Chapter III: Appendix: , 374 (2)

He resolved, therefore, vigilantly to watch her proceedings, and to give timely warning of any danger which might result from them to the reformed interest; and the more that he perceived the zeal of the protestant nobles to cool, and their jealousy to be laid asleep by the winning arts of the queen, the more frequently and loudly did he sound the alarm. Vehement and harsh as his expressions often were――violent, seditious, and insufferable, as his sermons and prayers have been pronounced to be, I have no hesitation in saying, that, as the public peace was never disturbed by them, so they were useful to the public safety, and a principal means of warding off for a time those confusions in which the country was afterwards involved, and which brought on the ultimate ruin {41} of the infatuated queen. His uncourtly and rough manner was not, indeed, calculated to gain upon her mind, (nor is there any reason to think that an opposite manner would have had this effect,) and his admonitions often irritated her; but they obliged her to act with greater reserve and moderation; and they operated, to an indescribable degree, in arousing and keeping awake the zeal and the fears of the nation, which, at that period, were the two great safeguards of the protestant religion in Scotland. We may form an idea of the effect produced by his pulpit‑orations, from the account of the English ambassador, who was one of his constant hearers. “Where your honour,” says he, in a letter to Cecil, “exhorteth us to stoutness, I assure you the voice of one man is able, in an hour, to put more life in us, than six hundred trumpets continually blustering in our ears.”[52]

The Reformer was not ignorant that some of his friends thought him too severe in his language, nor was he always disposed to vindicate the expressions which he employed. Still, however, he was persuaded that the times required the utmost plainness; and he {42} was afraid that snares lurked under the smoothness which was recommended and practised by courtiers. Cecil having given him an advice on this head in one of his letters, Knox replied: “Men deliting to swym betwix two waters have often compleaned upon my severitie. I do fear that that which men terme lenitie and dulcenes, do bring upon themselves and others more fearful destruction, than yit hath ensewed the vehemency of any preacher within this realme.”[53]

That abatement of zeal which he had dreaded from “the holy water of the court,” soon began to appear among the protestant leaders. The general assemblies of the church were a great eye‑sore to the queen, who was very desirous to have them put down. At the first General Assembly held after her arrival, the courtiers, through her influence, absented themselves, and when challenged for this, began to dispute the propriety of such conventions without her majesty’s pleasure. On this point, there was sharp reasoning between Knox and Maitland, who was now made secretary of state. “Take from us the liberty of assemblies, and take from us the gospel,” said the Reformer. “If the liberty of the church must depend upon her allowance or disallowance, we shall want not only assemblies, but also the preaching of the gospel.” It was proposed that the Book of Discipline should be ratified by the queen; but this was keenly opposed by the secretary. “How many of those that {43} subscribed that book will be subject to it?” said he, scoffingly. “All the godly,” it was answered. “Will the duke?” said he. “If he will not,” replied lord Ochiltree, “I wish that his name were scraped, not only out of that book, but also out of our number and company; for to what end shall men subscribe, and never mean to keep word of that which they promise?” Maitland said, that many subscribed it, _in fide parentum_, implicitly. Knox replied, that the scoff was as untrue as it was unbecoming; for the book was publicly read, and its different heads discussed, for a number of days, and no man was required to subscribe what he did not understand. “Stand content,” said one of the courtiers; “that book will not be obtained.”――“And let God require the injury which the commonwealth shall sustain, at the hands of those who hinder it,” replied the Reformer.[54]

He was still more indignant at their management in settling the provision for the ministers of the church. Hitherto they had lived chiefly on the benevolence of their hearers, and many of them had scarcely the means of subsistence; but repeated complaints having obliged the privy council to take up the affair, they came at last to a determination, that the ecclesiastical revenues should be divided into three parts; that two of these should be given to the ejected popish clergy; and that the third part should be divided between the court and the protestant ministry![55] The persons {44} appointed to “modify the stipends,”[56] were disposed to gratify the queen, and her demands were readily answered, while the sums allotted to the ministers were as ill paid as they were paltry and inadequate. “Weall!” exclaimed Knox, when he heard of this disgraceful arrangement, “if the end of this ordour, pretendit to be takin for sustentatioun of the ministers, be happie, my judgement failes me. I sie twa pairtis freelie gevin to the devill, and the third mon be devyded betwix God and the devill. Who wald have thocht, that when Joseph reulled in Egypt, his brethren sould have travellit for victualles, and have returned with emptie sackes unto thair families? O happie servands of the devill, and miserabill servants of Jesus Christ, if efter this lyf thair wer not hell and heavin!”[57] At a conference held on this subject, {45} Maitland complained of the ingratitude of the ministers, who did not acknowledge the queen’s liberality to them. “Assuredly,” replied Knox, with a derisive smile, “such as receive any thing of the queen are unthankful, if they acknowledge it not; but whether the ministers be of that rank or not, I greatly doubt. Has the queen better title to that which she usurps, be it in giving to others, or in taking to herself, than such as crucified Christ had to divide his garments among them? Let the papists who have the two parts, some that have their thirds free, and some that have gotten abbacies and feu‑lands, thank the queen; the poor preachers will not yet flatter for feeding their bellies. To your dumb dogs, formerly ten thousand was not enough; but to the servants of Christ, that painfully preach his evangell, a thousand pound! how can that be sustained?”――“These words,” he himself tells us, “were judged proud and intolerable, and engendered no small displeasure to the speaker.”[58]

