he had overawed during his residence among them, the Reformer left
St Andrews, along with his family. He was accompanied so far on his
journey by the principal persons of his acquaintance in the town,
who sorrowfully took their leave of him, in the prospect of seeing
his face no more. Being obliged by his weakness to travel slowly, it
was the 23d of the month before he reached Leith, from which, after
resting a day or two, he came to Edinburgh. The inhabitants enjoyed
the satisfaction of seeing him again in his own pulpit, on the first
Sabbath after he arrived; but his voice was now so enfeebled that he
could not be heard by the half of the congregation. Nobody was more
sensible of this than himself. He therefore requested his session to
provide a smaller house, in which he could be heard, if it were only
by a hundred persons; for his voice, {213} he said, was not able, even
in his best time, to extend over the multitude which assembled in that
large church, much less now when he was so greatly debilitated. This
request was readily complied with by the session.[280]
During his absence, a coolness had taken place between his colleague
and the parish, who found fault with him for temporizing during
the time that the queen’s party retained possession of the city. In
consequence of this, they had mutually agreed to separate.[281] After
preaching two years in Montrose, Craig removed to Aberdeen, where he
acted as visitor of the churches in Buchan and Mar; and was afterwards
chosen minister to the royal household, a situation which he held
until his death in 1600, at the advanced age of eighty‑eight.[282]
Being deprived of both their pastors, and having no prospect that Knox,
although he should return, would be capable of performing the public
service among them, the kirk‑session of Edinburgh had instructed their
delegates to the General Assembly lately held at Perth, to petition
that court for liberty to choose from the ministry a colleague
to the Reformer. The Assembly granted their request, and ordained
any minister (those of Perth and Dundee excepted) who might be
{214} chosen by Knox, the superintendent of Lothian, and the church
of Edinburgh, to comply with their invitation, and remove to the
capital.[283] When the commissioners came to St Andrews, they found
the superintendent along with Knox, and having consulted with them,
it was agreed to nominate and recommend James Lawson, sub‑principal
of the university of Aberdeen, a man eminent for his piety, learning,
and eloquence.[284] Perceiving, on his return to Edinburgh, that he
could not long be able to endure the fatigue of preaching, and that he
was already incapacitated for all other ministerial duties, Knox was
extremely solicitous to have this business speedily settled, lest the
congregation should be left “as sheep without a shepherd,” when he was
called away. The session and the superintendent having sent letters
of invitation to Lawson, the Reformer wrote him at the same time,
urging his speedy compliance with their requests. This letter is very
descriptive of the state of his mind at this interesting period.
“All worldlie strenth, yea ewin in thingis spirituall, decayes; and
yet sall never the work of God decay. Belovit brother, seeing that God
of his mercie, far above my expectatione, has callit me ones againe to
Edinburgh, and yet that I feill nature so {215} decayed, and daylie to
decay, that I luke not for a long continewance of my battell, I wald
gladlie anes discharge my conscience into your bosome, and into the
bosome of utheris, in whome I think the feare of God remanes. Gif I
hath had the habilitie of bodie, I suld not have put you to the pane
to the whilk I now requyre you, that is, anes to visite me, that we
may conferre together of heawinlie thingis; for into earth there is
no stability, except the kirk of Jesus Christ, ever fightand vnder
the crosse, to whose myghtie protectione I hartlie comitt you. Of
Edinburgh the vii of September, 1572. Jhone Knox.
“Haist, leist ye come too lait.”[285]
In the beginning of September, intelligence reached Edinburgh, that
the admiral of France, the brave, the generous, the pious Coligni,
was murdered in the city of Paris, by the orders of Charles IX.
