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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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