and removes the mountains, doth, in a way 
 known to Himself, turn and wind the heart which way He 
 pleaseth. The voice of the Lord is powerful and full of 
 majesty. (Psal. xxix. 4.) If he speaks once to the heart, it 
 cannot choose but follow Him, and yet most willingly chooses 
 that. The workings of grace (as oil, to which it is often 
 compared) do insensibly and silently penetrate, and sink into 
 the soul, and dilate themselves through it. That word of His 
 own calling, disentangles the heart from ail its nets, as it did 
 the disciples from theirs, to follow Christ. That call which 
 brought St. Matthew presently from His receipt of custom, 
 puts off the heart from all its customs, and receipts too ; makes 
 it reject gains and pleasures, and all that hinders it, to go after 
 Christ. And it is a call that touches the soul so as the touch 
 of Elijah's mantle, that made Elisha follow him. Go back, 
 said he, for what have I done unto thee ? Yet he had done 
 so much as made him forsake all to go with him. (1 Kings 
 xix. 20.) And this every believer is most ready to acknowledge, 
 who knows what the rebellion of his heart was, and what his 
 miserable love of darkness was, that the gracious yet mighty 
 call of God was what drew him out of it ; and therefore he 
 willingly assents to that which is the Third thing to be spoken 
 of, that it becomes him, as being the End of his Calling, to shew 
 forth His praise, who hath so mercifully and so powerfully 
 called him, from so miserable, to so happy an estate. 
 
 For 1. This is God's end in calling us, to communicate His 
 goodness to us, that so the glory of it may return to Himself. 
 The highest Agent cannot work but for the highest end ; so
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 25l! 
 
 that, as the Apostle speaks, when God would confirm his 
 covenant by an oath, He sivare by Himself^ because He could 
 swear by no greater, so, in all things, He must be the end of 
 His own actions, because there is no greater, nor better end, 
 yea, none by infinite odds so great, or good. Particularly in 
 the calling and exalting of a number of lost mankind to so great 
 honour and happiness, both in designing that great work, and 
 in performing it, He aims at the opening up, and declaring of 
 His rich grace, for the glory of it ; as the Apostle St. Paul 
 tells us, once and again (Ephes. i. 6, 12). 
 
 2. As this is God's end it ought to be ours, and therefore 
 ours because it is His. And for this very purpose, both here 
 and elsewhere, are we put in mind of it, that we may be true 
 to His end, and intend it with Him. This is His purpose in 
 calling us, and therefore it is our great duty, being so called — ■ 
 to declare his praises. All things and persons shall pay this 
 tribute, even those who are most unwilling ; but the happiness 
 of His chosen, is, that they are active in it, others are passive 
 only. Whereas the rest have His praise wrested from them, 
 they do declare it cheerfully, as the glorious angels do. As 
 the Gospel brings them glad tidings of peace from God, and 
 declares to them that love and mercy diat is in Him, they 
 smother it not, but answer it ; they declare it, and set forth the 
 glory of it, with their utmost power and skill. 
 
 There be in this two things, 1. Not only that they speak 
 upon all occasions to the advantage of His grace, but that the 
 frame of their actions be such as doth tend to the exalting of 
 God. And 2, That in those actions they do intend this end, 
 or set up this for their aim. 
 
 1. Their words and actions being conformable to that high 
 and holy estate to which they are called, do commend and 
 praise their Lord, who hath called them to it. The virtues 
 which are in them, tell us of His virtues, as brooks lead us to 
 their springs. When a Christian can quietly repose his trust 
 on God, in a matter of very great difficulty, wherein there is 
 no other thing to stay him, but God alone, this declares that
 
 ^52 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 there is strength enough in God that bears him up, that there 
 must be in Him that real abundance of goodness and truth 
 that the word speaks of hhii. Abraham believed, and (jave 
 glory to God: (Rom. iv. 20:) this is what a believer can do, to 
 declare the truth of God ; he relies on it. He that believes, 
 sets to his seal that God is true, (John iii. 33.) So also their 
 holiness is for His praise. ]\Ien hear that there is a God who 
 is infinitely holy, but they can see neither Him nor His holi- 
 ness ; yet, when they perceive some lineaments of it in the faces 
 of His children, which are in no others, this may convince them 
 that its perfection, which must be somewhere, can be no where 
 else than in their Heavenly Father. When these, which are 
 His peculiar plants, bring forth the fruits of holiness, which 
 naturally they yielded not, it testifies a supernatural work of 
 His hand who planted them ; and the more they are fruitful, 
 the greater is His praise. Herein, says our Saviour, is your 
 heavenly Father glorified, that ye bring forth much fruit. 
 (John XV. 8.) Wei'e it not for the conscience of this duty to 
 God, and possibly the necessity of their station and calling, it 
 may be, some Christian had rather altogether lock up and keep 
 within himself any grace he hath, than let it appear at all, con- 
 sidering some hazards which he and it run in the discovery ; 
 and, it may be, could take some pleasure in the world's mistakes 
 and disesteem of him. But seeing both piety and charity 
 require the acting of graces in f converse with men, that which 
 hypocrisy doth for itself, a real Christian may and should do 
 for God. 
 
 2. The other thing mentioned, as making up this rule, will 
 give the difference ; that not only what we speak and do 
 should be such as agrees with this end, but that in so speaking 
 and doing our eye be upon this end ; that all our Christian 
 conversation be directly intended by us, not to cry up our own 
 virtues, but to glorify God, and His virtues, — to declare Hia 
 jyraiscs who hath called us. 
 
 Let your light, says our Saviour (j\lalt. v. IC), shine, and 
 shine before men too ; that is not forbidden ; yea, it is com-
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 253 
 
 mandcd, but it is thus commanded, Let your Ihjld so sliine 
 before men, tliaf they, sceiiuj your (jnod icorks — yourselves as 
 little as may be, your works more than yourselves, (as the sun 
 gives us its light, and will scarce suffer us to look upon itself,) 
 — viay glorify — Whom ? You ? No, but — your Father which 
 is in Heaven. Let your U<jht shine, it is given for that pur- 
 pose, but let it shine always to the glory of the FafJier of 
 lights. Men that seek themselves, may share in the same 
 public kind of actions with you ; but let your secret intention 
 (which God eyes most) sever you. This is the impress that a 
 sincere and humble Christian sets upon all his actions, To the 
 glory of God. He useth all he hath, especially all his graces, 
 to His pi'aise who gives all, and is sorry he hath no more for 
 this use, and is daily seeking after more, not to bring more 
 esteem to himself, but more honour to God. It is a poor 
 booty to hunt after that, namely, an airy vain breath of men : 
 the best things in them, their solidest good, is altogether 
 vanity; how much more that which is lightest and vainest in 
 them ! This is the mind that is in every Christian, in all his 
 ways to deny himself, and to be willing to abase himself to 
 exalt his Master ; to be of St. Paul's temper, who regarded 
 not himself at all, honour or disiionour, prison or liberty, life 
 or death, content he was with anything, so Christ might he 
 magnified. (Phil. i. 20.) 
 
 And as every godly mind must be thus affected, so especially 
 the ministers of the Gospel, they who are not only called with 
 others to partake of this marvellous light, but are in a special 
 manner to hold it forth to others. How do pure affections 
 become them, and ardent desires to promote His glory who 
 hath so called them ! A rush for your praise or dispraise of 
 us; only receive Jesus Christ, and esteem highly of him, and 
 it is enough. iVe preacli not ourselves, says the Apostle, but 
 Christ Jesus the Lord. (2 Cor. iv. 5.) That is our en-and, 
 not to catch either at base gain or vain applause for ourselves, 
 but to exalt our Lord Jesus in the hearts of men. And to 
 those who are so minded, there is a reward abiding them, of
 
 254 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 such riches and honour as they would be very loth to exchange 
 for any thing to be had amongst men. 
 
 But, in his station, this is the mind of every one who loves 
 the Lord Jesus, most heartily to make a sacrifice of himself, 
 and all he is and hath, — means, and esteem, and life, and all, 
 to His glory who humbled himself so low, to exalt us to these 
 dignities, to make us kings and priests unto God. 
 
 It is most just, seeing we have our crowns from Him, and 
 that He hath set them on our heads, that we take them in our 
 hands, and throw them down before His throne. All our 
 graces (if we have any) are His free gift, and are given as the 
 rich garments of this spiritual priesthood, only to attire us suit- 
 ably for this spiritual sacrifice of His praises ; as the costly 
 vesture of the high priest under the Law, was not appointed 
 to make him gay for himself, but to decorate him for his holy 
 service, and to commend, as a figure of it, the perfect holiness 
 wherewith our great high priest, Jesus Christ, was clothed. 
 What good thing have we, that is not from the hand of our 
 good God? And receiving all from Him, and after a special 
 manner spiritual blessings, is it not reasonable that all we have, 
 but those spiritual gifts especially, should declare His praise, 
 and His only ? David doth not grow big with vain thoughts, 
 and lift up himself, because God had lifted him up, but exclaims, 
 I will extol Thee, because thou hast lijtedmeup. (Psal.xxx. 1.) 
 The visible heavens, and all the beauty and the lights in them, 
 speak nothing but His glory who framed them ; (as the Psalmist 
 teacheth us, Psal. xix. 1 ;) and shall not these spiritual lights, 
 His called ones, whom he hath made lights so peculiarly for 
 that purpose, these Stars in His ricjid liand, do it much more ? 
 Oh ! let it be thus with us ! The more he gives, be still the 
 more humble, and let Him have the return of more glory, and 
 let it go entire to Him ; it is all His due ; and in doing thus 
 we shall still grow richer ; for where he sees the most faithful 
 servant, who purloins nothing, but improves all to his Master's 
 advantage, surely, him He will trust with most. 
 
 And as it is thus both most due to God, and most profitable
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 255 
 
 for ourselves, in all things to seek His praises, so it is the most 
 excellent and generous intent, to have the same thought with 
 God, the same purpose as His, and to aim no lower than at 
 His glory : whereas it is a base, poor thing for a man to seek 
 himself far below that royal dignity that is here put upon 
 Christians, and that priesthood joined with it. Under the Law, 
 those who were squint-eyed were incapable of the priesthood : 
 truly, this squinting out to our own interest, the looking aside 
 to that, in God's affairs especially, so deforms the face of the 
 soul, that it makes it altogether unworthy the honour of this 
 spiritual priesthood. Oh ! this is a large task, an infinite task. 
 The several creatures bear their part in this ; the sun says 
 somewhat, and moon and stars, yea, the lowest have some share 
 in it ; the very plants and herbs of the field speak of God ; 
 and yet, the very highest and best, yea, all of them together, 
 the whole concert of heaven and earth, cannot shew forth all 
 His praise to the full. No, it is but a part, the smallest part 
 of that glory, which they can reach. 
 
 We all pretend to these dignities, in that we profess ourselves 
 Christians ; but if we have a mind to be resolved of the truth 
 in this, (for many, many are deceived in it !) we may, by asking 
 ourselves seriously, and answering truly to these questions : 
 1st, Whether are my actions and the course of my life such as 
 give evidence of the grace of God, and so speak His praise ? 
 If not, surely I am not of this number that God hath thus 
 called and dignified. And this test, I fear, would degrade 
 many. 2dly. If my life be somewhat regular and Christian- 
 like, yet, whether do I in it all, singly and constantly, without 
 any selfish or sinister end, desire and seek the glory of God 
 alone.'' Otherwise, I may be like this chosen generation, but 
 I am not one of them. And this, out of doubt, would make 
 the number yet far less. Well, think on it ; it is a miserable 
 condition for men either to be grossly staining and dishonour- 
 ing the holy religion they profess, or, in seeming to serve and 
 honour God, to be serving and seeking themselves ', it is the 
 way to lose themselves for ever. Oh ! it is a comfortable thing
 
 ^56 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 to liave an upright mind, and to love God for Himself; and 
 love seeks not its own fliimjs. (1 Cor. xiii. 5.) They are truly 
 happy, who make this their work sincerely, though weakly, 
 to advance the praises of their God in all things ; and who, 
 finding the great imperfection of their best diligence in this 
 work here, are still longing to be in that state, where they shall 
 do it better. 
 
 Yew 10. Wliieh in time jiast were not a people, but are now the people 
 of God; which had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy. 
 
 Thk love of God to His children is the great subject both of 
 His word and of their thoughts; and therefore is it that His 
 word (the rule of their thoughts, and their whole lives) speaks 
 so much of that love, to the very end that they may think much, 
 and esteem highly of it, and walk answerably to it. This is 
 the scope of St. Paul's doctrine to the Ephesians, and the top 
 of his desires for them. (Seech, iii. 17.) And this is our 
 Apostle's aim here. As he began the Epistle with opposing 
 their election in heaven to their dispersion on earth, the same 
 consideration runs through the whole of it. Here he is repre- 
 senting to them the great fruit of that love, the happy and high 
 estate to a\ hich they are called in Christ ; that the choosing of 
 Christ and of believers is as one act, and they as one entire 
 object of it, — one glorious Temple, He the foundation and 
 head corner-stone, and they the edilicc ; — one honourable fra- 
 ternity, He the King of kings, and great high priest, and they 
 likewise through him made kings and priests unto God the 
 Father, a royal priesthood; He the Jiijht of the iv or Id, and 
 they through Him the children of liyht. Now that this their 
 dignity, v/hich shines so bright in its own innate worth, may 
 yet appear the more, the Apostle here sets it off by a double 
 opposition, first, of the misery under which others are, and 
 secondly, of that misery under which they themselves were 
 before their calling. And this being set on both sides, is as a 
 dark shadowing round about their ha})pincss here described, 
 setting off the lustre of it.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. S57 
 
 Their former misery, expressed in the former verse by daih- 
 ness, is liere more fully and plainly set before their view in 
 these words. They are borrowed from the prophet Hosea, (ch. 
 ii. ver. 23,) Avhere, as is usual with the prophets, he is raised up 
 by the Spirit of God, from the temporal troubles and deliver- 
 ances of the Israelites, to consider and foretel that great restora- 
 tion wrought by Jesus Christ, in purchasing a new people to 
 Himself, made up both of Jews and Gentiles who believe ; and 
 therefore the prophecy is fit and applicable to both. So that 
 the debate is altogether needless, whether it concerns the Jews 
 or Gentiles ; for in its spiritual sense, as relating to the king- 
 dom of Christ, it foretels the making of the Gentiles, who Avere 
 not before so, the 'people of God, and the recovery of the Jews 
 likewise, who by their apostacies, and the captivities and dis- 
 persions which came upon them as just punishments of those 
 apostacies, were degraded from the outward dignities they had 
 as the people of God, and withal were spiritually miserable 
 and captives by nature, and so in both respects laid equal with 
 the Gentiles, and stood as much in need of this restitution as 
 they. St. Paul useth the passage concerning the calling of the 
 Gentiles, Rom. ix. 25. And here, St. Peter writing, as is 
 most probable, particularly to the dispersed Jews, applies it to 
 them, as being, in the very reference it bears to the Jews, truly 
 fulfilled in those alone who were believers, faith making them a 
 part of the true Israel of God, to which the promises do pecu- 
 liarly belong: as the Apostle St. Paul argues at large, in the 
 ninth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans. 
 
 Their former misery, and their present happiness, we have 
 here under a double expression : they were, 1. not a people, 2. 
 destitute of mercy. Not the people of God, says the Prophet ; 
 not a people, says our Apostle : being not God's people, they 
 were so base and miserable as not to be worthy of the name of 
 a people at all ; as it is taken, Deut. xxxii. 21. 
 
 There is a kind of being, a life that a soul hath by a peculiar 
 union with God, and therefore, in that sense, the soul without 
 God is dead, as the body is without the soul. (Eph. ii. 1 .) Yea, 
 
 Vol. I. S
 
 ^58 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 as the body, separated from the soul, is not only a lifeless lamp, 
 but putrefies, and becomes noisome and abominable, thus the 
 soul, separated from God, is subject to a more loathsome and 
 vile putrefaction. (See Psal. xiv. 3.) So that men who are yet 
 unbelievers, are not, as the Hebrews expressed death. IVIulti- 
 tudes of them are not a people, but a heap of filthy carcasses. 
 Again, take our natural misery in the notion of a captivity, 
 which was the judgment threatened against the Jews, to make 
 them in this sense not a 2^ooj)Ie ; therefore their captivity is 
 often spoken of by the Prophets as a death, and their restora- 
 tion as their resurrection, as Ezek. xxxvii. And as a captive 
 people is civilly dead, (as they speak,) so a soul captive to sin 
 and the Prince of darkness, is spiritually dead, wanting happi- 
 ness and w'ell-being, which if it never attain, it had better, for 
 itself, not be at all. There is nothing but disorder and confu- 
 sion in the soul without God, the affections hurrying it away 
 tumultuously. 
 
 Thus, captive sinners are not ; they are dead ; they Avant 
 that happy being that flows from God to the souls which are 
 united to Himself, and, consequently, they must want that 
 society and union one with another, which results from the 
 former, results from the same union that believers have with 
 God, and the same being that they have in Him ; whicli makes 
 them truly worthy to be called a people, and particularly the 
 people of God. His people are the only people in the world 
 worthy to be called a people ; the rest are but refuse and dross. 
 Although in the world''s esteem, which judges by its own rules 
 in favour of itself, the people of God be as no body, no people, 
 a company of silly creatures: yea, we are made, says tlie great 
 Apostle, an the filth of the ivorld, and the off-scourinf) of all 
 thiiujs (1 Cor. iv. 13) ; yet in His account who hath chosen 
 them, who alone knows the true value of Uiings, His people are 
 tJie only people, and all the rest of the world as nothiiiy in His 
 eyes. He dignifies and beautifies them, and loves in them that 
 beauty which He hath given them. 
 
 13 at under that term is comprised, not only that new being
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 259 
 
 of believers in each one of them apart, but that tie and union 
 that is amongst them as one people^ being incorporated toge- 
 ther, and hving under the same government and laws, -without 
 which a people are but as the beasts of the field, or the fishes 
 of the sea, and the creeping things that have no ruler over 
 them, as the Prophet speaks, Habak. i. 14. That regular living 
 in society, and union in laws and policy, makes many men to be 
 one people ; but the civil union of men in states and kingdoms 
 is nothing comparable to the mysterious union of the people of 
 God with Him, and one with another. That commonwealth 
 hath a firmer union than all others. Believers are knit together 
 in Christ as their Head, not merely as a civil or political head 
 ruling them, but as a natural head enlivening them, giving 
 them all one life. Men in other societies, though well ordered, 
 yet are but as a multitude of trees, regularly planted indeed, 
 but each hath his own root ; but the faithful are all branches 
 of one root. Their union is so mysterious, that it is compared 
 to the very union of Christ with his Father, as it is indeed the 
 product of it, (John xvii. 21.) 
 
 People of God.'\ I ivill say to them, Thou art my people^ 
 and they shall say Thou art my God. (Hos. ii. 23.) That 
 mutual interest and possession is the very foundation of all our 
 comfort. He is the first chooser ; He first says. My people ; 
 calls them so, and makes them to be so ; and then they say. My 
 God. It is therefore a relation that shall hold, and shall not 
 break, because it is founded upon His choice who changes not. 
 The tenor of an external covenant with a people, (as the Jews 
 particularly found,) is such as may be broken by man's unfaith- 
 fulness, though God remain faithful and true ; but the New 
 Covenant of grace makes all sure on all hands, and cannot be 
 broken ; the Lord not only keeping His own part, but likewise 
 performing ours in us, and for us, and establishing us, that as 
 He departs not from us first, so we shall not depart from Him. 
 / ivill betroth thee to me for ever. It is an indissoluble mar- 
 riage, that is not in danger of being broken either by divorce 
 or death, 
 
 S 2
 
 2G0 A COMMENTAUY UPON 
 
 My i^cople.'] There is a treasure of instruction and comfort 
 wrapped up in that word, not only more than the profane world 
 can imagine, (for they indeed know nothing at all of it,) but 
 more than they who are of the number of his people are able to 
 conceive, — a deep unfathomable. My jicojile ; they His por- 
 tion, and He theirs ! He accounts nothing of all the world 
 beside them, and they of nothing at all beside Him. For them 
 He continues the world. Many and great are the privileges of 
 His people, contained in that great charter, the holy Scriptures, 
 and rich is that land where their inheritance lies ; but all is in 
 this reciprocal, that He is their God. All His power and wis- 
 dom are engaged for their good. How great and many soever 
 are their enemies, they may well oppose this to all, He is their 
 God. They are sure to be protected and j)rospered, and in 
 the end to have full victory. Happy then is that people whose 
 God is the Lord. 
 
