Biographia Scoticana (Scots Worthies) Part 4

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 a.s.sembling their armies: our master calleth upon his own, and that with vehemency, that they may depart from Babylon, yea he threateneth death and d.a.m.nation 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 n.o.bility 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 a.s.sist them; which enraged the mult.i.tude 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 mult.i.tudes from the neighbouring country were a.s.sembling 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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 superst.i.tious 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, &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 a.s.sembled 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, "G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 n.o.bility (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 n.o.bility, 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 ma.s.s 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 G.o.d 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 overpa.s.s, do they any wrong, or will G.o.d be offended with them for hindering their father from committing horrible murder?--Even so, madam, if princes will murder the children of G.o.d 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 G.o.d." 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 G.o.d set in that room boys and women; and that G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 a.s.sociates 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 a.s.sa.s.sin 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 G.o.d 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 a.s.sured 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 G.o.d whether she would or not; which came to pa.s.s 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-gla.s.s;" 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 G.o.d," (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 n.o.bleman, (meaning the regent) shewing, that G.o.d 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 a.s.sist 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 ma.s.sacre 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, 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, G.o.d 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 G.o.d'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 G.o.d knoweth, that, in my heart, I never hated the persons of those against whom I thundered G.o.d'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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d from above bless you and the church whereof you have the charge, against which the gates of h.e.l.l shall not prevail." Then by prayer he recommended the whole company present to the grace of G.o.d, 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 G.o.d, and understand far better."

One day after this, Mr. David Lindsay coming to see him, he said unto him "Well, brother, I thank G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d (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 G.o.d hath a.s.sured 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 G.o.d anent that man, I am sorry that it should so befal his body, yet G.o.d a.s.sureth 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 a.s.surance of G.o.d's mercy to my soul, according to the speech of that man of G.o.d." 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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, G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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, G.o.d 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 G.o.d;" 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 G.o.d, despised in the world, but precious in his fight.

I have called to G.o.d for her, and commended her to Christ her head: I have been fighting against Satan, who is ever ready for the a.s.sault; 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.dly 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 a.s.saulted by Satan, and many times he hath cast my sins in my teeth, to bring me to despair; yet G.o.d 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 G.o.d, that he hath brought to my mind that scripture, _What hast thou that thou hast not received_, and _not I, but the grace of G.o.d 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 s.p.a.ce 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 G.o.d that you and all men had heard it as I have done; I praise G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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, finis.h.i.+ng 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.

He was buried in the church-yard of St. Giles (now that square called the parliament closs), upon Wednesday the 26th of November. His funeral was attended by the earl of Morton regent, other lords, and a great mult.i.tude of people of all ranks. When he was laid in the grave, the earl of Morton said, "There lies a man, who, in his life, never feared the face of man: who hath been often threatened with dag and dagger, but hath ended his days in peace and honour."

He was low in stature and of a weakly const.i.tution, which made Mr.

Thomas Smeaton, one of his contemporaries, say, "I know not if ever G.o.d placed a more G.o.dly and great spirit in a body so little and frail. I am certain, that there can scarcely be found another, in whom more gifts of the Holy Ghost for the comfort of the church of Scotland, did s.h.i.+ne. No one spared himself less, no one more diligent in the charge committed to him, and yet no one was more the object of the hatred of wicked men, and more vexed with the reproach of evil speakers; but this was so far from abating, that it rather strengthened his courage and resolution in the ways of G.o.d." Beza calls him the great apostle of the Scots. His faithfulness in reproving sin, in a manner that shewed he was not to be awed by the fear of man, made up the most remarkable part of his character, and the success wherewith the Lord blessed his labours, was very singular, and is enough to stop the mouth of every enemy against him.

His works are, an admonition to England; an application to the Scots n.o.bility, &c.; a letter to Mary the queen-regent, a history of the reformation; a treatise on predestination, the first and second blast of the trumpet; a sermon preached August 1565, on account of which he was for some time prohibited from preaching. He left also sundry ma.n.u.scripts, sermons, tracts, &c. which have never been printed.

_The Life of Mr. GEORGE BUCHANAN._

George Buchanan was born in Lennoxs.h.i.+re (commonly called the sheriffdom of Dumbarton), in Scotland, in a country town, situated near the river or water of Blane[35], in the year of our Lord 1506, about the beginning of February, of a family rather ancient than rich. His father died of the stone, in the flower of his age, whilst his grandfather was yet alive, by whose extravagance, the family, which was below before, was now almost reduced to the extremity of want. Yet such was the frugal care of his mother Agnes Herriot, that she brought up five sons and three daughters to men's and women's estate. Of the five sons, George was one. His uncle, James Herriot, perceiving his promising ingenuity in their own country schools, took him from thence, and sent him to Paris.