Immediately on the back of this, tidings arrived of that most
detestable and unparalleled scene of barbarity and treachery, the
general massacre of the protestants throughout that kingdom. Post
after post brought fresh accounts of the most shocking and unheard‑of
cruelties. Hired cut‑throats and fanatical cannibals marched from city
to city, paraded the streets, and entered into the houses of those
that were marked out for destruction. No reverence was shown to the
hoary head, no respect to rank or talents, no pity to tender age or
sex. Infants, aged matrons, and women {216} upon the point of their
delivery, were trodden under the feet of the assassins, or dragged
with hooks into the rivers; others, after being thrown into prison,
were instantly brought out and butchered in cold blood. Seventy
thousand persons were murdered in one week. For several days, the
streets of Paris literally ran with blood. The savage monarch,
standing at the windows of the palace, with his courtiers, glutted
his eyes with the inhuman spectacle, and amused himself with firing
upon the miserable fugitives who sought shelter at his merciless
gates.[286]
The intelligence of this massacre (for which a solemn thanksgiving
was offered up at Rome by order of the pope[287]) produced the same
horror and consternation in Scotland as in every other protestant
country.[288] It inflicted a deep wound on the exhausted spirit of
Knox. Besides the blow struck at the reformed body, he had to lament
the loss of many {217} individuals, eminent for piety, learning, and
rank, whom he numbered among his acquaintance. Being conveyed to the
pulpit, and summoning up the remainder of his strength, he thundered
the vengeance of Heaven against “that cruel murderer and false traitor,
the king of France,” and desired Le Croc, the French ambassador, to
tell his master, that sentence was pronounced against him in Scotland,
that the divine vengeance would never depart from him, nor from his
house, if repentance did not ensue; but his name would remain an
execration to posterity, and none proceeding from his loins should
enjoy his kingdom in peace. The ambassador complained of the indignity
offered to his master, and required the regent to silence the preacher;
but this was refused, upon which he left Scotland.[289]
Lawson, having received the letters of invitation, hastened to
Edinburgh. He had the satisfaction to find that Knox was still able
to receive him; and, having preached to the people, gave universal
satisfaction. On the following Sabbath, the 21st of September, Knox
began to preach in the Tolbooth church, which was now fitted up for
him. He chose for the subject of his discourses, the account of our
Saviour’s crucifixion, as recorded in the twenty‑seventh chapter
of the Gospel according to Matthew, a theme with which he had often
expressed a wish to close his ministry. On Sabbath, the 9th of
November, he presided at the installation of Lawson as his colleague
and successor. {218} The sermon was preached by him in the Tolbooth
church; after which he removed, with the audience, to the large church,
where he went through the accustomed form of admission, by proposing
the questions to the minister and people, addressing an exhortation
to both, and praying for the divine blessing upon their connexion.
On no former occasion did he give more satisfaction to those who were
able to hear him. After declaring the respective duties of pastor
and people, he protested, in the presence of him to whom he expected
soon to give an account, that he had walked among them with a good
conscience, preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ in all sincerity, not
studying to please men, nor to gratify his own affections; he praised
God, that he had been pleased to give them a pastor in his room, when
he was now unable to teach; he fervently prayed, that any gifts which
had been conferred on himself might be augmented a thousand fold
in his successor; and, in a most serious and impressive manner, he
exhorted and charged the whole assembly to adhere steadfastly to
the faith which they had professed. Having finished the service,
and pronounced the blessing with a cheerful but exhausted voice, he
descended from the pulpit, and leaning upon his staff and the arm of
an attendant, crept down the street, which was lined with the audience,
who, as if anxious to take the last sight of their beloved pastor,
followed him until he entered his house, from which he never again
came out alive.[290]
{219} On Tuesday following, the 11th of November, he was seized
with a severe cough, which greatly affected his breathing.[291] When
his friends, anxious to prolong his life, proposed to call in the
assistance of physicians, he readily acquiesced, saying that he would
not neglect the ordinary means of health, although he was persuaded
that death would soon put an end to all his sorrows. It had been his
ordinary practice to read every day some chapters of the Old and New
Testament; to which he added a certain number of the Psalms of David,
the whole of which he perused regularly once a‑month. On Thursday
the 13th, he sickened, and was obliged to desist from his course of
reading; but he gave directions {220} to his wife, and his secretary,
Richard Bannatyne, that one of them should every day read to him, with
a distinct voice, the seventeenth chapter of the Gospel according to
John, the fifty‑third of Isaiah, and a chapter of the Epistle to the
Ephesians. This was punctually complied with during the whole time
of his sickness; and scarcely an hour passed in which some part of
scripture was not read in his hearing. Besides the above passages,
he, at different times, fixed on certain Psalms, and some of Calvin’s
French sermons on the Ephesians. Thinking him at times to be asleep,
when they were engaged in reading, they enquired if he heard them,
to which he answered, “I hear, (I praise God,) and understand far
better;” words which he uttered for the last time, within four hours
of his death.