 Which had not obtained mercy.'] The mercies of the Lord 
 to His chosen are from everlastiny ; yet so long as His decree 
 of mercy runs hid, and is not discovered to them in the effects 
 of it, they wee said not to have received, or obtained, mercy. 
 When it begins to act and work in their effectual calling, then 
 they find it to be theirs. It was in a secret way moving forward 
 towards them before, as the sun after midnight is still coming 
 nearer to us, though we perceive not its approach till the dawn- 
 ing of the day. 
 
 Mercy ^ The former word, the people of God, teaches us 
 liow yreat the change is that is wrought by the calling of God : 
 this teaches us, 1. How/ree it is. The j)eople of God, that h 
 the good attained in the change : Obtained mercy, that is the 
 spring whence it flows. This is indeed implied in the words 
 of the change ; of no people — such as have no right to such a 
 dignity at all, and in themselves no disposition for it — to be 
 made His people, can be owing to nothing but free grace, such 
 mercy as supposes nothing, and seeks nothing, but misery in us, 
 and works upon that. As it is expressed to have been very free 
 to this people of the J ews, in choosing them before the rest of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 261 
 
 the world, (Deut. vii. 7, 8,) so it is to the spiritual Israel of God, 
 and to every one particularly belonging to that company. Why 
 is it that He chooseth one of a family, and leaves another, but 
 because it pleaseth Him? He blofs out their transcjressions 
 for his own name's sake. (Isa. xliii. 25.) And, 2. As it is free 
 mercy, so it is tender mernj. The word in the Prophet sig- 
 nifies tenderness, or bowels of compassion ; and such are the 
 mercies of our God towards us. See Jer. xxxi. 20; the bowels 
 of a father, as it is Psal. ciii. 13; and if you think not that 
 tenderness enough, those of a mother, yea, more than a mother, 
 (Isa. xlix. 15. 3.) 3. It is rich mercy; it dehghts to glorify 
 itself in the greatest misery ; it pardons as easily the greatest 
 as the smallest of debts. 4. It is a constant unalterable mercy, 
 a stream still running. 
 
 Now in both these expressions the Apostle draws the eyes of 
 believers to reflect on their former misery, and to view it toge- 
 ther with their present state. This is very frequent in the 
 Scriptures. (See Ezek. xvi. ; Eph. xxi. 1 ; 1 Cor. vi. 11, <^t.) 
 And it is of very great use ; it works the soul of a Christian to 
 much humility, and love, and thankfulness, and obedience. 
 It cannot choose but force him to abase himself, and to magnify 
 the free grace and love of God. And this may be one reason 
 why it pleaseth the Lord to suspend the conversion of some per- 
 sons for many years of their life, yea, to suffer them to stain 
 those years with grievous and gross sins, in order that the 
 riches and glory of His grace, and the freeness of His choice, 
 may be the more legible both to themselves and others. Like- 
 wise, those apprehensions of the wrath due to sin, and the 
 sights of hell as it were, which he brings some unto, either at 
 or after their conversion, make for this same end. That glo- 
 rious description of the Neiv Jerusalem, Revel, xxi, 16, is 
 abundantly delightful in itself; and yet, the fiery lake spoken 
 of there, makes all that is spoken of the other sound much the 
 sweeter. 
 
 But universally, all the godly have this to consider, that 
 they were strangers and enemies to God, and to think, 'Whence
 
 262 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 was it that I, a lump of the same polluted clay with those that 
 perish, should be taken, and purified, and moulded by the 
 Lord's own hand for a vessel of glory? Nothing but free 
 grace makes the difference ; and where can there be love, and 
 praises, and service found to answer this ? All is to be ascribed 
 to the mercy, gifts, and calling of Clirist. And his ministers, 
 with St. Paul, acknowledge that, because they have received 
 mercy, they faint not. (2 Cor. iv. 1.) 
 
 But alas ! we neither enjoy the comfort of this mercy as ob- 
 tained, nor are grieved for wanting it, nor stirred up to seek 
 after it, if not yet obtained. What do we think ? Seems it a 
 small thing in your eyes to be shut out from the presence of 
 God, and to bear the weight of His wrath for ever, that you 
 thus slight his mercy, and let it pass by you unregarded ? Or 
 shall an imagined obtaining divert you from the real pursuit of 
 it ? Will you be willingly deceived, and be your own deceivers, 
 in a matter of so great importance? You cannot think too 
 highly of the riches of Divine mercy; it is above all your 
 thoughts; but remember and consider this, that there is a 
 peculiar jjeop/e of His own, to whom alone all the riches of it 
 do belong. And therefore, how great soever it is, unless you 
 find yourselves of that number, you cannot lay claim to the 
 smallest share of it. 
 
 And you are not ignorant a\ hat is their character, what kind 
 of people they are, who have such a knowledge of God as Him- 
 self gives. They are all taught of God, enlightened and sanc- 
 tified by His Spirit, a holy people, as he is a Holy God : such 
 as have the riches of that Grace by which they are saved, in 
 most precious esteem, and have their hearts by it inflamed with 
 His love, and therefore their thoughts taken up with nothing 
 so much as studying how they may obey and honour Him ; 
 rather choosing to displease all the world than offend Him, 
 and accounting nothing too dear, yea, nothing good enough to 
 do Him service. If it be thus with you, then you have indeed 
 ohtainrd mercy. 
 
 But if you be such as can wallow in the same puddle with
 
 THE VIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 263 
 
 the profane world, and take a share of their ungodly ways, 
 or if, though your outward carriage be somewhat more smooth, 
 you regard iniquity in your hearts, have your hearts ardent 
 in the love and pursuit of the world, but frozen to God ; if you 
 have some bosom idol that you hide and entertain, and cannot 
 find in your heart to part with some one beloved sin, whatsoever 
 it is, for all the love that God hath manifested to man in the 
 Son of His lovo, Jesus Christ ; in a word, if you can please 
 and delight yourself in any way displeasing unto God, (though 
 his people, while they are here, have spots, yet these are not 
 the spots of his people that I am now speaking of,) I can give 
 you no assurance that as yet you have obtained mercy : on 
 the contrary, it is certain that the ivrath of God is yet abiding 
 on you, and if you continue in this state, you are in apparent 
 danger of perishing under it. You are yet children of spiritual 
 darkness, and in the way to utter and everlasting darkness. 
 Know ye Avhat it is to be destitute of this mercy ? It is a woful 
 state, though you had all worldly enjoyments, and were at the 
 top of (JUtward prosperity, to be shut out from the mercy and 
 love of God. 
 
 There is nothing doth so kindly work repentance, as the 
 right apprehension of the mercy and love of God. The beams 
 of that love are more powerful to melt the heart, than all the 
 flames of mount Sinai, all the threatenings and terrors of the 
 Law. Sin is the root of our misery ; and therefore it is the 
 proper work of this mercy to rescue the soul from it, both 
 from the guilt and the power of it at once. Can you think 
 there is any suitableness in it, that the peculiar people of God 
 should despise His laws, and practise nothing but rebellions ? 
 that those in whom He hath magnified His mercy should take 
 pleasure in abusing it ? or that He hath washed any with the 
 blood of His Son, to the end that they may still wallow again 
 in the mire? As if we were redeemed not from sin but to sin; 
 as if we should say, JVe are delivered to do all these abomina- 
 tions, as the Prophet speaks, Jer. vii. 10. Oh ! let us not 
 dare thus abuse and affront the free grace of God, if we mean
 
 264 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 to be saved by it ; but let as many as would be found amongst 
 those tliat obtain mercy, walk as His people, whose peculiar 
 inheritance is His mercy. And seeing this grace of God hath 
 appeared unto us, let us embrace it, and let it effectually teach 
 us to deny ungodliness and woiidhj lusts. (Tit. ii. 11, 12.) 
 
 And if you be persuaded to be earnest suitors for this mercy, 
 and to fly unto Jesus, who is the true mercy-seat, then be 
 assured it is yours. Let not the greatest guiltiness scare you 
 and drive you from it, but rather drive you the more to it; for 
 the greater the weight of that misery is, under which you lie, 
 the more need you have of this mercy, and the more will be 
 the glory of it in you. It is a strange kind of argument used 
 by the Psalmist, and yet a sure one, — it concludes well and 
 strongly, (Psal. xxv. 7,) Lord, pardon my iniquity, for it is 
 great. The soul oppressed with the greatness of its sin lying 
 heavy upon it, may, by that very greatness of it pressing upon 
 it, urge the forgiveness of it at the hands of Free IMercy. It is 
 for thy name's sake,— that makes it strong; the force of the 
 inference lies in that. Thou art nothing, and Morse than no- 
 thing? True; but all that ever obtained this mercy were 
 once so : they Avere nothing of all that which it hath made them 
 to be ; they were not a j)eople, had no interest in God, were 
 strangers to mercy, yea, heirs of wrath ; yea, they had not 
 so much as a desire after God, until this mercy prevented them, 
 and shewed itself to them, and them to themselves, and so 
 moved them to desire it, and caused them to find it, caught 
 hold on them and plucked them out of the dungeon. And it is 
 unquestionably still the same mercy, and fails not; ever expend- 
 ing, and yet never all spent, yea, not so much as at all dimi- 
 nished ; flowing, as the rivers, from one age to another, serving 
 each age in the present, and yet no whit the less to those that 
 come after. He who exercises it is The LORD, forgiving 
 iniquity, transgression, and sin to all that come unto Him, 
 and yet still keeping mercy for thousands that come after. 
 
 You who have obtained this mercy, and have the seal of it 
 within you, it will certainly conform your hearts to its own
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 265 
 
 nature ; it will work you to a merciful compassionate temper of 
 mind to the souls of others who have not yet obtained it. You 
 will indeed, as the Lord doth, hate sin ; but as He doth likewise, 
 you will pity the sinner. You will be so far from misconstruing 
 and grumbling at the long-suffering of God, (as if you would 
 have the bridge cut because you are over, as St. Augustine 
 speaks,) that, on the contrary, your great desire will be to 
 draw others to partake of the same mercy with you, knowing 
 it to be rich enough ; and you will, in your station, use your 
 best diligence to bring in many to it, from love both to the 
 souls of men and to the glory of God. 
 
 And withal, you will be still admiring and extolling this 
 mercy, as it is manifested unto yourselves, considering what it 
 is, and what you were before it visited you. The Israelites 
 confessed, (at the offering of the first fruits,) to set off" the 
 bounty of God, A Syrian ready to perish was my father ; 
 they confessed their captivity in Egypt : but far poorer and 
 baser is our natural condition, and far more precious is that 
 land, to the possession of which this free mercy bringeth us. 
 
 Do but call back your thoughts, you that have indeed es- 
 caped it, and look back into that pit of misery whence the hand 
 of the Lord hath drawn you out, and you cannot fail to love 
 Him highly, and still kiss that gracious hand, even Avhile it is 
 scourging you with any affliction Avhatsoever ; because it hath 
 once done this for you, namely, plucked you out of everlasting 
 destruction. So David, (Psal. xl. 23,) as the thoughts of this 
 change will teach us to praise. He hath brought me up out of 
 an horrible pit: then follows, He hath put a new song in my 
 mouth, even praise unto our God ; not only redeemed me from 
 destruction, but withal crowned mc with glory and honour, 
 (Psal. ciii. 4.) He not only doth forgive all our debts, and let 
 us out of prison, but enriches us with an estate that cannot be 
 spent, and dignifies us with a crown that cannot wither, made 
 up of nothing of ours. These tvvo considerations will stretch 
 and tune the heart very high, namely, from what a low estate 
 Grace brings a man, and how high it doth exalt him ; in what
 
 266 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 a beggarl}^, vile condition the Lord finds us, and yet, that He 
 doth not only free us thence, but puts such dignities on us. 
 He raises up the poor out of the dust, and lifts the needy out 
 of the dunijhill, that he may set him with j^rinces, even with the 
 jmnees of his p)Pople. (Psal. cxiii. 7.) Or, as Joshua the 
 priest was stripped of his filthy garments, and had a fair mitre 
 set upon his head, (Zcch. iii. 3 — 5,) so those of this Priest- 
 hood are dealt withal. 
 
 Now, that we may be the deeper in the sense and admira- 
 tion of this mercy, it is indeed our duty to seek earnestly after 
 the evidence and strong assurance of it ; for things work on us 
 according to our notice and apprehensions of them, and there- 
 fore, the more right assurance Ave have of mercy, the more 
 love, and thankfulness, and obedience, will spring from it. 
 Therefore it is that the Apostle here represents this great and 
 happy change of estate to Christians, as a thing that they may 
 know concerning themselves, and that they ought to seek the 
 knowledge of, that so they may be duly affected with it. And 
 it is indeed a happy thing, to have in the soul an extract of 
 that great archive and act of grace towards it, that hath stood 
 in Heaven from eternity. It is surely both a very comfortable 
 and very profitable thing, to find and to read clearly the seal 
 of mercy upon the soul, which is holiness, that by which a 
 man is marked by God as a part of his peculiar possession 
 that He hath chosen out of the world. And when we per- 
 ceive any thing of this, let us look back, as here the Apostle 
 would have us to do, and reflect how God has called us from 
 darkness to His marvellous liyht. 
 
 Ver. 1 1 , Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims, abstain 
 from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul. 
 
 The right spiritual knowledge that a Christian hath of God 
 and of himself, differenceth itself from whatsoever is likest to 
 it, by the power and influence it hath upon the heart and life. 
 And in this it hath the lively impression of that doctrine of 
 the Holy Scriptures that teaches it ; wherein we still find
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 267 
 
 throughout, that tlie high mysteries of rchgion are accom- 
 panied with y^ractical truths, which not only agree with them, 
 but are drawn out of them, and not violently drawn, but na- 
 turally flowing from them, as pure streams from a pure spring. 
 Thus, in this Epistle, we find the Apostle intermixing his 
 divine doctrine with most useful and practical exhortations, 
 ch. i., V. 13, 22: and in the beginning of this chapter again; 
 and now in these words. 
 
 And upon this model ought both the ministers of the Gospel 
 to form their preaching, and the hearers their ear. Ministers 
 are not to instruct only, or to exhort only, but to do both. To 
 exhort men to holiness and the duties of a Christian life, with- 
 out instructing them in the doctrine of faith, and bringing 
 them to Jesus Christ, is to build a house without a founda- 
 tion. And on the other side, to instruct the mind in the 
 knowledge of Divine things, and neglect the pressing of that 
 practice and power of godliness, which is the undivided com- 
 panion of true faith, is to forget the building that ought to be 
 raised upon that foundation once laid, which is likewise a point 
 of very great folly. Or if men, after laying that right founda- 
 tion, do proceed to the superstructure of vain and empty specu- 
 lations, it is but to build hay and stubble, instead of those solid 
 truths that direct the soul in the way to happiness, which are 
 of more solidity and worth than gold, and silver, and jyrecious 
 stones. (1 Cor. iii. 12.) Christ, and the doctrine that reveals 
 him, is called by St. Paul, the mystery of the faith, (1 Tim. 
 iii. 9,) and (ver. 16) the mystery of (jodliness : as Christ is 
 the object of faith, so is he the spring and fountain of godliness. 
 The Apostle having, we see, in his foregoing discourse unfolded 
 the excellency of Christ in him, proceeds here to exhort them 
 to that pure and spiritual temper of mind and course of life, 
 that becomes them as Christians. 
 
 Those hearers are to blame, and do prejudice themselves, 
 who are attentive only to such words and discourse as stir the 
 affections for the present, and find no relish in the doctrine of 
 faith, and the unfolding of those mysteries that bear the whole
 
 268 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Avclo-lit of relioion, beinfj the ground both of all Christian obe- 
 dience, and all exhortations and persuasives to it. Those tem- 
 porary, sudden stirrings of the afFeclions, without a rightly- 
 informcd mind, and some measure of due knowledge of God in 
 Christ, do no good. It is the wind of a word of exhortation 
 that stirs them for the time against their lusts, but the first 
 wind of temptation that comes, carries them away ; and thus 
 tlie mind is but tossed to and fro, like a wave of the sea, with 
 all kind of winds, not being rooted and ijroiinded in the faith ^ 
 of Christ, (as it is Col. ii. 7,) and so, not rooted in the love of 
 Christ, (Eph. iii. 17,) which are the conquering graces that 
 subdue unto a Christian his lusts and the world. (See 1 John 
 V. 4 ; 2 Cor, v. 14, 15.) Love makes a man to be dead to 
 himself and to the world, and to live to Christ who died for him. 
 
 On the other part, they are no less, yea, more to blame, who 
 are glad to have their minds instructed in the mysteries of the 
 Christian faith, and out of a mere natural desire to know, are 
 curious to hear such things as inform them : but when it comes 
 to the urging of holiness and mortifying their lusts, these are 
 hard sayimjs, — they had rather there Avere some way to re- 
 ceive Christ and retain their lusts too, and to bring them to 
 agreement. To hear of the mercies of God, and the dignities 
 of his people in Christ, is very pleasing ; but to have this fol- 
 low upon it, ylbslain from fleshly lusts, this is an importune, 
 troublesome discourse. But it must be so for all that : those 
 Avho will share in that mercy and happiness, must abstain from 
 fleshly lusts. 
 
 Dearly beloved, I beseech you-l There is a faculty of re- 
 proving required in the ministry, and sometimes a necessity of 
 very sharp rebukes, cutting ones. They who have much of 
 the spirit of meekness, may have a rod by them too, to use 
 upon necessity. (1 Cor. iv. 21.) But surely the way of meek- 
 ness is that they use most willingly, as the Ajx)stle there im- 
 plies ; and out of all question, with ingenuous minds, the mild 
 way of sweet entreaties is very forcible ; as oil that penetrates 
 and .sinks in insensibly, or, (to use that known resemblance,)
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 9.69 
 
 they prevail as the sun-beams, which, without any noise, made 
 tlie traveller cast his cloak, which all the blustering of tlie 
 wind could not do, but made him rather gather it closer, and 
 bind it faster about him. We see the Apostles are frequent 
 in this strain of entreaties, / beseech you, as Rom. xii. 1. Now 
 this word of entreaty is strengthened much by the other. 
 Dearly beloved. Scarcely can the harshest reproofs, much 
 less gentle reproofs, be thrown back, that have upon them the 
 stamp of love. That Avhich is known to come from love, can- 
 not readily but be so received too. And it is thus expressed 
 for that very purpose, that the request may be the more wel- 
 come : Beloved. It is the advice of a friend, one that truly 
 loves you, and aims at nothing in it but your good. It is be- 
 cause I love you, that I entreat you, and entreat you as you 
 love yourselves, to abstain from fleshly lusts that ivar against 
 your souls. And what is our purpose when we exhort you to 
 believe and repent, but that you may be happy in the forgive- 
 ness of your sins ? Why do we desire you to embrace Christ, 
 but that through Him ye may have everlasting life ? Howso- 
 ever you take these things, it is our duty incessantly to put 
 you in mind of them ; and to do it with much love and ten- 
 derness of affection to your souls ; not only pressing you by 
 frequent warnings and exhortings,but also by frequent prayers 
 and tears for your salvation. 
 