There he applied himself to his studies, and especially to poetry; having partly a natural genius that way, and partly out of necessity, (because it was the only method of study propounded to him in his youth). Before he had been there two years, his uncle died, and he himself fell dangerously sick; and being in extreme want, was forced to go home to his friends. After his return to Scotland, he spent almost a year in taking care of his health; then he went into the army, with some French auxiliaries, newly arrived in Scotland, to learn the military art: But that expedition proving fruitless, and those forces being reduced by the deep snow of a very severe winter, he relapsed into such an illness as confined him all that season to his bed. Early in the spring he was sent to St. Andrews, to hear the lectures of John Major, who, though very old, read logic, or rather sophistry, in that university. The summer after, he accompanied him into France; and there he fell into the troubles of the Lutheran sect, which then began to increase. He struggled with the difficulties of fortune almost two years, and at last was admitted into the Barbaran college, where he was grammar professor almost three years. During that time, Gilbert Kennedy, earl of Ca.s.sils, one of the young Scottish n.o.bles, being in that country, was much taken with his ingenuity and acquaintance; so that he entertained him for five years, and brought him back with him into Scotland.

Afterwards, having a mind to return to Paris to his old studies, he was detained by the king, and made tutor to James his natural son. In the mean time, an elegy made by him, at leisure times, came into the hands of the Franciscans; wherein he writes, that he was solicited in a dream by St. Francis, to enter into his order. In this poem there were one or two pa.s.sages that reflected on them very severely; which those ghostly fathers, notwithstanding their profession of meekness and humility, took more heinously, than men (having obtained such a vogue for piety among the vulgar) ought to have done, upon so small an occasion of offence.

But finding no just grounds for their unbounded fury, they attacked him upon the score of religion; which was their common way of terrifying those they did not wish well to. Thus, whilst they indulged their impotent malice, they made him, who was not well affected to them before, a greater enemy to their licentiousness, and rendered him more inclinable to the Lutheran cause. In the mean time, the king, with Magdalen his wife, came from France, not without the resentment of the priesthood; who were afraid that the royal lady, having been bred up under her aunt the queen of Navarre, should attempt some innovation in religion. But this fear soon vanished upon her death, which followed shortly after.

Next, there arose jealousies at court about some of the n.o.bility, who were thought to have conspired against the king; and, in that matter, the king being persuaded the Franciscans dealt insincerely, he commanded Buchanan, who was then at court, (though he was ignorant of the disgusts betwixt him and that order), to write a satyr upon them. He was loath to offend either of them, and therefore, though he made a poem, yet it was but short, and such as might admit of a doubtful interpretation, wherein he satisfied neither party; not the king, who would have had a sharp and stinging invective; nor the fathers neither, who looked on it as a capital offence, to have any thing said of them but what was honourable.

So that receiving a second command to write more pungently against them, he began that miscellany, which now bears the t.i.tle of The Franciscan, and gave it to the king. But shortly after, being made acquainted by his friends at court, that cardinal Beaton sought his life, and had offered the king a sum of money as a price for his head, he escaped out of prison, and fled for England[36]. But there also things were at such an uncertainty, that the very same day, and almost with one and the same fire, the men of both factions (protestants and papists) were burnt; Henry VIII. in his old age, being more intent on his own security, than the purity or reformation of religion. This uncertainty of affairs in England, seconded by his ancient acquaintance with the French, and the courtesy natural to them, drew him again into that kingdom.

As soon as he came to Paris, he found cardinal Beaton, his utter enemy, amba.s.sador there; so that, to withdraw himself from his fury, at the invitation of Andrew Govean, he went to Bourdeaux.----There he taught three years in the schools, which were erected at the public cost. In that time he composed four tragedies, which were afterwards occasionally published. But that which he wrote first, called The Baptist, was printed last, and next the Medea of Euripides. He wrote them in compliance with the custom of the school, which was to have a play written once a-year, that the acting of them might wean the French youth from allegories, to which they had taken a false taste, and bring them back, as much as possible, to a just imitation of the ancients. This affair succeeding even almost beyond his hopes, he took more pains in compiling the other two tragedies, called Jephtha and Alcestes, because he thought they would fall under a severer scrutiny of the learned. And yet, during this time, he was not wholly free from trouble, being hara.s.sed with the menaces of the cardinal on the one side, and of the Franciscans on the other: For the cardinal had wrote letters to the arch-bishop of Bourdeaux, to apprehend him; but, providentially, those letters fell into the hands of Buchanan's best friends. However, the death of the king of Scots, and the plague, which then raged over all Aquitain, dispelled that fear.

