Part 6 (1/2)

At St. Andrews Knox was free from personal danger, and resumed the work of preaching. In the pulpit of the parish church he discoursed almost regularly, with a vigour which triumphed for the time over his physical weakness. We have a most graphic portrait of him at this time from the pen of James Melville who was then a student at the University, and who writes thus in his diary: (We are constrained to modernize the words that they may be generally understood by English and American readers, but we know how much they must lose thereby in expressiveness, to those who understand the vernacular) ”Of all the benefits that I had that year (1571), was the coming of that most notable prophet and apostle of our nation, Mr. John Knox, to St. Andrews, who by the faction of the Queen occupying the castle and town of Edinburgh, was compelled to remove therefrom, with a number of the best, and chose to come to St.

Andrews. I heard him teach there the prophecies of Daniel that summer and the winter following. I had my pen and my little {192} book, and took away such things as I could comprehend. In the opening up of his text he was moderate for the s.p.a.ce of half an hour; but when he entered on application, he made me so to shudder (_scottice_, 'grue') and tremble, that I could not hold my pen to write. He was very weak. I saw him every day of his teaching, go slowly and warily, with a fur of martens about his neck, a staff in the one hand, and good, G.o.dly Richard Ballantyne, his servant, holding up the other armpit (_scottice_, 'oxter'), from the abbey to the parish kirk, and by the said Robert and another servant lifted up to the pulpit, where he behoved to lean at his first entrance; but before he had done with his sermon, he was so active and vigorous, that it seemed as if he would beat the pulpit in pieces (_scottice_, 'ding the pulpit in blads') and fly out of it.” Nor must we omit this other trait, evincing as it does the interest taken by the aged warrior in the young soldiers who were then just girding on their armour. ”He would sometimes come in and rest in our college yard, and call us scholars unto him, and bless us, and exhort us to know G.o.d, and His work in our country, and stand by the good cause, to use our time well, and learn the good instructions and follow the good example of our masters.”

In St. Andrews too, at this time, he published his ”Answer to the Letter of a Jesuit named Tyrie,” which was the last work that he gave to the world. It had been composed years before, in the haste which was incident to his numerous occupations, but it was now {193} revised and enlarged, and gives expression in a vigorous manner to his maturest views on faith, religion, and the Catholic, or true and Universal Church. Here is a nugget from it, not without its pertinence to some popular notions current in the days in which we live. ”We find that Christ sends not His afflicted Church to seek a lineal succession of any persons, before He will receive them; but He with all gentleness calleth His sheep unto Himself, saying, 'Come unto Me all ye that labour and are laden, and I will ease you.'” Truly a golden sentence, touching the very quick of all Church controversies, and emphasizing the principle never to be forgotten, that we must find our way to the Church through Christ, and not to Christ through the Church.

In public questions he did not cease to take an interest, although the state of his health unfitted him for active leaders.h.i.+p. Still, that he was no unconcerned spectator of what was going forward is apparent from the following statement, which, because of its faithfulness and fairness, we take from the article by Dr. Mitch.e.l.l on ”The Last Days of John Knox.”[1] ”In March, 1572, the General a.s.sembly was held in St.

Andrews, in the schools of St. Leonard's College. This place was no doubt chosen, in part at least, for the convenience of the aged Reformer, whose counsel in that time of trouble was specially needed.

It was the last a.s.sembly at which he was able to be present, and probably the first witnessed by Davidson and Melville. 'There,' the {194} latter narrates, 'was motioned the making of bishops, to the which Mr. Knox opposed himself directly and zealously.' ... Some months before this a convention at Leith had given its sanction to a sort of mongrel episcopacy, nominally to secure the t.i.thes more completely to the Church, but really to secure the bulk of them by a more regular t.i.tle to certain covetous n.o.blemen, who sought in this way to reimburse themselves for their services in the cause.” (The n.o.blemen presented to the bishoprics men who had first covenanted to give by far the larger portion of the revenues to the patrons, and with a truly Scottish humour, the people called these dignitaries ”tulchan bishops,”