 Abstain.'] It was a very wise abridgment that Epictetus 
 made of philosophy into those two words. Bear and forbear. 
 These are truly the two main duties that our Apostle recom- 
 mends to his Christian brethren in this Epistle. It is one 
 and the same strength of spirit, that raises a man above both 
 the troubles and pleasures of the world, and makes him despise 
 and trample upon both. 
 
 We have first briefly to explain what these fleshly lusts 
 mean ; then, to consider the exhortation of ahstainimj from 
 them. 
 
 Unchaste desires are particularly called by this name indeed, 
 but to take it for these only in this place, is doubtless too nar-
 
 2T0 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 row. That M-hich seems to be tlie true sense of it here, takes 
 in all undue desires and use of earthly things, and all the cor- 
 rupt affections of our carnal minds. 
 
 Now In that sense, these fleshly lusts comprehend a great 
 part of the body of sin. All those three, which St. John 
 speaks of, (1 Epis. ii. 16,) the world's accursed trinity, are in- 
 cluded under this name here of fleshhj lusts. A crew of base, 
 imperious masters they arc, to which the natural man is a 
 slave; servimj divers lusts, (Tit. iii. 3.) Some are more ad- 
 dicted to the service of one kind of lust, some to that of ano- 
 ther ; but all are in this unhappy, that they are strangers, yea, 
 enemies to God, and, as the brute creatures, servants to their 
 flesh;— either covetous, like the beasts of the field, with their 
 eye still upon the earth, or voluptuous, swimming in pleasures, 
 as fishes in the sea, or like the fowls of the air, soarino- in vain 
 ambition. All the strifes that are raised about these things, 
 all malice and mvyings, all bitterness and exil-speahing, 
 (Eph. iv. 31,) which are works of the flesh, and tend to the 
 satisfying of its wicked desires, we are here entreated to abstain 
 from. 
 
 To abstain from these lusts, is, to hate and fly from the 
 very thoughts and first motions of them ; and if sur])rised by 
 these, yet to kill them there, that they bring not forth ; and 
 to suspect ourselves even in those things that are not sinful, 
 and to keep afar off* from all inducements to those polluted 
 ways of sin. 
 
 In a word, we are to abstain not only from the serving of 
 our flesh in things forbidden, as unjust gain or unlawful plea- 
 sures, but also from immoderate desire of, and delightino- in, 
 any earthly thing, although it may be in itself lawfully, yea, 
 necessarily in some degree, desired and used. Yea, to have 
 any feverish, pressing thirst after gain, even just gain, or after 
 earthly delights, though lawful, is to be guilty of those fleshly 
 lusts, and a thing very unbeseeming the dignity of a Christian. 
 To see them that are chAhed in scarlet, embracing a dungJiill, 
 (Lam. iv. 4,) is a strange sight. Therefore the Apostle hav-
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 271 
 
 ing SO cleared that immediately before, hath the better reason 
 to require this of them, that they abstain from fleshly lusfs. 
 
 liet their own slaves serve them ; you are redeemed and de- 
 livered from them, a free people, yea, kings; and suits it with 
 royal dignity to obey vile lusts ? You are priests consecrated 
 to God, and will you tumble yourselves and your precious gar- 
 ments in the mire? It w^as a high speech of a heathen, 7'hat he 
 was greater, and horn to greater things, than to be a servant 
 to his body. How much more ought he who is born again to 
 say so, being born heir to a crown that fadeth not away ! 
 
 Again, as the honour of d Christian's estate is far above this 
 baseness of serving his lusts, so the happiness and pleasantness 
 of his estate set him above the need of the pleasures of sin. 
 The Apostle said before. If ye have tasted that the Lord is 
 gracious, desire the sincere milk of the word; desire that 
 word wherein ye may taste more of His graciousness. And as 
 that exhortation fitly vn-geth the appetite's desire of the word, 
 so it strongly persuades to this abstinence from fleshly lusts ; 
 yea, to the disdain and loathing of them. If you have the 
 least experience of the sweetness of His love, if you have but 
 tasted of the crystal river of His pleasures, the muddy pud- 
 dle-pleasures of sin will be hateful and loathsome to you ; 
 yea, the very best earthly delights will be disrelished, and will 
 seem unsavoury to your taste. The imbittering of the breasts 
 of the world to the godly, by afflictions, doth something indeed 
 towards weaning them from them ; but the breasts of conso- 
 lation, that are given them in their stead, wean much more 
 effectually. 
 
 The true reason why we remain servants to these lusts, some 
 to one, some to another, is, because w^e are still strangers to 
 the love of God and those pure pleasures that are in Him. 
 Though the pleasures of this earth be poor and low, and most 
 unworthy our pursuit, yet so long as men know no better, they 
 will stick by those they have, such as they arc. The philoso- 
 pher gives this as the reason why men are so much set upon 
 sensual delights, because they know not the higher pleasures
 
 S72 A COMMENTARY UTOX 
 
 that are proper to the soul ; and they must have it some way. 
 It is too often in vain to speak to men in this strain, to follow 
 them with the Apostle's entreaty, I beseech you, abstain from 
 fleshly lusts, unless they wlio are spoken to be such as he 
 speaks of in the former words, such as have obtained mercy, 
 and have tasted of the ' yraciousness and love of Christ, ivhose 
 loves are better than ivine. (Cant. i. 2.) Oh that we would 
 seek the knowledge of this love ! for, seeking it, we should 
 find it ; and finding it, there would need no force to pull the 
 delights of sin out of our hands ; we should throw them away 
 of our own accord. 
 
 Thus a carnal mind prejudices itself against religion, when 
 it hears that it requires an abstinence from fleshly lusts, and 
 bereaves men of their mirth and delight in sin ; but they know 
 not that it is to make way for more refined and precious delights. 
 There is nothing of this kind taken from us, but by a very 
 advantageous exchange it is made up. In the world ye shall 
 have affliction, but in me ye sJicdl have j^^dc^- Is not want of 
 the world's peace abundantly paid with peace in Christ ? Thus, 
 fleshly lusts are cast out of the hearts of believers as rubbish 
 and trash, to make room for spiritual comforts, "We are 
 haiTcd fdloicsJiip with tlie unfruilful icorlcs of darkness, to the 
 end that we may have fellowship with God and his Son Jesus 
 Christ. (1 John i. 3, 7.) This is to make men eat Angers 
 food indeed, as was said of the manna. The serving of the 
 flesh sets man below himself, down amongst the beasts ; but 
 the consolations of the S})irit, and communion with God, raise 
 him above himself, and associate him with the angels. But let 
 us speak to the Apostle's own dissuasives from these lusts, 
 taken, 1. From the condition of Christians; 2. From the con- 
 dition of those lusts. 
 
 1. From the condition of Christians: As strangers. These 
 dispersed Jews were strangers scattered in chvers countries, (ch. i. 
 ver. 1,) but that is not intended here ; they are called strangers 
 in that spiritual sense which a])phe.sin cuinmou to all the saints. 
 Possibly, in calling them thus, he alludes to the outward dis-
 
 THE FIRST ETTSTLE OF PETER. 273 
 
 persion, but means, by the allusion, to express their spiritual 
 alienation from the world, and interest in the New Jerusalem. 
 And this he uses as a very pertinent enforcement of his ex- 
 hortation. Whatsoever others do, the serving of the flesh, and 
 love of the world, are most incongruous and imseemly in you. 
 Consider what you are. If you were citizens of tliis world, 
 then you might drive the same trade with them, and follow the 
 same lusts ; but seeing you arc chosen and called out of this 
 world, and invested into a new society, made free of another 
 city, and are therefore here but travellers passing through to 
 your own country, it is very reasonable that there be this 
 diiFerence betwixt you and the world, that while they live as 
 at home, your carriage be such as becomes strangers ; not 
 glutting yourselves with their pleasures, not surfeiting upon 
 their delicious fruits, as some unwary travellers do abroad, but 
 as wise strangers, living warily and soberly, and still minding 
 most of all your journey homewards, suspecting dangers and 
 snares in your way, and so walking with holy fear (as the 
 Plebrew word for a stranger imports). 
 
 There is, indeed, a miserable party even Avithin a Christian : 
 the remainder of corruption, that is no stranger here, and 
 therefore keeps friendship and correspondence with the world, 
 and will readily betray him if he watch not the more. So that 
 he is not only to fly the i^ollutions of the world that are round 
 about him, and to choose his steps that he be not insnared from 
 without ; but he is to be upon a continual guard against the 
 lusts and corruption that are yet within himself, to curb and 
 control them, and give them resolute and flat refusals when 
 they solicit him, and to stop up their essays and opportunities 
 of intercourse with the world, and such things as nourish 
 them, and so to do what he can to starve them out of the holds 
 they keep within him, and to strengthen that new nature which 
 is in him ; to live and act according to it, though, in doing so, 
 he shall be sure to live as a stranger here, and a despised, 
 mocked, and hated stranger. 
 
 And it is not, on the whole, the worse that it should be so. 
 
 Vol. I. T
 
 274 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 If men in foreign countries be subject to forget tbeir OAvn at 
 any time, it is surely when tliey are most kindly used abroad, 
 and are most at their ease : and thus a Christian may be in 
 some danger when lie is best accommodated, and hath most of 
 the smiles and caresses of the world ; so that though he can 
 never wholly forget his home that is above, yet his thoughts 
 of it will be less frequent, and his desires of it less earnest, and 
 it may be, he may insensibly slide into its customs and habits, 
 as men will do that are well seated in some other country. But 
 by the troubles and unfriendliness of the world he gains this, 
 that when they abound most upon him, he then feels himself a 
 stranger, and remembers to behave as such, and thinks often 
 with much delight and strong desires on his own country, and 
 the rich and sure inheritance that lies there, and the ease and 
 rest he shall have when he comes thither. 
 
 And this will persuade him strongly to fly all polluted ways 
 and lusts, as fast as the world follows them. It will make him 
 abhor the pleasures of sin, and use the allowable enjoyments of 
 this earth warily and moderately, never engaging his heart to 
 them as Avorldlings do, but always keeping that free, — free 
 from that earnest desire in the pursuit of worldly things, and 
 that deep delight in the enjoyment of them, which the men of 
 the earth bestow upon them. There is a diligence in his calling, 
 and a prudent regard of his afl'airs, not only permitted to a 
 Christian, but recpiired of him. Eut yet, in comparison of 
 his great and hl<jli calliinj, (as the Apostle terms it,) he follows 
 all his other business with a kind of coldness and indifferency, 
 as not caring very much which way they go ; his heart is else- 
 where. The traveller provides himself as he can with enter- 
 tainment and lodging where he comes : if it be commodious, it 
 is well, but if not it is nd great matter. If he find but neces- 
 saries, he can abate delicacies very well ; for where he finds 
 them in his way, he neither can, nor, if he could, would choose 
 to stay there. Though his inn were dressed with the richest 
 hangings and furniture, yet it is not his home ; he must and 
 would leave it. This is the character of ungodly men, they
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 275 
 
 mind earthly things (Pliil. iii. 19) ; they are drowned in them 
 over head and cars, as we say. 
 
 If Christians would consider how Httle, and for how little a 
 Avhile, they are concerned in any thing here, they would go 
 through any state, and any changes of state, either to the better 
 or the worse, with very composed equal minds, always moderate 
 in their necessary cares, and never taking any care at all for 
 the flesh, to fulfil the lusts of it. (Rom. xiii. 14.) 
 
 Let them that have no better home than this world to lay 
 claim to, live here as at home, and serve their lusts ; they that 
 have all their portion in this life, no more good to look for 
 than what they can catch here, let them take their time of the 
 poor profits and pleasures that are here ; but you that have 
 your whole estate, all your riches and pleasures laid up in 
 Heaven, and reserved there for you, let your hearts be there, 
 and your conversation there. This is not the place of your 
 rest, nor of your delights, unless you would be willing to 
 change, and to have your good things Jiere, as some foolish 
 travellers, who spend the estate they should live on at home, 
 in a little while, braving it abroad amongst strangers. Will 
 you, with profane Esau, sell your birthright for a mess of pot- 
 tage, — sell eternity for a moment, and for a moment sell such 
 pleasures as a moment of them is more worth than an eternity 
 of the other. 
 
 2. The Apostle argues from the condition of those lusts. 
 It were quarrel enough against flesJdy lusts which ivar against 
 the soul, that they are so far below the soul, that they cannot 
 content, no, nor at all reach the soul ; they are not a suitable, 
 much less a satisfying good to it. Although sin hath un- 
 speakably abused the soul of man, yet its excellent nature and 
 original do still cause a vast disproportion betwixt it and all 
 those gross base things of the earth, which concern the flesh, 
 and go no further. But this is not all : these fleshly lusts are 
 not only of no benefit to the soul, but they are its pernicious 
 enemies ; they ivar against it. And their war against it is all 
 made up of stratagem and sleight, for they cannot hurt the 
 
 T 2
 
 5276 A COMMENTAKY UPON 
 
 soul, but by itself. They promise it some contentment, and so 
 gain its consent to serve them, and undo itself. They embrace 
 the soul that they may strangle it. The soul is too much 
 diverted from its own proper business, by the inevitable and 
 incessant necessities of the body ; and therefore it is the height 
 of injustice and cruelty to make it likewise serve the extrava- 
 gant and sinful desires of the flesh ; so much time for sleep, 
 and so much for eating and drinking, and dressing and un- 
 dressing, and by many, the greatest part of the time that re- 
 mains is spent in labouring and providing for these. Look 
 on the employments of most men : all the labour of the hus- 
 bandmen in the countr}^, and of tradesmen in the city, the 
 multitudes of shops and callings, what is the end of them all, 
 but the interest and service of the body ? And in all these, 
 the immortal soul is drawn down to drudge for the mortal 
 body, the house of clay wherein it dwells. And in the sense 
 of this, those souls that truly know and consider themselves in 
 this condition, do often groan under the burden, and desire 
 the day of their deliverance. But the service of the flesh in 
 the inordinate lusts of it, is a point of far baser slavery and in- 
 dignity to the soul, and doth not only divert it from spiritual 
 things for the time, but habitually indisposes it to every spi- 
 ritual work, and makes it earthly and sensual, and so unfits it 
 for heavenly things. Where these lusts, or any one of them 
 liave dominion, the soul cannot at all perform any good ; can 
 neither pray, nor liear, nor read the word aright ; and in so 
 far as any of them prevail upon the soul of a child of God, 
 they do disjoint and disable it for holy things. Although they 
 be not of the grossest kind of lusts, but such things as are 
 scarcely taken notice of in a man, either by others or by his 
 own conscience, some irregular desires or entanglements of the 
 heart, yet these little foxes willclestroij the vines ; (Cant. ii. 15;) 
 they will prey upon the graces of a Christian, and keep them 
 very low. Therefore it concerns us much to study our hearts, 
 and to be exact in calling to account the several affections that 
 ;u"e in tlitni ; otherwise, even such as are called of God, and
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 277 
 
 have, obtained mercij, (for sucli the Apostle speaks to,) may 
 have such hists within them, as will much abate the flourishing 
 of their graces, and the spiritual beauty of the soul. 
 
 The godly know it well in their sad experience, that their 
 own hearts do often deceive them, harbouring and hiding such 
 things ^as deprive them much of that liveliness of grace, and 
 those comforts of the Holy Ghost^ that otherwise they would 
 be very likely to attain unto. 
 
 This ivarring againd the soul^ which means their mischievous 
 and hurtful nature, hath this also included under it, that these 
 lusts, as breaches of God's law, do subject the soul to His. 
 wrath. So that by this the Apostle might well urge his point 
 Besides that these lusts are unworthy of you, the truth is, if 
 you Christians serve your lusts, you kill your souls. So 
 Romans viii. 13. 
 
 Consider, when men are on their death-beds, and near their 
 entering into eternity, what they then think of all their toiling 
 in the earth, and serving of their own hearts and lusts in any 
 kind ; when they see that, of all these ways, nothing remains 
 to them but the guiltiness of their sin, and the accusations of 
 conscience, and the wrath of God. 
 
 Oh ! that you would be persuaded to esteem your precious 
 souls, and not wound them as you do, but war for them, against 
 all those lusts that war against them. The soul of a Christian 
 is doubly precious, being, besides its natural excellency, en- 
 nobled by grace, and so twice descended of Heaven ; and 
 therefore it deserves better usage than to be turned into a 
 scullion, to serve the flesh. The service of Jesus Christ is that 
 which alone is fitting to it : it is alone honourable for the soul 
 to serve so high a lord, and its service is due only to Him who 
 bought it at so high a rate.
 
 ST8 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Ver. 12. Having your conversation honest among the GentUes, that 
 whereas they speak against jou as evU doers, they may, by your good 
 works which they shall behold, glorify God in the day of visitation. 
 
 These two things, that a natural man makes least account of, 
 are of all things in highest regard with a Christian, his own 
 soul and God''s glory : so that there be no stronger persuasives 
 to him in any thing, than the interest of these two. And by 
 these the Apostle urgeth his present exhortation to holiness 
 and blamelessness of life. For the substance of his advice or 
 request in this and the former verse, is the same : a truly 
 honest conversation is that only which is spiritual, not defiled 
 with the carnal lusts and pollutions of the ivorld. 
 
 The abstaining from those lusts doth indeed comprehend, 
 not only the rule of outward carriage, but the inward temper 
 of the mind ; whereas this honest conversation doth more 
 expressly concern our external deportment amongst men ; as it 
 is added, honest among the Gentiles, and so tending to the 
 glory of God. So that these two are inseparably to be re- 
 garded, the inward disposition of our hearts, and the outward 
 conversation and course of our lives. 
 
 I shall speak to the former first, as the spring of the latter. 
 Keep thine heart with all diligence, — all depends upon that, 
 —for from thence are the issues of life. (Prov. iv. 23.) And 
 if so, then the regulating of the tongue, and eyes, and feet, 
 and all will follow, as there it follows, v. 24 : Put away from 
 fhee a froward mouth. That the impure streams may cease 
 from running, the corrupt spring must be dried up. Men 
 may convey them in a close and concealed manner, making 
 them run, as it were, under ground, as they do filth under 
 vaults and in ditches (sentinas et cloacas) ; but till the heart 
 be renewed and purged fi'om base lusts, it will still be sending 
 forth, some way or other, the streams of iniquity. u4.s a 
 fountain swelleth out, or casteth forth her waters incessantly, 
 .so site casteth out her wickedness, says the Prophet of that 
 very people and city that avci'c culled hotij, by reason of the
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLU OF PETER. 279 
 
 ordinances of God, and the profession of the true reh'gion that 
 were amongst them : and therefore it is the same prophet's 
 advice from the Lord, IVasfi thine heart, O Jerusalem. How 
 long shall thy vain thoiujhts lochje within thee? (Jer. vi. 7, 
 and iv. 14.) 
 
 This is the true method, according to our Saviour's doctrine: 
 Mahe the tree <jood, and then the fruits will be good ; not 
 till then ; for ivho can gather grapes of fJiorns, or fi<js of 
 thistles? (Matt. vii. 16, 17.) Some good outward actions avail 
 nothing, the soul being unrenewed ; as you may stick some 
 figs, or hang some clusters of grapes upon a thorn-bush, but 
 they cannot grow upon it. 
 
