Mr. Wishart continued with the gentlemen of Kyle after the arch-bishop's departure, and being desired to preach next Lord's day at the church of Mauchlin, he went thither with that design; but the sheriff of Air had, in the night-time, put a garrison of soldiers in the church to keep him out. Hugh Campbel of Kinzeancleugh with others of the parish were exceedingly offended at such impiety, and would have entered the church by force; but Mr. Wishart would not suffer it, saying, "Brethren, it is the word of peace which I preach unto you, the blood of no man shall be shed for it this day; Jesus Christ is as mighty in the fields as in the church, and he himself, while he lived in the flesh, preached oftener in the desart, and upon the sea-side, than in the temple of Jerusalem." Upon this the people were appeased, and went with him to the edge of a muir on the south-west side of Mauchlin, where having placed himself upon a ditch-dyke, he preached to a great multitude who resorted to him; he continued speaking for more than three hours, God working wondrously by him, insomuch that Laurence Rankin the laird of Sheld, a very profane person, was converted by his means; the tears ran from his eyes, to the astonishment of all present, and the whole of his after-life witnessed that his profession was without hypocrisy. While in this country, Mr. Wishart often preached with most remarkable success, at the church of Galston and other places. At this time and in this part of the country, it might be truly said, That the harvest was GREAT, but the labourers were FEW.

After he had been about a month thus employed in Kyle, he was informed, That the plague had broke out in Dundee the fourth day after he had left it, and that it still continued to rage in such a manner that great numbers were swept off every day; this affected him so much, that he resolved to return again unto them: Accordingly he took leave of his friends in the west, who were filled with sorrow at his departure. The next day after his arrival at Dundee, he caused intimation to be made that he would preach; and for that purpose chose his station upon the head of the east-gate, the infected persons standing without, and those that were whole within: his text was Psalm cvii. 20. He sent his word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction. By this discourse he so comforted the people, that they thought themselves happy in having such a preacher, and intreated him to remain with them while the plague continued; which he complied with, preaching often and taking care that the poor should not want necessaries more than the rich; in doing which he exposed himself to the infection, even where it was most malignant, without reserve.

During all this his sworn adversary the cardinal had his eye close upon him, and bribed a priest called Sir John Wighton, to assassinate him; he was to make the attempt as Mr. Wishart came down from the preaching place, with the expectation of escaping among the crowd after the deed was done. To effect this, he posted himself at the foot of the steps with his gown loose, and a dagger under it in his hand. Upon Mr. Wishart's approach, he looked sternly upon the priest, asking him, What he intended to do? and instantly clapped his hand upon the hand of the priest that held the dagger, and took it from him. Upon which he openly confessing his design, a tumult immediately ensued, and the sick without the gate rushed in, crying, To have the assassin delivered to them; then Mr. Wishart interposed and defended him from their violence, telling them, He had done him no harm, and that such as injured the one injured the other likewise; so the priest escaped without any harm.

The plague was now considerably abated, and he determined to pay a visit to the town of Montrose, intending to go from thence to Edinburgh, to meet the gentlemen of the west. While he was at Montrose, he administred the sacrament of our Lord's supper in both kinds of the elements, and preached with success. Here he received a letter directed to him from his intimate friend the laird of Kinnier, acquainting him, That he had taken a sudden sickness, and requesting him to come to him with all diligence. Upon this, he immediately set out on his journey, attended by some honest friends of Montrose, who out of affection would accompany him part of the way. They had not travelled above a quarter of a mile, when all of a sudden he stopped, saying to the company, "I am forbidden by God to go this journey. Will some of you be pleased to ride to yonder place (pointing with his finger to a little hill), and see what you find, for I apprehend there is a plot against my life:" whereupon he returned, to the town, and they who went forward to the place, found about sixty horsemen ready to intercept him: By this the whole plot came to light: they found that the letter had been forged; and, upon their telling Mr. Wishart what they had seen, he replied, "I know that I shall end my life by the hands of that wicked man, (meaning the cardinal) but it will not be after this manner."

The time which he had appointed for meeting the west-country gentlemen at Edinburgh, drawing near, he undertook that journey, much against the inclination and advice of the laird of Dun; the first night after leaving Montrose, he lodged at Innergowrie, about two miles from Dundee, with one James Watson a faithful friend, where, being laid in bed, he was observed to rise a little after midnight, and to go out into an adjacent garden, that he might give vent to his sighs and groans without being observed; but being followed by two men, William Spaldin and John Watson, at a distance, in order that they might observe his motions, they saw him prostrate himself upon the ground, weeping and making supplication for near an hour, and then return to his rest. As they lay in the same apartment with him, they took care to return before him, and upon his coming into the room they asked him, (as if ignorant of all that had past) where he had been? But he made no answer, and they ceased their interrogations. In the morning they asked him again, Why he rose in the night, and what was the cause of such sorrow? (for they told him all that they had seen him do) he answered with a dejected countenance, "I wish you had been in your beds, which had been more for your ease, for I was scarce well occupied." But they praying him to satisfy their minds further, and to communicate some comfort unto them, he said, "I will tell you, that I assuredly know my travail is nigh an end, therefore pray to God for me, that I may not shrink when the battle waxeth most hot."—Hearing these words, they burst out into tears, saying, That was but small comfort to them. To this he replied, "God will send you comfort after me; this realm shall be illuminated with the light of Christ's gospel, as clearly as any realm ever was since the days of the apostles; the house of God shall be built in it; yea, it shall not lack (whatsoever the enemies shall devise to the contrary) the very cope stone; neither shall this be long in doing, for there shall not many suffer after me. The glory of God shall appear, and truth shall once triumph in despite of the devil, but, alas, if the people become unthankful, the plagues and punishments which shall follow will be fearful and terrible." After this prediction, which was accomplished in such a remarkable a manner afterwards, he proceeded on his journey, and arrived at Leith about the 10th of December, where being disappointed of a meeting with the west-country gentlemen, he kept himself retired for some days, and then became very uneasy and discouraged, and being asked the reason, he replied, "I have laboured to bring people out of darkness, but now I lurk as a man ashamed to shew himself before men:" by this they understood that he desired to preach, and told him that they would gladly hear him; but the danger into which he would throw himself thereby, prevented them from advising him to it, he answered, "If you and others will hear me next Sabbath, I will preach in Leith, let God provide for me as best pleaseth him;" which he did upon the parable of the sower, Matth. xiii. After sermon, his friends advised him to leave Leith, because the regent and cardinal were soon to be in Edinburgh, and that his situation would be dangerous on that account; he complied with this advice, and resided with the lairds of Brunston, Longniddry and Ormiston, by turns; the following sabbath he preached at Inneresk both fore and after noon, to a crowded audience, among whom was Sir George Douglas, who after the sermon publicly said, "I know that the governor and cardinal shall hear that I have been at this preaching, (for they were now come to Edinburgh) say unto them, that I will avow it, and will not only maintain the doctrine which I have heard, but also the person of the teacher to the uttermost of my power;" which open and candid declaration was very grateful to the whole congregation. During the time of this sermon, Mr. Wishart perceived two grey friars standing in the entry of the church, and whispering to every person that entered the door; he called out to the people to make room for them, because, said he, "perhaps they come to learn;" and then addressed them, "requesting them to come forward, and hear the word of truth;" but they still continued to trouble the people, upon which he reproved them in the following manner: "O ye servants of Satan, and deceivers of souls of men, will ye neither hear God's truth, nor suffer others to hear it? depart and take this for your portion, God shall shortly confound and disclose your hypocrisy within this realm; ye shall be abominable unto men, and your places and habitations shall be desolate."

The two sabbaths following he preached at Tranent, and in all his sermons after leaving Montrose, he more or less hinted that his ministry was near an end. The next place he preached at was Haddington, where his congregation was at first very throng, but the following day very few attended him, which was thought to be owing to the influence of the earl of Bothwel, who, at the instigation of the cardinal, had inhibited the people from attending him, for his authority was very considerable in that part of the country. At this time he received a letter from the gentlemen of the west, declaring, That they could not keep the diet appointed at Edinburgh; this, with the reflection that so few attended his ministrations at Haddington, grieved him exceedingly. He called upon Mr. Knox, who then attended him, and told him, That he was weary of the world, since he perceived that men were become weary of God.—Notwithstanding the anxiety and discouragement which he laboured under, he went immediately to the pulpit, and sharply rebuking the people of that town for their neglect of the gospel, he told them, "That sore and fearful should be the plagues that should ensue; that fire and sword should waste them; that strangers should possess their houses, and chase them from their habitations." This prediction was soon after verified, when the English took and possessed that town, while the French and Scots besieged it in the year 1548. This was the last sermon which he preached, in which, as had for some time been usual with him, he spoke of his death as near at hand; and after it was over, he bade his acquaintance farewel, as if it had been for ever. He went to Ormiston, accompanied by the lairds of Brunston and Ormiston, and Sir John Sandilands, the younger of Calder. Mr. Knox was also desirous to have gone with him, but Mr. Wishart desired him to return, saying, "One is enough for a sacrifice at this time."

