Knox's exile, his labors in Dieppe, Geneva, and Frankfurt, and his return to Scotland to advance the Reformation there.
This section consists of Chapters 4-6. They are listed
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From the
year 1554, when he left England,
to the year 1556, when he returned to Geneva, after visiting Scotland
Providence, having more important services in reserve for Knox, made use of the urgent importunities of his friends to hurry him away from those dangers to which, had he been left to the determination of his own mind, his zeal and fearlessness would have prompted him to expose himself. No sooner did he reach a foreign shore than he began to regret the course which he had been induced to take. When he thought upon his fellow preachers, whom he had left behind him immured in dungeons, and the people lately under his charge, now scattered abroad as sheep without a shepherd, he felt an indescribable pang, and an almost irresistible desire to return and share in the hazardous but honorable conflict. Although he had only complied with the divine direction, "when they persecute you in one city, flee ye unto another," and although in his own breast he stood acquitted of cowardice, yet he found it difficult to divest his conduct of the appearance of that weakness, and was afraid that it might operate as a discouragement to his brethren in England, and induce them to make sinful compliances with a view of saving their lives.
On this subject we find him unbosoming himself to Mrs. Bowes in his letters from Dieppe. "The desire that I have to hear of your continuance with Christ Jesus, in the day of this his battle (which shortly shall end to the confusion of his proud enemies), neither by tongue nor by pen can I express, beloved mother. Assuredly, it is such, that it vanquisheth and overcometh all remembrance and solicitude which the flesh useth to take for feeding and defense of herself. For, in every realm and nation, God will stir up some one or other to minister those things that appertain to this wretched life, and, if men will cease to do their office, yet will he send his ravens, so that in every place, perchance, I may find some fathers to my body. But, alas! where I shall find children to be begotten unto God by the word of life, that can I not presently consider; and therefore the spiritual life of such as some time boldly professed Christ (God knoweth), is to my heart more dear than all the glory, rides, and honor in earth; and the falling back of such men, as I hear daily to turn back to that idol again, is to me more dolorous than, I trust, the corporal death shall be, whenever it shall come at God’s appointment. Some will ask, Then why did I flee ? Assuredly I cannot tell, but of one thing I am sure, the fear of death was not the chief cause of my fleeing. I trust that one cause hath been to let me see with my corporal eyes that all had not a true heart to Christ Jesus, that, in the day of rest and peace, bare a fair face. But my fleeing is no matter; by God’s grace I may come to battle before that all the conflict be ended. And haste the time, O Lord, at thy good pleasure, that once again my tongue may yet praise thy holy name before the congregation, if it were but in the very hour of death!"—"I would not bow my knee before that most abominable idol for all the torments that earthly tyrants can devise, God so assisting me, as his Holy Spirit presently moveth me to write unfeignedly. And albeit that I have, in the beginning of this battle, appeared to play the faint-hearted and feeble soldier (the cause I remit to God), yet my prayer is that I may be restored to the battle again. And blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I am not left so bare without comfort, but my hope is to obtain such mercy, that, if a short end be not made of all my miseries by final death (which to me were no small advantage), that yet, by Him who never despised the sobs of the sore afflicted, I shall be so encouraged to fight, that England and Scotland shall both know that I am ready to suffer more than either poverty or exile for the profession of that doctrine, and that heavenly religion, whereof it has pleased his merciful providence to make me, among others, a simple soldier and witness-bearer unto men. And therefore, mother, let no fear enter into your heart, as that I, escaping the furious rage of these ravening wolves that, for our unthankfulness, are lately loosed from their bands, do repent any thing of my former fervency. No, mother; for a few sermons by me to be made within England, my heart at this hour could be content to suffer more than nature were able to sustain; as, by the grace of the most mighty and most merciful God, who only is God of comfort and consolation through Christ Jesus, one day shall be known."
In his present sequestered situation, Knox had full leisure to meditate upon the surprising vicissitudes in his lot during the last seven years—his singular call to the ministry and employment at St. Andrews—his subsequent imprisonment and release—the sphere of usefulness in which he had been placed in England, with the afflicting manner in which he was excluded from it, and driven to seek refuge as an exile in that country to which he had formerly been carried as a prisoner. This last event seemed in a special manner to summon him to a solemn review of the manner in which he had discharged the sacred trust committed to him, as "a steward of the mysteries of God." It will throw light on his character, and may not be without use to such as occupy a public station in the Church, to exhibit the result of his reflection on this subject.
He could not deny, without ingratitude to Him who had called him to be his servant, that his qualifications for the ministry had been in no small degree improved since he came to England; and he had the testimony of his own conscience, in addition to that of his numerous auditors, that he had not altogether neglected the gifts bestowed on him, but had exercised them with some measure of fidelity and painfulness. At the same time he found reason for self-accusation on different grounds. Having mentioned in one of his letters the reiterated charge of Christ to Peter, "Feed my sheep, feed my lambs," he exclaims, "Oh, alas! how small is the number of pastors that obeys this commandment. But this matter will I not deplore, except that I, not speaking of others, will accuse myself that do not, I confess, the uttermost of my power in feeding the lambs and sheep of Christ. I satisfy, peradventure, many men in the small labors I take, but I satisfy not myself. I have done somewhat, but not according to my duty." In the discharge of private duties, he acknowledges that shame, and the fear of incurring the scandal of the world, had sometimes hindered him from visiting the female part of his charge, and administering to them the instruction and comfort which they craved. In public ministrations, he had been deficient in fervency and fidelity, in impartiality, and in diligence. He could not charge himself with flattery, and his "rude plainness" had given offense to some, but his conscience now accused him of not having been sufficiently plain in admonishing offenders. His custom had been to describe the vices of which his hearers were guilty in such colors that they might read their own image; but, being "unwilling to provoke all men" against him, he had restrained himself from particular application. Though his "eye had not been much set on worldly promotion," he had sometimes been allured by affection for friends and familiar acquaintances, to reside too long in some places, to the neglect of others which had an equal, or perhaps stronger, claim on his labors. Formerly, he thought he had not sinned, if he had not been idle; now he was convinced that it was his duty to have considered how long he should remain in one place, and how many hungry souls were starving elsewhere. Sometimes, at the solicitation of friends, he had spared himself, and devoted to worldly business, or to bodily recreation and exercise, the time which ought to have been employed in the discharge of his official duties. "Besides these," says he, "I was assaulted, yea infected, with more gross sins, that is, my wicked nature desired the favors, the estimation, and praise of men; against which, albeit that sometimes the Spirit of God did move me to fight, and earnestly did stir me (God knoweth I lie not) to sob and lament for these imperfections, yet never ceased they to trouble me when any occasion was offered; and so privily and craftily did they enter into my breast, that I could not perceive myself to be wounded till vainglory had almost got the upper hand. O Lord! be merciful to my great offence; and deal not with me according to my great iniquity, but according to the multitude of thy mercies."
Such was the strict scrutiny which Knox made into his ministerial conduct. To many the offenses of which he accused himself will appear slight and venial, while others will perceive in them nothing worthy of blame; but they struck his mind in a very different light, in the hour of adversity and solitary meditation. If he, whose labors were so abundant as to appear to us excessive, had such reason for self-condemnation, how few are there in the same station who may not say, "I do remember my faults this day!"
He did not, however, abandon himself to melancholy and unavailing complaints. One of his first cares, after arriving at Dieppe, was to employ his pen in writing suitable advices to those whom he could no longer instruct by preaching and conversation. With this view, he transmitted to England two short treatises. The one was an exposition of the sixth Psalm, which, at the request of Mrs. Bowes, he had begun to write in England, but had not found leisure to finish. It is an excellent practical discourse upon that portion of Scripture, and will be read with peculiar satisfaction by those who have been trained to religion in the school of adversity. The other treatise was a large letter, addressed to those in London and other parts of England, among whom he had been employed as a preacher. The drift of it was to warn them against abandoning the religion which they had embraced, or giving countenance to the idolatrous worship now erected among them. The reader of this letter cannot fail to be struck with its animated strain, when he reflects that it proceeded from a forlorn exile, in a strange country, without a single acquaintance, and ignorant where he would find a place of abode or the means of subsistence. As a specimen of elevated piety, and the most fervid eloquence, I cannot refrain from quoting the conclusion of the letter, in which he addresses their consciences, their hopes, their fears, and adjures them, by all that is sacred, and all that is dear to them, as men, as parents, and as Christians, not to start back from their good profession, and plunge themselves and their posterity into the gulf of ignorance and idolatry.
"Allace! sall we, efter so many graces that God has offerit in our day is, for pleasure, or for vane threatnying of thame whome our hart knaweth and our mouthes have confessit to be odious idolateris, altogidder without resistance turne back to our vomit and damnabill ydolatrie, to the perdition of us and our posteritie? O horribill to be hard! Sall Godis halie preceptis wirk no greater obedience in us? Sall nature no otherwayis molifie our hartis? Sall not fatherlie pitie overcum this cruelties? I speik to you, O natural fatheris! Behold your children with the eie of mercie, and considder the end of thair creatioun. Crueltie it were to saif your selves, and damn thame. But, O! more than crueltie, and madnes that cannot be expressit, gif [if], for the pleasure of a moment, ye depryve yourselves and your posteritie of that eternall joy that is ordanit for thame that continewis in confessioun of Christis name to the end. Gif natural lufe, fatherly affectioun, reverence of God, feir of torment, or yit hoip of lyfe, move you, than will ye ganestand that abominabill ydol; whilk, gif ye do not, then, allace! the sone [sun] is gone doun, and the lyht is quyte lost, the trumpet is ceissit, and ydolatrie is placeit in quietnes and rest. But gif God sall strenthin you (as unfainedlie I pray that his Majestie may), then is their but ane dark clude overspred the sone for ane moment, whilk schortlie shall vanische, sa that the beames efter salbe seven fauld mare bryht and amiable nor they were befoir. Your patience and constancie salbe a louder trompit to your posteritie than were the voces of the prophetis that instructit you; and so is not the trompit ceissit sa lung as any baldlie resistith ydolatrie. And, thairfoir, for the tender mercies of God, arme yourselves to stand with Christ in this his schorte battell.
"Let it be knawn to your posteritie that ye wer Christianis, and no ydolateris; that ye learnit Chryst in tyme of rest, and baldlie professit him in tyme of trubill. The preceptis, think ye, are scharpe and hard to be observit; and yet agane I affirme, that comparit with the plagis that call assuredlie fall upon obstinat vdolateris, they salbe fund easie and lycht. For avoyding of ydolatrie ye may perchance be compellit to leave pour native contrie and realme, but obeyris of ydolatrie without end salbe compellit to burne in hell; for avoyding ydolatrie your substance salbe spoillit, but for obeying ydolatrie heavenly ryches sal be lost; for avoyding ydolatrie ye may fall into the handis of earthlie tirantis, but obeyeris, manteaneris, and consentaris to ydolatrie sall not eschaip the handis of the liveing God; for avoyding of ydolatrie your children salbe depryvit of father, friendis, ryches, and of rest, but by obeying ydolatrie they sall be left without God, without the knawledge of his word, and without hoip of his kingdome. Considder, deir brethrene, that how mekill mair [much more] dolorous and fearfull it is to be tormentit in hell than to suffer trubill in erth, to be depryvit of heavenlie joy than to be rubbitt [robbed] of transitorie ryches, to fall in the hands of the liveing God than to obey manis vane and uncertain displeasure, to leif oure children destitute of God than to leif them unprovydit before the world—sa mekill mair feirful it is to obey ydolatrie, or by dissembling to consent to the same, than by avoiding and flying from the abominatioun, to suffer what inconvenient may follow thairupon.
