ole Protestantism of that day to
be the one gate for the individual into 'God's truth.' Had his Queen
shown anything of this spirit of earnest enquiry, our rough Reformer
might have been precipitate to help her steps, though they should be as
yet on the wrong side of the dividing line. But Mary made no pretences
on the subject, and it was her misfortune, and that of all around, that
her opinion on religion--a matter in which she took no more interest
than was natural to her years--should have been all important to her
subjects. They at least were, or professed to be, in earnest about it;
and the man who in her presence now represented that earnestness made no
pretences either. But we may be sure that Knox's judgment on a 'proud
mind' as to the more central and personal truths of religion, would not
be mitigated by that keen 'wit' which played so freely round its
external parts, and transfixed so easily his own theory of Church and
State. We know from himself that Mary, having found the weak point of
the intolerant legislation, took care to press upon it. She was 'ever
crying conscience, conscience! it is a sore thing to constrain the
conscience;'[108] and she selected for her 'flattering words' the best
of the men around her, till from the question, 'Why may not the Queen
have her own Mass, and the form of her religion? what can that hurt us
or our religion?' there came a formal discussion and a vote of the Lords
that they were not entitled to constrain her. This state of matters
continued during the year 1562. But the real danger, of course, was from
abroad, and Knox had intelligence of all that was going on there. In
December 1562 a victory of the Guises in France had been followed by
dancing at Holyrood; and Knox preached against 'taking pleasure for the
displeasure of God's people.' The Queen sent for him, and suggested his
speaking to herself privately rather than haranguing publicly upon her
domestic proceedings: a proposal which he so promptly rejected that she
at once turned her back on him. It was on this occasion that, hearing
the whisper as he went out, 'He is not afraid,' he replied, with a
'reasonably merry' countenance, 'Wherefore should the pleasing face of a
gentlewoman affray me? I have looked into the faces of many angry men,
and yet have not been affrayed above measure.' But the effect of that
pleasing face upon others around may be measured by a letter written
next day to Cecil by Randolph, who had for