Being come to Ormiston, he entered into some spiritual conversation in the family, particularly concerning the happy state of God's children, appointed the 51st psalm, according to an old version then in use, to be sung, and then recommended the company to God; he went to bed some time sooner than ordinary; about midnight the earl of Bothwel beset the house, so as none could escape, and then called upon the laird, declaring the design to him, and intreating him not to hold out, for it would be to no purpose, because the cardinal and governor were coming with all their train; but if he would deliver Mr. Wishart up, Bothwel promised upon his honour that no evil should befal him. Being inveigled with this, and consulting with Mr. Wishart who requested that the gates should be opened, saying, "God's will be done," the laird complied. The earl of Bothwel entered, with some gentlemen, who solemnly protested, That Mr. Wishart should receive no harm, but that he, viz. Bothwel, would either carry him to his own house, or return him again to Ormiston in safety: Upon this promise hands were stricken, and Mr. Wishart went along with him to Elphiston where the cardinal was, after which he was first carried to Edinburgh, then to the earl of Bothwel's house (perhaps upon pretence of fulfilling the engagement which Bothwel had come under to him) after which he was re-conducted to Edinburgh, where the cardinal had now assembled a convocation of prelates for reforming some abuses, but without effect. Buchanan says, that he was apprehended by a party of horse detached by the cardinal for that purpose; that at first the laird of Ormiston refused to deliver him up, upon which the cardinal and regent both posted thither, but could not prevail until the earl of Bothwel was sent for, who succeeded by flattery and fair promises, not one of which were fulfilled.

Mr. Wishart remained at Edinburgh only a few days, until the blood-thirsty cardinal prevailed with the governor to deliver up this faithful servant of Jesus Christ unto his tyranny, and was accordingly sent to St. Andrews; and being advised to it by the arch-bishop of Glasgow, he would have got a civil judge appointed to try him, if David Hamilton of Preston, a kinsman to the regent, had not remonstrated against it, and represented the danger of attacking the servants of God, who had no other crime laid to their charge, but that of preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. This speech, which Buchanan gives at large, affected the governor in such a manner, that he absolutely refused the cardinal's request, upon which he replied in anger, "That he had only sent to him out of mere civility, without any need for it, for that he with his clergy had power sufficient to bring Mr. Wishart to condign punishment."—Thus was this servant of God left in the hands of that proud and merciless tyrant, the religious part of the nation loudly complaining of the governor's weakness.

Mr. Wishart being now in St. Andrews, the cardinal without delay caused summon the bishops and superior clergy to meet at that place on the 27th of February 1546, to deliberate upon a question about which he was already resolved. The next day after this convocation, Mr. Wishart received a summons in prison, by the dean of the town, to answer to-morrow, for his heretical doctrine, before the judges. The next day, the cardinal went to the place of judgement, in the abbey church, with a train of armed men marching in warlike order; immediately Mr. Wishart was sent for from the sea-tower, which was his prison, and being about to enter the door of the church, a poor man asked alms of him, to whom he threw his purse. When he came before the cardinal, John Wirnam the sub-prior went up into the pulpit by appointment, and made a discourse upon the nature of heresy from Matth. xiii. which he did with great caution, and yet in such a way as applied more justly to the accusers, for he was a secret favourer of the truth. After him came up one John Lander, a most virulent enemy of religion, who acted the part of Mr. Wishart's accuser, he pulled out a long roll of maledictory charges against Mr. Wishart, and dealt out the Romish thunder so liberally as terrified the ignorant by-standers, but did not in the least discompose this meek servant of Christ; he was accused of disobedience to the governor's authority, for teaching that man had no free-will, and for contemning fasting, (all which he absolutely refused) and for denying that there are seven sacraments; that auricular confession, extreme unction, and the sacrament of the altar, so called, are sacraments; that we should pray to saints; and for saying, That it was necessary for every man to know and understand his baptism; that the pope hath no more power than another man; that it is as lawful to eat flesh upon Friday as upon Sunday; that there is no purgatory, and that it is vain to build costly churches to the honour of God, and for condemning conjuration, the vows of single life, the cursings of the holy church, &c. While Lauder was reading these accusations, he had put himself into a most violent sweat, frothing at the mouth and calling Mr. Wishart a runagate traitor, and demanded an answer, which he made in a short and modest oration: At which they cried out with one content against him in a most tumultuous manner; by which he saw, they were resolved to proceed against him to the utmost extremity, he therefore appealed to a more equitable and impartial judge. Upon which Lauder (repeating the several titles of the cardinal) asked him, "If my lord cardinal was not an equitable judge?" Mr. Wishart replied, "I do not refuse him, but I desire the word of God to be my judge, the temporal estates, with some of your lordships, because I am my lord governor's prisoner." After some scornful language thrown out both against him and the governor, they proceeded to read the articles against him a second time, and hear his answers, which he made with great solidity of judgment: After which they condemned him to be burnt as an heretic, paying no regard to his defences, nor to the emotions of their own consciences, but thought that by killing him they should do God good service. Upon this resolution, (for their final sentence was not yet pronounced) Mr. Wishart kneeled down and prayed in the following manner.

"O immortal God, how long wilt thou suffer the rage of the ungodly, how long shall they exercise their fury upon thy servants, who further thy word in this world, seeing they desire to choke and destroy thy true doctrine and verity, by which thou hast shewed thyself unto the world, which was drowned in blindness and ignorance of thy name? O Lord, we know surely that thy true servants must suffer for thy name's sake, both persecution, affliction and troubles in this present life, which is but a shadow, as thy prophets and apostles have shewed us, but yet we desire thee, merciful Father, that thou wouldst preserve, defend and help thy congregation, which thou hast chosen from before the foundation of the world, and give them thy grace to hear thy word, and to be thy true servants in this present life."

After this, the common people were removed until their definitive sentence should be pronounced, which being so similar to Mr. Hamilton's, need not be here inserted. This being done, he was re-committed to the castle for that night; in his way thither, two friars came to him requesting him to make his confession to them, which he refused, but desired them to bring Mr. Wirnam who had preached that day, to him; who being come, after some discourse with Mr. Wishart, he asked him, If he would receive the sacrament of the Lord's supper? Mr. Wishart answered, "Most willingly, if I may have it administered according to Christ's institution, under both kinds, of bread and wine." Hereupon the sub-prior went to the bishops, and asked, If they would permit the sacrament to be given to the prisoner? But the cardinal, in all their names, answered, That it was not reasonable to give any spiritual benefit to an obstinate heretic condemned by the church.

All this night Mr. Wishart spent in prayer, and next morning the captain of the castle gave him notice that they had denied him the sacrament, and at the same time invited him to breakfast with him, which Mr. Wishart accepted, saying, "I will do that very willingly, and so much the rather, because I perceive you to be a good Christian, and a man fearing God." All things being ready, and the family assembled to breakfast, Mr. Wishart turning himself to the captain, said, "I beseech you, in the name of God, and for the love ye bear to our Saviour Jesus Christ, to be silent a little while, till I have made a short exhortation, and blessed this bread which we are to eat, so that I may bid you farewel." The table being covered and bread let upon it, he spake about the space of half an hour, of the institution of the supper, and of our Saviour's death and passion, exhorting those who were present to mutual love and holiness of life. Then, giving thanks, he brake the bread, distributing a part to those about him, who were disposed to communicate, intreating them to remember that Christ died for them, and to feed on it spiritually; then taking the cup, he bade them remember that Christ's blood was shed for them; And having tasted it himself, he delivered it unto them, and then concluding with thanksgiving and prayer, he told them, "That he would neither eat nor drink more in this life," and retired to his chamber.

Soon after, by the appointment of the cardinal, two executioners came to him, and arraying him in a black linen coat, they fastened some bags of gun-powder about him, put a rope about his neck, a chain about his waist, and bound his hands behind his back, and in this dress they led him one to the stake, near the cardinal's palace; opposite to the stake they had placed the great guns of the castle, lest any should attempt to rescue him. The fore tower, which was immediately opposite to the fire, was hung with tapestry, and rich cushions were laid in the windows, for the ease of the cardinal and prelates, while they beheld the sad spectacle. As he was going to the stake, it is said, that two beggars asked alms of him, and that he replied, "I want my hands wherewith I used to give you alms, but the merciful Lord vouchsafe to give you all necessaries, both for soul and body." After this the friars came about him, urging him to pray to our Lady, &c. to whom he answered, "Cease, tempt me not, I intreat you."

Having mounted a scaffold prepared on purpose, he turned towards the people and declared that "he felt much joy within himself in offering up his life for the name of Christ, and told them that they ought not to be offended with the good word of God, because of the afflictions I have endured, or the torments which ye now see prepared for me; but I intreat you, that you love the word of God for your salvation, and suffer patiently and with a comfortable heart for the word's sake, which is your everlasting comfort; but for the true gospel which was given me by the grace of God, I suffer this day with a glad heart. Behold, and consider my visage, ye shall not see me change my colour; I fear not this fire, and I pray that you may not fear them that slay the body, but have no power to slay the soul. Some have said that I taught that the soul shall sleep till the last day, but I know surely, and my faith is such, that my soul shall sup with my Saviour this night." Then he prayed for his accusers, that they might be forgiven, if, through ignorance or evil design, they had forged lies upon him. After this the executioner asked his forgiveness, to whom he replied, "Come hither to me;" and when he came, he kissed his cheek, and said, "Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee, do thine office." Being raised up from his knees, he was bound to the stake, crying with a loud voice O Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me; Father of heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands: whereupon the executioner kindled the fire, and the powder that was fastened to his body blew up. The captain of the castle perceiving that he was still alive, drew near, and bid him be of good courage, whereupon Mr. Wishart said, "This flame hath scorched my body, yet it hath not daunted my spirit; but he who, from yonder place beholdeth us with such pride, shall within a few days lie in the same as ignominiously as he is now seen proudly to rest himself." But as he was thus speaking, the executioner drew the cord that was about his neck so strait that he spoke no more; and thus, like another Elijah, he took his flight by a fiery chariot into heaven, and obtained the martyr's crown on the 1st of March, 1546.