In the interim, an express came to Govean from the king of Portugal, commanding him to return, and bring with him some men, learned both in the Greek and Latin tongues, that they might read the liberal arts, and especially the principles of the Aristotelian philosophy, in those schools which he was then building with a great deal of care and expence. Buchanan, being addressed to, readily contented to go for one.

For, whereas he saw that all Europe besides, was either actually in foreign or domestic wars, or just upon the point of being so, that one corner of the world was, in his opinion, likeliest to be free from tumults and combustions; and besides his companions in that journey were such, that they seemed rather his acquaintances and familiar friends, than strangers or aliens to him: for many of them had been his intimates for several years, and are well known to the world by their learned works, as Micholaus Gruchius, Gulielmus Garentaeus, Jacobus Tevius, and Elias Vinetus. This was the reason that he did not only make one of their society, but also persuaded a brother of his, called Patrick, to do the same. And truly the matter succeeded excellently well at first, till, in the midst of the enterprize, Andrew Govean was taken away by a sudden death, which proved mighty prejudicial to his companions: For, after his decease, all their enemies endeavoured first to ensnare them by treachery, and soon after ran violently upon them as it were with open mouth; and their agents and instruments being great enemies to the accused, they laid hold of three of them, and haled them to prison; whence, after a long and lothsome confinement, they were called out to give in their answers, and, after many bitter taunts, were remanded to prison again; and yet no accuser did appear in court against them. As for Buchanan, they insulted most bitterly over him, as being a stranger, and knowing also, that he had very few friends in that country, who would either rejoice in his prosperity, sympathize with his grief, or revenge the wrongs offered to him. The crime laid to his charge, was the poem he wrote against the Franciscans; which he himself, before he went from France, took care to get excused to the king of Portugal; neither did his accusers perfectly know what it was, for he had given but one copy of it to the king of Scots, by whose command he wrote it. They farther objected "his eating of flesh in Lent;" though there is not a man in all Spain but uses the same liberty. Besides, he had given some sly side blows to the monks, which, however, n.o.body but a monk himself could well except against.

Moreover, they took it heinously ill, that, in a certain familiar discourse with some young Portuguese gentlemen, upon mention made of the Eucharist, he should affirm, that, in his judgment, Austin was more inclinable to the party condemned by the church of Rome. Two other witnesses (as some years after it came to his knowledge), _viz._ John Tolpin, a Norman, and John Ferrerius of Sub alpine Liguria, had witnessed against him, that they had heard from divers creditable persons, "That Buchanan was not orthodox as to the Roman faith and religion."

But to return to the matter; after the inquisitors had wearied both themselves and him for almost half a year, at last, that they might not seem to have causelesly vexed a man of some name and note in the world, they shut him up in a monastery for some months, there to be more exactly disciplined and instructed by the monks, who (to give them their due), though very ignorant in all matters of religion, were men otherwise neither bad in their morals, nor rude in their behaviour.

This was the time he took to form the princ.i.p.al part of David's psalms into Latin verse. At last he was set at liberty; and sueing for a pa.s.s, and accommodations from the crown, to return into France, the king desired him to stay where he was, and allotted him a little sum for daily necessaries and pocket expences, till some better provision might be made for his subsistence. But he, tired out with delay, as being put off to no certain time, nor on any sure grounds of hope; and having got the opportunity of a pa.s.sage in a s.h.i.+p then riding in the bay of Lisbon, was carried over into England. He made no long stay in that country, though fair offers were made him there; for he saw that all things were in a hurry and combustion, under a very young king; the n.o.bles at variance one with another, and the minds of the commons yet in a ferment, upon the account of their civil combustions. Whereupon he returned into France, about the time that the siege of Metz was raised.

There he was in a manner compelled by his friends to write a poem concerning that siege; which he did, though somewhat unwillingly, because he was loth to interfere with several of his acquaintances, and especially with Mellinus Sangelasius, who had composed a learned and elegant poem on that subject. From thence he was called over into Italy, by Charles de Cosse of Brescia, who then managed matters with very good success in the Gallic and Ligustic countries about the Po. He lived with him and his son Timoleon, sometimes in Italy, and sometimes in France, the s.p.a.ce of five years, till the year 1560; the greatest part of which time he spent in the study of the holy scriptures, that so he might be able to make a more exact judgment of the controversies in religion, which employed the thoughts, and took up all the time of most of the men of these days. It is true, these disputes were silenced a little in Scotland, when that kingdom was freed from the tyranny of the Guises of France; so he returned thither, and became a member of the church of Scotland, 1560[37].

Some of his writings, in former times, being, as it were, redeemed from s.h.i.+pwreck, were by him collected and published: the rest, which were scattered up and down in the hands of his friends, he committed to the disposal of providence[38]. After his return, he professed philosophy in St. Andrews, and in the year 1565, he was appointed tutor to James VI.

king of Scotland; and in 1568, went with the regent to the court of England, at which time and place he did no small honour to his country.

