Volume 2 — PERIOD IX. FROM OCTOBER 1570, WHEN HE WAS STRUCK WITH APOPLEXY, TO HIS DEATH, IN NOVEMBER 1572. (continued 2)

His ministerial functions were discharged with the greatest assiduity, fidelity, and fervour. No avocation or infirmity prevented him from appearing in the pulpit. Preaching was an employment in which he delighted, and for which he was qualified, by an extensive acquaintance with the scriptures, and by the happy art of applying them, in the most striking manner, to the existing circumstances of the church and of his hearers. His powers of alarming the conscience, and arousing the passions, have been frequently celebrated; but he excelled also in unfolding the consolations of the gospel, and in calming the breasts of those who were agitated by a sense of guilt, or suffering under the ordinary afflictions of life. When he discoursed of the griefs and joys, the conflicts and triumphs, of genuine christians, he described what he had himself known and experienced. The letters which he wrote to his familiar acquaintances breathe the most ardent piety. The religious meditations in which he spent his last sickness, were not confined to that period of his life; they had been his habitual employment from the time that he was brought to the knowledge of the truth, and his solace amidst all the hardships and perils through which he had passed.

With his brethren in the ministry he lived in the utmost cordiality. We never read of the slightest variance between him and any of his colleagues. While he was dreaded and hated by the licentious and profane, whose vices he never spared, the religious and sober part of his countrymen felt a veneration for him, which was founded on his unblemished reputation, as well as his popular talents as a preacher. In private life, he was beloved and revered by his friends and domestics. He was subject to the illapses of melancholy and depression of spirits, arising partly from natural constitution, and partly from the maladies which had long preyed upon his health; which made him (to use his own expression) churlish, and less capable of pleasing and gratifying his friends than he was otherwise disposed to be. This he confessed, and requested them to excuse;319 but his friendship was sincere, affectionate, and steady. When free from this morose affection, he relished the pleasures of society, and, among his acquaintances, was accustomed to unbend his mind, by indulging in innocent recreation, and in the sallies of wit and humour, to which he had a strong propensity, notwithstanding the graveness of his general deportment. In the course of his public life, the severer virtues of his character were more frequently called into action; but we have met with repeated instances of his acute sensibility; and the unaffected tenderness which occasionally breaks forth in his private letters, shows that he was no stranger to any of the charities of human life, and that he could “rejoice with them that rejoiced, and weep with them that wept.”

Most of his faults may be traced to his natural temperament, and to the character of the age and country in which he lived. His passions were strong; he felt with the utmost keenness on every subject which interested him; and as he felt he expressed himself, without disguise and without affectation. The warmth of his zeal was apt to betray him into intemperate language; his inflexible adherence to his opinions inclined to obstinacy; and his independence of mind occasionally assumed the appearance of haughtiness and disdain. In one solitary instance, the anxiety which he felt for the preservation of the great cause in which he was so deeply interested, betrayed him into an advice which was not more inconsistent with the laws of strict morality, than it was contrary to the stern uprightness, and undisguised sincerity, which characterised the rest of his conduct. A stranger to complimentary or smooth language, little concerned about the manner in which his reproofs were received, provided they were merited, too much impressed with the evil of the offence to think of the rank or character of the offender, he often “uttered his admonitions with an acrimony and vehemence more apt to irritate than to reclaim.” But he protested, at a time when persons are least in danger of deception, and in a manner which should banish every suspicion of the purity of his motives, that, in his sharpest rebukes, he was influenced by hatred of vice, not of the vicious; that his great aim was to reclaim the guilty, and that in using those means which were necessary for this end, he frequently did violence to his own feelings.