 In this men deceive themselves, even such as have some 
 thoughts of amendment ; when they fall into sin, and are 
 reproved for it, they say, (and possibly think so too,) " I will 
 take heed to myself, I will be guilty of this no more." And 
 because they go no deeper, they are many of them ensnared in 
 the same kind again ; but, however, if they do never commit 
 that same sin, they do but change it for some other : as a 
 current of waters, if you stop their passage one way, they rest 
 not till they find another. The conversation can never be 
 uniformly and entirely good, till the frame of the heart, the 
 affections and desires that lodge in it, be changed. It is 
 naturally an evil treasure of impure lusts, and must in some 
 way vent and spend what it hath within. It is to begin with 
 the wrong end of your work, to rectify the outside first, to 
 smooth the conversation, and not first of all purge the heart. 
 Evil affections are the source of evil speeches and actions. 
 Wlience are strifes and fightings? says St. James: Are they 
 not from your lusts which war in your members ? (Jam. iv. 1.) 
 Unquiet, unruly lusts within, are the cause of the unquiet- 
 nesses and contentions abroad in the world. One man will 
 have his corrupt will, and another his, and thus they shock 
 and justle one another ; and by the cross encounters of their 
 purposes, as flints meeting, they strike out those sparks that 
 set all on fire.
 
 280 A COMMEJJTARY UPON 
 
 So then, according to the order of the Apostle's exhortation, 
 the only true principle of all good and Christian conversation 
 in the world, is the mortifying of all earthly and sinful lusts in 
 the heart. While they have possession of the heart, they do 
 so clog it, and straiten it towards God and his ways, that it 
 cannot walk constantly in them ; but when the heart is freed 
 from them, it is enlarged, and so, as David speaks, the man is 
 fitted not only to walk, but to run the way of GocVs command- 
 ments. (Psal. cxix. 32.) And without this freeing of the 
 heart, a man will be at the best very uneven and incongruous 
 in his ways, — in one step like a Christian, and in another like 
 a worldling ; which is an unpleasant antl unprofitable way, not 
 according to that word, (Psal. xviii. 32,) Thou hast set my feet 
 a.y hind's feet, — set them even, as the word is, not only swift, 
 but straight and even ; and that is the thing here required, 
 that the whole course and revolution of a Christian's life be 
 like himself. And that it may be so, the whole body of sin, 
 and all the members of it, all the deceitful lusts, must he 
 crucified. 
 
 In the words there are three things: 1. One point of a 
 Christian's ordinary entertainment in the world, is, to he evil 
 spoken (f. 2. Their good use of that evil, is, to do the better 
 for if. 3. The good end and the certain effect of their so 
 doing, is, the glory of God. 
 
 1. IVIiereas they speak against you as evil doers.'] This 
 is in general the disease of a man's corrupt nature, and argues 
 much the baseness and depravedness of it, — this propension to 
 evil speaking one of another, either blotting the best actions 
 Avidi misconstructions, or taking doubtful things by the left 
 ear ; not choosing the most favourable, but, on the contrary, 
 the very harshest sense that can be put upon them. Some 
 men take more ])leasure in the narrow eyeing of the true and 
 real faults of men, and then speak of them with a kind of de- 
 light. All these kinds of evil speaking are such fruits as 
 spring from that bitter root of pride and self-love, which is 
 naturally deep fastened in every man's heart. But besides
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEB, 281 
 
 this general bent to evil speaking, there is a particular malice 
 in the world against those who arc born of God, which must 
 have vent in calumnies and reproaches. If this evil speaking 
 be the hissing that is natural to the serpent's seed, surely, by 
 reason of their natural antipathy, it must be breathed forth 
 most against the seed of the ivoman, those that arc one with 
 Jesus Christ. If the tongues of the ungodly be s/iarp swords 
 even to one another, they will whet them sharper than ordinary 
 when tliey are to use them against the righteous, to wound 
 their name. The evil tongue must be always burning, that 
 is set on fire of hell, as St. James speaks; but against the 
 godly, it will be sure to be heated seven times hotter than it is 
 for others. The reasons of this are, 1. Being naturally haters 
 of God, and yet unable to reach Him, Avhat wonder is it if 
 their malice vent itself against His image in His children, and 
 labour to blot and stain that, all they can, with the foulest 
 calumnies? 2. Because they are neidier able nor willing them- 
 selves to attain unto the spotless, holy life of Christians, they 
 bemire them, and would make them like themselves, by false 
 aspersions : they cannot rise to the estate of the godly, and 
 therefore they endeavour to draw them down to theirs by 
 detraction. 3. The reproaches they cast upon the professors 
 of pure religion, they mean mainly against religion itself, and 
 intend by them to reflect upon it. 
 
 These evil speakings of the world against pious men profess- 
 ing religion, are partly gross falsehoods, invented without the 
 least ground or appearance of truth ; for the world being ever 
 credulous of evil, especially upon so deep a prejudice as it hath 
 against the godly, the falsest and most absurd calumnies will 
 always find so much belief as to make them odious, or very 
 suspected at least to such as know them not. This is the 
 world's maxim. Lie confidently , and it ivill always do some- 
 thing ; as a stone taken out of the mire and thrown against a 
 white wall, though it stick not there, but rebound presently 
 back again, yet it leaves a spot behind it. And with this kind 
 of evil speakings were the primitive Christians surcharged,
 
 282 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 even witli gross and horrible falsehoods, as all know who know 
 any thing of the history of those times; even such thino-s were 
 reported of them as the worst of wicked men would scarcely 
 be guilty of. The Devil, as crafty as he is, makes use, again 
 and again, of his old inventions, and makes them serve in 
 several ages; for so were the Waldemes accused of inhuman 
 banquetings and beastly promiscuous uncleanness, and divers 
 things not once to I)e named among Christians, much less to 
 be practised by them. So that it is no new thing to meet with 
 the inipurest, vilest slanders, as the world's reward of hoHness 
 and the practice of pure religion. 
 
 Then again consider how much more will the wicked insult 
 upon the least real blemishes that they can espy amongst the 
 professors of godliness. And in this there is a threefold injury 
 very ordinary : 1. Strictly to pry into, and maliciously to object 
 against Christians the smallest imperfections and frailties of 
 their lives, as if they pretended to and promised absolute per- 
 fection. They do indeed exercise themselves (such as are 
 Christians indeed) with St. Paul, to keep a good conscience in 
 all things towards God and men; (Acts xxiv. 16;) they have 
 a regard unto all God's commandments, as David speaks; 
 they have a sincere love to God, which makes them study the 
 exactest obedience they can reach : and this is an imperfect 
 kind of perfection ; it is evangelical, but not angelical. 2. ]\Ien 
 are apt to impute the scandalous falls of some particular Chris- 
 tians to the whole number. It is a very short incompetent rule, 
 to make judgment of any one man himself by one action, much 
 more to measure all the rest of the same profession by it. And 
 they yet proceed further in this way of misjudging. 3. They 
 impute the personal failings of men to their religion, and dis- 
 parage it because of the faults of those that profess it ; which, 
 as the ancients plead well, is the greatest injustice, and such as 
 they Avould not be guilty of against their own philosophers. 
 They could well distinguish betwixt their doctrine and the 
 manners of s(jme of their followers, and thus ought they to have 
 dealt with Christians too. They ought to have considered their
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEU. 283 
 
 religion in itself, and the doctrine that it teacheth, and had 
 they found it vicious, the blame had been just ; but if it taught 
 nothing but holiness and righteousness, then the blame of any 
 unholiness or unrighteousness found amongst Christians, ought 
 to rest upon the persons themselves who were guilty of it, and 
 not to be stretched to the whole number of professors, much 
 less to the religion that they professed. And yet this is still 
 the custom of the world upon the least falling they can espy in 
 the godly, or such as seem to be so ; much more with open 
 mouth do they revile religion, upon any gross sin in any of its 
 professors. 
 
 But seeing this is the very character of a profane mind, 
 and the badge of the enemies of religion, beware of sharing in 
 the least with them in it. Give not easy entertainment to the 
 reports of profane or of mere civil men, against the professors 
 of religion ; they are undoubtedly partial, and their testimony 
 may be justly suspected. Lend them not a ready ear to receive 
 their evil speakings, much less your tongue to divulge them, 
 and set them further going; yea, take heed that you take not 
 pleasure in any the least kind of scoffs against the sincerity and 
 power of religion. And all of you who desire to walk as 
 Christians, be very wary that you wrong not one another, 
 and help not the wicked against you, by your mutual miscon- 
 structions and miscensures one of another. Far be it from you 
 to take pleasure in hearing others evil-spoken of; whether un- 
 justly or though it be some way deservedly, yet let it be always 
 grievous to you, and no way pleasing to hear such things, 
 much less to speak of them. It is the DeviPs delight to be 
 pleased with evil-speakings. The Syrian calls him an Akal 
 Kartxa^ Eater of slanders or calumnies. They are a dish that 
 pleases his palate, and men are naturally fond of his diet. In 
 Psal. XXXV. 16, there is a word that is rendered mockers at 
 feasts, or feasting-mockers — persons w^ho feasted men's ears, at 
 their meetings, with speaking of the faults of others scoffingly, 
 and therefore shared with them of their cakes, or feasts, as the 
 word is. But to a renewed Christian mind, which hath a new
 
 284 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 taste, and all its senses new, there is nothing more unsavoury, 
 than to hear the defaming of others, especially of such as profess 
 religion. Did the law of love possess our hearts, it would re- 
 gulate both the car and tongue, and make them most tender of 
 the name of our brethren ; it would teach us the faculty of 
 covering their infirmities, and judging favourably, taking always 
 the best side and most charitable sense of their actions : it 
 would teach us to blunt the edge of our censures upon our- 
 selves, our own hard hearts and rebellious wills Avithin, that 
 they might remain no more sharp against others, than is needful 
 for their good. 
 
 And this would cut short those that are without, from a great 
 deal of provisions of evil-speaking against Christians, that they 
 many tiiues are furnished with by Christians themselves, 
 through their uncharitable carriage one towards another. 
 However, this being the hard measure that they always find 
 in the world, it is their wisdom to consider it aright, and to 
 study that good which, according to the Apostle's advice, 
 may be extracted out of it, and that is the second thing to be 
 spoken to. 
 
 Having your conversation honest among the Gentiles.'] 
 As the sovereign power of drawing good out cf evil resides in 
 God, and argues His ])rimitive goodness, so He teachcth his 
 own children some faculty this way, that they may resemble 
 Him in it. He teacheth them to draw sweetness out of their 
 bitterest afflictions, and increase of inward peace fi-om their 
 outward troubles. And as these buflTetinffs of the tongue are 
 no small ])art of their sufferings, so they reap no small benefit 
 by them many ways ; particularly in this one, that they order 
 their conversation the better, and walk the more exactly for it. 
 
 And this no doubt, in Divine providence, is intended and 
 ordered for their good, as are all their other trials. The sharp 
 censures and evil speakings that a Christian is encompassed 
 with in the world, is no other than a hedge of thorns set on 
 every side, that he go not out of his way, but keep straight on in 
 it betwixt them, not declining to the right hand nor to the left;
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETER. 285 
 
 whereas, if they found nothing but the favour and good opinion 
 of the world, tliey might, as in a way unhedged, be subject to 
 expatiate and wander out into the meadows of carnal pleasures 
 that arc about them, which would call and allure them, and 
 often divert them from their journey. 
 
 And thus it might fall out, that Christians would deserve 
 censure and evil speakings the more, if they did not usually 
 suffer them undeserved. This then turns into a great advan- 
 taoe to them, making their conduct more answerable to those 
 two things that our Saviour joins, watchandprcuj ; causing them 
 to be the more vigilant over themselves, and the more earnest 
 with God for His watching over them and conducting of them. 
 Make my ways stra'ujht, says David, because of mine enemies 
 (Psal. V. 8) : the word is, my observers, or those that scan my 
 ways, every foot of them, that examine them as a verse, or as a 
 song of music ; if there be but a wrong measure in them, they 
 will not let it slip, but will be sure to mark it. 
 
 And if the enemies of the godly wait for their halting, shall 
 not they scan their own paths themselves, that they may not 
 halt ? Shall they not examine them to order them, as the 
 wicked do to censure them : still depending wholly upon the 
 Spirit of God as their guide, to lead them into all truth, and 
 to teach them how to order their conversation aright, that it 
 may be all of a piece, holy and blameless, and still like itself? 
 
 Honest.'] Fair or beautiful : the same word doth fitly signify 
 goodness and beauty, for that which is the truest and most 
 lasting beauty, grows fresher in old age, as the Psalmist speaks 
 of the righteous, those that be planted in the house of God 
 (Psal. xcii. 12 — 14). Could the beauty of virtue be seen, said 
 a philosopher, it would draw all to love it. A Christian, 
 holy conversation hath such a beauty, that when they who are 
 strangers to it begin to discern it at all aright, they cannot 
 choose but love it ; and where it begets not love, yet it silences 
 calumny, or at least evinces its falsehood. 
 
 The goodness or beauty of a Christian's conversation consist- 
 ing in symmetry and conformity to the word of God as its rule,
 
 286 A COMMEXTARY UPON 
 
 he ought diligently to study that rule, and to square his ways 
 by it ; not to walk at random, but to apply that rule to every 
 step at home and abroad, and to be as careful to keep the beauty 
 of his ways unspotted, as those women are of their faces and 
 attire who are most studious of comeliness. 
 
 But so far are we who call ourselves Christians from this 
 exact regard of our conversation, that the most part not only 
 have many foul spots, but they themselves, and all their ways, 
 are nothing but defilement, all one spot ; — as our Apostle calls 
 them, blots are they and spots (2 Pet. ii. 13). And even they 
 who are Christians indeed, yet are not so watchful and accurate 
 in all their ways as becomes them, but stain their hoJij profes- 
 sion either with pride, or covetousness, or contentions, or some 
 other such like uncomeliness. 
 
 Let us all therefore resolve more to study this good and 
 comely conversation the Apostle here exhorts to, that it may 
 be such as hecometh the Gospel of Christ, as St. Paul desires 
 his PhiUppians, (ch. i., v. 27.) And if you live amongst pro- 
 fane persons, who will be to you as the unbelieving Gentiles 
 were to these believing Jews who lived amongst them, tradu- 
 cers of you, and given to speak evil of you, and of religion in 
 you, trouble not yourselves with many apologies and clearings, 
 when you are evil-spoken of, but let the track of your life 
 answer for you, your honest and blameless conversation : that 
 will be the shortest, and most real and effectual way of con- 
 futing all obloquies; as when one in the schools was proving 
 by a sophistical argument, that there could be no motion, the 
 philosopher answered it fully and shortly, by rising up and 
 walking. If thou woiildst pay them home, this is a kind of 
 revenge not only allowed thee, but reconnnended to thee ; be 
 avenged on evil speakings by well-doing, shame them from it. 
 It was a king that said, It icas kinglij to do well and t)e ill- 
 spoken (f. Well may Christians acknowledge it to be true, 
 when they consider that it was the lot of their king, Jesus 
 Christ ; and well may they be content, seeing he hath made 
 them likewise kincjs^ (as we heard, ver, 9,) to be conformable
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 287 
 
 to him in this too, this kingly way of sufiering, to be unjustly 
 evil-spoken of, and still to go on in doing the more good ; 
 always aiming, in so doing, (as our Lord did,) at the glory of 
 our Heavenly Father. This is the third thing. 
 
 That they may (jlorify God in the day of their visitation. 
 He says not. They shall praise or commend you, but sludl glo' 
 rify God. In what way soever this time, th\s day of visitation 
 be taken, the effect itself is this, I'key shall glorify God. It is 
 this the Apostle still holds before their eye, as that upon which 
 a Christian doth willingly set his eye, and keep it fixed in all his 
 ways. He doth not teach them to be sensible of their own esteem 
 as it concerns themselves, but only as the glory of their God 
 is interested in it. Were it not for this, a generous-minded 
 Christian could set a very light rate upon all the thoughts and 
 speeches of men concerning him, whether good or bad; and 
 could easily drown all their mistakes in the conscience of the 
 favour and approbation of his God. It is a very small thing 
 for me to be judged of you, or of the day of man : lie that 
 judgeth me, is the Lord. (1 Cor. iv. 3.) Man hath a day of 
 judging, but it, and his judgment with it, soon passes away ; 
 but God hath His day, and it, together with His sentence, 
 abideth for ever, as the Apostle there adds. As if he should 
 say, I appeal to God; but considering that the religion he 
 professes, and the God Avhom he worships in that religion, are 
 wronged by those reproaches, and that the calumnies cast upon 
 Christians reflect upon their Lord, this is the thing that 
 makes him sensible ; he feels on that side only. The reproaches 
 of them that reproached thee, are fallen upon me, says the 
 Psalmist : and this makes a Christian desirous to vindicate, 
 even to men, his religion and his God, without regard to him- 
 self; because he may say, the reproaches of them that reproach 
 only me, have fallen upon Thee. (Psal. Ixix. 9.) 
 
 This is his intent in the holiness and integrity of his life, 
 that God may be glorified ; this is the axis about which all 
 this good conversation moves and turns continually. 
 
 And he that forgets this, let his conversation be never so
 
 288 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 plausible and spotless, knows not what it is to be a Christian. 
 As they say of the eagles, who try their young ones, whether 
 they be of the right kind or not, by holding them before the 
 sun, and if they can look steadfastly upon it, they own them, 
 if not, they throw them away : this is the true evidence of an 
 upright and real Christian, to have a steadfast eye on the glory 
 of God, the Father of Lights. In all, let God be glorified, 
 says the Christian, and that suffices : that is the sum of his 
 desires. He is far from glorying in himself, or seekin to raise 
 himself, for he knows that of himself he is nothing, but by the 
 free ijrace of God lie is icliat he is. " Whence any glorying 
 to thee, rottenness and dust ?" says St. Bernard. " Whence is 
 it to thee, if thou art hol}^ ? Is it not the Ploly Spirit that hath 
 sanctified thee ? If thou couldst work miracles, though they 
 were done by thy hand, yet it were not by thy power, but by 
 the power of God." 
 
 To the end that my glory may sing praise unto tJiee, says 
 David (Psal. xxx. 12^. Whether his tongue, or his soul, or 
 both, be meant, what he calls Jiis glory, he shews us, and 
 what use he hath for it, namely, to give the Lord glory, to sing 
 His praises, and that then it was truly David's glory when it 
 was so employed, in giving glory to Him whose peculiar due 
 glory is. What have we to do in the world as His creatures, 
 once and again His creatures, His new creatures, created unto 
 good works, but to exercise ourselves in those, and by those to 
 advance His glory, that all may return to Him from whom all 
 is, as the rivers run back to the sea from whence they came ? 
 Of Him and through Him, and thcrcforQ, for Him are all 
 things, says the Apostle (Rom. xi. 36.) They that serve base 
 gods, seek how to advance and aggrandize them. The covetous 
 man studies to make his Mammon as great as he can, all his 
 thoughts and pains run ujion that service, and so do the volup- 
 tuous and anibitious for theirs ; and shall not they who profess 
 themselves to be the servants of the Only Great and the Only 
 True God, have their hearts much more, at least as much, pos- 
 sessed with desires of honouring and exalting Him? Should
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 289 
 
 not this be their predominant design and thought ? — Wiiat 
 way shall I most advance the glory of my God ? How shall I, 
 who am under stronger obligations tiian they all, set in with 
 the heavens and the earth, and the other creatures, to declare 
 Plis excellency, His greatness, and His goodness ? 
 
 In the day of vintatwn.~\ The beholding of your good 
 works may work this in them, that they may be gained to ac- 
 knowledge and embrace that religion, and that God, which 
 for the present they reject; but that it may be thus, they 
 must be visited with that same light and grace from above, 
 which hath sanctified you. This, I conceive, is the sense of 
 this word, though it may be, and is, taken divers other ways by 
 interpreters. Possibly, in this day of visitation is implied the 
 clearer preaching of the Gospel amongst those Gentiles, where 
 the dispersed Jews dwelt ; and that when they should compare 
 the light of that doctrine with the light of their lives, and find 
 the agreement betwixt them, that might be helpful to their 
 effectual calling, and so they might glorify God. But to the 
 end that they might do thus indeed, there must be, along with 
 the word of God, and the good works of his people, a particu- 
 lar visiting of their souls by the Spirit of God. Your good 
 conversation may be one good mean of their conversion ; 
 therefore this may be a motive to that ; but to make it an 
 effectual mean, this day of gracious visitation must dawn upon 
 them ; the day-spring from on hiyh must visit them, as it is 
 Luke i. 7, 8. 
 