Sir James Melvil, in his memoirs, page 234, gives him the following character.--"He was a Stoic philosopher, who looked not far before him; too easy in his old age; somewhat revengeful against those who had offended him:" But notwithstanding, "a man of notable endowments, great learning, and an excellent Latin poet; he was much honoured in foreign countries; pleasant in conversation, into which he happily introduced short moral maxims, which his invention readily supplied him with upon any emergency. He was buried at Edinburgh in the common place, though worthy to have been laid in marble, as in his life pompous monuments he used to contemn and despise."

_The Life of Mr. ROBERT ROLLOCK._

Mr. Rollock was descended from the antient family of the Livingstons. He was born about the year 1555. His father, David Rollock, sent him to Stirling to be educated for the university under Thomas Buchanan, where his genius, modesty and sweetness of temper soon procured to him the particular friends.h.i.+p of his master, which subsisted ever after. From this school, he went to the university of St Andrews, where he prosecuted his studies for four years; at the end of which, his progress had been so great, that he was chosen professor of philosophy, the duties of which office he discharged with applause for other four years, until, about the year 1583, he was invited, by the magistrates of Edinburgh, to a profession in their university, which was, not long before this time, founded by K. James VI. He complied with their invitation, at the earnest desire of Mr James Lawson, who succeeded Mr Knox. His reputation, as a teacher, soon drew a number of students to that college, which was soon afterwards much enlarged, by being so conveniently situated in the capital of the kingdom. At first he had the princ.i.p.al weight of academical business laid upon him, but in process of time, other professors were chosen from among the scholars which he educated. After which, his chief employment was to exercise the office of princ.i.p.al, by superintending the several cla.s.ses, to observe the proficiency of the scholars, to compose such differences as would arise among them, and to keep every one to his duty. Thus was the princ.i.p.ality of that college, in his time, a useful inst.i.tution, and not what it is now, little better than a mere sine-cure.--Every morning, he called the students together, when he prayed among them, and one day in the week, he explained some pa.s.sage of scripture to them, in the close of which, he was frequently very warm in his exhortations, which wrought more reformation upon the students, than all the laws which were made, or discipline which was exercised besides. After the lecture was over, it was his custom to reprove such as had been guilty of any misdemeanour through the week. _How is the gold become dim! how is the most fine gold changed!_ He was likewise very attentive to such as were advanced in their studies, and intended the ministry. His care was productive of much good to the church. He was as diligent in his own studies, as he was careful to promote those of others.--Notwithstanding all this business in the university, he preached every Lord's day in the church, with such fervency and demonstration of the Spirit, that he became the instrument of converting many to G.o.d. About this time he also wrote several commentaries on different pa.s.sages of scripture. His exposition of the epistles to the Romans and Ephesians, coming into the hands of the learned Beza, he wrote to a friend of his, telling him, That he had an incomparable treasure, which for its judiciousness, brevity and elegance of style had few equals.

He was chosen moderator to the a.s.sembly held at Dundee, _anno_ 1567, wherein matters went not altogether in favours of Presbytery; but this cannot be imputed to him, although Calderwood in his history, page 403.

calls him "a man simple in matters of the church," He was one of those commissioned by the a.s.sembly to wait on his majesty about seating the churches of Edinburgh, but in the mean time he sickened, and was confined to his house. Afterwards, at the entreaty of his friends, he went to the country for the benefit of the air; at first he seemed as if growing better, but his distemper soon returned upon him with greater violence than before: This confined him to his bed. He committed his wife (for he had no children) to the care of his friends. He desired two n.o.blemen, who came to visit him, to go to the king, and intreat him in his name to take care of religion and preserve it to the end, and that he would esteem and comfort the pastors of the church; for the ministry of Christ, though low and base in the eyes of men, yet it should at length s.h.i.+ne with great glory. When the ministers of Edinburgh came to him, he spoke of the sincerity of his intentions in every thing done by him, in discharge of the duties belonging to the office with which he had been vested. As night drew on, his distemper increased, and together therewith his religious fervor was likewise augmented. When the physicians were preparing some medicines, he said, "Thou, Lord, wilt heal me;" and then began, praying for the pardon of his sins through Christ, and professed that he counted all things but dung for the cross of Christ. He prayed farther, that he might have the presence of G.o.d in his departure, saying, "Hitherto have I seen thee darkly, through the gla.s.s of thy word: O Lord, grant that I may have the eternal enjoyment of thy countenance, which I have so much desired and longed for;" and then spoke of the resurrection and eternal life, after which he blessed and exhorted every one present according as their respective circ.u.mstances required.