Those who have charged him with insensibility and inhumanity, have fallen into a mistake very common with superficial thinkers, who, in judging of the character of persons who lived in a state of society very different from their own, have pronounced upon their moral qualities from the mere aspect of their exterior manners. He was austere, not unfeeling; stern, not savage; vehement, not vindictive. There is not an instance of his employing his influence to revenge any personal injury which he had received. Rigid as his maxims respecting the execution of justice were, there are numerous instances on record of his interceding for the pardon of criminals; and, unless when crimes were atrocious, or when the welfare of the state was in the most imminent danger, he never exhorted the executive government to the exercise of severity. The boldness and ardour of his mind, called forth by the peculiar circumstances of the times, led him to push his sentiments on some subjects to an extreme, and no consideration could induce him to retract an opinion of which he continued to be persuaded; but his behaviour after his publication against female government, proves that he satisfied himself with declaring his own views, without seeking to disturb the public peace by urging their adoption. His conduct at Frankfort evinced his moderation in religious differences among brethren of the same faith, and his disposition to make all reasonable allowances for those who could not go the same length with him in reformation, provided they abstained from imposing upon the consciences of others. The liberties which he took in censuring from the pulpit the actions of individuals of the highest rank and station, appear the more strange and intolerable to us, when contrasted with the reserve and timidity of modern times; but we should recollect that they were then common, and that they were not without their utility, in an age when the licentiousness and oppression of the great and powerful often set at defiance the ordinary restraints of law.

In contemplating such a character as that of Knox, it is not the man so much as the reformer, that ought to engage our attention. The talents which are suited to one age and station would be altogether unsuitable to another; and the wisdom displayed by Providence, in raising up persons endowed with qualities singularly adapted to the work which they have to perform for the benefit of mankind, demands our particular consideration. We must admire the austere and rough reformer, whose voice once cried in the wilderness, who was clothed with camel’s hair, and girt about the loins with a leathern girdle, who came neither eating nor drinking, but laying the axe to the root of every tree, warned a generation of vipers to flee from the wrath to come, saying even to the tyrant upon the throne, “It is not lawful for thee.” And we must consider him as fitted for “serving the will of God in his generation,” according to his rank and place, as well as his Divine Master, whose advent he announced, who “did not strive, nor cry, nor cause his voice to be heard in the streets, nor break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax.” To those who complain, that they are disappointed at not finding, in our national Reformer, courteous manners, and a winning address, we may say, in the language of our Lord to the Jews concerning the Baptist: “What went ye out into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken with the wind? What went ye out for to see? A man clothed in soft raiment? Behold, they which are gorgeously apparelled, and live delicately, are in kings’ courts. But what went ye out for to see? A prophet? Yea, I say unto you, and more than a prophet.” To the men of this generation, as well as to the Jews of old, may be applied the parable of the children sitting in the market‑place, and calling one to another, and saying, “We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you, and ye have not wept.” Disaffection to the work often lurks under cavils against the instruments by which it is carried on; and had Knox been softer and more yielding in his temper, he would have been pronounced unfit for his office by the very persons who now censure his harshness and severity. “But wisdom is justified of all her children.” Before the Reformation, superstition, shielded by ignorance, and armed with power, governed with gigantic sway. Men of mild spirits, and of gentle manners, would have been as unfit for taking the field against this enemy, as a dwarf or a child for encountering a giant. What did Erasmus in the days of Luther? What would Lowth have done in the days of Wickliffe, or Blair in those of Knox? It has been justly observed concerning our Reformer, that “those very qualities which now render his character less amiable, fitted him to be the instrument of providence for advancing the Reformation among a fierce people, and enabled him to face danger, and surmount opposition, from which a person of a more gentle spirit would have been apt to shrink back.”320 Viewing his character in this light, those who cannot regard him as an amiable man, may, without hesitation, pronounce him a Great Reformer.

The most disinterested of the nobility, who were embarked with him in the same cause, sacrificed on some occasions the public good to their private interests, and disappointed the hopes which he had formed of them. The most upright of his associates in the ministry relaxed their exertions, or suffered themselves at times to be drawn into measures that were unsuitable to their station, and hurtful to the reformed religion. Goodman, after being adopted by the church of Scotland, and ranked among her reformers, yielded so far to the love of country as to desert a people who were warmly attached to him, and return to the bosom of a less pure church, which received him with coldness and distrust. Willock, after acquitting himself honourably from the commencement of the interesting conflict, withdrew before the victory was completely secured, and, wearied out with the successive troubles in which his native country was involved, sought a retreat for himself in England. Craig, being left without the assistance of his colleague, and placed between two conflicting parties, betrayed his fears by having recourse to temporizing measures. Douglas, in his old age, became the dupe of persons whose rapacity impoverished the protestant church. And each of the superintendents was, at one time or another, complained of for neglect or for partiality, in the discharge of his functions. But from the time that the standard of truth was first raised by him in his native country, till it dropped from his hands at death, Knox never shrunk from danger—never consulted his own ease or advantage—never entered into any compromise with the enemy—never was bribed or frightened into cowardly silence; but keeping his eye singly and steadily fixed on the advancement of religion and of liberty, supported throughout the character of the Reformer of Scotland.

