[166] _State Papers of Henry VIII._, vol. v. p. 560. _A Diurnal of Occurrents_, p. 42. _Calderwood's History of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. i. pp. 221-223. Lindsay of Pitscottie (_Chronicles_, vol. ii. p. 484) relates a circumstance respecting the murder, which is too horrible to mention, and of which it is enough to say, that it consisted of an obscene outrage committed on the corpse of the victim. Though such facts cannot now be published, they are so characteristic of the age, that they ought not to be passed over in complete silence.
The horror with which the Church heard of this foul and barbarous deed,[167] maybe easily imagined. But the conspirators, nothing daunted, and relying on the support of a powerful party, justified their act, seized the castle of Saint Andrews, and prepared to defend it to the last. And in this resolution they were upheld by a most remarkable man, who now first appeared to public view, and who, being admirably suited to the age in which he lived, was destined to become the most conspicuous character of those troublous times.
[167] Respecting which, two Scotch Protestant historians have expressed themselves in the following terms: 'God admonished men, by this judgement, that he will in end be avenged upon tyranns for their crueltie, howsoever they strenthen themselves.' _Calderwood's History of the Kirk of Scotland_, vol. i. p. 224. And, whoever considers all the circumstances, 'must acknowledge it was a stupendous act of the judgment of the Lord, and that the whole was overruled and guided by Divine Providence.' _Stevenson's History of the Church and State of Scotland_, p. 38.
That man was John Knox. To say that he was fearless and incorruptible, that he advocated with unflinching zeal what he believed to be the truth, and that he devoted himself with untiring energy to what he deemed the highest of all objects, is only to render common justice to the many noble attributes which he undoubtedly possessed. But, on the other hand, he was stern, unrelenting, and frequently brutal; he was not only callous to human suffering, but he could turn it into a jest, and employ on it the resources of his coarse, though exuberant, humour;[168] and he loved power so inordinately, that, unable to brook the slightest opposition, he trampled on all who crossed his path, or stood even for a moment in the way of his ulterior designs.