John Knox was born in the year 1505. The place of his nativity has been disputed. That he was born at Gifford, a village in East Lothian, has been the most prevailing opinion; but the tradition of the country fixes his birth at Haddington, the principal town of the county. The house in which he is said to have been born is still shown by the inhabitants, in one of the suburbs of the town, called the Gifford-gate. This house, with some adjoining acres of land, continued to be possessed by the family until about fifty years ago, when it was purchased from them by the Earl of Wemyss.

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

Obscurity of parentage can reflect no dishonor upon him who has raised himself to distinction by his virtues and talents. But the assertion of some writers, that our Reformer’s parents were in poor circumstances, is contradicted by facts. They were able to give their son a liberal education, which, in that age, was far from being common. In his youth he was put to the grammar-school of Haddington; and, after acquiring the principles of the Latin language there, was sent, by his father, to the university of St. Andrews, at that time the most celebrated seminary in the kingdom. This was about the year 1524; at which time George Buchanan commenced his studies, under the same masters, and in the same college of St. Salvador.

The state of learning in Scotland at this period, and the progress which it made in the subsequent part of the century, have not been examined with the attention which they deserve, and which has been bestowed on contemporaneous subjects of inferior importance. There were unquestionably learned Scotsmen in the early part of the sixteenth century; but the most of them owed their chief acquirements to the advantage of a foreign education. Those improvements, which the revival of literature had introduced into the schools of Italy and France, were long in reaching the universities of Scotland, originally formed upon their model, and, when they did arrive, were regarded with a suspicious eye. The principal branches cultivated in our universities were the Aristotelian philosophy, scholastic theology, with canon and civil law. The schools erected in the principal towns of the kingdom afforded the means of instruction in the Latin tongue, the knowledge of which, in some degree, was requisite for enabling the clergy to perform the religious service. But the Greek language, long after it had been enthusiastically studied on the continent, and after it had become a fixed branch of education in the neighboring kingdom, continued to be almost unknown in Scotland. Individuals acquired the knowledge of it abroad; but the first attempts to teach it in this country were of a private nature, and exposed their patrons to the suspicion of heresy. The town of Montrose is distinguished by being the first place, as far as I have been able to discover, in which Greek was taught in Scotland; and John Erskine of Dun is entitled to the honor of being regarded as the first of his countrymen who patronized the study of that polite and useful language. As early as the year 1534, that enlightened and public-spirited baron, on returning from his travels, brought with him a Frenchman, skilled in the Greek tongue, whom he settled in Montrose; and upon his removal, he liberally encouraged others to come from France and succeed to his place. From this private seminary many Greek scholars proceeded, and the knowledge of the language was gradually diffused through the kingdom. After this statement, I need scarcely add, that the oriental tongues were at this time utterly unknown in this country. It was not until the establishment of the Reformation, that Hebrew began to be studied; and John Row was the first who taught it, having opened a class for this purpose in the year 1560, immediately upon his settlement as minister in Perth. From that time, the knowledge of Greek and the Eastern languages advanced among our countrymen with a rapid pace.

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

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

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

The affinity between these, and the political principles afterwards avowed by Knox, and defended by the classic pen of Buchanan, is too striking to require illustration. Though Major was not the first Scottish writer who had expressed some of these sentiments, it is highly probable, that the oral instructions and writings of their teacher first suggested to them those principles which were confirmed by subsequent reading and reflection; and consequently contributed to bring about those great changes which were afterwards effected by means of them. Nor would his ecclesiastical opinions fail to have their share of influence upon the train of their thoughts.

But though, in these respects, the opinions of Major were more free and rational than those generally entertained at that time, it must be confessed that the portion of instruction which his scholars could derive from him was extremely small, if we allow his publications to be a fair specimen of his academical prelections. Many of the questions which he discusses are utterly useless and trifling; the rest are rendered disgusting by the most servile adherence to all the minutiae of the scholastic mode of reasoning. The reader of his works must be content with painfully picking a grain of truth from the rubbish of many pages; nor will the drudgery be compensated by those discoveries of inventive genius and acute discrimination, for which the writings of Aquinas, and some others of that subtle school, may still deserve to be consulted. Major is entitled to praise, for exposing to his countrymen several of the more glaring errors and abuses of his time; but his mind was deeply tinctured with superstition, and he defended some of the absurdest tenets of popery by the most ridiculous and puerile arguments. His talents were moderate; with the writings of the ancients he appears to have been acquainted only through the medium of the collectors of the Middle Ages; nor does he ever hazard an opinion, or pursue a speculation beyond what he found marked out by some approved doctor of the Church. Add to this, that his style is, to an uncommon degree, harsh and forbidding; “exile, aridum, conscissum, ac minutum”. ¹

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

But we must not suppose, that Knox was able at once to divest himself of the prejudices of his education and of the times. Barren and repulsive as the scholastic studies appear to our minds, there was something in the intricate and subtle sophistry then in vogue, calculated to fascinate the youthful and ingenious mind. It had a show of wisdom; it exercised although it did not feed the understanding; it even gave play to the imagination, while it exceedingly flattered the pride of the adept. Nor was it easy for the person who had suffered himself to be drawn in, to break through or extricate himself from the mazy labyrinth. Accordingly, Knox continued for some time captivated with these studies, and prosecuted them with great success. After he was created Master of Arts, he taught philosophy, most probably as an assistant, or private lecturer in the university. His class became celebrated; and he was considered as equaling, if not excelling, his master, in the subtleties of the dialectic art. About the same time, he was advanced to clerical orders, and ordained a priest, before he reached the age fixed by the canons of the Church; although he had no other interest, except what was procured by his own merit, or the recommendations of his teachers. This must have taken place previous to the year 1530, at which time he was twenty-five years of age.

