of that stormy period, when the pulpit was mads the vehicle of political disputes. It being the custom of the Presbytery to inquire of the brethren twice a-year, whether they had preached to the times: "For God's sake," answered Leighton, "when all my brethren preach to the times, suffer one poor priest to preach for
eternity." This moderation could not fail to give offence the fact is, he seems to have regarded their disputes as trivial in comparison with the high and sacred duties he felt himself called upon to perform in his holy office. He seldom or never attended the meetings of the Presbytery, which was undoubtedly part of
his duty as a Presbyterian minister, but chose rather to live in strict retirement, alive only to the care of his own parish, in which he proved himself a faithful and zealous pastor. Of all the accounts of this eminent divine there is none so strictly correct as that left on record by his friend and illustrious contemporary,
bishop Rurnet, which we shall here quote in full, as we are persuaded that nothing could be given, either so entertaining or so full of information.
"Robert, eldest son of Dr Leighton, was bred in Scotland, and was accounted a saint from his youth up. He had great quickness of parts, a lively apprehension, with a charming vivacity of thought and expression. He had the greatest com- mand of the purest Latin I ever knew in any man; he was master of both Greek and Hebrew, and of the whole compass of theological learning, chiefly in the study of the Scriptures. But that which excelled all the rest was, he was possessed with the highest and boldest sense of divine things that I ever saw in any man; he had no regard for his person, unless it was to mortify it, by a constant low diet, that was like a perpetual fast. He had both a contempt of wealth and reputation: 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 himself. He bore all sorts of ill usage and reproach like a man that took pleasure in it. He had so subdued the natural heat of his temper, that in a great variety of accidents, and in the course of twenty years of intimate conversation with him, I never observed the least sign of passion but upon one single occasion. He brought himself into so composed a gravity 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. There was a visible tendency in all he said to raise his own mind, and those he conversed with to serious reflections. He seemed to be in a perpetual meditation; and, though the whole course of his life was strict and ascetical, yet he had nothing of the sourness of temper that generally possesses men of that sort. He was the freest from superstition, of censuring others, or of imposing his own methods on them, possible; so that he did not so much as recommend them to others. He said there was a diversity of tempers, and every man was to watch Over his own, and to turn it in the best manner he could. His thoughts were lively, oft out of the way and surprising, yet just and genuine. And he had laid together, in his memory, the greatest treasure of the best and wisest of all the ancient sayings of the heathens as well as Christians, that I have ever known any man master of, and he used them in the adeptest manner possible. He had been bred up with the greatest aversion possible to the whole frame of the church of England. From Scotland his father sent him to travel. He spent some years in France, and spoke the language like one born there. He came afterwards and settled in Scotland, and had the presbyterian ordination; but he quickly bore through the prejudices of his education. His preaching had a sublimity both of thought and^expression in it. The grace and gravity of his pronunciation was such, that few heard him without a very sensible emotion; I am sure I never did. His style was rather too fine; but there was a majesty and beauty in it that left so deep an impression, that I cannot yet forget the
