John Knox | Page 2

a notary
and a priest. 'Sir John Knox' he was called by others, that being the
style by which secular priests were known, unless they had taken not
only the bachelor's but also the master's degree at the University.[2]
Knox in after years never alluded to his priesthood, though his
adversaries did; but so late as 27th March 1543 he describes himself in
a notarial deed in his own handwriting as 'John Knox, minister of the
sacred altar, of the Diocese of St Andrews, notary by Apostolical
authority.' Apostolical means Papal, the notarial authority being
transmitted through the St Andrews Archbishop; and Knox at this time
does not shrink from dating his notarial act as in such a year 'of the

pontificate of our most holy Father and Lord in Christ, the Lord Paul,
Pope by the Providence of God.' Only three years later, in 1546, he was
carrying a two-handed sword before Wishart, then in danger of arrest
and condemnation to the stake at the hands of the same Archbishop
Beaton under whom Knox held his orders. And in the following year,
1547, Knox is standing in the Church of St Andrews, and denouncing
the Pope (not as an individual, though the Pope of that day was a
Borgia, but) as the official head of an Anti-Christian system.
This early blank in the biography raises questions, some of which will
never be answered. We do not know at all when Knox took priest's
orders. It was almost certainly not before 1530, for it was only in that
year that he became eligible as being twenty-five years old. It may
possibly have been as late as 1540, when his name is first found in a
deed. In that and the two following years he seems to have resided at
Samuelston near Haddington, and may have officiated in the little
chapel there. But he was also at this time acting as 'Maister' or tutor to
the sons of several gentlemen of East Lothian, and he continued this
down to 1547, the time of his own 'call' to preach the Evangel. Nor do
we know whether the change in his views, which in 1547 was so
complete, had been sudden on the one hand or gradual and long
prepared on the other. Knox's own silence on this is very remarkable. A
man of his fearless egoism and honesty might have been expected to
leave, if not an autobiography like those of Augustine and Bunyan, at
least a narrative of change like the Force of Truth of Thomas Scott, or
the Apologia of John Henry Newman. He has not done so; indeed, the
author who preserved for us so much of that age, and of his own later
history in it, seems for some reason to have judged his whole earlier
period unworthy of record--or even of recal. For we find no evidence of
his having been more confidential on this subject with any of his
contemporaries than he has been with us. This certainly suggests that
the change may have been very recent--determined, perhaps, wholly
through the personal influence of Wishart, whom Knox so
affectionately commemorates. Or, if it was not recent, it is extremely
unlikely that it can have been detailed, vivid, and striking, as well as
prolonged. Knox was not the man to suppress a narrative, however
painful to himself, which he could have held to be in a marked degree

to the glory of God or for the good of men. But whatever the reason
was, the time past of his life sufficed this man for silence and
self-accusation. We may be sure that it would have done so (and
perhaps done so equally), no matter whether those twenty years had
been spent in the complacent routine of a rustic in holy orders; in the
dogmatism, defensive or aggressive, of scholastic youth; in fruitless
efforts to understand the new views of which he was one day to be the
chief representative; or in half-hearted hesitation whether, after having
so far understood them, he could part with all things for their sake.
Which of these positions he held, or how far he may have passed from
one to another, we may never be able to ascertain. But there is one too
clear indication that Knox disliked, not only to record, but even to recal,
his life in the Catholic communion. His greatest defect in after years, as
a man and a writer, is his inability to sympathise with those still found
entangled in that old life. He absolutely refuses to put himself in their
place, or to imagine how a position which was for so many years his
own could be honestly chosen, or even honestly retained for a day, by
another. This would have been a misfortune, and a moral defect,