On the day appointed for the trial, the public anxiety was raised

to a high pitch, and the palace‑yard and avenues were crowded with

people, who waited to learn the result. The Reformer was conducted to

the chamber in which the lords were already assembled, and engaged in

consultation. When the queen had taken her seat, and perceived Knox

standing uncovered at the foot of the table, she burst into a loud

fit of laughter. “That man,” said she, “made me weep, and shed never

a tear himself: I will now see if I can make him weep.” The secretary

opened the proceedings with greater gravity, by stating, in a speech

addressed to the Reformer, the reasons why the queen had convened him

before her nobility. “Let him acknowledge his own handwriting,” said

the queen, “and then we shall judge of the contents of the letter.”

A copy of the circular letter being handed to him, he looked at the

subscription, and owned that it was his; adding, that though he had

subscribed a number of blanks, he had such confidence in the fidelity

of the scribe, that he was ready to acknowledge the contents as well

as the subscription. “You have done more than I would have done,” said

Maitland. “Charity is not suspicious,” {100} replied the Reformer.

“Well, well,” said the queen, “read your own letter, and then answer

to such things as shall be demanded of you.”――“I will do the best

I can,” said he; and having read the letter with an audible voice,

returned it to the queen’s advocate, who was commanded to accuse him.

“Heard you ever, my lords, a more despiteful and treasonable letter?”

said the queen, looking round the table. “Mr Knox, are you not sorry

from your heart, and do you not repent that such a letter has passed

your pen, and from you has come to the knowledge of others?” said

Maitland. “My lord secretary, before I repent, I must be taught my

offence.”――“Offence! if there were no more but the convocation of the

queen’s lieges, the offence cannot be denied.”――“Remember yourself,

my lord; there is a difference between a lawful convocation and an

unlawful. If I have been guilty in this, I offended oft since I came

last into Scotland; for what convocation of the brethren has ever been

to this hour, unto which my pen served not?”――“Then was then, and now

is now,” said the secretary; “we have no need of such convocations as

sometimes we have had.”――“The time that has been is even now before

my eyes,” rejoined the Reformer; “for I see the poor flock in no

less danger than it has been at any time before, except that the

devil has got a vizor upon his face. Before, he came in with his own

face, discovered by open tyranny, seeking the destruction of all that

refused idolatry; and then, I think, you will confess the brethren

lawfully assembled themselves for defence of their lives; {101} and

now the devil comes under the cloak of justice, to do that which God

would not suffer him to do by strength”――――

“What is this?” interrupted her majesty, who was offended that he

should be allowed such liberty of speech, and thought that she could

bring him more closely to the question than any of her counsellors.

“What is this? Methinks you trifle with him. Who gave him authority

to make convocation of my lieges? Is not that treason?”――“No, madam,”

replied lord Ruthven, displeased at the keenness which the queen

showed in the cause; “for he makes convocation of the people to hear

prayers and sermon almost daily; and whatever your grace or others

will think thereof, we think it no treason.”――“Hold your peace,” said

the queen; “and let him make answer for himself.”――“I began, madam,”

resumed Knox, “to reason with the secretary (whom I take to be a

better dialectician than your grace) that all convocations are not

unlawful; and now my lord Ruthven has given the instance.”――“I will

say nothing against your religion, nor against your convening to your

sermons; but what authority have you to convocate my subjects when you

will, without my commandment?” He answered, that at his own will he

had never convened four persons in Scotland, but at the orders of his

brethren he had given many advertisements, and great multitudes had

assembled in consequence of them; and if her grace complained that

this had been done without her command, he begged leave to answer,

that the same objection might be made to {102} all that had been done

respecting the reformation of religion in this kingdom. He had never,

he said, loved to stir up tumults――never been a preacher of rebellion;

on the contrary, he had always taught the people to obey princes and

magistrates in all their lawful commands. If he had been more active

than the rest of his brethren in calling extraordinary assemblies

of the protestants, it was owing to a charge which he had received

from the church to do so, as often as he saw a necessity for such

meetings, and especially when religion was exposed to danger; and

he had repeatedly requested to be exonerated from this irksome and

invidious charge, but could not obtain his wish. He must, therefore,

be convicted by a just law, before he would profess sorrow for what

he had done: he thought he had done no wrong.