Knox bore a striking resemblance to Luther in personal intrepidity and in popular eloquence. He approached nearest to Calvin in his religious sentiments, in the severity of his manners, and in a certain impressive air of melancholy which pervaded his character. And he resembled Zuinglius in his ardent attachment to the principles of civil liberty, and in combining his exertions for the reformation of the church with uniform endeavours to improve the political state of the people. Not that I would place our Reformer on a level with this illustrious triumvirate. There is a splendour which surrounds the great German reformer, partly arising from the intrinsic heroism of his character, and partly reflected from the interesting situation in which his long and doubtful struggle with the court of Rome placed him in the eyes of Europe, which removes him at a distance from all who started in the same glorious career. The Genevese reformer surpassed Knox in the extent of his theological learning, and in the unrivalled solidity and clearness of his judgment. And the reformer of Switzerland, though inferior to him in masculine elocution, and in daring courage, excelled him in self‑command, in prudence, and in that species of eloquence which steals into the heart, convinces without irritating, and governs without assuming the tone of authority. But although “he attained not to the first three,” I know not, among all the eminent men who appeared at that period, any name which is so well entitled to be placed next to theirs as that of Knox, whether we consider the talents with which he was endowed, or the important services which he performed.

There are perhaps few who have attended to the active and laborious exertions of our Reformer, who have not been insensibly led to form the opinion that he was of a robust constitution. This is however a mistake. He was of small stature, and of a weakly habit of body;321 a circumstance which serves to give us a higher idea of the vigour of his mind. His portrait seems to have been taken more than once during his life, and has been frequently engraved.322 It continues still to frown in the antechamber of queen Mary, to whom he was often an ungracious visitor. We discern in it the traits of his characteristic intrepidity, austerity, and keen penetration. Nor can we overlook his beard, which, according to the custom of the times, he wore long, and reaching to his middle; a circumstance which I mention the rather, because some writers have gravely assured us, that it was the chief thing which procured him reverence among his countrymen.323 A popish author has informed us, that he was gratified with having his picture drawn, and has expressed much horror at this, seeing he had caused all the images of the saints to be broken.324

One charge against him has not yet been noticed. He has been accused of setting up himself for a prophet, of presuming to intrude into the secret counsel of God, and of enthusiastically confounding the suggestions of his own imagination, and the effusions of his own spirit, with the dictates of inspiration, and immediate communications from heaven. Let us examine this accusation a little. It is proper, in the first place, to hear his own statement of the grounds on which he proceeded in many of those warnings which have been denominated predictions. Having, in one of his treatises, denounced the judgments to which the inhabitants of England exposed themselves, by renouncing the gospel, and returning to idolatry, he gives the following explication of the warrant which he had for his threatenings. “Ye would know the groundis of my certitude. God grant that, hearing thame, ye may understand, and stedfastlie believe the same. My assurances are not the mervalles of Merlin, nor yit the dark sentences of prophane prophesies; but the plane treuth of Godis word, the invincibill justice of the everlasting God, and the ordinarie course of his punismentis and plagis frome the beginning, are my assurance and groundis. Godis word threatneth destructioun to all inobedient; his immutabill justice must requyre the same; the ordinarie punishments and plaguis schaw exempillis. What man then can ceise to prophesie?”325 We find him expressing himself in a similar way, in his defence of the threatenings which he uttered against those who had been guilty of the murder of king Henry, and the regent Murray. He denies that he had spoken “as one that entered into the secret counsel of God,” and insists that he had merely declared the judgment which was pronounced in the divine law against murderers, and which had often been exemplified in the vengeance which overtook them, even in this life.326 In so far then his threatenings, or predictions, (for so he repeatedly calls them,) do not stand in need of an apology. Though sometimes expressed in absolute or indefinite language, it is but fair and reasonable to understand them, like similar declarations in scripture, as implying a tacit condition.