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

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

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

The full half of the wealth of the nation belonged to the clergy; and the greater part of this was in the hands of a few of their number, who had the command of the whole body. Avarice, ambition, and the love of secular pomp, reigned among the superior orders. Bishops and abbots rivaled the first nobility in magnificence, and preceded them in honors: they were privy-councilors and Lords of Session, as well as of Parliament, and had long engrossed the principal offices of state. A vacant bishopric or abbacy called forth powerful competitors, who contended for it as for a principality or petty kingdom; it was obtained by similar arts, and not infrequently taken possession of by the same weapons. Inferior benefices were openly put to sale, or bestowed on the illiterate and unworthy minions of courtiers; on dice-players, strolling bards, and the bastards of bishops. Pluralities were multiplied without bounds, and benefices given “in commendam” ² were kept vacant, during the life of the commendatory, sometimes during several lives, to the deprivation of extensive parishes of all provision of religious service; if a deprivation it could be called, at a time when the cure of souls was no longer regarded as attached to livings, originally endowed for this purpose. There was not such a thing known as for a bishop to preach; indeed, I scarce recollect a single instance of it, mentioned in history, from the erection of the regular Scottish episcopate, down to the period of the Reformation. The practice was even gone into desuetude among all the secular clergy, and was wholly devolved on the mendicant monks, who employed it for the most mercenary purposes.

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

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

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

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

Of the doctrine of Christianity, scarce any thing remained but the name. Instead of being directed to offer up their adorations to one God, the people were taught to divide them among an innumerable company of inferior objects. A plurality of mediators shared the honor of procuring the divine favor, with the “one Mediator between God and men”; and more petitions were presented to the Virgin Mary and other saints, than to “Him whom the Father heareth always”. The sacrifice of the mass was represented as procuring forgiveness of sins to the living and the dead, to the infinite disparagement of the sacrifice by which Jesus Christ expiated sin, and procured everlasting redemption, and the consciences of men were withdrawn from faith in the merits of their Savior, to a delusive reliance upon priestly absolutions, papal pardons, and voluntary penances. Instead of being instructed to demonstrate the sincerity of their faith and repentance, by forsaking their sins, and to testify their love to God and man, by observing the ordinances of worship authorized by Scripture, and practicing the duties of morality, they were taught, that, if they regularly said their “aves” ³ and “credos”, ⁴ confessed themselves to a priest, purchased a mass, went in pilgrimage to the shrine of some celebrated saint, or performed some prescribed act of bodily mortification — if they refrained from flesh on Fridays, and punctually paid their tithes and other Church dues, their salvation was infallibly secured in due time: while those who were so rich and pious as to build a chapel or an altar, and to endow it for the support of a priest, to perform masses, obits, ⁵ and dirges, procured a relaxation of the pains of purgatory for themselves or their relations, according to the extent of their mortifications. It is difficult for us to conceive how empty, ridiculous, and wretched those harangues were, which the monks delivered for sermons. Legendary tales concerning the founder of some religious order, his wonderful sanctity, the miracles which he performed, his combats with the devil, his watchings, fastings, flagellations; the virtue of holy water, chrism, crossing, and exorcism; the horrors of purgatory, with the numbers released from it by the intercession of some powerful saint; these, with low jests, table-talk, and fireside scandal, formed the favorite topics of these preachers, and were served up to the people instead of the pure, solid, and sublime doctrines of the Bible.

The beds of the dying were besieged, and their last moments disturbed, by avaricious priests, who labored to extort bequests to themselves or to the Church. Not satisfied with the exacting of tithes from the living, a demand was made upon the dead: no sooner had a poor husbandman breathed his last, than the rapacious vicar came and carried off his corpse-present, which he repeated as often as death visited the family. Ecclesiastical censures were fulminated against those who were reluctant in making these payments, or who showed themselves disobedient to the clergy; and, for a little money, were prostituted on the most trifling occasions. Divine service was neglected; the churches were deserted (especially after the light of the Reformation had discovered abuses and pointed out a more excellent way); so that, except on a few festival days, the places of worship, in many parts of the country, served only as sanctuaries for malefactors, places of traffic, or resorts for pastime.

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

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

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

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

Patriots have toiled, and in their country’s cause Bled nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve, Receive proud recompense... .

The Reformed doctrine had made considerable progress in Scotland, before it was embraced by Knox. Patrick Hamilton, a youth of noble descent, obtained the honor, not conferred upon many of his rank, of first announcing its glad tidings to his countrymen, and sealing them with his blood. As early as the year 1526, previous to the breach of Henry VIII. with the Romish See, a gleam of light was, by some unknown means, imparted to the mind of that noble youth, amidst the darkness which brooded around him. Guided by this, he directed his course to Wittemberg; and, after conferring with the German Reformer, went to prosecute the study of the Scriptures in the Protestant university of Marburg, under the direction of Francis Lambert of Avignon. In that retreat, he was seized with such an irresistible desire to communicate to his countrymen the knowledge which he had received, that he left Marburg, contrary to the remonstrances of his acquaintances, and returned to Scotland. His freedom in exposing the reigning corruptions soon drew upon him the jealousy of the popish clergy, who decoyed him to St. Andrews; where, on the last day of February 1528, he obtained the crown of martyrdom, by the hands of Archbishop Beatoun. The murder of Hamilton was afterwards avenged in the blood of the nephew and successor of his persecutor; and the flames in which he expired were, “in the course of one generation, to enlighten all Scotland; and to consume, with avenging fury, the Catholic superstition, the papal power, and the prelacy itself”.

The cruel death of a person of rank, and the sufferings which he bore with the most undaunted fortitude and Christian patience, excited a general inquiry into his opinions among the learned, as well as the vulgar, in St. Andrews. Under the connivance of John Winram, the sub-prior, they secretly spread among the noviciates of the abbey. Gawin Logie, rector of St. Leonard’s college, was so successful in instilling them into the minds of the students, that it became proverbial to say of any one suspected of Lutheranism, that “he had drunk of St. Leonard’s well”. The clergy, alarmed at the progress of the new opinions, adopted the most rigorous measures for their extirpation. Strict inquisition was made after heretics; the flames of persecution were kindled in all quarters of the country; and, from 1530 to 1540, many innocent and excellent men suffered the most cruel death. Several purchased their lives by recantation. Numbers made their escape to England and the Continent; among whom were the following learned men, Gawin Logie, Alexander Setoun, Alexander Aless, John M’Bee, John Fife, John Macdowal, John Mackbray, George Buchanan, James Harrison, and Robert Richardson.

