Chapter II: Part 2

The reformed doctrine had made considerable progress in Scotland before it was embraced by Knox. Patrick Hamilton, a youth of royal lineage,[40] obtained {28} 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 {29} 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,” {30} 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 {31} 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 {32} 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 {33} 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 {34} 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, {35} 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 {36} 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]

{37}
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 {38} 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]

{39} 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 {40} 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 {41} 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 {42} 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 {43} 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 {44} 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 {45} 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]

{46} 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, {47} 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 {48} 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 {49} 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. {50} 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 {51} 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 {52} 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 {53} 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]

{54} 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 {55} 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 {56} 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 {57} 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 {58} 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 Annand[83] 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 {59} 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 {60} 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 {61} 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 {62} 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 {63} 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 {64} 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 {65} 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 {66} 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 {67} 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 {68} were accustomed to treat those whom they regarded as heretics.[91]