There are, however, several of his sayings which, perhaps, cannot be vindicated upon these principles, and which he himself seems to have rested upon different grounds.327 Of this kind are the assurances which he expressed, from the beginning of the Scottish troubles, that the cause of the congregation would ultimately prevail; his confident hope of again preaching in his native country and at St Andrews, avowed by him during his imprisonment on board the French galleys, and frequently repeated during his exile; with the intimations which he gave respecting the death of Thomas Maitland, and Kircaldy of Grange. It cannot be denied that his contemporaries considered these as proceeding from a prophetic spirit, and have attested that they received an exact accomplishment. Without entering on a particular examination of these instances, or venturing to give a decisive opinion respecting any of them, I shall confine myself to a few general observations.

The most easy way of getting rid of this delicate subject is to dismiss it at once, and summarily to pronounce that all pretensions to extraordinary premonitions, since the completing of the canon of inspiration, are unwarranted, and that they ought, without examination, to be discarded and treated as fanciful and visionary. Nor would this fix any peculiar imputation on the character or talents of our Reformer, when it is considered that the most learned persons of that age were under the influence of a still greater weakness, and strongly addicted to the belief of judicial astrology. But I doubt much if this method of determining the question would be doing justice to the subject. Est periculum, ne, aut neglectis his impia fraude, aut susceptis, anili superstitione, obligemur.328 On the one hand, the disposition which mankind discover to pry into the secrets of futurity, has been always accompanied with much credulity and superstition; and it cannot be denied, that the age in which Knox lived was prone to credit the marvellous, especially as to the infliction of divine judgments on individuals. A judicious person, who is aware of this, will not be disposed to acknowledge as preternatural whatever was formerly regarded in this light, and will be on his guard against the illusions of imagination as to impressions which may be made on his own mind.

Nor would it be difficult to produce instances in which writers of a subsequent age, through mistake or under the influence of prepossession, have given a prophetical meaning to words, which originally were not intended to convey any such idea. But, on the other hand, is there not a danger of running into scepticism, and of laying down general principles which may lead us obstinately to contest the truth of the best authenticated facts, if not also to limit the operations of divine providence? This is the extreme to which the present age inclines. That there are instances of persons having had presentiments as to events which afterwards did happen to themselves and others, there is, I think, the best reason to believe. Those who laugh at vulgar credulity, and exert their ingenuity in accounting for such phenomena on ordinary principles, have been exceedingly puzzled with some of these facts—a great deal more puzzled than they have confessed; and the solutions which they have given are, in some cases, as mysterious as any thing included in the intervention of superior spirits, or in preternatural and divine intimations.329 The canon of our faith, as Christians, is contained in the scriptures of the Old and New Testaments; we must not look to impressions or new revelations as the rule of our duty; but that God may, on particular occasions, forewarn persons of some things which shall happen, to testify his approbation of them, to encourage them to confide in him in circumstances of peculiar difficulty, or to serve other important purposes, is not, I think, inconsistent with the principles of either natural or revealed religion. If to believe this be enthusiasm, it is an enthusiasm into which some of the most enlightened and sober men, in modern as well as ancient times, have fallen.330 The reformers were men of singular piety; they were exposed to uncommon opposition, and had uncommon services to perform; they were endued with extraordinary gifts, and why may we not suppose that they were occasionally favoured with extraordinary premonitions, with respect to certain events which concerned themselves, other individuals, or the church in general? But whatever intimations of this kind they received, they never proposed them as a rule of action to themselves or others, nor rested the authority of their mission upon these, nor appealed to them as constituting any part of the evidence of those doctrines which they preached to the world.