Knox gave vent to his feelings on this subject the more freely, as his complaints could not be imputed to personal motives; for his own stipend, though moderate, was liberal when compared with those of the most of his brethren. From the time of his last return to Scotland, until the conclusion of the war, he had been indebted to the liberality of individuals for the support of his family. After that period, he {46} lodged in the house of David Forrest, a burgess of Edinburgh, from which he removed to the lodging which had belonged to Durie, abbot of Dunfermline. As soon as he began to preach statedly in the city, the town council assigned him an annual stipend of two hundred pounds, which he was entitled to receive quarterly; and they also paid his house‑rent, and his board, during the time that he had resided with Forrest. Subsequent to the settlement made by the privy council, it would seem that he received, at least, a part of his income from the common fund allotted to the ministers of the church; but the good town had still an opportunity of testifying their generosity, by supplying the deficiencies of the legal allowance. Indeed, the uniform attention of the town council to his external support and accommodation, was honourable to them, and deserves to be recorded to their commendation.[59]

In the beginning of the year 1562, he went to Angus to preside in the election and admission of John Erskine of Dun, as superintendent of Angus and Mearns. That respectable baron was one of those whom the first General Assembly declared “apt and able to minister;”[60] and having already contributed in different ways to the advancement of the Reformation, he now devoted himself to the service of the church, in a laborious employment, at a time when she stood eminently in need of the assistance of all {47} the learned and pious. Knox had formerly presided at the installation of John Spotswood, as superintendent of Lothian.[61]

The influence of our Reformer appears from his being employed on different occasions to act as umpire and mediator in disputes of a civil nature among the protestants. He was frequently requested to intercede with the town council in behalf of such of the inhabitants as had subjected themselves to punishment by their disorderly conduct.[62] Soon after his return to Scotland, he had composed a domestic variance between the earl and countess of Argyle.[63] In the year 1561, he had been employed as arbitrator in a difference between Archibald, earl of Angus, and his brothers.[64] And he was now urged by the earl of Bothwell to assist in removing a deadly feud which subsisted between him and the earl of Arran. He was averse to interfere in this business, which had already baffled the authority of the privy council;[65] but at the desire of friends, he yielded, and, after considerable pains, had the satisfaction of bringing the parties to an amicable interview, at which they mutually promised to bury their former differences. But all the fair hopes which he had formed from this reconciliation were speedily blasted. For, {48} in the course of a few days, Arran came to him in great agitation, with the information that Bothwell had endeavoured to engage him in a conspiracy, to seize upon the person of the queen, and to kill the prior of St Andrews, Maitland, and the rest of her counsellors. Knox does not seem to have given much credit to this information; he even endeavoured to prevent Arran from making it public; in this, however, he did not succeed, and both noblemen were imprisoned. It soon after became evident that Arran was lunatic, but the fears of the courtiers show that they did not altogether disbelieve his accusation, and that they suspected that Bothwell had formed a design of which his future conduct proved him not incapable.[66]

In the month of May, Knox had another interview with the queen, on the following occasion. The family of Guise were making the most vigorous efforts to regain that ascendency in the French councils of which they had been deprived since the death of Francis II.; and, as zeal for the catholic religion was the cloak under which they concealed their ambitious designs, they began by stirring up persecution against the protestants. The massacre of Vassy, in the beginning of March, was a prelude to this; in which the duke of Guise and cardinal of Lorrain attacked, with an armed force, a congregation peaceably assembled for worship, killed a number of them, and {49} wounded and mutilated others, not excepting women and children.[67] Intelligence of the success which attended the measures of her uncles was brought to queen Mary, who immediately after gave a splendid ball to her foreign servants, at which the dancing was prolonged to a late hour.

Knox was advertised of the festivities in the palace, and had no doubt that they were occasioned by the accounts which the queen had received from France. He always felt a lively interest in the concerns of the French protestants, with many of whom he was intimately acquainted; and he entertained a very bad opinion of the princes of Lorrain. In his sermon on the following Sabbath, after discoursing of the dignity of magistrates, and the obedience which was due to them, he proceeded to lament the abuse which the greater part of rulers made of their power, and introduced some severe strictures upon the vices to which they were commonly addicted, their oppression, ignorance, hatred of virtue, attachment to bad company, and fondness for foolish pleasures. Glancing at the amusements which were common in the palace, he said that princes were more exercised in dancing and music than in reading or hearing the word of God, and delighted more in fiddlers and flatterers than in the company of wise and grave men, who were capable of giving them wholesome counsel. As to dancing, he said, that, although he did not find it praised in scripture, and profane writers had termed {50} it a gesture more becoming mad than sober men, yet he would not utterly condemn it, provided those who practised it did not neglect the duties of their station, and did not dance, like the Philistines, from joy at the misfortunes of God’s people. If they were guilty of such conduct, their mirth would soon be converted into sorrow. Information of this discourse was quickly conveyed to the queen, with many exaggerations; and the preacher was next day ordered to attend at the palace. Being conveyed into the royal chamber, where the queen sat with her maids of honour and principal counsellors, he was accused of having spoken of her majesty irreverently, and in a manner calculated to bring her under the contempt and hatred of her subjects.