a ”tulchan” being the name which was given to a calf's skin stuffed with straw, which was set up to make the cow give her milk more willingly.) ”First among these n.o.blemen was the Earl of Morton, then one of the chief supporters of the young prince, and soon after Regent of the kingdom. Having secured a presentation to the Archbishopric of St. Andrews, for Mr. John Douglas, he came over to the city, had him elected in terms of the convention, and on the 10th of February inaugurated into his office. This was performed by Winram, superintendent of Fife, according to the order followed in the admission of superintendents, save that the Bishops of Caithness, the Superintendent of Lothian, and Mr. David Lindsay, who sat beside Douglas, laid their hands on his head. Knox had preached that day as usual, but, as Ballantyne is careful to tell us, ”had {195} refused to inaugurate the said bishop”; and, as others add, had denounced ”anathema to the giver, and anathema to the receiver,” who, as rector and princ.i.p.al, ”had already far more to do than such an aged man could hope to overtake.” In the face of such a fact, it is idle for historians to insinuate, as Burton does, that Knox gave in his closing days even a _quasi_ sanction to episcopacy.

In the month of July, 1572, a cessation of hostilities for a time was agreed upon between the Regent's party and that of the Queen, so that the city of Edinburgh was again delivered from annoyance, either at the hands of the garrison or of ”the lewd fellows of the baser sort” who made its streets unsafe. As Melville says, ”the good and honest men thereof returned to their homes, and earnestly implored their pastor, if he could without injury of his health, to do the same; and so Mr.

Knox and his family pa.s.sed home to Edinburgh,” where he arrived on the 23rd of August. On the following Sunday he preached in his old pulpit; but as in his weakness he could not make himself heard in the large cathedral, the western part of the nave, known as the Tolbooth Church, was fitted up for his use; and that was the scene of his latest ministrations. He preached as often as he was able, delivering a course of sermons on the Redeemer's Pa.s.sion, which he had always wished to be the theme of his last discourses. But in his debilitated condition, his ancient power had well-nigh departed. Only once during this period of decadence {196} did the ”wonted fires” flame forth out of ”their ashes.” When he heard of the ma.s.sacre of St. Bartholomew he had himself a.s.sisted into the pulpit, and there, moved at once by the tender recollections of the many friends of his own who had been among the victims, and by his life-long antagonism to the system which was identified with that horrible cruelty, he thundered forth the vengeance of Heaven against ”that cruel murderer the king of France;” and turning to Le Croc, the French amba.s.sador, he said, like another Elijah: ”Go tell your master that sentence is p.r.o.nounced against him; that the Divine vengeance shall never depart from him or from his house, except they repent; but his name shall remain an execration to posterity, and none proceeding from his loins shall enjoy his kingdom in peace.”

His closing work was the installation of his own successor. During his absence from Edinburgh, Mr. John Craig, his colleague, had gone to another sphere of labour, and his flock had now no other shepherd than himself. He was, therefore, very naturally anxious to see some true and earnest man set over them in the Lord, and accordingly obtained permission from the General a.s.sembly to induct any minister who might be chosen by himself, the Superintendent of Lothian, and the Church of Edinburgh, to take his place. They agreed to nominate James Lawson, of Aberdeen, who, being urged by Knox to repair immediately to Edinburgh, in a touching letter, with a still more touching postscript,--”Haste, lest ye come too late!”--came to {197} the metropolis, gave such evidence of his gifts as satisfied all parties concerned, and was installed on the 9th of November. Knox preached the sermon on the occasion in the Tolbooth Church, and after that removed with the congregation to the larger area of the cathedral, where he went through the form of admission by proposing the usual questions, and giving exhortation first to the pastor and then to the people. He concluded with prayer and the benediction; ”then leaning upon his staff and the arm of an attendant, he 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.”

The next day he was seized with a violent cough, and he gradually declined until the 24th of November, when, at the age of sixty-seven, he breathed his last. His faithful servant, Richard Ballantyne, has left a minute description of his death-bed experiences and sayings, which Dr. McCrie has reproduced the main features of in his biography.