The same day on which he sickened, he desired his wife to
discharge the servants’ wages; and wishing next day to pay one of
his men‑servants himself, he gave him twenty shillings above his fee,
saying, “Thou wilt never receive more from me in this life.” To all
of them he addressed suitable exhortations to walk in the fear of God,
and as became Christians who had lived in his family.
On Friday, the 14th, he rose from bed at an earlier hour than usual;
and thinking that it was Sabbath, said, that he meant to go to church,
and preach on the resurrection of Christ, upon which he had been
meditating through the night. This was the subject on which he should
have preached in his ordinary course. But he was so weak, that he
needed to be {221} supported from his bedside by two men, and it was
with great difficulty that he could sit on a chair.
Next day, at noon, John Durie, one of the ministers of Leith, and
Archibald Steward, who were among his most intimate acquaintance,
came into his room. Perceiving that he was very sick, they wished to
take their leave, but he insisted that they should remain, and having
prevailed with them to stay dinner, he rose from bed, and came to
the table, which was the last time that he ever sat at it. He ordered
a hogshead of wine which was in his cellar to be pierced for them;
and, with a hilarity which he delighted to indulge among his friends,
desired Steward to send for some of it as long as it lasted, for he
would not tarry until it was all drunk.
On Sabbath, the 16th, he kept his bed, and mistaking it for the first
day of the fast appointed on account of the French massacre, refused
to take any dinner. Fairley of Braid, who was present, informed
him that the fast did not commence until the following Sabbath, and
sitting down, and dining before his bed, prevailed on him to take a
little food.
He was very anxious to meet once more with the session of his
church, to leave them his dying charge, and bid them a last farewell.
In compliance with this wish, his colleague, the elders, and deacons,
with David Lindsay, one of the ministers of Leith, assembled in his
room on Monday the 17th, when he addressed them in the following words,
which made a deep and lasting impression on the minds of all:――“The
day approaches, and is now before the door, {222} for which I have
frequently and vehemently thirsted, when I shall be released from my
great labours and innumerable sorrows, and shall be with Christ. And
now, God is my witness, whom I have served in the spirit in the gospel
of his Son, that I have taught nothing but the true and solid doctrine
of the gospel of the Son of God, and have had it for my only object to
instruct the ignorant, to confirm the faithful, to comfort the weak,
the fearful, and the distressed, by the promises of grace, and to
fight against the proud and rebellious by the divine threatenings.
I know that many have frequently complained, and do still loudly
complain, of my too great severity; but God knows that my mind was
always void of hatred to the persons of those against whom I thundered
the severest judgments. I cannot deny that I felt the greatest
abhorrence at the sins in which they indulged, but still I kept this
one thing in view, that, if possible, I might gain them to the Lord.
What influenced me to utter whatever the Lord put into my mouth, so
boldly, and without respect of persons, was a reverential fear of
my God, who called and of his grace appointed me to be a steward of
divine mysteries, and a belief that he will demand an account of the
manner in which I have discharged the trust committed to me, when I
shall stand at last before his tribunal. I profess, therefore, before
God, and before his holy angels, that I never made merchandise of the
sacred word of God, never studied to please men, never indulged my own
private passions or those of others, but faithfully {223} distributed
the talents intrusted to me for the edification of the church over
which I watched. Whatever obloquy wicked men may cast on me respecting
this point, I rejoice in the testimony of a good conscience. In the
meantime, my dear brethren, do you persevere in the eternal truth of
the gospel: wait diligently on the flock over which the Lord hath set
you, and which he redeemed with the blood of his only begotten Son.