Our Reformer left behind him a widow and five children. His two sons were born to him by his first wife, Marjory Bowes. We have already seen, that, about the year 1566, they went to England, where their mother’s relations resided. They received their education at St John’s college, in the university of Cambridge; their names being enrolled in the matriculation‑book only eight days after the death of their father. Nathanael, the eldest of them, after obtaining the degrees of bachelor and master of arts, and being admitted fellow of the college, died in 1580. Eleazar, the youngest son, in addition to the honours attained by his brother, was created bachelor of divinity, ordained one of the preachers of the university, and admitted to the vicarage of Clacton‑Magna. He died in 1591, and was buried in the chapel of St John’s college.331 It appears that both sons died without issue, and the family of the Reformer became extinct in the male line. His other children were daughters by his second wife. The General Assembly testified their respect for his memory by assigning his stipend, for the year after his death, to his widow and three daughters, and this appears to have been continued for some time by the regent Morton, who, though charged with avarice during his administration, treated them with uniform attention and kindness.332 Margaret Stewart, his widow, was afterwards married to Sir Andrew Ker of Fadounside, a strenuous supporter of the Reformation.333 The names of his daughters were Martha, Margaret, and Elizabeth.334 The first was married to James Fleming, a minister of the church of Scotland;335 the second, to Zachary, son of the celebrated Robert Pont;336 and the third to John Welch, minister of Ayr.

Mrs Welch seems to have inherited no inconsiderable portion of her father’s spirit, and she had her share of similar hardships. Her husband was one of those patriotic ministers who resisted the arbitrary measures pursued by James VI. for overturning the government and liberties of the presbyterian church of Scotland. Being determined to abolish the General Assembly, James had, for a considerable time, prevented the meetings of that court by successive prorogations. Perceiving the design of the court, a number of the delegates from synods resolved to keep the diet which had been appointed to be held at Aberdeen in July 1605. They merely constituted the Assembly and appointed a day for its next meeting, and being charged by Laurieston, the king’s commissioner, to dissolve, immediately obeyed; but the commissioner, having ante‑dated the charge, several of the leading members were thrown into prison. Welch and five of his brethren, when called before the privy council, declined that court, as incompetent to judge the offence of which they were accused, according to the laws of the kingdom; on which account they were indicted to stand trial for treason at Linlithgow. Their trial was conducted in the most illegal and unjust manner. The king’s advocate told the jury that the only thing which came under their cognizance was the fact of the declinature, the judges having already found that it was treasonable; and threatened them with an “azize of error,” if they did not proceed as he directed them. After the jury were empannelled, the justice‑clerk went in and threatened them with his majesty’s displeasure, if they acquitted the prisoners. The greater part of the jurors being still reluctant, the chancellor went out and consulted with the other judges, who promised that no punishment should be inflicted on the prisoners, provided the jury brought in a verdict agreeable to the court. By such disgraceful methods, they were induced, at midnight, to find, by a majority of three, that the prisoners were guilty, upon which, they were condemned to suffer the death of traitors.337

Leaving her children at Ayr, Mrs Welch attended her husband in prison, and was present at Linlithgow, with the wives of the other prisoners, on the day of trial. When informed of the sentence, these heroines, instead of lamenting their fate, praised God who had given their husbands courage to stand to the cause of their Master, adding, that, like him, they had been judged and condemned under the covert of night.338