These violent proceedings could not arrest the progress of truth. By means of merchants, especially those of Dundee, Leith, and Montrose, who carried on trade with England and the Continent, Tyndale’s translations of the Scriptures, and many Protestant books, were imported, and circulated through the nation. Poetry lent her aid to the opposers of ignorance and superstition, and contributed greatly to the advancement of the Reformation, in this as well as other countries. Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, a favorite of James V., and an excellent poet, lashed the vices of the clergy, and exposed to ridicule many of the absurdities and superstitions of popery, in the most popular and poignant satires. His satirical play, which, though professing to correct the abuses of all estates, was principally leveled against those of the Church, was repeatedly acted before the royal family, the court, and vast assemblies of people, to the great mortification, and still greater damage of the clergy; and copies of it were in the hands of ploughmen, artisans, and children. The royal poet was followed by others who wrote in the same strain, but more avowedly asserting the Protestant doctrines; and metrical epistles, moralities, and psalms, in the Scottish language, were every where disseminated and read with avidity, notwithstanding prohibitory statutes and prosecutions. In the year 1540, the Reformed doctrine could number among its converts, besides a multitude of the common people, many persons of rank and external respectability; as William Earl of Glencairn, Alexander Lord Kilmaurs, William Earl of Errol, William Lord Ruthven, his daughter Lillias, married to the Master of Drummond, John Stewart, son of Lord Methven, Sir James Sandilands, with his whole family, Sir David Lindsay, Erskine of Dun, Melville of Raith, Balnaves of Halhill, the laird of Lauriston, with William Johnston, and Robert Alexander, advocates. These names deserve more consideration from the early period at which they were enrolled as friends of the Reformed religion. It has often been alleged, that the desire of sharing in the rich spoils of the popish Church, together with intrigues of the court of England, engaged the Scottish nobles on the side of the Reformation. It is reasonable to think, that, at a later period, this was in so far true. But at the time of which we now speak, the prospect of overturning the established Church was too distant and uncertain, to induce persons, merely from cupidity, to take a step by which they exposed their lives and fortunes to the most imminent hazard; nor had the English monarch then extended his influence in Scotland, by the arts which he afterwards employed.

From the year 1540 to the end of 1542, the numbers of the Reformed rapidly increased. Twice did the clergy attempt to cut them off by one desperate blow. They presented to the King a list, containing the names of some hundreds, possessed of property and wealth, whom they denounced as heretics; and endeavored to procure his consent to their condemnation, by flattering him with the immense riches which would accrue to him from their forfeiture. The first time the proposal was made, James rejected it with strong marks of displeasure; but so violent was the antipathy which he at last conceived against his nobility, and so much had he fallen under the influence of the clergy, that it is highly probable he would have yielded to their solicitations, had not that disaster happened, which put an end to his unhappy life.

While this fermentation of opinion was spreading through the nation, Knox, from the state in which his mind was, could not remain long unaffected. The Reformed doctrines had been imbibed by several of his acquaintances, and they were the topic of common conversation and dispute among the learned and inquisitive at the university. His change of views first discovered itself in his philosophical lectures, in which he began to forsake the scholastic path, and to recommend to his pupils a more rational and useful method of study. Even this innovation excited against him violent suspicions of heresy, which were confirmed, when he proceeded to reprehend the corruptions which prevailed in the Church. It was impossible for him, after this, to remain in safety at St. Andrews, which was wholly under the power of Cardinal Beatoun, the most determined supporter of the Romish Church, and enemy of all reform. He left that place, and retired to the south, where, within a short time, he avowed his full belief of the Protestant doctrine. Provoked by his defection, and alarmed lest he should draw others after him, the clergy were anxious to rid themselves of such an adversary. Having passed sentence against him as a heretic, and degraded him from the priesthood, says Beza, the Cardinal employed assassins to way-lay him, by whose hands he must have fallen, had not Providence placed him under the protection of the laird of Langniddrie.

Thomas Guillaume, or Williams, was very useful to Knox, in leading him to a more perfect acquaintance with the truth. He was a friar of eminence, and along with John Rough, acted as chaplain to the Earl of Arran, during the short time that he favored the Reformation, at the beginning of his regency, by whom he was employed in preaching in different parts of the kingdom. But the person to whom our Reformer was most indebted, was George Wishart, a gentleman of the house of Pittarow, in Mearns. Being driven into banishment by Cardinal Beatoun, for teaching the Greek New 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 the rest of 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. In his tour of preaching through Scotland, he was usually accompanied by some of the principal gentry; and the people, who flocked to hear him, were ravished with his discourses. To this teacher Knox attached himself and profited greatly by his sermons and private instructions. During his last visit to Lothian, he 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 at Dundee. Wishart was highly pleased with the zeal and talents of Knox, and seems to have presaged his future usefulness, at the same time that he labored under a strong presentiment of his own approaching martyrdom. On the night in which he was apprehended by Bothwell, at the instigation of the Cardinal, he directed the sword to be taken from him, and while he insisted for liberty to accompany him to Ormiston, dismissed him with this reply, “Nay, return to your bairns (meaning his pupils), and God bless you: one 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 Longniddrie, a gentleman in East Lothian, who had embraced the Reformed doctrines. John Cockburn of Ormiston, a neighboring 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 of the learned languages. He managed their religious instruction in such a way as to allow the rest of the family, and the people of the neighborhood, to reap advantage from it. He catechized them publicly in a chapel at Longniddrie, in which he also read to them, at stated times, a chapter of the Bible, accompanied with explanatory remarks. The memory of this has been preserved by tradition, and the chapel, the ruins of which are still apparent, is popularly called John Knox’s kirk.

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

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 bishopric, 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. He had no desire to go to England, because, although “the Pope’s name was suppressed” in that kingdom, “his laws and corruptions remained in full vigor”. His determination was to visit Germany, and prosecute his studies in some of the Protestant universities, until he should see a favorable change in the state of his native country. The lairds of Longniddrie and Ormiston were extremely reluctant to part with him, and, by their importunities prevailed with him to take refuge, along with their sons, in the castle of St. Andrews, which continued to be held by the conspirators.

Writers unfriendly to our Reformer have endeavored to fix an accusation upon him, respecting the assassination of Cardinal Beatoun. Some have ignorantly asserted that he was one of the conspirators. Others, better informed, have argued that he made himself accessory to their crime, by taking shelter among them; with more plausibility, others have appealed to his writings, as a proof that he vindicated the deed of the conspirators as laudable, or at least innocent. I know that some of Knox’s vindicators have denied this charge, and maintain that he justified it only in as 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. The just judgment of heaven is, I acknowledge, the chief thing to which he directs the attention of his reader; 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. The truth is, he held the opinion that persons who, by the commission of flagrant crimes, had forfeited their lives, according to the law of God, and the just laws of society, such as notorious murderers and tyrants, might warrantably be put to death by private individuals; provided all redress, in the ordinary course of justice, was rendered impossible, in consequence of the offenders having usurped the executive authority, or being systematically protected by oppressive rulers. This was an opinion of the same kind with that of tyrannocide, held by so many of the ancients, and defended by Buchanan in his dialogue, “De jure regni apud Scotos” ¹ It is a principle, I confess, of dangerous application, extremely liable to be abused by factious, fanatical, and desperate men, as a pretext for perpetrating the most nefarious deeds. It would be unjust, however, on this account, to confound it with the principle, which, by giving to individuals a liberty to revenge their own quarrels, legitimates assassination, a practice which was exceedingly common in that age. I may add, that there have been instances of persons, not invested with public authority, executing punishment upon flagitious offenders, as to which we may scruple to load the memory of the actors with an aggravated charge of murder, although we cannot approve of their conduct.

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 his lectures on the Scriptures, beginning at the place in the Gospel according to John, where he had left off at Longniddrie. He catechized them in the parish church belonging to the city. A number of persons attended both these exercises. Among those who had taken refuge in the castle (though not engaged in the conspiracy against the Cardinal) were John Rough, who, since his dismissal by the Regent, had lurked in Kyle, Sir David Lindsay of the Mount, and Henry Balnaves of Halhill. These persons were so much pleased with Knox’s doctrine and mode of teaching, that they urged him to preach publicly to the people, and to become colleague to Rough, who acted as chaplain to the garrison. But he resisted all their solicitations, assigning as a reason, that he did not consider himself as having a call to this employment, and would not be guilty of intrusion. They did not, however, desist from their purpose; but, having consulted with their brethren, came to a resolution, without his knowledge, that a call should be publicly given him, in the name of the whole, to become one of their ministers.

Accordingly, on a day fixed for the purpose, Rough preached a sermon on the election of ministers, in which he declared the power which a congregation, however small, had over any one in whom they perceived gifts suited to the office, and how dangerous it was for such a person to reject the call of those who desired instruction. Sermon being ended, 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 labors, that you take upon you 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.” Abashed and overwhelmed by this unexpected and solemn charge, Knox was unable to speak, but bursting into tears, retired from the assembly, and shut himself up in his chamber. “His countenance and behavior 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.”

This scene cannot fail to interest such as are impressed with the weight of the ministerial function, and will 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 priests’ offices, to eat a piece of bread”; when men of piety and talents, deeply impressed with the awful responsibility of the office, and their own insufficiency, were, with great difficulty, induced to take on those orders, which they had long desired, and for which they had labored to qualify themselves. What a glaring contrast to this was exhibited in the conduct of the herd, which at this time filled the stalls of the popish Church! The behavior of Knox also reproves those who become preachers of their own accord; 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 a sacred public employment, without any regular call.

We are not, however, to imagine that his distress of mind, and the reluctance which he discovered in complying with the call which he had now received, proceeded from consciousness of its invalidity, by the defect of certain external formalities which had been usual in the Church, or which, in ordinary cases, might 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 decent order, he did not contemn: 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 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 great part of its absurd, illiberal, and horrid consequences. I will not say that Knox paid no respect whatever to his early ordination in the popish Church (although, if we credit the testimony of his adversaries, this was his opinion); 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 to his hearers, and of “preaching in season and out of season”; 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 agitation and grief. At length, satisfied that he had the call of God to engage in this work, he composed his mind to a reliance on Him who had engaged to make His “strength perfect in the weakness” of His servants, and resolved, with the apostle, “not to count his life dear, that he might finish with joy the ministry which he received of the Lord, to testify the gospel of the grace of God”. Often did he afterwards reflect with lively emotion upon this very interesting step of his life, and never, in the midst of his greatest sufferings, did he see reason to repent the choice which he had so deliberately made.

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

On the day appointed, he appeared in the pulpit of the parish church, and gave out Daniel 7:24-25 as his text. After an introduction, in which he explained the vision, and showed that the four empires, emblematically represented by four different animals, were the Babylonian, Persian, Grecian, and Roman, out of the ruins of the last of which empires, the power described in his text arose, he proceeded to show that this was applicable to no other power but that of the degenerate Romish Church. He compared the parallel passages in the New Testament, and showed that the king mentioned in his text was the same elsewhere called the man of sin, the antichrist, the Babylonian harlot; and that this did not mean any single person, but a body or multitude of people under a wicked head, including a succession of persons, occupying the same station. In support of his assertion that the papal power was antichristian, he described it under the three heads of life, doctrine, and laws. He depicted the lives of the popes from ecclesiastical history, contrasted their doctrine with that of the New Testament, particularly in the article of justification, and their laws enjoining holy days, abstinence from meats, from marriage, etc., with the laws of Christ. He quoted from the canon law the blasphemous titles and prerogatives ascribed to the Pope, as an additional proof that he was described in his text. In conclusion, he signified that if any present thought that he had misquoted, or misinterpreted the testimonies which he had produced from the Scriptures, history, or writings of the doctors of the Church, he was ready upon their coming to him, in the presence of witnesses, to give them satisfaction. There were among the audience, his former preceptor, Major, the members of the university, the sub-prior of the abbey, and a great number of canons and friars of different orders.

