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.