demanded of my {177} conscience to speak the truth; and, therefore, the truth I speak; impugn it who so list." The Queen now felt that a defeat was imminent, and as a last resort, she tried to work on the sympathy of her lords by referring once more, but this time in another fashion, to the fact that Knox had made her weep. That, however, only gave him an opportunity of rehearsing all that had occurred on the occasion to which she had referred, and thereby made his victory the more sure. But what is to be said of her conduct throughout on this trial? "Heard you ever, my lords, a more despiteful and treasonable letter?" "You shall not escape so." "Is it not treason to accuse a prince of cruelty?" "Lo! what say you to all that?" These are a few of her expressions when she was sitting as a judge, and with these, and others already quoted, before us, is it not idle to speak of justice, far less of mannerliness or gentlewomanliness in the case? Ungentlemanliness is bad enough,--though even of that we maintain that there was nothing in Knox's treatment of his queen,--but to seek to overbear a court as Mary did at this time, by the manifestation of her eagerness to have the accused condemned, either by fair means or foul, is infinitely worse. The spirit of Mary here was that of Jeffreys long after. It was indeed far from being so coarsely and brutally expressed, but it is worthy of all reprobation, and in view of the facts which we have here presented, it is little wonder that Hume, in writing to the historian Robertson, should have said, "I am afraid that you, as well as myself, have drawn Mary's character {178} with too great softenings. She was undoubtedly _a violent woman at all times_." But he never altered his representation in his work, and to him, perhaps, more than to all others, the prevalent misconception of our Reformer's character, manner, and motives is to be traced. The result of this trial was announced by Secretary Maitland, when he said to Knox that he was at liberty to return home for that night. But though his voice was smooth, his soul was full of wrath, and Mary's mortification vented itself in taunting the very man who had given her the letter, for voting for the acquittal of him who wrote it. Thus again the Reformer triumphed, and it is with a glow of satisfaction akin to that with which Nehemiah recounts his escape from Sanballat, that he finishes the record thus: "That night was neither dancing nor fiddling in the court, for madame was disappointed of her purpose, which was to have had John Knox in her will, by vote of her nobility." [1] McCrie's "Works," vol. i. pp. 206-8. {179} CHAPTER XII. MINISTRY AT EDINBURGH, 1564-1570.