now impossible to determine; but his signature has been found,[3] as notary, to an instrument in the charter-room at Tyninghame, bearing date March 27, 1543, a fact which establishes that up till that time he retained his character as a priest and had the papal authority to act as a notary. With these functions he seems to have combined that of a teacher of youth, for at the time we come upon him in connection with Wishart, he had under his charge some young men of good family in the land.

We have no details concerning his conversion from the Romish to the Protestant faith. According to one authority it was Thomas Guillaume who was "the first to give Mr. Knox a taste of the truth." That eloquent preacher,—a native of East Lothian, who had risen to a high place in the order of the Dominicans,—had through the influence of the party of progress been appointed chaplain to the Regent Arran at the time when that weak ruler was favouring the Reformers. Knox himself has described him as "a man of solid judgment, reasonable letters (as for that age), and of prompt and good utterance; his doctrine was wholesome without great vehemency against superstition." It does not appear, however, from anything he says that he ever came personally into contact with him, though it is possible that some of those clear expositions of Scripture for which Guillaume was so esteemed may have been heard by him, and may have produced a deep impression on his mind. But beyond all question George Wishart was the true spiritual father of John Knox. The preaching and companionship of that earnest man during that journey through the Lothians, which ended in his apprehension at Ormiston, did more for Knox than any other human instrumentality whatever. They wrought conviction in him, and brought him out into decision, so that from the moment when these two men parted from each other for the last time at the church of Haddington, it was no longer possible for Knox to return into the position of comparative obscurity from which he had emerged to become the body-guard of Wishart. He had come prominently out on the side of the Reformation, and the martyrdom of his teacher would only deepen his determination that he should not go back.

But there was no need for him to throw his life away as a gratuitous sacrifice, and therefore, when he was compelled to seek safety from his persecutors by removing from place to place, and out of weariness was minded to go to Germany, he consented, at the earnest solicitations of the parents of his pupils, to find protection in the Castle of St. Andrews. Let it be noted, however, that he did not enter that stronghold until the 10th of April, 1547, that is, more than ten months after Beaton's murder, and therefore he is not to be reckoned among those who had concocted and carried out the assassination of that prelate. He was at that date in too obscure a station to be in any way, even the most remote, associated with those who had committed that foul murder, and he went to St. Andrews simply that he might be able to carry on uninterruptedly the education of his pupils. Accordingly, so soon as he was fairly settled there, he resumed the regular routine of his work with them. What that was he has himself informed us in these words: "Besides their grammar and other humane authors" (that is, authors in what were then called the humanity classes) "he read unto them a catechism, an account whereof he caused them to give publicly in the parish church of St. Andrews. He read moreover unto them the Gospel of John proceeding where he" (had) "left" (off) "at his departing from Longniddry where before his residence was, and that lecture he read in the chapel within the castle at a certain hour." These public exercises attracted to them a large number of those who were then sojourning in the castle, among whom were Henry Balnaves of Halhill, a distinguished jurist, who had been already, and was to be again, one of the judges of the court of session, and John Rough, who was the stated preacher to the congregation within the castle. These men were greatly impressed alike with the matter, the method, and the manner of delivery of the lectures, and seeing his fitness for the work, they earnestly entreated Knox to enter at once upon the office of the ministry. But he declared that "he would not run where God had not called him," and peremptorily refused to accede to their request. Upon this they took counsel with Sir David Lindsay, of the Mount, and others, and ultimately agreed that Rough, without giving any formal warning that he was about to do anything of the kind, should address to Knox a special public call in the name and before the face of the congregation. Accordingly, in the presence of the people, and after having preached a sermon on the election of ministers, Rough turned to Knox and said, "Brother, ye shall not be offended, albeit that I speak unto you that which I have in charge even from all those that are here present, which is this: In the name of God and of His Son Jesus Christ, and in the name of these that presently call you by my mouth, I charge you that ye refuse not this holy vocation, but that, as ye tender the glory of God, the increase of Christ's kingdom, the edification of your brethren, and the comfort of me whom you understand well enough to be oppressed by the multitude of labours, that ye take upon you the public office and charge of preaching even as ye look to avoid God's heavy displeasure, and desire that He shall multiply His graces with you." Then turning to the congregation he said, "Was not this your charge to me?" They answered, "It was, and we approve it." The combined suddenness and solemnity of this appeal completely unmanned Knox. He burst into tears and hastened to his closet, where we may well believe that he sought light from God; and the result Was that he was led to take up that ministry which he laid down only with his life. Not from the impulse of caprice, or because he desired the position of a preacher, but because he could not otherwise meet the responsibility which God had laid upon him, did he enter upon that high and honourable vocation. He was to do a work for his countrymen not unlike that which Moses did for his kinsmen, and so like Moses he was called to it in the full maturity of his powers, and entered upon it with the conviction that God had given him his commission, and he dared not disobey.

Nor did he tarry long before he began to preach, for the call of Providence came almost simultaneously with that of the church. It happened just then that Mr. Rough was engaged in a controversy with a popish dean named Annand. For such a discussion Rough was but poorly furnished, since, as McCrie says, though he was sound in doctrine, his literary acquirements were only moderate. In his emergency he had been much assisted by Knox, who made such good use of the pen that he beat back his adversary from all his defences. As a last resort Annand took refuge in the authority of the Church, upon which Knox at once exclaimed, in the hearing of those who were present at the discussion, that a distinction must be drawn between the true spouse of Christ and the Church of Rome, and offered to prove by word or writing that the Papal Church had degenerated from that of primitive times more than the Jews who crucified the Saviour had fallen from the ordinances of Moses. On hearing this, the people alleged that they could not all read his writings, but could all listen to his preaching, and therefore insisted, in the name of God, that he would let them hear his proof of the assertion which he had made. Such an appeal was not to be resisted, and therefore