 Ver. 13. Submit yourselves unto every ordinance of man for the Lord's 
 sake, whether it be to the King, as supreme, 
 
 Ver. 14. Or unto governors, as unto them that are sent by him for the 
 punishment of evil-doers, and for the praise of them that do well. 
 
 It is one of the falsest, and yet one of the commonest preju- 
 dices that the world hath always entertained against true 
 religion, that it is an enemy to civil power and government. 
 The adversaries of the Jews charged this fault upon their city, 
 the then seat of the true worship of God (Ezra iv. 15). The 
 
 Vol. I. U
 
 290 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 Jews charged it upon the preachers of the Christian religion, 
 (Acts xvii. 7,) as they pretended the same quarrel against Christ 
 himself. And generally, the enemies of the Christians of pri- 
 mitive times, loaded them with the slander of rebellion and 
 contempt of authority. Therefore our Apostle, descending to 
 particular rules of Christian life, by which it may be blameless, 
 and silence calumny, begins with this, not only as a thing of 
 prime importance in itself, but as particularly fit for those he 
 wrote to, being at once both Jews and Christians, for the clear- 
 ing of themselves and their religion : Submit yourselves, &c. 
 
 There are in the words divers particulars to be considered, 
 all concurring to press this main duty of obedience to magis- 
 trates, not only as well consistent with true religion, but as in- 
 deed inseparable from it. Not to parcel out the words into 
 many pieces, they may, I conceive, be all not unfitly comprised 
 under these two : 1. The extent of this duty : 2. The ground 
 of it. 
 
 1. The extent of the duty, viz., To all civil power, of what 
 kind soever, for the time received and authorised ; there being 
 no need of questioning what was the rise and original of civil 
 power, either in the nature of it, or in the persons of those that 
 are in possession of it. For if you will trace them quite through 
 in the succession of ages, and narrowly eye their whole circle, 
 there be few crowns in the world, in which there will not be 
 found some crack or other, more or less. If you look on those 
 great monarchies in Daniel's vision, you see one of them built 
 up upon the ruins of another ; and all of them represented by 
 terrible devouring beasts of monstrous shape. And whether 
 the Roman empire be the fourth there, as many take it, or not, 
 yet, in the things spoken of that fourth, as well as of the rest, 
 it is inferior to none of them, enlarging itself by conquests in 
 all parts of the world. And under it were the provinces to 
 which this epistle is addressed ; yet the Apostle enjoins his 
 brethren subjection and obedience to its authority. 
 
 Nor is it a question so to be moved as to suspend, or at all 
 abate, our obedience to that which possesses in the present
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 291 
 
 where we live, what form of government is most just and com- 
 modious. 
 
 God hath indeed been more express in the oflicers and go- 
 vernment of his own house, his Church ; but civil societies he 
 hath left at liberty, in the choosing and modelling of civil go- 
 vernment, though always, indeed, over-ruling their choice and 
 changes in that, by the secret hand of His wise and powerful 
 providence. Yet he hath set them no particular rule touching 
 the frame of it ; only the common rule of equity and justice 
 ought to be regarded, both in the contriving and managing of 
 government. Nevertheless, though it be some way defective 
 in both, those that are subject to it, are in all things lawful to 
 submit to its authority, whether supreme or subordinate ; as 
 we have it here expressly. Whether to the king as supreme, 
 (namely, to the Emperor,) or to the governors sent by him ; — 
 which though a judicious interpreter refers to God, and will 
 not admit of any other sense, yet it seems most suitable both to 
 the words, and to the nature of the government of those pro- 
 vinces, to take that word To him, as relating to the king ; for 
 the expression, them that are sent, answers to the other, the 
 king as supreme, and so is a very clear designation of the in- 
 ferior governors of those times and places. And whatsoever 
 was their end who sent them, and their carriage who were sent, 
 that which the Apostle adds, expresses the end for which they 
 should be sent to govern, and at which they should aim in go- 
 verning, as the true end of all government. And though they 
 were not fully true to that end in their deportment, but pos- 
 sibly did many things unjustly, yet, as God hath ordained 
 authority for this end, there is always so much justice in the 
 most depraved government, as renders it a public good, and 
 therefore puts upon inferiors an obligation to obedience : and 
 this leads us to consider, 
 
 2dly, The ground of this duty. The main ground of sub- 
 mitting to human authority, is the interest that Divine autho- 
 rity hath in it, God having both appointed civil government as 
 a common good amongst men, and particularly commanded his 
 
 u 2
 
 292 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 people obedience to it, as a particular good to them, and a thing 
 very suitable with their profession : it is for the Lord's sake. 
 This word carries the whole weight of the duty, and is a 
 counter-balance to the former, Avhich seems to be therefore on 
 purpose so expressed, that this may answer it. Although civil 
 authority, in regard of particular forms of government, and 
 the choice of particular persons to govern, is but a human ordi- 
 nance, or man's creature, as the word is, yet, both the good of 
 government, and the duty of subjection to it, are God's ordi- 
 nance ; and therefore,/or His sake submit yourselves. 
 
 [1.] God hath in general instituted civil government for the 
 good of human society, and still there is good in it. Tyranny 
 is better than anarchy. [2.] It is by His providence that men 
 are advanced to places of authority. (See Psal. Ixxv. 6, 7 ; 
 Dan. iv. 25 ; John xix. 11.) [3.] It is His command, that obe- 
 dience be yielded to them, (Horn. xiii. 1 ; Tit. iii. 1, &c.) 
 And the consideration of this ties a Christian to all loyalty and 
 due obedience, which, being still for the Lord's sake, cannot 
 liold in anything that is against the Lord's own command ; for 
 kings and rulers, in such a case, leave their station. Now the 
 subjection here enjoined is, vTtorxyriTe, Be subject to them, as 
 it were in your rank, still in subordination to God ; but if they 
 go out of that even line, follow them not. They that obey the 
 unlawful commands of kings, do it in regard to their tjod, no 
 question but that their god is their belly, or their ambition, or 
 their avarice. 
 
 But not only ought the exercise of authority, and submission 
 to it, to be confined to things just and lawful in themselves, but 
 the very purpose of the heart, both in command and obedience, 
 should be in the Lord, and for His sake. This is the only 
 straight, and the only safe rule, both for rulers and for people 
 to walk by. AVould Kings and the other Powers of the world 
 consider the supremacy and greatness of that King of whom 
 they hold all their crowns and dignities, they would be no less 
 careful of their submission and homage to Him, than they are 
 desirous of their people's submission to themselves.
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETER. 293 
 
 I will not speak at all of their civil obligations to their people, 
 and the covenant of justice that M'ith good reason is betwixt 
 them in the fundamental constitutions of all well-ordered king- 
 doms ; nor meddle with that point, — the dependence that human 
 authority hath upon the societies of men over whom it is, ac- 
 cording to which it is here called man's ordinance, or rrcuture, 
 avQgwTr/vT) KTiijii. This is a thing that the greatest and most 
 absolute of princes cannot deny, that all their authority is de- 
 pendent upon the great God, both as the Author of it in the 
 general, and the sovereign Disposer of it to particular men, giv- 
 ing the kingdoms of the earth to whom He will. (Dan. iv. 25.) 
 And therefore He may most justly require obedience and fealty 
 of them, that they serve the Lord in fear, and if they rejoice in 
 their dignities over men, yet that they do it with trembling^ 
 under a sense of their duty to God, and that they throw down 
 their crowns at the feet of Christ, the Lord's anointed. 
 
 And to this they are the more obliged, considering that 
 religion and the Gospel of Christ do so much press the duty 
 of their people's obedience to them ; so that they wrong both 
 Christianity and themselves very far, in mistaking it as an 
 enemy to their authority, when it is so far from prejudicing it, 
 that it confirms it, and pleads for it. Surely they do most 
 ungratefully requite the Lord and His Christ, when they say, 
 (as Psal. ii.,) Let us break their bands asunder, and cast 
 away their cords from us. Whereas the Lord binds the cords 
 of kings and their authority fast upon their people ; not the 
 cords of tyranny indeed, to bind the subjects as beasts to be 
 sacrifices to the passion of their rulers, but the cords of just 
 and due obedience to their kings and governors. The Lord 
 doth (as you see here) bind it upon all that profess His name, 
 and strengthens it by the respect His people carry to Himself, 
 enjoining them that, /or His sake, they would obey their rulers. 
 So that kings need not fear true rehgion, that it will ever favour 
 any thing that can justly be called rebellion ; on the contrary, 
 it still urges loyalty and obedience : so that as they ought in 
 duty, they may in true policy and Avisdom, befriend true
 
 294 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 religion, as a special friend to their authority, and hate that 
 religion of Rome which is indeed rebellion, and that mother of 
 abominations who makes the kings of the earth drunk with 
 her cup, and makes them dream of increase of authority while 
 they are truly on the losing hand. But besides that they owe 
 their power to the advancement of Christ's kingdom, by so 
 employing themselves as to strengthen it, they do themselves 
 good ; they confirm their own thrones, when they erect His : 
 as it was said of Caesar, that by setting up Pompey's statue, 
 he settled and fastened his own. 
 
 But it is an evil too natural to men, to forget the true end 
 and use of any good the Lord confers on them. And thus 
 kings and rulers too often consider not for what they are 
 exalted ; they think it is for themselves, to honour and please 
 themselves, and not to honour God, and benefit their people, to 
 encourage and reward the good, (as here it is,) and to punish 
 the wicked. They are set on high for the good of those that 
 are below them, that they may be refreshed Avith their lio-ht 
 and influence ; as the lights of Heaven are set there in the 
 highest parts of the world, for the use and benefit of the very 
 lowest. God set them in the firmament of Heaven, but to 
 what end.? To give light upon the earth. (Gen. i. 15.) And 
 the mountains are raised above the rest of the earth, not to be 
 places of prey and robbery, as sometimes they are turned to 
 be, but to send forth streams from their springs into the valleys, 
 and make them fertile; these mountains and hills (greater and 
 lesser rulers, higher and lower) are to send forth to the people 
 the streams of righteousness and peace. (Psal. Ixxii. 31.) 
 
 But it is the corruption and misery of man's nature, that he 
 doth not know, and can hardly be persuaded to learn, either 
 how to command aright, or how to obey ; and no doubt many 
 of those that can see and blame the injustice of others in 
 authority, would be more guilty that way themselves, if they 
 had the same power. 
 
 It is the pride and self-love of our nature, that begets dis- 
 obedience in inferiors, and violence and injustice in superiors ;
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 295 
 
 that depraved humour which ties to every kind of government 
 a propension to a particular disease ; which makes royalty 
 easily degenerate into tyranny, the government of nobles into 
 faction, and popular government into confusion. 
 
 As civil authority, and subjection to it, are the institution 
 of God, so the peaceable correspondence of these two, just 
 government and due obedience, is the special gift of God's own 
 hand, and a prime blessing to states and kingdoms ; and the 
 troubling and interruption of their course is one of the highest 
 public judgments by which the Lord punishes oftentimes the 
 other sins both of rulers and people. And whatsoever be the 
 cause, and on which side soever be the justice of the cause, it 
 cannot be looked upon but as a heavy plague, and the fruit of 
 many and great provocations, when kings and their people, 
 who should be a mutual blessing and honour to each other, 
 are turned into scourges one to another, or into a devouring 
 fire ; as it is in the parable ( Judg. ix. 20) : Fire going forth 
 from Abimelech to devour the men of Shechem, and fire from 
 Shechem to devour Abimelech. 
 
 Ver. 15. For so is the will of God, that with well doing ye may put to 
 silence the ignorance of foolish men. 
 
 Ver. 16. As free, and not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, 
 but as the servants of God. 
 
 This continues the same reason of the same Christian duty : 
 if they will obey the Lord, then they must obey civil powers, 
 for that is His will, and they will not deny their obligation to 
 Him, for they are His servants (v. 16). The words, indeed, 
 are more general than the former, but they relate chiefly, in 
 this place, to the particular in hand, implying that neither in 
 that kind, nor in any other. Christians should dishonour their 
 profession, and abuse their liberty, mistaking it as an exemption 
 from those duties to which it doth more straightly tie them. 
 So then, the point of civil obedience, and all other good con- 
 versation amongst men, is here recommended to Christians, as 
 conformable to the will of God, and the most effectual clearing
 
 296 A. COMMENTARY UTON 
 
 of their profession, and very agreeable to their Christian 
 liberty. 
 
 The will of Godl] This is tlie strongest and most binding 
 reason that can be used to a Christian mind, wliicli hath re- 
 signed itself to be governed by that rule, to have the will 
 of God for its law. Whatsoever is required of it upon that 
 warrant, it cannot refuse. Although it cross a man's own 
 humour, or his private interest, yet, if his heart be subjected 
 to the will of God, he will not stand with Him in any thing. 
 One word from God, / will have it so, silences all, and carries 
 it against all opposition. 
 
 It were a great point, if we could be persuaded to esteem 
 duly of this : it were indeed all. It would make light and 
 easy work in those things that go so hardly on with us, though 
 we are daily exhorted to them. Is it the will of God that I 
 should live soberly ? Then, though my own corrupt will and 
 my companions be against it, yet it must be so. Wills He 
 that I forbear cursing and oaths, though it is ray custom to use 
 them ? Yet I must offer violence to my custom, and go against 
 the stream of all their customs that are round about me, to 
 obey His will, who wills all things justly and holily. Will 
 He have my charity not only liberal in giving, but in forgiving, 
 and real and hearty in both ? Will He have me bless them that 
 curse me, and do good to them that hate me, and love mine 
 enemies 9 Though the world counts it a hard task, and my 
 own corrupt heart possibly finds it so, yet it shall be done ; 
 and not as upon impleasant necessity, but willingly, and cheer- 
 fully, and with the more delight because it is difficult ; for so 
 it proves my obedience the more, and my love to Him whose 
 Avill it is. Though mine enemies deserve not my love, yet He 
 who bids me love them, does ; and if He will have this the 
 touchstone to try the uprightness of my love to Him, shall it 
 fail there? No, His will commands me so absolutely, and He 
 Himself is so lovely, that there can be nobody so unlovely in 
 themselves, or to mc, but I can love them upon His command, 
 and for His sake.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 297 
 
 But that it may be thus, there must be a renewed frame of 
 mind, by whicli a man may renounce the world and the forms 
 of it, and himself, and his own sinful heart, and its way, to 
 study and follow the only good, and acceptable, and perfect 
 will of God, (Rom. xii. 2,) to move most in that line, not 
 "wiUingly declining to either hand, to have his whole mind taken 
 up in searching it, and his whole heart in embracing it. Be ye 
 not unwise, but understanding ivhat the ivill of the Lord is, 
 says the Apostle Paul, (Eph. v. 17,) being about to exhort to 
 particular duties, as our Apostle here is doing. 
 
 This is the task of a Christian, to understand his Lord's will, 
 and with a practical understanding, that he may walk in all well 
 pleasing unto God. Thus the Apostle likewise exhorts the 
 Thessalonians pathetically, (1 Ep. ch. iv., v. 1,) and adds, This 
 is the will of God, even your sancfifcation. And he then pro- 
 ceeds particularly against uncleanness and deceit, &c. 
 
 Let this, then, be your endeavour, to have your wills cruci- 
 fied to whatsoever is sinful, yea to will outward indifferent 
 things with a kind of indifFerency. The most things that men 
 are so stiff in, are not worth an earnest willing. In a word, it 
 were the only happy and truly spiritual temper to have our 
 will quite rooted out, and the will of God placed in its stead ; 
 to have no other will than His, that it might constantly, yea 
 (so to speak) identically, follow it in all things. This is the will 
 of God, therefore it is mine. 
 
 IViat with ivell doing ye may put to silence the ignorance 
 of foolish men.] The duties of the Second Table, or of well 
 doing towards men, are more obvious to men devoid of religion, 
 than those that have an immediate relation to God ; and there- 
 fore (as in other Epistles) the Apostle is here particular in 
 these, for the vindicating of religion to them that are without. 
 Ignorance usually is loud and prattling, making a mighty noise, 
 and so hath need of a muzzle to silence it, as the word (ptixouv 
 imports. They that were ready to speak evil of religion, are 
 called witless or foolish men ; there was perverseness in their 
 ignorance, as the word cc(p6vm intimates. And generally, all
 
 298 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 kinds of evil speakings and uncharitable censurings, do argue 
 a foolish, worthless mind whence they proceed ; and yet, they 
 are the usual divertisement of the greatest part of mankind, 
 and take up very much of their converse and discourse ; which 
 is an evidence of the baseness and perverseness of their minds. 
 For, whereas those that have most real goodness, delight most 
 to observe what is good and commendable in others, and to 
 pass by their blemishes, it is the true character of vile unworthy 
 persons, (as scurvy flies sit upon sores,) to skip over all the 
 good that is in men, and fasten upon their infirmities. 
 
 But especially doth it discover ignorance and folly, to turn 
 the failings of men to the disadvantage of religion. None can 
 be such enemies to it but they that know it not, and see not 
 the beauty that is in it. However, the way to silence them, we 
 see, is by trell doing ; that silences them more than whole vo- 
 lumes of Apologies. When a Christian walks irreprovably, 
 his enemies have nowhere to fasten their teeth on him, but are 
 forced to gnaw their own malignant tongues. As it secures the 
 godly, thus to stop the lying mouths of foolish men, so it is as 
 painful to them to be thus stopped as muzzling is to beasts, 
 and it punishes their malice. 
 
 And this is a wise Christian''s way, instead of impatiently 
 fretting at the mistakes or wilful miscensures of men, to keep 
 still on his calm temper of mind, and upright course of life, 
 and silent innocence; this, as a rock, breaks the waves into 
 foam that roar about it. 
 
 As free.'] This, the Apostle adds, lest any should so far 
 mistake the nature of their Christian liberty, as to dream of an 
 exemption from obedience either to God, or to men for His 
 sake, and according to His appointment. Their freedom he 
 grants, but would have them understand aright what it is. I 
 cannot here insist at large on the spiritual freedom of Christians ; 
 nor is it here needful, being mentioned only for the clearing of 
 it in this point ; but free they are, and they only, who are par- 
 takers of this liberty. If the Son make you free, you shall be 
 free indeed. (John viii. 36.) The rest arc slaves to Satan, and
 
 THE FIRST EriSTLE OF PETEK. S99 
 
 tlic world and their own lusts ; as the Israelites in Egypt, 
 working in the clay under hard task-masters. 
 
 Much discourse hath been spent, and much ink hath been 
 spilt upon the debate of free-will, but truly, all the liberty it 
 hath, till the Son and His Spirit free it, is that miserable free- 
 dom the Apostle speaks of, Horn. vi. 20, While ye were servants 
 to sin, ye were free from riyhteousness. 
 
 And as we are naturally subject to the vile drudgery of sin, 
 so we are condemned to the proper wages of sin, which the 
 Apostle there tells us is death, according to the just sentence 
 of the Law. But our Lord Christ was anointed for this pur- 
 pose, to set us free, both to work and to publish liberty, to 
 jjroclaim liberty to captives, and the opening of the prison- 
 doors to them that are bound. (Isa. Ixi. 1.) Having paid our 
 complete ransom, He sends His word as the message, and His 
 Spirit to perform it effectually, to set us free, to let us know it, 
 and to bring us out of prison. He was bound and scourged, as 
 a slave or malefactor, to purchase us this liberty ; therefore 
 ought it to be our special care, first, to have part in it, and then 
 to be like it, and standfast in it in all points. 
 