This sermon, delivered with a great portion of that popular eloquence for which Knox was afterwards so celebrated, made great noise, and excited much speculation among all classes. The former Reformed preachers, not excepting Wishart, had contented themselves with refuting some of the grosser errors of the established religion. Knox struck at the root of popery, by bolding pronouncing the Pope to be antichrist, and the whole system erroneous and antiscriptural. The report of the sermon, and the effects produced by it, was soon conveyed to the elect bishop of St. Andrews, who wrote to Winram, the sub-prior and vicar-general during the vacancy of the see, that he was surprised he would allow such heretical and schismatical doctrine to be taught without opposition. Winram was at bottom friendly to the Reformed tenets; but he durst not altogether disregard this admonition, and therefore appointed a convention of the most learned men to be held in St. Leonard’s Yards, to which he summoned the preachers. Nine articles drawn from their sermons were exhibited, “the strangeness of which (the sub-prior said) had moved him to call for them to hear their answers”.

Knox, when called, expressed his satisfaction at appearing before an auditory so honorable and apparently so modest and grave. As he was not a stranger to the report concerning the private sentiments of Winram, and nothing was more abhorrent to his mind than dissimulation, he, before commencing his defense, obtested him to deal uprightly in a matter of such magnitude; if he advanced any thing which was contrary to Scripture, he desired the sub-prior to oppose it, that the people might not be deceived, but if he was convinced that what he taught was true and scriptural, it was his duty to give it the sanction of his authority. To this Winram cautiously replied, that he did not come there as a judge, and would neither approve nor condemn; he wished a free conference, and, if Knox pleased, he would reason with him a little. Accordingly, he proceeded to state some objections to one of the propositions maintained by Knox, “that in the worship of God, and especially in the administration of the sacraments, the rule prescribed in the Scriptures is to be observed without addition or diminution; and that the Church has no right to devise religious ceremonies, and impose significations upon them”. After maintaining the argument for a short time, the sub-prior devolved it on a grey-friar, named Arbugkill, who took it up with great confidence, but was soon forced to yield with disgrace. He rashly engaged to prove the divine institution of ceremonies; and being pushed by his antagonist from the Gospel and Acts to the Epistles, and from one Epistle to another, he was driven at last to affirm, “that the apostles had not received the Holy Ghost when they wrote the Epistles, but they afterwards received Him and ordained ceremonies”. “Father!” exclaimed the sub-prior, “what say ye? God forbid that ye say that; for then farewell the ground of our faith!” The friar, abashed and confounded, attempted to correct his error, but in vain. Knox could not afterwards bring him to the argument upon any of the articles. He resolved all into the authority of the Church. His opponent urging that the Church had no power to act contrary to the express directions of Scripture, which enjoined an exact conformity to the divine laws respecting worship; “if so,” said Arbugkill, “you will leave us no Church”. “Yes,” rejoined Knox, sarcastically, “in David I read of the Church of malignants, ‘Odi ecclesiam malignantium’; ² this Church you may have without the word, and fighting against it. Of this Church if you will be I cannot hinder you; but as for me, I will be of no other Church but that which has Jesus Christ for pastor, hears His voice, and will not hear the voice of a stranger.” For purgatory, the friar had no better authority than that of Virgil in the sixth Aeneid; and the pains of it according to him were

— a bad wife.

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

His labors were so successful during the few months that he preached at St. Andrews, that, besides those in the castle, a great number of the inhabitants of the town renounced popery, and made profession of the Protestant faith, by participating of the Lord’s Supper, which he administered to them in the manner afterwards practiced in the Reformed Church of Scotland. The gratification which he felt in these first fruits of his ministry, was in some degree abated by instances of vicious conduct in those under his charge, some of whom were guilty of those acts of licentiousness too common among soldiery placed in similar circumstances. From the time that he was chosen to be their preacher, he openly rebuked these disorders, and when he perceived that his admonitions failed in putting a stop to them, he did not conceal his apprehensions of the issue of the enterprise in which they were engaged.

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

From Rouen they sailed to Nantes, and lay upon the Loire during the following winter. Solicitations, threatenings, and violence, were all employed to make the prisoners recant their religion, and countenance the popish worship. But so great was their abhorrence of its idolatry, that not a single individual of the whole company, on land or water, could be induced to symbolize in the smallest degree. While the prison-ships lay on the Loire, mass was frequently said, and “Salve Regina” ³ sung on board or on the shore within their hearing: on these occasions they were brought out and threatened with torture, if they did not give the usual signs of reverence; but instead of complying, they covered their heads as soon as the service began. Knox has related a humorous incident which took place on one of these occasions; and although he has not named the person concerned in it, most probably it was himself. One day a fine painted image of the Virgin was brought into one of the galleys, and presented to a Scots prisoner to kiss. He desired the bearer not to trouble him, for such idols were accursed, and he would not touch it. The officers roughly replied, that he should; put it to his face, and thrust it into his hands.

Upon this he took hold of the image, and watching his opportunity, threw it into the river saying, “Let our Lady now save herself: she is light enough, let her learn to swim”. After this, they were no more troubled in that way.

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

We must not, however, think that he possessed this elevation and tranquillity of mind, during the whole time of his imprisonment. When first thrown into cruel bonds, insulted by his enemies, and without any apparent prospect of release, he was not a stranger to the anguish of despondency, so pathetically described by the royal psalmist of Israel. He felt that conflict in his spirit, with which all good men are acquainted; and which becomes peculiarly sharp when joined with corporate affliction. But, having had recourse to prayer, the never-failing refuge of the oppressed, he was relieved from all his fears, and, reposing upon the promise and providence of the God whom he served, attained to “the confidence and rejoicing of hope”.

