through other people's hands than his own: for I was his almoner in London., He had gathered a well chosen library of curious, as well as useful books, which he left to the diocese of Dunblane, for the use of the clergy there, that country being ill provided with books. He lamented oft to me the stupidity that he observed among the commons of England, who seemed to be much more insensible in the matters of religion, than the commons of Scotland were. He retained still a peculiar inclination to Scotland: and if he had seen any prospect of doing good there, he would have gone and lived and died among them. In the short time that the affairs of Scotland were in the Duke of Monmouth's hands, that Duke had been possessed with such an opinion of him, that he moved the King to write to him to go, and at least live in Scotland, if he would not engage in a bishoprick there; but that fell with that Duke's credit. He was in his last years turned to a greater severity against Popery than I had imagined a man of his temper, and of his largeness, in point of opinion, was capable of. He spoke of the corruptions, of the secular spirit, and of the cruelty that appeared in that Church, with an extraordinary concern; and lamented the shameful advances that we seemed to be making towards Popery. He did this with a tenderness and an edge, that I did not expect from so recluse and mortified a man. He looked on the state the Church of England was in with very melancholy reflections, and was very uneasy at an expression then much used, that it was the best constituted church in the world. He thought it was truly so, with relation to the doctrine, the worship, and the main part of our government. But as to the administration, both with relation to the ecclesiastical courts, and the

pastoral care, he looked on it as one of the most corrupt he had ever seen. He thought, we looked like a fair carcase of a body without a spirit: without that zeal, that strictness of life, and that laboriousness in the clergy, that became us. There were two remarkable circumstances in his death. He used often to say, that if he were to choose a place to die in, it should be an inn : it looking like a pilgrim's going home, to whom this world was all as an inn, and who was weary of the noise and confusion in it. He added, that the officious tenderness and care of friends, was an entanglement to a dying man, and that the unconcerned attendance of those that could be procured in such a place, would give less disturbance. And he obtained what he desired; for he died at the Bell-inn in Warwick-lane. Another circumstance was, that while he was Bishop in Scotland, he took what his tenants were pleased to pay him so that there was a great arrear due, which was raised slowly by one whom he left in trust with his affairs there: and the last payment that he could expect from thence was returned up to him about six weeks before his death: so that his provision and journey failed both at once. And thus in the several parts of this his tory, I have given a very particular account of every thing relating to this apostolical man; whose life I would have writ, if I had not found proper places to bring the most material parts of it within this work. I reckon, that I owed this to that perfect friendship and fatherly care with which he had always treated me.

Bishop Burnet gives the following character of Bishop Leightoun, in the conclusion of his Pastoral Care.

(6

"I have now laid together with great simplicity what has been the subject of my thoughts "for above thirty years. I was formed to them "by a Bishop (meaning our Author) that had "the greatest elevation of soul, the largest compass of knowledge, the most mortified and heavenly disposition, that I ever yet saw in mor"tal; that had the greatest parts as well as virtue, "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 pronunciation, "that I never once saw a wandering eye where "he preached, and have seen whole assemblies "often melt in tears before him; and of whom "I can say with great truth, that in a free and "frequent conversation 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."

CHARACTER

OF

MESSRS. NAIRN AND CHARTERIS.

MANY of the Episcopal Clergy in Scotland were much offended at all these proceedings.* They saw the prejudices of the people were increased by them. They hated violent courses, and thought they were contrary to the meek spirit of the gospel, and that they alienated the nation more from the, church. They set themselves much to read church history, and to observe the state of the primitive church, and the spirits of those times and they could not but observe so great a difference between the constitution of the church under those bishops and our own, that they seemed to agree in nothing but the name. I happened to be settled near two of the most eminent of them, who were often moved to accept of bishopricks, but always refused them, both out of a true principle of humility and self-denial, and also because they could not engage in the methods by which things were carried on. One of these, Mr. Nairn, was one of the politest clergymen I ever knew bred in Scotland. He had formed clear and lively schemes of things, and was the most eloquent of all our preachers. He considered the pastoral function, as a dedica tion of the whole man to God and his service,

* The severities used in enforcing ecelesiastical uniformity.

He read the moral philosophers much; and had wrought himself into their equal temper, as much as could consist with a great deal of fire that was in his own; but he turned it all to melting devotion. He had a true notion of superstition, as a narrowness of soul, and a meanness of thought in religion. He studied to raise all that conversed with him to great notions of God, and to an universal charity. This made him pity the Presbyterians, as men of low notions and ill tempers. He had indeed too much heat of imagination, which carried him to be very positive in some things, in which he afterwards changed his mind; and that made him pass for an inconstant man. In a word, he was the brightest man I ever knew among all our Scottish divines. Another of these was Mr. Charteris, a man of a composed and serene gravity, but without affectation or sourness. He scarce ever spoke in company, but was very open and free in private. He made true judgments of things, and of men; and had a peculiar talent in managing such as he thought deserved his pains. He had little heat, either in body or mind; for as he had a most emaciated body, so he spoke both slow, and in so low a voice, that he could not easily be heard. He had a great tenderness in his temper; and was a very perfect friend, and a most sublime Christian. He lived in constant contempt of the world, and a neglect of his person. There was a gravity in his conversation that raised an attention, and begot a composedness, in all about him, without frightening them; for he made religion appear amiable in his whole deportment. He read all the lives and epistle of great men very carefully. He had read the Fathers much; and gave me this notion of them, that in speculative points, for which