"Ye feir corporall deth. Gif nature admitit any man to live ever, than had your feir sum aperance of reasone. But gif corporall deth be commoun to all, why will ye jeoparde to lois eternall lyfe, to eschaip that which neither ryche nor pure, nether wyse nor ignorant, proud of stomoke nor febill of corage, and finally, no earthlie creature, by no craft nor ingyne [wit] of man, did ever avoid. Gif any eschapit the uglie face and horribill feir of deth, it was thay that baldlie confessit Chryst befoir men. Why aucht the way of lyfe to be so fearful by reasone of any pane, considering that a great number of oure brethrene hes past befoir ws, by tyke dangeris as we feir. A stout and prudent marinell, in tyme of tempest, seeing but one or two schippis, or like weschells to his, pass throughout any danger, and to win a sure harberie, will have gud esperance [hope], by the like wind, to do the same. Allace! sall ye be mair feirfull to win lyfe eternall, than the natural man is to save the corporall lyfe? Hes not the maist part of the sanctis of God from the begynning enterit into thair rest, by torment and trubillis? And yit what complayntis find we in thair mouthis, except it be the lamenting of thair persecuteris? Did God comfort thame? and sall his Majestie despyse us, gif, in fichting againis iniquitie, we will follow thair futstepis? Hie will not."
On the last day of February, 1554, he set out from Dieppe, like the Hebrew patriarch of old, "not knowing whither he went," and "committing his way to God," traveled through France to Switzerland. A correspondence had been kept up between some of the English reformers and the most noted divines of the Helvetic Church. The latter had already heard with the sincerest grief, of the overthrow of the Reformation, and the dispersion of its friends, in England. On making himself known, Knox was cordially received by them, and treated witty the most affectionate hospitality. He spent some time in Switzerland, visiting the particular churches, and conferring with the learned men of that country; and embraced the opportunity of submitting to them certain difficult questions, which were suggested by the present conjuncture of affairs in England, and about which his mind had been greatly occupied. Their views with respect to these coinciding with his own, he was confirmed in the judgment which he had already formed for himself.
In the beginning of May he returned to Dieppe, to receive information from England, a journey which he repeated at intervals as long as he remained on the Continent. The kind reception which he had met with, and the agreeable company which he enjoyed during his short residence in Switzerland, had helped to dissipate the cloud which hung upon his spirits when he landed in France, and to open his mind to more pleasing prospects as to the issue of the present afflicting events. This appears from a letter written by him at this time, and addressed "To his afflicted brethren." After discoursing of the situation of the disciples of Christ during the time that he lay in the grave, and of the sudden transition which they experienced, upon the reappearance of their Master, from the depth of sorrow to the summit of joy, he adds, "The remembrance thereof is unto my heart great matter of consolation. For yet my good hope is, that one day or other, Christ Jesus, that now is crucified in England, shall rise again, in despite of his enemies, and shall appear to his weak and sore troubled disciples (for yet some he hath in that wretched and miserable realm); to whom he shall say, "Peace be unto you; it is I, be not afraid."
His spirit was also refreshed at this time by the information that he received of the constancy with which his mother-in-law adhered to the Protestant faith. Her husband, it appears, took it for granted that she and the rest of the family had consciences equally accommodating with his own. It was not until she had evinced, in the most determined manner, her resolution to forsake friends and native country, rather than sacrifice her religion, that she was released from his importunities to comply with the Roman Catholic religion. Before he went to Switzerland, Knox had signified his intention, if his life was spared, of visiting his friends at Berwick. When he returned to Dieppe, he had not relinquished the thoughts of this enterprise. It is likely that his friends had, in their letters, dissuaded him from it; and, after cool consideration, he resolved to postpone an attempt, by which he must have risked his life without the prospect of doing any good.
Wherefore, setting out again from Dieppe, he repaired to Geneva. The celebrated Calvin was then in the zenith of his reputation and usefulness in that city, and having completed its ecclesiastical establishment, and surmounted the opposition raised by those who envied his authority, or disliked his system of doctrine and discipline, was securely seated in the affections of the citizens. His writings were already translated into most of the languages of Europe; and Geneva was thronged with strangers from England, France, Germany, Poland, Hungary, and even from Spain and Italy, who came to consult him about the advancement of the Reformation, or to find shelter from the persecutions to which they were exposed in their native countries. The name of Calvin was respected by none more than the Protestants of England; and, at the desire of Archbishop Cranmer, he had imparted to the Protector Somerset and to Edward VI his advice as to the best method of advancing the Reformation in that kingdom. Knox was affectionately received by him as a refugee from England, and an intimate friendship was soon formed between them, which subsisted until the death of Calvin in 1564. They were nearly of the same age; and there was a striking similarity in their sentiments, and in the more prominent features of their character. The Genevan reformer was highly pleased with the piety and talents of Knox, who, in his turn, entertained a greater esteem and deference for Calvin than for any other of the reformers. As Geneva was an eligible situation for prosecuting study, and as he approved much of the religious order established in that city, he resolved to make it the ordinary place of his residence during the continuance of his exile.
But no prospect of personal safety or accommodation could banish from his mind the thoughts of his persecuted countrymen. In the month of July he undertook another journey to Dieppe, to inform himself accurately of their situation, and to learn if he could do anything for their comfort. The tidings he received on this occasion tore open those wounds which had begun to close. In Scotland everything was dark and discouraging. The severities used against the Protestants of England daily increased, and, what was still more afflicting to him, many of those who had embraced the truth under his ministry had been induced to return to the communion of the Popish Church. In the agony of his spirit, he wrote to them, setting before them the destruction to which they exposed their immortal souls by such cowardly desertion, and earnestly calling them to repentance. Under his present impressions, he repeated his former admonitions to his mother-in-law, and to his wife, over whose religious constancy he was tenderly jealous. "By pen will I write (because the bodies are put asunder to meet again at God’s pleasure) that which, by mouth, and face to face, ye have heard, that if man or angel labor to bring you back from the confession that once you have given, let them in that behalf be accursed. If any trouble you above measure, whether they be magistrates or carnal friends, they shall bear their just condemnation, unless they speedily repent. But now, mother, comfort you my heart (God grant ye may) in this my great affliction and dolorous pilgrimage; continue stoutly to the end, and bow you never before that idol, and so will the rest of worldly troubles be unto me more tolerable. With my own heart I often commune, yea, and, as it were, comforting myself, I appear to triumph, that God shall never suffer you to fall in that rebuke. Sure I am that both ye would fear and eschame to commit that abomination in my presence, who am but a wretched man, subject to sin and misery like to yourself. But, O mother! though no earthly creature should be offended with you, yet fear ye the presence and offense of Him, who, present in all places, searcheth the very heart and reins, whose indignation, once kindled against the disobedient (and no sin more inflameth his wrath than idolatry doth), no creature in heaven nor in earth is able to appease."
He was in this state of mind when he composed the Admonition to England, which was published about the end of this year. Those who have censured him as indulging in an excessive vehemence of spirit and bitterness of language usually refer to this tract in support of their charge. It is true that he there paints the persecuting Papists in the blackest colors, and holds them up as objects of human execration and divine vengeance. I do not now stop to inquire whether he was chargeable with transgressing the bounds of moderation prescribed by reason and religion, in the expression of his indignation and zeal, or whether the censures pronounced by his accusers, and the principles upon which they proceed, do not involve a condemnation of the temper and language of the most righteous men mentioned in Scripture, and even of our Savior himself. But, I may ask, is there no apology for his severity to be found in the character of the persons against whom he wrote, and in the state of his own feelings, lacerated, not by personal sufferings, but by sympathy with his suffering brethren, who were driven into prisons by their unnatural countrymen, "as sheep for the slaughter," to be brought forth and barbarously immolated to appease the Roman Moloch? Who could suppress indignation in speaking of the conduct of men, who, having raised themselves to honor and affluence by the warmest professions of friendship to the reformed religion under the preceding reign, now abetted the most violent measures against their former brethren and benefactors? What terms were too strong for stigmatizing the execrable system of persecution coolly projected by the dissembling, vindictive Gardiner, the brutal barbarity of the bloody Bonner, or the unrelenting, insatiable cruelty of Mary, who, having extinguished the feelings of humanity, and divested herself of the tenderness which characterizes her sex, continued to urge to fresh severities the willing instruments of her cruelty, after they were sated with blood, and to issue orders for the murder of her subjects, until her own husband, bigoted and unfeeling as he was, turned with disgust from the spectacle?
On such a theme ’tis impious to be calm;
Passion is reason, transport temper here.
Oppression makes a wise man mad; but (to use the words of a modern orator, with a more just application) "the distemper is still the madness of the wise, which is better than the sobriety of fools. Their cry is the voice of sacred misery, exalted, not into wild raving, but into the sanctified frenzy of prophecy and inspiration."
Knox returned to Geneva, and applied himself to study with all the ardor of youth, although his age now bordered upon fifty. It seems to have been at this time that he made himself master of the Hebrew language, which he had no opportunity of acquiring in early life. It is natural to inquire by what funds he was supported during his exile. However much inclined his mother-in-law was to relieve his necessities, the disposition of her husband appears to have put it greatly out of her power. Any small sums which his friends had advanced to him, before his sudden departure from England, were exhausted, and he was at this time very much straitened for money. Being unwilling to burden strangers, he looked for assistance to the voluntary contributions of those among whom he had labored. In a letter to Mrs. Bowes, he says, "My own estate I cannot well declare; but God shall guide the footsteps of him that is wilsome, and will feed him in trouble that never greatly solicited for the world. If any collection might be made among the faithful, it were no shame for me to receive that which Paul refused not in the time of his trouble. But all I remit to his Providence that ever careth for his own." I find that remittances were made to him by particular friends, both in England and Scotland, during his residence on the Continent.
Meanwhile, the persecution growing hot in England, great numbers of Protestants had made their escape from that kingdom. Before the close of the year 1554, there were on the Continent several hundred Englishmen of good education, besides others of different ranks, who had preferred religion to country, and voluntarily encountered all the hardships of exile, that they might hold fast the profession of the Protestant faith. The foreign reformed churches exhibited, on this occasion, an amiable proof of the spirit of their religion, and amply recompensed the kindness which England had shown to strangers during the reign of Edward. They emulated one another in exertions to accommodate the unfortunate refugees who were dispersed among them, and endeavored, with the most affectionate solicitude, to supply their wants and alleviate their sufferings. The principal places in which the English exiles obtained settlements were Zurich, Basle, Geneva, Arrow, Embden, Wesel, Strasburg, Duysburg, and Frankfort.
Frankfort on the Maine was a rich imperial city of Germany, which, at an early period, had embraced the Reformation, and befriended Protestant refugees from all countries, so far as this could be done without coming to an open breach with the emperor, by whom their conduct was watched with a jealous eye. There was already a church of French Protestants in that city. On the fourteenth of July 1554, the English who had come to Frankfort obtained from the magistrates the joint use of the place of worship allotted to the French, with liberty to perform religious service in their own language. This was granted upon the condition of their conforming, as nearly as possible, to the mode of worship used by the French Church, a prudent precaution, dictated by the political situation in which the city was placed. The offer was gratefully accepted by the English, who came to a unanimous agreement that they would omit the use of the surplice, the litany, the audible responses, and some other ceremonies prescribed by the English liturgy, which, "in those reformed churches, would seem more than strange," or which were "superstitious and superfluous." Having settled this point in the most harmonious manner, elected deacons and a temporary pastor, and agreed upon certain rules of discipline, they wrote a circular letter to their brethren who were scattered through different places, informing them of the agreeable settlement which they had obtained, and inviting them to participate in their accommodations at Frankfort, and unite with them in prayers for the afflicted Church of England. The exiles at Strasburg, in their reply to this letter, recommended to them certain persons as well qualified for filling the offices of superintendent and pastor, a recommendation not asked by the congregation at Frankfort, who did not think a superintendent necessary in their situation, and who intended to put themselves under the inspection of two or three pastors invested with equal authority. They accordingly proceeded to make choice of three persons to this office. One of these was Knox, who received information of his election by a letter written in the name of the congregation, and subscribed by its principal members.