After the queen had made a long speech on that theme, he was allowed to state his defence. He told her majesty, that she had been treated as persons usually were who refused to attend the preaching of the word of God; she had been deceived by the false reports of flatterers. For, if she had heard the calumniated discourse, he did not believe she could have been offended with any thing that he had said. She would now, therefore, be pleased to hear him repeat, as exactly as he could, what he had preached yesterday. Mary was obliged for once to listen to a protestant sermon. Having finished the recapitulation of his discourse, he said, “If any man, madam, will say that I spake more, let him presently accuse me; for I think I have not only touched the sum, but the very words as I spake them.” Several of the company, {51} who had heard the sermon, attested that he had given a fair and accurate account of it. After turning round to the informers, who were dumb, the queen told him, that his words, though sharp enough as related by himself, had been reported to her in a different way. She added, that she knew that her uncles and he were of a different religion, and therefore did not blame him for having no good opinion of them; but if he heard any thing about her conduct which displeased him, he ought to come to herself privately, and she would willingly listen to his admonitions. Knox easily saw through this proposal; and, from what he already knew of Mary’s character, was convinced that she had no inclination to receive his private instructions, but wished merely to induce him to refrain in his sermons from every thing that might be displeasing to the court. He replied, that he was willing to do any thing for her majesty’s contentment, which was consistent with his office; if her grace chose to attend the public sermons, she would have an opportunity of knowing what pleased or displeased him in her and in others; or if she chose to appoint a time when she would hear the substance of the doctrine which he preached in public, he would most gladly wait upon her grace’s pleasure, time, and place; but to come and wait at her chamber‑door, and then to have liberty only to whisper in her ear what people thought and said of her, that would neither his conscience nor his office permit him to do. “For,” added he, in a strain which he sometimes used even on serious occasions, {52} “albeit, at your grace’s commandment, I am heir now, yit can I not tell what uther men shall judge of me, that, at this time of day, am absent from my buke, and waitting upon the court.”――“Ye will not alwayes be at your buke,” said the queen, pettishly, and turned her back. As he left the room “with a reasonable merry countenance,” he overheard one of the popish attendants saying, “He is not afraid!”――“Why should the plesing face of a _gentilwoman_ afray me?” said he, regarding them with a sarcastic scowl; “I have luiked in the faces of mony angry _men_, and yit have not bene affrayed above measour.”[68]

There was at that time but one place of worship in the city of Edinburgh.[69] The number of inhabitants was, indeed, small, when compared with its present population; but still they must have formed a very large congregation. St Giles’s church, the place then used for worship, was capacious; for we learn that, on some occasions, three thousand persons assembled in it to hear sermon.[70] In this church, Knox had, since 1560, performed all the parts of ministerial duty, without any other assistant than John Cairns, who acted as reader.[71] He preached twice every Sabbath, and thrice on other days of the week.[72] He met regularly once every week with his {53} kirk‑session for discipline,[73] and with the assembly of the neighbourhood for the exercise on the scriptures. He attended, besides, the meetings of the provincial synod and general assembly; and at almost every meeting of the latter, he received an appointment to visit and preach in some distant part of the country. These labours must have been oppressive to a constitution which was already much impaired; especially as he did not indulge in extemporaneous effusions, but devoted a part of every day to study. His parish was sensible of this; and, in April 1562, the town council came to a unanimous resolution to solicit the minister of Canongate to undertake the half of the charge. The ensuing general assembly approved of the council’s proposal, and appointed the translation to take place.[74] It was not, however, accomplished before June 1563, owing, as it would seem, to the difficulty of obtaining an additional stipend.[75]

The person who was appointed colleague to our Reformer was John Craig. A short account of this distinguished minister cannot be altogether foreign to the history of one with whom he was so strictly associated, and it will present incidents which are curious in themselves, and illustrative of the singular manner in which many of the promoters of the Reformation were fitted by providence for engaging in that great undertaking. He was born in 1512, and {54} soon after lost his father in the battle of Flodden, which proved fatal to so many families in Scotland. After finishing his education at the university of St Andrews, he went to England, and became tutor to the family of Lord Dacres; but war having broken out between England and Scotland, he returned to his native country, and entered into the order of Dominican friars. The Scottish clergy were at that time eager in making inquisition for Lutherans; and owing to the circumstance of his having been in England, or to his having dropped some expressions respecting religion which were deemed too free, Craig fell under the suspicion of heresy, and was thrown into prison. The accusation was found to be groundless, and he was set at liberty. But although still attached to the Roman catholic religion, the ignorance and bigotry of the clergy gave him such a disgust at his native country, that he left it in 1537, and, after remaining a short time in England, went to France, and from that to Italy. At the recommendation of the celebrated cardinal Pole, he was admitted among the Dominicans in the city of Bologna, and was soon raised to an honourable employment in that body. In the library of the Inquisition, which was attached to the monastery, he found a copy of Calvin’s Institutions. Being fond of books, he determined to read that work; and the consequence was, that he became a thorough convert to the reformed opinions. In the warmth of his first impressions, he could not refrain from imparting his change of sentiments to his associates, and must {55} soon have fallen a sacrifice to the vigilant guardians of the faith, had not the friendship of a father in the monastery saved him. The old man, who was a native of Scotland, represented the danger to which he exposed himself by avowing such tenets in that place, and advised him, if he was fixed in his views, to retire immediately to some protestant country. With this prudent advice he complied so far as to procure his discharge from the monastery.