Thus lived, and thus died this faithful witness of Jesus Christ; he was early marked out as a sacrifice to papal tyranny, being delated to the bishop of Brichen for an heretic, because he taught the Greek new Testament to his scholars, while he kept school at Montrose; he was summoned by him, to appear before him, but escaped into England, and at the university of Cambridge completed his education, and was himself an instructor of others; During the whole time he was in his own country, he was hunted as a partridge in the mountains, until the cardinal got him brought to the stake. Through the whole of his sufferings, his meekness and patience were very remarkable, as was that uncommon measure of the spirit of prophecy which he possessed; witness the circumstances relative to Dundee, Haddington, the reformation from popery, and the cardinal's death, all of which were foretold by him, and soon after accomplished.

The popish clergy rejoiced at his death, and extolled the cardinal's courage, for proceeding in it against the governor's order; but the people very justly looked upon him as both a prophet and a martyr. It was also did, that abstracting from the grounds of his suffering, his death was no less than murder, in regard no writ was obtained for it, and the clergy could not burn any without a warrant from the secular power. This stirred up Norman, and John Lefties of the family of Rothes, William Kircaldie of Grange, James Melvil of the family of Carnbee, Peter Carmichael and others, to avenge Mr. Wishart's death. Accordingly upon the 28th of May, 1546, (not three months after Mr. Wishart suffered) they surprized the castle early in the morning, and either secured or turned out the persons who were lodged in it; came to the cardinal's door, who was by this time alarmed, and had secured it, but upon their threatening to force open the door, he opened it, (relying partly upon the sanctity of his office, and partly on his acquaintance with some of them) crying, "I am a priest, I am a priest;" but this had no effect upon them, for James Melvil having exhorted him in a solemn manner to repentance, and having apprized him, that he was now to avenge Mr. Wishart's death, he stabbed him twice or thrice; which ended his wretched days. These persons, with some others who came in to them, held the castle out for near two years, being assisted by England; they had the governor's eldest son with them, for he had been put under the cardinal's care, and was in the castle at the time they surprized it. The castle was at last besieged by the French, and surrendered upon having the lives of all that were in it secured.

Betwixt this and the time of Mr. Walter Mill's sufferings, whose life follows, one Adam Wallace, alias Fean, a simple but very zealous man, was taken at Winton, and was brought to his trial in the Blackfriars church in Edinburgh, where he was charged with articles of heresy, similar to those with which others before him had been charged. He was condemned and burnt in the castle-hill, suffering with great patience and resolution.

There were others condemned before that time, among whom were Robert Forrester gentleman, Sir Duncan Simson priest, Friar Killore, Friar Beveridge, and dean Thomas Forrest a canon, regular and vicar of Dollar, who were all burnt at one stake upon the castle-hill of Edinburgh, February 1538.



The Life of Mr. WALTER MILL.

He was born about the year 1476, was educated in the Popish religion, and made priest of Lunan in the shire of Angus, where he remained until he was accused by the bishop of St. Andrews of having left off saying mass, which he had done long before this time, being condemned by the cardinal on that account, in the year 1538; but he escaped the flames for this time, by flying into Germany, where he married a wife, and was more perfectly instructed in the true religion; after which he returned home, but kept himself as retired as possible; during which time he went about reproving vice and instructing people in the grounds of religion, which coming at length to the ears of the ecclesiastics, in 1558, he was, by order of the bishops, apprehended in Dysart in the shire of Fife, by two priests, and imprisoned in the castle of St. Andrews, where the Papists, both by threatening and flattery, laboured with him to recant, offering him a place in the abbey of Dunfermline all the days of his life, if he would deny what he had already taught. But continuing constant in his opinions, he was brought to a trial before the bishops of St. Andrews, Murray, Brechin, Caithness, &c. who were assembled in the cathedral of St. Andrews. When he came to make his defence, he was so old, feeble and lame, that it was feared none would hear him; but as soon as he began to speak, he surprized them all, his voice made the church to ring, and his quickness and courage amazed his very enemies.

At first he kneeled and prayed for some time, after which one Sir Andrew Oliphant a priest, called to him to arise, and answer to the articles of charge, saying, "You keep my lord of St. Andrews too long here;" nevertheless he continued some time in prayer, and when he arose, said, "I ought to obey God more than man. I serve a mightier Lord than your lord is, and whereas you call me Sir Walter, they call me Walter; I have been too long one of the pope's knights: Now say what you have to say."

* * * * *

Oliphant began his Interrogations as follows:

Olip. Thou sayest there are not seven sacraments?

Mill. Give me the Lord's Supper and Baptism, and take you all the rest.

Oliph. What think you of a priest's marriage?

Mill. I think it a blessed bond ordained by God, and approved of by Christ, and free to all sorts of men; but ye abhor it, and in the meanwhile take other men's wives and daughters: Ye vow chastity, and keep it not.

Oliph. How sayest thou that the mass is idolatry?

Mill. A lord or king calleth many to dinner, they come and sit down, but the lord himself turneth his back, and eateth up all; and so do you.

Olip. Thou deniest the sacrament of the altar to be the real body of Christ in flesh and blood?

Mill. The scriptures are to be understood spiritually and not carnally, and so your mass is wrong, for Christ was once offered on the cross for sin, and will never be offered again, for then he put an end to all sacrifice.

Oliph. Thou deniest the office of a bishop?

Mill. I affirm that those you call bishops do no bishop's work, but live after sensual pleasure, taking no care of Christ's flock, nor regarding his word.

Oliph. Thou speakest against pilgrimage, and sayest, It is a pilgrimage to whoredom?

Mill. I say pilgrimage is not commanded in scripture, and that there is no greater whoredom in any place, except in brothel-houses.

Oliph. You preach privately in houses, and sometimes in the field?

Mill. Yea, and on the sea also when sailing in a ship.

Then said Oliphant, "If you will not recant, I will pronounce sentence against you."

To this he replied, "I know I must die once, and therefore as Christ said to Judas, What thou dost, do quickly: you shall know that I will not recant the truth, for I am corn and not chaff: I will neither be blown away by the wind, nor burst with the flail, but will abide both."

Then Oliphant, as the mouth of the court, was ordered to pronounce sentence against him, ordaining him to be delivered to the temporal judge, and burnt as an heretic. But they could not procure one as a temporal judge to condemn him. One Learmond, then provost of the town, and bailie of the bishop's regality, refused it, and went out of town; the people of the place were so moved at his constancy, and offended at the wrong done to him, that they refused to supply ropes to bind him, and other materials for his execution, whereby his death was retarded for one day. At last one Somerville, a domestic of the bishop, undertook to act the part of temporal judge, and the ropes of the bishop's pavilion were taken to serve the purpose.

All things being thus prepared, he was led forth by Somerville with a guard of armed men to his execution; being come to the place, some cried out to him to recant, to whom he answered, "I marvel at your rage, ye hypocrites, who do so cruelly pursue the servants of God; as for me, I am now eighty-two years old, and cannot live long by course of nature; but an hundred shall rise out of my ashes, who shall scatter you, ye hypocrites and persecutors of God's people; and such of you as now think yourselves the best, shall not die such an honest death as I now do; I trust in God, I shall be the last who shall suffer death, in this fashion, for this cause in this land." Thus his constancy increased as his end drew near. Being ordered by Oliphant to go up to the stake, he refused, and said, "No, I will not go, except thou put me up with thy hand, for by the law of God I am forbidden to put hands to myself, but if thou wilt put to thy hand, and take part of my death, thou shalt see me go up gladly." Then Oliphant putting him foreward, he went up with a cheerful countenance, saying, Introibo ad altare Dei, and desired that he might be permitted to speak to the people; he was answered by Oliphant, "That he had spoken too much already, and the bishops were exceedingly displeased with what he had said." But some youths took his part, and bid him say on what he pleased; he first bowed his knees and prayed, then arose and standing upon the coals addressed the people to this effect, "Dear friends, the cause why I suffer this day, is not for any crime laid to my charge, though I acknowledge myself a miserable sinner before God, but only for the defence of the truths of Jesus Christ set forth in the old and new Testament; I praise God that he hath called me among the rest of his servants, to seal up his truth with my life; as I have received it of him, so I again willingly offer it up for his glory, therefore, as ye would escape eternal death, be no longer seduced with the lies of bishops, abbots, friars, monks, and the rest of that sect of Antichrist, but depend only upon Jesus Christ and his mercy, that so ye may be delivered from condemnation."—During this speech, loud murmurs and lamentations were heard among the multitude, some admiring the patience, boldness and constancy of this martyr, others complaining of the hard measures and cruelty of his persecutors. After having spoken as above, he prayed a little while, and then was drawn up and bound to the stake, and the fire being kindled, he cried, "Lord, have mercy on me; Pray, pray, good people, while there is time." And so cheerfully yielded up his soul into the hands of his God on the twenty-eighth of April, anno 1558, being then about the eighty-second year of his age.

The fortitude and constancy of this martyr affected the people so much, that they heaped up a great pile of stones on the place where he had been burned, that the memory of his death might be preserved, but the priests gave orders to have it taken down and carried away, denouncing a curse on any who should lay stones there again; but that anathema was so little regarded, that what was thrown down in the day-time was raised again in the night, until at last the papists carried away the stones to build houses in or about the town, which they did in the night, with all possible secresy.