The deputation which waited on him with this invitation found him engaged in the prosecution of his studies at Geneva. From aversion to sacrifice the advantages which he enjoyed, or from the apprehension of difficulties that he might meet with at Frankfort, he would gladly have excused himself from accepting the invitation. But the deputies having employed the powerful intercession of Calvin, he was induced to comply, and repairing to Frankfort in the month of November, commenced his ministry with the universal consent and approbation of the Church. Previous to his arrival, however, the harmony which at first subsisted among that people had been disturbed. In reply to the letter addressed to them, the exiles at Zurich had signified that they would not come to Frankfort unless they obtained security that the Church there would "use the same order of service concerning religion, which was, in England, last set forth by King Edward," for they were fully determined "to admit and use no other." They alleged that, by varying from that service, they would give occasion to their adversaries to charge their religion with imperfection and mutability, and would condemn their brethren who were sealing it with their blood in England. To these representations the brethren at Frankfort replied that they had obtained the liberty of a place of worship, upon condition of their accommodating themselves as much as possible to the forms used by the French Church; that there were a number of things in the English service-book which would be offensive to the Protestants among whom they resided, and which had been occasion of scruple to conscientious persons at home; that, by the variations which they had introduced, they were very far from meaning to throw any reflection upon the regulations of their late sovereign and his council, who had themselves altered many things, and had resolved on still greater alterations, without thinking that they gave any handle to their popish adversaries; and still less did they mean to detract from the credit of the martyrs, who, they were persuaded, shed their blood in confirmation of more important things than mutable ceremonies of human appointment. This reply had the effect of lowering the tone of the exiles at Zurich, but it did not satisfy them; and instead of desisting from the controversy, and contenting themselves with remaining where they were, they instigated their brethren at Strasburg to urge the same request, and, by letters and messengers, fomented dissension in the congregation at Frankfort.
When Knox arrived, he found that the seeds of animosity had already sprung up among them. From what we already know of his sentiments respecting the English service-book, we may be sure that the eagerness manifested by those who wished to impose it was very displeasing to him. But so sensible was he of the pernicious and discreditable effects of division among brethren exiled for the same faith, that he resolved to act as a moderator between the two parties, and to avoid, as far as possible, everything which might have a tendency to widen or continue the breach. Accordingly, when the congregation had agreed to adopt the order of the Genevan Church, and requested him to proceed to administer the communion according to it, although he approved of that form, he declined carrying it into practice, until their learned brethren in other places were consulted. At the same time, he signified that he had not freedom to dispense the sacraments agreeably to the English liturgy. If he could not be allowed to perform this service in a manner more consonant to Scripture, he requested that some other person might be employed in this part of duty, in which case he would willingly confine himself to preaching; and if neither of these could be granted, he besought them to release him altogether from his charge. To this last request they would by no means consent.
Fearing that, if these differences were not speedily accommodated, they would burst into a flame, Knox, and some other members of the congregation, drew up a summary of the Book of Common Prayer, and, having translated it into Latin, sent it to Calvin for his opinion and advice. In a reply, dated January 20, 1555, Calvin stated that he was grieved to hear of the unseemly contentions which prevailed among them; that, although he had always recommended moderation respecting external ceremonies, yet he could not but condemn the obstinacy of those who would consent to no change of old customs; that, in the liturgy of England, he had found many tolerable fooleries (tolerabiles ineptias), practices which might be tolerated at the beginning of a reformation, but ought to be removed as soon as possible; that, in his opinion, the present condition of the English exiles warranted them to attempt this, and to agree upon an order more conducive to edification; and that, for his part, he could not understand what those persons meant who discovered such fondness for popish dregs.
This letter, when read to the congregation, had a great effect in repressing the keenness of such as had urged the unlimited use of the liturgy, and a committee was appointed to draw up a form which might put an end to all differences. When this committee met, Knox told them that he was convinced it was necessary for one of the parties to relent before they could come to an amicable settlement; and that he would therefore state what he judged most proper to be done, and having exonerated himself, would allow them, without opposition, to determine as they should answer to God and the Church. They accordingly agreed upon a form of worship in which the English liturgy was followed so far as their circumstances and the general ends of edification permitted. This was to continue in force until the end of April next, and if any dispute arose in the interval, it was to be referred to five of the most celebrated foreign divines. The agreement was subscribed by all the members of the congregation; thanks publicly returned to God for the restoration of harmony; and the communion was received as a pledge of union, and of the burial of all past offenses.
But this agreement was soon after violated, and the peace of that unhappy congregation again broken, in the most wanton and inexcusable manner. On the thirteenth of March, 1555, Dr. Cox, who had been preceptor to Edward VI, came from England to Frankfort, with some others in his company. The first day on which they attended public worship after their arrival, they broke through the established order, by answering aloud after the minister in the time of divine service. Being admonished by some of the elders to refrain from that practice, they insolently replied, "that they world do as they had done in England, and they would have the face of an English Church." "The Lord grant it to have the face of Christ’s Church," says Knox, in an account which he drew up of these transactions, "and therefore I would have had it agreeable, in outward rites and ceremonies, with Christian Churches reformed."
On the following Sabbath, one of their number having intruded himself into the pulpit without the consent of the pastors or the congregation, read the litany while Cox and his accomplices echoed the responses. This offensive behavior was aggravated by the consideration that some of them had, before leaving England, been guilty of compliances with Popery, for which they had not yet given satisfaction to their brethren.
Such an infraction of public order, as well as insult upon the whole body, could not be passed over in silence. It was Knox’s turn to preach on the afternoon of the Sabbath when this occurred. In his ordinary course of lecturing through the book of Genesis, he had occasion to discourse of the manner in which offenses committed by professors of religion ought to be treated. Having mentioned that there were infirmities in their conduct over which a veil should be thrown, he proceeded to remark that offenses which openly dishonored God and disturbed the peace of the Church ought to be disclosed and publicly rebuked. He then reminded them of the contention which had existed in the congregation, and of the happy manner in which, after long and painful labor, it had been ended, to the joy of all, by the solemn agreement which had that day been so flagrantly violated. This, he said, it became not the proudest of them to have attempted. Nothing which was destitute of a divine warrant ought to be obtruded upon any Christian Church. In that book for which some entertained such an overweening fondness, he would undertake to prove publicly, that there were things imperfect, impure, and superstitious; and if any should go about to burden a free congregation with such things, he would not fail, as often as he occupied that place, provided his text afforded occasion, to oppose their design. As he had been forced to enter upon that subject, he would say farther, that, in his judgment, slackness in reforming religion, when time and opportunity were granted for this purpose, was one cause of the divine displeasure against England. He adverted also to the trouble which Bishop Hooper had suffered for refusing to comply with some of the ceremonies, to the want of discipline, and to the well-known fact, that three, four, or five benefices had been held by one man, to the depriving of the flock of Christ of their necessary food.
This free reprimand was highly resented by those against whom it was leveled, especially by such as had held pluralities in England, who insisted that the preacher should be called to account for slandering their mother church. A special meeting being held for the consideration of this affair, the friends of the liturgy, instead of prosecuting their complaints against Knox, began with requiring that Cox and his friends should be admitted to a vote in the discussion. This was resisted by the great majority, on the ground that these persons had not yet subscribed the discipline of the Church, nor given satisfaction for their late disorderly conduct, and their sinful compliances in England. The behavior of our Reformer, on this occasion, was more remarkable for magnanimity than prudence. Although aware of the hostility of Cox’s adherents to himself, and that they sought admission chiefly to overpower him by numbers, he was so confident of the justice of his cause, and so anxious to remove prejudices, that he entreated and prevailed with the meeting to yield to their unreasonable request, and to admit them immediately to a vote. "I know," said he, "that your earnest desire to be received at this instant within the number of the congregation, is, that, by the multitude of your voices, ye may overthrow my cause. Howbeit, the matter is so evident, that ye shall not be able to do it. I fear not your judgment, and therefore do require that ye may be admitted." This disinterestedness was thrown away on the opposite party, for no sooner were they admitted, and had obtained a majority of voices, than Cox, usurping an authority with which he had never been invested, discharged Knox from preaching, and from all interference in the congregational affairs.
The great body of the congregation were indignant at these proceedings, and there was reason to fear that the mutual animosity would break out into a disgraceful tumult. To prevent this, some of the members made a representation of the case to the senate of Frankfort, who, after recommending in vain a private accommodation, issued an order that the congregation should conform exactly to the mode of service used by the French Church, as nothing but confusion had ensued since they departed from it; and threatened, if this was not complied with, to shut up their place of worship. To this peremptory injunction the Coxian faction pretended a cheerful submission, while they clandestinely concerted measures for obtaining its revocation, and enforcing their favorite liturgy upon a reclaiming congregation.
Perceiving the influence which our countryman had in the Church, and despairing to carry their plan into execution so long as he was among them, they determined, in the first place, to rid themselves of his presence. To accomplish this object, they had recourse to one of the basest and most unchristian acts ever employed to ruin an adversary. Two of them, in concurrence with others, went privately to the magistrates, and accused Knox of high treason against the Emperor of Germany, his son Philip, and Queen Mary of England; putting into their hands at the same time a copy of a book which he had lately published, and in which the passages containing the grounds of charge were marked. "O Lord God!" says Knox, when relating this step, "open their hearts to see their wickedness, and forgive them for thy manifold mercies. And I forgive them, O Lord, from the bottom of mine heart. But that thy message sent by my mouth may not be slandered, I am compelled to declare the cause of my departing, and to utter their follies, to their amendment, I trust, and the example of others, who, in the same banishment, can have so cruel hearts as to persecute their brethren." The book which the informers left with the magistrates was his Admonition to England; and the passage upon which they principally fixed, as substantiating the charge of treason against the emperor, was the following, originally spoken to the inhabitants of Amersham in Buckinghamshire, on occasion of the rumor of marriage of Queen Mary with Philip, the son and heir of Charles V, a match which was at that time dreaded by many of the English Catholics. "O England, England! if thou obstinately wilt return into Egypt, that is, if thou contract marriage, confederacy, or league with such princes as do maintain and advance idolatry, such as the emperor, who is no less enemy to Christ than ever was Nero, if for the pleasure of such princes thou return to thy old abominations before used under Papistry, then assuredly, O England, thou shalt be plagued and brought to desolation by the means of those whose favor thou seekest!" The other passages related to the cruelties of the English queen. Not to speak of the extravagance of the charge which they founded upon these passages, and of the unbrotherly spirit which they discovered, it was with little grace and consistency that the sticklers for the English forms availed themselves of the strong language which Knox had employed in the warmth of his zeal, in order to excite prejudices against him; and it would be no difficult task to extract from their writings declamations against their own queen, and against foreign princes, more intemperate than anything that ever proceeded from his pen.
In consequence of this accusation, the magistrates sent for Whittingham, a respectable member of the English congregation, and interrogated him concerning Knox’s character. He told them that he was "a learned, grave, and godly man." They then acquainted him with the serious accusation which had been lodged against him by some of his countrymen, and giving him the book, charged him, sub pœna pacis, to bring them an exact Latin translation of the passages which were marked. This being done, they commanded Knox to desist from preaching until their pleasure should be known. To this command he peaceably submitted, "yet," says he in his narrative, "being desirous to hear others, I went to the church next day, not thinking that my company would have offended any. But as soon as my accusers saw me, they, with...and others, departed from the sermon, some of them protesting with great vehemence that they would not tarry where I was." The magistrates were extremely perplexed how to act in this delicate business. On the one hand, they were satisfied of the malice of Knox’s accusers; on the other, they were afraid that information of the charge would be conveyed to the emperor’s council, which then sat at Augsburg, and that they might be obliged to deliver up the accused to them, or to the Queen of England. In this dilemma, they desired Whittingham to advise his friend privately to retire of his own accord from Frankfort. At the same time, they did not dissemble their detestation of the unnatural conduct of the informers, who, having waited upon them to know the result of their deliberations, were dismissed from their presence with evident marks of displeasure.