At an early period of the Christian era, there were converts to the gospel “in Cæsar’s household;” and in the sixteenth century, the light of reformation penetrated into Italy, and even into the territories of the Roman pontiff. On leaving the monastery of Bologna, Craig entered as tutor into the family of a neighbouring nobleman, who had embraced protestant principles; but he had not resided long in it, when, along with his host, he was delated for heresy, seized by the familiars of the Inquisition, and carried to Rome. After being confined nine months in a noisome dungeon, he was brought to trial, and condemned to be burnt, along with some others, on the 20th of August, 1559. On the evening previous to the day appointed for their execution, the reigning pontiff, Paul IV., died; and, according to an accustomed practice on such occasions, the prisons in Rome were all thrown open. While those who were confined for debt and other civil offences were liberated, heretics, after being allowed to go without the walls of their prison, were conveyed back to their cells. A tumult, however, having been raised that night in the city, {56} Craig and his companions effected their escape, and took refuge in a house at a small distance from Rome. They had not been long there when they were followed by a company of soldiers, sent to apprehend them. On entering the house, the captain looked Craig eagerly in the face, and taking him aside, asked, if he recollected of once relieving a poor wounded soldier in the vicinity of Bologna. Craig was in too great confusion to remember the circumstance. “But I remember it,” replied the captain, “and I am the man whom you relieved, and providence has now put it in my power to return the kindness which you showed to a distressed stranger. You are at liberty; your companions I must take along with me, but, for your sake, shall show them every favour in my power.” He then gave him what money he had upon him, with directions how to make his escape.

We are not yet done with the wonderful incidents in the life of Craig. “Another accident,” says archbishop Spotswood, “befell him, which I should scarcely relate, so incredible it seemeth, if to many of good place he himself had not often repeated it as a singular testimony of God’s care of him.” In the course of his journey through Italy, while he avoided the public roads, and took a circuitous route to escape from pursuit, the money which he had received from the grateful soldier failed him. Having laid himself down by the side of a wood to ruminate on his condition, he perceived a dog approaching him with a purse in its teeth. It occurred to him that it had been sent by some evil‑disposed person who was concealed in {57} the wood, and wished to pick a quarrel with him. He therefore endeavoured to drive it away, but the animal continuing to fawn upon him, he at last took the purse, and found in it a sum of money which enabled him to prosecute his journey. Having reached Vienna, and announced himself as a Dominican, he was employed to preach before the archduke of Austria, who afterwards wore the imperial crown, under the title of Maximilian II. That discerning prince, who was not unfriendly to a religious reform, was so much pleased with the sermon, that he was desirous of retaining Craig; but the new pope, Pius IV., having heard of his reception at the Austrian capital, applied to have him sent back to Rome as a condemned heretic; upon which the archduke dismissed him with a safe‑conduct. When he arrived in England, in 1560, and was informed of the establishment of the reformed religion in his native country, he immediately repaired to Scotland, and was admitted to the ministry. Having in a great measure forgotten his native language during an absence of twenty‑four years, he preached for a short time in Latin to some of the learned in Magdalene chapel. He was afterwards appointed minister of the parish of Canongate, where he had not officiated long, till he was elected colleague to Knox.[76]

{58} The queen still persevered in the line of policy which she had adopted at her first arrival in Scotland, and employed none but protestant counsellors. She intrusted the chief direction of public affairs to the prior of St Andrews, who, in 1562, was created earl of Murray,[77] and married a daughter of the earl marischal. The marriage ceremony was performed by Knox publicly before the congregation, according to the custom at that time; and on that occasion the Reformer reminded the earl of the benefit which the church had hitherto received from his services, and exhorted him to persevere in the same course, lest, if an unfavourable change was perceived, the blame should be imputed to his wife.[78] The fact, however, was, that Knox was more afraid that Murray would be corrupted by his connexion with the court, than by his matrimonial alliance.