The death of this martyr brought about the downfal of popery in Scotland, for the people in general were so much inflamed, that resolving openly to profess the truth, they bound themselves by promises, and subscriptions of oaths, That before they would be thus abused any longer they would take arms, and resist the papal tyranny, which they at last did.



The Life of JAMES STUART, Earl of Moray.

He was a natural son of K. James V. and brother by the father's side to Mary queen of Scots; in his infancy he was put under the celebrated George Buchanan, who instilled such principles into his mind in early life, as by the divine blessing made him an honour to the Scottish nation.

The reader cannot expect a very minute detail of all the heroic and patriotic deeds of this worthy nobleman, considering the station which he filled, and his activity in the discharge of the duties belonging to it.

He was the principal agent in promoting the work of reformation from popery. On the first dawning of it in the year 1555, he attended the preaching of Mr. John Knox at Calder, where he often wished that his doctrine had been more public, which was an open profession of his love and zeal for the true religion.

He went over to France with some other Scottish noblemen at the time of his sister's marriage with the dauphine, where his companions were supposed to have been poisoned, for they died in France: He escaped by the interposition of a kind providence, but retained a weak and disordered stomach all his life; this did not however unfit him for these services which he did to religion and his country after this.

In the year 1556, he and Argyle wrote to Mr. Knox at Geneva, to return to Scotland, in order to further the reformation. Upon which, after having been detained some time at Diep, Mr Knox returned in the year 1559, and went to St. Johnstoun, where the reforming congregation resorted to him; which coming to the ears of the queen-regent, she sent the earl of Argyle and Lord James (for that was the earl of Moray's title at this time) to know the intent of so great an assembly. Mr. Knox returned this answer, That "her enterprize would not prosper in the end, seeing that she intended to fight against God, &c." Upon receiving this reply, she summoned them to depart from the town of St. Johnstoun; but afterwards hearing of the daily increase of their numbers, she gave them leave to depart peaceably, with many fair promises, that they should meet with no further danger. On which they obeyed and left the town, but they had no sooner done so, than she with her French guards entered it in a most outrageous manner, telling the inhabitants, That no faith should be kept with heretics.—This flagrant breach of promise provoked Lord James to that degree, that he left the queen, and joined the lords of the congregation (for so they were afterwards called). As soon as the queen got intelligence of this, she sent a threatening letter to him and Argyle (for they stuck together on almost all occasions) commanding them to return, but to no purpose; for they went to Fife, and there began to throw down and remove the monuments of idolatry: Here they continued for some time; but being informed that the queen intended to go to Stirling, they went off from Perth late in the night, and entered Stirling with their associates where they immediately demolished the monasteries, and purged the churches of idolatry. Such was the zeal of these worthy noblemen for the interest of the reformed religion in Scotland.

From Stirling they marched for Edinburgh, purging all the superstitious relicts of idolatry out of Linlithgow in their way.—These summary proceedings alarmed the queen regent, insomuch that her zeal for the Romish idolatry, gave way to her fears about her civil authority. To make the conduct of these reformers the more odious to the unthinking part of the nation, she gave out that they were in open rebellion against her, and that they made a pretence of religion, but that the real design was to set lord James on the throne (there being now no male-heir to the crown), These insinuations she found means to transmit to lord James himself, in a letter said to be forged in the names of Francis and Mary the king and queen of France, wherein he was further upbraided with ingratitude on account of the favours they pretended that they had shown him, and threatened to lay down his arms and return to his allegiance. To this letter, (notwithstanding there were strong reasons to suspect it was forged) he nevertheless returned a resolute answer, declaring that he was not conscious to himself, either in word or deed, of any offence either against the regent or laws; but in regard the nobility had undertaken the reformation of religion, which was delayed, and seeing they aimed at nothing but the glory of God, he was willing to bear the reproach which the enemies of religion would load him with, neither was it just for him to desert that cause which had Christ himself for its head and defender, whom, unless they would voluntarily deny, they could not give up that enterprise in which they were imbarked.

While these things were transacting, the lords of the congregation being then in and about Edinburgh, there were to the number of 3000 French landed at Leith at different times, to support the queen regent, between whom and the lords of the congregation there were several skirmishes, with little success on either side; yet the lords retired to Stirling, leaving the French for a time masters of the field, but not without apprehensions of danger from the arrival of an English fleet, which was then expected. In the mean time, they went over to Fife, spreading devastation every where around them without resistance: Whereupon the queen regent thus expressed herself, "Where is John Knox's God now, my God is stronger, even now in Fife." This impious boast lasted not long, for Argyle and lord James went to the town of Dysart immediately to stop their career along the coast. The French were 4000 strong, besides the Scots who adhered to them; the army of the congregation were not above 600 men, yet they behaved with such courage and resolution, as for twenty days successively they faced this army, and for each man they lost in every skirmish, the French lost four. As an evidence of the uncommon attention which these two noblemen bestowed on this business, they never put off their cloaths during the whole time, and slept but little.

In the month of June the queen regent died, and a little after her Francis king of France died likewise, by which Scotland was delivered from this foreign army.—About this time lord James went over to France, to visit his sister Mary; after settling matters in Scotland as well as he could, he was attended by a splendid retinue, but appears to have met with a cold reception: After several conversations with Queen Mary, she told him, That she intended to return home. During his stay at Paris, he met with many insults on account of his known attachment to the reformed religion: A box containing some valuable things was stole from him; several persons were likewise hired to assassinate him in the street: he was apprized of his danger by an old friend of his own, but not before he was almost involved in it, being instantly surrounded by a rabble, calling out Hugenot, hugenot, and throwing stones; he made his way through them on horseback. Soon after this he left Paris, and returned home in May 1561, with a commission from the queen, appointing him regent until her return, which was in August following, when, as Knox expresses it, "Dolour and darkness came along with her," for tho' justice and equity were yet administered, and crimes were punished, because the administration of civil affairs was yet in the hands of lord James, who for his management of public concerns was beloved by all, yet upon the queen's arrival, French levity and dissipation soon corrupted the court to a very high degree.

About this time a banditti called the moss-troopers broke in upon the borders of Scotland, committing very alarming depredations, by robbing and murdering all that came in their way. The queen sent lord James with a small force to oppose them, not with the intention that he might have the opportunity of acquiring military reputation, but to expose him to danger, that, if possible, she might get rid of him, for his popularity made her very uneasy, and his fidelity and boldness in reproving her faults, and withstanding her tyrannical measures, made him still more the object of her hatred and disgust. But, contrary to the expectations of many, God so prospered him in this expedition, that in a short time he brought twenty-eight ring-leaders of this band to public execution, and obliged the rest to give hostages for their better behaviour in time-coming. Thus he returned crowned with laurels, and was immediately created earl of Marr, and in the February following he was made earl of Moray, with the universal approbation of all good men. Some thought this act of the queen was intended by her to conciliate his affections, and make him of her party. About this time he married a daughter of the earl of Marshal, according to Knox, (Buchanan says, the earl of March); the marriage was made publicly in the church of Edinburgh; after the ceremony was over, the preacher (probably Mr. Knox) said to him, "Sir, the church of God hath received comfort by you, and by your labours unto this day; if you prove more saint therein afterward, it will be said that your wife hath changed your nature, &c."

It may be observed, that hitherto the nobility appeared very much united in their measures for promoting the interest of religion; this was soon at an end, for the noblemen at court broke out into factions: Among whom the earl of Bothwel, envying the prosperity of Moray, stirred up some feuds between him and the Hamiltons, which increased to that height, that they laid a plot for his life, which Bothwel took in hand to execute, while he was with the queen his sister at Falkland; but the earl of Arran detesting such an action, sent a letter privately to the earl of Moray discovering the whole conspiracy, by which he escaped that danger: Bothwel fled from justice into France, but his emissaries were not less active in his absence than they had been while he headed them in person, for another design was formed against his life, by one Gordon, while he was with the queen at Dumbarton. But this proved ineffectual also.

Soon after, the queen received letters from the pope and her uncles the Guises of France, requesting her to put the earl of Moray out of the way, because, they found by experience, that their interest in Scotland could not prosper while he was alive; upon this the faction against him became more insolent and appeared in arms: they were at first suppressed, but soon assembled again, to the number of eight hundred men: This body he was obliged to fight, with little more strength, in which he could confide, than an hundred horse; notwithstanding this disparity, by the divine blessing, he obtained a complete victory, killing of them a hundred and twenty, and taking a hundred prisoners, among whom were Huntly himself and his two sons; it is said he did not lose a single man. He returned to Aberdeen with the prisoners, late in the night, where he had appointed a minister of the gospel to meet him, with whom he returned thanks to God for such a deliverance, exceeding the expectations of all men.

The earl of Bothwel was soon after this recalled by the queen from France; upon his arrival, Moray accused him for his former treasonable practices, and commenced a process at law against him. Bothwel knew he could not stand an open scrutiny, but relied upon the queen's favour, which he knew he possessed in a very high degree, and which increased so much the more as her enmity to Moray on account of his popularity was augmented. This led her to join more warmly in the conspiracy with Bothwel against his life; a new plot was the result of their joint deliberations, which was to be executed in the following manner; Moray was to be sent for, with only a few attendants, to speak with the queen at Perth, where Lord Darnly (then in suit to her for marriage) was; they knew that Moray would speak his mind freely, upon which they were to quarrel with him, in the heat of which David Rizzio was to strike the first blow, and all the rest were to follow: But of this design also he got previous intelligence by a friend at the court, nevertheless he resolved to go, until advised by one Patrick Ruthven; he turned aside to his mother's house, and there staid till this storm was over also.