On the 25th of March, Knox delivered a most consolatory discourse to about fifty members of the congregation, who assembled at his lodgings in the evening. Next day they accompanied him some miles on his journey from Frankfort, and, with heavy hearts and many tears, committed him to God, and took their leave.
No sooner was Knox gone than Cox, who had privately concerted the plan with Glauberg, a civilian, and nephew of the chief magistrate, procured an order from the senate for the unlimited use of the English liturgy, by means of the false representation that it was now universally acceptable to the congregation. The next step was the abrogation of the code of discipline, and then the appointment of a bishop, or superintendent, over the pastors. Having accomplished these important improvements, they could now boast that they had, "the face of an English church." Yes, they could now raise their heads above all the reformed churches which had the honor of entertaining them, and which, though they might have all the office-bearers and ordinances instituted by Christ, had neither bishop, nor litany, nor surplice! They could now lift up their faces in the presence of the Church of Rome herself, and cherish the hope that she would not altogether disown them! But let me not forget that the men of whom I write were at this time suffering exile for the Protestant religion, and that they really detested the body of Popery, though childishly and superstitiously attached to its attire, and gestures, and language.
The sequel of the transactions in the English congregation at Frankfort does not properly belong to this memoir. I shall only add that after some ineffectual attempts to obtain satisfaction for the breach of the Church’s peace, and the injurious treatment of their minister, a considerable number of the members left the city. Some of them, among whom was Fox, the celebrated martyrologist, repaired to Basle. The greater part went to Geneva, where they obtained a place of worship, and lived in great harmony and love until the storm of persecution in England blew over at the death of Queen Mary; while those who remained at Frankfort, as if to expiate their offense against Knox, continued a prey to endless contention. Cox and his learned colleagues, having accomplished their favorite object, soon left them to compose the strife which they had excited, and provided themselves elsewhere with a less expensive situation for carrying on their studies.
I have been the more minute in the detail of these transactions, not only on account of the share which the subject of this memoir had in them, but because they throw light upon the controversy between the conformists and non-conformists, which runs through the succeeding period of the ecclesiastical history of England. "The troubles at Frankfort" present, in miniature, a striking picture of that contentious scene which was afterwards exhibited on a larger scale in the mother country. The issue of that affair augured ill as to the prospect of an amicable adjustment of the litigated points. It had been usual to urge conformity to the obnoxious ceremonies, from the respect due to the authority by which they were enjoined. But in this instance the civil authority, so far from enjoining, had rather discountenanced them. If they were urged with such intolerant importunity in a place where the laws and customs were repugnant to them, what was to be expected in England, where law and custom were on their side? The divines who received ecclesiastical preferment at the accession of Elizabeth, professed that they desired the removal of these grounds of strife, but could not obtain it from the queen, and I am disposed to give many of them credit for the sincerity of their profession. But as they showed themselves so stiff and unyielding when the matter was wholly in their own power—as some of them were so eager in wreathing a yoke about the consciences of the brethren as to urge reluctant magistrates to rivet it—is it any wonder that their applications for relief were cold and ineffectual, when made to rulers who were disposed to make the yoke still more severe, and "to chastise with scorpions those whom they had chastised with whips?" I repeat it: when I consider the transactions at Frankfort, I am not surprised at the defeat of every subsequent attempt to advance the Reformation in England, or to procure relief to those who scrupled to yield conformity to some of the ecclesiastical laws. I know it is pleaded that the things complained of are matters of indifference, not prohibited in Scripture, not imposed as essential to religion or necessary to salvation, matters that can affect no well-informed conscience; and that such as refuse them, when enacted by authority, are influenced by unreasonable scrupulosity, conceited, pragmatical, opinionative. This has been the usual language of a ruling party, when imposing upon the consciences of the minority. But, not to urge here the danger of allowing to any class of rulers, civil or ecclesiastical, a power of enjoining indifferent things in religion; nor the undeniable fact that the burdensome system of ceremonial observances, by which religion was corrupted under the Papacy, was gradually introduced under these and similar pretexts; nor that the things in question, when complexly and formally considered, are not really matters of indifference; not to insist at present upon these topics, the answer to the above plea is short and decisive. These things appear matters of conscience and importance to the scruplers; you say they are matters of indifference. Why, then, violate the sacred peace of the Church, and perpetuate division; why silence, deprive, harass, and starve men of acknowledged learning and piety, and drive from communion a sober and devout people; why torture their consciences, and endanger their souls, by the imposition of things, which, in your judgment, are indifferent, not necessary, and unworthy to become objects of contention?
Upon retiring from Frankfort, Knox went directly to Geneva. He was cordially welcomed back by Calvin. As his advice had great weight in disposing Knox to comply with the invitation from Frankfort, he felt much hurt at the treatment which had obliged him to leave it. In reply to an apologetic epistle which he received from Dr. Cox, Calvin, although he prudently restrained himself from saying anything which might revive or increase the flame, could not conceal his opinion that Knox had been used in an unbrotherly and unchristian manner, and that it would have been better for his accuser to have remained at home, than to have come into a foreign country as a firebrand to inflame a peaceable society.
It appeared from the event that Providence had disengaged Knox from his late charge, to employ him on a more important service. From the time that he was carried prisoner into France, he had never lost sight of Scotland, nor relinquished the hope of again preaching in his native country. While he resided at Berwick and Newcastle, he had frequent opportunities of personal intercourse with his countrymen, and of learning the state of religion among them. His unintermitted labors, during the five years which he spent in England, by occupying his time and attention, lessened the regret which he felt at seeing the object of his wishes apparently at as great a distance as ever. Upon leaving that kingdom, his thoughts were anxiously turned to Scotland. He found means to carry on an epistolary correspondence with some of his friends at home; one great object of his journeys to Dieppe was to receive their letters; and he had the satisfaction, soon after his retreat from Frankfort, to obtain such information from them as encouraged him to execute his design of paying a visit to his native country. To prepare the reader for the account of this journey, it will be necessary to take a view of the principal events which had occurred in that kingdom from the time that Knox was forced to leave it.
The surrender of the castle of St. Andrews seemed to have given an irrecoverable blow to the reformed interest in Scotland. Among the prisoners conveyed to France were some of the most zealous and able Protestants in the kingdom, and the rest, seeing themselves at the mercy of their adversaries, were dispirited and intimidated. The clergy triumphed in the victory which they had obtained, and flattered themselves that they would now be able with ease to stifle all opposition to their measures. The regent, being guided entirely by his brother, the Archbishop of St. Andrews, was ready to employ all the dower of the State in support of the Church, and for suppressing those who refused to submit to her decisions. During the confusions produced by the invasion of the kingdom under the Duke of Somerset, and by the disastrous defeat of the Scots at Pinkie, in the year 1547, the regent found it his interest not to irritate the Protestants; but no sooner was he freed from the alarm created by these events than he began to treat them with severity. Aware that it would be extremely invidious to prosecute the barons and gentry upon a charge of heresy, and perhaps convinced that such measures in the time of his predecessor had proved injurious to the hierarchy, the crafty primate commenced his attack by bringing them to trial for crimes against the state. Although they had conducted themselves in the most peaceable and loyal manner during the late invasion, and many of them had died under the standard of the regent, they were accused of being secretly favorable to the English, and of holding correspondence with them. Cockburn of Ormiston and Crichton of Brunston were banished and their estates forfeited. Sir John Melville of Raith, a gentleman of distinguished probity and of untainted loyalty, was accused of a traitorous connection with the enemy, and although the only evidence adduced in support of the charge was a letter written by him to one of his sons then in England, and although this letter contained nothing criminal, yet was he unjustly condemned and beheaded. The signing of a treaty of peace with England in 1550 was a signal for the clergy to proceed to acts of more undisguised persecution. Adam Wallace, who had lived for some time as tutor in the family of Ormiston, was apprehended, and being tried for heresy before a convention of clergy and nobility, was committed to the flames on the Castle-hill of Edinburgh. These prosecutions were not confined to persons in holy orders. George Winchester of Kinglassie was summoned before the archbishop and clergy at St. Andrews, and, having made his escape, was condemned as a heretic, and his goods escheated. In the following year, the parliament renewed the laws in support of the Church, and added a new statute against the circulation of heretical ballads and tragedies.
By these severe measures the clergy struck terror into the minds of the nation; but they were unable to conceal the glaring corruptions by which their own order was disgraced, and they could not remain strangers to the murmurs that these had excited throughout the whole kingdom. In the month of November 1549, a provincial council was held at Edinburgh "for the reformation of the Church, and the extirpation of heresy.’’ This council acknowledged that "corruption and profane lewdness of life, as well as gross ignorance of arts and sciences, reigned among the clergy of almost every degree," and they enacted no fewer than fifty-eight canons for correcting these evils. They agreed to carry into execution the decree of the general council of Basle, which ordained that every clergyman who lived in concubinage should be deprived of the revenues of his benefice for three months, and that if, after due admonition, he did not dismiss his concubine, or if he took to himself another, he should be deprived of his benefices altogether. They exhorted the prelates and inferior clergy not to retain in their own houses their bastard children, nor suffer them to be promoted directly or indirectly to their own benefices, nor employ the patrimony of the Church for the purpose of marrying them to barons, or of erecting baronages for them. That the distinction between clergy and laity might be visibly preserved, they appointed the ordinaries to charge the priests under their care to desist from the practice of preserving their beards, which had begun to prevail, and to see that the canonical tonsure was duly observed. To remedy the neglect of public instruction, which was loudly complained of, they agreed to observe the act of the Council of Trent, which ordained that every bishop, "according to the grace given to him," should preach personally four times a year at least, unless lawfully hindered; and that such of them as were unfit for this duty, through want of practice, should endeavor to qualify themselves, and for that end should entertain in their houses learned divines capable of instructing them. The same injunctions were laid on rectors.
They determined that a benefice should be set apart in each bishopric and monastery, for supporting a preacher who might supply the want of teaching within their bounds; that, where no such benefice was set apart, pensions should be allotted; and that, where neither of these was provided, the preacher should be entitled to demand from the rector forty shillings a year, provided he had preached four times in his parish within that period. The council made a number of other regulations, concerning the dress and diet of the clergy, the course of study in cathedral churches and monasteries, union of benefices, pluralities, ordinations, dispensations, and the method of process in consistorial courts. But, not trusting altogether to these remedies for the cure of heresy, they farther ordained that the bishop of each diocese, and the head of each monastery, should appoint "inquisitors of heretical pravity, men of piety, probity, learning, good fame, and great circumspection," who should make the most diligent search after heresies, foreign opinions, condemned books, and particularly profane songs, intended to defame the clergy, or to detract from the authority of the ecclesiastical constitutions.
Another provincial council, held in 1551 and 1552, besides ratifying the preceding canons, adopted an additional expedient for correcting the continued neglect of public instruction. After declaring that "the inferior clergy, and the prelates for the most part, were still unqualified for instructing the people in the catholic faith, and other things necessary to salvation, and for reclaiming the erroneous," they proceeded to approve of a catechism which had been compiled in the Scottish language, ordered that it should be printed, and that copies of it should be sent to all rectors, vicars, and curates, who were enjoined to read a portion of it, instead of a sermon, to their parishioners, on every Sunday and holiday, when no person qualified for preaching was present. The rectors, vicars, and curates were enjoined to practice daily in reading their catechism, lest, on ascending the pulpit, they should stammer and blunder, and thereby expose themselves to the laughter of the people. The archbishop was directed, after supplying the clergy with copies, to keep the remainder beside him "in firm custody," and the inferior clergy were prohibited from indiscreetly communicating their copies to the people, without the permission of their bishops, who might allow this privilege to "certain honest, grave, trusty, and discreet laics, who appeared to desire it for the sake of instruction, and not of gratifying curiosity." If any of the hearers testified a disposition to call into question any part of the catechism, the clerical reader was prohibited, under the pain of deprivation, from entering into dispute with them on the subject, and was instructed to delate them to the inquisitors.