Although the protestants filled the cabinet, it was well known that they did not possess the affection and confidence of her majesty, and in consequence of this, various plots were laid to displace and ruin them. During the autumn of 1562, the Roman catholics in Scotland entertained great hopes of a change in their favour. After several unsuccessful attempts to cut off the principal courtiers,[79] the earl of Huntly openly {59} took arms in the north, to rescue the queen from their hands; while the archbishop of St Andrews endeavoured to unite and rouse the papists of the south. On this occasion, our Reformer acted with his usual zeal and foresight. Being appointed by the General Assembly as commissioner to visit the churches of the west, he persuaded the gentlemen of that quarter to enter into a new bond of defence. Hastening into Nithsdale and Galloway, he, by his sermons and conversation, confirmed the protestants in these places. He employed the master of Maxwell to write to the earl of Bothwell, who had escaped from confinement, and meant, it was feared, to join Huntly. He himself wrote to the duke of Chastelherault, warning him not to listen to the solicitations of his brother, the archbishop, nor accede to a conspiracy which would infallibly prove the ruin of his house. By these means the southern parts of the kingdom were preserved in a state of peace, while the vigorous measures of Murray crushed the rebellion in the north.[80] The queen expressed little satisfaction at the victory gained over Huntly, and there is every reason to think, that, if not privy to his rising, she expected to turn it to the advancement of her projects.[81] According to archbishop Spotswood, she {60} scrupled not to say, at this time, that she “hoped, before a year was expired, to have the mass and catholic profession restored through the whole kingdom.”[82]

While these hopes were indulged, the popish clergy thought it necessary to gain credit to their cause, by appearing more openly in defence of their tenets than they had lately done. They began to preach publicly in different parts of the country, and boasted that they were ready to dispute with the protestant ministers.[83]

The person who stept forward as their champion was Quintin Kennedy, uncle to the earl of Cassilis, and abbot of Crossraguel. Though his talents were not of a superior order, the abbot was certainly one of the most respectable of the popish clergy in Scotland, not only in birth, but also in regularity and decorum of conduct. He seems to have spent the greater part of his life in the same neglect of professional duty which characterised his brethren; but he was roused from his inactivity by the zeal and success of the protestant preachers, who, in the years 1556 and 1557, attacked the popish faith, and inveighed against the idleness and corruption of the clergy.[84] At an age when others retire from the field, {61} he began to rub up his long‑neglected armour, and descended into the theological arena.

His first appearance as a polemical writer was in 1558, when he published a short system of catholic tactics, under the title of _Ane Compendius Tractive_, showing “the nerrest and onlie way to establish the conscience of a Christian man,” in all matters which were in debate concerning faith and religion. This way was no other than implicit faith in the decisions of the church or clergy. When any point of religion was controverted, the scripture might be cited as a witness, but the church was the judge, whose determinations, in general councils canonically assembled, were to be humbly received and submitted to by all the faithful.[85] It was but “a barbour saying,” which the protestants had commonly in their mouths, that every man ought to examine the scriptures for himself. It was sufficient for those who did not occupy the place of teachers, that they had a general knowledge of the creed, the ten commandments, and the Lord’s prayer, according to the sense in which these were explained by the church. And “as to the sacramentis, and all other secretis of the scripture,” every Christian man ought to “stand to the judgement of his pastor, who did bear his burden in all matters doubtsome above his knowledge.”[86]

This was doubtless a very near way to stability of mind, and a most compendious mode of deciding every {62} controversy which might arise, without having recourse to examination, reasoning, or debate. But as the wilful and stubborn reformers would not submit to this easy and short mode of decision, the abbot was reluctantly obliged to enter the lists of argument with them. Accordingly, in the beginning of 1559, he challenged Willock, who was preaching in his neighbourhood, to a dispute on the sacrifice of the mass. The challenge was accepted, the time and place of meeting were fixed; but the dispute did not take place, as Kennedy refused to appear, unless his antagonist would previously engage to submit to the interpretations of scripture which had been given by the ancient doctors of the church.[87] From this time he seems to have made the mass the great subject of his study, and in 1561 wrote a book in its defence, which was answered by George Hay.[88]

On the 30th of August, 1562, the abbot read, in his chapel of Kirkoswald, a number of articles respecting the mass, purgatory, praying to saints, the use of images, and other points, which, he said, he would defend against any who should impugn them, {63} and he promised to declare his mind more fully on the following Sabbath. Knox, who was in the vicinity, came to Kirkoswald on that day, with the design of hearing the abbot, and granting him the disputation which he had courted. In the morning, he sent some gentlemen who accompanied him to acquaint Kennedy with the reason of his coming, and to desire him either to preach according to his promise, or to attend Knox’s sermon, and afterwards to state his objections to the doctrine which might be delivered. The abbot did not think it proper to appear, and Knox preached in the chapel. When he came down from the pulpit, a letter from Kennedy was put into his hand, which led to an epistolary correspondence between them, fully as curious as the dispute which followed.