We select those which seem to us to give most insight into the character of the man. Visited, a few days after his last sickness began, by two of his personal friends, he ”for their cause came to the table,” for it was the hour of dinner, and caused an hogshead of wine in the cellar to be pierced for their entertainment, at the same time playfully desiring one of them to send for some of it as long as it lasted, for he would not tarry until it was all drunk.” To the elders of his Church who {198} came in a body to his room at his request, he said, ”I profess before G.o.d and His holy angels that I never made merchandise of the sacred word of G.o.d; never studied to please men; never indulged my own private pa.s.sions or those of others, but faithfully distributed the talents entrusted to me for the edification of the Church over which I watched. Whatever obloquy wicked men may cast upon me respecting this point, I rejoice in the testimony of a good conscience.” As they were leaving, he detained his colleague and the minister of Leith to give them a message to Kirkaldy of Grange, adding to it these words: ”That man's soul is dear to me, and I would not have it perish, if I could save it.” When they returned and told him that they had met with a rude reception, 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.” Such pet.i.tions as these dropped from his lips at intervals, ”Come, Lord Jesus. Be merciful 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 us, Lord, the perfect hatred of sin, both by the evidences of Thy wrath and mercy.” To his friend Fairley, of Braid, he said: ”Every one bids me good-night, but when will you do it? I have been greatly indebted to you, for which I shall never be able to recompense you, but I commit you to one who can, to the eternal G.o.d.” To Campbell of Kingzeancleugh {199} he said, ”I must leave the care of my wife and children to you, to whom you must be a husband in my room.” A few hours before his death he said to his wife, ”Go read where I first cast my anchor,” and she understanding his reference, read to him the 17th chapter of John's Gospel, and afterwards a part of Calvin's ”Sermons on the Ephesians.”

Shortly after, seeing that death was fast approaching, and when he was unable to speak, his servant said to him, ”Now, sir, the time that you have long called to G.o.d for, the end of your battle, is come; and seeing all natural power now fails you, remember the comfortable promises of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which ofttimes you have shown us.

And that we may understand and know that you hear us, give us some sign.” And ”so he lifted up one of his hands, and incontinent thereafter rendered up his spirit, apparently without pain or movement, so that he seemed rather to fall asleep than to die.”

He was buried on the 26th of November, his body being accompanied to the grave by a large concourse of people, among whom were the Earl of Morton, newly-appointed Regent, and other n.o.blemen. According to the rubric of his own Book of Common Order, there was no religious service at the funeral, but when the body was lowered to its place Calderwood tells us that the Regent Morton uttered these words: ”HERE LIETH A MAN WHO IN HIS LIFE NEVER FEARED THE FACE OF MAN; WHO HATH BEEN OFTEN THREATENED WITH DAGGE AND DAGGER, BUT YET HATH ENDED HIS DAYS IN PEACE {200} AND HONOUR.” The precise site of his grave cannot now be identified. It was in the churchyard of St. Giles, which extended from the church down the slope of the hill till it reached the Colgate, and was wholly obliterated in 1633 when the Parliament House and other buildings were erected. If any stone ever marked the spot, it was probably then removed or destroyed. Tradition points out as the place that which is now marked with the letters ”I.K., 1572,” a few feet to the west of the statue of Charles II. in the Parliament Square. What Charles ever did for Scotland to deserve any such memorial, it would puzzle the wisest man to say, unless perhaps on the principle that it was his intolerance which most of all provoked the Revolution; but many will agree with Dr. Laing in thinking, that ”a more appropriate monument for such a locality would be a statue of the great Reformer.”

Knox, we are told, was of small stature, and his const.i.tution never recovered from the effects of the exposure to which he was subjected in the French galleys, so that his frame was not well fitted for hards.h.i.+p and fatigue. He too had his ”thorn in the flesh,” and that he did so much in spite of that is a proof of the dominating power of his spiritual earnestness over his physical weakness. Of the five portraits reproduced and criticised so characteristically by Carlyle in his ”Brochure” on the subject, we give our verdict in favour of that which he calls the Somerville portrait, and of which he says that it is ”the only probable likeness anywhere known to {201} exist.” It is that of a true Scottish face--sharp, wedge-like in its contour, surmounted by a bald dome-like head fringed with scanty hair, the beard short and not very profuse, the lips firmly set, with the slightest curl of scorn in their expression, and the eyes small, clear, penetrating, and quick; altogether ”a physiognomy worth looking at,” and far more in keeping with the character and history of the Reformer, than the long-bearded timber-looking figure-head, surmounted by a Genevan cap, which has been made so long to represent him to posterity, and which Carlyle has shown to have no claim to authenticity.