The earl of Moray foreseeing what would be the consequence of the queen's marriage with Lord Darnly[28], set himself to oppose it, but finding little attention paid to any thing he said on that subject in the convention of estates, he chose rather to absent himself for some time, and accordingly retired to the border, where he staid until the queen's marriage with Darnly was over.

The remarkable tragical events which succeeded, disgusted Moray more and more at the court; with these the public are well acquainted: The murder of Darnly, and Mary's after-marriage with the assassin of her husband, has occasioned too much speculation of late years, not to be known to every one in the least acquainted with the Scottish history. Moray now found it impossible to live at a court where his implacable enemy was so highly honoured; Bothwel insulted him openly; whereupon he asked leave of the queen to travel abroad, and she, being willing to get rid of him at all events, granted his desire, upon his promise not to make any stay in England. He went over to France, where he remained until he heard that the queen was in custody in Lochlevin, and that Bothwel had fled to Denmark; and then returned home. Upon his arrival he was made regent, by the joint consent of the queen and nobles, anno 1567, during the young king's minority.

He entered on the exercise of his office as regent, in the spring following, and resolved with himself to make a tour through the whole kingdom to settle the courts of justice, to repair what was wrong, &c. But his adversaries the Hamiltons, perceiving, that by the prudence and diligence of this worthy nobleman, the interest of religion would be revived, than which nothing could be more disagreeable to them, who were dissipated and licentious in an extreme degree, they could not endure to be regulated by law, and never ceased crying out against his administration. They fixed up libels in different places, full of dark insinuations, by which it was understood that his destruction was meditating[29]. Some astrologers told him that he would not live beyond such a day; by which it appeared they were not ignorant of the designs formed against him. All this had no effect upon his resolution; his common reply was, That "he knew well enough he must die one time or other, and that he could not part with his life more nobly, than by procuring the public tranquillity of his native country." He caused summon a convention of estates to meet at Glasgow for the redress of some grievances, which that part of the country particularly laboured under.

But while he was thus engaged, he received intelligence that the queen had escaped from Lochlevin castle, and was come to Hamiltoun, where those of her faction were assembling with the utmost haste, whereupon a hot dispute arose in council, whether the regent, and his attendants should repair to the young king at Stirling, or stay and observe the motions of the queen and her party; but in the very time of these deliberations, a hundred chosen men arrived in town from Lothian, and many more from the adjacent country were approaching: This made them resolve to stay where they were, and refresh themselves for one day, after which they determined to march out and face the enemy. But the queen's army, being 6500 strong, resolved to make their way by Glasgow to lodge the queen in Dumbarton castle, and afterwards either to fight the regent, or protract the war at pleasure.

The regent being let into this design of the enemy, drew his army out the town, to observe which way they intended to pass; he had not above 4000 men; they discovered the queen's army passing along the south-side of the river Clyde. Moray commanded the foot to pass the bridge, and the horse to ford the river, and marched out to a small village, called Langside, upon the river Cart. They took possession of a rising ground before the enemy could well discover their intention, and drew up in the order of battle. The earls of Morton, Semple, Hume and Patrick Lindsay on the right, and the earls of Marr, Glencairn, Monteith with the citizens of Glasgow, were on the left, and the musqueteers were placed in the valley below. The queen's army approaching, a very brisk but short engagement ensued; the earl of Argyle, who was commander in chief of the queen's troops, falling from his horse, they gave way, so that the regent obtained a complete victory; but, by his clement conduct, there was very little blood spilt in the pursuit. The queen, who all the while remained with some horse at about the distance of a mile from the place of action, seeing the rout, escaped and fled for England, and the regent returned to Glasgow, where they returned thanks to God for their deliverance from popery and papists, who threatened to overturn the work of God among them. This battle was fought upon the 13th of May, 1568.

After this the regent summoned a parliament to meet at Edinburgh; which the queen's party laboured to hinder, with all their power. In the mean time, letters were received from the queen of England, requiring them to put off the meeting of parliament until she was made acquainted with the whole matter, for she said, She could not bear with the affront which her kinswoman said she had received from her subjects.—The parliament however assembled, and after much reasoning it was resolved to send commissioners to England to vindicate their conduct; but none consenting to undertake this business, the regent resolved upon going himself, and accordingly chose three gentlemen, two ministers, two lawyers, and Mr. George Buchanan to accompany him; and with a guard of 100 horse they set out, and arrived at York, the appointed place of conference, on the 4th of October. After several meetings with the English commissioners to little purpose, the queen called the regent up to London, that she might be better satisfied by personal conversation with him, about the state of these affairs. But the same difficulties stood in his way here as at York; he refused to enter upon the accusation of his sister the queen of Scots, unless Elizabeth would engage to protect the king's party, provided the queen was found guilty.

But, while matters were thus remaining in suspence at London, Mary had stirred up a new commotion in Scotland by means of one James Balfour, so that the regent found himself exceedingly embarrassed, and therefore resolved to bring the matter to a conclusion as soon as possible. After several interviews with the queen and council, in which the regent and his party supported the ancient rights of their country, and wiped off the aspersions many had thrown on themselves, which Buchanan narrates at large, book XIX, A decision was given in their favours, and the regent returned home loaded with honours by Elizabeth, and attended by the most illustrious of the English court, escorted by a strong guard to Berwick, and arrived at Edinburgh on the 2d of February, where he was received with acclamations of joy, particularly by the friends of the true religion.

During his administration, many salutary laws in favour of civil and religious liberty, were made, which rendered him more and more the object of popish malice. At last they resolved at all events to take his life; the many unsuccessful attempts formerly made, only served to render them more bold and daring. Though the queen was now at a distance, yet the found means to encourage her party, and perhaps the hope of delivering her at length, gave strength to their resolution. One James Hamilton of Bothwel-haugh, nephew to the arch-bishop of St. Andrews, incited by his uncle and others, undertakes to make away with the regent, when a convenient opportunity offered itself: He first lay in wait for him at Glasgow, and then at Stirling, but both failed him; after which, he thought Linlithgow the most proper place for perpetrating that execrable deed; his uncle had a house near the regent's, in which he concealed himself, that he might be in readiness for the assassination. Of this design the regent got intelligence likewise, but paid not that regard to the danger he was exposed to, which he should; and would go no other way than that in which it was suspected the ambush was laid; he trusted to the fleetness of his horse in riding swiftly by the suspected place; but the great concourse of people who crouded together to see him, stopped up the way. Accordingly, he was shot from a wooden balcony, the bullet entering a little below the navel, came out at the reins, and killed the horse of George Douglas behind him: The assassin escaped by a back-door. The regent told his attendants that he was wounded, and returned to his lodgings; it was at first thought the wound was not mortal, but his pain increasing, he began to think of death. Some about him told him, That this was the fruit of his lenity, in sparing so many notorious offenders, and among the rest his own murderer; but he replied, "Your importunity shall not make me repent my clemency." Having settled his private affairs, he committed the care of the young king to the nobles there present, and without speaking a reproachful word of any, he departed this life on the 24d of January, 1570. according to Buchanan, 1571. but according to Spotiswood, 1569.

Thus fell the earl of Moray (whom historians ordinarily call, The good regent) after he had escaped so many dangers: He was certainly a worthy governor. Both Buchanan and Spotswood give him the following character: "His death was lamented by all good men, who loved him as the public father of his country, even his enemies confessed his merit when dead; they admired his valour in war, his ready disposition for peace, his activity in business, in which he was commonly very successful; the divine favour seemed to shine on all his actions; he was very merciful to offenders, and equitable in all his decisions. When the field did not call for his presence, he was busied in the administration of justice; by which means the poor were not oppressed, and the terms of law-suits were shortened.—His house was like a holy temple; after meals he caused a chapter of the bible to be read, and asked the opinions of such learned men as were present upon it, not out of a vain curiosity, but from a desire to learn, and reduce to practice what it contained[30]." In a word, he was both in his public and private life, a pattern worthy of imitation, and happy would it be for us, that our nobles were more disposed to walk in the paths which he trode;—for, "Above all his virtues, which were not a few, he shined in piety towards God, ordering himself and his family in such a sort as did more resemble a church than a court; for therein, besides the exercise of devotion, which he never omitted, there was no wickedness to be seen, nay not an unseemly or wanton word to be heard. A man truly good, and worthy to be ranked amongst the best governors, that this kingdom hath enjoyed, and therefore to this day honoured with the title of The good Regent[31]."



The Life of Mr. JOHN KNOX.

Mr. Knox was born in Gifford near Haddington in East Lothian, in the year 1505. His father was related to the antient house of Ranferlie. When he left the grammar school, he was sent to the university of St. Andrews, to study under Mr. John Mair, (a man of considerable learning at that time), and had the degree of master of arts conferred upon him, while very young. He excelled in philosophy and polemical divinity, and was admitted into church orders before the usual time appointed by the canons. Then laying aside all unnecessary branches of learning, he betook himself to the reading of the antients, particularly Angustine's and Jerome's works, with whom he was exceedingly pleased. He profited considerably by the preaching of Thomas Guilliam, a black friar, of sound judgment and doctrine; his discourses led him to study the holy scriptures more closely, by which his spiritual knowledge was increased, and such a zeal for the interest of religion begotten in him, as he became the chief instrument in accomplishing the primitive reformation.