The abbot wrote to Knox, that he was informed he had come to that quarter of the country “to seik disputation,” which he was so far from refusing that he “earnestlie and effectuouslie covated the samin,” and with that view should meet him next Sunday in any house in Maybole that he choosed, provided not more than twenty persons on each side were allowed to be present. The Reformer replied, that he had come to that quarter for the purpose of preaching the gospel, and not of disputing; that he was under a previous engagement to be in Dumfries on the day mentioned by the abbot, but that he would return with all convenient speed, and fix a time for meeting him. To this letter the abbot sent an answer, to which Knox merely returned a verbal message at the {64} time; but when he afterwards published the correspondence, affixed short notes to it by way of reply. The abbot proposed that they should have “familear, formall, and gentill ressoning.”――“With my whole hart I accept the condition,” replies the Reformer; “for assuredlie, my lord, (so I stile you by reason of blood, and not of office,) chiding and brawling I utterlie abhor.” To Knox’s declaration that he had come to “preach Jesus Christ crucified to be the only Saviour of the world,” the abbot answers, “Praise be to God, that was na newings in this countrie, or ye war borne.”――“I greatlie dout,” replies the Reformer, “if ever Christ Jesus wes truelie preached by a papistical prelat or monk.” As an excuse for his not preaching at Kirkoswald on the day he had promised, the abbot says, that Knox had come to the place convoyed by five or six score strangers. “I lay the night before,” says Knox, “in Mayboil, accompanied with fewer than twentie.” The abbot boasted, that Willock, at a former period, and Hay, more lately, had refused to dispute with him, until they consulted the council and their brethren. “Maister George Hay offered unto you disputation, but ye fled the barrass.” Knox wished the dispute to be conducted publicly in St John’s church, Ayr; for, says he, “I wonder with what conscience ye can require privat conference of those artikles that ye have publicklie proponed. Ye have infected the ears of the simple, ye have wounded the hartes of the godlie, and ye have spoken blasphemie in oppen audience. Let your owne conscience now be judge, if we be bound to answer you in the {65} audience of twenty or forty, of whom the one half are alreadie persuaded in the treuth, and the other perchance so addicted to your error, that they will not be content that light be called light, and darknes, darknes.”――“Ye said ane lytill afore,” answers the abbot, “ye did abhor all chiding and railing, bot nature passis nurtor with yow.”――“I will neither interchange nature nor nurtor with yow, for all the proffets of Crosraguell.”――“Gif the victorie consist in clamor or crying out,” says the abbot, objecting to a public meeting, “I wil quite you the cause but farder pley;[89] and yet, praise be to God, I may whisper in sic manner as I will be hard sufficientlie in the largest house in all Carrick.”――“The larger the house, the better for the auditor and me,” replied the Reformer.

The earl of Cassilis wrote to Knox, expressing his disapprobation of the proposed dispute, as unlikely to do any good, and calculated to endanger the public peace; to which the Reformer replied, by signifying, that his relation had given the challenge, which he was resolved not to decline, and that his lordship ought to encourage him to keep the appointment, from which no bad effects were to be dreaded. Upon this the abbot wrote a letter to Knox, charging him with having procured Cassilis’s letter, to bring him into disgrace, and to advance his own honour; and saying, that he would have “rancountered” him the last time he was in that country, had it not been for the interposition of his nephew. “Ye sal be assured,” {66} adds he, “I sal keip day and place in Mayboill, according to my writing, an I haif my life, and my feit louse;” and in another letter to Knox and the bailies of Ayr, he says, “keip your promes, and pretex na joukrie, by my lorde of Cassilis writing.”――“To nether of these,” says Knox, “did I answer otherwise than by appointing the day, and promising to keap the same. For I can pacientlie suffer wantone men to speak wantonlie, considering that I had sufficientlie answered my lord of Cassilis in that behalf.”

The conditions of the combat were now speedily settled. They agreed to meet on the 28th of September, at eight o’clock in the morning, in the house of the provost of Maybole. Forty persons on each side were to be admitted as witnesses of the dispute, with “as many mo as the house might goodly hold, at the sight of my lord of Cassilis.” And notaries, or scribes, were chosen on each side to record the papers which might be given in by the parties, and the arguments which they advanced in the course of reasoning, to prevent unnecessary repetition, or a false report of the proceedings. These conditions were formally drawn out, and subscribed by the Abbot and the Reformer, on the day preceding the meeting.

When they met, “Johne Knox addressed him to make publict prayer, whereat the abbot wes soir offended at the first, but whil the said John wold in nowise be stayed, he and his gave audience; which being ended, the abbote said, ‘Be my faith, it is weill said.’” The reasoning commenced by reading a paper presented by the abbot, in which, after rehearsing the {67} occasion of his present appearance, and protesting, that his entering into dispute was not to be understood as implying that the points in question were disputable or dubious, being already determined by lawful general councils, he declared his readiness to defend the articles which he had exhibited, beginning with that concerning the sacrifice of the mass. To this paper Knox gave in a written answer in the course of the disputation; and, in the meantime, after stating his opinion respecting general councils, he proceeded to the article in dispute. It was requisite, he said, to state clearly and distinctly the subject in controversy; and he thought the mass contained the four following things: the name, the form and action, the opinion entertained of it, and the actor, with the authority which he had to do what he pretended to do; all of which he was prepared to show, were destitute of any foundation in scripture. The abbot was aware of the difficulty of managing the point on such broad ground, and he had taken up ground of his own, which he thought he could maintain against his antagonist. “As to the masse that he will impung,” said he, “or any mannes masse, yea, an it war the paipes awin masse, I will mantein na thing but Jesus Christes masse, conforme to my article, as it is written, and diffinition contened in my buik, whilk he hes tane on hand to impung.”