 But that we deceive not ourselves, as too many do who have 
 no portion in this liberty, we ought to know that it is not to 
 inordinate walking and licentiousness, as our liberty, that we 
 are called, hut from them, as our thraldom ; we are not called 
 from obedience, but to it. Therefore beware that you shuffle 
 in, under this specious name of liberty, nothing that belongs not 
 to it. Make it not a cloak of maliciousness ; it is too precious 
 a garment for so base a use. Liberty is indeed Christ's livery 
 that he gives to all his followers ; but to live suitably to it, is 
 not to live in wickedness or disobedience of any kind, but in 
 obedience and holiness. You are called to be the servants of 
 God, and that is your dignity and your liberty. 
 
 The Apostles of this Gospel of liberty gloried in this title, 
 The servants of Jesus Christ. David before that Psalm of 
 praise for his victories and exaltations, being now settled on his 
 throne, prefixes, as more honour than all these, A Psalm of
 
 300 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 David f the servant of ihc Lord (Psal. xviii. 1). It is the only 
 true liappiness both of kings and their subjects, to be His sub- 
 jects. It is the glory of the angels, to be His ministering 
 spirits. The more we attain unto the faculty of serving Him 
 cheerfully and diligently, the more still we find of this spiritual 
 liberty, and have the more joy in it. As it is the most honour- 
 able, it is likewise the most comfortable and most gainful service; 
 and they that once know it, will never change it for any other 
 in the world. Oh ! that we could live as His servants, employ- 
 ing all our industry to do Him service in the condition and 
 place wherein He hath set us, whatsoever it is, and as faidiful 
 servants, more careful of his affairs than of our own, accounting 
 it our main business to seek the advancement of his glory. 
 Happy is the servant ivhom the Master, when he comethy shall 
 find so doing. (Matth. xxiv. 46.) 
 
 Ver. 17, Honour all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honour 
 
 the king-. 
 
 This is a precious cluster of Divine precepts. The whole face 
 of the heavens is adorned with stars, but they are of different 
 magnitudes, and in some parts they are thicker set than in 
 others : thus is it likewise in the holy Scriptures. And these 
 are the two books that the Psalmist sets open before us (Psalm 
 xix.) ; the heavens, as a choice piece of the worksof God, instruct- 
 ing us, and the word of God, more full and clear than they. 
 Here is a constellation of very bright stars near together. These 
 words have very briefly, and yet not obscured by briefness, but 
 withal very plainly, the sum of our duty towards God and men; 
 to men both in general. Honour all men, and in special rela- 
 tions, — in their Christian or religious i-elation. Love the brother- 
 hood, and in a chief civil relation. Honour the king. And 
 our whole duty to God, comprised under the name of His fear, 
 is set in the middle betwixt these, as the conmion spring of all 
 duty to men, and of all due observance of it, and the sovereign 
 rule by which it is to be regulated. 
 
 I shall speak of them as they lie in the text. AVe need not
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 301 
 
 labour about tlic connexion; for in sucli variety of brief practi- 
 cal directions, it hath not such places as in doctrinal discourses. 
 The Apostle having spoken of one particular wherein he would 
 have his brethren to clear and commend their Christian profes- 
 sion, now accumulates these directions as most necessary, and 
 afterwards goes on to particular duties of servants, &c. But 
 first observe, in general, how plain and easy, and how few are 
 those things that are the rule of our life ; no dark sentences to 
 puzzle the understanding, nor large discourses and long periods 
 to burden the memory ; they are all plain ; there is nothing 
 wreathed nor distorted in them, as Wisdom speaks of her 
 instructions, Prov. vill. 8. 
 
 And this gives check to a double folly amongst men, contrary 
 the one to the other, but both agreeing in mistaking and wrong- 
 ing the w^ord of God ; the one is of those that despise the word, 
 and that doctrine and preaching that is conformable to it, for 
 its plainness and simplicity ; the other of those that complain 
 of its difficulty and darkness. As for the first, they certainly 
 do not take the true end for which the word is designed, that 
 it is the law of our life ; (and it is mainly requisite in laws, 
 that they be both brief and clear ;) that it is our guide and 
 light to happiness ; and if that Avhich ought to be our liyht, be 
 darkness, how great will that darkness be ! 
 
 It is true, (but I am not now to insist on this point,) that 
 there be dark and deep passages in Scripture, for the exercise, 
 yea, for the humbling, yea, for the amazing and astonishing of 
 the sharpest-sighted readers. But this argues much the pride 
 and vanity of men's minds, when they busy themselves only in 
 those, and throw aside altogether the most necessary, which 
 are therefore the easiest and plainest truths in it. As in na- 
 ture, the commodities that are of greatest necessity God hath 
 made most common and easiest to be had, so, in religion, such 
 instructions as these now in our hands, are given us to live and 
 walk by ; and in the search of things that are more obscure, and 
 less useful, men evidence that they had rather be learned than 
 holy, and have still more mind to the tree of knowledge than
 
 302 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 the tree of life. And in hearing of the word, are not they who 
 are any wliit more knowing than ordinary, still gaping after new 
 notions, after something to add to the stock of their speculative 
 and discoursing knowledge, loathing this daily manna, these 
 profitable exhortations, and requiring meat for their lust 9 
 There is an intemperance of the mind, as well as of the mouth. 
 You would think it, and, may be, not spare to call it, a poor 
 cold sermon, that were made up of such plain precepts as these. 
 Honour all men ; love the brotherhood ; fear God ; honour 
 the king ; and yet, this is the language of God, it is His way, 
 this foolish despicable way, by which He guides and brings to 
 heaven them that believe. 
 
 Again, we have others that are still complaining of the diffi- 
 culty and darkness of the word of God and Divine truths ; to 
 say nothing of Rome's doctrine, who talks thus, in order to ex- 
 cuse her sacrilege of stealing away the word from the people of 
 God ; (a senseless pretext though it were true ; because the 
 word is dark of itself, should it therefore be made darker, by 
 locking it up in an unknown tongue ?) but we speak of the 
 common vulgar excuse, Avhich the gross, ignorant profaneness 
 of many seeks to shroud itself under, that they are not learned, 
 and cannot reach the doctrine of the Scriptures. There be deep 
 mysteries there indeed: but what say you to these things, 
 such rules as these. Honour all men, &c. ? Are such as these 
 riddles, that you cannot know their meaning ? Rather, do not 
 all understand them, and all neglect them ? Why set you not 
 on to do these ? and then you should understand more. A good 
 understanding have all they that do His commandments, says 
 the Psalmist (Psal. cxi. 10). As one said well, " The best way 
 to understand the mysterious and high discourse in the begin- 
 ning of St. Paul's Epistles, is, to begin at tlie practice of those 
 rules and precepts that arc in the latter end of them." The 
 way to attain to know more is to receive the truth in the love 
 of it, and to obey what you know. The truth is, such truths 
 as these will leave you inexcusable, even the most ignorant of 
 you. You cannot but know, you hear often, that you ought to
 
 THE FIBST EPISTLE OF PETER. 808 
 
 love one another, and to fear God, &c., and yet, you never 
 apply yourselves in earnest to the practice of these things, as 
 will appear to your own consciences, if they deal honestly with 
 you in the particulars. 
 
 Honour all men.'] Honour, in a narrower sense, is not a 
 universal due to all, but pecuhai* to some kinds of persons. Of 
 this the Apostle speaks, (Rom, xiii. 8,) Honour to ichom ho- 
 nour is due, and that in different degrees, to parents, to mas- 
 ters, and other superiors. There is an honour that hath, as it 
 were, Caesar's image and superscription on it, and so is particu- 
 larly due to him ; as here it follows, Honour the king. But 
 there is something that goes not unfitly under the name of 
 honour, generally due to every man without exception ; and it 
 consists, as all honour doth, partly in inward esteem of them, 
 partly in outward behaviour towards them. And the former 
 must be the ground and cause of the latter. 
 
 We owe not the same measure of esteem to all. We mav, 
 yea, we ought to take notice of the different outward quality, 
 or inward graces and gifts of men ; nor is it a fault to perceive 
 the shallowness and weakness of men with whom we converse, 
 and to esteem more highly those on whom God hath conferred 
 more of such things as are truly worthy of esteem. But unto 
 the meanest we do owe some measure of esteem, 1st, Nega- 
 tively. We are not to entertain despising, disdainful thoughts 
 of any, how worthless and mean soever. As the admiring of 
 men, the very best, is a foolish excess on the one hand, so, the 
 total contemning of any, the very poorest, is against this rule 
 on the other ; for that contemning of vile persons, the Psalmist 
 speaks of, (Psal. xv. 3,) and commends, is the dislike and hatred 
 of their sin, which is their vileness, and the not accounting 
 them, for outward respects, worthy of such esteem as their 
 wickedness does, as it were, strip them of. 2dlv, We arc to 
 observe and respect the smallest good that is in anv. Although 
 a Christian be never so base in his outward condition, in body 
 or mind, of very mean intellectuals and natural endowments,
 
 804 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 yet, tliey Avho know the worth of spiritual things, will esteem 
 the grace of God that is in him, in the midst of all those dis- 
 advantages, as a pearl in a rough shell, Grace carries still its 
 own worth, though under a deformed body and ragged gar- 
 ments, yea, though they have but a small measure of that neither 
 • — the very lowest degree of grace ; as a pearl of the least size, 
 or a small piece of gold, yet men will not throw it away, but, as 
 they say, the least shavings of gold are Avorth the keeping. 
 The Jews would not willingly tread upon the smallest piece of 
 paper in their way, but took it up ; for possibly, said they, 
 the name of God may be on it. Though there was a little 
 superstition in this, yet truly there is nothing but good religion 
 in it, if we apply it to men. Trample not on any ; there may 
 be some work of grace there, that thou knowest not of. The 
 name of God may be written upon that soul thou treadest on ; 
 it may be a soul that Christ thought so much of, as to give 
 His precious blood for it ; therefore despise it not. Much 
 more, I say, if thou canst perceive any appearance that it is 
 such a one, oughtest thou to esteem it. Wheresoever thou 
 findest the least trait of Christ's image, if thou lovest Him, 
 thou wilt honour it ; or if there be nothing of this to be found 
 in him thou lookest on, yet observe w'hat common gift of any 
 kind God hath bestowed on him, judgment, or memory, or 
 faculty in his calling, or any such thing, for these in their de- 
 gree are to be esteemed, and the person for them. And as 
 there is no man so complete as to liave the advantage in every 
 thing, so there is no man so low and unworthy but he hath 
 something wherein he is preferable even to those that in other 
 respects are much more excellent. Or imagine thou canst find 
 nothing else in some men, yet honour thy own nature ; esteem 
 humanity in them, especially since humanity is exalted in 
 Christ to be one with the Deity : account of the individual as 
 a man. And, along with this esteem goes, 3dly, that general 
 good will and affection due to men : whereas there are many 
 who do not only outwardly express, but inwardly bear more
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF TETER. 305 
 
 regard to some dog or horse that tliey love, than to poor dis- 
 tressed men, and in so doing-, do reflect dishonour upon them- 
 selves, and upon mankind. 
 
 The outward behaviour wlicrein we owe honour to all, is 
 nothing but a conformity to this inward temper of mind ; for 
 he that inwardly despiseth none, but esteemeth the good that 
 is in the lowest, or at least esteemeth them in that they are 
 men, and loves them as such, will accordingly use no outward 
 sign of disdain of any ; he will not have a scornful eye, nor a 
 reproachful tongue to move at any, not the meanest of his ser- 
 vants, nor the worst of his enemies ; but, on the contrary, will 
 acknowledge the good that is in every man, and give unto all 
 that outward respect that is convenient for them, and that 
 they are capable of, and will be ready to do them good as he 
 hath opportunity and ability. 
 
 But instead of walking by this rule of honouriny all men, 
 Avhat is there almost to be found amongst men, but a perverse 
 proneness to dishonour one another, and every man ready to 
 dishonour all men, that he may honour himself, reckoning that 
 what he gives to others is lost to himself, and taking what he 
 detracts from others, as good booty to make up himself? Set 
 aside men's own interest, and that common civility which for 
 their own credit they use one with another, and truly there will 
 be found very little of this real respect to others, proceeding 
 from obedience to God and love to men, — little disposition to 
 be tender of their reputation and good name, and their welfare 
 as of our own, (for so the rule is,) but we shall find mutual 
 disesteem and defamation filling almost all societies. 
 
 And the bitter root of this iniquity is, that wicked, ac- 
 cursed self-love, which dwells in us. Every man is naturally 
 his own grand idol, would be esteemed and honoured by any 
 means, and to magnify that idol self, kills the good name and 
 esteem of others in sacrifice to it. Hence, the narrow observ- 
 ing eye and broad speaking tongue, upon any thing that tends 
 to the dishonour of others ; and where other things fail, the 
 disdainful upbraiding of their birth, or calling, or any thing that 
 
 Vol. I. X
 
 306 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 comes next to hand, serves for a reproach. And hence arises a 
 great part of the jars and strifes amongst men, the most part 
 being drunk with an over-weening opinion of themselves, and 
 the unworthiest the most so; The sluggard, says Solomon, 
 is wiser in his own conceit than seven men that can render a 
 reason (Prov. xxvi. 16) ; and not finding others of their mind, 
 this frets and troubles them. They take the ready course to 
 deceive themselves ; for they look with both eyes on the fail- 
 ings and defects of others, and scarcely give their good quali- 
 ties half an eye ; while, on the contrary, in themselves they 
 study to the full their own advantages, and their weaknesses 
 and defects (as one says) they skip over, as children do the 
 hard words in their lesson, that are troublesome to read ; and 
 making this uneven parallel, what wonder if the result be a 
 gross mistake of themselves .' Men over-rate themselves at 
 home ; they reckon that they ought to be regarded, and that 
 their mind should carry it ; and when they come abroad, and 
 are crossed in this, this puts them out of all temper. 
 
 But the humble man, as he is more conformable to this Di- 
 vine rule, so he hath more peace by it : for he sets so low a 
 rate upon himself in his own thoughts, that it is scarcely pos- 
 sible for any to go lower in judging of him ; and therefore, as 
 he pays due respect to others to the full, and gives no ground 
 of quarrel that way, so he challenges no such debt to himself, 
 and thus avoids the usual contests that arise in this. Only by 
 pride comes conteniion, says Solomon (Prov. xiii. 0). A man 
 that will walk abroad in a crowded street, cannot choose but 
 be often jostled ; but he that contracts himself, passes through 
 more easily. 
 
 Study, therefore, this excellent grace of humility ; not the 
 personated acting of it in appearance, which may be a chief 
 agent for pride, but true lowliness of mind, which will make 
 you to be nothing in your own eyes, and content to be so in the 
 eyes of others. Then will you obey this word ; you will esteem 
 all men as is meet, and not be troubled though all men dis- 
 esteem you. As this humility is a precious grace, so it is the
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 307 
 
 preserver of all other graces, and without it, (if they could be 
 without it,) they were but as a box of precious powder carried 
 in the wind without a cover, in danger of being scattered 
 and blown away. If you would have honour, there is an 
 ambition both allowed you, and worthy of you, whosoever 
 you arCj (piXoT^ptou/xsQa ; (Rom. ii. 7; 2 Cor. v. 9;) other 
 honour, though it have its Hebrew name from ivcujlif, is all 
 too light, and weighs only with cares and troubles. 
 
 Love the hrntherhood.^ There is a love, as we said, due to 
 all, included under that word of honouring all, but a peculiar 
 love to our Christian brethren, whom the Apostle Paul calls 
 by a like word, the household of faith, (Gal. vi. 10.) 
 
 Christian brethren are united by a three-fold cord ; two of 
 them are common to other men, but the third is the strongest, 
 and theirs peculiarly. Their bodies are descended of the same 
 man, and their souls of the same God ; but their new life, by 
 which they are most entirely brethren, is derived from the 
 same God-man, Jesus Christ ; yea, in him, they are all one 
 body, receiving life from Him their glorious Head, who is called 
 the first-horn among many brethren. (Rom. viii. 29.) And as 
 His unspeakable love was the source of this new being and 
 fraternity, so doubtless it cannot but produce indissoluble love 
 amongst them that are partakers of it. The spirit of love and 
 concord is that precious ointment that runs down from the head 
 of our great High Priest, to the skirts of His garment. The 
 life of Christ and this law of love are combined, and cannot be 
 severed. Can there be enmity betwixt those hearts that meet 
 in Him ? Why do you pretend yourselves Christians, and yet 
 remain not only strangers to this love, but most contrary to it, 
 biters and devourers one of another, and will not be convinced 
 of the great guiltiness and uncomeliness of strifes and envyings 
 amongst you ? Is this the badge that Christ hath left his bre- 
 thren, to wrangle and malign one another ? Do you not know, 
 on the contrary, that they are to be known by mutual love ! 
 By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, if yd 
 love one another. (John xiii. 35.) How often doth that 
 
 X 2
 
 308 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 beloved disciple press this ! He drank deep of that well-spring 
 of love that was in the breast on which he leaned, and (if they 
 relate aright) he died exhorting this, Love one another. Oh ! 
 that tbere were more of this love of Christ in our hearts, arising 
 from the sense of His love to us ! That would teach this mutual 
 love more effectually, which the preaching of it may set before 
 us, but, -without that other teaching, cannot work within us. 
 Why do we still hear these things in vain ! Do we believe what 
 the love of Christ did to us, and suffered for us ? And will we 
 do nothing for Him, — not forgive a shadow, a fancy of injury, 
 much less a real one, for Plis sake, and love him that wronged 
 us, whoever he be, but especially being one of our brethren in 
 this spiritual sense ? 
 
 Many are the duties of this peculiar fraternal love ; that 
 mutual converse, and admonition, and reproof, and comfort- 
 ing, and other duties which are fallen into neglect, not only 
 amongst formal, but even amongst real Christians. Let us 
 entreat more of His Spirit M'ho is love, and that will remedy 
 this evil. 
 
 Fear Gocl.'\ All the rules of equity and charity amongst men 
 flow from a higher principle, and depend upon it ; and there 
 is no right observing of them without due regard to that; 
 therefore this word, which expresses tiiat principle of obedi- 
 ence, is fitly inserted amongst these rules ; the first obligation 
 of man being to the sovereign majesty of God who made him, 
 and all the mutual duties of one to another being derived from 
 that. A man may indeed, from moral principles, be of a mild 
 inoffensive carriage, and do civil right to all men ; but this 
 answers not the Divine rule even in these same thino-s, after 
 the way that it requires them. The spiritual and religious 
 observance of these duties towards men, springs from a respect 
 to God, and terminates there too; it begins and ends in Him. 
 And generally, all obedience to His commands, both such as 
 regulate our behaviour towards Himself immediately, and 
 such as relate to man, doth arise from a lioly fear of liisname. 
 Therefore, this /ear of God, upon which follows necessarily
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 309 
 
 ihe kooping of His mmmandmonts, is given us by Solomon 
 as the total sum of man's business and duty, Eccl. xii. idt.f 
 and so, the way to solid happiness : he pronounces it totum 
 hominis, the whole of man. After he had made his discove- 
 ries of all things besides under tlic sun, gone the whole cir- 
 cuit, and made an exact valuation^ he found all besides this to 
 amount to nothing hut vanity and vexation of spirit. The 
 account he gives of all other things was only for this purpose, 
 to illustrate and establish this truth the more, and to make it 
 the more acceptable ; to be a repose after so much weariness, 
 and such a tedious journey, and so, as he speaks there, ver. 10, 
 a word of delight as well as a word of truth ; that the mind 
 might sit down and quiet itself in this, from the turmoil and 
 pursuit of vanity, that keeps it busy to no purpose in all other 
 things. But whereas there was emptiness and vanity, that is, 
 just nothing, in all other things, there was not only something 
 to be found, but everything in this one, this fear of God, 
 and that keeping of his commandments, which is the proper 
 fruit of that fear. All the repeated declaring of vanity in 
 other things, both severally and altogether in that book, are 
 but so many strokes to drive and fasten this nail, (as it is 
 there, ver. 11,) this word of wisdom, which is the sum of all, 
 and contains all the rest. So Job, after a large inquest for 
 Avisdom, searching for its vein, as men do for mines of silver 
 and gold, hath the return of a Non inventum est, from all 
 the creatures : The sea says, it is not in me, &c. But in 
 the close, he finds it in this, The fear of the Lord, that is 
 wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is understanding. (Job. 
 xxviii. idt.) 
 