“You shall not escape so,” said the queen. “Is it not treason,

my lords, to accuse a prince of cruelty? I think there be acts of

parliament against such whisperers.” Several of their lordships said

that there were such laws. “But wherein can I be accused of this?”

asked Knox. “Read this part of your own bill,” said the queen, who

showed herself an acute prosecutor. She then ordered the following

sentence to be read from his letter:――“This fearful summons is

directed against them, [the two persons who were indicted,] to make

no doubt a preparative on a few, that a door may be opened to execute

cruelty upon a greater multitude.”――“Lo!” exclaimed the queen,

exultingly; “what say you to that?” The eyes of the assembly were

fixed on the Reformer, and {103} all were anxious to know what answer

he would make to this charge.

“Is it lawful for me, madam, to answer for myself? or, shall I be

condemned unheard?”――“Say what you can; for I think you have enough

to do,” said the queen. “I will first then desire of your grace, madam,

and of this most honourable audience, whether your grace knows not,

that the obstinate papists are deadly enemies to all such as profess

the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that they most earnestly desire

the extermination of them, and of the true doctrine that is taught

within this realm?” Mary was silent; but the lords, with one voice,

exclaimed, “God forbid, that ever the lives of the faithful, or yet

the staying of the doctrine, stood in the power of the papists! for

just experience has taught us what cruelty lies in their hearts.”――“I

must proceed, then,” said the Reformer. “Seeing that I perceive

that all will grant, that it was a barbarous thing to destroy such

a multitude as profess the gospel of Christ within this realm, which

oftener than once or twice they have attempted to do by force,――they,

by God and by his providence being disappointed, have invented more

crafty and dangerous practices, to wit, to make the prince a party

under colour of law; and so what they could not do by open force, they

shall perform by crafty deceit. For who thinks, my lords, that the

insatiable cruelty of the papists (within this realm I mean) shall

end in the murdering of these two brethren, now unjustly summoned, and

more unjustly to {104} be accused?――And therefore, madam, cast up,

when you list, the acts of your parliament, I have offended nothing

against them; for I accuse not, in my letter, your grace, nor yet

your nature, of cruelty. But I affirm yet again, that the pestilent

papists, who have inflamed your grace against those poor men at

this present, are the sons of the devil, and therefore must obey

the desires of their father, who has been a liar and manslayer

from the beginning.”――“You forget yourself! you are not now in the

pulpit,” said the chancellor. “I am in the place where I am demanded

of conscience to speak the truth; and therefore the truth I speak,

impugn it whoso list.” He added, again addressing the queen, that

persons who appeared to be of honest, gentle, and meek natures, had

often been corrupted by wicked counsel; and that the papists, who had

her ear, were dangerous counsellors, and such her mother had found

them to be.

Mary, perceiving that nothing was to be gained by reasoning, began

now to upbraid him with his harsh behaviour to her, at their last

interview. He spake “fair enough” at present before the lords, she

said; but on that occasion he caused her to shed many salt tears, and

said, “he set not by her weeping.” This drew from him a vindication

of his conduct, in the course of which he gave a narrative of that

conference. After this, the secretary, having spoken with the queen,

told Knox that he was at liberty to return home for that night. “I

thank God and the queen’s majesty,” said he, and retired.

{105} When Knox had withdrawn, the judgment of the nobility was

taken respecting his conduct. All of them, with the exception of the

immediate dependents of the court, gave it as their opinion, that he

had not been guilty of any breach of the laws. The secretary, who had

assured the queen of his condemnation, was enraged at this decision.

He brought her majesty, who had retired, again into the room, and

proceeded to call the votes a second time. This attempt to overawe

them incensed the nobility. “What!” said they, “shall the laird of

Lethington have power to control us? or, shall the presence of a woman

cause us to offend God, and to condemn an innocent man, against our

consciences?” They then repeated the vote which they had already given,

absolving him from all offence, and, at the same time, praising his

modest appearance, and the judicious manner in which he had conducted

his defence.