Many of the regulations enacted by these two councils were excellent, but the execution of them was committed to the very persons who were interested in support of the evils against which they were directed. Accordingly, the canons of the Scottish clergy, like those of general councils called for the reformation of the Church, instead of correcting, served only to proclaim the abuses which prevailed. We know from the declarations of subsequent provincial councils, as well as from the complaints of the people, that the licentiousness of the clergy continued, and the catechism which they had sanctioned seems to have been but little used. I have not found it mentioned by any writer of that age, Popish or Protestant, and we know of its existence only from the canon of the Assembly which authorized its use and from a few copies of it which have descended to our time.
The council which met in 1551 boasts that, through the singular favor of the government, and the vigilance of the prelates, heresy, which had formerly spread through the kingdom, was now repressed and almost extinguished. There were still, however, many Protestants in the nation; but they were deprived of teachers, and they satisfied themselves with retaining their sentiments, without exposing their lives to inevitable destruction by avowing their creed or exciting the suspicions of the clergy by holding private conventicles. In this state they remained from 1551 to 1554.
While the Reformation was in this languishing condition, it experienced a sudden revival in Scotland, from two causes which appeared at first view to threaten its utter extinction in Britain. These were the elevation of the queen dowager to the regency of Scotland, and the accession of Mary to the throne of England.
The queen dowager of Scotland, who possessed a great portion of that ambition by which her brothers, the princes of Lorrain, were fired, had long formed the design of wresting the regency from the hands of Arran. After a series of political intrigue, in which she discovered the most consummate and persevering address, she at last succeeded; and, on the tenth of April 1554, the regent resigned his office to her in the presence of parliament, and retired into private life, with the title of Duke of Chastelherault. The dowager had, at an early period, made her court to the Protestants, whom Arran had alienated from him by persecution; and, to induce them to favor her pretensions, she promised to screen them from the violence of the clergy. Having received their cordial support, and finding it necessary still to use them as a check upon the clergy, who, under the influence of the primate, favored the interest of her rival, the queen regent secretly countenanced them, and the Protestants were emboldened again to avow their sentiments.
In the meantime the queen of England was exerting all her power to crush the Reformation; and, had the court of Scotland acted in concert with her for this purpose, the Protestants must, according to all human probability, have been exterminated in Britain. But the English queen having married Philip, King of Spain, while the queen regent was indissolubly attached to France, the rival of Spain, a coldness was produced between these two princesses, which was soon after succeeded by an open breach. Among the Protestants who fled from the cruelty of Mary, some took refuge in Scotland, where they were suffered to remain undisturbed, and even to teach in prorate, through the connivance of the new regent, and in consequence of the security into which the clergy had been lulled by success. Traveling from place to place, they propagated instruction, and by their example and their exhortations fanned the latent zeal of those who had formerly received the knowledge of the truth.
William Harlow, whose zeal and acquaintance with the Scriptures compensated for the defects of his education, was the first preacher who, at this time, came to Scotland. Let those who do not know, or who wish to forget, that the religion which they profess was first preached by fishermen and tentmakers, labor to conceal the occupations of some of those men whom Providence raised up to spread the reformed gospel through their native country. Harlow had followed the trade of a tailor in Edinburgh; but having imbibed the Protestant doctrine, he retired to England, where he was admitted to deacon’s orders, and employed as a preacher during the reign of Edward VI. Upon his return to Scotland, he remained for some time in Ayrshire, and continued to preach in different parts of the country with great fervor and diligence, until the establishment of the Reformation, when he was admitted minister of St. Cuthberts, in the vicinity of Edinburgh.
Some time after him arrived John Willock. This reformer afterwards became the principal coadjutor of Knox, who never mentions him without expressions of affection and esteem. The cordiality which subsisted between them, the harmony of their sentiments, and the combination of the peculiar talents and qualities by which they were distinguished, conduced in no small degree to the advancement of the Reformation. Willock was not inferior to Knox in learning, and though he did not equal him in eloquence and intrepidity, surpassed him in affability, in moderation, and in address; qualities which enabled him sometimes to maintain his station, and to accomplish his purposes, when his colleague could not act with safety or with success. He was a native of Ayrshire, and had belonged to the order of Franciscan friars; but, having embraced the reformed opinions at an early period, he threw off the monastic habit, and fled to England. During the persecution for the Six Articles in 1541, he was thrown into the prison of the Fleet. He afterwards became chaplain to the Duke of Suffolk, the father of Lady Jane Grey, and upon the accession of Queen Mary, left England, and took up his residence at Embden. Having practiced there as a physician, he was introduced to Anne, Duchess of Friesland, who patronized the Reformation, and whose opinion of his talents and integrity induced her to send him to Scotland in the summer of 1555 with a commission to the queen regent, to make some arrangements respecting the trade carried on between the two countries. The public character with which he was invested gave Willock an opportunity of cultivating acquaintance with the leading Protestants, and while he resided in Edinburgh, they met with him in private, and listened to his religious instructions.
Knox received the news of this favorable change in the situation of his brethren with heartfelt satisfaction. He did not know what it was to fear danger, and was little accustomed to consult his own ease, when he had the prospect of being useful in advancing the interests of truth; but he acknowledges that, on the present occasion, he was at first averse to a journey into Scotland, notwithstanding some encouraging circumstances in the intelligence which he had received from that quarter. He had been so much tossed about of late, that he felt a peculiar relish in the learned leisure which he at present enjoyed, and which he was desirous to prolong. His anxiety to see his wife, after an absence of nearly two years, and the importunity with which his mother-in-law, in her letters, urged him to visit them, determined him at last to undertake the journey. Setting out from Geneva in the month of August 1555, he came to Dieppe, and sailing from that port, landed on the east coast, near the boundaries between Scotland and England, about the end of harvest. He repaired immediately to Berwick, where he had the satisfaction of finding his wife and her mother in comfortable circumstances, and enjoying the happiness of religious society with several individuals in that city, who, like themselves, had not "bowed the knee" to the established idolatry, nor consented to "receive the mark" of antichrist.
Having remained some time with them, he set out secretly to visit the Protestants in Edinburgh, intending, after a short stay, to return to Berwick. But he found employment which detained him beyond his expectation. He lodged with James Syme, a respectable burgess of Edinburgh, in whose house the friends of the Reformation assembled, to attend the instructions of Knox as soon as they were informed of his arrival. Few of the inhabitants of the metropolis had as yet embraced the reformed doctrines, but several persons had repaired to it at this time, from other parts of the country, to meet with Willock. Among these were John Erskine of Dun, whom we had formerly occasion to mention as an early favorer of the new opinions, and a distinguished patron of literature, and whose great respectability of character and approved loyalty and patriotism had preserved him from the resentment of the clergy and the jealousy of the government during successive periods of persecution; and William Maitland of Lethington, a young gentleman of the finest parts, improved by a superior education, but inclined to subtlety in reasoning, accommodating in his religious sentiments, and extremely versatile in his political conduct. Highly gratified with Knox’s discourses, which were greatly superior to any which they had heard from popish or Protestant preachers, they brought their acquaintances along with them to hear him, and his audiences daily increased. Being confined to a private house, he was obliged to preach to successive assemblies, and was unremittingly employed, by night as well as by day, in communicating instruction to persons who demanded it with extraordinary avidity. The following letter, written by him to Mrs. Bowes, to excuse himself for not returning so soon as he had purposed, will convey the best idea of his employment and feelings on this interesting occasion.
"The wayis of man are not in his awn power. Albeit my journey toward Scotland, belovit mother, was maist contrarious to my awn judgment, befoir I did interpryse the same; yet this day I prais God for thame wha was the cause externall of my resort to theis quarteris; that is, I prais God in yow and for yow, whom hie maid the instrument to draw me from the den of my awn eas (you allane did draw me from the rest of quyet studie), to contemplat and behald the fervent thirst of our brethrene, night and day sobbing and gronying for the breide of life. Gif I had not sene it with my eis, in my awn country, I culd not have beleveit it! I praisit God, when I was with you, perceaving that, in the middis of Sodome, God had mo Lottis than one, and mo faithful douchteris than tua. But the fervencie heir doith fer exceid all utheris that I have seen. And thairfor ye sall patiently bear, altho’ I spend heir yet sum dayis; for depart I cannot, unto sic tyme as God quenche thair thirst a littil. Yea, mother, their fervencie doith sa ravische me, that I cannot but accus and condemp my sleuthful coldnes. God grant thame thair hartis desire, and I pray yow adverteis [me] of your estait, and of thingis that have occurit sense your last wrytting. Comfort yourself in Godis promissis, and be assureit that God steiris up mo friendis than we be war of. My commendation to all in your company. I commit you to the protectioun of the Omnipotent. In great haist, the 4. of November, 1555. From Scotland. Your sore, Johne Knox."
Having executed the commission, Willock returned to Embden, and he quitted Scotland with the less regret, as he left behind him one who was so capable of promoting the cause which he had at heart. When he first arrived in Scotland, Knox found that the friends of the reformed doctrine continued, in general, to attend the popish worship, and even the celebration of mass, principally with the view of avoiding the scandal which they would otherwise incur. Highly disapproving of this practice, he labored, in his conversation and sermons, to convince them of the great impiety of that part of the popish service, and the criminality of countenancing it by their presence. Doubts being still entertained on the subject by some, a meeting of the Protestants in the city was held for the express purpose of discussing the question. Maitland defended the practice with all the ingenuity and learning for which he was distinguished, but his arguments were so satisfactorily answered by Knox, that he yielded the point as indefensible, and agreed, with the rest of his brethren, to abstain, for the future, from such temporizing conduct. Thus was a formal separation made from the Popish Church in Scotland, which may be justly regarded as an important step in the Reformation.
Erskine of Dun prevailed on Knox to accompany him to his family seat in the shire of Angus, where he continued a month, during which he preached every day. The principal persons in that neighborhood attended his sermons. After his return to the south of the Forth, he resided at Calder-house, in West Lothian, the seat of Sir James Sandilands, commonly called Lord St. John, because he was chief in Scotland of the religious order of military knights, who went by the name of Hospitallers, or Knights of St. John. This gentleman, who was now venerable for his gray hairs as well as for his valor, sagacity, and correct morals, had long been a sincere friend to the reformed cause, and had contributed to its preservation in that part of the country. In 1548, he had presented to the parsonage of Calder, John Spottiswood, afterwards the reformed superintendent of Lothian, who had imbibed the Protestant doctrines from Archbishop Cranmer in England, and who instilled them into the minds of his parishioners, and of the nobility and gentry that frequented the house of his patron. Among those who attended Knox’s sermons at Calder were three young noblemen, who made a great figure in the public transactions which followed—Archibald Lord Lorn, who, succeeding to the earldom of Argyle at the most critical period of the Reformation, promoted, with all the ardor of youthful zeal, that cause which his father had espoused in extreme old age; John Lord Erskine, afterwards Earl of Mar, who commanded the important fortress of Edinburgh Castle during the civil war which ensued between the queen regent and the Protestants, and died Regent of Scotland; and Lord James Stewart, an illegitimate son of James V who was subsequently created Earl of Murray, and was the first regent of the kingdom during the minority of James VI. Being designed for the Church, the last named nobleman had been in his youth made prior of St. Andrews—a title by which he is often mentioned in history—but, on arriving at manhood, he discovered no inclination to follow the clerical profession. He was at this time in the twenty-second year of his age; and although he had lived for the most part in retirement from the court, had already given proofs of those superior talents which he had soon a more favorable opportunity of displaying. Knox had formerly met with him in London, and his sagacity led him, even at that time, to form the highest expectations from the talents and spirit of the youthful prior. The three noblemen were much gratified with Knox’s doctrine, and his exhortations made an impression upon their minds, which remained during the succeeding part of their lives.