And thou, my dearest brother Lawson, fight the good fight, and do
the work of the Lord joyfully and resolutely. The Lord from on high
bless you, and the whole church of Edinburgh, against whom, as long
as they persevere in the word of truth which they have heard of me,
the gates of hell shall not prevail.”[292] Having warned them against
countenancing those who disowned the king’s authority, and made some
observations on a complaint which Maitland had lodged against him
before the session, he became so exhausted as to be obliged to desist
from speaking. Those who were present were filled both with joy and
grief by this affecting address. After reminding him of the warfare
which he had endured, and the triumph which awaited him, and joining
in prayer, they took their leave of him, drowned in tears.
When they were going out, he desired his colleague and Lindsay to
remain behind. “There is one thing that greatly grieves me,” said
he to them. {224} “You have been witnesses of the former courage and
constancy of Grange in the cause of God; but now, alas! into what
a gulf has he precipitated himself! I entreat you not to refuse the
request which I now make to you. Go to the castle, and tell him:
‘John Knox remains the same man now when he is about to die, that ever
he knew him when able in body, and wills him to consider what he was,
and the estate in which he now stands, which is a great part of his
trouble. Neither the craggy rock in which he miserably confides, nor
the carnal prudence of that man [Maitland] whom he esteems a demi‑god,
nor the assistance of strangers, shall preserve him; but he shall
be disgracefully dragged from his nest to punishment, and hung on a
gallows before the face of the sun, unless he speedily amend his life,
and flee to the mercy of God.’ That man’s soul is dear to me, and I
would not have it perish, if I could save it.” The ministers undertook
to execute this commission; and going up to the castle, they obtained
an interview with the governor, and delivered their message. He at
first exhibited symptoms of relenting, but having consulted apart with
Maitland, he returned, and gave them a very unpleasant answer. This
being reported to Knox, he was much grieved, and said, that he had
been earnest in prayer for that man, and still trusted that his soul
would be saved, although his body should come to a miserable end.[293]
{225} After his interview with the session he became much worse; his
difficulty of breathing increased, and he could not speak without
great and obvious pain. Yet he continued still to receive persons
of every rank, who came in great numbers to visit him, and suffered
none to go away without advices, which he uttered with such variety
and suitableness as astonished those who waited upon him. Lord Boyd,
coming into his chamber, said, “I know, sir, that I have offended
you in many things, and am now come to crave your pardon.” The answer
was not heard, as the attendants retired and left them alone; but his
lordship returned next day in company with Drumlanrig and Morton. The
Reformer’s private conversation with the latter was very particular,
as afterwards related by the earl himself. He asked him, if he
was previously acquainted with the design to murder the late king.
Morton having answered in the negative,[294] he said, “Well, God has
beautified you with many benefits which he has not given to every man;
as he has given you riches, wisdom, and {226} friends, and now is to
prefer you to the government of this realm.[295] And, therefore, in
the name of God, I charge you to use all these benefits aright, and
better in time to come than ye have done in times bypast; first to
God’s glory, to the furtherance of the evangel, the maintenance of
the church of God, and his ministry; next for the weal of the king,
and his realm and true subjects. If so ye shall do, God shall bless
you and honour you; but if ye do it not, God shall spoil you of these
benefits, and your end shall be ignominy and shame.”[296]
On Thursday, the 20th, lord Lindsay, the bishop of Caithness, and
several gentlemen, visited him. He exhorted them to continue in the
truth which they had heard, for there was no other word of salvation,
and besought them to have nothing to do with those in the castle.
The earl of Glencairn (who had often visited him) came in, with lord
Ruthven. The latter, who called only once, said to him, “If there be
any thing, Sir, that I am able to do for you, I pray you {227} charge
me.” His reply was, “I care not for all the pleasure and friendship of
the world.”
A religious lady of his acquaintance desired him to praise God for
what good he had done, and was beginning to speak in his commendation,
when he interrupted her. “Tongue! tongue! lady; flesh of itself is
over‑proud, and needs no means to esteem itself.” He put her in mind
of what had been said to her long ago, “Lady, lady, the black one has
never trampit on your fute;” and exhorted her to lay aside pride, and
be clothed with humility. He then protested as to himself, as he had
often done before, that he relied wholly on the free mercy of God,
manifested to mankind through his dear Son Jesus Christ, whom alone
he embraced for wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and
redemption. The rest of the company having taken their leave of him,
he said to Fairley of Braid, “Every one bids me good‑night; but when
will you do it? I have been greatly indebted unto you; for which I
shall never be able to recompense you; but I commit you to one that
is able to do it, to the eternal God.”