Mary was unable to conceal the mortification and displeasure which

she felt at this unexpected acquittal. When the bishop of Ross, who

had been the informer, gave his vote on the same side with the rest,

she taunted him openly in the presence of the court. “Trouble not the

child!” said she; “I pray you trouble him not! for he is newly wakened

out of his sleep. Why should not the old fool follow the footsteps

of those that have passed before him?” The bishop replied coldly,

that her majesty might easily know, that his vote was not influenced

by partiality to the person accused.――“That nicht was nyther {106}

dancing nor fiddeling in the court; for madam was disappoynted of hir

purpose, whilk was to have had Johne Knox in hir will, by vote of her

nobility.”[119]

{107}

PERIOD VIII.

FROM DECEMBER 1563, WHEN HE WAS ACQUITTED FROM A CHARGE OF

TREASON, TO THE YEAR 1570, WHEN HE WAS STRUCK WITH APOPLEXY.

The indignation of the queen at the Reformer’s escape from punishment

did not soon abate;[120] and the effects of it fell upon the

courtiers who had voted for his exculpation, and upon those who had

been unsuccessful in opposing it. The Earl of Murray was among the

former,[121] Maitland among the latter. In order to appease her wrath,

they again attempted to persuade Knox to soothe her by some voluntary

submission; and they engaged that, if he would only agree to go within

the walls of the castle, he should be allowed to return immediately

to his own house. To this he refused to yield, being convinced that

by such a compliance he would throw discredit on the judgment of the

nobility who had acquitted him, and confess himself to have been a

mover of sedition. Disappointed in their object, they endeavoured

to injure him by whispers and detraction; circulating that he had

no authority from his brethren for what {108} he had done, and that

he arrogated a papal power over the Scottish church, by issuing his

letters at pleasure, and exacting an implicit obedience to them. These

charges were very groundless and unjust; for there never was, perhaps,

an individual who possessed as much influence, and at the same time

was so careful to avoid all appearance of assuming superiority over

his brethren, or of acting by his own private authority, in matters

of public and common concern.

At the meeting of the General Assembly, held in the close of this

year, he declined taking any share in the deliberations; but after

the public business had been disposed of, he requested liberty to

speak on an affair which concerned himself. He stated what he had

done in writing the late circular letter, the proceedings to which

it had given rise, and the surmises which were still circulating to

his prejudice; and he insisted that the church should now examine

his conduct in that matter, and particularly that they should declare

whether or not they had given him a commission to advertise the

brethren, when he foresaw any danger threatening their religion,

or any difficult case which required their advice. The courtiers

strenuously opposed the discussion of this question; but it was taken

up, and the assembly, by a great majority, found that he had been

charged with such a commission, and that, in the advertisement which

he had lately given, he had not exceeded his powers.[122]

{109} Knox had remained a widower upwards of three years. But in March

1564, he contracted a second marriage with Margaret Stewart, daughter

of lord Ochiltree, a nobleman of amiable dispositions, who had been

long familiar with our Reformer, and had steadily adhered to him when

he was deserted by his other friends.[123] She continued to discharge

the duties of a wife to him, with the most pious and affectionate

assiduity, until the time of his death. The popish writers, who envied

the honours of the Scottish Reformer, have represented this marriage

as a proof of his great ambition, and, in the excess of their spleen,

have ridiculously imputed to him the project of aiming to raise his

progeny to the throne of Scotland; because the family of Ochiltree

was of the blood royal! They are quite clear, too, that he gained the

heart of the young lady by means of {110} sorcery, and the assistance

of the devil. But it seems, that, powerfully as he was seconded, he

could not succeed in another attempt which he had previously made; for

the same writers inform us, that he paid his addresses to lady Barbara

Hamilton, eldest daughter of the duke of Chastelherault, and widow of

Lord Fleming, by whom he was repulsed. The account of the appearance

that he made at the time of his marriage, which shall be inserted

in the notes, the reader will receive according to the degree of its

probability, and the credit he may think due to the authorities upon

which it rests.[124]

