| |
The Scottish Reformation
Chapter II.—The Wishart Period, a. d.
1543—1554.
Section 5. Wishart's Last Labours. 1545—1546 |
Wishart continued his labours in Dundee till the
plague ceased. The date of his departure has not been given, but it was
probably late in the year 1545. "God," he remarked on leaving, "has
almost put an end to the battle in Dundee, I find myself called to
another."
The new battle he alluded to was a public disputation
which he expected soon to maintain with the Romish bishops and doctors
in Edinburgh. A provincial Council was to assemble there, in January,
1546, and "the Gentlemen of the West," including the Earl of Cassilis,
had resolved to appear before the council -and demand a public
disputation between the Romish theologians and Wishart
They had previously written to the Reformer, and obtained his consent
The risks, or rather the certain dangers of such a "battle," to a man
who was under the ban of the church, were indeed obvious; but the
effects of a public discussion could not fail to be beneficial to the
cause of truth. The battle, however, soon proved to be of another kind;
not a public disputation, but a public martyrdom. Every day that such a
man was suffered to live, was a day of new losses to the church, and the
cardinal was on the watch for the first opportunity of seizing his prey.
Before proceeding to Edinburgh, Wishart passed from
Dundee to Montrose,"to salute the Kirk" there. During his stay he
occupied himself sometimes in preaching, but, for the most party "in
meditation, in which he was so earnest, that night and day he would
continue in it" He was, no doubt, preparing himself (or the conflict 6f
argument to which he was looking forward, arranging his plans of attack
and defence, and making ready the weapons of Scripture and learning, by
which he hoped to prevail "While he was thus occupied with his God," a
letter was put into his hand, purporting to come from his most familiar
friend, the Laird of Kinneir, in Fife, and desiring him to come to him
with all possible diligence, "for he was stricken with a sudden
sickness." The messenger brought a horse for his use, which he mounted
without delay, and, accompanied by a few of his friends, he rode out of
the town. But after going a little way, he suddenly stopped short, and
exclaimed, "I will not go; I am forbidden of God; I am sure there is
treason; let some of you go to yonder place," pointing, as he spoke, to
a particular spot near the road, about a mile and a half from the town,
"and tell me what you find." Astonished at his words, his friends moved
forward upon the road to ascertain their truth. They found the treason,
as he had said. An ambush had been laid for him: threescore men, armed
with jacks and spears, were lying in wait to dispatch him. And who was
the author of the treason? Who had forged the letter, and suborned the
assassins? It was the implacable and unscrupulous cardinal. "I know,"
said Wishart, as he turned his horse's head back again to the town; "I
know that I shall finish my life in that bloodthirsty man's hands, but
it will not be after this manner." God had rescued him from the hands of
hired assassins, that his death might take place in circumstances where
the sacrifice would be more honourable to the martyr, and more useful to
the cause of truth.
The time now drew near when he had engaged to meet
the gentlemen of Kyle and Cunningham in the capital, and he prepared to
take leave of his friends in Montrose. The narrow escape which he had
just made alarmed them for his safety in undertaking such a journey, and
John Erskine of Dun, and others, did their utmost to dissuade him from
the design. But he felt bound by his engagement He must go where public
duty calls him, at whatever risk. Christ-like, and with all a martyr's
constancy and courage, "he steadfastly set his face to go up to
Jerusalem."
But the martyr after all is still only a man. He has
his hours of weakness like other men, to remind him that he can only be
strong in the strength of God, and to remind posterity that even an
Elijah and a John the Baptist, though seemingly of more than mortal
mould, are, in truth, only men of like passions and infirmities with
ourselves. On his way to the prison and the stake, George Wishart felt,
for a time, the inward recoil of nature from sufferings so full of
anguish to flesh and blood; and it was only after a struggle with all
the weakness of the man, that he was raised by Divine might to all the
strength of the martyr. This touching incident befel him upon his road
to Edinburgh; at Invergowry, a village two miles west of Dundee.
Spending a night in the house of James Watson, "a faithful brother"
there, it was observed by two of his friends that he passed forth from
his chamber into the garden a little before sunrise ; and there, says
Knox, relating the story as he had it from William Spadin and John
Watson, the two friends referred to, "when he had gone up and down in an
alley for a reasonable space, with many sobs and deep groans, he sunk
down upon his knees, and sitting- thereon his groans increased,,
and from- his knees-he fell upon his face, and then they heard weeping,
and an indigest sound, as it were of prayer, in the which he continued
near an hour, and after began to be quiet; and so arose and came in to
his bed. Then began they to demand, as though, they had been ignorant,
where he had been ; but that night he would answer nothing. Upon the
morrow they urged him again.; 'Maister George/ said they, 'be plain with
us, for we heard your groans ; yea, we heard your bitter mourning, and
saw you both. upon your knees and upon your face/ With dejected visage'
he said,' I had rather you had been in your beds, and it had, been more
profitable to you, for I was scarce weill occupied.' When they pressed
him to let them know some comfort, he said,, ' I will tell you that I am
assured my travail is near an end, and therefore call to God with me,
that now I shrink not when the, battle waxes hot*" These words revealed
the nature of the struggle through which he had passed. But he had left
his weakness at God's feet; he had risen from the 'earth with renovated
strength, like a giant refreshed with wine ; and the interesting
dialogue with his two friends ended with these, remarkable words: "'God
shall send you comfort after me. This realm shall be illuminated with
the light of Christ's Evangel, as clearly as ever was any realm since
the days of the apostles.; The house of God shall be builded in it; yea,
it shall not lack (whatsoever the enemy imagine to the contrary) the
very cope stone. Neither,' continued he, shall this be long delayed.