On Friday, the 21st, he desired Richard Bannatyne to order his coffin
to be made. During that day he was much engaged in meditation and
prayer. These words dropped from his lips at intervals: “Come, Lord
Jesus.――Sweet Jesus, into thy hand I commend my spirit.――Be merciful,
Lord, to thy church which thou hast redeemed.――Give peace to this
afflicted commonwealth.――Raise up faithful pastors who will take the
charge of thy church.――Grant {228} us, Lord, the perfect hatred of sin,
both by the evidences of thy wrath and mercy.” In the midst of his
meditations, he often addressed those who stood by, in such sentences
as these:――“O serve the Lord in fear, and death shall not be terrible
to you. Nay, blessed shall death be to those who have felt the power
of the death of the only begotten Son of God.”
On Sabbath, the 23d, (which was the first day of the national fast,)
during the afternoon sermon, after lying a considerable time quiet, he
suddenly exclaimed, “If any be present, let them come and see the work
of God.” Thinking that his death was at hand, Bannatyne sent to the
church for Johnston of Elphingston. When he came to the bedside, Knox
burst out in these rapturous expressions:――“I have been these two last
nights in meditation on the troubled state of the church of God, the
spouse of Jesus Christ, despised of the world, but precious in the
sight of God. I have called to God for her, and have committed her to
her head, Jesus Christ. I have fought against spiritual wickedness in
heavenly things, and have prevailed. I have been in heaven, and have
possession. I have tasted of the heavenly joys where presently I am.”
He then repeated the Lord’s prayer and the creed, interjecting devout
aspirations between the articles of the latter.
After sermon, many came to visit him. Perceiving that he breathed
with great difficulty, some of them asked, if he felt much pain.
He answered, that he was willing to lie there for years, if God
so pleased, and if he continued to shine upon his soul through
{229} Jesus Christ. He slept very little; but was employed almost
incessantly either in meditation, in prayer, or in exhortation. “Live
in Christ. Live in Christ, and then flesh need not fear death.――Lord,
grant true pastors to thy church, that purity of doctrine may be
retained.――Restore peace again to this commonwealth, with godly
rulers and magistrates.――Once, Lord, make an end of my trouble.” Then,
stretching his hands towards heaven, he said, “Lord, I commend my
spirit, soul, and body, and all, into thy hands. Thou knowest, O Lord,
my troubles: I do not murmur against thee.” His pious ejaculations
were so numerous, that those who waited on him could recollect only
a small portion of what he uttered; for seldom was he silent, when
they were not employed in reading or in prayer.
Monday, the 24th of November, was the last day that he spent on earth.
That morning he could not be persuaded to lie in bed, but, though
unable to stand alone, rose between nine and ten o’clock, and put on
his stockings and doublet. Being conducted to a chair, he sat about
half an hour, and then was put to bed again. In the progress of the
day, it appeared evident that his end drew near. Besides his wife and
Bannatyne, Campbell of Kinyeancleugh, Johnston of Elphingston, and
Dr Preston, three of his most intimate acquaintance, sat by turns at
his bedside. Kinyeancleugh asked him if he had any pain. “It is no
painful pain, but such a pain as shall soon, I trust, put end to the
battle. I must leave the care of my wife and children to you,” {230}
continued he, “to whom you must be a husband in my room.” About three
o’clock in the afternoon, one of his eyes failed, and his speech
was considerably affected. He desired his wife to read the fifteenth
chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians. “Is not that a
comfortable chapter?” said he, when it was finished. “O what sweet
and salutary consolation the Lord hath afforded me from that chapter!”
A little after, he said, “Now, for the last time, I commend my soul,
spirit, and body, (touching three of his fingers,) into thy hand,
O Lord.” About five o’clock, he said to his wife, “Go, read where
I cast my first anchor;” upon which she read the seventeenth chapter
of John’s Gospel, and afterwards a part of Calvin’s sermons on the
Ephesians.