 Under this fear is comprehended all religion, both inward 
 and outward, all the worship and service of God, and all the 
 observance of His commandments, which is there, Eccl. xii. 
 and elsewhere, expressly joined with it, and therefore is in- 
 cluded in it, when it is not expressed. So, Job. xxviii. as above, 
 To depart from evil is understanding, repeating in effect the 
 former words by these. So Psal. cxi. 10. It hath in it all
 
 310 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 holiness, and obedience; they grow all out of it. It is the be- 
 ginninfj, and it is the top or consummation of wisdom, for the 
 word signifies both . 
 
 Think it not, tlien, a trivial, common matter to speak or hear 
 of this subject ; but take it as our great lesson and business 
 here on earth. The best proficients in it have yet need to learn 
 it better, and it requires our incessant diligence and study all 
 our days. 
 
 This fear hath in it chiefly these things : 1 . A reverential 
 esteem of the majesty of God, which is a main, fundamental 
 thing in reUgion, and moulds the heart most powerfully to the 
 obedience of His will. 2. A firm belief of the purity of God, 
 and of His power and justice, that He loves holiness, and hates 
 all sin, and can and will punish it. 3. A right apprehension of 
 the bitterness of His wrath, and the sweetness of His love ; that 
 His incensed ano^er is the most terrible and intolerable thino; in 
 the world, absolutely the most fearful of all evils, and, on the 
 other side, His love, of all good things the best, the most 
 blessed and delightful, yea, the only blessedness. Life is the 
 name of the sweetest good we know, and yet His loving-kind- 
 ness is better than life, says David, (Psal. Ixiii. 3.) 4. It 
 supposes, likewise, sovereign love to God, for His own infinite 
 excellency and goodness. 5. From all these springs a most 
 earnest desire to please Him in all things, and an unwillingness 
 to offend Him in the least, and, because of our danger through 
 the multitude and strength of temptations, and our own weak- 
 ness, a continual self-suspicion, a holy fear lest we should sin, a 
 care and watchfulness that we sin not, and deep sorrow, and 
 speedy returning and humbling before Him, when we have 
 sinned. 
 
 There is, indeed, a base kind of fear, which, in the usual 
 distinction, they called servile fear ; but to account all fear of 
 the judgments and wrath of God a servile fear, or, (not to 
 stand upon words,) to account such a fear improper to the 
 children of God, I conceive is a wide mistake. Indeed, to fear 
 the punishments of sin, without regard to God and His justice
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 311 
 
 as the inflicter of them, or to forbear to sin only because of 
 those punishments, so that if a man can be secured from those, 
 he hath no other respect to God that would make him fear to 
 offend, — this is the character of a slavish and base mind. 
 
 Again, for a man so to apprehend wrath in relation to him- 
 self, as to be still under the horror of it in that notion, and not 
 to apprehend redemption and deliverance by Jesus Christ, is to 
 be under that spirit of bondage, which the Apostle speaks of, 
 Rom. viii. 15. And though a child of God may for a time be 
 under such fear, yet the lively actings of faith and persuasion 
 of God's love, and the feeling of reflex love to Him in the soul, 
 do cast it out, according to that word of the Apostle, (1 John iv. 
 18,) True (or perfect) love casteth out fear. But to appre- 
 hend the punishments which the Lord threatens against sin, as 
 certain and true, and to consider the greatness and fearfulness 
 of them, especially the terror of the Lord's anger and hot dis- 
 pleasure, above all punishments, and (though not only, no, nor 
 chiefly, for these, yet) in contemplation of these, as very great 
 and weighty, to be afraid to offend that God who hath threat- 
 ened such things as the just reward of sin ; this, I say, is not 
 incongruous with the estate of the sons of God, yea, it is their 
 duty and their property even thus to fear. 
 
 1st. This is the very end for which God hath published these 
 intimations of His justice, and hath threatened to punish men 
 if they transgress, to the end they may fear and not transgress : 
 so that not to look upon them thus, and not to be affected w ith 
 them answerably to their design, were a very grievous sin ; a 
 slight and disregard put upon the words of the great God. 
 
 2dly. Above all others, the children of God have the rightest 
 and clearest knowledge of God, and the deepest belief of His 
 word, and therefore they cannot choose but be afraid, and 
 more afraid than all others, to fall under the stroke of His 
 hand. They know more of the greatness, and truth, and jus- 
 tice of God than others, and therefore they fear when He 
 threatens. My flesh tremblefli for fear of Thee, (says David,) 
 and I am afraid of Thy judgments. (Psal. cxix. 120.) Yea,
 
 312 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 they tremble when they hear the sentence against otiiers, or see 
 it executed upon them ; it moves them when they see public 
 executions : Knowing the ierror of the Lord, we persuade 
 men, says St. Paul, (2 Cor. v. 11) ; and they cry out with 
 ]\Ioses, (Psahn xc. 11,) Wlio knows the power of Thine anger? 
 Even according to Thy fear, so is lliy wrath ! It is not an 
 imagination or invention, that makes men fear more than they 
 need. His wrath is as terrible as any that fear it most can 
 apprehend, and beyond that. So that this doth not only con- 
 sist with the estate of the saints, but is their very character, to 
 tremble at the word of their Lord. The rest neglect what He 
 says, till death and judgment seize on them ; but the godly 
 know and believe that it is a fearfid thing to fall into the 
 hands of the living God. (Heb. x. 31.) 
 
 And though they have firm promises, and a kingdom that 
 cannot be shaken, yet they have still this grace by which they 
 serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear ; even in 
 this consideration, that our God, even He that is ours by pecu- 
 liar covenant, is a consuming fire. (Heb. xii. 28, 29.) 
 
 But indeed, together with this, yea, more than by this, they 
 are persuaded to fear the Lord, by the sense of His great love to 
 them, and by the power of that love that works in them towards 
 Him, and is wrought in them by His. They shall fear the 
 Lord and His goodness in the latter days (IIos. iii. 5). In 
 those days. His goodness shall manifest itself more than before ; 
 the beams of His love shall break forth more abundantly in the 
 days of the Gospel, and shall beat more direct and hotter on the 
 hearts of men ; and then, they shall fear Him more, because 
 they shall love II im more. 
 
 This fear agrees w^ell both with faith and love, yea, tliey 
 work this fear. (Compare Psalm xxxi. 23, with Psahn xxxiv. 
 9 ; and that same Psalm xxxiv. ver. 8, with ver. 9 ; and Psalm 
 cxii. ver. 1, with ver. 7.) The heart touched with the load-stone 
 of Divine love, ever trembles with this godly fear, and still 
 looks fixedly by faitii to tliat star of Jacob, Jesus Christ, who 
 guides it to the haven of happiness.
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 313 
 
 The looking upon God in the face of Jesus Christ, takes off 
 that terror of His countenance lliat drives men from Him ; and 
 in the smiles of His love that appear through Christ, there is 
 such a power as unites their hearts to Him, but uniles them so 
 as to fear His name, as the Psalmist's prayer is, Psalm Ixxxvi. 
 11. He puts such a fear in their hearts as will not cause them 
 to depart from, yea, causes that they shall not depart from 
 Him. (Jer, xxxii. 40.) 
 
 And this is the purest and highest kind of godly fear, that 
 springs from love : and though it excludes not the consideration 
 of wratli, as terrible in itself, and even some fear of it, yet it 
 may surmount it ; and doubtless, where much of that love pos- 
 sesses the heart, it will sometimes drown the other consideration, 
 so that it shall scarcely be perceptible at all, and will constantly 
 set it aside, and will persuade a man, purely for the goodness 
 and loveliness of God, to fear to offend Him, though there were 
 no interest at all in it of a man*'s own personal misery or hap- 
 piness. 
 
 But do we thus fear the Lord our God ? What mean, then, 
 our oaths, and excesses, and uncleanness, our covetousness, and 
 generally, our unholy and unchristian conversation .^ This fear 
 would make men tremble, so as to shake them out of their pro- 
 fane customs, and to shake their beloved sins out of their 
 bosoms. The knowledge of the Holy One causes fear of Him. 
 (Prov. ix. 18.) 
 
 But alas ! we know Him not, and therefore we fear Him not. 
 Knew we but a little of the great majesty of God, how h.oly He 
 is, and how powerful a punisher of unholiness, we should not 
 dare provoke him thus, who can hill both body and soul, and 
 cast them into hell, as our Saviour tells us. Matt. x. 28. And 
 He will do so with both, if we will not fear Him, because he 
 can do so ; and it is told us that we may fear, and so not feel, 
 this heavy wrath. A little lively, spiritual knowledge would 
 go far, and work much, which a great deal, such as ours is, doth 
 not. Some such word as that of Joseph, Avould do much, being 
 engraven on the heart, Shall I do this evil, and sin against
 
 314 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 God? (Gen. xxxix. 9.) It would make a man be at no more 
 liberty to sin in secret than in public ; no, not to dispense with 
 the sin of his thoughts, more than the openest words or ac- 
 tions. If some grave wise man did see our secret behaviour and 
 our thoughts, should we not look more narrowly to them, and 
 not suffer such rovings and follies in ourselves? Surely, there- 
 fore, we forget God's eye, which we could not, if we thought of 
 it aright, but should respect it more, than if all men did see 
 within us. 
 
 Nor is this the main point to be pressed upon the ungodly 
 only, but the children of God themselves have much need to 
 be put in mind of this fear, and to increase in it. How often 
 do they abuse the indulgence of so loving a Father ! They 
 have not their thoughts so constantly full of Him, are not in His 
 fear (as Solomon advises) all the day long, (Prov. xxiii. 17,) 
 but many times slip out of His directing hand, and wander from 
 Him, and do not so deeply fear His displeasure, and so watch 
 over all their ways, as becomes them : they do not keep close 
 by Him, and wait on his voice, and obey it constantly, and are 
 not so humbled and afflicted in their repcntings for sin, as this 
 fear requires, but only in a slight and superficial degree. They 
 offer much lip-labour, which is but dead service to the living 
 God. These are things, my beloved, that concern us much, 
 and that we ought seriously to lay to heart ; for even they who 
 are freed from condemnation, yet if they will walk fearlessly and 
 carelessly at any time. He hath ways enough to make them 
 smart for it. And if there were nothing more, should it not 
 wound them deeply to think how they requite so great, so un- 
 speakable love ? 
 
 Honour the king.^ This was the particular that the Apostle 
 pressed and insisted on before; and here he repeats it, as a 
 special duty of the Second Table, and a vindication of religion, 
 which is wrongfully blamed in this point ; but of this before. 
 
 This is out of question in the general ; only in the measure 
 and rule of it, is the difference. And surely they cannot pos- 
 sibly be satisfied, who are so drunk with power as to admit of
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 315 
 
 none at all, — no measure nor rate for it, no banks nor channel 
 for those rivers, the hearts and wills of kings, to run in, but 
 think that if they like to run over all, they may. 
 
 This is such a wild conceit as destroys both all law of reason 
 in human societies, and all religious obligation to the laws of 
 God. For the qualification and measure, I shall mention no 
 other than that in the text, that it be always regulated by what 
 here goes before it, the fear of God ; that we never think of 
 any such obedience and honour due to kings, as crosseth that 
 fear which is due to God. Let kings, and subjects, and all 
 know that they are absolutely bound to this. It is spoken to 
 kings, (Psalm ii. 11,) Serve the Lord in fear ; and to all men, 
 (Psalm ix. 6,) Fear before Him, all the earth, for He is great, 
 and greatly to be praised ; He is to be feared above all gods. 
 What is man in respect of Him ? Shall a worm, whose breath 
 is in his nostrils, stand in competition with the ever-living 
 God ? Shall an earthen potsherd strive with his Maker ? Let 
 the potsherd strive with the ptotsherds of the earth ; — let them 
 work one against another, and try which is hardest, and so they 
 shall often break each other ; — but Woe to him that striveth 
 with his Maker. (Isa. xlv. 9.) There is nothing here but cer- 
 tain perishing. As we conclude in the question with the Church 
 of Rome, of the honour due to saints and angels, honour let 
 them have, with good reason, but not Divine honour, not God's 
 peculiar ; so in this. Give to Ccesar the things that are CcEsar's, 
 but withal, still Give to God the things that are God's. 
 
 But it is a miserable estate of a kingdom, when debates on 
 this head arise and increase ; and their happiness is, when kings 
 and people concur to honour God : For those that honour Him, 
 He will honour, and whosoever despises Him, shall be lightly 
 esteemed. (1 Sam. ii. 30.) 
 
 Ver. 18. Servants, be subject to your masters with all fear, not only to the 
 
 good and gentle, but also to the froward. 
 Ver. 19. For this is thank-worthy, if a man for conscience toward God, 
 
 endure grief, suffering wrongfully. 
 Ver. 20. For what glory is it, if when ye be buffetted for your faults, ye
 
 816* A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 shall take it patiently ? But if when ye do \Yell and suffer for it, ye 
 take it patiently ; tliis is acceptable with God. 
 
 Thy word (says the Psalmist) is a J'ujht to my fed, and a 
 lamp to my paths (Psal. cxix. 105) ; — not only a light to please 
 his eyes, by the excellent truths and comforts that are in it, 
 but withal a lamp to direct his feet in the precepts and rules of 
 life that it gives : not only to inform and delight his. mind, but 
 also to order his course. That philosopher was deservedly 
 commended, who drew knowledge most this way, and therefore 
 was said to have brought philosophy from the clouds to dwell 
 amongst men, calling it from empty speculations to a practical 
 strain. Thus we are taught in spiritual knowledge by the 
 word of God. The Son, the eternal Word, when he came to 
 dwell with men, and so brought life, and wisdom, and all bless- 
 ings from the Heavens down unto them, taught them both by 
 his doctrine and perfect example, how to walk ; and his Apostles 
 do, conformably, aim at this in their holy writings, joining with 
 the mysteries of faith, those rules of life which shew men the 
 straight way to happiness. 
 
 And as it is spoken of the largeness of Solomon's wisdom, 
 that he spake of all trees, from the cedar in Lebanon, to the 
 hyssop that grows out of the wall, (1 Kings iv. 33,) so in this 
 we may see the perfection of the holy Scriptures, that they 
 fifive those directions that are needful to all ranks and sorts of 
 men. They speak not only of the duties of kings, how they 
 ought to behave themselves on their thrones, and the duty of 
 their subjects towards then in that dignity, and how ministers 
 and others ought to carry themselves in the house of God ; but 
 they come into private houses, and give economic rules for 
 them ; teaching parents, and children, and masters, yea, and 
 servants, how to acquit themselves one to another. Thus here, 
 Servants, Jje subject to your masters. 
 
 As this is a just plea for all the people of God, that they 
 have a right to the use of this Book, being so useful for all 
 sorts, and that they ought not to be debarred from it ; so it is 
 a just plea against a great part of those that debar themselves
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 317 
 
 the use of it, through slothfuhiess and earthly-mindedness, 
 seeing it is so contenipered, that there may be many things, yea, 
 all the main things in it profitable for all, fitted to the use of 
 the lowest estate and lowest capacities of men. Yea, it takes 
 (as we see) particular notice of their condition ; stoops down to 
 take the meanest servant by the hand, to lead him in the way 
 to heaven ; and not only in that part of it which is the general 
 way of Christians, but even in those steps of it that lie within 
 the walk of their particular calling ; as here, teaching not only 
 the duties of a Christian, but of a Christian servant. 
 
 Obs. 1. The Scriptures are a deep that few can wade far 
 into, and none can wade through, (as those waters, Ezekylxvii. 
 5,) but yet all may come to the brook and refresh themselves 
 with drinking of the streams of its living water, and go in a 
 little way, according to their strength and stature. Now this 
 (I say) may be spoken to our shame, and I wish it might 
 shame you to amendment, that so many of you either use not 
 the Scriptures at all, or, in using, do not use them ; you turn 
 over the leaves, and, it may be, run through the lines, and con- 
 sider not what they advise you. Masters, learn your part, and 
 servants too, hearken what they say to you, for they pass not 
 you by, they vouchsafe to speak to you too, but you vouchsafe 
 not to hear them, and observe their voice. How can you think 
 that the reading of this Book concerns you not, when you may 
 hear it address such particular directions to you ? Wisdom 
 goes not only to the gates of palaces but to the common gates 
 of the cities, and to the public highways, and calls to the 
 simplest that she may make them wise. Besides that you dis- 
 honour God, you prejudice yourselves ; for docs not that 
 neglect of God and His word justly procure the disorder and 
 disobedience of your servants towards you, as a fit punishment 
 from His righteous hand, although they are unrighteous, and 
 are procuring further judgment to themselves in so doing? 
 And not only thus is your neglect of the word a cause of your 
 trouble by the justice of God, but it is so in regard of the 
 nature of the word, inasmuch as, if you would respect it, and
 
 818 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 make use of it in your houses, it would teach your servants to 
 respect and obey you, as here you see it speaks for you ; and 
 therefore you wrong both it and yourselves, when you silence 
 it in your families. 
 
 Obs. 2. The Apostle having spoken of subjection to public 
 authority, adds this of subjection to private domestic authority. 
 It is a thing of much concernment, the right ordering of fami- 
 lies ; for all other societies, civil and religious, are made up of 
 these. Villages, and cities, and churches, and commonwealths, 
 and kingdoms, are but a collection of families'; and therefore, 
 such as these are, for the most part, such must the whole so- 
 cieties predominantly be. One particular house is but a very 
 small part of a kingdom, yet the wickedness and lewdness of 
 that house, be it but of the meanest in it, of servants one or 
 more, and though it seem but a small thing, yet goes in to 
 make up that heap of sin which provokes the wrath of God, 
 and draws on public calamity. 
 
 And this particularly, when it declines into disorder, proves 
 a public evil. When servants grow generally corrupt and 
 disobedient, and unfaithful, though they be the lowest part, 
 yet the whole body of a commonwealth cannot but feel very 
 much the evil of it j as a man does when his legs and feet grow 
 diseased, and begin to fail him. 
 
 We have here, 1. Their duty. 2. The due extent of it. 
 3. The right principle of it. 
 
 1st, Their duty. Be .subject. Keep your order and station 
 under your masters, and that ivitk fear, and inward reverence 
 of mind and respect to them ; for that is the very life of all 
 obedience. Then their obedience hath in it diligent doing, 
 and patient suffering : both these are in that word. Be suhjrcf. 
 Do faithfully to your utmost that which is intrusted to you, 
 and obey all their just commands, for action indeed goes no 
 further ; but suffer patiently even their unjust rigours and 
 severities. And this being the harder part of the two, and yet 
 a part that the servants of those times bore, many of them being- 
 more hardly and slavishly used than any with us, (esjiecially
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 819 
 
 those that were Christian servants under unchristian niasters,) 
 therefore the Apostle insists most on this. And this is the 
 extent of the obedience here required, that it be paid to all 
 kinds of masters, not to the good only, but also to the evil ; not 
 only to obey, but to suffer, and suffer patiently, and not only 
 deserved, but even wrongful and unjust punishment. 
 