The country continued in a state of quietness during the year 1564;

but the same jealousies still subsisted between the court and the

church.[125] Her majesty’s prejudices against the reformed religion

were unabated, and she maintained a correspondence with its sworn

enemies on the continent, which could not altogether escape the

vigilance of her protestant subjects.[126] The preachers, on their

side, did {111} not relax in their zealous warnings against popery,

and as to the dangers which they apprehended; while they complained of

the beggary to which the greater part of their own number was reduced,

and of the growing lukewarmness of the protestant courtiers. The

latter felt uneasy under these reproaches, and, in concert with the

queen, were anxious to restrain the license of the pulpit. They began

by addressing themselves privately to the more moderate and complying

of the ministers, whom they gained over, by their persuasions, to a

partial approbation of their measures; and having so far succeeded,

they ventured to propose the matter in public, and to request the

sanction of the leading members of the General Assembly.

Without intending to vindicate the latitude which was taken by

particular preachers at that time, it may be said, in general, that

a systematic attempt to restrain the liberty of speech in the pulpit,

farther than the correction of occasional excesses might require,

would have been a measure fraught with danger to the protestant

interest. The reformed preachers were the most vigilant and incorrupt

guardians of national liberty; an honourable distinction which their

successors maintained during the remainder of that century. It is

better to be awaked with rudeness, or even by a false alarm, than

to be allowed to sleep on in the midst of dangers. Who would muzzle

{112} the mouth of the wakeful animal which guards the house against

thieves, because the inmates are sometimes disturbed by his nocturnal

vociferation? or substitute in his place a “dumb dog, that cannot

bark, sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber?”

Knox, the freedom and sharpness of whose censures the courtiers felt

most deeply, was the person whom they chiefly wished to restrain;

but it was no easy matter either to overawe him by authority, or

by reasoning to procure his acquiescence in their proposals. In the

month of June, a conference was held between the principal statesmen

and ministers of the church, when this subject was discussed; and in

an elaborate debate with Maitland, Knox defended the leading points

of his doctrine which had given offence to the court. This debate

“admirably displays the talents and character of both the disputants;

the acuteness of the former, embellished with learning, but prone to

subtlety; the vigorous understanding of the latter, delighting in bold

sentiments, and superior to all fear.”[127]

Maitland opened the conference with a plausible speech. He set forth

the benefits which they had enjoyed under her Majesty’s government,

and dwelt on the liberty which she had granted them in religious

matters; he urged the great importance of the ministers of the church

cultivating her friendship by every good office in their power, and

endeavouring to inspire the people with a favourable opinion of {113}

her person and administration; and pointed out the hurtful effects of

their being observed to disagree in their form of prayer for her, and

in their doctrine concerning the duty of subjects. Addressing himself

particularly to Knox, he told him, with much politeness and address,

that it was the earnest wish of the council that he should study

greater caution, when he had occasion to speak of her majesty from

the pulpit: not that they were afraid of his saying any thing very

improper, but because the liberty which he used would be taken by

persons less modest and prudent. Knox replied to the secretary’s

speech. He drew a very different picture of the state of affairs since

the queen came to the country; stated the grievances under which the

church laboured, and which were daily increasing, instead of being

redressed; and added, that, in these circumstances, the courtiers

ought not to be surprised at the complaints of the ministers, and

the liberties which they took in rebuking sins, which were openly

committed, and persisted in notwithstanding all due admonition. At the

same time, he professed his readiness to account for any part of his

own conduct which had given offence, and to listen to the objections

which might be urged against it.

Maitland specified the mode in which the Reformer usually prayed for

her majesty, as one thing which gave offence to him and his colleagues.

