MARY STUART AND JOHN KNOX.
An interview between the queen and Knox in December, 1562, in which Mr. Froude describes Knox's rudeness as "sound northern courtesy," (vol. vii. p. 543,) is passed over by him with commendable rapidity. And of yet another interview he says not a word.
Under the statute of 1560 proceedings were taken in 1563 against Mary in the west of Scotland for celebrating mass.
The wilds of Ayrshire, in later years the resort of persecuted Presbyterians, were the resort of persecuted Catholics. "On the bleak moorlands or beneath the shelter of some friendly roof," says Mr. Hosack,[180] "they worshipped in secret according to the faith of their fathers." Zealous reformers waited not for form of law to attack and disperse the "idolaters," when they found them thus engaged. Mary remonstrated with Knox against these lawless proceedings, and argued for freedom of worship, or, as Knox himself states it, "no to pitt haunds to punish ony man for using himsel in his religion as he pleases." But the Scotch reformer applauded the outrage, and even asserted that private individuals might even "slay with their own hands idolaters and enemies of the true religion," quoting Scripture to prove his assertions.[181] Shortly afterward forty-eight Catholics were arraigned before the high court of justiciary for celebrating mass, and punished by imprisonment.
At page 384 (vol. vii.) we are told by Mr. Froude that the Protestant mob drove the priest from the altar, (royal chapel,) "with broken head and bloody ears," and at page 418 that "the measure of virtue in the Scotch ministers was the audacity with which they would reproach the queen." "Maitland protested that theirs was not language for subjects to use to their sovereign," and there really appears to be something in the suggestion; but Mr. Froude is of the opinion that "essentially, after all, Knox was right," clinching it, with—"He suspected that Mary Stuart meant mischief to the reformation, and she did mean mischief." And this is the key to Mr. Froude's main argument throughout this history. Whoever and whatever favors the reformation is essentially good, whoever and whatever opposes it is essentially vile. And the end, (the reformation) justifies the means.
Far be it from us to gainsay the perfect propriety of an occasional supply of sacerdotal broken heads and bloody ears, if a Protestant mob sees fit to fancy such an amusement; or to question the measure of virtue in the Scotch ministers; or to approve of the absurd protest of Maitland; or, least of all, not swiftly to recognize that "essentially" Knox was right. Not we indeed! But then we really must be excused for venturing to suggest—merely to suggest, that, in the first place, if we assume such a line of argument, we deprive ourselves of weapons wherewith to assail the cruelties of such men as Alva and Philip of Spain. Surely, the right does not essentially go with the power to persecute! And in the second place—that this was rather rough treatment for a young and inexperienced girl, against whom thus far nothing has been shown. But here Mr. Froude meets us with "Harlot of Babylon," and we are again silenced.
Maitland absurdly hinted to Knox that if he had a grievance he should complain of it modestly, and was very properly hooted at by Knox in reply. And thereupon comes a fine passage from Mr. Froude, admirably exemplifying his psychological treatment of history. (Vol. vii. p. 419.)
"Could she but secure first the object on which her heart was fixed, she could indemnify herself afterward at her leisure. The preachers might rail, the fierce lords might conspire; a little danger gave piquancy to life, and the air-drawn crowns which floated before her imagination would pay for it all."
We do not know how this may affect other people, but "air-drawn crowns" did the business for us, and we proceed to make it the text for A LESSON IN HISTORICAL WRITING.
Mr. Froude may or may not have transferred the contempt and hatred of France of the sixteenth century, which throughout his book he loses no opportunity of manifesting, to France of the nineteenth century; but we venture to suggest to him that he may find in France models and principles of historical treatment which he might study with signal profit. Specially would we commend to his lection and serious perpension the following pithy passage from the very latest published volume of French history. We refer to Lanfrey's Histoire de Napoleon I. The author describes the meeting of Napoleon and Alexander at Tilsit, and, referring to the absurd attempt made by some writers to explain the motives which actuated the French and Russian emperors at their private interview on the Niemen, makes this sensible reflection: