PERIOD I.

FROM THE YEAR 1505, IN WHICH HE WAS BORN, TO THE YEAR 1542, WHEN HE EMBRACED THE REFORMED RELIGION.

John Knox was born in the year one thousand five hundred and five. The place of his nativity has been disputed. That he was born at Gifford, a village in East Lothian, has long been the prevailing opinion; but some late writers, relying upon popular tradition, have fixed his birth‑place at Haddington, the principal town of the county. The house in which he is said to have been born is still shewn by the inhabitants, in one of the suburbs of the town, called the Gifford‑gate. This house, with some adjoining acres of land, continued to be possessed, until about fifty years ago, by a family of the name of Knox, who claimed affinity with the Reformer. I am inclined, however, to prefer the opinion of the oldest and most credible writers, that he was born in the village of Gifford.2

His father was descended from an ancient and respectable family, who possessed the lands of Knock, Ranferly, and Craigends, in the shire of Renfrew. The descendants of this family have been accustomed to enumerate among the honours of their house, that it gave birth to the Scottish Reformer, a bishop of Raphoe, and a bishop of the Isles.3 At what particular period his paternal ancestors removed from their original seat, and settled in Lothian, I have not been able exactly to ascertain. His mother’s name was Sinclair.4

Obscurity of parentage can reflect no dishonour upon the man who has raised himself to distinction by his virtues and talents. But though our Reformer’s parents were neither great nor opulent, the assertion of some writers that they were in poor circumstances, is contradicted by facts.5 They were able to give their son a liberal education, which, in that age, was far from being common. In his youth, he was put to the grammar‑school of Haddington; and, after he had acquired the principles of the Latin language, his father sent him, in the year 1521, to the university of Glasgow.6

The state of learning in Scotland at that period, and the progress which it made in the subsequent part of the century, have not been examined with the attention which they deserve, and which has been bestowed on contemporaneous objects of inferior importance. There were unquestionably learned Scotsmen in the early part of the sixteenth century; but most of them owed their chief acquirements to the advantage of a foreign education. Those improvements, which the revival of literature had introduced into the schools of Italy and France, were long in reaching the universities of Scotland, though originally formed upon their model; and, when they did arrive, they were regarded with a suspicious eye, and discountenanced by the clergy. The principal branches cultivated in our universities were the Aristotelian philosophy, scholastic theology, and canon law.7

Even in the darkest ages, Scotland was never altogether destitute of schools for teaching the Latin language.8 It is probable that these were at first attached to monasteries; and it was long a common practice among the barons to board their children with the monks for their education.9 When the regular clergy had degenerated, and learning was no longer confined to them, grammar‑schools were erected in the principal towns, and taught by persons who had qualified themselves for this task in the best manner that the circumstances of the country admitted. The schools of Aberdeen, Perth, Stirling, Dumbarton, Killearn, and Haddington, are particularly mentioned in writings about the beginning of the sixteenth century. The two first of these acquired the greatest celebrity, owing to the skill of the masters who presided over them. In the year 1520, John Vaus was rector of the school of Aberdeen, and is commended by Hector Boece, the learned principal of the university, for his knowledge of the Latin tongue, and his success in the education of youth.10 At a period somewhat later, Andrew Simson acted as master of the school of Perth, where he taught Latin with applause. He had sometimes three hundred boys under his charge at once, including sons of the principal nobility and gentry; and from his school proceeded many of those who afterwards distinguished themselves both in church and state.11

These schools afforded the means of instruction in the Latin tongue, the knowledge of which, in some degree, was requisite for enabling the clergy to perform the religious service. But the Greek language, long after it had been enthusiastically studied on the continent, and after it had become a fixed branch of education in the neighbouring kingdom, continued to be almost unknown in Scotland. Individuals acquired the knowledge of it abroad; but the first attempts to teach it in this country were of a private nature, and exposed their authors to the suspicion of heresy. The town of Montrose is distinguished by being the first place, as far as I have been able to discover, in which Greek was taught in Scotland; and John Erskine of Dun is entitled to the honour of being regarded as the first of his countrymen who patronised the study of that elegant and useful language. As early as the year 1534, this enlightened and public‑spirited baron, on returning from his travels, brought with him a Frenchman skilled in the Greek tongue, whom he settled in Montrose; and, upon his removal, he liberally encouraged others to come from France and succeed to his place. From this private seminary many Greek scholars proceeded, and the knowledge of the language was gradually diffused over the kingdom.12 After this statement, I need scarcely add, that the Oriental tongues were at that time utterly unknown in Scotland. I shall afterwards have occasion to notice the introduction of the study of Hebrew.

Knox acquired the Greek language before he arrived at middle age; but we find him acknowledging, as late as the year 1550, that he was ignorant of Hebrew,13 a defect in his education which he exceedingly lamented, and which he afterwards got supplied during his exile on the continent.

John Mair, better known by his Latin name, Major, was professor of philosophy and theology at Glasgow, when Knox attended the university. The minds of young men, and their future train of thinking, often receive an important direction from the master under whom they are educated, especially if his reputation be high. Major was at that time deemed an oracle in the sciences which he taught; and as he was the preceptor of Knox, and of the celebrated scholar Buchanan,14 it may be proper to advert to some of his opinions. He had received the greater part of his education in France, and acted for some time as a professor in the university of Paris, where he acquired a more liberal habit of thinking and expressing himself on certain subjects, than was yet to be met with in his native country, and in other parts of Europe. He had imbibed the sentiments concerning ecclesiastical polity, maintained by John Gerson and Peter D’Ailly, who so ably defended the decrees of the Council of Constance, and the liberties of the Gallican church, against the advocates for the uncontrollable authority of the Sovereign Pontiff. He taught that a General Council was superior to the pope, and might judge, rebuke, restrain, and even depose him from his dignity; denied the temporal supremacy of the bishop of Rome, and his right to inaugurate or dethrone princes; maintained that ecclesiastical censures, and even papal excommunications, had no force, if pronounced on irrelevant or invalid grounds; he held that tithes were not of divine right, but merely of human appointment; censured the avarice, ambition, and secular pomp of the court of Rome, and of the Episcopal order; was no warm friend of the regular clergy; and advised the reduction of monasteries and holidays.15

His opinions respecting civil governments were analogous to those which he held as to ecclesiastical polity. He taught that the authority of kings and princes was originally derived from the people; that the former are not superior to the latter, collectively considered; that if rulers become tyrannical, or employ their power for the destruction of their subjects, they may lawfully be controlled by them, and proving incorrigible, may be deposed by the community as the superior power; and that tyrants may be judicially proceeded against, even to capital punishments.16

The affinity between these sentiments, and the political principles afterwards avowed by Knox, and defended by the classic pen of Buchanan, is too striking to require illustration. Some of them, indeed, had been taught by at least one Scottish author, who flourished before the time of Major; but it is most probable that the oral instructions and writings of their master first suggested to them the sentiments which they so readily adopted, and which were afterwards confirmed by mature reflection, and more extensive reading; and that, consequently, the important changes which these contributed to accomplish, should be traced in a certain measure to this distinguished professor. Nor, in such circumstances, could his ecclesiastical opinions fail to have a proportionate share of influence on their habits of thinking with respect to religion and the church.

But though, in these respects, the opinions of Major were more free and rational than those generally entertained at that time, it must be confessed, that the portion of instruction which his scholars could derive from him was extremely small, if we allow his publications to be a fair specimen of his academical prelections. Many of the questions which he discusses are utterly useless and trifling; the rest are rendered disgusting by the most servile adherence to all the minutiæ of the scholastic mode of reasoning. The reader of his works must be content with painfully picking a grain of truth from the rubbish of many pages; nor will the drudgery be compensated by those discoveries of inventive genius and acute discrimination, for which the writings of Aquinas, and some others of that subtle school, may still deserve to be consulted. Major is entitled to praise, for exposing to his countrymen several of the more glaring errors and abuses of his time; but his mind was deeply tinctured with superstition, and he defended some of the absurdest tenets of popery by the most ridiculous and puerile arguments.17 His talents were moderate; with the writings of the ancients, he appears to have been acquainted only through the medium of the collectors of the middle ages; nor does he ever hazard an opinion, or pursue a speculation, beyond the limits which had been marked out by some approved doctor of the church. Add to this, that his style is, to an uncommon degree, harsh and forbidding; “exile, aridum, conscissum, ac minutum.”

Knox and Buchanan soon became disgusted with such studies, and began to seek entertainment more gratifying to their ardent and inquisitive minds. Having set out in search of knowledge, they released themselves from the trammels, and overleaped the boundaries, prescribed to them by their timid conductor. Each following the native bent of his genius and inclination, they separated in the prosecution of their studies. Buchanan, indulging in a more excursive range, explored the extensive fields of literature, and wandered in the flowery mead of poesy; while Knox, passing through the avenues of secular learning, devoted himself to the study of divine truth, and the labours of the sacred ministry. Both, however, kept uniformly in view the advancement of true religion and liberty, with the love of which they were equally smitten; and as, during their lives, they suffered a long and painful exile, and were exposed to many dangers, for adherence to this kindred cause, so their memories have not been divided, in the profuse but honourable obloquy with which they have been aspersed by its enemies, and in the deserved and grateful recollections of its genuine friends.18

But we must not suppose, that Knox was able at once to divest himself of the prejudices of his education and of the times. Barren and repulsive as the scholastic studies appear to our minds, there was something in the intricate and subtle sophistry then in vogue, calculated to fascinate the youthful and ingenious mind. It had a shew of wisdom; it exercised, although it did not enrich, the understanding; it even gave play to the imagination, while it served to flatter the pride of the learned adept. Once involved in the mazy labyrinth, it was no easy task to break through it, and to escape into the open field of rational and free inquiry. Accordingly, Knox continued for some time captivated with these studies, and prosecuted them with great success. After he was created Master of Arts, he taught philosophy, most probably as a regent of one of the classes in the university.19 His class became celebrated; and he was considered as equalling, if not excelling his master, in the subtleties of the dialectic art.20 About the same time, although he had no interest but what was procured by his own merit, he was advanced to clerical orders, and was ordained a priest, before he reached the age fixed by the canons of the church.21 This must have taken place previous to the year 1530, at which time he had arrived at his twenty‑fifth year, the canonical age for receiving ordination.

It was not long, however, till his studies received a new direction, which led to a complete revolution in his religious sentiments, and had an important influence on the whole of his future life. Not satisfied with the excerpts from ancient authors, which he found in the writings of the scholastic divines and canonists, he resolved to have recourse to the original works. In them he found a method of investigating and communicating truth, to which he had hitherto been a stranger, and the simplicity of which recommended itself to his mind, in spite of the prejudices of education, and the pride of superior attainments in his own favourite art. Among the fathers of the Christian Church, Jerom and Augustine attracted his particular attention. By the writings of the former, he was led to the Scriptures as the only pure fountain of Divine truth, and instructed in the utility of studying them in the original languages. In the works of the latter, he found religious sentiments very opposite to those taught in the Romish church, who, while she retained his name as a saint in her calendar, had banished his doctrine, as heretical, from her pulpits. From this time, he renounced the study of scholastic theology; and although not yet completely emancipated from superstition, his mind was fitted for improving the means which Providence had prepared, for leading him to a fuller and more comprehensive view of the system of evangelical religion. It was about the year 1535, when this favourable change commenced;22 but, it does not appear that he professed himself a protestant before the year 1542.

As I am now to enter upon that period of Knox’s life at which he renounced the Roman Catholic communion, and commenced Reformer, it may not be improper to take a survey of the state of religion in Scotland at that time. Without an adequate knowledge of this, it is impossible to form a just estimate of the necessity and importance of that reformation, in the advancement of which he laboured with so great zeal; and nothing has contributed so much to give currency, among Protestants, to prejudices against his character, as ignorance, or a superficial consideration of the enormous and almost incredible abuses which then prevailed in the church. This must be my apology for a digression which might otherwise be deemed superfluous or disproportionate.

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The corruptions by which the Christian religion was universally disfigured, before the Reformation, had grown to a greater height in Scotland, than in any other nation within the pale of the Western Church. Superstition and religious imposture, in their grossest forms, gained an easy admission among a rude and ignorant people. By means of these, the clergy attained to an exorbitant degree of opulence and power; which were accompanied, as they always have been, with the corruption of their order, and of the whole system of religion.

The full half of the wealth of the nation belonged to the clergy; and the greater part of this was in the hands of a few individuals, who had the command of the whole body. Avarice, ambition, and the love of secular pomp, reigned among the superior orders. Bishops and abbots rivalled the first nobility in magnificence, and preceded them in honours: they were Privy‑Councillors, and Lords of Session, as well as of Parliament, and had long engrossed the principal offices of state. A vacant bishopric or abbacy called forth powerful competitors, who contended for it as for a principality or petty kingdom; it was obtained by similar arts, and not unfrequently taken possession of by the same weapons.23 Inferior benefices were openly put to sale, or bestowed on the illiterate and unworthy minions of courtiers; on dice‑players, strolling bards, and the bastards of bishops.24 Pluralities were multiplied without bounds, and benefices, given in commendam, were kept vacant, during the life of the commendator, nay, sometimes during several lives;25 so that extensive parishes were frequently deprived for a long course of years, of all religious service,—if a deprivation it could be called, at a time when the cure of souls was no longer regarded as attached to livings originally endowed for that purpose. The bishops never, on any occasion, condescended to preach; indeed, I scarcely recollect an instance of it, mentioned in history, from the erection of the regular Scottish Episcopacy, down to the era of the Reformation.26 The practice had even gone into desuetude among all the secular clergy, and was wholly devolved on the mendicant monks, who employed it for the most mercenary purposes.27

The lives of the clergy, exempted from secular jurisdiction, and corrupted by wealth and idleness, were become a scandal to religion, and an outrage on decency. While they professed chastity, and prohibited, under the severest penalties, any of the ecclesiastical order from contracting lawful wedlock, the bishops set an example of the most shameless profligacy before the inferior clergy; avowedly kept their harlots; provided their natural sons with benefices; and gave their daughters in marriage to the sons of the nobility and principal gentry, many of whom were so mean as to contaminate the blood of their families by such base alliances, for the sake of the rich doweries which they brought.28

Through the blind devotion and munificence of princes and nobles, monasteries, those nurseries of superstition and idleness, had greatly multiplied in the nation; and though they had universally degenerated, and were notoriously become the haunts of lewdness and debauchery, it was deemed impious and sacrilegious to reduce their number, abridge their privileges, or alienate their funds.29 The kingdom swarmed with ignorant, idle, luxurious monks, who, like locusts, devoured the fruits of the earth, and filled the air with pestilential infection; with friars, white, black, and grey; canons regular, and of St Anthony, Carmelites, Carthusians, Cordeliers, Dominicans, Franciscan Conventuals and Observantines, Jacobins, Premonstratensians, monks of Tyrone, and of Vallis Caulium, and Hospitallers, or Holy Knights of St John of Jerusalem; nuns of St Austin, St Clair, St Scholastica, and St Catherine of Sienna, with canonesses of various clans.30

The ignorance of the clergy respecting religion was as gross as the dissoluteness of their morals. Even bishops were not ashamed to confess that they were unacquainted with the canon of their faith, and had never read any part of the sacred scriptures, except what they met with in their missals.31 Under such pastors the people perished for lack of knowledge. That book, which was able to make them wise unto salvation, and intended to be equally accessible to “Jew and Greek, Barbarian and Scythian, bond and free,” was locked up from them, and the use of it, in their own tongue, prohibited under the heaviest penalties. The religious service was mumbled over in a dead language, which many of the priests did not understand, and some of them could scarcely read; and the greatest care was taken to prevent even catechisms, composed and approved by the clergy, from coming into the hands of the laity.32

Scotland, from her local situation, had been less exposed to disturbance from the encroaching ambition, the vexatious exactions, and fulminating anathemas of the Vatican court, than the countries in the immediate vicinity of Rome. But, from the same cause, it was more easy for the domestic clergy to keep up on the minds of the people that excessive veneration for the Holy See, which could not be long felt by those who had the opportunity of witnessing its vices and worldly politics.33 The burdens which attended a state of dependence upon a remote foreign jurisdiction were severely felt. Though the popes did not enjoy the power of presenting to the Scottish prelacies, they wanted not numerous pretexts for interfering with them. The most important causes of a civil nature, which the ecclesiastical courts had contrived to bring within their jurisdiction, were frequently carried to Rome. Large sums of money were annually exported out of the kingdom, for the confirmation of benefices, the conducting of appeals, and many other purposes; in exchange for which, were received leaden bulls, woollen palls, wooden images, old bones, and similar articles of precious consecrated mummery.34

Of the doctrine of Christianity almost nothing remained but the name. Instead of being directed to offer up their adorations to one God, the people were taught to divide them among an innumerable company of inferior divinities. A plurality of mediators shared the honour of procuring the divine favour with the “One Mediator between God and man;” and more petitions were presented to the Virgin Mary and other saints, than to “Him whom the Father heareth always.” The sacrifice of the mass was represented as procuring forgiveness of sins to the living and the dead, to the infinite disparagement of the sacrifice by which Jesus Christ expiated sin and procured everlasting redemption; and the consciences of men were withdrawn from faith in the merits of their Saviour, to a delusive reliance upon priestly absolutions, papal pardons, and voluntary penances. Instead of being instructed to demonstrate the sincerity of their faith and repentance, by forsaking their sins, and to testify their love to God and man, by practising the duties of morality, and observing the ordinances of worship authorized by scripture, they were taught, that, if they regularly said their aves and credos, confessed themselves to a priest, punctually paid their tithes and church‑offerings, purchased a mass, went in pilgrimage to the shrine of some celebrated saint, refrained from flesh on Fridays, or performed some other prescribed act of bodily mortification, their salvation was infallibly secured in due time: while those who were so rich and so pious as to build a chapel or an altar, and to endow it for the support of a priest, to perform masses, obits, and diriges, procured a relaxation of the pains of purgatory for themselves or their relations, in proportion to the extent of their liberality. It is difficult for us to conceive how empty, ridiculous, and wretched, those harangues were which the monks delivered for sermons. Legendary tales concerning the founder of some religious order, his wonderful sanctity, the miracles which he performed, his combats with the devil, his watchings, fastings, flagellations; the virtues of holy water, chrism, crossing, and exorcism; the horrors of purgatory, and the numbers released from it by the intercession of some powerful saint; these, with low jests, table‑talk, and fireside scandal, formed the favourite topics of the preachers, and were served up to the people instead of the pure, salutary, and sublime doctrines of the Bible.35

The beds of the dying were besieged, and their last moments disturbed, by avaricious priests, who laboured to extort bequests to themselves or to the church. Not satisfied with exacting tithes from the living, a demand was made upon the dead; no sooner had a poor husbandman breathed his last, than the rapacious vicar came and carried off his corpse‑present, which he repeated as often as death visited the family.36 Ecclesiastical censures were fulminated against those who were reluctant in making these payments, or who showed themselves disobedient to the clergy; and, for a little money, they were prostituted on the most trifling occasions.37 Divine service was neglected; and, except on festival days, the churches, in many parts of the country, were no longer employed for sacred purposes, but served as sanctuaries for malefactors, places of traffic, or resorts for pastime.38

Persecution, and the suppression of free inquiry, were the only weapons by which its interested supporters were able to defend this system of corruption and imposture. Every avenue by which truth might enter was carefully guarded. Learning was branded as the parent of heresy. The most frightful pictures were drawn of those who had separated from the Romish church, and held up before the eyes of the people, to deter them from imitating their example. If any person, who had attained a degree of illumination amidst the general darkness, began to hint dissatisfaction with the conduct of churchmen, and to propose the correction of abuses, he was immediately stigmatized as a heretic, and, if he did not secure his safety by flight, was immured in a dungeon, or committed to the flames. And when at last, in spite of all their precautions, the light which was shining around did break in and spread through the nation, the clergy prepared to adopt the most desperate and bloody measures for its extinction.

From this imperfect sketch of the state of religion in this country, we may see how false the representation is which some persons would impose on us; as if popery were a system, erroneous, indeed, but purely speculative, superstitious but harmless, provided it had not been accidentally accompanied with intolerance and cruelty. The very reverse is the truth. It may be safely said, that there is not one of its erroneous tenets, or of its superstitious practices, which was not either originally contrived, or afterwards accommodated, to advance and support some practical abuse; to aggrandize the ecclesiastical order, secure to them immunity from civil jurisdiction, sanctify their encroachments upon secular authorities, vindicate their usurpations upon the consciences of men, cherish implicit obedience to the decisions of the church, and extinguish free inquiry and liberal science.

It was a system not more repugnant to the religion of the Bible, than incompatible with the legitimate rights of princes, and the independence, liberty, and prosperity of kingdoms; not more destructive to the souls of men, than to domestic and social happiness, and the principles of sound morality. Considerations from every quarter combined in calling aloud for a radical and complete reform. The exertions of every description of persons, of the man of letters, the patriot, the prince, as well as the Christian, each acting in his own sphere for his own interests, with the joint concurrence of all as in a common cause, were urgently required for extirpating abuses, of which all had reason to complain, and for effectuating a revolution, in the advantages of which all would participate. There was, however, no reasonable prospect of accomplishing this, without exposing, in the first place, the falsehood of those notions which have been called speculative. It was principally by means of these that superstition had established its empire over the minds of men; behind them the Romish ecclesiastics had intrenched themselves, and defended their usurped prerogatives and possessions; and had any prince or legislature endeavoured to deprive them of these, while the great body of the people remained unenlightened, it would soon have been found that the attempt was premature in itself, and replete with danger to those by whom it was made. To the revival of the primitive doctrines and institutions of Christianity, by the preaching and writings of the reformers, and to those controversies by which the popish errors were confuted from scripture, (for which many modern philosophers seem to have a thorough contempt,) we are chiefly indebted for the overthrow of superstition, ignorance, and despotism; and, in fact, all the blessings, political and religious, which we enjoy, may be traced to the Reformation from popery.

How grateful should we be to divine providence for this happy revolution! For those persons do but “sport with their own imaginations,” who flatter themselves that it must have taken place in the ordinary course of human affairs, and overlook the many convincing proofs of the superintending direction of superior wisdom in the whole combination of circumstances which contributed to bring about the Reformation in this country, as well as throughout Europe. How much are we indebted to those men, who, under God, were the instruments in effecting it, men who cheerfully hazarded their lives to achieve a design which involved the felicity of millions unborn; who boldly attacked the system of error and corruption, though fortified by popular credulity, by custom, and by laws, fenced with the most dreadful penalties; and who, having forced the stronghold of superstition, and penetrated the recesses of its temple, tore aside the veil that concealed the monstrous idol which the world had so long ignorantly worshipped, dissolved the spell by which the human mind was bound, and restored it to liberty! How criminal must those be, who, sitting at ease under the vines and fig‑trees, planted by the labours and watered with the blood of these patriots, discover their disesteem of the invaluable privileges which they inherit, or their ignorance of the expense at which they were purchased, by the most unworthy treatment of those to whom they owe them—misrepresent their actions, calumniate their motives, and load their memories with every species of abuse!39

The reformed doctrine had made considerable progress in Scotland before it was embraced by Knox. Patrick Hamilton, a youth of royal lineage,40 obtained the honour, not conferred upon many of his rank of first announcing its glad tidings to his countrymen, and of sealing them with his blood. He was born in the year 1504; and being designed for the church by his relations, the abbacy of Ferne was conferred upon him in his childhood, according to a ridiculous custom which prevailed at that period. But, as early as the year 1526, and previous to the breach of Henry VIII. with the Romish see, a gleam of light was, by some unknown means,41 imparted to his mind, amidst the darkness which brooded around him. His recommendations of ancient literature, at the expense of the philosophy which was then taught in the schools, and the free language which he used in speaking of the corruptions of the church, had already drawn upon him the suspicions of the clergy, when he resolved to leave Scotland, and to improve his mind by travelling on the continent. He set out with three attendants, and, attracted by the fame of Luther, repaired to Wittemberg. Luther and Melanchthon were highly pleased with his zeal; and, after retaining him a short time with them, they recommended him to the university of Marburg. This university was newly erected by that enlightened prince, Philip, landgrave of Hesse, who had placed at its head the learned and pious Francis Lambert of Avignon. Lambert, who had left his native country, and sacrificed a lucrative situation, from love to the reformed religion, conceived a strong attachment to the young Scotsman, who imbibed his instructions with extraordinary avidity. While he was daily advancing in acquaintance with the scriptures, Hamilton was seized with an unconquerable desire of imparting to his countrymen the knowledge which he had acquired. In vain did Lambert represent to him the dangers to which he would be exposed; his determination was fixed; and, taking along with him a single attendant, he left Marburg, and returned to Scotland.42

The clergy did not allow him long time to disseminate his opinions. Pretending to wish a free conference with him, they decoyed him to St Andrews, where he was thrown into prison by archbishop Beatoun, and committed to the flames on the last day of February 1528, and in the twenty‑fourth year of his age. On his trial he defended his opinions with firmness, yet with great modesty; and the mildness, patience, and fortitude, which he displayed at the stake, equalled those of the first martyrs of Christianity. He expired with these words in his mouth: “How long, O Lord, shall darkness cover this realm! How long wilt thou suffer this tyranny of men! Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!”43 “The murder of Hamilton,” says a modern historian,44 “was afterwards avenged in the blood of the nephew and successor of his persecutor;” and the flames in which he expired were, “in the course of one generation, to enlighten all Scotland, and to consume, with avenging fury, the Catholic superstition, the papal power, and the prelacy itself.”

The good effects which resulted from the martyrdom of Hamilton soon began to appear. Many of the learned, as well as of the common people, in St Andrews, beheld with deep interest the cruel death of a person of rank, and could not refrain from admiring the heroism with which he endured it. This excited inquiry into the opinions for which he suffered, and the result of inquiry in many cases was a conviction of their truth. Gawin Logie, principal of St Leonard’s college, was so successful in instilling them into the minds of the students under his care, that it became proverbial to say of any one who was suspected of Lutheranism, that “he had drunk of St Leonard’s well.”45 Under the connivance of John Winram, the subprior, they also secretly spread among the noviciates of the abbey.46

These sentiments were not long confined to St Andrews, and everywhere persons were to be found who held that Patrick Hamilton had died a martyr. Alarmed at the progress of the new opinions, the clergy adopted the most rigorous measures for their extirpation. Strict inquisition was made after heretics; the flames of persecution were kindled in all quarters of the country; and, from 1530 to 1540, many innocent and excellent men suffered the most inhuman death.47 Henry Forrest, David Straiton, Norman Gourlay, Jerom Russel, Kennedy, Kyllor, Beveridge, Duncan Sympson, Robert Forrester, and Thomas Forrest, were the names of those early martyrs, whose sufferings deserve a more conspicuous place than can be given to them in these pages. A few, whose constancy was overcome by the horrors of the stake, purchased their lives by abjuring their opinions. Numbers made their escape to England and the continent; among whom were the following learned men, Gawin Logie, Alexander Seatoun, Alexander Aless, John Macbee, John Fife, John Macdowal, John Macbray, George Buchanan, James Harrison, and Robert Richardson.48 Few of these exiles afterwards returned to their native country. England, Denmark, Germany, France, and even Portugal, offered an asylum to them; and foreign universities and schools enjoyed the benefit of those talents which their bigoted countrymen were incapable of appreciating. To maintain their authority, and to preserve those corruptions from which they derived their wealth, the clergy would willingly have driven into banishment all the learned men in the kingdom, and quenched for ever the light of science in Scotland.

Various causes contributed to prevent these violent measures from arresting the progress of the truth. Among these the first place is unquestionably due to the circulation of the Scriptures in the vulgar language. Against this the patrons of ignorance had endeavoured to guard with the utmost jealousy. But when the desire of knowledge has once been excited among a people, they easily contrive methods of eluding the vigilance of those who would prevent them from gratifying it. By means of merchants who traded, from England and the continent, to the ports of Leith, Dundee, and Montrose, Tindall’s translations of the scriptures, with many protestant books, were imported. These were consigned to persons of tried principles and prudence, who circulated them in private with great industry. One copy of the Bible, or of the New Testament, supplied several families. At the dead hour of night, when others were asleep, they assembled in a private house; the sacred volume was brought from its concealment; and, while one read, the rest listened with mute attention. In this way the knowledge of the scriptures was diffused, at a period when it does not appear that there was a single public teacher of the truth in Scotland.49

Nor must we overlook another means which operated very extensively in alienating the public mind from the established religion. Those who have investigated the causes which led to the Reformation on the continent, have ascribed a considerable share of influence to the writings of the poets and satirists of the age. Poetry has charms for persons of every description; and in return for the pleasure which it affords them, mankind have in all ages been disposed to allow a greater liberty to poets than to any other class of writers. Strange as it may appear, the poets who flourished before the Reformation used very great freedom with the church, and there were not wanting many persons of exalted rank who encouraged them in this species of composition. The same individuals who were ready, at the call of the pope and clergy, to undertake a crusade for extirpating heresy, entertained poets who inveighed against the abuses of the court of Rome, and lampooned the religious orders. One day they assisted at an auto‑da‑fe, in which heretics were committed to the flames for the preservation of the catholic church; next day they were present at the acting of a pantomime or a play, in which the ministers of that church were held up to ridicule. Intoxicated with power, and lulled asleep by indolence, the clergy had either overlooked these attacks, or treated them with contempt; it was only from experience that they learned their injurious tendency; and before they made the discovery, the practice had become so common that it could no longer be restrained. This weapon was wielded with much success by the friends of the Reformed doctrine in Scotland. Some of their number had acquired great celebrity among their countrymen as poets; and others, who could not lay claim to high poetical merit, possessed a talent for wit and humour. They employed themselves in writing satires, in which the ignorance, the negligence, and the immorality, of the clergy were stigmatized, and the absurdities and superstitions of the popish religion exposed to ridicule. These poetical effusions were easily committed to memory, and were circulated without the intervention of the press, which was at that time entirely under the control of the bishops. An attack still more bold was made upon the church. Dramatic compositions, partly written in the same strain, were repeatedly acted in the presence of the royal family, the nobility, and vast assemblies of people, to the great mortification, and the still greater disadvantage, of the clergy. The bishops repeatedly procured the enactment of laws against the circulation of seditious rhymes, and blasphemous ballads; but metrical epistles, moralities, and psalms, in the Scottish language, continued to be read with avidity, notwithstanding prohibitory statutes and legal prosecutions.50

In the year 1540, the reformed doctrine could number among its converts, besides a multitude of the common people, many persons of rank and external respectability: among whom were William, earl of Glencairn; his son Alexander, lord Kilmaurs; William, earl of Errol; William, lord Ruthven; his daughter Lillias, wife of the master of Drummond; John Stewart, son of lord Methven; Sir James Sandilands, Sir David Lindsay, Campbell of Cesnock, Erskine of Dun, Melville of Raith, Balnaves of Halhill, Straiton of Lauriston, with William Johnston, and Robert Alexander, advocates.51 The early period at which they were enrolled as friends to the Reformation, renders these names more worthy of consideration. It has often been alleged, that the desire of sharing in the rich spoils of the popish church, together with the intrigues of the court of England, engaged the Scottish nobles on the side of the reformed religion. At a later period, there is reason to think that this allegation was not altogether groundless. But at the time of which we now speak, the prospect of overturning the established church was too distant and uncertain, to induce persons, who had no higher motive than to gratify avarice, to take a step by which they exposed their lives and fortunes to the most imminent hazard; nor had the English monarch yet extended his influence in Scotland, by those arts of political intrigue which he afterwards employed.

During the two last years of the reign of James V., the numbers of the reformed rapidly increased. Twice did the clergy attempt to cut them off by a desperate blow. They presented to the king a list, containing the names of some hundreds, possessed of property and wealth, whom they denounced as heretics; and endeavoured to procure his consent to their condemnation, by flattering him with the immense riches which would accrue to him from the forfeiture of their estates. When this proposal was first made to him, James rejected it with strong marks of displeasure; but so violent was the antipathy which he at last conceived against his nobility, and so much did he fall under the influence of the clergy, that it is highly probable he would have yielded to the solicitations of the latter, if the disgraceful issue of an expedition, which they had instigated him to undertake against the English, had not impaired his reason, and put an end to his unhappy life, on the 13th of December, 1542.52

PERIOD II.

FROM THE YEAR 1542, WHEN HE EMBRACED THE REFORMED RELIGION, TO THE YEAR 1549, WHEN HE WAS RELEASED FROM THE FRENCH GALLEYS.

While this fermentation of opinion was spreading through the nation, Knox, from the state of his mind, could not remain long unaffected. The reformed doctrines had been imbibed by several persons of his acquaintance, and they were the topic of common conversation and dispute among the learned and inquisitive at the university.53 His change of views first discovered itself in his philosophical lectures, in which he began to forsake the scholastic path, and to recommend to his pupils a more rational and useful method of study. Even this innovation excited against him violent suspicions of heresy, which were confirmed, when he proceeded to reprehend the corruptions that prevailed in the church. He was then teaching at St Andrews; but it was impossible for him to remain long in a town, which was wholly under the power of cardinal Beatoun, the chief supporter of the Romish church, and a determined enemy to all reform. Accordingly he left that place, and retired to the south of Scotland, where he avowed his belief of the protestant doctrine. Provoked by his defection, and alarmed lest he should draw others after him, the clergy were anxious to rid themselves of such an adversary. Having passed sentence against him as a heretic, and degraded him from the priesthood, the cardinal employed assassins to waylay him, by whose hands he must have fallen, had not providence placed him under the protection of Douglas of Langniddrie.54

The change produced in the political state of the kingdom by the death of James V. had great influence upon the Reformation. After a bold but unsuccessful attempt by cardinal Beatoun, to secure to himself the government during the minority of the infant queen, the earl of Arran was peaceably established in the regency. Arran had formerly shown himself attached to the reformed doctrines, and he was now surrounded with counsellors who were of the same principles. Henry VIII. laid hold of this opportunity for accomplishing his favourite measure of uniting the two crowns, and eagerly pressed a marriage between his son Edward and Mary, the young queen of Scots. Notwithstanding the determined opposition of the whole body of the clergy, the Scottish parliament agreed to the match; commissioners were sent into England to settle the terms; and the contract of marriage was drawn out, subscribed, and ratified by all the parties. But through the intrigues of the cardinal and queen‑mother, the fickleness and timidity of the regent, and the violence of the English monarch, the treaty, after proceeding thus far, was broken off; and Arran not only renounced connexion with England, but abjured the reformed religion publicly in the church of Stirling. The Scottish queen was soon after betrothed to the dauphin of France, and sent into that kingdom; a measure which, at a subsequent period, nearly accomplished the ruin of the independence of Scotland, and the extirpation of the protestant religion.

The Reformation had, however, made very considerable progress during the short time that it was patronised by the regent. In 1542, the parliament passed an act, declaring it lawful for all the subjects to read the scriptures in the vulgar language. This act, which was proclaimed in spite of the protestations of the bishops, was a signal triumph of truth over error.55 Formerly, it was reckoned a crime to look on the sacred books; now, to read them was safe, and even the way to honour. The Bible was to be seen on every gentleman’s table; the New Testament was almost in every one’s hands.56 Hitherto the Reformation had been advanced by books imported from England; but now the errors of popery were attacked in publications which issued from the Scottish press. The reformed preachers, whom the regent had chosen as chaplains, disseminated their doctrines throughout the kingdom, and, under the sanction of his authority, made many converts from the Roman catholic faith.57

One of these preachers deserves particular notice here, as it was by means of his sermons that Knox first perceived the beauty of evangelical truth, and had deep impressions of religion made upon his heart.58 Thomas Guillaume, or Williams, was born at Athelstoneford, a village in East Lothian, and had entered into the order of Blackfriars, or Dominican monks, among whom he rose to great eminence.59 But having embraced the sentiments of the reformers, he threw off the monkish habit. His learning and elocution recommended him to Arran and his protestant counsellors; and he was much esteemed by the people as a clear expositor of scripture. When the regent began to waver in his attachment to the Reformation, Guillaume was dismissed from the court, and retired into England, after which I do not find him noticed in history.

But the person to whom our Reformer was most indebted, was George Wishart, a brother of the laird of Pittarow in Mearns. Being driven into banishment by the bishop of Brechin, for teaching the Greek Testament in Montrose, he had resided for some years at the university of Cambridge. In the year 1544, he returned to his native country, in the company of the commissioners who had been sent to negotiate a treaty with Henry VIII. of England. Seldom do we meet, in ecclesiastical history, with a character so amiable and interesting as that of George Wishart. Excelling all his countrymen at that period in learning, of the most persuasive eloquence, irreproachable in life, courteous and affable in manners, his fervent piety, zeal, and courage in the cause of truth, were tempered with uncommon meekness, modesty, patience, prudence, and charity.60 In his tour of preaching through Scotland, he was usually accompanied by some of the principal gentry; and the people, who flocked to hear him, were ravished with his discourses. To this teacher Knox attached himself, and profited greatly by his sermons and private instructions. During the last visit which Wishart paid to Lothian, Knox waited constantly on his person, and bore the sword, which was carried before him, from the time that an attempt was made to assassinate him in Dundee. Wishart was highly pleased with the zeal of his faithful attendant, and seems to have presaged his future usefulness, at the same time that he laboured under a strong presentiment of his own approaching martyrdom. On the night on which he was apprehended by Bothwell at the instigation of the cardinal, he directed the sword to be taken from Knox; and, on the latter insisting for liberty to accompany him to Ormiston, the martyr dismissed him with this reply, “Nay, return to your bairnes,” (meaning his pupils,) “and God bless you: ane is sufficient for a sacrifice.”

Having relinquished all thoughts of officiating in that church which had invested him with clerical orders, Knox had entered as tutor into the family of Hugh Douglas of Langniddrie, a gentleman in East Lothian, who had embraced the reformed doctrines. John Cockburn of Ormiston, a neighbouring gentleman of the same persuasion, also put his son under his tuition. These young men were instructed by him in the principles of religion, as well as in the learned languages. He managed their religious instruction in such a way as to allow the rest of the family, and the people of the neighbourhood, to reap advantage from it. He catechised them publicly in a chapel at Langniddrie, in which he also read, at stated times, a chapter of the Bible, accompanied with explanatory remarks. The memory of this fact has been preserved by tradition, and the chapel, the ruins of which are still apparent, is popularly called John Knox’s Kirk.61

It was not to be expected that he would be suffered long to continue this employment, under a government which was now entirely at the devotion of cardinal Beatoun, who had gained a complete ascendant over the mind of the timid and irresolute regent. But in the midst of his cruelties, and while he was planning still more desperate deeds,62 the cardinal was himself suddenly cut off. A conspiracy was formed against his life; and a small but determined band (some of whom seem to have been instigated by resentment for private injuries, and the influence of the English court, others animated by a desire to revenge his cruelties, and deliver their country from his oppression) seized upon the castle of St Andrews, in which he resided, and put him to death, on the 29th of May, 1546.

The death of Beatoun did not, however, free Knox from persecution. John Hamilton, an illegitimate brother of the regent, who was nominated to the vacant bishoprick, sought his life with as great eagerness as his predecessor. He was obliged to conceal himself, and to remove from place to place, to provide for his safety. Wearied with this mode of living, and apprehensive that he would some day fall into the hands of his enemies, he came to the resolution of leaving Scotland.

England presented the readiest and most natural sanctuary to those who were persecuted by the Scottish prelates. But though they usually fled to that kingdom in the first instance, they did not find their situation comfortable, and the greater part, after a short residence there, proceeded to the continent. Henry VIII., from motives which, to say the least, were highly suspicious, had renounced subjection to the Roman see, and compelled his subjects to follow his example. He invested himself with the ecclesiastical supremacy, within his own dominions, which he had wrested from the bishop of Rome; and in the arrogant and violent exercise of that power, the English pope was scarcely exceeded by any of the pretended successors of St Peter. Having signalized himself at a former period as a literary champion against Luther, he was anxious to demonstrate that his breach with the court of Rome had not alienated him from the catholic faith; and he would suffer none to proceed a step beyond the narrow and capricious line of reform which he was pleased to prescribe. Hence the motley system of religion which he established, and the contradictory measures by which it was supported. Statutes against the authority of the pope, and against the tenets of Luther, were enacted in the same parliament; and papists and protestants were alternately brought to the same stake. The protestants in Scotland were universally dissatisfied with this bastard reformation, a circumstance which had contributed not a little to cool their zeal for the lately proposed alliance with England. Sir Ralph Sadler, his ambassador, found himself in a very awkward predicament on this account; for the papists were offended because he had gone so far from Rome, the protestants because he had gone no farther. The latter disrelished, in particular, the restrictions which he had imposed upon the reading and interpretation of the scriptures, and which he urged the regent to imitate in Scotland. And they had no desire for the king’s book, of which Sadler was furnished with copies to distribute, and which lay as a drug upon his hands.63

On these accounts, Knox had no desire to go to England, where, although “the pope’s name was suppressed, his laws and corruptions remained in full vigour.”64 His determination was to visit Germany, and to prosecute his studies in some of the protestant universities, until he should see a favourable change in the state of his native country. But the lairds of Langniddrie and Ormiston, who were extremely reluctant to part with him, prevailed on him to relinquish his design, and to repair, along with their sons, to the castle of St Andrews.65

The conspirators against cardinal Beatoun kept possession of the castle after his death. The regent had assembled an army and laid siege to it, from a desire not so much to avenge the murder of the cardinal, at whose fall he secretly rejoiced, as to comply with the importunity of the clergy, and to release his eldest son, who had been retained by Beatoun as a pledge of his father’s fidelity, and had now fallen into the hands of the conspirators. But the besieged, having obtained assistance from England, baffled all his skill; and a treaty was at last concluded, by which they engaged to deliver up the castle to the regent, upon his procuring to them from Rome a pardon for the cardinal’s murder. The pardon was obtained; but the conspirators, alarmed, or affecting to be alarmed, at the contradictory terms in which it was expressed, refused to perform their stipulation, and the regent felt himself unable, without foreign aid, to enforce a compliance. In this interval, a number of persons, who were harassed for their attachment to the reformed sentiments, repaired to the castle, where they enjoyed the free exercise of their religion.66

Writers, unfriendly to Knox, have endeavoured to fix an accusation upon him respecting the assassination of cardinal Beatoun. Some have ignorantly asserted, that he was one of the conspirators.67 Others, better informed, have argued that he made himself accessary to their crime, by taking shelter among them.68 With more plausibility, others have appealed to his writings, as a proof that he vindicated the deed of the conspirators as laudable, or at least innocent. I know that some of Knox’s vindicators have denied this charge, and maintain that he justified it only so far as it was the work of God, or a just retribution in providence for the crimes of which the cardinal had been guilty, without approving the conduct of those who were the instruments of punishing him.69 The just judgment of heaven is, I acknowledge, the chief thing to which he directs the attention of his readers; at the same time, I think no one who carefully reads what he has written on this subject, can doubt that he justified the action of the conspirators.70 The truth is, he held the opinion, that persons who, according to the law of God, and the just laws of society, have forfeited their lives, by the commission of flagrant crimes, such as notorious murderers and tyrants, may warrantably be put to death by private individuals, provided all redress, in the ordinary course of justice, is rendered impossible, in consequence of the offenders having usurped the executive authority, or being systematically protected by oppressive rulers. This is an opinion of the same kind with that of tyrannicide, held by so many of the ancients, and defended by Buchanan, in his dialogue, De jure regni apud Scotos. It is a principle, I confess, of very dangerous application, and extremely liable to be abused by factious, fanatical, and desperate men, as a pretext for perpetrating the most nefarious deeds. It would be unjust, however, on this account, to confound it with the principle, which, by giving to individuals a liberty to revenge their own quarrels, legitimates assassination, a practice which was exceedingly common in that age. I may add, that there have been instances of persons, not invested with public authority, taking the execution of punishment into their own hands, whom we may scruple to load with an aggravated charge of murder, although we cannot approve of their conduct.71

Knox entered the castle of St Andrews at the time of Easter, 1547, and conducted the education of his pupils after his accustomed manner. In the chapel within the castle, he read to them lectures upon the scriptures, beginning at the place in the gospel according to John where he had left off at Langniddrie; and he catechised them publicly in the parish church belonging to the city. Among the refugees in the castle who attended these exercises, and who had not been concerned in the conspiracy against Beatoun,72 there were three persons who deserve to be particularly noticed.

Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, Lyon King at Arms, had been a favourite at the court both of James IV. and of his son, James V. He was esteemed one of the first poets of the age, and his writings had contributed greatly to the advancement of the Reformation. Notwithstanding the indelicacy which disfigures several of his poetical productions,73 the personal deportment of Lindsay was grave; his morals were correct; and his writings discover a strong desire to reform the manners of the age, as well as ample proofs of true poetical genius, extensive learning, and wit the most keen and penetrating. He had long lashed the vices of the clergy, and exposed the absurdities and superstitions of popery, in the most popular and poignant satires; being protected by James V. who retained a strong attachment to the companion of his early sports, and the poet who had often amused his leisure hours. After the death of that monarch, he entered zealously into the measures pursued by the earl of Arran at the commencement of his government; and when the regent dismissed his reforming counsellors, Sir David was left exposed to the vengeance of the clergy, who could never forgive the injuries which they had received from his pen.74

Henry Balnaves of Halhill had raised himself, by his talents and probity, from an obscure situation to the highest honours of the state, and was justly regarded as one of the principal ornaments of the reformed cause in Scotland. Descended from poor parents in the town of Kirkcaldy, he travelled, when only a boy, to the continent, and, hearing of a free school in Cologne, he gained admission to it, and received a liberal education, together with instruction in the principles of the protestant religion. Returning to his native country, he applied himself to the study of law, and practised for some time before the consistorial court of St Andrews.75 Notwithstanding the jealousy of the clergy, his reputation daily increased, and he at length obtained a seat in parliament and in the court of Session.76 James V. employed him in managing public affairs of great importance; and at the beginning of Arran’s regency, he was made secretary of State. The active part which he at that time took in the measures for promoting the Reformation, rendered him peculiarly obnoxious to the administration which succeeded, and obliged him to seek shelter within the walls of the castle.77

John Rough, having conceived a disgust at being deprived of some property to which he thought himself entitled, had left his parents, and entered a monastery in Stirling, when he was only seventeen years of age.78 During the time that the light of divine truth was spreading through the nation, and penetrating even the recesses of cloisters, he had felt its influence, and became a convert to the reformed sentiments. The reputation which he had gained as a preacher was such, that, in the year 1543, the earl of Arran procured a dispensation for his leaving the monastery, and appointed him one of his chaplains. Upon the apostacy of Arran from the reformed religion, he retired first into Kyle, and afterwards into the castle of St Andrews, where he was chosen preacher to the garrison.79

These persons were so much pleased with Knox’s talents, and his manner of teaching his pupils, that they urged him strongly to preach in public, and to become colleague to Rough. But he resisted all their solicitations, assigning as his reason, that he did not consider himself as having a call to this employment, and would not be guilty of intrusion. They did not, however, desist from their purpose; but having consulted with their brethren, came to a resolution, without his knowledge, that a call should be publicly given him, in the name of the whole, to become one of their ministers.

Accordingly, on a day fixed for the purpose, Rough preached a sermon on the election of ministers, in which he declared the power which a congregation, however small, had over any one in whom they perceived gifts suited to the office, and how dangerous it was for such a person to reject the call of those who desired instruction. Sermon being concluded, the preacher turned to Knox, who was present, and addressed him in these words: “Brother, you shall not be offended, although I speak unto you that which I have in charge, even from all those that are here present, which is this: In the name of God, and of his Son Jesus Christ, and in the name of all that presently call you by my mouth, I charge you that you refuse not this holy vocation, but as you tender the glory of God, the increase of Christ’s kingdom, the edification of your brethren, and the comfort of me, whom you understand well enough to be oppressed by the multitude of labours, that you take the public office and charge of preaching, even as you look to avoid God’s heavy displeasure, and desire that he shall multiply his graces unto you.” Then, addressing himself to the congregation, he said, “Was not this your charge unto me? and do ye not approve this vocation?” They all answered, “It was; and we approve it.” Overwhelmed by this unexpected and solemn charge, Knox, after an ineffectual attempt to address the audience, burst into tears, rushed out of the assembly, and shut himself up in his chamber. “His countenance and behaviour, from that day till the day that he was compelled to present himself in the public place of preaching, did sufficiently declare the grief and trouble of his heart; for no man saw any sign of mirth from him, neither had he pleasure to accompany any man for many days together.”80

This proof of the sensibility of his temper, and the reluctance which he felt at undertaking a public office, may surprise those who have carelessly adopted the common notions respecting our Reformer’s character; but we shall meet with many examples of the same kind in the course of his life. The scene, too, will be extremely interesting to such as are impressed with the weight of the ministerial function, and will naturally awaken a train of feelings in the breasts of those who have been intrusted with the gospel. It revives the memory of those early days of the church, when persons did not rush forward to the altar, nor beg to “be put into one of the priest’s offices, to eat a piece of bread;” when men of piety and talents, deeply affected with the awful responsibility of the office, and with their own insufficiency, were with great difficulty induced to take on them those orders which they had long desired, and for which they had laboured to qualify themselves. What a contrast did this exhibit to the conduct of the herd, which at that time filled the stalls of the popish church! The behaviour of Knox serves also to reprove those who become preachers of their own accord; and who, from vague and enthusiastic desires of doing good, or a fond conceit of their own gifts, trample upon good order, and thrust themselves into public employment without any regular call.

We must not, however, imagine, that his distress of mind, and the reluctance which he discovered to comply with the call which he had received, proceeded from consciousness of its invalidity, through the defect of certain external formalities which had been usual in the church, or which, in ordinary cases, may be observed with propriety in the installation of persons into sacred offices. These, as far as warranted by scripture, or conducive to the preservation of order, he did not contemn; and his judgment respecting them may be learned from the early practice of the Scottish reformed church, in the organization of which he had so active a share. In common with all the original reformers, he rejected the necessity of episcopal ordination, as totally unauthorized by the laws of Christ; nor did he even regard the imposition of the hands of presbyters as a rite essential to the validity of orders, or of necessary observance in all circumstances of the church. The papists, indeed, did not fail to declaim on this topic, representing Knox, and other reformed ministers, as destitute of all lawful vocation. In the same strain did many hierarchical writers of the English church afterwards learn to talk, not scrupling, by their extravagant doctrine of the absolute necessity of ordination by the hands of a bishop who derived his powers by uninterrupted succession from the apostles, to invalidate and nullify the orders of all the reformed churches, except their own; a doctrine which has been revived in the present enlightened age, and unblushingly avowed and defended, with the greater part of its absurd, illiberal, and horrid consequences. The fathers of the English reformation, however, were very far from entertaining such contracted and unchristian sentiments. When Knox afterwards went to England, they accepted his services without the smallest hesitation. They maintained a constant correspondence with the reformed divines on the continent, and cheerfully owned them as brethren and fellow‑labourers in the ministry. And they were not so ignorant of their principles, nor so forgetful of their character, as to prefer ordination by popish prelates to that which was conferred by protestant presbyters.81 I will not say that our Reformer utterly disregarded his early ordination in the popish church, although, if we may credit the testimony of his adversaries, this was his sentiment;82 but I have little doubt that he looked upon the charge which he received at St Andrews as principally constituting his call to the ministry.

His distress of mind on the present occasion proceeded from a higher source than the deficiency of some external formalities in his call. He had now very different thoughts as to the importance of the ministerial office, from what he had entertained when ceremoniously invested with orders. The care of immortal souls, of whom he must give an account to the chief bishop; the charge of declaring “the whole counsel of God, keeping nothing back,” however ungrateful it might be to his hearers; the manner of life, afflictions, persecutions, imprisonment, exile, and violent death, to which the preachers of the protestant doctrine were exposed; the hazard of his sinking under these hardships, and “making shipwreck of faith and a good conscience;”—these, with similar considerations, rushed into his mind, and filled it with anxiety and fear. Satisfied, at length, that he had the call of God to engage in this work, he composed his mind to a reliance on him who had engaged to make his “strength perfect in the weakness” of his servants, and resolved, with the apostle, “not to count his life dear, that he might finish with joy the ministry which he received of the Lord, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.” Often did he afterwards reflect with lively emotion upon this very interesting step of his life, and never, in the midst of his greatest sufferings, did he see reason to repent of the choice which he had so deliberately made.

An occurrence which took place about this time contributed to fix his wavering resolution, and induced an earlier compliance with the call of the congregation than he might otherwise have been disposed to yield. Though sound in doctrine, Rough’s literary acquirements were moderate. Of this circumstance the patrons of the established religion in the university and abbey took advantage; and among others, dean John Annand83 had long proved vexatious to him, by stating objections to the doctrine which he preached, and entangling him with sophisms, or garbled quotations from the fathers. Knox had assisted the preacher with his pen, and by his superior skill in logic and the writings of the fathers, had exposed Annand’s fallacies, and confuted the popish errors. This polemic, being, one day, at a public disputation in the parish church, driven from all his usual defences, fled, as his last refuge, to the infallible authority of the church, which, he alleged, had rendered all further debate on these points unnecessary, in consequence of its having condemned the tenets of the Lutherans as heretical. To this Knox replied, that, before they could submit to such a summary determination of the matters in controversy, it was requisite to ascertain the true church by the marks given in scripture, lest they should blindly receive, as their spiritual mother, “a harlot instead of the immaculate spouse of Jesus Christ.” “For,” continued he, “as for your Roman church, as it is now corrupted, wherein stands the hope of your victory, I no more doubt that it is the synagogue of Satan, and the head thereof, called the pope, to be that man of sin of whom the apostle speaks, than I doubt that Jesus Christ suffered by the procurement of the visible church of Jerusalem. Yea, I offer myself, by word or writing, to prove the Roman church this day farther degenerate from the purity which was in the days of the apostles, than were the church of the Jews from the ordinances given by Moses, when they consented to the innocent death of Jesus Christ.” This was a bold charge; but the minds of the people were prepared to listen to the proof. They exclaimed, that, if this was true, they had been miserably deceived, and insisted that, as they could not all read his writings, he should ascend the pulpit, and give them an opportunity of hearing the probation of what he had so confidently affirmed. The request was reasonable, and the challenge was not to be retracted. The following Sabbath was accordingly fixed for making good his promise.

On the day appointed, he appeared in the pulpit of the parish church, and gave out the twenty‑fourth and twenty‑fifth verses of the seventh chapter of Daniel, as his text. After an introduction, in which he explained the vision, and showed that the four animals hieroglyphically represented four empires—the Babylonian, Persian, Grecian, and Roman, out of the ruins of the last of which rose the empire described in his text, he proceeded to show that this was applicable to no power but the papal. He compared the parallel passages in the New Testament, and showed that the king mentioned in his text was the same elsewhere called the Man of Sin, the Antichrist, the Babylonian harlot; and that, in prophetical style, these expressions did not describe a single person, but a body or multitude of people under a wicked head, including a succession of persons occupying the same place. In support of his assertion, that the papal power was antichristian, he described it under the three heads of life, doctrine, and laws. He depicted the scandalous lives of the popes from records published by Roman catholic writers, and contrasted their doctrine and laws with those of the New Testament, particularly on the heads of justification, holidays, and abstinence from meats and from marriage. He quoted from the canon law the blasphemous titles and prerogatives ascribed to the pope, as an additional proof that he was described in his text.84 In conclusion, he signified that, if any of his hearers thought that he had misquoted or misinterpreted the testimonies which he had produced from the scriptures, ecclesiastical history, or the writings of the fathers, he was ready, upon their coming to him, in the presence of witnesses, to give them satisfaction. Among the audience were his former preceptor, Major, and the other members of the university, the sub‑prior of the abbey, and a great number of canons and friars of different orders.

This sermon, delivered with a considerable portion of that popular eloquence for which Knox was afterwards so celebrated, made a great noise, and excited much speculation among all classes.85 The preachers who had preceded him, not even excepting Wishart, had contented themselves with refuting some of the grosser errors of the established religion; Knox struck at the root of popery, by boldly pronouncing the pope to be antichrist, and the whole system erroneous and antiscriptural. The report of this sermon, and of the effects produced by it, having reached Hamilton, the bishop‑elect of St Andrews, he wrote to Winram, who was vicar‑general during the vacancy of the see, expressing his surprise that such heretical and schismatical tenets were allowed to be taught without opposition. Winram was at bottom friendly to the reformed doctrine; but he durst not altogether disregard this admonition, and therefore appointed a convention of the learned men of the abbey and university to be held in St Leonard’s Yards, to which he summoned Knox and Rough.

The two preachers appeared before that assembly. Nine articles, drawn from their sermons, were exhibited, “the strangeness of which,” the sub‑prior said, “had moved him to call for them to hear their answers.” Knox conducted the defence, for himself and his colleague, with much acuteness and moderation. He expressed high satisfaction at appearing before an auditory so honourable, modest, and grave. As he was not a stranger to the report concerning the private sentiments of Winram, and nothing was more abhorrent to his own mind than dissimulation, he, before commencing his defence, obtested him to deal uprightly in a matter of such magnitude. “The people,” he said, “ought not to be deceived or left in the dark; if his colleague and he had advanced any thing unscriptural, he wished the sub‑prior by all means to expose it; but if, on the other hand, the doctrine taught by them was true, it was his duty to give it the sanction of his authority.” Winram cautiously replied, that he did not come there as a judge, and would neither approve nor condemn; he wished a free conference, and, if Knox pleased, he would reason with him a little. Accordingly, he proceeded to state some objections to one of the propositions maintained by Knox, “That, in the worship of God, and especially in the administration of the sacraments, the rule prescribed in the scriptures is to be observed without addition or diminution; and that the church has no right to devise religious ceremonies, and impose significations upon them.” After maintaining the argument for a short time, the sub‑prior devolved it on a grey‑friar, named Arbugkill, who took it up with great confidence, but was soon forced to yield with disgrace. He rashly engaged to prove the divine institution of ceremonies; and, being pushed by his antagonist from the gospels and acts to the epistles, and from one epistle to another, he was driven at last to affirm, “that the apostles had not received the Holy Ghost when they wrote the epistles, but they afterwards received him, and ordained ceremonies.” Knox smiled at the extravagant assertion. “Father!” exclaimed the sub‑prior, “what say ye? God forbid that ye say that! for then farewell the ground of our faith.” Alarmed and abashed, the friar attempted to correct his error, but in vain. He could not afterwards be brought to argument upon any of the articles, but resolved all into the authority of the church. His opponent urging that the church could have no authority to act in opposition to the express directions of scripture, which enjoined an exact conformity to the divine laws respecting worship: “If so,” said Arbugkill, “you will leave us no church.” “Yes,” rejoined Knox, sarcastically, “in David I read of the church of malignants. Odi ecclesiam malignantium; this church you may have without the word, and fighting against it. Of this church if you will be, I cannot hinder you; but as for me, I will be of no other church but that which has Jesus Christ for pastor, hears his voice, and will not hear the voice of a stranger.” For purgatory, the friar had no better authority than that of Virgil in the sixth Æneid; and the pains of it, according to him, were—a bad wife.86

Solventur risu tabulæ; tu missus abibis.

Instructed by the issue of this convention, the papists avoided for the future all disputation, which tended only to injure their cause. Had the castle of St Andrews been in their power, they would soon have silenced these troublesome preachers; but as matters stood, more moderate and crafty measures were necessary. The plan adopted for counteracting the popular preaching of Knox and Rough was artfully laid. Orders were issued, that all the learned men of the abbey and university should preach by turns every Sunday in the parish church. By this means the reformed preachers were excluded on those days, when the greatest audiences attended; and it was expected that the diligence of the established clergy would conciliate the affections of the people. To avoid offence or occasion of speculation, they were also instructed not to touch in their sermons upon any of the controverted points. Knox easily saw through this artifice; but he contented himself with expressing a wish, in the sermons which he still delivered on week days, that the clergy would show themselves equally diligent in places where their labours were more necessary. He, at the same time, expressed his satisfaction that Christ was preached, and that nothing was spoken publicly against the truth; if any thing of this kind should be attempted, he requested the people to suspend their judgment, until they should have an opportunity of hearing him in reply.87

His labours were so successful, during the few months that he preached at St Andrews, that, besides the garrison in the castle, a great number of the inhabitants of the town renounced popery, and made profession of the protestant faith, by participating of the Lord’s supper. This was the first time that the sacrament of the supper was dispensed after the reformed mode in Scotland; if we except the administration of it by Wishart in the same place, which was performed with great privacy, immediately before his martyrdom.88 Those who preceded Knox appear to have contented themselves with preaching; and such as embraced their doctrine had most probably continued to receive the sacraments from the popish clergy, at least from such of them as were most friendly to the reformation of the church. The gratification which he felt in these first fruits of his ministry, was considerably abated by instances of vicious conduct in the persons under his charge, some of whom were guilty of those acts of licentiousness which are too common among soldiery when placed in similar circumstances. From the time that he was chosen to be their preacher, he had openly rebuked these disorders; and when he perceived that his admonitions failed in putting a stop to them, he did not conceal his apprehensions of the unsuccessful issue of the enterprise in which they were engaged.89

In the end of June 1547, a French fleet, with a considerable body of land forces, under the command of Leo Strozzi, appeared before St Andrews, to assist the governor in the reduction of the castle. It was invested both by sea and land; and being disappointed of the expected aid from England, the besieged, after a brave and vigorous resistance, were under the necessity of capitulating to the French commander on the last day of July. The terms which they obtained were honourable; the lives of all in the castle were to be spared, they were to be transported to France, and if they did not choose to enter into the service of the French king, were to be conveyed to any country which they might prefer, except Scotland. John Rough had left them previous to the commencement of the siege, and retired to England.90 Knox, although he did not expect that the garrison would be able to hold out, could not prevail upon himself to desert his charge, and resolved to share with his brethren in the hazard of the siege. He was conveyed along with them on board the fleet, which, in a few days, set sail for France, arrived at Fecamp, and, going up the Seine, anchored before Rouen. The capitulation was violated, and they were all detained prisoners of war, at the solicitation of the pope and Scottish clergy. The principal gentlemen were incarcerated in Rouen, Cherburg, Brest and Mont St Michel. Knox, with a few others, was confined on board the galleys, and in addition to the rigours of ordinary captivity, was loaded with chains, and exposed to all the indignities with which papists were accustomed to treat those whom they regarded as heretics.91

From Rouen they sailed to Nantes, and lay upon the Loire during the following winter. Solicitations, threatenings, and violence, were all employed to induce the prisoners to change their religion, or at least to countenance the popish worship. But so great was their abhorrence of that system, that not a single individual of the whole company, on land or water, could be induced to symbolize in the smallest degree with idolaters. While the prison‑ships lay on the Loire, mass was frequently said, and salve regina sung, on board, or on the shore within their hearing. On these occasions they were brought out and threatened with the torture, if they did not give the usual signs of reverence; but instead of complying, they covered their heads as soon as the service began. Knox has preserved, in his history, a humorous incident which took place on one of these occasions; and although he has not said so, it is highly probable that he himself was the person concerned in the affair. One day a fine painted image of the Virgin was brought into one of the galleys, and a Scottish prisoner was desired to give it the kiss of adoration. He refused, saying that such idols were accursed, and he would not touch it. “But you shall,” replied one of the officers roughly, at the same time forcing it towards his mouth. Upon this the prisoner seized the image, and throwing it into the river, said, “Lat our Ladie now save hirself; sche is lycht enoughe, lat hir leirne to swyme.” The officers with difficulty saved their goddess from the waves; and the prisoners were relieved for the future from such troublesome importunities.92

In summer 1548, as nearly as I can collect, the galleys in which they were confined returned to Scotland, and continued for a considerable time on the east coast, watching for English vessels. Knox’s health was now greatly impaired by the severity of his confinement, and he was seized with a fever, during which his life was despaired of by all in the ship.93 But even in this state, his fortitude of mind remained unsubdued,94 and he comforted his fellow‑prisoners with hopes of release. To their anxious desponding inquiries (natural to men in their situation), “if he thought they would ever obtain their liberty,” his uniform answer was, “God will deliver us to his glory, even in this life.” While they lay on the coast between Dundee and St Andrews, Mr (afterwards Sir) James Balfour, who was confined in the same ship with him, pointed to the spires of St Andrews, and asked him if he knew the place. “Yes,” replied the sickly and emaciated captive, “I know it well; for I see the steeple of that place where God first opened my mouth in public to his glory; and I am fully persuaded, how weak soever I now appear, that I shall not depart this life, till that my tongue shall glorify his godly name in the same place.” This striking reply Sir James repeated, in the presence of a number of witnesses, many years before Knox returned to Scotland, and when there was very little prospect of his words being verified.95

We must not, however, think that he possessed this tranquillity and elevation of mind, during the whole period of his imprisonment. When first thrown into fetters, insulted by his enemies, and deprived of all prospect of release, he was not a stranger to the anguish of despondency, so pathetically described by the royal psalmist of Israel.96 He felt that conflict in his spirit, with which all good men are acquainted, and which becomes peculiarly sharp when aggravated by corporal affliction. But, having had recourse to prayer, the never‑failing refuge of the oppressed, he was relieved from all his fears, and, reposing upon the promise and the providence of the God whom he served, he attained to “the confidence and rejoicing of hope.” Those who wish for a more particular account of the state of his mind at this time, will find it in the notes, extracted from a rare work which he composed on prayer, and the chief materials of which were suggested by his own experience.97

When free from fever, he relieved the tedious hours of captivity, by committing to writing a confession of his faith, containing the substance of what he had taught at St Andrews, with a particular account of the disputation which he had maintained in St Leonard’s Yards. This he found means to convey to his religious acquaintances in Scotland, accompanied with an earnest exhortation to persevere in the faith which they had professed, whatever persecutions they might suffer for its sake.98 To this confession I find him referring, in the defence which he afterwards made before the bishop of Durham. “Let no man think, that because I am in the realm of England, therefore so boldly I speak. No: God hath taken that suspicion from me. For the body lying in most painful bands, in the midst of cruel tyrants, his mercy and goodness provided that the hand should write and bear witness to the confession of the heart, more abundantly than ever yet the tongue spake.”99

Notwithstanding the rigour of their confinement, the prisoners who were separated found opportunities of occasionally corresponding with one another. Henry Balnaves of Hallhill had composed, in his prison, a treatise on Justification and the Works and Conversation of a Justified Man. This having been conveyed to Knox, probably after his return from the coast of Scotland, he was so much pleased with the work, that he divided it into chapters, and added some marginal notes, and a concise epitome of its contents; to the whole he prefixed a recommendatory dedication, intending that it should be published for the use of his brethren in Scotland, as soon as an opportunity offered.100 The reader will not, I am persuaded, be displeased to have some extracts from this dedication, which represent, more forcibly than any description of mine can do, the pious and heroic spirit which animated the Reformer, when “his feet lay in irons;” and I shall quote more freely, as the book is rare.

It is thus inscribed:101 “John Knox, the bound servant of Jesus Christ, unto his best beloved brethren of the congregation of the castle of St Andrews, and to all professors of Christ’s true evangel, desireth grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, with perpetual consolation of the Holy Spirit.” After mentioning a number of instances in which the name of God had been magnified, and the interests of religion advanced, by the exile of those who were driven from their native countries by tyranny, as in the examples of Joseph, Moses, Daniel, and the primitive Christians, he goes on thus: “Which thing shall openly declare this godly work subsequent. The counsel of Satan in the persecution102 of us, first, was to stop the wholesome wind of Christ’s evangel to blow upon the parts where we converse and dwell; and, secondly, so to oppress ourselves by corporal affliction and worldly calamities, that no place should we find to godly study. But by the great mercy and infinite goodness of God our Father, shall these his counsels be frustrate and vain. For, in despite of him and all his wicked members, shall yet that same word (O Lord! this I speak, confiding in thy holy promise) openly be proclaimed in that same country. And how that our merciful Father, amongst these tempestuous storms, by103 all men’s expectation, hath provided some rest for us, this present work shall testify, which was sent to me in Roane, lying in irons, and sore troubled by corporal infirmity, in a galley named Nostre Dame, by an honourable brother, Mr Henry Balnaves of Hallhill, for the present holden as prisoner, (though unjustly) in the old palace of Roane.104 Which work after I had once again read, to the great comfort and consolation of my spirit, by counsel and advice of the foresaid noble and faithful man, author of the said work, I thought expedient it should be digested in chapters, &c. Which thing I have done as imbecility of ingine105 and incommodity of place would permit; not so much to illustrate the work (which in the self is godly and perfect) as, together with the foresaid nobleman and faithful brother, to give my confession of the article of justification therein contained.106 And I beseech you, beloved brethren, earnestly to consider, if we deny any thing presently, (or yet conceal and hide,) which any time before we professed in that article. And now we have not the castle of St Andrews to be our defence, as some of our enemies falsely accused us, saying, If we wanted our walls, we would not speak so boldly. But blessed be that Lord whose infinite goodness and wisdom hath taken from us the occasion of that slander, and hath shown unto us, that the serpent hath power only to sting the heel, that is, to molest and trouble the flesh, but not to move the spirit from constant adhering to Christ Jesus, nor public professing of his true word. O blessed be thou, Eternal Father! which, by thy only mercy, hast preserved us to this day, and provided that the confession of our faith (which ever we desired all men to have known) should, by this treatise, come plainly to light. Continue, O Lord! and grant unto us, that, as now with pen and ink, so shortly we may confess with voice and tongue the same before thy congregation; upon whom look, O Lord God! with the eyes of thy mercy, and suffer no more darkness to prevail. I pray you pardon me, beloved brethren, that on this manner I digress: vehemency of spirit (the Lord knoweth I lie not) compelleth me thereto.”

The prisoners in Mont St Michel consulted Knox, as to the lawfulness of attempting to escape by breaking their prison, which was opposed by some of them, lest their escape should subject their brethren who remained in confinement to more severe treatment. He returned for answer, that such fears were not a sufficient reason for relinquishing the design, and that they might, with a safe conscience, effect their escape, provided it could be done “without the blood of any shed or spilt; but to shed any man’s blood for their freedom, he would never consent.”107 The attempt was accordingly made by them, and successfully executed, “without harm done to the person of any, and without touching any thing that appertained to the king, the captain, or the house.”108

At length, after enduring a tedious and severe imprisonment of nineteen months, Knox obtained his liberty. This happened in the month of February, 1549, according to the modern computation.109 By what means his liberation was procured I cannot certainly determine. One account says, that the galley in which he was confined was taken in the Channel by the English.110 According to another account, he was liberated by order of the king of France, because it appeared, on examination, that he was not concerned in the murder of cardinal Beatoun, nor accessory to other crimes committed by those who held the castle of St Andrews.111 In the opinion of others, his liberty was purchased by his acquaintances, who fondly cherished the hope that he was destined to accomplish some great achievements, and were anxious, by their interposition in his behalf, to be instrumental in promoting the designs of providence.112 It is more probable, however, that he owed his deliverance to the comparative indifference with which he and his brethren were now regarded by the French court, who, having procured the consent of the parliament of Scotland to the marriage of queen Mary to the dauphin, and obtained possession of her person, felt no longer any inclination to revenge the quarrels of the Scottish clergy.

PERIOD III.

FROM THE YEAR 1549, WHEN HE WAS RELEASED FROM THE FRENCH GALLEYS, TO THE YEAR 1554, WHEN HE FLED FROM ENGLAND.

Upon regaining his liberty, Knox immediately repaired to England. The objections which he had formerly entertained against a residence in that kingdom were now in a great measure removed. Henry VIII. had died in the year 1547; and archbishop Cranmer, released from the severe restraint under which he had been held by his tyrannical and capricious master, now exerted himself with much zeal in advancing the Reformation. In this he was cordially supported by those who governed the kingdom during the minority of Edward VI. But the undertaking was extensive and difficult; and, in carrying it on, he found a great deficiency of ecclesiastical coadjutors. Although the most of the bishops had externally complied with the alterations introduced by authority, they remained attached to the old religion, and secretly thwarted, instead of seconding, the measures of the primate. The inferior clergy were, in general, as unable as they were unwilling to undertake the instruction of the people,113 whose ignorance of religion was in many parts of the country extreme, and whose superstitious habits had become quite inveterate. This evil, which prevailed universally throughout the popish church, instead of being corrected, was considerably aggravated by a ruinous measure adopted at the commencement of the English reformation. When Henry suppressed the monasteries, and seized their revenues, he allotted pensions to the monks during life; but to relieve the royal treasury of this burden, small benefices in the gift of the crown were afterwards substituted in the place of pensions. The example of the monarch was imitated by the nobles who had procured monastic lands. By this means a great part of the inferior livings were held by ignorant and superstitious monks, who were a dead weight upon the English church, and a principal cause of the nation’s sudden relapse to popery, at the subsequent accession of queen Mary.114

Cranmer had already adopted measures for remedying this alarming evil. With the concurrence of the protector and privy council, he had invited a number of learned protestants from Germany into England, and had placed Peter Martyr, Martin Bucer, Paul Fagius, and Emanuel Tremellius, as professors in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. This was a wise measure, which secured a future supply of useful preachers, trained up by these able masters; but the necessity was urgent, and demanded immediate provision. For this purpose, instead of fixing a number of orthodox and popular preachers in particular charges, it was judged most expedient to employ them in itinerating through different parts of the kingdom, where the clergy were most illiterate or disaffected to the Reformation, and where the inhabitants were most addicted to superstition.

In these circumstances, our zealous countryman did not remain long unemployed. The reputation which he had gained by his preaching at St Andrews,115 and his late sufferings, recommended him to the English council; and soon after his arrival in England, he was sent down from London to preach in Berwick.116

The council had every reason to be pleased with the choice which they had made of a northern preacher. He had long thirsted for the opportunity which he now enjoyed. His love for the truth, and his zeal against popery, had been inflamed during his captivity, and he spared neither time nor labour in the instruction of those to whom he was sent. Regarding the worship of the Romish church as idolatrous, and its doctrines as damnable, he attacked both with the utmost fervour, and exerted himself in drawing his hearers from the belief of the one, and from the observance of the other, with as much eagerness as if he had been saving their lives from a devouring flame or flood. Nor were his efforts fruitless. During the two years that he continued in Berwick, numbers were converted by his ministry from ignorance and the errors of popery; and a visible reformation of manners was produced upon the soldiers of the garrison, who had formerly been noted for licentiousness and turbulence.117

The popularity and success of a protestant preacher were very galling to the clergy in that quarter, who were, almost to a man, bigoted papists, and enjoyed the patronage of the bishop of the diocese. Tonstal, bishop of Durham, like his friend Sir Thomas More, was one of those men of whom it is extremely difficult to give a correct idea, qualities of an opposite kind being mixed and blended in his character. Surpassing all his brethren in polite learning, he was the patron of bigotry and superstition. Displaying, in private life, that moderation and suavity of manners which liberal studies usually inspire,118 he was accessory to the public measures of a reign disgraced throughout by the most shocking barbarities. Claiming our praise for honesty by opposing in parliament innovations which his judgment condemned, he forfeited it by the most tame acquiescence and ample conformity; thereby maintaining his station amidst all the revolutions of religion during three successive reigns. He had paid little attention to the science immediately connected with his profession, and most probably was indifferent to the controversies then agitated; but, living in an age in which it was necessary for every man to choose his side, he adhered to those opinions which had been long established, and which were friendly to the power and splendour of the ecclesiastical order. As if anxious to atone for his fault, in having been instrumental in producing a breach between England and the Roman see, he opposed in parliament all the subsequent changes. Opposition awakened his zeal; he became at last a strenuous advocate for the popish tenets; and wrote a book in defence of transubstantiation, of which, says bishop Burnet, “the Latin style is better than the divinity.”

The labours of one who exerted himself to overthrow what the bishop wished to support, could not fail to be very disagreeable to Tonstal. As Knox acted under the authority of the protector and council, he durst not inhibit him; but he was disposed to listen to the informations which were lodged against him by the clergy. Although the town of Berwick was Knox’s principal station during the years 1549 and 1550, it is probable that he was appointed to preach occasionally in the adjacent country. Whether, in the course of his itinerancy, he had preached in Newcastle, or whether he was called up to it in consequence of complaints against the sermons which he had delivered at Berwick, it is difficult to ascertain. It is, however, certain, that a charge was exhibited against him before the bishop, for teaching that the sacrifice of the mass was idolatrous, and that a day was appointed for him publicly to assign his reasons for this opinion.