He was a disciple of Mr. George Wishart (as the reader has already seen in the account of his life), which procured him the hatred of the Popish clergy, who could not endure that light which, discovered their idolatrous darkness.

After the death of cardinal Beaton, he retired into the castle of St. Andrews, where he was confined for some time, but the castle being obliged to surrender to the French, he became their prisoner, and was sent aboard the gallies, from whence he made his escape about the year 1550, and went to England, where he preached for several years in Berwick, Newcastle and London, with great applause; his fame at last reached the years of king Edward VI. who offered him a bishopric, which he rejected, as contrary to his principles.

During his stay in England, he was called before the council, and required to answer the following questions:

1. Why he refused the benefice provided for him at London?

2. Whether he thought that no Christian might serve in the ecclesiastical ministration, according to the laws and rites of the realm of England?

3. If kneeling at the Lord's table was not indifferent?

To the first he said, That his conscience witnessed to him that he might profit more in some other place than in London. To the second, That many things needed reformation in the ministry of England, without which no minister did or could discharge his duty before God; for no minister in England had authority to separate the leprous from the whole, which was a chief part of his office, and that he refused no office which might in the least promote God's glory and the preaching of Christ's gospel. And to the third he replied, That Christ's action was most perfect, that it was most safe to follow his example, and that kneeling was a human invention. The answer which he gave to this question, occasioned a considerable deal of altercation betwixt the council and him. There were present the bishops of Canterbury and Ely, the lord treasurer, the earls of Northampton, Shrewsbury, &c. the lord chamberlain and the secretaries: After long reasoning with him, he was desired to take the matter into farther consideration, and so was dismissed.

After the death of king Edward, he retired to Geneva, but soon left that place and went to Francfort, upon the solicitation of the English congregation there; their letter to him was dated September 24th, 1554. While he was in this city, he wrote his admonition to England, and was soon involved in troubles, because he opposed the English liturgy, and refused to communicate after the manner it enjoined. Messrs Isaac and Parry, supported by the English doctors, not only got him discharged to preach, but accused him before the magistrates of high treason against the emperor's son Philip and the queen of England, and to prove the charge, they had recourse to the above-mentioned admonition, in which they alledged he had called the one little inferior to Nero, and the other more cruel than Jezebel. But the magistrates perceiving the design of his accusers, and fearing lest he should some way or other fall into their hands, gave him secret information of his danger, and requested him to leave the city, for they could not save him if he should be demanded by the queen of England in the emperor's name; and having taken the hint, he returned to Geneva.

Here he wrote an admonition to London, Newcastle and Berwick; a letter to Mary dowager of Scotland; an appeal to the nobility, and an admonition to the commons of his own country; and his first blast of the trumpet, &c. He intended to have blown this trumpet three times, if queen Mary's death had not prevented him; understanding that an answer was to be given to his first blast, he deferred the publication of the second, till he saw what answer was necessary for the vindication of the first.

While he was at Geneva, he contracted a close intimacy with Mr. John Calvin, with whom he consulted on every emergency. In the end of harvest 1654, he returned home upon the solicitation of some of the Scots nobility, and began privately to instruct such as resorted to him in the true religion, among whom were the laird of Dun, David Forrest and Elizabeth Adamson, spouse to James Baron burgess of Edinburgh; The idolatry of the mass particularly occupied his attention, as he saw some remarkable for zeal and godliness drawn aside by it; both in public and private he exposed its impiety and danger; his labours succeeded so far, as to draw off some and alarm many others: In a conversation upon this subject at the laird of Dun's house in presence of David Forrest, Mr. Robert Lockhart, John Willock and William Maitland junr. of Lethington, he gave such satisfactory answers to all the objections which were started by the company, that Maitland ended the conversation, saying, "I see very well that all our shifts will serve nothing before God, seeing they stand us in so small stead before men." From this time forward the mass was very little respected.

Mr. Knox continued a month at the laird of Dun's, preaching every day; the principal gentlemen of that country resorted to his ministry. From thence he went to Calder, where the earl of Argyle (then lord Lorn) and lord James (afterwards earl of Moray) heard his doctrine, and highly approved of it—During the winter he taught in Edinburgh, and in the beginning of the spring went to Kyle, where he preached in different places; The earl of Glencairn sent for him to Finlaston, where, after sermon, he administered the Lord's supper, and then returned to Calder.

The people being thus instructed, began to refuse all superstition and idolatry, and set themselves to the utmost of their power to support the true preaching of the gospel. This alarmed the inferior popish clergy so much, that they came from all quarters complaining to the bishops; whereupon Mr. Knox was summoned to appear in the black friars church of Edinburgh on the 15th of May following: which appointment he resolved to observe, and accordingly came to Edinburgh in company with the laird of Dun, and several other gentlemen, but the diet did not hold, because the bishops were afraid to proceed further against him, so that, on the same day that he should have appeared before them, he preached to a greater audience in Edinburgh than ever he had done before. The earl of Marshal being desired by Lord Glencairn to hear Mr. Knox preach, complied, and was so delighted with his doctrine, that he immediately proposed that something should be done to draw the queen regent to hear him likewise; he made this proposal in a letter, which was delivered into her own hand by Glencairn. When she had read it, she gave it to Beaton[32], arch-bishop of Glasgow, saying in ridicule, "Please you, my lord, to read a pasquille."

About this time (1555) he received a letter from the English congregation at Geneva (who were not in communion with the congregation of that name at Francfort), in which they beseech him, in the name of God, that as he was their chosen pastor, he would speedily come to them: In obedience to this call, he sent his wife and mother-in-law before him to Dieppe, but by the importunity of some gentlemen he was prevailed on to stay some time behind them in Scotland, which he spent in going about exhorting the several congregations in which he had preached, to be fervent in prayer, frequent in reading the scriptures, and in mutual conferences till God should give them greater liberty. The earl of Argyle was solicited to press Mr. Knox's stay in this country, but he could not succeed. Mr. Knox told them, That, if they continued earnest in the profession of the faith, God would bless these small beginnings, but that he must for once go and visit that little flock which the wickedness of men had compelled him to leave; and being thus resolved, he went immediately to Geneva. As soon as he was gone, the bishops caused summon him to their tribunal, and for non-compearance they burnt him in effigy on the cross of Edinburgh; from which unjust sentence, when he heard of it, he appealed to the nobility and commons of Scotland.

Upon the receipt of a letter dated March 10, 1556, subscribed by the earls of Glencairn, Erskine, Argyle, and Moray, Mr. Knox resolved to return again into Scotland. Committing the care of his flock at Geneva to Mr. John Calvin, and coming to Dieppe, he wrote from thence to Mrs. Anna Locke, a declaration of his opinion of the English service-book, expressing himself thus, "Our captain Christ Jesus and Satan his adversary are now at open defiance, their banners are displayed, and the trumpet is blown on both sides for assembling their armies: our master calleth upon his own, and that with vehemency, that they may depart from Babylon, yea he threateneth death and damnation to such as either in their forehead or right-hand have the mark of the beast, and a portion of this mark are all these dregs of papistry, which are left in your great book of England (viz. crossing in baptism, kneeling at the Lord's table, mumbling or singing of the litany, &c. &c.) any one jot of which diabolical inventions will I never counsel any man to use, &c."

He was detained in this place much longer than expectation, which obliged the Scots nobility to renew their solicitations; which he complied with, and arrived in Scotland on the second of May 1559, being then 54 years old.—He preached first at Dundee and afterwards at St. Johnstoun, with great success. About this time the queen put some preachers to the horn, prohibiting all upon pain of rebellion to comfort, relieve, or assist them; which enraged the multitude to that degree, that they would be restrained, neither by the preachers nor magistrates, from pulling down the images and other monuments of idolatry in St. Johnstoun: which being told to the queen, it so enraged her, that she vowed to destroy man, woman and child, in that town, and burn it to the ground. To execute this threat, she caused her French army to march towards the place, but being informed that multitudes from the neighbouring country were assembling in the town for the defence of its inhabitants, her impetuosity was checked, and she resolved to use stratagem where force could not avail her; accordingly she sent the earls of Argyle and Moray, to learn what was their design in such commotions, Mr. Knox, in name of the rest, made answer, "That the present troubles ought to move the hearts of all the true servants of God, and lovers of their country, to consider what the end of such tyrannical measures would be, by which the emissaries of Satan sought the destruction of all the friends of religion in the country. Therefore I most humbly require of you, my lords, to tell the queen, in my name, that we, whom she, in her blind rage doth thus persecute, are the servants of God, faithful and obedient subjects of this realm, and that the religion which she would maintain by fire and sword, is not the true religion of Jesus Christ, but expresly contrary to the same; a superstitious device of men, which I offer myself to prove, against all who, in Scotland, maintain the contrary, freedom of debate being allowed, and the word of God being the judge. Tell her from me, that her enterprize shall not succeed in the end, for she fights not against man only, but against the eternal God, &c." Argyle and Moray promised to deliver this message, and Mr. Knox preached a sermon, exhorting them to constancy, adding, "I am persuaded that this promise" (meaning the promise she had made to do them no harm if they would leave the town peaceably) "shall be no longer kept than the queen and her Frenchmen can get the upper hand;" which accordingly happened when she took possession of the town, and put a garrison of French in it. This breach of promise disgusted the earls of Argyle and Moray to that degree, that they forsook her and joined the congregation. Having assembled with the laird of Dun and others, they sent for Mr. Knox, who, in his way to them preached in Crail in Anstruther, intending to preach next day at St. Andrews.

