In Scotland, too, Mary's party, beginning to see the hopelessness of the cause, was gradually dwindling away. Through Mar's exertions, a general peace might have been obtained, had not Morton's superior influence and persevering cruelty drawn out the civil war to the last dregs. Mar, finding himself thwarted in every measure he proposed for the tranquillity of his country, fell into a deep melancholy, which ended in his death, before he had been a year in office. Morton succeeded him without opposition, and immediately proceeded to very violent measures against all the Queen's friends, who were now divided into two parties, the one headed by Chatelherault and Huntly, and the other by Maitland and Grange. After gaining some advantages over both, he concluded a peace with the former; and having invested the Castle of Edinburgh on all sides, in conjunction with some troops which Elizabeth sent to his assistance, he at length forced the latter to surrender. Kircaldy of Grange, the bravest and most honest man in Scotland, was hanged at the Cross of Edinburgh; and Secretary Maitland, who, with all his talents, had vacillated too much to be greatly respected, anticipating a similar fate, avoided it by a voluntary death, "ending his days," says Melville, "after the old Roman fashion." About the same time, John Knox concluded his laborious, and, in many respects, useful life, in the 67th year of his age. Appearing as he did, in treacherous and turbulent times, the rough unpolished integrity of Knox demands the higher praise, because it enabled him the more successfully to maintain an influence over the minds of his countrymen, and effect those important revolutions in their modes of thought and belief, which his superior abilities pointed out to him as conducive to the moral and religious improvement of the land. He had many failings, but they were to be attributed more to the age to which he belonged, than to any fault of his own. His very violence and acrimony, his strong prejudices, and no less confirmed partialities, were perhaps the very best instruments he could have used for advancing the cause of the Reformation. He was without the cunning of Murray, the fickleness of Maitland, or the ferocity of Morton. He pursued a steady and undeviating course; and though loved by few, he was reverenced by many. Courage, in particular,--and not the mere common-place courage inspired by the possession of physical strength, but the far nobler courage arising from a consciousness of innate integrity,--was the leading feature of his mind. Morton never spoke more truly than when he said at the grave of Knox,--"Here lies he who never feared the face of man."