Prayers and tears, it has often been alleged, are the only arms

which Christians ought to employ against injuries. But those who have

deprived them of other {114} weapons, have usually envied them the

use of these also; and if their prayers have not been smoothed down to

the temper of their adversaries, so as to become mere compliments to

princes under colour of an address to the Almighty, they have often

been pronounced to be seditious and treasonable.[128] Knox repeated

his common form of prayer for the queen, and requested to be informed

in what respects it was deserving of reprehension. “Ye pray for

the queen’s majesty with a condition,” replied Maitland, “saying,

‘Illuminate her heart, if thy good pleasure be.’ Where have ye example

of such prayer?”――“Wherever the examples are,” rejoined Knox, “I

am assured of the rule, ‘If we shall ask any thing according to his

will, he will hear us;’ and Christ commanded us to pray, ‘Thy will be

done.’”――“But in so doing ye put a doubt in the people’s head of her

conversion,” said Maitland.――“Not I, my lord; but her own obstinate

rebellion causes more than me to doubt of her conversion.”――“Wherein

rebels she against God?”――“In all the actions of her life, but in

these two heads especially: that she will not hear the preaching of

the blessed evangel of Jesus Christ, and that she maintains that idol

the mass.”――“She thinks not that rebellion, but good religion.”――“So

{115} thought they who offered their children to Moloch, and yet the

spirit of God affirms, that they offered them unto devils, and not

unto God.”――“But yet ye can produce the example of none that has so

prayed before you,” said the secretary, pressing his former objection.

“Well then,” said Knox; “Peter said these words to Simon Magus,

‘Repent of this thy wickedness, and pray to God, that, if it be

possible, the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee.’ And

think ye not, my lord secretary, that the same doubt may touch my

heart as touching the queen’s conversion, that then touched the heart

of the apostle?”――“I would never hear you or any other call that

in doubt,” replied Maitland.――“But your will is no assurance to my

conscience.”――“Why say ye that she refuses admonitions?” said Maitland;

“she will gladly hear any man.”――“But what obedience ensues? Or, when

shall she be seen to give her presence to the public preaching?”――“I

think never, so long as she is thus entreated,” replied the secretary.

“And so long,” rejoined the Reformer, “ye and all others must be

content that I pray so as I may be assured to be heard of my God,

either in making her comfortable to his church, or, if he has

appointed her to be a scourge to the same, that we may have patience,

and she may be bridled.”

“Well then,” said the secretary, “let us come to the second head.

Where find ye that the scripture calls any ‘the bond slaves of

Satan?’ or, that the prophets spake so irreverently of kings and

princes?”――“If the sharpness of the term offend you,” replied {116}

the Reformer, “I have not invented that phrase of speaking, but have

learned it out of God’s scriptures; for these words I find spoken unto

Paul, ‘Behold, I send thee unto the Gentiles, to open their eyes, that

they may turn from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto

God.’ Mark thir words, my lord, and stur not at the speaking of the

Holy Ghost.”

The secretary, who, during the greater part of the dispute, had

leaned on the master of Maxwell’s breast, said that he was fatigued,

and desired some other person to reason with Knox on the point which

remained to be discussed, respecting the authority of magistrates

and the duty of subjects. Chancellor Morton ordered George Hay to

perform this part. Knox was aware, that the object of the court was,

if possible, to divide the ministers, and that they would improve any

appearance of diversity of opinion among them, to the prejudice of

the common cause. He therefore told Hay, that he had no objections

to reason with him, knowing him to be a man of learning and modesty;

but he should be sorry to think that they opposed each other, like

two scholars of Pythagoras, to show the quickness of their parts by

supporting either side of a question; and as he, for his own part,

protested that he durst no more support a proposition which he knew

to be untrue, than he durst teach false doctrine in the pulpit, so

he hoped that his brother would, on the present occasion, advance or

maintain nothing but what he was persuaded of in his conscience. This

caution had the desired effect, and Hay declared, before the {117}

whole assembly, that his judgment exactly coincided with Knox’s on

the subject proposed for discussion. “Marry,” said the disappointed

secretary, “ye are the well worst of the two; for I remember our

reasoning when the queen was in Carrick.”

Life of John Knox, Fifth Edition, Vol. 2 of 2 Containing Illustrations of the History of the Reformation in Scotland · 第 6 / 36 段