Knox expressed his delight at hearing the abbot say, that he would defend nothing but the mass of Christ, for if he adhered to this, they were “on the verray point of an christiane agrement,” as he was {68} ready to allow whatever could be shown to have been instituted by Christ. As to his lordship’s book, he confessed he had not read it, and (without excusing his negligence) requested the definition to be read to him from it. The abbot qualified his assertion by saying, that he meant to defend no other mass, except that which in its “substance, institution, and effect,” was appointed by Christ; and he defined the mass, in its substance and effect, to be the sacrifice and oblation of the Lord’s body and blood, given and offered by him in the last supper; and for the first confirmation of this, he rested upon the oblation of bread and wine by Melchizedec. His argument was, that the scripture declared Christ to be a priest after the order of Melchizedec: Melchizedec offered bread and wine to God: therefore Christ offered or made oblation of his body and blood in the last supper, which was the only instance in which the priesthood of Christ and Melchizedec could agree.

Knox said, that the ceremonies of the mass, and the opinion entertained of it, (as procuring remission of sins to the quick and the dead,) were viewed as important parts of it, and, having a strong hold of the consciences of the people, ought to be taken into the argument; but as the abbot declared himself willing to defend these afterwards, he would proceed to the substance, and proposed, in the first place, to fix the sense in which the word sacrifice or oblation was used in this question. There were sacrifices _propitiatoriæ_, for expiation, and _eucharisticæ_, for thanksgiving; in which last sense the mortification of the body, prayer, {69} and almsgiving were called sacrifices in scripture. He wished, therefore, to know whether the abbot understood the word in the first or second of these senses in this dispute. The abbot said, that he would not at present enquire what his opponent meant by a sacrifice _propitiatorium_; but he held the sacrifice on the cross to be the only sacrifice of redemption, and that of the mass to be the sacrifice of commemoration of the death and passion of Christ. Knox replied, that the chief head which he intended to impugn, seemed to be yielded by the abbot; and he, for his part, cheerfully granted, that there was a commemoration of Christ’s death in the right use of the ordinance of the supper.

The abbot insisted that Knox should proceed to impugn the warrant which he had taken from scripture for his article. “Protesting,” said the Reformer, “that this mekle is win, that the sacrifice of the messe being denied by me to be a sacrifice propitiatorie for the sins of the quick and the dead (according to the opinion thereof before conceaved), hath no patron at the present, I am content to procede.”――“I protest he hes win nothing of me as yit, and referres it to black and white contened in our writing.”――“I have openlie denied the masse to be an sacrifice propitiatorie for the quick, &c., and the defence thereof is denied. And, therefore, I referre me unto the same judges that my lord hath clamed.”――“Ye may denie what ye pleis; for all that ye denie I tak not presentlie to impung; but whair I began, there will I end, that is, to defend the messe conform to my artickle.”――“Your lordship’s ground,” said Knox, after some altercation, “is, that {70} Melchizedeck is the figure of Christe in that he did offer unto God bread and wine, and that it behoved Jesus Christ to offer, in his latter supper, his body and blude under the forms of bread and wine. I answer to your ground yet againe, that Melchizedeck offered neither bread nor wine unto God; and, therefore, it that ye would thereupon conclude hath no assurance of your ground.”――“Preve that,” said the abbot. Knox replied, that according to the rules of just reasoning, he could not be bound to prove a negative; that it was incumbent on his opponent to bring forward some proof for his affirmation, concerning which, the text was altogether silent; and that until the abbot did this, it was sufficient for him simply to deny. But the abbot said, he “stuck to his text,” and insisted that his antagonist should show for what purpose Melchizedec brought out the bread and the wine, if it was not to offer them to God. After protesting that the abbot’s position remained destitute of support, and that he was not bound, in point of argument, to show what became of the bread and wine, or what use was made of them, Knox consented to state his opinion, that they were intended by Melchizedec to refresh Abraham and his company. The abbot had now gained what he wished; and he had a number of objections ready to start against this view of the words, by which he was able at least to protract and involve the dispute. And thus ended the first day’s contest.

When the company convened on the following day, the abbot proceeded to impugn the view which his {71} opponent had given of the text. He urged, first, that Abraham and his company had a sufficiency of provision in the spoils which they had taken from the enemy in their late victory, and did not need Melchizedec’s bread and wine; and, secondly, that the text said that Melchizedec brought them forth, and it was improbable that one man, and he a king, should carry as much as would refresh three hundred and eighteen men. To these objections Knox made such replies as will occur to any person who thinks on the subject. And in this manner did the second day pass.

When they met on the third day, the abbot presented a paper, in which he stated another objection to Knox’s view of the text. After some more altercation on this subject, Knox desired his opponent to proceed, according to his promise, to establish the argument upon which he had rested his cause. But the abbot, being indisposed, rose up, and put into Knox’s hand a book to which he referred him for the proof. By this time, the noblemen and gentlemen present were completely wearied out. For, besides the tedious and uninteresting mode in which the disputation had been managed, they could find entertainment neither for themselves nor for their retinue in Maybole; so that if any person had brought in bread and wine among them, it is presumable that they would not have debated long upon the purpose for which it was brought. Knox proposed that they should adjourn to Ayr and finish the dispute, which was refused by the abbot, who said he would come to Edinburgh for that purpose, provided he could {72} obtain the queen’s permission. Upon this the company dismissed.