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

Notwithstanding the rigor of their confinement, the prisoners, who were separated, found opportunities of occasionally corresponding with one another. Henry Balnaves of Halhill composed in his prison a “Treatise on Justification and the Works and Conversation of a Justified Man”. This being conveyed to Knox, probably after his second return in the galleys from Scotland, he was so much pleased with it, that he divided it into chapters, added some marginal notes, and a concise epitome of its contents; to the whole he prefixed a recommendatory dedication, intending that it should be published for the use of their brethren in Scotland, as soon as an opportunity offered. The reader will not, I am persuaded, be displeased to breathe a little the spirit which animated this undaunted confessor, when “his feet lay fast in irons”, as expressed by him in this dedication; from which I shall quote more freely, as the book is rare.

It is thus described: “John Knox, the bound servant of Jesus Christ, unto his best beloved brethren of the congregation of the castle of St. Andrews, and to all professors of Christ’s true evangel, desireth grace, mercy and peace, from God the Father, with perpetual consolation of the Holy Spirit.” After mentioning a number of instances in which the name of God was magnified, and the interests of religion advanced, by the exile of those who were driven from their native countries by tyranny, as in the examples of Joseph, Moses, Daniel, and the primitive Christians; he goes on thus: “Which thing shall openly declare this godly work subsequent.

The counsel of Satan in the persecution of us, first, was to stop the wholesome wind of Christ’s evangel to blow upon the parts where we converse and dwell; and secondly, so to oppress ourselves by corporal affliction and worldly calamities, that no place should we find to godly study. But by the great mercy and infinite goodness of God our Father shall these his counsels be frustrate and vain. For, in despite of him and all his wicked members, shall yet that same word (O Lord! this I speak, confiding in thy holy promise) openly be proclaimed in that same country. And how that our merciful Father, amongst these tempestuous storms, by all men’s expectation, hath provided some rest for us, this present work shall testify, which was sent to me in Rouen, lying in irons, and some troubled by corporal infirmity, in a galley named Nostre Dame, by an honorable brother, Mr. Henry Balnaves of Halhill, for the present holden as prisoner (though unjustly) in the old palace of Rouen. Which work after I had once again read to the great comfort and consolation of my spirit, by counsel and advice of the foresaid noble and faithful man, author of the said work, I thought expedient it should be digested in chapters, etc. Which thing I have done as imbecility of ingine ⁴ and incommodity of place would permit; not so much to illustrate the work (which in the self is godly and perfect) as, together with the foresaid nobleman and faithful brother, to give my confession of the article of justification therein contained. And I beseech you, beloved brethren, earnestly to consider, if we deny any thing presently (or yet conceal and hide) which any time before we professed in that article. And now we have not the Castle of St. Andrews to be our defense, as some of our enemies falsely accused us, saying, If we wanted ⁵ our walls, we would not speak so boldly. But blessed be that Lord whose infinite goodness and wisdom hath taken from us the occasion of that slander, and hath shown unto us, that the serpent hath power only to sting the heel, that is, to molest and trouble the flesh, but not to move the spirit, from constant adhering to Christ Jesus, nor public professing of His true word. O blessed be Thou, Eternal Father, which, by Thy only mercy, hast preserved us to this day, and provided that the confession of our faith (which ever we desired all men to have known) should, by this treatise, come plainly to light. Continue, O Lord, and grant unto us, that as now with pen and ink, so shortly we may confess with voice and tongue the same before Thy congregation; upon whom look, O Lord God, with the eyes of Thy mercy, and suffer no more darkness to prevail. I pray you, pardon me, beloved brethren, that on this manner, I digress; vehemence of spirit (the Lord knoweth I lie not) compelleth me thereto.”

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

At length, after enduring a tedious and severe imprisonment of nineteen months, Knox obtained his liberty. This happened in the month of February 1549, according to the modern computation. By what means his liberation was procured, I cannot certainly determine. One account says, that the galley in which he was confined, was taken in the Channel by the English. According to another account, he was liberated by order of the king of France, because it appeared, on examination, that he was not concerned in the murder of the Cardinal, nor accessory to other crimes committed by those who held the castle of St. Andrews. Others say, that his acquaintances purchased his liberty, induced by the hopes which they cherished of great things to be accomplished by him. It is not improbable, however, that he owed his liberty to the circumstance of the French Court having now accomplished their great object in Scotland, by the consent of the parliament to the marriage of their young Queen to the Dauphin, and by obtaining possession of her person; after which they felt less inclined to revenge the quarrels of the Scottish clergy.

Upon regaining his liberty, Knox immediately repaired to England. The objections which he had formerly entertained against a residence in that kingdom were now in a great measure removed. Henry VIII. died in the year 1547; and Archbishop Cranmer, released from the severe restraint under which he had been held by his tyrannical and capricious master, exerted himself with much zeal in advancing the Reformation. In this he was cordially supported by those who governed the kingdom during the minority of Edward VI. But the undertaking was extensive and difficult, and in carrying it on, he found a great deficiency of ecclesiastical coadjutors. The greater part of the incumbent bishops, though they externally complied with the alterations introduced by authority, remained attached to the old religion, and secretly thwarted, instead of seconding the measures of the Primate. The mass of the people were sunk in wretched ignorance of religion, and from ignorance were addicted to those superstitions to which they had been always accustomed: while the inferior clergy, in general, were as unwilling as they were unable to undertake their instruction. Cranmer, with the concurrence of the Protector, had invited learned Protestants to come from Germany into England, and placed Peter Martyr, Martin Bucer, Paul Fagius, and Emanuel Tremellius, as professors in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. This was a wise measure, as it secured a future supply of useful preachers, trained up by these able masters. But the necessity was urgent, and demanded immediate provision. For this purpose, it was judged expedient, instead of fixing a number of orthodox and popular preachers in particular charges, to employ them in itinerating through different parts of the kingdom, where the clergy were most illiterate or disaffected, and the inhabitants most addicted to superstition.