There shall not many suffer after me, till that the glory of God shall
evidently appear, and shall once for all triumph in despite of Satan.
But alas ! if the people shall afterwards be unthankful, then fearful
and terrible shall the plagues be that shall follow; after it' And with
these words he marched forwards on his* journey towards St Johnston, and
so to Fife, and then to Leith." "He marched forward," says Knox, a man
of kindred spirit, who knew the right word to use upon such an occasion.
It was-the only word that could express the now firm and bounding step
with which the "good soldier of Jesus Christ, enduring hardness," went
forward to meet danger and death at the bidding of the Great Captain.
When he reached Leith he found that his Ayrshire
correspondents had not yet arrived; and being now entirely without
protection, he was willing for a day or two to keep himself secret "But
beginning to wax sorrowful in spirit, and being demanded of the cause,
he said, ' What differ I from a dead man, except that I eat and drink?
To this time God has used my labours to the instruction of others, and
unto the disclosing of darkness; but now I lurk as a man that were
ashamed, and durst not show himself/ By these and like words they that
heard him understood that his desire was to preach, and therefore said,'
Maist comfortable it were unto us to hear you, but because we know the
danger wherein ye stand, we dare not desire you.' 'But dare you and
others hear/ said he, 'and then let my God provide for me as best
pleaseth him/ Finally it was concluded that the next Sunday he should
preach in Leith, which he did, and took for his text the parable of the
sower that went forth to sow."
It was now the 12th of December, and the Regent and
cardinal were expected shortly in Edinburgh to keep Yule, and prepare
for. the coming council. It was not deemed expedient therefore that
Wishart should continue any longer in Leith, and he went in succession
to the houses of Alexander Crichton of Brunston, Hugh Douglas of
Longniddry, and John Cockburn of Ormiston. It was at this time that John
Knox was first introduced to Wishart. He was already "an earnest
professor of Christ Jesus," and' was employed as a tutor in the family
of Hugh Douglas. Sharing warmly in the attachment of his patron to the
Reformer's person and ministry, he waited constantly upon him from the
time of his arrival in Lothian, and obtained the singular honour of
carrying before him, wherever he went, a large two-handed sword.
Wishart had a presentiment that his time was short,
and he filled up every day with godly labours. Before another Sunday
came round the Regent and cardinal had arrived in
Edinburgh; but this did not deter him from preaching on that day, which
was the 18th of December, in the church of Inveresk, where there was a
great gathering to hear him. His discourse was a vehement denunciation
of the idolatrous worship of Rome. Sir George Douglas, brother of the
Earl of Angus, was present, and openly declared at the end of the
service, that he would not only maintain the doctrine he had heard, but
also the person of the teacher to the uttermost of his power. " I know,"
said he, " that my lord governor and my lord cardinal will hear that I
have been at this preaching. Say unto them that I will avow it." As he
spoke these last bold words of defiance, Douglas glared at two grey
friars who had entered the church while Wishart was preaching, and who
were no doubt spies sent by the vigilant cardinal to report to him the
preacher's words.
Still looking for intelligence from the west,
Wishart's next remove was to Longniddry; and on the two following
Sundays he preached at Tranent, "with the like grace and the like
confluence of people. In all his sermons after his departure from Angus,
he forespoke the shortness of the time that he had to travail, and of
his death, the day whereof he said approached nearer than any
would believe."