Accordingly, on the 4th of April, 1550, a large assembly being convened in Newcastle, among whom were the members of the council,119 the bishop of Durham, and the learned men of his cathedral, Knox delivered in their presence an ample defence of his doctrine. After an appropriate exordium, in which he stated to the audience the occasion and design of his appearance, and cautioned them against the powerful prejudices of education and custom in favour of erroneous opinions and corrupt practices in religion, he proceeded to establish the doctrine which he had taught. The manner in which he treated the subject was well adapted to his auditory, which was composed both of the learned and the illiterate. He proposed his arguments in the syllogistic form, according to the practice of the schools, but illustrated them with a plainness level to the meanest capacity among his hearers. The propositions on which he rested his defence are very descriptive of his characteristic boldness of thinking and acting. A more cautious and timid disputant would have satisfied himself with attacking the grosser notions which were generally entertained by the people on this subject, and exposing the glaring abuses of which the priests were guilty in the lucrative sale of masses. Knox scorned to occupy himself in demolishing these feeble and falling outworks, and proceeded directly to establish a principle which overthrew the whole fabric of superstition. He engaged to prove that the mass, “even in her most high degree,” and when stripped of the meretricious dress in which she now appeared, was an idol struck from the inventive brain of superstition, which had supplanted the sacrament of the supper, and engrossed the honour due to the person and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. “Spare no arrows,” was Knox’s motto; the authority of scripture, and the force of reasoning, grave reproof, and pointed irony, were weapons which he alternately employed. In the course of this defence, he did not restrain those sallies of raillery, which the fooleries of the popish superstition irresistibly provoke, even from such as are deeply impressed with its pernicious tendency. Before concluding his discourse, he adverted to certain doctrines which he had heard in that place on the preceding sabbath, the falsehood of which he engaged to demonstrate; but, in the first place, he said, he would submit the notes of the sermon, which he had taken down, to the preacher, that he might correct them as he saw proper; for his object was not to misrepresent, or captiously entrap a speaker, by catching at words unadvisedly uttered, but to defend the truth, and warn his hearers against errors destructive to their souls. The defence, as drawn up by Knox himself, is now before me in manuscript, and the reader who wishes a more particular account of its contents, will find it in the notes.120

This defence had the effect of extending Knox’s fame through the north of England, while it completely silenced the bishop and his learned assistants.121 He continued to preach at Berwick during the remaining part of this year, and in the following was removed to Newcastle, and placed in a sphere of greater usefulness. In December 1551, the privy council conferred on him a mark of their approbation, by appointing him one of king Edward’s chaplains in ordinary. “It was appointed,” says his majesty, in a journal of important transactions which he wrote with his own hand, “that I should have six chaplains ordinary, of which two ever to be present, and four absent in preaching; one year, two in Wales, two in Lancashire and Derby; next year, two in the marches of Scotland, and two in Yorkshire; the third year, two in Norfolk and Essex, and two in Kent and Sussex. These six to be Bill, Harle,122 Perne, Grindal, Bradford, and ――.”123 The name of the sixth has been dashed out of the journal, but the industrious Strype has shown that it was Knox.124 “These, it seems, were the most zealous and readiest preachers, who were sent about as itinerants, to supply the defects of the greatest part of the clergy, who were generally very faulty.”125 An annual salary of forty pounds was allotted to each of the chaplains.126

In the course of this year, Knox was consulted about the Book of Common Prayer, which was undergoing a revisal. On that occasion, it is probable that he was called up for a short time to London. Although the persons who had the chief direction of ecclesiastical affairs were not disposed, or did not deem it as yet expedient, to introduce that thorough reform which he judged necessary, in order to reduce the worship of the English church to the scripture‑model, his representations on this head were not altogether disregarded. He had influence to procure an important change in the communion‑office, completely excluding the notion of the corporal presence of Christ in the sacrament, and guarding against the adoration of the elements, which was too much countenanced by the practice still continued, of kneeling at their reception.127 In his Admonition to the Professors of the Truth in England, Knox speaks of these amendments with great satisfaction. “Also God gave boldness and knowledge to the court of parliament to take away the round clipped god, wherein standeth all the holiness of the papists, and to command common bread to be used at the Lord’s table, and also to take away the most part of superstitions (kneeling at the Lord’s table excepted) which before profaned Christ’s true religion.” These alterations gave great offence to the papists. In a disputation with Latimer, after the accession of queen Mary, the prolocutor, Dr Weston, complained of our countryman’s influence in procuring them. “A runnagate Scot did take away the adoration or worshipping of Christ in the sacrament, by whose procurement that heresy was put into the last communion‑book; so much prevailed that one man’s authority at that time.”128 In the following year, he was employed in revising the Articles of Religion, previous to their ratification by parliament.129

During his residence at Berwick, he had formed an acquaintance with Marjory Bowes, a young lady who afterwards became his wife. Her father, Richard Bowes, was the youngest son of Sir Ralph Bowes of Streatlam; her mother was Elizabeth, the daughter and one of the co‑heirs of Sir Roger Aske of Aske.130 Before he left Berwick, Knox had paid his addresses to this young lady, and met with a favourable reception. Her mother also was friendly to the match; but, owing to some reason, most probably the presumed aversion of her father, it was deemed prudent to delay solemnizing the union. But having come under a formal promise to her, he considered himself, from that time, as sacredly bound, and in his letters to Mrs Bowes always addressed that lady by the name of mother.131

Without derogating from the praise justly due to those worthy men who were at this time employed in disseminating religious truth through England, I may say, that our countryman was not behind the first of them, in the unwearied assiduity with which he laboured in the stations assigned to him. From an early period his mind seems to have presaged, that the golden opportunity now enjoyed would not be of long duration. He was eager to “redeem the time,” and indefatigable both in his studies and in teaching. In addition to his ordinary services on sabbath, he preached regularly on week‑days, frequently on every day of the week.132 Besides the portion of time which he allotted to study, he was often employed in conversing with persons who applied to him for advice on religious subjects.133 The council were not insensible to the value of his services, and conferred on him several marks of their approbation. They wrote different letters to the governors and principal inhabitants of the places where he preached, recommending him to their notice and protection.134 They secured him in the regular payment of his salary until he should be provided with a benefice.135 And out of respect to him, they, in September 1552, granted a patent to his brother, William Knox, a merchant, giving him liberty, for a limited time, to trade to any port of England, in a vessel of a hundred tons burden.136

But the things which recommended Knox to the council, drew upon him the hatred of a numerous and powerful party in the northern counties, who remained addicted to popery. Irritated by his boldness and success in attacking their superstition, and sensible that it would be vain, and even dangerous, to prefer an accusation against him on that ground, they watched for an opportunity of catching at something in his discourses or behaviour, which they might improve to his disadvantage. He had long observed, with great anxiety, the impatience with which the papists submitted to the present government, and their eager desires for any change which might lead to the overthrow of the protestant religion,—desires which were expressed by them in the north, without that reserve which prudence dictated in places adjacent to the seat of authority. He had witnessed the joy with which they received the news of the protector’s fall, and was no stranger to the satisfaction with which they circulated prognostications as to the speedy demise of the king. In a sermon preached by him about Christmas 1552, he gave vent to his feelings on this subject; and, lamenting the obstinacy of the papists, asserted, that such as were enemies to the gospel then preached in England, were secret traitors to the crown and commonwealth, thirsted for nothing more than his majesty’s death, and cared not who should reign over them, provided they got their idolatry again erected. The freedom of this speech was immediately laid hold of by his enemies, and transmitted, with many aggravations, to some great men about court, secretly in their interest, who thereupon accused him of high misdemeanours before the privy council.137

In taking this step, they were not a little encouraged by their knowledge of the sentiments of the duke of Northumberland, who had lately come down to his charge as warden‑general of the northern marches.138 This ambitious and unprincipled nobleman had affected much zeal for the reformed religion, that he might the more easily attain the highest preferment in the state, which he had recently secured by the ruin of the duke of Somerset, the protector of the kingdom. Knox had offended him by publicly lamenting the fall of Somerset as dangerous to the reformation, of which this nobleman had always shown himself a zealous friend, however blameable his conduct might have been in other respects.139 Nor could the freedom which the preacher used in reproving from the pulpit the vices of great as well as small, fail to be displeasing to a man of Northumberland’s character. On these accounts, the duke was desirous to have Knox removed from that quarter, and had actually applied for this, by a letter to the council, previous to the occurrence just mentioned, alleging, as a pretext for this, that great numbers of Scotsmen resorted to him; as if any real danger was to be apprehended from this intercourse with a man, of whose fidelity the existing government had so many strong pledges, and who uniformly employed all his influence to remove the prejudices of his countrymen against England.140

In consequence of the charge exhibited against him to the council, he was summoned to repair immediately to London, and answer for his conduct. The following extract of a letter, written by him to Miss Bowes,141 will show the state of his mind on receiving this citation. “Urgent necessity will not suffer that I testify my mind unto you. My lord of Westmoreland142 has written unto me this Wednesday, at six of the clock at night, immediately thereafter to repair unto him, as I will answer at my peril. I could not obtain license to remain the time of the sermon upon the morrow. Blessed be God who does ratify and confirm the truth of his word from time to time, as our weakness shall require! Your adversary, sister, doth labour that you should doubt whether this be the word of God or not. If there had never been testimonial of the undoubted truth thereof before these our ages, may not such things as we see daily come to pass prove the verity thereof? Doth it not affirm, that it shall be preached, and yet contemned and lightly regarded by many; that the true professors thereof shall be hated by father, mother, and others of the contrary religion; that the most faithful shall be persecuted? And cometh not all these things to pass in ourselves? Rejoice, sister, for the same word that forspeaketh trouble doth certify us of the glory consequent. As for myself, albeit the extremity should now apprehend me, it is not come unlooked for. But, alas! I fear that yet I be not ripe nor able to glorify Christ by my death; but what lacketh now, God shall perform in his own time.—Be sure I will not forget you and your company, so long as mortal man may remember any earthly creature.”143

Upon reaching London, he found that his enemies had been uncommonly industrious in their endeavours to excite prejudices against him. But the council, after hearing his defence, were convinced of the malice of his accusers, and gave him an honourable acquittal. He was employed to preach before the court, and his sermons gave great satisfaction to his majesty, who contracted a favour for him, and was anxious to have him promoted in the church.144 The council resolved that he should preach in London and the southern counties during the following year; but they allowed him to return for a short time to Newcastle, either that he might settle his affairs in the north, or that a public testimony might be borne to his innocence in the place where it had been attacked. In a letter to his sister, dated Newcastle, 23d March, 1553, we find him writing as follows. “Look farther of this matter in the other letter,145 written unto you at such time as many thought I should never write after to man. Heinous were the delations laid against me, and many are the lies that are made to the council. But God one day shall destroy all lying tongues, and shall deliver his servants from calamity. I look but one day or other to fall in their hands; for more and more rageth the members of the devil against me. This assault of Satan has been to his confusion, and to the glory of God. And therefore, sister, cease not to praise God, and to call for my comfort; for great is the multitude of enemies, whom every one the Lord shall confound. I intend not to depart from Newcastle before Easter.”

His confinement in the French galleys, together with his labours in England, had considerably impaired the vigour of his constitution, and brought on the gravel. In the course of the year 1553, he endured several violent attacks of this acute disorder, accompanied with severe pain in his head and stomach. “My daily labours must now increase,” says he, in the letter last quoted, “and therefore spare me as much as you may. My old malady troubles me sore, and nothing is more contrarious to my health than writing. Think not that I weary to visit you; but unless my pain shall cease, I will altogether become unprofitable. Work, O Lord, even as pleaseth thy infinite goodness, and relax the troubles, at thy own pleasure, of such as seeketh thy glory to shine. Amen!”146 In another letter to the same correspondent, he writes: “The pain of my head and stomach troubles me greatly. Daily I find my body decay; but the providence of my God shall not be frustrate. I am charged to be at Widdrington upon Sunday, where I think I shall also remain Monday. The spirit of the Lord Jesus rest with you. Desire such faithful with whom ye communicate your mind, to pray that, at the pleasure of our good God, my dolour both of body and spirit may be relieved somewhat; for presently it is very bitter. Never found I the spirit, I praise my God, so abundant, where God’s glory ought to be declared; and therefore I am sure there abides something that yet we see not.”147 “Your messenger,” says he in another letter, “found me in bed, after a sore trouble and most dolorous night; and so dolour may complain to dolour when we two meet. But the infinite goodness of God, who never despiseth the petitions of a sore troubled heart, shall, at his good pleasure, put end to these pains that we presently suffer, and, in place thereof, shall crown us with glory and immortality for ever. But, dear sister, I am even of mind with faithful Job, yet most sore tormented, that my pain shall have no end in this life. The power of God may, against the purpose of my heart, alter such things as appear not to be altered, as he did unto Job; but dolour and pain, with sore anguish, cries the contrary. And this is more plain than ever I spake, to let you know ye have a fellow and companion in trouble. And thus rest in Christ; for the head of the serpent is already broken down, and he is stinging us upon the heel.”148

About the beginning of April 1553, he returned to London. In the month of February preceding, archbishop Cranmer had been directed by the council to present him to the vacant living of All‑Hallows, in the city.149 This proposal, which originated in the personal favour of the young king, was very disagreeable to Northumberland, who exerted himself privately to hinder the appointment. But the interference of this nobleman was unnecessary; for Knox declined the living when it was offered to him, and, being questioned as to his reasons, readily acknowledged that he had not freedom in his mind to accept of a fixed charge in the present state of the English church. His refusal, with the reasons which he had assigned for it, gave offence, and, on the 14th of April, he was called before the privy council. There were present the archbishop of Canterbury, Goodrick, bishop of Ely and lord chancellor, the earls of Bedford, Northampton, and Shrewsbury, the lords treasurer and chamberlain, and the two secretaries of state. They asked him, why he had refused the benefice provided for him in London. He answered, that he was fully satisfied that he could be more useful to the church in another situation. Being interrogated, if it was his opinion, that no person could lawfully serve in ecclesiastical ministrations according to the present laws of that realm, he frankly replied, that there were many things in the English church which needed reformation, and that unless they were reformed, ministers could not, in his opinion, discharge their office conscientiously in the sight of God: for no minister had authority, according to the existing laws, to prevent the unworthy from participating of the sacraments, which was “a chief point of his office.” Being asked, if kneeling at the Lord’s table was not a matter of indifference, he replied, that Christ’s action at the communion was most perfect, and in it no such posture was used; that it was most safe to follow his example; and that kneeling was an addition and invention of men. On this article, there was a smart dispute between him and some of the members of the council. After long reasoning, he was told that they had not sent for him with any bad design, but were sorry to understand that he was of a judgment contrary to the common order. He said he was sorry that the common order was contrary to Christ’s institution. The council dismissed him with soft words, advising him to use all means for removing the dislike which he had conceived to some of the forms of their church, and to reconcile his mind, if possible, to the idea of communicating according to the established rites.150

Scruples which had resisted the force of authority and argument, have often been found to yield to the more powerful influence of lucrative and honourable situations. But whether, with some, we shall consider Knox’s conduct on this occasion as indicating the poverty of his spirit,151 or shall regard it as a proof of true independence of mind, the prospect of elevation to the episcopal bench could not overcome the repugnance which he felt to a closer connexion with the church of England. Edward VI., with the concurrence of his privy council, offered him a bishopric. But he rejected it; and in the reasons which he gave for his refusal, declared the episcopal office to be destitute of divine authority in itself, and its exercise in the English church to be inconsistent with the ecclesiastical canons. This is attested by Beza, a contemporary author.152 Knox himself, in one of his treatises, speaks of the “high promotions” offered him by Edward;153 and we shall find him, at a later period of his life, expressly asserting that he had refused a bishopric. Tonstal having been sequestered upon a charge of misprision of treason, the council came to a resolution, about this time, to divide his extensive diocese into two bishoprics, the seat of one of which was to be at Durham, and of the other at Newcastle. Ridley, bishop of London, was to be translated to the former, and it is highly probable that Knox was intended for the latter. “He was offered a bishopric,” says Brand, “probably the new founded one at Newcastle, which he refused—revera noluit episcopari.”154

It may be proper, in this place, to give a more particular account of Knox’s sentiments respecting the English church. The reformation of religion, it is well known, was conducted on very different principles in England and in Scotland, both as to worship and ecclesiastical polity. In England, the papal supremacy was transferred to the prince, the hierarchy, being subjected to the civil power, was suffered to remain, and, the grosser superstitions having been removed, the principal forms of the ancient worship were retained; whereas, in Scotland, all of these were discarded, as destitute of divine authority, unprofitable, burdensome, or savouring of popery, and the worship and government of the church were reduced to the primitive standard of scriptural simplicity. The influence of Knox in recommending this establishment to his countrymen, is universally allowed; but, as he officiated for a considerable time in the church of England, and on this account was supposed to have been pleased with its constitution, it has been usually said, that he afterwards contracted a dislike to it during his exile on the continent, and having imbibed the sentiments of Calvin, brought them along with him to his native country, and organized the Scottish church after the Genevan model. This statement is inaccurate. His objections to the English liturgy were increased and strengthened during his residence on the continent, but they existed before that time. His judgment respecting ecclesiastical government and discipline was matured during that period, but his radical sentiments on these heads were formed long before he saw Calvin, or had any intercourse with the foreign reformers. At Geneva he saw a church, which, upon the whole, corresponded with his idea of the divinely authorized pattern; but he did not indiscriminately approve, nor servilely imitate, either that or any other existing establishment.155

As early as the year 1547, he taught, in his first sermons at St Andrews, that no mortal man could be head of the church; that there were no true bishops, but such as preached personally without a substitute; that in religion men were bound to regulate themselves by divine laws; and that the sacraments ought to be administered exactly according to the institution and example of Christ. We have seen that, in a solemn disputation in the same place, he maintained that the church has no authority, on pretext of decorating divine service, to devise religious ceremonies, and impose upon them arbitrary significations.156 This position he also defended in the year 1550, at Newcastle, and on his subsequent appearance before the privy council at London. It was impossible that the English church, in any of the shapes which it assumed, could stand the test of these principles. The ecclesiastical supremacy, the various orders and dependencies of the hierarchy, crossing in baptism, and kneeling in the eucharist, with other ceremonies—the theatrical dress, the mimical gestures, the vain repetitions used in religious service, were all condemned and repudiated by the cardinal principle to which he steadily adhered, that, in the church of Christ, and especially in the acts of worship, every thing ought to be arranged and conducted, not by the pleasure and appointment of men, but according to the dictates of inspired wisdom and authority.

He rejoiced that liberty and encouragement were given to preach the pure word of God throughout the extensive realm of England; that idolatry and gross superstition were suppressed; and that the rulers were disposed to support the Reformation, and even to carry it farther than had yet been done. Considering the character of the greater part of the clergy, the extreme paucity of useful preachers, and other hinderances to the introduction of the primitive order and discipline of the church, he acquiesced in the authority exercised by a part of the bishops, under the direction of the privy council, and endeavoured to strengthen their hands, in the advancement of the common cause, by painful preaching in the stations which were assigned to him. But he could not be induced to contradict or to conceal his fixed sentiments, and he cautiously avoided coming under engagements, by which he must have assented to what, in his decided judgment, was either in its own nature unlawful, or injurious in its tendency to the interests of religion. Upon these principles, he never submitted to the unlimited use of the liturgy, during the time that he was in England,157 and refused to become a bishop, or to accept a parochial charge. When he perceived that the progress of the Reformation was arrested, by the influence of a popish faction, and the dictates of a temporizing policy; that abuses, which had formerly been acknowledged, began to be openly vindicated and stiffly maintained; above all, when he saw, after the accession of Elizabeth, that a retrograde course was taken, and a yoke of ceremonies, more grievous than that which the most sincere protestants had formerly complained of, was imposed and enforced by arbitrary statutes, he judged it necessary to speak in a tone of more decided and severe reprehension.

Among other things which he censured in the English ecclesiastical establishment, were the continuing to employ a great number of ignorant and insufficient priests, who had been accustomed to nothing but saying mass and singing the litany; the general substitution of the reading of homilies, the mumbling of prayers, or the chanting of matins and even‑song, in the place of preaching; the formal celebration of the sacraments, unaccompanied with instruction to the people; the scandalous prevalence of pluralities; and the total want of ecclesiastical discipline. He was of opinion, that the clergy ought not to be entangled, and diverted from the duties of their office, by holding civil places; that the bishops should lay aside their secular titles and dignities; that the bishoprics should be divided, so that in every city or large town there might be placed a godly and learned man, with others joined with him, for the management of ecclesiastical matters; and that schools for the education of youth should be universally erected through the nation.158

Nor did the principal persons who were active in effecting the English reformation differ widely from Knox in these sentiments, although they might not have the same conviction of their importance, and of the expediency of reducing them to practice. We should mistake exceedingly, if we supposed that they were men of the same principles and temper with many who succeeded to their places, or that they were satisfied with the pitch to which they had carried the reformation of the English church, and regarded it as a paragon and perfect pattern to other churches. They were strangers to those extravagant and illiberal notions which were afterwards adopted by the fond admirers of the hierarchy and liturgy. They would have laughed at the man who seriously asserted, that the ecclesiastical ceremonies constituted any part of “the beauty of holiness,” or that the imposition of the hands of a bishop was essential to the validity of ordination; and they would not have owned that person as a protestant who would have ventured to insinuate, that where these were wanting, there was no Christian ministry, no ordinances, no church, and perhaps—no salvation. Many things which their successors have applauded, they barely tolerated; and they would have been happy if the circumstances of their time would have permitted them to introduce alterations, which have since been cried down as puritanical innovations. Strange as it may appear to some, I am not afraid of exceeding the truth when I say, that if the English reformers, including the protestant bishops, had been left to their own choice,—if they had not been held back and retarded by a large mass of popishly affected clergy in the reign of Edward, and restrained by the supreme civil authority on the accession of Elizabeth, they would have brought the government and worship of the church of England nearly to the pattern of other reformed churches. If the reader doubts this, he may consult the evidence produced in the notes.159

Such, in particular, was the earnest wish of his majesty Edward VI., a prince who, besides his other rare qualities, had an unfeigned reverence for the word of God, and a disposition to comply with its precepts in preference to custom and established usages; and who showed himself uniformly inclined to give relief to his conscientious subjects, and sincerely bent on promoting the union of all the friends of the reformed religion at home and abroad. Of his intention on this head, there remain the most unquestionable and satisfactory documents.160 Had his life been spared, there is every reason to think that he would have accomplished the correction or removal of those evils in the English church, which the most steady and enlightened protestants have lamented. Had his sister Elizabeth been of the same spirit with him, and prosecuted the plan which he laid down, the consequences would have been most happy both for herself and for her people, for the government and for the church. She would have united all the friends of the Reformation, who were the great support of her authority. She would have weakened the interest of the Roman catholics, whom all her accommodating measures could not gain, nor prevent from repeatedly conspiring against her life and crown. She would have put an end to those dissensions among her protestant subjects, which continued during the whole of her reign, which she bequeathed as a legacy to her successors, and which, being fomented and exasperated by the severities employed for their suppression, burst forth at length, to the temporary overthrow of the monarchy, as well as of the hierarchy, whose exorbitancies it had patronised and whose corruptions it had sanctioned and maintained;—dissensions, which subsist to this day; which, though softened by the partial lenitive of a toleration, have gradually alienated from the communion of that church a large proportion of the people, and which, if a timely and suitable remedy be not applied, may ultimately undermine the foundations of the English establishment.

During the time that Knox was in London, he had full opportunity for observing the state of the court; and the observations which he made filled his mind with the most anxious forebodings. Of the piety and sincerity of the young king he entertained not the smallest doubt. Personal acquaintance heightened the idea which he had conceived of his character from report, and enabled him to add his testimony to the tribute of praise, which all who knew that prince had so cheerfully paid to his uncommon virtues and endowments.161 But the principal courtiers, by whom he was at that time surrounded, were persons of a very different description, and gave proofs, too unequivocal to be mistaken, of indifference to all religion, and of a readiness to acquiesce, and even to assist, in the re‑establishment of the ancient superstition, whenever a change of rulers should render this measure practicable and expedient. The health of Edward, which had long been declining, growing gradually worse, so that no hope of his recovery remained, they were eager only about the aggrandizing of their families, and providing for the security of their places and fortunes.

The royal chaplains were men of a very different character from those who have usually occupied that place in the courts of princes. They were no time‑serving, supple, smooth‑tongued parasites; they were not afraid of forfeiting their pensions, or of alarming the consciences, and wounding the delicate ears, of their royal and noble auditors, by denouncing the vices which they committed, and the judgments of Heaven to which they exposed themselves. The freedom used by the venerable Latimer is well known from his printed sermons, which, for their homely honesty, artless simplicity, native humour, and genuine pictures of the manners of the age, continue still to be read with interest. Grindal, Lever, and Bradford, who were superior to Latimer in learning, evinced the same fidelity and courage. They censured the ambition, avarice, luxury, oppression, and irreligion which reigned in the court. As long as their sovereign was able to give personal attendance on the sermons, the preachers were treated with exterior decency and respect; but after he was confined to his chamber by a consumptive cough, the resentment of the courtiers vented itself openly in the most contumelious speeches and insolent behaviour.162

From what the reader has already seen of Knox’s character, he may readily conceive that the sermons delivered by him at court, were not less free and bold than those of his colleagues. We may form a judgment of them from the account which he has given of the last sermon preached by him before his majesty; in which he directed several piercing glances of reproof at the haughty premier and his crafty relation, the marquis of Winchester, lord high treasurer, both of whom were among his hearers. His text was John, xiii. 18. “He that eateth bread with me, hath lifted up his heel against me.” It had been often seen, he said, that the most excellent and godly princes were surrounded with false and ungodly officers and counsellors. Having enquired into the reasons of this, and illustrated the fact from the scripture examples of Achitophel under King David, Shebna under Hezekiah, and Judas under Jesus Christ, he added: “What wonder is it, then, that a young and innocent king be deceived by crafty, covetous, wicked, and ungodly counsellors? I am greatly afraid that Achitophel be counsellor, that Judas bear the purse, and that Shebna be scribe, comptroller, and treasurer.”163

On the 6th of July, 1553, Edward VI. departed this life, to the unspeakable grief of all the lovers of learning, virtue, and the protestant religion; and a black cloud spread over England, which, after hovering a while, burst into a dreadful storm, that raged during five years with the most destructive fury. Knox was at this time in London.164 He received the afflicting tidings of his majesty’s decease with becoming fortitude and resignation to the sovereign will of Heaven. The event did not meet him unprepared: he had long anticipated it, with its probable consequences; the prospect had produced the keenest anguish in his breast, and drawn tears from his eyes; and he had frequently introduced the subject into his public discourses and confidential conversations with his friends. Writing to Mrs Bowes, some time after this, he says, “How oft have you and I talked of these present days, till neither of us both could refrain tears, when no such appearance then was seen of man! How oft have I said unto you, that I looked daily for trouble, and that I wondered at it, that so long I should escape it! What moved me to refuse (and that with displeasure of all men, even of those that best loved me) those high promotions that were offered by him whom God hath taken from us for our offences? Assuredly the foresight of trouble to come.165 How oft have I said unto you that the time would not be long that England would give me bread! Advise with the last letter that I wrote unto your brother‑in‑law, and consider what is therein contained.”166

He remained in London until the 19th of July, when Mary was proclaimed queen, only nine days after the same ceremony had been performed in that city for the amiable and unfortunate Lady Jane Grey. The thoughtless demonstrations of joy given by the inhabitants, at an event which threatened such danger to the religious faith which they still avowed, affected him so deeply, that he could not refrain, in his sermons, from publicly testifying his displeasure at their conduct, and from warning them of the calamities which they had reason to dread.167 Immediately after this, he appears to have withdrawn from London, and retired to the north of England, being justly apprehensive of the measures which might be pursued by the new government.168

To induce the protestants to submit peaceably to her authority, Mary amused them for some time with proclamations, in which she promised not to do violence to their consciences. Though aware of the bigotry of the queen, and the spirit of the religion to which she was devoted, the protestant ministers reckoned it their duty to improve this respite. In the month of August, Knox returned to the south, and resumed his labours. It seems to have been at this time that he composed the Confession and Prayer, commonly used by him in the congregations to which he preached, in which he prayed for queen Mary by name, and for the suppression of such as meditated rebellion.169 While he itinerated through Buckinghamshire, he was attended by large audiences, which his popularity and the alarming crisis drew together; especially at Amersham, a borough formerly noted for the general reception of the doctrines of Wickliffe, the precursor of the Reformation in England, and from which the seed sown by his followers had never been altogether eradicated.170 Wherever he went, he earnestly exhorted the people to repentance under the tokens of divine displeasure, and to a steady adherence to the faith which they had embraced. He continued to preach in Buckinghamshire and Kent during the harvest months, although the measures of government daily rendered his safety more precarious; and in the beginning of November, returned to London, where he resided chiefly with Mr Locke and Mr Hickman, two respectable merchants of his acquaintance.171

While the measures of the new government threatened danger to all the protestants in the kingdom, and our countryman was under daily apprehensions of imprisonment, he met with a severe trial of a private nature. I have already mentioned his engagements to Miss Bowes. At this time, it was judged proper by both parties to avow the connexion, and to proceed to solemnize their union. This step was opposed by the young lady’s father; and his opposition was accompanied with circumstances which gave much distress to Mrs Bowes and her daughter, as well as to Knox. His refusal seems to have proceeded from family pride; but there is reason to think it was also influenced by religious considerations; as, from different hints dropped in the correspondence about this affair, he appears to have been, if not inclined to popery in his judgment, at least resolved to comply with the religion now favoured by the court. On this subject I find Knox writing from London to Mrs Bowes, in a letter, dated 20th September, 1553. “My great labours, wherein I desire your daily prayers, will not suffer me to satisfy my mind touching all the process between your husband and you touching my matter with his daughter. I praise God heartily both for your boldness and constancy. But, I beseech you, mother, trouble not yourself too much therewith. It becomes me now to jeopard my life for the comfort and deliverance of my own flesh,172 as that I will do by God’s grace, both fear and friendship of all earthly creature laid aside. I have written to your husband, the contents whereof I trust our brother Harry will declare to you and my wife. If I escape sickness and imprisonment, [you may] be sure to see me soon.”173

His wife and mother‑in‑law were anxious that he should settle in Berwick, or its neighbourhood, where he might perhaps be allowed to reside peaceably, although in a more private way than formerly. To this proposal he does not seem to have been averse, provided he could have seen any prospect of his being able to support himself. Since the accession of queen Mary, the payment of the salary allotted him by government had been stopped. Indeed, he had not received any part of it for the last twelve months.174 His father‑in‑law was abundantly able to give him a sufficient establishment; but Knox’s spirit could not brook the thought of being dependent on one who had treated him with coldness and disdain. Induced by the importunity of Mrs Bowes, he applied to her brother‑in‑law, Sir Robert Bowes, and attempted, by a candid explanation of all circumstances, to remove any umbrage which had been conceived against him by the family, and to procure an amicable settlement of the whole affair. The unfavourable issue of this interview was communicated by him in a letter to Mrs Bowes, of which the following is an extract:

“Dear mother, so may and will I call you, not only for the tender affection I bear unto you in Christ, but also for the motherly kindness ye have shewn unto me at all times since our first acquaintance; albeit such things as I have desired, (if it had pleased God,) and ye and others have long desired, are never like to come to pass, yet shall ye be sure that my love and care toward you shall never abate, so long as I can care for any earthly creature. Ye shall understand that this 6th of November, I spake with Sir Robert Bowes on the matter ye know, according to your request, whose disdainful, yea, despiteful words have so pierced my heart, that my life is bitter unto me. I bear a good countenance with a sore troubled heart; while he that ought to consider matters with a deep judgment is become not only a despiser, but also a taunter of God’s messengers. God be merciful unto him. Among other his most unpleasing words, while that I was about to have declared my part in the whole matter, he said, ‘Away with your rhetorical reasons, for I will not be persuaded with them.’ God knows I did use no rhetoric or coloured speech, but would have spoken the truth, and that in most simple manner. I am not a good orator in my own cause. But what he would not be content to hear of me, God shall declare to him one day to his displeasure, unless he repent. It is supposed that all the matter comes by you and me. I pray God that your conscience were quiet and at peace, and I regard not what country consume this my wicked carcase. And were it not that no man’s unthankfulness shall move me (God supporting my infirmity) to cease to do profit unto Christ’s congregation, those days should be few that England would give me bread. And I fear that, when all is done, I shall be driven to that end; for I cannot abide the disdainful hatred of those, of whom not only I thought I might have craved kindness, but also to whom God hath been by me more liberal than they be thankful. But so must men declare themselves. Affection does trouble me at this present; yet I doubt not to overcome by him, who will not leave comfortless his afflicted to the end, whose omnipotent spirit rest with you. Amen.”175

He refers to the same disagreeable affair in another letter written about the end of this year. After mentioning the bad state of his health, which had been greatly increased by distress of mind, he adds, “It will be after the 12th day before I can be at Berwick; and almost I am determined not to come at all. Ye know the cause. God be more merciful unto some, than they are equitable unto me in judgment. The testimony of my conscience absolves me, before his face who looks not upon the presence of man.”176 These extracts show us the heart of the writer; they discover the sensibility of his temper, the keenness of his feelings, and his pride and independence of spirit struggling with a sense of duty, and affection to his relations.

About the end of November, or the beginning of December, he retired from the south to Newcastle. The parliament had by this time repealed all the laws made in favour of the Reformation, and restored the Roman catholic religion; but such as pleased, were permitted to observe the protestant worship until the 20th of December. After that period they were thrown out of the protection of the law, and exposed to the pains decreed against heretics. Many of the bishops and ministers were already committed to prison; others had escaped beyond sea. Knox could not, however, prevail on himself either to flee the kingdom, or to desist from preaching. Three days after the period limited by the statute had elapsed, he says in one of his letters, “I may not answer your places of scripture, nor yet write the exposition of the sixth psalm, for every day of this week must I preach, if this wicked carcase will permit.”177

His enemies, who had been defeated in their attempts to ruin him under the former government, had now access to rulers sufficiently disposed to listen to their information. They were not dilatory in improving the opportunity. In the end of December 1553, or beginning of January 1554, his servant was seized, as he carried letters from him to his wife and mother‑in‑law, and the letters were taken from him, in the hopes of finding in them some matter of accusation against the writer. As they contained merely religious advices, and exhortations to constancy in the protestant faith, which he was prepared to avow before any court to which he might be called, he was not alarmed at their interception. But, being aware of the uneasiness which the report would give to his friends at Berwick, he set out immediately with the design of visiting them. Notwithstanding the secrecy with which he conducted this journey, the rumour of it quickly spread; and some of his wife’s relations who had joined him, perceiving that he was in imminent danger, prevailed on him, greatly against his own inclination, to relinquish the design of proceeding to Berwick, and retire to a place of safety on the coast, from which he might escape by sea, provided the search for him was continued. From this retreat he wrote to his wife and her mother, acquainting them with the reasons of his absconding, and the small prospect which he had of being able at that time to see them. “His brethren,” he said, “had, partly by admonition, partly by tears, compelled him to obey,” somewhat contrary to his own mind; for “never could he die in a more honest quarrel,” than by suffering as a witness for that truth of which God had made him a messenger. Notwithstanding this state of his mind, he promised, if providence prepared the way, to “obey the voices of his brethren, and give place to the fury and rage of Satan for a time.”178

Having ascertained that his friends were not mistaken in the apprehensions which they felt for his safety, and that he could not hope to elude the pursuit of his enemies, if he remained in England, he procured a vessel, which landed him safely at Dieppe, a port of Normandy in France, on the 20th of January, 1554.179

PERIOD IV.

FROM THE YEAR 1554, WHEN HE LEFT ENGLAND, TO THE YEAR 1556, WHEN HE RETURNED TO GENEVA, AFTER VISITING SCOTLAND.

Providence, having more important services in reserve for Knox, made use of the urgent importunities of his friends to hurry him away from those dangers, to which, had he been left to the determination of his own mind, his zeal and fearlessness would have prompted him to expose himself. No sooner did he reach a foreign shore, than he began to regret the course which he had been induced to take. When he thought upon his fellow‑preachers, whom he had left behind him immured in dungeons, and the people lately under his charge, now scattered abroad as sheep without a shepherd, he felt an indescribable pang, and an almost irresistible desire to return and share in the hazardous but honourable conflict. Although he had only complied with the divine direction, “when they persecute you in one city, flee ye unto another,” and although in his own breast he stood acquitted of cowardice, yet he found it difficult to divest his conduct of the appearance of that weakness, and was afraid that it might operate as a discouragement to his brethren in England, and induce them to make sinful compliances with a view of saving their lives.

On this subject we find him unbosoming himself to Mrs Bowes in his letters from Dieppe. “The desire that I have to hear of your continuance with Christ Jesus, in the day of this his battle, (which shortly shall end to the confusion of his proud enemies,) neither by tongue nor by pen can I express, beloved mother. Assuredly, it is such, that it vanquisheth and overcometh all remembrance and solicitude which the flesh useth to take for feeding and defence of herself. For, in every realm and nation, God will stir up some one or other to minister those things that appertain to this wretched life, and, if men will cease to do their office, yet will he send his ravens; so that in every place, perchance, I may find some fathers to my body. But, alas! where I shall find children to be begotten unto God by the word of life, that can I not presently consider; and therefore the spiritual life of such as some time boldly professed Christ, (God knoweth,) is to my heart more dear than all the glory, riches, and honour in earth; and the falling back of such men, as I hear daily to turn back to that idol again, is to me more dolorous than, I trust, the corporal death shall be, whenever it shall come at God’s appointment. Some will ask, Then why did I flee? Assuredly I cannot tell; but of one thing I am sure, the fear of death was not the chief cause of my fleeing. I trust that one cause hath been to let me see with my corporal eyes, that all had not a true heart to Christ Jesus, that, in the day of rest and peace, bare a fair face. But my fleeing is no matter; by God’s grace I may come to battle before that all the conflict be ended. And haste the time, O Lord, at thy good pleasure, that once again my tongue may yet praise thy holy name before the congregation, if it were but in the very hour of death!”—“I would not bow my knee before that most abominable idol for all the torments that earthly tyrants can devise, God so assisting me, as his Holy Spirit presently moveth me to write unfeignedly. And albeit that I have, in the beginning of this battle, appeared to play the faint‑hearted and feeble soldier, (the cause I remit to God,) yet my prayer is, that I may be restored to the battle again. And blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I am not left so bare without comfort, but my hope is to obtain such mercy, that, if a short end be not made of all my miseries by final death, (which to me were no small advantage,) that yet, by him who never despised the sobs of the sore afflicted, I shall be so encouraged to fight, that England and Scotland shall both know, that I am ready to suffer more than either poverty or exile, for the profession of that doctrine, and that heavenly religion, whereof it has pleased his merciful providence to make me, among others, a simple soldier and witness‑bearer unto men. And therefore, mother, let no fear enter into your heart, as that I, escaping the furious rage of these ravening wolves that for our unthankfulness are lately loosed from their bands, do repent any thing of my former fervency. No, mother; for a few sermons by me to be made within England, my heart at this hour could be content to suffer more than nature were able to sustain; as, by the grace of the most mighty and most merciful God, who only is God of comfort and consolation through Christ Jesus, one day shall be known.”180

In his present sequestered situation, Knox had full leisure to meditate upon the surprising vicissitudes in his lot during the last seven years—his singular call to the ministry and employment at St Andrews—his subsequent imprisonment and release—the sphere of usefulness in which he had been placed in England, with the afflicting manner in which he was excluded from it, and driven to seek refuge as an exile in that country to which he had formerly been carried as a prisoner. This last event seemed in a special manner to summon him to a solemn review of the manner in which he had discharged the sacred trust committed to him, as “a steward of the mysteries of God.” It will throw light on his character, and may not be without use to such as occupy a public station in the church, to exhibit the result of his reflections on this subject.

He could not deny, without ingratitude to him who had called him to be his servant, that his qualifications for the ministry had been in no small degree improved since he came to England; and he had the testimony of his own conscience, in addition to that of his numerous auditors, that he had not altogether neglected the gifts bestowed on him, but had exercised them with some measure of fidelity and painfulness. At the same time, he found reason for self‑accusation on different grounds. Having mentioned, in one of his letters, the reiterated charge of Christ to Peter, “Feed my sheep, feed my lambs,” he exclaims, “O, alas! how small is the number of pastors that obeys this commandment. But this matter will I not deplore, except that I, not speaking of others, will accuse myself that do not, I confess, the uttermost of my power in feeding the lambs and sheep of Christ. I satisfy, peradventure, many men in the small labours I take, but I satisfy not myself. I have done somewhat, but not according to my duty.”181 In the discharge of private duties, he acknowledges, that shame, and the fear of incurring the scandal of the world, had sometimes hindered him from visiting the female part of his charge, and administering to them the instruction and comfort which they craved. In public ministrations, he had been deficient in fervency and fidelity, in impartiality, and in diligence. He could not charge himself with flattery, and his “rude plainness” had given offence to some; but his conscience now accused him of not having been sufficiently plain in admonishing offenders. His custom had been to describe the vices of which his hearers were guilty in such colours that they might read their own image; but, being “unwilling to provoke all men” against him, he had restrained himself from particular application. Though his “eye had not been much set on worldly promotion,” he had sometimes been allured, by affection for friends and familiar acquaintances, to reside too long in some places, to the neglect of others which had an equal or perhaps stronger claim on his labours. Formerly he thought he had not sinned, if he had not been idle; now he was convinced that it was his duty to have considered how long he should remain in one place, and how many hungry souls were starving elsewhere. Sometimes, at the solicitation of friends, he had spared himself, and devoted to worldly business, or to bodily recreation and exercise, the time which ought to have been employed in the discharge of his official duties. “Besides these,” says he, “I was assaulted, yea infected, with more gross sins, that is, my wicked nature desired the favours, the estimation, and praise of men; against which, albeit that sometimes the Spirit of God did move me to fight, and earnestly did stir me (God knoweth I lie not) to sob and lament for these imperfections, yet never ceased they to trouble me when any occasion was offered; and so privily and craftily did they enter into my breast, that I could not perceive myself to be wounded till vainglory had almost got the upper hand. O Lord! be merciful to my great offence; and deal not with me according to my great iniquity, but according to the multitude of thy mercies.”182

Such was the strict scrutiny which Knox made into his ministerial conduct. To many the offences of which he accused himself will appear slight and venial, while others will perceive in them nothing worthy of blame; but they struck his mind in a very different light, in the hour of adversity and solitary meditation. If he, whose labours were so abundant as to appear to us excessive, had such reason for self‑condemnation, how few are there in the same station who may not say, “I do remember my faults this day!”

He did not, however, abandon himself to melancholy and unavailing complaints. One of his first cares, after arriving at Dieppe, was to employ his pen in writing suitable advices to those whom he could no longer instruct by preaching and conversation. With this view, he transmitted to England two short treatises. The one was an exposition of the sixth Psalm, which, at the request of Mrs Bowes, he had begun to write in England, but had not found leisure to finish. It is an excellent practical discourse upon that portion of scripture, and will be read with peculiar satisfaction by those who have been trained to religion in the school of adversity. The other treatise was a large letter, addressed to those in London and other parts of England, among whom he had been employed as a preacher. The drift of it was to warn them against abandoning the religion which they had embraced, or giving countenance to the idolatrous worship now erected among them. The reader of this letter cannot fail to be struck with its animated strain, when he reflects that it proceeded from a forlorn exile, in a strange country, without a single acquaintance, and ignorant where he would find a place of abode, or the means of subsistence. As a specimen of elevated piety and the most fervid eloquence, I cannot refrain from quoting the conclusion of the letter; in which he addresses their consciences, their hopes, their fears, and adjures them, by all that is sacred, and all that is dear to them, as men, as parents, and as Christians, not to start back from their good profession, and plunge themselves and their posterity into the gulf of ignorance and idolatry.