On the back of a picture of our Reformer, which hangs in one of the rooms of Lord Torphichen’s house at Calder, is this inscription: "The Rev. John Knox. The first sacrament of the supper given in Scotland after the Reformation was dispensed in this hall."
In the beginning of the year 1556, he was conducted by Lockhart of Bar, and Campbell of Kineancleugh, to Kyle, the ancient receptacle of the Scottish Lollards, where there were a number of adherents to the reformed doctrine. He preached in the houses of Bar, Kineancleugh, Carnell, Ochiltree, and Gadgirth, and in the town of Ayr. In several of these places he also dispensed the sacrament of our Lord’s Supper. A little before Easter, he went to Finlayston, the baronial mansion of the noble family of Glencairn. William Earl of Glencairn, having been killed at the battle of Pinkie, had been succeeded by his son Alexander, whose superior learning and ability did not escape the discerning eye of Sir Ralph Sadler during his embassy in Scotland. He was an ardent and steady friend to the reformed religion, and had carefully instructed his family in its principles. In his house, besides preaching, Knox dispensed the sacrament of the supper, the earl himself, his countess, and two of their sons, with a number of their friends and acquaintance, participating of that sacred feast.
From Finlayston he returned to Calder-house, and soon after paid a second visit to Dun, during which he preached more openly than before. At this time the greater part of the gentlemen of Mearns made profession of the reformed religion by sitting down at the Lord’s table, and entered into a solemn and mutual bond, in which they renounced the Popish communion and engaged to maintain and promote the pure preaching of the gospel, as Providence should favor them with opportunities.
This seems to have been the first of those religious bonds or covenants by which the confederation of the Protestants in Scotland was so frequently ratified. Although they have been condemned as unwarranted in a religious point of view, and dangerous in a political, yet are they completely defensible upon the principles both of conscience and policy. A mutual agreement, compact, or covenant is virtually implied in the constitution of every society, civil or religious, and the dictates of natural law conspire with the declarations of revelation in sanctioning the warrantableness and propriety of explicit engagements about any lawful and important matter, and of ratifying these, if circumstances shall require it, by formal subscription and by a solemn appeal to the Searcher of hearts. By strengthening the motives to fidelity and constancy, and thus producing mutual confidence among those who are embarked in the same cause, they have proved eminently beneficial in the reformation of churches and nations and in securing the religious and political privileges of men. The misapplication of them, when employed in a bad cause and for mischievous ends, can be no argument against their use in a legitimate way, and for laudable purposes. And the reasoning employed to prove that such covenants should not be entered into without the permission of rulers, would lead to the conclusion that subjects ought never to profess a religion to which their superiors are hostile, nor make any attempts to obtain the reform of abuses or the redress of grievances, without the consent and approbation of those who are interested in their support.
The dangers to which Knox and his friends had been accustomed taught them to conduct matters with such secrecy that he had preached for a considerable time, and in different quarters of the country, before the clergy knew that he was in the kingdom. Concealment was, however, impracticable after his audiences became numerous. His preaching at Ayr was reported to the court, and formed the topic of conversation in the presence of the queen regent. Someone in the company having affirmed that the preacher was an Englishman, "a prelate, not of the least pride, said, ‘Nay; no Englishman, but it is Knox, that knave.’" This was Beatoun, Archbishop of Glasgow. "It was my lord’s pleasure," says Knox, "so to baptize a poor man, the reason whereof, if it should be required, his rochet and mitre must stand for authority. What further liberty he used in defining things alike uncertain to him, to wit, of my learning and doctrine, at this present I omit. For what hath my life and conversation been, since it hath pleased God to call me from the puddle of papistry, let my very enemies speak; and what learning I have, they may prove when they please." Interest was at this time made by the bishops for his apprehension, but without success.
After his last journey to Angus, the friars flocked from all quarters to the bishops, and instigated them to adopt speedy and decisive measures for checking the alarming effects of his preaching. In consequence of this, he was summoned to appear before a convention of the clergy, in the Church of the Blackfriars at Edinburgh, on the fifteenth of May. This diet he resolved to keep, and with that view came to Edinburgh before the day appointed, accompanied by Erskine of Dun and several other gentlemen. The clergy had never dreamed of his attendance. Being apprised of his determination, and afraid to bring matters to extremity, while unassured of the regent’s decided support, they met beforehand, set aside the summons under pretence of some informality, and deserted the diet against him. On the day on which he should have appeared as a culprit, Knox preached in the Bishop of Dunkeld’s large lodging, to a far greater audience than had before attended him in Edinburgh. During the ten following days, he preached in the same place, forenoon and afternoon, none of the clergy making the smallest attempt to disturb him. It was in the midst of these labors that he wrote the following hasty lines to Mrs. Bowes.
"Belovit mother, with my maist hartlie commendation in the Lord Jesus, albeit I was fullie purposit to have visitit yow before this tyme, yet hath God laid impedimentis, whilk I cold not avoyd. They are suche as I dout not ar to his glorie, and to the comfort of many heir. The trumpet blew the ald sound thrie dayis together, till privat houssis of indifferent largenes culd not conteane the voce of it. God, for Christ his Sonis sake, grant me to be myndful, that the sobbis of my hart hath not been in vane, nor neglectit in the presence of his Majestie. O! sweet war the death that suld follow sic fourtie dayis in Edinburgh, as heir I have had thrie. Rejose, mother; the tyme of our deliverance approacheth: for, as Sathan rageth, sa dois the grace of the Halie Spreit abound, and daylie geveth new testymonyis of the everlasting love of oure merciful Father. I can wryt na mair to you at this present. The grace of the Lord Jesus rest with you. In haste—this Monunday—youre sone, John Knox."
About this time, the Earl Marischal was induced to attend an evening exhortation delivered by Knox. He was so much pleased with the discourse, that he joined with Glencairn in urging the preacher to write a letter to the queen regent, which, they thought, might have the effect of inclining her to protect the reformed preachers, if not also to lend a favorable ear to their doctrine. With this request he was induced to comply.
As a specimen of the manner in which this letter was written, I shall give the following quotation, in the original language: "I dout not, that the rumouris, whilk haif cumin to your grace’s earis of me, haif bene such, that (yf all reportis wer trew) I wer unworthie to live in the earth. And wonder it is, that the votes of the multitude suld not so have inflamed your grace’s hart with just hatred of such a one as I am accuseit to be, that all acces to pitie suld have been schute up. I am traducit as ane heretick, accusit as a false teacher and seducer of the pepill, besides other opprobries, whilk (affirmit by men of warldlie honour and estimation) may easelie kendill the wrath of majestratis, whair innocencie is not knawin. But blissit be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Chryst, who, by the dew of his heavenly grace, hath so quenchit the fyre of displeasure as yit in your grace’s hart (whilk of lait dayis I have understood), that Sathan is frustrat of his interpryse and purpois. Whilk is to my heart no small comfort; not so muche (God is witness) for any benefit that I can resave in this miserable lyfe, by protectioun of any earthlie creature (for the cupe whilk it behoveth me to drink is apoyntit by the wisdome of him whois consallis ar not changeable), as that I am for that benefit whilk I am assurit your grace sall resave, yf that ye continew in like moderation and clemencie towards utheris that maist unjustlie ar and sall be accusit, as that your grace hath begun towardis me and my most desperate cause." An orator (he continued) might justly require of her grace a motherly pity towards her subjects, the execution of justice upon murderers and oppressors, a heart free from avarice and partiality, a mind studious of the public welfare, with other virtues which heathen as well as inspired writers required of rulers. But, in his opinion, it was vain to crave reformation of manners when religion was so much corrupted. He could not propose, in the present letter, to lay open the sources, progress, and extent of those errors and corruptions which had overspread and inundated the Church, but, if her majesty would grant him opportunity and liberty of speech, he vas ready to undertake this task. In the meantime, he could not refrain from calling her attention to this important subject, and pointing out to her the fallacy of some general prejudices, by which she was in danger of being deluded. She ought to beware of thinking that the care of religion did not belong to magistrates, but was devolved wholly on the clergy; that it was a thing incredible that religion should be so universally depraved; or that true religion was to be judged of by the majority of voices, by custom, by the laws and determinations of men, or by anything but the infallible dictates of inspired Scripture. He knew that innovations in religion were deemed hazardous, but the urgent necessity and immense magnitude of the object ought, in the present case, to swallow up the fear danger. He was aware that a public reformation might be thought to exceed her authority as a regent; but she could not be bound to maintain idolatry and manifest abuses, nor to suffer the clergy to murder innocent men, merely because they worshipped God according to his word.
Though Knox’s pen was not the most smooth nor delicate, and though he often irritated by the plainness and severity of his language, the letter to the queen regent is very far from being uncourtly or inelegant. It seems to have been written with great care, and in point of style may be compared with any composition of that period, for simplicity and forcible expression. Its strain was well calculated for stimulating the inquiries, and confirming the resolutions, of one who was impressed with a conviction of the reigning evils of the Church, or who, though not resolved in judgment as to the matters in controversy, was determined to preserve moderation between the contending parties. Notwithstanding her imposing manners, the regent was not a person of this description. The Earl of Glencairn delivered the letter into her hand; she glanced over it with a careless air, and gave it to the Archbishop of Glasgow, saying, "Please you, my lord, to read a pasquil." The report of this induced Knox, after he retired from Scotland, to publish the letter, with additions. The style of the additions is more spirited and sharp than that of the original letter, but there is nothing even in them which is indecorous, or which will warrant the charge which has been brought against him of being accustomed to treat crowned heads with irreverence and disrespect. "As charitie," says he, "persuadeth me to interpret thinges doubtfully spoken in the best sence, so my dutie to God (who hath commanded me to flatter no prince in the earth) compelleth me to say, that if no more ye esteme the admonition of God nor the cardinalies do the scoffing of pasquilles; then he shall schortly send you messagers, with whom ye shall not be able on that maner to jest. I did not speak unto you, madame, by my former lettre, neither yet do I now, as Pasquillus doth to the pope, in behalf of such as dare not utter their names; but I come, in the name of Jesus Christ, affirming that the religion which ye maintain is damnable idolatrie: the which I offre myselfe to prove by the most evident testimonies of Goddis Scriptures. And, in this quarrelle, I present myself againste all the Papistes within the realme, desireing none other armore but Goddis holie word, and the libertie of my tonge."
While he was thus employed in Scotland, he received letters from the English congregation at Geneva, stating that they had made choice of him as one of their pastors, and urging him to come and take the inspection of them. He judged it his duty to comply with this invitation and began immediately to prepare for the journey. His wife and mother-in-law had by this time joined him at Edinburgh, and Mrs. Bowes, being now a widow, resolved to accompany Mrs. Knox and her husband to Geneva. Having sent them before him in a vessel to Dieppe, Knox again visited and took his leave of the brethren in the different places where he had preached. He was conducted, by his friend Campbell of Kineancleugh, to the Earl of Argyle, and preached for some days at his seat of Castle Campbell. That aged nobleman appears to have received durable impressions from the instructions of the Reformer. He resisted all the arts which the clergy afterwards employed to detach him from the Protestant interest, and on his deathbed laid a solemn charge upon his son to use his utmost influence for its preservation and advancement. Argyle, and Glenorchy, who was also a hearer of Knox, endeavored to detain him in Scotland, but without success. "If God so blessed their small beginnings," he said, "that they continued in godliness, whensoever they pleased to command him, they should find him obedient. But once he must needs visit that little flock, which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave." Accordingly, in the month of July 1556, he left Scotland, and having joined his family at Dieppe, proceeded along with them to Geneva.