In these circumstances, our zealous countryman did not remain long unemployed. The reputation which he had gained by preaching at St. Andrews was not unknown in England, and his late sufferings recommended him to Cranmer and the Privy Council. He was accordingly, soon after his arrival in England, sent down from London, by their authority, to preach in Berwick; a situation the more acceptable to him, as it afforded him an opportunity to ascertain the state of religion in his native country, to correspond with his friends, and impart to them his advice. The Council had every reason to be pleased with the choice which they had made of a northern preacher. He had long thirsted for the opportunity which he now enjoyed. His captivity, during which he had felt the powerful support which the Protestant doctrine yielded to his mind, had inflamed his love to it, and his zeal against popery. He spared neither time nor bodily strength in the instruction of those to whom he was sent. Regarding the worship of the popish Church as grossly idolatrous, and its doctrine as damnable, he attacked both with the utmost fervor, and exerted himself in drawing his hearers from them, with as much eagerness as in saving their lives from a devouring flame or flood. Nor were his labors fruitless: during the two years that he continued in Berwick, numbers were, by his ministry, converted from error and ignorance, and a general reformation of manners became visible among the soldiers of the garrison, who had formerly been noted for turbulence and licentiousness.

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

The labors of Knox within his diocese, who exerted himself to overthrow what the bishop wished to support, must have been very disagreeable to Tonstal. As the preacher acted under the sanction of the Protector and Council, he durst not inhibit him; but he was disposed to listen to and encourage informations lodged by the clergy against the doctrine which he taught. Although the town of Berwick was Knox’s principal station during the years 1549 and 1550, it is probable that he was appointed to preach occasionally in the adjacent country. Whether, in the course of his itinerancy, he had, in the beginning of 1550, gone as far as Newcastle, and preached in that town, or whether he was called up to it, in consequence of complaints against his sermons delivered at Berwick, does not clearly appear. It is, however, certain, that a charge was exhibited against him before the bishop, for teaching that the sacrifice of the mass was idolatrous, and a day appointed for him publicly to assign his reasons for this opinion. Accordingly, on the 4th of April 1550, a great assembly being convened in Newcastle, among whom were the members of the Council, the Bishop of Durham, and the learned men of his cathedral, Knox delivered, in their presence, an ample defense of the doctrine, against which complaints had been made. After an appropriate exordium, in which he stated to the audience the occasion and design of his appearance before them, and cautioned them against the powerful prejudices of education and custom in favor of erroneous opinions and practices in religion, he proceeded to establish the doctrine which he had taught. The mode in which he treated the subject was well adapted to his auditory, which was composed of the unlearned as well as the learned. He proposed his arguments in the syllogistic form, according to the practice of the schools, but illustrated them with a plainness level to the meanest capacity among his hearers. Passing over the more gross notions, and the shameful traffic in masses, extremely common at that time, he engaged to prove that the mass, “in her most high degree, and most honest garments”, was an idol struck from the inventive brain of superstition, which had supplanted the sacrament of the Supper, and engrossed the honor due to the person and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. “Spare no arrows,” was the motto which Knox wore on his standard; the authority of Scripture, and the force of reasoning, grave reproof, and pointed irony, were in their turn employed by him. In the course of this defense, he did not restrain those sallies of raillery, which the fooleries of the popish superstition irresistibly provoke, even from those who are deeply impressed with its pernicious tendency. Before concluding, he adverted to certain doctrines which had been taught in that place on the preceding Sabbath, the falsehood of which he was prepared to demonstrate; but he would, in the first place, he said, submit to the preacher the notes of the sermon which he had taken down, that he might correct them as he saw proper; for his object was not to misrepresent or captiously entrap a speaker, by catching at words unadvisedly uttered, but to defend the truth, and warn his hearers against errors destructive to their souls.

This defense had the effect of extending Knox’s fame through the north of England, while it completely silenced the bishop and his learned suffragans. He continued to preach at Berwick during the remaining part of this year, and in the following was removed to Newcastle, and placed in a sphere of greater usefulness. In December 1551, the Privy Council conferred on him a mark of their approbation, by appointing him one of King Edward’s chaplains in ordinary. “It was appointed,” says His Majesty, in a journal of important transactions which he wrote with his own hand, “that I should have six chaplains in ordinary, of which two ever to be present, and four absent in preaching; one year two in Wales, two in Lancashire and Derby; next year two in the marches of Scotland, and two in Yorkshire; the third year two in Norfolk and Essex, and two in Kent and Sussex. These six to be Bill, Harle, Perne, Grindal, Bradford, and --.” The name of the sixth has been dashed out of the journal, but the industrious Strype has shown that it was Knox. “These it seems,” says Bishop Burnet, “were the most zealous and readiest preachers, who were sent about as itinerants, to supply the defects of the greatest part of the clergy, who were generally very faulty.” An annual salary of £40 was allotted to each of the chaplains.

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

During his residence at Berwick, Knox had formed an acquaintance with Miss Marjory Bowes, a young lady who afterwards became his wife. She belonged to the honorable family of Bowes, and was nearly allied to Sir Robert Bowes, a distinguished courtier during the reigns of Henry VIII. and his son Edward. Before he left Berwick, he had paid his addresses to this young lady, and met with a favorable reception. Her mother was also friendly to the match; but, owing to some reason, most probably the presumed aversion of her father, it was deemed prudent to delay the consummating of the union. But having come under a formal promise to her, he considered himself as sacredly bound, and, in his letters to Mrs. Bowes, always addressed her by the name of Mother.