The dispute was never resumed, though Knox says that he applied to the privy council for liberty to the abbot to come to Edinburgh for this purpose. Kennedy died in August 1564. It has been said that he was canonized as a saint after his death,[90] and Dempster makes him both a saint and a martyr.[91] I have not seen his name in the Romish calendar, but I find (what is of as great consequence) that the grand argument upon which he insisted in his disputation with the Reformer has been canonized. For in the calendar, at “March 25,” it is written, “Melchezedec sacrifeit breid and wyne in figure of ye bodie and bloud of our lord, whilk is offerit in ye messe.”[92] Doubtless, those who knew the very month and day on which this happened, must have been better acquainted with the design of Melchizedec, than either Moses or Paul.

The abbot, and his friends, having circulated the report that he had the advantage in the disputation, Knox, in 1563, published the account of it from the {73} records of the notaries, to which he added a prologue and short marginal notes. The prologue and his answer to the abbot’s first paper, especially the latter, are pieces of good writing. I have been the more minute in the narrative of this dispute than its merits deserve, because no account of it has hitherto appeared, the tract itself being so exceedingly rare, as to have been seen by few for a long period.[93]

Another priest who defended the Roman catholic cause at this time was Ninian Wingate. He had been schoolmaster of Linlithgow, from which situation he was removed by Spotswood, superintendent of Lothian, on account of his devoted attachment to popery. In the month of February 1562, he sent to Knox a writing, consisting of eighty‑three questions upon the principal topics of dispute between the papists and protestants, which he had drawn up in the name of the inferior clergy, and laity, of the catholic persuasion in Scotland. To some of these, particularly the questions which related to the call of the protestant ministers, the Reformer returned an answer from the pulpit, and Wingate addressed {74} several letters to him, complaining that his answers were not satisfactory. These letters, with addresses to the queen, nobility, bishops, and magistrates of Edinburgh, Wingate committed to the press, but the impression being seized in the printer’s house, (according to bishop Lesley,) the author made his escape, and went to the continent.[94] Knox intended to publish an answer to Wingate’s questions, and to defend the validity of the protestant ministry; but it does not appear that he carried his design into execution.[95]

In the beginning of 1563, Knox went to Jedburgh, by appointment of the General Assembly, to investigate a scandal which had broken out against Paul {75} Methven, the minister of that place, who was suspected of adultery. Methven was found guilty, and excommunicated.[96] Having fled to England, he sent a letter to the General Assembly, professing his willingness to submit to the discipline of the church, but requesting that the account of his process should be deleted from the records of the church. The Assembly declared that he might return with safety to his native country, and that he should be admitted to public repentance, but refused to erase the process from their minutes. [97] He afterwards returned to Scotland; and a severe and humiliating penance was prescribed to him. He was enjoined to appear at the church‑door of Edinburgh, when the second bell rang for public worship, clad in sackcloth, bareheaded, and barefooted; to stand there until the prayer and psalms were finished, when he was to be brought into the church to hear sermon, during which he was to be “placeit in the public spectakell above the peiple.” This appearance he was to make on three several preaching‑days, and on the last of them, being a Sabbath, he was, at the close of the sermon, to profess his sorrow before the congregation, and to request their forgiveness; upon which he was again to be “clad in his awin apparell,” and received into the communion of the church. He was to repeat this course at Dundee and at Jedburgh, where he had officiated as minister.[98] Methven went through {76} a part of this humbling scene, with professions of deep sorrow; but being overwhelmed with shame, and despairing to regain his lost reputation, he stopped in the midst of it, and again retired to England.[99] Prudential considerations were not wanting to induce the reformed church of Scotland to stifle this affair, and to screen from public ignominy a man who had acted a distinguished part in the late reformation of religion. But they refused to listen to these; and by instituting a strict scrutiny into the fact, and inflicting an exemplary punishment upon the criminal, they “approved themselves to be clear in this matter,” and effectually shut the mouths of their popish adversaries.

The mode of public repentance enjoined on this occasion was appointed to be afterwards used in all cases of aggravated immorality.[100] There was nothing in which the Scottish reformers approached nearer to the primitive church than in the rigorous and impartial exercise of ecclesiastical discipline, the relaxation of which, under the papacy, they justly regarded as one great cause of the universal corruption of religion. While they rejected many of the ceremonies which were introduced into the worship of the christian church during the three first centuries, they, from detestation of vice, and a desire to restrain it, did not scruple to conform to a number of their penitential regulations. In some instances they might carry their rigour against offenders to an {77} extreme; but it was a virtuous extreme, compared with the dangerous laxity, or rather total disuse of discipline, which has gradually crept into almost all the churches which retain the name of reformed: even as the scrupulous delicacy with which our forefathers shunned the society of those who had transgressed the rules of morality, is to be preferred to modern manners, by which the vicious obtain easy admission into the company of the virtuous.

“’Twas hard, perhaps, on here and there a waif,
Desirous to return, and not received:
But was an wholesome rigour in the main,
And taught the unblemish’d to preserve with care
That purity, whose loss was loss of all.
――――――――――――――But now――yes, now,
We are become so candid and so fair,
So liberal in construction, and so rich
In christian charity, (good‑natured age!)
That they are safe, sinners of either sex,
Transgress what laws they may.”