No sooner did the clergy understand that he had quitted the kingdom, than they, in a dastardly manner, renewed the summons against him which they had deserted during his presence, and, upon his failing to appear, passed sentence against him, adjudging his body to the flames, and his soul to damnation. As his person was out of their reach, they caused his effigy to be ignominiously burned at the cross of Edinburgh. Against this sentence he drew up his Appellation, which he afterwards published, with a supplication and exhortation, directed to the nobility and commonalty of Scotland. It may not be improper here to subjoin the summary which he gave in this treatise of the doctrine taught by him during his late visit to Scotland, which the clergy pronounced so execrable, and deserving of such horrible punishment. He taught that there is no other name by which men can be saved but that of Jesus, and that reliance on the merits of others is vain and delusive; that the Savior having by his one sacrifice sanctified and reconciled to God those who should inherit the promised kingdom, all other sacrifices which men pretend to offer for sin are blasphemous; that all men ought to hate sin, which is so odious before God that no sacrifice but the death of his Son could satisfy for it; that they ought to magnify their heavenly Father, who did not spare him who is the substance of his glory, but gave him up to suffer the ignominious and cruel death of the cross for us; and that those who have been washed from their former sins are bound to lead a new life, fighting against the lusts of the flesh, and studying to glorify God by good works. In conformity with the certification of his Master, that he would deny and be ashamed of those who should deny and be ashamed of him and his words before a wicked generation; he further taught that it is incumbent on those who hope for life everlasting to make an open profession of the doctrine of Christ, and to avoid idolatry, superstition, vain religion, and, in one word, every way of worship which is destitute of authority from the word of God. This doctrine he did believe so conformable to God’s holy Scriptures that he thought no creature could have been so impudent as to deny any point or article of it; yet had the false bishops and ungodly clergy condemned him as a heretic, and his doctrine as heretical, and pronounced against him the sentence of death, in testimony of which they had burnt his effigy, from which sentence he appealed to a lawful and general council, to be held agreeably to ancient laws and canons, humbly requesting the nobility and commons of Scotland to take him and others who were accused and persecuted under their protection, until such time as these controversies were decided, and to regard this his plain Appellation of no less effect than if it had been made with the accustomed solemnity and ceremonies.
The late visit of our Reformer was of vast consequence. By his labors on this occasion, he laid the foundations of that noble edifice which he was afterwards so instrumental in completing. The friends of the Protestant doctrine were separated from the corrupt communion to which, in a certain degree, they had hitherto adhered; their information in scriptural truth was greatly improved; and they were brought together in different parts of the nation, and prepared for being organized into a regular church, as soon as Providence should grant them external liberty, and furnish them with persons qualified for acting as overseers. Some may be apt to blame him for abandoning with too great precipitation the undertaking which he had so auspiciously begun. But, without pretending to ascertain the train of reflections which occurred to his mind, we may trace, in his determination, the wise arrangements of that Providence which watched over the infant Reformation and guided the steps of the Reformer. His absence was now no less conducive to the preservation of the cause, than his presence and personal labors had lately been to its advancement. Matters were not vet ripened for a general reformation in Scotland, and the clergy would never have suffered so zealous and able a champion of the new doctrines to live in the country. By retiring at this time, he not only preserved his own life, and reserved his labors to a more fit opportunity, but he also averted the storm of persecution from the heads of his brethren. Deprived of teachers, they became objects of less jealousy to their adversaries, while in their private meetings, they continued to confirm one another in the doctrine which they had received, and the seed lately sown had sufficient time to take root and spread.
Before he took his departure, Knox gave his brethren such directions as he judged most necessary and most useful to them in their present circumstances. Not satisfied with communicating these orally, he committed them to writing in a common letter, which he either left behind him or sent from Dieppe, to be circulated in the different quarters where he had preached. In this letter, he warmly recommends to everyone the frequent and careful perusal of the Scriptures. He inculcates the duty of attending to religious instruction and worship in each family. He exhorts the brethren to meet together once every week, if practicable, and gives them directions for conducting their assemblies in the manner best adapted for their mutual improvement while destitute of public teachers. They ought to begin with confession of sins and invocation of the divine blessing. A portion of the Scriptures should then be read, and they would find it of great advantage to observe a regular course in their reading, and to join a chapter of the Old and of the New Testament together. After the reading of the Scriptures, if an exhortation, interpretation, or doubt occurred to any brother, he might speak, but he ought to do it with modesty, and a desire to edify or to be edified, carefully avoiding "multiplication of words, perplexed interpretation, and willfulness in reasoning." If, in the course of reading or conference, they met with any difficulties which they could not solve, he advised them to commit these to writing, before they separated, that they might submit them to the judgment of the learned, and he signified his own readiness to give them his advice, by letter, whenever it should be required. Their assemblies ought always to be closed, as well as opened, by prayer. There is every reason to conclude that these directions were punctually complied with; this letter may therefore be viewed as an important document regarding the state of the Protestant Church in Scotland previous to the establishment of the Reformation, and shall be inserted at large in the notes.
Among his subsequent letters are answers to questions which his countrymen had transmitted to him for advice. The questions are such as might be supposed to arise in the minds of pious persons lately made acquainted with Scripture, puzzled with particular expressions, and at a loss how to apply some of its directions to their situation. They discover an inquisitive and conscientious disposition, and at the same time, illustrate the disadvantages under which ordinary Christians labor when deprived of the assistance of learned teachers. Our Reformer’s answers display an intimate acquaintance with Scripture, and dexterity in expounding it, with prudence in giving advice in cases of conscience, so as not to encourage a dangerous laxity on the one hand, or scrupulosity and excessive rigidness on the other.
From the year 1556 when he returned to Geneva, after visiting Scotland, to May 1559, when he returned to Scotland for the last time.
Knox reached Geneva before the end of harvest, and took upon him the charge of the English congregation there, among whom he labored during the two following years. This short period was the most quiet of his life. In the bosom of his own family, he experienced that soothing care to which he had hitherto been a stranger, and which his frequent bodily ailments now required. Two sons were born to him in Geneva. The greatest affection to him, and cordiality among themselves, subsisted in the small flock under his charge. With his colleague, Christopher Goodman, he lived as a brother; and he was happy in the friendship of Calvin and the other pastors of Geneva. So much was he pleased with the purity of religion established in that city that he warmly recommended it to his religious acquaintances in England, as the best Christian asylum to which they could flee. "In my heart," says he, in a letter to his friend Mr. Locke, "I could have wished, yea, and cannot cease to wish, that it might please God to guide and conduct me to this place, where, I neither fear nor eshame to say, the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the apostles. In other places I confess Christ to be truly preached, but manners and religion to be to sincerely reformed, I have not yet seen in any other place beside."
But neither the enjoyment of personal accommodations, nor the pleasures of literary society, nor the endearments of domestic happiness could subdue Knox’s ruling passion, or unfit his determination to revisit Scotland, as soon as an opportunity should offer, for advancing the Reformation among his countrymen. In a letter written to some of his friends in Edinburgh, March 16, 1557, he expresses himself in the following manner: "My own motion and daily prayer is, not only that I may visit you, but also that with joy I may end my battle among you. And assure yourself of this, that whenever a greater number among you shall call upon me than now hath bound me to serve them, by his grace it shall not be the fear of punishment, neither yet of the death temporal, that shall impede my coming to you." A certain heroic confidence, and assurance of ultimate success, have often been displayed by those whom Providence has raised up to achieve great revolutions in the world, by which they have been borne up under discouragements which would have overwhelmed men of ordinary spirits and emboldened to face dangers from which others would have shrunk appalled. Knox possessed no inconsiderable portion of that enthusiastic heroism which was so conspicuous in the German reformer. "Satan, I confess, rageth," says he, in a letter written at this time, "but potent is He that promiseth to be with us, in all such enterprises as we take in hand at his commandment, for the glory of his name, and for maintenance of his true religion. And therefore the less fear we any contrary power; yea, in the boldness of our God, we altogether contemn them, be they kings, emperors, men, angels, or devils. For they shall be never able to prevail against the simple truth of God which we openly profess; by the permission of God they may appear to prevail against our bodies, but our cause shall triumph in despite of Satan."
Soon after the above letter had been written, two citizens of Edinburgh, James Syme and James Barron, arrived at Geneva with a letter and credentials from the Earl of Glencairn, and Lords Lorn, Erskine, and James Stewart, informing him that the professors of the reformed doctrine remained steadfast; that its adversaries were daily losing credit in the nation; and that those who possessed the supreme authority, although they had not yet declared themselves friendly to it, continued to refrain from persecution; and inviting him, in their own name, and in that of their brethren, to return to Scotland, where he would find them all ready to receive him, and to spend their lives and fortunes in advancing the cause which they had espoused.
Knox, at the same time that he laid this letter before his congregation, craved the advice of Calvin and the other ministers of Geneva. They gave it as their opinion, "that he could not refuse the call without shewing himself rebellious to God, and unmerciful to his country." His congregation agreed to sacrifice their particular interest to the greater good of the Church, and his own family silently acquiesced. Upon this, he returned an answer to the letter of the nobility, signifying that he meant to visit them with all reasonable expedition. The congregation chose as his successor William Whittingham, a learned Englishman, with whom he had been long united by the ties of friendship and congeniality of sentiment. Having settled his other affairs, he took an affectionate leave of his friends at Geneva, and went to Dieppe in the month of October. But on his arrival there, he received letters from Scotland, written in a very different strain from the former. By these he was informed that new consultations had been held among the Protestants in that country, that some of them began to repent of the invitation which they had given him to return, and that greater part seemed irresolute and faint-hearted.
This intelligence exceedingly disconcerted and embarrassed him. He instantly dispatched a letter to the nobility who had invited him, upbraiding them for their timidity and inconstancy. The information which he had just received, had, he said, confounded him, and pierced his heart with sorrow. After taking advice of the most learned and godly in Europe, to satisfy his own conscience and theirs as to the propriety of this enterprise, the abandonment of it must reflect disgrace either on him or them—it argued either that he had been marvelously forward and vain, or that they had betrayed great imprudence and want of judgment in the invitation which they had given. To some it might appear a small matter that he had left his poor family destitute of a head, and committed the care of his little but dearly-beloved flock to another; but, for his part, he could not name the sum that would induce him to go through that scene a second time, and to behold so many grave men weeping at his departure. What answer could he give to whose who inquired why he did not prosecute his journey? He could take God to witness, that the personal inconveniences to which he had been subjected, and the mortification which he felt at the disappointment, were not the chief causes of his grief. He was alarmed at the awful consequences which would ensue—at the bondage and misery, spiritual and temporal, which they would entail on themselves and their children, their subjects and their posterity, if they neglected the present opportunity of introducing the gospel into their native country. In his conscience, he could exempt none that bore the name of nobility in Scotland from blame in this affair. His words might perhaps appear sharp and indiscreet, but charity would construe them in the best sense, and wise men would consider that a true friend cannot flatter, especially in a matter which involves the salvation of the bodies and souls, not of a few persons, but of a whole realm. "What are the sobs, and what is the affliction, of my troubled heart, God shall one day declare. But this will I add to my former rigor and severity, to wit, if any persuade you, for fear or dangers to follow, to faint in your former purpose, be he esteemed never so wise and friendly, let him be judged of you both foolish and your mortal enemy. I am not ignorant that fearful troubles shall ensue your enterprise, as in my former letters I did signify unto you. But, O! joyful and comfortable are those troubles and adversities which man sustaineth for accomplishment of God’s will revealed in his word. For how terrible soever they appear to the judgment of natural men, yet they are never able to devour nor utterly to consume the sufferers, for the invisible and invincible power of God sustaineth and preserveth, according to his promise, all such as with simplicity do obey him. No less cause have ye to enter in your former enterprise, than Moses had to go to the presence of Pharaoh; for your subjects, yea, your brethren are oppressed, their bodies and souls holden in bondage; and God speaketh to your consciences (unless ye be dead with the blind world), that ye ought to hazard your own lives, be it against kings or emperors, for their deliverance. For only for that cause are ye called princes of the people, and receive honor, tribute, and homage at God’s commandment, not by reason of your birth and progeny (as the most part of men falsely do suppose), but by reason of your office and duty, which is to vindicate and deliver your subjects and brethren from all violence and oppression, to the uttermost of your power.