“Allace! sall we, efter so many graces that God has offerit in our dayis, for pleasure, or for vane threatnying of thame whome our hart knaweth and our mouthes have confessit to be odious idolateris, altogidder without resistance turne back to our vomit and damnabill ydolatrie, to the perdition of us and our posteritie? O horribill to be hard! Sall Godis halie preceptis wirk no greater obedience in us? Sall nature no otherwayis molifie our hartis? Sall not fatherlie pitie overcum this cruelnes? I speik to you, O natural fatheris! Behold your children with the eie of mercie, and considder the end of thair creatioun. Crueltie it were to saif your selves, and damn thame. But, O! more than crueltie, and madnes that can not be expressit, gif,183 for the pleasure of a moment, ye depryve yourselves and your posteritie of that eternall joy that is ordanit for thame that continewis in confessioun of Christis name to the end. Gif natural lufe, fatherly affectioun, reverence of God, feir of torment, or yit hoip of lyfe, move you, then will ye ganestand that abominabill ydol; whilk, gif ye do not, then, allace! the sone184 is gone doun, and the lyht is quyte lost, the trompet is ceissit, and ydolatrie is placeit in quietnes and rest. But gif God sall strenthin you, (as unfainedlie I pray that his majestie may,) then is their but ane dark clude overspred the sone for ane moment, whilk schortlie shall vanische, sa that the beames efter salbe seven fald mair bryht and amiable nor they were befoir. Your patience and constancie salbe a louder trompit to your posteritie than were the voces of the prophetis that instructit you; and so is not the trompit ceissit sa lang as any baldlie resistith ydolatrie. And, thairfoir, for the tender mercies of God, arme yourselves to stand with Christ in this his schorte battell.

“Let it be knawn to your posteritie that ye wer Christianis, and no ydolateris; that ye learnit Chryst in tyme of rest, and baldlie professit him in tyme of trubill. The preceptis, think ye, are scharpe and hard to be observit; and yet agane I affirme, that comparit with the plagis that sall assuredlie fall upon obstinat ydolateris, thay salbe fund easie and lycht. For avoyding of ydolatrie ye may perchance be compellit to leave your native contrie and realme, but obeyris of ydolatrie without end salbe compellit to burne in hell; for avoyding ydolatrie your substance salbe spoillit, but for obeying ydolatrie heavenly ryches salbe lost; for avoyding ydolatrie ye may fall into the handis of earthlie tirantis, but obeyeris, manteaneris, and consentaris to ydolatrie sall not eschaip the handis of the liveing God; for avoyding of ydolatrie your children salbe depryvit of father, friendis, ryches, and of rest, but by obeying ydolatrie they sall be left without God, without the knawledge of his word, and without hoip of his kingdome. Considder, deir brethrene, that how mekill mair185 dolorous and feirfull it is to be tormentit in hell than to suffer trubill in erth, to be depryvit of heavenlie joy than to be rubbit of transitorie ryches, to fall in the hands of the liveing God than to obey manis vane and uncertane displeasure, to leif oure children destitute of God than to leif thame unprovydit befoir the world,—sa mekill mair feirful it is to obey ydolatrie, or by dissembling to consent to the same, than by avoyding and flying from the abominatioun, to suffer what inconvenient may follow thairupon.

“Ye feir corporall deth. Gif nature admitit any man to live ever, then had your feir sum aperance of reasone. But gif corporall deth be commoun to all, why will ye jeoparde to lois eternall lyfe, to eschaip that which neither ryche nor pure, nether wyse nor ignorant, proud of stomoke nor febill of corage, and finally, no earthlie creature, by no craft nor ingyne186 of man, did ever avoid. Gif any eschapit the uglie face and horibill feir of deth, it was thay that baldlie confessit Chryst befoir men.—Why aucht the way of lyfe to be so feirfull by reasone of any pane, considering that a great noumber of oure brethrene hes past befoir ws, by lyke dangeris as we feir. A stout and prudent marinell, in tyme of tempest, seeing but one or two schippis, or like weschells to his, pass throughout any danger, and to win a sure harberie, will have gud esperance,187 by the lyke wind, to do the same. Allace! sall ye be mair feirfull to win lyfe eternall, than the natural man is to save the corporall lyfe? Hes not the maist part of the sanctis of God from the begynning enterit into thair rest, by torment and trubillis? And yit what complayntis find we in their mouthis, except it be the lamenting of thair persecuteris? Did God comfort thame? and sall his Majestie despyse us, gif, in fichting aganis iniquitie, we will follow thair futstepis? Hie will not.”188

On the last day of February, 1554,189 he set out from Dieppe, like the Hebrew patriarch of old, “not knowing whither he went;”190 and “committing his way to God,” travelled through France to Switzerland. A correspondence had been kept up between some of the English reformers and the most noted divines of the Helvetic church. The latter had already heard, with the sincerest grief, of the overthrow of the Reformation, and the dispersion of its friends, in England. On making himself known, Knox was cordially received by them, and treated with the most affectionate hospitality. He spent some time in Switzerland, visiting the particular churches, and conferring with the learned men of that country; and embraced the opportunity of submitting to them certain difficult questions, which were suggested by the present conjuncture of affairs in England, and about which his mind had been greatly occupied. Their views with respect to these coinciding with his own, he was confirmed in the judgment which he had already formed for himself.191

In the beginning of May he returned to Dieppe, to receive information from England; a journey which he repeated at intervals as long as he remained on the continent. The kind reception which he had met with, and the agreeable company which he enjoyed, during his short residence in Switzerland, had helped to dissipate the cloud which hung upon his spirits when he landed in France, and to open his mind to more pleasing prospects as to the issue of the present afflicting events. This appears from a letter written by him at this time, and addressed “To his afflicted brethren.” After discoursing of the situation of the disciples of Christ during the time that he lay in the grave, and of the sudden transition which they experienced, upon the reappearance of their master, from the depth of sorrow to the summit of joy, he adds: “The remembrance thereof is unto my heart great matter of consolation. For yet my good hope is, that one day or other, Christ Jesus, that now is crucified in England, shall rise again, in despite of his enemies, and shall appear to his weak and sore troubled disciples (for yet some he hath in that wretched and miserable realm); to whom he shall say, ‘Peace be unto you; it is I, be not afraid.’”192

His spirit was also refreshed at this time, by the information that he received of the constancy with which his mother‑in‑law adhered to the protestant faith. Her husband, it appears, took it for granted that she and the rest of the family had consciences equally accommodating with his own. It was not until she had evinced, in the most determined manner, her resolution to forsake friends and native country, rather than sacrifice her religion, that she was released from his importunities to comply with the Roman catholic religion.193 Before he went to Switzerland, Knox had signified his intention, if his life was spared, of visiting his friends at Berwick.194 When he returned to Dieppe, he had not relinquished the thoughts of this enterprise.195 It is likely that his friends had, in their letters, dissuaded him from it; and, after cool consideration, he resolved to postpone an attempt, by which he must have risked his life, without the prospect of doing any good.196

Wherefore, setting out again from Dieppe, he repaired to Geneva. The celebrated Calvin was then in the zenith of his reputation and usefulness in that city, and having completed its ecclesiastical establishment, and surmounted the opposition raised by those who envied his authority, or disliked his system of doctrine and discipline, was securely seated in the affections of the citizens. His writings were already translated into most of the languages of Europe; and Geneva was thronged with strangers from England, France, Germany, Poland, Hungary, and even from Spain and Italy, who came to consult him about the advancement of the Reformation, or to find shelter from the persecutions to which they were exposed, in their native countries. The name of Calvin was respected by none more than the protestants of England; and, at the desire of archbishop Cranmer, he had imparted to the protector Somerset, and to Edward VI., his advice as to the best method of advancing the Reformation in that kingdom.197 Knox was affectionately received by him as a refugee from England, and an intimate friendship was soon formed between them, which subsisted until the death of Calvin in 1564. They were nearly of the same age; and there was a striking similarity in their sentiments, and in the more prominent features of their character. The Genevan reformer was highly pleased with the piety and talents of Knox, who, in his turn, entertained a greater esteem and deference for Calvin than for any other of the reformers. As Geneva was an eligible situation for prosecuting study, and as he approved much of the religious order established in that city, he resolved to make it the ordinary place of his residence during the continuance of his exile.

But no prospect of personal safety or accommodation could banish from his mind the thoughts of his persecuted countrymen. In the month of July he undertook another journey to Dieppe, to inform himself accurately of their situation, and to learn if he could do any thing for their comfort.198 The tidings he received on this occasion tore open those wounds which had begun to close. In Scotland, every thing was dark and discouraging. The severities used against the protestants of England daily increased; and, what was still more afflicting to him, many of those who had embraced the truth under his ministry had been induced to return to the communion of the popish church. In the agony of his spirit, he wrote to them, setting before them the destruction to which they exposed their immortal souls by such cowardly desertion, and earnestly calling them to repentance.199 Under his present impressions, he repeated his former admonitions to his mother‑in‑law, and to his wife; over whose religious constancy he was tenderly jealous. “By pen will I write (because the bodies are put asunder to meet again at God’s pleasure) that which, by mouth, and face to face, ye have heard, that if man or angel labour to bring you back from the confession that once you have given, let them in that behalf be accursed. If any trouble you above measure, whether they be magistrates or carnal friends, they shall bear their just condemnation, unless they speedily repent. But now, mother, comfort you my heart (God grant ye may) in this my great affliction and dolorous pilgrimage; continue stoutly to the end, and bow you never before that idol, and so will the rest of worldly troubles be unto me more tolerable. With my own heart I often commune, yea, and, as it were comforting myself, I appear to triumph, that God shall never suffer you to fall in that rebuke. Sure I am that both ye would fear and eschame to commit that abomination in my presence, who am but a wretched man, subject to sin and misery like to yourself. But, O mother! though no earthly creature should be offended with you, yet fear ye the presence and offence of him, who, present in all places, searcheth the very heart and reins, whose indignation, once kindled against the inobedient, (and no sin more inflameth his wrath than idolatry doth,) no creature in heaven nor in earth is able to appease.”200

He was in this state of mind when he composed the Admonition to England, which was published about the end of this year. Those who have censured him, as indulging in an excessive vehemence of spirit and bitterness of language, usually refer to this tract in support of their charge.201 It is true, that he there paints the persecuting papists in the blackest colours, and holds them up as objects of human execration and divine vengeance. I do not now stop to enquire, whether he was chargeable with transgressing the bounds of moderation prescribed by reason and religion, in the expression of his indignation and zeal; or whether the censures pronounced by his accusers, and the principles upon which they proceed, do not involve a condemnation of the temper and language of the most righteous men mentioned in scripture, and even of our Saviour himself. But, I may ask, is there no apology for his severity to be found in the character of the persons against whom he wrote, and in the state of his own feelings, lacerated, not by personal sufferings, but by sympathy with his suffering brethren, who were driven into prisons by their unnatural countrymen, “as sheep for the slaughter,” to be brought forth and barbarously immolated to appease the Roman Moloch? Who could suppress indignation in speaking of the conduct of men, who, having raised themselves to honour and affluence by the warmest professions of friendship to the reformed religion under the preceding reign, now abetted the most violent measures against their former brethren and benefactors? What terms were too strong for stigmatizing the execrable system of persecution coolly projected by the dissembling, vindictive Gardiner, the brutal barbarity of the bloody Bonner, or the unrelenting, insatiable cruelty of Mary, who, having extinguished the feelings of humanity, and divested herself of the tenderness which characterises her sex, continued to urge to fresh severities the willing instruments of her cruelty, after they were sated with blood, and to issue orders for the murder of her subjects, until her own husband, bigoted and unfeeling as he was, turned with disgust from the spectacle?

Oppression makes a wise man mad; but (to use the words of a modern orator, with a more just application) “the distemper is still the madness of the wise, which is better than the sobriety of fools. Their cry is the voice of sacred misery, exalted, not into wild raving, but into the sanctified frenzy of prophecy and inspiration.”

Knox returned to Geneva, and applied himself to study with all the ardour of youth, although his age now bordered upon fifty. It seems to have been at this time that he made himself master of the Hebrew language, which he had no opportunity of acquiring in early life.202 It is natural to enquire, by what funds he was supported during his exile. However much inclined his mother‑in‑law was to relieve his necessities, the disposition of her husband appears to have put it greatly out of her power. Any small sums which his friends had advanced to him, before his sudden departure from England, were exhausted; and he was at this time very much straitened for money. Being unwilling to burden strangers, he looked for assistance to the voluntary contributions of those among whom he had laboured. In a letter to Mrs Bowes, he says, “My own estate I cannot well declare; but God shall guide the footsteps of him that is wilsome, and will feed him in trouble that never greatly solicited for the world. If any collection might be made among the faithful, it were no shame for me to receive that which Paul refused not in the time of his trouble. But all I remit to his providence that ever careth for his own.”203 I find that remittances were made to him by particular friends, both in England and Scotland, during his residence on the continent.204

Meanwhile, the persecution growing hot in England, great numbers of protestants had made their escape from that kingdom. Before the close of the year 1554, there were on the continent several hundred Englishmen of good education, besides others of different ranks, who had preferred religion to country, and voluntarily encountered all the hardships of exile, that they might hold fast the profession of the protestant faith. The foreign reformed churches exhibited, on this occasion, an amiable proof of the spirit of their religion, and amply recompensed the kindness which England had shown to strangers during the reign of Edward. They emulated one another in exertions to accommodate the unfortunate refugees who were dispersed among them, and endeavoured, with the most affectionate solicitude, to supply their wants and alleviate their sufferings.205 The principal places in which the English exiles obtained settlements, were Zurich, Basle, Geneva, Arrow, Embden, Wesel, Strasburg, Duysburg, and Frankfort.

Frankfort on the Maine was a rich imperial city of Germany, which, at an early period, had embraced the Reformation, and befriended protestant refugees from all countries, so far as this could be done without coming to an open breach with the emperor, by whom their conduct was watched with a jealous eye. There was already a church of French protestants in that city. On the 14th of July, 1554, the English who had come to Frankfort obtained from the magistrates the joint use of the place of worship allotted to the French, with liberty to perform religious service in their own language.206 This was granted upon the condition of their conforming, as nearly as possible, to the mode of worship used by the French church; a prudent precaution dictated by the political situation in which the city was placed. The offer was gratefully accepted by the English, who came to a unanimous agreement, that they would omit the use of the surplice, the litany, the audible responses, and some other ceremonies prescribed by the English liturgy, which, “in those reformed churches, would seem more than strange,” or which were “superstitious and superfluous.” Having settled this point in the most harmonious manner, elected deacons and a temporary pastor, and agreed upon certain rules of discipline, they wrote a circular letter to their brethren who were scattered through different places, informing them of the agreeable settlement which they had obtained, and inviting them to participate in their accommodations at Frankfort, and unite with them in prayers for the afflicted church of England. The exiles at Strasburg, in their reply to this letter, recommended to them certain persons as well qualified for filling the offices of superintendent and pastor; a recommendation not asked by the congregation at Frankfort, who did not think a superintendent necessary in their situation, and who intended to put themselves under the inspection of two or three pastors invested with equal authority. They, accordingly, proceeded to make choice of three persons to this office. One of these was Knox, who received information of his election by a letter written in the name of the congregation, and subscribed by its principal members.207

The deputation which waited on him with this invitation found him engaged in the prosecution of his studies at Geneva. From aversion to sacrifice the advantages which he enjoyed, or from the apprehension of difficulties that he might meet with at Frankfort, he would gladly have excused himself from accepting the invitation. But the deputies having employed the powerful intercession of Calvin,208 he was induced to comply, and repairing to Frankfort in the month of November, commenced his ministry with the universal consent and approbation of the church. Previous to his arrival, however, the harmony which at first subsisted among that people had been disturbed. In reply to the letter addressed to them, the exiles at Zurich had signified that they would not come to Frankfort, unless they obtained security that the church there would “use the same order of service concerning religion, which was, in England, last set forth by king Edward;” for they were fully determined “to admit and use no other.” They alleged, that, by varying from that service, they would give occasion to their adversaries to charge their religion with imperfection and mutability, and would condemn their brethren who were sealing it with their blood in England. To these representations the brethren at Frankfort replied, that they had obtained the liberty of a place of worship, upon condition of their accommodating themselves as much as possible to the forms used by the French church; that there were a number of things in the English service‑book which would be offensive to the protestants among whom they resided, and which had been occasion of scruple to conscientious persons at home; that, by the variations which they had introduced, they were very far from meaning to throw any reflection upon the regulations of their late sovereign and his council, who had themselves altered many things, and had resolved on still greater alterations, without thinking that they gave any handle to their popish adversaries; and still less did they mean to detract from the credit of the martyrs, who, they were persuaded, shed their blood in confirmation of more important things than mutable ceremonies of human appointment. This reply had the effect of lowering the tone of the exiles at Zurich, but it did not satisfy them; and, instead of desisting from the controversy, and contenting themselves with remaining where they were, they instigated their brethren at Strasburg to urge the same request, and, by letters and messengers, fomented dissension in the congregation at Frankfort.209

When Knox arrived, he found that the seeds of animosity had already sprung up among them. From what we already know of his sentiments respecting the English service‑book, we may be sure that the eagerness manifested by those who wished to impose it was very displeasing to him. But so sensible was he of the pernicious and discreditable effects of division among brethren exiled for the same faith, that he resolved to act as a moderator between the two parties, and to avoid, as far as possible, every thing which might have a tendency to widen or continue the breach. Accordingly, when the congregation had agreed to adopt the order of the Genevan church,210 and requested him to proceed to administer the communion according to it, although he approved of that form, he declined carrying it into practice, until their learned brethren in other places were consulted. At the same time, he signified that he had not freedom to dispense the sacraments agreeably to the English liturgy. If he could not be allowed to perform this service in a manner more consonant to scripture, he requested that some other person might be employed in this part of duty, in which case he would willingly confine himself to preaching; and if neither of these could be granted, he besought them to release him altogether from his charge. To this last request they would by no means consent.

Fearing that, if these differences were not speedily accommodated, they would burst into a flame, Knox, and some other members of the congregation, drew up a summary of the Book of Common Prayer, and, having translated it into Latin, sent it to Calvin for his opinion and advice. In a reply, dated January 20, 1555, Calvin stated, that he was grieved to hear of the unseemly contentions which prevailed among them; that, although he had always recommended moderation respecting external ceremonies, yet he could not but condemn the obstinacy of those who would consent to no change of old customs; that in the liturgy of England he had found many tolerable fooleries, (tolerabiles ineptias,)—practices which might be tolerated at the beginning of a reformation, but ought to be removed as soon as possible; that, in his opinion, the present condition of the English exiles warranted them to attempt this, and to agree upon an order more conducive to edification; and that, for his part, he could not understand what those persons meant who discovered such fondness for popish dregs.211

This letter, when read to the congregation, had a great effect in repressing the keenness of such as had urged the unlimited use of the liturgy; and a committee was appointed to draw up a form which might put an end to all differences.212 When this committee met, Knox told them that he was convinced it was necessary for one of the parties to relent before they could come to an amicable settlement; and that he would therefore state what he judged most proper to be done, and having exonerated himself, would allow them, without opposition, to determine as they should answer to God and the church. They accordingly agreed upon a form of worship, in which the English liturgy was followed, so far as their circumstances and the general ends of edification, permitted. This was to continue in force until the end of April next; and if any dispute arose in the interval, it was to be referred to five of the most celebrated foreign divines. The agreement was subscribed by all the members of the congregation; thanks were publicly returned to God for the restoration of harmony; and the communion was received as a pledge of union, and of the burial of all past offences.

But this agreement was soon after violated, and the peace of that unhappy congregation again broken, in the most wanton and inexcusable manner. On the 13th of March, 1555, Dr Cox, who had been preceptor to Edward VI., came from England to Frankfort, with some others in his company. The first day on which they attended public worship after their arrival, they broke through the established order, by answering aloud after the minister in the time of divine service. Being admonished by some of the elders to refrain from that practice, they insolently replied, “that they would do as they had done in England; and they would have the face of an English church.”—“The Lord grant it to have the face of Christ’s church,” says Knox, in an account which he drew up of these transactions; “and therefore I would have had it agreeable, in outward rites and ceremonies, with Christian churches reformed.”213

On the following Sabbath, one of their number, having intruded himself into the pulpit, without the consent of the pastors or the congregation, read the litany, while Cox and his accomplices echoed the responses. This offensive behaviour was aggravated by the consideration, that some of them had, before leaving England, been guilty of compliances with popery, for which they had not yet given satisfaction to their brethren.

Such an infraction of public order, as well as insult upon the whole body, could not be passed over in silence. It was Knox’s turn to preach on the afternoon of the Sabbath when this occurred. In his ordinary course of lecturing through the book of Genesis, he had occasion to discourse of the manner in which offences committed by professors of religion ought to be treated. Having mentioned that there were infirmities in their conduct over which a veil should be thrown, he proceeded to remark, that offences which openly dishonoured God and disturbed the peace of the church, ought to be disclosed and publicly rebuked. He then reminded them of the contention which had existed in the congregation, and of the happy manner in which, after long and painful labour, it had been ended, to the joy of all, by the solemn agreement which had that day been so flagrantly violated. This, he said, it became not the proudest of them to have attempted. Nothing which was destitute of a divine warrant ought to be obtruded upon any Christian church. In that book for which some entertained such an overweening fondness, he would undertake to prove publicly, that there were things imperfect, impure, and superstitious; and if any should go about to burden a free congregation with such things, he would not fail, as often as he occupied that place, provided his text afforded occasion, to oppose their design. As he had been forced to enter upon that subject, he would say further, that, in his judgment, slackness in reforming religion, when time and opportunity were granted for this purpose, was one cause of the divine displeasure against England. He adverted also to the trouble which bishop Hooper had suffered for refusing to comply with some of the ceremonies, to the want of discipline, and to the well‑known fact, that three, four, or five benefices had been held by one man, to the depriving of the flock of Christ of their necessary food.

This free reprimand was highly resented by those against whom it was levelled, especially by such as had held pluralities in England, who insisted that the preacher should be called to account for slandering their mother church. A special meeting being held for the consideration of this affair, the friends of the liturgy, instead of prosecuting their complaints against Knox, began with requiring that Cox and his friends should be admitted to a vote in the discussion. This was resisted by the great majority, on the ground that these persons had not yet subscribed the discipline of the church, nor given satisfaction for their late disorderly conduct, and their sinful compliances in England. The behaviour of our Reformer, on this occasion, was more remarkable for magnanimity than prudence. Although aware of the hostility of Cox’s adherents to himself, and that they sought admission chiefly to overpower him by numbers, he was so confident of the justice of his cause, and so anxious to remove prejudices, that he entreated and prevailed with the meeting to yield to their unreasonable request, and to admit them immediately to a vote. “I know,” said he, “that your earnest desire to be received at this instant within the number of the congregation, is, that, by the multitude of your voices, ye may overthrow my cause. Howbeit, the matter is so evident, that ye shall not be able to do it. I fear not your judgment; and therefore do require that ye may be admitted.”214 This disinterestedness was thrown away on the opposite party; for no sooner were they admitted, and had obtained a majority of voices, than Cox, usurping an authority with which he had never been invested, discharged Knox from preaching, and from all interference in the congregational affairs.215

The great body of the congregation were indignant at these proceedings; and there was reason to fear that the mutual animosity would break out into a disgraceful tumult. To prevent this, some of the members made a representation of the case to the senate of Frankfort, who, after recommending in vain a private accommodation, issued an order that the congregation should conform exactly to the mode of service used by the French church, as nothing but confusion had ensued since they departed from it; and threatened, if this was not complied with, to shut up their place of worship. To this peremptory injunction the Coxian faction pretended a cheerful submission, while they clandestinely concerted measures for obtaining its revocation, and enforcing their favourite liturgy upon a reclaiming congregation.

Perceiving the influence which our countryman had in the church, and despairing to carry their plan into execution so long as he was among them, they determined, in the first place, to rid themselves of his presence. To accomplish this object, they had recourse to one of the basest and most unchristian arts ever employed to ruin an adversary. Two of them, in concurrence with others, went privately to the magistrates, and accused Knox of high treason against the emperor of Germany, his son Philip, and queen Mary of England; putting into their hands at the same time a copy of a book which he had lately published, and in which the passages containing the grounds of charge were marked. “O Lord God!” says Knox, when relating this step, “open their hearts to see their wickedness, and forgive them for thy manifold mercies. And I forgive them, O Lord, from the bottom of mine heart. But that thy message sent by my mouth may not be slandered, I am compelled to declare the cause of my departing, and to utter their follies, to their amendment, I trust, and the example of others, who, in the same banishment, can have so cruel hearts as to persecute their brethren.”216 The book which the informers left with the magistrates was his Admonition to England; and the passage upon which they principally fixed, as substantiating the charge of treason against the emperor, was the following, originally spoken to the inhabitants of Amersham in Buckinghamshire,217 on occasion of the rumoured marriage of queen Mary with Philip, the son and heir of Charles V., a match which was at that time dreaded by many of the English catholics. “O England, England, if thou obstinately wilt return into Egypt, that is, if thou contract marriage, confederacy, or league with such princes as do maintain and advance idolatry, such as the emperor, who is no less enemy to Christ than ever was Nero—if for the pleasure of such princes thou return to thy old abominations before used under papistry, then assuredly, O England, thou shalt be plagued and brought to desolation, by the means of those whose favour thou seekest!” The other passages related to the cruelties of the English queen. Not to speak of the extravagance of the charge which they founded upon these passages, and of the unbrotherly spirit which they discovered, it was with little grace and consistency that the sticklers for the English forms availed themselves of the strong language which Knox had employed in the warmth of his zeal, in order to excite prejudices against him; and it would be no difficult task to extract from their writings declamations against their own queen, and against foreign princes, more intemperate than any thing that ever proceeded from his pen.218

In consequence of this accusation, the magistrates sent for Whittingham, a respectable member of the English congregation, and interrogated him concerning Knox’s character. He told them that he was “a learned, grave, and godly man.” They then acquainted him with the serious accusation which had been lodged against him by some of his countrymen, and giving him the book, charged him, sub pœna pacis, to bring them an exact Latin translation of the passages which were marked. This being done, they commanded Knox to desist from preaching until their pleasure should be known. To this command he peaceably submitted; “yet,” says he in his narrative, “being desirous to hear others, I went to the church next day, not thinking that my company would have offended any. But as soon as my accusers saw me, they, with ―― and others, departed from the sermon; some of them protesting with great vehemence, that they would not tarry where I was.”219 The magistrates were extremely perplexed how to act in this delicate business. On the one hand, they were satisfied of the malice of Knox’s accusers; on the other, they were afraid that information of the charge would be conveyed to the emperor’s council, which then sat at Augsburg, and that they might be obliged to deliver up the accused to them, or to the queen of England. In this dilemma, they desired Whittingham to advise his friend privately to retire of his own accord from Frankfort. At the same time, they did not dissemble their detestation of the unnatural conduct of the informers, who, having waited upon them to know the result of their deliberations, were dismissed from their presence with evident marks of displeasure.

On the 25th of March, Knox delivered a most consolatory discourse to about fifty members of the congregation, who assembled at his lodgings in the evening. Next day they accompanied him some miles on his journey from Frankfort, and, with heavy hearts and many tears, committed him to God, and took their leave.

No sooner was Knox gone, than Cox, who had privately concerted the plan with Glauberg, a civilian, and nephew of the chief magistrate, procured an order from the senate for the unlimited use of the English liturgy, by means of the false representation, that it was now universally acceptable to the congregation. The next step was the abrogation of the code of discipline, and then the appointment of a bishop, or superintendent over the pastors. Having accomplished these important improvements, they could now boast that they had “the face of an English church.” Yes, they could now raise their heads above all the reformed churches which had the honour of entertaining them, and which, though they might have all the office‑bearers and ordinances instituted by Christ, had neither bishop, nor litany, nor surplice! They could now lift up their faces in the presence of the church of Rome herself, and cherish the hope that she would not altogether disown them! But let me not forget, that the men of whom I write were at this time suffering exile for the protestant religion, and that they really detested the body of popery, though childishly and superstitiously attached to its attire, and gestures, and language.

The sequel of the transactions in the English congregation at Frankfort, does not properly belong to this memoir. I shall only add, that after some ineffectual attempts to obtain satisfaction for the breach of the church’s peace, and the injurious treatment of their minister, a considerable number of the members left the city. Some of them, among whom was Fox, the celebrated martyrologist, repaired to Basle. The greater part went to Geneva, where they obtained a place of worship, and lived in great harmony and love, until the storm of persecution in England blew over at the death of queen Mary; while those who remained at Frankfort, as if to expiate their offence against Knox, continued a prey to endless contention. Cox and his learned colleagues, having accomplished their favourite object, soon left them to compose the strife which they had excited, and provided themselves elsewhere with a less expensive situation for carrying on their studies.220

I have been the more minute in the detail of these transactions, not only on account of the share which the subject of this memoir had in them, but because they throw light upon the controversy between the conformists and non‑conformists, which runs through the succeeding period of the ecclesiastical history of England. “The troubles at Frankfort” present, in miniature, a striking picture of that contentious scene which was afterwards exhibited on a larger scale in the mother‑country. The issue of that affair augured ill as to the prospect of an amicable adjustment of the litigated points. It had been usual to urge conformity to the obnoxious ceremonies, from the respect due to the authority by which they were enjoined. But in this instance the civil authority, so far from enjoining, had rather discountenanced them. If they were urged with such intolerant importunity in a place where the laws and customs were repugnant to them, what was to be expected in England, where law and custom were on their side? The divines who received ecclesiastical preferment at the accession of Elizabeth, professed, that they desired the removal of these grounds of strife, but could not obtain it from the queen; and I am disposed to give many of them credit for the sincerity of their professions. But as they showed themselves so stiff and unyielding when the matter was wholly in their own power—as some of them were so eager in wreathing a yoke about the consciences of their brethren as to urge reluctant magistrates to rivet it, is it any wonder that their applications for relief were cold and ineffectual, when made to rulers who were disposed to make the yoke still more severe, and to “chastise with scorpions those whom they had chastised with whips?” I repeat it; when I consider the transactions at Frankfort, I am not surprised at the defeat of every subsequent attempt to advance the Reformation in England, or to procure relief to those who scrupled to yield conformity to some of the ecclesiastical laws. I know it is pleaded, that the things complained of are matters of indifference, not prohibited in scripture, not imposed as essential to religion or necessary to salvation, matters that can affect no well‑informed conscience; and that such as refuse them, when enacted by authority, are influenced by unreasonable scrupulosity, conceited, pragmatical, opinionative. This has been the usual language of a ruling party, when imposing upon the consciences of the minority. But not to urge here the danger of allowing to any class of rulers, civil or ecclesiastical, a power of enjoining indifferent things in religion; nor the undeniable fact, that the burdensome system of ceremonial observances, by which religion was corrupted under the papacy, was gradually introduced under these and similar pretexts; nor that the things in question, when complexly and formally considered, are not really matters of indifference; not to insist at present upon these topics, the answer to the above plea is short and decisive. These things appear matters of conscience and importance to the scruplers; you say they are matters of indifference. Why then violate the sacred peace of the church, and perpetuate division; why silence, deprive, harass, and starve men of acknowledged learning and piety, and drive from communion a sober and devout people; why torture their consciences, and endanger their souls, by the imposition of things, which, in your judgment, are indifferent, not necessary, and unworthy to become objects of contention?

Upon retiring from Frankfort, Knox went directly to Geneva. He was cordially welcomed back by Calvin. As his advice had great weight in disposing Knox to comply with the invitation from Frankfort, he felt much hurt at the treatment which had obliged him to leave it. In reply to an apologetic epistle which he received from Dr Cox, Calvin, although he prudently restrained himself from saying any thing which might revive or increase the flame, could not conceal his opinion, that Knox had been used in an unbrotherly and unchristian manner, and that it would have been better for his accuser to have remained at home, than to have come into a foreign country as a firebrand to inflame a peaceable society.221

It appeared from the event, that providence had disengaged Knox from his late charge, to employ him on a more important service. From the time that he was carried prisoner into France, he had never lost sight of Scotland, nor relinquished the hope of again preaching in his native country. While he resided at Berwick and Newcastle, he had frequent opportunities of personal intercourse with his countrymen, and of learning the state of religion among them.222 His unintermitted labours, during the five years which he spent in England, by occupying his time and attention, lessened the regret which he felt at seeing the object of his wishes apparently at as great a distance as ever. Upon leaving that kingdom, his thoughts were anxiously turned to Scotland. He found means to carry on an epistolary correspondence with some of his friends at home; one great object of his journeys to Dieppe was to receive their letters;223 and he had the satisfaction, soon after his retreat from Frankfort, to obtain such information from them, as encouraged him to execute his design of paying a visit to his native country. To prepare the reader for the account of this journey, it will be necessary to take a view of the principal events which had occurred in that kingdom from the time that Knox was forced to leave it.

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The surrender of the castle of St Andrews seemed to have given an irrecoverable blow to the reformed interest in Scotland. Among the prisoners conveyed to France were some of the most zealous and able protestants in the kingdom; and the rest, seeing themselves at the mercy of their adversaries, were dispirited and intimidated. The clergy triumphed in the victory which they had obtained,224 and flattered themselves that they would now be able with ease to stifle all opposition to their measures. The regent, being guided entirely by his brother, the archbishop of St Andrews, was ready to employ all the power of the state in support of the church, and for suppressing those who refused to submit to her decisions. During the confusions produced by the invasion of the kingdom under the duke of Somerset, and by the disastrous defeat of the Scots at Pinkie, in the year 1547, the regent found it his interest not to irritate the protestants; but no sooner was he freed from the alarm created by these events than be began to treat them with severity. Aware that it would be extremely invidious to prosecute the barons and gentry upon a charge of heresy, and perhaps convinced that such measures in the time of his predecessor, had proved injurious to the hierarchy, the crafty primate commenced his attack by bringing them to trial for crimes against the state.225 Although they had conducted themselves in the most peaceable and loyal manner during the late invasion, and many of them had died under the standard of the regent,226 they were accused of being secretly favourable to the English, and of holding correspondence with them. Cockburn of Ormiston, and Crichton of Brunston, were banished, and their estates forfeited.227 Sir John Melville of Raith, a gentleman of distinguished probity, and of untainted loyalty, was accused of a traitorous connexion with the enemy; and although the only evidence adduced in support of the charge was a letter written by him to one of his sons then in England, and although this letter contained nothing criminal, yet was he unjustly condemned and beheaded.228 The signing of a treaty of peace with England, in 1550, was a signal for the clergy to proceed to acts of more undisguised persecution. Adam Wallace, who had lived for some time as tutor in the family of Ormiston, was apprehended, and being tried for heresy before a convention of clergy and nobility was committed to the flames on the Castle‑hill of Edinburgh.229 These prosecutions were not confined to persons in holy orders. George Winchester of Kinglassie was summoned before the archbishop and clergy at St Andrews, and, having made his escape, was condemned as a heretic, and his goods escheated.230 In the following year, the parliament renewed the laws in support of the church, and added a new statute against the circulation of heretical ballads and tragedies.231

By these severe measures the clergy struck terror into the minds of the nation; but they were unable to conceal the glaring corruptions by which their own order was disgraced, and they could not remain strangers to the murmurs that these had excited throughout the whole kingdom. In the month of November 1549, a provincial council was held at Edinburgh “for the reformation of the church, and the extirpation of heresy.232 This council acknowledged that “corruption and profane lewdness of life as well as gross ignorance of arts and sciences, reigned among the clergy of almost every degree,”233 and they enacted no fewer than fifty‑eight canons for correcting these evils. They agreed to carry into execution the decree of the general council of Basle, which ordained, that every clergyman who lived in concubinage should be deprived of the revenues of his benefice for three months, and that if, after due admonition, he did not dismiss his concubine, or if he took to himself another, he should be deprived of his benefices altogether.234 They exhorted the prelates and inferior clergy not to retain in their own houses their bastard children, nor suffer them to be promoted directly or indirectly to their own benefices, nor employ the patrimony of the church for the purpose of marrying them to barons, or of erecting baronages for them.235 That the distinction between clergy and laity might be visibly preserved, they appointed the ordinaries to charge the priests under their care to desist from the practice of preserving their beards, which had begun to prevail, and to see that the canonical tonsure was duly observed.236 To remedy the neglect of public instruction, which was loudly complained of, they agreed to observe the act of the council of Trent, which ordained that every bishop, “according to the grace given to him,” should preach personally four times a year at least, unless lawfully hindered; and that such of them as were unfit for this duty, through want of practice, should endeavour to qualify themselves, and for that end should entertain in their houses learned divines capable of instructing them. The same injunctions were laid on rectors.237 They determined that a benefice should be set apart in each bishopric and monastery, for supporting a preacher who might supply the want of teaching within their bounds; that, where no such benefice was set apart, pensions should be allotted; and that, where neither of these was provided, the preacher should be entitled to demand from the rector forty shillings a‑year, provided he had preached four times in his parish within that period.238 The council made a number of other regulations, concerning the dress and diet of the clergy, the course of study in cathedral churches and monasteries, union of benefices, pluralities, ordinations, dispensations, and the method of process in consistorial courts. But not trusting altogether to these remedies for the cure of heresy, they farther ordained that the bishop of each diocese, and the head of each monastery, should appoint “inquisitors of heretical pravity, men of piety, probity, learning, good fame, and great circumspection,” who should make the most diligent search after heresies, foreign opinions, condemned books, and particularly profane songs, intended to defame the clergy, or to detract from the authority of the ecclesiastical constitutions.239

Another provincial council, held in 1551 and 1552, besides ratifying the preceding canons,240 adopted an additional expedient for correcting the continued neglect of public instruction. After declaring that “the inferior clergy, and the prelates for the most part, were still unqualified for instructing the people in the catholic faith, and other things necessary to salvation, and for reclaiming the erroneous,” they proceeded to approve of a catechism which had been compiled in the Scottish language, ordered that it should be printed, and that copies of it should be sent to all rectors, vicars, and curates, who were enjoined to read a portion of it, instead of a sermon, to their parishioners, on every Sunday and holiday, when no person qualified for preaching was present. The rectors, vicars, and curates, were enjoined to practise daily in reading their catechism, lest, on ascending the pulpit, they should stammer and blunder, and thereby expose themselves to the laughter of the people. The archbishop was directed, after supplying the clergy with copies, to keep the remainder beside him “in firm custody;” and the inferior clergy were prohibited from indiscreetly communicating their copies to the people, without the permission of their bishops, who might allow this privilege to “certain honest, grave, trusty, and discreet laics, who appeared to desire it for the sake of instruction, and not of gratifying curiosity.”241 If any of the hearers testified a disposition to call in question any part of the catechism, the clerical reader was prohibited, under the pain of deprivation, from entering into dispute with them on the subject, and was instructed to delate them to the inquisitors.242

Many of the regulations enacted by these two councils were excellent;243 but the execution of them was committed to the very persons who were interested in support of the evils against which they were directed. Accordingly, the canons of the Scottish clergy, like those of general councils called for the reformation of the church, instead of correcting, served only to proclaim the abuses which prevailed. We know from the declarations of subsequent provincial councils,244 as well as from the complaints of the people, that the licentiousness of the clergy continued; and the catechism which they had sanctioned seems to have been but little used. I have not found it mentioned by any writer of that age, popish or protestant; and we know of its existence only from the canon of the assembly which authorized its use, and from a few copies of it which have descended to our time.245

The council which met in 1551, boasts that, through the singular favour of the government, and the vigilance of the prelates, heresy, which had formerly spread through the kingdom, was now repressed, and almost extinguished.246 There were still, however, many protestants in the nation; but they were deprived of teachers, and they satisfied themselves with retaining their sentiments, without exposing their lives to inevitable destruction by avowing their creed, or exciting the suspicions of the clergy by holding private conventicles. In this state they remained from 1551 to 1554.

While the Reformation was in this languishing condition, it experienced a sudden revival in Scotland, from two causes which appeared at first view to threaten its utter extinction in Britain. These were the elevation of the queen dowager to the regency of Scotland, and the accession of Mary to the throne of England.

The queen dowager of Scotland, who possessed a great portion of that ambition by which her brothers, the princes of Lorrain, were fired, had long formed the design of wresting the regency from the hands of Arran. After a series of political intrigue, in which she discovered the most consummate and persevering address, she at last succeeded; and, on the 10th of April, 1554, the regent resigned his office to her in the presence of parliament, and retired into private life with the title of duke of Chastelherault. The dowager had at an early period made her court to the protestants, whom Arran had alienated from him by persecution; and, to induce them to favour her pretensions, she promised to screen them from the violence of the clergy. Having received their cordial support, and finding it necessary still to use them as a check upon the clergy, who, under the influence of the primate, favoured the interest of her rival, the queen regent secretly countenanced them, and the protestants were emboldened again to avow their sentiments.