The sentence of death having been changed into banishment, she accompanied her husband to France, where they remained for sixteen years. Mr Welch applied himself with such assiduity to the acquisition of the language of the country, that he was able, in the course of fourteen weeks, to preach in French, and was chosen minister to a protestant congregation at Nerac, from which he was translated to St Jean d’Angely, a fortified town in Lower Charente. War having broken out between Lewis XIII. and his protestant subjects, St Jean d’Angely was besieged by the king in person. On this occasion, Welch not only animated the inhabitants of the town to a vigorous resistance by his exhortations, but he appeared on the walls, and gave his assistance to the garrison. The king was at last admitted into the town in consequence of a treaty, and being displeased that Welch preached during his residence in it, sent the duke d’Espernon, with a company of soldiers, to take him from the pulpit. When the preacher saw the duke enter the church, he ordered his hearers to make room for the marshal of France, and desired him to sit down and hear the word of God. He spoke with such an air of authority that the duke involuntarily took a seat, and listened to the sermon with great gravity and attention. He then brought Welch to the king, who asked him, how he durst preach there, since it was contrary to the laws of the kingdom for any of the pretended reformed to officiate in places where the court resided. “Sir,” replied Welch, “if your majesty knew what I preached, you would not only come and hear it yourself, but make all France hear it; for I preach not as those men you use to hear. First, I preach that you must be saved by the merits of Jesus Christ, and not your own; and I am sure your conscience tells you that your good works will never merit heaven. Next, I preach, that, as you are king of France, there is no man on earth above you; but these men whom you hear, subject you to the pope of Rome, which I will never do.” Pleased with this reply, Lewis said to him, “Hé bien, vous seriez mon ministre;”339 and addressing him by the title of Father, assured him of his protection. And he was as good as his word; for St Jean d’Angely being reduced by the royal forces in 1621, the king gave directions to De Vitry, one of his generals, to take care of his minister; in consequence of which, Welch and his family were conveyed, at his majesty’s expense, to Rochelle.340

Having lost his health, and the physicians informing him that the only prospect which he had of recovering it, was by returning to his native country, Mr Welch ventured, in the year 1622, to come to London. But his own sovereign was incapable of treating him with that generosity which he had experienced from the French monarch; and, dreading the influence of a man who was far gone with a consumption, he absolutely refused to give him permission to return to Scotland. Mrs Welch, by means of some of her mother’s relations at court, obtained access to James, and petitioned him to grant this liberty to her husband. The following singular conversation took place on that occasion. His majesty asked her, who was her father. She replied, “John Knox.”—“Knox and Welch!” exclaimed he, “the devil never made such a match as that.”—“It’s right like, sir,” said she, “for we never speired341 his advice.” He asked her how many children her father had left, and if they were lads or lasses. She said three, and they were all lasses. “God be thanked!” cried the king, lifting up both his hands; “for an they had been three lads, I had never bruiked342 my three kingdoms in peace.” She again urged her request, that he would give her husband his native air. “Give him his native air!” replied the king, “give him the devil!”—“Give that to your hungry courtiers,” said she, offended at his profaneness. He told her at last, that if she would persuade her husband to submit to the bishops, he would allow him to return to Scotland. Mrs Welch, lifting up her apron, and holding it towards the king, replied, in the true spirit of her father, “Please your majesty, I’d rather kep343 his head there.”344

Welch was soon after released from the power of the despot, and from his own sufferings. “This month of May, 1622,” says one of his intimate friends, “we received intelligence of the death of that holy servant of God, Mr Welch, one of the fathers and pillars of that church, and the light of his age, who died at London, an exile from his native country, on account of his opposition to the re‑establishment of episcopal government, and his firm support of the presbyterian and synodical discipline, received and established among us; and that after eighteen years’ banishment—a man full of the Holy Spirit zeal, charity, and incredible diligence in the duties of his office.” The death of his wife is recorded by the same pen. “This month of January, 1625, died at Ayr, my cousin, Mrs Welch, daughter of that great servant of God, the late John Knox, and wife of that holy man of God, Mr Welch, above‑mentioned; a spouse and daughter worthy of such a husband, and such a father.”345