 Now because this particular concerns Servants, let them 
 reflect upon their own carriage and examine it by this rule ; 
 and truly the greatest part of them will be found very uncon- 
 formable to it, being either closely fraudulent and deceitful, or 
 grossly stubborn and disobedient, abusing the lenity and mild- 
 ness of their masters, or murmuring at their just severity. So 
 far are they from the patient endurance of the least undue word 
 of reproof, much less of sharper punishment, either truly, or, 
 in their opinion, undeserved. And truly, if any who profess 
 religion, dispense with this in themselves, they mistake the 
 matter very much ; for religion ties them the more, whether 
 children or servants, to be most submissive and obedient even 
 to the worst kind of parents and masters, always in the Lord ; 
 not obeying any unjust command, though they may and ought 
 to suff'er patiently (as it is here) their unjust reproofs or punish- 
 ments. 
 
 But on the other side, this does not justify, nor at all excuse 
 the unmerciful austerities and unbridled passion of masters ; it 
 is still a perverseness and crookedness in them, as the word is 
 here, ayiokiols, and must have its own name, and shall have its pro- 
 per reward from the sovereign Master and Lord of all the world. 
 2dly. There is here also the due extent of this duty, namely. 
 To the froward. It is a more deformed thing, to have a 
 distorted, crooked mind, or a froward spirit, than any 
 crookedness of the body. Hov/ can he that hath servants 
 under him, expect their obedience, when he cannot command 
 his own passion, but is a slave to it? And unless much con- 
 science of duty possess servants, (more than is commonly to be 
 found with them,) it cannot but work a master into much dis- 
 affection and disesteem with them, when he is of a turbulent
 
 320 A COMMENTARY UPON 
 
 spirit, a irouhler of his own house, imbittering his affairs and 
 commands with rigidness and passion, and ready to take things 
 by tliat side which may offend and trouble him, thinking his 
 servant shghts his call, when he may as well think he hears him 
 not, and upon every slight occasion, real or imagined, flying out 
 into reproachful speeches, or proud threats, contrary to the 
 Apostle St. Paul's rule, which he sets over against the duty of 
 servants: Forhear'uKj threatenhuj, knowiivj that your Master 
 also is in heaven, and that there is no respect of persons with 
 Him. (Eph. vi. 9-) Think, therefore, when you shall appear 
 before the judgment seat of God, that your carriage shall be 
 examined and judged as well as theirs ; and think, that though 
 we regard much those differences of masters and servants, yet 
 they are nothing with God, they vanish away in His presence. 
 
 Consider who made thee to differ. Might He not, with a 
 turn of His hand, have made your stations just contrary, have 
 made thee the servant, and thy servant the master? But we 
 Avillingly forget those things that should compose our mind to 
 humility and meekness, and blow them up with such fancies 
 as please and feed our natural vanity, and make us somebody 
 in our own account. 
 
 However, that Christian servant who falls into the hands of a 
 froward master, will not be beaten out of his station and duty 
 of obedience by all the hard and wrongful usage he meets with, 
 but will take that as an opportunity of exercising the more 
 obedience and patience, and will be the more cheerfully patient, 
 because of his innocence, as the Apostle here exhorts. 
 
 Men do indeed look sometimes upon this as a just plea for 
 impatience, that they suffer unjustly, which yet is very ill 
 logic ; for, as the philosopher said, " Would any man that 
 frets because he suffers imjustly, wish to deserve it, that he 
 might be patient.?" Now, to hear them, they seem to speak 
 so, when they exclaim, that the thing that vexeth them most, 
 is, that they have not deserved any such thing as is inflicted on 
 them. Truly, desert of punisinnent may make a man more 
 silent upon it, but innocence, rightly considered, makes hinx
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEU. 3^1 
 
 more patient. Guiltiness stops a man's mouth, indeed, in suf- 
 fering, but surely it doth not quiet his mind ; on the contrary, 
 it is that which mainly disturbs and grieves him ; it is the sting 
 of suffering, as sin is said to be of death, 1 Cor. xv. 56. And 
 therefore, when there is no guilt, the pain of sufferings cannot 
 but be much abated ; yea, the Apostle here declares, that to 
 suffer undeserved, and withal patiently, is glorious to a man, 
 and acceptable to God. It is commendable, indeed, to be truly 
 patient even in deserved sufferings, but the deserving them 
 tarnishes the lustre of that patience, and makes it look more 
 like constraint ; which is the Apostle's meaning, in preferring 
 spotless suffering much before it. And this is indeed the true 
 glory of it, that it pleaseth God ; (so it is rendered in the close 
 of the 20th verse for the other w^ord of glory in the beginning 
 of it ;) it is a pleasing thing in God's eyes, and therefore He 
 will thank a man for it, as the word is, %ocqis Trocpai @eu. 
 Though we owe all our patience under all kinds of afflictions, 
 as a duty to Him, and though this grace is His own gift, yet, 
 He hath obliged himself by His royal word not only to accept 
 of it, but to praise it, and reward it in His children. Though 
 they lose their thanks at the world's hands, and be rather 
 scoffed at and taunted in all their doings and sufferings, it is no 
 matter ; they can expect no other there ; but their reward is 
 on hiyh, in the sure and faithful hand of their Lord. 
 
 How often do men work earnestly, and do and suffer much 
 for the uncertain wages of glory and thanks amongst men ! 
 And how many of them fall short of their reckoning, either 
 dying before they came to that state where they think to find 
 it, or not finding it where they looked for it, and so they live 
 but to feel the pain of their disappointment ! Or, if they do 
 attain their end, such glory and thanks as men have to give 
 them, what amounts it to ? s it any other than a handful of 
 nothing, the breath of their mouths, and themselves much like 
 it, a vapour dying out in the air ? The most real thanks they 
 give, their solidest rewards, are but such as a man cannot take 
 home with him ; or if they go so far with him, yet at furthest 
 Vol, I. Y
 
 322 A. COMMENTARY UI'ON 
 
 he must leave them at the door, when he is to enter his ever- 
 lasting home. AH the riches, and palaces, and monuments of 
 honour that he had, and that are erected to him after death, 
 as if he had then some interest in them, reach him not at all. 
 Enjoy them who will, he does not, he hath no jjortioii of all 
 that is done under the sun ; his own end is, to him, the end of 
 the world. 
 
 But he that would have abiding glory and thanks, must 
 turn his eye another way for them. All men desire glory, but 
 they know neither what it is, nor how it is to be sought. He is 
 upon the only right bargain of this kind, ivhose jyraise (ac- 
 cording to St. Paul's word) is not of men, but of God. (Rom. 
 ii. 29.) If men commend him not, he accounts it no loss, nor 
 any gain if they do ; for he is bound for a country where that 
 coin goes not, and whither he cannot carry it, and therefore he 
 gathers it not. That which he seeks in all, is, that he may be 
 approved and accepted of God, whose thanks is no less, to the 
 least of those He accepts, than a crown of unfading glory. Not 
 a poor servant that fears His name, and is obedient and patient 
 for His sake, but shall be so rewarded. 
 
 There be some kind of graces and good actions, which men 
 (such as regard any grace) take special notice of, and com- 
 mend highly, — such as are of a magnific and remarkable nature, 
 as martyrdom, or doing or suffering for religion in some public 
 way. There be again, other obscure graces, which, if men 
 despise them not, yet they esteem not much, as meekness, 
 gentleness, and patience under private crosses, known to few 
 or none. And yet these are of great account with God, and 
 therefore should be so with us : these are indeed of more uni- 
 vei-sal use, whereas the other are but for high times, as we say, 
 for rare occasions : these are every one's work, but icw are 
 called to the acting of the other. And the least of these graces 
 shall not lose its reward, in whose person soever, as St. Paul 
 tells us, speaking of this same subject. Knoicinrj that what- 
 soever rjood tliinij any man doetli, the same shall he receice of 
 the Lord, whether he be bond or free, (Eph, vi. 8.)
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 3S3 
 
 This is the bounty of that great IMaster we serve. For what 
 are we and all we can do, that there should be the name of a 
 reward attached to it ? Yet He keeps all in reckoning ; not a 
 poor lame prayer, not a tear, nor a sigh poured forth before 
 Him, shall be lost. Not any cross, whether from His own 
 hand immediately, or coming through men's hands, that is 
 taken, what way soever it come, as out of His hand, and carried 
 patiently, yea, and welcomed, and embraced for His sake, but 
 He observes our so entertaining of it. Not an injury that the 
 meanest servant bears Christianly, but goes upon account with 
 Him. And He sets them down so, as that they bear much 
 value through His estimate and way of reckoning of them, 
 though in themselves they are all less than nothing ; as a 
 worthless counter stands for hundreds or thousands, according 
 to the place you set it in. Happy they who have to deal with 
 such a Lord, and who, be they servants or masters, are vowed 
 servants to Him ! When He comes, His reward shall be with 
 Him, (Rev. xxii. 12.) 
 
 The third thing is, the Principle of this obedience and pa- 
 tience. For conscience towards God. This imports, first, the 
 knowledge of God, and of His will in some due measure, and 
 then a conscientious respect unto Him and His will so known, 
 taking it for their only rule in doing and suffering. 
 
 Observe, 1. This declares to us the freeness of the grace of 
 God in regard to men's outward quality, that He doth often 
 bestow the riches of His grace upon persons of mean condition. 
 It is supposed here, that this conscience towards God, this saving 
 knowledge and fear of His name, is to be found in Servants : 
 therefore, the Apostle takes them within the address of his 
 letter amongst those who are elect, according to the foreknow- 
 ledge of God, (ch. i. ver, 2,) and sharers of those dignities he 
 mentions (ch. ii. ver. 9) a chosen generation. The honour of 
 a spiritual royalty may be concealed under the meanness of a 
 servant ; and this grace may be conferred upon the servant, 
 and denied to the master, as is here supposed. It may fall out, 
 
 that a perverse crooked-minded master may have a servant 
 
 ¥2
 
 324) A coM.ArENTARY uroN 
 
 uprightly minded, being endowed with a tender conscience 
 towards God. And thus the Lord does to counteract the 
 pride of man, and to set off the lustre of His own free grace. 
 He hath all to choose from, and yet chooses where men would 
 least imagine. (See Matt. xi. 25 ; 1 Cor. i. 27.) 
 
 Observe, 2. Grace finds a way to exert Itself in every estate 
 where it exists, and regulates the soul according to the parti- 
 cular duties of that estate. Whether it find a man high or 
 low, a master or a servant, it requires not a change of his 
 station, but works a change on his heart, and teaches him how 
 to live in it. The same spirit that makes a Christian master 
 pious, and gentle, and prudent in commanding, makes a 
 Christian servant faithful, and obsequious, and diligent in 
 obeying. A skilful engraver makes you a statue indifferently 
 of wood, or stone, or marble, as they are put into his hand ; 
 so Grace forms a man to a Christian way of walking, in any 
 estate. There is a way for him in the meanest condition to 
 glorify God, and to adorn the profession of religion ; no estate 
 so low, as to be shut out from that ; and a rightly informed 
 and rightly affected conscience towards God, shews a man that 
 way, and causes him to walk in it. As the astrologers say, 
 that the same stars that made Cyrus to be chosen king amongst 
 the armies of men when he came to he a man, made hisn to be 
 chosen king amongst the shepherd's children, when he was a 
 child ; thus Grace will have its jiroper operation in every 
 estate. 
 
 In this, men readily deceive themselves ; they can do any 
 thing well in imagination, better than the real task that is in 
 their hands. They presume that they could do God good 
 service in some place of command, who serve Him not, as be- 
 comes them, in that which is by far the easier, the ])lace of 
 obeying, wherein he hath set them. They think that if they 
 had the ability and opportunities that some men have, they 
 would do much more for religion, and for God, than they do ; 
 and yet they do nothing, but spoil a far lower part than that, 
 which is their own, and is given them to study and act aright
 
 tUK FIRST EPtSTI.K OV PF.TER. '325 
 
 in. But our folly and sclf-lgnorance abuse us : it is not our 
 part to choose what we should be, but to be what we are, to 
 His glory who gives us to be such. Be thy condition never 
 so mean yet, thy conscience towards God, if it be within thee, 
 will find itself work in that. If it be litde that is intrusted to 
 thee, in regard of thy outward condition, or any other way, be 
 thou faithful in that little, as our Saviour speaks, and thy 
 reward shall not be little : He shall make thee ruler over much, 
 (Matt. XXV. 23.) 
 
 Observe, 3. As a corrupt mind debaseth the best and most 
 excellent callings and actions, so the lowest are raised above 
 themselves, and ennobled by a spiritual mind. IMagistrates or 
 ministers, though their calling and employments be high, may 
 have low intentions, and draw down their hio-h calline; to 
 those low intentions ; they may seek themselves, and their own 
 selfish ends, and neglect God. And a sincere Christian may 
 elevate his low calling by this conscience towards God, observ- 
 ing His will, and intending His glory in it. An eagle may 
 fly high, and yet have its eye down upon some carrion on the 
 earth : even so a man may be standing on the earth, and on 
 some low part of it, and yet have his eye upon heaven, and 
 be contemplating it. That which men cannot at all see in one 
 another, is the very thing that is most considerable in their 
 actions, namely, the principle whence they flow, and the end 
 to which they tend. This is the form and life of actions, — that 
 by which they are earthly or heavenly. Whatsoever be the 
 matter of them, the spiritual mind hath that alchemy indeed, 
 of turning base metals into gold, — earthly employments into 
 heavenly. The handy-work of an artisan or servant who re- 
 gards God, and eyes Him even in that work, is much holier 
 than the praijer of a hypocrite? and a servant's enduring the 
 private wrongs and harshness of a froward master, bearing it 
 patiently for conscience towards God, is more acceptable to 
 God, than the sufferings of such as may endure much for a 
 public good cause, without a good and upright heart. 
 
 This habitude and posture of the heart towards God, the
 
 326 A COMME\'TARY IT?0N 
 
 Apostle St. Paul presses much upon Servants, (Epli. vi. 8,) as 
 being very needful to allay the hard labour and harsh usage of 
 many of them. This is the way to make all easy, to undergo 
 it for God. There is no pill so bitter, but respect and love to 
 God will sweeten it. And this is a very great refreshment 
 and comfort to Christians in the mean estate of servants or 
 other labouring men, that they may offer up their hardship 
 and bodily labour as a sacrifice to God, and say, Lord, this is 
 the station wherein Thou hast set me in this world, and I 
 desire to serve Thee in it. What I do is for Thee, and what 
 I suflPer I desire to bear patiently and cheerfully for Thy sake, 
 in submission and obedience to Thy will. 
 
 For conscience^] In this there is, 1. A reverential compli- 
 ance with God's disposal, both in allotting to them that con- 
 dition of life, and in particularly choosing their master for 
 them ; though possibly not the mildest and pleasantest, yet the 
 fittest for their good. There is much in firmly believing this, 
 and in heartily submitting to it ; for we would, naturally, 
 rather carve for ourselves, and shape our own estate to our mind, 
 which is a most foolish, yea, an Impious presumption : as if we 
 Avere wiser than He who hath done it, and as if there were 
 not as much, and, it may be, more possibility of true content- 
 ment in a mean, than in a far higher condition ! The master's 
 mind is often more tolled than the servant's body. But if our 
 condition be appointed us, at least we would have a voice in 
 some qualifications and circumstances of it ; as in this, if a man 
 must serve, he would wish willingly that God would allot him 
 a meek, gentle master. And so, in other things, if we must 
 be sick, we- would be well accommodated, and not want helps; 
 but to have sickness, and want means and friends for our help, 
 this we cannot think of without horror. But this submission 
 to God is never right, till all that concerns us be given up into 
 His hand, to do with it, and with every article and circum- 
 stance of it, as seems good in His eyes. 2. In this conscience, 
 there is a religious and observant respect to the rule which 
 God liath set men to walk by in that condition ; so that their
 
 THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETEE. 327 
 
 obedience depends not upon any external inducement, failing 
 when that fails, but flows from an inward impression of the 
 law of God upon the heart. Thus, a servant's obedience and 
 patience will not be pinned to the goodness and equity of his 
 master, but when that fails, will subsist upon its own inward 
 ground ; and so, generally, in all other estates. This is the 
 thing that makes sure and constant walking ; makes a man 
 step even in the ways of God. When a man's obedience 
 springs from that unfailing, unchanging reason, the command 
 of God, it is a natural motion, and therefore keeps on, and 
 rather grows than abates ; but tliey who are moved by things 
 outward, must often fail, because those things are not constant 
 in their moving ; as, for instance, when a people are much acted 
 'on by the spirit of their rulers, as the Jews when they had 
 good kings. 3. In this conscience, there is a tender care of 
 the glory of God and the adornment of religion, which the 
 Apostle premised before these particular duties, as a thing to 
 be specially regarded in them. The honour of our Lord's 
 name, is that which we should set up as the mark to aim all 
 our actions at. But alas ! either we think not on it, or our 
 hearts slip out, and start from their aim, like bows of deceit, 
 as the word is, Psal. Ixxviii. 57. 4, There is the comfortable 
 persuasion of God's approbation and acceptance, (as it is ex- 
 pressed in the following verse, of which somewhat before,) and 
 the hope of that reward He hath promised, as it is Col. iii. 24. 
 Knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the inheritance, 
 for ye serve the Lord Christ. No less than the inheritance! 
 So, then, such servants as these are sons and heirs of God, co- 
 heirs with Christ. Thus he that is a servant may be in a far 
 more excellent state than his master. The servant may hope 
 for, and aim at a kingdom, while the master is embracing a 
 dunghill. And such a one will think highly of God's free 
 grace, and the looking ever to that inheritance, makes him go 
 cheerfully through all pains and troubles here, as Vujht and 
 momentary^ and not worth the naming in comparison of that 
 glory that shall be revealed. In the mean time, the best and
 
 S28 COMMENTARY UPON THE FIRST EPISTLE OF PETER. 
 
 most easy condition of the sons of God cannot satisfy them, 
 nor stay tlieir sighs and (jroans, ivaitimj and longing for that 
 day of their full redemption. (Rom. viii. 16, 23.) 
 
 Now this is the great rule, not only for servants, but for all 
 the servants of God in what state soever, to set the Lord 
 always before them, (Fsal. xvi. 8,) and to study, with St. Paul, 
 to have a conscience void of offence toicards God and man; 
 (Acts xxiv. 16 ;) to eye, and to apply constantly to their actions 
 and their inward thoughts, the command of God ; to walk by 
 that rule abroad, and at home in their houses, and in the 
 several ways of their calling; (as an exact workman is ever 
 and anon laying his rule to his work, and squaring it ;) and 
 for the conscience they have towards God, to do and suffer 
 His will cheerfully in every thing, being content that He 
 choose their condition and their trials for them ; only desirous 
 to be assured, that He hath chosen them for his own, and 
 given them a right to the glorious liberty of the sons of God^ 
 (Rom. viii. 21) ; still endeavouring to walk in that way which 
 leads to it, overlooking this moment, and all things in it, ac- 
 counting it a very indifferent matter what is their outward 
 state here, provided they may be happy in eternity. Whether 
 we be high or low here, bond or free, it imports little, seeing 
 that all these differences shall be so quickly at an end, and 
 there shall not be so much as any track or footstep of them left. 
 With particular men, it is so in their graves ; you may distin- 
 guish the greater from the less by their tombs, but by their 
 dust you cannot; and with the whole world it shall be so in 
 the end. All monuments and palaces, as well as cottages, 
 shall be made fire, as our Apostle tells us. The elements 
 shall melt with fervent heat, and the earth, and all the ivorks 
 therein, shcdl be burnt up. (2 Pet. iii. 10.) 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 London : PrintcU by W. Clowes, Stamford Street, 
 
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