In the meantime, the queen of England was exerting all her power to crush the Reformation; and had the court of Scotland acted in concert with her for this purpose, the protestants must, according to all human probability, have been exterminated in Britain. But the English queen having married Philip, king of Spain, while the queen regent was indissolubly attached to France, the rival of Spain, a coldness was produced between these two princesses, which was soon after succeeded by an open breach. Among the protestants who fled from the cruelty of Mary, some took refuge in Scotland, where they were suffered to remain undisturbed, and even to teach in private, through the connivance of the new regent, and in consequence of the security into which the clergy had been lulled by success. Travelling from place to place, they propagated instruction, and by their example and their exhortations fanned the latent zeal of those who had formerly received the knowledge of the truth.

William Harlow, whose zeal and acquaintance with the scriptures compensated for the defects of his education, was the first preacher who at this time came to Scotland. Let those who do not know, or who wish to forget, that the religion which they profess was first preached by fishermen and tentmakers, labour to conceal the occupations of some of those men whom providence raised up to spread the reformed gospel through their native country. Harlow had followed the trade of a tailor in Edinburgh;247 but having imbibed the protestant doctrine, he retired to England, where he was admitted to deacon’s orders, and employed as a preacher, during the reign of Edward VI.248 Upon his return to Scotland, he remained for some time in Ayrshire, and continued to preach in different parts of the country, with great fervour and diligence, until the establishment of the Reformation, when he was admitted minister of St Cuthbert’s, in the vicinity of Edinburgh.249

Some time after him arrived John Willock. This reformer afterwards became the principal coadjutor of Knox, who never mentions him without expressions of affection and esteem. The cordiality which subsisted between them, the harmony of their sentiments, and the combination of the peculiar talents and qualities by which they were distinguished, conduced in no small degree to the advancement of the Reformation. Willock was not inferior to Knox in learning, and, though he did not equal him in eloquence and intrepidity, surpassed him in affability, in moderation, and in address:250 qualities which enabled him sometimes to maintain his station and to accomplish his purposes, when his colleague could not act with safety or with success. He was a native of Ayrshire, and had belonged to the order of Franciscan friars; but, having embraced the reformed opinions at an early period, he threw off the monastic habit, and fled to England. During the persecution for the Six Articles in 1541, he was thrown into the prison of the Fleet. He afterwards became chaplain to the duke of Suffolk, the father of lady Jane Grey;251 and upon the accession of queen Mary, left England, and took up his residence at Embden. Having practised there as a physician, he was introduced to Anne, duchess of Friesland, who patronised the Reformation,252 and whose opinion of his talents and integrity induced her to send him to Scotland, in the summer of 1555, with a commission to the queen regent, to make some arrangements respecting the trade carried on between the two countries. The public character with which he was invested gave Willock an opportunity of cultivating acquaintance with the leading protestants, and while he resided in Edinburgh, they met with him in private, and listened to his religious instructions.253

Knox received the news of this favourable change in the situation of his brethren with heartfelt satisfaction. He did not know what it was to fear danger, and was little accustomed to consult his own ease, when he had the prospect of being useful in advancing the interests of truth; but he acknowledges that, on the present occasion, he was at first averse to a journey into Scotland, notwithstanding some encouraging circumstances in the intelligence which he had received from that quarter. He had been so much tossed about of late, that he felt a peculiar relish in the learned leisure which he at present enjoyed, and which he was desirous to prolong. His anxiety to see his wife, after an absence of nearly two years, and the importunity with which his mother‑in‑law, in her letters, urged him to visit them, determined him at last to undertake the journey.254 Setting out from Geneva in the month of August 1555, he came to Dieppe, and, sailing from that port, landed on the east coast, near the boundaries between Scotland and England, about the end of harvest.255 He repaired immediately to Berwick, where he had the satisfaction of finding his wife and her mother in comfortable circumstances, and enjoying the happiness of religious society with several individuals in that city, who, like themselves, had not “bowed the knee” to the established idolatry, nor consented to “receive the mark” of antichrist.256

Having remained some time with them, he set out secretly to visit the protestants in Edinburgh; intending, after a short stay, to return to Berwick. But he found employment which detained him beyond his expectation. He lodged with James Syme, a respectable burgess of Edinburgh, in whose house the friends of the Reformation assembled, to attend the instructions of Knox, as soon as they were informed of his arrival. Few of the inhabitants of the metropolis had as yet embraced the reformed doctrines, but several persons had repaired to it at this time, from other parts of the country, to meet with Willock. Among these were John Erskine of Dun, whom we had formerly occasion to mention as an early favourer of the new opinions, and a distinguished patron of literature,257 and whose great respectability of character, and approved loyalty and patriotism, had preserved him from the resentment of the clergy, and the jealousy of the government, during successive periods of persecution;258 and William Maitland of Lethington, a young gentleman of the finest parts, improved by a superior education, but inclined to subtlety in reasoning, accommodating in his religious sentiments, and extremely versatile in his political conduct. Highly gratified with Knox’s discourses, which were greatly superior to any which they had heard either from popish or protestant preachers, they brought their acquaintances along with them to hear him, and his audiences daily increased. Being confined to a private house, he was obliged to preach to successive assemblies; and was unremittingly employed, by night as well as by day, in communicating instruction to persons who demanded it with extraordinary avidity. The following letter, written by him to Mrs Bowes, to excuse himself for not returning so soon as he had purposed, will convey the best idea of his employment and feelings on this interesting occasion.

“The wayis of man are not in his awn power. Albeit my journey toward Scotland, belovit mother, was maist contrarious to my awn judgment, befoir I did interpryse the same; yet this day I prais God for thame wha was the cause externall of my resort to theis quarteris; that is, I prais God in yow and for yow, whom hie maid the instrument to draw me from the den of my awn eas, (you allane did draw me from the rest of quyet studie,) to contemplat and behald the fervent thirst of our brethrene, night and day sobbing and gronying for the breide of life. Gif I had not sene it with my eis, in my awn country, I culd not have beleveit it! I praisit God, when I was with you, perceaving that, in the middis of Sodome, God had mo Lottis than one, and mo faithful douchteris than tua. But the fervencie heir doith fer exceid all utheris that I have seen. And thairfor ye sall paciently bear, altho’ I spend heir yet sum dayis; for depart I cannot, unto sic tyme as God quenche thair thirst a litill. Yea, mother, thair fervencie doith sa ravische me, that I cannot but accus and condemp my sleuthful coldnes. God grant thame thair hartis desyre; and I pray yow adverteis [me] of your estait, and of thingis that have occurit sense your last wrytting. Comfort yourself in Godis promissis, and be assureit that God steiris up mo friendis than we be war of. My commendation to all in your company. I commit you to the protectioun of the omnipotent. In great haist; the 4. of November, 1555. From Scotland. Your sone, Johne Knox.”259

Having executed his commission, Willock returned to Embden; and he quitted Scotland with the less regret, as he left behind him one who was so capable of promoting the cause which he had at heart. When he first arrived in Scotland, Knox found that the friends of the reformed doctrine continued, in general, to attend the popish worship, and even the celebration of mass; principally with the view of avoiding the scandal which they would otherwise incur. Highly disapproving of this practice, he laboured, in his conversation and sermons, to convince them of the great impiety of that part of the popish service, and the criminality of countenancing it by their presence. Doubts being still entertained on the subject by some, a meeting of the protestants in the city was held for the express purpose of discussing the question. Maitland defended the practice with all the ingenuity and learning for which he was distinguished; but his arguments were so satisfactorily answered by Knox, that he yielded the point as indefensible, and agreed, with the rest of his brethren, to abstain for the future from such temporizing conduct. Thus was a formal separation made from the popish church in Scotland, which may be justly regarded as an important step in the Reformation.260

Erskine of Dun prevailed on Knox to accompany him to his family seat in the shire of Angus, where he continued a month, during which he preached every day. The principal persons in that neighbourhood attended his sermons. After his return to the south of the Forth, he resided at Calder‑house,261 in West Lothian, the seat of Sir James Sandilands, commonly called Lord St John, because he was chief in Scotland of the religious order of military knights who went by the name of Hospitallers, or Knights of St John. This gentleman, who was now venerable for his grey hairs as well as for his valour, sagacity, and correct morals, had long been a sincere friend to the reformed cause, and had contributed to its preservation in that part of the country.262 In 1548, he had presented to the parsonage of Calder, John Spottiswood,263 afterwards the reformed superintendent of Lothian, who had imbibed the protestant doctrines from archbishop Cranmer in England, and who instilled them into the minds of his parishioners, and of the nobility and gentry that frequented the house of his patron.264 Among those who attended Knox’s sermons at Calder, were three young noblemen, who made a great figure in the public transactions which followed;—Archibald, lord Lorn, who, succeeding to the earldom of Argyle at the most critical period of the Reformation, promoted, with all the ardour of youthful zeal, that cause which his father had espoused in extreme old age;—John, lord Erskine, afterwards earl of Mar, who commanded the important fortress of Edinburgh castle, during the civil war which ensued between the queen‑regent and the protestants, and died regent of Scotland;—and lord James Stewart, an illegitimate son of James V., who was subsequently created earl of Murray, and was the first regent of the kingdom during the minority of James VI. Being designed for the church, the last named nobleman had been in his youth made prior of St Andrews—a title by which he is often mentioned in history; but, on arriving at manhood, he discovered no inclination to follow the clerical profession. He was at this time in the twenty‑second year of his age;265 and although he had lived for the most part in retirement from the court, had already given proofs of those superior talents which he had soon a more favourable opportunity of displaying. Knox had formerly met with him in London, and his sagacity led him, even at that time, to form the highest expectations from the talents and spirit of the youthful prior.266 The three noblemen were much gratified with Knox’s doctrine, and his exhortations made an impression upon their minds, which remained during the succeeding part of their lives.

In the beginning of the year 1556, he was conducted by Lockhart of Bar, and Campbell of Kineancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient receptacle of the Scottish Lollards, where there were a number of adherents to the reformed doctrine. He preached in the houses of Bar, Kineancleugh, Carnell, Ochiltree, and Gadgirth, and in the town of Ayr. In several of these places he also dispensed the sacrament of our Lord’s supper. A little before Easter, he went to Finlayston, the baronial mansion of the noble family of Glencairn. William, earl of Glencairn, having been killed at the battle of Pinkie, had been succeeded by his son, Alexander, whose superior learning and ability did not escape the discerning eye of Sir Ralph Sadler, during his embassy in Scotland.267 He was an ardent and steady friend to the reformed religion, and had carefully instructed his family in its principles. In his house, besides preaching, Knox dispensed the sacrament of the supper; the earl himself, his countess, and two of their sons, with a number of their friends and acquaintance, participating of that sacred feast.268

From Finlayston he returned to Calder‑house, and soon after paid a second visit to Dun, during which he preached more openly than before. At this time the greater part of the gentlemen of Mearns made profession of the reformed religion, by sitting down at the Lord’s table; and entered into a solemn and mutual bond, in which they renounced the popish communion, and engaged to maintain and promote the pure preaching of the gospel, as providence should favour them with opportunities.269

This seems to have been the first of those religious bonds or covenants, by which the confederation of the protestants in Scotland was so frequently ratified. Although they have been condemned as unwarranted in a religious point of view, and dangerous in a political, yet are they completely defensible upon the principles both of conscience and policy. A mutual agreement, compact, or covenant, is virtually implied in the constitution of every society, civil or religious; and the dictates of natural law conspire with the declarations of revelation in sanctioning the warrantableness and propriety of explicit engagements, about any lawful and important matter, and of ratifying these, if circumstances shall require it, by formal subscription, and by a solemn appeal to the searcher of hearts. By strengthening the motives to fidelity and constancy, and thus producing mutual confidence among those who are embarked in the same cause, they have proved eminently beneficial in the reformation of churches and nations, and in securing the religious and political privileges of men. The misapplication of them, when employed in a bad cause and for mischievous ends, can be no argument against their use in a legitimate way, and for laudable purposes. And the reasoning employed to prove that such covenants should not be entered into without the permission of rulers, would lead to the conclusion, that subjects ought never to profess a religion to which their superiors are hostile, nor make any attempts to obtain the reform of abuses, or the redress of grievances, without the consent and approbation of those who are interested in their support.

The dangers to which Knox and his friends had been accustomed, taught them to conduct matters with such secrecy, that he had preached for a considerable time, and in different quarters of the country, before the clergy knew that he was in the kingdom. Concealment was, however, impracticable after his audiences became numerous. His preaching at Ayr was reported to the court, and formed the topic of conversation in the presence of the queen regent. Some one in the company having affirmed that the preacher was an Englishman, “a prelate, not of the least pride, said, ‘Nay; no Englishman, but it is Knox, that knave.’” This was Beatoun, archbishop of Glasgow. “It was my Lord’s pleasure,” says Knox, “so to baptize a poor man; the reason whereof, if it should be required, his rochet and mitre must stand for authority. What further liberty he used in defining things alike uncertain to him, to wit, of my learning and doctrine, at this present I omit. For what hath my life and conversation been, since it hath pleased God to call me from the puddle of papistry, let my very enemies speak; and what learning I have, they may prove when they please.”270 Interest was at that time made by the bishops for his apprehension, but without success.271

After his last journey to Angus, the friars flocked from all quarters to the bishops, and instigated them to adopt speedy and decisive measures for checking the alarming effects of his preaching. In consequence of this, he was summoned to appear before a convention of the clergy, in the church of the Blackfriars at Edinburgh, on the 15th of May. This diet he resolved to keep, and with that view came to Edinburgh, before the day appointed, accompanied by Erskine of Dun, and several other gentlemen. The clergy had never dreamed of his attendance. Being apprised of his determination, and afraid to bring matters to extremity, while unassured of the regent’s decided support, they met beforehand, set aside the summons under pretence of some informality, and deserted the diet against him. On the day on which he should have appeared as a culprit, Knox preached in the bishop of Dunkeld’s large lodging, to a far greater audience than had before attended him in Edinburgh. During the ten following days, he preached in the same place, forenoon and afternoon; none of the clergy making the smallest attempt to disturb him. It was in the midst of these labours, that he wrote the following hasty lines to Mrs Bowes.

“Belovit mother, with my maist hartlie commendation in the Lord Jesus, albeit I was fullie purpoisit to have visitit yow before this tyme, yet hath God laid impedimentis, whilk I culd not avoyd. Thay are suche as I dout not ar to his glorie, and to the comfort of many heir. The trumpet blew the ald sound thrie dayis together, till privat houssis of indifferent largenes culd not conteane the voce of it. God, for Christ his Sonis sake, grant me to be myndful, that the sobbis of my hart hath not been in vane, nor neglectit in the presence of his majestie. O! sweet war the death that suld follow sic fourtie dayis in Edinburgh, as heir I have had thrie. Rejose, mother; the tyme of our deliverance approacheth: for, as Sathan rageth, sa dois the grace of the Halie Spreit abound, and daylie geveth new testymonyis of the everlasting love of oure mercifull Father. I can wryt na mair to you at this present. The grace of the Lord Jesus rest with you. In haste—this Monunday—your sone, John Knox.”272

About this time, the Earl Marischal was induced to attend an evening exhortation delivered by Knox. He was so much pleased with the discourse, that he joined with Glencairn in urging the preacher to write a letter to the queen regent, which, they thought, might have the effect of inclining her to protect the reformed preachers, if not also to lend a favourable ear to their doctrine. With this request he was induced to comply.273

As a specimen of the manner in which this letter was written, I shall give the following quotation, in the original language. “I dout not, that the rumouris, whilk haif cumin to your grace’s earis of me, haif bene such, that (yf all reportis wer trew) I wer unworthie to live in the earth. And wonder it is, that the voces of the multitude suld not so have inflamed your grace’s hart with just hatred of such a one as I am accuseit to be, that all acces to pitie suld have been schute up. I am traducit as ane heretick, accusit as a false teacher and seducer of the pepill, besides other opprobries, whilk (affirmit by men of warldlie honour and estimation) may easelie kendill the wrath of majestratis, whair innocencie is not knawin. But blissit be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Chryst, who, by the dew of his heavenly grace, hath so quenchit the fyre of displeasure as yit in your grace’s hart, (whilk of lait dayis I have understood,) that Sathan is frustrat of his interpryse and purpois. Whilk is to my heart no small comfort; not so muche (God is witnes) for any benefit that I can resave in this miserable lyfe, by protectioun of any earthlie creature, (for the cupe whilk it behoveth me to drink is apoyntit by the wisdome of him whois consallis ar not changeable,) as that I am for that benefit whilk I am assurit your grace sall resave; yf that ye continew in like moderation and clemencie towardis utheris that maist unjustlie ar and sal be accusit, as that your grace hath begun towardis me, and my most desperate cause.” An orator (he continued) might justly require of her grace a motherly pity towards her subjects, the execution of justice upon murderers and oppressors, a heart free from avarice and partiality, a mind studious of the public welfare, with other virtues which heathen as well as inspired writers required of rulers. But, in his opinion, it was vain to crave reformation of manners, when religion was so much corrupted. He could not propose, in the present letter, to lay open the sources, progress, and extent of those errors and corruptions which had overspread and inundated the church; but, if her majesty would grant him opportunity and liberty of speech, he was ready to undertake this task. In the meantime, he could not refrain from calling her attention to this important subject, and pointing out to her the fallacy of some general prejudices, by which she was in danger of being deluded. She ought to beware of thinking, that the care of religion did not belong to magistrates, but was devolved wholly on the clergy; that it was a thing incredible that religion should be so universally depraved; or that true religion was to be judged of by the majority of voices, by custom, by the laws and determinations of men, or by any thing but the infallible dictates of inspired scripture. He knew that innovations in religion were deemed hazardous; but the urgent necessity and immense magnitude of the object ought, in the present case, to swallow up the fear of danger. He was aware that a public reformation might be thought to exceed her authority as regent; but she could not be bound to maintain idolatry and manifest abuses, nor to suffer the clergy to murder innocent men, merely because they worshipped God according to his word.

Though Knox’s pen was not the most smooth nor delicate, and though he often irritated by the plainness and severity of his language, the letter to the queen regent is very far from being uncourtly or inelegant. It seems to have been written with great care, and in point of style may be compared with any composition of that period, for simplicity and forcible expression.274 Its strain was well calculated for stimulating the enquiries, and confirming the resolutions, of one who was impressed with a conviction of the reigning evils in the church, or who, though not resolved in judgment as to the matters in controversy, was determined to preserve moderation between the contending parties. Notwithstanding her imposing manners, the regent was not a person of this description. The earl of Glencairn delivered the letter into her hand; she glanced over it with a careless air, and gave it to the archbishop of Glasgow, saying, “Please you, my lord, to read a pasquil.”275 The report of this induced Knox, after he retired from Scotland, to publish the letter, with additions. The style of the additions is more spirited and sharp than that of the original letter; but there is nothing even in them which is indecorous, or which will warrant the charge which has been brought against him of being accustomed to treat crowned heads with irreverence and disrespect. “As charitie,” says he, “persuadeth me to interpret thinges doubtfully spoken in the best sence, so my dutie to God (who hath commanded me to flatter no prince in the earth) compelleth me to say, that if no more ye esteme the admonition of God nor the cardinalles do the scoffing of pasquilles, then he shall schortly send you messagers, with whom ye shall not be able on that maner to jest.—I did not speak unto you, madame, by my former lettre, nether yet do I now, as Pasquillus doth to the pope, in behalf of such as dare not utter their names; but I come, in the name of Jesus Christ, affirming that the religion which ye maintain is damnable idolatrie: the which I offre myselfe to prove by the most evident testimonies of Goddis scriptures. And, in this quarrelle, I present myself againste all the papistes within the realme, desireing none other armore but Goddis holie word, and the libertie of my tonge.”276

While he was thus employed in Scotland, he received letters from the English congregation at Geneva, stating that they had made choice of him as one of their pastors, and urging him to come and take the inspection of them.277 He judged it his duty to comply with this invitation, and began immediately to prepare for the journey. His wife and mother‑in‑law had by this time joined him at Edinburgh; and Mrs Bowes, being now a widow, resolved to accompany Mrs Knox and her husband to Geneva. Having sent them before him in a vessel to Dieppe, Knox again visited and took his leave of the brethren in the different places where he had preached. He was conducted, by his friend Campbell of Kineancleuch, to the earl of Argyle, and preached for some days at his seat of Castle Campbell.278 That aged nobleman appears to have received durable impressions from the instructions of the Reformer. He resisted all the arts which the clergy afterwards employed to detach him from the protestant interest, and on his death‑bed laid a solemn charge upon his son to use his utmost influence for its preservation and advancement. Argyle, and Glenorchy, who was also a hearer of Knox, endeavoured to detain him in Scotland, but without success. “If God so blessed their small beginnings,” he said, “that they continued in godliness, whensoever they pleased to command him, they should find him obedient. But once he must needs visit that little flock, which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave.” Accordingly, in the month of July 1556, he left Scotland, and having joined his family at Dieppe, proceeded along with them to Geneva.279

No sooner did the clergy understand that he had quitted the kingdom, than they, in a dastardly manner, renewed the summons against him which they had deserted during his presence, and, upon his failing to appear, passed sentence against him, adjudging his body to the flames, and his soul to damnation. As his person was out of their reach, they caused his effigy to be ignominiously burned at the cross of Edinburgh. Against this sentence he drew up his Appellation, which he afterwards published, with a supplication and exhortation, directed to the nobility and commonalty of Scotland. It may not be improper here to subjoin the summary which he gave in this treatise of the doctrine taught by him during his late visit to Scotland, which the clergy pronounced so execrable, and deserving of such horrible punishment. He taught, that there is no other name by which men can be saved but that of Jesus, and that all reliance on the merits of others is vain and delusive; that the Saviour having by his one sacrifice sanctified and reconciled to God those who should inherit the promised kingdom, all other sacrifices which men pretend to offer for sin are blasphemous; that all men ought to hate sin, which is so odious before God that no sacrifice but the death of his Son could satisfy for it; that they ought to magnify their heavenly Father, who did not spare him who is the substance of his glory, but gave him up to suffer the ignominious and cruel death of the cross for us; and that those who have been washed from their former sins are bound to lead a new life, fighting against the lusts of the flesh, and studying to glorify God by good works. In conformity with the certification of his Master, that he would deny and be ashamed of those who should deny and be ashamed of him and his words before a wicked generation, he further taught, that it is incumbent on those who hope for life everlasting, to make an open profession of the doctrine of Christ, and to avoid idolatry, superstition, vain religion, and, in one word, every way of worship which is destitute of authority from the word of God. This doctrine he did believe so conformable to God’s holy scriptures, that he thought no creature could have been so impudent as to deny any point or article of it; yet had the false bishops and ungodly clergy condemned him as a heretic, and his doctrine as heretical, and pronounced against him the sentence of death, in testimony of which they had burnt his effigy: from which sentence he appealed to a lawful and general council, to be held agreeably to ancient laws and canons; humbly requesting the nobility and commons of Scotland, to take him, and others who were accused and persecuted, under their protection, until such time as these controversies were decided, and to regard this his plain appellation as of no less effect, than if it had been made with the accustomed solemnity and ceremonies.280

The late visit of our Reformer was of vast consequence. By his labours on this occasion, he laid the foundations of that noble edifice which he was afterwards so instrumental in completing. The friends of the protestant doctrine were separated from the corrupt communion to which, in a certain degree, they had hitherto adhered; their information in scriptural truth was greatly improved; and they were brought together in different parts of the nation, and prepared for being organized into a regular church, as soon as providence should grant them external liberty, and furnish them with persons qualified for acting as overseers. Some may be apt to blame him for abandoning with too great precipitation the undertaking which he had so auspiciously begun. But, without pretending to ascertain the train of reflections which occurred to his mind, we may trace, in his determination, the wise arrangements of that providence which watched over the infant Reformation, and guided the steps of the Reformer. His absence was now no less conducive to the preservation of the cause, than his presence and personal labours had lately been to its advancement. Matters were not yet ripened for a general reformation in Scotland; and the clergy would never have suffered so zealous and able a champion of the new doctrines to live in the country. By retiring at this time, he not only preserved his own life, and reserved his labours to a more fit opportunity, but he also averted the storm of persecution from the heads of his brethren. Deprived of teachers, they became objects of less jealousy to their adversaries; while in their private meetings, they continued to confirm one another in the doctrine which they had received, and the seed lately sown had sufficient time to take root and spread.

Before he took his departure, Knox gave his brethren such directions as he judged most necessary, and most useful to them, in their present circumstances. Not satisfied with communicating these orally, he committed them to writing in a common letter, which he either left behind him, or sent from Dieppe, to be circulated in the different quarters where he had preached. In this letter, he warmly recommends to every one the frequent and careful perusal of the scriptures. He inculcates the duty of attending to religious instruction and worship in each family. He exhorts the brethren to meet together once every week, if practicable, and gives them directions for conducting their assemblies, in the manner best adapted to their mutual improvement, while destitute of public teachers. They ought to begin with confession of sins, and invocation of the divine blessing. A portion of the scriptures should then be read; and they would find it of great advantage to observe a regular course in their reading, and to join a chapter of the Old and of the New Testament together. After the reading of the scriptures, if an exhortation, interpretation, or doubt, occurred to any brother, he might speak; but he ought to do it with modesty, and a desire to edify or to be edified, carefully avoiding “multiplication of words, perplexed interpretation, and wilfulness in reasoning.” If, in the course of reading or conference, they met with any difficulties which they could not solve, he advised them to commit these to writing, before they separated, that they might submit them to the judgment of the learned; and he signified his own readiness to give them his advice by letter, whenever it should be required. Their assemblies ought always to be closed, as well as opened, by prayer.281 There is every reason to conclude, that these directions were punctually complied with; this letter may therefore be viewed as an important document regarding the state of the protestant church in Scotland, previous to the establishment of the Reformation, and shall be inserted at large in the notes.282

Among his subsequent letters are answers to questions which his countrymen had transmitted to him for advice. The questions are such as might be supposed to arise in the minds of pious persons lately made acquainted with scripture, puzzled with particular expressions, and at a loss how to apply some of its directions to their situation. They discover an inquisitive and conscientious disposition; and at the same time, illustrate the disadvantages under which ordinary Christians labour when deprived of the assistance of learned teachers.283 Our Reformer’s answers display an intimate acquaintance with scripture, and dexterity in expounding it, with prudence in giving advice in cases of conscience, so as not to encourage a dangerous laxity on the one hand, or scrupulosity and excessive rigidness on the other.

PERIOD V.

FROM THE YEAR 1556, WHEN HE RETURNED TO GENEVA, AFTER VISITING SCOTLAND, TO MAY 1559, WHEN HE RETURNED TO SCOTLAND FOR THE LAST TIME.

Knox reached Geneva before the end of harvest, and took upon him the charge of the English congregation there,284 among whom he laboured during the two following years. This short period was the most quiet of his life. In the bosom of his own family, he experienced that soothing care to which he had hitherto been a stranger, and which his frequent bodily ailments now required. Two sons were borne to him in Geneva. The greatest affection to him, and cordiality among themselves, subsisted in the small flock under his charge. With his colleague, Christopher Goodman, he lived as a brother; and he was happy in the friendship of Calvin and the other pastors of Geneva. So much was he pleased with the purity of religion established in that city, that he warmly recommended it to his religious acquaintances in England, as the best Christian asylum to which they could flee. “In my heart,” says he, in a letter to his friend Mr Locke, “I could have wished, yea, and cannot cease to wish, that it might please God to guide and conduct yourself to this place, where, I neither fear nor eshame to say, is the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the apostles. In other places I confess Christ to be truly preached; but manners and religion to be so sincerely reformed, I have not yet seen in any other place beside.”285

But neither the enjoyment of personal accommodations, nor the pleasures of literary society, nor the endearments of domestic happiness, could subdue Knox’s ruling passion, or unfix his determination to revisit Scotland, as soon as an opportunity should offer, for advancing the Reformation among his countrymen. In a letter written to some of his friends in Edinburgh, March 16, 1557, he expresses himself in the following manner: “My own motion and daily prayer is, not only that I may visit you, but also that with joy I may end my battle among you. And assure yourself of this, that whenever a greater number among you shall call upon me than now hath bound me to serve them, by his grace it shall not be the fear of punishment, neither yet of the death temporal, that shall impede my coming to you.”286 A certain heroic confidence, and assurance of ultimate success, have often been displayed by those whom providence has raised up to achieve great revolutions in the world; by which they have been borne up under discouragements which would have overwhelmed men of ordinary spirits, and emboldened to face dangers from which others would have shrunk appalled. Knox possessed no inconsiderable portion of that enthusiastic heroism which was so conspicuous in the German reformer. “Satan, I confess, rageth,” says he, in a letter written at this time; “but potent is he that promiseth to be with us, in all such enterprises as we take in hand at his commandment, for the glory of his name, and for maintenance of his true religion. And therefore the less fear we any contrary power; yea, in the boldness of our God, we altogether contemn them, be they kings, emperors, men, angels, or devils. For they shall be never able to prevail against the simple truth of God which we openly profess; by the permission of God they may appear to prevail against our bodies, but our cause shall triumph in despite of Satan.”287

Soon after the above letter had been written, two citizens of Edinburgh, James Syme and James Barron, arrived at Geneva with a letter and credentials, from the earl of Glencairn, and lords Lorn, Erskine, and James Stewart; informing him, that the professors of the reformed doctrine remained steadfast, that its adversaries were daily losing credit in the nation, and that those who possessed the supreme authority, although they had not yet declared themselves friendly to it, continued to refrain from persecution; and inviting him, in their own name, and in that of their brethren, to return to Scotland, where he would find them all ready to receive him, and to spend their lives and fortunes in advancing the cause which they had espoused.288

Knox, at the same time that he laid this letter before his congregation, craved the advice of Calvin and the other ministers of Geneva. They gave it as their opinion, “that he could not refuse the call without showing himself rebellious to God, and unmerciful to his country.” His congregation agreed to sacrifice their particular interest to the greater good of the church; and his own family silently acquiesced. Upon this, he returned an answer to the letter of the nobility, signifying that he meant to visit them with all reasonable expedition. The congregation chose as his successor William Whittingham,289 a learned Englishman, with whom he had been long united by the ties of friendship and congeniality of sentiment. Having settled his other affairs, he took an affectionate leave of his friends at Geneva, and went to Dieppe, in the month of October. But on his arrival there, he received letters from Scotland, written in a very different strain from the former. By these he was informed, that new consultations had been held among the protestants in that country; that some of them began to repent of the invitation which they had given him to return; and that the greater part seemed irresolute and faint‑hearted.

This intelligence exceedingly disconcerted and embarrassed him. He instantly dispatched a letter to the nobility who had invited him, upbraiding them for their timidity and inconstancy. The information which he had just received, had (he said) confounded him, and pierced his heart with sorrow. After taking the advice of the most learned and godly in Europe, to satisfy his own conscience and theirs as to the propriety of this enterprise, the abandonment of it must reflect disgrace either on him or them—it argued either that he had been marvellously forward and vain, or that they had betrayed great imprudence and want of judgment in the invitation which they had given him. To some it might appear a small matter that he had left his poor family destitute of a head, and committed the care of his little but dearly‑beloved flock to another; but, for his part, he could not name the sum that would induce him to go through that scene a second time, and to behold so many grave men weeping at his departure. What answer could he give to those who enquired, why he did not prosecute his journey? He could take God to witness, that the personal inconveniences to which he had been subjected, and the mortification which he felt at the disappointment, were not the chief causes of his grief. He was alarmed at the awful consequences which would ensue—at the bondage and misery, spiritual and temporal, which they would entail on themselves and their children, their subjects and their posterity, if they neglected the present opportunity of introducing the gospel into their native country. In his conscience, he could exempt none that bore the name of nobility in Scotland from blame in this affair. His words might perhaps appear sharp and indiscreet; but charity would construe them in the best sense, and wise men would consider that a true friend cannot flatter, especially in a matter which involves the salvation of the bodies and souls, not of a few persons, but of a whole realm. “What are the sobs, and what is the affliction, of my troubled heart, God shall one day declare. But this will I add to my former rigour and severity; to wit, if any persuade you, for fear or dangers to follow, to faint in your former purpose, be he esteemed never so wise and friendly, let him be judged of you both foolish and your mortal enemy.—I am not ignorant that fearful troubles shall ensue your enterprise, as in my former letters I did signify unto you. But, O! joyful and comfortable are those troubles and adversities which man sustaineth for accomplishment of God’s will revealed in his word. For how terrible soever they appear to the judgment of natural men, yet are they never able to devour nor utterly to consume the sufferers; for the invisible and invincible power of God sustaineth and preserveth, according to his promise, all such as with simplicity do obey him.—No less cause have ye to enter in your former enterprise, than Moses had to go to the presence of Pharaoh; for your subjects, yea, your brethren, are oppressed—their bodies and souls holden in bondage; and God speaketh to your consciences (unless ye be dead with the blind world), that ye ought to hazard your own lives, be it against kings or emperors, for their deliverance. For only for that cause are ye called princes of the people, and receive honour, tribute, and homage at God’s commandment,—not by reason of your birth and progeny (as the most part of men falsely do suppose), but by reason of your office and duty; which is, to vindicate and deliver your subjects and brethren from all violence and oppression, to the uttermost of your power.”290

Having sent off this letter, with others written in the same strain, to Erskine of Dun, Wishart of Pitterow, and some other gentlemen of his acquaintance, he cherished the hope that he would soon receive more favourable accounts from Scotland, and resolved in the meantime to remain in France.291 The reformed doctrine had been early introduced into that kingdom; it had been copiously watered with the blood of martyrs; and all the violence which had been employed by its enemies had not been able to extirpate it, or to prevent its spreading among all ranks. The Parisian protestants were at present smarting under the effects of one of those massacres, which so often disgraced the Roman catholic religion in that country, before as well as after the commencement of the civil wars. Not satisfied with assaulting them when peaceably assembled for worship in a private house, and treating them with great barbarity, their adversaries, in imitation of their pagan predecessors, invented the most diabolical calumnies against them, and circulated the report that they were guilty of abominable practices in their religious assemblies.292 The innocent sufferers had drawn up an apology, in which they vindicated themselves from the atrocious charge; and Knox, having got this translated into English, wrote a preface and additions to it, with the intention of publishing it for the use of his countrymen.293

Having formed an acquaintance with many of the protestants of France, and being able to speak their language, he occasionally preached to them in passing through the country. It seems to have been on this occasion that he preached in the city of Rochelle, and having alluded to his native country in the course of his sermon, told his audience that he expected, within a few years, to preach in the church of St Giles, in Edinburgh.294

It does not appear that there were any protestants in Dieppe when Knox first visited it. But he had now the satisfaction of officiating in a reformed church, recently planted in that town. In the course of the year 1557, a travelling merchant from Geneva, named John Venable, had come to Dieppe, and by his conversation and the circulation of books, imparted the knowledge of the protestant doctrine to some of the inhabitants. At his request, they were visited by Delajonché, pastor at Rouen, who applied to the ministers of Geneva to furnish them with a preacher. They sent André de Sequeran, sieur d’Amont, who, having removed in the course of a few months, was succeeded by Delaporte, one of the pastors of the church of Rouen. Knox having come to Dieppe at this time, was chosen colleague to Delaporte; and under their ministry the Reformation was embraced by some of the principal persons of the town, and among the rest by M. de Bagueville, a descendant of Charles Martel. A surprising change was soon observed on the morals of the inhabitants, which had formerly been very dissolute; and the church at Dieppe continued long in a flourishing condition.295

Being disappointed in his expectation of letters from Scotland, Knox determined to relinquish his journey, and return to Geneva. This resolution does not accord with the usual firmness of our Reformer, and is not sufficiently accounted for in the common histories. The protestant nobles had not retracted their invitation; the discouraging letters which he had received, were written by individuals without any authority from the rest; and if their zeal and courage had begun to flag, his presence was the more necessary to recruit them. From the letters which he wrote to his familiar acquaintance, I am enabled to state the motives by which he was actuated in making this retrograde step. He was perfectly aware that a violent struggle must precede the establishment of the Reformation in his native country; he knew that his presence in Scotland would excite the rage of the clergy, who would make every effort to crush their adversaries, and to maintain the lucrative system of superstition; and he dreaded that civil discord, and tumult, and bloodshed, would ensue. The prospect of these things rushed into his mind, and (regardless of public tranquillity as some have pronounced him to be) staggered his resolution to prosecute an undertaking, which, in his judgment, was not only lawful, but laudable, and necessary. “When,” says he, “I heard such troubles as appeared in that realm, I began to dispute with myself as followeth: ‘Shall Christ, the author of peace, concord, and quietness, be preached where war is proclaimed, sedition engendered, and tumults appear to rise? Shall not his evangel be accused as the cause of all this calamity which is like to follow? What comfort canst thou have to see the one half of the people rise up against the other, yea, to jeopard the one to murder and destroy the other? But, above all, what joy shall it be to thy heart, to behold with thy eyes thy native country betrayed into the hands of strangers, which to no man’s judgment can be avoided; because that those who ought to defend it, and the liberty thereof, are so blind, dull, and obstinate, that they will not see their own destruction?’”296 To “these and more deep cogitations,” which continued to distract his mind for several months after he returned to Geneva, he principally imputed his abandonment of the journey to Scotland. At the same time, he was convinced that they were not sufficient to justify his desisting from an undertaking recommended by so many powerful considerations. “But, alas!” says he, “as the wounded man, be he never so expert in physick or surgery, cannot suddenly mitigate his own pain and dolour, no more can I the fear and grief of my heart, although I am not ignorant of what is to be done. It may also be, that the doubts and cold writing of some brethren did augment my dolour, and somewhat discourage me that before was more nor feeble. But nothing do I so much accuse as myself.” Whatever were the secondary causes of this step, I cannot help again directing the reader’s attention to the wisdom of providence, in throwing impediments in his way, by which his return to Scotland was protracted to a period, before which it might have been injurious, and at which it was calculated to be in the highest degree beneficial, to the great cause that he meant to promote.

In judging of Knox’s influence in advancing the Reformation, we must take into view not only his personal labours, but also the epistolary correspondence which he maintained with his countrymen. By this he instructed them in his absence, communicated his own advice, and that of the learned among whom he resided, upon every difficult case which occurred, and animated them to constancy and perseverance. During his residence at Dieppe, he transmitted to Scotland two long letters, which deserve particular notice. The one, dated on the 1st of December, is directed to the protestants in general; the other, dated on the 17th of that month, is addressed to the nobility. In both of them he prudently avoids any reference to his late disappointment.

In the first letter he strongly inculcates purity of morals, and warns all who professed the reformed religion against those irregularities of life, which were employed to the disparagement of their cause, by two classes of persons;—by the papists, who, although the same vices prevailed in a far higher degree among themselves, represented them as the native fruits of the reformed doctrine;—and by a new sect, who were enemies to superstition, but who had deserted the reformed communion, and were become scarcely less hostile to it than the papists. The principal design of this letter was to put his countrymen on their guard against the arts of this last class of persons and to expose their leading errors.

The persons to whom he referred went under the general name of anabaptists, a sect which sprung up soon after the commencement of the Reformation under Luther, and, breaking out into the greatest excesses, produced violent commotions in different parts of Germany. Being suppressed in the place of its birth, it spread through other countries, and secretly made converts by high pretensions to seriousness and Christian simplicity; the spirit of wild fanaticism, which at first characterised its disciples gradually subsiding after the first effervescence. Extravagancies of a similar kind have not unfrequently accompanied great revolutions; when the minds of men, released from the fetters of implicit obedience, and dazzled by a sudden illumination, have been disposed to fly to the extreme of anarchy and turbulence. Nothing proved more vexatious to the original reformers than this. It was urged by the defenders of the old system as a popular argument against all change. The extravagant opinions and disorderly practices of the new sect, though disowned and opposed by all sober protestants, were artfully imputed to them by their adversaries. And many who had declared themselves friendly to reform, alarmed, or pretending to be alarmed, at this hideous spectre, drew back, and sheltered themselves within the sacred pale of that church, which, notwithstanding her notorious dissensions, errors, and corruption, both in head and members, continued to arrogate to herself exclusively the properties of unity, universality, and perpetual infallibility.

