Knox was not to be deterred from doing what he considered to be his duty. He persisted in warning his hearers to avoid all participation with those who prevented the punishment of atrocious crimes, by supporting the pretensions of the queen, and who exposed the reformed religion to the utmost hazard, by opposing the king’s authority. When the General Assembly met in March, 1571, anonymous libels were thrown into the house where they were sitting, and placards affixed to the church‑doors, accusing him of seditious railing against their sovereign, the queen, refusing to pray for her welfare and conversion, representing her as a reprobate whose repentance was hopeless, and uttering imprecations against her. One of the placards concluded with a threat, that, if {184} the assembly did not restrain him by their authority from using such language, the complainers would themselves apply a remedy to the evil “with greater unquietness.” The assembly having, by public intimation, required the complainers to come forward and substantiate their charges, another anonymous writing appeared, promising that accusers should not be wanting against next assembly, if the preacher continued his offensive speeches, and was “then law‑byding, and not fugitive, according to his accustomed manner.” Several of his friends dealt with him to pass over these unauthenticated libels in silence, but he refused to comply with this advice, considering that the credit of his ministry was implicated. Accordingly, he produced them in the pulpit, and returned a particular answer to the accusations which they contained. That he had charged the late queen with the crimes of which she had been notoriously guilty, he granted,――that he had railed against her, he denied; nor would they be able to substantiate this charge against him, without at the same time proving Isaiah, Jeremiah, and other inspired writers, to have been railers. “From them he had learned plainly and boldly to call wickedness by its own terms, a fig, a fig, and a spade, a spade.” He had never called the queen reprobate, nor said that her repentance was impossible; but he had affirmed that pride and repentance could not remain long together in one heart. He had prayed, that God, for the comfort of his church, would oppose his power to her pride, and confound her and {185} her assistants in their impiety: this prayer, let them call it imprecation or execration as they pleased, had stricken, and would yet strike, whoever supported her. To the charge of not praying for the queen, he answered, “I am not bound to pray for her in this place, for sovereign to me she is not; and I let them understand that I am not a man of law that has my tongue to sell for silver, or favour of the world.”[230] What title she now had, or ever had to the government, he would not dispute; the estates had deprived her of it, and it belonged to them to answer for this: as for him,