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

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

In taking this step, they were not a little encouraged by their knowledge of the sentiments of the Duke of Northumberland, who had lately come down to his charge as warden-general of the northern marches. This ambitious and unprincipled nobleman had employed his affected zeal for the Reformed religion, as a stirrup to mount to the highest preferment in the state, which he had recently procured by the ruin of the Duke of Somerset, the Protector of the kingdom. Knox had offended him by publicly lamenting the fall of Somerset, as threatening danger to the Reformation, of which he had always shown himself a zealous friend, whatever his other faults might have been. Nor could the freedom which the preacher used, in reproving from the pulpit the vices of great as well as small, fail to be displeasing to a man of Northumberland’s character. On these accounts, he was desirous to have Knox removed from that quarter, and had actually applied for this, by a letter to the Council, previous to the occurrence just mentioned; alleging, as a pretext, the great resort of Scotsmen unto him: as if any real danger was to be apprehended from this intercourse with a man, of whose fidelity the existing government had so many strong pledges, and who uniformly employed all his influence to remove the prejudices of his countrymen against England.

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

Upon reaching London he found that his enemies had been uncommonly industrious in exciting prejudices against him, by transmitting the most false and injurious information. But the Council, after hearing his defenses, were convinced of their malice, and honorably acquitted him. He was employed to preach before the court, and gave great satisfaction, particularly to His Majesty, who contracted a favor for him, and was very desirous to have him promoted in the Church. It was resolved by the Council that he should preach in London, and the southern counties, during the year 1553; but he was allowed to return for a short time to Newcastle, either to settle his affairs, or as a public testimony of his innocence. In a letter to his sister, dated Newcastle, 23rd March 1553, we find him writing as follows: “Look further of this matter in the other letter, written unto you at such a time as many thought I should never write after to man. Heinous were the delations laid against me, and many are the lies that are made to the Council. But God one day shall destroy all lying tongues, and shall deliver His servants from calamity. I look but one day or other to fall in their hands; for more and more rageth the members of the devil against me. This assault of Satan has been to his confusion, and to the glory of God. And therefore, sister, cease not to praise God, and to call for my comfort; for great is the multitude of enemies, whom every one the Lord shall confound. I intend not to depart from Newcastle before Easter.”

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

About the beginning of April 1553, he returned to London. In the month of February preceding, Archbishop Cranmer had been desired by the Council to present him to the vacant living of All-Hallows in that city. This proposal, which originated in the personal favor of the young king, was very disagreeable to Northumberland, who exerted himself privately to hinder his preferment. His interference was, however, unnecessary on the present occasion; for when the living was offered to him, Knox declined it, and when questioned as to his reasons, readily acknowledged, that he had not freedom in his mind to accept of a fixed charge, in the present state of the English Church. His refusal, with the reason assigned, having given offense, he was, on the 14th of April, called before the Privy Council. There were present the Archbishop of Canterbury, Goodrick, Bishop of Ely and Lord Chancellor, the Earls of Bedford, Northampton, and Shrewsbury, the Lords Treasurer and Chamberlain, with the two Secretaries. They asked him, why he had refused the benefice provided for him in London. He answered, that he was fully satisfied that he could be more useful to the Church in another situation. Being interrogated, if it was his opinion, that no person could lawfully serve in ecclesiastical ministrations, according to the present laws of that realm, he frankly replied, that there were many things which needed reformation, without which ministers could not, in his opinion, discharge their office conscientiously in the sight of God; for no minister, according to the existing laws, had power to prevent the unworthy from participating of the sacraments, which was a chief point of his office. He was asked, if kneeling at the Lord’s table was not indifferent. He replied that Christ’s action was most perfect, and in it no such posture was used; that it was most safe to follow His example; and that kneeling was an addition and an invention of men. On this article there was a smart dispute between him and some of the Lords of the Council. After long reasoning he was told, that they had not sent for him with any bad design, but were sorry to understand that he was of a contrary judgment to the common order. He said he was sorry that the common order was contrary to Christ’s institution. They dismissed him with soft speeches, advising him to endeavor to bring his mind to communicate according to the established rites.

If honors and emoluments could have biased the independent mind of our countryman, he must have been induced to become a full conformist to the English Church. At the special request of Edward VI., and with the concurrence of his council, he was offered a bishopric; but the same reasons which prevented him from accepting the living of All-Hallows, determined him to reject this more tempting offer. The fact is attested by Beza, who adds, that his refusal was accompanied with a censure of the Episcopal office, as destitute of divine authority, and not even exercised in England according to the ecclesiastical canons. Knox himself speaks in one of his treatises of the high promotions offered to him by Edward; and we shall find him at a later period of his life expressly asserting that he had refused a bishopric.

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

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

He rejoiced that liberty and encouragement were given to preach the pure Word of God throughout the extensive realm of England; that idolatry and gross superstition were suppressed; and that the rulers were disposed to support the Reformation, and even to carry it farther than had yet been done. Considering the character of the greater part of the clergy, the extreme paucity of useful preachers, and other hindrances to the introduction of the primitive order and discipline of the Church, he acquiesced in the authority exercised by a part of the bishops, under the direction of the Privy Council, and endeavored to strengthen their hands, in the advancement of the common cause, by painful preaching in the stations which were assigned to him. But he could not be induced to contradict or conceal his decided sentiments, and cautiously avoided coming under engagements, by which he would have approved what he was convinced to be unlawful, or injurious to the interests of religion.

Upon these principles, he never submitted to the unlimited use of the liturgy, during the time that he was in England, refused to become a bishop, and declined accepting a fixed charge, when he perceived that progress in reformation was arrested, by the influence of a popish fiction and the dictates of a temporizing policy; that abuses which had formerly been acknowledged, began to be vindicated and stiffly maintained; above all, when he saw, after the accession of Elizabeth, that a retrograde course was taken, and a yoke of ceremonies, more grievous than that which the most sincere Protestants had formerly complained of, was imposed and enforced by arbitrary statutes, he judged it necessary to speak in a tone of more decided and severe reprehension.

Among other things which he censured in the English ecclesiastical establishment, were the continuing to employ a great number of ignorant and insufficient priests, who had been accustomed to nothing but saying mass, and singing the litany; the general substitution of the reading of homilies, the mumbling of prayers, or the chanting of matins or evensong, in the place of preaching; the formal celebration of the sacraments, unaccompanied with instruction to the people; the scandalous prevalence of pluralities; and the total want of ecclesiastical discipline. He was of opinion that the clergy ought not