The radical error of this sect, according to the more improved system held by them at the time of which I write, was a fond conceit of a certain ideal spirituality and perfection, by which they considered the Christian church to be essentially distinguished from the Jewish, which was, in their opinion, a mere carnal, secular society. Entertaining this notion, they were naturally led to abridge the rule of faith and manners, by confining themselves almost entirely to the New Testament, and to adopt their other opinions concerning the unlawfulness of infant baptism, of civil magistracy, national churches, oaths, and defensive war. But besides these tenets, the anabaptists were, at this period, generally infected with the Pelagian heresy, and united with the papists in loading the doctrines which the reformers held respecting predestination and grace with the most odious charges.297

Our Reformer had occasion to meet with some of these sectaries both in England and on the continent, and had ascertained their extravagant and dangerous principles. In the year 1553, one of them came to his lodging in London, and, after requiring secrecy, gave him a book, written by one of the party, which he pressed him to read. It contained the following proposition, “God made not the world, nor the wicked creatures in it; but these were made by the devil, who is therefore called the God of this world.” He immediately warned the man against such gross doctrine, and began to explain to him the sense in which the devil is called “the god of this world” in scripture. “Tush for your written word!” replied the enthusiast, “we have as good and as sure a word and veritie that teacheth us this doctrine, as ye have for you and your opinion.”298 Being apprised that persons who had imbibed these opinions were creeping into Scotland, Knox was afraid that they might insidiously instil their poison into the minds of some of his brethren. He refuted their opinion respecting church‑communion, by showing that they required a purity which had never been found in the church, either before or since the completion of the canon of scripture. In opposition to their Pelagian tenets, he gave the following statement of his sentiments: “If there be any thing which God did not predestinate or appoint, then lacked he wisdom and free regimen; or, if any thing was ever done, or yet after shall be done, in heaven or in earth, which he might not have impeded, (if so had been his godly pleasure,) then he is not omnipotent; which three properties, to wit, wisdom, free regimen, and power, denied to be in God, I pray you what rests in his godhead? The wisdom of our God we acknowledge to be such, that it compelleth the very malice of Satan, and the horrible iniquity of such as be drowned in sin, to serve to his glory and to the profit of his elect. His power we believe and confess to be infinite, and such as no creature in heaven or earth is able to resist. And his regimen we acknowledge to be so free, that none of his creatures dare present them in judgment, to reason or demand the question, why hast thou done this or that? But the fountain of this their damnable error, (which is, that in God they can acknowledge no justice except that which their foolish brain is able to comprehend,) at more opportunity, God willing, we shall intreat.”299

He assigns his reasons for warning them so particularly against the seduction of these erroneous teachers. Under the cloak of mortification, and the colour of a godly life, they “supplanted the dignity of Christ,” and “were become enemies to free justification by faith in his blood.” The malice of papists was now visible to all the world; the hypocrisy of mercenary teachers and ungodly professors would soon discover itself; and seldom had open tyranny been able to suppress the true religion, when it had once been earnestly embraced by the body of any nation or province. “But deceivable and false doctrine is a poison and venom, which, once drunken and received, with great difficulty can afterward be purged.” Accordingly, he charged them to “try the spirits” which came to them, and to suffer no man to take the office of preacher upon him of his own accord and without trial, or to assemble the people in secret meetings; else Satan would soon have his emissaries among them, who would “destroy the plantation of our heavenly Father.”300 His admonitions, on this head, were not without effect; and the protestants of Scotland, instead of being distracted with these opinions, remained united in their views, as to doctrine, worship, and discipline.

His letter to the protestant lords breathes an ardent and elevated spirit. Its object was to purify their minds from selfish and worldly principles—to raise, sanctify, and christianize their views, by exhibiting and recommending to them the examples of those great and good men whose characters were delineated, and whose deeds were recorded, in the sacred annals. The glory of God, the advancement of the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the salvation of themselves and their brethren, the emancipation of their country from spiritual and political bondage—these, and not their own honour and aggrandizement, or the revenging of their petty private feuds, were the objects which they ought to keep steadily and solely in view.

In this letter, he also communicates his advice on the delicate question of resistance to supreme rulers. They had consulted him on this subject, and he had submitted it to the judgment of the most learned men on the continent. Soon after they had agreed to the marriage of their young queen to the dauphin of France, the Scots began to be jealous of the designs of the French court against their liberties and independence. Their jealousies increased after the regency was transferred to the queen dowager, who was wholly devoted to the interest of France, and had contrived, under different pretexts, to keep a body of French troops in the kingdom. It was not difficult to excite to resistance the independent and haughty barons of Scotland, accustomed to yield a very limited and precarious obedience even to their native princes. They had lately given a proof of this by their refusal to co‑operate in the war against England, which they considered as undertaken merely for French interests. And, encouraged by this circumstance, the duke of Chastelherault had begun, under the direction of his brother, the archbishop of St Andrews, to intrigue for regaining the authority which he had reluctantly resigned.

Our Reformer displayed his moderation, and the soundness of his principles, by the advice which he gave at this critical period. He did not attempt to inflame the irascible minds of the nobility by aggravating the male‑administration of the queen regent; far less did he advise them to join with the duke, and others who were discontented with the government, and to endeavour in this way to advance their cause. Instead of this, he informed them that it was currently reported on the continent that a rebellion was intended in Scotland; and he solemnly charged all the professors of the protestant religion to avoid accession to it, and to beware of countenancing those who sought to promote their private and worldly ends by disturbing the government. “He did not mean,” he said, “to retract the principle which he had advanced in former letters, nor to deny the lawfulness of inferior magistrates, and the body of a nation, resisting the tyrannical measures of supreme rulers.” He still held, that there was “a great difference between lawful obedience, and a fearful flattering of princes, or an unjust accomplishment of their desires, in things which be required or devised for the destruction of a commonwealth.” The nobility were the hereditary guardians of the national liberties; and there were limits beyond which obedience was not due by subjects. But recourse ought not to be had to resistance, except when matters were tyrannically driven to an extreme. And it was peculiarly incumbent on the protestants of Scotland to be circumspect in all their proceedings, that they might give their adversaries no reason to allege that seditious and rebellious designs were concealed under the cloak of zeal for reforming religion. His advice and solemn charge to them therefore was, that they should continue to yield cheerful obedience to all the lawful commands of the regent, and endeavour, by humble and repeated requests, to procure her favour, and to prevail upon her, if not to promote their cause, at least to protect them from persecution. If she refused to take any steps for reforming religion, it was their duty to provide that the gospel should be preached, and the sacraments administered in purity, to themselves and their brethren. If, while they were endeavouring peaceably to accomplish this, attempts should be made to crush them by violence, he did not think, considering the station which they occupied, that they were bound to look on and see their innocent brethren murdered. On the contrary, it was lawful for them, nay, it was their incumbent duty, to stand up in their defence. But even in this case they ought to protest their readiness to obey the regent in every thing consistent with their fidelity to God, and to avoid all association with the ambitious, the factious, and the turbulent.301

This is a specimen of the correspondence which Knox maintained with the protestant nobility, by which he enlightened their views, aroused their zeal, and restrained their impetuosity, at this important juncture. I shall afterwards have occasion to call the attention of the reader more particularly to his political principles.

Knox returned to Geneva in the beginning of the year 1558. During that year, he was engaged, along with several learned men of his congregation, in making a new translation of the Bible into English; which, from the place where it was composed and first printed, has obtained the name of the Geneva Bible.302 It was at this time also that he published his Letter to the queen regent, and his Appellation and Exhortation; both of which were transmitted to Scotland, and contributed not a little to the spread of the reformed opinions. I have already given an account of the first of these tracts, which was chiefly intended for removing the prejudices of Roman catholics. The last was more immediately designed for instructing and animating the friends of the reformed religion. Addressing himself to the nobility and estates of the kingdom, he shows that the care and reformation of religion belonged to them as civil rulers, and constituted one of the primary duties of their office. This was a dictate of nature as well as revelation; and he would not insist on it, lest he should seem to suppose them “lesse careful over God’s true religion, than were the ethnicks303 over their idolatrie.” Inferior magistrates, within the sphere of their jurisdiction—the nobles and estates of a kingdom, as well as kings and princes, were bound to attend to this high duty. He then addresses himself to the commonalty of Scotland, and points out their duty and interest, with regard to the important controversy in agitation. They were rational creatures, formed after the image of God—they had souls to be saved—they were accountable for their conduct—they were bound to judge of the truth of religion, and to make profession of it, as well as kings, nobles, or bishops. If idolatry was maintained, if the gospel was suppressed, if the blood of the innocent was shed, and if, in these circumstances, they kept silence, and did not exert themselves to prevent such evils, how could they vindicate their conduct?304

But the most singular treatise published this year by Knox, and that which made the greatest noise, was, “The first Blast of the Trumpet against the Monstrous Regiment305 of Women;” in which he attacked, with great vehemence, the practice of admitting females to the government of nations. There is some reason to think that his mind was struck with the incongruity of this practice as early as Mary’s accession to the throne of England.306 This was probably one of the points on which he had conferred with the Swiss divines in 1554.307 That his sentiments respecting it were fixed in 1556, appears from an incidental reference to the subject in one of his familiar letters.308 Influenced, however, by deference to the opinion of others, he refrained for a considerable time from publishing them to the world. But at last, provoked by the tyranny of the queen of England, and wearied out with her increasing cruelties, he applied the trumpet to his mouth, and uttered a terrible blast. “To promote a woman to bear rule, superiority, dominion, or empire, above any realm, nation, or city, is repugnant to nature, contumely to God, a thing most contrarious to his revealed will and approved ordinance, and, finally, it is a subversion of all equity and justice.” Such is the first sentence and principal proposition of the work. The arguments by which he endeavours to establish it are, that nature intended the female sex for subjection, not superiority, to the male, as appears from their infirmities, corporal and mental (excepting always such as God, “by singular privilege, and for certain causes, exempted from the common rank of women”); that the divine law, announced at the creation of the first pair, had expressly assigned to man the dominion over woman, and commanded her to be subject to him; that female government was not permitted among the Jews; that it is contrary to apostolical injunctions; and that it leads to the perversion of government, and other pernicious consequences.

Knox’s theory on this subject was not novel. In support of his opinion, he could appeal to the constitutions of the free states of antiquity, and to the authority of their most celebrated legislators and philosophers.309 In the kingdom of France, females were, by an express law, excluded from succeeding to the crown. Edward VI., some time before his death, had proposed to the privy council the adoption of this law in England; but the motion, not suiting the ambitious views of the duke of Northumberland, was overruled.310 Though his opinion was sanctioned by such high authority, Knox was by no means sanguine in his expectations as to the reception of this performance. He tells us, in the preface, that he laid his account not only with the indignation of those who were interested in the support of the reprobated practice, but also with the disapprobation of such gentle spirits among the learned as would be alarmed at the boldness of the attack. He did not doubt, that he would be called “curious, despiteful, a sower of sedition, and one day perchance be attainted for treason;” but, in uttering a truth of which he was deeply convinced, he was determined to “cover his eyes, and shut his ears,” from these dangers and obloquies. He was not mistaken in his anticipations. It exposed him to the resentment of two queens, during whose reign it was his lot to live; the one his native princess, and the other exerting a sway over Scotland scarcely inferior to that of any of its monarchs. Several of the English exiles approved of his opinion,311 and few of them would have been displeased at seeing it reduced to practice, at the time that the Blast was published. But queen Mary dying soon after it appeared, and her sister Elizabeth succeeding her, they raised a great outcry against it. John Fox wrote a letter to the author, in which he expostulated with him, in a very friendly manner, as to the impropriety of the publication, and the severity of its language. Knox, in his reply, did not excuse his “rude vehemencie and inconsidered affirmations, which may appear rather to proceed from choler than of zeal and reason;” but signified, that he was still persuaded of the principal proposition which he had maintained.312

His original intention was to blow his trumpet thrice, and to publish his name with the last blast, to prevent the odium from falling on any other person. But, finding that it gave offence to many of his brethren, and being desirous to strengthen rather than invalidate the authority of Elizabeth, he relinquished his design of prosecuting the discussion.313 He retained his sentiments to the last, but abstained from any further declaration of them, and from replying to his opponents; although he was provoked by their censures and triumph, and sometimes hinted, in his private letters, that he would break silence, if they did not study greater moderation.

In the course of the following year, an answer to the Blast appeared, under the title of “An Harborow for Faithful Subjects.”314 Though anonymous, like the book to which it was a reply, it was soon declared to be the production of John Aylmer, one of the English refugees on the continent, who had been archdeacon of Stowe, and tutor to Lady Jane Grey. It was not undertaken until the accession of Elizabeth, and was written, as Aylmer’s biographer informs us, “upon a consultation holden among the exiles, the better to obtain the favour of the new queen, and to take off any jealousy she might conceive of them, and of the religion which they professed.”315 Aylmer himself says, that, if the author of the Blast “had not swerved from the particular question to the general,” but had confined himself to the queen who filled the throne when he wrote, “he could have said nothing too much, nor in such wise as to have offended any indifferent man;” and he allows with Knox that Mary’s government was “unnatural, unreasonable, unjust, and unlawful.”316 From these and some other considerations, Knox was induced to express a suspicion, that his opponent had accommodated his doctrine to the times, and courted the favour of the reigning princess, by flattering her vanity and love of power.317 It is certain, that, if Knox is entitled to the praise of boldness and disinterestedness, Aylmer carried away the palm for prudence; the latter was advanced to the bishopric of London, the former could not, without great difficulty, obtain leave to set his foot again upon English ground. Knox’s Trumpet would never have sounded its alarm, had it not been for the tyranny of Mary, and there is reason to think that Aylmer would never have opened his “Harborow for faithful subjects,” but for the auspicious succession of Elizabeth.

This, however, is independent of the merits of the question, which I do not feel inclined to examine minutely. The change which has taken place in the mode of administering government in modern times, renders it of less practical importance than it was formerly, when so much depended upon the personal talents and activity of the reigning prince. It may be added, that the evils incident to a female reign will be less felt under such a constitution as that of Britain, than under a pure and absolute monarchy. This last consideration is urged by Aylmer; and here his reasoning is most satisfactory.318 The Blast bears the marks of hasty composition.319 The Harborow has evidently been written with great care; it contains a good collection of historical facts bearing on the question; and, though more distinguished for rhetorical exaggeration than logical precision, the reasoning is ingeniously conducted, and occasionally enlivened by strokes of humour.320 It is, upon the whole, a curious as well as rare work.

After all, it is easier to vindicate the expediency of continuing the practice, where it has been established by law and usage, than to support the affirmative, when the question is propounded as a general thesis on government. It may fairly be questioned, if Aylmer has refuted the principal arguments of his opponent; and had Knox deemed it prudent to rejoin, he might have exposed the fallacy of his reasoning in different instances. In replying to the argument from the apostolical canon,321 the archdeacon is not a little puzzled. Distrusting his distinction between the greater office, “the ecclesiastical function,” and the less, “extern policy,” he argues, that the apostle’s prohibition may be considered as temporary, and peculiarly applicable to the women of his own time; and he insists that his clients shall not, in toto, be excluded from teaching and ruling in the church, any more than in the state. “Me thinke,” says he, very seriously, “even in this poynte, we must use επιεικια, a certain moderacion, not absolutely, and in every wise to debar them herein (as it shall please God) to serve Christ. Are there not, in England, women, think you, that for their learninge and wisdom, could tell their householde and neighbouris as good a tale as the best Sir Jhone there?”322 Beyond all question. Who can doubt that the learned Lady Elizabeth, who on a certain time interrupted the dean of her chapel, and told him to “stick to his text,” was able to make as good a sermon as any of her clergy? or, that she was better qualified for other parts of the duty, when she composed a book of prayers for herself, while they were obliged to use one made to their hands? In fact, the view which the archdeacon gave of the text was necessary to vindicate the authority of his queen, who was head, or supreme governor, of the church, as well as of the state. She who, by law, had supreme authority over all the reverend and right reverend divines in the land, with power to superintend, suspend, and control them in all their ecclesiastical functions—who, by her injunctions, could direct the primate himself when to preach, and how to preach—and who could license and silence ministers at her pleasure, must have been bound very moderately indeed by the apostolical prohibition, “I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.” Reason would also say, that she had an equal right to assume the exercise of the office in her own person, if she chose to avail herself of that right; and had she issued a congé d’élire, accompanied with her royal recommendation to elect some learned sister to a vacant see, the archdeacon at least would not have felt so squeamish at complying with it, as the Italian university did at conferring the degree of Doctor in Divinity upon the learned Helen Lucrecia Piscopia Cornaca.323

There are some things in the Harborow which might have been unpalatable to the queen, if the author had not sweetened them with that personal flattery, which was as agreeable to Elizabeth as to others of her sex and rank, and which he took care to administer in sufficient quantities before concluding his work. The ladies will be ready to excuse a slight slip of the pen in the good archdeacon, in consideration of the handsome manner in which he has defended their right to rule; but they will scarcely believe that the following description of the sex could proceed from him. “Some women,” says he, “be wiser, better learned, discreater, constanter, than a number of men;” but others (“the most part,” according to his biographer) he describes324 as “fond, foolish, wanton, flibbergibs, tatlers, trifling, wavering, witles, without counsel, feable, carles, rashe, proud, daintie, nise, tale‑bearers, eves‑droppers, rumour‑raisers, evil‑tongued, worse‑minded, and, in every wise, doltified with the dregges of the devil’s doungehill!!!” The rude author of the monstrous Blast never spoke of the sex in terms half so disrespectful as these. One would suppose that Aylmer had already renounced the character of advocate of the fair sex, and recanted his principles on that head, as he did respecting the titles and revenues of bishops, which he inveighed against before his return from exile, but afterwards accepted with little scruple; and, when reminded of the language which he had formerly used, apologized for himself by saying, “When I was a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man I put away childish things.”325—But it is time to return to the narrative.

Our Reformer’s letter to the protestant lords in Scotland produced its intended effect, in reanimating their drooping courage. At a consultative meeting, held at Edinburgh in December 1557, they unanimously resolved to adhere to one another, and exert themselves in advancing the Reformation. Having subscribed a solemn bond of mutual assurance, they renewed their invitation to Knox; and being afraid that he might hesitate on account of their former irresolution, they wrote to Calvin, to employ his influence to induce him to comply. Their letters did not reach Geneva until November 1558.326 By the same conveyance, Knox received letters of a later date, communicating the most agreeable intelligence respecting the progress which the reformed cause had made, and the flourishing appearance which it continued to wear, in Scotland.

Through the exertions of our Reformer, during his residence among them in the year 1556, and in pursuance of the instructions which he left behind him, the protestants had formed themselves into congregations, which met in different parts of the country with greater or less privacy, according to the opportunities which they enjoyed. Having come to the resolution of withdrawing from the popish worship, they provided for their religious instruction and mutual edification in the best manner that their circumstances would permit. As there were no ministers among them, they continued for some time to be deprived of the dispensation of the sacraments;327 but certain intelligent and pious men of their number were chosen to read the scriptures, to exhort, and offer up prayers in their assemblies. Convinced of the necessity of order and discipline in their societies, and desirous to have them organized, as far as was in their power, agreeably to the institution of Christ, they next proceeded to choose elders for the inspection of their manners, to whom they promised subjection, and deacons for the collection and distribution of alms to the poor.328 Edinburgh was the first place in which this order was established: Dundee the first town in which a reformed church was completely organized, provided with a regular minister, and favoured with the dispensation of the sacraments.

During the war with England, which began in autumn 1556, and continued through the following year, the protestants enjoyed considerable liberty; and they improved it with great zeal and success. The clergy were not indifferent to the progress which the reformed opinions were daily making, and they prevailed with the regent to summon such as had presumed to preach without their authority; but she was obliged to abandon the process against them, in consequence of the arrival of certain gentlemen from the west country, who demanded their release in a tone which declared that they were resolved not to be refused.329

At a meeting of the nobles and barons attached to the Reformation, held at Edinburgh in December 1557, two resolutions were adopted for regulating their conduct in the present delicate juncture. It was agreed, in the first place, that they should rest satisfied for the present with requiring that prayers, and the lessons of the Old and New Testament, should be read in English, according to the book of Common Prayer,330 in every parish, on Sundays and festival days, by the curates of the respective parishes, or, if they were unable or unwilling, by such persons within the bounds as were best qualified. And, secondly, that the reformed preachers should teach in private houses only, till the government should allow them to preach in public.331 The first resolution has been represented as an unwarrantable assumption of authority by this reforming assembly, and as implying that they had a right to dictate to the whole nation, by setting aside the established worship, and imposing a new form. This construction is, however, irreconcilable with the situation in which they were then placed, and with the moderate and submissive tone in which they continued to urge their claims at a subsequent period. It is rather to be viewed as expressing the opinion of that meeting respecting the degree of reformation which individuals of their body might introduce, in places to which their authority and influence extended. And, accordingly, it was reduced to practice in many parishes where protestant barons resided, and where the people were disposed to imitate their example.332

In pursuance of the second resolution agreed on at the general meeting, the earl of Argyle undertook the protection of John Douglas, a carmelite friar, who had embraced the reformed sentiments;333 and the rest of the preachers were received into the houses of other barons, and employed to preach as their chaplains. This measure alarmed the clergy no less than the former practice of itinerant preaching had done. They saw that it would be vain to commence prosecutions against preachers who were entertained in the families of the principal men in the kingdom; and they resolved to exert all their influence to deprive them of such powerful patronage. Presuming upon the easy temper of the aged earl of Argyle, and upon the friendship which had long subsisted between his family and the Hamiltons, the archbishop of St Andrews wrote a letter to that nobleman in a very insinuating strain, and at the same time sent a relation of his own, Sir David Hamilton, with instructions to represent the danger to which he exposed his noble house by countenancing Douglas, and to intreat him, in the most earnest manner, to withdraw his protection from such a pestilent heretic. Argyle’s reply was temperate and respectful, but at the same time firm and spirited: he not only vindicated the doctrine taught by his chaplain, and refused to dismiss him, but made several shrewd and pointed remarks which the archbishop could not fail to apply to himself. The bishop having written that he felt himself bound “in honour and conscience” to enquire into the heresies of which Douglas was accused, the earl replies: “He preiches against idolatrie, I remit to your lordschip’s conscience gif it be heresie or not; he preiches against adulterie and fornicatioun, I referre that to your lordschip’s conscience;334 he preiches against hypocrisie, I referre that to your lordschip’s conscience; he preiches against all maner of abuses and corruptioun of Christis sincere religioun, I referre that to your lordschip’s conscience. My lord, I exhort yow, in Christis name, to wey all thir affairis in your conscience, and considder if it be your dewtie also not onlie to thole335 this, bot in like maner to do the same. This is all, my lord, that I varie in my age, and na uther thing bot that I knew not befoir these offences to be abhominable to God, and now, knawing his will by manifestatioun of his word, abhorres thame.” Referring to the bishop’s offer to send him a learned and catholic teacher, the earl replies, “God Almichtie send us mony of that sorte, that will preiche trewlie, and nathing but ane catholic universall christian fayth; and we Hieland rude pepill hes mister336 of thame. And if your lordschip wald get and provyde me sic a man, I sould provyde him a corporal leving as to my self, with grit thanks to your lordschip; for trewlie, I and many ma hes grit mister of sic men. And becaus I am abill to sustain ma nor ane of thame, I will requeist your lordschip earnestlie to provyde me sic a man as ye wrait; for the harvest is grit, and thair ar few labouraris.”337

Foiled in his attempts to prevail on the nobility to withdraw their protection from the preachers, the archbishop determined to wreak his vengeance upon such of them as were still within his power, and proceeded to revive those cruel measures which had been suspended for several years, by the political circumstances of the country rather than by the clemency and moderation of the clergy. Walter Mill, parish‑priest of Lunan in Angus, having been condemned as a heretic in the time of cardinal Beatoun, had escaped from execution, and continued to preach, sometimes in private, and at other times openly, in different quarters of the kingdom. Being lately discovered by one of the archbishop’s spies, he was brought to trial at St Andrews. He appeared before the court so worn out with age, and the hardships which he had endured, that it was not expected he would be able to answer the questions which might be put to him; but, to the surprise of all, he conducted his defence with great spirit. Such was the compassion excited by his appearance, and the horror which was now felt at the punishment to which he was doomed, that the clergy, after pronouncing him guilty, could not procure a secular judge to pass sentence of death upon him, and the archbishop was at last obliged to employ a worthless servant of his own to perform the odious task. On the 28th of August 1558, Mill expired amidst the flames, uttering these words: “As for me, I am fourscore and two years old, and cannot live long by course of nature; but a hundred better shall rise out of the ashes of my bones. I trust in God, I shall be the last that shall suffer death in Scotland for this cause!”338

This barbarous and illegal execution produced effects of the greatest importance. It raised the horror of the nation to an incredible pitch; and as it was believed, at that time, that the regent was not accessory to the deed, their indignation was directed wholly against the clergy. Throwing aside all fear, and disregarding those restraints which prudence, or respect for established order, had hitherto imposed on them, the people now assembled openly to join in the reformed worship, and avowed their determination to adhere to it at all hazards. Harlow, Douglas, Paul Methven, and some others, were emboldened to break through the regulations to which they had submitted, and began to preach, and administer the sacraments, with greater publicity than formerly.339 In the month of October,340 they were joined by John Willock, who returned a second time from Embden.

Meanwhile, the protestant barons, having assembled at Edinburgh in the month of July,341 had resolved to lay their complaints in a formal manner before the regent. They renewed the request which they had formerly made, that she would, by her authority, and in concurrence with the parliament, restrain the violence of the clergy, correct the flagrant and insufferable abuses which prevailed in the church, and grant to them and their brethren the liberty of religious instruction and worship, at least according to a restricted plan which they laid before her, and to which they were willing to submit, till their grievances should be deliberately examined and legally redressed.342 Their petition was presented to the regent, in the palace of Holyroodhouse, by Sir James Sandilands of Calder, in the presence of a number of the nobility and bishops. Her reply was such as to persuade them that she was friendly to their proposals; she promised, that she would take measures for carrying them legally into effect, as soon as it was in her power, and assured them, that, in the meantime, they might depend on her protection.343

It did not require many arguments to persuade Knox to comply with an invitation, which was accompanied with such gratifying intelligence; and he began immediately to prepare for his journey to Scotland. The future settlement of the congregation under his charge, occupied him for some time. Information being received of the death of Mary, queen of England,344 and the accession of Elizabeth, the protestant refugees hastened to return to their native country. The congregation at Geneva, having met to return thanks to God for this deliverance, agreed to send one of their number with letters to their brethren in different places of the continent, and particularly in Frankfort, congratulating them on the late happy change, and requesting a confirmation of the mutual reconciliation which had already been effected, the burial of all past offences, and a brotherly co‑operation, in endeavouring to obtain such a settlement of religion in England as would be agreeable to all the sincere well‑wishers of the Reformation. A favourable return to their letters being obtained,345 they took leave of the hospitable city, and set out for their native country. By them Knox sent letters to some of his former acquaintances, who were now in the court of Elizabeth, requesting permission to travel through England on his way to Scotland.

In the month of January 1559, our Reformer took his leave of Geneva for the last time.346 In addition to former marks of respect, the republic, before his departure, conferred on him the freedom of the city.347 He left his wife and family behind him, until he should ascertain that they could live with safety in Scotland. Upon his arrival at Dieppe, in the middle of March, he received information that the English government had refused to grant him liberty to pass through their dominions. The request had appeared so reasonable to his own mind, considering the station which he had held in that country, and the object of his present journey, that he once thought of proceeding to London without waiting for a formal permission; yet it was with some difficulty that those who presented his letters escaped imprisonment.348

This impolitic severity was occasioned by the informations of some of the exiles, who had not forgotten the old quarrel at Frankfort, and had accused of disloyalty and disaffection to the queen, not only Knox, but all those who had been under his charge at Geneva, whom they represented as proselytes to the opinion which he had published against female government.349 There was not an individual who could believe that Knox had the most distant eye to Elizabeth in publishing the obnoxious book; nor a person of judgment who could seriously think that her government was exposed to the slightest danger from him or his associates, who felt no less joy at her auspicious accession than their brethren.350 If he had been imprudent in that publication, if he had “swerved from the particular question to the general,” his error (to use the words of his respondent) “rose not of malice, but of zeal, and by looking more to the present cruelty, than to the inconveniences that after might follow;” and it was the part of generosity and of good policy to overlook the fault. Instead of this, Elizabeth and her counsellors took up the charge in a serious light; and the accused were treated with such harshness and disdain, that they repented of leaving their late asylum to return to their native country. One cannot help feeling indignant at this weak revenge, when it is considered that Elizabeth had admitted to favour, and retained at court, persons who had endeavoured to prevent her succession, and who had thirsted for her blood;351 and that those who, under the preceding reign, had advised and practised the greatest severities against the protestants, were now treated with the utmost lenity. Even the infamous Bonner was allowed to appear at court, and, although the queen shuddered at the thought of a man who was polluted with so much blood kissing her hand, yet was he at this time going about London without the smallest molestation.352 In the first parliament of Elizabeth, one Dr Story made a speech, in which he had the effrontery to justify the cruelties of Mary, to boast of his own activity in carrying her orders into execution, and to regret that measures still more violent and effectual had not been adopted for the utter extirpation of heresy.353 Nor does it appear that this speech was resented either by the house or by the queen.

The refusal of his request, and the harsh treatment of his flock, touched to the quick the irritable temper of our Reformer; and it was with some difficulty that he suppressed the desire which he felt rising in his breast, to prosecute a controversy which he had resolved to abandon. “My first Blast,” says he, in a letter, dated Dieppe, 6th April 1559, “hath blown from me all my friends in England. My conscience bears record, that yet I seek the favour of my God; and so I am in the less fear. The second Blast, I fear, shall sound somewhat more sharp, except that men be more moderate than I hear they are.—England hath refused me; but because, before, it did refuse Christ Jesus, the less do I regard the loss of this familiarity. And yet have I been a secret and assured friend to thee, O England, in cases which thyself could not have remedied.”354 But greater designs occupied his mind, and engrossed his attention. It was not for the sake of personal safety, nor from the vanity of appearing at court, that he desired to pass through England. He felt the natural wish to visit his old acquaintance in that country, and was anxious for an opportunity of once more addressing those to whom he had preached, especially at Newcastle and Berwick. But there was another object which he had still more at heart, and in which the welfare of both England and Scotland were concerned.

Notwithstanding the flattering accounts which he had received of the favourable disposition of the queen regent towards the protestants, and the directions which he sent them to cultivate this, he appears to have always entertained suspicions of the sincerity of her professions. Since he left Geneva, these suspicions had been confirmed; and the information which he had procured, in travelling through France, conspired with intelligence which he had lately received from Scotland, to convince him, that the immediate suppression of the Reformation in his native country, and its consequent suppression in the neighbouring kingdom, were intended. The plan projected by the gigantic ambition of the princes of Lorrain, brothers of the queen regent of Scotland, has been developed, and described with great accuracy and ability, by a celebrated modern historian.355 Suffice it to say here, that their counsels had determined the French court to set up the claim of the young queen of Scots to the crown of England; to attack Elizabeth, and wrest the sceptre from her hands, under the pretext that she was a bastard and a heretic; and to commence their operations by suppressing the Reformation, and establishing the French influence, in Scotland, as the best preparative to an attack upon the dominions of the English queen. In the course of his journeys through France, Knox had formed an acquaintance with certain persons about the court, and, by their means, had gained some knowledge of this plan.356 He was convinced that the Scottish reformers were unable to resist the power which France might bring against them; and that it was no less the interest than the duty of the English court to afford them the most effectual support. But he was afraid that a selfish and narrow policy might prevent them from doing this until it was too late, and was therefore anxious to call their attention to the subject at an early period, and to put them in possession of the facts that had come to his knowledge. The assistance which Elizabeth granted to the Scottish protestants in the year 1560, was dictated by the soundest policy. It baffled and defeated the designs of her enemies at the very outset; it gave her an influence over Scotland, which all her predecessors could not obtain by the terror of their arms, nor the influence of their money; and it secured the stability of her government, by extending and strengthening the protestant interest, the principal pillar on which it rested. And it reflects not a little credit on our Reformer’s sagacity, that he had conceived this plan at so early a period, was the first person who proposed it, and persisted, in spite of great discouragements, to urge its adoption, until his endeavours were ultimately crowned with success.

Deeply impressed with these considerations, he resolved, although he had already been twice repulsed, to brook the mortification, and make another attempt to obtain an interview with some confidential agent of the English government. With this view, he, on the 10th of April, wrote a letter to secretary Cecil, with whom he had been personally acquainted during his residence in London. Adverting to the treatment of the exiles who had returned from Geneva, he exculpated them from all responsibility as to the offensive book which he had published, and assured him that he had not consulted with any of them previous to its publication. As for himself, he did not mean to deny that he was the author, nor was he yet prepared to retract the leading sentiment which it contained. But he was not, on that account, less friendly to the person and government of Elizabeth, in whose exaltation he cordially rejoiced; although he rested the defence of her authority upon grounds different from the common. This was the third time that he had craved liberty to pass through England. He had no desire to visit the court, nor to remain long in the country; but he was anxious to communicate to him, or some other trusty person, matters of great importance, which it was not prudent to commit to writing, or intrust to an ordinary messenger. If his request was refused, it would turn out to the disadvantage of England.357

The situation in which he stood at this time with the court of England was so well known, that it was not without great difficulty that he could find a messenger to carry his letter;358 and, either despairing of the success of his application, or urged by intelligence received from Scotland, he sailed from Dieppe on the 22d of April, and landed safely at Leith on the 2d of May, 1559.359

PERIOD VI.

FROM MAY 1559, WHEN HE FINALLY RETURNED TO SCOTLAND, TO AUGUST 1560, WHEN HE WAS SETTLED AS MINISTER OF EDINBURGH, AT THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE REFORMATION.

On his arrival, Knox found matters in the most critical state in Scotland. The queen regent had thrown off the mask which she had long worn, and avowed her determination forcibly to suppress the Reformation. As long as she stood in need of the assistance of the protestants, to support her authority against the Hamiltons, and to procure the matrimonial crown for her son‑in‑law, the dauphin of France, she courted their friendship, listened to their plans of reform, professed her dissatisfaction with the ecclesiastical order, and her desire of correcting its corruption and tyranny as soon as a fit opportunity offered, and flattered them, if not with the hopes of her joining their party, at least with assurances that she would shield them from the fury of the clergy. So completely were they duped by her consummate address and dissimulation, that they complied with all her requests, restrained their preachers from teaching in public, and desisted from presenting to the parliament a petition which they had prepared; nor would they believe her to be insincere, even after different parts of her conduct had afforded strong grounds for suspicion. But, having accomplished the great objects which she had in view, she at last adopted measures which completely undeceived them, and discovered the gulf into which they were about to be precipitated.

As this discovery of the regent’s duplicity produced consequences of the greatest importance; as it completely alienated from her the minds of the reformers, and aroused that spirit of determined and united opposition to her insidious policy, and her violent measures, which ultimately led to the establishment of the Reformation; and as the facts connected with it have not been accurately or fully stated in our common histories,360 the reader may not be displeased at having the following more circumstantial detail laid before him.

A mutual jealousy had long subsisted between the queen regent and that able but unprincipled prelate, archbishop Hamilton, whose zeal for the church was uniformly subordinated to personal ambition, and the desire of aggrandizing his family. While he exerted the influence which his station gave him over the clergy to embarrass the administration of the regent, she employed the protestants as a counter‑balance to his power. But amidst the jarring excited by rival interests, both parties beheld the rapid progress of the reformed sentiments with equal concern; and intelligent persons early foresaw, that their differences would finally be compromised, and a coalition formed between them to accomplish the ruin of the protestants.361 It does not appear that the primate ever entertained the slightest suspicion that the regent was friendly to the cause of the reformers. Independently of her own sentiments, he was well acquainted with the influence which her brothers possessed over her, and with their devoted attachment to the Roman catholic church. Had he not had good reasons for presuming upon her connivance and secret approbation, his known prudence would not have allowed him to venture upon the invidious measure of putting Mill to death. As early as July 1558, she had held consultations with him on the course which should be adopted for checking the Reformation.362 In consequence of these, steps were taken to bring to trial certain individuals who had given great offence to the clergy by expounding the scriptures in private meetings, and contemning the laws of the church.363 And immediately after the meeting of parliament in November, at which the regent obtained, by the assistance of the protestants, all the objects which she wished to carry, the primate received positive assurances of her support in his exertions for maintaining the authority of the church. Accordingly, in the end of December, he summoned the reformed preachers to appear before him in St Andrews, on the 2d of February following, to answer for their conduct in usurping the sacred office, and disseminating heretical doctrines.364

Upon this, a deputation of the protestants waited on the regent, and informed her, that, after what had recently taken place in the instance of Mill, they were determined to attend and see justice done to their preachers; and that, if the prosecution went forward, there would be a greater convocation at St Andrews than had been seen at any trial in Scotland for a long period. Dreading the consequences of a concourse of people in a place adjacent to counties in which the protestants were numerous, the queen wrote to the archbishop to prorogue the trial. She, at the same time, summoned a convention of the nobility, to be held at Edinburgh on the 7th of March, to advise upon the most proper measures for settling the religious differences which had so long agitated the nation.365 And the primate, at her request, called a provincial council of the clergy to meet in the same place on the first of March.366

When our Saviour was condemned to be crucified, it was observed, that, “on the same day, Pilate and Herod were made friends together, for before they were at enmity between themselves.” The determination which was at this time formed to crush the protestant interest in Scotland, seems to have brought about the reconciliation of more than the queen regent and the primate. A rivalship had long subsisted between those who occupied the two Scottish archbishoprics; the bishops of Glasgow insisting on the independence of their see, and boasting of the priority of its erection, while the bishops of St Andrews claimed an authoritative primacy over all the clergy in the kingdom, as belonging to that see from the time of its foundation.367 Hamilton, in the mandate issued for assembling this council, had asserted his primacy in very formal terms, founding upon it, as well as upon the authority with which he was invested as papal legate, his right to convocate the clergy.368 Beatoun, archbishop of Glasgow, seems to have resented this claim of superiority, and declined for some time to countenance the council by his presence, or to cite his suffragans and the clergy of his diocese to attend. This dissension, which might have proved highly injurious to the Roman church at this critical period, was got accommodated, and Beatoun, with the western clergy, at length joined the council.369

In the mean time, the protestants, having assembled at Edinburgh, appointed commissioners to lay their representations before the convention of the nobility, and the council of the clergy.370 The commissioners gave in to the latter certain preliminary articles of reformation, in which they craved, that the religious service should be performed in the vulgar tongue; that such as were unfit for the pastoral office should be removed from their benefices; that, in time coming, bishops should be admitted with the assent of the barons of the diocese, and parish‑priests with the assent of the parishioners; and that measures should be adopted for preventing immoral and ignorant persons from being employed in ecclesiastical functions.371 But there was another paper laid before the council, which, it is probable, gave them more uneasiness than the representation of the protestants. This was a remonstrance by certain persons attached to the Roman catholic faith, “craving redress of several grievances complained of in the ecclesiastical administration of Scotland.” It consisted of thirteen articles, in which, among other points of reformation, they required that the exacting of corpse‑presents and Easter offerings should be abolished; that, for the more effectual instruction of those who partake of the sacraments, “there should be an godlie and faithful declaration set forth in Inglis toung, to be first shewin to the pepil at all times,” when any of the sacraments are administered; and that the common prayers and litanies should also be read in the vulgar language. At the same time, they desired that none should be permitted to speak irreverently of the mass, make innovations upon the ceremonies of the church, or administer divine ordinances without authority from the bishops.372

The council were not disposed to agree to the proposals either of the protestant or the popish reformers. After making certain partial regulations relating to some of the grievances complained of by the latter,373 and renewing the canons of former councils respecting the lives of the clergy and public instruction,374 they refused to allow any part of the public service to be performed in the vulgar language;375 they ratified in the strongest terms all the popish doctrines which were controverted by the protestants;376 and they ordained, that strict inquisition should be made after such as absented themselves from the celebration of mass,377 and that excommunications should be fulminated against those who administered or received the sacraments after the protestant forms, and against parents and sponsors who had presented children for baptism to the reformed preachers, and did not bring them to the priests to be re‑baptized.378

The council were emboldened to take these decisive steps in consequence of a secret treaty which they had concluded with the regent, and in which they had stipulated to raise a large sum of money to enable her to suppress the reformers.379 This arrangement could not be long concealed from the protestant deputies, who, perceiving that they were mocked by the clergy, and abandoned by the court, broke off the fruitless negotiations in which they had been engaged, and left Edinburgh. They were no sooner gone than a proclamation was made at the market cross, by order of the regent, prohibiting any person from preaching or administering the sacraments without authority from the bishops, and commanding all the subjects to prepare to celebrate the ensuing feast of Easter, according to the rites of the catholic church. Understanding that her proclamation was disregarded, she determined on taking decisive steps to enforce obedience, by bringing the preachers to justice.380 Accordingly, Paul Methven, John Christison, William Harlow, and John Willock, were summoned to stand trial before the justiciary court at Stirling, on the 10th of May, for usurping the ministerial office, for administering, without the consent of their ordinaries, the sacrament of the altar in a manner different from that of the catholic church, during three several days of the late feast of Easter, in the burghs and boundaries of Dundee, Montrose, and various other places in the sheriffdoms of Forfar and Kincardine, and for convening the subjects in these places, preaching to them, seducing them to their erroneous doctrines, and exciting seditions and tumults. As the preachers were resolved to make their appearance, George Lovell, burgess of Dundee, became surety for Methven, John Erskine of Dun for Christison, Patrick Murray of Tibbermuir for Harlaw, and Robert Campbell of Kinyeancleugh for Willock.381

To prevent matters from coming to extremity, the earl of Glencairn, and Sir Hugh Campbell of Loudon, sheriff of Ayr, waited on the queen, and remonstrated against these proceedings; but she told them haughtily, that, “in spite of them, all their preachers should be banished from Scotland.” They reminded her of the promises she had repeatedly made to protect them; upon which she unblushingly replied, that “it became not subjects to burden their princes with promises, farther than they pleased to keep them.” Surprised, but not intimidated, at this language, Glencairn and Loudon told her, that, if she violated the engagements which she had come under to her subjects, they would consider themselves as absolved from their allegiance to her. After they had remonstrated with her very freely, and pointed out the dangerous consequences that might result from adopting such a line of conduct, she began to speak in a milder tone, and promised to suspend the trial of the preachers, and take the whole affair into serious consideration382 But receiving intelligence soon after that peace was concluded between France and Spain, by a treaty in which these two powers had agreed to unite their endeavours for the extirpation of heresy, and being irritated by the introduction of the reformed worship into the town of Perth, she ordered the process against the preachers to go on, and summoned them peremptorily to stand their trial at Stirling on the appointed day.383

The state of our Reformer’s mind, upon receiving this information, will appear from the following letter, hastily written by him on the day after he landed in Scotland.

“The perpetual comfort of the Holy Ghost for salutation. These few lines are to signify unto you, dear sister, that it hath pleased the merciful providence of my heavenly father to conduct me to Edinburgh, where I arrived the 2d of May: uncertain as yet what God shall further work in this country, except that I see the battle shall be great. For Satan rageth even to the uttermost, and I am come, I praise my God, even in the brunt of the battle. For my fellow preachers have a day appointed to answer before the queen regent, the 10th of this instant, when I intend (if God impede not) also to be present; by life, by death, or else by both, to glorify his godly name, who thus mercifully hath heard my long cries. Assist me, sister, with your prayers, that now I shrink not, when the battle approacheth. Other things I have to communicate with you, but travel after travel doth so occupy me, that no time is granted me to write. Advertise my brother, Mr Goodman, of my estate; as, in my other letter sent unto you from Dieppe, I willed you. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ rest with you. From Edinburgh, in haste, the 3d of May.”384

His arrival in Scotland was not long concealed from the clergy. On the morning after he landed at Leith, one came to the monastery of the Greyfriars, where the provincial council was still sitting,385 and informed them that John Knox was come from France, and had slept last night in Edinburgh. The clergy were panic‑struck with the intelligence, and foreboding the ruin of all the plans which they had formed with so much care, they dismissed the council in great haste and confusion. A messenger was instantly dispatched by them with the information to the queen regent, who was at Glasgow; and within a few days Knox was proclaimed an outlaw and a rebel, in virtue of the sentence formerly pronounced against him by the clergy.386

Although his own cause was prejudged, and he knew that he was liable to be apprehended as a condemned heretic, he did not hesitate a moment in resolving to present himself voluntarily at Stirling, to assist his brethren in their defence, and share their danger. Having remained only a single day at Edinburgh, he hurried to Dundee, where he found the principal protestants in Angus and Mearns already assembled, and determined to attend their ministers to the place of trial, and avow their adherence to the doctrines for which they were accused. The providential arrival of such an able champion of the cause, at this crisis, must have been very encouraging to the assembly; and the liberty of accompanying them, which he requested, was readily granted.

Lest the unexpected approach of such a multitude, though unarmed, should alarm or offend the regent, the assembled protestants agreed to stop at Perth, and sent Erskine of Dun before them to Stirling, to acquaint her with the peaceable object and manner of their coming. Apprehensive that their presence would disconcert her measures, the regent had again recourse to dissimulation. She persuaded Erskine to write to his brethren to desist from their intended journey, and authorized him to promise, in her name, that she would put a stop to the trial. The protestants testified their pacific intentions by a cheerful compliance with this request, and the greater part, confiding in the royal promise, returned to their homes. But when the day of trial came, the summons was called by the orders of the queen, the preachers were outlawed for not appearing, and all persons were prohibited, under the pain of rebellion, from harbouring or assisting them.387 At the same time, the gentlemen who had given security for their appearance, were fined.388

Escaping from Stirling, Erskine brought to Perth the intelligence of this disgraceful transaction, which could not fail to incense the protestants. It happened that, on the same day on which the news came, Knox, who remained at Perth, preached a sermon, in which he exposed the idolatry of the mass, and of image‑worship. The audience had quietly dismissed, and a few idle persons only loitered in the church, when an imprudent priest, wishing to try the disposition of the people, or to show his contempt of the doctrine which had just been delivered, uncovered a rich altar‑piece, decorated with images, and prepared to celebrate mass. A boy, having uttered some expressions of disapprobation, was struck by the priest. He retaliated by throwing a stone at the aggressor, which, falling on the altar, broke one of the images. This operated as a signal upon the people present, who had sympathized with the boy; and, in the course of a few minutes, the altar, images, and all the ornaments of the church, were torn down, and trampled under foot. The noise soon collected a mob, which, finding no employment in the church, flew, by a sudden and irresistible impulse, upon the monasteries; and although the magistrates of the town and the preachers assembled as soon as they heard of the riot, yet neither the persuasions of the one, nor the authority of the other, could restrain the fury of the people, until the houses of the grey and black friars, with the costly edifice of the Carthusian monks, were laid in ruins. None of the gentlemen or sober part of the congregation were concerned in this unpremeditated tumult; it was wholly confined to the lowest of the inhabitants, or, as Knox designs them, “the rascal multitude.”389

The demolition of the monasteries having been represented as the first‑fruits of our Reformer’s labours on this occasion, it was necessary to give this minute account of the causes which produced that event. Whatever his sentiments were as to the destruction of the instruments and monuments of idolatry, he did not wish the work to be accomplished in an irregular manner; he was sensible that tumultuary proceedings, especially in present circumstances, were prejudicial to the cause of the reformers; and, instead of instigating, he exerted himself in putting a stop to, the ravages of the mob. If this disorderly conduct must be traced to a remote cause, we can impute it only to the wanton and dishonourable perfidy of the queen regent.

In fact, nothing could be more favourable to the designs of the regent than this riot. By her recent conduct, she had forfeited the confidence of the protestants, and even exposed herself in the eyes of the sober and moderate of her own party. This occurrence afforded her an opportunity of turning the public indignation from herself, and directing it against the protestants. She did not fail to improve it with her usual address. She magnified the accidental tumult into a dangerous and designed rebellion. Having called the nobility to Stirling, she, in her interviews with them, insisted upon such topics as were best calculated to persuade the parties into which they were divided. In conversing with the catholics, she dwelt upon the sacrilegious overthrow of those venerable structures which their ancestors had dedicated to the service of God. To the protestants who had not joined their brethren at Perth, she complained of the destruction of the Charter‑house, which was a royal foundation; and, protesting that she had no intention of offering violence to their consciences, promised to protect them, provided they would assist her in punishing those who had been guilty of this violation of public order.390 Having inflamed the minds of both parties, she collected an army from the adjacent counties,391 and advanced to Perth, threatening to lay waste the town with fire and sword, and to inflict the most exemplary vengeance on all who had been instrumental in producing the riot.392

The protestants of the north were not insensible to their danger, and did all in their power to avert the storm which threatened them. They wrote to the queen regent, to the commander of the French troops, to the popish nobles, and to those of their own persuasion: they solemnly disclaimed all rebellious intentions; they protested their readiness to yield due obedience to the government; they entreated all to refrain from offering violence to peaceable subjects, who sought only the liberty of their consciences, and the reformation of religion. But, finding all their endeavours fruitless, they resolved not to suffer themselves and their brethren to be massacred, and prepared for a defence of the town against an illegal and furious assault. And so prompt and vigorous were they in the measures which they adopted, that the regent, when she approached, deeming it imprudent to attack them, proposed overtures of accommodation, to which they readily acceded.393

While the two armies lay before Perth, and negotiations were going on between them, our Reformer obtained an interview with the prior of St Andrews and the young earl of Argyle, who adhered to the regent. He reminded them of the solemn engagements which they had contracted, and charged them with violating these, by abetting measures which tended to suppress the reformed religion, and enslave their native country. The noblemen replied, that they had been induced, by the representations of the regent and the clergy, to believe that their brethren intended to swerve from their former loyalty, and, although they were now convinced that this charge was unfounded, they were anxious to fulfil the promise which they had made to the queen, by bringing the present difference to an amicable termination; but, if she should violate the proposed treaty, they would withdraw their countenance from her, and openly take part with their brethren, to whom they considered themselves as bound by the most sacred ties. The regent was not long in affording them an opportunity of verifying their promise. No sooner had she taken possession of Perth, and perceived that the forces of the protestants were disbanded, than she began to disregard the conditions to which she had agreed. Argyle and the prior remonstrated against the infractions of a treaty which they had concluded at her earnest request, but were answered in such an unsatisfactory manner, that they deserted her court, and could never afterwards be persuaded to place any confidence in her promises.394

From the time that the leading protestants discovered the hostile intentions of the regent, they had used great industry to ascertain the numbers of their friends, to establish means of correspondence among them, and to have them united by the strictest bonds. For this purpose, copies of their religious covenant were committed to persons who procured subscriptions to it in the different districts where they resided.395 From the designation which they gave themselves in this covenant, or from the union which subsisted among them, they began at this time to be distinguished by the name of The Congregation. The nobles who had joined the association, were the earls of Argyle, Glencairn, Monteith, and Rothes; lords Ochiltree, Boyd, Ruthven, and the prior of St Andrews. The earl Marischal, and lord Erskine, with some others who were friendly to the reformed religion, still supported the regent, or remained neutral. A large proportion of the lesser barons belonged to the Congregation; particularly those of Mearns, Angus, Strathearn, Monteith, Fyfe, Cunningham, Kyle, Carrick, and Galloway.396

In the beginning of June, the lords of the Congregation held a consultation on the measures which they should adopt for their own security, and for the advancement of the Reformation. They had repeatedly applied to the clergy to rectify the abuses which prevailed in the church, and to release them from those unjust and oppressive laws by which their consciences had long been enslaved; but their petitions had been treated with neglect and disdain. “To abandon usurped power, to renounce lucrative error, are sacrifices which the virtue of individuals has, on some occasions, offered to truth; but from any society of men no such effort can be expected. The corruptions of a society, recommended by common utility, and justified by universal practice, are viewed by its members without shame or horror; and reformation never proceeds from themselves, but is always forced upon them by some foreign hand.”397 Convinced of this, the protestant leaders had next addressed themselves to the regent, and requested her to employ her authority to bring about a reformation, which could not be much longer deferred, without interrupting the peace of the kingdom. As long as they had any reason to think that she was disposed to listen to their petitions, they had waited with exemplary patience, and restrained the ardour of such of their friends as were inclined, without further delay, to use the right which nature and Christianity gave them; but the regent had disappointed their expectations, and from being a professed friend was become a declared enemy; they could no longer place the smallest dependence on her promises; and they were satisfied that she had formed a systematic plan for suppressing the Reformation, and enforcing the existing ecclesiastical laws in all their rigour. It behoved them now either to submit to have their chains riveted, or by a bold and vigorous effort to shake them off altogether. They determined upon the latter. The scandalous lives of the established clergy, their total neglect of the religious instruction of the people, and the profanation of Christian worship by gross idolatry, were the most glaring abuses. The lords of the Congregation resolved to take immediate steps for removing these, by abolishing the popish service, and setting up the reformed worship in all those places to which their authority or influence extended, and in which the greater part of the inhabitants were friendly to the design. This step is justified in part by the feudal ideas respecting the jurisdiction of the nobility, which at that time prevailed in Scotland; the urgent and extreme necessity of the case, however, forms its best vindication. A great part of the nation loudly demanded such a reformation, and, had not regular measures been adopted for its introduction, the popular indignation would have effected the work in a more exceptionable way.

St Andrews was the place fixed on for commencing these operations. With this view, the earl of Argyle, and lord James Stewart, who was prior of the abbey of St Andrews, made an appointment with Knox to meet them, on a certain day, in that city. Travelling along the east coast of Fife, he preached at Anstruther and Crail, and, on the 9th of June, joined them at St Andrews. The archbishop, apprized of his design to preach in his cathedral, assembled an armed force, and sent information to him, that if he appeared in the pulpit, he would give orders to the soldiers to fire upon him. The noblemen, having met to consult what ought to be done, agreed that Knox should desist from preaching at that time, and strongly urged upon him the reasons of their opinion. Their retinue was very slender; they had not yet ascertained the disposition of the inhabitants of the town; the queen regent lay at a small distance with an army; and his appearance in the pulpit might lead to the sacrifice of his own life, and the lives of those who were determined to defend him from violence.

There are occasions on which it is a proof of superior wisdom to disregard the ordinary dictates of prudence; on which, to face danger is to avoid it, to flee from it is to invite it. Had the reformers, after announcing their intentions, suffered themselves to be intimidated by the bravading attitude and language of the archbishop, their cause would, at the very outset, have received a blow, from which it would not easily have recovered. This was prevented by the firmness and intrepidity of Knox. Fired with the recollection of the part which he had formerly acted on that spot, and with the near prospect of realizing the sanguine hopes which he had so long cherished in his breast, he resisted all the importunities of his friends. He could take God to witness, he said, that he never preached in contempt of any man, nor with the design of hurting an earthly creature; but to delay to preach next day, (unless forcibly hindered,) he could not in conscience agree. In that town, and in that church, had God first raised him to the dignity of a preacher, and from it he had been “reft” by French tyranny, at the instigation of the Scots bishops. The length of his imprisonment, and the tortures which he had endured, he would not at present recite; but one thing he could not conceal, that, in the hearing of many yet alive, he had expressed his confident hope of again preaching in St Andrews. Now, therefore, when providence, beyond all men’s expectation, had brought him to that place, he besought them not to hinder him. “As for the fear of danger, that may come to me,” continued he, “let no man be solicitous; for my life is in the custody of him whose glory I seek. I desire the hand nor weapon of no man to defend me. I only crave audience; which, if it be denied here unto me at this time, I must seek where I may have it.”

This intrepid reply silenced all remonstrance; and next day, Knox appeared in the pulpit, and preached to a numerous assembly, including many of the clergy, without experiencing the slightest interruption. He discoursed on the subject of our Saviour’s ejecting the profane traffickers from the temple of Jerusalem, from which he took occasion to expose the enormous corruptions which had been introduced into the church under the papacy, and to point out what was incumbent upon Christians, in their different spheres, for removing them. On the three following days he preached in the same place; and such was the influence of his doctrine, that the provost, bailies, and inhabitants, harmoniously agreed to set up the reformed worship in the town; the church was stripped of images and pictures, and the monasteries were pulled down. This happened on the 14th of June, 1559.

Understanding that the lords at St Andrews were accompanied by a small retinue, the queen regent, who lay at Falkland, attempted to surprise them. But the protestants in Angus, having received information of the critical situation of their brethren, came to their assistance with such celerity and in such numbers, that they were able to face the royal army at Cupar‑moor; and the regent, afraid to risk a battle, consented to a truce, by which she engaged to remove her French troops from Fife, and to send commissioners to St Andrews for the purpose of settling all differences between her and the Congregation. The troops were removed, but no commissioners appeared; and the lords of the Congregation, being apprized that the queen intended to fortify the passage of the Forth at Stirling, and to cut off their communication with the protestants in the south, proceeded to Perth, and, having expelled the garrison from that town, by a rapid march seized upon Stirling, and, advancing, took possession of the capital of the kingdom; the regent, as they approached, retiring with her forces to Dunbar.398

The example of St Andrews, in abolishing the popish worship, was quickly followed in other parts of the kingdom; and, in the course of a few weeks, at Crail, at Cupar, at Lindores, at Stirling, at Linlithgow, at Edinburgh, and at Glasgow, the houses of the monks were overthrown, and all the instruments of idolatry destroyed.399

These proceedings were celebrated in the singular lays, which were at that time circulated among the reformers.

Scarcely any thing in the progress of the Scottish Reformation has been more frequently or more loudly condemned than the demolition of those edifices upon which superstition had lavished all the ornaments of the chisel and the pencil. To the Roman catholics, who anathematized all who were engaged in this work of inexpiable sacrilege, and represented it as involving the complete overthrow of religion,401 have succeeded another race of writers, who, although they do not, in general, make high pretensions to devotion, have not scrupled, at times, to borrow the language of their predecessors, and have bewailed the wreck of these precious monuments in as bitter strains as ever idolator did the loss of his gods. These are the warm admirers of Gothic architecture, and other relics of ancient art; some of whom, if we may judge from their language, would welcome back the reign of superstition, with all its ignorance and bigotry, if they could recover the objects of their adoration.402 Writers of this stamp depict the ravages and devastation which marked the progress of the Reformation, in colours as dark as ever were employed by the historian in describing the overthrow of ancient learning, by the irruption of the barbarous Huns and Vandals. Our Reformer cannot be mentioned by them but with symptoms of horror, and in terms of detestation, as a barbarian, a savage, and a ring‑leader of mobs, for overthrowing whatever was venerable in antiquity, or sacred in religion. It is unnecessary to produce instances.

Expectes eadem a summo minimoque poeta.

To remind such persons of the divine mandate to destroy all monuments of idolatry in the land of Canaan would be altogether insufferable, and might provoke, from some of them, a profane attack upon the authority from which it proceeded. To plead the example of the early Christians, in demolishing the temples and statues dedicated to pagan polytheism, would only awaken the keen regrets that are felt for the irreparable loss.403 It would be still worse to refer to the apocalyptic predictions, which some have been so fanatical as to think were fulfilled in the miserable spoliation of that “great city,” which, under all its revolutions, has so eminently proved the nurse of the arts, and given encouragement to painters, statuaries, and sculptors, to “harpers, and musicians, and pipers, and trumpeters, and craftsmen of whatsoever craft,” who to this day have not forgotten their obligations to it, nor ceased to bewail its destruction. In any apology which I make for the reformers, I would alleviate instead of aggravating the distress which is felt for the loss of such valuable memorials of antiquity. It has been observed by high authority, that there are certain commodities which derive their principal value from their extreme rarity, and which, if found in great quantities, would cease to be sought after or prized. A nobleman of great literary reputation has, indeed, questioned the justness of this observation, so far as respects precious stones and metals.404 But I flatter myself, that the noble author and the learned critic, however much they may differ as to public wealth, will agree that the observation is perfectly just, as applied to those commodities which constitute the wealth and engage the researches of the antiquary. With him rarity is always an essential requisite and primary recommendation. His property, like that of the possessor of the famous Sibylline books, does not decrease in value by the reduction of its quantity, but after the greater part has been destroyed, becomes still more precious. If the matter be viewed in this light, antiquarians have no reason to complain of the ravages of the reformers, who have left them such valuable remains, and placed them in that very state which awakens in their minds the most lively sentiments of the sublime and beautiful, by reducing them to—ruins.

But, to speak seriously, I would not be thought so great an enemy to any of the fine arts, as to rejoice at the wanton destruction of their models, ancient or modern, or to vindicate those, who, from ignorance and fanatical rage, may have excited the mob to such violence. But I am satisfied, that the charges usually brought against our reformers on this head are highly exaggerated, and in some instances altogether groundless. The demolition of the monasteries is, in fact, the only thing of which they can be fairly accused. Cathedral and parochial churches, and, in several places, the chapels attached to monasteries, were appropriated to the protestant worship; and, in the orders issued for stripping them of images, idolatrous pictures, and superstitious furniture, particular directions were given to avoid whatever might injure the buildings, or deface any of their ordinary decorations. It is true, that some churches suffered from popular violence during the ferment of the Reformation; and that others were dilapidated, in consequence of their most valuable materials being sold to defray the expenses of the war in which the protestants were involved; but the former will not be matter of surprise to those who have attended to the conduct of other nations in similar circumstances, and the latter will be censured by such persons only as are incapable of entering into the feelings of a people who were engaged in a struggle for their lives, their liberties, and their religion. Of all the charges thrown out against our reformers, the most ridiculous is, that, in their zeal against popery, they waged war against literature, by destroying the valuable books and records which had been deposited in the monasteries. The state of learning among the monks, at the era of the Reformation, was wretched, and their libraries poor; the only persons who patronized or cultivated literature in Scotland were protestants; and so far from sweeping away any literary monuments which remained, the reformers were disposed to search for them among the rubbish, and to preserve them with the utmost care. In this respect we have no reason to deprecate a comparison between our Reformation and that of England, notwithstanding the flattering accounts which have been given of the orderly and temperate manner in which the latter was conducted under the superintending control of the supreme powers.405

But, even although the irregularities committed in the progress of that work had been greater than have been represented, I must still reprobate the spirit which disposes persons to dwell with unceasing lamentation upon losses, which, in the view of an enlightened and liberal mind, will sink and disappear in the magnitude of the incalculable good which rose from the wreck of the revolution. What! do we celebrate, with public rejoicings, victories over the enemies of our country, in the gaining of which the lives of thousands of our fellow‑creatures have been sacrificed? and shall solemn masses and sad dirges, accompanied with direful execrations, be everlastingly sung, for the mangled members of statues, torn pictures, and ruined towers? Shall those who, by a display of the horrors of war, would persuade their countrymen to repent of a contest which had been distinguished with uncommon feats of valour, and crowned with the most brilliant success, be accused of a desire to tarnish the national glory? Shall the topics on which they insist, however forcible in themselves—the effusion of human blood, the sacking of cities, the devastation of fertile provinces, the ruin of arts and manufactures, and the intolerable burdens entailed even upon the victors themselves—be represented as mere commonplace topics, employed as a cover to disloyalty? And do not those who, at the distance of nearly three centuries, continue to wail evils of a far inferior kind which attended the Reformation, justly expose themselves to the suspicion of indifference and disaffection to a cause, in comparison with which all contests between rival kingdoms and sovereigns dwindle into insignificance? I will go farther, and say, that I look upon the destruction of these monuments as a piece of good policy, which contributed materially to the overthrow of the Roman catholic religion, and the prevention of its re‑establishment. It was chiefly by the magnificence of its temples, and the splendid apparatus of its worship, that the popish church fascinated the senses and imaginations of the people. A more successful method of attacking it, therefore, could not be adopted than the demolition of what contributed so much to uphold and extend its influence. There is more wisdom than many seem to perceive in the maxim which Knox is said to have inculcated, “that the best way to keep the rooks from returning, was to pull down their nests.” In demolishing, or rendering uninhabitable, all those buildings which had served for the maintenance of the ancient superstition, (except what were requisite for the protestant worship,) the reformers only acted upon the principles of a prudent general, who dismantles or razes the fortifications which he is unable to keep, and which might afterwards be seized and employed against him by the enemy. Had they been allowed to remain in their former splendour, the popish clergy would not have ceased to indulge hopes, and to make efforts to be restored to them; occasions would have been taken to tamper with the credulous, and to inflame the minds of the superstitious; and the reformers might soon have found reason to repent their ill‑judged forbearance.406

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Our Reformer was along with the forces of the Congregation when they faced the army of the regent in Cupar‑moor;407 he accompanied them on their expedition to Perth.408 and in the end of June arrived with them at Edinburgh.409 On the same day he preached in St Giles’s, and next day in the Abbey church. On the 7th of July, the inhabitants of the metropolis met in the Tolbooth, and made choice of him as their minister. With this choice, which was approved of by his brethren, he judged it his duty to comply, and immediately began his labours in the city.410

On their arrival at Edinburgh, the lords of the Congregation had sent deputies to Dunbar, to assure the queen that they had no intention of throwing off their allegiance, and to induce her to yield to reasonable terms of accommodation. As a preliminary, she agreed to release their ministers from the sentence of outlawry, and allow them to preach to those who chose to hear them.411 Meanwhile, she was busily employed in endeavours to disunite her opponents. Having spun out the negotiations which they had opened with her, until she understood that the greater part of their forces had left them, she advanced suddenly with her army to Edinburgh. The protestants took up a position on the east side of Craigingate,412 and resolved to defend the capital, though against superior forces;413 but Leith having opened its gates to her, and lord Erskine, who commanded the castle, threatening to fire upon them, they were forced to conclude a treaty, by which they agreed to leave Edinburgh. They stipulated, however, that the inhabitants should be left at liberty to use that form of worship which was most acceptable to them.414 Knox would have remained with his congregation after the regent took possession of the city; but the nobles, knowing the value of his services, and the danger to which his life would be exposed, insisted on his accompanying them.415 Willock, who was less obnoxious to the hatred of the court and clergy, was therefore substituted in his place; and the prudence and firmness which this preacher displayed in that difficult situation proved that he was not unworthy of the choice which had fallen on him. The regent was extremely anxious to have the Roman catholic service re‑established in the church of St Giles, and employed the earl of Huntly to persuade the citizens to declare in favour of the measure; but neither the authority of the queen, nor the entreaties which Huntly employed, both in private and at a public meeting called with that view, could prevail with them to swerve from their profession of the reformed religion, or to relinquish the right which was secured to them by the late treaty.416 Although the French soldiers who had come to the regent’s assistance kept the city in alarm, and disturbed the protestant service,417 Willock maintained his place; and in the month of August he administered the sacrament of the supper after the reformed manner in St Giles’s church.418 The celebration of the popish worship was confined to the royal chapel and the church of Holyroodhouse, during the time that the capital was in the possession of the royal forces.419

In the month of August, a singular phenomenon was seen in the Abbey church. The archbishop of St Andrews appeared in the pulpit, and preached. If his grace did not acquit himself with great ability on the occasion, he at least behaved with becoming modesty. After discoursing for a short time, he requested the audience to excuse the defects of his sermon, as he had not been accustomed to the employment, and told them that he had provided a very skilful preacher to succeed him; upon which he concluded, and gave way to friar Black.420

On retiring from Edinburgh, Knox undertook a tour of preaching through the kingdom. The wide field which was before him, the interesting situation in which he was placed, the dangers by which he was surrounded, and the hopes which he cherished, increased the ardour of his zeal, and stimulated him to extraordinary exertions both of body and mind. Within less than two months, he travelled over a great part of Scotland. He visited Kelso, and Jedburgh, and Dumfries, and Ayr, and Stirling, and Perth, and Brechin, and Montrose, and Dundee, and returned to St Andrews. This itinerancy had great influence in diffusing the knowledge of the truth, and in strengthening the protestant interest. The attention of the nation was aroused; their eyes were opened to the errors by which they had been deluded; and they panted for a continued and more copious supply of the word of life, which they had once been permitted to taste, and had felt so refreshing to their souls.421 I cannot better describe the emotions which this success excited in Knox’s breast, than by quoting from the familiar letters which he wrote at intervals snatched from his constant employment.

“Thus far hath God advanced the glory of his dear Son among us,” says he, in a letter written from St Andrews, on the 23d of June. “O! that my heart could be thankful for the superexcellent benefit of my God. The long thirst of my wretched heart is satisfied in abundance that is above my expectation; for now forty days and more hath my God used my tongue, in my native country, to the manifestation of his glory. Whatsoever now shall follow as touching my own carcass, his holy name be praised. The thirst of the poor people, as well as of the nobility, here, is wondrous great; which putteth me in comfort, that Christ Jesus shall triumph here in the north and extreme parts of the earth for a space.” In another letter, dated the 2d of September, he says: “Time to me is so precious, that with great difficulty can I steal one hour in eight days, either to satisfy myself, or to gratify my friends. I have been in continual travel since the day of appointment;422 and, notwithstanding the fevers have vexed me, yet have I travelled through the most part of this realm, where (all praise to His blessed Majesty!) men of all sorts and conditions embrace the truth. Enemies we have many, by reason of the Frenchmen who lately arrived, of whom our papists hope golden hills. As we be not able to resist, we do nothing but go about Jericho, blowing with trumpets, as God giveth strength, hoping victory by his power alone.”423

Soon after his arrival in Scotland, he wrote for his wife and family, whom he had left behind him at Geneva. On the 13th of June, Mrs Knox and her mother were at Paris, and applied to Sir Nicholas Throkmorton, the English ambassador, for a safe conduct to pass into England. Throkmorton, who by this time had penetrated the counsels of the French court, not only granted this request, but wrote a letter to Elizabeth, in which he urged the propriety of overlooking the offence which Knox had given by his publication against female government, and of conciliating him by the kind treatment of his wife; seeing he was in great credit with the lords of the Congregation, had been the principal instrument in producing the late change in Scotland, and was capable of doing essential service to her majesty.424 Accordingly, Mrs Knox came into England, and, being conveyed to the borders by the directions of the court, reached her husband in safety, on the 20th of September.425 Mrs Bowes, after remaining a short time in her native country, followed her daughter into Scotland, where she remained until her death.426

The arrival of his family was the more gratifying to our Reformer, that they were accompanied by Christopher Goodman, his late colleague at Geneva. He had repeatedly written, in the most pressing manner, for him to come to his assistance, and expressed much uneasiness at the delay of his arrival.427 Goodman became minister of Ayr, and was afterwards translated to St Andrews. The settlement of protestant ministers began to take place at an earlier period than is mentioned in our common histories. Previous to September, 1559, eight towns were provided with pastors; and other places remained unprovided owing to the scarcity of preachers.428

In the mean time, it became daily more apparent that the lords of the Congregation would be unable, without foreign aid, to maintain the struggle in which they were involved. Had the contest been merely between them and the domestic party of the regent, they would soon have brought it to a successful termination; but they could not withstand the veteran troops which France had already sent to her assistance, and was preparing to send in still more formidable numbers.429 As far back as the middle of June, our Reformer had renewed his exertions for obtaining assistance from England, and persuaded William Kircaldy of Grange, first to write, and afterwards to pay a visit, to Sir Henry Percy, who held a public situation on the English marches. Percy immediately transmitted his representations to London, and an answer was returned from Secretary Cecil, encouraging the correspondence.430

Knox himself wrote to Cecil, requesting permission to visit England,431 and inclosed a letter to queen Elizabeth, in which he attempted to apologize for his rude attack upon female government. When a man has been “overtaken in a fault,” it is his glory to confess it; but those who have been so unfortunate as to incur the resentment of princes, must, if they expect to appease them, condescend to very ample and humiliating apologies. Luther involved himself more than once by attempting this task, and, had not the lustre of his talents protected him, his reputation must have suffered materially from his ill success. He was prevailed on to write submissive apologies to Leo X. and Henry VIII. for the freedom with which he had treated them in his writings; but, in both instances, his apologies were rejected with contempt, and he found himself under the necessity of retracting his retractations.432 Knox was in no danger of committing himself in this way. He was less violent in his temper than the German reformer, but he was also less flexible and accommodating. There was nothing at which he was more awkward than apologies, condescensions, and civilities; and on the present occasion he was placed in a very embarrassing predicament, as his judgment would not permit him to retract the sentiment which had given offence to the English queen. In his letter to Elizabeth, he expresses deep distress at having incurred her displeasure, and warm attachment to her government; but the grounds on which he advises her to found her title to the crown, and indeed the whole strain in which the letter is written, are such as must have aggravated, instead of extenuating, his offence in the opinion of that high‑minded princess.433 But, although his apology had been more ample and humble than it was, it is not probable that he would have succeeded better with Elizabeth than Luther did with her father. Christopher Goodman, after his return to England, was obliged, at two several periods, to subscribe a recantation of the opinion which he had given against the lawfulness of female government, nor could all his condescensions procure for him the favour of his sovereign.434 In fact, Elizabeth was all along extremely tender on the subject of her right to the throne; she never failed to resent every attack that was made upon this, from whatever quarter it came; and, although several historians have amused their readers with accounts of her ambition to be thought more beautiful and accomplished than the queen of Scots,435 I am persuaded that she was always more jealous of Mary as a competitor for the crown, than as a rival in personal charms.

It does not, however, appear, that Elizabeth ever saw Knox’s letter, and I have little doubt that it was suppressed by the sagacious secretary.436 Cecil was himself friendly to the measure of assisting the Scottish Congregation, and exerted all his influence to bring over the queen and her council to his opinion. Accordingly, Knox received a message, desiring him to meet Sir Henry Percy at Alnwick, on the 2d of August, upon business which required the utmost secrecy and dispatch; and Cecil himself came down to Stamford to hold an interview with him.437 The confusion produced by the advance of the regent’s army upon Edinburgh, retarded his journey; but no sooner was this settled, than Knox sailed from Pittenweem to Holy Island. Finding that Percy was recalled from the borders, he applied to Sir James Croft, the governor of Berwick. Croft, who was not unapprized of the design on which he came, dissuaded him from proceeding farther into England, and undertook to despatch his communications to London, and to procure a speedy return. Alexander Whitlaw of Greenrig, who had been banished from Scotland, having come to London on his way from France, was intrusted by the English court with their answer to the letters of the Congregation. Arriving at Berwick, he delivered the despatches to Knox, who hastened with them to Stirling, where a meeting of the protestant lords was to be held. He prudently returned by sea to Fife; for the queen regent had come to the knowledge of his journey to England, and Whitlaw, in travelling through East Lothian, being mistaken for Knox, was hotly pursued, and made his escape with great difficulty.438 The irresolution or the caution of Elizabeth’s cabinet had led them to express themselves in such general and unsatisfactory terms, that the lords of the Congregation, when the letters were laid before them, were both disappointed and displeased; and it was with some difficulty that our Reformer obtained permission from them to write again to London in his own name. The representation which he gave of the urgency of the case, and the danger of further hesitation or delay, produced a speedy reply, desiring them to send a confidential messenger to Berwick, who would receive a sum of money to assist them in prosecuting the war. About the same time, Sir Ralph Sadler was sent down to Berwick, to act as an accredited but secret agent, and the correspondence between the court of London and the lords of the Congregation continued afterwards to be carried on through him and Sir James Croft, until the English auxiliary army entered Scotland.439

If we reflect upon the connexion which the religious and civil liberties of the nation had with the contest in which the protestants were engaged, and upon our Reformer’s zeal in that cause, we shall not be greatly surprised to find him at this time acting in the character of a politician. Extraordinary cases cannot be measured by ordinary rules. In a great emergency, when all that is valuable and dear to a people is at stake, it becomes the duty of every individual to step forward, and exert all his talents for the public good. Learning was at this time rare among the nobility; and though there were men of distinguished abilities among the protestant leaders, few of them had been accustomed to transact public business. Accordingly, the management of the correspondence with England was for a time devolved chiefly on Knox and Balnaves. But our Reformer submitted to the task merely from a sense of duty and regard to the common cause; and when the younger Maitland acceded to their party, he expressed the greatest satisfaction at the prospect of being relieved from the burden.440

It was not without reason that he longed for this deliverance. He now felt that it was as difficult to preserve integrity and Christian simplicity amidst the crooked wiles of political intrigue, as he had formerly found it to pursue truth through the perplexing mazes of scholastic sophistry. In performing a task foreign to his habits, and repugnant to his disposition, he met with a good deal of vexation, and several unpleasant rubs. These were owing partly to his own impetuosity, and partly to the grudge entertained against him by Elizabeth, but chiefly to the particular line of policy which the English cabinet had resolved to pursue. They were convinced of the danger of allowing the Scottish protestants to be suppressed; but they wished to confine themselves to pecuniary aid, believing that by such assistance the lords of the Congregation would be able to expel the French, and bring the contest to a successful issue, while, by the secresy with which it could be conveyed, an open breach between France and England would be prevented. This plan, which originated in the personal disinclination of Elizabeth to the Scottish war,441 rather than in the judgment of her wisest counsellors, protracted the contest, and gave occasion to some angry disputes between the English agents and those of the Congregation. The former were continually urging the associated lords to attack the forces of the regent, before she received fresh succours from France, and blaming their slow operations; they complained of the want of secresy in the correspondence with England; and even insinuated that the money, intended for the common cause, was partially applied to private purposes. The latter were irritated by this insinuation, and urged the necessity of military as well as pecuniary assistance.442

In a letter to Sir James Croft, Knox represented the great importance of their being speedily assisted with troops, without which they would be in much hazard of miscarrying in an attack upon the fortifications of Leith. The court of England, he said, ought not to hesitate at offending France, of whose hostile intentions against them they had the most satisfactory evidence. But “if ye list to craft with thame,” continued he, “the sending of a thousand or mo men to us can breake no league nor point of peace contracted betwixt you and France: for it is free for your subjects to serve in warr anie prince or nation for their wages; and if ye fear that such excuses will not prevail, ye may declare thame rebelles to your realme when ye shall be assured that thei be in our companye.” No doubt such things have been often done; and such “political casuistry” (as Keith not improperly styles it) is not unknown at courts. But it must be confessed, that the measure recommended by Knox (the morality of which must stand on the same grounds with the assistance which the English were at that time affording) was too glaring to be concealed by the excuses which he suggested. Croft laid hold of this opportunity to check the impetuosity of his correspondent, and wrote him, that he wondered how he, “being a wise man,” would require from them such aid as they could not give “without breach of treaty, and dishonour;” and that “the world was not so blind but that it could soon espy” the “devices” by which he proposed “to colour their doings.” Knox, in his reply, apologized for his “unreasonable request;” but, at the same time, reminded Croft of the common practice of courts in such matters, and the conduct of the French court towards the English in a recent instance.443 He was not ignorant, he said, of the inconveniences which might attend an open declaration in their favour, but feared that they would have cause to “repent the drift of time, when the remedy would not be so easy.”444

This is the only instance in which I have found our Reformer recommending dissimulation, which was very foreign to the openness of his natural temper, and the blunt and rigid honesty that marked his general conduct. His own opinion was, that the English court ought from the first to have done what they found themselves obliged to do at last—avow their resolution to support the Congregation. Keith praises Croft’s “just reprimand on Mr Knox’s double fac’d proposition,” and Cecil says, that his “audacite was well tamed.” We must not, however, imagine, that these statesmen had any scruple of conscience, or nice feeling of honour on this point. For, on the very day on which Croft reprimanded Knox, he wrote to Cecil that he thought the queen ought openly to take part with the Congregation. And in the same letter in which Cecil speaks of Knox’s audacity, he advises Croft to adopt in substance the very measure which our Reformer had recommended, by sending five or six officers, who should “steal from thence with appearance of displeasure for lack of interteynment;” and in a subsequent letter, he gives directions to send three or four, fit for being captains, who should give out that they left Berwick, “as men desyrous to be exercised in the warres, rather than to lye idely in that towne.”445

Notwithstanding the prejudice which existed in the English court against our Reformer,446 on account of his “audacity” in attacking female prerogative, they were too well acquainted with his integrity and influence to decline his services. Cecil kept up a correspondence with him; and in the directions sent from London for the management of the subsidy, it was expressly provided, that he should be one of the council for examining the receipts and payments, to see that it was applied to “the common action,” and not to any private use.447

In the mean time, his zeal and activity, in the cause of the Congregation, exposed him to the deadly resentment of the queen regent and the papists. A reward was publicly offered to any one who should apprehend or kill him; and not a few, actuated by hatred or avarice, lay in wait to seize his person. But this did not deter him from appearing in public, nor from travelling through the country in the discharge of his duty. His exertions at this period were incredibly great. By day he was employed in preaching, by night in writing letters on public business. He was the soul of the Congregation; was always found at the post of danger; and by his presence, his public discourses, and private advices, animated the whole body, and defeated the schemes employed to corrupt or disunite them.448

The Congregation had lately received a considerable increase of strength by the accession of the former regent, the duke of Chastelherault. His eldest son, the earl of Arran, who commanded the Scots guard in France, had embraced the principles of the Reformation; understanding that the French court, which was entirely under the direction of the princes of Lorrain, intended to throw him into prison, he secretly retired to Geneva, from which he was conveyed to London by the assistance of Elizabeth’s ministers. In the month of August he came to his father at Hamilton. The representations of his son, joined with those of the English cabinet, and with his own jealousy of the designs of the queen regent, easily gained over the vacillating duke, who met with the lords of the Congregation, and subscribed their bond of confederation.449

Our Reformer was now called to take a share in a very delicate and important measure. When they first had recourse to arms in their own defence, the lords of the Congregation had no intention of making any alteration in the government, or of assuming the exercise of the supreme authority.450 Even after they had adopted a more regular and permanent system of resistance to the measures of the queen regent, they continued to recognise the station which she held, presented petitions to her, and listened respectfully to the proposals which she made for removing the grounds of variance. But finding that she was fully bent upon the execution of her plan for subverting the national liberties, and that her official situation gave her great advantages in carrying on this design, they began to deliberate upon the propriety of adopting a different line of conduct. Their sovereigns were minors, in a foreign country, and under the management of persons to whose influence the evils of which they complained were principally to be ascribed. The queen dowager held the regency by the authority of parliament; and might she not be deprived of it by the same authority? In the present state of the country, it was impossible for a free and regular parliament to meet; but the majority of the nation had declared their dissatisfaction with her administration; and was it not competent for them to provide for the public safety, which was exposed to such imminent danger? These were the questions which formed the topic of frequent conversation at this time.