This design coming to the ears of the bishop, he raised 100 spear-men, and sent this message to the lords, "That if John Knox offered to preach there, he should have a warm military reception;" They, in their turn, forewarned Mr. Knox of his danger, and dissuaded him from going; he made answer, "God is my witness, that I never preached Jesus Christ in contempt of any man, neither am I concerned about going thither: tho' I would not willingly injure the worldly interest of any creature, I cannot, in conscience, delay preaching to-morrow, if I am not detained by violence; as for fear of danger to my person, let no man be solicitous about that, for my life is in the hand of him whose glory I seek, and therefore I fear not their threats, so as to cease from doing my duty, when of his mercy God offereth the occasion. I desire the hand and weapon of no man to defend me, only I crave audience, which if denied to me here, at this time, I must seek further where I may have it." The lords were satisfied that he should fulfil his intention, which he did, with such boldness and success (without any interruption), that the magistrates and people of the town immediately after sermon agreed to remove all monuments of idolatry; which they did, with great expedition.

After this, several skirmishes ensued between the queen and lords of the congregation. But at last, the queen sickened and died, and a general peace, which lasted for some time, was procured, during which, the commissioners of the Scots nobility (anno 1560), were employed in settling minsters in different places. Mr. Knox was appointed to Edinburgh, where he continued until the day of his death.

The same year the Scots confession was compiled and agreed upon; and that the church might be established upon a good foundation, a commission and charge was given to Mr. Knox and five others, to draw up a form of government and discipline of the church. When they had finished it, they presented it to the nobility, by whom it was afterwards ratified and approved of.

But this progress which was daily making in the reformation, soon met with a severe check by the arrival of queen Mary from France in August 1561.; with her came popery and all manner of profanity; the mass was again publicly set up, at which the religious part of the nation were highly offended, and none more than Mr. Knox, who ceased not to expose the evil and danger of it on every occasion: On which account the queen and court were much exasperated. They called him before them, and charged him as guilty of high treason. The queen being present, produced a letter, wrote by him, wherein it was alledged that he had convocated her majesty's lieges against law; whereupon a long reasoning ensued between him and secretary Lethington upon the contents of said letter; in which Mr. Knox gave such solid and bold answers, in defence of himself and doctrine, that at last he was acquitted by the lords of the council, to the no small displeasure of the queen and those of the popish party.

Mr. Knox, in a conference with the queen about this time, said, "If princes exceed their bounds, they may be resisted even by power, for there is no greater honour and obedience to be paid to princes than God hath commanded to be given to father and mother. If children join together against their father stricken with a frenzy, and seeking to slay his own children, apprehend him, take his sword or other weapons from him, bind his hands, and put him in prison till his frenzy overpass, do they any wrong, or will God be offended with them for hindering their father from committing horrible murder?—Even so, madam, if princes will murder the children of God their subjects, their blind zeal is but a mad frenzy. To take the sword from them, to bind them, and to cast them into prison till they be brought to a sober mind, is not disobedience, but just obedience, because it agreeeth with the word of God." The queen hearing this, stood for some time as one amazed, and changed countenance. No appearance was, at this time, of her imprisonment[33].

After the queen's marriage with Henry earl of Darnly, a proclamation was made in 1565, signifying, That forasmuch as certain rebels who, under the colour of religion, (meaning those who opposed the measures of the court) intended nothing but the subversion of the commonwealth, therefore they charged all manner of men, under pain of life, lands, and goods, to resort and meet their majesties at Linlithgow on the 24th of August. Upon Sabbath the 19th, the king came to the high church of Edinburgh, where Mr. Knox preached from these words, O Lord our Lord, other lords, beside thee, have had the dominion over us, &c. In his sermon he took occasion to speak of wicked princes, who, for the sins of a people, were sent as scourges upon them, and also said, "That God set in that room boys and women; and that God justly punished Ahab and his posterity, because he would not take order with the harlot Jezebel." These things enraged the king to a very high degree. Mr. Knox was immediately ordered before the council, who went thither attended by some of the most respectable citizens; when called in, the secretary signified that the king was much offended with some words in his sermons, (as above-mentioned), and ordered him to abstain from preaching for fifteen or twenty days; to which Mr. Knox answered, That he had spoken nothing but according to his text, and if the church would command him either to speak or refrain from speaking, he would obey so far as the word of God would permit him. Nevertheless, for this and another sermon which he preached before the lords, in which he shewed the bad consequences that would follow upon the queen's being married to a papist, he must be, by the queen's order, prohibited from preaching for a considerable time.

It cannot be expected, that we should enumerate all the indefatigable labours, and pertinent speeches which, on sundry occasions, he made to the queen, nor the opposition which he met with in promoting the work of reformation; these will be found at large in the histories of these times.

The popish faction now found, that it would be impossible to get their idolatry re-established, while the reformation was making such progress, and while Mr. Knox and his associates had such credit with the people.—They therefore set other engines to work, than these they had hitherto used; they spared no pains to blast his reputation by malicious calumnies, and even by making attempts upon his life; for, one night as he was sitting at the head of a table in his own house, with his back to the window, (as was his custom), he was fired at from the other side of the street, on purpose to kill him; the shot entered at the window, but he being near to the other side of the table, the assassin missed his mark; the bullet struck the candlestick before him, and made a hole in the foot of it: Thus was he that was with him, stronger than they that were against him.

Mr. Knox was an eminent wrestler with God in prayer, and like a prince prevailed; the queen regent herself gave him this testimony, when, upon a particular occasion, she said, She was more afraid of his prayers than of an army of ten thousand men. He was likewise warm and pathetic in his preaching, in which such prophetical expressions as dropt from him, had the most remarkable accomplishment; as an instance of this, when he was confined in the castle of St. Andrews, he foretold both the manner of their surrender, and their deliverance from the French gallies; and when the lords of the congregation were twice discomfited by the French army, he assured them, in the mean time, that the Lord would prosper the work of reformation. Again, when queen Mary refused to come and hear sermon, he bid them tell her, That she would yet be obliged to hear the word of God whether she would or not; which came to pass at her arraignment in England. At another time he thus addressed himself to her husband Henry, lord Darnly, while in the king's seat in the high church of Edinburgh, "Have you for the pleasure of that dainty dame cast the psalm book in the fire; the Lord shall strike both head and tail;" both king and queen died violent deaths. He likewise said, when the castle of Edinburgh held out for the queen against the regent, that "the castle should spue out the captain (meaning the laird of Grange) with shame, and that he should not come out at the gate, but over the wall, and that the tower called Davies tower should run like a sand-glass;" which was fulfilled in a few years after, the same captain being obliged to come over the wall on a ladder, with a staff in his hand, and the said forework of the castle running down like a sand brae.

On the 24th of January 1570, Mr. Knox being in the pulpit, a paper was put into his hands among others, containing the names of the sick people to be prayed for; the paper contained these words, "Take up the man whom you accounted another God," (this alluded to the earl of Moray who was slain the day before). Having read it he put it in his pocket, without shewing the least discomposure. After sermon, he lamented the loss which both church and state had met with in the death of that worthy nobleman, (meaning the regent) shewing, that God takes away good and wise rulers from a people in his wrath, and, at last, said, "There is one in the company who maketh that horrible murder, at which all good men have occasion to be sorrowful, the subject of his mirth; I tell him, he shall die in a strange land, where he shall not have a friend near him to hold up his head," One Mr. Thomas Maitland being the author of that insulting speech, and hearing what Mr. Knox said, confessed the whole to his sister the lady Trabrown, but said, That John Knox was raving to speak of he knew not whom; she replied with tears, That none of Mr. Knox's threatenings fell to the ground. This gentleman afterwards went abroad, and died in Italy, on his way to Rome, having no man to assist him.

Mr. Knox's popularity was now so well established, that the malignant party, finding it impossible to alienate the hearts of the people from him, began now openly to work his destruction, fortifying the town and castle with their garrisons; they vented their malice against him by many furious threatenings. Upon which he was urged by his friends to leave Edinburgh for his own safety, which at last he did in May 1571, and went to St. Andrews, where the earl of Morton (who was then regent), urged him to inaugurate the arch-bishop of that see. This he declined, with solemn protestations against it, and denounced an anathema on the giver and receiver. Though he was then very weak in body, he would not refrain from preaching, and was obliged to be supported by his servant Richard Bannantyne, in going to church; and, when in the pulpit, he behoved to rest sometime before he could proceed to preach, but before he ended his sermon, he became so vigorous and active, that he was like to have broken the pulpit to pieces.

