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 assigning any reason for the rejection, and without suggesting any healing measures in the room of ours. The continuance of the divisions, through which religion languishes, must consequently lie at your door. Before God and man I wash my hands of whatever evils may result from the rupture of this treaty. 1 have done my utmost to repair the temple of the Lord; and my sorrow will not be embittered by compunction, should a flood of miseries hereafter rush in through the gap you have refused to assist me in closing.'"

Leighton continued two or three years longer in his patient but fruitless attempts for union and peace. His spirit had long been tried by the worldliness of his colleagues, the rashness and tyranny of the government, the rigid obstinacy of the presbyterians, and the distractions so multiplied around him. At length, considering his work at an end, he resolved to give up his charge and retire from the world. "The dressing and undressing his soul, as he used to call his 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 birds," from the ungrateful service, which he had not declined, when summoned to it by the exigencies of the church; but from which he held himself discharged, now that it was become evident that no good could ensue from his remaining in it." There is a letter to his sister which discloses his feelings on this subject; a shade of sadness rests on his expressions, but they breathe perfect resignation to the will of God.

DEAR SISTER,

the

I was strangely surprised to see the bearer here. What could

occasion it I do not yet understand. At parting he earnestly desired a line to you, which without his desire my own affection would have carried me to, if I knew what to say but what I trust you do: and 'tis that our joint business is to die daily to this world and self, that what little remains of our life we may live to Him that died for us. For myself, to what purpose is it to tell you, what the bearer can, that I grow old and sickly; and though I have here great retirement, as great and possibly greater than I could readily find 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 pressingest 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

Dunblane, April 19th.

Your poor weary brother,

R. L.

Burnet has given the account of his retirement. "Leighton upon all this concluded he could do no good on either side: he had gained no ground on the presbyterians, and was suspected and hated by the episcopal party. So he resolved to retire from all public employments and to spend the rest of his days in a corner far from noise and business, and to give himself wholly to prayer and meditation, since he saw he could not carry on his great designs of healing and reforming the church, on which he had set his heart. He had gathered together many instances out of church history, of bishops that had left their Sees and retired from the world; and was much pleased with these.-He said, his work seemed to be at an end; he had no more to do unless he had a mind to please himself with the lazy enjoying a good revenue. So he could not be wrought on by all that could be laid before him; but followed Duke Lauderdale to court, and begged leave to retire from his archbishoprick. The Duke could by no means consent to this. So he desired that he might be allowed to do it within a year. Duke Lauderdale thought so much time was gained so to be rid of his importunities he moved the king to promise him, that if he did not change his mind, he would within the year accept of his resignation. He came back much pleased with what he had obtained; and said to me upon it, there was now but one uneasy stage between him and rest, and he would wrestle through, the best he could."

As soon as the year was completed he hastened to London and laid down his archbishopric. After his resignation he resided a short time in the college of Edinburgh; thence he retired to Broadhurst, an estate in Horsted Keynes, Sussex, belonging to his sister the widow of Edward Lightmaker, Esq., the same sister to whom he had expressed his earnest wishes for such a retreat, in the letter on the preceding page. With her he continued till the year 1684, in which he died.

Before the account of his death, the reader will be gratified in perusing the following deeply interesting passages from the description of his life and character by his biographer, the Rev. J. N. Pearson. We have quoted some paragraphs already; what follows seems to relate principally to the interval between his retirement and his death.

"Of the habits and employments of this man of God, during the sequel of his life, there remain but few particulars. Some interesting notices, however, of his general conversation, 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 impropriety, 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 utmost, that charity and courtesy would allow, from giving and receiving visits. Let it not be supposed, however, that he withdrew from ministerial employments. 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, of one of the neighboring churches, in reading prayers or in preaching. In the peasant's cottage, likewise,

his tongue dropt manna:

and long after his decease he was talked of by the poor of his village with affectionate reverence. With deep feeling would they recall his divine counsels and consolations; his tenderness in private converse; and the impressive sanctity which he carried into the solemnities of public worship.

"Of the devotion which mingled with his own life, flowing easily from a wellspring of divine love in his soul, it would be hard to speak extravagantly. Prayer and praise were his business and his pleasure. His manner of praying was so earnest and importunate, as proved that his soul mounted up to God in the flame of his oral aspirations. Although none was ever less tainted with a mechanical spirit in religion, yet he denied that the use of written forms put to flight the power of devotion; and he himself occasionally used them with an energy and feeling, by which his hearers were powerfully excited. To the Lord's prayer he was particularly partial, and said of it, "Oh, the spirit of this prayer would make rare Christians!" Considering prayer, fervent, frequent, intercessory prayer, to be a capital part of the clerical office, he would repeat with great approbation that apophthegm of a pious bishop-" Necesse est, non ut multum legamus, sed ut multum oremus. "* This he accounted the vessel, with which alone living water can be drawn from the well of divine mysteries. Without it he thought the application of the greatest human powers to theology would turn out a laborious vanity; and in support of this opinion he adduced the confession of Erasmus, that, when he began to approach the verities of celestial wisdom, he thought he understood them pretty well; but, after much study of commentators, he was infinitely more perplexed than before. With what a holy emphasis would Leighton exclaim, in commenting upon those words of David-"Thou (O God) has taught me"Non homines, nec consuetudo, nec industria mea, 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,-"Non opus est multis literis 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 comparable in value with internal holiness.

"Of his delight in the inspired volume the amplest proof is af

It is not neccessary for us to read much, but to pray much.

+ Not men, nor habit, nor my own industry, but Thou hath taught me. To have a good mind we do not need to be learned, but &c.

forded by his writings, which are a golden weft, thickly studded with precious stones from that mine, in beautiful arrangement. 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 line 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 through indisposition he was hardly equal to going abroad, he still persisted in attending church, and said in excnse for his apparent rashness, “Were the weather fair I would stay at home, but since it is foul I must go; lest I be thought to countenance, by my example, the irreligious practice of letting trivial hindrances keep us back from public worship."

"Averse as he was to parade of all kinds, and especially to dizening out religion in modish draperies, yet he was not for shrouding her in a gloomy cowl, and exposing her to needless scorn, as he thought the Quakers did, by dressing her with "an hood and bells." It was his wish to see public worship so ordered 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 ecclesiastical 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 forget, that he was an inexorable enemy to laxity and disorder; and maintained the necessity of a regular and exact administration of the church, although he was comparatively indifferent about the form of that administration, if it did but ensure a good supply for the religious wants of the people. "The mode of church government, he would say, is inmaterial; but peace and

Song of Solomon, chap. i. v. 13.