It was now Christmas-tide, and during the holy-days
of Yule the people were accustomed to resort to the churches daily. To
make the most of such an opportunity, Wishart moved forward to
Haddington, where the largest congregation in that district might be
expected. Knox accompanied him as before, and his narrative of what
passed at Haddington has all the graphic vividness which might be looked
for from an eye and ear-witness; for it is to be remembered that
Wishart's enthusiastic sword-bearer was also his first and only
biographer. "The first day, before noon, the audience in the great
church of the town was reasonably large, and yet nothing in comparison
of that which used to be in that kirk; but the afternoon and the next
day following, before noon, the auditure was so slender
that many wondered. The cause was judged to have been that the Earl of
Bothwell, who in those bounds had great credit and obedience, by
procurement of the cardinal had given inhibition, as well to the town as
to the country, that they should not hear him under the pain of his
displeasure. The first night he lay within the town, in the house of
David Forres, a man that long had professed the truth. The second night
he lay in Lethington, the laird whereof—Sir Richard Maitland —was ever
civil, albeit not persuaded in religion. The day following, before the
said Maister George passed to the sermon, there came to him a boy with a
letter from the West land, which received and read, he called for John
Knox, with whom he began to enter in purpose, that he wearied of the
world, for he perceived that men began to weary of God. The cause of his
complaint was, the gentlemen of the west had written to him that they
could not keep diet at Edinburgh. The said John Knox, wondering that he
desired to keep any purpose (i e. hold any conversation) before
sermon, (for that was never his accustomed use before) said, ' Sir, the
time of sermon approaches; I will leave you for the present to your
meditation/ and so took the bill containing the purpose aforesaid, and
left him.
"The said Maister George spaced up and down behind
the high altar more than half an hour. His very countenance and visage
declared the grief and alteration of his mind. At last he passed to the
pulpit, but the auditure was small. He should have begun to have
entreated the second table of the law. But thereof in that sermon he
spake very little, but began on this manner; 'O Lord, how long shall it
be that thy holy word shall be despised, and men shall not regard their
own salvation. I have heard of thee, Haddington, that in thee would have
been at a vain clerk-play two or three thousand people; and now
to hear the messenger of the eternal God of all thy town
and parish cannot be numbered a hundred persons. Sore and fearful shall
the plague be that shall ensue this thy contempt. With fire and sword
thou shalt be plagued. Yea ! thou Haddington in special, strangers shall
possess thee, and you, the present inhabitants, shall either in bondage
serve your enemies, or else ye shall be chased from your own
habitations, and that because ye have not known, nor will not know, the
time of God's merciful visitatioa* In such vehemency and threatening
continued that servant of God near an hour and a half, in the which he
declared all the plagues that ensued, as plainly as after our eyes saw
them performed. In the end, he said,' I have forgotten myself and the
matter that I should have entreated ; but let these my last words, as
concerning public preaching, remain in your minds till that God send you
new comfort/ Thereafter he made a short paraphrase upon the second
table, with an exhortation to patience, to the fear of God, and unto the
works of mercy; and so put end, as it were making his last testament; as
the issue declared that the spirit of truth and of true judgment was
both in his heart and head; for that same night was he apprehended
before midnight in the house of Ormiston."
John Knox, it will be observed, regarded these
predictions of Wishart as true and proper prophecies. Tytler and others
explain them on the unsupported assumption that Wishart was privy to the
hostile plans of England, through Brunston and others who were in
correspondence with Henry's officers; an explanation which implies the
offensive imputation that, while he assumed the air and tone of a
prophet, he was availing himself of the secrets of a treasonable
correspondence. For ourselves, we utterly disbelieve that such a man as
Wishart was capable of practising upon the people such a dishonourable
deception; or that such a man as Knox was capable, in his history, of
abetting and carrying on the delusion. But we do not think it necessary
to adopt the view of Knox, any more than we can concur for a moment in
the unworthy imputations of Tytler. There was entire earnestness and
good faith in Wishart's predictions, but they can be sufficiently
accounted for without referring them to supernatural foresight The
language of such predictions as those of Wishart and of Knox himself, is
no more than the vivid and graphic utterance of a strong and earnest
faith in the presence and providence of God as a ruler among men. "Shall
not the judge of all the earth do right?" was, with them, a truth as
real and a fact as certain, as the truth and the fact that earthly
governments are bound, and have the right and power, to execute just
judgment upon transgressors. Will God let sin go unpunished, either in
individuals, or churches, or political communities, even in this world?
No! He will not; He cannot As God liveth, the wickedness of a corrupt,
and cruel, and oppressive Church shall assuredly be brought to nought
The carelessness and unbelief of any city or people that despiseth the
word and the salvation of God shall assuredly be punished, as God liveth.
The punishment is as certain as God's own being. It may be still future
; but it is as sure to come as if it were actually present In the sense
of a faith in God like this, a faith in things unseen which makes them
as real as the things of sight, every true minister of God's word is a
prophet and a seer, and not only sees what is coming, but foreshows and
foretells it And the only difference between prophet-preachers like
Wishart and Knox, and the more ordinary homilists of our own time, is,
that their faith in God and his moral government was a great deal
stronger and more realizing than that of their successors. They believed
as though they beheld, and therefore they both foresaw clearly and
foretold distinctly; we believe much less strongly and vividly, and
therefore, though the sons of the prophets, and proud of our descent, we
have much less of the prophetic spirit ourselves. |
|