Here he continued till the end of August 1572, when the civil broils were a little abated, upon which receiving a letter from Edinburgh, he returned to his flock. He was now much oppressed with the infirmities of old age, and the extraordinary fatigues he had undergone; the death of the good regent, the earl of Moray, had made deep impressions on him, but when he heard of the massacre of Paris[34], and the murder of the good admiral Coligni, these melancholy news almost deprived him of his life. Upon finding his dissolution approaching, he prevailed with the council and kirk-session of Edinburgh, to concur with him in admitting one Mr. James Lawson as his successor, who was at that time professor of philosophy in the college of Aberdeen; he wrote a letter to Mr. Lawson, intreating him to accept of this charge, adding this postscript, Accelera, mi frater, alioqui sero venies, i. e. Make haste, my brother, otherwise you will come too late, meaning, that if he came not speedily, he would find him dead: which words had this effect on Mr. Lawson, that he set out immediately, making all possible haste to Edinburgh, where, after he had preached twice to the full satisfaction of the people, the ninth of November was appointed for his admission unto that congregation. Mr. Knox (though then still weaker) preached upon that occasion with much power, and with the greatest comfort to the hearers. In the close of his sermon, he called God to witness, that he had walked in a good conscience among them, not seeking to please men, nor serving his own nor other men's inclinations, but in all sincerity and truth preaching the gospel of Christ. Then praising God, who had given them one in his room, he exhorted them to stand fast in the faith they had received, and having prayed fervently for the divine blessing upon them, and the increase of the Spirit upon their new pastor, he gave them his last farewel, with which the congregation were much affected.

Being carried home, that same day he was confined to his bed, and, on the thirteenth of the month, was so enfeebled that he was obliged to lay aside his ordinary reading of the scripture. The next day he would rise out of bed, being asked, what he intended by getting out of bed? he replied, he would go to church, thinking that had been the Lord's day; he told them, he had been all the night meditating upon the resurrection of Christ, which he should have preached on in order after the death of Christ, which he had finished the sabbath before. He had often desired of God, that he would end his days in teaching, and meditating upon that doctrine; which desire seems to have been granted to him. Upon monday the 17th, the elders and deacons being come to him, he said, "The time is approaching, for which I have long thirsted, wherein I shall be relieved and be free from all cares, and be with my Saviour for ever; and now, God is my witness, whom I have served with my spirit in the gospel of his Son, that I have taught nothing but the true and solid doctrines of the gospel, and that the end which I purposed in all my doctrine, was to instruct the ignorant, to confirm the weak, to comfort the consciences of those that were humbled under the sense of their sins, and to denounce the threatenings of God's word against such as were rebellious. I am not ignorant, that many have blamed me, and yet do blame my too great rigour and severity, but God knoweth, that, in my heart, I never hated the persons of those against whom I thundered God's judgments; I did only hate their sins, and laboured, according to my power, to gain them to Christ; that I did forbear none of whatsoever condition, I did it out of the fear of my God, who placed me in this function of the ministry, and I know will bring me to an account." Then he exhorted them to constancy, and intreated them never to join with the wicked, but rather to choose with David to flee to the mountains, than to remain with such company. After this exhortation to the elders and deacons, he charged Mr. David Lindsay and Mr. James Lawson to take heed to feed the flock over which the Holy Ghost had made them overseers: To Mr. Lawson in particular, he said, "Fight the good fight, do the work of the Lord with courage and with a willing mind; and God from above bless you and the church whereof you have the charge, against which the gates of hell shall not prevail." Then by prayer he recommended the whole company present to the grace of God, and afterwards desired his wife, or Richard Bannantyne to read the 17th chapter of John, a chapter of the Ephesians, and the 33d chapter of Isaiah daily, after he was unable to read himself: Sometimes he desired part of Mr. Calvin's sermons in French to be read to him. One time when reading these sermons, they supposed him to be sleeping, and asked him, If he heard what was read? he replied, "I hear, I praise God, and understand far better."

One day after this, Mr. David Lindsay coming to see him, he said unto him "Well, brother, I thank God I have desired all this day to have had you, that I might send you to that man in the castle, the laird of Grange, whom you know I have loved dearly. Go, I pray you, and tell him from me, in the name of God, that unless he leave that evil course wherein he has entered, neither shall that rock (meaning the castle of Edinburgh, which he then kept out against the king) afford him any help, nor the carnal wisdom of that man, whom he counteth half a god (meaning young Lethington), but he shall be pulled out of that nest, and brought down over the wall with shame, and his carcase shall be hung before the sun, so God hath assured me." When Mr. David delivered this message, the captain seemed to be much moved, but after a little conference with Lethington, he returned to Mr. Lindsay, and dismissed him with a disdainful countenance and answer. When he reported this to Mr. Knox, he said, "Well, I have been earnest with my God anent that man, I am sorry that it should so befal his body, yet God assureth me, there is mercy for his soul. But for the other (meaning Lethington), I have no warrant to say that it shall be well with him." The truth of this seemed to appear in a short time thereafter; for it was thought that Lethington poisoned himself to escape public punishment; he lay unburied in the steeple of Leith until his body was quite corrupted; but Sir William Kirkaldie of Grange was, on the third of August next, executed at the cross of Edinburgh; he caused Mr. Lindsay to repeat Mr. Knox's words concerning him a little before his execution, and was much comforted by them; he said to Mr. Lindsay, (who accompanied him to the scaffold) "I hope, when men shall think I am gone, I shall give a token of the assurance of God's mercy to my soul, according to the speech of that man of God." Accordingly, when he was cast over the ladder, with his face towards the east, when all present thought he was dead, he lifted up his hands, which were bound, and let them fall softly down again, as if praising God for his great mercy towards him. See Spotswood's history, page 266, 272. and Calderwood's history, page 62, 63.

Another of Mr. Knox's visitors desired him to praise God for the good he had done. He answered, "Flesh of itself is too proud, and needs nothing to puff it up," and protested that he only laid claim to the free mercy of God in Christ among others. To the earl of Morton (who was then about to receive the regency, the earl of Moray being dead) he was heard to say, "My lord, God hath given you many blessings; he hath given you high honour, birth, great riches, many good friends, and is now to prefer you to the government of the realm: In his name, I charge you, that you will use these blessings better in time to come, than you have done in time past: in all your actions seek first the glory of God, the furtherance of his gospel, the maintenance of his church and ministry, and then be careful of the king, to procure his good and the welfare of the kingdom. If you act thus, God will be with you; if otherwise, he shall deprive you of all these benefits, and your end shall be shameful and ignominious." This threatening, Morton, to his melancholy experience, confessed was literally accomplished. At his execution in June 1581, he called to mind Mr. Knox's words, and acknowledged, that in what he had said to him he had been a true prophet.

Upon the Lord's day, November 23, after he had lain for some time very quiet, he said, "If any man be present, let him come and see the work of God;" for he thought (as was supposed) then to have expired. His servant having been sent for Mr. Johnston writer, he burst forth into these words, "I have been in meditation these two last nights upon the troubled kirk of God, despised in the world, but precious in his fight. I have called to God for her, and commended her to Christ her head: I have been fighting against Satan, who is ever ready for the assault; I have fought against spiritual wickednesses and have prevailed; I have been as it were in heaven, and have tasted of its joys." After sermon, several persons came to visit him; one asked him (upon perceiving his breathing shortened), If he had any pain? He answered, "I have no more pain than he that is now in heaven, and am content, if it please God, to lie here seven years." Many times, when he was lying as if asleep, he was in meditation, and was heard to say, "Lord, grant true pastors to thy church, that purity of doctrine may be retained. Restore peace again to this commonwealth, with godly rulers and magistrates. O serve the Lord in fear, and death shall not be troublesome to you. Blessed is the death of those that have part in the death of Jesus. Come, Lord Jesus, sweet Jesus, into thy hand I commend my spirit."

That night, Dr. Preston being come to him, and was told by some of his constant attendants that he was often very uneasy in his sleep, the doctor asked him after he awoke, how he did, and what made him mourn so heavily in his sleep, he answered, "In my life-time, I have been often assaulted by Satan, and many times he hath cast my sins in my teeth, to bring me to despair; yet God gave me strength to overcome his temptations: and now that subtile serpent, who never ceaseth to tempt, hath taken another course, and seeks to persuade me, that all my labours in the ministry, and the fidelity I have showed in that service have merited heaven and immortality. But blessed be God, that he hath brought to my mind that scripture, What hast thou that thou hast not received, and not I, but the grace of God which is in me, with which he hath gone away ashamed, and shall no more return, and now I am sure my battle is at an end, and that I shall shortly, without pain of body or trouble of spirit, change this mortal and miserable life, for that happy and immortal life that shall never have an end."

Having, some time before, given orders for making his coffin, he rose out of bed, Nov. 24. about ten o'clock, and put on his hose and doublet, and sat up about the space of half an hour, and then returned to bed again. Being asked by Kingincleugh, if he had any pain, he answered, "No pain, but such as, I trust, will soon put an end to this battle, yea, I do not esteem that pain to me, which is the beginning of eternal joy." In the afternoon he caused his wife to read the 15th chapter of 1 Cor. When it was ended, he said, "Is not that a comfortable chapter?" A little after, "I commend my soul, spirit and body into thy hands, O Lord." About five o'clock at night, he said to his wife, "Go, read where I cast my first anchor;" this was the 17th chapter of John, which she read, together with part of Calvin's sermons on the Ephesians. They then went to prayer, after which Dr. Preston asked him, If he heard the prayer? he answered, "Would to God that you and all men had heard it as I have done; I praise God for that heavenly sound;" adding, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." His servant, Richard Bannantyne, hearing him give a long sigh, said, "Now, Sir, the time you have long called to God for, doth instantly come, and, seeing all natural power fails, give us some sign, that you live upon the comfortable promises which you have so often shewed to us." At this speech he lifted up one of his hands, and immediately after, without any struggle, as one falling asleep, he departed this life about eleven o'clock at night, finishing his Christian warfare, he entered into the joy of his Lord, to receive a crown of righteousness prepared for him (and such as him), from before the foundation of the world.