Having sent off this letter, with others written in the same strain, to Erskine of Dun, Wishart of Pitterow, and some other gentlemen of his acquaintance, he cherished the hope that he would soon receive more favorable accounts from Scotland, and resolved in the meantime to remain in France. The reformed doctrine had been early introduced into that kingdom; it had been copiously watered with the blood of martyrs; and all the violence which had been employed by its enemies had not been able to extirpate it, or to prevent its spreading among all ranks. The Parisian Protestants were at present smarting under the effects of one of those massacres, which so often disgraced the Roman Catholic religion in that country, before as well as after the commencement of the civil wars. Not satisfied with assaulting them when peaceably assembled for worship in a private house and treating them with great barbarity, their adversaries, in imitation of their pagan predecessors, invented the most diabolical calumnies against them and circulated the report that they were guilty of abominable practices in their religious assemblies. The innocent sufferers had drawn up an apology, in which they vindicated themselves from the atrocious charge, and Knox, having got this translated into English, wrote a preface and additions to it, with the intention of publishing it for the use of his countrymen.
Having formed an acquaintance with many of the Protestants of France, and being able to speak their language, he occasionally preached to them in passing through the country. It seems to have been on this occasion that he preached in the city of Rochelle, and having alluded to his native country in the course of his sermon, told his audience that he expected within a few years, to preach in the Church of St. Giles, in Edinburgh.
It does not appear that there were any Protestants in Dieppe when Knox first visited it. But he had now the satisfaction of officiating in a reformed church, recently planted in that town. In the course of the year 1557, a traveling merchant from Geneva, named John Venable, had come to Dieppe, and by his conversation and the circulation of books, imparted the knowledge of the Protestant doctrine to some of the inhabitants. At his request, they were visited by Delajonché, pastor at Rouen, who applied to the ministers of Geneva to furnish them with a preacher. They sent André de Sequeran, sieur d’Amont, who, having removed in the course of a few months, was succeeded by Delaporte, one of the pastors of the Church of Rouen. Knox, having come to Dieppe at this time, was chosen colleague to Delaporte, and under their ministry the Reformation was embraced by some of the principal persons of the town, and amongst the rest by M. de Bagueville, a descendant of Charles Martel. A surprising change was soon observed on the morals of the inhabitants, which had formerly been very dissolute, and the church at Dieppe continued long in a flourishing condition.
Being disappointed in his expectation of letters from Scotland, Knox determined to relinquish his journey and return to Geneva. This resolution does not accord with the usual firmness of our Reformer, and is not sufficiently accounted for in the common histories. The Protestant nobles had not retracted their invitation; the discouraging letters which he had received were written by individuals without any authority from the rest, and if their zeal and courage had begun to flag, his presence was the more necessary to recruit them. From the letters which he wrote to his familiar acquaintance, I am enabled to state the motives by which he was actuated in making this retrograde step. He was perfectly aware that a violent struggle must precede the establishment of the reformation in his native country; he knew that his presence in Scotland would excite the rage of the clergy, who would make every effort to crush their adversaries, and to maintain the lucrative system of superstition; and he dreaded that civil discord and tumult and bloodshed would ensue. The prospect of these things rushed into his mind, and, regardless of public tranquility as some have pronounced him to be, staggered his resolution to prosecute an undertaking, which, in his judgment, was not only lawful, but laudable and necessary. "When," says he, "I heard such troubles as appeared in that realm, I began to dispute with myself as followeth: Shall Christ, the author of peace, concord, and quietness, be preached where war is proclaimed, sedition engendered, and tumults appear to rise? Shall not his evangel be accused as the cause of all this calamity which is like to follow? What comfort canst thou have to see the one half of the people rise up against the other, yea, to jeopard the one to murder and destroy the her? But, above all, what joy shall it be to thy heart, to behold with thy eyes thy native country betrayed into the hands of strangers, which, to no man’s judgment, can be avoided; because, that those who ought to defend it, and the liberty thereof, are so blind, dull, and obstinate, that they will not see their own destruction." To "these and more deep cogitations," which continued to distract his mind for several months after he returned to Geneva, he principally imputed his abandonment of the journey to Scotland. At the same time, he was convinced that they were not sufficient to justify his desisting from an undertaking recommended by so many powerful considerations. "But, alas!" says he, "as the wounded man be never so expert in physic or surgery, cannot suddenly mitigate his own pain and dolour, no more can I the fear and grief of my heart, although I am not ignorant of what is to be done. It may also be that the doubts and cold writing of some brethren did augment my dolour, and somewhat discourage me that before was more nor feeble. But nothing do I so much accuse as myself." Whatever were the secondary causes of this, I cannot help again directing the reader’s attention to the wisdom of Providence, in throwing impediments in his way, by which his return to Scotland was protracted to a period, before which it might have been injurious, and at which it was calculated to be in the highest degree beneficial, to the great cause that he meant to promote.
In judging of Knox’s influence in advancing the Reformation, we must take into view not only his personal labors, but also the epistolary correspondence which he maintained with his countrymen. By this he instructed them in his absence, communicated his own advice and that of the learned among whom he resided upon every difficult case which occurred, and animated them to constancy and perseverance. During his residence at Dieppe, he transmitted to Scotland two long letters, which deserve particular notice. The one, dated on the first of December, is directed to the Protestants in general; the other, dated on the seventeenth of that month, is addressed to the nobility. In both of them he prudently avoids any reference to his late disappointment.
In the first letter he strongly inculcates purity of morals, and warns all who professed the reformed religion against those irregularities of life which were employed to the disparagement of their cause by two classes of persons—by the Papists, who, although the same vices prevailed in a far higher degree among themselves, represented them as the native fruits of the reformed doctrine, and by a new sect, who were enemies to superstition, but who had deserted the reformed communion, and were become scarcely less hostile to it than the Papists. The principal design of this letter was to put his countrymen on their guard against the arts of this last class of persons, and to expose their leading errors.
The persons to whom he referred went under the general name of Anabaptists, a sect which sprung up soon after the commencement of the Reformation under Luther, and, breaking out into the greatest excesses, produced violent commotions in different parts of Germany. Being suppressed in the place of its birth, it spread through other countries, and secretly made converts by high pretensions to seriousness and Christian simplicity, the spirit of wild fanaticism, which at first characterized its disciples gradually subsiding after its first effervescence. Extravagancies of a similar kind have not unfrequently accompanied great revolutions; when the minds of men, released from the fetters of implicit obedience and dazzled by a sudden illumination, have been disposed to fly to the extreme of anarchy and turbulence. Nothing proved more vexatious to the original reformers than this. It was urged by the defenders of the old system as a popular argument against all change. The extravagant opinions and disorderly practices of the new sect, though disowned and opposed by all sober Protestants, were artfully imputed to them by their adversaries. And many, who had declared themselves friendly to reform, alarmed, or pretending to be alarmed, at this hideous specter, drew back, and sheltered themselves within the sacred pale of that Church, which, notwithstanding her notorious dissensions, errors, and corruption, both in head and members, continued to arrogate to herself exclusively the properties of unity, universality, and perpetual infallibility.
The radical error of this sect, according to the more improved system held by them at the time of which I write, was a fond conceit of a certain ideal spirituality and perfection, by which they considered the Christian Church to be essentially distinguished from the Jewish, which was, in their opinion, a mere carnal, secular society. Entertaining this notion, they were naturally led to abridge the rule of faith and manners, by confining themselves almost entirely to the New Testament, and to adopt their other opinions concerning the unlawfulness of infant baptism, of civil magistracy, national churches, oaths, and defensive war. But besides these tenets, the Anabaptists were, at this Period, generally infected with the Pelagian heresy, and united with the Papists in loading the doctrines which the reformers held respecting predestination and grace with the most odious charges.
Our Reformer had occasion to meet with some of these sectaries both in England and on the Continent, and had ascertained their extravagant and dangerous principles. In the year 1553, one of them came to his lodging in London, and, after requiring secrecy, gave him a book, written by one of the party, which he pressed him to read. It contained the following proposition: "God made not the world, nor the wicked creatures in it, but these were made by the devil, who is therefore called the god of this world." He immediately warned the man against such gross doctrine, and began to explain to him the sense in which the devil is called "the god of this world" in Scripture. "Tush for your written word!" replied the enthusiast, "we have as good and as sure a word and verity that teacheth us this doctrine, as ye have for you and your opinion." Having apprised that persons who had imbibed these opinions were creeping into Scotland, Knox was afraid that they might odiously instill their poison into the minds of some of his brethren. He refuted their opinion respecting church communion by showing that they required a purity which had never been found in the Church, either before or since the completion of the canon of Scripture. In opposition to their Pelagian tenets, he gave the following statement of his sentiments: "If there be any thing which God did not predestinate or appoint, then lacked he wisdom and free regimen; or, if any thing was ever done, or yet after shall be done, in heaven or in earth, which he might not have impeded (if so had been his godly pleasure), then he is not omnipotent; which three properties, to wit, wisdom, free regimen, and power, denied to be in God, I pray you what rests m his Godhead? The wisdom of our God we acknowledge to be such, that it compelleth the very malice of Satan, and the horrible iniquity of such as be drowned in sin, to serve to his glory, and to the profit of his elect. His power we believe and confess to be infinite, and such as no creature in heaven or earth is able to resist. And his regimen we acknowledge to be so free that none of his creatures dare present them in judgment, to reason or demand the question, why hast thou done this or that? But the fountain of this their damnable error (which is, that in God they can acknowledge no justice except that which their foolish brain is able to comprehend), at more opportunity, God willing, we shall entreat."
He assigns his reasons for warning them so particularly against the seduction of these erroneous teachers. Under the cloak of mortification and the color of a godly life, they "supplanted the dignity of Christ," and "were become enemies to free justification by faith in his blood." The malice of Papists was now visible to all the world; the hypocrisy of mercenary teachers and ungodly professors would soon discover itself; and seldom had open tyranny been able to suppress the true religion when it had once been earnestly embraced by the body of any nation or province. "But deceivable and false doctrine is a poison and venom, which, once drunken and received, with great difficulty can afterwards be purged." Accordingly, he charged them to "try the spirits" which came to them, and to suffer no man to take the office of preacher upon him of his own accord, and without trial, or to assemble the people in secret meetings, else Satan would soon have his emissaries among them, who would "destroy the plantation of our heavenly Father." His admonitions, on this head, were not without effect, and the Protestants of Scotland, instead of being distracted with those opinions, remained united in their views, as to doctrine, worship, and discipline.
His letter to the Protestant lords breathes an ardent and elevated spirit. Its object was to purify their minds from selfish and worldly principles—to raise, sanctify, and christianize their views, by exhibiting and recommending to them the examples of those great and good men whose characters were delineated, and whose deeds were recorded, in the sacred annals. The glory of God, the advancement of the kingdom of Jesus Christ, the salvation of themselves and their brethren, the emancipation of their country from spiritual and political bondage—these, and not their own honor and aggrandizement, or the revenging of their petty private feuds, were the objects which they ought to keep steadily and solely in view.
In this letter, he also communicates his advice on the delicate question of resistance to supreme rulers. They had consulted him on this subject and had submitted it to the judgment of the most learned men on the Continent. Soon after they had agreed to the marriage of their young queen to the dauphin of France, the Scots began to be jealous of the designs of the Fr