After much deliberation, a numerous assembly, consisting of nobles, barons, and representatives of boroughs, met at Edinburgh, on the 21st of October, 1559, to bring this important point to a solemn issue. To this assembly Knox and Willock were called; and the question being stated to them, they were required to deliver their opinions as to the lawfulness of the proposed measure. Willock, who then officiated as minister of Edinburgh, being first asked, declared it to be his judgment, founded on reason and scripture, that the power of rulers was limited; that they might be deprived of it upon valid grounds; and that the queen regent having, by fortifying Leith, and introducing foreign troops into the country, evinced a fixed determination to oppress and enslave the kingdom, might justly be divested of her authority, by the nobles and barons, as native counsellors of the realm, whose petitions and remonstrances she had repeatedly rejected. Knox assented to the opinion delivered by his brother, and added, that the assembly might, with safe consciences, act upon it, provided they attended to the three following things: First, that they did not suffer the misconduct of the queen regent to alienate their affections from due allegiance to their sovereigns, Francis and Mary; second, that they were not actuated in the measure by private hatred or envy of the queen dowager, but by regard to the safety of the commonwealth; and, third, that any sentence which they might at this time pronounce, should not preclude her re‑admission to office, if she afterwards discovered sorrow for her conduct, and a disposition to submit to the advice of the estates of the nation. After this, the whole assembly, having severally delivered their opinions, did, by a solemn deed, suspend the queen dowager from her authority as regent of the kingdom, until the meeting of a free parliament;451 and, at the same time, elected a council for the management of public affairs during this interval.452 When the council had occasion to treat of matters connected with religion, four of the ministers were appointed to assist in their deliberations. These were Knox, Willock, Goodman, and Alexander Gordon, bishop of Galloway, who had embraced the Reformation.453

It has been alleged by some writers, that the question respecting the suspension of the queen regent was altogether incompetent for ministers of the gospel to determine, and that Knox and Willock, by the advice which they gave on this occasion, exposed themselves unnecessarily to odium.454 But it is not easy to see how they could have been excused in refusing to deliver their opinion, when required by those who had submitted to their ministry, upon a measure which involved a case of conscience, as well as a question of law and political right. The advice which was actually given and followed is a matter of greater consequence, than the quarter from which it came. As this rests upon principles very different from those which produced resistance to princes, and limitation on their authority, under feudal governments, and as our Reformer has been the object of much animadversion for inculcating these principles, I shall embrace the present opportunity to offer a few remarks on this interesting subject.

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Among the various causes which affected the general state of society and government in Europe, during the middle ages, the influence of religion cannot be overlooked. Debased by ignorance, and fettered by superstition, the minds of men were prepared to acquiesce without examination in the claims of authority, and tamely to submit to every yoke. In whatever light we view popery, the genius of that singular system of religion will be found to be adverse to liberty. The court of Rome, while it aimed directly at the establishment of a spiritual despotism in the hands of ecclesiastics, contributed to rivet the chains of political servitude upon the people. In return for the support which princes yielded to its arrogant claims, it was content to invest them with an absolute authority over the bodies of their subjects. By the priestly unction, performed at the coronation of kings in the name of the holy see, a sacred character was understood to be imparted, which raised them to a superiority over their nobility which they did not possess according to feudal ideas, rendered their persons inviolable, and their office divine. Although the sovereign pontiffs claimed, and on different occasions exercised, the power of dethroning kings, and of absolving subjects from their allegiance; yet any attempt of this kind, when it proceeded from the people themselves, was denounced as a crime deserving the severest punishment in this world, and damnation in the next. Hence sprung the doctrine of the divine right of kings to rule independently of their people, and of passive obedience and non‑resistance to their will; under the sanction of which they were encouraged to sport with the lives and happiness of their subjects, and to indulge in the most tyrannical and wanton acts of oppression, without the dread of resistance, or of being called to an account by any power on earth. Even in countries where the people were understood to enjoy certain political privileges, transmitted from remote ages, or wrested from their princes on some favourable occasions, these principles were generally prevalent; and, availing himself of them, it was easy for an ambitious and powerful monarch to violate the rights of the people with impunity, and upon a constitution, the forms of which were friendly to popular liberty, to establish an administration completely arbitrary and despotic.

The contest between papal sovereignty and the authority of general councils, which was carried on during the fifteenth century, elicited some of the essential principles of liberty, which were afterwards applied to political government. The revival of learning, by unfolding the principles of legislation, and modes of government in the republics of ancient Greece and Rome, gradually led to more liberal notions on this subject. But these were confined to a few, and had no influence upon the general state of society. The spirit infused by philosophy and literature is too feeble and contracted to produce a radical reform of established abuses; and learned men, proud of their own superior illumination, and satisfied with the liberty of indulging their speculations, have generally been too indifferent or too timid to attempt the improvement of the multitude. It is to the religious spirit excited during the sixteenth century, which spread rapidly through Europe, and diffused itself among all classes of men, that we are chiefly indebted for the propagation of the genuine principles of rational liberty, and the consequent amelioration of government.

Civil and ecclesiastical tyranny were so closely combined, that it was impossible for men to emancipate themselves from the latter without throwing off the former; and from arguments which established their religious rights, the transition was easy, and almost unavoidable, to disquisitions about their civil privileges. In those kingdoms in which the rulers threw off the Roman yoke, and introduced the Reformation by their authority, the influence was more imperceptible and slow; and in some of them, as in England, the power taken from the ecclesiastical was thrown into the regal scale, which proved so far prejudicial to popular liberty. But where the Reformation was embraced by the great body of a nation, while the ruling powers continued to oppose it, the effect was visible and immediate. The interested and obstinate support which rulers gave to the old system of error and ecclesiastical tyranny, and their cruel persecution of all who favoured the new opinions, drove their subjects to enquire into the just limits of authority and obedience. Their judgments once informed as to the rights to which they were entitled, and their consciences satisfied respecting the means which they might employ to acquire them, the immense importance of the immediate object in view, their emancipation from religious bondage, and the salvation of themselves and their posterity, impelled them to make the attempt with an enthusiasm and perseverance which the mere love of civil liberty could not have inspired.

In effecting that memorable revolution, which terminated in favour of religious and political liberty in so many nations of Europe, the public teachers of the protestant doctrine had a principal influence. By their instructions and exhortations, they roused the people to consider their rights and exert their power; they stimulated timid and wary politicians; they encouraged and animated princes, nobles, and confederated states, with their armies, against the most formidable opposition, and under the most overwhelming difficulties, until their exertions were ultimately crowned with success. These facts are now admitted, and this honour has at last, through the force of truth, been conceded to the religious leaders of the protestant Reformation, by philosophical writers, who had too long branded them as ignorant and fanatical.455

Our Reformer had caught a large portion of the spirit of civil liberty. We have already adverted to the circumstance in his education which directed his attention, at an early period, to some of its principles.456 His subsequent studies introduced him to an acquaintance with the maxims and modes of government in the free states of antiquity; and it is reasonable to suppose that his intercourse with the republics of Switzerland and Geneva had some influence on his political creed. Having formed his sentiments independently of the prejudices arising from established laws, long usage, and commonly received opinions, his zeal and intrepidity prompted him to avow and propagate them, when others, less sanguine and resolute, would have been restrained by fear, or by despair of success.457 Extensive observation had convinced him of the glaring perversion of government in the European kingdoms; but his principles led him to desire their reform, not their subversion. His admiration of the polity of republics, ancient or modern, was not so great or indiscriminate as to prevent him from separating the essential principles of equity and freedom which they contained, from others which were incompatible with monarchy. He was perfectly sensible of the necessity of regular government to the maintenance of justice and order, and aware of the danger of setting men loose from its salutary control. And he uniformly inculcated a conscientious obedience to the lawful commands of rulers, and respect to their persons as well as to their authority, even when they were chargeable with various mismanagements, so long as they did not break through all the restraints of law and justice, and cease to perform the great and fundamental duties of their office.

But he held that rulers, supreme as well as subordinate, were invested with authority for the public good; that obedience was not due to them in any thing contrary to the divine law, natural or revealed; that, in every free and well‑constituted government, the law of the land was superior to the will of the prince; that inferior magistrates and subjects might restrain the supreme magistrate from particular illegal acts, without throwing off their allegiance, or being guilty of rebellion; that no class of men have an original, inherent, and indefeasible right to rule over a people, independently of their will and consent; that every nation is entitled to provide and require that they shall be ruled by laws which are agreeable to the divine law, and calculated to promote their welfare; that there is a mutual compact, tacit and implied, if not formal and explicit, between rulers and their subjects; and, if the former shall flagrantly violate this, employ that power for the destruction of the commonwealth which was committed to them for its preservation and benefit, or, in one word, if they shall become habitual tyrants and notorious oppressors, that the people are absolved from allegiance, and have a right to resist them, formally to depose them from their place, and to elect others in their room.

The real power of the Scottish kings was, indeed, always limited, and there are in our history, previous to the era of the Reformation, many instances of resistance to their authority. But, though these were pleaded as precedents on this occasion, it must be confessed that we cannot trace them to the principles of genuine liberty. They were the effects of sudden resentment on account of some extraordinary act of male‑administration, or of the ambition of some powerful baron, or of the jealousy with which the feudal aristocracy watched over the privileges of their own order. The people who followed the standards of their chiefs had little interest in the struggle, and derived no benefit from the limitations which were imposed upon the sovereign. But, at this time, more just and enlarged sentiments were diffused through the nation, and the idea of a commonwealth, including the mass of the people as well as the privileged orders, began to be entertained. Our Reformer, whose notions of hereditary right, whether in kings or nobles, were not exalted, studied to repress the insolence and oppression of the nobility. He reminded them of the original equality of men, and the ends for which some were raised above others; and he taught the people that they had rights to preserve, as well as duties to perform. With respect to female government, he never moved any question among his countrymen, nor attempted to gain proselytes to his opinion.458

Such, in substance, were the political sentiments which were inculcated by our Reformer, and which were more than once acted upon in Scotland during his lifetime. That in an age when the principles of political liberty were only beginning to be understood, such sentiments should have been regarded with a suspicious eye by some of the learned who had not yet thrown off common prejudices, and that they should have exposed those who maintained them to a charge of treason from despotical rulers and their numerous satellites, is far from being matter of wonder. But it must excite both surprise and indignation, to find writers in the present enlightened age, and under the sunshine of British liberty, (if our sun is not fast going down,) expressing their abhorrence of these principles, and exhausting upon their authors all the invective and virulence of the former anti‑monarcho‑machi, and advocates of passive obedience. They are essentially the principles upon which the free constitution of Britain rests; and the most obnoxious of them were reduced to practice at the memorable era of the Revolution, when the necessity of employing them was not more urgent or unquestionable, than it was at the suspension of the queen regent of Scotland, and the subsequent deposition of her daughter.

I have said essentially: for I would not be understood as meaning to say, that every proposition advanced by Knox, on this subject, is expressed in the most guarded and unexceptionable manner, or that all the cases in which he was led to vindicate forcible resistance to rulers, were such as rendered it necessary, and as may be pleaded as precedents in modern times. The political doctrines maintained at that period received a tincture from the spirit of the age, and were accommodated to a state of society and government comparatively rude and unsettled. The checks which have since been introduced into the constitution, and the influence which public opinion, expressed by the organ of a free press, has upon the conduct of rulers, are sufficient, in ordinary cases, to restrain dangerous encroachments, or to afford the means of correcting them in a peaceable way; and have thus happily superseded the necessity of having recourse to those desperate but decisive remedies which were formerly applied by an oppressed and indignant people. But if ever the time come when these principles shall be generally abjured or forgotten, the extinction of the boasted liberty of Britain will not be far off.

There are objections against our Reformer’s political principles which demand consideration, from the authority to which they appeal, and the influence which they may have on pious minds. “The doctrine of resistance to civil rulers,” it is alleged, “is repugnant to the express directions of the New Testament, which repeatedly enjoin Christians to be subject to ‘the powers that be,’ and denounce damnation against such as disobey or resist them on any pretext whatever. With the literal and strict import of these precepts the example of the primitive Christians agreed; for, even after they became very numerous, so as to be capable of opposing the government under which they lived, they never attempted to shake off the authority of the Roman emperors, or to employ force to protect themselves from the tyranny and persecutions to which they were exposed. Besides, granting that it is lawful for subjects to vindicate their civil rights and privileges by resisting arbitrary rulers, to have recourse to forcible measures for promoting Christianity, is diametrically opposite to the genius of that religion, which was propagated at first, and is still to be defended, not by arms and violence, but by teaching and suffering.”

These objections are more specious than solid. The directions and precepts on this subject, which are contained in the New Testament, must not be stretched beyond their evident scope and proper import. They do not give greater power to magistrates than they formerly possessed, nor do they supersede any of the rights or privileges to which subjects were entitled, by the common law of nature, or by the particular statutes of any country. The New Testament does not give directions to communities respecting the original formation or subsequent improvement of their civil constitutions, nor prescribe the course which ought to be pursued in certain extraordinary cases, when rulers abuse the power with which they are invested, and convert their legitimate authority into an engine of despotism and oppression.459 It supposes magistrates to be acting within the proper line of their office, and discharging its duties to the advantage of the society over which they are placed. And it teaches Christians, that the liberty which Christ purchased, and to the enjoyment of which they are called by the gospel, does not exempt them from subjection and obedience to civil authority, which is a divine ordinance for the good of mankind; that they are bound to obey existing rulers, although they should be of a different religion from themselves; and that Christianity, so far from setting them free from obligations to this or any other relative duty, strengthens these obligations, and requires them to discharge their duties for conscience‑sake, with fidelity, cheerfulness, patience, long‑suffering, and singleness of heart. Viewed in this light, nothing can be more reasonable in its own nature, or more honourable to the gospel, than the directions which it gives on this subject; and we must perceive a peculiar propriety in the frequency and earnestness with which they are urged, when we consider the danger in which the primitive christians were of supposing, that they were liberated from the ordinary restraints of the rest of mankind. But if we shall go beyond this, and assert that the scriptures have prohibited resistance to rulers in every case, and that the great body of a nation consisting of christians, in attempting to curb the fury of their rulers, or to deprive them of the power which they have grossly abused, are guilty of that crime against which the apostle denounces damnation, we represent the beneficent religion of Jesus as sanctioning despotism, and entailing all the evils of political bondage upon mankind; and we tread in the steps of those enemies to christianity, who, under the colour of paying a compliment to its pacific, submissive, tolerant, and self‑denying maxims, have represented it as calculated to produce a passive, servile spirit, and to extinguish courage, patriotism, the love of civil liberty, the desire of self‑preservation, and every kind of disposition to repel injuries, or to obtain the redress of the most intolerable grievances.

The example of the primitive christians is not binding upon others any farther than it is conformable to the scriptures; and the circumstances in which they were placed were totally different from those of the protestants in Scotland, and in other countries, at the time of the Reformation. The fathers often indulge in oratorical exaggerations when speaking of the numbers of the christians; nor is there any satisfactory evidence that they ever approached near to a majority of the Roman empire, during the time that they were exposed to persecution.

“If thou mayst be made free, use it rather,” says the Apostle; a maxim which is applicable, by just analogy, to political as well as domestic freedom. The christian religion natively tends to cherish and diffuse a spirit favourable to civil liberty, and this, in its turn, has the most happy influence upon christianity, which never flourished extensively, and for a long period, in any country where despotism prevailed. It must therefore be the duty of every christian to exert himself for the acquisition and defence of this invaluable blessing. Christianity ought not to be propagated by force of arms; but the external liberty of professing it may be vindicated in that way both against foreign invaders and against domestic tyrants. If the free exercise of their religion, or their right to remove religious abuses, enter into the grounds of the struggle which a nation maintains against oppressive rulers, the cause becomes of vastly more importance, its justice is more unquestionable, and it is still more worthy, not only of their prayers and petitions, but of their blood and treasure, than if it had been maintained solely for the purpose of securing their fortunes, or of acquiring some mere worldly privilege. And to those whose minds are not warped by prejudice, and who do not labour under a confusion of ideas on the subject, it must surely appear paradoxical to assert, that, while God has granted to subjects a right to take the sword of just defence for securing objects of a temporary and inferior nature, he has prohibited them from using this remedy, and left them at the mercy of every lawless despot, with respect to a concern the most important of all, whether it be viewed as relating to his own honour, or to the welfare of mankind.

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Those who judge of the propriety of any measure from the success with which it is accompanied, will be disposed to condemn the suspension of the queen regent. Soon after this step was taken, the affairs of the Congregation began to wear a gloomy aspect. The messenger whom they sent to Berwick to receive a remittance from the English court, was intercepted on his return, and rifled of the treasure; their soldiers mutinied for want of pay; they were repulsed in a premature assault upon the fortifications of Leith, and worsted in a skirmish with the French troops; the secret emissaries of the regent were too successful among them; their numbers daily decreased; and the remainder, disunited, dispirited and dismayed, came to the resolution of abandoning Edinburgh on the evening of the 5th of November, and retreated with precipitation and disgrace to Stirling.

Amidst the universal dejection produced by these disasters, the spirit of Knox remained unsubdued. On the day after their arrival at Stirling, he mounted the pulpit, and delivered a discourse, which had a wonderful effect in rekindling the zeal and courage of the Congregation. Their faces (he said) were confounded, their enemies triumphed, their hearts had quaked for fear, and still remained oppressed with sorrow and shame. Why had God thus dejected them? The situation of their affairs required plain language, and he would use it. In the present distressed state of their minds, they were in danger of attributing these misfortunes to a wrong cause, and of imagining that they had offended in taking the sword of self‑defence into their hands; just as the tribes of Israel did, when twice discomfited in the war which they undertook, by divine direction, against their brethren the Benjamites. Having divided the Congregation into two classes, those who had been embarked in this cause from the beginning, and those who had lately acceded to it, he proceeded to point out what he considered as blameable in the conduct of each. The former (he said) had laid aside that humility and dependence upon divine providence which they had discovered when their number was small; and, since they were joined by the Hamiltons, had become elated, secure, and self‑confident. “But wherein had my lord duke and his friends offended? I am uncertain if my lord’s grace has unfeignedly repented of his assistance to these murderers, unjustly pursuing us. Yea, I am uncertain if he has repented of that innocent blood of Christ’s blessed martyrs, which was shed in his default. But let it be that so he has done (as I hear that he has confessed his fault before the lords and brethren of the Congregation); yet I am assured that neither he, nor yet his friends, did feel before this time the anguish and grief of heart which we felt, when in their blind fury they pursued us. And therefore God hath justly permitted both them and us to fall in this fearful confusion at once,—us, for that we put our trust and confidence in man, and them, because they should feel in their own hearts how bitter was the cup which they made others drink before them.” After exhorting all to amendment of life, to prayers, and works of charity, he concluded with an animating address. “God,” he said, “often suffered the wicked to triumph for a while, and exposed his chosen congregation to mockery, dangers, and apparent destruction, in order to abase their self‑confidence, and induce them to look to himself for deliverance and victory. If they turned unfeignedly to the Eternal, he no more doubted that their present distress would be converted into joy, and followed by success, than he doubted that Israel was finally victorious over the Benjamites, after being twice repulsed with ignominy. The cause in which they were engaged would prevail in Scotland, in spite of all opposition. It was the eternal truth of the eternal God which they maintained; it might be oppressed for a time, but would ultimately triumph.”460

The audience, who had entered the church in deep despondency, left it with renovated courage. In the afternoon the council met, and, after prayer by the Reformer, unanimously agreed to despatch William Maitland of Lethington to London, to supplicate more effectual assistance from Elizabeth. In the mean time, as they were unable to keep the field, it was agreed that they should divide, and that the one half of the council should remain at Glasgow, and the other at St Andrews. Knox was appointed to attend the latter in the double capacity of preacher and secretary. The French having, in the beginning of the year 1560, penetrated into Fife, he encouraged that small band, which, under the earl of Arran, and the prior of St Andrews, bravely resisted their progress, until the appearance of the English fleet compelled the enemy to retreat with precipitation.461

The disaster which obliged the protestant army to raise the siege of Leith, and to evacuate Edinburgh, turned out eventually to the advantage of their cause. It induced the English court to abandon the line of cautious policy which they had hitherto pursued. Maitland’s embassy to London was successful; and, on the 27th of February, 1560, Elizabeth concluded a formal treaty with the lords of the Congregation, by which she engaged to send an army into Scotland, to assist them in expelling the French forces. Being informed of this treaty, the queen regent resolved to disperse the troops which were collected at Glasgow under the duke of Chastelherault, before the English army could arrive. On the 7th of March, the French, amounting to two thousand foot, and three hundred horse, issued from Leith, and, proceeding by Linlithgow and Kirkintilloch, suddenly appeared before Glasgow. Having reduced the episcopal castle, they were preparing to advance to Hamilton, when they received a message from the queen regent, informing them that the English army had begun its march into Scotland; upon which they relinquished their design, and returned to Leith, carrying along with them a number of prisoners and a considerable booty.462 In the beginning of April, the English army joined the forces of the Congregation. The French shut themselves up within the fortifications of Leith, which was invested both by sea and land; and the queen regent, who had for some time been in a declining state of health, was received by lord Erskine into the castle of Edinburgh, where she died during the siege of Leith.

These proceedings were viewed with deep interest by the court of France. Henry II., having died in July 1559, was succeeded by Francis II., the husband of the young queen of Scots; in consequence of which, the administration of affairs fell entirely into the hands of the duke of Guise and the cardinal of Lorrain. They employed every art of political intrigue to prevent the queen of England from giving assistance to the Scottish Congregation, and to prevail on her to desert them, after she had undertaken their protection. Nor were they altogether unsuccessful in their attempts. Elizabeth, partly from extreme caution and parsimony, and partly from the influence of some of her counsellors, was induced to listen to their plausible proposals; she delayed the march of her army into Scotland, and after the siege of Leith was commenced, suspended the military operations, and engaged in premature negotiations for peace. This last step justly alarmed the Congregation; and while they neglected no means to persuade the English court to perform the stipulations of the late treaty, they prepared for the worst, by renewing their covenant among themselves.

Elizabeth at last listened to the advice of her ablest ministers, and resolved to prosecute the war with vigour. No sooner did she evince this determination than the French court yielded to all her demands. The armament which they had lately fitted out at great expense for Scotland had been dispersed by a storm; the frith of Forth was blocked up by an English fleet; and a confederacy had been formed among a number of the nobility in France, to remove the princes of Lorrain from the administration of public affairs, and to free the protestants in that kingdom from the severe persecutions to which they had hitherto been exposed.463 Influenced by these circumstances,the French cabinet sent plenipotentiaries to Edinburgh, who concluded a treaty with England, by which the Scottish differences were also adjusted. By this treaty it was provided, that the French troops should immediately be removed from Scotland; that an amnesty should be granted to all who had been engaged in the late resistance to the queen regent; that the principal grievances of which they complained in the civil administration should be redressed; that a free parliament should be held to settle the other affairs of the kingdom; and that, during the absence of their sovereigns, the government should be administered by a council to be chosen partly by Francis and Mary, and partly by the estates of the nation. The treaty was signed on the 7th of July; on the 16th, the French army embarked at Leith, and the English troops began their march into their own country; and on the 19th, the Congregation assembled in St Giles’s church, to return solemn thanks to God for the restoration of peace, and the success which had crowned their exertions.464 In this manner terminated the civil war which attended the Scottish Reformation, after it had continued for twelve months, with less rancour and bloodshed than have distinguished any other contest of a similar kind.

During the continuance of the war, the protestant preachers had been assiduous in disseminating knowledge through all parts of the kingdom, and their success was equal to their diligence. They had received a considerable accession to their number from the ranks of their opponents. While we venerate those men who enlisted under the banners of truth when her friends were few, and who boldly took the field in her defence when the victory was yet dubious and distant, and while we cheerfully award to them the highest meed of honour,—let us not load with heavy censure, or even deprive of all praise, such as, less enlightened, or less courageous, were tardy in appearing for the cause. He who “knew what is in man,” has taught us not to reject such disciples, in the dawn of light, and in perilous times. Nicodemus, who at first “came to Jesus by night,” and Joseph of Arimathea, who was his disciple, “but secretly for fear of the Jews,” afterwards avouched their faith in him, and obtained the honour of embalming and interring his body, when all his early followers had forsaken him and fled. Several of the Scottish clergy, who were favourable to the protestant doctrine, had contrived to retain their places in the church, by concealing their sentiments, or by securing the favour of some powerful patron. Of this class were John Winram, sub-prior of the abbey of St Andrews, Adam Herriot, a friar of that abbey, John Spottiswood, parson of Calder, and John Carsewell, rector of Kilmartine. In the gradual diffusion of knowledge through the nation, the minds of many who were attending the schools had been also enlightened; among whom were David Lindsay, Andrew Hay, Robert Montgomery, Patrick Adamson, and Robert and Archibald Hamilton. During the year 1559, these men came forward as auxiliaries to the first protestant preachers; and so successful were they in instructing the people, that the French would have found it extremely difficult to support the ancient superstition, though they had proved victorious in the military contest.

On the other hand, the exertions of the popish clergy had been feeble in the extreme. Too corrupt to think of reforming their manners, too illiterate to be capable of defending their errors, they placed their forlorn hope on the success of the French arms, and looked forward to the issue of the war as involving the establishment or the ruin of their religion. The bishop of Amiens, who came to Scotland in the double capacity of ambassador from the French court and papal legate, was accompanied by three doctors of the Sorbonne, who gave out that they would confound the reformed ministers, and bring back the people whom they had misled to the bosom of the church, by the force of argument and persuasion. Lesley boasts of the success which attended their exertions; but there is good reason for thinking, that these foreign divines confined themselves to the easier task of instructing the Scottish clergy to perform the religious service with greater solemnity, and to purify the churches, in a canonical manner, from the pollution which they had contracted by the profane worship of heretics.465 One effort, however, was made by the popish clergy to support their sinking cause, which, if it had succeeded, would have done more to retrieve their reputation than all the arguments of the Sorbonists; and, as this was the last attempt of the kind that ever was made in Scotland, the reader may be gratified with the following account of it.

In the neighbourhood of Musselburgh was a chapel dedicated to our Lady of Loretto, the sanctity of which was increased from its having been the favourite abode of the celebrated Thomas the Hermit. To this sacred place the inhabitants of Scotland, from time immemorial, had repaired in pilgrimage, to present their offerings to the Virgin, and to experience the efficacy of her prayers, and the healing virtue of the wonder‑working “Hermit of Lareit.”466 In the course of the year 1559, public notice was given by the friars, that they intended to put the truth of their religion to the proof, by performing a miracle at this chapel upon a young man who had been born blind. On the day appointed, a vast concourse of spectators assembled from all parts of Lothian. The young man, accompanied with a solemn procession of monks, was conducted to a scaffold, erected on the outside of the chapel, and was exhibited to the multitude. Many of them knew him to be the blind man whom they had often seen begging, and whose necessities they had relieved; all looked on him, and pronounced him stone blind. The friars then proceeded to their devotions with great fervency, invoking the assistance of the Virgin, at whose shrine they stood, and that of all the saints whom they honoured; and after some time spent in prayers and religious ceremonies, the blind man opened his eyes, to the astonishment of the spectators. Having returned thanks to the friars and their saintly patrons for this wonderful cure, he was allowed to go down from the scaffold to gratify the curiosity of the people, and to receive their alms.

It happened that there was among the crowd a gentleman of Fife, Robert Colville of Cleish,467 who, from his romantic bravery, was usually called Squire Meldrum, in allusion to a person of that name who had been celebrated by Sir David Lindsay. He was of protestant principles, but his wife was a Roman catholic, and, being pregnant at this time, had sent a servant with a present to the chapel of Loretto, to procure the assistance of the Virgin in her labour. The squire was too gallant to hurt his lady’s feelings by prohibiting the present from being sent off, but he resolved to prevent the superstitious offering, and with that view had come to Musselburgh. He witnessed the miracle of curing the blind man with the distrust natural to a protestant, and determined, if possible, to detect the imposition before he left the place. Wherefore, having sought out the young man from the crowd, he put a piece of money into his hand, and persuaded him to accompany him to his lodgings in Edinburgh. Taking him into a private room, and locking the door, he told him plainly that he was convinced he had engaged in a wicked conspiracy with the friars to impose on the credulity of the people, and at last drew from him the secret of the story. When a boy, he had been employed to tend the cattle belonging to the nuns of Sciennes, in the vicinity of Edinburgh, and had attracted their attention by a peculiar faculty which he had of turning up the white of his eyes, and of keeping them in this position, so as to appear quite blind. Certain friars in the city, having come to the knowledge of this fact, conceived the design of making it subservient to their purposes; and, having prevailed on the sisters of Sciennes to part with the poor boy, lodged him in one of their cells. By daily practice he became an adept in the art of counterfeiting blindness; and after he had remained so long in concealment as not to be recognised by his former acquaintance, he was sent forth to beg as a blind pauper; the friars having previously bound him, by a solemn vow, not to reveal the secret. To confirm his narrative, he “played his pavie” before the squire, by “flypping up the lid of his eyes, and casting up the white,” so as to appear as blind as he did on the scaffold at Loretto. The gentleman laid before him the iniquity of his conduct, and told him that he must next day repeat the whole story publicly at the cross of Edinburgh; and, as this would expose him to the vengeance of the friars, he engaged to become his protector, and to retain him as a servant in his house. The young man complied with his directions, and Cleish, with his drawn sword in his hand, having stood by him till he had finished his confession, placed him on the same horse with himself, and carried him off to Fife. The detection of this imposture was quickly published through the country, and covered the friars with confusion. My author does not say whether it cured Lady Cleish of her superstition, but I shall afterwards have occasion to notice its influence in opening the eyes of one who became a distinguished promoter of the Reformation.468

The treaty which put an end to the civil war in Scotland, made no particular settlement respecting the religious differences,469 but it was, on that very account, the more fatal to popery. The protestants were left in the possession of authority; and they were now by far the most powerful party in the nation, both as to rank and numbers. With the exception of those places which had been occupied by the queen regent and her foreign auxiliaries, the Roman catholic worship was almost universally deserted throughout the kingdom, and no provision was made in the treaty for its restoration. The firm hold which it once had on the opinions and affections of the people was completely loosened; it was supported by force alone; and the moment that the French troops embarked, that fabric which had stood for ages in Scotland fell to the ground. Its feeble and dismayed priests ceased of their own accord from the celebration of its rites; and the reformed service was peaceably set up, wherever ministers could be found to perform it. The parliament, when it entered upon the consideration of the state of religion, as one of the points, undecided by the commissioners, which had been left to them,470 had little else to do but to sanction what the nation had previously done, by legally abolishing the popish, and establishing the protestant religion.

When the circumstances in which they were assembled, and the affairs on which they were called to deliberate, are taken into consideration, this must be regarded as the most important meeting of the estates of the kingdom that had ever been held in Scotland. It engrossed the attention of the nation, and the eyes of Europe were fixed on its proceedings. The parliament met on the 10th of July, but, agreeably to the terms of the treaty, it was prorogued, without entering on business, until the first day of August. Although a great concourse of people resorted to Edinburgh on that occasion, yet no tumult or disturbance of the public peace occurred. Many of the lords spiritual and temporal, who were attached to popery, absented themselves; but the chief patrons of the old religion, as the archbishop of St Andrews, and the bishops of Dumblane and Dunkeld, countenanced the assembly by their presence, and were allowed to act with freedom as lords of parliament. There is one fact in its constitution and proceedings which strikingly illustrates the influence of the Reformation upon political liberty. In the reign of James I. the lesser barons had been exempted from personal attendance on parliament, and permitted to elect representatives in their different shires. But a privilege which in modern times is so eagerly coveted, was then so little prized, that, except in a few instances, no representatives from the shires had appeared in parliament,471 and the lesser barons had almost forfeited their right by neglecting to exercise it. At this time, however, they assembled at Edinburgh, and agreed upon a petition to the parliament, claiming to be restored to their ancient privilege. The petition was granted, and, in consequence of this, about a hundred gentlemen took their seats.472

The business of religion was introduced by a petition presented by a number of protestants of different ranks, in which, after rehearsing their former endeavours to procure the removal of the corruptions which had infected the church, they requested parliament to use the power which providence had now put into their hands for effecting this great and urgent work. They craved three things in general,—that the anti‑christian doctrine maintained in the popish church should be discarded; that means should be used to restore purity of worship, and primitive discipline; and that the ecclesiastical revenues, which had been engrossed by a corrupt and indolent hierarchy, should be applied to the support of a pious and active ministry, to the promotion of learning, and to the relief of the poor. They declared, that they were ready to substantiate the justice of all their demands, and, in particular, to prove, that those who arrogated to themselves the name of clergy were destitute of all right to be accounted ministers of religion, and that, from the tyranny which they had exercised, and their vassalage to the court of Rome, they could not be safely tolerated, and far less intrusted with power, in a reformed commonwealth.473

In answer to the first demand, the parliament required the reformed ministers to lay before them a summary of doctrine which they could prove to be consonant with the scriptures, and which they desired to have established. The ministers were not unprepared for this task; and, in the course of four days, they presented a Confession of Faith, as the product of their joint labours, and an expression of their unanimous judgment. It agreed with the confessions which had been published by other reformed churches. Professing belief in the common articles of Christianity respecting the divine nature, the trinity, the creation of the world, the origin of evil, and the person of the Saviour, which were retained by the church of Rome, in opposition to the errors broached by ancient heretics, it condemned not only the idolatrous and superstitious tenets of that church, but also its gross depravation of the doctrine of scripture respecting the state of fallen man, and the method of his recovery. It declared that by “original sin was the image of God defacit in man, and he and his posteritie of nature become enemies to God, slaifis to Sathan, and seruandis to sin:”—that “all our salvatioun springs fra the eternall and immutabill decree of God, wha of meir grace electit us in Christ Jesus, his Sone, before the foundatione of the warld was laid:”—that it behoves us “to apprehend Christ Jesus, with his justice and satisfactioun, wha is the end and accomplischement of the law, by whome we ar set at this libertie, that the curse and maledictioun of God fall not upon us:”—that “as God the Father creatit us whan we war not, as his Sone our Lord Jesus redemit us whan we were enemies to him, sa alswa the Haly Gaist dois sanctifie and regenerat us, without all respect of ony merite proceeding fra us, be it befoir or be it efter our regeneratioun,—to speik this ane thing yit in mair plaine wordis, as we willinglie spoyle ourselfis of all honour and gloir of our awin creatioun and redemptioun, sa do we alswa of our regeneratioun and sanctificatioun, for of our selfis we ar not sufficient to think ane gude thocht, bot he wha hes begun the wark in us is onlie he that continewis us in the same, to the praise and glorie of his undeservit grace:”—and, in fine, it declared that, although good works proceed “not from our fre‑will, but the Spirit of the Lord Jesus,” and although those that boast of the merit of their own works, “boist themselfis of that whilk is nocht,” yet “blasphemie it is to say, that Christ abydis in the hartis of sic as in whome thair is no spirite of sanctificatioun; and all wirkers of iniquitie have nouther trew faith, nouther ony portioun of the Spirite of the Lord Jesus, sa lang as obstinatlie they continew in thair wickitnes.”474

The Confession was read first before the lords of Articles, and afterwards before the whole parliament. The protestant ministers attended in the house to defend it, if attacked, and to give satisfaction to the members respecting any point which might appear dubious. Those who had objections to it were formally required to state them. And the farther consideration of it was adjourned to a subsequent day, that none might pretend that an undue advantage had been taken of him, or that a matter of such importance had been concluded precipitately. On the 17th of August, the parliament resumed the subject, and, previous to the vote, the Confession was again read, article by article.475 The earl of Athole, and lords Somerville and Borthwick, were the only persons of the temporal estate who voted in the negative, assigning this as their reason, “We will beleve as our forefatheris belevit.”476 “The bischopis spak nothing.”477 After the vote establishing the Confession of faith, the earl Marischal rose, and declared, that the silence of the clergy had confirmed him in his belief of the protestant doctrine; and he protested, that if any of the ecclesiastical estate should afterwards oppose the doctrine which had just been received, they should be entitled to no credit; seeing, after full knowledge of it, and ample time for deliberation, they had allowed it to pass without the smallest opposition or contradiction.478 On the 24th of August, the parliament abolished the papal jurisdiction, prohibited, under certain penalties, the celebration of mass, and rescinded all the laws formerly made in support of the Roman catholic church, and against the reformed faith.479

Thus did the reformed religion advance in Scotland, from small beginnings, and amidst great opposition, until it attained a parliamentary establishment. Besides the influence of heaven secretly accompanying the labours of the preachers and confessors of the truth, the serious and inquisitive reader will trace the wise arrangements of providence in that concatenation of events which contributed to its rise, preservation, and increase,—by overruling the caprice, the ambition, the avarice, and the interested policy of princes and cabinets, many of whom had nothing less in view than to favour that cause, which they were so instrumental in promoting.

The breach of Henry VIII. of England with the Roman see, awakened the attention of the inhabitants of the northern part of the island to a controversy which had formerly been carried on at too great a distance to interest them, and led not a few to desire a reformation more improved than the model which that monarch had held out to them. The premature death of James V. of Scotland saved the protestants from destruction. During the short period in which they received the countenance of civil authority, at the commencement of Arran’s administration, the seeds of the reformed doctrine were so widely spread, and took such deep root, as to be able to resist the violent measures which the regent, after his recantation, employed to extirpate them. Those who were driven from the country by persecution found an asylum in England, under the decidedly protestant government of Edward VI. After his death, the alliance of England with Spain, and of Scotland with France, the two great contending powers on the continent, prevented that concert between the two courts which might have proved fatal to the protestant religion in Britain. While the cruelties of the English queen drove protestant preachers into Scotland, the political schemes of the queen regent induced her to favour them, and to connive at the propagation of their opinions. At the critical moment when the latter had accomplished her favourite designs, and was preparing to crush the Reformation, Elizabeth ascended the throne of England, and was induced, by political no less than religious considerations, to support the Scottish reformers. The French court was no less bent on suppressing them, and, having lately concluded peace with Spain, was left at liberty to direct its undivided attention to the accomplishment of that object; but at this critical moment, those intestine dissensions, which continued so long to desolate France, broke out, and forced its ministers to accede to that treaty, which put an end to French influence, and the papal religion, in Scotland.

NOTES
TO
VOLUME FIRST.