The account of our Reformer’s publications has been partly anticipated in the course of the preceding narrative. Though his writings were of great utility, it was not by them, but by his personal exertions, that he chiefly advanced the Reformation, and transmitted his name to posterity. He did not view this as the field in which he was called to labour. “That I did not in writing communicate my judgment upon the scriptures,” says he, “I have ever thought myself to have most just reason. For, considering myself rather called of my God to instruct the ignorant, comfort the sorrowful, confirm the weak, and rebuke the proud, by tongue and lively voice, in these most corrupt days, than to compose books for the age to come, (seeing that so much is written, and by men of most singular erudition, and yet so little well observed,) I decreed to contain myself within the bounds of that vocation whereunto I found myself especially called.”346 This resolution was most judiciously formed. His situation was very different from that of the first protestant reformers. They found the whole world in ignorance of the doctrines of Christianity. Men were either destitute of books, or such as they possessed were calculated only to mislead. The oral instructions of a few individuals could extend but a small way; it was principally by means of their writings, which circulated with amazing rapidity, that they benefited mankind, and became not merely the instructors of the particular cities and countries where they resided and preached, but the reformers of Europe. By the time that Knox appeared on the field, their translations of scripture, their judicious commentaries on its different books, and their able defences of its doctrines, were laid open to the English reader.347 What was more immediately required of him was to use the peculiar talent in which he excelled, and, “by tongue and lively voice,” to imprint the doctrines of the Bible upon the hearts of his countrymen. When he was deprived of an opportunity of doing this during his exile, there could not be a more proper substitute than that which he adopted, by publishing familiar epistles, exhortations, and admonitions, in which he briefly reminded them of the truths which they had embraced, and warned them to flee from the abominations of popery. These could be circulated and read with far more ease, and to a far greater extent, than large treatises.

Of the many sermons preached by him during his ministry, he published but one, which was extorted from him by peculiar circumstances. It affords a very favourable specimen of his talents; and shows, that if he had applied himself to writing, he was qualified for excelling in that department. He had a ready command of language, and expressed himself with great perspicuity, animation, and force. Though he despised the tinsel of rhetoric, he was acquainted with the principles of that art, and when he had leisure and inclination to polish his style, wrote with propriety, and even with elegance. Those who have read his Letter to the Queen Regent, his Answer to Tyrie, or his papers in the account of the dispute with Kennedy, will be satisfied of this. During his residence in England, he acquired the habit of writing the language according to the manner of that country; and in all his publications which appeared during his lifetime, the English and not the Scottish orthography and mode of expression are used.348 In this respect, there is a very evident difference between them and the vernacular writings of Buchanan.

His practical treatises are among the least known, but most valuable, of his writings. In depth of religious feeling, and in power of utterance, they are superior to any works of the same kind which appeared in that age. The thoughts are often original, and always expressed in a style of originality, possessing great dignity and strength, without affectation or extravagance.349

The freedoms which have been used in the republication of such of his works as are best known, have contributed to injure his literary reputation. They were translated into the language commonly used in the middle of the seventeenth century, by which they were deprived of the antique costume which they formerly wore, and contracted an air of vulgarity which did not originally belong to them. Besides this, they have been reprinted with innumerable omissions, interpolations, and alterations, which frequently affect the sense, and always enfeeble the language. The two works which have been most read, are the least accurate and polished, in point of style, of all his writings. His tract against female government was hastily published by him, under great irritation of mind at the increasing cruelty of Mary, queen of England. His History of the Reformation was undertaken during the confusions of the civil war, and was afterwards continued by him at intervals snatched from numerous avocations. The collection of historical materials is a work of labour and time; the digesting and arranging of them into a regular narrative require much leisure and undivided attention. The want of these sufficiently accounts for the confusion that is often observable in that work. But notwithstanding this, and particular mistakes from which no work of the kind can be free, it still continues to be the principal source of information as to ecclesiastical proceedings in that period; and although great keenness has been shown in attacking its authenticity and accuracy, it has been confirmed, in all the leading facts, by an examination of those ancient documents which the industry of later times has brought to light.350

His defence of Predestination, the only theological treatise of any extent which was published by him, is rare, and has been seen by few. It is written with perspicuity, and discovers his controversial acuteness, with becoming caution, in handling that delicate question. A catalogue of his publications, as complete as I have been able to draw up, will be found in the notes.351

I have thus attempted to give an account of our national Reformer, of the principal events of his life, his sentiments, writings, and exertions in the cause of religion and liberty. If what I have done shall contribute to set his character in a more just light than that in which it has been generally represented, and to correct the erroneous views of it which have long been prevalent; or if it shall tend to elucidate the ecclesiastical history of the eventful period in which he lived, and be the means of illustrating the superintendence of a wise and merciful Providence, in the accomplishment of a revolution of all others the most interesting and beneficial to this country, I shall not think any labour which I have bestowed on the subject to have been thrown away, or unrewarded.